#i've been out of school for a month and my brain really said damn you miss writing essays huh

[squishlordkiwi]

Did a 15+ hour road trip with my fam twice a little ago and I drove a good chunk of it. Used AA/DGS music to keep me awake bc music psych is a blessing sometimes. Anyway, just a roundabout way to say, I have discovered some fun things in the music that made me 👀👀👀 Idk if anyone else has noticed any of it (and I will say I have minimal music theory knowledge but I'm an English major with the tendency to read into symbolism way too much), but feel to keep reading if you're interested! Spoilers for DGS2 are in here, fair warning!

I'll try and include links to the songs when I can! It'll probably be a mix of Spotify and YouTube hyperlinks so bear with me. Fair warning, this is super long because I decided to cram everything in one post oops lmao

The Funky Time Signature

The first thing I really ever noticed was that Sholmes' "Dance of Deduction"s were weird in terms of keeping beat. It's not in common time aka 4/4 aka 8-count; I think it's in 7/8 time (so you count 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 etc. etc.) which is a struggle to maintain counting since people are so used to 3, 4, and 8-counts.

Dance of Deduction - Type A

I found sheet music for easier counting! It says it's in 7/4: https://youtu.be/51vTmoQzwI8

Originally, I thought it was just because he's Weird and Silly™, but I ended up listening to "Partners - The game is afoot" which plays when Sholmes and Yuujin are on the S.S. Grouse trying to deduce where Jigoku is.

Partners - The game is afoot!

This one is surprisingly in 4/4 aka common time (you count 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 etc. etc. [though I have seen sheets put it in 12/8, which is close-ish, but it still has an even counting pattern WHICH IS WHAT MATTERS]). So in actuality, Shomles' Dance of Deductions aren't in a weird time signature because he's our favorite eccentric boy (okay, it might be part that too); it's because he's missing his partner after he left and investigating never felt quite right without him. Once he and Yuujin get to investigate together again, he's whole and happy. And it's just so fucking gay I can't.

Harpsichord

The big thing I noticed while I was driving (because there was nothing else interesting on the road) was the use of harpsichords in certain Londoner themes, specifically Stronghart, van Zieks, Iris, and Kazuma's prosecutor theme, as well as some of the final songs during 2-4&5.

If you don't know, this is what a harpsichord sounds like! Yes, I know I'm a nerd for being able to pick it out and name it while driving lmao

You can hear it a lot in Stronghart's theme, specifically around 0:38-0:49 (it's pretty in the background so you kinda have to strain your ears but it's there), but it's also pretty present throughout his theme.

Lord Chief Justice Stronghart - Time-Keeper of the Law

There's also a lot of it in van Zieks' theme as well; it's right off the bat and it's one of the prominent instruments throughout the piece.

Barok van Zieks - The Reaper of the Bailey

You have to really be listening for it, but it pops up occasionally in Iris' theme as well! You kinda have to strain your ears during 0:16-0:30 to hear it, but it's definitely there. It's more hidden compared to van Zieks'.

Iris Wilson - Young Biographer

I know Kazuma is Japanese, however, since he became a prosecutor in Britain, it still counts and it makes more sense once I tell you why it's all related (if you haven't guessed yet). ANYWAY, his theme also has a lot of harpsichord in it, even in the parts that were from his original theme.

A Prosecutor, Reborn

This could all just be a stylistic choice too, but do you see it yet? All the people who correspond with these themes are directly related to the Professor killings. van Zieks and Kazuma have the most prominent because we know by 2-4 the obvious connections they both hold. Iris and Stronghart's are more in the background since both of their involvements are big reveal-type deals by the end of the game.

Bonus points: the actual theme that plays when anything related to the Professor is mentioned also has some background harpsichord to connect it all.

The Professor - A Spectre Revived

I will note that I didn't notice anything in Gregson's theme, even though he played a big part in the false conviction. Courtney Sythe's theme also has some harpsichord, but I can't remember how she's related to it other than the fact that she helped with the autopsy (which probably means I should replay the games again lol).

Other game music that proves the connection:

Enoch Drebber - Rondo of Science and Magic

The Great Gateway to the Truth

The Prison Warders

The Great Closed Trial - Court is Now in Session

Reminiscences - The Fruits of Ambition

Others I probably completely missed

A Prosecutor, Reborn

Speaking of Kazuma's prosecutor theme, one of the really cool things about its composition is the warring back and forth between itself. It starts with the completely new theme, blending his usual string accompaniment with drums/cymbals, singular bell tolls, and harpsichord. When it gets to around 0:47, you hear the bells and then it switches back to his original theme from Adventures, though it's a lot grander now and lacking a lot of the traditional Japanese elements it once had.

A Prosecutor, Reborn

Kazuma Asougi - Samurai on a Mission

And it bounces back and forth like that until the end of the song, the bells signifying the shifting. It goes to show this internal struggle Kazuma is having between finding the truth even if it's something he won't like (his original theme) and following his emotions to falsely convict van Zieks as revenge (the beginning chunk of his prosecutor theme).

I also think it's interesting how dominating the harpsichord is, again especially over the chunks of his original theme from Adventures. In connection to it being related to the Professor, aside from the obvious connection to his father, it also shows how much influence and manipulation Stronghart had over him, with him being the BBEG.

Siblings

One of my favorite things I noticed was Susato and Kazuma's connections through themes, though not the one you're thinking. Kazuma's official theme I'm sure has a few connections to Susato's (but I haven't listened closely enough to hear them), however I really noticed how intertwined the two were when I listened to Kazuma's unused theme they provided in Chronicles.

Susato Mikotoba - A New Bloom in the New World

Kazuma Asougi (Unused)

Many of the same instruments are used, as well as note and chord progressions. They have the same peaceful/serene vibes too, which is understandable in why Kazuma's was scrapped (even if I do like it a lot). But if this ended up being Kazuma's actual theme, I would've noticed the familial relationship they share instead of my initial thoughts of it purely just being professional.

That's all I've really noticed for now, but I'm sure I'll come across more things as I listen to the soundtrack to study. I will, however, shut up now and let you get back with you day/night/whatever time of day it is for you because this is getting l o n g. If you did read this far, thank you for indulging me and listening to me be a complete nerd ^w^ And definitely feel free to share your thoughts too; I love talking about this stuff if you couldn't tell!

[mangoguy]

Displacement (2/2)

John "Soap" MacTavish('09) x Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish('22)

Warnings: Mentions of character death (Ghost and Roach), no y/n used, no pronouns other than they/them used a few of times.

You can't help but find it difficult to get used to your new surroundings.

_

It's finally here!!! I meant for this to be out a week after the first part, but school got busy lmao

Read the first part here

There are a few things you have noticed after being thrown in here.

One, the year is 2023.

Two, You are married to John (or Johnny as he likes being called) in this timeline.

And three, you don’t work in the military, you are no longer with Task Force 141.

That third one hit particularly hard. Your task force was a huge part of your life along with John.

You faked memory loss, thinking it was a smart move for now. You doubted they would even believe you if you started spouting that you were not from here. Even to you, that sounded crazy.

‘Because it is…’ you thought bitterly.

This universe wasn't in World War III, you weren't complaining though, that was the mission after all. You still had a hard time adjusting, especially with him around, Johnny. The man who wears your husband's face. Well, you guessed you're even… since technically you were wearing his wife's face? That's how you saw it anyway.

He was worried about you, often asking if you were okay. You could never really answer him, just stare and nod. You felt so foreign here, out of place, and you missed John so much it made you ill. You wondered what happened to him? Was he okay? Something told you he wasn’t. With where your mind was going this was going to be a long hospital stay…

It's been two months since you've woken up. Your mind convinced you it was some weird coma dream.

‘People have those, don't they?’ You thought, staring out the living room window. You felt silly mourning the loss of some older version of yourself and Johnny. It was morbid of your brain to think of how Ghost would die, or mourn the loss of two others you ‘barely knew.’ You found it funny how Price looked in your dream, older, a little unhinged. Gaz was what scared you the most in terms of dream Gaz, you didn't want to think about it.

You met them briefly, Task Force 141, Johnny's teammates, and friends. They all seemed very concerned about you, maybe even a little guilty like they caused the accident. You assured them you were fine and mentioned that the doctors said you were healing quite nicely.

“Aye, but they… have memory loss, can't remember a damn thing… the doctor said it looks severe,” Johnny spoke in a hushed whisper when you went off to fetch something.

“They can't remember anything?” Kyle spoke.

“Yeah, and I'm talkin’ like their whole life, it's like they're a new person… Can't even remember our weddin’ day, our first meetin’, or… anythin’” Johnny could feel his heartbreak just speaking it out loud. A painful reminder of what happened, he thought maybe someone was punishing him. Probably was, for the things he's done. He gave a deep sigh, as Kyle gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Price and Simon both frowned, giving the Scot a sympathetic look, that's when you decided to enter the room again.

“Bonnie yer… are ye okay? Ye've been starin’ out the window for a while…” you heard Johnny speak softly. You turned to look at him, nodding your head softly.

“Yeah sorry, just… I guess I'm reminiscing on some weird dream I had while in that coma,” you admitted.

“Hm? Dream ye say? Do ye want tae talk about it?” John sat near you on the couch and pulled you into his arms. It was comforting being in his embrace.

“Hm, not much to say other than… I guess I just dreamt of a whole other life for us? You were there, though you were a bit older… definitely more handsome in my dream,” you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Looks like I've got some competition,” he paused to chuckle softly. “But older you say? Were ye dreaming of tae future or somethin’?” Johnny asked.

“Hm, you could say that… though there are differences in dream John and you in real life.”

“Aye… and what's that?”

“Well for one he was a bit taller than you,” you snickered.

“Aye!”

“And well he didn't have an arm tattoo, like you do he had one on his neck, a revolver,” you paused to think, your mind was getting a little muddy on details.

“Oh! And your scars are different, that's all I seem to remember at the moment...” you finished. Johnny was silent for a moment, absorbing this new information. It was nice hearing you talk again, even if it was about this mysterious other version of himself.

“Damn, sounds like one handsome bastard…”

“Johnny…”

“What I'm bein’ serious,” he muses.

Something weird was going on, you couldn't place your finger on it. It all started with a pair of jeans. What scared you was that you vaguely recalled wearing them somewhere. You placed them down on the floor and stared at them.

‘Of course, I wore them somewhere they're pants…’ You thought, thinking it was silly you were worried about jeans. You shook your head, grabbing them off the floor but that's when something slipped out from the pocket. One fell with a hard thunk and the other fluttered to the ground. You pick them both up. One was a simple wedding band on it was an engraving, two sets of dates

xx-xx-‘07

xx-xx-‘09

The other item made your heart drop in your stomach. Time seemed to stop as familiar sets of eyes were on you. John Price, Ghost, John “Soap” MacTavish, you. In the corner of the photo were the words ‘OP Kingfish.’

This was it.

The evidence that your ‘coma dream’ wasn't a dream after all. How could you think it was a dream? How dare this world make you think your John was a dream, your world. You assumed it was the universe trying to make you ‘fit in,’ but that begs the question, how did your stuff get here? You shoved the ring and photo in your pocket as you heard Johnny walking over to where you were.

“Hey Bonnie, are you almost done gettin’ ready? Simon texted saying he was at the bar already,” Johnny watched you as you put the jeans back in the closet.

“Yeah I'm ready, can't keep the man waiting,” you smiled though it didn't reach your eyes.

While watching Ghost and Johnny converse you felt the ring and photo through your pocket for the tenth time. You worried they would disappear and yet they never did. You stood up from your seat, getting the attention of the two men at the table.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” you spoke, walking towards the small hallway that housed the restrooms. You entered, taking a quick breather, your emotions were everywhere tonight. It was starting to annoy you, if you were being honest all you wanted was to just relax and enjoy the evening…

Even it felt fake.

Doing your business and leaving the bathroom, you noticed Johnny had a conflicting look. But when you approached he smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sat down.

“Everything okay?” You asked and he nodded, though you noticed it was stiff.

You ended up drinking, not a lot but enough to get a bit tipsy. You barely remember the car ride home, though here you are, in bed and snuggled into the blankets. You were reaching out towards Johnny’s spot but found he was not on his side of the bed. It’s cold, meaning he was gone for a while. You slowly sat up, groaning from a slight headache. You called out for him but didn’t hear an answer. You got out of bed and walked towards the living room, spotting him sitting on the couch with the table lamp on. He was staring at something, upon closer look it was the photo, your photo with your team. Your John.

