#next month is fucking packed for me i only got 11 days in november without any kind of appointment

[born-to-lose]

Aggressively promoting the bar where I work on all my social media

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 12)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 4.6K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, angst, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol)

Chapter Note: Okay so I probably should’ve tagged this story with angst. Whoops. Sorry guys

Tag List: lonelydance mysearchforgratification ramp-it-up blndspotting summerofsnowflakes exrthangel honeysucklechocolatedrippin captaintightpants58

Other Parts: See Masterlist

On Friday at 11 pm, you practically ran out the door of the lab, happy that you had managed to get so much work done within the past week. You needed some well-deserved time off and you could not wait to see Rafa and party with him and his friends all night. You had changed into the green dress that Samantha had picked out for you and was careful not to get it all sweaty as you fast-paced to the closest metro-line, hopping on the first train, eager to party.

As you arrived outside the guys' house, you could tell that it was already packed with people as laughter and rap music was booming out of the open windows in the kitchen. With a significant bounce in your step, you walked to the front door and stepped inside. The music was almost unbearably loud inside the house as you took a look around the room.

With Diggs' birthday present in hand (a bottle of Scotch and some British toffees) you did a quick scan for either the birthday boy or Rafa but was interrupted by a voice coming from the kitchen, "are you looking for Daveed? ‘Cause he disappeared into the bathroom with a girl a couple of minutes ago," a beautiful woman smiled at you. You vaguely recognised her as the girl who'd played Rafa's girlfriend in Blindspotting.

"Glad to hear that he's enjoying his birthday," you laughed, "you wouldn't happen to know where I can find Rafael?"

The girl's eyes widened, "Ooh! You're the British chick that Rafa's been on and on about for months now!" she presented her hand to you, "I'm Jasmine."

You shook her hand but your mind was elsewhere, "Rafa's been on about me... for months?"

"Yeah! I first heard about you way back in November at our annual Thanksgiving-party. He didn't know how to woo you," Jasmine smiled warmly, "and when I saw him again on Christmas day, he was still talking about wooing you even though he hadn't seen you since."

"You're kidding me!" you laughed.

"Nope!" Jasmine joined you in laughing, "he was clearly wounded by how completely uninterested you were," she chuckled.

"Aw, that poor little famous man!"

"Yeah it does get to his head sometimes. So it's really great when someone like you finally shows up and forces him to take it down a notch."

"Always happy to kindly pick him apart," you joked.

"Oh, you did way more than that!" Jasmine smiled, "to this day he will not shut up about you," she groaned playfully, "what happened? Did he finally drop by your house as we all advised him to do?"

"Nope," you shook your head with a low chuckle, "we actually bumped into each other randomly at new years."

"Ugh, I knew he'd chicken out!" Jasmine sighed, "Well I'm glad to hear that it worked out anyway - even though I have to admit that it's slightly hurtful that he didn't take any of his friends' advice," she smiled, "especially since we all told him to do the same thing; just leave a damn note."

Although you were flattered that Rafa had been talking to his friends about you even before you'd bumped into him again on new years, you had to admit that it was mildly surprising too. You were slowly realising that Rafa may have downplayed exactly how much he had thought about you in the weeks between your first and second encounter.

Jasmine's voice brought you back to reality, "You got him good," she laughed, "I don't think he's had such a challenge in years! It clearly humbled him that you didn't throw yourself at him at the first chance you got. We all adore you for leaving him desperate for more on the curb."

"Glad to be of service!" You laughed as well, already fond of Jasmine. She seemed just as carefree and bubbly as Samantha.

"Why don't we go see if we can find him? I know he's been dying for you to get here, looking at his phone every two seconds," Jasmine smiled at you.

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to it too," you smiled.

"I think he's playing beer pong in the living room."

You put down Daveed's present on a small table and followed Jasmine to the next room where most of the party goers were either dancing, talking in clusters, or playing various drinking games. Just as Jasmine had predicted, Rafa was playing beer pong with a group of people looking excitedly at the game unfolding before them. Rafa was in a light shirt and black slacks, the golden bracelet he always wore swung loosely around his wrist. His hair was in its normal slight swoop, the stubble on his chin a bit longer than you'd seen it before. He looked damned good as he was laughing with his friends.

"Hey Casal!" Jasmine said and gained his attention.

