#i also woke up past noon and said i’d get my sleep schedule back on track

[handcat]

where’s that catcrumb of a cat screaming UNLOVED UNLOVED UNLOVED pls i need to post it for attention

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Breakable Heaven (pt. IV) - p.l. dubois

part I part II part III

Oh my gosh, I seriously can’t believe this little series has come to an end. I’m so so happy with how it’s turned out, and want to thank anyone who’s stuck with Laurel and Pierre-Luc throughout this month. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever done, and it’s yours to enjoy now. Please please let me know what you think of this part, what you think about the series - getting anon comments is amazing, my inbox is always open, and I LOVE reading tags. Reblog if you like what I’m putting out, it helps me know that!

Warning: Smut (It’s light, but it’s there, so no one under 18 please!)

Part IV (7.8k)

September 23 (thurs)

Laurel was running through the Toronto airport, her carry-on bag bouncing on the tile behind her as she frantically searched for her gate. Thank God Air Canada domestic flew from the international terminal; her layover was only an hour and ten minutes and even more time had been shaved off by a departure delay in Montréal. She had forgotten that flights from Toronto cleared U.S. Customs in Canada, and if she hadn’t been able to skip the line and slap her American passport on a kiosk reader she would have almost certainly missed her connection. 

No matter how many times Laurel had tried to insist on an economy ticket when she and Pierre were booking flights for her visits, he refused to cave. “They don’t include a checked bag in economy, but they do if you fly business,” he had said, shrugging, with a small smile on his face. “Baggage fees alone would make it pretty much a wash.” Laurel doubted that, and she doubted that she’d need a checked bag for a four-day trip, but her husband had made it clear that he wasn’t budging. 

So needless to say, she was more than a little bit out of breath as she finally arrived at Gate F66, which was conveniently almost as far away from her arrival gate as humanly possible while still being in the same terminal. She handed her boarding pass and passport to the gate agent, smiling apologetically as she hurried down the jetbridge. It was barely past noon, but there was nothing in the world Laurel wanted more than to sleep. Maintaining a full-time schedule at the hospital while also trying to organize a trip to Columbus that lasted more than two days meant she had to switch shifts. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; that week, however, the only open slot was the 12-hour overnight shift on Wednesday. Which meant that she’d been awake for some twenty hours straight, but almost all of that had been on her feet at work, or walking from the parking lot to the check-in counter in Montréal, or running through the halls of Pearson Airport in Toronto. She took her seat, half-listened to the safety briefing, and passed out as soon as her head hit the headrest. 

Much to her chagrin, the flight itself was only just over an hour, and she was really only able to get in a generous nap before their descent into Ohio. Sitting in the second row, she exited the plane in record time, flicking her phone off of airplane mode and waiting for a text from Pierre-Luc. At least she didn’t have to go through TSA again. He wrote back in record time, letting her know he’d be in his car at the curb right outside the terminal. She waited at baggage claim, grabbing her forest green suitcase; the same one she had when she’d moved to Toronto for university, fresh-faced and 18 and so, so unaware of what the world had in store for her. If only she could see herself now. Laurel ran her thumb along the side handle for a moment, pulling at a loose thread, before hefting it onto the floor and turning towards the sliding exit doors. 

As promised, Pierre was waiting right outside the door, flashing her a bright smile and throwing the driver’s side door open as soon as he saw her. “Welcome to Columbus, babe!” he exclaimed, wrapping Laurel into a deep hug and kissing her on the cheek. 

She laughed as the trunk popped open, each of them grabbing a suitcase. “It’s a little bit funny, don’t you think? That I’ve lived in the Midwest for almost my whole life and the first time I go to Ohio it’s because I’m living in Canada?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Pierre said, holding his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “I’m really happy you were able to come, though, Laurel. I got used to having you around.” His face was softer now, looking over at Laurel with an expression that wasn’t quite placable but seemed like it was somehow communicating so much in a single glance. 

“Me too,” Laurel replied. The ride to Pierre’s Columbus apartment took just over ten minutes, and Laurel was in the door, petting the dogs, before the clock struck 3:00. 

Pierre approached her from behind, his hands on her shoulders as he leaned around to kiss her on the cheek. “You want to take a nap?” he asked. “We’ve got that thing with the team at 7, and I know you’re probably running on fumes right now.” 

Laurel nodded, giving him a weary smile, dropping her bag on the floor of the master bedroom with an all-too-satisfying thump. “Nap sounds good.” 

---

The nap was good, so good, and Laurel woke up at half past 6 feeling like she’d just had the best sleep of her life. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and looked around the room to see Pierre with his back towards her, buttoning up his shirt. He turned around, catching her eye, and grinned. “You like the view?” he asked, gesturing to his half-naked torso. 

Laurel rolled her eyes, pulling the sheets up to poorly conceal her embarrassment at being caught. “And if I do?”

She heard a loud laugh, peeking her head out from under. “I’d say my wife has every right to appreciate it.” He walked around the bed while fastening the last few buttons, holding his hand out for Laurel to take. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but we’re going to have to get going in fifteen minutes or so. I was told that ‘we’ve waited this long to meet her, the least you could do is get your damn wife to the party in time,’” he said, adding air quotes for emphasis. 

Laurel nodded, tossing back the covers and walking over to her suitcase, intending to rifle through the stacks of clothes to find something for the night’s festivities. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bag. She wheeled around to look at Pierre, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at her suitcase. “I unpacked your stuff,” he said, nodding over towards the spare dresser. “It’s in there. I’m sorry if that seems weird and I won’t do it again if you feel like that was pushing your boundaries, but I know for me when I’m on roadies I like to unpack, even if it’s just one night. Makes it feel more like home.”

Laurel was too overcome with how sweet the gesture was, small as it may have been, to realize that that meant he had touched four days worth of bras and underwear. It shouldn’t have bothered him anyways, and if he hadn’t said anything about it, it clearly hadn’t. So instead, she pulled him into a warm hug, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, P. One less thing I have to do.” 

“You do still have to actually get dressed, though,” he added, giving her sleepwear an appreciative once-over. “Unless you’re planning on wearing that.” 

She let out a giggle. “As much as I love wearing a massive Cloquet High Lumberjacks t-shirt and no pants, somehow I don’t think that’s the move,” she said, ambling over towards the dresser. She found the tops on the first try, pulling out a wine-colored wrap shirt and grabbing the same pair of light-wash jeans she had worn on the plane. Pierre moved to duck out of the room, presumably to give her privacy to change. Laurel made a split-second decision to call after him. “You don’t have to leave.” Pierre stopped in his tracks.

Laurel slipped the shirt on, tying it in the front, and fastened her jeans. Mascara on and booties zippered, and she was good to go. “So what is this thing, anyways?” she asked Pierre as they drove to Foligno’s house. 

Pierre tilted his head. “Little bit of this, little bit of that. Half the typical beginning-of-the-year preseason party, half the wedding reception we never had. They were very insistent on bringing gifts, so be prepared.”

“Will do,” she said, laughing. “And by they, you mean…”

“Some of the guys, but mostly the wives and girlfriends. Their parties are the stuff of legends, so you can imagine how excited everyone was when I told them we never had a proper reception.”

“But they don’t know why we didn’t have a proper party,” Laurel reminded him. 

“About that…” Pierre started, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

Laurel froze, her thumb hovering over her phone screen, halfway through composing a text to Kristen. “Pierre,” she swallowed, her voice deadly soft, “did you tell someone?”

---

It was the Saturday before, and the team had gone out to celebrate the end of the first week of training camp. Sunday was an off day, so Saturday night found all the over-21s — and anyone who could get a good enough fake — at a bar in the city. Pierre had just crossed the line into tipsy, and as his captain was about to find out, tipsy Pierre was an oversharer. It was common enough for families to be a topic of discussion on nights out or in the locker room; that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that, as the old adage goes, drunk words are sober thoughts. And, if he was being honest, Pierre was still harboring some guilt from having to hide the truth of his and Laurel’s marriage from everyone, Nick included. Pierre hated that he couldn’t tell Nick the truth. He was his captain and his friend, and he felt the least he owed to him was not to lie. 

“It’s just so weird being away from Laurel, away from Montréal, for this long,” Pierre sighed. 

“Sure,” Nick said sympathetically, “but you said you’d been friends for a few years, so you’ve had feelings for her for a while, no? It’s obviously not ideal, but you’ve been away from her for longer.” 

Pierre turned towards Nick, some of his beer — his fourth of the night — spilling out of the cup. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

Nick rolled his eyes, thinking he was going to be hearing some dumb high school confession, that he had asked out a senior girl when he was a freshman, or filled his QMJHL captain’s gloves with shaving cream or something. He didn’t expect what he heard next. 

“We got married so she could stay in the country, for her permanent residency. I never met her before June.” 

Nick sucked in a breath. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?” 

“Nope.” 

“You realize how much trouble you guys could get into if they figure out, right?” he asked. 

Pierre nodded, looking down at his clasped hands nervously. “We both do. But you’re not going to tell anyone, right?” 

“No, of course not,” Nick said. “I trust you, and I know you and Laurel were just doing what you thought was the best and most logical thing given the circumstances.” Pierre let out a somber nod. “But,” he continued, “I feel like this whole...situation just leaves open the opportunity for things to get really messy really quickly.” 

“Messy how?” Pierre asked. 

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking at a spot just beyond Pierre’s head. He didn’t want to, not really, but it was his job as Pierre’s captain — more importantly as his friend  — to make him consider every angle. “Someone catching feelings, one of you falling for the other, or God forbid, someone else. There’s already so much at stake in a ‘normal’ marriage, but yours just has added complications.” Pierre felt a twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to admit it, he really didn’t want to admit it, but Nick was right. “Do you love her?” Nick asked softly. 

Pierre sunk back into his chair. “I don’t know. She means a lot to me, more than I ever thought she would, but I don’t know. Plus, I have no clue how she feels about me, and I wouldn’t want to say something like that only to have her pull away.” 

“Did you guys talk about that?” he asked. 

“About what?” Pierre responded. 

“About what would happen if one of you caught feelings. Because I’m assuming it was supposed to, is supposed to, be a strictly platonic thing.” 

Pierre shrugged. “Not really. We didn’t like make a pact or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. We really didn’t talk much about it at all,” he said, finishing his beer. “I mean, obviously we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing anyone else, dating or hooking up or anything like that. It was just too risky. But no, we never really addressed how we’d deal with it if one of us ended up...falling for each other. I guess it was just supposed to be a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ type of thing.” 

“And have you come to it?” Nick asked. 

“I don’t know.”

---

Pierre finished the story, hazarding a glance over to Laurel, who was wringing her hands as she looked out the windshield. “I’m not mad at you,” she said finally. “If Nick said he wouldn’t tell, I trust you when you say he won’t. One of us was bound to let it slip eventually.” 

He turned his eyes back towards the road, still feeling a pang of regret. She was almost being too good to him. “We’ll be okay,” he said, saying it just as much to himself as he did to her. 

Laurel gave him a small smile as they pulled into the Foligno’s house, parking on the stone-paved driveway. “We will be.”

Janelle opened the door practically the second after they knocked, greeting Pierre and Laurel with warm hugs. “Laurel, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, squeezing her hand. “We know how hard it is to find the time off and make the trip down, and everyone’s excited to see you.” She led them through the entryway to the living room, where Laurel was passed around to some twenty-odd players and their partners, where she introduced herself over and over again as “Pierre’s wife, yes the nurse from Minnesota who none of you knew existed.” 

Dinner was a barbeque outside, Nick, Pierre, and some of the others manning the three grills as Laurel helped set up the drinks table. He held her hand under the table as they ate, his thumb gently rubbing across her thigh every so often in reassurance. “You good?” he murmured in his ear as Laurel sipped a beer, half-listening to some story Korpi was telling about a near-miss incident with a water ski back in Finland during the summer. 

Laurel nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I’m good.”

Plates were cleared, dishes were washed, and everyone was herded into Nick and Janelle’s enormous family room, where a small mountain of wrapped boxes and bags sat in the far corner. “I don’t know if you know this,” Janelle said conspiratorially as Laurel sat down, “but NHLers make more than a little money.” 

She laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

“Which means that, clueless though they may be, you’re going to be getting some very nice presents.” 

And very nice presents they were. A wine club membership, a set of dutch ovens from Seth — “It was my mom’s suggestion”  — Jones, an espresso machine from Boone, a set of matching, personalized dog bowls for Phil, Georgia, and Piper. Laurel honestly wasn’t sure how it was all going to fit in the car, let alone how she was going to manage to stay under the baggage limit on her way back to Canada, but the thought and kindness that went into each gift was what really made it special. 

“From me and the other girls,” Janelle said, passing Laurel a bag. 

“Oh, this is too much,” Laurel said. “You already got the knives and the mixer, I don’t need anything else.”

Cam’s wife, Natalie, shrugged. “Would it help if we made it, didn’t buy it?”

Laurel’s brow furrowed in confusion, her fingers moving to undo the ribbon that tied the handles together, taking out the tissue paper. “Oh!” she gasped quietly as she pulled out a denim jacket, a Blue Jackets logo ironed onto the back, Dubois embroidered where a name bar would be. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re still a part of the family,” Natalie said, smiling. “Even if you’re not here all the time. We want you to feel as included as anyone else.”  

Laurel folded up the jacket carefully, tucking it back in the bag as Josh walked up to Pierre, holding out a small box, clearly wrapped by himself. “Well now I just feel silly.”

Pierre shook his head, smiling at his friend. “Don’t, Josh. I’m sure we’ll love it.” He thumbed open the folds on the wrapping paper, setting it aside before pulling off the top of the box. He fell silent. 

Laurel peeked over, trying to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents. “What is it, P?”

Instead of answering, Pierre just held the box upside-down. Condoms of all colors and sizes rained down onto the hardwood floor as Pierre stared at Josh, clearly trying very hard not to laugh. The side of his mouth twitched. “Interesting choice of gift, you don’t think?” he asked.

Josh shrugged helplessly, his cheeks red. “It’s practical?”

 November 28 (sun)

 Laurel caught every Blue Jackets game she could on the TV, even the ones in early November when Pierre was out for a few games with a mild concussion. She was his wife, but she was also a nurse, and made sure to get daily updates on his condition, restraining herself from FaceTiming him to help limit his amount of daily screen time. But he had been back for a few weeks, making second star of the night with a goal and an assist, so naturally he was pulled away for a few postgame interviews. 

Laurel watched the screen, trying not to get distracted by the sweat drenching his Underarmour. Reporters, the good ones at least, were usually considerate with steering clear of asking personal questions, but sometimes an injury, or the birth of a child, or, as luck would have it, a wedding, begged an answer. “So, Pierre, I think a lot of us were surprised to see you announce on Instagram that you had gotten married this summer. Congratulations, by the way,” the journalist from the Dispatch said. 

“Thanks,” Pierre replied, smiling. 

“And I hope I speak for everyone here when saying that we entirely respect you and your wife’s decision to keep things quiet and announce it in a much more subdued fashion than usual. Players often speak a lot about how integral support from family and friends is, and just how important it is to have that kind of a support system in place.” Pierre could see where the question was going. “Obviously you’ve got the boys down here, but it doesn’t look like your wife Laurel is based in Columbus like you are. Is there a reason for that, and do you think that’s affected your game?” 

Pierre sucked in a breath; it was a fair question, and a reasonable assumption to make, but that didn’t mean he liked answering it any more. But it was almost suspicious how quickly he had an answer. “Uh, yeah, it’s been interesting for us to have to navigate. You’re right, Laurel’s back in Montréal, she spends most of her time at our place in the city. She’s a nurse in the intensive care unit of CHU Saint-Justine, so she does pediatrics there. She loves what she does, and she’s so good at it, and it just wouldn’t be right of me to ever ask or expect her to leave on my account. I know we’ve got a great hospital at Nationwide Children’s, but she loves where she is. We both do. So yeah, it’s rough being away sometimes, but luckily she’s able to move shifts around and make it down twice a month or so when we’re not on the road. But we keep in contact daily, obviously, and I’m able to lean on the guys, especially the other married ones, on how to deal with the stress of being away for so long. But it’s rough. I miss my wife,” Pierre finished. 

Laurel clicked the remote, turning the TV off, her hand scratching behind Piper’s ears, and tried not to replay his words in her mind as she crawled into bed and fell asleep. 

 December 18 (sat)

 Laurel stumbled through the door of Pierre’s Columbus apartment, laughing breathlessly as she tried to lock the deadbolt. “You need some help there, L?” Pierre asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“I’m good,” Laurel said, taking two more tries before it would actually lock. The eggnog from the Christmas party was starting to take its toll; Pierre had agreed to be the pair’s designated driver for the night, so she had had maybe a glass too many. The night had genuinely been so much fun, Laurel had initially been worried at how well she might fit in with the group in a more casual situation. As much as she loved being able to hang out with the team and the other WAGs when she was in Ohio — and she did — she couldn’t help but be nervous that she didn’t have the same level of camaraderie that could help turn a night from good to great. Laurel couldn’t have been happier to be wrong. She was embraced from the moment she walked in the door, a glass of wine pushed into her hand and her Secret Santa gift deposited on the entryway table. 

Laurel used to always roll her eyes at the idea that “time flies when you’re having fun,” but that couldn’t have been more true for the party. It seemed like only minutes had passed, but suddenly it was almost midnight, and the couples with kids had to head home to relieve the babysitters, and Laurel and Pierre were headed home. 

“Let’s get some water in you, no?” Pierre murmured, walking to the kitchen and opening the cupboard. 

“Thanks,” Laurel said softly as she took the glass from him, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her on the couch. 

Pierre perched on the arm, absentmindedly playing with his watch. But while a tipsy Pierre was an oversharer, a tipsy Laurel was always emotional in one fashion or another. “How’d you like the party?”

“It was great,” Laurel said. “I’m not sure why Alexandre thought I’d be into a Blue Jackets scarf, but I guess it’s the thought that counts?” She pulled the offending object out of her bag, running her fingers through the fringe on the edge. “Seeing how amazing so many of those couples are, Janelle and Nick especially, it was awesome…” She trailed off. “But it was hard.”

His brow furrowed. Why would it be hard? “How so?”

“I always thought that, when I got married, it would be once and that was it.” She screwed her eyes shut. “And that’s not to mean I’m not grateful for what you’ve done, it’s so incredible and goes so far beyond just plain kindness. I just thought it would be a forever thing.”

Pierre’s heart dropped. Of course she’d feel like that. If marriage was something she wanted to take that seriously, how could she not feel like she was cheapening its meaning by treating it as nothing more than an arrangement of convenience? It wasn’t even like he felt any differently; hockey was obviously still his first priority most of the time, but he’d always seen himself as someone who wanted to settle down and have a family one day. He guessed that he just hadn’t let himself think about it. “Laurel,” he said quietly, reaching out to her. But she wasn’t done. 

“It’s just,” Laurel sighed, one hand tugging on her hair, tears threatening to escape her eyes, “knowing this is all temporary. Knowing that in a couple of y-years, when I g-get my citizenship and we get d-divorced, this is all going to end,” she said, hiccuping through her words. “I won’t be able to come to your Christmas parties and fly down for games and sit up in the WAG box with my friends and that jacket and a jersey with your name on it. I won’t be able to do any of that any more because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t ever real, and that fucking kills me inside, P.” Laurel sat on the corner of the couch, a spot as precarious as the words tumbling out of her mouth. 

“Why?” Pierre asked, even though if he was honest, he’d stake his career on the belief that he already knew the answer. “Why would it hurt so bad?” His voice was so quiet that if Laurel hadn’t been sitting two feet away, she wouldn’t have heard. 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you,” she whispered. “And that’s the single most terrifying sentence I’ve ever said in my life.” Even though Pierre somehow knew that’s what she was going to say all along, it didn’t stop her words from stealing the breath out of his lungs. Laurel looked up at him through her tears, her eyes beginning to redden. “Say something, please, P.”

Pierre knelt in front of her, his thumb resting gently on her cheek, wiping away her tears. “God, Laur, how could I not be in love with you?” She blinked rapidly at him, trying to process the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. You’re so caring, not just for me, but for everyone in your life. You’d give a stranger the shirt off of your back. You’re probably the smartest person I know, way smarter than me.” A giggle escaped Laurel’s mouth. “The dedication you show to everything in your life is amazing. At your job, you treat every patient like they were your own sibling or your own child. You make the trip down to Columbus once a month, twice a month. That’s not easy, all the flight time and having to leave Piper and switching shifts around so we can see each other. You’re gorgeous, not just on the outside — though you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen — but the light in your eyes when you talk about a new book you read, or how happy you look when you let me taste a new recipe you’re trying, or how passionate you get when you see something wrong and know there’s something you need to do to change it. So what if we’re doing things a little backwards? First comes marriage, then comes love.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I fell in love with you awhile ago. I think it just took me a second to realize it.”

 January 26 (wed)

 Laurel thought the distance and space between them would be easier now that she knew how he felt, now that they both knew how they felt. She couldn’t have been more wrong. So the All-Star break, and the Blue Jackets’ bye week, couldn’t have come at a better time. Pierre had made plans for the break a few months earlier, but after everything that happened over Christmas, it didn’t seem right to ditch Laurel for a boy’s trip with Alexandre and Seth. So Hilton Head was traded in for Saint Lucia, and his teammates were traded in for his wife. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Laurel was using three of her paid vacation days and Pierre was able to make the schedule work just right to get five nights in the Carribean. “A belated honeymoon, if you will,” he had said, cracking a grin over FaceTime as they booked the flights. The flight from Columbus was much less straightforward than hers from Montréal, but by a chance airline scheduling his first layover was in Toronto. Laurel met him at the gate, hauling her own green suitcase behind her as he flung his arms around her, kissing her with everything he had in him. They may have missed the not-so-subtle fans taking pictures that later circulated around Twitter that may or may not have led to some grade A chirping in the team’s group chat. But Pierre didn’t care. He cared that for a few days, he could forget about the stress of hockey and trying to make a playoff run and all the rumors floating around and just be with his wife. And, Pierre thought as they walked through the airport door into the Carribean sun, there really wasn’t anything else he wanted. 

They hailed a taxi, the twenty minute drive to their resort rushing by in a blur of palm trees and seas so blue Laurel thought she could fall into them just by looking. Pierre jogged into the main office to check them in, coming back with their key cards before the taxi continued on its way, dropping them off in front of their villa. Laurel spun slowly as they got out of the car, smiling up at the sky as Pierre pressed a few bills into the taxi driver’s hand with a nod of thanks. “You okay there?” he asked with a grin. 

“It’s so warm,” Laurel said in wonderment. Even in January, the weather in Saint Lucia hovered in the mid-70s, a far cry from the twenties and teens of a Montréal winter. Laurel was no stranger to the cold — Cloquet had seen temperatures pushing thirty below when Laurel was in high school — but the idea that she could be somewhere and wear shorts while it was snowing in her hometown was a concept so novel she hadn’t quite grasped it yet. 

He nodded, looking at Laurel with a gaze so soft she thought her heart would maybe burst. “We’re in the Caribbean, L. It’s warm all the time.” 

She rolled her eyes, bending over to get her suitcase, but not before Pierre snatched it up himself, holding the key card between two fingers. “Are you going to just stand there, or do you want to check out our honeymoon suite?” Laurel’s words dripped with suggestiveness, her sandal-clad feet dragging their way up the path to the villa with tantalizing languor. 

“Coming.” 

Even after the six months of their marriage, and even after everything that happened over the holidays, they hadn’t had sex. They’d gotten close a few times, both on her trip in December and in ones since, but never managed to go all the way. First Laurel needed a new birth control prescription — the last thing she would do would be have sex without being extra safe about it — and then she was too tired after a night out, and another time Pierre had scored a hat trick and they had partied way too hard to even think about sex. So needless to say, it had been a while for Laurel since she’d gotten release by any hands other than her own, and even longer for Pierre. And it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Laurel was well aware that her husband was hot as fuck, and she’d be lying if some of her lonelier nights weren’t filled with thoughts of exactly what she wanted him to do to her. But it felt different than any of her other relationships. Obviously, it felt different, she hadn’t been married to Oliver or Ryan or Carter. And that didn’t mean she wasn’t invested in those, but just that the stakes were so much higher and she had fallen so much harder for Pierre than she ever thought imaginable. She didn’t want to have sex with him until she was sure. Sure that it was going somewhere, sure that it would last, sure that he loved her in the same way that made her heart ache every time he dropped her off at Columbus International Airport. 

---

By the time they had unpacked, eaten, and gotten a few rum punches in their system, it was well past 7 and the sun had long since set. Laurel peeked out the door onto their balcony, nodding at the private plunge pool. “We’ve got quite the setup here.”

She walked over to the dresser, grabbing a swimsuit out and crossing over to the bathroom, her hand hovering over the knob. “Just something to think about.” Pierre put his swim trunks on in record time. Laurel padded out of the bathroom, the top straps of her bikini dangling, the swell of her breasts peeking above the cups. “Do me up?” she asked. 

Pierre’s fingers brushed the baby hairs at the base of her neck as he tied the straps of her white-hot bikini. “Sure you don’t want to go out to the beach?” 

Their villa came with a stretch of beachfront, and it seemed like such a shame to let it go to waste. Laurel shook her head, a smile playing on the edge of her lips. “We’ve got a couple of days to enjoy the beach. I’d like to stay somewhere a little more...secluded.” She bit her lip as she opened the door to the balcony, dipping her toes in the pool and sighing at the warmth of the water. Laurel looked back at Pierre, one eyebrow raised. “You coming?” Pierre couldn’t follow fast enough. 

They stayed in the water for a while, lazily kissing and staring at the stars and sipping drinks that had lost their potency hours ago, but neither of them really cared much. Sometime during the night, Laurel had made her way onto Pierre’s lap, where she reached over to the balcony, lofting herself out of the pool and wrapping a scarf around her body. “Getting a little cold,” she said, bending down and giving him a soft kisss. She walked into the room, drying herself off; he followed. Laurel threw the towel over a chair in the corner of the room, walking over towards Pierre, stopping when their noses were almost touching.

Laurel’s wrap fell from her shoulders, pooling on the wood floor. Pierre’s hand skated up her arm to rest on her cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stood on her tiptoes as her left hand tangled in his hair, her right pressed against the back of his neck. She whimpered into his mouth; it took everything in Pierre’s power to keep the blood from rushing south. The kiss got more frantic, tongue and teeth clashing against each other as he walked her back to the bed. The back of her knees bumped up against the edge. 

Pierre pulled away slightly, letting out a moan as he saw Laurel’s face. Her lips were puffy from kissing, her chest heaving with the force of her breath, and her wild hair had long since been taken out of its ponytail. In other words, Pierre was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laurel, in that moment, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “You sure you want to do this?” Pierre murmured. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But he’d never do anything without making sure that she was absolutely comfortable. Laurel nodded, biting her lip. “I need to hear you say it, babe,” Pierre said, taking a step forward, their noses almost touching. 

“I want you to ruin me.”

Pierre audibly groaned, capturing her lips in his before throwing her back on the bed, his hand moving to her back to undo the tie of her bikini top as his lips trailed down her neck. He threw the top off to one side, paying exactly zero attention to where it landed, as his hands slid up her waist to cup her breasts, his thumbs ghosting over her sensitive nipples. Laurel’s breath hitched in her throat. “You like that, baby?”

“Mhm,” Laurel whimpered, unable to form a complete sentence. 

He smirked, lowering his mouth to her chest, flicking his tongue over her right nipple as his hand pinched her left. The air was filled with breathless sighs from them both until Pierre’s hands left her breasts. Laurel whined in protest until she felt his fingers toying with her bikini bottoms, his head lifting just enough so that his eyes could meet hers. “This okay?”

It was all Laurel could do to choke out a single word. “Please.”

Pierre pulled them down her legs, kissing down, down to her hips, down to her inner thighs, down to everywhere except for where she needed him. “You need something, Laurel?” Pierre asked, his voice dripping with sex. 

Laurel groaned, not wanting to give in but also knowing that Pierre could stay where he was for hours if it meant teasing her. “Your mouth.” 

“As you wish.” And then his tongue was on her, and in her, and she couldn’t help but let out a moan. And Pierre was loving every second of it. He stayed down there for a while, long enough to finish her twice. 

Laurel pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn on his back so she could return the favor. Pierre shook his head as he shucked his shorts off, pulling her head down to kiss her roughly. “I’m going to cum right here if I don’t get inside you in the next two minutes, babe.” He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. “Guess I’ll have to thank Josh for these when we get back home.”

She raised one eyebrow, clearly unamused. “If you do that, I can promise you I’ll never put your dick in my mouth. Not now, not ever.”

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, the foil packet shining between two fingers. “Alright, alright. I won’t.” He paused just before bringing the wrapper up to his teeth. “You want this?”

Laurel nodded frantically as he rolled the condom down his length. He looked so hard it was painful. “So bad.” He leaned down to kiss her, propped up on one arm as he pushed into her, hair falling into his face as he closed his eyes. He was too blissed out to be able to focus on anything other than how good she felt around him, how tight and warm and how well she fit, like Laurel Elizabeth Klerken was made for him and him alone. 

“More,” Laurel cried softly, and that was all it took for Pierre to grab one of her legs, throwing it around his hips as he increased his pace, head dropping to her neck as he nipped at her pulse points. It didn’t take long for Pierre to reach his high, Laurel right behind him. He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, going into the bathroom to tie off the condom and grab a washcloth. He cleaned up between her legs as Laurel lay there, trying to steady her breathing, absolutely spent from the night’s three orgasms. “Why didn’t we do that earlier?” Laurel murmured. 

Pierre laughed, throwing the cloth in the laundry basket and tilting down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t know. But it was worth it.”

 February 20 (mon)

 Laurel had learned early on in her relationship with Pierre that she couldn’t put much stock into what was said on Twitter. Or Instagram, or any social media for that matter. So much was speculation: about draft picks, about trade rumors, about Pierre-Luc Dubois’ secret wife, that it just wasn’t useful or healthy for her so spend much time looking around. She still had her accounts, but Instagram was the only one she went on with any regularity nowadays. And she rarely checked her phone during the work day anyways; unless it was an unusually slow day  — which was never a good sign in the medical world — the only time she was even able to spare a glance was during her lunch break or when she’d run to the bathroom. So when her phone buzzed with a text from Pierre as she sat at the nurses’ station, her brow furrowed as she unlocked the screen. 

Are you free right now? I need to call you. 

Laurel bit her lip, nerves threatening to boil over. He knew her schedule, he knew she was at work. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait? Are you okay? Did something happen?

He typed a response as soon as her text showed as delivered.  I’m not hurt, it’s not bad, really, I just need to tell you something and I don’t want to have to do it over text. 

Laurel checked her watch. 11:18. It was early for a lunch break, but as long as she wasn’t needed, she could take her half hour any time between 11 and 1. She caught the eye of her charge nurse. “Claudette? I’m taking my lunch if that’s alright with you.” Claudette nodded, and Laurel quickly made her way to the locker room to grab her leftover pasta, texting Pierre on the way. Headed to the changing room now. Are you going to tell me what this is about?

Her phone rang a minute later, when she had just closed the door. She tapped the green button. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on here, P, because I’m kind of freaking out,” Laurel said, laughing nervously. “You don’t tell a girl what to expect, she starts assuming the worst.”

Pierre let out a heavy breath. She could imagine him running a hand through his hair on the other end. “I know, and I’m sorry if I worried you. I just needed to tell you before it breaks.”

“Before what breaks, Pierre?” Laurel’s anxiety was coming to a head. 

“I’m coming home.”

Laurel screwed her eyes shut, even more confused than she was before. “Yeah, Pierre, I know you’re playing here next week. Why would that be news?” 

“When’s the trade deadline, Laurel?”

“Last Monday in February, but I don’t see what that has…” She pulled the phone away from her ear, looking down at the screen, eyes locking on the date. “You got traded?” 

She could imagine him sitting down on the edge of his couch, one hand dangling off the side, Georgia trying to jump up and goad him into giving her a pet or two. “They’re breaking it right before the noon deadline, but you deserved to know before everyone else did. You needed to know.”

Laurel leaned up against her locker, hand over her mouth. “You’re coming to Montréal?” She had seen it mentioned offhand on a few Twitter accounts she followed the handful of times she had logged on in the past week, but nobody thought it would actually happen. Even the concept of trading him seemed so far-fetched with the type of season he was having in Columbus. He was sitting near 30 goals and 40 assists, with one of the best plus-minus scores on the team. It just didn’t make sense. 

“As of twenty minutes ago, I’m officially a Montréal Canadien,” Pierre answered. 

“Oh God,” Laurel said, sympathy lacing her voice. She couldn’t let herself be excited, wouldn’t let herself be excited, until she knew exactly how Pierre felt about it. He had just been uprooted from the team that drafted him, where he’d played for four seasons and made friends and where everyone saw him as the future of the franchise. 

Pierre let out a single laugh. “They let me know what the deal was, apparently Montréal really wanted me. First round pick next year, a second-year defenseman, some prospect from Laval.”

Laurel settled on the bench, tucking the phone under her chin. “Of course they really wanted you, P. You’re an incredible player, you’d be an asset to any team and you’re going to do great things in Montréal.” She paused. “But how are you feeling about the move? I know it’s not what you were expecting. Or what anyone was expecting, really.”

