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bellysoupset · 6 months

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The New Guy

It was the first day of class and Vince felt like a toddler in kindergarten. Although he didn't actually remember going to kindergarten back in Italy, but his mom made a point of telling him he had wailed every time they dropped him off, so this was how Vince felt.

Except he wasn't the student today, he was the teacher.

He still wasn't fully back on his feet after such a hellish bout of flu and the emotional stress, but Vince felt steady enough he could at least fake it. Besides, he had wanted to be a teacher his whole life, so even if he felt like crying from the nerves, he was also incredibly excited.

This was his old school and it was weird, to say the least, to walk the halls as a teacher, not a student. Not much had changed - better flooring, a classroom had a smartboard instead of a white one, new teachers.

His old ones were still there, though, and Vince nearly jumped out of his skin upon entering the teacher's hall and having his name shouted, "Vincenzo! Oh look at you!" as if he was the chubby kid who grew up over summer. Which yeah, he sort of was.

The literature teacher was still the same woman, Ms. Lobdell. She had been already been an ancient faculty member back when he was at school and time had done her no favors, but she was sharp as a knife.

His old history teacher had retired, the spot Vince had occupied, and the biology and chemistry teacher, a horrible man whom Vin had hated back then, had also left the school.

He was told all this by Ms. Lobdell, who dragged him around by the arm despite the first class starting at 8 AM and it already being 7:55.

Finally Vince was released from the claws of that sweet wrinkly woman to his class of snotty 10 year old, whom he was already very partial to.

Because moving had been such a huge thing, from his relationship with Wendy and his friends, to quitting his solid job and getting an entirely new place, Vince had been more than a little insecure about the whole thing.

Suddenly it wasn't just "getting a new job", it was "getting a new life" and he felt a gigantic pressure for this to be as good as he had imagined it to be, otherwise... Otherwise he would have gone through all this trouble for nothing.

It was a relief so strong when teaching his first class ended up being everything he had imagined and more, that Vince was teary eyed by lunch break.

"So how was it?" Wendy asked, her voice breathless as she moved around. Vince checked his watch again, noticing his hands were shaking with how nervous he had been. 1:30 PM, she was probably leaving her hot yoga class to get dressed for her evening shifts.

"It was amazing," he confessed, smiling, keeping his voice low, "the kids were great, the teaching plan went smoothly... They keep calling me mister Monacelli, though, which is very weird... It was just great."

"I'm glad," Wendy answered and he could tell she was smiling and meant it, "what now?"

"Now I get my teenagers," Vince scratched at his cheeks, suddenly wishing he hadn't shaved in the morning. He felt too baby faced to handle the teens, doubting they'd respect him, "they're going to eat me alive."

"Yes, but not in the way you think," Wendy teased him, "you're going to be the class crush, just watch it."

He grinned, smoothing his shirt and looking around the empty classroom. Vince had been much too nervous to join the remaining staff in the cafeteria and had had lunch inside his classroom, like a loser. Just a veggie roll too, which normally wouldn't sustain him even for two hours, let alone the rest of the day.

"Now you're just egging me on," he rolled his eyes, "how's your day?"

"Great," Wendy huffed and her voice got distant as if she had left her phone in a surface, "I have far too much free time now that you're not around, so I'm gonna start taking classes."

"Classes on what?" he balled up the paper napkin and grabbed his tooth brushing kit, walking out of the classroom, holding the cellphone to his ear.

"Anything," Wendy sighed, "I just need to occupy myself a bit, it'll help."

"I think you should take interior design classes," he entered the bathroom, "you're always fiddling with things in the apartment."

"Uhm, maybe," she sighed and then he heard a noise and Wendy cursing, "a stupid pigeon just hit my window, I gotta go. Love you, break a leg, Mr. Pussy Magnet!"

"Love you as well, honey," Vince rolled his eyes, hanging up.

His first class after lunch actually went a lot smoother than Vince was expecting, but the second one... He had no idea where his students were.

After fifteen minutes of sitting there without a single soul appearing, Vince peeked at the hallway and frowned. He was half expecting the kids to be pranking him by sitting in the hallway, but nada. Not a single student.

He sighed, locking the classroom and walking back to the teacher's hall to see if anyone else would have an inkling of where his kids had disappeared to.

An older teacher, whom Vince remembered as the trigonometry teacher and who, thankfully, did not remember Vin, was leaning against the window, with his head poking out, smoking.

"Mr. Turella, hi," Vince smiled and the older man smiled back.

"You're the new teacher, right? History?"

"Yeah," Vince crossed the room to shake his hand and the man let out a huff.

"You're looking more like the P.E teacher, son," he teased lightly, "are you lost?"

"No, not really," Vince grimaced, "but I think I lost my kids? No one showed for my class..."

Mr. Turella let out a snort, carefully resting his cigarette on the windowsill and walking across the room to the big schedule that was plastered to the wall, "oh yeah," he shook his head, "Daniels stole your kids."

"Excuse me," Vince frowned, crossing the room so he could look at the schedule as well. Mr. Turella planted a wrinkled finger over the sophomore's schedule and dragged it down.

The class before Vince's was Chemistry, with Mr. Daniels.

"Uh... That's just great," Vince wrinkled his nose in distaste, "I don't suppose I should go over and tell him to release my kids?"

"Bad move for a rookie," Mr. Turella patted his arm, "just wait for them to show and you can chew out Daniels after class. Not that it's going to help much, it never did in my case."

"He does this a lot?" Vince scoffed and the other man nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, get used to it," the man sighed and walked back to the window, "take the win, it's a break in your schedule."

"It's time they're not learning the curriculum," Vince corrected, groaning as he imagine the headache this would be down the line, when he inevitably fell behind if he didn't have enough time to teach, "alright, thanks Mr. Turella."

"It's John," the man waved him off, continuing to smoke.

Vince returned to his classroom, chewing at his lip since it was still empty. He paced nervously, until his students finally showed, thirty minutes late and chatting loudly.

"We're having P.E now?" a boy asked, causing his friends to giggle and Vince to sigh. It was going to be a long evening.

Mr. Daniels fucking haunted him. His senior students, whom he was dreading already, were also late thanks to the biology classes. Unlike the previous kids, though, they walked in quietly and seemed very interested in Vince, if only because he was new and shiny.

"You cannot be serious-" a girl blurted out, when Vince announced he was holding them for ten more minutes, since they had arrived twenty past the time of class, "sir. You cannot be serious, Mr. Monacelli," she corrected herself quickly.

Vince raised his eyebrows, not the outburst, but at the correction. It was so weird to be treated like that.

"Well, I- Alright, today you can leave, but next time this happens I'll have to hold you until we're done. You can't fall behind so close to SATs," he sighed, gesturing to the whiteboard, "and remember homework."

"Yesssir," there was a chorus of voices, making him cringe. Sir, that didn't sit right.

"I'll see you Wednesday," Vince waved to the door and then sat down, waiting for the kids to leave. As soon as he was alone, he let out a groan and rubbed at his neck.

As Vince walked to the parking lot, he paused as he saw a man leaning heavily against the wall, just outside the view of the buses leaving.

The man had his back pressed to the wall and his hands on his knees, as if catching his breath after running a marathon.

Curiosity got the best of him and Vince stepped closer, wondering if this was a senior student who had been held back - he didn't look seventeen, for sure, but not old enough to be a parent either - and if so, why he hadn't been in his class just now.

"Hey," Vince said, realizing the guy was actually older than he expected as he stepped closer, "hey, you alright?"

The guy shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line, "not feeling too hot..." he let out a soft burp, unashamed, and grimaced, "you're the new guy, the new teacher."

"Uh- It's Vince..." Vince frowned, inspecting the other man. He was a blonde, with most of his hair pulled up in a man bun, showcasing an undercut. He was wearing a buttoned up shirt, but with short sleeves - which should be a crime, in Vin's opinion, - and he could see his left arm was completely tattooed.

Definitely not a teacher, Vince thought, crouching slightly. The guy wasn't short, but compared to Vin he was. He also looked incredibly, terribly familiar.

"I'm Max," the man grimaced and spread his feet apart, "I'm gonna hurl, you should step back."

So casual about the whole deal, as if it wasn't mortifying. Vince frowned even more, "are you waiting for your kid, Max? Can I get someone for you?"

"My kid?" Max let out a little chuckle, which quickly turned into a groan and he wrapped an arm around his stomach, "no, I'm fine. Lunch was just too heavy, the cafeteria food fucking sucks."

"You're a staff member?" Vince frowned, even more confused. He wanted to get a decent look at the man's face, but he was sort of bent over, with a couple hair strands falling in front.

"Bio-" Max cut himself off with a gag and groaned loudly. He panted, back heaving and a couple of belches bubbled up, low in volume, but terrible wet. He cleared his throat, but it morphed into a cough and then Vince jumped back as a splatter of puke hit the pavement, sinking in the gravel.

He made a face, reaching out and planting a hand on Max's shoulders, keeping him swaying, and looked around, hoping there was anyone better equipped to help.

"Fuck-" Max groaned, pressing his stomach with a hand and heaving again. An empty, painful and loud, heave, followed by another cough and more vomit, this time a much larger amount. He let out a little moan, hanging over the puddle with an arm wrapped around his middle and panting.

"Done...?" Vince grimaced and the man nodded, wiping his lips on the back of his hand and then making a face at it, wiping his hand on his jeans.

"Urgh, that was gross..." he straightened up, taking a steady breath and sidestepped the mess on the ground, "sorry. I didn't catch your name?"

"Vince," he repeated, studying the man's face. They were about the same age, now Vince realized, but Max looked younger. Blonde with brown eyes and a tanned complexion, he looked like a surfer who had gotten lost on his way to California, "I'm the new history teacher."

"I'm the biology and chemistry teacher," Max shook his hand, following Vince further into the parking lot and Vin nearly stopped on his tracks.

"You're Mr. Daniels?"

"Uhhh yeah man, the one and only," the guy opened a little smirk, looking amused, "you heard about me?"

"You're the prick who held my kids," Vince glared at him, "twice. Thirty minutes each."

"I had to wrap up the subject," Max shrugged, "and they were interested. You know how hard it is to get these gremlins interested in anything, no hard feelings."

Vince scoffed, rolling his eyes, "quit doing that then," he said, finally arriving at his bike, "...Are you sure you alright?"

"I'm fine," Max smiled, smoothing his shirt and undoing the top buttons, "see you around, Mr. Monacelli."

#mywriting #sickfic #vince monacelli #max daniels #stomachache #indigestion #hehehe finally

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greer-morgan · 2 months

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Heartbeats | Self-Para

Mid-August. (About three weeks after the breakout, and one week after Mahlon woke up.)

The knock at the door came softly. There was a sense of stillness, of calm order that existed within this room that no longer existed in the rest of the city—the rest of the hospital, even.

Greer stirred, the rustling of her medical gown and the paper liner of the table were the only sounds until her own voice cut through, “Come in.”

“Greer? Hi, I’m Dr. Mire.”

Dr. Mire was a woman at least thirty years Greer's senior, with deep lines etched into the corners of her eyes and around a kind smile. Freckles of various hues dotted her skin, some a deep shade of brown and others just barely different from the base tone of her face. Her hair was long and silver, forming a sleek braid down the center of her back. There was nothing flashy about the woman. She was put together, but unlike any other Capitolite Greer had ever seen, it was for comfort and practicality. Even the scrubs under her white coat were a pale purple. She reminded Greer of someone who’d at least once belonged to a district, and Greer trusted her more for that. There was no way this doctor was born in the Capitol, Greer thought, but didn’t ask.

This first appointment would be the longest of all of them, Greer was warned. There wouldn’t be a single inch of her unexamined by the end of it, and she wondered if it was all worth it if she wasn’t sure she was even keeping this baby yet. But then, she wasn’t sure that she wasn’t either, so here she sat.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mire asked as she rubbed hand sanitizer into her palms.

“Like I’m dyin’,” Greer deadpanned. “I’m gettin’ sick all day long, and if I’m not pukin’ it’s ‘cause I’m asleep… in the middle’a the day, ‘cause I haven’t made it through the day without a nap in weeks. S’like havin’ the worst flu of my life, but if the flu also made all my bras too small,” Greer lamented.

“Sounds like the first trimester to me. Soon, your pants won’t button either.” Dr. Mire laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s all normal. You’re in the worst of it now, but you should start feeling better in the next few weeks. Are you doing okay keeping liquids down? We don't want you dehydrated.”

“Yeah, liquids’re okay.”

“Good. Will baby’s dad be joining us today?” Dr. Mire asked.

Greer’s laugh was short and sharp, though she knew the doctor wasn’t in on the joke. “Not this time,” she answered.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and get started then. First thing we’re going to tackle is one large mountain of paperwork.”

Dr. Mire moved with practiced efficiency. She pulled a rolling stool to sit in front of a computer. Together they went over Greer’s medical history. She brought up everything she knew about her parents and her siblings. She told the doctor about her Games and the years after—a strange sense of self-consciousness crept over her, a sudden want to clean up the bits that somehow sounded messier here. And then, Dr. Mire asked about Mahlon.

“I… don’t really know,” Greer admitted sheepishly. “I mean, I know him,” she tacked on quickly. “I know who the father is.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you if you didn’t,” Dr. Mire assured her gently.

Greer nodded, her tongue darting over her lips to wet them before she continued. “Jus’ don’t know that much ‘bout his family history. He’s an only child. Mom’s dead. Dad up an’ disappeared. So, if he’s got issues with his blood pressure or his eyes, I ain’t got any idea,” she explained. Not that district healthcare would have caught any of that anyway.

They went on like this for a while. Dr. Mire asked a few follow-up questions that Greer did her best to answer, before she moved on. “You’re from Ten, is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Greer nodded.

“Do you spend a lot of time around livestock? Have pets?”

“Y-yeah, got chickens, horses, cats, all kinda stuff back home. Why? Is that a problem?”

“Well, yes and no. There are just a few things we’re going to add to the ‘off-limits for a little while list’.”

Greer listened as the doctor explained everything Greer couldn’t do. Smoking and drinking had been obvious, but apparently there were a whole host of foods and medications that were out. No more horseback riding. Have someone else clean the litter boxes and the chicken coop. Be cautious about hot baths. Limit caffeine. Greer suddenly felt better about all the naps she’d been taking, because it wasn’t like she could have or do anything else, apparently.

Finally, Dr. Mire stopped typing and stood, crossing the room to where Greer was seated. Her hands moved along Greer’s body—blood pressure and temperature taken, heart and lungs checked, lymph nodes pushed. “You plannin’ on leavin’ any in there?” Greer asked, somewhere around the fourth vial of blood that was drawn from her arm. Every bit of her was poked and prodded to the doctor’s satisfaction, until she was finally instructed to lay back.

“Now that we’re done having a look at you, let’s take a look at that baby, shall we?” Dr. Mire beamed. It was the most enthusiastic expression she’d offered the entire appointment, like she was finally offering Greer her reward for having endured the past hour. Greer swallowed, her throat achingly dry, as her gaze settled on the ceiling above her. This was supposed to be the good part, but Greer had to clasp her hands to keep them from shaking. She was unbearably aware that she was dreading the part anyone else would have spent all day looking forward to.

The room darkened and a screen flickered on, casting a dim glow over the doctor’s face. Greer was relieved that the screen was angled away from her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to look like a monster for fixing her gaze on a stained ceiling tile instead of prying for a glimpse at the screen. She laid there in stone silence while the doctor worked, hitting buttons and adjusting views. It seemed to go on forever before Dr. Mire spoke again.

“Would you like to see your baby, Greer?” Dr. Mire asked, tilting the screen toward her.

Greer’s heart leapt into her throat. She wanted to say no, to avoid what she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with, but it was curiosity that won over. Greer just couldn’t help herself. Her eyes fell away from the ceiling and landed on the ultrasound—all indecipherable black and white blobs to her. Greer offered a sputtered laugh. “How the hell do you even know what you’re lookin’ at?” she asked, lifting her head to crane her neck.

“A lot of training and a lot of practice, but I promise you that’s exactly what it’s supposed to look like. Baby is exactly where they’re supposed to be and measuring right on for ten weeks. Which makes this little one due about mid-March.” March. It seemed both incredibly far away and so impossibly close. “Great, I’ll be laborin’ with the cows,” Greer blurted, the humor a bit more biting than she intended, but Dr. Mire laughed anyway. Apparently, she couldn’t do anything without it being steeped in District Ten.

“There’s baby’s head,” Dr. Mire continued, pointing to the screen where Greer was meant to look. “And you won't feel it for a few months yet, but if you look here, these little nubs are baby’s limbs already wiggling all over.”

“Looks like Cosmo,” Greer muttered to herself with a hollow laugh, laying her head back down again. That damn teddy bear Mahlon had won for her at the ball with its big round head and stout, little limbs.

“And this is the best part,” Dr. Mire moved to reach for a small dial. The silence in the room was quickly replaced by a steady whooshing sound, strong and fast. “That… is your baby’s heartbeat.”