You blinked once, then twice.

When did he get that?

Shit.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked, slightly on the defence.

“What am I doin’ with it? What are ye doing with this? What am I even lookin’ at?” He asked, looking over at you his expression inconceivable.

“It's… complicated Johnny, you probably wouldn't understand.”

He went quiet after that, rubbing his face in frustration, he then stared at the photo again. You needed to figure out where to go from here. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought.

“So, are ye from the future or somethin? Because that's what it looks like… we all look older in this photo… Plus why the hell are you in this photo anyway?” Johnny spoke up finally after a long silence.

“No… it's complicated…”

“Then enlighten me!” You could hear him getting frustrated.

“Fine… I'm… not from here, I don't know how to explain it! One moment I was someplace else then the next thing I know I'm here, in Scotland… In a hospital with someone who looks like my husband but isn't!” you didn't mean to sound so harsh, but all your feelings were bursting out.

“But I am yer husband, didn't you tell me ye were dreamin’ while in that coma?” Johnny tried reasoning.

“I lied, at first I thought maybe it was all a dream but how do you explain the photo and this? I know for a fact I wasn't dreaming I had a completely different life,” You pulled out the ring, showing him the engraved dates.

He stared at the ring, at the dates that were engraved then at the photo. He seemed a bit distant, thinking, processing.

“Is that why whenever I look at ye… It feels like I've lost someone… lost my Bonnie,” Johnny lamented. You were caught off guard by that. But you couldn't deny that you also felt a huge loss whenever you thought of John. The two of you stayed silent, grieving but didn't want to think about why. You refused to think your John didn't survive that explosion.

“I… guess you could say I'm from an alternate universe, god… that's even more confusing but makes the most sense” you decided to change the subject. Johnny finally looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Aye… that sounds crazy… maybe-” he didn't finish his sentence but you knew he was probably still trying to find a reasonable answer. You couldn't blame him and this is exactly the reason you didn't bring it up. You decided to take a different approach.

“That photo was taken on a joint mission with Task Force 141 and Delta force, we were going after this guy named Vladimir Makarov, Intel claimed he was in this facility in Ukraine but he wasn't and it ended up being a trap… That's when John or my Soap, I guess I should say, got injured and Price was captured,” you explained. You were starting to sweat a bit, speaking that mission out loud sounded insane. It sure did catch Johnny's attention though. A dark look crossed his face at the mention of Vladimir Makarov but it quickly faded.

“Huh…” was all Johnny managed to get out, it was a hell of a story. You could tell he needed more convincing.

“Well, one person in that photograph isn't alive… Ghost, along with another member Roach were shot by a man named Shepherd…” Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned deeply.

“Betrayed by him and his shadow company…” you seethed. That seemed to make Johnny perk up. From the looks of it, that story of yours seemed to hit a little too close to home. He gave you a thoughtful look albeit a concerned look.

“Well, shite… that just all but confirms your theory… But the question remains why are ye here? And how come yer body in yer time stayed there?”

“I don't know… it's not like I have the answers. I was literally on a mission to assassinate Makarov but then an explosion went off behind us and I ended up in that hospital.” You explained.

“Ye know… that sounds similar to what happened to my spouse, well they didn't work in the military but there was an accident that involved both me and them, they ended up taking most of the damage which is why they put you in a coma… but you already knew that,” he mumbled that last part.

“I wonder if that's related… but that still doesn't explain why I'm here…” You crossed your arms, sitting opposite from him on the couch. You stared at your reflection on the TV for a moment, observing your new skin, you often didn't look at yourself for too long. You found it troublesome and dare you say uncanny.

This whole situation was confusing, but you found some comfort now that Johnny knew and seemed to believe you. You did grow fond of him over the couple of months you've been here. It was slow, sure, unfairly comparing him to your John but you quickly came to realize that although they might share the same name and hair- they were different. That also made you realize something else though, something unpleasant.

"Johnny… I understand if you want me to leave, I am technically wearing your spouse's face..." you suddenly spoke. Johnny turned to look at you with a bewildered look on his face, silently asking if you were for real.

“That's a way to put it…” he mumbled with a long pause before speaking again, "...But I don't want you to leave."

"...Why?" It was your turn to be bewildered now.

"Well, is it bad I still want to be with ye? I know you aren't the version of my Bonnie I married but... you're still you whether you're fighting in the big fight or here making the house a home... I loved you in both timelines,” he suddenly proclaimed, bringing a hand over to caress your cheek. There was hope that maybe this could work.

That couldn't be a bad idea.

The universe brought the two of you together for a reason.

Words: 2,337

[canirove]

The Nanny Diaries | Chapter 5

Author’s note: Part of this chapter is an imagine I posted months ago and that kind of inspired the story, so some of you may have read it already, though I did some tiny changes.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

It's been two weeks since Alice's hen do, and I still don't remember what the hell happened with Ben on that lift. Well, that’s a lie. I actually remember one thing: that I kissed him and that it was one of the best kisses I've ever had. But everything else? It's all blurry. And I hate that feeling, because who knows what stupid things I said.

We haven't crossed paths either since that day. According to his Instagram, he is on a work trip in Italy, enjoying the good weather and amazing food, while here it is pouring with rain and I've been living out of white rice and boiled fish because Levi has been sick. And if we didn't eat what he ate, he would not eat at all. Kids.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"Hold the door!" someone says, running towards the lift. No, not someone. Ben. He's back from his trip. "Hello, neighbour" he says with that big smile I love so much.

"Holy shit."

"Is that your new way to say hello to people?" he asks, still smiling.

"No, sorry. Hi" I say, trying to make my brain work again and stop staring at him. But I can't. I just can't.

He is not wearing his usual kind of ugly sweatshirts, jeans and sneakers. He's wearing a suit. A freaking suit. And on his hand, he has a trench coat, a Burberry one judging by the bit of fabric I can see on the inside. He looks like he was shooting one of their ads. Or maybe that he was an extra on one of the Kingsman movies. He looks stupidly hot and elegant, and I can't stop looking at him.

"Do you want to take a picture?" he says as he moves to push his floor's button.

"What?"

"You keep staring, so maybe you want to take a photo and keep staring later. When you are alone" he smirks.

"You are so funny, Benjamin" I say, trying to roll my eyes. But I can't. They are stuck looking at him.

"How was the hangover?"

"Not bad."

"Sure" he chuckles.

"It was horrible. Happy, now?"

"Not really. The thought of you being sick is one I don't like."

The thought of what? Did he just say what I think he said?

"How is Levi?" he asks.

"He was sick. One of those stomach bugs."

"Poor boy. I actually got him a gift, when is he coming back from school?"

"Around three."

"Great. I’ll see if I can stop by" he says as the lift stops on my floor. "It was nice seeing you again, neighbour."

"You too, Benjamin" I say, speaking before thinking.

When the lift’s door close, he is smiling from ear to ear, and I can only think about one thing. That I'm falling for him. Hard. Damn it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I yell, quickly turning around after seeing the door opening on the mirror's reflection, and the person that shows up.

"I’m so sorry, I didn't know there was someone in the bathroom."

"Leave. Now!" I say, holding the tower I'm wearing a bit tighter against my body.

"But I need to use it" Ben says, closing the door behind him and nodding towards the toilet.

"Don't you have a house where you can do that? What are you doing here?"

"I came to give Levi his gift, but Mrs. McKenzie told me he was out with his parents. Then she invited me to a cup of tea, we had a chat, and now I need to pee and she said I could use the bathroom on this part of the house.”

"This is for staff only."

"I didn't know" he shrugs.

"Well, now you know. So please, leave."

"The other night you weren't so keen on me leaving" he says, taking a step closer to where I am standing. "When you kissed me on the lift, I mean."

"I didn't kiss you."

"Yes, you did. You threw yourself at me and kissed me. Said I have very kissable lips."

"I was drunk, I wasn't thinking" I say, feeling my cheeks burn.

"The nanny being drunk and kissing her neighbour. Imagine if Mr. and Mrs. Kloss found out."

"You better not say a word, Benjamin" I say, threating him.

"Or what?" he says, now standing very close to me. "Will you kiss me again? Because I really want to kiss you. Now."

"What are you..." But before I can finish my sentence, he is doing it. He is kissing me, one hand cupping my face while the other is holding onto the sink, pinning me against it. And for some reason, I kiss him back, my hands still holding my towel.

"Ben..." I whisper when he starts kissing my neck, my collarbone. "What if Mrs. McKenzie comes looking for you?"

"She won't" he says, looking me in the eyes as his hands move to mine, taking them on his and letting them rest on the sink, one to each side of my body.

"You can't know that."

"I do. She was busy getting everything ready to make dinner" he says with a big smirk before his fingers are back on my towel. “Do you trust me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me or not?”

“I do.”

“Good” he says, undoing the knot on my towel and letting it fall to the floor, leaving me stark naked in front of him.

"Benjamin!" I say, trying to sound mad at him, outraged at what he is doing. But my voice is just a whisper, a whisper that turns into a gasp when I feel his mouth on my nipple, his tongue playing with it.

"Shh" he says when I hear myself moaning. "Mrs. McKenzie is in the kitchen, remember?"

"She..." But again, I'm not able to say anything else, his mouth now on my other breast. When he gets tired of it, he kneels down and starts kissing my stomach, my bellybutton, going down as my body tenses under his touch. 

“May I?” he asks, stopping just there.

My only answer is a nod, one that is followed by a loud moan when he finds the spot he was looking for, my hand instantly going to my mouth to stop me from doing it again. From Mrs. McKenzie being able to hear me. But it's impossible. Whatever he is doing feels too good, and I can't control what my body is doing.

"Ben" I hear myself whispering again, one of my hands on his hair, pulling him closer to me, asking him for more. And then, I'm gone. I don't know what the hell he is doing to me and for how long, but I am completely gone. 

"There" I suddenly hear him say in front of me, bringing me back to reality. When I open my eyes, still trying to catch my breath, he is putting the towel back in place, a big grin on his face.

"I..." I mumble, not knowing what to say, still feeling... I don't know what I'm feeling right now.

"I'll see you around, neighbour" he says, that stupid big grin still on his face as he opens the bathroom door, winking at me before closing it and disappearing, leaving me speechless and definitely in need of another shower. A very cold one.

[all-soul-crossover-comic]

BIIIGG ANNOUNCEMENT FOR ALL SOUL!!!

I know I haven't been posting much, but trust me, it's for a damn good reason. That reason being...

I'm making a webcomic!!! An original one! This is amazing! (For me at least.) I haven't really felt anything with my past stories aside from this one because they've always had to be something, and I could never figure out how to get from point A to point B in a "respectable" way. (That way being with no fun or whimsy or glitter and sparkles). It's been occupying my brain just as much as All Soul usually would. So much so that I might either leave all soul off here or write the chapters exclusively in text. Script form, of course. Descriptive writing isn't my strong suit, I've realized...

I'm still working out the details of the story but it still feels like that all soul thing where a lot of different lore from different things are mixed and matched. A bit from kaiba, a bit from moomin. That sort of thing. I'm trying not to give too much away in case I either end up dropping it due to lack of motivation or the story changes drastically, but I can confirm that it shares a lot of DNA with All Soul (due to them having the same mother lmfao) so if you liked this, you might like my future original work! I'm really excited about it and worldbuilding has been so fun, and I haven't been so invested in writing since I started with the basic concept of All Soul 7 years ago. I think about it often still, just not in the way I used to, yk? Like I finally feel content with just having it live in my head again. It doesn't need to be a whole thing, it doesn't need to be like that one loud house fanfic that gets updated every few hours and has more than 1000 chapters.

More about the webcomic

My plan isn't set in stone (mostly because that's the only way to go assure that I won't complete anything at all) but I plan on releasing it on webtoon canvas, tapas, or Tumblr itself! Will she go to boarding school or will she stay in public school with her older sibling? Find out in about a year from now!

That's right! It's January, and i said a year! I plan on using 2024 as my sort of planning phase. I don't want to rush into this like I did in the past with my other abandoned projects. I hope to reveal the main plot for it in at least a few months, if I don't forget. It stars a female protagonist (because I can only read books or watch movies about womengirls or I get so bored that my brain functions start slowing down and my eyes start rolling into the back of my head), and that's pretty much all I can say! It features a straight romance because I love prettyboys and none of you can stop my teenager brain from being attracted to men, and borrows a lot of worldbuilding things from Winx Club. I hope I can share it with you all soon! See you all next time!