“It’s weird,” Pierre said after a moment. “Obviously yeah, I won’t lie, it’s a shock. But almost every player, even the really good ones, get traded at one point or another. Gretzky was traded to L.A.”

“Are you comparing yourself to Gretzky?” Laurel asked playfully. 

“No,” Pierre chuckled. “But just trying to remind myself that it was almost inevitable. I’m allowed to be sad about it — and I am, it’s going to fucking suck leaving the boys — but I’m not as torn up as I thought I’d be if this ever happened.” He felt more than a little bad about it, but his first thought when his agent called and broke the news wasn’t sadness, it wasn’t despair at having to leave the team he had been brought up in and the men he considered his brothers. It was relief. Relief that he could be closer to his family, relief that he’d be back with Laurel, relief that he was going home. “And hey,” he said, catching Laurel’s attention. “You know what?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “What?”

“I don’t even have to marry someone to move.”

---

Pierre’s flight got in late Tuesday night, just after Laurel’s shift at the hospital had ended. He had said he wouldn’t mind taking an Uber home so she didn’t have to rush over and stress about traffic, but Laurel didn’t care. She wanted to be at the airport to pick up her husband, even if it meant she’d still be in her scrubs doing it. 

She saw him exiting the sliding doors of the international terminal before she even turned the corner, practically slamming her car into park as soon as she hit the curb. Pierre dropped his bags when her car door opened, paying no attention to the thump of the suitcases as they hit the ground or the wandering eyes of passersby. Airports hadn’t always been his favorite place. They meant leaving the people he loved, going away from what was warm and familiar and safe. They usually meant uncertainty. But that had changed, Pierre thought, as his wife jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as their lips met. Airports might just have become one of his favorite places. He pulled back from the kiss, their foreheads just barely touching. “Hi,” he said. 

Laurel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up rooms and made crying babies giggle and that Pierre was pretty sure was his favorite thing he’d ever seen in the world. “Welcome home.”

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-9)

Word count: 4.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, teehee ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: There is no angst in this part whatsoever. Fun break, right? ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23 the best! <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

Kevin kept stealing glances at you. It started out guilelessly, but then he got suspicious real quick.

“Something is up with you!” He finally proclaimed.

You looked up innocently from the bowl you were mixing the batter in. “What?”

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I know something is different today,” Kevin insisted. “Jack, back me up here!”

Jack looked up from his book, sweet and oblivious. “What?”

It only furthered Kevin’s annoyance. “Look at her!” He pointed a finger accusingly at you. “She’s humming!”

“She hums sometimes,” Meg shrugged from her place near the flowerpots in the balcony, where she sat cleaning her telescope.

You winked at her and she blew back a kiss.

“Did you see that!” Kevin shouted. “And now she’s winking!”

“Kev, you need to take it down a notch,” you grinned at him.

“Say what you want, Y/N, I know you’re keeping something from us,” he announced. 

“It’s just that I have an evening to myself for the first time in a while. It’s good to know that I can be in bed by eleven.”

“That’s a good enough reason to hum if you ask me,” Jack said absently. “God knows we’ve all wrecked our sleep schedules beyond repair now.”

“Y/N, Cas and Pam at least have night jobs,” Meg said. “We have zero excuses.”

Kevin gave up on trying to wriggle out the reason for your humming out of you and settled for stealing the cookie batter.

“Let’s not bake this. Let’s just eat this out of the bowl.”

You smacked his hand away, taking the bowl with you to the kitchen counter.

The door to the apartment opened and Cas came in. He looked ready to drop.

There was an outburst of excitement at his entry and he gave everyone a tired but happy smile.

“I thought I’d find you guys here,” he said, dropping on your sofa. 

“Long day?” You asked sympathetically.

He sighed. “It’s always a long day when you’re posted in the pediatric ward. I don’t look forward to it.”

 “But you’re so good with children!” Meg said.

You zeroed in on her. “How do you know that?”

“I-I ran into him at the hospital,” she said, suddenly busy with her lens. “It was nothing.”

Didn’t look ‘nothing’ to you, but you didn’t press her on it. Solidarity was the key to a healthy roommate relationship. Afterall, she had helped you out with Kevin earlier and hadn’t spoken a word about the coat.

You needn’t have worried, because Kevin clearly wasn’t over you.

“Y/N’s keeping something from us,” he complained to Cas promptly. “She’s humming, and smiling and baking those cookies!”

“She does all those things normally,” Cas said. You gave him an exaggerated bow, and Kevin’s jaw dropped.

“Now she’s- she’s doing that!” he spluttered.

You threw the kitchen rag at him. “Why are you scrutinising me with a magnifying glass, when we all should be clearly interested in Jack’s date! Why is nobody asking him the questions?”

“It was good,” Jack said, finally setting the book down. “Claire’s awesome! Hey, Y/N, guess what I found out? Her mom’s a Professor at the law school!”

“Really?” 

“Claire Mills, if it helps,” he added.

Professor Mills. You would have never guessed she had a daughter that old. She didn’t look it. You were instantly reminded of her barging into Sam’s office. What would have happened, if she hadn’t?

“You know what? Fine! Don’t tell me,” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest.

You walked over to him, and ruffled his hair. “It’s really nothing. If it was anything big, I’d tell you.”

It was true. A professor had smiled at you for a bit. That was all there was to it.

“Fine,” he gave in, sneaking away the bowl of cookie batter. “Keep smiling though, you light up the room.”

*************************

9th September 2008

‘You’ll be okay by yourself?” Aunt El asked you, worry creasing her forehead.

“Mom!” Jo groaned. “She’s not by herself! She’s with me.”

Ellen looked at her like that was hardly a good thing and you snickered.

“I worry that instead of her influencing you in a good way, you’re going to spoil her,” she admonished Jo good naturedly. “Please don’t get drunk and annoy the neighbours.”

“We’re totally getting drunk and annoying the neighbours,” Jo whispered conspiratorially behind her mother’s back.

Ellen was heading to Wisconsin for a bar owners convention. At least, that’s what she had told you. Jo believed it was a pretense for her to get drunk with her own friends.

“I’ll help out Jo at the diner,” you told your aunt, getting up to walk her to the door. 

Aunt El placed a hand on your shoulder. “You know you don’t have to, Y/N. Jo has plenty of help there.”

“I want to,” you offered, and she smiled.

“Alright girls,” Aunt El said. “Don’t have too much fun.” She hugged both of you and chasetly kissed your forehead. It was such a pure gesture of affection, it brought back memories of your Gran and the few faded ones of your mom.

“Pick your poison, my sweet child,” Jo grinned, pulling out a bottle of Vodka mere minutes after Ellen’s car had left the driveway. She had a hoard of bottles with her under the table. “We also have Whiskey, rum and this sweet mother of everything holy - Tequila.”

You stared at the assortment of liquor in horror. “Jo, I’ve only ever had beer, and two pints were more than enough to me as high as the holy heaven. This is a stupid idea.”

“In this house, we live for stupid,” Jo said, pouring some of the colourless liquid in a shot glass. “At least when my mother isn’t home.”

You looked at her dubiously.

“C’mon, Y/N, this will be fun!”

Her grin was so infectious that you gave in. 

“Pour away, bar wench,” you said, delicately putting your hand against your forehead like a gothic European woman. Your cousin howled with laughter and slid the glass towards you. “Let’s start with Vodka, shall we?”

The next day you would know that you shouldn’t have started with Vodka. Hell, you shouldn’t have started with anything! It felt like waking up in another reality when you opened your eyes the next morning. In fact, even doing that had been a struggle. The sun was shining too brightly through the tiny slit in the curtains, almost assaulting you in the eyes and your head felt like it had grown a few pounds over the night.

You groaned, wanting to roll over and go back to sleep, but a wave of nausea hit you and you shambled out of the bed, making it just in time to the bathroom to hurl your gut into the toilet. It was nasty and felt neverending. After the puking fit passed, you just curled on your side on the wet bathroom floor, wondering why the hell people put themselves through this? Sure, it had been a fun night, and after the second glass of vodka, you didn’t remember much anyway. Just really vague memories. There was some dancing on the staircase involved, jumping on the bed, and really loud music. Your throat was already sore from all the yelling and laughing, the throwing up had only made it worse.

You tried to recollect why you were in your bra and shorts. Oh, strip poker. You wanted to bang your head against the bathroom tiles, but even moving made the nausea worse. Only the thought of Jo finally made you get up and go looking for her in the house, which was a total mess. There were clothes everywhere. It was like the wardrobes had all burst open spilling clothes all over the house. 

And had there been crying? You remembered in flashes that you were sobbing ceaselessly in Jo’s arms at one point. 

Jo was nowhere to be seen. You did the only logical thing and called her phone.

“Morning, sunshine!” Jo answered on the third ring, voice absolutely nice and chirpy.

“How?” You croaked. 

Jo’s laughter echoed from the other side. “I’m just good at handling it. I was going to wake you before I left for the diner, but you were out for good. Figured you’d call when you woke up. Man, drunk Y/N is my new favourite person in the world. She’s a freaking rockstar! We are so doing this every weekend.”

Well, you wanted to dropkick drunk Y/N from the roof of the house. She got to have all the fun and you were the one to suffer especially when you didn’t even remember anything. From your seat next to the phone you gawked at the clock. It was just past noon.

You groaned.

“There, there,” Jo said sympathetically. “There’s a bottle of Advil on my nightstand. Take two and keep drinking water. You should be better in a few hours, okay?”

“Mhmm…”

“Do you want me to come over?” She asked, sounding worried now.

“I'll be fine,” you answered, quickly.

“Just keep sipping on some water and don’t skip the meal. Eat some bread, I’ve heard that helps, too.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Jo asked. Her voice hitched, as if she was nervous. “I’m going out with Dean after work. Is it okay with you if he stayed over?”

“Of course!” you said immediately. “It’s no problem at all.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

After hanging up the phone, you studiously did what Jo had said. Took the pills, filled a water bottle and then snuggled up on the couch, playing some mindless sitcom on the TV.

You didn’t pay any attention to it. Instead, you thought about Dean. When you had first met Dean, you were a little unsure about what to make of him. He wasn’t exactly hostile towards you, but it wasn’t hard to spot the wariness, as if he didn't trust you being around Sam, or rather didn’t want to trust. After the funeral that had completely changed. He had been more than welcoming and understanding. In fact, he had taken the time out to show you around the town in his car. According to Jo it was super rare of him and that he must really like you. His words from the graveyard came back to you. “You have to take care of yourself first, before you can take care of anyone else.” It had been just for your ears, and you knew exactly who he had been hinting towards.

You wondered idly, if you’d had a big brother, would he have been just as protective of you as Dean was of Sam? But Dean wasn’t just Sam’s brother, he was more than that, he was also a parent. Must have been awful to be the responsible one since such a small age and then doing such a great job. Look at how Sam had turned out to be.

You sighed, readjusting yourself. You so wanted to call Sam, but didn’t want to disturb him when he was busy studying for the Bar. You had taken to dropping by their place in the mornings with food. It made you feel like one of those evil scientists, because Dean’s face would light up the moment he saw you, expecting the pie. It was all really cute. Sam’s eyes, however, were only reserved for you. There was so much longing in them that it made your legs weak. The moment he saw you, though, the longing would be replaced by purest of joys. You would run to him and he’d catch up in his arms, kissing you soundly each time. That feeling, of being so wanted, was the best thing in your life right now. 

It was always the little things. How he never touched you without being completely sure that it was what you wanted. The first night you had stayed over, you had woken up in the middle of the night to find him sleeping on the carpet below you. The sight would have melted the hardest of hearts.

You didn’t know what most couples did, had nothing to compare this with, but Sam was definitely different. He read to you. He would open his textbooks, and read out loud cases and laws and proceedings. You didn’t understand much, but you loved to see him so immersed in it, his deep voice had become an anchor, steadying your life around it.

Once, after much persuasion, he had obliged you by playing a piece of Chopin on the Grand Piano. He said he was rusty, since he had been out of practice for so long, only having started playing again recently. You didn’t understand classical music. Whatever he played, it was all lovely.

On Sundays you would go to the park with picnic baskets, and you would rant about the ducks endlessly. Sometimes Dean and Jo would join you, but mostly it was just the two of you, stealing quiet moments. The soft touch of his rough hands drove you mad sometimes, but he never did anything more than kiss you. At first you wondered if he didn’t want anything more, despite Gran’s ‘boys only want one thing’ speech, and it left you feeling so frustrated. You would have believed it too, that he wasn’t interested in you like that, if you hadn’t seen his pupils dilate after he kissed you. His hands would start shaking a little and he would gulp before pulling away. He felt something, even if he didn’t want to show exactly what it was. 

The clock chimed and you opened your eyes. Had you really fallen asleep again, despite having woken up at noon? The TV was still playing a rerun of Days of our lives. You sat up feeling steadier. In fact, your stomach was settled, too. It was like the hangover of morning had never happened. Despite it being only 6, it was dark outside. You walked to the window to see that the sky was overcast. 

Deciding to listen to Jo’s sage advice, you made yourself grilled cheese and ate it as quickly as you could before getting to the mess that the house was in. Dean would be flabbergasted if he saw the condition of the place. You grabbed all the clothes and folded them neatly into two piles- yours and Jo’s. Seriously? Had there been a drunk fashion show? Then rounded up the empty bottles and put them in the trash can. It took you over an hour to clean the rest of the house.

At least Jo had put the mail inside on the table before leaving. You decided to put it in the drawer for when Aunt El returned from her weekend. As you were sliding it in, you noticed that one of them was addressed to you and on the letterhead of-

You hurriedly tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. Unfolding the first paper, you went through the content furiously for the words that you were looking for. As you read them, the paper slipped out of your hand, fell onto the table. You were running before you knew it, running out of the house and into the street. It had started raining outside and your feet slipped on the wet pavers of the sidewalks. Several times you slipped and fell, but you didn’t let that stop you. Each time you picked yourself up, running till you were drenched and out of breath, till you had reached his house.

You banged on the door, not stopping until it opened. Sam stood there, his annoyance swiftly melting into first surprise, then concern.

“Y/N!” He ushered you inside, quickly closing the door behind you. 

“Sam... S-Sam,” You tried to say and he immediately dragged you inside. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re shivering and soaked to the bone,” he fretted, seating you on the sofa and throwing a rug over you. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t deal with the cold!”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand to stop him from hovering over you. “I- I got in!”

He came to a halt. “What?”

“I got into North Carolina Central,” you finally managed through chattering teeth. “I got in!”

His grip on your arms loosened just for a second and then he was pulling you to him, kissing you with an emotion that probably didn’t have a name. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, pulling back, a grin of true happiness breaking across his face. “You did it, Y/N! You did it! This is incredible.”

You could see that he meant it. Each word. And his eyes were saying more than that, they were brimming with gratification. Instead of saying anything, you leaned forward and kissed him some more, deeply, pouring all your feelings into it, till a violent shiver ripped through you.

“Shit!” He swore. “You’ve got to get out of these. You can use my bathroom to wash. I'll get you some of my clothes. Not that they’d fit.” He scratched the back of his hair, looking nervous.

Anything to get out of these clothes. Now that you were so cold, you realised just how reckless it had been to get wet in the rain. 

“Come on.” Sam slowly led you upstairs to his room. “I’ll just turn the hot water on for you.”

You looked around Sam’s room as he disappeared in the bathroom. All the times that you had been to the house, he had never invited you up here. Not once. Looking around, you noticed how clean and organised the room was. There weren’t many personal touches, given how little time he had spent here in the past few years, but there was a picture on his table, of him and Dean, laughing at something. 

“In you go,” Sam said, coming out. “There’s a towel for you, and er... I’ll leave the clothes on the bed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled shyly and walked into the bathroom, clutching at your wet clothes. Locking the door, you stared at the girl in the mirror. She looked bright eyed and… happy. Like the whole world was at her feet. 

The hot shower did calm your nerves, soothing your skin and getting the mud out of your hair. It felt impolite to leave your clothes in the cloth basket at the foot of the sink, but what other choice did you have? Wrapping the towel around your body, you peeked out to make sure you were all by yourself, before stepping out. Sam had laid out a tshirt, a pair of boxers, sweat pants and even a sweater. You felt your face heated up at the sight of them. It felt so intimate to pull on the boxers. You pulled the T-shirt over your head next. It almost reached your lower thigh. Boldly, you decided to ditch the sweatpants, not feeling the need for them after a warm shower.

In the living room, Sam was tending to the fire, his back turned towards you. Feeling brave, you climbed down the staircase. Sam turned at the sound of your feet and his eyes widened, an audible gasp leaving his lips. The reaction was both flattering and encouraging as you walked towards him slowly and kneeled down in front of him. He gulped and breathed out, leaning back just a bit. You moved forward, caressing the side of his face. He sighed as if your touch pained him. 

“Is this not okay?” You breathed uncertainty. “Do you not want this?”

Maybe the hurt was clear on your face, because Sam drew your hand away from his face and placed it over his heart. Through the thin layer of his t-shirt, you could feel it pounding hard.

“Not want this?” He laughed breathily. “It feels like I’ve wanted nothing but you since I first saw you.”

You didn’t understand. “Then why don’t you ever-” you trailed off.

He took your face in his hands, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “Y/N/N,” he whispered and the hair on the back of your head stood straight at the intensity in his voice. He had never called you that before. “Don’t you see? You’re too good. I-I don’t think I’m saying it right… part of me feels that I don’t deserve this… I don’t deserve you.”

“Sam! What’re you talking about?”

He looked away, not meeting your eyes. It was something you couldn’t bear.

“Do you know what my first thought was, when I saw the acceptance?” You asked gently, placing your other hand which wasn’t resting over his heart, on his face, making him look at you. The very light stubble there prickled the skin of your palm. “That I had to tell you. It was enough to make me run in the rain, because I knew no one would be as happy for me as you would be!”

“I was happy because you deserve this and the world.” His eyes were a liquid galaxy. They held the universe’s power over you.

He still wasn’t getting it. “Sam,” you said, voice low. “I love you.”

His grip on your face slacked and his hands slid down to your shoulders, eyes roving all over your face, like he was trying to memorise every line, every curve of it.

“Y/N.” 

Your name falling from his lips did strange things to your body. Suddenly you were yanked forward and with none of the softness you had come to expect from Sam, but with a desperation that left you reeling. His fingers twisted in your hair and he was kissing you hungrily, like there was no tomorrow, like the world would cease to exist if stopped now. For you it would, if he stopped. You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling the tense roll of his muscles as his lips traveled down the column of your neck, leaving wet kisses in their wake.

And you? Your body was on fire. It didn’t hurt, just tingled so pleasantly that you never wanted it to stop. An incoherent moan left your mouth as you held on to Sam like dear life.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to form proper words, and then fumbled with the hem of his t-shirt. God, don’t stop now. Don’t stop ever.

Sam yanked his shirt off of over his head in one swift move and you were left to marvel at that carved out muscles. You ran your hands lightly over his chest, abs and stomach till the skin disappeared beneath the waistband his pants. 

His hands disappeared under your shirt, feeling the skin of your back and shoulders. You shivered and he pulled his hands back. 

“Do you want to go upstairs?” He was nervous, you realised. You dipped down to his chest.

“Yes.”

Before he could do anything else, you stuttered, “Sam?”

His eyes were wide, breath coming pants. “Yeah?”

“I-I’ve never done this before… I want to... but I don’t know how…” your voice trailed off and you looked down at his hands where they held yours. 

Sam placed one finger under your chin and titled it up so he could look into your eyes, “We’ll take it slow… only if you want to. And if you don’t-”

You put your finger to his lips. “I want to, really.” You might spontaneously combust if it didn’t happen now. 

That was all Sam needed to hear. He scooped you up in his arms, and carried you to the very bedroom you had just left. There was no fire here, but the room was dim and his bed was somehow already warm. He didn’t waste a second before his arms were circling your waist. You caught hold of the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it over your head. Sam gasped, his eyes doing that thing again which made you go all weak in the knees, made your bones soft.

“Can I?” His voice was oh so soft, and when you nodded, he pulled you back to him, chest against chest and skin against skin. You’d be damned if it wasn’t the most wonderful feeling in the world.

“God, I love you,” he breathed into your hair. “I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I can’t believe that you feel the same way.” He kissed your forehead. “And you’re so beautiful. Each time I look at you, you take my breath away. What are you doing to me?”

This was what touched you the most about being with him. He treated you like the most precious blessing in the world, like you were some special favour granted to him by destiny when you were just… you. The only reason you could tell him that you loved him so freely was because you knew he felt the same way. How could you not know, when he looked at you like you were his wish come true? His every gesture, every word just went to further prove it. 

But he did try to prove it for every moment of the night, with his touches, kisses and reverences. He tried to prove it over and over. Later, exhausted, after he had fallen asleep, you lay with your head over his arm, thinking that he needn’t have tried at all. You would forever remember that he loves you. It was the one thing you would never question.

*************************

A/N 2: *Wiggles eyebrows* Finally some action eh? ;) Let me know what you think about it. The next chapter is mostly in present times and pretty crucial for the progress of the story, if I do say so myself ;)

Once again, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who commented and reblogged. You are AWESOME!

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@feelmyroarrrr  @gabavaldman  @im-a-light-child  @cosicas-cuquis  @bllyjianne  @hoboal87  @i-is-for-inspiring  @daughterleftbehind  @wackiekebab  @mylovelydame21   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba  @superbadassnatural  @bellastellaluna  @babypink224221  @badlittlehabit99  @anathewierdo  @sams-bubblegum-bitch  @damn-it-now-im-obsessed  @fandomoverdose666  @superstarmarvel  @atc74  @aiofheavenandhell  @rebel-author-chick  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​  @kbl1313​  @linki-locks11​  @miss-nerd95​  @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​

[anonsally]

Days 0-1 of mini-trip to Pinnacles National Park

tl;dr: The trip did not start off well last Friday, but was great once we got to the park! Photos here.

Day 0

We had planned to pick up the rental car at noon. However, not only did we go a little bit late, but when we got the car, it... was a car they should not have rented out. It smelled strongly of cigarette smoke--but by the time I figured out it was the car, not just the air around where I got into it, I was already out of the parking lot and was so flustered trying to get the hang of driving an unfamiliar car, that I didn’t turn back to complain and trade it in... I just drove it home. (Wife had returned home in our car already.) Then, as I arrived home, I realised the car also smelled like liquor! We called the rental car company, who said we could bring it back and trade it in. So as not to lose any more time, we finished packing and loaded all our luggage and food into the smelly car and drove it back. We had to wait a little while for new car (which was also smaller at our request and thus easier to drive), and then we had to transfer all of our stuff from the smelly car into the new one, but we finally set off around 3pm. 

Which, on a Friday afternoon, is a Really Bad Time to be trying to leave the Bay area.

The drive, which should have been about 2.5 hours without traffic, took well over 4 hours. It was stop-and-go traffic a lot of the way, and very exhausting. But we finally did arrive before sunset, and we grilled some zucchini and halloumi for dinner. We saw bunnies and lizards, and heard a coyote and some sort of night bird that flew past.

We went to bed earlier than usual, both because there wasn’t good wifi and because we were getting up early the next morning. I had set my alarm for 7:30.

Day 1

Unfortunately, I only slept about 5 hours, probably a little less. I woke up spontaneously at 4:49am and could not fall back asleep. Around 6:10 I gave up on sleep and got up. I ate breakfast (it was already pretty warm out) and then tried to take a shower. There was a terrible few minutes where I thought there was no hot water and I ended up sobbing with exhaustion and frustration--it was our first trip in a year and a half and I’d been looking forward to it so much and everything was going wrong and all I wanted was a hot shower--but then I tried again and waited longer and the water finally got hot.

While waiting for Wife to be ready to go to the park, I walked around admiring the views and the wildlife. We were staying somewhere pretty remote, and aside from the bunnies and lizards and ground squirrels, there were lots of birds: Say’s phoebes, barn swallows (including a nest with young nearly ready to fledge!), house finches, and Anna’s hummingbirds. (I only saw those 4 kinds, but they were abundant!)

We left for the park a little behind schedule, which made me anxious. We had been told to arrive before 8am to be sure to get a parking space at the trailhead, but that was hopeless, so we had intended to get there by 9:30 when the auxiliary parking was likely to be filling up. In the end we were even later than that, but it turned out that the park is much less crowded after Memorial Day, so we needn’t have worried. We could park at the trailhead after all! So from then on, the day was pretty great!

We set off on the Juniper Canyon Trail to meet the High Peaks loop for a “lollipop” shaped hike. Although it’s only 4.5 miles, this was an ambitious hike because:

the elevation gain was 1260 feet (384m),

it was very hot,

we haven’t been hiking much recently, and

I had barely slept.

But the High Peaks are where the California condors are, so I was determined to try.

I had brought plenty of water and started drinking it early in the hike. Aside from a blood sugar crisis early on (in which I felt shaky and nauseated and had to sit down by the trail even though it wasn’t a great spot to stop, but I revived after a couple of bites of a dried fruit bar and some water), I did really well, resting when necessary, snacking periodically, drinking frequently, and appreciating the expansive views (nary a city in sight in any direction), the weird rock formations, and the assorted lichens. 

We saw a scrub jay early in the hike; once we were higher up, there were lots and lots of turkey vultures, a few crows, and also many swallows (@lies: I couldn’t identify them. They had a very distinctive black-and-white sort of T-shaped pattern on the underside, but they were flying quickly and I never got a look at their upper parts. Any thoughts?). 

When we were pretty close to the “steep and narrow” section the book had warned about (not suitable for those who are scared of heights, a warning I ignored despite being somewhat scared of heights), I saw a California condor soar past! but by the time Wife looked up it had disappeared behind a big rock. I think that one was number 745; if so, he hatched in the wild! It was definitely a green tag with a 4 on it; another possibility is 747, a female (naturally named Boeing) who hatched in the LA Zoo and is part of the Big Sur flock.

The “steep and narrow” section of the High Peaks loop trail does indeed have some steep and narrow stretches, in which foot-holes have been carved into the rock to make one-lane “stairs”. However, it was much less treacherous than I had feared: there are very sturdy handrails, so it never felt scary to me. 

Eventually we got up to a wider, flatter section between the big rocky pinnacles and found two guys with a spotting scope they had focussed on condor number 692, who was hanging out at the tippy top of one of the pinnacle rocks. They let us look through the scope (I even managed to get a photo!) and we chatted with them for a bit about the condors. Then, after reaching the highest point of the hike and just starting to come down the other side, we saw another condor soaring up. It might have been number 726 (definitely a green tag with a 2 on it, could also have been 725 or 729), who is 692’s mate; it landed near 692. 725 is part of the Pinnacles flock; the other two possibilities are part of the Big Sur flock, but since members of the two flocks mate with each other, they obviously do travel back and forth.

So that was very exciting and made the hike worth it, though of course the views were spectacular enough to be worth it anyway!

We eventually found a slightly shady spot to sit and eat lunch before hiking the rest of the way down. I ran out of water pretty near the end of the hike, but Wife still had an extra little bottle of juice for me to drink to tide me over until we reached the parking lot, where there was a water faucet. 

We drove back to where we were staying and I tried unsuccessfully to nap. We had a brief swim in the pool, then there was a little wine-tasting, then easy sandwiches for dinner and we headed to bed early. I was utterly wiped out, but very pleased with the day nonetheless.

Photos to follow!

[writer-room]

Well, Could’ve Been Worse

AO3

Summary: No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important. His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely. His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person. If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him. Also known as: Tim makes stupid decisions when on a caffeine crash + sleep deprivation. Kon, sadly, has to deal with that at the worst hours.

Kon’s powers were...weird. Unstable, if you wanted to be specific. Not as bad as it used to be, but it still wasn’t the same as Clark’s. Thank you again, Luthor. 

Which means that if he’s conscious enough to check every now and again, he can do the whole ‘call my name and I’ll be there in about four seconds’ schtick, but it didn’t go so well when he was asleep. Cassie said he slept like the dead, to which Bart insisted that if there was ever food involved, he’d be wide awake faster than he could run across a room. 

Both were ridiculous, but whatever.

Tim, at least, had tried to assure Kon that surely Clark couldn’t hear disasters going on when he was asleep. Tim wasn’t one who was often wrong, but Kon was willing to play a risky betting game on this one.

It made sleeping a little anxiety-inducing for a while, knowing that if something happened. he wouldn’t know anything about it until he woke up. Tim had said that it was normal to hate sleeping because of hero business. 

Kon always thought of that comment every time he caught Tim awake at ungodly hours for days on end, staying up purely because of caffeine and spite. He should probably bring that up sometime. 

The point was, Kon didn’t hear things when he was asleep. Which could be a good and bad thing in its own right. He isn’t, however, impervious to an obnoxiously loud ringing going off by his head.

.

Kon snorted as he woke, his phone ringing eerily sudden in the quiet of the Cave. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d passed out on the couch in the Cave. He suspiciously remembered something involving Cassie and arm wrestling landing him here, but he was too tired to care about that now.

His phone was on the ground beside him, a wonder nobody had stepped on it, especially Bart. It rang painfully loud, though that was probably because it was the first sound he’d heard in the past...however many hours it’d been. Kon resigned himself to slowly reaching down and pulling his phone up as he leaned against the arm of the couch. No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important. 

His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely.

His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person.

If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him.

That’s a lie, he wouldn’t. Cassie, however, would kill him if he told her. So he could probably settle for that.

With a sigh, Kon mentally prepared to hear incoherent rambling he’d need to find Bart to interpret, and accepted the call.

“It’s two in the morning, Tim.” Was the first thing he said, letting his annoyance seep in.

“It’s like, two twenty-four,” Tim’s voice rasped over the phone, far scratchier than normal. “So if you woke up at normal times like everyone else, this wouldn’t be as big an issue.”

“You are not the person to be telling me how to go about my sleep schedule.” Kon scolded lightly. “So I sleep in till noon, so what?”

“You woke up at three--” Tim cut off with a series of coughing coming through. “--p.m yesterday.”

“Not the point,” Kon muttered. “Why are you calling? I thought you were still in the Cave?”

There was shuffling on the other line, and Tim’s voice came through more faded, like he was further from the phone.

“Oh, yeah, left a few hours ago on patrol,” Tim wheezed. “Thought I’d be back before Bart woke up. He’s been wakin’ at like...six a.m or something.”

“Tim,” Kon started.

“It was barely a patrol,” Tim puffed. “More like...doin' rounds and...grabbing something from Denny’s.”

Tim’s words were slurring here and there. He did so a lot when he started having caffeine withdrawal or was coming down from a Red Bull rush. Or was sleep deprived. None of those options were comforting.

“Did you find some villains?” Kon inquired, praying that there was a less ridiculous reason he was being woken up so late. “You need backup or something?”

“Woulda called like...the headquarters if I did, dude.”

Yeah, something was wrong.

“What’s this all about, then?” Kon asked, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch and standing. “Where are you?”

“Okay, okay,” Tim mumbled, his voice closer to the phone now. “Uh, you know...the Denny’s...but it’s by that weird tiny mall with the Starbucks?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about...two streets over from that. By a bustop. Don’t worry, don’t worry, street lamps are out.” Tim assured quickly.

“The street lamps are out?” Kon repeated.

“Broke ‘em.”

“Course you did,” Kon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood up. “Seriously, man, what’s going on? What happened?”

“M’fine,” Tim lied, poorly. “Just don’t like...tell Cassie. She’ll kill me. With her eyeballs.”

“Tim, I’m way too tired for you to dodge around questions right now.” Kon groaned. “What happened and why do you need me? If you're not answering this outright, I’m hanging up and going back to bed.”

That’s also a lie. A bad one, at that. He’d probably stay on the phone all night if Tim needed him to. Though he’d definitely try and wake Cassie or Bart to help him out, he’s not that loyal.

“I was getting to it!” Tim whined, and oh wow, he must really be delirious. Bart was gonna be so mad if there weren’t any videos later. “I just kinda...wasn’t payin’ attention n’ stuff.”

“Paying attention to what?” 

“The road,”

Kon froze.

“What?”

“Got hit by a car,” Tim slurred. “S’cool though, got outta there fast. Happened like...five streets back.”

“What the hell, Tim?” Kon nearly dropped his phone, remembering last-minute to grab his jacket off the floor as he started to race to the nearest exit out of the Cave. “You need to start with the ‘I got hit by a car’ part, not correcting what time it is!”

“There was time,” Tim mumbled. “I’m not dyin’ or anything.”

“You were hit by a car.” Kon stressed, already in the air. Thank you, inhuman speed.

“But I’m not dying,” Tim said simply. “Doesn’t count. Just hurts like a b--”

“Hang on, I’m nearby.” Kon talked over him, landing on a rooftop. The streets had grown recognizable fast, and thankfully, if Tim was right about his coordinates, he wasn’t that far from the Justice Cave. Probably wasn’t smart to fly at ridiculous speeds at two in the morning when he was barely awake, but he was too preoccupied to care.

“Oh, cool.” 

Kon shoved his phone in his pocket as he flew down from the rooftops, far slower this time. He scanned the streets quickly, almost skimming right over the bus stop Tim was at. The lack of light, plus his darker costume, was not helping matters.

Sure enough, Tim was where he said he’d be. He wasn’t even sitting on the bench. More like dramatically draped over it with his arms keeping him upright and legs strewn behind him. The nearest street lamps had been shattered, probably with whatever Tim carried in his utility belt these days.

And Christ, Tim was a mess.