Rafa looked up at her with an expectant look on his face, clearly waiting for her continue speaking. His gaze quickly flickered to you, and when your eyes finally met, he had the same reaction as the night you'd met on new years eve; eyes softening significantly, smile slowly cracking on his face until his mouth was spread as wide as it possibly could, a hand flying to his heart as he took in your appearance. Without breaking his eye contact with you, he padded his teammate on the back and mumbled something to him before he stepped over to you, immediately pulling you tight against his chest.

"Hi," he whispered softly against you, "fuck, you look amazing," he grumbled, "I love that dress," his hands slid over your back and came to a rest just above your hip bone.

"Thanks. You look very handsome," you threw your arms around his waist, and looked up at him, almost wishing you could kiss him.

"Is it the beard?" he smiled, a slight growl to his voice.

"Yeah, you look almost grown-up," you chuckled, "where's the snarky boy from the bar?"

"Oh, he's long gone," Rafa winked down at you before he let you go when his teammate shouted his name.

"Hey, why don't you go make yourself a drink and I'll join you shortly?" he smiled, and sent Jasmine a look that silently asked her to take care of you.

"Come," Jasmine tugged on your arm, "I could use a drink as well."

You reluctantly left Rafa to go back to his game of beer pong and followed Jasmine to the other end of the living room. You both mixed a piña colada from the self-service bar, and sat down in a vacant spot in the sofa.

You looked around at the rest of the people in the sofa area, eyes almost immediately interlocking with the man you had met in the living room as you had snuck out the door on January 1st. He looked at you playfully, "Oh hey! I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on!"

"Oh god," you groaned and laughed in the hopes of shrugging off the embarrassment you felt at the thought, "Definitely not my finest moment!"

"You don't say," he laughed and filled Jasmine in on what had happened that morning. Apparently, they knew each other as well.

"You walked out on Rafa on new years day as well?" Jasmine chuckled, "No wonder he was so grumpy when I called and wished him and Diggs a happy new year."

"Oof, you should've seen him when he found out you'd snuck out the door," the man sent you an anxious smile, "he was not happy! ...But you made up I'm guessing," he said, still smiling widely, "seeing as you're here and all."

"We did," you nodded, slightly embarrassed by how all of his friends apparently were involved in your situation but you shrugged it off with a joke, "so he only uses his friends to unload when he's frustrated? He hasn't even gotten around to tell you all about the happy ending and our rekindling friendship," you smiled.

"Yeah, he's a dick," Jasmine chuckled.

Sofa-man laughed, "Nah, we can take it. We all know that he's just insanely private about the women he fall in love with."

"The women he fall in love with?!!?!" You shrieked but no one really seemed to hear neither your voice nor your heart that was beating like crazy in your chest.

Rafa was in love????

"Oh come on," Jasmine rolled her eyes at sofa-man, "He's not private at all! He just hasn't had anyone to tell us about for years! You know Rafa. He's a big softie posing as a tough guy."

"Yeah, well that's true," the man laughed, "It's actually quite nice to finally meet the woman who was able to tie that boy down."

You felt yourself going dizzy. This was a lot to take in. Did you already mean as much to Rafa as his friends were implying? You were aware of the fact that he was insanely sexually attracted to you and that he was fond of your company - and if you were completely honest with yourself, you also knew that Rafa had a major crush on you but by the way his friends were talking about it Rafa had fallen in lo-

"Heeeeey!" a man behind you broke your stream of thoughts as he put his hands on your shoulders, "you came!"

You looked up to a smiling Daveed who looked quite tipsy.

"Daveed!" you did your best to look excited as if the news that Jasmine and the other guy had broken to you a few seconds before hadn't toppled you, "happy birthday!"

"Aw thanks," he hugged you, "did you say hi to Rafa? He's right over there," he pointed to an overly-confident Rafa who was juggling two ping pong balls.

"Yeah, we just came from over there," Jasmine laughed from beside you.

"Oh Jas!" Daveed said excitedly as if he'd only just realised that she was there, "I see you've finally met Rafa's girl!"

Before Jasmine had even had the chance to think of an answer, you swooped around, "not his girl," you pointed at Daveed and said for what felt like the millionth time since you'd gotten to know him. "I'm not Rafa's girl," you looked back at Jasmine and the man from January 1st too. They both shot you weird looks.

"Oh, trust me. You're his girl," Daveed snickered, apparently not catching on to your tone.

"I assure you I'm not!" you smiled sweetly, "we're just friends. Please stop calling me his girl. We’re friends,” you were aware that your voice was sounding desperate and pleadingly.