If you wanna maybe see some of the details about it sooner, or just see what else I got on my mind, follow my main blog, @eepop-stuffs .

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

s hello have any brainworms for roleswap dmvn formed in your mind yet....... bc im gnawing at the bars of my cage thinking about them

ALL RIGHT i've let this collect dust for long enough, I think.

Worldbuilding things!

Dimitri's parents are alive. Rufus is the equivalent of Miklan in this story, and I think he steals Areadbhar during month four of school. TBD.

The tragedy of Duscur doesn't happen, because Matthias' methods are the low-and-slow type rather than Lambert's "let's go have peace talks right now actually."

What DOES happen is the very beginnings of an armistice between Sreng and Faerghus, which is just as much a ploy by the slitherers now as it was in Duscur, and results in the incapacitation of Matthias as well as the death of the Queen and Miklan (and the usual cast and crew that got done in in Duscur, like Glenn).

Dimitri was there, but things play out a little differently. Still has absolutely bonkers levels of survivor's guilt. Why did Glenn have to lose his life instead of him? The queen and prince, too?

Felix's feelings on Dimitri are far more mixed because of it, I think. But that's another discussion (fic?).

Matthias shuts down on all attempts to make peace with other countries. He does put everything he has into trying to restabilize Faerghus, but his mind kinda snapped watching his son and wife die before his eyes. Sylvain straddles the line between hating him and feeling bad for him.

I'm sure I could have reworked this to make sense to include Duscur the way they have been, but brain running on fumes, so we'll take what we get. Feel free to imagine a character with a similar narrative role coming from Sreng instead. Maybe it's the son of the chieftain they . . . captured/took in/who the fuck knows.

Onto the dimivain of it all <3

Every hangup Sylvain has about people thirsting after his Crest and not him is cranked up to eleven, because now the chances of someone wanting the prestige of being his spouse (and by extension, a monarch) are ridiculously high.

Gautier territory is where it is, but the royal family lives in Fhirdiad. Because Blaiddyd territory is so close to where they actually are, the family charged with keeping them safe is pretty obvious. (Their monster of a Crest certainly doesn't hurt.)

Sylvain tries to poke Dimitri's buttons about this. "Doesn't it bother you? That you're stuck with me because of something you didn't choose?"

Dimitri doesn't have a real answer right away. He says something about being honoured, not caring to know another manner of life, same old same old. There's something in it about making your circumstances your own rather than fighting them tooth and nail that's at odds with Sylvain's perpetual "I know what I'm headed for but that doesn't mean I've gotta like it!"

Dimitri tries to tell Sylvain that bedding random women is not a great image for the crown prince. Sylvain loses his brain cells and asks if it'd be a safer rumour to have the crown prince be in love with his retainer.

Dimitri doesn't take him seriously for even a second.

Sylvain has never been more serious in his life.

"Dimitri, come on, you haven't ever said my name! I think you came out of the womb being all 'Your Highness' this, 'Your Highness' that." "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Highness." "You're so full of it! Just once? Please?" "I'm afraid not, Your Highness."

Sparring = flirting? Dimitri loses his composure whenever Sylvain really gets into it and tries to win, but it's a 50-50 chance on whether he actually succeeds.

Sylvain refuses to make the first move, when it's like that. Dimitri's heart's too big, and Sylvain doesn't want to know if he's being placated or pursued.

Unfortunately! Things get blown to bits during the timeskip. Dimitri damn near loses his life trying to prevent Sylvain from being captured by Cornelia's men, but he manages it. Unfortunately, he's still got a hell of a lot of wounds to lick while the Gautiers regroup in Gautier territory. The surrounding lords are skilled enough at diverting search parties before they can stumble upon a humble-looking cabin in the woods that houses Faerghus' most important people.

Sylvain's heart breaks when he sees his best friend, the boy who'd been sworn to him since the first time the sun came up, looking like hell now lived inside him.

"What are you doing? You've done your share, Dimitri. You don't have to do this anymore." You don't have to hurt yourself for me anymore. Please don't hurt for me. If you die for me, I worry that I couldn't even hate you for it.

Dimitri hasn't let go of Areadbhar since he returned. Maybe once, because eating had required it. But he sets it down in that moment and approaches so that there's no more than a handful of inches between them.

"You asked me if I was bothered by having to stay by your side. Do you think I would not have fled, across the sea or over the mountains, if I didn't want to stand where I've stood all these years?"

"But you--" But you didn't have a choice.

Dimitri looks off in the distance. "Does a hound choose to be a carnivore? A flower, to flourish in the sun?"

"Those are bodily functions, Dimitri. Don't think that counts."

"Ah. I haven't made it clear then."

Sylvain loses it a little when Dimitri leans closer.

"I breathe, and I wake, and I think of you, and if there was ever a moment of doubt that you're the cornerstone of my heart, Sylvain, I'm afraid that was an error on my part."

Sylvain wants to say something about how Dimitri could have easily had the entirety of Garreg Mach's student body chasing after him like a pack of wolves after prey, but Dimitri has willingly walked into the trap of his arms, so Sylvain is in no mood to spook him away (read: irritate him in the way Dimitri never admits to being irritated).

They have rings, Blaiddyd-silver and gems coloured Gautier-teal, that are always there under gloves and gauntlets.

People say that King Sylvain never married because he grew tired of the women that cycled through his chambers. Dimitri doesn't particularly like listening to people run their mouths that way, but protecting Sylvain from prying eyes and centuries-old expectation has always been more important than defending his honour.

[cherrygorilla]

The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window. 

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat. 

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly. 

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?" 

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention. 

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?" 

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail. 

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption. 

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that." 

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more. 

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother. 

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…" 

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?" 

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone. 

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool. 

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk. 

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air. 

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?" 

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether. 

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway. 

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring." 

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Jennifer and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink. 

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that. 

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend. 

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily." 

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was. 

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas." 

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp. 

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really. 

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't- 

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it. 

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further. 

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body. 

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did. 

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!" 

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short. 

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs. 

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area. 

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser. 

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August. 

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk. 

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning." 

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him. 

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant. 

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench. 

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet. 

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals." 

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it. 

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one. 

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him." 

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle. 

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from. 

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack. 

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?" 

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?” 

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand. 

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there. 

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time. 

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her. 

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer. 

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk. 

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page. 

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile. 

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!" 

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble. 

"Why don't you just play with us then?" 

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun." 

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?" 

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know. 

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance. 

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!" 

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played. 

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?" 

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?" 

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?" 

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit. 

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts." 

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows. 

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders. 

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe. 

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour. 

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation. 

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation. 

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned. 

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now. 

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother. 

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again. 

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult." 

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk. 

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is. 

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound. 

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet. 

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?” 

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat. 

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore." 

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest. 

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat. 

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind? 

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her." 

"Not by choice," Miles huffed. 

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?” 

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?” 

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.” 

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out. 

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified. 

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!" 

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls. 

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall." 

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world. 

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked. 

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?" 

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed. 

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him. 

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile. 

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset. 

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3." 

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed. 

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?” 

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh. 

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own. 

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart." 

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?" 

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?" 

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering. 

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again. 

Ok, now Carrie was really confused. 

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was. 

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message. 

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet." 

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his- 

Wait, why was she turning back around? 

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.  

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered. 

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck. 

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains. 

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence. 

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?" 

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod. 

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin. 

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. 

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now. 

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought. 

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear. 

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it. 

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?" 

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed. 

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all. 

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again. 

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.  

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff." 

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying. 

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation. 

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute." 

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle. 

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever. 

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery. 

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?" 

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense. 

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally. 

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify. 

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two." 

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin. 

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition. 

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses. 

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times. 

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong. 

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised. 

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?" 

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again. 

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat. 

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air. 

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention." 

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!" 

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one. 

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried. 

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again. 

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?" 

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises. 

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern. 

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed. 

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-" 

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat. 

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped. 

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition. 

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point. 

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw. 

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?" 

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend." 

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own. 

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test. 

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?" 

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.  

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though. 

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright. 

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again. 

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?” 

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?” 

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement. 

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed. 

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own. 

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick. 

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity. 

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief. 

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

[gentlenotes-moved]

So glad to hear that you finally have answers! I'm sure it's gonna make everything at least a bit easier to deal with! I hope that whichever plan of action your doctors now decide to take works quickly and without any problems for you. Beautiful souls like yours don't deserve to be in agony 😓😣

And don't you even dare feel guilty for not coming on Tumblr much now. Your health, physical and mental, is the most important thing!!!

(Me? I've been... existing 😅)

(also, I didn't realise we were mutuals until like a minute ago lol)

first of all, so sorry for the late response! and even if you are just existing, i hope that this existence is treating you gently and lovingly 💗 (and yeah! we're moots now yay!! <3)

but yeah, a definitive answer is really nice. a few days ago they actually sent in a letter saying: "visceral hypersensitivity/overactive nerves sending inappropriate signals to the brain. There is actually no acid reflux." he said it's best treated with low dosages of antidepressants. he also recommended me to get testing done for gastroparesis, and if that comes back "unremarkable", we'll focus treatments on functional dyspepsia.

i have noticed lately that i have had really bad brain fog, esp since this has all started. i've been having a really hard time concentrating, almost constantly fatigued, zone out a fuck ton more than i usually do, and am asking people to repeat themselves quite literally every time they speak, because it all sounds like absolute gibberish. also, (tmi warning), in the past 4 months, i have only had one (1) period that lasted one (1) day. one day. it wasn't even a heavy flow either. my last regular period was when the day this whole situation started, in late november. and i'm currently exactly 3 weeks late for one. like i get the cramps and everything that you get with a period, except the blood.

so... i think this whole brain and nerve thing is going a LOT deeper than just my dyspepsia like systems. i haven't brought any of this up to my doctor, but the next time i see her, i'm gonna. but i have no damn clue what i'm gonna do at this point tbh. (personal/family rant incoming)

my dad is one of those extremely die-hard conservative trumpers, and a MASSIVE conspiracy theorist (just search up qanon; it'll explain everything i'm about to tell you). he was extremely against me getting the endoscopy, saying that my mom and i didn't mention me getting anesthesia (i did mention multiple times throughout the week before I got it done bc he was so damn worried), and him and my mom fought the morning I got the endoscopy done, just before we left.

when we got back, it was absolute hell for about a week, for my mom and i both. he told me that we betrayed him and that someone 'gave me permission' to not follow his instruction (I am 18 when he tells me this btw). then he said that if my mom and i ever question his rules or instruction again, he'll leave us or, worse, [a threat that i don't feel comfortable sharing here] for a week, he accused me of working for my mom's past sexual abuser, and of things i also don't feel comfortable sharing here. and then a week later, everything is perfectly fine. just like that. i'm used to extremely sudden mood and emotion changes in this family; i've been dealing with it for about a decade now (verbal abuse followed by lots of affection through words and gifts over and over). but this isn't my problem at the moment.

throughout the week, i also told him that i considered surgery for my gerd. he then proceeded to tell me that if i even considered doing that, or whatever the doctors say, i'm a retard, and that i clearly don't need him anymore (bc im not following his instruction) and he'll just leave us. and that we don't need him, we just have to "say the words" and he'll be out. so.

when we got this letter, he kept on saying how dumb and uneducated my doctors are (my dad's a high school drop out btw). i don't exactly remember what he said, but it was something to the effect of me needing to drink more water and eat healthier food, but I told him that's what we started with when i found out I had gerd and IBS 5 years ago, and it did nothing. he stood there, silent, for a solid 10 seconds before saying "......you know antidepressants can change your change you and fuck you up forever, right?". and at that point i just kind of gave up.

also my mom was attempting to explain the letter to my dad in the car ride home from picking her up from work, but she said he kept yelling and interrupting her, and just not listening to any explanationa she had to give; i wasn't there for that part.

but in conclusion: i know i'm 18 and can make my own decisions. i know he can't legally stop me from anything now. but for some stupid, insanely stupid reason, i just subconsciously hold my dad's validation more important than my lifelong health.

i even told my mom about all of this, that i'm stuck between my dad's acceptance and my lifelong health, but i also can't seem to say anything either way that will make him happy. And she just said "we'll you're fucked (with making my dad happy), either way, right? why don't you pick the one that comes with you being healthy?" and that actually straightened it out a bit for me.

but like. i still feel IMMENSE guilt whenever i do something that displeases or angers him even in the slightest. i don't know why im hanging my entire self worth one person, him, and i know just how fucked up it is. but it's like i can't stop. i just... i don't know. the situation just seems to be 'do i take care of myself, and him be angered towards me/leave me, or do i neglect my better judgement for the acceptance of my father?'

so that's what i'm currently dealing with at the moment lmfao. thank you so, so much for the ask, and i'm sorry the response was a college final essay. i sincerely hope with all my heart that today/tonight treats you well. 💞

[robinismywifee]

Back to the Old House - Chapter 7:

September 9th, 2034

[ 4 days after last chapter]

Raines age: 16 years, 6 months

Ellies age: 15 years, 3 months

CW: trouble with eating

Words: 1796

Masterlist

Raines POV:

“So me and Tommy are gonna head out to Joels place for dinner tonight,”

Maria started, I already rolled my eyes. She saw and sighed, placing her fork down, which made a small clanking noise from her glass plate.