The sound knocked the air from Greer’s lungs. “Magical, isn’t it?” Dr. Mire asked, handing Greer a tissue. It wasn’t until the tissue had been extended to her that Greer even realized she was crying. Hot tears were rolling from the corners of her eyes and pooling against the shells of her ears before dropping off onto the paper liner beneath her.

“What does it say ‘bout me if it’s fuckin’ terrifyin’?” She choked out the question.

Dr. Mire’s lips turned up softly. “Oh, sweetie,” she started, the words all warmth and no condescension as she muted the sound again. “The only thing it says is that you’re a human being. It is perfectly normal to be scared and overwhelmed.”

“I don’t know if I… what if I ain’t… what if I ain’t meant to be somebody’s mom?” Greer managed between sobs. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’. What if I can’t do this?”

Dr. Mire took Greer’s hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think I can count on one hand the amount of people who haven’t said almost that exact same thing. You want to hear a secret, Greer? Really, no one knows anything about parenting before they’re in it. It just seems that way, because you haven’t seen them here saying exactly what you’re saying to me right now,” Dr. Mire assured her. “You have options, and you have time, and I can’t tell you what the right choice is for you. But I also know there isn’t any one right way to be a good parent. I think you just have to be willing to surrender to the fear of loving someone more than you love yourself.”

Greer thought of her own parents. Two people who’d had children for vanity’s sake, and who’d never been willing to try loving anyone more than they loved themselves. Greer had never been enough for her parents, and now with painful irony, she worried she wasn’t enough for her child. But was love the obstacle for her? She’d been so sure once that it would be, but she knew now that it wasn’t. Being afraid of something wasn’t the same thing as not wanting it.

“C-can I hear the heartbeat again?” Greer asked. “Just for another minute?”

“Of course you can.”

#medical appointment tw #blood tw #needle tw #self para #136

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shuxiii · 1 year

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Everyday pt.14

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13, pt15

a/n 6 left to go, ''every day'' by david levithan

Day 6019

I am much luckier the next morning, when I wake up in the body of Surita, whose parents are away, and who is being watched over by her ninety-year-old grandmother, who doesn’t seem to care what Surita does, as long as it doesn’t interfere with her programs on the Game Show Network. I’m only about an hour away from Hanni, and in the interest of her not being called to the principal for repeated attendance violations, I meet her back at the Clover Bookstore after school is out.

She is full of plans.

“I told everyone I was visiting my grandmother for the weekend, and I told my parents I would be at Yeeun’s, so I’m a free agent. I’m actually staying at Yeeun’s tonight, but I was thinking tomorrow night we could … go somewhere.”

I tell her I like that plan.

We head to a park, walking around and playing on the jungle gym and talking.

We don’t talk about Minji. We don’t talk about the fact that we have no idea where I’ll be tomorrow. We don’t talk about how to make things work.

We block all this out, and enjoy ourselves.

Day 6020

Lee Eun could not have imagined her Saturday was going to turn in this direction. She’s supposed to go to play practice at noon, but as soon as she leaves her house, she calls her director and tells him she has a bad flu bug—hopefully the twenty-four-hour kind. The director is understanding—it’s Hamlet and Eun is playing Laertes, so there are plenty of scenes that can be run without her there. So Eun is free … and immediately heads toward Hanni.

She’s left me directions, but she hasn’t told me what the ultimate destination is. I drive for almost two hours, west into the hinterlands of Maryland. Eventually the directions lead me to a small cabin hidden in the woods. If Hanni’s car weren’t in front, I’m sure I’d think I was hopelessly lost.

She’s waiting in the doorway by the time I get out of the car. She looks happy-nervous. I still have no idea where I am.

“You’re really cute today,” she observes as I get closer.

“Japanese-Russian dad, Korean mom,” I say. “But I don’t speak a word of Russian.”

“Your mom isn’t going to show up this time, is she?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Then I can do this without being killed.”

She kisses me hard. I kiss her hard back. And suddenly we’re letting our bodies do the talking. We are inside the doorway, inside the cabin. But I’m not looking at the room—I am feeling her, tasting her, pressing against her as she’s pressing against me. She’s pulling off my coat and we’re kicking off our shoes and she’s directing me backward. The edge of the bed kicks the backs of my legs, and then we are awkwardly, enjoyably stumbling over, me lying down, her pinning my shoulders, us kissing and kissing and kissing. Breath and heat and contact and shirts off and skin on skin and smiles and murmurs and the enormity revealing itself in the tiniest of gestures, the most delicate sensations.

I pull back from a kiss and look at her. She stops and looks at me.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” she says.

I trace the contours of her face, her collarbone. She runs her fingers along my shoulders, my back. Kisses my neck, my ear.

For the first time, I look around. It’s a one-room cabin—the bathroom must be out back. There are deer heads on the wall, staring down at us with glass eyes.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“It’s a hunting cabin my uncle uses. He’s in Australia now, so I figured it was safe to break in.”

I search for broken windows, signs of forced entry. “You broke in?”

“Well, with the spare key.”

Her hand moves to the patch of hair at the center of my chest, then to my heartbeat. I rest one of my hands on her side, glide lightly over the smoothness of the skin there.

“That was quite a welcome,” I tell her.

“It’s not over yet,” she says. And, just like that, we’re pressed together again.

I am letting her take the lead. I am letting her unbutton the top of my jeans. I am letting her pull the zipper down. I am letting her remove her bra. I am following along, but with each step, the pressure builds. How far is this going? How far should this go?

I know our nakedness means something. I know our nakedness is as much a form of trust as it is a form of craving. This is what we look like when we are completely open to each other. This is where we go when we no longer want to hide. I want her. I want this. But I’m afraid.

We move as if we’re in a fever, then we slow down and move as if we’re in a dream. There’s no clothing now, just sheets. This is not my body.

I feel like a pretender.

This is the source of the pressure. This is the cause of my hesitation. Right now I am here with her completely. But tomorrow I may not be. I can enjoy this today. It can feel right now. But tomorrow, I don’t know. Tomorrow I may be gone.

I want to sleep with her. I want to sleep with her so much.

But I also want to wake up next to her the next morning.

The body is ready. The body is close to bursting with sensation. When Hanni asks if I want to, I know what the body would answer.

But I tell her no. I tell her we shouldn’t. Not yet. Not right now.

Even though it was a genuine question, she’s surprised by the answer. She pulls away to look at me.

“Are you sure? I want to. If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I want to. I… prepared.”

“I don’t think we should.”

“Okay,” she says, pulling farther away.

“It’s not you,” I tell her. “And it’s not that I don’t want to.”

“So what is it?” she asks.

“It feels wrong.”

She looks hurt by this answer.

“Let me worry about Minji,” she says. “This is you and me. It’s different.”

“But it’s not just you and me,” I tell her. “It’s also Eun”

“Eun?”

I gesture to my body. “Eun”

“Oh.”

“She’s never done it before,” I tell her. “And it just feels wrong … for her to do it for the first time, and not know it. I feel like I’m taking something from her if I do that. It doesn’t seem right.”

I have no idea if this is true or not, and I’m not going to access to find out. Because it is an acceptable reason to stop—acceptable because it shouldn’t hurt her pride.

“Oh,” Hanni says again. Then she moves back closer and nestles in next to me. “Do you think she would mind this?”

The body relaxes. Enjoys itself in a different way.

“I set an alarm,” Hanni says. “So we can sleep.”

We drift together, naked in the bed. My heart is still racing, but as it slows, it slows in pace with hers. We have entered the safest cocoon our affections can make, and we lie there, and we luxuriate in the wealth of the moment, and gently fall into each other, fall into sleep.

It is not the alarm that wakes us. It is the sound of a flock of birds outside the window. It is the sound of the wind hitting the eaves.

I have to remind myself that normal people feel this way, too: The desire to take a moment and make it last forever. The desire to stay like this for much longer than it will really last.

“I know we don’t talk about it,” I say. “But why are you with her?”

“I don’t know,” she tells me. “I used to think I did. But I don’t know anymore.”

“Who was your favorite?” she asks.

“My favorite?”

“Your favorite body. Your favorite life.”

“I was once in the body of a blind girl,” I tell her. “When I was eleven. Maybe twelve. I don’t know if she was my favorite, but I learned more from being her for a day than I’d learn from most people over a year. It showed me how arbitrary and individual it is, the way we experience the world. Not just that the other senses were sharper. But that we find ways to navigate the world as it is presented to us. For me, it was this huge challenge. But for her, it was just life.”

“Close your eyes,” Hanni whispers.

I close my eyes, and she does the same.

We experience each other’s bodies in a different way.

The alarm goes off. I don’t want to be reminded of time.

We have not turned on the lights, so as the sky turns to dusk, the cabin turns to dusk as well. Haze of darkness, remnant of light.

“I’m going to stay here,” she says.

“I’m going to come back tomorrow,” I promise.

“I would end it,” I tell her. “I would end all the changing if I could. Just to stay here with you.”

“But you can’t end it,” she says. “I know that.”

Time itself becomes the alarm. I can’t look at the clock without knowing it’s past the hour for me to go. Play rehearsal is over. Even if Eun goes out with friends after, she’s going to have to be home soon. And definitely by midnight.

“I’ll wait for you,” she tells me.

I leave her in the bed. I put on my clothes, pick up my keys, and close the door behind me. I turn back. I keep turning back to see her. Even when there are walls between us. Even when there are miles between us. I keep turning back. I keep turning in her direction.

Day 6021

I wake up, and for at least a minute, I can’t figure out who I am. All I can find is the body, and the body is pounding with pain. There’s a hazy blur to my thoughts, a vise compressing my head. I open my eyes and the light nearly kills me.

“Dana,” a voice outside of me says. “It’s noon.”

I don’t care that it’s noon. I don’t care about anything at all. I just want the pounding to go away.

Or not. Because when the pounding briefly stops, the rest of my body chimes in with nausea.

“Dana, I’m not going to let you sleep all day. Being grounded does not mean you get to sleep all day.”

It takes three more attempts, but I manage to open my eyes and keep them open, even if the bedroom light feels like it has the same wattage as the sun.

Dana’s mother stares down at me with as much sorrow as anger.

“Dr. P is coming in a half hour,” she tells me. “I think you need to see him.”

I am accessing like crazy, but it’s as if my synapses have been dipped in tar.

“After all we’ve been through, the fact that you would pull such a stunt last night … it’s beyond words. We have done nothing but care about you. And this is what you do? Your father and I have had enough. No more.”

What did I do last night? I can remember being with Hanni. I can remember going home as Eun. Talking to her friends on the phone. Hearing about play practice. But I can’t reach Dana’s memories. She is too hungover for them to be there.

Is this what it’s like for Eun this morning? A complete blank?

I hope not, because this is awful.

“You have half an hour to shower and get dressed. Don’t expect any help from me.”

Dana’s mother slams the door shut, and the echo of the slam spreads through my whole body. As I start to move, it feels like I am trapped twenty miles underwater. And when I start to rise, I get a bad case of the bends. I actually have to steady myself against my bedpost, and nearly miss it when I reach out.

I don’t really care about Dr. P or Dana’s parents. As far as I’m concerned, Dana must have done this to herself, and she deserves the grief she gets. It must have taken a lot of drinking to get in this state. She is not the reason I get up. I get up because somewhere near here, Hanni is alone in a hunting cabin, waiting for me. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of here, but I have to.

I trudge through the hallway to the shower. I turn it on, then stand there for at least a minute, forgetting entirely why I’m standing there. The water is just background music to the horror of my body. Then I remember, and I step in. The water wakes me up a little more, but I stagger through the waking. I could easily collapse into the tub, and fall asleep with the water running over me, my foot over the drain.

When I get back to Dana’s room, I let the towel drop and leave it there, then put on whatever clothes are nearest. There’s no computer in the room, no phone. No way to get in touch with Hanni. I know I should search the house, but just the thought of it takes too much energy. I need to sit down. Lie down. Close my eyes.

“Wake up!”

The command is as abrupt as the earlier door slam, and twice as close. I open my eyes and find Dana’s very angry father.

“Dr. P is here,” Dana’s mother chimes in from behind him, with a slightly more conciliatory tone. Maybe she’s feeling bad for me. Or maybe she just doesn’t want her husband to kill me in front of a witness.

I wonder if what I’m feeling isn’t entirely a hangover if a doctor is making a house call. But when Dr. P sits down next to me, there’s not a medical bag in sight. Just a notebook.

“Dana,” she says gently.

I look at her. Sit up, even as my head howls.

She turns to my parents.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you leave us now?”

They don’t need to be told twice.

Accessing is still hard. I know the facts are there, but they’re behind a murky wall.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. P asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t remember.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Yeah. It’s that bad.”

She asks me if my parents have given me any Tylenol, and I tell her no, not since I woke up. She leaves for a second and comes back with two Tylenol and a glass of water.

I don’t get the Tylenol down on the first try, and I’m embarrassed by the chalky gag that results. The second time is better, and I gulp down the rest of the water. Dr. P goes out and refills the glass, giving me time to think. But the thoughts in my head are still clumsy, dull.

When she returns, she begins with, “You can understand why your parents are upset, can’t you?”

I feel so stupid, but I can’t pretend.

“I really don’t know what happened,” I say. “I’m not lying. I wish I did.”

“You were at Cameron’s party.” She looks at me, seeing if this registers. When it doesn’t, she continues. “You snuck out to go there. And when you got there, you started drinking. A lot. Your friends were concerned, for obvious reasons. But they didn’t stop you. They only tried to stop you when you went to drive home.”

I’m still underwater, and my memory of this is on the surface. I know it’s there. I know she’s telling me the truth. But I can’t see it.

“I drove?”

“Yes. Even though you weren’t supposed to. You stole your father’s keys.”

“I stole my father’s keys.” I say it out loud, hoping it will spark an image.

“When you went to drive home, some of your friends tried to stop you. But you insisted. They tried to stop you. You lashed out at them. Called them awful things. And when Cameron tried to take your keys away …”

“What did I do?”

“You bit him on the wrist. And you ran.”

This must have been how Haruto felt. The morning after.

Dr. P continues. “Your friend Lisa called your parents. They rushed over. When your father got to you, you were already in the car. He went to stop you and you nearly ran him over.”

I nearly ran him over?

“You didn’t get far. You were too drunk to back out of the driveway. You ended up in the neighbor’s yard. You crashed into a telephone pole. Luckily, no one was hurt.”

I exhale. I am pushing inside Dana’s mind, trying to find any of this.

“What we want to know, Dana, is why you would do such a thing. After what happened with Anthony, why would you do this?”

Anthony. That name is the fact that is too bright to hide. My body convulses in pain. Pain is all I can feel.

Anthony. My brother.

My dead brother.

My brother who died next to me.

My brother who died next to me, in the passenger seat.

Because I crashed.

Because I was drunk.

Because of me.

“Oh my God,” I cry out. “Oh my God.”

I am seeing him now. His bloody body. I am screaming.

“It’s okay,” Dr. P says. “It’s okay now.”

But it’s not.

It’s not.

Dr. P gives me something stronger than Tylenol. I try to resist, but it’s no use.

“I have to tell Hanni,” I say. I don’t mean to say it. It just comes out.

“Who’s Hanni?” Dr. P asks.

My eyelids close. I give in before she can get an answer.

It starts to come back to me while I’m asleep, and when I wake again, I remember more of it. Not the end—I genuinely can’t remember getting in the car, almost running over my father, hitting the telephone pole. I must have checked out by then. But before that, I can remember being at the party. Drinking anything anyone offered. Feeling better because of it. Feeling lighter. Flirting with Cameron. Drinking some more. Not thinking. After so much thinking, blocking it all out.

I’m like Dana’s parents, or Dr. P—I want to ask her why. Even from the inside, I can’t figure it out. Because the body can’t answer that.

My limbs are heavy, wooden. But I prop myself up. I edge myself out of bed. I need to find a computer or a phone.

When I get to the door, I find it’s locked. There should be a key that lets me out, but somebody’s taken it.

I’m trapped in my own room.

Now that they know I remember at least some of it, they are letting me stew in my own guilt.

And the worst part is: it’s working.

I am out of water. I call out that I need more water. Within a minute, my mother is at the door with a glass. She looks like she’s been crying. She is shattered. I have shattered my mother.

“Here,” she says.

“Can I come out?” I ask. “There are some things I need to look up for school.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe later. After dinner. For now, Dr. P would like you to write down everything you’re feeling.”

She leaves and locks the door behind her. I find a piece of paper and a pen.

What I feel is helplessness, I write.

But then I stop. Because I’m not writing as Dana. I’m writing as me.

The headache and nausea are subsiding. Although every time I imagine Hanni alone in the cabin, I feel sick again.

I promised her. Even though I knew the risk, I promised her.

And now I’m proving to her that it’s too risky to accept my promises.

I am proving to her that I won’t be able to come through.

Dana’s mother brings me dinner on a tray, as if I’m an invalid. I thank her for it. And then I find the words I should have been using all along.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m really, really sorry.”

She nods, but I can tell it’s not enough.

I must have told her I was sorry too many times before. At some point—maybe last night—she must have stopped believing it.

When I ask her where my father is, she tells me he’s getting the car fixed.

They decide that I will have to go to school tomorrow, and that I will have to make amends to my friends then. They say I can use the computer for my homework, but then sit there behind me as I make up things to research.