He must’ve been wearing a concealer, or it was extra pronounced tonight, because he had heavy bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess and falling into his eyes, his mask slightly askew. His costume wasn’t in awful shape, but his cape was twisted around so that it hung sideways rather than regularly situated on his back, and he had a few small tears here and there. Aside from the palms of his gloves, those had bigger tears. Plus he had scuffs of gravel and dirt.

And blood, there was blood, too. Blood on his hands, knees, and smears on the side of his face. But all in all, he looked more dazed and bruised than anything.

“No big deal, huh?” Kon said, crouching down beside his friend.

“Had worse,” Tim mumbled, resting his cheek on the bench. “M’just tired, really.” 

“That all?” Kon sighed, taking off his jacket as he debated if it would be worth it to patch up the small amount of bleeding he could see.

“Breathin’s being weird, too.” Tim added, as an afterthought. “Think I fractured something.”

“Of course you did,” Kon groaned, reaching out and turning Tim around so he was sitting upright, leaning against the bench.

Tim hissed in pain at the movement, eyes shutting for a moment as Kon paused, anxiously looking him over.

“Please don’t tell me you broke a rib,” Kon begged, more to himself than Tim as he reached out to feel his side.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Tim yelped, cringing away.

“Hospital,” Kon decided with a nod and a grimace. “You need a hospital.”

“I’m Red Robin,” Tim complained. “Can’t go to hospital. Dad would kill me.” He insisted, dramatically thunking his head back on the bench and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Medical attention, then.” Kon said. “At least until you pass out so we can take you to a hospital when you can’t complain about it.”

“You're so mean,” Tim whined, shifting his arm slightly to give Kon a glare. “Bart wouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Bart would probably be having a panic attack.”

“S’why I called you,” Tim mumbled, slumping down and off the side of the bench, leaving Kon to jump and support Tim’s head before it conked against the concrete. “Cassie woulda yelled at me.”

“She’s definitely going to yell at you now,” Kon agreed, gently keeping his hand on the back of Tim’s head as he pushed him back upright. “How did this even happen? Don’t you have ridiculously fast reflexes or something?”

“It was a hit n’ run, I know it was.” Tim rasped, weakly shaking a fist.

“You said you fled the scene.”

“Was still totally a hit n’ run,”

Kon sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument tonight. None of the bleeding was concerning, so instead he settled for dumping his jacket over Tim’s shoulders. He also picked up Tim’s phone from where it’d been discarded on the pavement, shoving it in one of the jackets pockets.

“Pretty sure you're just too tired to notice anything,” He muttered quietly, scooping his arms underneath Tim’s knees and back.

“Was gonna get more coffee, swear it.” Tim mumbled, letting himself go completely limp as Kon picked him up. “Came outta nowhere,”

“Next time I catch you pulling all-nighters, I’m sitting on you till you get proper sleep.” Kon threatened, giving Tim a half-hearted shake as he rose into the air. 

“If you catch me,” Tim said cheerfully, giving a crooked smile.

Would’ve been a lot more charming if it weren’t for the fact it reopened what was apparently a still-healing cut on his lip.

Not that it was charming to begin with. Injured best friend, not the time. Kon shook his head.

“I’m Superboy, it won’t be hard.” Kon boasted, flying at a grudgingly slower speed back to the Cave. It probably wouldn’t help Tim if he went back at the same speed he arrived, the base wasn’t that far, anyway.

“You miss things all the time,” Tim huffed, raising a weak hand to presumably poke at Kon’s face, but ended up just flailing it around.

“Psh, not that often.” Kon rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, you do,” Tim insisted, letting his head hang back, staring upside-down at the ground below them. “Obvious things. Miss ‘em all the time.”

“Like what?” Kon pressed. “And you're not allowed to say anything about the Justice League, they don’t count.”

Tim went quiet. Kon wondered for a brief, terrifying moment, that Tim really had passed out from his adrenaline rush before they made it to base. But then Tim raised his head and he could breathe easy.

Tim stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. It was his ‘I’m not sure if you're being sarcastic or actually an idiot’ face, which, honestly, could be better classified as ‘I’m judging you for being an idiot’ face, considering the circumstances he used it in.

Kon met his gaze, more than a little curious. Normally Tim would’ve started rattling off all the things he’s oblivious to on a daily basis. The hesitation was...well, not normal. He chalked it up to Tim being loopy from his whole ordeal.

“Stuff,” Tim decided, his head falling back to its original position so fast that Kon cringed.

“Descriptive,” Kon sighed, grateful for the sight of the Cave, speeding their flight. 

“Shut up, I’m tired and broken.” Tim mumbled, his voice laced with drowsiness. 

“Then maybe, and here’s a thought,” Kon said, landing just outside the Cave. “You don’t go days without sleep to the point you get hit by a car of all things.”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but Kon talked right over him.

“I know, I know, it’s very difficult to ask of you.” He said, his playful snooty tone lessened by the smugness that seeped in. “But with the right routine, I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“You sound like a horrifying combination of Alfred and Dick.” Tim grumbled, no less limp as Kon carried him inside the base. “I wish you had your sunglasses so I could break them--wait,” Tim raised his head again, squinting at Kon. “Where’s your glasses?”

“Didn’t really have time to grab them after, you know, you woke me up at two in the morning and stalled in telling me you were bleeding at a bus stop.” Kon snarked.

“It was two twenty-four,” Tim muttered quietly, drawing his arms up to his chest and looking away.

And dammit, Kon was almost convinced Krypto was rubbing off on Tim too much. The guy looked like a puppy after stealing food from the table. Which, frankly, was something Kon would also do if he had to eat the same thing every day. Clark hadn’t seen it that way, but whatever.

Kon held back a sigh, shuffling through the hallways. He could probably put Tim on the couch, right? Christ, Cassie was gonna bite off his head for waking her up.

“Just be careful, alright?” Kon murmured, resituating Tim in his arms. He got slippery after a while. “You don’t need to be up at all hours of the night to patrol,” He said, frowning to himself.

Tim reached up one of his arms and looped it around Kon’s neck, aiding Kon in holding him properly. His face turned to the side and pressed into Kon’s chest, huffing.

“You have your family to look after Gotham at night, anyway. That helps, doesn’t it?” Kon added.

“S’not the same,” Tim mumbled, his voice muffled.

Kon would’ve argued, really, he often does, but tonight just wasn’t the night. Tim was too battered for much of anything to sink in, and honestly, he was still tired. And he was pretty sure if he spent another ten minutes around Tim with nobody else to buffer, his common sense was going to finally kick in and make him start freaking out even more.

“At least take someone with you,” Kon settled on, craning his neck down so he could press his nose into Tim’s hair. It was still frazzled and greasy. “Bart’s already awake at ungodly hours. Jinny’s down for almost anything. Hell, I’d come with you if you asked.”

“You’d come without me asking.” Tim muffled, and Kon swore if he could see Tim’s face he’d be smirking. “Besides, you complain.”

“I complain, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.” Kon huffed, slowly moving his head back as he came to the couch he had, previously, been having a rather nice sleep on. “And honestly, if someone like you can end up getting hit by a regular car of all things, you probably shouldn’t be out on the streets on your own.”

“Piss off, it’s a bad night.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kon rolled his eyes, slowly leaning down so he could place Tim on the couch.

“Ow,” Tim groaned, his arm tightening around Kon’s neck as he was set down, his other hand coming up to fist the side of his uniform.

“Scale of one to ten, how bad can you guess it is?” Kon winced, slowly slipping his hands out from under Tim.

“Mm, well, it's not broken.” Tim slurred, refusing to unwrap his arm from Kon’s neck, leaving the super to awkwardly bend forward. “Probably just cracked. If it was broken, I would've lost a lung by now.”

“Ah,” Kon hummed anxiously, raising a hand to unwrap Tim’s arm from him. “That...is a nice thought.”

“Just told you it wasn’t broken,” Tim grumbled, glaring up at Kon as his arm was pried free.

“Your way of being comforting isn’t the best,” Kon admitted with a tilt of his head, stepping back. “Now you stay here, alright? I’m gonna get Cassie.”

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim groaned, pawing at his face until he caught the edge of his domino mask. “After today, I would’ve been better dumped in a ditch.” 

“It’s still nighttime,” Kon reminded.

“Details,” Tim waved his free hand, the other peeling off his mask and letting it fall to the floor.

“Whatever, just don’t move.” Kon warned, pointing a finger close to Tim’s face. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, and the sight of that only added to the pit that was opening in Kon’s chest.

“Aye aye, captain.” Tim mumbled, giving a half-hearted salute before letting his arm dangle off the couch. The other came up to clutch at the jacket still around his shoulders, turning his head into it.

Kon has never so badly wished he’d taken his phone out of his jacket earlier so he could take a picture. Never, he swears.

And, of course, he also wished Tim wasn’t injured. That was the main issue here, really.

Kon hesitated, stepping around the couch and glancing back. Tim was never known to stay put when asked, but it seemed this time he was being merciful. 

One friend down, two more to survive.

Could’ve gone worse, he reasoned as he creeped (in a poor attempt at being quiet) down the hallways towards Cassie’s room. A car was nothing. Except for a reminder that, unlike the rest of them, Tim wasn’t superpowered--but that was an anxiety for Tim to get offended about later. 

And if Tim woke up hours later in a hospital, with Dick on the other line and Cassie seconds away from cracking the rest of his bones herself, at least Kon could rest easy knowing that he wouldn’t be pulling that stunt again any time soon. Or at least be more careful. He’d take what he could get.

[spideyy-girl]

Training ~ Richie Tozier

Requested by anon: Hey, first of all, LOVED the Richie imagine and I love the fact that you write for The Umbrella Academy. My sister likes MCR and got me into that show and I love it! Anyways, I’d like to request a Richie x Reader with 9, and 21 I think? It’s: “I hate you” “Love you too, darling” and: “Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you” Or something. Anyways, thank you love!

9: “sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you”

28: “I hate you” “love you too, darling”

Summary: Richie wants to play at the arcade but Y/N wants to sleep in and some things are said.

Fandom: IT (2017)

Warnings: lots of swearing (this IS a Richie fic), love confession, cringey writing

Word Count: 1984 (5.3 pages)

Date: May 10, 2019

A/N: Ok this took way too long, and I am so so sorry about that. I was having major writing block but I’m feeling back on my game again now. Also, the new IT Ch2 trailer has me sCrEaMiNg.

Y/N laid on her stomach in her bed, head borrowed into her pillows as soft snores left the girls slightly open mouth, a small wet spot of drool forming on her pillow. The sun shone brightly through her large window beside her bed, birds chirping loudly on the branches just outside her window, yet she slept on. Today was the first day summer vacation, and the teenage girl was more than happy to sleep in until past noon like she currently was.

Well, that was the original plan. But suddenly she feels cold water crashing down onto her mess of hair and down her back, startling the girl awake as she sits up straight in her bed. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes to see what caused the chaos, only to see one of her closest friends, Richie Tozier, standing at the side of her bed, a wide smirk on his face as he holds back his laughter.

"What the fuck, Richard?" She almost screams as she quickly throws the covers off of her and getting out of her bed. At this point, Richie's smirk had only grown wider, putting the now empty glass on her bedside table and leaning against the wall, pushing op his glasses as he examined her.

"You weren't answering my calls," said Richie simply, shrugging his shoulder. "So I thought I might pay you a visit to see what was so important to be ignoring your favourite person in the world." He smiled at her as she stopped and just stared at him in disbelief. After glaring at him for a few seconds, she shook her head and went over to her closet to find something to wear that wasn't completely soaked. 

"How the hell did you even get in here?" She asked as she pulled out a shirt and signalled for the boy to turn around sh=o she could change, which he did after some silent arguing. 

"Easy. You hide a key under the mat in front of your house," he says, still facing the wall. "You should probably move that to a safer place, you know. That's like the most simple place to keep a spare key."

"Just shut up," Y/N said as she turned Richie around to face her again once she changed into a new outfit that didn't consist of fuzzy pyjama pants. "What do you want?"

"Training starts today!" He says, hitting her shoulder and looking at her like she was dumb. The look was given right back to him as she sighs and walks out of her room and downstairs, Richie following close behind.

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" She asks as she goes into the kitchen and takes out two bowls and starts pouring cereal into both of them. "You woke me up over this bullshit? What do you mean by training?" She pours in the milk and grabs two spoons, putting one in each bowl and handing the cereal to Richie, who gladly accepted it and started chomping down.

"Street Fighter, duh," he says as he chews on his cereal. Y/N grabs his free hand and puts it in front of his mouth, telling him to "cover up your mouth, that's disgusting." to which Richie only rolled his eyes back as a response, but kept his hand held up. "C'mon, Y/N. I told you about this literally yesterday. You said you'd come to the ar ade with me cause the guys are ditching me!"

Y/N groans as she slams down her bowl of cereal, some of the milk splashing out of the little bowl. "Rich, it's the first day of summer! I was supposed to sleep the entire day away. You know my sleeping schedule has been shit for months."

Richie looked down, starting to feel bad for waking her up. It was true, ever since the kids in Derry started disappearing, starting with one of their best friends little brothers, Y/N hasn't been able to get out of her head. She has told him that she was getting usually less than 3 hours of sleep per night, and it only got worse from there. Richie sighed, and looked back up, making eye contact with her beautiful Y/E/C orbs. 

"Alright, let's crack a deal then," he says, his voice sounding not so cocky anymore. "We go to the arcade, and you battle me on Street Fighter. And if you manage to beat me, we'll go home and sleep for the rest of the day."

"Richie, that's so unfair!" she says, throwing her arms up before putting them back down to her sides. "You know I'm shit at Street Fighter! I'm shit at all video games!" He smiled at her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out the door.

"Yeah, trust me I know," he says as he goes to grab her bike for her and hands it off to her as he gets on his own. "And that is exactly why we need to do some training! You'll be the best Street Fighter out there by the end of the summer!" Y/N groans as she gets on her own bike, buckling her helmet.

"You know what Richie, I hate you," she says as the pair starts peddling off the driveway and onto the street, making their way to the arcade. Richie looks over to the girl he's known for as long as he can remember and smiles at the all too familiar phrase.

"Love you too, darling," he replies, just as he always does whenever she says that too him. Y/N can't help the smile that stretches across her face, wondering if one day maybe he would say that to her without the sarcasm behind it. 

Y/N had to admit that she had a little crush on the four-eyed boy. Well, that would be an underexagguration. Y/N had practically been in love with the boy riding down the street beside her for almost two years now. It started as a small crush in 5th grade, but young Y/N quickly dismissed it, remembering her other small crush on Stanley just a few months before and that was still slightly present. But as weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, Y/N had to admit to herself that this was more than just a slight infatuation. 

Soon enough, the teens had made their way to the arcade, the bright neon sign flickering the words 'Derry's Best Arcade!'. They walked in and firstly got a slushie from the counter and some tokens to spend on the Street Fighter game. Once they were set with extra large slushies in their hands and a solo cup full to the brim of tokens, they started on their so-called "training" as Richie called it earlier. They were in the dimmed arcade for at least an hour and a half, but neither of them were really keeping track, both of them determined to win. Y/N wanted to win so she could get back into her comfy bed as soon as possible, while Richie was continuing to win to make sure that didn't happen, and he could spend more time with the girl.

After three-fourths of the tokens in the cup have been used up Y/N groaned and started walking away from the machine, pacing back and forth through the aisles of other games. "This is useless, Richie!" she yelled at him once she came back to stand next to him. "It feels like I'm only getting worse at this stupid game! Why did I even agree to come here with you! This is so dumb!"

"Hey, calm down," says Richie, grabbing her shoulders in a way to try and calm her down. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. It's about having fun!"

"Well, I was having plenty of fun before, IN MY BED, where I wanted to be!" she yells back, the sleep deprivation starting to get to her head, quite literally and giving her headaches. "God, sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you," she says, still not thinking straight, and quickly covering her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut once she realizes what she said. Richie only watched the girl, his mocking face falling clean off to an unreadable one, something Y/N has never seen on the boy.

"Y-you love me?" he asks, his voice going so quiet that the other sounds of the arcade almost drowned it out, but she somehow still heard him. She felt tears starting to well up in her eyes. "oh fuck oh fuck, what did I do?!" she thinks to herself. She tries to cover up by laughing, her head facing down so he couldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Yeah, of course silly," she says, trying to act casual. "We've discussed this. I love you and Bill and Eddie and Stan-"

"I don't think that's what you meant," he said as he walks closer to her. "And I know that's definitely not what I meant." he stands right in front of her now, hoping she would look up at him and tell him the truth he wanted to hear. But all he got was hearing the small sniffles coming from her, and he knew she was starting to cry. He took her arm gently and brought her outside, bringing her down to sit on the curb. "Hey, baby, please can you talk to me?" he asks quietly. Y/N was shocked by his tone of voice, Richie was never soft with anyone, and it was odd hearing this side of him.

"I'm sorry, Richie," she whispers, still not being able to look up at him. She didn't want him to see her like this, and she knew she couldn't face him after her confession. "Can we just forget this ever happened? I didn't want to say anything because I don't want to ruin our friendship. I can't lose you."

Richie reaches up and grabs her chin, forcing her head up to look at him. He could feel his heart break as he saw her already red puffy eyes. He gave her a soft smile. "You could never ruin our friendship. Besides, you didn't even ask me how I felt?" He suggests, his famous smirk growing back onto his face as he looks back at the girl. She laughs, shaking her head.

"I really don't think I want to do that," she says, biting her lip.

"Trust me, I think you'll want to hear what I have to say," he says to her, smiling still. After a moment of silence, in which Richie realized she wasn't going to say anything, he spoke for himself. "I love you too, Y/N. Like, a lot." This caught Y/N's attention, looking up at him in surprise, her mouth falling open slightly. He laughs at her, using his index finger to reach up and close her mouth. "Don't keep your mouth open, darling, you'll catch flies." Y/N can't help but laugh, shaking her head. Suddenly she flew herself at the boy and engulfed him into a hug. He could only smile as he wrapped his arms around, his grin widening as he felt her put her head into the crook of his neck.

"Thank you, Richie, for everything," she mumbled into his neck as he laughed and pulled away, still holding her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, doll," he says, his old demeanour coming back as he helped her up. "Now, let's forget about Street Fighter. I'm starting to think an all day nap isn't that bad." He smiled as she laughed. So the two head back home and crawled under the still damp covers of the girl's single bed, and as promised they slept the whole day away.

[squishysvt]

the waves aren’t that bad (my feelings for you are stronger)

Member: Renjun (NCT)

Word Count: 3.7k+

A/N a good old summer au for the soul also i’m fairly sure part of this ended up being like my last jun (svt) au Please don’t @ me i already know lmao -Admin Ay

        Water sprayed on your face as you stood against the rails of the boardwalk. There were a group of children running back and forth behind you with half of their ice cream cones dripping all over their shirts. You liked to sneak away from your home and watch as the boats moved in and out of the harbor.

Living in a lake town was really quiet in the winter. Houses on the shore were empty, the residents floated through the streets boredly, and the occasional dedicated fisherman sat on the docks with their hook in the water. Summer, when the sun obnoxiously beat on everyone’s skin, was when the town was as busy as Times Square. Well, at least you liked to think it was. You had never been.

Very often you would be able to spot the people who were in town for a vacation. They were louder, younger, and brighter amongst the residents who grew tired of seeing the same things every day. In technicality, yes you were also a lifelong resident, but in your heart you were just like the fresh faced tourists that drifted through annually.

“Honey–”

You jolted in your spot at the sound of the voice behind you. Knowing exactly who it was, you winced as you turned around to face your mother.

“Jesus kid, how many times do I have to tell you about being so close to the lake? It isn’t safe!”

Your groaned as your mother yanked you away, her grip paralleled with that of a bear’s. Part of you wanted to whine about how overbearing you mom was being, but you also understood it.

Your dad had died in the water. His boat too small and too far from the shore on such a stormy night. So rather than complaining whenever you were denied permission to go play in the deep water with friends, you would listen and find something to do by yourself.

“Hey, Mom? Could you at least let me go?”

Steps faltering, she did as requested and rubbed her hands on her pants. Your mother cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Go stop by the corner store before coming home, alright? We need more juice and and eggs.”

You sighed and nodded, splitting from your mother. You decided to go ahead and run the errand as you had nothing else to do. A loose rock on the ground kept you entertained throughout your journey as you kicked it, not having to pay much attention to your direction. You knew the town like the back of your hand.

Getting to the shop did not take long, with it being located two blocks away from the boardwalk, just on the edge of the gated residents. It’s where all the rich people lived, or stayed rather, in their large lake houses during vacation. The area was beautiful from what you could decipher whenever you got curious enough to peek through the gates.

As you walked in you saw a boy looking quite exasperated as he dug in his pockets. The cashier, Donghyuck (you were familiar with him, he typically worked the day shift)(he might have also been in your class once? He tended to stay to himself), tapped his foot loudly against the floor.

Finally, the boy huffed and dropped his hands.

“Sorry, I’ll just take the milk then.”

You noticed the pack of gel pens that the boy also had placed on the counter. Donghyuck began to slide the pens away before you stepped in.

“How much are they?”

The boy jumped as you settled next to him. Donghyuck looked at you tiredly.

“10 bucks.”

The boy gasped, eyes wide as he looked at you.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to!”

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it. Its my good deed of the week.”

Donghyuck snorted at the conflicted look on the boy’s face.

“Just take it, man.”

You hummed as you slid a ten dollar bill from your pocket and handed it to Donghyuck.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear.” said the boy.

You rolled your eyes. Then, an idea made way into your head.

“How about you tell me your name and you can help me carry my groceries home?”

“Its Renjun,” the boy said, shy smile stuck on his face as he took his now paid for items and followed you to the produce section.

        You and Renjun fell into a comfortable rhythm as you talked. It wasn’t as if you were conversing about anything profound, just small talk. Unlike most small talk, filled with forced smiles and awkward pauses, it felt like you were catching up to an old friend. You learned that Renjun was only staying the summer with his aunt (she stayed in one of the fenced off lake houses) and that he liked to draw in his free time (hence the neat gel pens he were struggling to buy). Renjun learned that you lived with your mom in a condo above a flower shop (his eyes lit up at the fact).

Time flew, and before the both of you knew it, you were standing right in front of the said flower shop. Renjun began to turn around, but you couldn’t help that you wanted to stay with him longer.

“I guess I’ll just–”

“Uhm, do you want to come inside?”

Even to your own ears you sounded terribly desperate. Despite that, Renjun grinned.

“Sure, I mean,” he frowned, “is that okay? With your mom?”

You nodded, “Don’t worry about it.”

Your mother being fine with Renjun would be an understatement. She was quite charmed with how polite he was. She even had the gall to wink at you (very conspicuously, may you add) when you recounted the events that led to you becoming friends.

Your mother giggled at one of Renjun’s stories about his friends back at his home town. Then, she shot up at the sound of her phone alarm dinging.

“Ah, I have to pull my lasagna out the oven.” she scurried into the kitchen area.

Renjun leaned towards you, making eye contact. He mouthed the words “I love your mom,” causing you to snicker. Your mother placed the lasagna on the kitchen island and started decorating the countertop with other food items.

“Hey, sweetie, ask Renjun if he wants to stay for dinner!”

You rolled your eyes, as if Renjun couldn’t hear her.

Said boy glanced out the window and gasped. The sun was starting to set on the horizon. You caught on and placed a reassuring hand on Renjun’s shoulder.

“Actually, Mom, I don’t think he can. He was probably supposed to bring his milk home a long time ago.”

Renjun gasped again, “I totally forgot about the milk.”

Your mother laughed at that.

“That’s fine! I’d love to have you over another night, though.”

You looked at Renjun hopefully, and he smiled back at you.

“Of course, thank you for having me over!”

You stood up, making your way towards the door, “I’ll walk you out.”

You watched as Renjun gathered his things and shuffled your way. Once out of the building you both could hear your mother yelling from out the window.

“Come by whenever you want, young man!”

Your mother’s enthusiasm cracked him up, and the sound made you feel giddy. When he finally calmed down, Renjun cleared his throat and started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. You tapped your foot, trying to think of something to say.

“If you don’t have anything to do, you can come over tomorrow and hang around the shop.” You said, ending more on a question.

“Definitely.” Renjun said.

You didn’t notice the tightness in your chest until it was gone. With that, Renjun waved and finally left. He vanished around a street corner, and the remnants of his shadow followed.

        The next day, you were awoken by the sound of your phone dinging. You groaned and grabbed for the device. The screen said that it was five past noon, which caused you to groan again. Getting your sleep schedule back in check will be a pain.

Still sleepy, it took you a second to find out what was the cause of the noise that woke you up. It was Renjun, causing your eyes to open a little wider. He had sent a string of nervous messages; they asked when he should come over and apologized if he had woken you up. You chuckled before a yawn overcame you. So he was an early riser? For some reason that didn’t surprise you.

Eventually, you managed to get dressed and come down stairs into the flower shop. You jump as the first thing you see is Renjun tripping through the door, your mother rearing behind him.

“Look who I found out and about!” She chirped.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the goofy smile growing on your face. Renjun walked towards you hand held up, and you appropriately responded to the gesture by high-fiving him.

“Sorry I didn’t text back, I just woke up a few minutes ago.” You had the sense to look embarrassed

Renjun shook his head, jabbing a thumb towards your mother’s direction, “Its cool, your mom told me all about it.”

By now your mother had snuck into the store’s back room, most likely to continue putting together a few bouquet orders. The sounds of foliage could be heard and you knew that was precisely what she was doing.

You made your way behind the cashier counter, putting on a beige apron with the words “Le Jardin d’Eden” scrawled on the front in blue. Renjun was glancing around the store; he seemed especially entranced by the orchids in the far corner. You pulled a stool next to you behind the counter and patted it loud enough to get Renjun’s attention. He got the message and sat next to you.

“So, what were you up to so early in the morning?”

“I guess you consider 9am early in the morning,” Renjun chuckled, “I wasn’t doing much. Just planning a few pieces for my portfolio.”

You parroted the word “portfolio” in curiosity.

Renjun cleared his throat and looked at his hands. “Yeah, I’m trying out for an arts school.”

“That’s so cool,” you nudged Renjun, causing him to look back up to you, “You should totally show me what you have so far.”

He smiled and let out a breath, “Totally.”

Then, a customer walked into the store accompanied by the bells on the door jingling. You got up to help, and when you finished with him a new customer walked in, and another. It seemed like a busy day, which was a bummer. You wanted to spend all your attention on Renjun. Every time you glimpsed at him he was drawing a new flower in the sketchbook that he, from what you know, conjured out of nowhere. Sometimes you met eyes with him and his mouth twitched at the corners. Attempts at smiles while his mind was concentrated on his art. He looked like a painting himself, but you blushed at the thought and continued to work.

        You fell against the door after turning the “open” sign to say “closed,” officially ending the working day. Your mother started sweeping the floors and Renjun disappeared into the back room a while ago to do something for her. He said he felt bad for doing nothing while you and your mother worked. You began to pick up cleaning supplies yourself until your mother waved her hand.

“Ah, no. Go accompany your friend, I got this.”

You rolled your eyes at your mother’s antics but internally thanked her as you approached Renjun in the back room. He was trying, and failing, to wrap a bow around a basket. He whispered what you could only guess to be swears under his breath as the bow turned out crooked.

“Do you want me to help?” You grinned at the way Renjun’s arms fell like weights to his sides.

Renjun let out a groan before answering in a whine, “Yes, please.”

You moved in front of the basket and untied the ribbon. Renjun leaned towards you to get a better view of your hands. You tried your best to ignore the way his breath was warm as it hit you. While walking Renjun through the steps it was hard to will the shake out of your voice, but you managed.

After what felt like forever, you finished tying the bow. Renjun’s brows furrowed, and for a second you thought you actually did worse than you thought until he spoke again.

“How did you manage to do that so easily?”

You laughed and shook your head.

“I said almost the same thing when my mom taught me. It just takes a couple of times until you get the feel for it.”

Renjun smiled, “I’m definitely gonna impress you with a cool bow next time I see you.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but neither of you minded. You looked over Renjun’s shoulder as he worked in his sketchbook. He had a page full of flowers that were on display in Jardin d’Eden. Everything looked perfect to you, but Renjun would grunt and fill in another part of a large hydrangea in the corner of the paper.

        That’s how you spent the next weeks. Renjun would come to the shop and distract you while you worked. At least not deliberately. You just couldn’t help your eyes from drifting to him and whatever he did. Most times he’d be drawing, but sometimes he’d also be engaged in conversation with a customer or your mom.

Finally, Renjun took you to meet his aunt. She was just as friendly as Renjun when she spoke, but was otherwise distant as she left you and Renjun to your own devices. You both would often spend time together on the balcony of her house looking over the lake when you weren’t working.

Sometimes Renjun’s friends would video call while you were with him. They were all very friendly (and loud) and would make sure to explain inside jokes to you. Especially if they were at the cost of Renjun’s embarrassment. Often you would find yourself crouched on the floor, holding your stomach from the laughter. Jeno and Jaemin, you had noticed, were the ones most often poking fun at him.

One day, Jeno popped on screen, interrupting the deep conversation you were having with Jaemin about snacks.

“Injunnie! Have you taken (Y/N) onto the boat yet?” Jeno’s eyes blinked into the camera, them being the only part of his body you could see.

Renjun coughed, face flushing as he shook his head.

“Uh, no. Not at all. Completely forgot auntie had it, actually.”

Another of Renjun’s friends, Chenle, shoved Jeno out of the way to be seen.

“What do you mean ‘forgot’? Didn’t you help your aunt repaint it the other day?”

You caught a glimpse of Jaemin behind Chenle, smirking as if he knew something. Renjun was too busy studying the lake to see you tilt your head in question. Then you remembered your mother.

“Its cool if he didn’t,” you shrugged, “My mom probably wouldn’t have let me anyway. She has a thing against the water.”

Renjun seemed to finally snap out of whatever he was thinking, as he whipped back towards you.

“You literally live in a lake town, why would she have anything against you being in a lake?”

You sighed and looked up to the sky. Stars shone, and you remembered one of many nights where you stayed out and tried to ignore your mother’s crying.

“You know how my dad was a fisherman? He died when I was little, drowned during a storm. My mom hasn’t let me swim in the lake or get on a boat since.”

Your father’s absence wasn’t something you felt often. You could barely remember him. More than anything, your disconnect to the incident was what bothered you the most. You swallowed down the weird feeling that you got from it and looked back down to Renjun. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell what he was thinking from the downturn of his lip and the hurt in his eyes.

“We’re sorry.” Jeno whispered, him along with Chenle and Jaemin mirroring the same look.

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it. If I’m honest, I’ve been wanting to rebel just a little and swim in the lake or something. I can’t remember the last time I did.”

“Then why don’t I take you?” Renjun blurted, then blushed. His eyes flickered to the side towards his phone screen before he looked back at you.

He took a deep breath and started again, “Why don’t I take you on my aunt’s boat?”

Jaemin leaned into the screen and somehow managed to whisper loudly as he spoke, “Sneak out when your mom’s asleep and can’t wonder where you are.”

The rest of the boys in the call grew mischievous smiles on their faces. You gulped.

“I mean, I’ve never–”  

“Of course you’ve never snuck out,” Chenle rolled his eyes and you held back the desire to frown, “There’s nothing to do there. You probably never wanted to.”

You finally did frown. You heard a smack from the phone and Chenle rocketed out of frame with a hiss.

Jeno looked at you apologetically, “Don’t take what Lele says seriously. We sneak out all the time to do stuff together, Renjun would too. You’re just a good kid.”

From there the conversation branched off. Renjun told you a story of how Jeno once actually stole candy from a baby. Everyone laughed, void for Jeno, who buried his face into Jaemin’s shoulder. Then your mother called, and it was time for you to leave.

Renjun walked you home. His hands fidgeted with the loops of his jeans the entire time. His nervous energy made you nervous. Before you knew it your home and the shop were in sight and you and Renjun hadn’t said a word to each other. That was, before Renjun cleared his throat, causing you to jump.

“You know, I wasn’t joking.”

You tilted your head, confused about what he was referring to.

“I mean, about taking you out on the boat. If–” he looked to the ground, “If you wanted.”

You tried to bite down the goofy grin you knew was trying to inch across your face. You lightly stepped on Renjun’s foot to make him look up at you.

“Honestly, I totally do.”

You didn’t realize Renjun’s hands were still moving until they stopped.

Renjun let out a breath, “Yeah?” his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you matched his softness, “I haven’t had my life-changing summer adventure yet.”

Renjun snorted as you turned to walk into the building. You’d deny the skip in your step as you made your way to your room.

        “Are you sure this is fine?” You couldn’t help from wringing your hands as you followed Renjun on the small path through the trees.

Renjun chuckled before turning around to you. It was hard to ignore how the lights of the fireflies twinkled in his eyes and the moonlight rested on his skin.

“I promise its fine,” he held his hand out to you, “to make you feel better.”

You had only known this boy for a few weeks, but all rationale initially flew through the window when you decided to sneak out in the middle of the night for the first time. So, you nodded and grabbed his hand as he lead you towards the dock. It didn’t take much time before you reached it. The water was placid and the only things that seemed to disturb its surface were the water striders gliding across and the occasional fish.

There alongside the dock, a sailboat bobbed in the water.

“This is your aunt’s?” you said.