"Look, I know you and.."

I watched Marias face as she thought for an extra second if she should say her name.

"Ellie.." she said slowly, watching my expression to see if it was too far or not, I stayed silent, and she continued, "Are not on the best terms.. i'm

not quite sure why or what happened at all, and i'm not sure if i'm allowed to ask you, so I won't, but she clearly-"

"—Can you just get to the fucking point already?"

She pressed her lips together, and nodded. "Right.. well, you're more then welcome to come with me and Tommy. And we would both really appreciate it if you did.." Maria finished

"Look kid, I have a feeling you're gonna be stuck with us for awhile and Joel means alot to the both of us, hes our family, and we might not be family with you, but you're damn near it, and we think it'd be best if you got along with that household, we ain't gonna force you to come along or nothin, but.. we'd love for you to come, even if you don't speak a single word"

Tommy explained his thoughts. I picked at the remainder of my eggs, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

After a moment of awkward silence and glances, I spoke up, "I'm gonna head to Jesses before patrol. Thanks for the food" I got out of my chair, grabbing my bag off the floor, swinging it over my shoulders and left the front door, accidentally slamming it shut from my anger.

I took a deep breath when I existed, feeling the chilly summer morning breeze.

I had woken up almost 3 hours before patrol started and couldnt fall back asleep, so i've been ready for patrol for 2 hours now and I dont leave for another hour. I know I told Maria I was gonna go to Jesses but do I really want to? I mean, I know he would be up by now..

I decided to slowly walk to his house, stalling on knocking on his door. As I walked, I kept on thinking of her. Its like I couldn't even control it, my mind just always fell back to her.

I had gone through the first week of school already, I went the second day to actually learn but kept on going because I was enjoying the art class and Miss Collins' classes.

Everyday I tried my best to ignore Ellie, I also never replied to her paper she passed me, the reason being, I had no idea why. I also didn't know which thing she was referring to, but my guess was that it was about me being nice to her out of the blue and then immediately leaving.

I had no clue why. I just did. It was like my body moved faster then my brain. I don't know why I followed after her or why I gave her my food. I had no idea.

Before I knew it, I was standing infront of Jesses door. I knocked lightly on it.

A minute passed and I heard jogging footsteps, then I heard something fall from the inside and a small- "ow!"

and then, the door opened. "Oh! Hey Raine, oh shoot— is it time to go already?" he asked frantically

"No- no, we still have about 45 minutes, I just.. came early since I had nothing else to do.."

"Oh! that's sick! Miss me already, huh?" Jesse said sarcastically, before he left back inside for a minute, yelling goodbye to his mother, and came back outside, shutting his door, now with his backpack.

"I was just about to head to tipsy bison, wanna come with?"

"Uh, yeah sure, but i'm not gonna eat- I just had breakfast" I quickly explained, he looked at me, a look I couldn't tell what it meant, he then sighed and started walking.

"Well.. suit yourself then" he mumbled, I followed to his side.

Over this week, me and Jesse have gotten alot closer, since anytime I was out I was with him; patrol and school.

It was only a 5 minute walk and we were at the food bar.

People greeted Jesse as usual, but the sound of someone greeting me caught me off guard, until I saw it was Dina and I immediately greeted her back.

"Come sit! I just got here and was waiting for Jesse to show, it's nice to see you with him Raine"

"Oh, thanks Dina.." I hummed, sitting beside Dina with Jesse across

Jesse ordered his food and so did Dina—

"Are you sure you don't want anything? I mean, you never eat lunch at school and I never see you eat breakfast?"

"Oh.. it's nothing, I just prefer to eat at Marias" I shrugged, Dina nodded, believing it.

"Fuck.. it's so freezing this morning.." i hummed to myself, feeling the hairs on my arms lift, and before I knew it, hands were placing a warm fabric around my shoulders. I looked over to see Dina, know not wearing a jacket, and the wool jacket she wore wrapped around me, ontop of my cold leather jacket.

"Oh- Dina, you dont have to-"

"No! Trust me it's fine! Keep it for the day, I was actually starting to sweat" she smiled sweatly

"A- are you sure? I mean, if we run into infected or maybe even people, I could easily stain it.."

"Trust me, I don't care, as long as your comfortable!"

I went to protest again but before I could Jesse and Dinas breakfast was being placed on the table.

I washed my hands of the dirt scraped onto them, and splashed my face with cold water, rubbing my eyes tiredly, turning off the fossett and patting my face dry with a towel.

I looked into the mirror and sighed.

Todays patrol was tiring. We only ran into one clicker, but we also ran into the clicker by both of us falling through the floor of a building and spending an hour on trying to get out.

My legs hurt from how I fell and I gained multiple new cuts and bruises. I had just spent an hour patching myself up and washing my body from the blood and dirt. I had even changed out of my dirty clothes and wore freshly washed ones. All I wanted to do was fall into bed and let my body rest, but I still had to give Dina her jacket back.

I was actually very thankful Dina had lended me her thick wool jacket, because the morning chill had ended up staying the same throughout all patrol and it still was chilly. Even if it was still summer, it was on the cusk of fall, and the autumn weather was starting to show.

I tied on my shoes, and slipped on my jacket, and had Dinas jacket in my arm. I left the empty house— since Maria and Tommy were both still out— and began to walk to Dinas house.

Thankfully, I knew were Dina lived from when we'd walk home from school, and I would see her enter her house.

It was closer to my house then Jesses house was, so it should be a short walk.

As I walked, I made sure to keep a careful eye for her house, alot of the homes in Jackson looked the same and blended together.

I silently cheered to myself when I recognized her house. I walked up to the door and softly knocked, hoping she was home.

I could hear voices from inside but they were from afar and very muffled, I couldn't hear what they were saying or who was saying it, but it sounded like two people breifly aurging.

I knocked again, unsure if the people inside heard me. It was silent for a minute before I heard footsteps, and then a way too familiar voice—

"Why the fuck are you making us get up Jess-"

The door opened and the voice matched the face. She stood with her arms crossed with an annoyed expression on her face, but when her eyes met mine, her face softened and reddened. Her mouth was opened slightly, from how she stopped talking mid sentence.

I could tell that my face was red from the heat flash I suddenly got, I stared into her eyes, my lips slightly parted aswell, and my eyes widened. We both stared at eachother, in a trance.

She was the first to break the eye contact. She seemed to have processed who she was staring at, and immediately looked to the ground, "Uh.." she awkwardly said..

"I.." I started, but felt my voice start to shake, I gulped and looked to the ground, trying to think of what to say, but it was hard when my brain was thinking a million other thoughts all at once.

"Uhm.." She said, still looking down at her feet.

"Wh- Where.. Dina.." I couldn't even make out a complete sentance from how nervous I felt, it felt like I was getting punched in the stomach and kicked in the eye.

"O- oh- right.. uh.. i- ill.. get.... get her" Ellie stuttered, and turned around, the door still half opened, I watched as she faded into the halls.

Why is Ellie at Dinas house?

A minute later, Dina came out. Her face was a bit red and she seemed embarrassed, "Hey- i'm really sorry about that.. we both thought you were Jesse.. uh, what- what did you need?" Dina explained,

"J- just.. wanted to.." I still couldn't complete a sentance, my voice was shakey and my face was burning red. I lifted up Dinas jacket I had in my hand.

"Oh! Right! Yeah- I should have remembered.. thank you.." Dina said, taking it out of my hand.

"Uh- Hey, i'm really sorry I didn't mean to- I- uh- also sorry for not telling you that we're friends with her.. we just didn't want you to.. get nervous or anything.."

Friends? We? So Jesse is too? Is that what Cat meant when she said 'everyone was gonna be there'? Her, Ellie, and Dina? Thats Jesses friend group? And he never fucking told me?

I nodded to Dina. "Kay.. i'm.. i'm gonna go now.." I quickly turned around and sped walked home, not looking back.

———

A/n:

this wasnt proof read, i didnt have time since i just got back to school so sorry if theres mistakes. please gimmie notes and comments and comment to be in taglist:

tags:

@amloury

[homosexual-radio-host]

Rick and Morty/Gravity Falls crossover cause im shipping my two favorite dimension hopping scientists

Part one, repost from my ao3 Ghostly__apparitions

Ford looked up from his work to glance around the bar he was sat in, he wasn't taking any chances on alien booze, but he needed a relatively safe place to work on his tools, weapons to be more precise. He had only been travelling for about five months now, but he hadn't spent much time off of the nightmare realm, so he was still kind of new to all of this. He was still so pissed at his brother, in the deep recesses of his mind he missed him sure, but that part was drowned by pure rage. His thoughts were interrupted when another human- or at least humanoid lab coat wearing guy sat next to him, "First time huh?" The guy asked him in a gravelly voice "H-huh?" Ford stuttered, he hadn't expected him to say anything to him and thus hadn't prepared a response, and was barely paying attention to the initial question "Dimension hopping, is it your first time?" The guy asked taking a swig of his drink.

"Umm.." Ford began eying him suspiciously "Yes ... why?" "Just making conversation sheesh, I mean it's- it's obvious, you look like a kid lost in a mall without his mommy" The man joked "It's that obvious?" Ford asked, calmed slightly by the weird mans joking. "Yea I mean- You know no offense I guess" "Non taken" The two where silent a moment, "Rick by the way, Rick Sanchez" "Oh, Ford Pines, nice to meet you" Ford stuck his hand out for a shake which Rick took, holding on slightly to long "Pleasures all mine" Ford pulled his hand away awkwardly his face reddened "Right- heh ..um so so any tips? To dimension travelling" Ford asked "Oh yea well I've been doing it for years so it comes naturally to me, I just use this bad boy" Rick told him pulling out his portal gun and shooting it as demonstration, Fords eyes widened and turned to Rick "Fascinating, would you mind if I took a look? how does it work?" Ford asked, his eyes lit up.

"Yea sure- just be careful things a fucking hassle to fix" Ford nodded while examining it "Truly fascinating" he muttered "You know which dimension you're from? I'm C-137" Rick asked "Oh yes, I do, I'm dimension 46" "Oh yea I've been there once, had to stop to refuel, weird fucking town, weirder locals" Rick laughed to himself "Ah, that'll probably be Gravity Falls:" Ford chuckled and handed him his portal gun back "Thank you" he said "Yea no- no problem, so what's a guy like you doing here?" Rick asked and Ford shrugged "Long story, But to shorten it I got accidentally thrown through a portal, one I was tricked into making by a demon" Ford replied sheepishly "A demon? Which one, might know em" "Bill Cipher, he's a dream demon" "Oh shit yea I know him, had to implant my family brain with chips once again- against him" "Really? Small worl- er universe ... Multiverse?" Ford responded, then knocked on his head with a clanking sound "I had to get countermeasures too" "Oh damn that's metal as fuck" Rick laughed.

"Hey Rick I'm ready to go now" A child voice came, Rick and Ford turned to see a younger boy in a yellow shirt "Morty not- not now I'm talking- I'm talking to a hot guy Morty can't you see that" Ford turned to lean on the counter and attempt to casually cover his face with his hand cause holy he was not expecting that. Rick turned to him and laughed "Oooh Someone is easy to fluster" he teased poking him obnoxiously in the face and Ford just turned to look more away "Rick stop- stop flirting I have school tomorrow" Morty groaned as Ford desperately attempted to ignore Rick. "Morty schools pointless, I've told you this" "Rick just get his number like a normal fucking person I'm tired" Rick sighed dramatically and turned to Ford again "You even have a phone?" Ford shook his head "uh, no" he replied "See Morty he doesn't have a phone so just- just give me a fucking minute Morty" Morty groaned again and went to sit at a table knowing his grandfather was impossible.