Emailing Hanni is out of the question.

And they show no signs of giving me back my phone.

The previous night’s events never come back to me. I spend the rest of the night staring into that blank space. And I can’t help but feel it staring right back.

#newjeans fanfic #newjeans #hanni #hanni x reader #Hanni pham #newjeans imagines

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sugdenlovesdingle · 2 years

Text

Marjan's goodbye to the 126 made me cry... but Carlos is her friend too and he deserved to say goodbye too. And if Tim won't give me that, I'll just write it myself.

Or read on AO3

--- "Mama you really don't have to stay. You can just go home." Carlos pleaded with his mother. "I promise I won't overdo it. I'll just sit right here until TK gets home."

"Mi amor, I promised TK I'd stay to keep an eye on you so that's exactly what I'm going to do. You scared us." she stroked his face and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "We nearly lost you, we're allowed to be a little over protective."

"I'm fine mama. You heard the doctor, I've been lucky. I'm ok." he tried to reason with his mother. "I'm going back to work in a few days."

Andrea gave him a look that said she wasn't happy about that.

"Your dad has already talked to your sergeant about making you take it easy for a while. You need to give yourself time to recover."

"I will. I am, I promise. I don't need babysitting."

"Maybe not but I'm not leaving you on your own this soon after getting out of hospital. I'm your mother, it's my job to take care of you." she told him. "And I haven't always done a very good job..."

"Mama..."

"Just read your book Carlitos, I'll get started on dinner so TK doesn't have to worry about that when he gets home from work."

"I can cook mama, you don't have to. At least let me help." Carlos tried.

Andrea seemed to consider his suggestion but before she could decide anything, there was a knock on the door.

"Are you expecting anyone? Did TK forget his keys?" Andrea asked, going to open the door before Carlos could even think of getting up. "Oh hello Marjan."

"Hi Mrs Reyes." she said politely. "Is Carlos awake? I was hoping to talk to him for a little while."

"Yes Carlos is awake and very bored because he's barely allowed to move from the sofa." Carlos said, coming to greet her at the door. "Hey Marj."

"Hey you, how are you feeling?" she carefully hugged him.

"Fine. A little tired but that's it." he told her, leaving out certain details. "Though my mom and TK are making sure I don't so much as blink without either of them knowing. He hasn't left me out of his sight since I was discharged and now he had to go back to work, he got my mom to babysit me."

"We're just worried about you sweetheart. We want to make sure you're safe and rest up enough to enjoy your wedding day." Andrea told him.

"That's weeks away mom. I'll be fine by then. I'm fine now."

Andrea shook her head and turned to Marjan.

"He's just like his father. They're always fine and the world will end if they take some time to rest."

"I am resting." Carlos argued. "I've barely moved all day."

"Yeah I'm with your mother and fiancé on this one." Marjan told him. "It's not like you just had the flu."

"Not you too." Carlos sighed dramatically as the two of them sat down on the sofa while Andrea went to work her magic in the kitchen. "Don't take this the wrong way because I'm always happy to see you... But why are you here? Did something happen to TK?"

"No, no TK is fine." she rushed to say. "I'm going to the station after this."

Carlos frowned.

"Wait. Wasn't your hearing today? Or your deadline? With that woman you rescued?"

"TK told you about that?"

Carlos nodded.

"Yeah. And the group chat."

Marjan gave him a small smile.

"The good old group chat."

"Is everything alright? Did they suspend you?" Carlos asked, noticing his friend wasn't in uniform.

She shook her head.

"I quit. I left the AFD."

"What?!"

"That couple... They don't want an apology, they just want to use me to make some money. They want me to link to their gofundme in my apology post and tell people to donate... And I can't do that."

"And that's why you quit?"

"Part of it." she nodded. "The department are pushing me to make the post and I won't and they're not happy about that... But this whole thing is messing with my head. I froze up on a call because I was afraid of doing something wrong. If I can't trust my instincts I'm putting the rest of the crew in danger. People could die."

"I get it... I think." Carlos said after thinking it over for a minute. "So what's next for the great firefox?"

Marjan shrugged.

"I don't know. And that's both exciting and terrifying." she said and they both laughed. "I bought cap's bike."

"Oh great, instead of worrying my father in law will get himself killed, I'll be worrying about you."

"I'll be fine. I know how to ride. I had a bike in Florida but I had to leave it behind when I moved. I sold it and I've been thinking of getting a new one ever since. And when cap showed up at the station with his..."

"You wanted to get back in the saddle?"

"Something like that." She took a deep breath. "I came to say goodbye. I'm going to hit the road for a while. See what's out there."

"For a while? How long? TK and I are getting married in 7 weeks, and we need you there. You're part of the family."

Marjan smiled.

"I promise I'll keep in touch and I promise I'll be at the wedding. I can't let you two get married without me there. Not after everything you've put me and the rest of the crew through!"

"Excuse me? What we put you through?" Carlos said mock indignant. "You should be thankful you get to witness true love on a daily basis."

"Yeah you're right. Judd and Grace really are an example to us all."

"So mean." Carlos said laughingly and leaned over to hug her. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." She squeezed him a little tighter before letting go and getting up. "I should head to the station. I want to get on the road before it gets dark."

Carlos walked her to the door.

"Yeah. Be careful out there ok?"

"I will."

"And if you're not back here for the wedding, I will hunt you down and drag you home myself." Carlos told her. Not entirely serious but not exactly joking either. "I'm a cop. I have resources."

"That's abuse of police powers, officer Reyes." Marjan teased.

"Not if it's for a good cause. Having my friend at my wedding is a good cause."

Marjan just smiled and pulled him in for another quick hug.

"See you soon, Marj."

"Yeah. See you."

He watched her walk away and give him a quick wave before rounding the corner to get to the elevator.

"Just remember I have friends in the missing persons department, Marwani!"

#911 lone star #marjan marwani #carlos reyes #Tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic

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wheretheresaway-theresawilliam · 8 months

Text

Chapter 11: A Mask of My Own Face

Word Count: 982

TWs: Identity theft, sickness mention, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behaviour, brief suggestiveness

/) /) ( • ༝•)

Vanita giggled, swinging her legs back and forth in bliss as she listened to the audio recordings of Vanessa that she’d ripped from security footage of the PizzaPlex, retrieved for her by her ever-loyal Sawyer. She had the look, the backstory, an understanding of her personality… all that was missing was the voice. Whenever she was home alone, Vanita would wear Vanessa’s clothes around the house, practising her inflexions. Vanessa’s voice was a tad deeper and relied less on a vocal fry to come off as mature, which was hard for Vanita to master, but she felt like she was getting the hang of it. She’d talk for hours on the phone with Sawyer just to get better. He would’ve lost track of who he was talking to if Vanessa still hadn’t been sick. So sick, at some point, she just stopped calling in. Now it was time for Vanita to take her opportunity.

“Oh my gosh, Vanessa, where have you been?? You haven’t been answering your phone, I’ve been worried sick!” Ginny exclaimed when Vanita walked into the breakroom, wearing Vanessa’s uniform, her hair tied back.

“You’ve been sick? I’ve been sick! Stomach flu, got me pretty bad… but I’m feeling better now.” Vanita opened Vanessa’s locker, retrieving her flashlight, taser, and badge.

“Well, that’s good. Maybe something in your lunch went bad and you didn’t notice it?”

“I guess. Could’ve been from a kid, too.”

“Yeah. Jesus, who lets their kid run around in a public place if they know they’re sick?”

Vanita shrugged, checking Vanessa’s calendar to see where she was supposed to be. Gator Golf. Goody.

“Anyway, take it easy today… and I hope you’re not beating yourself up over missing so much work, you needed the rest.”

“You’re right…” Vanita sighed. “Thanks… I’ll try my best.”

Ginny nodded, giving her two thumbs up and an encouraging smile before leaving the room. So far… so Vanessa. Vanita relaxed, taking her time as she made her way to the mini-golf pitch. She never felt more giddy. If she could get through today, passing as Vanessa Fields, she would earn that call to William. God, I hope he picks up. She knew as soon as she arrived at the entrance to Monty’s Gator Golf that it would be her most boring shift yet. Not that running the gift shop was particularly exciting, but at least she wasn’t expected to be too alert. Luckily, she had a thermos full of energy drink carabinered to her belt to keep her awake.

Most of the shift was spent reminding pre-teens that mini-golf was about putting and not swinging as hard as you can, let alone threatening your friends with your club. After a while, she had stepped away, meeting Sawyer in a shadowy spot to make out about her success so far. At the end of the day, she couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m calling him,” Vanita told Sawyer as they walked to his car.

“William?” Sawyer asked with a reserved expression.

“No, the president. Duh, who else??” She slipped into his backseat and he sighed.

“Do you want me in the car?”

“Sure, just don’t make a lot of noise,” Vanita waved her hand dismissively, taking out her phone. Her hands shook with anticipation as Sawyer settled into the front seat.

5. 5. 5. 1. 2. 5. 2. Rrrring… rrrring…

“Hello???” All the air rushed out of Vanita’s lungs as a rich, accented voice reached her ears. “Who is this??”

Oh, God, right, talk you idiot! “Dad? It’s me… Vanessa.”

The line was deathly silent for a moment. “Darling… to what do I owe the pleasure of the sound of your voice?”

“I… was wondering if we could reconnect. I’ve been thinking about things… how we drifted apart.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Vanita pressed the phone closer to her cheek.

“I thought your mother had you entirely convinced that I was not to be trusted.”

“But mom’s not here right now, is she? I had to make my own decisions at some point.”

“Right you are, butterfly. Right you are.” She heard him sigh and shift around, maybe checking his schedule if he had one. “When are you free?”

“I don’t work on Mondays.”

“I see. Shall we have lunch at mine, then?”

“That sounds fantastic,” she inhaled through her nose, reminding herself to remain levelheaded. William’s house! “Could you remind me of the address…?”

“4011 Slate Blue, Salt Court.”

“Thanks… I-I’ll see you on Monday?”

“I’ll expect you at 11:30, sharp.”

“Of course. I won’t be late.”

“I know you won’t.” He paused. “It was good to hear your voice, Vanessa. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, dad. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Vanessa.”

She hung up and immediately began to squeal, excited tears springing to her eyes.

“Was it him?” Sawyer asked, startled out of his thoughts.

“Of course it was! I’m having lunch with him on Monday! I told you, Sawyer, this is destiny!” She squeezed his shoulder. “And I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.~”

“Uh-huh…” He felt disgusting. Her happy expression lessened at his unenthusiastic response.

“Oh, come on, at least pretend you’re happy for me,” she snapped, digging in her nails and making him hiss in pain.

“Can I just take you home?”

“Hmph.” She fell back into the car seat, lazily putting on her seatbelt. “Whatever, Sawyer. Y’know, I let you touch me whenever you like, and you’re still an ungrateful bastard. Who else can do what I do?”

“An escort.”

Vanita’s face burned and she hit the back of his seat. “Drive, you fuckhead!”

“Ow, sorry, I didn’t mean that…” He drove her home and the two parted ways bitterly. Still, Vanita’s frustration didn’t last long as she admired herself in the bathroom mirror. Afton’s daughter, Afton’s perfect, loving daughter, who wants nothing more than to fix what was once broken. Sounds like me alright.~

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #vanessa fnaf #vanita fnaf #william afton #Doppelgänger! au

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roseprincessarts · 2 years

Text

Hey…

I do not want to post this, I really don't. But I want to be heard and hope you guys understand. I wish it never happened in the first place, but I think I should talk about this. I wasn't supposed to post this till tomorrow, but I decided to do it now. I am afraid to tell y'all this, but I had to. And hopefully to get support from y'all and will get back to posting more Halloween stuff tomorrow after today and try to forget all this crap.

So after work when we got back to school, my teacher told me that my friend and I missed the flu shot. I wasn't even told, either that it has been notified to my mother. I was having an anxiety attack over the fear of getting the flu and possibly die, which I shouldn't worry, but it somehow getting into me. I called my mom to see if she can call somewhere to get me a flu shot, and she did. But when someone tried to talk to me, my anxiety was growing, and I had to get out to go to class, and now the attack grew worse. Then, I was accused of being rude, which I'm not and that hurt me more and more. I tried getting my mom to pick me up and take me to the hospital for my anxiety attack, but she refused to do so, and the attack continues to grow. I tried getting my dad to do it, but he wouldn't answer my texts or calls. My mom and I then got into a BIG argument, hurting me once more mentally, which didn't help. So I had no choice but to go to the guidance to get the help I needed. I was afraid my mom isn't going to help, because I needed the help I can't get, but all in my life of not getting it, I was just done to even see myself as a normal and beautiful person, but seeing myself in my own thoughts as a nobody and a person who makes mistakes, having fear and anxiety attacks.

I was hoping to get the actual help I need and have the right to get the help and be heard. I wish this drama wouldn't go any further throughout this month. This month is supposed to be fun, until my anxiety crap happens if I got the flu, which it isn't the season yet. I admit, I do have mental health issues, and I am trying to get help. I feel like it's not working and wished my anxiety and fear, and depression never happened. I wish I never had this mental health issues in my LIFE. Hell, if only I had a perfect life, perfect childhood life and without mental issues, it'd be okay. I don't get one. My upbringing mental health was getting worse, and I had no help, whatsoever. I wish all this just disappear like it never EVER happened. I just wish my mental health wasn't as bad as it gets. None of this bullcrap would've happened. *Sigh*... I don't even know if I am mentally ill or not.

At least my mom understands a bit. So she scheduled an appointment for tomorrow, and I'll be posting something after today of taking much time to slowly recover from my depression and anxiety and leave all of this behind. I am afraid of going back to school Monday after this whole bullshit, but hopefully it'll get better (hope so)

See y'all tomorrow

#mental health #mental issues #status update #status post #anxiety attack #depression

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jodilin65 · 31 years

Text

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1993 From what I now gather, Tom isn’t having sex with me till I get my pap smear results back and go to the GYN. I really doubt I’m infected. I also doubt things will change with that even if all my tests and appointments come up negative, but what can I do?

I fell asleep around 11 AM and got up at 6 PM.

Earlier Tom and I watched The Guardian. Boy, is he different than most guys. I asked him if watching me and another woman would turn him on and he said no.

Later…

Tom and I had a great night. He says, though, he’s not afraid I’ll give him anything if we have sex. He’s afraid to aggravate anything till I’ve had my appointments. He believes, like I do, that I’ll be fine.

After we watched the movie, he told me how he really liked this teddy bear I drew, among other things. I’m making drawings of things for him like flowers, ballet slippers, cats, and other stuff for computer programs. I finally got to scan in my best drawings. They look so cool. I’m sending two envelopes to Tammy, each with 7 pieces of paper in it. Each has 1-4 pictures.

I told Andy about my bastard brother. He was shocked.

I called Kim and she too, hasn’t heard from Bob. She agrees that something could very well be wrong. She says she’ll drive by his place in Turners Falls on Monday, her day off.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1993 I fell asleep around 10 AM and awoke at 3 PM. Tom was in a great mood. He left shortly after I woke up to go work on his brother’s computer.

I watched that movie and Jenny Seagrove was hot.

I fell back asleep around 9 PM and woke up about two hours later. Tom was working on the computer. Still in a great mood and very affectionate. Between his affection and the woman in the movie, I was so horny. I lay there slightly annoyed with him waiting for him to go to bed. I told him I had to relieve myself and after I did, I had no hard feelings. Hey, you can’t help your feelings. This guy just doesn’t desire me sexually. I don’t turn him on and he never cums anyway. The times he went down on me were cuz I asked him to. Before, I was hurt by all this, but I know you can’t help your feelings and I can take care of myself.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1993 After I last copied in all my entry dates for each journal, I got sicker than a dog all night. I couldn’t stop sneezing and I had a fever. I fell asleep yesterday at 2:30 AM and awoke at 4:15 AM.

Before getting sick I spoke to Andy and did some redecorating.

Today there was a message to call my doctor for my GYN approval. I’ll call either today or Monday. I want to make sure I’m over this cold. At least I’ve had one flu and two colds since I came here and not 1000 of each.

Well now, if moving here to Arizona, becoming a dancer, and having a relationship (with a male), and living in that person’s house are the most shocking things throughout these journals - here’s another. I called Tammy yesterday morning and she tells me Larry’s been at Mom and Dad’s! This surely blew me off my feet. Tammy doesn’t know much to tell, other than he called them last Friday and has been with them for 3-4 days. I guess he was in the area. She said something about owning a truck and something about computers. He’s still with Sandy, living in Agawam and I guess he still has two kids, Larry Jr. and Jennifer. Who knows what the hell is going on, but he is only 38-39 years old. Not 43.

Tammy said they only spoke for two minutes. She reminded him that she and I were also victims of Mom and Dad and that we never did anything to him. He said maybe he’d call her. Whatever, but I wish for no contact with my parents or Larry. Having no contact with them isn’t what I want, it’s what I need. It’s too late and there’s no hope of ever having a positive relationship with these people. These people are never gonna take me at face value and have brainwashed themselves and others with too much bullshit about me. They have their own minds made up about me, and Larry will only judge me by my past. I don’t need to explain or defend myself to either of them as they’ll never buy anything I say if it’s not what they want to hear. They twist my words. Tammy did defend me all on her own about one thing, though. Dad bitched about my moving so much. Tammy said, “So what? It didn’t affect you or cost you any money. She’s been self-sufficient and has money in the bank.”