Renjun only nodded at you before looking back at the boat. You stared at it as well. It was pretty, painted in a coral color with blue cursive letters on its side. You squinted to try and read what they said. Renjun kicked at a nearby rock and tugged on his hair.

“The Moomin,” he coughed, “My aunt, uh, she had me name it when I was little.”

You couldn’t help the teasing smile on your face, “That’s precious.”

“Please shut up before I push you into this water.”

Renjun continued grumbling under his breath, and the chokes resulting from holding back your laughter almost caused you to fall in all by yourself.

Renjun climbed into the boat first. You followed, easing your way on with Renjun’s help. The boat rocked from the movement of you both sitting down. You tensed, and both your hands shot out to stabilize yourself. Renjun sat right across from you. He touched his ankle to yours, and you eased. Your mouth still twitched in displeasure, for some reason he felt too far away.

The boat eventually stopped rocking, but your stomach still felt tingly. Renjun eyed you worriedly as you tugged at your hair. You couldn’t get your eyes to stop jumping from one thing to the other.

Renjun stood slowly and moved to sit next to you. Your breath hitched as the boat rocked again.

You shot Renjun an anxious glance, “Aren’t we supposed to be on opposite sides? Isn’t it dangerous?”

Renjun smiled, and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to breath.

“Its fine,” he took your hand in his, “Are you okay?”

You sighed and squeezed Renjun’s hand. He squeezed back.

“I’m going to be. I think.”

Renjun doesn’t speak after that. You look up at the sky and see the full moon shining bright. All the noises you hear are crickets and Renjun’s breathing beside you.

The warmth from Renjun’s hand spreads up your arms. Your stomach still feels tingly, but its different, and the thought that you could stay on the boat forever crosses your mind.

“Renjun?”

“Yeah?”

The words don’t make it out of your mouth but Renjun seemed to already know what you wanted to say, his lips pressed against yours.

Your eyes were shut, but you could still see Renjun in your head. Radiant, soft, like you were kissing the moon. You dreaded the sun rising again.

[tay-centricpsychosis]

I’ve been debating whether to start a blog for a little while now, but I’ve been writing some stuff in preparation of it for about a week. Following is everything I wrote:

Writing is difficult, but I said I would with my psychologist, so I guess I’ll start a journal or something of sorts and see if the words flow. I’m 25 now, the years have gotten away from me a bit, time really does seem to fly, especially looking back on it. Last year I had a couple of psychotic breaks. As a result of the psychotic breaks, I got diagnosed with Schizophrenia. My psychologist thinks it was drug-induced psychosis. I don’t really know which it was because I’ve been on antipsychotics since the second admission to hospital, but I also haven’t been taking drugs since the second admission to hospital, so whether it’s the lack of drugs or the addition of prescription drugs that’s keeping me symptom free, I don’t know.

 I’ve been having a debate with myself over whether or not I’m actually schizophrenic or whether it’s drug-induced psychosis. In support of schizophrenia, I had what could be described as a prodromal phase where I seemed to lose all capacity for study and work, where I was isolating a bit, and generally disengaging with life. On the other hand, that could be due to me smoking weed almost every day for about two years. Now I seem to have what could be described as negative symptoms of schizophrenia; apathy, anhedonia, poverty of thought, reduced social drive, loss of motivation. On the other hand, these symptoms have also been described as side-effects of the antipsychotics I’m on. Part of me wants to stop the antipsychotics now to see if the negative effects are alleviated, and if the positive effects (delusions, hallucinations) return. Then I’d have an answer to the question of whether it’s drug-induced psychosis or schizophrenia. On the other hand, I’ve only been on the antipsychotics for about six months now, and treatment protocol for schizophrenia says that staying on the antipsychotics for one to two years after first-episode psychosis improves long-term outcomes. If I stop the meds and I need the meds, long term outcomes are worse, but if I stay on the meds and don’t need them, they’re making my current situation noticeably worse: A real catch 22.

 I suppose the negative symptoms aren’t too terrible at the moment, anyway. I’m managing to hold down a job, though it doesn’t take many hours in a week. I’m writing a bit, though I doubt it’s any good. I manage to get my ten thousand steps most days, though I’ve been very lazy this week. I’m worried that they’ll be a severe detriment to my schooling once I go back, but that remains to be seen. I currently sleep about twelve hours a day, which will be a severe detriment to my schooling, however, I’m currently writing this at nearly 8AM on no sleep, after waking at 5PM yesterday. I’m hoping I can make it through the day on no sleep, go to bed early tonight, and work my way towards a better sleep routine in preparation for school. So I guess I have plans for the future, which is good.

 I’m currently trying to drink less alcohol, and I’ve stopped smoking. I used to have a pretty severe drinking problem, I’d drink a box of wine in about two days, two to three times a week. Last night I was going to buy a bottle of whiskey and get drunk, but stopped myself halfway to the liquor store. Writing always makes me want to smoke, but I’m currently resisting the temptation to go buy a pack. Quitting kind of sucks, but I decided that despite whatever hardships I may face, I still want to live, so quitting both booze and cigs is probably in my best interest.

   I miss drugs, I never really did a lot of different drugs, just weed and LSD. I was quite regularly smoking weed, and I guess I’ll miss how it seemed to make things more interesting. I’ll really miss LSD, it seemed to make life worth living, and made everything better. I was suffering from some fairly severe depression for a while and an LSD trip pulled me out of it. I was thinking about microdosing LSD to try and pull me out of the anhedonia and apathy I’m currently feeling, but I don’t think that’s a good idea, and the antipsychotics negate the effect of LSD anyway. I was a lot more creative on LSD as well, but I’ll probably try and be creative later in these writings too. We’ll see how that goes.

 I tried to have a nap, but then I got an idea. Rather than writing this all and keeping it to myself, maybe I should start a blog instead. I’ll call it ‘Tay-Centric Psychosis’, I always wanted to start a movie reviewing blog, and maybe I could incorporate that too. It might be a good exercise to keep me writing, and might help me become more involved in life, a record of my existence, it might help keep me grounded in reality as well. It might help me be more social too, since that’s a space that I feel I’m severely lacking at the moment. I don’t know, it might even help someone, I don’t know how, but it’s a nice thought.

 I woke up at 7PM after 17 hours of sleep yesterday, my plan to not sleep and fix my sleep schedule did not work. I’m committing myself to waking up before noon this week, no matter how many hours of sleep I get. Hopefully writing it down here will keep me committed and honest. Orientation week for Uni is next week. I’m hoping to be up at 9 on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday to make the most out of the orientation. Then it’s back to Uni the week after, and I really want to commit myself to the work and hopefully succeed this year. I assume it’s going to be a struggle for the first few weeks going every day, since I haven’t actually been to a lecture in quite a few years, but hopefully I can fall into a routine and be better for it. I’m worried I’m putting too much pressure on myself going back to school this year. Just living seems to be pretty difficult at the moment, so putting Uni and holding down a job on top of it seems like a recipe for disaster. I got a tarot reading, though, and it said if I put the effort in my schooling will be successful. Kind of nervous to see how this year goes, but as long as I stay out of the hospital, I guess it’ll be better than last year.

 We watched The Lighthouse the other night; it was pretty good. I enjoyed the director’s previous film The VVitch too, this one had a lot of the same sort of feel going on. A very competent horror film with some particularly brutal moments. Great performances from both Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe, Willem Dafoe in particular. Spilled beans/10.

 I watched Pain and Glory, a delightful film about a director, heroin addiction, and back pain. I haven’t seen any of Almodóvar’s other films, but this one came highly recommended. Antonio Banderas gave a stellar performance, and Penélope Cruz was stunning as always. Beautifully shot, with a great soundtrack, it was gripping the entire way through. Sciatica/10

 First two days of sleeping better seem to be going soundly, as discussed with my psychologist I’m trying to get into the habit of going to sleep at 11:30 and waking up at 8. Day one of this schedule has gone fine. Hopefully by keeping track of it, I’ll encourage myself to stick to it.

 I don’t know, the boringness of my life is what’s keeping me from making a blog, I doubt anyone would find it of any interest since it is basically just skating by on a definition of life at the moment. It’s still probably a good idea, and who knows what people find interesting these days. I think if I wrote about what my actual delusions were some people might find it more interesting. There was a lot to it, though, and I guess I’m worried about being judged for them. Maybe some other time.

 I keep in touch with a person I met in the hospital, she called me last night and we had a bit of a talk. She’s one of the few people I’ve had any meaningful conversations with in the last month or so. She considers me to be high functioning in my disorder, which is nice to think about. From what I’ve read, if I do have schizophrenia, I’ll probably deteriorate as I get older, which is an unpleasant thought, but focus on the positive and for now at least I am holding down a job and getting my 10,000 steps a day. If I’m active and properly engaged when I go back to school, honestly, I’m probably doing better than I have in the past 4 or so years, despite the disability. We’ll see, I guess. I bought a parking permit for school today, which if I’m to get my money’s worth out of it, requires me to go every day I have lessons, so I’m hoping that serves as encouragement to stay engaged this year as well.

I’ll probably write more in the future as things progress, but I guess it’s a start to start my blog. I think people will find my psychoses interesting if I go into detail about them, which I might do. Anyway, this is my first post, and hopefully I can develop my blog further.

[frostedpuffs]

A Simple Suggestion - Ch.14

A Simple Suggestion Summary: Chat Noir was no stranger to a difficult home life—Ladybug knew that more than anyone. When he jokingly suggests that life would be easier for the both of them if they were roommates, the two of them freeze like ice in the midnight air, breath caught between them as the notion hits them full force. It drifts through their thoughts in silence until they decide that perhaps, in a world where impossible things are plausible, the idea wouldn't be such a bad one. So, with a skip in their steps and an entirely new kind of excitement brewing in their chests, the two find themselves considering something neither of them had ever before: moving in together. The tricky part is still keeping their identities a secret. When feelings become muddled and embarrassing thoughts cross between two people and one, both Marinette and Adrien have a hard time finding exactly where their affections lie, even as they begin to form a deeper bond with the one person they never expected would find a path into their heart. Rated: T+ Pairing(s): Ladybug/Chat Noir, Adrien/Marinette

Chapter 14 - A Night Out Word count: 9,914 Also read on: ao3 Chapter summary: Alya and Nino drop by for a surprise visit, and Marinette loosens up a little more than she'd planned.

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

He woke up at noon.

Sunlight streamed through his open eyelids as he blinked at the harsh yellow rays. Rubbing at his eyes, Adrien sat up with a yawn, his back cracking with the force of his stretch as he rose from his bed. The wooden floor underneath his feet was cool to the touch. With his green pajama pants falling past his ankles, he allowed his body to slump as his bangs fell in front of his gaze.

Ugh. He really needed to stop sleeping so late. But with the freedom of living on his own, it became harder and harder to maintain multiple aspects in his life, including his sleep schedule and the types of foods he ate—among other things.

Adrien placed his palm to his forehead with a grimace. A headache creeped up the back of his neck.

The entire first month living with Ladybug had been a rush. At first things had been awkward—it took them a good week or two to get comfortable with sharing a living space and adjusting to each other's lifestyle—but overall, it had gone by smoothly. Better than that in Adrien's opinion, actually. Living with Ladybug had been so much fun.

He barely remembered this past month other than the fact that he'd been having the time of his life. Despite being unable to control himself at times, living on his own was fantastic! He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it, and nobody could stop him. Eat cake for dinner? Sure! Sleep until one? No problem! Wear nothing but boxer shorts around the house? Hell yes.

Ladybug didn't care. Ladybug had her own life to live and let him do whatever he wanted. And he loved having that freedom.

Continue reading on ao3 or under the cut! ↓

When it came down to it, Ladybug didn't mind how he lived.

Except, of course, when the mess in his room left little to no space for anyone to walk through, and when his laundry became a mountain in the corner, and his stomach started curling in on itself from the constant fast food and quick meals since he hadn't exactly perfected his cooking skills quite yet. Or when he realized he hadn't eaten an actual vegetable in two weeks and his sleep schedule was absolutely screwed because he stayed up until four in the morning and slept until nearly one in the afternoon.

It had only taken one comment from Ladybug about how his room looked like a tornado hit it for him to get off his ass and clean it.

He had really taken the cleaners at his childhood home for granted… Who knew that maintaining a pristine living space was hard when he didn't have someone to clean up after himself?

Thankful that he had a partner like Ladybug to help keep him from sitting on his lazy ass, Adrien smiled, glancing around his recently-cleaned bedroom as rays of afternoon sunlight trickled through his curtains and onto the rumbled sheets of his bed. The heat of the sun was comfortable against his back, but Adrien resisted the urge to curl back up on top of his blankets and instead forced himself up to a stand, where he crossed the hall to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

He needed to get ready for a relaxing day off.

After he'd gotten out, he changed into a black T-shirt and jeans, made himself a quick sandwich for lunch and checked his work email, reading through boring message after message about some stupid meeting coming up or a staff dinner night—which sounded boring too, save for the fact that a staff party might mean Marinette and Chloé would be attending—and it was after ten minutes of reading and replying to various emails that he got a text from a number that was all too familiar, sending a smile to his face.

Nino had sent him a picture. Which, by all means was a normal thing this far into their friendship, but this particular photo was different. Special, in a way—a particular type of special that caused Adrien to nearly choke on his own spit, a cough rising from his blocked airway as he hacked and took in a gulp of air to steady his breathing.

It was a selfie of Nino standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, two fingers held up in an innocent peace sign with a smile that practically put a halo above his signature red baseball cap.

"That asshole," Adrien snickered. He slapped a palm to his forehead in disbelief and quickly hit the dial button, not wasting a moment as his best friend picked up the phone. "Dude, what are you doing? Where are you? You jerk, you didn't tell me you were visiting!"

Nino's responding laughter on the other line had Adrien grinning like a fool. "That's called a surprise, Adrien!"

"You're both here?"

"Of course," Nino said. "I'm not leaving my girl all the way across the ocean, are you kidding me? I'd miss her too much."

Ah, well, he could understand that. Now that they were living together, if he had to leave Ladybug behind while he visited a far away place… He'd be sad enough to cry.

(Perhaps he was a little too attached.)

"I had a question," Nino continued. "Do you have plans tonight? The four of us should go out to dinner. Besides, I've been dying to have some of Marinette's pastries again, so tell her to bring some."

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes. "Her parents' pastries, you mean."

"Same thing. Anyway," Nino said, the sound of wind in the background distorting his voice a bit. "Do you work today? What time does Marinette get off if she's working too? We wanna know what would be a good time and place to meet up for dinner."

"I've got the day off," Adrien said. "I think Marinette gets off at seven."

He could hear Alya's voice in the background as Nino said, "Alright. I'll see if Alya can let her know we'll be coming—"

"Or you could keep it a surprise," Adrien offered, lying his head back against the armrest of the couch. "You know, have me tell Mari that it's just us two going out, and have her see you guys waiting outside for her. That'd make her day, I'm sure."

Nino's tone brightened. "Good idea."

They'd decided they would go out to a restaurant they'd visited not long before Nino and Alya had left for California. It was a quaint place with good food, a rooftop terrace that held a live band and seats, and cylindrical fish tanks that adorned the interior. It was a little on the pricier side, but Adrien didn't mind. He was happy to take his friends out for a tasty meal and drinks any night.

(Even if Alya couldn't indulge in a night of drinking due to her being pregnant, he supposed.)

He spent the remainder of the day cleaning the apartment. He knew Ladybug would be tired by the time she got home, since his father was pushing deadlines on his employees as the mid-summer months began rolling in, and the last thing he wanted her to have to deal with was coming home to a dirty living space.

The kitchen counters were wiped, the wooden floors swept and vacuumed, the bathroom was organized and living room cleared of clutter. He fluffed the couch cushions and, after hearing Plagg incessantly complain for cheese, even went out to buy some groceries for he and Ladybug to share, as well as other household necessities like toilet paper and soap.

"I should probably call Marinette," Adrien said as he parked back home and began to unload the paper bags from his car. "I need to let her know that we're going out."

Plagg poked his head out from the bag that contained his cheese, voice muffled from the food in his mouth. "Taking your girlfriend on a date?"

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Adrien shook his head. "No, unfortunately. But we are meeting up with Alya and Nino tonight for dinner. If you're good, I might even order a cheese appetizer to go, so don't cause trouble."

He winked at his kwami, whose eyes began to sparkle with delight. The little god licked his lips as he began to salivate. "Trouble? Me? That's unheard of!"

"Yeah, sure." Adrien scratched under Plagg's chin, who responded with a purr. "Let's get these groceries inside."

As soon as he'd gone up to his apartment and set the bags on the counter, Plagg zipped out from the cover of a box of pasta noodles and dove into another bag, tossing things out as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. "Where are they?" he asked, burrowing a hole into the neatly bagged groceries (that were now in a pile of disarray on the counter.) "Where are Tikki's cookies? You bought her some, right? It better have been chocolate chip. Those are her favorite."

Adrien grabbed the bag of dry goods that sat to the side and pulled out a container of twenty-four chocolate chunk cookies, placing it on the counter in front of his kwami. "These?"

"Perfect." Without waiting for Adrien to put them in the pantry himself, Plagg picked up the plastic container and zipped off to the windowsill next to the couch, where the two kwami had made a makeshift nest of fabrics and cotton for them to rest in. Plagg busied at the nest as he landed in it, paws brushing the soft materials around—as if he was trying to perfect it before his other half came home. He opened the pack of cookies and placed one on the side closest to the window where Tikki usually enjoyed spending her nights.

It was a funny thing to see Plagg so caught up in making their own little spot in the apartment grand enough for Ladybug's kwami. The usual sarcastic, playful nature of Plagg was reserved only for humans it seemed, because when it came to Tikki, well…

He was different. Different in a way Adrien could understand. He was the same with his partner, after all.

After putting away all of the groceries and stocking the bathroom and kitchen with the household items they'd needed, Adrien checked the time displayed on the oven. It was already three-thirty; Marinette was probably on her lunch by now, unless she'd taken it early.

He thought of her leaving her sketchbook at her desk and sitting in the breakroom, relaxing in one of the chairs and listening to the radio, mindlessly playing on her phone as she ate.

Adrien wondered what she was eating. He hoped it was something she liked, like something sweet, or perhaps a favorite meal of hers.

(But to be honest, he hoped she was at least eating at this point, knowing full well that she'd been skipping one too many lunch breaks to meet her ridiculous deadlines…

He'd tried talking to his father about it. He had. But the old grump hadn't wanted to hear it.)

So, because his stomach was starting to feel sick with worry over whether or not she had eaten enough for the day, he wasted no time in picking up his phone and dialing her number.

Marinette had just clocked out for her lunch break when her phone began ringing.

Not bothering to read the caller's name, she picked up, holding her phone in one hand and reaching into the break room fridge with the other. "Hello?" she asked, pulling out her salad and sitting at one of the tables. She opened the plastic container and poured the cup of dressing over the spinach leaves.

Adrien's voice came from the other line. "Hey, Marinette. Have you eaten yet?"

Fork in mouth, Marinette hummed in response. "Uh… Working on it."

"Good," he said. She heard shuffling come from his end. "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner tonight. My treat."

She dropped her plastic fork on top of her food in surprise, nearly losing her phone—which Adrien had just paid to get fixed—in the process. Heartbeat quickening, she nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her, and said (a little breathlessly), "Yeah! Yeah. I'd love that. What's, um—what's the occasion?"

Of all the things he could do, Adrien giggled. "Oh, no occasion. I just remembered that I had promised to take you out one night, hadn't I?"

Marinette swallowed a bite of her salad. "You just did last week when we went out for pizza."

"Yeah, but that wasn't fancy," he said. "I want to take you somewhere fancy."

"Why?" she found herself asking, because she was genuinely confused. Unless… He was asking her on a date, then somewhere fancy would be reasonable, but… Was he asking her on a date?

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

He had been acting more affectionate towards her lately… And she had caught him staring at her a lot as of late...

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responded, "What, a friend can't take another friend out somewhere fancy and expensive?"

"I- I don't know, probably?"

Adrien laughed. "If you want to, meet me at the corner of Varenne and Vaneau at eight. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Marinette cocked a brow in question. "For me? What is it?"

More importantly, what did she do to deserve it?

"You'll see," Adrien chuckled. "But I promise you'll like it."

The rest of her work day went by slowly after that. She went through her tasks distracted yet determined to get her work done, scolding herself every time she caught her thoughts wandering and only allowing herself to to focus on what she needed to get done for the day.

By the time seven rolled around she was exhausted—covered in cuts from accidental pricks of her sewing needles and the tips of her fingers smudged black from her pencils. Her hair was a mess and she felt hot, desperately wishing she could take a shower when she arrived home but knowing she didn't have the time.

Marinette arrived home by seven-fifteen and barely remembered to slip her mask back on before she walked through the door. It was quiet inside. With Chat Noir in his bedroom, she called his name to let him know that she was home and, after shutting her bedroom door, changed into an outfit that didn't smell like sweat (and was considerably less wrinkled, as well.)

She donned herself in a wine-red dress that had long sleeves of lace and a ruffled skirt that flowed when she walked. It reached down to mid-thigh, its neckline just below her collarbones, which gave her space to put on one of her favorite necklaces—a golden chain with a spotted ladybug charm.

Running a brush through her hair—which needed to be cut, as it was getting longer than she liked—she pulled her black tresses up into a messy bun, allowing a few strands to frame her face. Her makeup was fine; she didn't need to fix it. With black heels and a final spritz of perfume, she admired herself in her floor-length mirror and grinned, proud of how pretty she looked.

She checked her phone for the time. It was seven-forty. Time to go, Marinette decided.

Her mask stayed on her face as she knocked on Chat Noir's door. "You decent?"

He opened it not a moment later, dressed in nothing but jeans and dress socks as if he had been in the middle of changing as well, a casual grin on his face until he stopped and looked at her. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as his gaze darted from her face to her feet. He took a moment to admire her outfit before his eyes met her own, face reddening all the way down to his neck. "You- you, ah, uh, you are- my Lady!"

She laughed behind her hand. "What?" Despite how her cheeks burned at his reaction, she didn't mind the way he lost his words at her appearance. It felt nice to be thought as attractive, especially by someone who was equally as attractive as she was.

Chat ran his hands down his masked face. He groaned, "You're killing me, Ladybug. You're really killing me."

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. "Oh, hush. I just wanted to let you know I'm going out for the night and that I might not be back till later tonight, so don't wait up, okay? I think there's a phone number for pizza delivery on the fridge, so—"

"Don't worry about me," Chat Noir said. "You go have fun, okay?"

Giving him a brief hug—unfazed by his shirtless state, as this was normal by now—she turned and left, grabbing her purse off of the counter as she made her way out.

"Enjoy your dinner!" Chat Noir called after her just before she shut the door.

Marinette froze in the hallway.

Dinner…? How had he known she was going out to dinner?

Huh. That was strange. Puzzled, Marinette slipped her mask into her purse and stepped inside the elevator, figuring he just assumed she was going out to eat and guessed correctly. No matter—she had somewhere to be, and a certain boy to look forward to meeting up with. There was no reason to dwell on the one she lived with.

The walk to the restaurant was short. It took her all but fifteen minutes to arrive, and the evening summer air was cool enough to where she hadn't been bothered by any sort of heat. It was a perfect night for a date, she thought.

(Her palms were sweating, and her mind was running a million miles a minute, but she wasn't thinking about it.)

Marinette's pulse quickened as she approached the front doors, but something stopped her. There was a feminine voice she swore she'd heard over her computer just a few days ago; a voice she'd never forget. One that she'd talked to nearly every day ever since the owner had left her on a flight to California less than a year ago. A voice that belonged to—

"Surprise!"

Marinette screamed. Sounds of pure joy burst from her lips as her eyes set sight on her best friend, who had apparently travelled all the way from California and was somehow standing in front of her outside the restaurant she had planned to meet Adrien at. Her heart was pounding. She couldn't contain her excitement as she propelled herself into Alya, her muddled feelings of glee and anger for not being told that she was visiting overflowing her tiny body and sending her eyes to water with a bucket of tears.

Oh, great. There came the waterworks.

Alya smelled of lavender and honey. Her rounded stomach pressed into Marinette's own as they held each other for the first time in what felt like eons, Alya's lips connecting to her cheek in a friendly greeting that made Marinette's throat tighten with the threat of a sob.

It felt so nice to be able to see her best friend again. To be able to hold her, feel her and look at her, as if they hadn't properly spoken to each other in years; as if this was a dream she never wanted to wake from. Alya was back. Alya was home. And, as her friend's hands rubbed up and down her arms, Marinette felt as if this night couldn't possibly get any better.

That is, until she glanced over Alya's shoulder and saw Nino smiling at her tear-streaked face, his hand outstretched in a wave.

"Oh my god," she cried, squeezing Alya in a tight hold. A thought flashed in her mind that caused her to pull back, however, and she hastily apologized as she remembered that she was currently carrying a tiny human inside of her. "I'm sorry! Did I hug you too tight? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

Alya laughed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "I'm fine, 'Nette. I'm only pregnant, not dying."

Marinette sighed in relief.

Wow… Alya was positively glowing. She looked stunning; her red hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, thick locks draping over her bare shoulders and falling nearly down to her chest. Her hair was getting long—it looked like she hadn't cut it in months. Marinette found she liked that, though. It really worked for her.

Her dress was knee length, black with off-the-shoulder long sleeves. Around her neck was a silver necklace, a matching pair of earrings dangling from her ears. She wasn't wearing heels, Marinette noticed—probably due to the fact that her feet were swollen from pregnancy.

Her baby-bump was just noticeable. Marinette had to repress the urge to cry uncontrollably for how happy she was for her best friend. Her hands reached forward momentarily but she hesitated and pulled back, terribly wanting to feel for any sort of life that might be stirring within her friend, but also respecting her personal boundaries. Although there had never really been any between the two of them in the first place.

Still, it didn't hurt to ask. "C-can I—?"

"Of course," Alya chuckled.

It was weird to feel her friend's swollen belly, knowing full well that there was a growing child inside. Though there were no kicks or any movement to be felt, Marinette smiled still, finding the whole situation overwhelming. Sure, it was a little surreal to know that her best friend since college was going to have a baby when she herself hadn't had much luck in the romance department, but it was nice, too. Nice to know that soon she'd have a little niece or nephew to look after—because while she and Alya weren't related, there was no way in hell she would let her friend's kid go without calling her "Aunt Marinette."

"You're so mean," she said, a smirk gracing her lips as she teased Alya, removing her hands from her stomach and meeting her eyes. "You flew all the way here without even telling me, you ass! I would have gotten you guys gifts and baby stuff if I had known!"

Nino stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he let out a laugh. "Be mad at Adrien," he said. "He's the one who wanted to make this a surprise."

Jaw dropping, Marinette leaned forward, eyes bulging. "Adrien knew!?"

"Knew what?"

Turning around so fast she swore she'd given herself whiplash, Marinette's face reddened at the simple sight of Adrien. Though "simple" wasn't the best choice of words, because he looked anything but simple—with his lean frame dressed in a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his just above his elbows, black jeans and a leather belt to match, he looked good. No, better than that—he looked hot!

She swallowed. Her throat felt dry.

(Could they go inside so she could order a glass of water?)

"A-Adrien," she breathed. Standing up straight, she gave an awkward wave.

It was amazing how one cute guy could make her entire brain malfunction.

Adrien stood next to her, the thin fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arm. His expression was soft as he gazed at her outfit, his head cokcing to the side in a way that was endearing. His eyes glowed with affection as he said, "I like that dress. You look pretty, Marinette."

"Oh, thanks," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You look pretty too."

Adrien's responding smile was one that could light up the sky. "Thank you!"

"Marinette didn't like the surprise," Nino joked, throwing his arms around his best friend and wrapping him in a tight bear-hug. "She's mad that you wanted to keep our visit a secret."

Squeezing Nino in his hold, Adrien laughed. "But I only found out today when you were already in the city!"

"Because we were trying to surprise both of you! But Nino had to send a picture." Alya stepped over to the two tallest of the group and shoved herself between her fiancé and his best friend for a well-deserved group hug. "Marinette, get on in here. We're having a bonding moment."

Unwilling to be left out, Marinette's cheeks hurt from how wide her smile spread as her friends opened their arms to her, squeezing herself into their hold. It was warm; full of love and laughter and joy; a feeling that made her heart beat with the unmistakable memory of home. This was her happy place—here with her friends—and it had been too long since she'd last felt the comforting embrace of their arms and the heat that radiated off of their entwined bodies.

"I love you guys," Marinette said. Her eyes began to water a second time. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you both, too," Adrien added. Marinette felt the arm he held around her tighten. "How long are you staying for?"

Pulling away from the hug, Alya and Nino shared a glance before Alya gestured with her hand towards the glass restaurant doors. "Let's get our table, and then we'll talk."

Marinette couldn't ignore the way Adrien kept his hand against the small of her back as they walked inside the dimly-lit restaurant. Her pulse raced, fingers clenching on the strap her her purse and eyes trained on the floor.

Could he just keep his hand there? Forever?

They were seated in the back at a booth in front of one of the restaurant's many fish tanks that dotted the interior. The light from the water illuminated the surface of the table, its wooden finish glowing a faint blue. While Alya and Nino sat on one side, Adrien joined Marinette on the other, and the four of them glanced over their menus as they chatted.

His hand momentarily brushed her own as he lifted his menu. The cool metal of his ring grazed her fingers. "So, how long are you guys here for?" he asked, directing his attention to their visitors. "And where are you staying?"

Hands intertwining, Alya and Nino smiled in unison.

"Just two weeks, for now," Alya said. Her hazel eyes sparkled in excitement. "We're actually looking for houses—"

"—so we can move back not long after the baby's born," Nino finished, shooting an apologetic look to his fiancée for interrupting her. Alya gave a playful roll of her eyes and patted his hand.

"We would have liked to find a place before she arrived," she said. Her thumb moved in circles over her partner's skin, caressing his hand like it was her favorite thing to hold. "But time isn't exactly on our side, and while we're not short on money, we—"

"Wait, wait," Marinette said. She lifted up a hand to stop her friend in her tracks. "'She?' You're having a girl?!"

Adrien chimed in. "How far along are you, now?" he asked, placing his reading glasses on the collar of his shirt, as it seemed he had already decided what he was ordering as his entree.

What a shame. She'd always loved how he looked when he wore those things…

(Funny. Those glasses looked almost identical to Chat Noir's, now that she thought about it…)

"Eighteen weeks," Alya replied. A hand went to her stomach. "So… A little over four months."

"Wow," Marinette breathed. "It's still hard to believe, to be honest."

"For us, too," Nino said. "But we're excited."

The waiter came to take their orders, politely interrupting their conversation. He held a bottle of wine in his hands with an offer to fill their glasses, and immediately all eyes went to Alya.

She laughed. "Hey, don't worry about me. You guys have your fun. I'm only here for the food."

The wine was a familiar bitterness on her tongue as Marinette placed her lips to the rim of her glass.

"So, where were you guys thinking of moving?" Adrien asked as he sipped his wine. "Somewhere close or more towards the suburbs?"

Nino shot a text before pocketing his phone, eyes bright as he replied, "Well, we were hoping for a house with a yard, but anything that's available is either just outside city limits or too far away from where we grew up. So we're actually scouting for some larger apartments with two or three floors. Kind of like the home you grew up in, Marinette."

Smiling at that, she swirled her wine around in her glass. It was a red—one of her favorites—and she had tomorrow off, so there was no harm in doing a little drinking.

"I hope you guys find some place nice," she said. "Hopefully somewhere close to us. I'm always up for babysitting, you know."

Alya snickered. "Baby's not even born yet and my girl is already trying to steal her away."

"I'm just saying," Marinette laughed, finishing her glass, "that if you need baby help, don't be afraid to ask."

"Oh, I won't. Trust me." Alya smirked. "If this kid starts driving me insane you bet you're watching her for a week while I take a vacation in the Bahamas."

Nino placed his hands on his fiancée's stomach, grinning. "Don't listen to your mom, kid. We love you!"

The waiter returned shortly after to bring them their food, and they took a moment's silence to begin eating. It wasn't long before they were talking again, and after Nino had told the group a story about a surprise streaker at one of his recent shows, Marinette had found herself laughing, immensely enjoying her time out with her best friends for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was glad to see that Adrien was having a good time, too. He'd been working almost as much as she had as of late, and all she'd wanted for him these past few weeks was for him to find an opportunity to wind down and be his goofy self rather than stiffly posing for the camera for hours on end.

Adrien's eyes met hers. Caught staring, she sipped at her second (third?) glass of wine and looked away.

"Hey," Adrien said, turning his attention back to his other friends, "I bet I can guess what you guys missed most about Paris while you were gone."

Nino poured himself another glass of wine. "Besides the food and decent gun laws?"

With a laugh, Adrien said, "The akuma attacks."

Alya tapped him on the arm. "Oh, fuck you. I'm so glad that we don't have to deal with those anymore. But I'll be honest, I miss seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir in person. They're still so cool, and watching online footage isn't enough, you know? I have to be there for the real deal. I have to be the one to film it."

Though she'd given up the Ladyblog long ago to pursue her career in journalism, Alya had never lost her passion for capturing photos of the elusive superheroes. Marinette made a mental note to say hi to her in costume the next time Alya was taking a stroll through the city. Maybe she could coerce Chat into dropping in as well...