"Sorry about that, grandson, Morty, insufferable little shit sometimes" Ford stopped covering his face "No it's fine, You have a grandchild?" he asked trying to change the topic "Mm, yea two of em, a daughter and ... unfortunately a son in law, what about you?" "No .. I just have a little brother, and parents, also a - a twin brother but he's the reason I'm here" "Well shit, dramatic backstory, sick" Ford grinned awkardly "Yea I guess"

"So did you want- like if you had a phone would you take my number?" Rick asked and Ford flushed again "Um yea- yes I guess" he stuttered out "Good, cool, brb" He responded and left. Ford sat awkwardly fidgeting in his chair, wondering if Rick was even coming back, I mean he had to right? I mean his grandson was still sat there.<"

"Hey-o I'm back sixer!" Rick said tossing a phone at him, Ford looked up at him ignoring the nickname "Where did you even get this?" "Stole it" "Oh" Ford wasn't going to complain about the morality of it, he himself was a wanted criminal. "And here ya go" Rick said handing him his own phone to add to the contacts "Th-thanks" He responded typing in the number and just making the contact name "Rick"

Rick took his phone back "So that phone works across dimensions but you will need to charge it" Rick told him "That's fine, Phones aren't even portable where I'm from" "Yea not- not yet so have fun with that" he chuckled "Rick!" Morty called getting annoyed "Yea yea!" Rick called back "Alright well I gotta- I gotta go now handsome, text me!" Rick told him opening a portal gun, Morty jumped in, Rick reached for Ford's hand and kissed it before jumping in himself. Ford hadn't been given time to respond but probably wouldn't have been able to get any words out anyways.

[i-like-turkey]

heyy, how are you??? I don't know of you're still answering the fanfiction writing asks but there's a few I would like to ask: #2, 18, 20, 21 and 24, if you can and want to answer.

Also I would d*e to see a print of your notes app just because I'm that curious LOL. Love your fics and I'm so happy that you decided to write for kacy ❤️

I'm freezing my ass off on day 2 without heat, but otherwise I'm fucking fantastic. Thanks for asking!

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

Uhhhhhhhhhhh???? I guess my sorta twisted sense of humor and the fact that my mind is always in the gutter? I think all the smut is attributable to my 13 months of pandemic celibacy. I never had to think too much about sex before that cause I had a pretty active social life. Then the longer my isolation period lasted, the longer I was forced to spend inside my head with my memories and idk it's hard to explain and will quickly get into TMI territory, but I don't think I could be as descriptive or imaginative if I hadn't spent so much time alone.

18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

It depends. I have a mind that needs to verify information and find sources and know everything and that can get exhausting when it leads to me researching stuff for a fic that I don't really need to research. So I'd say I don't enjoy when that happens. But big aspects of my fics where accuracy is important, I do enjoy the research for that.

So far Throw Pillows required the most research. Law School Au is quickly going to blow that away. I've already got footnotes in my draft cause I'll be including cases. So... 🤓😂

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Canon-ish is probably my favorite. I do like playing within the canon sandbox, but then taking obvious liberties. So my canon smut series is something I'm really enjoying.

21. Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

One-shots. And I'm including the handful of 2 chapter fics in those cause I only split those to give y'all something early and because people have said they prefer chapter breaks to getting 20k on a page. But I like those because I can write them in 1-2 weeks and be done with them.

Throw Pillows was mentally taxing for a few reasons. I had some weird stuff happening in my ask box with it. I guess that's what happens when you tackle a lengthy WIP. It was almost enough to dissuade me from ever writing something that long again. But then they had to make Kate an attorney and now I will probably suffer some more of the mentally taxing bs as I slowly roll that fic out.

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

It all comes down to the purpose of the fic and whose viewpoint/inner dialogue will serve that purpose best. In my canon smut, I've been trying to balance POVs. But I often default to Kate because Lucy is more of mystery canon wise and I'm worried about making assumptions about her past that could get Jossed in the future. So in the 2x06 fic when I wanted to write her as being super upset about something, I chose Kate because then I didn't have to figure out what she was so damn upset about.

And then in 'What's His Name?' it had to be in Lucy's POV because I needed to make it clear that she was worried about Kate and going along with the plan because she loves Kate. It would have been difficult to get across her genuine acceptance of the scheme had I gone with Kate and written something that would have been 10000% more cracky cause Kate's mind throughout it would have been a non-stop rambling anxious monologue.

Speaking of rambling, I shall shut up now and get back to 2x07 smut.

P.S. my notes app is my brain. If anyone ever got into that I'd die.

[boyfhee]

hmm, jay fic?? write it and you shall submit. i will be waiting for it, hehe. even i want to start a writing account for enha but i dont know what to post first T_T i have a text au and a headcanon, tell me which one should i post first :0

hope your bro does well in his 10th ✌🏼 tell him to not waste these next months, but hasnt the difficulty level for 10th graders decreased too?? i hate this education system. for us, 70% of syllabus was removed and people say you guys didn't write the exams 😭

hanuman chalisa haha, even if i have god by my side. i would be scared too. lmao how can a jaw chase her... noo that is so funny 😂 i mean i cant handle the smell of rotten food and what would i or you do with cadaver 🥲 i dont know. i regret everyday that why i havent chosen bipc 😔

i know apathorax from arjun reddy movie 😶 is it what it is?? help i dont even remember. isnt it beside the chest of a human?? the flesh part?? tell me tell me. well i havent been interested into coding but i need to start to learn how to code.

since you said you have coded, tell me the basic coding languages i need to know + how your teachers taught you caelin! i badly want tips to learn. like i have so many reels saved on my ig about coding + tips

same pinch, but i have been stanning them since on era and i think i was a hardcore fan until they dropped butter. i lost interest because same, their music started to change and started concentrating on the west. soo, i used to love the old bts caelin :(

hell no!!! when i used to watch yuzuru hanyu skating videos, i got into figure skating and then random videos used to pop up, even i used to know sunghoon before he debuted 🥲 i didnt watch like all of his performances but watched the best ones in his career ^^ he grew up so well.

yup!!! when fever was dropped, engenes knew it was a banger. damn it everyone on twitter asked whose song was this and engenes were like, huhu its enhypen \(^_^)/ hooray hahga. even i agree with you fever was and is the best bside i have ever heard from them.

this already long so i will continue in the next ask :3

— lover club anon <33

jay fic was posted, i hope it reached you well ^^ also, good luck with starting a writing account omg .. you can start with texts since they are a quick read and attract more audience !!! however, headcanons aren't bad either ... it really is your choice :O

i will tell him to do well in 10th, although he wastes all his time playing valo / forza horizon TT i don't know how easy or difficult the school exams have gotten, i've been so out of the loop ever since i graduated >< hope your sister does well too in boards ^_^

and omg bipc is fun but i'm sure pcm is just as interesting :O you have a fear of blood and needles so maybe you weren't meant for the OT but rather for doing other big things in like ... let's be positive !!! also, i think you mean apothorax ?? it's part of thorax containing heart and lungs ^^ i was studying about mediastinum today .. it's too much to take in. there's so much information and so little space in my brain .. sometimes i wonder if i will be able to remember all the things _ _;

also, i studied coding in highschool so i don't know how helpful my tips will be for college since you're definitely going to learn much much more there :O i think html css is basic and important ( for example, tumblr's who website theme and post format is based on html css ) javascript, python are important too since they're in demand. i'm afraid we didn't learn a lot in school except what was in theory .. didn't have many lab sessions and the most we did was python and html css since that was the main focus ( i hate python like whatever the hell that is ... )

i also started with hanyu !!! and then came across cha junhwan, yuna kim, ilia malinin and all though the international tournaments and all. i remember being so interested in fs, i watched the 4cc tournaments during classes TT i actually came across sunghoon through junhwan, watched his videos and then moved on like .. i didn't see him at the competitions so i thought he quit :O never looked him up for me to know he was a trainee / idol

AND YEAH fever is truly the queen, i can never get tired of it. border : carnival in itself is an amazing album. what's your fav album of them so far? fav b-side and title tracks? i need to know ><

[stargazing-and-peoplewatching]

a collection of lyrics that make me think of someone else

i think it's time to go now i think my curtain's falling just don't forget about me when you get out of college if it's my final album and if i am forgotten i hope i made you smile that's all i ever wanted

both my current college friends who are already graduating next year and my old high school friends who i feel like i'm falling out of touch with. i have this,, fascination with being forgotten, you'll see.

am i ready for love? or maybe just a best friend should there be a difference do you have instructions? maybe i'm stuck on what i see on tv i grew up on disney but this don't feel like disney

i love you, angel. i'm not going to leave, but god this lyric plays through my brain every other day. i knew how hard this would be and it still knocked me off my feet. i'm going to keep trying.

maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories a hundred good stories make me interesting at parties

i miss you. you introduced me to ajr and this was the first song you showed me. you thought it fit sylvie and the time, and i think it fits you now. i wonder where you are. i hope you're okay.

and i took a job for just july but feels like i might be here for life yeah, i'm in it now, i'm in it now could i start again somehow? ... so i spent last night blowing up my life now you won't see me again cheers to the front, and cheers to the back and cheers to the 2010s i could hate my guts when the sun comes up but i like myself like this i like myself like this

this is for the same person as the last one. i remember you saying how you liked this song when the album came out. you had that shitty taco bell job over the summer and i haven't really heard from you since. we still wish you happy birthday. we leave posts for you like leaving a light on for when you come back. i would get it if you don't though. maybe you're figuring out how to move on. know we love you.

two months since you got back how have you been and are you bored yet? ... that makes a lot of sense this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation ... time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing i stopped caring 'bout a month ago since then it's been smooth sailing i would leave if only i could find a reason i'm mean because i grew up in new england i got dreams but i can't make myself believe them spend the rest of my life with what could've been and i will die in the house that i grew up in i'm homesick

you don't like noah kahan. i associate you with this song because when it came on at 2am you said you don't listen to him because his songs would be too real for you. you flipped off my laptop at the chorus. that night we talked about how we tried to get out of our childhood spaces. that's the easiest way i can put it, because nyc doesn't really count as a hometown, does it?

are you tired of me yet? i'm a little sick right now but i swear that when i'm ready i will fly us out of here

nowadays i only go to you when i don't have anyone else to talk to. i try not to, you deserve better than that. yknow you were probably the first transmasc person i ever met. you matter so much to me and you were a lifeline and we don't really talk anymore. it's probably my fault. back when we were younger, back when i didn't know how to play the ukulele, you played and i sang and that was the first interaction i remember having. i kept trying to recreate it. that last time didn't feel the same.

so can i call you tonight? i'm trying to make up my mind just how i feel could you tell me what's real anymore? i hear your voice on the phone now i know i'm not alone just how i feel could you tell me what's real anymore? cause i wouldn't know.

it feels crazy, i feel crazy thinking i've lost a dozen people to distance and time. you all are right there but it doesn't feel the same anymore. we're all growing up and we don't have the time anymore. yknow, i'm thinking of doing my old experiment again. i could. and then maybe i'd feel close to you guys again. i miss staying up with you all. now i just do it alone.

we were tight knit boys, brothers in more than name you would kill for me and i knew that i'd do the same and it cut me sharp hearing you'd gone away but everything goes away, yeah, everything goes away but i'm gonna be here till i'm nothing but bones in the ground and i was there when you grew restless left in the dead of night and i was there when three months later you were standing at the door all beat and tired and i stepped aside

i think about those characters we made once. you were the murderer and i was the ghost. the days when we were the closest pair feel like forever ago, and if i said it like that, you'd probably say it's both of our fault. that i can't be mad that i also let our friendship fall through. it is my fault, isn't it. every duo i write is what i wanted us to be. i miss you. i thought we'd stick by each other's side forever. i know it's my fault.

[lilacastar]

KDA 19: Meantime

"When you became different," 5K began.

His breath paused, holding the smoke in longer than he would have normally.

"I knew something- I..."

Kalrick waited patiently, not rushing the stumbling words. 5K looked down, away from where his dark eyes stared.

"Do you remember Allison?"

"Your sister, yeah." She'd graduated before all of them, so his memory wasn't especially clear. But he seemed to remember her dropping by every once in a while.

"Yeah, she died."