In other news, last night on Unsolved Mysteries they profiled the Lisa Zeighert case in Agawam. Tammy saw it, too. She was working in a gift shop when someone came and raped her and then dumped her in the woods.

Later…

I just pulled out every single bookmark I had in all my journals. When I lived in S Deerfield, Kim had given me these tiny colored ribbons which I taped in. The bookmarks were a pain in the ass, so I removed them. I also had a few regular ones with tassels hanging from them. These I kept. I put them on my desk out in the back room. This way if I continue typing journals, I can keep my page with these.

Except for 3 days when the people next door moved in and had extra company in that trailer, they’ve been very quiet. They don’t wake me up and I hope this is how it stays. The soundproofing stuff Tom put in helps a great deal. I am very glad he put it in. Imagine how great it’ll be when it’s complete. He still is planning on spraying the gaps with something that dries up to be Styrofoam.

Andy’s gonna shit when I tell him about Larry. In a way, I think he should have just stayed away, let dead dogs lay, and not come around after all these years.

Yesterday I fell asleep at about 9 AM and slept until 7 PM. I sure needed to, but I awoke with a hell of a nightmare. Well, in a couple of days, I’m supposed to be off my probation. I sent in my last report form yesterday. In my dream, it was only around June or July of ‘93. Tom wasn’t in the dream at all. I supposedly violated my probation and was ordered to return to MA. By whom and how - I don’t know. Some guy (I don’t know who) was helping me pack. I pulled out an old pair of gloves. He said it was a good thing I kept them, cuz I’d need them back east. The situation obviously hadn’t hit me. I can remember thinking to myself how there had to be a way to solve this problem, clear up the mistake, and stay here in PHX. I thought of calling my parents for help but still refused to talk to them.

The next thing I knew I was in some large, bright, crowded room. People gathered around a big TV where some show was discussing people on probation from other states. It was mentioning what we all did wrong. When I was mentioned, it named all these people I was supposed to have burned and that I was ordered back to MA. I think even Stacey was there. I walked a few steps away and there was Andy. I asked if he saw the thing on me on TV. He said no. I asked him to “foresee” if and when I’d return. He said August 31st. I assumed he meant of ‘93 and I was relieved, but then he shook his head and said, “Of ‘94.”

Panic ripped through me as the realization of losing this weather, my gorgeous apartment (guess I was still single), palm trees and cactuses were unbearable. Then I woke up.

Later…

Tom got home at 7:20 and things have been going great with us. At 7:00 I got a great idea. I said I’d like to tell him and that if he didn’t agree, I’d compromise somehow. I suggested staying committed, but if we were to ever marry - shoot for one year from now. Perhaps December of ‘94. This will give us both the time to get over any fears and doubts. This way he can see that I won’t be violent or anything like that. And I can see that he’ll love me unconditionally. Occasionally telling me to put off something is fine, but here’s an example. He tells me I can be with him and be a singer. (big time or small) I believe him and take him at face value, but if I can ever get my damn foot in the door and I see him keep his word, I’ll be even more of a believer. Here’s another example. He’s never said to choose between him and being friends with Andy. With each passing month, I believe he won’t change that. He agreed.

I called my doctor’s office. My test results haven’t come back yet, but I’ll be called either way. My referral is being mailed to me.

Speaking of mail, I never get any anymore. It’s good, yet funny and weird and different not getting and paying bills in my name. No letters from Bob since the 15th. I hope nothing’s wrong.

I took a Pre-Sym pill for water gain, bloating and other PMS symptoms. At least I’m not a bitch. I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to see that movie tonight. It’ll be on in 9 hours.

I found a way to use my perfume without it bothering me. I sprayed it inside the back cover of this book.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1993 I just checked Prodigy and still no message from Tammy. She must be very busy. I’ll need to call her soon to see how she’s been and to tell her my not-so-good news.

My pap didn’t go so well yesterday. She is almost sure that the discharges are normal for me and she couldn’t see any apparent infections. The bad and baffling news is that my cervix is inflamed and also that there’s scarring right inside the opening. No other GYNs have told me this before and half of them say I’m of average size down there and the others agree I’m too small. Tom and I know there’s no chance of him getting inside there without my being made bigger by surgery. He accepts this and this is no problem for him, but there are times when I just wish I could function sexually as most women that are with guys do. The doctor says it’s unusual to be as small as I am and she doesn’t know why I am. She doesn’t know if it’s due to the DES.

As for the scarring, well, there’s Tom’s idea about it and then there are mine and the doctor’s. The doctor says it’s probably the times when I tried to “get Tom in there.” She says it doesn’t take much and even though it was only 3 weeks ago that we last tried, scarring can be there. I agree that this is the only possibility and no other doctor ever mentioned this before. Tom says he thinks I was molested as a kid. No way. No one in my family would’ve done this to me and it would’ve been medically evident a long time ago. He even was upset, saying that I was blaming him and protecting someone. It’s no one’s fault and I am not protecting anyone. If anyone ever did anything to me, I’m sure I’d be fully aware of it, it’d be medically evident, and I’d also speak up about it. I wouldn’t feel ashamed or guilty, cuz it wouldn’t have been my fault.

I just wish there was some way to make me bigger and less sensitive. The exam wasn’t painful, but it was very uncomfortable. Thank God I don’t want kids, cuz how would I conceive or even have them?

I’m waiting for the office to call me with the name of a specialist GYN. I hope, though, that there’s a problem with my insurance approving it, cuz I really don’t want to go. I’m tired of one thing after another and it’s really hard for me to believe this isn’t a punishment. After I have sex, with a guy or a girl, there’s some problem. What have I done to deserve this? I haven’t been on the phone or in any other trouble. I just want to be healthy and function normally sexually. I hope nothing’s wrong if I do go to a GYN.

Other than all this bullshit, things have been very good.

Thank God my parents still haven’t tried to call. But last night there was a hang-up call and I know it was ma. I could tell by the mannerism in which she hung up the phone. I’ve had enough phone fights with her to know how she hangs up on me. She was definitely frustrated and angry. My good pitch also helps me.

I’m gonna hold off a little longer on writing about the great idea Andy came up with till we discuss it more.

Not much else is going on. I think I’ve covered all the big stuff.

The weather’s hanging in the 80s here and the 30s to upper 40s back east. Fran called his local weather line and I called mine. When he heard it he said, “You bitch!”

Can’t wait until Friday night. A movie called The Guardian will be on and it’s got this hot English lady in it. I’m gonna tape her, alright.

I may or may not still get a binder the size of my journals to type in. I’d put blank note pages in it for if I’m out somewhere. I’m not sure I’m gonna continue copying my journals. Typing and printing them, I mean. Perhaps I will when I’m totally bored with nothing better to do. I will very soon begin editing for sure.

Kim, Phil and Alex oughta be home now. I hope Alex writes to me and that they all send some pictures. I can only imagine the look on Alex’s face when he read my letter. Kim too, as I sent her a copy of the letter I sent Alex, although Alex will probably show it to her.

I’m gonna write to Kim, Alex, Fran, Nervous and Bob. Speaking of Bob, what the hell’s going on with him? To not get a letter from him in two weeks is weird. Or almost two weeks. I think the last letter I got from him came on the 15th, so yes, it’s just about two weeks. I’ll send a letter bugging him and begging him to write and I’m sure he will. I hope nothing’s wrong and I wish he could get out here and be done with his court case.

In half an hour, the movie I taped will be over, so I’ll do a letter till then.

Fran and Nerv got my topless pictures.

Later…

I thought I was gonna fall asleep, but I guess not.

I just cut my index fingernail and already I must do so again. It digs into my thumb when I write. My nails and hair grow very fast.

Tom came in at 7:30 and we chatted for about 20 minutes. He’s gone to sleep now. I may not be awake till after he’s gone to work.

I told him if he’s ever in for a boring night at work, he can take along and read my book of letters.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1993 55 more minutes to go and it’ll be my 6th year journaling anniversary! I began my first journal 6 years ago. But this was back east, and it’s already the 27th there. There’s no time in my very first entry, as it took me a while to get organized. I know it was sometime during the afternoon.

Fran called at around 9:30 PM my time and we talked for about 45 minutes.

Before I woke up, that girl Andy works with left a message about cutting my hair. She didn’t leave a number, so I hope she calls back.

Things are still going great with Tom, but I’ll write more later.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1993 Today was a very nice day. Tom wasn’t home when I awoke, but we talked when he got home. We also talked late last night after I wrote my last entry.

I’ll only cover a few things now as tomorrow I have to go to my doctor’s. That’ll be a 2-hour deal, so I’ll remember to bring this book to pass time. The waiting time is ridiculous.

I now have that soft bed I like. I still want a soft foam double bed, but for now, I can make do. My twin bed has always been too hard, so I pulled out the foam mattress from my couch bed. Tom cut it to fit the top of my bed and it’s so much more comfortable.

We also played a few games of Crazy 8’s.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1993 I’m kind of depressed at the moment. It’s not like something’s happened to make me feel this way, but I guess I’m still struggling with the pros and cons of both staying and leaving here. I’m beginning to feel empty even when we don’t fight, and we haven’t for a week. I’m gonna miss never having one-nighters with women twice a year or so. I’ve come to accept this a long time ago and know I can’t be with women whether I tried to or not. It’s just not meant to be. I’m just not accepted by them and you know I’ve had no luck with the bars or placing ads. And when I would, it was only once a year or two.

Not having sex with Tom is no problem for me now. I’ve gotten used to it and I’m not gonna keep begging. It seems that 9 out of 10 good days when he’s in a good mood and well-rested he still never approaches me. The 10 times or so we’ve done it, I’m the one who started it. He only started it a couple of times and this was only after I told him it wasn’t fair if it were always me to start it. I’ve come to accept and do without and am now even a bit turned off by the idea. I think I’d refuse if he hit on me for sex. I’m also not gonna be easy. I’m gonna play hard to get. Yes, it’s my turn now to play hard to get. Only question is, will I get the chance? I doubt it. I think we’re now strictly platonic.

Here’s a list of the pros and cons of leaving/staying.

Pros of staying:

Happy and fun times with Tom Living in a house Private yard and pool Can blast music all the time Use the computer Save money Dancing’s not a must Transportation when needed The easiest place to sleep No neighbors attached below, above, or next door EC is healthier His VCR and couch are nicer Have washer/dryer Cons of staying:

The stress of when we fight Difficult compromises Not being able to have a yearly or bi-yearly one-nighter with a woman Missing our good times Dealing with the barking dogs Dealing with an older place (especially the kitchen), no dishwasher or garbage disposal No year-round heated spa or pool Accidentally leaving stuff around that I wish him not to see, like letters Fear of him deciding not to help me move and throwing my stuff out (although I doubt this) Pros of leaving:

No stress of any fights No difficult compromises Can have one-nighters with women My own place to decorate with all my stuff only No fear of him seeing personal stuff, like letters Modern place with dishwasher and garbage disposal Heated pool and spa year-round Fewer dogs barking Cons of leaving:

Probably couldn’t sleep Couldn’t blast music at all hours Connected neighbors Probably many more kids screaming Probably no washer/dryer in apartment Weekly early-morning lawnmowers and blowers No transportation Must always dance Probably less extra money My VCR and couch sucks No EC No computer No private yard and pool Dealing with overall apartment living Well, it looks like I oughta give it more time here according to those 4 lists. I know a lot of the stuff was materialistic, but that is a part of it, too.

Andy was over for a couple of hours. We both typed up a letter to Fran, then played about 6 games of Crazy 8’s, then he typed a letter to his cousin while I watched TV.

I have yet to write about his great idea, but I will when I get in the mood.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1993 Before I get backed up once again, I’m gonna mention today and then cover that 3-day fight.

Today was a good day, but I feel like I have a cold. I’ve been feeling this way for nearly a week.

Tom gave me some floppy disk labels that I’m using to cover the holes in my cassette tapes. It’s better than regular scotch tape. So, I spent a couple of hours reorganizing all my tapes and making their labels look a lot nicer. I’ve made them more understandable too, in a sense. Beside the number of each tape, I put either the letter E, M, or C (E-edits, M-music, C-convos). I still have to make Gloria’s medley as I said a few years ago.

I didn’t really do anything else today, so I guess I’ll get on with the fight. Well, let’s just say I was within inches of moving out. Again, let me first stress that there was no violence or anything like that. No one ever hurt anyone’s stuff either. We’re not like that.

It began the last night that my company stayed here. As I said, Tom knew damn well that they were. As I went to open the front door I noticed it was double-locked and I couldn’t get my key into the bottom lock. Alex used a credit card to pry open the laundry room door which was locked too, and I had left Tom a memo to please open it. When Alex got in he was able to go through the garage and open the front door.

I was fuming, and more so when I got Tom’s message on the voicemail. He said to let him know when he could have “his” house back, as he felt sick and tired and couldn’t sleep with the company there. He said he was gonna stay elsewhere (he wouldn’t say where not that I care).

I admit I jumped the gun on the lock issue but I wasn’t buying anything else we talked about when I called him at work. I called him at work as I was so mad and couldn’t wait. He insisted my key works both locks which he later proved to me. So there I was wrong and I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. He said he didn’t see the memo cuz he didn’t have time. That one I don’t buy, as he was busy with a million things that had nothing to do with me, so that wasn’t my fault.

So I told him they’d be leaving at noon on the 15th and he told me I needed to get another place to live. I was so pissed, cuz he knew this was coming, and I swore at him and hung up.

So when he came home after they left, I insisted that I couldn’t believe we woke him up when he’s slept through a lot of other noise. I believe he was jealous and felt left out cuz he had to work.

I asked him if he dumps all his girlfriends as soon as he has a beef with them and he said that I was dumping him. Well, it wasn’t me who thought of moving out. He brought it up first. Then he went on and on saying that whether I did this intentionally or not, I was killing him and abusing him. This really pissed me off and he said that I must truly feel guilty or else I wouldn’t be pissed or hurt. I explained to him the reason why I was pissed and hurt was cuz these words were coming from someone that’s supposed to love me and care for me and know me and my intentions a whole lot better. My mother, for example, said some pretty vicious things about me as a kid which wasn’t true and it hurt like hell as this was coming from my own mother. I also was fed up with him going back on his word. He said that he’d never suggest I move out. That fights and disagreements were part of relationships and that you stick together when you love someone and try to work it out.

Then he said he couldn’t remember any good times, I wasn’t helpful, and was using him. He did take that back, as we all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry. I have always paid my fair share and I do a lot of helpful things around the house that save him time. We also have had plenty of good times, as I wouldn’t have moved in here if we hadn’t.

So we agreed to make a list of things, as I won’t have him (or anyone) deny things I know I or they said. I also hate those that go back on their word without legit reasons. He’s gone back on his word about it being up to me whether or not to go back to dancing. He says that due to the risks being higher of me doing my type of work, he can’t handle the additional stress. This is cuz if he had to leave his job if I got hurt, he’d be fired. Shit can happen to anyone anywhere although his fears are acceptable and understandable. He fears me taking cabs. I’ve been lucky to have regular drivers, but you do never know and most cabbies carry guns. Of course, I’d prefer for him to take me to and from work if he could. Like if we worked at home. I’d also prefer to make money by working on the computer than by getting sore feet and having to give too much of my money away to the DJ, bouncers and bartenders, as much as I do love to dance. I’m sick of being used by the bar’s owners to support other employees.

So, he told me he can’t stop me from dancing as I’m an adult and he’s not my daddy, but that if I loved him enough, I’d have to move out if I wanted to dance. I still feel that a person should stand by the one they love no matter what they choose to do unless it’s illegal or harming people. But then he says it’s just as easy for him to say if I loved him enough, I wouldn’t put him under that kind of stress and worry. I guess I see it two ways. His way and mine both make sense. He said that if he’s working at home or has a different job, things may be different as far as that goes.

Well, I can’t say I’ll be here forever, but right now I still do want us to work out and learn to communicate better. I do admit I have my faults too and can sometimes jump the gun defensively. I also come from another part of the country and some of our words mean different things to one another. Just like Spanish words and signs vary in different areas. He told me I was attractive and gorgeous. I thought these words meant the same, but he relates attractive to the inside of a person and gorgeous to the outside. I’ve always considered them both to mean the outside of a person.

So, for now, the dancing and how long I’m here are up in the air. I certainly hope it all can be worked out somehow as I don’t want to have to give him up any more than I’d want to give my sister up just cuz I have a dream. I want to have my cake and eat it too.

How’s my dream tied into this? Well, Andy has an idea for him and Donna and me. If we decide to put the idea into action, then I’ll need to make more money by dancing. That’d mean moving out too. I hope it doesn’t come down to this, but Tom insists I should go for my dream. I want to do this with him, though, and I hope there’ll be a way to make any extra money I’ll need in a way we both can agree on and deal with. Only time will tell this. I’ll write about Andy’s idea another time, which I think is a great one and probably is the only chance the 3 of us are ever gonna have at this day and time.