Her mouth tasted like alcohol as the night carried on. Licking her lips, Marinette poured herself another glass of wine, her eyes captivated by the way the red liquid spilled from the bottle. It swirled and splashed into the bowl of her glass until it was filled just a little over halfway, and her hands felt as if they were moving in slow motion as she set the bottle down with a soft clink against the table.

Was this her fourth glass? Fifth? She didn't know.

Adrien was talking. She wasn't sure what he was saying, but all she knew was that she loved the sound of his voice. If he could just keep talking… That would be nice. Shifting her gaze towards him, her lips curled into a wide smile, cheeks hurting from the force of her grin. He was making conversation with Nino, who—judging by the look on his face—had drank a little more than he had expected to. But it was the same in her case, anyway.

Adrien looked so… So good, so- so nice. He looked so nice sitting there with his hair brushed and his bangs combed to the side, green eyes radiating warmth like a summer's afternoon when the sun had reached its peak in the sky. He looked so nice with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, white sleeves rolled up to above his elbows and lips moving as he spoke, that soft, gorgeous voice resonating deep within her very soul…

Oh, wow.

She felt good. Adrien looked good. Tonight was good.

Everything was really bubbly and happy and Marinette just loved the way his mouth parted when he talked, how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his drink—yes, the same one he'd been nursing since the waiter had first offered them a glass—and she adored how his face lit up as he laughed, his dimples prominent with every smile. She wanted to kiss them, those cute little things—she wanted to kiss them and his lips and just him in general. She wanted to kiss him so bad.

...Was she drunk?

Oh, god, she lamented internally. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Adrien caught her staring for the thousandth time that night. She quickly averted her eyes. I'm drunk and he knows I'm drunk.

Time to crawl in a hole and die!

"Marinette?" Adrien asked, his voice like honeyed silk. "Hey, Mari, you okay?"

"I have to pee," she said, intelligently allowing that statement to pass her lips against her better judgement, which had flown out the window ever since she'd first popped open the wine bottle.

Adrien's lips twitched into a slight grin, clearly amused. "Oh, sorry. Let me let you out." He slid from the booth, standing out of her path as she scooched down the seat, legs wobbly as her feet touched the floor.

Ugh. Did she really have to wear heels tonight? Did she really? Wasn't she fine just being short? Shortness was fine. Shortness was cute. She was cute as hell, short legs and all.

Oh, fuck. She had to pee.

"I'll be right back," she murmured, brushing past Adrien as she made her way to the restrooms. Adrien grabbed hold of her hand, however, steadying her feet as she stumbled.

He squeezed her knuckles. His eyes were velvet as he gazed down at her. "Hey, woah, slow down. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. She wasn't. But she was, damn it. "Just… Really gotta pee."

"Let me walk you."

Well. Alright. No way in hell she'd refuse a walk with him.

Adrien led her down the hallway, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles into her skin. The world felt dizzy as she followed his lead down a fuzzy sort of path that was the hallway to the restroom, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as Adrien told her he'd wait outside for her, the concern in his gaze oddly familiar yet not unwelcome.

Marinette wasn't sure how long she was in there. All she knew was that she was tired and that she felt a little sick, and her face burned with the heat of her blush as she realized that the last time Adrien had seen her drunk was Christmas—which, albeit many months ago, was worse than the state she was in currently—and it was just so embarrassing, because oh, she was such an emotional drunk, and now that she was alone in the bathroom thinking about how sweet and kind of a person he was, and how selfless he was to get up from his friends he hadn't seen in months to look after her of all people had her eyes welling up with tears.

She could feel Tikki's comforting touch against her arm as the little god emerged from her purse. "Are you okay?" she asked, tone delicate. "What happened, Marinette?"

"I'm okay, Tikki," she said. "I'm… I'm alright."

Was she?

Ugh. She hated feelings. She hated that she was so in love with Adrien's dumb face (it wasn't dumb, no, no) and she hated that she was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with reddened eyes and a headache, wishing she could go home with him and curl up into his bed and kiss him all over, his roommate be damned.

Marinette wanted to kiss him so much.

"'Nette? You in here?"

Alya's voice broke her out of her stupor. Tikki zipped back into her purse in a blur of red.

Turning her head, Marinette sighed as her friend entered the bathroom, making quick work to wipe at the budding tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. Her mind felt thick with mist. "I'm h-here," she murmured, voice cracked and slurred. "I'm… fine." She had to place a hand on the counter to steady herself.

The look Alya shot her was one of disbelief. "No you're not," she said, approaching her with an arm draping around her waist, "you're crying. Why?"

Marinette shook her head. "I… I don't know."

"Are you sure?" Producing a tissue from her purse, Alya stood in front of her best friend and began to dab at her damp cheeks, brushing a strand of hair that hung loosely from her bun behind her ear. "You know you can talk to me, Marinette. Just because this is my first full day back in Paris doesn't mean that I'm not going to be here for you. You're my bestie, remember?"

Another sigh shuddered from Marinette's body. She placed her head on Alya's shoulder, her forehead pressed into the warmth of her neck. The scent of her perfume was strong and inviting. "I'm drunk."

"Well, that part was obvious," Alya laughed. She wrapped her arms around her. "Nino is, too. I'm surprised Adrien is still sober, but he did drive here, so…"

A whine rose from Marinette's lips. "Ugh, Adrien… Why's he gotta be so cute, Alya? Why do I have to like him so much… I thought for the longest time I was—I was done with that boy. But now, I…" Her thoughts were a muddled mess of emotions. "I don't know. I don't know! I'm so mad at him."

Why was she crying?

Why am I crying!?

Alya's voice was gentle. "Why are you mad? You guys are living together still, right? Did he do something?"

"No," Marinette said. "No, he'd never. He'd never be bad to me…"

"Then what's going on?"

Truth be told, Marinette was a little envious. Here Alya was, twenty-two and four months pregnant with a gorgeous ring on her finger, happily in love in a successful, long-term relationship. Alya was lucky. Alya had everything Marinette could have ever wanted in a relationship. Of course she was elated that her best friend was so happy, and she couldn't have been prouder that Alya was going to get married and be a mom, but…

At the same time, Marinette wanted that, too. Not kids—no, not yet—but she was lonely… Really lonely.

Oh, if only she'd had the courage to confess to Adrien when they were younger… Maybe they would be at the same point Alya and Nino were at, now…

(Or perhaps, if Adrien hadn't felt the same way, things would have grown increasingly awkward, and their friendship might have suffered… So maybe it was best this way.)

"I'm mad that he's so cute, and so great, and I can't have him," she bemoaned. Alya was practically holding her up at this point. "And I'm- I'm mad that he's got this crush on someone else but he acts like he's crushing on me, too, and all this past week at work he's been looking at me as if I'm someone else, like he- he recognizes another person... in me. And I'm dying inside because every time he says hi to me in the halls I just want to pull him into a closet and take off his shirt and—"

"Woah!" Alya laughed, pushing Marinette back a bit to gaze into her eyes with amusement. "Down, girl. You know, if you're so desperate to climb up that tree, why don't you just tell him how you feel? I'm sure Adrien would—"

Marinette whined. She leaned against the counter, staring down into the drain of the sink as if the answer to all of her life's problems would magically pop out of the pipes. She felt nauseous. Frustrated, she resisted the urge to bang her head against the mirror. "Can't," she mumbled. "I can't, Alya. I'm no- no good with relationships… I've never even been with anyone before in that way, I wouldn't know what to—"

"So what?" Alya asked. She stood behind her, letting Marinette's hair loose and brushing it out before fixing her bun. "There's no shame in being a virgin. You'll get there when you get there, and that's nobody's business but your own. Don't feel embarrassed about it. Some people have those experiences at younger ages and some don't. It's fine."

Still, Marinette's cheeks burned as the world floated around her.

"C'mon," encouraged Alya, giving her a pat on the back, "let's fix your makeup and go back out to our boys. They're probably wondering where we are."

When Marinette came back out of the bathroom, Adrien noticed the edges of her eyes were stained a light red. His heart dropped a few inches in his chest when she refused to meet his gaze, walking past him with Alya at her side.

"Hey," he said, speaking as softly as he could as he approached her from behind. Instinctively his hand brushed her own—it felt like a breath of fresh air as she welcomed his touch, allowing their fingers to thread together as if that's how they were made to be. "Hey, Mari… What's going on?"

"She's fine," Alya said. She gave him a reassuring look. "She's just tired and very, very drunk."

Well, he knew that. But it didn't stop him from feeling concerned for her well being. What if she was feeling sick, or- or she needed to lie down somewhere? What if her feet hurt from those heels?

He should take her home. He wanted to take her home and let her rest and tell her that things were going to be okay in the morning. He wanted to let her sleep in for once, and when she rose out of her bed he wanted to present her with a plate of her favorite breakfast foods (though he wasn't that great of a cook) like he'd often found her making on the mornings he woke up early enough to steal a taste.

"I'm f-fine…" Marinette told him. She swayed as she walked, her balance inhibited from the alcohol. "Hey, Adrien?"

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

"I want cake really bad. Do they have cake here?"

"They do," Adrien said, cocking a brow in amusement. "Do you want some?"

Alya laughed. "We can order dessert."

With a slice of chocolate cake in front of her, Marinette's mood had considerably brightened. In fact, she was feeling so up in spirits that every time he looked at her she smiled so big, and every time he spoke to her he could see light sparkle in her eyes, the way her cheeks dusted pink with a blush, and how happy she became just from a simple sentence being directed at her. It was adorable, to be honest, and Adrien knew that for a fact. Her smile was too blinding for him to not find it endearing.

Alya and Nino left to the bathroom after a while, so for a few minutes it was just Marinette and himself. She was out of it, yes, but her laughter was enough to keep him entertained. Sure, her speech was a little slurred and she was acting much like she had on Christmas when he'd last seen her drunk, but it was a refreshing sight to see her out and having fun instead of being stuck at a desk all day, working herself to death at a job that didn't pay her enough for the amount of passion she carried.

(He seriously needed to have his dad give her a promotion or a raise or something.)

"You're beautiful," Marinette said suddenly, causing Adrien to give a flattered blink of surprise.

"Oh. Thank you," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. His voice wavered as he replied, "S-so are you, Mari."

She scooted closer to him, fingers running down the skin of his arm as she placed her cheek on his bicep. "Adrien," she breathed, voice quiet, face nuzzling against his arm. He could smell the wine on her breath. "If I asked you a question, would you answer?"

"Of course," he said.

"Would... It be a good answer?"

Those big blue eyes met his own, and Adrien swore he was going to melt. "It depends on the question, I guess," he said.

There was a pause. Then, with her gaze trained on her empty plate, she whispered, "If I told you that… That I wanted to kiss you, would you? Kiss me?"

He looked at her lips.

His heart felt like it had just jumped into his throat. He wanted to say, "yes." He wanted to tell her that he'd been in love with her for years—ever since she'd first introduced herself by trapping them suspended in the air and calling herself clumsy—and that he'd do anything just to know she felt the same way. He wanted to scoop her up and kiss her cheeks and lips and face and tell her that he'd never say no to that question, ever, not once in his life.

But she was drunk. And she wasn't herself.

Instead, he smiled. Placing one of his hands over her own and giving it a gentle squeeze, he said, "Ask me that question again when you're sober, and then we'll see."

She seemed content with that response.

The night went on, the four of them sharing laughs and stories of how their lives had been while living across the ocean from each other, and at one point Nino had spilled his glass of wine on the table, which Marinette had found hilarious. The two of them both had consumed a little too much wine, but so long as they got home safety, Adrien didn't mind. It was actually pretty entertaining to see Marinette and Nino laughing over every little thing someone said or did, and if he hadn't needed to drive home, he might've joined them in their drinking.

Adrien began to feel the beginnings of sleep clutch at the back of his mind. He remained at the table, though, watching Marinette's eyes droop as she swayed. His shoulder had become her pillow at this point—that is, until he had made a quick trip to the bathroom and came back to find Alya combing her fingers through the hair of her best friend, who had fallen asleep with her head propped up on her arms.

It was then Adrien knew that it was time to go home.

With the bill paid and an apology to the restaurant staff for staying so long, Adrien watched as Alya attempted to wake their sleeping friend. Maris only groaned and grumbled in resistance as she urged her to get up. With a roll of her eyes, Alya asked, "Adrien, you're sober, right?"

Adrien nodded. He'd only had one glass. "I'm fine. I'll take her home with me."

"Alright," Alya said. She flashed him a kind smile. "Hopefully she won't kick you for waking her up. Marinette's so mean when she gets woken up sometimes, it's funny."

"Oh, I'm aware," Adrien laughed. "I live with her, remember?"

Lifting her from the booth with a hand supporting her head, Adrien relished in the warmth of her body heat, his heart picking up its pace she pressed her face against his chest. The roll of thunder greeted the group as they walked outside, and as delicate droplets of water began to careen from the sky, Adrien made haste to get Marinette to his car as quickly as possible.

Her hair was soft against the tips of his knuckles as he supported her head, thin wisps of black tresses that carded through his fingers like silk. The road was dark—the yellow street lamps casting a faint golden glow across Marinette's face as a breeze kissed his back, paired with the chill of pale moonlight—and the fabric of her dress brushed against his hands once he set her down in the back of his car.

Marinette was beautiful. That was no mystery. Adrien had known that since he was fourteen and stumbled into their collège homeroom for the first time, seven years ago and counting. She was breathtaking, really, even when she was angry or upset, or on the rare circumstance, completely wasted in the backseat of his borrowed Maserati.

He shook his head with a smile gracing his lips. She was funny like that, laughing and flirting and throwing her social filter completely in the trash, and he couldn't help but cover a hand over his mouth as he stifled a laugh. He glanced to the backseat to make sure that he hadn't stirred her rest.

Alya approached him from behind and he welcomed the hug she pulled him into, giving her a light squeeze and a promise to see them both again soon. Nino did his best to stand upright as Adrien wrapped his arms around him and bid the pair goodnight.

With his friends gone and Marinette resting in his car, Adrien sat down in the driver's seat and buckled up, glancing toward the rear-view mirror to check on her. She was sitting there with a content expression on her face, which eased his nerves about whether or not she was feeling sick.

He was relieved to see her so deep asleep. She needed her rest; he'd let her sleep the whole way home. He'd hate to be the one to wake her after a grueling last few weeks as one of his father's junior designers. Marinette had been stressed to the point of tears as of late, but he didn't blame her—the summer line was something his father took seriously, and his employees tended to suffer from his "all-work, no-break" attitude.

It made Adrien happy to see her sitting so peacefully in the backseat, red-flushed cheek pressed against the window, which was foggy and cool from the beginning showers of rain outside. Her hair was messy, cascading from the bun it had been so perfectly pulled into just a few hours before, and her eyelashes twitched against her freckles as she dozed, oblivious to the world outside her dreams. It was cute—she was cute.

He hoped she was feeling okay. He hadn't seen her like—like that since last Christmas, when she'd attempted to steal an entire ham. But he hadn't been much better then, either.

At least he was sober now. Unlike his friends, he'd gone light on the drinking tonight. Save for Alya, of course, who was four months pregnant and couldn't swallow a drop of alcohol. But they had fun regardless.

Dinner had tasted great, they'd told jokes and laughed until they couldn't breathe, and Adrien had been able to spend time with his best friend again. He hadn't really realized how much he'd missed Nino until he enveloped him in the tightest bear-hug he could manage, since the last time they'd touched each other was when Nino had left him at the airport before he boarded his flight to California.

It felt so good to have everyone together again. And the fact that Alya and Nino were scouting places to live in the area was even better. Especially since they'd be moving back to Paris just a little while after their daughter was born. Daughter, he had to keep reminding himself, because it was still so surreal that Nino was going to have a baby.

Marinette shifted slightly in the backseat. Glancing back at her, Adrien started up the car, thankful that the engine was quiet. The rain poured on outside as he drove. Gutters were flowing with water, the asphalt slick from the storm that raged above them. Neon lights of shops and restaurants passed by like blurred dots in the night, reflecting in the various puddles that scattered the sidewalks and streets. Most people were inside in this kind of weather—it was past midnight, as well—so the city was calm save for the one or two civilians that hurried by in their umbrellas and rain boots, splashing in the pools as they went.

The drive home was quiet.

As he pulled into their complex, Adrien unbuckled, his bangs blowing from his forehead as he let out a sigh. He'd wait until the rain stopped before he brought Marinette home, he decided. He really didn't care for the idea of waking his friend with a splash of rainwater in the face. She might get sick!

His arms, cold from the air conditioning blasting against his damp skin, wrapped themselves around his body while he sat. The clock on his dash read twelve-forty-five A.M. Sleepiness had long since trickled its way into his eyelids, but Adrien fought it off with a yawn, resting his head against the headrest after a stolen glance at his friend in the backseat. She was still asleep, thankfully—but she did look uncomfortable with her neck turned like that, shoulder against the locked door and lips parted just slightly.

Adrien's face hurt from how wide he smiled.

The rain stopped after about fifteen minutes. Switching off the engine and stuffing his car keys into his pocket, he stood from the vehicle, his foot making contact with a poorly-placed puddle that sent a chill up his spine.

Oh, nice. Now he'd have to dry his shoes outside on the balcony for the night.

He opened the door Marinette was leaning on and caught her before she slipped out of the car. It was surprising, seeing her still deep asleep after she'd nearly fallen into a puddle, but Adrien guessed it shouldn't have been. She'd drank enough to last her all the way until tomorrow—and he knew for a fact Marinette normally didn't drink much. Not around him, at least.

She was light in his arms, the fabric of her dress damp from the trickling raindrops that fell from the overhang of the complex roof as he carried her. A strap began to slide down her shoulder. He fixed it before it could travel too far.

Thankfully there was nobody in the lobby as he carried her through it—he really hadn't been in the mood to explain to wandering eyes why he was carrying an unconscious girl up to his apartment, even if his intentions were purely to put her to bed with some aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand by her side.

The elevator ride was agonizingly slow. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was tuck Marinette in and crash hard into his own bed, pajamas be damned. It was late and he was a little cranky, and he really wanted to take his shoes off, but—

But as Marinette nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, and the tip of her nose grazed the surface of his heated skin with the slightest accidental brush of her lips to his collarbone, he felt over the moon. The night couldn't possibly get any better now, not when she was here with him. Nothing could compare to the giddiness he felt inside.

Her breath was hot against him, warming him with every gentle exhale. It was a welcome change from the rainwater that chilled him to the bone.

The elevator dinged as it hit their floor.

She was so soft, he thought, carrying her effortlessly down the hall. So soft and warm and she smelled so sweet, even as the scent of alcohol tainted her breath. She was soft and she was home here in his arms—at least, she was to him—and nothing had ever felt more right than it did in this moment.

Adrien was happy. Happy to be awake and here with Marinette and happy that he was able to bring her home safely to the warmth of their place, where a clean, cozy bed was awaiting her, beckoning him to place her down in its embrace.

He nearly tripped over the welcome mat as he entered the apartment. He used his shoulder to turn on the living room light so he wasn't fumbling around in the dark with his sleeping friend in his arms, careful to step around the couch instead of slamming his body into it like he'd done one too many times late after work when the lights were off and he didn't want to disturb his Lady.

The trek to her bedroom was a short one. With his foot he opened the door, eyes squinting in the black of the night. His feet navigated blindly around the floor as nothing but the pale moonlight permeated through the curtains that hung in front of the window, white and shining from the glimmer of the moon. With a wince he stepped on something hard and had to force his teeth down on his bottom lip to suppress the curse he so badly wanted to emit.

Damn it, Ladybug, you're always on my ass about cleaning up my shit, he thought, smiling despite himself. There was no way Adrien could stay mad at her.

His fingers combed through Marinette's hair as he leaned over the bed. Palm connected to the back of her head, he lowered her until her shoulders connected with the cushioning of her pillows, allowing her to relax atop the bedsheets. Her hands—so delicate and warm to his touch—were curled into loose fists, and as he trailed his fingers down her bare arm, his cheeks blossomed with color, heart swelling with affection. He sat next to her in the darkness, no light nor sound rising in the air save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

It was strange, how perfectly their hands interlocked—almost as if his large, calloused fingers were meant to fold between her own thin ones. Her knuckles were smooth as he ran his thumb over them, taking in every inch, every detail of the way it felt so simply hold her in his grasp. He moved her bangs away from her eyes, the movement causing his ring to clink against the metal of her earrings—and he smiled, because he knew those earrings. He'd known them for a little while, now. And though the information was still overwhelming, Adrien knew he couldn't be more excited with what he'd learned.

His heart was erratic in his chest. Breathing in, he gave her hand a squeeze before he stood from her bed and began to exit her room, but he paused in her doorway to glance back at her one last time.

"Night, Ladybug," he said to her. "Sleep well."

Then he shut her door, switched out the hall light, and went to bed.

A/N: I’m adding my note here from ao3 because I know I’m bound to get questions. So, here: If you have any questions about how he realized it, don't worry! those will all be answered in the next update as we go over adrien's thought process and what exactly had been going through his mind throughout the past few weeks. so... don't yell at me if it doesn't all make sense yet, it will eventually lmao

[fightingorcavingintodepression]

1/16/17 5:17 pm

I had my first panic attack I've had in a long time. I've gotten so bad at work my manager called me at 10AM and left a voicemail. I called him back and said I had a Doctors appointment and forgot to send out an email to the team. I hate lying, but i can’t realistically say I'm suicidal and won't even get out of bed every morning.

I ran to the bathroom and started dry-heaving for a good 2-3 minutes. Then I laid down on my bed and felt like crying, and then Stayed there for nearly another hour.

Kill me.

1/20/17

I'm eating lunch by myself at 3:06 on Friday. I've only hit myself a few times today. I ordered and shipped a present to Shara and it should get there tomorI'mrow, but today is her birthday. I deleted my Facebook and haven't been posting on tumblr, so I'm avoiding everything. I feel guilty and don't know what to do. I'm going to stop typing because I'm tearing up in the restaurant. I'm pushing all of my friends away. I saw Selina last weekend and it was so awkward. I can't even hang out with my best friend without it being awkward. I want to kill myself.

Please let me die in an accident.

10:56 pm I want to keep hitting myself until I don't wake up.

1/25/17 Wednesday 11:39pm

I'm at McDonald's getting a milkshake and food. I've "worked" from home the past three days because I don't wake up till 9 or 10. That's a lie, I'll wake up and hit snooze, but won't force myself into up. On Monday I stayed online till 11:30 and then said o had a doctors appointment and was gong to wfh the rest of the day, but the last two days I haven't even sent anything out. I deserve to get fired. My depression is destroying me.

1/26/17 Thursday 2:30pm

I woke up late at 8:50ish and got online. Did the scheduled work for Austin and once that was finished, drove into the office and got in at about 10:30 (I think). I ate lunch at my desk and I've gone back and forth to the bathroom and just sat. Only work I've done today is finally send an email I've needed to for weeks. Mom asked me to call her at lunch and I finally said I didn't really want to celebrate my birthday. I told her I'd decide on a weekend and give her a call tonight, but I'm not sure I can. It's now 2:48. I've been in the bathroom almost 20 minutes.

2/16 4:29pm

I woke up at 3:30 am and stayed awake, but then fell asleep and didn't get online from home until about 9:40. Came into the office about 12:40. I've done maybe an hours worth of work. I really hate myself. When driving into work nearly had an accident from someone driving recklessly and me not just letting them pass me. They cut to my right into a lane for cars getting on and drove on the side of the road to pass me since I didn't slow down. The driver even had people (possibly kids) in the back of their car. I hate myself, but that person as well if they can justify that type of driving that also may harm their own kids, let alone other people. I started yelling again in my car...it's getting worse.

I hit myself again this morning in the shower.

2/17 12:18am

I can see myself committing suicide within the next year. Depending if I don't get better, maybe not till after my parents pass.

2/20 12:33pm

I didn't get up again today (Monday) until 9:50 and log online. Then finally came in to the office about 10 minutes ago. Off to a bad start of the week. I should be fired. I did "clean" a good portion of my apartment yesterday because at&t suppose to be coming this week. It's still a terrible mess, but you can finally see the floor now. Next is the kitchen.

1:04pm - eating lunch by myself at wich which. Postponing going back to the office. Not sure if taking these notes is beneficial, or even a smart idea (hint, it's not)

2/21 12:31pm

Late again. Thinking of working from home tomorrow. Getting worse. Really worse. Spent too much money yesterday on gifts I'll probably never give.

2/24 11:52am

It's my birthday. Today hasn't been a bad day.

2/28 12:15 pm

In training. Feeling useless. My back is also killing me. Have my APA later today. Guess I'll find out how badly I'm doing or if we'll just pretend I'm doing fine when it's obvious I'm not. Not likely I'll get fired since I'm an ITA, but don't know. Just haven't been given a warning or anything

3/13 12:48pm

I'd been doing okay for a little while. Starting to get worse again. Started saying things again. Didn't wake up for work till 9ish. Didn't get in till 11ish. Need to stop. Want to hurt myself. Want to kill myself. Fighting it. Still doing bad. In the bathroom wanting to hit myself. Shara texted about doing stuff this weekend, and I almost want to back out. I'm suppose to do Aerials with gabby tonight, but want to use my weight as an excuse and say I'm over their limit (which may actually be true, but their website doesn't say and no one picked up when I called), or that I don't have the right clothes, or I'm having a panic attack (probably closest to being honest). And one of the other things that's bugging me in the back of my head today I'm hating myself most of all for it even bothering me.

3/20 4:39am

Mild depression acting up. Want to "call/email" out of work. Smacking myself a bit the past day

3/22 6:14pm

Didn't go into work today and haven't done any work so far. Needing to get a report and presentation done before tomorrow. Depression has been really bad this week. Sleep is getting off. Whispering harmful things to myself and hitting myself more often.

3/24 10:44am

I want to hurt myself. I'm doing really badly this week. No point even coming into work. Can tell I'm being replaced in all areas. Went to lunch with people. Faked it. Now I'm back at the office (2:04pm) and hiding in the bathroom. I feel like I'm gonna pass out. I want to pass out.

I want to die.

3/25 5:02pm

Doing bad today too. Didn't get up till noon. Went to the park to walk, but had negative thoughts the entire time and it didn't help. Convinced myself to go out to dinner at Las Margaritas that I normally get take out from. I plan to make myself sit in the living room when I get home to get out of my bedroom/bed. It feels pathetic, but right now the smallest things feel like an achievement.

3/27 1:41am

I want to kill myself. I just want it to end. I don't want to hurt my family though. I wish I could make them forget i existed so I wouldn't feel guilty about it.

3:06am still lying awake on the couch. The longer I stay awake, the longer I postpone till tomorrow comes.....or that's how it feels. Ready to kill myself.

3/30 8pm

I now weigh 245 pounds. I write this as I sit in line at chick fil-a getting a meal for two people and a milkshake

3/31 6:38

Deleted all of my social media. Specifically tumblr, which I can't reactive. Gone forever.

4/6 1:12pm

Was doing better for a bit because work was busy enough to distract me. Getting too busy now. Think I overheard two people saying they don't want to work with me, and storage team disregards my existence. It's a new feeling when I feel like I'm doing some good work, but know I'm also doing terrible in other areas and people no longer want to work with me. Hitting hard and really want to hurt myself again. I need to make some life choices before I end up committing suicide.

4/7 1:36pm

It might be good to just quit before June. If I sold everything I had, I could pay off all my debt. I'd be left with nothing, but wouldn't leave anything for people to worry about.

4/17 10:21am

So overwhelmed.

4/19 9:08am

Sitting on toilet at home. So overwhelmed at work. Can't get anything done and nothing is going right.

6/1 11:02am Thursday

Hadn't been in the office in almost a week. Had Friday off and Monday for Memorial Day, but lied and said Tom had knee surgery on Tuesday and then wfh on Wednesday. Getting bad again. Realized I hadn't been writing in here for a month and a half. Not sure if that's a good win or not, since I mostly only remember to when I'm getting bad again.

6/25 2:15am

Depression getting bad again. Suicide would be nice. Just want it all to end. If I could sleep for a year, I'd take it.

6/27 12:40pm

Didn't go into work until almost 11 yesterday. Working from home today. Can't even answer a phone call. Have a meeting at 2 and then will probably shower as unavailable the rest of the day.

6/28 3:06pm

Woke up at 5 and still didn't go into work today. Stayed showing as away all day and said I had issues with Skype and car issues

7/14 12:50pm

JB texted me asking if I was off. I should just kill myself. Lying through my teeth. His pa

7/18 3:28am Tuesday

I want to die in an accident so no one I care about thinks it was a suicide.

7/20 1:59pm

Didn't go into work until 12 today. While I was in the shower, my phone range and I just started cursing thinking it was my manager. Already had my lie made up going to say my car stalled this morning coming into work. Didn't have my phone (which is why I didn't pick up if it was them), but luckily a cop pulled over and called a tow truck....

Haven't had to use my lie yet, but going to use parts of it tonight to get out of going to a coworkers house for game night.

I really hate myself.

I need to call in my medicine to see if they'll prescribe it again, even if it doesn't seem like it's helping.

7/31 9:04pm

In line at Taco Bell. Didn't go into work today or Friday. Meant to send an email saying I was taking my mom to doctors and would be back Tuesday, but overslept and didn't bother. Don't want to go in tomorrow either. I haven't been replying to Shara and I feel terrible, but I'm not in a good place either. Hadn't been replying to family until Mom called worried and acted like I just forgot to hit send on some texts. It's easier to act like nothing is wrong with people who don't know I'm not good mentally. I saw a post on Tumblr that describe what I'm feeling. I'm pushing people away so it's easier when I want to kill myself.

9/5 11:42am

Moved to new apartment. Enjoying it so far. Had a 5 day weekend from labor/took Thursday and Friday off to move. 1st day back at work and already feeling overwhelmed and counting down till 4:30. Kill myself creeping inside my head again.

9/21 10:02am

Want to die. Want to die. I just really want to die. Kill myself. Kill myself. I'm so tempted to kill myself. I'd make it look like an accident so not to hurt my family. But I need to find homes for Yen and Shani, or plan accordingly. Could drop them at a shelter, but include some cash to help care for them (1k?). Then someone who is a good person, but just had money trouble would take them. I'm not sure I'll live 15+ years to outlive them. I take that back; I know I won't. I don't even know sometimes if I'll make it to tomorrow. I'm not actually making any attempts or plans to do it, but every time I walk in to work or leave, I hope a car hits me. Kill me kill me I just want to die.

10/18 9:52am

Overslept and didn't go into work today. "Working" from home online. Depression episode kicking in again. I just want to die.

10/31 Tuesday 12:02pm

Didn't get into work until 11 today. Called into the 8:30 conference and answered some emails to appear like I was working, but hardly got out of bed. ~Read back through some of these notes just now and now I've got in the back of my head the idea of starting to hit myself again. I know this is a downward slope, but really want to go to the bathroom stall and do it anyways just so I don't feel numb. It's lunchtime, so no one should be there to hear it. ~~I ended up going to get rubber bands and paper clips instead. Still hit myself s few times, but people kept coming into the restroom while I was in the stall.~

11/1 2:16 pm

In drivethru for chick-fil-a. Working from home rest of week probably. My anger is terrible. Called someone a cunt in the drivethru for honking and it wasn't even at me. My window was down, so think the person in front of me may have heard. I'm a terrible person and hate myself.

11/16 9:14am Thursday

Just got into work. Feel exhausted and drained as always. Just noticed it’s coming up on a year in January when I started making these notes. I honestly don’t know if I’m doing better or not. I’d say I’m not. Definitely not.

12/5/17 2:36pm

It’s a Tuesday, and I’d not been in the office for two weeks (11/21) between workin from home on Wednesday because thanksgiving was the next day, off Thursday and Friday, and then all last week I just never came in. Yesterday I “worked” from home, and today I didn’t get in till about 12. And the only thing I wanted to think about while walking into work because I forgot my headphones and couldn’t drown out the thoughts with music was how I wanted to kill myself. I have a meeting from 3-4 with new agile team (honestly probably only real reason I forced myself into the office). I wonder how fake I can present myself today. Hopefully it won’t be terribly interactive and mostly just informational.

1/14/18 11:27pm

I didn’t go into work at all last week. Was online only Monday for the entire day, and then Wednesday for the day on do-not-disturb. Skipped Tuesday and Wednesday completely though. Need to force myself to go into the office tomorrow. I hate myself. So much to catch up on. I cleaned a bit of the apartment, but still need to do more. My oncall starts next week, and I pray it’s quiet.

1/22/18 3:10am

Won’t go to bed because then the morning comes faster. I’m oncall this week and I just pray nothing happens at all. Even one ticket. Please don’t. I think I have an appointment this Friday about my antidepressants, but honestly I’m not sure. Please let me be left alone this week and work from home. I’ll even make sure I get work done.

1/23/18 12:30am

I’m pathetic at work.

2/4/18 6:43pm Sunday

Out grocery shopping. Tried to do small talk. Wanted to help bag like I do sometimes, but not doing well, so just awkwardly typing this on my phone. I HAVE to get work done when I get home, but haven’t been doing well. I’ll be lucky if I get anything done or I do it in the middle of the night (especially with my sleep schedule).