"Oh." He re-situated the red cup in his hands, but it didn't help with any tension. "I'm so sorry. This probably isn't your first time telling me."

"It is actually. It happened when you started getting really busy, and those symbols got inked on you." He nodded at Kalrick's wrists. "You were really distracted and not around often. Didn't really have the time or emotional energy to bother you."

"I wish I could have been there for you, though."

"It is what it is." He shrugged. "But you know me. I've always had... Substance ish- issues. Allison had a blood clot we didn't know about. She hit her head and killed her pretty much instantly, nothing we could do about it."

"But you can control what goes in your body." Kalrick could already feel where it was going.

"Yeah," He nodded. "I've had addiction issues since- fuck, I don't even know how long. I started using in middle school but it didn't become a problem till later. I felt in control of the coke, acid, ecstasy. I guess her dying was all it took for it to- to go out of control. I picked up heroin."

Kalrick couldn't make eye contact with him any longer. If he had been there, been present... But he wasn't. He could've helped pick him back up. No one was there to care for him.

"I blew all my money but even that didn't stop me."

"What did?" He gestured back at him. "I mean, you're ok and still here."

"I died, Kalrick. I overdosed, and it flat lined me for over 5 minutes."

He couldn't tell if it was the smoke or the weight of 5Ks words that made his head dizzy. If he had just been there, but he wasn't.

"My brain got derived- deprived of oxygen and gave me anoxic brain injury. The dose that kicked me was laced with fentanyl, and I have permeant brain damage. Mostly just gives me tremors and concentration problems. Sometimes I lose my words."

"Damn, I don't know what to say. I've sort of jumped back in and made everything about me. If I can help at all just tell me what."

He shook his head. "You don't need to do anything, promise. Just time will help. They say you can recover for years now, when they used to think it was in the first 6 months."

"Man, but I feel like if I was around I could have gotten you help sooner."

"Don't say that, I did some disappointing things to get better. You're the one who deserved better, cause I'm the one who got help in the end. I got rehab, and you got taken advantage of"

"Then lets not think about it. We're here after all, might as well be present now."

"I can second that."

The door knocked, disrupting their conversation.

"Come on in!" 5K shouted.

Randle entered, shuffling through to where they sat.

"Smells like a hotbox in here," He coughed. "Kalrick, how did you even get here?"

"Teleported." Kalrick nodded.

"Then why can't you teleport to wherever it is you need me to take you?"

"Cause it's exhausting and thought it'd be a great bonding experience. I also can't go places alone and don't ask me to explain but only certain places are teleport-able."

"Is this what you do all day?" He gestured to 5K. "I don't think I've ever seen you go to work, which is where I just came from."

"I'm on disability, not that it's any of your business." 5K rolled his eyes.

"You're right, it's not my business. I'm just tired."

"You don't have to help if you're tired," Kalrick said. "I just thought we all were in this now. And I don't know, it feels good to hang out again. We used to research this type of stuff all the time."

"We did," Randle gazed reminiscently. "I haven't picked that stuff up in a long time though."

"There's nothing you practice? Or I don't know, work with or research?"

"Not really. Kal, I like astrology. Like, reading my horoscope or getting my palm read. Demons, spells, tarot- I liked doing that with you specifically."

"Oh."

Kalrick found himself unable to fathom this information. It seemed like that stuff was all they did together. It always seemed like Randle was having a good time and enjoying himself.

"Well," Randle crossed his arms, looking down at them. "Are we going to follow your lead or keep smoking weed on the couch?"

"I could smoke some more." 5K remarked.

"Let's get started," Kalrick gathered his bag.

"Where did you have in mind?" Randle asked.

"Honestly, I don't know which tattoo place I hit up. I was just going to go to all the nearest ones until I found the one someone named Valery works at."

"Why not just call them and ask?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess I didn't think of that."

"I guess you still have use for me after all."

"I've always had use for you. I like being around you."

He turned to the door. "Let's just get going."

But Kalrick could've sworn he saw the edge of a smile.

[dzpenumbra]

2/20/23

It is a welcome relief to be able to finally say, after this hell of a month, that today was a good day. It had its tough moments, of course, but all-in-all, it was good.

I started the day with a shoulders and neck focused yoga routine, which was difficult in different ways than the usual full-body one, but overall was much less exhausting. It was a welcome change of pace. I can't believe I'm creeping up on 2 months of doing yoga every day. It feels like it's going to be similar to this journal if I keep pace, where it actually feels weird to not do it. They say all you need is 60 days to develop a lasting habit... Whoever "they" are.

I decided to do some breathing meditation after, which actually was... mildly successful. My brain was much more quiet this morning, yoga really helps with that when it grabs my focus, and once my brain is in yoga-mode, I really think that helps with meditation.

I ran out of energy drinks. I know, boo hoo. XD I decided to try chai instead this morning. It was good, it was just a bit watery for my taste, I don't really know how to make it properly yet. And... I drank like 3/4 of it and then just completely spaced out for an hour and a half. Like... that time just melted away. YouTube, of course, but like... it felt like 20 minutes or something.

My brother texted, he said he was home alone with his kid and his dog and invited me to come and keep them company, then do this takeout thing he was looking forward to when his wife got home. I was nervous. I don't know why, it was just... there. I stalled on getting back to him until after yoga, then let him know I could be there in an hour. He said it was cool whenever, and that's when the time just... disappeared. I was eating, and I've been eating really slow lately, so that was probably it. So I showered quick and swung over there, grabbing an energy drink along the way because... I was just... not really with it. Like I pulled my debit card early with the chip reader and everything, like I was just kinda on autopilot, so I justified going with the energy drink. I need to be mindful of tapering down on caffeine, not just cutting it out. Because my tolerance is very high, my regular intake is pretty damn high at an energy drink every day, and the effects of coming off of caffeine affect more than just my physical, it's like... cognitive and quality of life too. So... slow is steady, steady is fast. The Navy SEAL approach to cutting down on caffeine... XD

Before I left... I finally watched a video that my sister in law recommended, to show me... I'm already getting uncomfortable typing this, brace for it... the dog training philosophy they are down with. And... it made me uncomfortable. This has a bit of a backstory and I don't want to go too deep into it because it's really emotional for me, but I'll try and see how it goes. I always grew up with German Shepherds, and they've all been the sweetest, most lovely dogs. Every one of them. But my mom and a friend of hers she met when I was in middle school, who trained dogs, were really into like... competitive obedience training? Like... super into it. And I still don't really know why? Like... for protection, I guess? But like... I don't know, it's weird. It was just a part of my life since I was like 11, so I never really questioned it until recently. And my older brother is the same way, I guess, but he's... 3 years older than me... and still hasn't questioned it... And this obedience training, and protection training, was like... police dog training. Like military training kinda shit. And I've seen a lot of people doing it. And, to be fair, it's definitely effective, and impressive. But, if I'm being honest, a lot of the methods... I find unethical. This is the uncomfortable part, the part that turns my stomach a bit and sets off a bunch of trauma responses. Because I had a German Shepherd too. For 10 years. And she was trained before I got her, and I worked to train her as well on top of that, because she was supposed to serve as an actual service dog for me. And, for a while, did. My mom really insisted on it, she thought it would help me. (It actually ended up really throwing my life off and restricting my living/activity options, to be honest, but I loved my dog to death. Still do.)

For like... 7 years? I treated her... unfairly. And harshly. Not just in methodology, like shutting her in a crate for long periods of time and using an electric collar. I absolutely cringe and shudder when I type that now, but electric collars in my household were very normalized, and I... they make me deeply uncomfortable now. This is getting hard to write, so I'm going to kinda wrap up on this a little. For the last several years of her life, after gaining clarity and perspective, after connecting with her on a very very deep level, as a peer. As a friend, as a family member. I made up for it. I gave her an amazing, free, joyful, playful life. And I am so fucking glad I did. I threw her electric collar in the trash, I disassembled her crate permanently. I got her pretty bandanas to wear, and comfy pink collars. I let her wander off leash more often. I shared ice cream with her. I trusted her more, and we connected as friends. Not "master" and... well... animal servant? Trying to find a civil term for it.

Okay, that's enough for now, I'm tearing up. I'm telling this as context because... the animal trainer guy that my sister in law mentioned, that I looked up on YouTube before I went over? On the first page of videos, there was a video that was called something like "Building your dog's working drive by using social isolation as a learning tool." And my fucking heart sank. Like... Fuck. Like... dude. What? 1) working drive? Talk about buzz words, okay. Are we talking about like... slaves here? Just replace the word "dog" with "slave" and it starts to get really fucking uncomfortable. And I'd like to think it's not the fact that we were doing those actions to people that was the problem, it was the actions themselves. The treatment itself. That the treatment of another being in that way is something... not okay. But... we don't think about it that way when it comes to other species. Most don't at least.

So... why not? Like... okay, before going on huge tangents here, let me simplify and be direct. The ethical problem with using social isolation as a motivational tool for humans is because... it's traumatizing, it's like... actually a form of torture. And it causes pain and emotional distress as a form of punishment, and then the rebound effect of being reintroduced to social stimuli (let out of solitary confinement) is a massive positive boost. So you beat the shit out of the dog emotionally, and then when it comes back and gets that gigantic sugar cookie of a dopamine hit when it's finally free? You're there to connect that reward energy boost (that "working drive") to... discipline. Education. Obedience.

And why is this problematic with dogs? Well. Dogs are incredibly social animals, so much that they socialize with other species, it's why we domesticated them. And they are very emotional, and socially bond very deeply. Again... why we domesticated them. So... all the harmful things that are reasons why it's not okay to lock Jeff from Sales in a closet for 2 hours because he's not hitting quarterly quotas? The emotional distress, the trauma. Dogs feel those too. They are absolutely emotional animals, and... that's what started to make me feel really fucking guilty at an obscenely deep level... that changed my world view forever. The main justification I hear is... "dogs are much more... simple-minded than that." Right?

So what does that mean? It's not that they don't experience emotions. It's not that they don't think thoughts, or process pain or fear or any of that. They experience depression, they experience anxiety, they experience trauma and trauma responses. Manipulating these systems is literally how that style of training is intended to work. The fact that the training is effective is proof that trauma has a profound, noticeable effect on dogs. The difference in animal thinking and ours is... I like to compare it to... the difference between a child's thinking and our thinking. In some ways. A child's thoughts are much more simple and experiential, adults tend to be more complex and layered. I think an adult dog can learn and remember a lot of things, so they have a big pool of memory resources to dip into, but I firmly believe that they still experience the world similar to a young child. Just... with much less articulate verbal expression. So they can present as smarter than a young child in some ways, because they have that experience and memory bank to dip into, but I think they still experience life and think in less complex ways than adult humans.

So... using social isolation to motivate working drive... on a creature that has very clear emotional processing, can absolutely process and remember trauma, and has the experiential capacity of like... a 4 year old? And we shut them in a cage for 3 hours, and half the time they don't even know why? And then use the big "holy fuck, I'm finally free!" endorphin rush to... build excitement to go and do choreographed obedience exercises? That doesn't sound like man's best friend to me. It sounds like Stockholm Syndrome. It sounds like... it could go wrong at any moment. Like all it would take is the dog one day going "I'm fucking sick of this shit" and then they either bolt or start saying "no" to you.

And on the drive to my brothers house, I was ranting this shit at the fucking windshield of my rental car as I was driving down the highway, over the loud music even. I almost turned around. I was really upset. And I know. I KNOW. I can't bring it up. I can't say anything. And that dog, he's so damn sweet. He's just a kid! He's only two, he's a huge bundle of energy, he loves playing so much. But he's still learning, he gets a bit carried away and nippy, which is a very puppy thing. He's super gentle with it, I have not even once been concerned. But my brother definitely freaks out. I tried to be... subtle with my suggestions. I said I had a cat, and one of the first things I had to train Cerry was "gentle". It's a weird one that no one really ever brought up with me. The commands I was told you need to teach your dog were always... commands. Like... down, sit, here, out, stuff like that. But I had to teach my dog to be mindful of... how much she's putting into things. So I would teach her "slow" and "fast". I would teach her "gentle" and "rough". Degrees, gradients. And she knew the difference. And if she was getting too rough because we were dog-playing and she's a dog and I'm a soft-skinned kinda-hairless ape... I would just lock eyes and go "shh... gentle... gentle..." and once she really processed it, she would do it every damn time. And eventually, she even learned when and where to be gentle and where it was okay to play a bit rougher. I think it's SUPER important to teach that. Then they're not just looking to you all the time, and if you're not right there and they don't know what to do then.... what? They do nothing? Or they use their own judgement when they never were taught how to meter that? It seems like a dangerous situation, honestly. And I often see dogs teaching each other that in play. Like "fuck off, you're playing too rough". But we have the advantage of language, and it provides a big edge.