The reason why I took offense to Tom’s saying my house is cuz for a while there I felt like I was living with him in his house, not our house. I don’t legally want my name on this house, but I want it to be our house in both of our hearts.

When things get really bad between a couple, it’s good to involve someone you can trust. So, Tammy, who has lots of experience was a great help to me. Again, she knows I’d never call her if we couldn’t agree on a movie or something of that petty nature.

There are a bunch of other little things here and there, but I forgot them.

Oh, here’s one. Tom saw me put a picture of Kim and I hugging into my photo album. Later he said he had doubts and wondered if I fooled around. Yeah, right! I think I know why he said this. Cuz at first I asked him about him and Wendy. I don’t believe they ever fool around, but if they ever do - more power to them. It’s their bodies and their lives.

I don’t think Tom would ever be a bad father in the way I’d be a bad mom, but it’s a good thing there’ll never be any kids. I really don’t think he could handle the lack of sleep any more than I could. I told him this and he said if he knew it was coming he could be prepared for it. Right. He knew my company was coming.

He mentioned getting his hair cut and that Wendy could do it, but said that I won’t let her come over. I never said that. Hell, I’d be her friend as long as she didn’t try to pit one of us against the other.

So, this is what we agreed on… No overnight company. Our friends can come over (even though he doesn’t allow his over), but only if one of us isn’t here or is at least up for it. Meaning Andy can come over while he’s working and while he’s home as long as he’s not sick or tired. This is all very fair to me.

We’ll probably never partially or totally agree on some things, but we are trying and it has been a lot better since last Sunday.

To make it easier though, and cut down on time, Andy has some promising ads on apartments at nearby complexes. This way if I ever do leave, I’ll have some apartment ideas, rather than be like - where do I begin?

When I told Andy I was leaving when we both thought I would (mainly him), he was unhappy for me. He shocked me by saying he was hoping I was gonna tell him we were getting married. I wish I wanted to as much as I was once starting to, but in truth, I don’t. We still have doubts and need to learn more so we can flourish together. The flame’s burned out for me, too, although I’m sure that’d happen even if I lusted for him sexually the way I have with some women.

A couple of days ago we were out on the bench swing and he said something that really touched me. He said that he was aware he needs to change too. This was great, cuz for a while there I felt as if he was pinning it all on me.

Well, I’m gonna go grab a bite to eat and maybe edit some stuff.

Later…

This still blows my mind! It’s late October and hot out. Today is beyond warm. It’s hot, probably near the mid-90s. I just took a break to go rub-a-dub-dub this beautiful weather into Tam. She tells me it’s in the 40s there.

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donotfindme · 10 months

Text

The day before the move

This move has brought out aspects of my personality that I've never seen before. After months of dealing with paper review, job application, thesis writing and finishing up grad school, I find myself tearing up with my therapist again because of the same exact reasons: my brain refuses to cut me some slack.

Yesterday, I told my therapist that my anxiety these past couple of weeks is unmatched, but I do not know why it is the case. I blame it on the move, and I know it will pass, but the move or stressful times in life must not be the reason why my anxiety gets worse and worse over time. It's the lost of control. It's the trying to please people. It's the uncertainty of the future. It's the feel of a lost kid who blames herself for every single thing that goes wrong in other people's life. It's the will to serve others, but then I forget to serve myself.

I recalled a recent event to my therapist; the event went roughly like this. I received a phone call from my Mom. She told me that my nephew was hospitalized because of some flu, but my sister needs to study and take some exams, so my Mom needed to take care of my nephew for my sister. However, my Mom has been feeling under the weather as well, so my nephew being the hospital has inconvenienced her greatly, and my Mom wanted my nephew to be treated as an outpatient. This kind of conversation happens all the time, with the undertone being "I wish you were home so you could help out". My first reaction was "so what do you want me to do with this piece of information? Comfort you? Give you a solution? What do you want?". The next one is "I wish I could be home so I could help out. I wish I could do everything for you although it may mean I burn myself to death". And the last thought, with guilt, went like "I'm thankful for being away, so I can take care of myself first and foremost, instead of prioritizing everyone in my life but me. I know it is selfish of me to think so, but I'm glad I broke out of the circle and left home." My therapist smiled and told me "I'm so happy for you and proud of your growth! You of a few years ago would have stopped at the second thought, but now you have another one which is positive and focusing on you. It is the last thought which leads to action that counts". This blows my mind. I actually have grown so much, but I forget to zoom out and see my progress.

It felt good for one second, one hour, or maybe one day after talking to my therapist. But today, I'm all sad and anxious and depressed again. I need to move tomorrow, but my mind doesn't stop thinking about tasks I have to do AFTER finishing the move tomorrow. Many of these tasks are important, but I honestly cannot do much now even if I'm worried. As my therapist said "worrying about it now just means you will have to worry about it twice: now, and when it actually comes".

I feel stuck and all stuffed up inside with negative emotions. I want a good cry, a big ugly cry. I'm tired and I constantly thought about the day it all ends. Everything ends.

Anyhow, tomorrow and the next day are both moving days. I'm tired, but if I don't do it, no one would for me.

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nighwing77 · 2 years

Text

10-13-2022-Happy Trails

Here I am on my last to last working in RSVP and the Prison. Sitting here is Littleton and Bowman. What I tried to avoid-lol, but not too bad. Sooo back in March I got on Match.com due to Mr. Kough, the therapist from Birchtree. To pay for it that is. Was on it for a while but a non-paying member. But in March paid for it. Met a woman from Texas, Oklahoma, Tennessee, all over Arkansas. But all misses. Then I met Sloene from Sherwood. A 49 year old and it moved fast. Met on July 13. Then she got a job offer to Forrest City for 97K and I told her to go but she got upset that I didn’t fight with her to stay(sooo crazy). Saw Landrum for the first time in 10 years. Saw his wife and kids for the first time ever! That was cool. Then I met Jordan. Wow! She was a character. Oh well Sloene accused me of cheating, I wasn’t, and that fell apart, after about a month. Then started talking to Jordan. Took her to lunch at Cheddars and that didn’t go good. Then fell apart after that and the fact she didn’t like me joking about me being a mandatory reporter. Then Stephanie hit me up about did I wanna join her juvenile acting group. It’s like for ugly/fat people who just found out about sex. So took here out in September. WE went to Olive Garden and saw the invitation movie. $110 it cost me for both movie and dinner. Took my mom earlier to Olive Garden when I went to church. Got stung by a wasp in July on the lip bringing in books from library. Didn’t hurt too bad, but not the most pleasant thing. And tore up some of the books. That and killing roaches. Had a car accident 1st of August. Rear ended by an old woman in a silver Chrysler 300. Got hit after getting KFC after getting clothes dropped off for pressing. Cute white Italiain cop. Cute mixed bank teller that cashed my check and her white friend. I got HIRED at Benton!! God is good. Found out I got hired while I was getting my brakes checked out since they have been acting funny. That’s been a process. I got offered the job Sept 4th. After having to get all my paper work (Med Express doesn’t do physicals), I start on the 17th of October. Got a nice check from Accident-Dairyland. And a bonus from Birch. And getting another one. Music: Drake and 21 savage, Drake and Dj Khaled, Babyface and Ella mai-and those just in the last 2 weeks. Pharrell and 21 Savage and Tyler the Creator from over the summer. Shows: Sci-fi cartoon on Netflix, Rings of Power, She-Hulk, Stargirl, Star Trek: Lower Decks. Finished Atlanta over summer. And now Atlanta is back out. But my guilty pleasure starting with a episode I saw over Sloene’s house-MIKE AND MOLLY! That is my jam.

Mom is doing good, still trying to sell that land. Slowing down but still as bright as ever. Lost her car window 2 weeks ago. Getting it fixed soon.

Been trying to get in Philander school. Did pretty much all September. Looks like will have to wait to next semester.

Haven’t talked to son as much. He hasn’t really talked to be since I bought some metal dice. I pray he is okay.

Finishing this up from home after doing top and last two lines at work and emailing it to me.

Also started talking to Jennifer Ph from Pof. Went good for 2-3 weeks now fizzled out. She loves some jail dude. But she is a Laotian! Started doing 40 days as daily inspirational 1st of October.

Started Gratitude Journal. Been having bumps on my back of head got some shampoo and been using alcohol and neosporin. Was Cancer free when I got checked out on my nuts in June! Pooped in sheet and sent sample for colon cancer Wednesday sent it Thursday at lunch. Got flu shot at last doctor visit when I got poop screening last week.

Got free groceries July 26th. Guess it was a mistake. still using Tide. Girl I follow on instagram-found her on match-is pregnant. Hope baby is healthy. I think she got arificially inseminated-lol!

People been hitting me up out the blue the last 2 weeks: TK today talking about warcraft. Sonya yesterday. K. Sisco.

Thank you GOD for bringing me this far!!

I really hope the LORD directs my steps!!!

God if P/P is YOUR will let it me done and watch over me, thank you for the opportunity!!!!!!

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animazed · 5 years

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i’m starting to feel a little sick and trying to figure out why is just like

is it cuz it’s winter and it’s now getting colder out?

is it because the kids at work were sick not too long ago?

is it cuz i was off my regular meds this past week and now have to stop the withdrawal and re-regulate?

and/or bonus; the stress from dealing with the insurance company, doctor, and pharmacy, who all refused to contact the others directly, forcing me to continuously be involved in every single half-step if i wanted anything to get done?

is it cuz my period’s probably coming soon?

is it actually nothing?

Who knows!

#not me!#yay!#rant #/sigh #my mom just told me today that she is now getting over the flu after putting off getting her flu shot for a while #but i got my flu shot so at least i know that /that/‘s not it #oh and right we can’t forget about the mental and emotional turmoil that’s been peaking this week over dating and joey #cuz ya know #that has to be increasing and intensifying too #this is peak seasonal fuckage right here #i mean yea getting/being sick in general sucks #but it’s the build up that really fucks you over #:/#warmed up cream corn for dinner was nice though #and the chesed for r’perkal was so ridiculous lol #ah life #never a dull moment #hope my throat feels better tomorrow :/#should probably put more cough drops in my bag and take tylenol cold and flu tonight for good measure #‘night everyone #see you all tomorrow

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fybillielourd · 5 years

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I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.

#billie lourd #interview #star wars #Carrie Fisher

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

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Sweet Pea//the other one (part 2)

hey! no prompts tonight because i have been super busy today and just haven’t had the time to write them, however i will be working on them again from tomorrow so yay! anyway, to say sorry, here’s the second part of ‘the other one’. this is the first part! i know it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger so hopefully this makes up for it! enjoy!

“Sweet Pea!” You squeal when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Your feet kick against the dusty ground as he lifts you up, but when he chuckles in your ear and his hot breath fans over your cheeks, you soon still in his arms, now trying to focus on settling your heartbeat.

He smells like sunscreen and vanilla ice cream and you feel yourself become dizzy, now suddenly extremely thankful that he’s still holding you. You look around at the rest of your friends, none of them paying attention to the two of you, they’re all two busy either sun bathing or jumping into the water that fills the quarry.

Despite the warnings from your mom about swimming in the water, you have already been in. The rest of her warnings have proven useless, ‘don’t hang out with serpents’ and ‘be nice to your sister’ are the two main ones she’s told you for as long as you can remember, and they’re both stupid.

Sweet Pea spins you around and the two of you laugh loudly, causing a few of the serpents to look in your direction. You end up making eye contact with Toni when he eventually stops and she sends you a knowing look that makes you quickly drop her gaze.

“Put me down!” You giggle once you’ve recovered and he reluctantly lets go. You turn around to face him a bright smile on your face that fades when you look at him. Your jaw drops at the sight of his bare chest, Toni and Fangs cough behind you and you quickly close your mouth and look at his face instead.

“Like what you see?” He asks and wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and shove him slightly, deciding that maybe it’s best not to face him right now. So instead you turn around and look for Sadie who’s been put in charge of the drinks.

“No, I’m just surprised to see you without your serpent jacket, I thought it was attached.” You tease and he huffs.

“So, where did the Mayor of Riverdale think her doting daughter is today?”

“Shopping with Betty and Veronica.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.

“Damn.” He sighs and you frown at him.

“What?” You ask, your tone filled with worry and your eyes scan over him, trying to find out what’s wrong.

“It’s just. I don’t know how you’re gonna explain this.”

“Explain wha-” You furrow your eyebrows and watch as his frown turns into a smirk, but he cuts you off by picking you up and throwing you into the water. He runs and jumps in after you and you shove him when you both come up for air.

“I hate you so fucking much.” You say, despite the large grin on your face.

“No you don’t.”

Your tears rolls down the glossy paper and onto your pyjama pants and you throw the photo to the floor. It’s no longer a happy memory, a candid moment between the two of you captured by Toni, it’s a reminder of what used to be.

It reminds you of something you thought was real, when in reality it’s never been.

Lying back on your bed, you stare up at the ceiling and count the cracks. It’s the only thing you’ve done for the past two days. You manage to convince your mom that you’ve caught something so you don’t have to go to school and she won’t let anyone in.

Josie has tried on multiple occasions to talk to you, but anytime she even tries to, you shut her down by staring at her until she leaves. Toni had tried to catch up with you when you found out, but you practically ran all the way home and she knew better than to try to follow.

She knows you need time.

You need to be alone to try and figure out where this leaves you.

You’re not entirely sure you know who you are right now. You spent so long loving Sweet Pea and wishing for a future that could be.

You searched for clues and hints in his texts, wondered what it meant when he hugged you for what felt like longer than normal, and tried to stop yourself from smiling when he bought you random gifts ‘just because’.

Now though, now that you’ve taken off your rose tinted glasses and seen the world for the grey bleakness that it actually is, you realize that none of those things meant anything. And all those nights spent worrying that something was wrong, was because of her. He loved her, and not you.

You heard the hurt in his voice when she shut him down, it’s how you sound when you talk about him. You know what it looks like when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, and now so does he.

And it’s shit.

After a week of moping in your bed and faking a migraine, your mom finally forces you to go to school, despite your protests of not wanting to kill anyone with your totally real flu.

And so finally, you clutch your books close to your chest and cross the threshold of Riverdale High.

It looks no different, nobody looks at you, nobody even acknowledges you, something they have never done. It’s like you’re the most important McCoy, why would they? And so you breath a sigh of relief as you make your way to your first class.

You pass Josie and her lips part as if to say something, however they quickly close again and you pass her in silence.

Your almost at your class when you hear your name being called and you curse quietly.

What does he want?

You want to cry. Why does he have to keep being here? Why does he have to keep forcing you to remember that he exists and that he doesn’t want you.

“Y/n, please?” He begs, his voice cracking and you feel your heart break all over again. You take a shaky breath before forcing yourself to turn around and face the brown eyed boy who’s staring at you with so much sadness in his eyes that you think he’s gonna burst.

“Yes?” You force out and try to smile at him, however it comes out as more of a grimace and so you just purse your lips and wait for him to answer.

“Can we talk?” He asks and you look behind you.

“I er- I have a class to get to.”

“I know.” He nods. “Chemistry with Miss Click. You sit beside Neil and he throws pencils at his brother Will who sits on the other side of you. Toni sits three rows behind you and constantly passes notes to you that sometimes make you laugh so hard you snort and then have to pretend that you’re just coughing when Miss Click asks you if you’re okay. On Thursdays, Olivia is always late, and when she does turn up she always offers you the last of her gum because you help her catch up on what she’s missed.”

“Sweet Pe-”

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupts and you sigh before reluctantly nodding.

The corridor suddenly empties and you feel yourself shrink under his gaze.

“I know you love me.” He says and your eyes widen.

“What?! I er- who told you?”

“Fangs.” He says and you let out a deflated sigh. “But it’s okay, because I’m glad he did. It made me realize something. I know what classes you have and who you sit beside in each one. I know that when you’re sad you always want chocolate and when you’re angry you want tea. You cry when you see a cute cat on the street and you always pet dogs no matter what, even if they are barking at you and are literally about to rip your arm off. You don’t like dark chocolate but you’ll eat biscuits covered in dark chocolate, and you like peas but you don’t like sweetcorn because you think they try too hard to be different. I know the excuses you tell your mom and I know the ridiculously stupid lengths you go to to keep them up like bribing the chess club to pretend that you’re apart of them and even convincing the yearbook committee to publish a picture of you with the club.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You smile sadly and he mirrors your expression.

“Because, I know you. I know how much you love all of us and I know how hard you fought for all of us. I know that you always buy Fangs Twizzlers whenever you’re at a shop, and you buy me Twinkies and Toni Milk Duds because they make us happy. I know all of these useless facts about you, and I know so much more. And I know nothing about Josie, other than what everybody else knows. I know her as a McCoy, but I know you as Y/n. And-and, I love you Y/n.”

“What?” Your jaw drops and he bites his lip anxiously.

“I am so, so sorry. I should have told you it’s just Josie didn’t want anybody to know and I wanted to make her happy. But I made you and everybody else worry and I ended up making you miserable. I have been an idiot. I thought I liked Josie but I think I was just pretending that I didn’t love you because I didn’t want to ruin what he had if you didn’t feel the same way.