2/5/18 11:52am

Didn’t get anything done last night, but was able to wake up early and get it submitted by 8 (only one other person has anything uploaded so far). What pisses me off is another teammate setup a meeting at 2 with no heads up. That little amount of time and a same day meeting? Fuck that shit. I’ll attend, but doubt John will and don’t blame him. I said I was going to the doctor earlier, so purposely missed the one actual meeting I had today. Couldn’t get out of bed. Hate myself. Submitted a service request for the lights to be fixed in my apartment, so that’s the one useful thing I’ve done. I was wrong, John did accept. I hate myself.

5/7/18 Monday 8:59am

On the train in to work. Only going in for the ITA orientation and then probably leaving. Probably will stay an hour to get hibachi for lunch and then leave. I’m oncall this week. Please please please don’t have any tickets or sde’s after hours. Please god. Just this once. I’ve been doing so well with my depression, but the last week and a half it’s been dipping again and I’m afraid. On the chart at my therapy office, id finally for the first time dipped below the number for being depressed! I know I’ll always have depression and depression slumps, but it’s scary going back into my first one after doing well for almost two months. I don’t want to go back into that. I really don’t. Please just don’t have my oncall this week go badly. Dear god, just please don’t. I don’t want to breakdown in tears from anxiety this week. Make my next oncall worse, but just let me not have to worry about anything this week. Please.

5/7/18 Monday 11:21am

Doing better mentally once I got in the office and moving. It’s sad how easily that change can happen. You’d think I’d be happy, but just makes me realize how easily I can drop again. Part of me knows I could stay at the office and continue working, but the other half doesn’t care. I’m eating hibachi and then taking the train home.

5/10/18 1:02pm

Finishing up lunch at hisaki and then going into office. Have to recount all of the WebLogic VM counts manually.....

All the work before I did is basically useless.

Time to go through 400+ (maybe less since a good number are in the shared environment) and find out their host count. I shouldn’t really be complaining. Just didn’t want to have to do/worry about anything till after my vacation.

Now it’s 1:32 and I’m sitting in the toilet just waiting for the day to end. Shoot myself shoot my self I just want to shoot my self.

5/23 5:12pm

Felt sick the past few days. Worked from home. Throat is killing me, but in line at McDonald’s and going to get

5/25 Friday 11:27am

Hardly worked at all this week. Ignored a voicemail to call back my PO. Work is frustrating me.

I just hit myself for the first time in a long time again. Chest, face, head. It felt good

5:57pm clenching my fists in drive through. Want to hurt myself

5/28 Monday 2:04pm Memorial Day off work

At the bbq place getting Togo food. Been in bed all day/all weekend really. Felt sick, but also depressed. Stomach was so upset, didn’t take antidepressants yesterday. Going to take them for today when I get back. Still, I’ve not been doing well at all. Hitting myself more. Mainly the chest. May even do it on the way home. Just feeling numb again. Started reblogging suicidal/depression posts on tumblr again. It’s pathetic. Like a cry for help to the two I know who are on tumblr, but one never acknowledges them, and the other rarely gets on anymore. I have therapy this Friday (o think?) and have no improvement to speak of to the doctor. Overslept one from depression, but rescheduled the last one due to work issues. Slit my throat. Want to die. Let it end. Started singing those little tunes to myself the last week or two. Want to hurt myself. Really just want to drop dead from an accident. Get someone to take care of my cats, and then my family won’t think it’s a suicide.

6/12 10:59am Tuesday

Sitting at train station going into work. Just got back from surgery follow up and everything is fine. Spent maybe 10 minutes there in total. Now I’m going into work to eat my unhealthy lunch hibachi chicken and soda as always. I’m sad all the team. I have an in person meeting from 2-2:50, but will probably leave after that. Unless I ask Carter if he needed help with patching and he says yes, which is why I’m considering if I even should?? Wow, that’s pathetic of me. I only have to make it till EOD Thursday. Then I’ll watch Lily for the weekend, have my therapy session on Friday, and (maybe?) visit Mom and Tom on Sunday.

6/24 Monday 10:46am

I may barely make it into the office for an 11am meeting. This isn’t going to be a good week.

7/3 Tuesday 6:11pm

I missed my medicine twice in the last week (I think? Or only once). But just don’t care to take it anymore since I’ve noticed

7/9 Monday 12:15am

This isn’t gonna be a good week. I can already tell.

7/22 Sunday 1am

Doing patching. Teammates were being fucking useless, so I got offline and said I was having internet issues. It’s been a fucking hour and they’ve not done shit. The job is still hung exactly where it was when I left off. They’ve not tried to do anything at all. There are two more groups that have to run for Linux, and we’re already 2/3 hours of patching there is from 11-2am. Cancel the ticking job you dipshits. I even sent an email basically telling you to!!! I did all the ducking work for you!!! Instead you just sit there for an hour doing nothing!!! Cancel the fucking job!! If it gets to 1:30am and still nothing, I’m sending a follow up email and ccing myself. I’m not even suppose to be in charge here!! They are!!! At least Brandon should be. Daniel is ridiculously new, but clearly knows more, so make the ticking call too, for fuck sake.

- they finally did when I was typing this all out. And of course it was the new kid, not the guy who is a full time employee who should be making the call. Then again, I’m a waste of space too. Just got fed up with them and quit with a bullshit excuse. I’m trash. Now that I’ve calmed down, I hate myself again.

Thursday 7/26 2:54pm

First time I’ve been in the office I think nearing 3 weeks? I’ve not been taking my antidepressants as consistently. So tired all the time. Hardly get out of bed. Didn’t go to therapy last week. I need to call tomorrow to cancel next weeks too unless it’s early in the morning. And also schedule more since I don’t have any after that. And also reschedule one on a different day for my medicine.

Just got off my 3pm call. PO wasn’t there, so I basically lead. Talked for like 5 fucking minutes before my team lead said they’ve been doing it manually the last 4 days. So basically I’m a fucking idiot and out of the loop. I’m definitely not Sr IT analyst ready. I’m just gonna leave work. I hate myself. Put myself on do not disturb and closed my laptop. Ran and caught the train. I’m so ducking fat and out of shape. I should just go skydiving by myself and not pull the parachute. Quick and easy. Could I do it in a body bag so it’s less of a mess for the people who have to clean it up? Sky dive, pull the bag out midair. Put it on and zip it up. Splat. Done. Kaput. 😊

How many weeks vacation do I have? Just use it all at once and disappear. Then when it’s up I just never come back. I wanna jump in front of a car or train, but not okay with the impact it’d have on the person driving. If I jump off mountain, the only person it might hurt is the people who found me? Plus annoy the people who have to clean me up.

Could have a suicide note and send it in so the police can find me easily? Idk. Can’t do anything till my cats are okay.

8/14/18 Tuesday 10:19am

On the train to work. Only going in to have an in person meeting. Didn’t wake up till 9:20 and only jumped up because of the daily Standup call at 9:30. Have patching this week and next. Alex is out the rest of the week, so I’m in charge of Windows....never done it by myself, yet alone enough with someone else to be confident. Need to send out the email as soon as we get Tom’s email tomorrow. Get the jobs running and finish documentation. I think Wednesday only has noreboot servers and is a small window? Hopefully okay.

I’ve not been taking my medication. Haven’t been to the doctors in really long (therapy/antidepressant doctor). I have roughly 35 days to get in better shape/health/mental state before going to Samantha’s to see Welcome to Nightvale. Will it happen? No idea.

Still on the train. 10:27. I feel so num. no emotion at all.

5:49pm - on the train home from work. Got a lot done today, so feel somewhat decent. If I can bury my head in work and actually get stuff done, I won’t notice my depression sometimes.

9/5 Wednesday 10:51 am

Have a big kickoff meeting I’m leading. Has a shit ton of people in it. Don’t feel confident. Stomach is nauseated. Want to hurt myself too. Get it over with. Cut my throat. Let me die. Die die die die.

9/20 Thursday 11:05am

Have barely worked the last week since the hurricane hit and we’re in storm mode. Had my first “shift” start at 6 this morning, and I was the only one in the room. Was a good thing I came in to the office. Actually got some stuff done. Just really tired since I couldn’t get to sleep till 2:30 or 3, and got up at 4:22. Going home right at 2. Today hasn’t been bad, but I’m exhausted and sad at myself for being so fat and out of shape.

Animal crossing

Love Nicky

Clash royal

Good fantasy

9/26 11:53am

On train into work. Have two in-person meetings this afternoon. I regret volunteering to do the ITA stuff. Just added stress with no good outcome. My stomach hurts too. Don’t know if something actually wrong, or just anxiety of everything with work, deciding to go to the BigFix event tomorrow during work hours, and text Samantha lying I can’t come to the show. Too many lies happening at once due to my anxiety. I guess I do have anxiety. My depression making my life difficult makes me have anxiety. God my stomach hurts. Kill me kill me I want to die. Slit my throat just want to die. Just disappear I just want to disappear. First steps I need to take today to help fix my anxiety

1. Call and reschedule therapy as soon as I get off train DONE

2. Talk to Cathy and then John about change freeze issue with Websphere maintenance. Then get communications out. SENT AN EMAIL

3. Prep documentation for ITA meeting at 3. WORKING ON

4. Plan what time to leave tomorrow

5. Text Samantha for details (address, what time I should get there, etc)

6. Plan to drive home after show

Die die die die die die di die die die die die kill me

10/3 Wednesday 2:51pm

I’ve not been into work since last Wednesday, and hardly online all this week. Finally got a text from manager this morning asking what’s up. Ready to kill my self.

10/4 Thursday 1:24pm

On the train into work for a 2pm meeting I’m hosting. I may barely make it in. Barely. Or I’ll be late. Shocker. I’m useless. I look and feel disgusting. Literally just need to know if Cathy will fight if we have to push the qa and prod environment during a change freeze. If not, what will happen if we have pushed test and dev, but can’t push prod/qa for months?? I highly doubt that’s okay.

11/1/2018 Thursday 1:12pm

Waiting for the train. Overslept for therapy and then an important meeting I said I’d be late for, but not miss the entire fucking thing. I’ve pretty much given up on therapy for now. Doesn’t make a difference, and won’t get another appointment for 2-3 months, if they’d even give me one with how many no-shows I’ve done. My stomach acid is killing me.

Have meeting. Schedule jobs for 5. Go eat hibachi. Take train home. Meeting is at 2. Doubt chuck will be there. Cathy may call in or not. Literally just depends if John/srini at there. If not, will be over in 10 minutes. If they are, just keep chugging along with Websphere (need to plan how to do QA and PROD along side OS patching.

QA

Wednesday - do it right after patching for Linux/aix. Try and include windows in the patching, or same scenario.

Do we think it’s worth doing adc/cdc groups still? Or just all at once?

Thursday - Linux/aix I do manually (hit B & C right at 5, and then A when it finishes)

11/29 Thursday 9:25am

Going into the office. I’m just really sad. I’m up to 283lbs without any clothes on. I’m working nights now with patching at work. I’m rude to the point that I don’t even move my bag on the train. It’s just all really sad. It’s not bad enough I’m hurting myself or suicidal thoughts, but I’ve just been emotionally numb. I quit taking my medicine for about a week or two, but then noticed an increase in anger, so started taking them again.

12/18 Tuesday 3:39pm

Sitting at a jimmy johns nears my apartment eating. On vacation from work, and watching Lily till Thursday, but I’ve had to be online some because patching still isn’t being covered by the EDC, even though Matt apparently was handling it but clearly didn’t? I’ll be up anyways, so I’m not mad mad, but more just annoyed, because I’m not doing this come January. Pretty depressed though. Sleeping all the time. I weigh over 285lbs now. Maybe I’ll die from a heart attack in 2019? I’ve not been taking my medicine lately, but I’ll run out soon anyways unless I schedule an appointment with my doctor. Definitely see my anger spiking some when I’m not on it while driving or the sorts. Last Friday I went into work and ran into my manager(s) which was good. Talked some, and mentioned about the possibility of moving to Durham. Would be okay, but did mention Charlotte is better career wise, which is true (but I’m okay with that?). I’m just sad all the time still. Apartment is a mess almost always, which isn’t good for the cats. I hardly ever clean their litter boxes, and it’s disgusting for them. Which reminds me I have to take them to the vet. I should call when I get back to schedule something and also clean their litter boxes before anything else.

2/18 10:02am

On my way into work to train one guy on patching, even though I’ll probably be the one having to do it the rest of the week. Was in an accident yesterday. Car hit me from behind. Surprisingly still shaken from it. I’m pathetic. Have to call insurance today since they said they were closed yesterday. Hopefully it’s just visual damage. The bumper popped off a bit, but I don’t know if it can just be popped back into place. I know nothing about cars. Other persons was much worse, but no one was hurt at least. I wish I was hurt. Just kill me. Be done with it all.

Work is never ending stress, this fucking house is too. AND I JUST REMEMBERED IM ON-CALL ALL THIS WEEK FFS. Please let it be quiet. I’m begging you. With all the SDE’s and ongoing stuff, don’t let there be anything for me. Slit my throat.

2/20 Wednesday 2:04pm

Sitting at a car body repair shop getting an estimate by Statefarm. Hopefully should be fine. Work is stressing me out. House is too. I’m responsible for getting the WebLogic patching done, but it’s all up to Srini looking at the problem servers. It’s not fair to him as I’m sure he’s swamped, but he’s the only one who can fix it. Also that one guy who sent that needs to go fuck himself. Passive aggressive fuck. Then with the house. They finally responded saying they want their roofer to take a look, which is fine. Just don’t come back and argue you’re not doing anything. I’m so done with that shit. Just offer to pay half and be done with it. Then my mental health is just terrible. Want to hurt myself. When I get home may take a butter knife or something and hurt myself. Cut my throat. Not even going into the office tomorrow even though I said I would. Fuck Friday. Please be a quiet oncall week. I’m beginning you, just like I do ever time I’m oncall. It’s pathetic. Wish I had cancer instead of Tom. Let me die instead of him. Mom needs him. Just let me die.

It’s Wednesday. Need to make it through the weekend. “Work day” just tomorrow. Have other work to do, but I’m not as worried about the after hour work for IE9 IE11 and office 2010 SP2. Slit my throat slit my throat

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part x

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

And we’ve finally come to the end of Cass and Mat’s story! I want to thank every person who’s read this over the past few months, especially those of you who have reblogged, commented, and shared this with your friends. Your feedback means the world to me, and please tell me what you think of this final part! I’ve also got some ideas floating around for an epilogue, so don’t be surprised if that pops up in the next few weeks.

part x

May 21 (fri)

For once, it wasn’t Cass’ alarm that woke her up. Her internal clock didn’t let her sleep in past 6, but as she lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to her chin and curls up in a haphazard messy bun, a realization struck her. She didn’t have anything to do, and that was just about as far from normal for her as possible. Normally, she’d be hopping in the shower at this time, getting out and shoveling some cereal down her throat before running to catch the train, or desperately trying to finish some last-minute reading before an early lecture. Her grandparents’ flight didn’t land at JFK until 1, and she wouldn’t need to leave until an hour before that to get Mat and drive to the airport. 

Padding out to the kitchen, she just caught Ryanne, who was about to leave for a clinical rotation. “What department are you in this month?” Cass asked.

“OB/GYN,” Ryanne responded. “I got to observe a birth the other day, and it was one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do so far. Obviously I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I might want to match into it. You get to do a little bit of everything — there’s some surgery, some routine care, some deliveries. And with the Black maternal health crisis, I figure we need all the Black OBs we can get as a country.” 

Cass smiled. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad to hear.” She knew that Ryanne had been a little stressed out with the prospect of trying to pick a residency; she hadn’t felt drawn to any of the other rotations she’d gone through quite like this one. 

“What about you? What’s your schedule like today?” Ryanne asked as she poured coffee into her travel mug. 

Cass flopped down on the couch, looking over at her. “It’s just...I have nothing to do. Nothing needs to get done. No cases to read, no essays to finish, no paperwork to file or anything. Chris gave me this week off for finals anyways, so I couldn’t even go into the office if I wanted to because there’s just nothing for me to do. Do you know how rare that is for me?”

Ryanne laughed. “Cass, I’m in med school. The last time I had a true ‘off day’ was two weeks ago, and even then I spent most of it studying.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder. “See you tonight, have a good day, babe!”

After some toast and a smoothie, Cass was back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something to do. She thrived on being busy, thrived on feeling like she was needed and contributing to something worthwhile. Pushing herself up, she walked back to her room, deciding to change and go out for a run. Cass liked to keep in shape and exercise as often as she could, even though it had been a few years since she had been on an organized sports team. She was usually able to make yoga classes at the school gym twice a week, but typically didn’t have the spare time in the mornings for a run. And by the time she got back it was almost always dark, way too late to even think about going out alone. 

Lacing up her tennis shoes and grabbing her AirPods and keys, she set out, down the stairs and past the door. As she jogged down the streets, making familiar turn after familiar turn, Cass realized something remarkably profound. Every place she passed had played a part in the last three years. St. Lucy’s, where she had stumbled in with inconsolable tears after her abuelo’s stroke, lighting a candle and praying with some old Italian woman for his recovery. The bodega on the corner run by Carlos Gonzalez, one of the first people she met when she moved to the city and the only one who knew how to smoosh her sandwiches down how she likes. The Edible Arrangements where she, Stella, and Ryanne had bought Alicia a congratulatory fruit bouquet for finally asking out her coworker Juliette. They had been dating for six months. The high school she passed every morning on her way to the subway station. These were the people and places that had made her life what it was, and she owed them her thanks. 

An hour and five miles later, Cass decided to call it quits, walking the last few blocks back to the apartment as a sort of cool-down. She jumped in the shower, throwing her hair up in a towel once she got out and resigning herself to watching whatever was on TV. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives it was, apparently. Four episodes and one snack break later, it was time to get in the car to head over and pick up Mat. Cass drove down Manhattan Island, tapping her fingers in boredom as she hit yet more traffic. It was noon, why was there even traffic in the first place? She pulled into the visitor’s spot in the underground lot of Mat’s apartment complex, taking out her phone. Just got here! Mat popped out of the elevator a few minutes later, holding a bouquet of tulips. “Sorry I’m late, I was going back and forth between tulips and sunflowers for awhile, but I figured the pink was maybe a better choice? What do you think?” Cass started to laugh, and Mat looked offended. “What?”

“Babe, it’s so sweet that you want to impress my grandma, but have you thought about how the poor flowers will fare?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Cass adjusted her seatbelt, leaning over. “We’re going to be out for awhile. We’re not going straight back to their hotel. So…” she prompted.

“They’ll wilt.” Mat finished, his face falling. 

She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry. It’s a sweet gesture and I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. We’re all going out for dinner after the ceremony tomorrow, why don’t you bring them then?” 

He perked up. “I’ll run up and put them back in a vase, be back in a few!” Mat gave Cass a quick peck on her cheek, leaving her with just one question. Mat owned vases? He slid back into the passenger’s seat shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in and connecting his phone to the speakers. 

Cass rolled her eyes. “I don’t know a single guy your age who’s not obsessed with John Mayer. It’s kind of weird, honestly.”

“You don’t like him?” Mat asked curiously. Cass was usually into more guitar-based, acoustic stuff, so he figured she’d be into at least some of his stuff. 

“Some of it,” Cass responded, pulling out of the lot and onto the street. “Go ahead and play it, I don’t mind at all. Not what I’d usually put on if I’m alone, that’s all.”

Mat nodded, looking absentmindedly out the window. “So, what should I know about your grandparents?”

Cass’ face immediately burst into a smile at their mention. It was always so clear how much she loved her family, and that was one of Mat’s favorite things about her. How hard she loved. “Alright, so it’s Dolores and Roberto Cabrera. They’re wonderful people, I genuinely think you’re going to like them a lot. They’re both super fluent in English, so don’t worry about communication. They originally immigrated to Texas when they were in their teens, abuela was a housekeeper at a few hotels in San Antonio and abuelo worked in the fields for awhile before getting a job at a little hardware store in town, where he worked until they retired. My mom’s the middle of four, two older sisters and a younger brother.”Mat listened intently. “My abuelo’s a little more rough around the edges, so don’t be surprised if he gives you  a little bit of a hard time, but it’s not out of malice or anything. He’s always been very protective over us, my mom and her siblings, and now us three. He might do the whole ‘nobody’s good enough for my Cassidy” thing, but he’ll get over it. He means well.” 

She glanced over at Mat, who was looking decidedly nervous. “Seriously, chou, it’s going to be fine. Abuela’s totally different, they’re like polar opposites. I can almost guarantee that she’ll say something to the effect of ‘if my granddaughter loves you, I love you.’ Very much go with the flow, she’ll probably want to come over to your apartment and cook for you.” Her expression softened. “As long as you’re kind and respectful, they won’t have an issue with you, Mat. They’ll see that you treat me how I deserve to be treated and love me like I deserve to be loved.”

Cass pulled into the garage by the international arrivals terminal, cutting the gas and checking the time. “The flight was supposed to land at one, so they should be getting out of passport control by the time we get inside.” It was a little after one thirty, but if there was anything Cass knew, it was just how long customs could take at an airport as big as JFK. Even in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and even though her grandparents were travelling on their American passports and could use the citizen’s line, she had heard that it could take upwards of an hour or two to get through. 

The concourse was pretty bare apart from a few kiosks selling “I ❤️ NY” shirts and a surprisingly busy Noah’s Bagels, so Mat and Cass made themselves comfortable on one of the rows of plastic chairs lining the room. The arrivals screen had marked their flight from Mexico City as having landed nearly an hour prior, so it was little surprise when Cass popped up from the chair, straightening her shirt and walking over to a couple that he could only assume were her grandparents. Mat quickly followed, catching up to her just as she threw her arms around her grandma. “Abuela, te extrañé,” she said, the sound muffled by Dolores’ scarf. She pulled back, kissing her grandpa on the cheek before stepping over to Mat, one hand placed reassuringly on his back. “Abuela, abuelo, this is Mat, my boyfriend.”

Mat stuck his hand out, shaking theirs. “Mr. and Mrs. Cabrera, it’s so amazing to finally meet you. Cass speaks so highly of you, and she always talks about her summers in Hermosillo.” 

Dolores pulled Mat in, embracing him from the start just as Cass had expected. “Mat, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cassidy has told us so much about you, it’s clear she loves you a great deal.”

Mat ducked his head and blushed. “I’m not sure if she can love me more than I love her, but I’m happy to be in such good company.” 

He took both of their suitcases as Cass gestured to the sliding doors. “I want to get back to the car before they charge me for another half hour,” she said. 

Mat slid the bags in the trunk of the car as Dolores got in the passenger’s seat. With a gulp, Mat realized that meant he had to sit next to Roberto. He had been perfectly nice on the walk over, but as Cass had warned him, it was clear that he was a little guarded. Whether that was just his personality or whether Mat had yet to earn his trust hadn’t been determined. 

Her grandparents had been to New York once or twice before, but it had almost always been just to fly in before driving up to visit Cass’ family in Connecticut; they had never really been able to see the city. Cass  felt strongly that that had to change, so she had arranged for a mini-tour of Manhattan before they got dropped off at their hotel for the night. “So, Mat,” Dolores said, turning around in her chair, “Cassidy tells us you’re a hockey player? That must be so exciting, how long have you been playing?”

Mat nodded. “Yes ma’am. I play for the Islanders, so we’re right here in Brooklyn, but I live over in Manhattan. I’ve been playing the sport since I was four or so? Really little. But I just finished my fourth season on the Islanders. And it is exciting, I love being with my team and being on the ice, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” 

“That must keep you busy, though?” Roberto asked gruffly. 

Mat froze. He couldn’t lie and say that he was home all the time, able to be there for Cass as often as he’d like to, because he wasn’t. But if he let on just how often he was gone, would that make him even more wary? “Oftentimes, yes,” Mat began slowly. “The team’s usually on two or so road trips a month, they’re usually about a week long. But they’re balanced out with plenty of home games, and there’s lots of guys who balance the job with a family and other responsibilities. I’m always excited to be able to be back in New York, I love it here. And to be with Cass.” Roberto nodded, not seemingly totally satisfied but content enough to not push the issue further. 

“He’s really good about spending time with me, abuelo, even though we’ve both got busy schedules,” Cass added, catching Roberto’s eye in the rearview mirror. “We meet in the morning before a class to get coffee, or lunch in between studying if I’ve got time. I go to every game I’m able to when he’s playing here in the city, or over in Jersey. We spend plenty of time together, he doesn’t blow me off. You don’t have to worry.” He seemed much more at ease with his granddaughter’s response. 

It was a whirlwind three hours around New York, Cass playing chauffeur as they went to the top of the Empire State Building — her pick — in St. Patrick’s Cathedral  — her grandpa’s pick — and around Central Park, stopping at one of the many pretzel carts for a snack. They dropped them off at the hotel, Cass’ eyes getting misty as her grandma pulled out the serape stole from her purse. Her fingers danced over the colors, the stripes of red and blue and pink and green, and knowing that it was made by the hands of someone so important to her made it all the more beautiful. The rest of her family was driving in later that night, after Nick got out of school, so everyone wouldn’t be together until the graduation ceremony the next day. 

The couple decided to get takeout on the way back to Mat’s apartment, Mat jumping out of the car to run in and pick up the order while Cass circled the block until he was out. As they sat on the couch, cuddled into each other as they broke into the boxes of Chinese food, Cass thought absentmindedly that Mat handled his chopsticks way better than she ever would have given him credit for. Her grandparents had been on her mind. More specifically, her grandparents and Mat had been on her mind. It wasn’t that she thought he had messed up in any way — she was positive he’d absolutely won over her grandma and her grandpa was slowly but surely coming around — but some lingering concerns about what they might think about their relationship. “I’m not sure that they’d actually care, but when you talk to them tomorrow maybe don’t mention how often I sleep over here? They’re wonderful people, but they’re a little old school about this stuff.” 

“This stuff?” Mat asked curiously. 

“Living together, sex before marriage, that kind of stuff.” 

“And how do you feel about it?” 

Cass raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think you could ever get me to do something I didn’t want to do? I’m way too stubborn for that.” Mat threw his head back, laughing. “But seriously. I don’t make the decision lightly, because commitment and intimacy in that way is something really big and important to me. You already knew that I don’t do hookups, it’s just not my thing. But I can see this, us, going places. I want us to go places. And I’ve never been very good at listening to people when I don’t want to. So I’ve made my peace that my choices might not be ones everyone would be thrilled with, but it doesn’t really matter to me as long as I have you.” 

Mat nodded, putting down his food to card one hand through her curls. “I get that, I do. Obviously that’s not so much the attitude with a lot of the boys, but your principles are part of what makes you who you are, and I love who you are. Every part of you.” Cass smiled against his neck, leaning down and kissing him on the shoulder. “I want us to go places too, I hope you know that.”

“Glad to hear.”

They ate without speaking for a few more minutes until Mat broke the silence. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 

“With you,” Cass answered honestly. “Here, or we could get a nice brownstone over in Brooklyn.” 

“Somewhere with a yard,” Mat mused. 

“Yeah, a yard would be nice,” Cass agreed. “I’d like to get a dog, I’ve always grown up with dogs and it would be nice to have someone to keep me company when you’re gone.” Her family’s two dogs, Patches and Scout, were back at the house in Connecticut, and on more than one occasion, Cass had made the two-hour drive up just to see them. She paused, glancing down at her hands. “In five years? You’d better have put a ring on my finger by then, Mat. I’ll be almost thirty. Approaching old maid status” 

Mat laughed, an easy, breathy sort of laugh that somehow erased all of the tension in the room. “I think you should double-hyphen.” 

Cass looked at him doubtfully. “Cabrera-Shaw-Barzal? Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that one.” 

He shrugged, the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile. “Just saying. It’s got a ring to it.”

“Have you given much thought to what you’d want to do with your name when you get married?” Mat asked curiously. It really didn’t matter much to him, since it would ultimately be Cass’ decision, but he didn’t want to assume anything regardless. And it didn’t escape Cass that he said when, as if it was certain, as if it was a given. The surety made her heart flutter. 

Cass shook her head. “Not particularly. On one hand, I do like the idea of the whole family having the same name. It seems nice. Unified. But I don’t want to feel like I’m erasing my culture and who I am just because I’m getting married. And all due respect, chou,” Cass poked Mat’s cheek, “but Cabrera Shaw’s the name on my degrees. Cassidy Barzal didn’t go to law school.”

“Very fair,” Mat said with a chuckle. 

Cass took a deep breath. If it seemed like they were having the “future talk,” she figured it was best to go all in. “Do you want kids?” she asked, tentatively, hesitantly. It was obvious that Mat was good with kids, she’d seen as much, but being good with kids and wanting children of your own were two very different things. Cass had wanted to be a mom since she knew what a mom was, and even though they probably should have brought up the topic earlier, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he said no. Thank God, she never had to find out. 

“Definitely,” Mat said, nodding. “Not now, obviously, we’re young and haven’t really settled down yet. If you got pregnant we’d make it work, but I don’t think either of us is looking to be parents right away. But in a couple years, once we’re married and have a proper house with space...Yeah, I’d like to have kids.” He looked over at Cass. “What about you?”

“Always wanted kids,” Cass responded fondly. “I loved growing up with siblings, and I know my parents were the same way. Two or three, I think. I’ve thought about adoption too, but obviously that’s way in the future.”

Mat kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”

 May 22 (sat)

 The graduation ceremony itself wasn’t until noon, so Cass had more than enough time to get ready after waking up at 7. Alicia barrelled into her room at exactly 7:22, throwing a shirt at her and telling her to get dressed. Cass stumbled out of the room ten minutes later, pulling on socks and grabbing her phone from the charger by her door. “What are you guys trying to pull?” she asked, yawning and trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Uh, we’re going to the diner, duh,” Stella said with a smile, tossing Cass her purse. “Come on! You know it fills up early on weekends.” Glen’s Diner had become an apartment staple over the past few years, the restaurant having been the first place the four of them had eaten in the city when they moved, not having bought groceries yet and not wanting to pay the premium for delivery. It was cheap, open 24/7, and Cass would swear up and down that their blueberry pancakes were the best she’d ever had. 

They were seated just after 8, happily slurping coffee and stealing bites of each other’s breakfast twenty minutes later. It was a nice day and hadn’t gotten too hot yet, so they decided to walk back after finishing the meal. In reality, “going back” meant Alicia stopping to buy a new necklace, listening to a busker for a few minutes, and petting no fewer than five dogs on the one-mile walk. There was still plenty of time before they had to leave for the ceremony, but after Cass did her makeup and tamed her curls, there was just enough time to watch an episode of Parks & Rec before having to actually get her stuff together. Not as flexible as she once had been, Ryanne helped zip up the back of her dress, a white lace bodycon from her sorority days that she had definitely worn to at least two semiformals. Hey, Cass thought as she straightened her hemline, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

She had ironed her robe and put it into a dress bag the night before, and gently folded her school stole and the serape from her abuela into her purse. Mat’s necklace hadn’t left its place since Valentine’s. Her dad’s parents had given her a beautiful pair of pearl studs for her undergraduate graduation, and it felt only right to wear them for her next step. She fastened the ankle straps on her heels, and popped her head out to the living room. “Everyone ready?” She was met with a chorus of “yeses,” and grabbed her keys from their dish by the front door. 

“Let’s go get our girl graduated!” Alicia hollered into the street. 

The girls had originally objected to Cass driving herself to her own graduation, but relented as soon as Cass reminded them that she was the only one who knew where to find the free parking, and the rest of them only drove sedans. “Cheryl has way more room. Y’all want to be cramped on purpose?” 

“Fair point,” Stella had said begrudgingly. 

Exactly twenty-six minutes later, Cass pulled into a spot about two blocks away from the arena where she would be graduating in an hour’s time, hugging each of her friends as Ryanne handed her the dress bag. “You’re going to kill it in there,” she said, rubbing her back. 

Cass laughed. “Ry, all I’ve got to do is walk across a stage without tripping.”

She shrugged. “It’s a fine art that few have mastered.” 

Cass entered through the side, flashing her ID to the security guard standing by the door. Half an hour later, everyone had been ushered into their seats, carefully arranged in alphabetical order. For the most part, Cass was friendly with everyone in her class; if they weren’t outwardly hostile to her, she saw no reason why they deserved anything other than kindness, but was relieved to see Robin sitting next to her. “You excited?” Robin asked, brushing a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. The lobby doors must have opened, because as she asked, crowds started to mill into the seats, waving at anyone who would catch their eye. 

Cass bounced her head. “I am, but it’s kind of surreal, you know? I knew we’d get to this point, obviously. It’s what we’ve been working towards for seven years, really. But the idea that it all essentially comes down to this…”

“An hour, a few handshakes, and a piece of paper,” Robin helpfully supplied. 

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost anticlimactic in a way? Like sure, we’ve got our JDs after this, but knowing we’ve still got to pass the bar. We’re not over the finish line yet.”

“Columbia has a 97% pass rate, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Cass. And I’ve spent three years surrounded by the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“Fair,” Cass said, “it’s just kind of a weird feeling, you know?” Robin nodded. “And plus, for most of us, we’ve pretty much spent our whole lives in school. Aside from positions as summer associates, or part-time jobs and internships, we don’t really know how to do anything other than school. It’s just a little bit of a daunting thought to suddenly feel like we’re being thrown out to the wolves without really knowing what to expect.” Cass’ phone, which she wasn’t technically supposed to have but had snuck in anyways, chose that moment to buzz with a text notification. It was from Mat.