He didn't seem... too receptive to it. I'm unfortunately a bit used to that. I feel like everyone I meet is fucking skeptical of my advice. And it hurts. And it feeds my depression and anxiety like crazy. I hesitate to even share advice, because it's like... what's the point? I'm either going to offend and get yelled at, or they're just going to nod and smile and the second I leave go "yeah, not doing that dumb shit." It's frustrating, but, you know, you do your best.

And... yeah. I don't wanna dwell only on the negative but I'm kinda processing it right now. When my sister in law came home... she went down to take a shower, and at some point just put the dog in the crate. And over dinner, like half an hour later? Maybe an hour later? She explained that he had eaten my nephew's diaper. Like... not the entire diaper, just like... the contents... and some of the fabric, I guess? And my immediate response was like... yep, pretty much, that's life. I think my direct quote was "oh, he must be hungry." And they just went a completely different direction. My brother was like "oh my god, is he sick, is he going to die?" And my sister in law was like... she just seemed upset that he got into something. And I was just like... he's a dog. Who cares. He disposed of a diaper for you. If he pukes then that's no good. The wipes or whatever it was on that he ate is like... guaranteed to pass right through him. And I wanted SO BADLY to share my story of how I came home one day and found that my dog had eaten 7 out of 8 of my moon phase prayer flags. These flags were about 7-8 inch squares each. They must've smelled good or something, I don't know. But she somehow ate them all. And shit them out whole. It was a sight to see, because some of them were still connected! They were made of fucking cloth, she was 100% fine, but at the time I was worried, sure. But like... it's literally fiber. And if it were bad, bad... like a blockage or something? She would be making all kinds of noise.

Unfortunately for that sweet boy, he was left in the crate for a good 2+ hours for that transgression. And I... was very upset by this. Very upset. And every time I went by his crate, I would reach over and reassure him in the kindest, most subtle way I could. I didn't say anything about it. I don't know how I could. It felt similar to like... feeling compelled to tell my parents to get vaccinated. Or wanting to tell my former "best friend" that it made me super uncomfortable when she trained her daughter to send herself to timeout in her room, where she cried and screamed and had no idea why she was there, all the while my "best friend" was narrating to me and explaining the advantages of teaching a 7 year old (I think) how to punish their self. Fucking Twilight Zone shit. When I see things like that. I genuinely don't know what to do. And my PTSD kicks in and says "you are not fucking safe, if you speak up you will be attacked." It's just Red Alert on the Enterprise D, shields up.

So... I just... held my tongue... and made it up to him (the dog) later. I played with him as much as I could, and just made sure to vocally normalize his behaviors, like eating crumbs off the floor and stuff like that. Like "man, I miss having a living vacuum cleaner, made cleanup so much easier! Compost, too!" You know, bring a little light to it. Show that they aren't going to be judged for "not having a well trained dog", that whole bullshit, and that it's cool and we don't have to stress the small stuff.

I just don't know how to engage in those situations. It's confrontation, I guess. But... I don't know if it's the times? Or just me, being depleted of confidence and being trained to expect violent retaliation to like... any critique or disagreement... I don't know what it is. But it just. It doesn't feel safe. And... I hate that others have to suffer because I'm not brave enough to speak up. But at the same time... I feel like me speaking up... gets me kicked out, or not taken seriously, and in the end doesn't even save the victim. In the end, it almost does more damage, it almost eliminates the chance of change.

In the end, you can't change people. You can't make someone stop yelling at their kid. You can call child services when things cross a line or something, but they can only do so much. You just... try to gently guide them? And show them the other side? And hope they can see it? I think? I don't know.

My mind keeps going back to the Jedi. I always thought they were lame and pompous, smug, when I was a naïve younger man. Some of them kinda were, I guess, but like... not the way I thought. I was - and kinda still am - more pro-Grey Jedi. Sith obviously just... they're just self-indulgent. Like the cliche of Satanists, it's almost hedonistic, it's like violence for the sake of pleasure, power for the sake of pleasure, like just chasing a fucking high or something. But the sterility and emotionlessness and chastity of the Jedi always felt like... paranoid. Like it wasn't really necessary if your self-discipline practices were actually working! XD Which is ironic, that the pure, emotionless, still-minded Jedi would be so driven by Fear, of all emotions... knowing just how dangerous it is. It was like... their #1 biggest motivator, and ultimately their downfall. But yeah, I've always been leaning somewhere in the middle. Use your emotions, tap into them, embrace them, get to know them. But don't let them rule you. Find that equilibrium.

I got on to this because - I was trying to figure out how I got on this tangent XD - I was thinking of like... how would a Jedi handle this situation. They see mistreatment, and... it's family. And you know that going "hey, look, he just ate some baby shit, it's not the end of the world. He can come out and chill with us now, right?" even if it's friendly, even if it's civil, even if it's casual... it's kinda... persuasive. It's a little manipulative. And I honestly don't know where to draw the line on that. Is it really my place to disagree with that? To intervene? It is advocating for someone who can't advocate for their self. But it's also kind of a Jedi Mind Trick, which... to be frank... I've always wondered how the Jedi were ethically okay with... XD You're like the embodiment of justice and defending good and freedom, and you go around literally planting thoughts into everyday peoples' brains to manipulate them towards your intentions. Oh, sorry, we call it "influencing" now, my bad...

So yeah, clearly conflicted there.

Besides that... which I honestly just needed to get out of my system... It was a really good time. My nephew is a riot! He's having some vision problems, but he's being a real trooper adjusting to it. He's a great kid, and I miss and love being around kids. I'm very grateful to have the opportunity to live this close to him. My brother and sister in law were both exhausted. We connected, shared stories, it was nice. I talked about a few of my art project ideas, and they both seemed very intrigued and supportive of them, which was... new. It was a bit alien. I usually get yawns or eye rolls, but they seemed genuinely interested. My brother brought up sleep paralysis that he had recently, and I got a nice opportunity to share my insight on sleep and dreams, since that was a huge focus of study for me for ages. For so long that I actually have to remind myself that other people know very little about sleep and dreams, because of how normalized my research has been.

But I found out some interesting stuff about my brother too, that he has a very vivid imagination but it functions in a way similar to mine... aphantasia for the most part, until right on the edge of sleep or super sleep deprived, then super damn vivid. It seems like he's a bit more... polar, in that respect. And I'm a bit median. I can visualize things... somewhat? Sometimes? Not really, but kinda. Hard to describe. But my extremes don't seem to be as vivid as his. I don't know, I'm speculating, but it was interesting, especially since we're related. It's not a conversation I get to have often, and it's fun to learn about someone else and myself at the same time.

I'm hitting a lot of typos now, I'm getting really tired. So yeah, they gave me a table which is awesome, I have it here now. I stopped at a gas station and got ice cream on the way back, treating myself for not turning that car around and for being really committed and strong today. It was well worth it.

Bed time. Glad I processed all that. I don't have a conclusion, but I know very well why I feel the way I do, and I don't feel bad for feeling that way. That, in itself, is super helpful and a big part of why I journal.

[heraldtim]

ADHD

So, as has happened every time I try to start a journal, diary, blog, whatever... I write one or two posts, and then I disappear for a long time. Here I am, back from the disappearing. I am trying quite deliberately to not disappear any more.

My bio-kids both have ADHD-- diagnosed and under treatment. (My step-kids probably have it too.) A couple of months ago, my 16-year-old said, "Dad, I think you have ADHD too," and he rattled off the many, many traits and habits I have which point in that direction. I think he was right.

I already had an appointment for neuro-psych testing planned, and we included ADHD stuff. That was 7 hours of tests which I took across two days this past week, and totally brain-frying. I don't have "official" results yet, but it seems clear that I'm checking all of the right boxes for ADHD. There are habits and traits that I've had since childhoood. There are some things that I see now were coping mechanisms for manifestations of ADHD. I was very outgoing up through kindergarten, but then I specifically became much more introverted, because my father would become angry if I was "acting out" or being too loud, or inappropriate in whatever other way he felt was applicable. I never had the "hyperactive" part of ADHD, because I was madly suppressing it for my own survival.

That was the 1980s. As I am rapidly learning, the medical profession's understanding of ADHD is alarmingly thin. Back then, it was just ADD, which is sort of ironic, because the definiting characteristic was: (mostly) boys who were out-of-control hyperactive. Until the mid 1990s (what??) many physicians still stated publicly that ADHD did not exist and was simply an excuse for poor parenting and bad behavior. Until the 90s? WTF???

Since my son "diagnosed" me, things have been incredibly difficult in ways that are almost comically typical ADHD manifestations. All the stuff with which ADHD patients often struggle over the course of their lives, I seem to have piling up on me in the last few weeks (in addition to recovering from surgery, and trying to homeschool one chronically ill child who is current sleepint 12-16 hours a day and only has half a brain the rest of the time).

Trying to rearrange my office-- rearranging furniture has always made me happy, and it turns out ADHD brains really like those kind of changes (as long as they are forewarned). Where did i put the power cord for this, that, and the other thing when I took them all off the desk to move it? Why won't the damned computer recognize this stupid monitor instead of that one? I should never have started this, the project is too big and I'm too week/crazy/disorganized/full-of-back-pain/depresed/etc. I literally had the old "I can't even do this simple thing. See how useless I am? Everyone would be better off if I were dead" thought this afternoon.

I am going to a massage-- it's a luxury that I'm going to have to quit, or at least cut down on, with a quarter of my income gone. I'm counting down the days until I no longer have to pay alimony. Unfortunately, that will be right about the time that my bio-kids turn 18, finish high school, and head out on their own (if they want to... I mean, I'm not going to kick them out, at least not immediately). So... I'll have the money to do all the things I always wanted to do with them, right when they leave me. That's another train of thought that's leading me to the "better off dead" station.

I really have been very non-depressed over the last few months. My therapist actually suggested we "discharge" me from her care, since I was doing so well. What changed? Why is everything suddenly so hard?

I will write more soon. I know this is just a rambling mess. The purpose is just to get all of the (crazy ADHD) thoughts out of my head and written down so my kids, and hopefully their kids and so on, can maybe find something useful or helpful in it. So maybe when I die, I can leave behind a little something.

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

Sunset till Sunrise

Requested 

pairing: JJ Maybank x shy!reader

status: friendss 

disclaimer: jumpscares, slight drowning, language, NOT PROOF READ 

A.N: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. hope you guys enjoy this one :) ALSO this fic will be edited soon!

II REQUEST FORM II NAVIGATION ||

                         it was a pretty normal monday; i cleaned my room, did some laundry, and now im finishing up my english homework. i was solely focused on the worksheet infront of me, my headphones blaring all types of music to cheer me up, coz school can sometimes get pretty depressing, when i heard a soft thud. i turned around to see someone at mid-lunge trying to rip my heart alive. 

"AHH" i shrieked so loudly the attacker took a huge step away from me, covering their ears, and immediately hit their head on the shelf of the opposite wall muttering a hurt "ow". at this point my headphones were thrown away from how fast i flinched.

the room was dead silent, only my rapid breaths and faint music was heard. quickly, i started searching for a weapon when i came across my blue pen. i opened it and swiftly turned around positioning my pen to the intruder. 

"damn, y/n. didn't know you could scream that lou- HEY!" before he could say anything else the pen was already thrown at him. it took me a second to process that his voice belonged to my best friend. 

"JJ?!?" 

"fuck, YES ITS ME." he rasped, one hand on his head while the other one was on his left eye brow. 

. . . 

i didn't expect my afternoon would be nursing my best friend who i unintentionally hit in the eye and head. 

"ah ah o-ow, y/n/n. ow ow" JJ  hissed carefully taking my hand, that was gently dabbing alcohol away from the infected wound. the jackass did scare the shit out of me but i felt extremely bad for what happened; i obviously didn't mean for him to hit his head. 

"stop swatting my hand away! i have to clean it before it gets infected, dumbass" i spoke with a hint of edge in my voice. 

"relax, y/n. nothing happened its just a little scratch" he smiled reassuringly, immediately picking up on my level of of distress. i sighed deeply and checked it once more. 

"something worse could've happed, J. you know how dangerous head injuries are? you could've had a concussion for god's sake!" i said, my voice going a few pitches higher - a sign that im gravely concerned, and of course he noticed. 