“Sweet Pea.” You laugh nervously, not really sure what else to do. He reaches out and grabs your hands, pulling you close to him.

“You’re not the other one Y/n, you’re the right one.”

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

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bahamas (iv)

warning: everyone is drunk ! , sexual references

wordcount: 6k

_________

The next morning, Allie strolled out of the bedroom with a messy braid, a cheesy grin and a blush that started the second James began to whistle. Colin flipped him off immediately, still as sullen as the night before. “Nice of you to show up.”

“I was busy.” She retorted, then immediately shook her head. “Not like - I just showered.”

“Did loverboy join? What’s his name again?” James questioned, sliding Allie a full plate.

“Carloooooos.” Julia sang, laughing as Allie glared at her. “I saw him sneak out this morning. He said hello. Nice guy.”

“He said he had to get to his shift, he teaches scuba lessons during the day. If we’re interested he said he could snag us a discount.” Allie shrugged, popping a blueberry into her mouth.

“Does he teach underwater basket weaving too?” Colin asked dryly, scowling.

“Is that a real thing?” Rafe asked, looking like he was actually considering the activity for a moment.

Sophie glanced over at him, concerned. “Baby.”

“It’s not?”

Julia shook her head at the couple. “I thought we had a boat today?”

“We do. We’re going sailing.” Rafe confirmed, glancing at his watch. “We’ve got an hour, but we need to pack snacks and drinks. Colin, can you help me grab the cooler from the attic?”

“You can’t grab it yourself?” Colin grumbled, pushing away from the table to follow Rafe up.

“No. It’s too big.” Rafe glanced behind him, making sure they were out of earshot of the group as he led him up the stairs. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” Colin repeated, immediately getting defensive. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, you’re being a dick about Allie’s hookup. No one would say a word if you brought a girl home.” He coughed as he unlocked the attic door and a small layer of dust flew up, the house unused since the beginning of summer. “Actually, maybe you should get laid, you’ll chill out.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then quit being an asshole to Allie. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Colin sighed, helping Rafe tug the Yeti cooler down from one of the shelves. Once it was down, he glanced over at Rafe. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Sorry.”

“Apologize to her, not me.” Rafe told him, looking Colin dead in the eye like he could figure out some hidden secret if he stared at him long enough.

“I will.”

“Good. Just because you’re jealous -”

“I’m not jealous, just don’t like this guy -”

“Ha!” Rafe pointed his finger in Colin’s face, eyebrows raised. “I knew it! You like Allie.”

Colin froze, immediately looking towards the door then lowered his voice. “You can’t tell.”

“Wait, shit, seriously? I was just trying to get a rise out of you...Colin. Seriously? You mean it?”

“The tiniest of crushes. She’s cute.” Colin affirmed, regretting telling him already. “Just - you can’t say anything.”

“I won’t. Brother swear.” Rafe nodded, extending his hand to Colin. “Don’t you dare fuck with her though.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Colin paused, not taking his hand to shake. “That includes Sophie.”

“Fuck, Colin, for real? You know she doesn’t count.” Rafe whined, running his hand through his hair. “She’s gonna get it out of me. Somehow. She always knows when I’m hiding something.”

“I mean it.” Colin shook his head. “No Sophie. No James, and especially no Julia.”

“Damnit.” Rafe sighed, but grabbed Colin’s hand and shook it. “Fine. You’d better apologize and start making moves or shut the fuck up and let her do her thing, though. No judging.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good.”

The door banged open, startling them both as James stood in the doorway. “Yo. You two can’t handle this thing?”

“No, we got it.” Rafe shook his head, lifting it easily on his own to haul downstairs. “They send you up here to check?”

“Yeah, Jules started asking questions about last night and Allie clearly didn’t want to gossip with me around, so Sophie sent me up here to get you guys.” James paused, thinking. “She muttered something about you probably getting stuck in some secret fancy passageway. You gonna tell her this house is your dad’s company house, not some family heirloom?”

“I’m pretty sure Sophie wants to know as little as possible about what my family owns. I think she cried for a solid hour on the first night here.” Rafe frowned, taking each step one at a time.

“You tell her about the deb thing yet?” James asked.

“Deb thing?” Colin echoed. “Sarah’s ball? What does Sophie have to do with that?”

“...No. I’m not sure. I think she’ll either agree or rip my head off, no in between.” Rafe sighed. “Sarah’s getting presented at the debutante ball in the spring, Rose suggested Sophie gets presented as well with me as her escort, and somehow my dad thought that was a good idea. Establish her with high society, or whatever. I don’t think he’s forgiven me for breaking up with Brooklyn a week before her deb ball. Apparently me being her escort would have been good for us. Our family.”

James cocked his head. “She broke up with you.”

“Whatever.”

“Huh. Well. That conversation should be fun for you.” Colin patted Rafe on the shoulder just as they got down the attic stairs. Rafe now sported a thin layer of sweat from hauling the cooler down alone, despite him already having no shirt on.

“Oh yeah. Looking forward to it.” Rafe deadpanned, then put on a grin as they all re-entered the kitchen. He didn’t miss the way Sophie’s eyes trailed over his exposed chest, the way she leaned forward on the counter and bit her lip a little. “Found it!”

“Excellent.” Julia clapped her hands together and began filling it with a selection of drinks she’d laid out on the counter. “Sophie, stop eye-fucking your boyfriend and help me out.”

Sophie snapped to attention as Rafe held back a laugh at Julia’s lack of tact. “I wasn’t -”

“Yes you were. Drinks.”

Sophie shook her head, handing Julia drinks with a rising blush on her cheeks.

“I don’t mind, sweetheart.” Rafe murmured to her lowly with a grin, trailing his hand down her spine ‘til he rested his palm on her lower back.

“Ew, we just ate.” Allie complained, pushing her plate away from her. “Thank you for pancakes, though.”

“No problem. It’s my specialty.” Rafe beamed, gathering up the plates and sticking them in the dishwasher.

“Only ‘cause you can’t cook anything else.” Colin pointed out, dodging as Rafe aimed a square punch at his arm.

“He’s not wrong.” Sophie agreed, reaching up to kiss Rafe’s cheek.

“Aw. Thanks for breakfast, Mom and Dad.” James grinned, patting them both on the head.

Sophie whirled on James immediately, only held back by Rafe slipping his arm around her waist (more to protect James than her). “Stop. I mean it.”

“What are you gonna do?” James taunted, grinning. “Hit me? Rafe won’t let you.”

“I will, if you don’t shut up.” Rafe replied, shaking his head imperceptibly behind Sophie’s back.

“What? You weren’t pregnant, it was just the flu - hey!” James took off running the second Rafe let Sophie go, who immediately sprinted after him through the house.

“Fuck off, James!” She yelled, chasing him down the hall.

“I didn’t mean it!” He yelped as she threw someone’s flip flop at him, nailing him in the shoulder with surprising aim. “I’m sorry! Rafe! Help me!”

Everyone else watched from the kitchen, thoroughly entertained. “You gonna help?” Allie asked, glancing at Rafe.

“Nah. He deserves it.” Rafe shrugged. “They’ll get tired soon enough.”

“She only likes fighting when she’s flirting anyways.” Julia added. “I swear all your arguments before you two were dating was just foreplay.”

“Doubt it. She could be pretty mean.” Rafe grinned at Sophie fondly as she strolled back into the kitchen with a triumphant smile, then looped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Who’s mean?” Sophie asked.

“You.” James informed her as he followed her back to the group, dramatically rubbing a red mark on his shoulder.

“Okay, both of you, knock it off.” Rafe took charge like always, glancing at his watch. “Everyone go get ready, we’re getting picked up in twenty to get to the dock. Don’t forget sunscreen.”

“You really make it too easy.” Julia rolled her eyes, but chose to refrain from calling him Dad again for the fourth time that morning.

“So everyone knows?” Sophie asked the group, frowning.

“For the record, I was team baby. I think you guys would have very cute kids.” James said, already flinching away as Sophie lifted her hand toward him.

“Yeah. Rafe accidentally let it slip when I asked why you looked like hell that weekend.” Colin confirmed. Sophie had stayed at Rafe’s instead of her house so he could take care of her, and Colin had found her sleeping on the bathroom floor curled up in a ball at 2pm when Rafe was in class. (He decided not to wake her up, thinking she was just wildly hungover, and had texted Rafe a photo instead.)

“Great. Fantastic. But if one more person calls me Mom this week, I’m going to rip your heads off.”

“I told you you’re mean.” James grumbled, clutching his shoulder. “I’m gonna have a bruise. How am I supposed to explain that to whoever I’m hooking up with tonight?”

“Tell her you’re into pain.” Allie suggested, shrugging when everyone gave her a look. “What? It could work.”

“...Alright. Everyone go get ready, I don’t want to hear another word from anyone about their sex lives.” Rafe instructed, shooing everyone out of the kitchen as he and Sophie made it toward their room. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. I’d be more upset if we actually had a kid on the way.” Sophie conceded with a shudder at the thought. “How much did you talk about it with the boys?”

Rafe thought about it, about how James kept going on and on about how he wanted to be a godfather and how their kids would be adorable, and how Colin said he wasn’t really a huge fan of kids but obviously their kid would be family. He thought about how he shared with the guys how nice it would be to have a big family and know their kids would have several metaphorical aunts and uncles, and how much love and support they’d be surrounded by. It made him excited for the future - the far future, of course, but still.

“Not much.” He finally settled on answering, giving her a small smile. “You gonna wear my favorite suit today?”

“The pink one?”

“No, the blue one with the daisies. The one you wore in Nice?” He grinned. “Or, I guess, didn’t wear?”

She blushed, shaking her head. “I think that one’s dangerous to wear around you with our friends.”

“Any bikini is, sweetheart.”

“Control yourself.” She flicked his shoulder in warning. “I have a surprise for you tonight. Don’t let me forget.”

He perked up immediately, smirking. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

Sophie just shrugged. “You’ll see.”

“I’ll see...is it a leave-the-bar-early kind of a surprise? A need-the-house-empty kind of surprise?” He asked eagerly, his smirk broadening as she pulled out the light blue bikini from her suitcase.

She laughed, pulling off her shirt before she fumbled with untangling the bikini strings. “I think you can stay quiet enough that we’ll be fine.”

“Will you be able to stay quiet?” He teased, beaming in appreciation as she stood there shirtless in front of him, tongue in between her teeth as she concentrated on fixing the bikini. (He didn’t bother to help.)

Sophie ignored him, rolling her eyes, but glanced up and caught him staring. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Don’t tempt me, you know I will.” He shot back. “I know you brought your film camera I got you for Christmas.”

“The last person I want seeing my nudes is the freshman art student that develops my film in the photo studio on campus.” She replied with an eyeroll. “Though I’m sure he’d enjoy it.”

Rafe’s face dropped as he immediately grew protective, grabbing the bikini top away from her and deftly untangled the strings. “Get dressed. We’re gonna be late.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She replied innocently, biting the inside of her cheek to hide back a grin.

He paused, considering, then shook his head. “No. Sorry, no, can’t vibe with that. Find a different kink please.”

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, James paid me $10 to tell you that.”

Rafe huffed, tugging on his swim trunks and shoved his feet back into his boat shoes, then promptly slammed open the door, striding back to the group. “James! Fuck you!”

________

Later, once everyone gathered their things and made it down to the dock after their driver for the week picked them up, the boat driver helped them all onto the boat, offering his hand. He was younger, around their age or a little bit older, and Rafe scowled as the driver’s eyes lingered maybe a little too long on Sophie’s bikini top. Then the driver politely leaned over to Rafe to inform him that Sophie had the tag sticking out of her top, hanging on by a thread, and he dropped his scowl quicker than it had appeared.

It only took them twenty minutes before they cracked into the cooler, everyone satisfied with a drink in hand, and two failed attempts to go head-to-head in a shotgun contest with James left Sophie drunk within the hour. She had her sunglasses perched askew on her nose, eyes closed as she rested her head in Rafe’s lap, lying down on the seat next to him.

“This trip is good for you. I think this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you all year.” Julia commented, snapping a quick photo of the couple.

“I do feel very relaxed.” Sophie hummed, taking Rafe’s hand and starting to play with his fingers. “Hm. Relaxed. Relaxation. That’s nice.”

“You’re hammered.” Rafe pointed out, but looked down on her fondly. “I want you to eat soon.”

“Snacks.” She affirmed. “You’ll have to feed me. I’m not sure my jaw works anymore.”

James giggled, more tipsy than anything, but still lacked any filter. “Better for dick sucking.”

“Hey.” Rafe warned. “Watch your mouth.”

“Sorry. Just came out.” James shrugged, having zero remorse. “Can we go swimming? I wanna see dolphins. Do they have dolphins here?”

“Some dolphins. I’ll take you.” Their driver interjected, changing direction of their boat.

“Dolphins can travel up to 80 miles a day,” Allie informed them, confused when she got weird looks from the groups. “What? I’m from Florida, I wanted to be a dolphin trainer growing up. Everyone did.”

“Aw. You would have been good at that, Al.” Julia told her, topping off her drink. “Sophie, no sleeping.”

“M’ not sleeping.”

“No drunk napping.”

“M’ not drunk.”

“Well now you’re just lying.” Rafe told her with a smile, gently nudging her up. “C’mon, I need you to drink water for me. Have some snacks.”

“Here, Sophie.” Colin waved the bag of Sun Chips under her nose, grinning. “Try some. Yummy.”

She batted it away, frowning as she leaned back into Rafe. “Everyone leave me alone.”

He pushed her back upright immediately, ignoring her frown, and pressed a water bottle to her lips. “Drink.”

“Do the thing.” She lowered her voice, challenging him with a smirk.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna -”

“Then I’m not drinking.”

He sighed, resigned. “Drink water or I’m not letting you go out tonight.”

“Let me? You don’t let me do anything.” She argued, grabbing the water bottle away and took a long drink.

Rafe just nodded, clearly not in the mood for a fight. He knew Sophie was in charge of the relationship, but the second he said he wasn’t comfortable with something, she listened right away. “Okay. Sure.”

“Trouble in paradise,” James sing-songed, only to receive a glare from Sophie.

“You’re still on my hit list.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You and Julia are on it.”

Julia sighed, glancing over. “You’re really still hung up on that?”

Sophie sat up a little more, her eyes lighting up, and Rafe braced for an argument. “I told you no -”

“And we’re both grown adults, Soph, we can make our own decisions -”

“You don’t even like him -”

“Ouch.” James mumbled, shrinking back into his seat as if he couldn’t be seen.

“Hey!” Allie clapped, standing and putting herself in between the girls. “Both of you, let it go. We’re not doing this again. Julia, drink more. Sophie, no more drinking.”

“But -”

“No.” She crossed her arms, staring them both down until they sighed, mumbling apologies. “Thank you.”

The boys all watched in silence, impressed, until Colin spoke up. “Right, well, I’m gonna go swim.” He and James nodded, jumping off the back of the boat, and Allie and Julia took a second but followed suit.

Sophie moved to join in until Rafe grabbed her around the waist, protective as he pulled her onto his lap. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yes. I feel good.” She promised, but couldn’t fully meet his gaze and was swaying with the rocking of the boat. “Can we go swim?”

“Will you wear a life jacket?”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“It’ll be more embarrassing if you drown.” He pushed her hair back, out of her face, and kissed her forehead. “You’re way too drunk right now, you’re making me nervous.”

She frowned, placing her hand on his cheek. “I make you nervous?”

“No, I’m just worried something’s gonna happen. Life jacket? Please?” He pulled it from under the seat, offering it to her.

Sophie rolled her eyes but let him put it on, strapping it tight across her chest for good measure. “Now can we go?”

He scooped her up with a grin and stood on the seat, ready to jump. “Now we can go.”

“No, Rafe - wait no!” She screamed, grabbing around his neck as he jumped into the water with her in his arms, plunging down and letting her go to float back up.

James snorted, splashing water toward her. “Nice life jacket.”

“I’d like a life jacket.” Allie interjected, closing her eyes and floating on her back. “Wouldn’t have to do any work.”

“Hold on - Allie, are you high?” Colin questioned, swimming closer and poking her arm. She’d only had half of a drink since they were on the boat, but was still acting strange and zoned out the whole day.

“Carlos gave me an edible. I ate it before we got on the boat.” She mumbled in reply. “I have more if you want it.”

“You took sketchy drugs from a sketchy guy?!” Colin exclaimed, much louder than necessary.

Rafe swam over with a frown, shaking his head like a dog. “Who’s taking drugs?”

“The bartender -”

“Carlos.” Allie corrected.

“The bartender gave Allie drugs.” Colin cut her off. “And now she’s high and probably something else.”

Rafe cocked his head, looking over Allie. “Al? You good?”

“I feel nice.” She replied, moving to tread water and smiled at them. “So nice.”

“Jesus Christ.” Colin cursed, while Rafe kicked him under the water.

Julia swam over, tugging Sophie’s hand to drag her along. “Oh, it’s finally kicking in?”

“You knew?” Rafe questioned, pulling Sophie into his arms as she tried to be subtle and unclip the life jacket.