Met up with the crew! Can’t wait to see you walk across that stage, Cass. I love you and we’re all so proud of you. Mat had attached a photo of everyone she had brought with her — both sets of grandparents, her parents and siblings, and roommates. 

“Your boyfriend is nauseatingly cute,” Robin observed, looking over her shoulder at the message. 

Cass laughed. “That’s true, but I knew what I was getting myself into.” The music started ten minutes later, and the ceremony began. If Cass was being honest, she didn’t really remember much of anything from the first half of the ceremony, before the conferral of diplomas. She was so excited and nervous and unbelievably ready all at the same time that all she recalled from the dean’s speech and the student speeches were vague comments about their “awesome responsibility” and “duty to pursue truth and justice” and “commitment to fight for what is right over what is easy.” 

As soon as she realized it, her row was being ushered into line to receive their diplomas. “Cassidy María Cabrera Shaw.” She heard her name, but really had no clue who had spoken it. The dean? One of her professors? As Cass walked up the steps and across the stage, the only thing she could think was don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip. Then she was handed a diploma, flashed a brilliant smile for the photographer, and shook hand after hand after hand before walking off the other side of the stage. She was pretty sure she could hear Mat and Noah yelling their congratulations from her seat on the floor. 

Having a name towards the front of the alphabet meant that Cass was almost always called on quickly in class, or on roll call, or at graduation, as the case was. But that meant that she had to sit, quietly and politely, for the other four hundred names to be called. And it took awhile. After Robin Cahill came Wesley Coleman, then Samuel Cogswell, then Fiona Chan. Cass didn’t mind having to sit through the whole thing, especially when Fiona, Les, Samaira, and her other friends crossed the stage — she cheered as much as anybody — but it was a long time to be sitting in a folding chair and the thousands of people packed into a small space didn’t help her temperature regulation. 

There was the benediction and congratulations, and then the recessional of the graduates. Graduates, Cass thought. She was a graduate. She had finished, she was done, she had accomplished the one thing she wanted most to do since she was a little girl watching Legally Blonde for the first time, looking at Elle Woods and thinking I can do that. And she had. Her feet carried her to the back room of their own accord, where she picked up her bag and was engulfed in a flurry of hugs, congratulations, and kisses on the cheek from her friends, the people who she had spent countless late nights in the library with, bar hopping to celebrate the end of finals, and afternoons on each other’s apartment couches, yelling fact patterns at each other and trying to come up with an analysis before the timer went off.  

Following the stream of sky blue graduation gowns, Cass walked outside, waving at her family when she spotted Eliana hanging off of a lamppost in the courtyard to get a better view. Her sister nearly tackled her as she made her way to the group. “Cass. I already knew you were brilliant, and I still think  you’re the smartest out of any of us,” she gestured between the two of them and Noah, “but now you’ve got the degree to prove it. I’m so proud of you.” 

Noah was next. “You worked hard, and I know how badly you wanted this. You’re a really good sister.” He wasn’t usually a big talker, and Cass’ eyes definitely got a little misty as he spoke. He had verbally committed to Minnesota State the week before, and Mat might have been more excited than even Cass when he heard the news. It was an incredible program that had a serious track record of sending players to the NHL, and she was so proud to see her little brother doing what he loved. Her mom and both grandmas were crying, as expected, and Grandpa Joe wrapped her up in a hug as soon as he got the chance. 

Mat had been hanging towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to feel like he was intruding on family time, until her dad nudged him forward. “Go say hi to your girl, Mat,” Patrick said.

“Will do,” Mat said, squeezing Cass’ hand and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Sometimes it blows my mind how incredible you are,” he said. “Everyone’s already said how smart you are, and every bit of that is true. But you’re so much more than that, you know?” His thumb rubbed over her hand. “You’re beautiful, and curious, and you always keep me on my toes. You’re so passionate about your work, and you’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You’ve never met a person you didn’t want to help. And I promise I’m not biased just because I’m in love with you.” 

Cass gave a watery laugh, blinking and thanking God she had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara. “God, I love you, Mat.”

Her dad had always been the picture type, insisting on documenting every waking moment. He was the living embodiment of “pics or it didn’t happen,” for better or worse. He took a few of her with her law school friends, then Alicia snapped one with just her immediate family, then there was one with everyone. Cass also got a picture with Mat, where he was bending down to kiss her, the tassel on her mortarboard just barely brushing his nose. Then she was in one with all of the seniors on the law review, and a friend pulled her away for a few with the Latinx Student Association. By the time they finally managed to tear Patrick away from his camera, it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. 

Mat got Patrick to send him the photo of him and Cass, and was about to post it on Instagram when he hesitated. “Hey, is it cool if I post this?” Mat said, showing Cass his phone. Most people knew who she was, and he had posted pictures of her before, but they had never been this obvious, this clear, this real. 

“Go for it.”

Mat pressed post. So, so proud of my incredible girlfriend @casscshaw for graduating law school. You’re one of the smartest, most empathetic people I know, and you’re going to make an amazing lawyer. 

Cass grinned, a big, genuine smile as she was surrounded by her family, the people who meant the most to her — whether they were related or not. She looked up at Mat, who was smiling softly down at her as he reached one hand up to fix her tassel. “What’s next?”

[mychameleonsix]

BIO - CHAPTER 10

**Ken’s POV** After the concert, the boys stayed for another week in New York to spend time with me. They wanted to stay longer, but their schedule couldn’t permit it. It’s Christmas season so they had too many commitments to be able to stay. They video call me everyday though, especially Younghyun. He calls me the moment he wakes up and before he sleeps. It was hard because of the time difference but we’re making it work. Christmas and New Year have come and gone but everyday is still a struggle to me. I’m getting sicker by the second. I can feel my body aching all over, all of me, deteriorating. Everyday, I dread waking up because I really just want to sleep so I don’t feel anything. I used to really love this season, but now I don’t even feel like hearing Christmas songs on the radio. My dad also arrived last week, he’s been staying with my mom for the time being. For the first time, I actually saw them in the same room again. And they’re not fighting this time. I’ve been wishing to see them in one place for the longest time, and I’m happy that I got to see it before I died. I feel happy that despite being in this circumstance, our family was complete once again. “Why isn’t Brian calling yet?” Nick asked. “It’s still night time in Korea. And they’re probably busy, it’s fine.” I said to my sister. “Ken, about those letters. When am I supposed to give it to them?” She asked. You see, a few days ago, I decided to write Younghyun and the boys, and the people I love letters. Saying my last thoughts and goodbyes on paper. I’m too weak to actually go see everyone and bid them farewell, so it’s the second best option. “After I die. Just send them out. Or if you want, go with dad once he goes home and give it to them yourself.” I said. “Are they not coming back here anymore? I mean you’re still alive, don’t they want to spend more time with you?” “They have...lives to...live...Nick...let them.” I said in between coughing. “I’m going back to sleep okay. I love you, Nick.” I said and my sister kissed my head and tucked me in my blankets. **Brian’s POV** The boys and I are in our practice room running some records and writing songs. Our next comeback would be in three months but we’re only halfway through our finishing touches for the songs. But I’m really not in the mood to do anything, I’ve been sulking since we got back from New York. I was on my phone scrolling through my pictures when I saw the photo I took of Ken from our Nami Island date. She was smiling ever so brightly, her hair glistening under the sun, the color of the trees complementing her olive green coat against her tanned skin. She looked so beautiful and glowing. Her eyes giving away how happy she looked. She didn’t look sick at all, she just looked...happy. I went through our other pictures and I felt myself smiling, suddenly missing Kendall. All the times I spent with her was precious to me as well, giving me a leeway from all the stress I’ve been in the past few months. She made me happy, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alive with her. In the short time that I was with Ken, she pushed me to work harder, gave me a new reason to believe in myself, made me realize that life is worth living. And that’s when I realized I love Kendall. This all started because I was in a writing slump, all stressed and full of worry. I met her at the worst possible time and my judgments were obviously clouded then so I faked a relationship with her. But now that I think about it, I grew fond of Ken, I looked forward to our little dates, our movie nights, times that we spend hours talking endlessly on the phone. Holy shit, I really do love her. “Oh my God.” I said out loud. “What?” Sungjin said. “I love her.” “Who? Kendall?” Dowoon said smiling. “Yes! I might have started this whole thing for other intentions but...oh my God, I need to tell her before it’s too late. Guys, I love Kendall.” I said standing up from my seat and started pacing back and forth. “Here, I already bought you tickets. Consider it my gift to the both of you. Go get her you dummy.” Jae said and handed me a sheet of paper. When I opened it, it was a plane ticket for New York. I grinned and hugged Jae tightly. “Thanks Jae, thank you so much. I’ll see you guys soon, I’ll be back I promise.” “Don’t you dare come back here without telling her or else we’re kicking you out of the dorms. Go get your girl.” Sungjin said and patted my shoulder. “Tell Ken I said hi, hyung!” Wonpil said. “I’ll get going then.” *** That same night, I packed my bags and went straight to the airport. I flew right away being that I don’t really have the luxury to delay this. I need to see Ken, immediately. I debated whether or not I should call and tell her I’m coming. But I guessed it would be better if I surprise her instead. The entire flight, I was fidgety, wanting to just land already. I tried sleeping but I couldn’t sleep so I just stared at my watch, counting down the hours until the plane lands. When I arrived in New York it was already noon. I bought lunch and some flowers along the way and went straight to the hospital. I kept calling Nick and Ken but both of them aren’t answering. I was headed towards Ken’s room when I was pushed by two nurses aside. They were telling me to move and give way, two doctors followed in tow. My palms started to sweat immediately. What’s happening? “She’s coding!” Someone said shouting. I got closer to Ken’s room and saw that a lot of nurses and doctors were inside. I saw Nick crying under Uncle Tommy’s arm in a corner; while Aunt Gina was standing by the door her hands covering her mouth, stopping herself from crying. I walked slowly towards the door, trying to make sense of the scene happening right before my eyes. “Charge to 120.” Someone ordered. “Clear.” “She’s not responding.” “Charge again to 200.” “Clear.” “Charge again.” “Clear.” A loud beeping noise came after that, followed by a deafening silence. I can’t see anything clearly. Everything is a messy blur. I don’t exactly know what’s happening anymore but I don’t feel good. Nick’s cries got louder, Aunt Gina fell on her knees not holding back her tears this time; Uncle Tommy finally cried, still trying to keep Nick from falling down. “Time of death: 14:36” someone announced. Somehow that snapped me back to reality. I take in what the doctor just said. Time of death: 14:36. Kendall died and I’m too late. I tried to come here as fast as I could but somehow I’m still late. “NOOOOO! She can’t be dead! Are you sure she’s dead? What are you all doing there just standing? You’re doctors do something, please!” I said slightly shouting, rushing towards Ken’s bedside my tears spilling non-stop. All eyes are on me now, but I don’t care. I grabbed the doctor’s arm and begged. Begged for her to do something, to somehow bring her back to life. I can’t lose, Ken. Not like this, no. “I’m sorry sir, it’s too late.” She said. I pushed her away and turned back to face Ken. She’s lying there, lifeless. I placed my hands on her face, brushing her hair away. I can’t see her clearly anymore because of the tears in my eyes. I grabbed her hand and kissed it. I fall on my knees grabbing onto Ken’s hand. I’m alive and breathing but why do I feel like I’m the one who just died? “Eunyoung please wake up. I’m here, it’s me, your Younghyun is here. Please, Eunyoung. I’m...” I couldn’t finish my sentence without choking on my tears and words. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and Aunt Gina was standing beside me, eyes strained with her own tears. “Brian, we have to let her go.” She said in between her cries, trying to be strong. “But I just got here. No, she can’t be dead. I have things I still need to tell her. No. Please someone tell me this is a dream. Nick? Uncle Tommy?” Aunt Gina grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. I felt my body collapse against her as I cried harder. After what felt like hours, all our tears finally dried. We’re still silent, looking at each other for comfort. Ken’s body still there. Still lifeless. Uncle Tommy and Aunt Gina went out the door telling us to take our time with saying goodbye; leaving to fix some papers for Ken’s release. Nick stayed behind for a few minutes after her parents left. “Brian, I know it’s too soon. But I don’t think I’ll be able to do this if I don’t do it now. Kendall, um, she wrote you guys letters. She told me to have it mailed to you guys after a few weeks, but you’re already here so might as well. Read it with the boys though, it’s her last wish.” She said and gave me a green envelope. I flipped the envelope over and there it read “To my boys, and especially my Younghyun”. Her handwriting in cursive, slanted, perfect, and beautiful just like her. I smiled and ran my thumb over it, trying to feel her presence. I placed it inside my bag and went back to sit beside Ken. “You know, she really loved you right?” Nick said to me. We were both staring down on Ken’s lifeless body. “I know. And I love her too, but I didn’t even get to say it.” I said sighing. “I remember that day after your Nami Island date, she was so happy. She called me the moment she got home, it was 7 in the morning here Brian. She woke me up just to tell me she thinks she’s falling in love with you, even if it’s just a few weeks since you met. I think it was ridiculous though, with Ross still in the picture, but when I saw how happy she was with you. I had no right to stop her from that. She deserved all the happiness, Brian.” “I have so many things I still need to say to Ken. That’s why I flew here, my management doesn’t even know I left. I flew hoping I’d get to say how I truly felt for her, but I just got here and this is what I see. I love her, Nick. How do I live knowing I didn’t get to say that to her.” “I’m sure she knows.” “I don’t think so.” I said with a sad smile. “Come on, they need to bring her to the morgue. We’ll see her in the funeral.” *** The funeral went by smoothly. Her friends and family went to see her, some crying, some laughing all the while reminiscing the good times with Ken. Nick and I on the other hand stayed beside each other, comforting one another; basking in each other’s sorrow, sharing stories about Kendall, her more than me. 

“For most of you here today, you might know me as Ross, Ken’s childhood sweetheart, or Ross the ex who broke her heart, or you might not know me at all. But I’m standing in front of you, giving Kendall’s eulogy because she asked me to. I refused when she told me, telling her I don’t deserve to do it, but she insisted. So now I’m here, forced to face the people she loved the most, the people she truly cared about, the people that mattered to her. I won’t make this long, because I don’t need to re-tell Kendall’s story to all of you, you guys lived it with her. We lived it with her. 

But let me just tell you this one story about Kendall, the one that made me realize that she has the purest heart. Back when I was studying for the BAR exams, Kendall was busy doing apprenticeship for one of the big hotels here in NYC. She worked 12-hour shifts, sometimes more, she wakes up super early just to practice recipes over and over again, trying to impress her sous chefs and other superiors. But everyday she went to church to pray, not for herself or for anyone else, but for me. She prayed and prayed that I make it through the bar and become a lawyer one day. She didn’t miss a single day, she went religiously. She was never vocal about her religion, but she was proud of the relationship she had with her God. She didn’t need to do it, but she wanted to because she felt like it was the only thing she can do to help me. 

I only knew about this story after we broke up. And that’s when I realized that I was stupid enough to let a perfect girl like her slip through my fingers. She was an angel, and she deserved the world. But I wasn’t able to give that to her. 

I have a lot of things I wanna say to Ken, things I want to apologize for, to thank her for. But now that she’s not with us anymore, I can’t. So now here’s what I want everyone to do, get a piece of paper write down things you want to tell her, and drop it later along with her coffin when we bury her. I’m giving you the chance to speak to her for the last time, a chance that I wasn’t given. 

Ken, I know you’re up there looking down on us. I know that wherever you are, you’re happy, because you can finally be with your God. You always told me that He was your rock, your saving grace, your salvation; and I always admired that side of you. But to us, the mere people who you left behind, you’ll always be an inspiration. You fought hard despite that very short battle you had with your cancer. You died not because you’re body was weak, but because you’re strong enough to face Him up there. You’re safe now, Ken. Rest well.”

After the eulogy Ross gave, we buried her in a nearby cemetery beside the church that she goes to. Aunt Gina saying that Ken requested she’s to be buried there. The day after her funeral, I went back home a crying mess, all heartbroken, and restless. *** It’s day 12 since Ken died, and five days since I came back to Korea. I came home sulking, eyes bloodshot either from crying or from lack of sleep. The boys all gave me a hug the moment I stepped in our apartment, worry and tears filling their eyes. The boys have been patient with me, cautious not to talk about anything Kendall related. But it was hard, even for me; when the past few months, my entire world revolved around her. “So Ken wrote us letters, by the way. I totally forgot about it.” I said and got the envelope from my bag. I opened the envelope and found 3 sheets. One was addressed to me, and the remaining two for the boys. I handed their letter to Jae and opened mine. A small piece of paper fell. YOUNGHYUN! Let Jae read the letters out loud, I don’t think you’ll be strong enough to read through this. Haha, just kidding. But seriously, let Jae read it. xx Eunyoung “Jae, Ken wants you to read the letters out loud. Here.” I said handing him both the note and my part of the letter. Jae nodded and he read the letters out loud. Younghyun, By the time you’re reading this, I won’t be there with you anymore. I tried saying this in person, but I couldn’t get the courage to tell you. I would’ve cried and said nothing if I did. Younghyun, you were the best thing that happened to me since I found out about my cancer. If it weren’t for you and the boys, I would’ve given up a long time ago. I fought because of you. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about it sooner; you had to find out through Jae, that was really unfair of me, I know. But I just thought that if you think I was just back in New York and chose to shut you guys out of my life, then everything would be better for you. I thought that forgetting and hating me, than seeing me lying in a hospital bed, would be a good idea. Also, I know it was fake, Younghyun. But my love for you isn’t. Don’t ask how I know, I just found out accidentally. And even though I know it’s fake, I longed for you every single day. I hated myself for this, but all I wanted was to hear your voice everyday, and sing me to sleep, and tell me it’s going to be fine. It hurt me so much that I love you with all of me when all you can offer was a facade, a face of you I’m not even sure was real. I kept it in because I was too selfish to let you go. But it’s okay, it was my choice. Don’t be too hard on yourself, I forgive you. So forgive yourself too. Don’t cry for me when I’m gone, because I’ll always be there to watch over you. Cry because of what more we could’ve been. The endless possibilities of us would only remain a what if now. But know that I loved you until the very end. To my boys, I’m so thankful I found you guys. You made me happy until the very last day. Your music, though I found out about it a bit late, has saved me. Please continue making songs that can change lives. I’m so proud of you. I love you guys so much, you’ll always have a special place in my heart. Jae, you stood by me in the short amount of time that I knew you. You scolded me when I was being unreasonable with my decisions; and although I didn’t exactly listen to you, I appreciate your nagging. Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. I wish I knew you sooner, I feel like we could’ve been best friends. Feel free to drop by my restaurant whenever you’re in New York. My mom and Nick will welcome you with open arms, and feed you your lechon. Wonpil, my buddy! Hey you, don’t cry okay? I’ll be watching over you guys anyway, don’t do anything stupid even if I’m gone. I’ve emailed to you my adobo recipe and an instructional video on how to do it properly. Please make it for yourselves when you miss me, and for Younghyun when he’s having a hard time. Also, stop pestering Sungjin about being a bear. Sungjin, my man! You and I never really bonded that much but you’re my bias. Shh, don’t tell YoungK. For the past months that we’ve known each other, you always cared for me even if you’re not showy about it. Please continue taking care of the boys, you’re doing a great job being their leader. But always remember that it’s okay to be tired and ask for help. It’s okay to be vulnerable at times too. Dowoon! Aigooo my baby boy! My sweet little drum, never stop smiling. I see your smile and I already feel happy. You radiate joy and happiness all the time and I love that about you. Protect your hyungs well, and be there for each other always. PS. Y’all better win more awards soon, you guys deserve it. If not, I’ll be coming back down as a ghost and haunt those award shows to give you what you deserve. xx Eunyoung Jae folded the letters and handed them back to me. We were all dumbfounded and silent. Wonpil was crying, Sungjin trying to comfort him, Jae was staring into space, and Dowoon was just looking down at his hands. “Wait. She knows? Ken knew everything was fake?” I said breaking the silence. “Yup.” Jae said. “And you know it too?” I asked. “She told me she heard you and our manager talking about your writing slump, and that you’re dating some girl to get inspiration. She didn’t really elaborate on how she found out. But that night you went to New York to see her, she texted me. She told me to stop you from telling her the truth. Thus the text I sent you.” “So she knew all along? And she stayed?” “She really loves you Brian.” Jae sighed. “I’m so stupid.” “You’re only realizing that now?” Wonpil said. “I love Eunyoung, I know that now. But it’s too late. I guess this is my karma for doing that to her.” “No shit.” Jae said. It went silent after that, not knowing what to say after everything that just happened. Jae got his guitar and started strumming, it being the only sound you can hear among us. This is the same melody that we’ve been working on for the past couple of days but my brain isn’t cooperating until now. 

Like a single ray of light Between the clouds That looks so faint I need your touch That will make me smile

You and me I know the bright days have already passed But I still want you too bad For me to give up

Before We used to stand next to each other And walk together

All of those beautiful times Are still so clear

So goodbye Even if we don’t want this break up The moment One person turns around The end is already decided

You and me We can’t turn things around now So I’m just staying here Because I still want you

When I stopped singing, the boys were just looking at me with sad eyes. Ken’s gone, I have to accept that. But her presence and memory will always stay with me, forever. As for me, well, I think I’ll be stuck here trying to move on. Because I still want her. 

[thezeekrecord]

GAGEGN ch21

[index/summary]

REPORT: Regarding D.Pepper's exploration of reality

Tommy was a morning person. Sometimes he’d work late into the night, but right as the sun began to rise, he’d be up—no hope of sleeping in to make up for lost time. Darnold, on the other hand, was a bit of a late riser; Tommy noticed without any particular reason to be up early, he’d quickly devolve into a late night sleep schedule. Sometimes, when Tommy was having trouble getting to sleep, he’d hear Darnold playing video games on voice chat or downstairs in the kitchen. It wasn’t like it kept him up; he was used to sleeping through other people’s noise, and it was reassuring to hear Darnold peacefully doing his own thing. He was a good roommate and a good friend. Hearing the evidence of someone he trusted being around, just in case he was needed, was usually a good way to fall asleep.

Tommy had been up for a couple hours already when he heard the stairs creaking. He looked up from the Beyblade set he was currently focused on set out at the table, watching Darnold yawn as he joined Tommy in the kitchen.

“Morning.” Darnold mumbled.

Tommy smiled at Darnold, politely not commenting on the fact that it was past noon as Sunkist was quick to greet him. Darnold leaned down to kiss her head sleepily. “Hi, baby.” He murmured, scratching the sides of her head before moving on towards the coffee machine. Tommy loved seeing him first thing after he woke up—he was always so cute when he was sleepy.

“I just made more coffee.” He pointed out.

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

Darnold poured himself some coffee and sat down, picking up the book he always left at the table; he made a habit of having something set out at the table to read while he was drinking coffee or eating alone. They’d usually end up sitting like this around this time of day, quietly focusing on their own activities in each others’ presence. Tommy liked that quite a bit—he’d usually found growing up if he didn’t want to be alone, he had to either find someone sharing his very particular current interest, or sacrifice his own interest entirely to get involved in someone else’s. Or, as he usually ended up doing, just accepting the loneliness. This was nice, though; he loved being able to just sit with Darnold in almost total silence without judgment while they got to focus on their own things, save for the times Darnold would rant about how dumb a book he was reading was. Tommy enjoyed that a lot, too.

This time, though, Darnold set his book aside with a deep sigh after a few minutes, dragging his palms down his face. “I’m really fucking bored, Tommy.”

“...Right now, or in general?” Tommy asked.

“In general.” Darnold answered, tapping his fingers against his mug. “I didn’t expect being set for life and never having to work would drive me nuts.”

Tommy nodded knowingly. “Yeah. Me too, honestly.”

As if on cue, Tommy jumped in surprise when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Tommy fished it out, looking at the caller ID. Tommy held up a finger to Darnold and flipped his phone open. “Hi, Dr. Coomer.”

“Hello, Tommy!” Dr. Coomer greeted. “Are you with Darnold?”

“Oh, yeah. Umm, should I put you on speaker?”

“Yes, please.”

Tommy hit the speaker button and set his phone down between himself and Darnold. “Okay, you’re on speaker.” Tommy announced.

“Wonderful! Bubby and I have been planning a trip, and we thought we’d extend an invitation to everyone.” Dr. Coomer explained. “We’re going to the beach in California!”

“Ooh, California. That’s a long drive.” Darnold commented.

“Oh, no, we were planning on flying.”

Darnold immediately tensed.

“Bubby’s never been to the beach, so I thought it might be a fun first trip.” Dr. Coomer went on. “Would you like to join us? We’re planning on inviting Gordon, Joshua, and Benry as well.”

“I’d love to go.” Tommy replied. “It’s not like I, uhh—like I have anything else to do.”

“Excellent! Perhaps you two should come over in the next...say, half an hour? So we can buy all our tickets together.”

“Okay. See you in a few, then.” Tommy said, picking up his phone.

“Okay! I love you both!”

Tommy smiled. “I love you too, Dr. Coomer.”

Tommy flipped his phone shut, setting it aside and turning to Darnold.

“I, uhhh...might not go.” Darnold said, anxiously picking at the corner of his book. “The idea of flying kinda freaks me out.”

“Oh.” Tommy replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. “Well...that’s okay, if—if you don’t wanna go. But maybe, ummm...you and me could just drive there instead?”

Darnold gave Tommy a surprised look. “Oh, well, I mean—I don’t wanna make you suffer through such a long drive just for me.”

“I don’t mind! I’ve umm—I’ve never gotten to go on a big road trip or anything.”

“Really? Me neither.” Darnold said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I almost did. To Colorado, actually. It, uhhh...didn’t really pan out, though.”

“Well, we could—we could experience it together.” Tommy suggested with a smile.

Darnold’s face flushed as he looked away. “Y-yeah. That sounds cool.”

Oh, he was so adorable, Tommy couldn’t help but think as he smiled a little wider. It was too bad, really—Darnold probably didn’t feel the same way. He was just shy; that was probably why he’d get all blushy whenever Tommy did or said anything friendly.

Tommy and Darnold quickly got ready to head over to Dr. Coomer and Bubby’s house for trip planning, finding Benry was already there—probably staying with them for the time being, if Tommy had to guess. He hadn’t seen him ever since he’d kicked him out, he remembered anxiously. He was sat at the table with Dr. Coomer and Bubby, fully immersed in his Gameboy as Bubby scribbled in a notepad.

“Hi.” Tommy greeted as he took a seat at the table.

Benry finally looked up at Tommy. “Sup.” He replied casually, looking back down at his game.

“What happened to your coffee table?” Darnold asked, nodding into the living room at the coffee table, which was split in half down the middle.

“Oh, Bubby and I got a little too excited about a match.” Dr. Coomer replied with a grin. “He tossed me into the table and it broke.”

“You could probably replace it with something sturdier.” Darnold said with an amused laugh.

“But what’s the point of throwing him at the coffee table if it doesn’t break?” Bubby questioned.

Darnold didn’t seem to know how to reply to that as Benry and Tommy snickered. “Uhh, we were thinking of driving there instead.” Darnold said instead. “So I guess we’d just head out, like, a day before you guys and meet you there?”

“Oh, are you nervous about flying?” Dr. Coomer asked as he eased back down into his chair.

“Well—the flying, and also TSA, and also getting there on time, and...y’know, just generally every aspect of it.”

“See? I’m not the only one!” Bubby pointed out to Dr. Coomer.

Just as Tommy and Darnold were settling down, there was another knock at the door. Dr. Coomer stood to answer it again, predictably revealing Gordon and Joshua.

“Howdy.” Gordon greeted as they headed into the kitchen. “How’s it going, everybody?”

Benry finally set down his Gameboy, glancing between Gordon and Joshua. Tommy watched closely, curious how this would play out.

Gordon also pointedly looked between Benry and Joshua, brushing his hair back awkwardly before letting out a tense breath and speaking. “You wanna meet Benry, Josh?” He asked gently.

Benry held out his hand for a handshake. Joshua looked up at Gordon for confirmation before approaching, placing his tiny hand in Benry’s.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Benry greeted formally. “You’re the tiniest little dude I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m two.” Joshua replied.

Benry’s face split into a wide grin. “Hi, two, I’m Benry.”

Joshua made a grouchy expression as Gordon burst out laughing. Tommy smiled a little. His own unresolved issues with Benry aside, it was nice to see them getting along for once. Soon, Gordon and Joshua sat down as well, Gordon setting up his laptop.

“Here, I can buy everyone’s tickets online so we don’t have to go through that whole phone call bullshit.” Gordon offered.

“Uhh—Tommy and I are driving.” Darnold informed him.

“Yeah, I think driving is a much better option.” Bubby agreed.

Gordon frowned, typing away at his computer for a second. “...You sure? It’s gonna be about 15 hours of driving.”

“What?!” Bubby exclaimed. “15 hours? How fucking big is this stupid continent?”

“Oh, man, trust me. 15 hours is nothing.” Gordon said dismissively. “Try driving from Seattle to here in a big old moving truck. That’s like, what, 24 full hours?”

“...Did you live in Seattle before?” Tommy asked curiously.

Gordon paused, staring out at open space for a moment. “...Huh. Yeah, I guess I did...?”

“Isn’t there anything faster that doesn’t involve a plane?” Bubby complained.

“Unfortunately, it’s either that or drive.” Dr. Coomer answered mournfully.

“...Fine. I guess I can try flying.” Bubby huffed, crossing his arms uncomfortably.

“Okay. So that’s...all of us, except Tommy and Darnold?” Gordon asked. “Give me your IDs so I can make sure I’m spelling everything right.”

Dr. Coomer and Bubby reached into their pockets, pulling out their wallets. Gordon turned pointedly to Benry, who hadn’t made a move to take anything out.

“You got an ID?” Gordon asked him.

“No, you fuckin’—you destroyed my passport, bro.” Benry replied, picking his Gameboy back up.

Gordon barked out a loud laugh. “Holy shit, now you’re the one without a passport?! Are you serious?”

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can get another one.” Benry grumbled.

“You go to the passport office, man! We all went pretty much as soon as we got here from the game!”

Benry groaned for a solid 10 seconds straight as Gordon laughed at him.

“Actually, I—he might still be legally dead.” Tommy commented thoughtfully. “I’m not sure he can get another passport without—without, uhhh, a whole lot of trouble.”

“That’s a very good point.” Dr. Coomer muttered, putting his hand to his chin. “Perhaps Benry could join Darnold and Tommy.”

“Y’know, if so many of us are driving and Bubby’s freaked out by flying, why don’t we all drive?” Gordon suggested. “I’d feel bad leaving all that driving to Tommy and Darnold. If we rent a big car, we could share the driving responsibilities. Between like, you two and me and Dr. Coomer, that’d be...what, only three and a half-ish hours of driving per person?”

“That’s a good point.” Dr. Coomer nodded. “What do you think, Bubby?”

“Listen, you all clearly know better than I do on this.” Bubby huffed irritably. “Whatever we end up doing, I’ll survive.”

****

Darnold hadn’t had one of his strange anxiety episodes in a long time. He’d been thinking about it, now that he had the time and space to do so—or, rather, he had no excuse not to, anymore.

He’d wondered about the correlation between the void he saw in the game and his episodes. They were both, very broadly speaking, experiences that felt like he’d stepped out of what was considered “real”. Given the fact that he stopped having episodes when he started working at Black Mesa, and then Black Mesa turned out to be the setting for a video game, it was...

An interesting correlation, to say the least.

He hadn’t had an episode ever since leaving Black Mesa, too, but how much exploration had he actually done? He sort of just fell back into his old habits, sticking to a singular routine, anything that he’d already deemed to be safe. He found one nice restaurant he liked to go to and pretty much just stuck to that, avoiding exploring too much if he could help it. He always took the same route to the grocery store, even if there was traffic, and just turned around and went home if there was a road block. He hadn’t even thought about it; this had been his entire life, avoiding anything he’d deemed to be “unsafe” for him by purely sticking to his safe spots, so it came much too natural to him now that he was back in what could be considered a normal life.

His opportunity to explore his limits was coming up, what with the road trip. He pictured having an episode the minute they left the city, though, just like all those years ago, and having to demand everyone drop everything to take him home. That was embarrassing enough the first time around; he wasn’t about to let that happen again with new friends.

Darnold was currently lying awake in bed, contemplating this as he tried desperately to fix his sleep schedule before the trip. Making up his mind, though, he rolled out of bed and crept down the stairs, careful not to wake Tommy as he took only his cell phone, wallet, and keys out to his car.

Darnold stuck in one of his CDs once he was in the car—a classic, Abba’s Mamma Mia album—and started driving. He deliberately took the opposite turn once he hit the fork in the road he’d usually take to the grocery store, bracing himself for an episode. When it didn’t hit, he let out a deep, relieved breath, continuing down the road without trouble.

He kept expecting it to hit. He’d imagine some sort of threshold up ahead, where everything would stop existing if he crossed over it—just like a video game, he thought with a bitter laugh—but no matter what unfamiliar road he drove over, no matter how far from home, Darnold remained firmly rooted in reality.

Darnold kept driving. He left the city, crossed through the city next to it, and kept on going. He decided to drive a little more deliberately now, following road signs until he hit the interstate. He could see the sun beginning to peek over the horizon as he drove down the long stretch of road, nothing around him but wide open space and the occasional car zipping past on the other side. He’d hit so many false alarms by this point, he found it easy to just sit back a little bit, peacefully watching the sun rise and singing along quietly to Abba. It sort of reminded him of when he’d drive to the closest store for errands while he worked at Black Mesa—it was so far out of the way, he’d end up on long stretches of road like this before he finally reached the city.