"hey-" JJ turned around so he could face me. he placed a hand on the bed we were sitting on for support, and the other on my shoulder rubbing small circles for comfort. "im okay" he tilted his head, smiling. making my stomach drop and heart flutter. it was no secret i had a crush on the infamous JJ Maybank. i mean how could i not?

he was kind, sweet, and...fun. i can't remember a time i've laughed harder than i have with JJ. JJ and i've been friends since we were in diapers, it was only when he turned nine he moved to the outer banks. but our parents still kept in contact so we'd occasionally see eachother in spring breaks or summer. fast forward to many years later, my parents decided to move there. it's been a few months and im loving every single minute of it. 

i've always thought JJ was cute. but i was a kid then, obviously, i didn't act on it. but now its all i've been thinking about it. i just wanna tell him how i feel but with the feelings, come shyness, and nervousness. i can't speak a single word without freaking out over the way he's looking at me. that's why i would randomly stutter or stumble with my words and i'd cringe everytime. 

"y/n?" i snapped my head to his direction 

"yeah?" 

"what's your pretty little brain thinking about" he murmured, a refreshing shade of bright blue observing my every move. SEE WHAT I MEAN? HE'S GIVING ME THE EYES-

"uhh..the beach!" 

"really?! wanna go?" he offered, his smile growing into a huge grin but it didn't quite reach his eyes yet. one thing you need to know about JJ is that he LOVES the beach, the ocean in general, to the point where i wished he'd think about me as many times as he'd think about surfing. the beach was like his other half, and it was incredibly satisfying to see him light up from the mention of the place. 

"yeah, i'd love that." as long as i get to spend time with you. and there it was. he smiled like crazy, eyes and all, and dragged me to the window.

"LET'S GO-"

"WAIT-" i spoke and the boy immediately stopped, he gave me a quizzical look before scanning my face to see any discomfort."y-your head." i subconsciously stepped forward and rubbed the small band aid "are you sure you feel okay? no dizziness or anything?" i asked, concerned. JJ groaned in irritation but i could tell he was joking, coz his stupid smile couldn't leave his beautiful face. 

"i told you already, y/n, i'm fine. now let's go!" 

"you know girls say fine when they're not fine, right?" 

"what?" and just like that his face was like a troubled puppy.

. . . 

third POV

y/n and JJ managed to arrive at the beach in record time. it was all JJ's fault because he 'didn't wanna miss the sunset' but the sun wouldn't set till a few more hours. 

"C'mon, y/n?" JJ flung his t-shirt in the air and dashed to the glimmering water. y/n couldn't help but smile from the contagious excitement that radiated off of him and quickly stripped her clothes off as well. she wore a simple white one piece that made her tanned skin - from the burning hot sun - look absolutely stunning. putting her hair in a messy bun, she caught up to her best friend- he wasn't there. 

"where the fu-?"

"Y/N!!" y/n turned to her right to see him standing on the deck ready to jump. she smiled at the idea but then it struck her. 

"JJ WAIT-" it was too late, he already jumped in the water with a huge splash that would've made her grin everytime but not today. she quickly ran to the deck and jumped as well. rising from the salty water that should've stung her eyes, but the benefits of living in the outer banks was going to the beach everyday, so the ocean water felt normal to her, she gasped for air while searching for her friend. "JJ!"

she felt like something brushed past her but she ignored it, her mind fully occupied on the one and only. until she felt arms wrap around her legs. her stomach churned. im fucking dying.

but before she could kick whatever was beside her she rose up. turns out JJ swam underneath her to carry her by his shoulders.

"JJ!!" she sighed in relief. "what is up with you and scaring me today?" y/n made sure to not swat his head but his shoulders instead. JJ definitely noticed, his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was beaming. he always loved how caring she was with him, he doesn't know why but he damn well knew that he always wanted to be on her mind and vice versa. sure he has the pogues but it was different with y/n. yes, he loves hanging out with them, they're practically his family. but he would always cherish the conversation him and y/n would have together. silly or not, he loves them. he feels safe talking to her about...things. he never felt like the conversation went deeper than he felt comfortable with coz it was never the case.  

"why were you panicking before you jumped?" he asked, tilting his head up to see her face. 

"coz you're acting as if you haven't hit your head 15 minutes prior!" she said with her arms flung in the air for dramatic effect. JJ had enough and threw her to the water eliciting a scream from the poor girl. she rose from the water for the second time in 5 minutes gasping for oxygen to relieve her tired lungs. but from the shock of the unexpected jump and the little waves made it hard for her to breath. JJ swiftly carried her, wrapping her legs around the middle, and swam to a more calmer area. '

"are you okay?" JJ asked, concerned, but he kept giggling like a child. 

"no! i was gonna die and you're laughing!" she whined, a smile plastered on her lips, huffing annoyed. 

"i can't help it! you look cute with your hair clinging to your face" he giggled again making sure to tilt his head up to give her a teasing wink as well. y/n thanked the lord above that the boy couldn't see her because she was F L U S H E D. a couple minutes went by and they reached the shallow waters. JJ gently lifted her off his shoulders and made sure that she could stand. y/n thanked him before hurriedly taking his arm to sit down where the ocean and creamy sand meet. slightly moving forward to feel the warm water surround her body. JJ quickly followed, opening his chest as he placed his hands behind him. from how close they were sitting, y/n felt his warmth radiating off his body. both teenagers sighed in pure bliss, admiring gods work infront of them. 

the swarm of pale orange, red and a tint of pink was blessing the sky with their presence. the sun was on the verge of setting, the ocean waves became lighter, faded ripples of water were heard as tiny droplets of water splashed both of their faces every once in a while. birds and seagulls were going back to their families.

the scene before them was the calmest they've ever seen, the pair were admiring the beautiful painting in the sky.  

"its...breath-taking, right?" JJ stated, flicking his eyes between y/n and the sky. 

"yeah..." she replied, solely looking at the boy beside her. his silky smooth blonde hair was drenched in water making tiny strands fell onto his forehead, she could see the suns reflection from his shiny blue eyes. he was breath-taking. 

JJ was over the fucking moon. he felt a sense of pride knowing that the girl he fell hard for subconsciously called him breath-taking.  y/n turned her face to the other side so she wouldn't have to see what his reaction was, the boy found her shyness rather adorable once she realized what she implied. 

"i- uhm" y/n felt herself getting hot. what the hell, y/n?  she tried to explain herself because who calls their guy best friend breath-taking? but she couldn't mutter even a word. "i meant- uh you are- the sky is-" she fumbled, resting her forehead on his shoulder as a sign of giving up.the both of them were snickering for entirely different reasons. one wanted to die right on the spot, while the other wanted to scream from the top of his lungs out of pure joy that was overflowing him.

"y/n?" JJ whispered. the girl lifted her head off his shoulder to meet his eyes. 

"yes?" she replied, almost sounding out of breath from how quiet she was whispering. he looked away for a second before asking, 

"what did you mean when girls lie about their feelings?" he tipped his head, eyes suddenly hardening. 

"uhm" y/n didn't expect this sort of tone from him now, he looked and sounded serious. "well, it different with ever girl, but occasionally we feel like a burden by showing or expressing our real feelings. whether we're hurt, or sad, or angry," she exhaled deeply, closing her eyes in concentration to find the right words. "sometimes, its easier to pretend you're fine then telling someone what you're actually...feeling." y/n finally looked up to see his sun-kissed face. he looked sad. 

"d-did that ever happen to you?" this was definitely serious JJ asking, no more jokes or playful giggle now. he was fully giving her his attention. "to us?" y/n's heartbeat quickened

"what?" y/n couldn't think of a time she never wanted to vent to her long life best friend. he was her everything. her rock, her emotional support - as she is his - her friend, her...JJ "never-" but he wasn't hers hers. to hold hands all day without feeling a small piece missing to fit their puzzle of a relationship, to kiss, to cuddle, to sleep with, to wake up to..

"y/n" the boy guided her face to meet his for the 394th time today. "talk to me" his voice was soft, gentle, with a hint of hurt and guilt. "you dont have to lie about your feelings with me, express them, talk, vent, hell, you can shout them if you wanted to! jus-" his hands balled to fists, lips tipping down, forming a pout. "just, dont hide it from me. ever." his looked determined, wholehearted, and genuine. 

"JJ?" at this point, she wasn't talking, her self-conscious was. "can i kiss you?" she asked, with heated cheeks. his heart was drumming. fast. the long awaited question that was kept hidden was finally out. how is he supposed to react? all these months he'd though he'd ask her the question, and now he's on the other receiving end?

"...what?" JJ was flabbergasted, shocked, but nonetheless, fucking booming. no way...no fucking way "i- me? you? yes." 

JJ wasted no time in connecting their lips. y/n's eyes widened in  surprise. because one, agreeing with no doubt in his mind, and two, for pulling her in so quickly. eagerly. it took her a  second to process what's happening before she closed her eyes and kissed him back, making him feel like fireworks erupted behind them, celebrating this special moment. his warm lips were moving slowly guiding hers in the most gentle way. y/n felt one of his hands tighten around her waist as the other traced up her body until it reached the side of her face. he stroked her cheek, jaw, chin with his thumb before tilting her head to deepen the kiss even more.

eventually, he pulled away. staring, gratefully, into her eyes. 

"wow" he muttered, erupting a laugh from the bashful girl. a kiss turned into a series of kisses. the boy couldn't have enough of it, of her. 

"suddenly, i really like kissing." y/n mumbled on his lips causing him to chuckle. 

"California boys not kissin' ya right?" JJ asked making her chuckle. 

"not quite" she exhaled before smashing their mouths again. y/n's lips were so soft and sweet like sugary caramel and honey. it drove him wild. the boy felt so addicted that his senses were going haywire, touching, feeling, listening to her every move. y/n inhaled sharply, the mixture of JJ's signature scent and the salty ocean breeze was heavenly.

but, as embarrassing as it sounds, she was unsure of what to do with her arms.  she's never kissed anyone in the ocean before? and she certainly didn't kiss a boy for this long. all she was familiar with were simple pecks that lasted for 3 seconds, max. she felt like her arms felt out of place. do i rest them on his neck? play with his hair? shoulder? arms? should i just cross them?  she saw how comfortable, and more importantly experienced, JJ wason these things. so she certainly did not want to embarrass her already humiliated ass for not knowing how to kiss! crossing my arms it is. 

JJ for sure noticed because she felt the vibrations of his laughter. he pulled away, laughing. LAUGHING. oh god.

"i- is something wrong?" she asked, she felt hot again, humiliated, awkward, any word that would describe the feeling of digging a hole for a few years would work. JJ guided her arms and wrapped them around his cooled neck. 

"better?" he looked down on her. sometime when they were kissing they've gotten extremely closer to the point where he was hovering above her. y/n ignored the rapid beating in her heart and acted calm, 

"much" she looked between his beautiful eyes and flushed lips, kissing him again. she could get used to this feeling, this warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside her stomach, this comfort. she could get used to JJ holding her waist tightly, massaging his big hands and curling them around her frame, she felt the tips of the mop of his blonde hair tickle her forehead and temple. 

after a couple minutes, y/n pulled away but couldn't seem to stop admiring him. the glow he's emitting, the contagious smile he's radiating, it was all perfect. even though they've been the closest of friends, the bashfulness continues, suddenly, she felt like she couldn't look him in the eyes. she felt nervous to talk to him even when its clear he likes her back. she felt her heart beat quicken, her clammy palms pulsing, you can do this. she kept repeating to herself. but really, one quick look at the boy that captured her heart made the storm stop pouring, made the birds chirp happily, made the most beautiful rainbow, made her feel safe. 

"can you stay? for the night?" she felt herself getting hot out of nerves would he think im moving too fast? but we always sleep at each others places? does this change everything? her thoughts immediately were interrupted by JJ shifting....getting closer to her. his smile looked eternal, and full of genuine love, but she knew it was wayy too late to admit the love she has - had for years -  for him. JJ moved closer till their faces were almost touching, that 1 cm gap was full of dread and agony. he captured their lips to a warm, quick kiss. bumping their noses gently before saying,

"how can i say no to that face?" 

tags 🏷

@zybgrzyb --- @cthluvr --- @nervoussagittarius --- @lxllahmacchio --- @toystory2wasjustokay --- @lizziesaltzmansbae --- @your-typical-ingenue --- @andrewisthe-best -- @laurajustsblog