“Of course I knew.” Julia replied. “Don’t freak out, I looked at it, it’s fine.”

“Oh, you looked at it, great. Thanks, Julia, I didn’t know you were the resident expert on drugs.” Colin huffed.

“Just weed, actually, I haven’t done anything else -”

James seemed to finally realize the whole group was congregated instead of doing their own thing, like he was. He swam under the water, grabbing Rafe’s ankle - who immediately screamed like a child and kicked James in the face. James bobbed up straightaway with his hand clapped to his nose and blood trickling from it like a leaky faucet. “What the fuck?!”

“Why’d you grab me?!” Rafe defended, letting go of Sophie. “This is on you.”

James launched himself onto Rafe, grabbing at him, and the two promptly started wrestling in the water, despite everyone’s protests. Colin stuck his arm in between them to break them up after a few minutes, tugging Rafe off of James and being careful not to hit James’ nose again. “Hey! Hey. Everyone back on the boat.”

“C’mon, Colin.” James argued, but hauled himself back up onto the boat anyways when Colin tapped his watch and reminded them all of their dinner reservations.

Once they all clambered back onto the boat and James had a towel and a can of beer pressed to his nose, the boat driver started taking them back to the shore. Sophie had sobered up somewhat and Allie was asleep with her head in Julia’s lap, with Julia absent-mindedly stroking her hair. “Hey, Rafe? Do you have any good recs for somewhere we could go for dinner?”

Rafe furrowed his brow, confused. “We’re going to dinner tonight, what do you mean?”

“No, no, tomorrow. I was thinking it could be just the girls, you guys could do something else -”

“No.” He replied, firm. “None of you are going anywhere alone. I don’t trust any of you when you’re drinking.”

Allie stirred, finally opening her eyes as she’d been listening in on the conversation. “We could invite Carlos to chaperone,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d love to tag along. Drag you into some trafficking ring too.” Colin grumbled.

James pulled the towel away from his face, confused. “So that’s a no to guy’s night?”

“No one is splitting up.” Rafe insisted, firm, and reached over to press the towel back to James’ nose.

Sophie cocked her head at her boyfriend. “Where is this coming from?”

“Look, I don’t even let Sarah go out alone here, and we’ve been coming here for years, she knows this place like the back of her hand. I don’t want something to happen to you guys.” He slung his arm around Sophie’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Any of you. I mean it.”

“Man, even my own father isn’t this protective.” Julia remarked casually, then immediately regretted it upon seeing Rafe’s wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But that’s final say.”

“Okay, got it.” Julia raised her hands in defense. “So. Back to Carlos. Do you think he’d get all of us drugs if we had a threesome with him?” She suggested, only for everyone to stare blankly at her. “Oh my god, I’m just asking. It’s not like I suggested meth.”

“Who’s in the threesome?” James questioned, cocking his head.

Julia ignored him, barreling on. “That’s, like, an appropriate thing to ask, right? It feels like an island vibe. He’s gotta know where to get something.”

“Something.” Rafe repeated.

“Yeah.” She directed her question back toward him. “Hypothetically, if he could get us coke, would you say no? That’s like a rich person drug.”

“Rafe hasn’t done coke.” Sophie interrupted, assuredly, then frowned as Rafe seemed contemplative. “Right?”

“...No. Had to think. Been in the room, though, so probably got something secondhand.”

“That’s literally not how coke works.” Julia dismissed.

“I wouldn’t. I’m pretty sure that ruins the lining of your nose.” James supplied helpfully - Julia nodded in agreement, considering this newfound information.

“I’d consider doing molly.” Colin added. “But not from him.”

“Oh, like that makes a difference.” Allie deadpanned, always quick with the comeback while the rest of the group registered their surprise, because - Colin? Drugs? Two words that didn’t go together.

“It does, actually, but I get drug tested at NASA every single week, so.” Colin shrugged. “Not worth losing my future job.”

“Right. No one answered my question.” Julia sighed. “I’m open to a threesome with Allie or James. Rafe and Sophie, you’re out. Colin, I -”

“Yeah. Agreed.” Colin nodded, then hurriedly added, “I’m not saying I’m down for a threesome -”

“Hold on, why are we out?” Sophie frowned. “We’re hot.”

“Neither of you would share. It wouldn’t be fun.” James pointed out, only for Julia to nod enthusiastically in agreement.

“Exactly. You two are too, like, in love or whatever. It’s sick.”

“We would be great in a threesome.” Sophie argued, crossing her arms.

“You are too damn competitive.” Rafe mumbled to himself, shaking his head. “No one is having a threesome, no one is doing drugs. Not until we’re back under American laws. I’m not bailing anyone out of jail here.”

“Boo, Dad.” James grumbled, making Sophie lean toward him and raise her hand.

“James -”

“Okay, Sophie, chill, you can be the only one to call him Daddy -”

“Oh god, gross -”

“Home again!” Their driver announced with a grin, bumping the boat a little against the dock. The group snapped to attention, with James and Colin grabbing the coolers and Rafe helping the girls off the boat. He clapped the driver on the back as he was last to get off, murmuring something in his ear and slipped a wad of cash into his hand.

_____

After dinner, the group was dropped back at the house with the same driver they’d had all week, who now knew them all by name and knew way too much gossip about each of them. He knew that Rafe always sat in the front, the girls crammed into the back and James and Colin shared the middle, unless the girls were too drunk to crawl all the way back safely, and the boys would trade. They were all tired from a long day in the sun and agreed to call it with a lowkey night back at the house.

Once they’d all changed into comfier clothes, rather than how they dressed up for dinner, they congregated in the living room, sprawled out on the couches.

“All right, games. I have...uh…” Rafe rifled through the cabinet under the television, coming up short with only a deck of cards. “There’s just this and a poker set. We didn’t exactly play family games growing up.”

“That’s alright. We can play B.S.” Julia concluded, clapping her hands together with a grin.

“Last time we played B.S. it ended in a screaming match, and you and Colin didn’t talk for a week.” Allie reminded her, wary. Drunken card games in their group usually resulted in made-up rules that were only kept on track if someone wrote down the rules to lock down any possible room for arguments.

James and Sophie returned from the kitchen with two bottles of Sprite, two bottles of lemonade, a handle of vodka and six shot glasses. “Okay! Ready!”

“What the - guys, I said a chill game night.” Rafe raised his eyebrows as Sophie passed out the shot glasses.

“Yeah, we decided it’s our only senior spring break so we want to enjoy it.” Sophie told him, smacking a kiss to his cheek. “We’re playing B.S? Whose rules?”

“Normal rules, for the first round. Second round everyone adds a rule as you get away with bullshit.” Julia declared, shuffling and dealing the cards out to everyone with a surprising amount of skill. “Next birthday goes first, and if you don’t get away with it you have to take a shot. Or chug your drink for five seconds?”

“That’s me. And player’s choice, I think.” Sophie decided, sitting up and angling her cards away from everyone, looking a little too contemplative. She placed her card down, and Colin immediately shook his head. “Bull.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Take the shot, Sophie.” Colin insisted, flipping her card to reveal a jack instead of the needed 2.

“Fuck.” She muttered, following suit.

Rafe shoved her cup of water closer to her before she could pour herself a vodka lemonade instead, shaking his head. “You’re not even sober right now. Finish this first.”

“It’s alright, I’m fine.” She waved him off. “You’re next.”

The game continued on, escalating dramatically as they kept playing. By the time the first big bullshit was called, Allie had to accept at least 30 cards, the group had all taken at least one shot, Julia had been banished to the corner for a whole round, James was wearing Julia’s pink sunglasses upside down and Rafe had made out with Sophie three times, due to a rule he’d made up.

“Total bullshit.” Allie giggled as James placed five cards down at once on top of a huge stack. She was rivaling Sophie for drunkest of the group by far, slumped on the couch with her arms wrapped around one of the pillows as she wore a happy grin.

“Is not.”

“Is too!”

“Challenge!” Julia exclaimed, setting up two cups at the end of the table and handed them each a ping pong ball. (No one was sure when this was added to the rules, but everyone accepted it easily.) “Ladies and gentlemen, please stand.”

The two stood and took each other’s hands, laughing as they followed the customary pre-pong rule of spinning each other three times before taking their aim. “That was four! That was four.” Allie protested, having to grab James’ arm for balance as the room spun behind her eyes. “You need an extra spin.”

“Wait, dude, you put five down.” Colin pointed out, cocking his head. “Fucking idiot, take the cards.”

“Julia said challenge!”

“But you cheated!”

“The whole point of the game is cheating, dumbass!” James retorted, shaking his head. “She said challenge!”

“I said challenge!” Julia cried out, tapping her shot glass against the glass table to regain order. “Now throw.”

Both of them missed their mark terribly, James’ ball falling short and Allie accidentally nailing Rafe in the forehead with hers. “Sorry! Shit, sorry!”

“Oh, no, baby, are you okay?” Sophie asked worriedly, smoothing her hand over Rafe’s forehead as she combed through his hair with her fingers.

“I’m fine. I’m not sober.” He replied, humming with a smile as he leaned into her touch.

Everyone stared at the two of them with grins as they realized Rafe’s mistake in his own rule that he’d made up. The couple took too long to realize, slowly glancing around at the group. “What?” Sophie asked, sitting up straight. “What happened?”

“James missed the shot.” Colin grinned at Rafe, way too smug. “Pucker up.”

Rafe’s face dropped as it clicked for him - he’d made up the rule that a missed shot from falling short meant that person had to make out with the player who’d gone before for at least two minutes. It was a carefully calculated rule, he’d played pong with everyone in the group countless times and knew that everyone besides Sophie tended to overshoot, almost every single time.

Almost.

James laughed at Rafe’s expression, crooking a finger toward him. “Come here, buddy. Do you want me to get chapstick? Soph, do you have chapstick?”

“Do I have to?” Rafe groaned, standing up and striding over to sit next to James on the couch.

“It’s your rule.” Julia pointed out. Sophie shrugged in agreement, not quite putting together all the pieces.

“I’m really honored to be doing this with you, seriously.” James joked. “Sophie, can I touch him?”

“Just the head.”

Julia snorted, and she and James exchanged equally delighted grins at Sophie’s accidental innuendo.

Colin pulled up the timer on his phone, flashing it toward them. “Okay...alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Fucking hell.” Rafe sighed, but leaned in to make the first move, eager to get it over with. Both of them had their eyes closed and the kiss was relatively tame, albeit impossibly long.

“Oh.” Sophie murmured quietly, unsure how she felt, but uttered a warning “hey” when James’ hand automatically went to Rafe’s face. She decided she felt mainly neutral about it, but would be a lot more neutral if it was James and Colin kissing instead.

Julia was quiet for the first time all night, unable to tear her eyes away as she watched. Allie couldn’t resist a quick photo but giggled, hiding her face in Colin’s shoulder.

“Hey. Hey! Hey!” Sophie yelled the second the timer went off, leaning over and grabbing at Rafe’s arm to tear him away. “No more.”

James had his eyes closed and had unconsciously chased Rafe’s lips with his as they were pulled apart, but made a show of wiping his mouth afterward. “Okay. Well. Mark that under something I thought I’d never do.”

“And you’ll never do it again, so I hope you enjoyed it.” Sophie scowled, wrapping her arms around Rafe from behind and pulled him back to lean against her chest. “Stupid fucking rule, Rafe.”

“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” Rafe laughed, clearly unbothered as he tilted his head to press a short kiss to Sophie’s neck.

She grasped his head in both her hands, leaning down to press a sound kiss to his lips, as if it was a mark of ownership. “There. No one kiss my boyfriend again, I’m getting more snacks.” Sophie declared, getting up and heading into the kitchen.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m lowkey horny right now.” Julia muttered much louder than she intended.

“Thanks for sharing, Jules.” Allie laughed.

Julia glanced toward James with a desperate look, pressing her legs together. “Are we done playing? Or do you guys want to keep going?”

Oblivious as always, James shrugged, unfazed, moving back to his seat beside Julia. “Whatever you want. I’m down to keep playing.”

“Fuck, I need to get laid.” Julia mumbled much quieter so only he could hear, and he straightened up immediately like a bolt of lightning had shot up his spine.

“Actually, I’m good. Tired, actually. Yeah. I’m gonna - yeah.” He stood, offering his hand to Julia. “You look tired too.”

“Guys.” Rafe warned, glancing toward the kitchen where Sophie was still raiding the cabinet for any leftover snacks.

“Night, y’all.” Julia grinned, ignoring Rafe’s warning as the two strode off hand in hand to Julia’s room, making sure to go around so Sophie wouldn’t catch them.

Rafe sighed, but bit back a smile as he saw a dirty text pop up from Sophie, with a very detailed idea of how they could use up the rest of the whipped cream in the fridge. “Alright. Night, guys.” He promptly got up and left, leaving Colin and Allie alone.

“And then there were two.” The tension hung thick in the air as Allie leaned on Colin, giggly. “Fuck, I am so drunk.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t dare move, especially as she took his arm into her lap and started tracing lines as she connected freckles on his skin.

“I think I’m gonna call the bartender.”

“No you’re not.” Colin frowned, shaking his head. “No. You need sleep.”

She yawned, blinking up at him. “I’m pretty sure my room’s occupied.”

“You can take my bed.” He offered immediately, resisting the weird urge to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s fine.”

“Where are you gonna sleep?” She asked, reaching up and tracing her finger along his cheekbone. “Your eyes are pretty, did you know that? You have a freckle in your right eye.”

“A freckle?” He smiled. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

“It is.” She insisted. “I can go in your bed?”

“Yeah, I’ll take the couch.”

“Okay.” She agreed right away, hauling herself up. “I gotta brush my teeth.”

“Good thing your bathroom’s shared with mine.” Colin reminded her, following her down the hallway. “Unless you really want to go into your room while...that’s going on.”

“No, thank you.” She shook her head quickly, stretching and nearly smacking him in the face. “Sorry! Sorry.”

“It’s alright, just be careful.” He laughed, ushering her into the bathroom. “Do your thing, I’ll fix my bed.”

They’d all changed into comfortable clothes and showered before playing the game, anticipating intoxication, but Colin still wished he had a reason to offer her something of his to wear to bed. He re-made his bed, even fluffing the pillow, before tugging on a hoodie.

Allie returned a few minutes later, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Colin.�� She touched his arm as she passed, crawling into bed.

“Of course. No problem. Yell if you need something, yeah?” He told her, smiling back before leaving and turning out the light, resigned to a night on the couch.

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #outer banks #rafe x sophie #college rafe #mine #frat rafe

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thirstyforcharacters · 4 years

Text

When the Universe Collides (Sam Wilson x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how smacking yourself in the face with a cabinet was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hi! Since the first episode of Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out today, I wanted to write something for Sam! He’s super underrated and deserves more love! Also, this soulmate AU is extremely self-indulgent and has absolutely nothing to do with the TV show, but tbh I don’t care. Hope you all enjoy it too! (no y/n, no pronouns) (PS: any italicized text is Sam texting and the italicized and bold text is the reader texting!)

Warnings: mentions of a stab wound (nothing explicit), cursing I guess

WC: 2.2 k

Your soulmate must have one hell of a job.

Almost every day, you woke up with dark bruises covering your body. It seemed that whenever one faded, another took its place. At completely random times, you would double over in aches that you certainly didn’t inflict upon yourself. One time, in the middle of the night, you woke up with pain in your stomach so intense, it felt like someone had stabbed you! It turned out that it was a stab wound, but given that no one had stabbed you lately (or ever), you figured it was from your soulmate. You definitely didn’t appreciate that hospital bill.

But you still desperately wanted to meet them. Meet that person that completed you: your other half. As a teenager, you made your parents tell you the story of the day they finally met so many times, you knew it by memory. They were both in the library at college, and your mom dropped a psychology textbook on her foot! Her howl of pain was only matched by the “SON OF A BITCH” that came from your dad on the opposite side of the library. When the two of them made eye contact, they instantly knew they were the ones for each other (they were also immediately kicked out for making such a ruckus). You wanted to have that moment so badly; meeting your soulmate was a huge milestone in every person’s life, and you needed it.

Your best friend and roommate, Brianna, had met hers just two months ago. They had met at the beach, when out of nowhere, Bri had shrieked in shock and pain.

“A crab just pinched me!”

When you had looked at her foot and told her nothing was there, she was totally confused, until you saw a handsome guy with a crab hanging from his foot! He had introduced himself as Julian, and the two had been inseparable since. He was living with you now, and you had honestly never felt more lonely in your life. Sure, you had your dream career; you ran a music shop in New York City, selling instruments, making repairs, and meeting all sorts of interesting people. You had a decent apartment, a chill best friend, and the cutest Yorkie, named Muffin, on the planet. By all accounts, you had it pretty good. You were just missing your other half.

It was a rainy day in NYC. The chill of winter was still clinging onto the March air, and you shivered as you trudged from your apartment to your shop. Even though you had an umbrella to protect you from the rain, the wind blew right through the too-thin jacket you yanked off of the coatrack in a rush. Still holding your half-eaten toaster strudel in your hand, you pushed open the doors to Major Instruments and Minor Repairs, your pride and joy.