It was weird to think back on that, he mused. If the game wasn’t real, what did that mean about the world they were in now?

It was sort of funny, actually, now that he thought back on it. What with his episodes and the way he ended up limiting himself to particular routes and a strict routine, keeping himself to specific interests and hobbies, he was sort of acting like an NPC all along, even outside of the game. Darnold laughed a little to himself, trailing off as he realized he didn’t actually find it very funny at all.

Darnold noticed the sign in the distance, the one he’d been waiting to see, reading “Welcome to Colorado!” Darnold braced himself, sat up in his seat, took a deep breath, turned up his music and put both hands on the wheel. He’d never been outside New Mexico—what if he wasn’t supposed to leave? He thought as fear began to rise up in his stomach.

Well, he was about to find out.

Darnold held his breath as he approached the sign, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he counted down in his head. Three, two, one...

Darnold flew past the sign without trouble, nothing disappearing around him. The road still stretched out ahead of him, and he could still hear Abba. He let out a deep, relieved breath, pulling over and resting his forehead against the steering wheel. Everything was normal. More normal than it had ever been in his life.

That was sort of terrifying, right? What was stopping him from doing anything alarmingly stupid, now, if he had total control?

After a few minutes, Darnold pulled back onto the road, driving deeper into Colorado. Why shouldn’t he? He was free to do whatever he wanted, right? He wasn’t bound by the laws of being an NPC. He was just a guy, now. And anyone who was just a guy could drive through Colorado if they wanted to. That was his basic right as a regular person with free will.

Darnold drove for a while, stopping in a town with a nice little coffee shop. He felt a little bad about going in in his pajamas, but not bad enough to stop him; he sat there at one of the tables, sipping a really nice latte contemplatively. The place had some nice decorations. Somehow, it was picturesque of what he’d expected out of this state—they weren’t in the mountains just yet, but it was built and decorated like a little lodge by some sort of ski resort. Even now, towards the end of summer, he felt like he should be dressed up in his warmest clothes to brave the snow just outside.

Darnold jumped in surprise at the sensation of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open, finding several text messages from Tommy coming in one by one. TOMMY!!☆♥☆: hey darnold where r u? TOMMY!!☆♥☆: i see ur cars gone i thought maybe u went to the store but its been a while TOMMY!!☆♥☆: u doing ok? DARNOLD: hey tommy! im fine DARNOLD: im just out for a drive TOMMY!!☆♥☆: oh ok TOMMY!!☆♥☆: r u driving right now? dont text and drive thats not safe :( DARNOLD: lol no im stopped for coffee rn DARNOLD: ill be back home in a little while TOMMY!!☆♥☆: ok TOMMY!!☆♥☆: have fun on ur drive TOMMY!!☆♥☆: b safe DARNOLD: thanks! i will

Darnold pocketed his phone and tipped his mug up to chug the rest of his coffee. Once he was finished, he hit the road again, driving further up into Colorado. He wasn’t sure at this point when he’d even make it back home; it was nice, though, not even having a plan. Just going for the sake of it, enjoying his music and taking in the sights. This was going to be a lot of fun with Tommy and the rest of the Science Team, Darnold thought as he pulled over at one of those scenic rest stops.

Darnold sat on the hood of his car, staring out at the mountains in front of him. He tried to take a picture, but the camera on his phone really didn’t do it justice—but maybe the real beauty of it was just that he could sit there and take it in, recognizing that he was right there in front of it, right then. He took in a deep breath of fresh air. The road trip with everyone else would be nice, but doing this on his own was so refreshing; he could just take his time, letting himself enjoy it until he felt like he was done, no worries about wasting anyone else’s time.

Besides, how much was he even wanted, anyway? Darnold couldn’t help but wonder. This was a thought process he tried very hard not to entertain, but it just kept popping up; maybe they’d have more fun without him, and it was just impolite not to invite him. Darnold let out a quiet sigh, fiddling with the drawstrings on his pajama pants. He wondered how much he would even be missed, if he just backed out at the last minute, staying home while everyone went and had fun at the beach.

Darnold looked down as he felt his phone rumbling in his pocket again—a phone call this time. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, surprised he was getting a signal at all, and glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Hiya, Gordon.” Darnold greeted.

“Howdy, Darnold.”

“Hey, why do you say ‘howdy’?” Darnold asked impulsively. “You said you were from Seattle. That doesn’t seem like a Washington thing.”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Gordon replied dismissively. “I guess you’re out right now, but do you wanna come to dinner at my house tonight? I invited everyone else, too.”

“Oh, uhhh, I don’t know if I’ll be back in a reasonable time, but I’ll see if I can make it.” Darnold said, glancing up at the sky. It was early afternoon by now—it’d probably be pretty late by the time he got back.

“Damn, Tommy said you were out for a drive, how far did you go?” Gordon questioned.

“I’m in Colorado right now.”

“What? Why?”

“Iunno.”

“Well—I wanted to double check if you had any food allergies.” Gordon went on. “Tommy said he didn’t think you had any, but I wanna be sure.”

“Oh, I can’t have shellfish.” Darnold told him.

“Oh, fuck.” Gordon cussed loudly. “I was making shrimp scampi.”

“Were you really?”

Gordon snorted on the other end. “No, I’m kidding. I’m making lasagna.”

“Dr. Freeman, I assume you probably don’t have any food restrictions, if you think I haven’t heard jokes like that more times than I could even count.” Darnold said flatly.

“Oh, I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“What?” Gordon laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Darnold laughed too. “I don’t know. Uhhh, actually—can I ask you something completely unrelated?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Darnold paused, looking back up at the sky. “Do you think I would be different if I had gone with you during the game?”

Gordon didn’t reply for a bit. “What, like...do you think that would’ve changed you? Yeah, probably, it was...pretty traumatic.”

Darnold frowned. “No, that’s not what I mean. You’re probably right about that, though. It’s more like...I don’t know. I feel like I was just the most regular, run-of-the-mill NPC you could’ve possibly bumped into that was still like, self-aware. If I had been intended to be someone who went with you, I probably would’ve been pretty different, right?”

“...Uhhh...how so?”

“Like...y’know. Tommy’s the son of an alien and has powers. Dr. Coomer has all those helpful cybernetic enhancements. Bubby’s a super powerful tube-grown guy. Benry’s...uhhh...I actually have no idea what Benry is. But you know, that sort of thing. That’s all, like, kickass backstory stuff that had significance in the game. It added to the experience of the story, right? So like, I wasn’t really anybody special, just because I wasn’t...needed, beyond giving you a new arm.”

Gordon was silent on the other end, long enough for Darnold to wonder if his call had been dropped. “I don’t know, man. Kinda hard to say. But what’s it matter?” He finally asked. “I mean—I don’t want to sound dismissive if this is something big that’s been on your mind for a while, it’s just like...we’re out of the game. You don’t have to base your significance on what the game arbitrarily decided you were supposed to be.”

“Yeah, I mean...that makes sense.” Darnold muttered. “I just sorta wish I’d been, like, more important. Y’know?”

“You are important, Darnold.”

Darnold sat there in surprise for a moment. All he could get out was a dumbfounded, “huh?”

Gordon snickered a little bit on the end. “I care about you, dude. We all do. Just because you weren’t there for the big fight doesn’t mean you don’t matter to us.”

“Oh. I—I care about you guys, too.” Darnold replied, awkwardly but fully earnest. “Thanks, Gordon.”

“Plus, like, y’know...the things everyone else went through were pretty fucked up.” Gordon went on. “I wouldn’t want you to have had to go through something traumatic just to prove your importance to the group. You’re not just a character, anymore, so your worth isn’t tied to any sort of...character arc or a backstory for why you have, like, telekinesis or whatever, you know? You can just exist, now.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.” Darnold said, looking down at his free hand and flexing his fingers thoughtfully. “Thanks, Gordon. Really. Sorry to like, drop that all on you.”

“Nah, that’s fine! Don’t worry about it.”

“I’d uhh, better start driving now if I wanna make it back at a reasonable time.” Darnold said, hopping off the hood of his car. “If you guys start getting too hungry, don’t worry about waiting for me.”

“Alright, I mean, we’ll survive if we have to wait a little while. If it’s like, 8 and you’re still gone, though, I’ll just save some for you.”

“Thanks! I’ll see you when I get back.”

Darnold said goodbye to Gordon and flipped his phone shut before climbing back into his car and turning around. He hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been before the call with Gordon; all that was gone, now, as he hummed and carefully made his way down the winding mountain roads.

[previous | next]

[themiddlelayer]

Okay, Universe...I hear you!

When I was in the process of leaving Tampa people would ask me how I was doing. My answer was that I was getting things done but my meltdown was scheduled for February 15th so I’d have enough discounted chocolate to get me through it. I was mostly joking, but apparently Universe was listening attentively and granted my wish.  

Dinner with Puppy on Thursday went well, bad food and crappy service aside. My work day had been productive and I’d initially planned on meeting Subby Soldier for coffee and a movie Friday night but he ended up with overnight duty. I was bummed but decided that doing Galentine's Day with Cookie was a great plan. 

I was craving my mac and cheese... lots of real cheese, milk, all the things that are worth the pain on occasion. My mood was generally okay but I still knew I needed a little extra comfort. I cooked dinner at her house and we got caught up on Grey’s Anatomy with a box of chocolates between us. And then things started to unravel. 

First it was Tampa sending me a “Happy Valentine’s Day” text. That pissed me off to no end. Like, how fucking dare he!?! What did he think I would do given that I haven’t responded to ANY of the messages he’s sent me? Did he think I’d be so weak and sad that I’d finally reply and open that door again? Fuck that! 

And then Byron called me. I love that man with all of my heart and wish I was closer so I could be more of a support. His daughter’s murderer was convicted of 2nd degree murder and a stack of lesser offenses which was good news overall. I think he expected the verdict to make him feel better, but I’m afraid that it’s just taken away the thing he was focusing his anger. I worry about him all the time. 

The thing that broke the floodgates during our call was him talking about how amazing I am... he tells me that I’m the smartest person he’s ever known and how much he loves me. He said that he knows a lot of his issues in life happened because of his own choices...“It’s not that I didn’t want to grow up I just didn’t know how.” Ouch! 

He then said that it’s super shitty because I’ve had to keep rebuilding my life because of other people’s choices and behavior. That’s one of those things that’s almost harder to hear. I honestly thought that I was always the good guy in my own story because I couldn’t see what I was doing wrong. That’s human nature. We need to believe we are doing things right even if we aren’t. Having someone outside of it all telling me that I wasn’t wrong except for loving the wrong men and giving too much of myself away... fuck...  It really is harder to hear that I am worthy, I am loved, I am fucking amazing and that it’s truly their loss. Just ouch. 

Saturday morning I woke up around 6am in a lot of pain, physical and emotional. After crying for a little while, I dozed off again and slept until well past 10am. Even then, there was more crying and lounging in bed until almost noon while I messaged Puppy and chatted a bit with Subby Soldier. 

I made plans to pull myself out of bed and meet Subby Soldier at a local park then go to a movie. It was a slow morning and he said he was helping a friend with his computer but he’d keep me posted on timing. I was dressed and ready to go when he said he had gotten in the shower. And that’s when the bubble burst. Subby Soldier had told me that he and his wife were in an open relationship... that she would be so excited to hear about his stories as that’s what their thing was... Nope! 

I was the one to do the blocking... And it wasn’t about him by any means. I was genuinely just looking for a band aid... for temporary relief while I’m putting myself back together. But I felt really stupid. I pulled my boots off and cried away all of my makeup. 

Byron called me in the midst of a crying jag which helped me simmer down a bit. He was just checking in on me again, but he opened with asking if I’d heard about the trial. When he called on Friday night he sounded... tired... and I do worry that he isn’t maintaining his sobriety after all. I wouldn’t blame or judge him in the least if that was the case, I just want him healthy and safe. 

It was also in the throes of it all that a communication breakdown happened between Juno and Puppy about him coming down today. One of the things I’d been thinking about when I woke up was that I wasn’t sure if I was ready to have Puppy stay overnight. Sex is one thing, sleeping together is a whole other level of intimacy. 

Juno had asked Puppy to talk about things, not because she isn’t comfortable with me but because she’s owning her own feelings and growing pains around practicing polyamory after their history of monogamy...I seriously adore her! 

I expressed MY feelings to Puppy and he assumed that Juno had said something to me that prompted it. He lashed out to her and she called me crying. 

I reassured her the best I could that I was not going to allow Puppy to behave like that and that if he didn’t get it together and take proper care of her emotional needs that he would lose me quick. I’m not about to cause any more pain or stress for her. As much as I adore Puppy and am looking forward to seeing his D-type side it’s not worth it to me if everything isn’t fully above board and healthy everywhere. I ‘laid the law down’ with Puppy I got a short reply, then nothing for several hours until he messaged later with an apology. 

I pulled myself together eventually, had a bite of sativa fudge and made myself some air-fried buffalo tofu. From there I pulled out a Frida puzzle and started sorting it. 

My phone rang a little later and it was Spartan Man from Texas. He’s been on facebook a ton lately and I’d just been thinking about how much I missed having the kind of relationship he and I had. We were on and off for about 6 years. When we were free we had amazing sex, made videos together and were generally fuck buddies with emphasis on buddies. 

When we were involved with others and doing the monogamy thing we still enjoyed hanging out, watching documentaries and having long talks about the nature of life, humanity, and all things deep and esoteric. He did kinda fall off the deep end awhile back with his affinity for Alex Jones and all things 2 steps too far into homeopathic land, but over-all he’s a good guy and we always had drama-free fun together. 

We talked about the good times and the ‘blue screen moments’ as he called the really good times, especially the one when I came over to trip sit while he and his roommate were shrooming. We are both single but I know that actually getting romantically involved with him would be out of the question, even if we were in the same zip code. However, I wouldn’t rule out a weekend together at some point. 

After we hung up I realized that my fudge had kicked in and I was a little high. I sent him a text apologizing if I’d been extra chatty and telling him why. More flirty texts were exchanged before I melted into the couch for more Letterkenny until I was ready for bed. 

Overall Saturday was exhausting so I didn’t feel bad crawling back into bed less than 12 hours from when I’d crawled out. I slept this morning until 9am and have been chatting with Juno all morning. 

She and Puppy seem to be doing a little better this morning and she sent me a pic of them curled up in bed with their new little fur baby. It made me smile lots. 

Ultimately, I get it that the Universe is just keeping me out of trouble. I’m trying not to be resentful of the fact that I’m clearly not allowed a band aid and that I have to do all of this the hard way... again... but in the end I know it’s just another round of serious growing pains. 

I’ve got my tattoo consult in a few hours. I’ve decided on a phoenix to cover the bad ink on my shoulder that I got 25 years ago. The artist won’t be available to do the work until Sept/Oct but but her work is worth waiting for. That, and depending on how many sessions it will take I may get it done on or near my birthday. 

I’m on my do-over 40 and skipping to 42 this fall because, as we all know, 42 is the meaning of life! 

Off to start the day... or should I say afternoon. We’ll see how things go with Puppy and how I’m feeling tomorrow. I’m hoping that things will go well and I’ll have a big smile on my face soon enough... but I know that whatever happens it really is for the best. 

I hear you, Universe! I really do! 

[warrumabi]

After 1827th day

I started to having crush on this certain person roughly 5 years ago i don’t remember the exact day, but i remember it was Oct 2012 it was at least 1827 days ago i even broke up with my high school lover and never been in relationship ever since 

i was dealing with anxieties, depressions, suicidal tendencies and ton of tears i was and still in circumstances where i can’t say what i feel to them may be i’m just afraid of rejection, not only from them, but from people

every years i said to my self “this is the last time, this is the last year” but here i am still standing in the same spot after five fucking years

these past years, i managed to get closer to them, and i think now may be i am one of their best friends being best friends with a person i like for five years makes me realize how precious they are and how i am not deserved for this from this day i’ll mark everyday about me and this certain person this is supposed to be a story of how i moved on and how i survived

                                           OCTOBER 2017 Oct 29th, 2017 1827th day - you finally reply to my chat from 4 days ago, saying “sorry”, “what’s wrong” and “is everything’s ok?”, i replied “just saying hi”...we end up chat a bit and you said i should come to your place because the beaches were superb. i said “no thanks, i don’t like beach anyway” which is a lie that i hope you notice. Suddenly you mention a movie that i’d probably like, i watched it asap and yes, that movie was superb because i always like plot twist. i send back some recommended movies to you, hope you watch those, especially the first one.

Oct 30th, 2017 1828th day - we chat a bit, continuing what we talked about yesterday. You recommended me some others movies and said i should watch those. i did add those to my “to watch list”. that’s all. Oct 31st, 2017 1829th day - nothing happened today.

                                            NOVEMBER 2017

Nov 1st, 2017 1830th day - nothing happened today either. haven’t watch the rest of your movie list, i was so busy and tired. i saw your friend’s post about video calling you. ah also, recently i thought about marriage, idk why tho. Nov 2nd, 2017 1831st day - no contact today either. got a news that you’ll be back this saturday and i got a mixed feelings. i registered us to this event on 7th for free dinner and stuff. Nov 3rd, 2017 1832nd day - this morning you chat me asking for help to pay your bill again cause you were still out town. you asked about the event on 7th but i replied shortly. then you also asked whether i had watch the movies you recommended, i hadn’t and planned to watch them this weekend and asking you back about my movies recommendation that i gave you, you said you did watch some...little did i knew maybe those movies doesn’t suit your taste. you asked about the weather, and complain that it’s rain a lot there. I replied on the noon cause work, and i attached your bill that i paid. you read later and never replied. i couldn’t think straight the whole day, knowing that you’ll come back tomorrow (you still hadn’t tell me that you’ll be back this saturday tho) . i’m calling your name before sleep tonight, kinda longer than usual. Nov 4th, 2017 1833rd day - you still hadn’t reply. c’mon at least say thanks. you didn’t tell me that you back today. i waited for your or your friend post update, but it’s zero. i end up watching one of your recommended movies...it was good, i wonder how you reacted in those kiss scenes tho. Nov 5th, 2017 1834th day - finally you replied this morning, damn dude what’s taking you so fucking long?! this is why i hate chatting with you. still, now we are in the same city, breathing the same air again. i’m calling you again this morning. we probably meet tomorrow (i really hope so). Nov 6th, 2017 1835th day - still no news from you. somehow i heard people mention your name a lot today. i wonder where they got news from... Nov 7th, 2017 1836th day - today is the event day. i was really looking forward for today. i arrived at college on 7 flat in the morning. eat breakfast alone near it. day past, and it’s start raining hard at noon. i had to pick my lil sis first before went to that event. arrived at home soaking wet, checked my phone just to find that YOU SAID YOU COULDN’T COME because you still at out of town, the worst about it was you said it FUCKING AN HOUR BEFORE IT START. i was furious. i was really into coming to this event. even my sis knew i really wanna went. and you know i couldn’t go alone. WHY YOU ONLY READ MY CHAT A FUCKING HOUR BEFORE THE EVENT?. i was crying hard until half an hour because i was furious but i can’t say a word. somehow i fell asleep and woke up at 10 pm. i was too tired and too sad today. way to go bud, you never fail to disappoint me. Nov 8th, 2017 1837th day - i ended up staying awake the rest of the night. having a nice day huh? swinging by a sea shore while you just ruining my day yesterday? ...jeez, this is it. i'm being hateful again, i overreact again. *sigh* . didn’t you ever feel guilty at all? didn’t you ever considering my feeling? Nov 9th, 2017 1838th day - today supposed to be the day you start went to college again. but i didn’t see you at all. my sleep cycle was a mess since two days ago. i was so tired again. i thought i was happier without you, i wish we didn’t have to be in a same town. being in a same town with you making me anxious and sad again. Nov 10th, 2017 1839th day - my sleep cycle was still a mess, the whole day thinking ”what if i met you today? i’m not ready yet” but somehow part of me want to see you. decide to sleep early tonight, you suddenly popped out in my chat just before i closed my eyes. you said something about college, and said you probably were still out of town on Monday. i took a long sigh realized that you were not here, not in this town. hmm...you probably went back to your hometown. i decided to not read and reply right away. Nov 11th, 2017 1840th day - i replied your chat shortly at 10 morning, nothing much happened. ah, i decided to continue the movie list you gave me. Nov 12th, 2017 1841st day - nothing happened. nothing is good. Nov 13th, 2017 1842nd day - so far so good, i started to feel that i didn’t think about you the way i used too. Nov 14th, 2017 1843rd day - today, people nonchalantly ask where you at to me. i simply said i didn’t know. jeez, it’s not like i’m your manager. Nov 15th, 2017 1844th day - today i was surprised seeing you peeking thru class window, that’s mean you already in town, i also accidentally saw you in crowd but acted like i didn’t. luckily our eyes did’t meet. i was too tired of routines, felt like i could collapse anytime. maybe i should take day off tomorrow. suddenly you chat me on afternoon asking college stuff, i answered late and short. somehow we chat until night, the only question i asked was where you had been. but i fell asleep before saw you replied. Nov 16th, 2017 1845th day - checked the text, you said you had exam this morning, i simply said good luck with smiley. Nov 17th, 2017 1846th day - i took another day off, my period cramp felt worse the whole day. you commented on my post. Nov 18th, 2017 1847th day - I saw an announcement about a tournament in two weeks. you probably join this year too...luckily, i will be off town by the end of this month to my intern schedule. Nov 19th, 2017 1848th day - saw your post about practicing, guess it’s true. i went with my sisters this morning and update a lot. you happened to see my posts and said you want to join. slightly happy, until you said you can’t later...well whatever dude. Nov 20th, 2017 1849th day - i acted as if i didn’t aware about you, i tried not to be in the same space. and i thought you did too (?), because i was sure you saw me, but you didn’t say a thing. but gosh you were laughing annoyingly loud, making me aware that you were here. Nov 21st, 2017 1850th day - i didn’t go to campus today, somehow i miss you the whole day and also anxious about you didn’t greet me (like i did to you). tonight you text me asking for help tomorrow, as usual i replied shortly. Nov 22nd, 2017 1851st day - i helped you today, we speak as nothing’s happened. but yeah IT IS nothing that happened. we acted like before, we didn’t really avoid each other actually. Nov 23rd, 2017 1852nd day - went to your place today to collect my money, you seem not recognizing me because i use new helmet (?). didn’t get off from my ride. can’t looked at you properly. luckily my new helmet glass is dark enough so you can’t see through. ah, actually i planned to ask you to join me for a ride but it’s seems that you were busy. rest day sighing and imagining that today would be waaay better if you joined me. am i back to square one??. also, i saw the tournament IG, your team lost on the previous match, new jersey huh? new back number? wish your team didn’t get to the final so i don’t have to watch you as i did in the previous years. Nov 24th, 2017 1853rd day - i didn’t go to uni today. stalked that tournament IG, but no news about your team. you uploaded a video that i took of you playing. that’s already the second video. you barely upload yourself, and now you upload about you? playing??and two videos??in a row?? dude, were you showing off? to whom?.

Nov 25th, 2017 1854th day - today you upload THE THIRD video, but this one wasn’t the one that i took. sorry, hadn’t like any of your videos. i search the possibility of whom you tried to showing off to. remember the one that got you in trouble last 3 months? i couldn’t find them in your followers list. did you block each other?what happened?

Nov 26th, 2017 1855th day - your team lost again yesterday. ah, i saw a picture of you, somehow i noticed your torn shoes. may be you should buy a new one. ah i remember you said you want to buy it several months ago. should i buy it for you? what?! why the fuck i want spent money on pricey shoes??? moreover it isn’t for me?? but, you’ll look good in new shoes, hm... maybe orange or yellow will suit you...wait? what??? why the fuck, i’m not spending singgle penny for ya.

Nov 27th, 2017 1856th day - this damn IG hasn’t update anything about the game. so finally i ask you. you said you didn’t make it to final. somehow i feel a bit sorry and guilty too. and the torn shoes? turned out it’s not torn at all, it’s more like a gum stuck there. ah also, YOU UPLOADED THE FOURTH VIDEO, damn...

Nov 28th, 2017 1857th day - we planned to have a meeting today in afternoon. you asked me to eat ramen with you before the meeting and of course i said yes. i ordered the black broth as usual and you ordered the white one. we played stacko 2 times and end up draw.and then we went to the meeting place. i asked you and our friend to have a trip this weekend, you said you gonna slee in my place the night before the trips. wohooo~!

Nov 29th, 2017 1858th day - nothing much today, i didn’t went to anywhere.

Nov 30th, 2017 1859th day - i didn’t met you either today, gotta help my friend with her task.

                                          DECEMBER 2017

Dec 1st, 2017 1860th day - i went to you place this afternoon so we can buy things for our trip tomorrow. you gotta do college stuff and laundry first. that took some time and i accidentally took a nap in your place.  five past half finally we can leave your place. i wait outside cause i’m ready, suddenly when you went out i almost dropped my jaw cause you wear a fucking cute pink lipstick which is subtle but so damn cute it suit you so much. i was having a goose bump all the way to the mall. also you wear a new BACKPACK!! it was cute too. so fun grocery-shopping with you, especially when you threw those snacks and i gotta catch them with the basket, spent most off my money lol. we also got matching rubber bracelet. yay!. we went to my home past nine. searching to places for our trip until midnight cause we had no idea where to go. this is the first normal and anxious-free night when i sleep with you.

Dec 2nd, 2017 1861st day - woke up at 4 am, but too lazy to move and decided to have a quick sleep again, turns out i dream quite long dream about you (which is i forgot). woke up again at 5 am, it’s nice cooking in the morning with you, seems like too good too be true. then we took a bath, dressed and got ready for the trip. it was a nice trip, i’m glad this trip worked. if only i sat beside you. we went back to town on evening and you gotta do some college stuff, so we accompanied you. it was until 9.30 pm and i finally can went back home AND GUESS WHAT? you tag along and that mean TWO NIGHTS SLEEP OVER!! YOWOHOOHOOOO. i was so glad. you gave your rubber to my sis :(. i took it and gave mine instead, so i kept yours. again we stay up until midnight, you fell asleep in opposing the actual position. i tucked you in and decide to sleep according to your position.

Dec 3rd, 2017 1862nd day - you slept again in the morning, guess you were too tired from yesterday, me too actually. but i decided to watch movie, idk why. you slept in weird position again, bending your neck, that gonna hurt bad when you woke up. i pulled the pillow a bit to adjust your neck, but you woke up. i decided to sleep too and woke up in the middle of the day. we ordered ramens and chocolate drinks in the noon. i kept guessing when will you went back to your home, it wasn’t rain much tho.in the end you decided to sleep in my place again. fuck.i.was.too.happy. THIS WAS THREE DAY STREAKS!!!!! and ofc it was better than just two days sleep over. thanks God!!. i spent mostly time in front of my laptop cause i got work to do. you talk to my sis and mom and had fun with them. when it’s late, i laid in bed and suddenly fell asleep. this is the first night i slept first.

Dec 4th, 2017 1863rd day - woke up late. we rode you to your place and went to uni after. we left in hurry and you forgot your bottle in my place. about 10 pm you asked me to accompany you do college stuff in library, i guess we got a bit closer than before?? cause it’s rare for you to ask college-related stuff with me. it was fun tho.

Dec 5th, 2017 1864th day - i brought your bottle. and end up helping you again in lobby. was fun too, i hope we could do regular things like this together more often. :) Dec 6th, 2017  1865th day - i went to campus today, but didn’t get to see you. i saw your bike, you probably still doing stuff in library. Dec 7th, 2017 1866th day - printed something for your presentation, but its ends up canceled. we were ready tho, you asked me to play basketball with you this afternoon. i said, i can’t afford to ashamed myself in front of your team. you said it was ok, no body practice anw. turns out, boys played too. i just sat in corner watching you played with them. i didn’t get to play anything in the end. Dec 8th, 2017 1867th day - you asked me to help you with stuff again, but i got schedule on that time. i saw you got problem with your tools. i hope everything worked well. by the end of the day, i texted you about college. it was niiiiceeeeee, i want to have daily chat with you.

Dec 9th, 2017 1868th day - day off, i actually wanted to ask yo to hanging out today, but i got tons work to do.

Dec 9th, 2017 - Dec 15th, 2017 1868th - 1874th day - i was so busy and occupied the last week. i skipped one week updates. i couldn’t recall what happened each day. we did meet most days, but nothing’s special. all i could see in these days were we did more regular things together :)

Dec 16th, 2017 1875th day - you asked me to have a ride a bit after our schedule. i got plans, but ofc i also wanted to spend time with you. so i decided to do both. you accompanied me doing my plans, i accompanied you hanging out this afternoon. we spent time until like 9pm. you asked me again to accompany you swim tomorrow. at the end of the day you decided to spend the night in my place. yay!. Dec 17th, 2017 1876th day - woke up 6 am, you still sleeping.. why am i the one that excited for the swimming?? you didn’t wake up until 8, didn’t you the one that said we should go early? . 

[theamberfang]

Journal 35

I successfully went out of the house for the first time in months to obtain a copy of Dune. I’d been putting the goal as “borrow from the library,” but before going out I decided to look online to see if the public library actually had it. I’d been assuming they would because I hear it’s a highly influential work, but it turns out there are only three copies total in the city’s entire system, with none being at a nearby location. Instead, I simply opted to go buy a copy. While I was out, I also purchased a new mouse since the left-click on the old one had started to become unreliable - particularly annoying for Nuclear Throne.

It was a good experience all around. I actually opted to ask employees about where to find what I was looking for, and it went really well. The guy at the electronics store even had a few jokes about the kind of “mouse” I was looking for. It was a bit too cheesy even for me, but I appreciated the enthusiastic energy. In the check-out line I even had a bit of small talk with someone else.

Despite all of my social anxiety, whenever I do interact with people, it’s almost always quite pleasant. I suppose that’s why it’s a mental illness: all evidence says that social interactions are a good thing, but I’m driven to avoid it anyway. Certainly there’s something wrong here that could use some correcting. This journal is the best I have for now, but those support groups I’ve been setting as “extended goals” would be another type. Unfortunately, more professional help isn’t really in the cards, but I’m making do.

One goal I set yesterday was to discuss what’s going on with In-Depth Analysis, but after thinking about it today, I figured I may as well include it as part of my daily journal. As compromise, I’m actually writing this a few hours earlier than I otherwise would have.

Anyway, my first thought was that I probably don’t actually have much to say: I want to get back to it tomorrow and that’ll be that. Still, I’ve said as much several times over the past week without much success, so it’s probably better to follow-through here.

One contributing factor that I hadn’t explicitly pointed out in the past week is YouTube. I have to admit that it’s an obsession really: there are some things that I feel like I need to watch. I don’t actually need to, I just feel compelled to. It’s almost like being subscribed to people makes me feel obligated to watch their content; it’s odd since it’s not even a paid subscription.

There were also a bunch of videos I was stuck on without even being subscribed to the channel, and that was matches from Frostbite, a Smash Bros event. (I might have mentioned it before? I don’t quite recall.) Though it only happened over a single weekend, the matches were held on more than one stream, and the channel has all of them. It’s many hours of video, but each match is relatively short, so there’s an element of just-one-more. Despite my fascination with the game, I could do with being more mindful of just how much time I’m spending watching it.

Other than my poor time management, there’s the more general issue I have with [re]starting a project. My first thought regarding this discussion really was “I’m going to start back up tomorrow” so I clearly want to and have motivation, so it does mostly come down to an irrational anxiety. I think the best thing I can do on both fronts is to commit to a specific time, and have that time in writing, here, in this journal.

I’m committing to actually writing at noon, 12 PM. Basically, I’m repurposing my noon alarm clock since I’ve mostly settled into a regular sleeping schedule - last night I went to bed at 8 PM and I woke up at 5 AM. Additionally, I’m committing to not going to YouTube or Reddit until 1 PM. One hour is likely not enough time to write a satisfactory post, but it should be enough to ensure I’ve started and reached a point where I feel I may as well finish.

I’m considering setting some kind of punishment for failure as well, to establish some actual self-discipline. My first thought was to restrict YouTube or Reddit for the whole next day, but I’m not sure if I can hold myself to that. The next thing was to prevent myself from playing Nuclear Throne dailies, but that might be too easy - I miss them on accident sometimes, and have not done them for long stretches of time anyway. I’m thinking I’ll go with the YouTube restriction. I don’t know if I’ll be able to enforce such a punishment on myself, but I can at least try it out.

That’s about all I feel I can write now. If I recharge enough before going to bed, I may write the next entry of my Groove rundowns for Felheim. I also want to reply to WANMWAD since I bought Dune and have come to a decision regarding IDA, but maybe it would be more appropriate to wait until I actually have the post written.

Tomorrow Goals:

IDA at noon with no YouTube or Reddit for an hour

Journal

Reply to and thank WANMWAD

Felheim Grooves if I haven’t done it already

Extended Goals:

Read Dune and maybe write about it

Support groups; probably not participating yet to be honest, but I’ll keep it in mind

Throne Breakdowns

Loose Talks: Monogatari, Mob Psycho, Esports/Let’s plays

Ouroboros, catch-up on both reading and comments