It was two floors: the first was where you sold instruments, and the repair shop was above. Acoustic panels were attached to the burnt red walls to help quiet down the place, since the hardwood floors didn’t do much to help with that. The checkout desk was directly in the center in the room. Surrounding it were reeds, bottles of valve oil, and guitar strings. Picks were placed in two clear, plastic bowls on the desk itself. In the front left corner of the room was a grand piano, situated right in the window so passersby could see whenever someone plucked its keys. The entire back wall was covered in guitars and basses. To the right of the desk was a large drumset, accompanied by a pair of drumsticks and brushes. On the right wall were string instruments; string basses and cellos were leaned against the wall, while the violins, violas, and bows were displayed on it. Woodwind and brass instruments were scattered across the room in various display cases. Instrument stands, bow rosin, and miscellaneous instrument parts were on shelves throughout the room as well. The spiral staircase leading up to the repair shop was in the back left corner of the room. Behind the staircase was the door to the back store room, where you kept your extra supplies and also where you took your breaks.

“Good morning!” called Andrew, one of your closest friends from college, from behind the desk.

You waved in reply, wandering to the back store room. You were lucky you had Andrew; you could rely on him to run the front desk while you and Brianna assisted customers on the floor. Unfortunately, Bri had the flu today, so it would just be you on the floor, which would make things a little more hectic. You hurriedly finished your strudel, took off your jacket, which left you in a black and white flannel, a matching black tank top reading “Music is Life,” black leggings, and black combat boots (you had an aesthetic to uphold), and strode back out to the main area.

“You seem in a bit of a rush. Everything okay?” asked Andrew, who was currently restocking bell covers.

You sighed, “Just a whirlwind of a morning. Bri has the flu, Muffin nearly choked on a chicken bone, I almost burned my toaster strudel, and I smacked myself in the face with my cabinet door by accident.”

“Oh, that’s where the new bruise on your eye is from,” he mused.

You snorted, “Yeah, for once it’s not from my soulmate.”

“Maybe he’s a spy. Or a superhero!”

“Yeah, or a criminal,” you joined in on the restocking, grabbing some trumpet mutes since the place opened in just half an hour, “thanks for opening up, by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied, “you know I don’t mind.”

The doorbell jingled and two of your instrument repair people, Sarah (for strings), and Natalie (for brass), entered. Natalie was lugging what was unmistakably a tuba case, while Sarah carried both of their instrument repair kits.

“Morning, ladies!” called Andrew.

“Good morning,” Sarah replied pleasantly.

Natalie huffed out a “morning” and dragged the tuba up the stairs.

“Her tuba’s broken. The tubing that holds up her mouthpiece completely snapped off. She’s going to try and repair it before her appointments today,” explained Sarah.

You winced, “That’s rough.”

Sarah dropped off both of their jackets and followed Natalie up the stairs leaving you alone with Andrew again. Soon after, Erik, your percussion guy, and John, the woodwind repairman, arrived, and it was time for the shop to open. For a while, it was just another mundane Thursday. Customers came and went. People tested the piano and drumsets, someone bought $100 worth of jazz scores, and a teenaged boy came in who somehow got a ping pong ball stuck in their trombone (you learned to never ask). But at exactly 1:47 pm, a time you would never forget, two very unexpected customers walked through the threshold of your store. You were up on a ladder, carrying a large, rather heavy, box of violin bows to situate on the wall, when you heard their voices.

“I’m telling you, Buck, I’m a wizard at the saxophone.”

“Sure, Sam. I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

“I’m serious, dude! I played all the time before I joined the military, and I picked it back up a little bit again after the whole Avengers thing. I just need to get a new one.”

“Hmm, okay. We’ll see.”

“Bastard.”

You whipped your head around and saw the Falcon and the Winter Soldier themselves in your shop. Having superheros in your place was a first. And who knew Sam Wilson played the saxophone?

Andrew offered them a cheerful greeting and directed them toward the saxophones, which happened to be near the ladder you were teetering on. Every time you leaned up to put a bow on display, it wobbled so badly you thought you were going to fall. You really needed to allocate some funds toward a new one.

As you continued to place bows on display, you heard the conversation of the two gentlemen browsing the saxophones. Apparently, Sam much preferred the tenor sax (which you happened to play, quite well you might add). Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him pick up a Selmer Paris model and inspect it. Those didn’t come cheap, but you were sure that saving the world gave a man a pretty decent paycheck.

“You think I can test it out?”

“I don’t know, dude. You should probably ask.”

You saw him nod, “Yeah, I guess so. And there’s not a reed in here, anyway. Excuse me!”

You realized he was calling you, so you craned your head to look at him. Both men were looking up at you, both with kind smiles on their faces.

“Is there any way I can get a cheap reed to test this out with,” Sam asked, “and are we even allowed to test them in store?”

You smiled back, “Yes, you can. We have test reeds at the front desk, just ask Andrew and he’ll give you one. That’s the only one you’ll get though.”

“Cool, thanks,” he replied while looking around, “nice place you’ve got here.”

Your smile grew a little wider, “Thank you! It took a little while to get it off of the ground, but I’m really proud of how it turned out.”

It was almost as if the universe wanted you to suffer. You stretched up to display yet another bow, and the ladder toppled to the ground, taking you with it! You shrieked in surprise and braced yourself for the impact with the floor.

But it never came.

Instead, you were caught in a pair of (ridiculously) muscular arms. When you looked into the arms of your hero, of course it was Sam himself. He was too handsome for his own good. The thing that stood out most to you were his deep brown eyes. And how, on the left one, was a bruise that exactly matched the one that you gave yourself this morning.

“Are you alright? That ladder must have it out for you,” joked Sam, though you could tell that he was concerned for you.

“I’m okay,” you squeaked, “thank you.”

“It’s no problem. All a part of the job.”

You nodded distractedly, still fixated on the bruise adorning his eye. He couldn’t be your soulmate, could he?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned.

“I-yes. I just got a bit, well, distracted.”

“By what?”

Well, it was now or never. You might as well just go for it.

“When did you get that bruise?”

He looked a bit surprised by the question, “The one on my eye?”

You nodded.

“This morning. It just popped up. Hurt a little bit, like something hit me in the face. Can’t be worse than what I’ve given my soulmate, though. I got stabbed in the stomach once and all I could think about was how confused and hurt they must’ve been,” came his reply.

It was him. It had to be! All of your random, serious injuries made so much more sense now.

“It did hurt,” you murmured back, “but not as much as the hospital bill.”

His face went from apologetic to elated faster than you had ever seen, “Wait, that means it’s you?”

“I think so,” you said, “I hit myself in the eye with a cabinet door this morning, and that-” you gestured to his face, “matches mine.”

“Oh, it does!” he exclaimed.

“Are you two done over there?” complained Bucky.

Thankfully, the Winter Solider had successfully rescued your box of bows.

Sam stood you up, and you could feel the embarrassment slowly creeping over you, “Yeah. Sorry about that, guys. Promise I’m not usually that clumsy.”

“Seems like you need a new ladder,” Bucky told you.

“You don’t say,” you sassed back, prompting a laugh from Sam.

Bucky then strode off to return the fallen box to Andrew. He gave Sam a knowing look as he passed by. He wasn’t very slick, though, you totally saw him.

“Listen, since apparently we’re soulmates and all, I’d love it if I got your number. I’ll take you somewhere nice to make up for all of the times I’ve gotten you hurt,” explained Sam.

You smiled bashfully, “That sounds nice.”

He handed you his phone and you input your digits. As Sam and Bucky were in the checkout line, your phone buzzed.

Hey, gorgeous. It’s your new man.

You giggled softly and looked up at him. He gave you an exaggerated wink and launched finger guns at you, making you laugh a bit harder. You entered his number into your phone and decided to send a text back.

Looking forward to you making up for all of those broken bones.

Me too.

You knew you’d be happy with him. Whenever the universe collided in this way, it always turned out for the best. If your parents and your roommate weren’t enough proof, soon you would discover it for yourself. You couldn’t wait for all of the memories you’d make together.

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btsqualityy · 4 years

Text

Assuage: Chapter 13

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: None to note.

When you woke up the next morning, you could barely breathe from the lump that was Min Yoongi resting on top of you.

Looking down, you smiled when you saw his head on your chest with his cheek smushed against your breast, his nose resting at the base of your neck. His legs were intertwined with yours and you couldn’t help but to notice how nicely your scent mixed with his as they both hung in the air.

You still couldn’t believe how quickly things had moved between you and Yoongi, when you had the time to sit down and really think about it. You had never expected to even want to be in the same room with him but now, you had definitely fallen for him and at the rate that things were going, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you fell in love with him.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Yoongi suddenly grumbled, and you smiled as you reached down and set your hands in his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“What time is it?” He asked and you glanced over at his bedside table, taking note of the time on the clock that sat there.

“8am.”

“I don’t function before 10 so let’s go back to sleep,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna have to raincheck,” you giggled. “I need to go to the Head Hall and talk to my brother about some things.”

“Everything ok?”

“More than,” you assured him. “It’s just some small stuff, nothing serious.”

“And you have to go now?” He whined. “And leave me here, all alone, with only the remnants of your nest and your scent to remind me that you were even here?”

“You are so dramatic, what the fuck Yoongi?” You laughed. “I have an appointment with a pregnant Omega at 10 so I need to go talk to Joon before he gets too busy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he relented, lifting his head and opening his eyes to look at you for the first time this morning. “Wanna meet for lunch?”

“I’m booked up all day,” you grimaced. “What about dinner? You could come to my place and I’ll cook for you, for a change.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded, leaning up and kissing you gently. “I’ll see you later then baby.” After pressing a few more gentle kisses to his lips, you managed to pull yourself away from him and hop into his shower. Once you were out, you may or may not have snagged one of his flannel shirts from his dresser drawer before pressing another kiss to his forehead and sneaking out of his house.

Your walk to the Head Hall was quick, given that you’d been making the same walk literally since you were born; first to visit your father and now, to visit your brother. Once you stepped inside, you climbed the massive staircase that led you to the second floor and you walked over to stand in front of Namjoon’s secretary’s desk.

“Hi Y/N!” Mina greeted you cheerfully and you couldn’t help but to smile back.

“Hi Mina. Where’s Tae?” You wondered, since Taehyung was Namjoon’s usual secretary.

“He called in with the “flu”,” she giggled. “Though if you ask me, I think he just didn’t want to pull himself away from that Alpha of his.”

“Most likely,” you laughed in agreement. “Is Namjoon here though?”

“Just got here about 20 minutes ago,” she nodded. “Go on in.”

“Thanks,” you said before stepping around the desk and knocking on the door to Namjoon’s office.

“Come in!” You heard him say and you pushed open the door, sticking your head inside a little so that he could see you.

“Busy?” You wondered and he shook his head as he motioned for you to come inside. You did so, making sure to shut the door behind you before you walked over to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of his desk. You always got a bittersweet feeling whenever you went to visit Namjoon, since his office used to actually be your father’s before he was killed.

“You know, as your older brother, I’m not even gonna ask why you reek of Min Yoongi because I don’t want to know,” he spoke up before you even had the chance to say anything, which made you smirk as you looked at him.

“Oh please, as many times as Tae and I accidently caught you and Hyo making out when we were teenagers,” you snickered, making Namjoon’s cheeks redden. “You can deal with some scenting.”

“You smell like you did a whole lot more than scenting or making out though,” he laughed and it was your turn for your cheeks to redden. “But what’s up?”

“Well, I wanted to check in with you and see what you thought about Yoongi,” you told him.

“Why would you ask me that?” He wondered with a chuckle as he sat back in his chair. “We both know that you’re gonna do whatever you want regardless of what I may have to say. You always have.”

“Yeah but you’re Pack Alpha and you’re also my only big brother,” you said. “Ideally, I’d like to have your approval.”

“But you don’t need it, given your status within the pack,” he pointed out and you rolled your eyes at him bringing that up.

“Well, give me your opinion according to my new status,” you replied.

“I like him well enough,” Namjoon sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He seems strong and dependable, and he’s a damned good hunter so I know that he’d be able to provide for you and protect you. However, he’s a little on the quiet side.”

“What’s wrong with being quiet?”

“Nothing, if it doesn’t seem like someone is using that to hide something,” Namjoon shrugged. “He seems almost too quiet. Plus, I really wish we knew more about how he ended up almost dead and why whoever did that to him would just leave him there.”

“You think it was his fault?” You questioned with an arched brow.

“No, but you know as well as I do that if a person is thrown out of their pack, most of the reasons behind it aren’t positive ones,” he responded.

“Still, it probably wasn’t his fault,” you replied.

“Probably, but the possibility is always going to be there until he tells us otherwise,” Namjoon shot back. “You wanted my opinion, that’s a part of it.”

“Hyo said that you said that you thought we’d make a good match though,” you brought up, making Namjoon groan loudly.

“God, I love that woman but she talks too much,” he huffed, making you chuckle. “When I said that, I meant it on the basis of our biology. I almost expected the two of you to be attracted to each other, and I wasn’t at all surprised when you showed up with that necklace on.”

“So you do approve then?” You pressed him.

“Yes Y/N-ah, I approve,” he relented as he rolled his eyes.

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he shrugged and it was then that you noticed something in his sandalwood and pine scent was off.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, and he sighed heavily before telling you.

“Hobi caught some lurkers on the edge of our territory last night,” he revealed, making your eyes widen.

“Seriously?” You gasped. “You think it’s anything to be concerned about?”

“I think it’s Seo-hyun’s pack,” he confessed and you immediately felt anger cloud your senses once you heard that name.

“Are you fucking serious?” You spat and Namjoon nodded.

“Seo-hyun has been the one that’s been pressuring the packs around here to fight over territory,” he reminded you.

“Just like he did before the Great Pack War,” you added.

“Exactly, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent those lurkers just to test me and see what I would do,” he said.

“Well, what are you going to do?” You wondered.

“I’m still working on that,” he replied honestly. “But whatever I come up with, I’m gonna try not to take it to the extremes of war again. That’s the last thing that this pack or any of the other packs need.”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” You stood up from the chair and after he nodded at you, you turned around and walked towards the door. Just as your hand wrapped around the door knob, Namjoon called out to you.

“Y/N-ah?” He said and you turned around again to look at him. “Your heat’s coming up soon, right?”

“You know, you’ve been Pack Alpha for seven years now but I’ll still never get used to you knowing my heat cycle,” you blushed lightly.

“Trust me, it’s not my favorite piece of knowledge to have but you would’ve had to do it too if you kept your former status,” he pointed out.

“To answer your question though, yes it’s coming up in like a week or so,” you told him.

“You should tell Yoongi before then,” he advised you. “You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. “I’m gonna tell him. I just...have to figure out how to.”

“I get it,” Namjoon nodded. “Have a good rest of your day Y/N-ah.”

“You too Joon,” you replied before turning around and stepping out of his office, shutting the door behind you.

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

“Ok, so no offense or anything,” Yoongi began but you interrupted him.

“That’s usually what someone says right before they offend you,” you pointed out, making Yoongi laugh loudly.

“This probably will offend you but I have to say it, it looks like an actual blueberry in here,” Yoongi chuckled as he looked around your cabin. The two of you had been sat on your couch, eating the chili that you had cooked for dinner. This was his first time actually coming inside your house, and you were quickly regretting it.

“Blue is my favorite color,” you muttered petulantly. The walls in your living room were colored in powder blue, with the couch and two easy chairs matching it. Yoongi also couldn’t help but to notice how many vases you had with fresh carnations around as well.

“You like carnations?” Yoongi wondered.

“Love them,” you confirmed with a soft smile. “When I was little, my dad used to always get my mom a fresh bouquet of them every week. I got so used to having them in the house, I decided to keep it going once I got my own cabin.”

“They’re beautiful,” Yoongi said as he extended his arms towards you. You immediately moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap you up into a tight hug.

“Missed you today,” you murmured as you nuzzled your nose against his scent gland on his neck.

“I missed you too baby,” he whispered.

“How was your day?” You questioned.

“Busy,” Yoongi huffed. “Kibum didn’t feel well today so I ran the hardware shop by myself.”

“Really?” You gasped in surprise. “That’s great.”

“It was nerve wrecking,” he corrected you. “I wouldn’t have even done it if Kibum didn’t basically threaten my life.”

“Yeah, that’s how he gets what he wants,” you giggled. “How did it end up going though, besides being busy?”

“It was...good, actually,” he told you. “Since everyone mostly knows me now, it was smooth sailing.”

“Aw, look who’s a part of the pack now,” you cooed, and Yoongi laughed.

“I didn’t really expect to ever be,” he admitted. “Especially with me being an outsider.”

“Why?”

“Because in my old pack, being kind to each other wasn’t the norm,” Yoongi huffed. “And we definitely didn’t extend kindness to outsiders.”

“But you like it?” You guessed and he nodded.

“I do. I never thought I’d end up here, but I’m glad that I did,” he confessed, taking a second to lean down and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m glad that you did too,” you smiled. After saying that though, you couldn’t help but to hope that he would react well to your secret whenever you decided to tell him because you really were glad that he was there and you didn’t want to lose him.

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