The smile finally disappeared from Daveed's face when he heard your tone of voice, "Are you sure Rafa's aware of that?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"He knows!" you nodded to convince him.

"Uh, that's not really the vibe he's been sending," sofa-man said quietly from behind you.

You looked between the three friends, all of them sending you concerned looks.

"Uuuuh.... I... I need to run to the bathroom real quick," you said suddenly and stood up from the sofa, grateful that your feet took you away from the conversation without you really having to steer them. They walked in the opposite direction of the bathroom, steering towards the pool area outside instead. Air! You needed air!

You quickly walked by Rafa and his group of friends playing beer pong, praying that he didn't see you, but luckily it seemed as if he was far too concerned with the last cup standing in front of the opposite team to notice anything else.

Quickly, you opened the door to the outside, snaked your way out and slid it soundlessly shut behind you. You sat down on a bench overlooking the pool thinking about what Rafa's friends had said. Was he really so smitten with you? You couldn't decide whether you felt happy or suffocated. You were going home in a week for crying out loud! If Rafa had fallen in love with you it would complicate things a bunch! You cursed yourself for having played along for so long when deep down you knew that it was bound to happen to at least one of you. You felt like a bloody idiot!

Although... if you were completely honest with yourself, you had to admit that Rafa wasn't the only one who was smitten; you had fallen for him pretty hard as well. You had tried to fight it relentlessly but in the end his sincere nature and sweet gestures had made cupid shoot heart-shaped arrows at you. You thought of the last couple of weeks and how hard it had been for Rafa to keep his hands to himself. It had been quite sweet how involuntary it had all been and how he had practically touched or kissed you at every chance he got. He just couldn't help himself. The thought alone of his helpless, wandering hands made the butterflies flutter awake in your stomach. And you realised that even though you had fought hard to avoid it, you were actually crazy in love with him too. It felt as if you were high as you finally let yourself indulge in the feeling of being in love with him. The feeling ended abruptly, however, as you realised that the two of you didn't have a happy ending. That you still had to go home. That everything was indeed screwed.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of the door behind you sliding slightly open before it was closed again. Not two seconds later, you were joined by Daveed who sat down next to you.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked you as he put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Yep!" you said a little too chipper to sound believable.

"Is it Rafa?"

You didn't know why you had felt the need to pretend in front of Daceed, so you immediately let down your guard, "how'd you guess," you sighed unenthusiastically.

"What'd the idiot do now?" he too sighed.

"He didn't do anything."

"What are you sitting out here all sad for then?"

"Because I just had an epiphany," you looked up at Daveed.

"An epiphany?" He sent you an amused smile, "sounds interesting. About what?"

"About Rafa," you squinted at him as if the sun was blinding you, "I think we're in love..."

Daveed's smile grew wide, "oh, great! So you finally admit it? He's going to be stoked!"

"It's not exactly great news..."

"Why not?" Daveed laughed, "when is being in love ever bad news?"

"It is when one part is leaving the country in a week," you shot him a pained expression.

"Oh. Yeah," Daveed said slowly, his sassiness visibly dropping to zero, "That part sucks, I know."

"Yep!"

"Which is why I don't understand why you aren't in there soaking up every last minute you have left with him."

"Ugh," you buried your face in your hands, a small desperate laugh escaping your lips, "because this is so complicated. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm usually so in control!"

Daveed laughed, "well I for one know that Rafa has been desperate to get you to drop the act and just smooch him already."

"Oh my god," you laughed into your hands, "I can't believe he's even involved all of his friends. Jasmine and that guy you were hanging with on new years day knew exactly who I was. They told me that Rafa's been ready from the beginning because I was so dismissive towards him."

"Yeah, you spellbound him," Daveed laughed.

"Did I bring this upon myself?" You squinted up at Daveed.

"You're putting too much on your own shoulders. Rafa knew from the get-go that you had to go back to Europe after a couple of months - granted, at first, I think he just saw you as an interesting fuck, but he could've stepped out when he realised that he wanted to hold you tight and buy you hotdogs and what not," he elbowed you with a laugh.

"Yeah... yeah you're right. Do you think he'll handle it alright when I go fly back home?"

He smiled secretively, "he's probably gonna go full emo."

You looked up at Rafa's best friend who you knew would have his work cut out for him, "sorry..."

"Not your fault," Daveed laughed, "and I'm guessing that you'll still keep talking and maybe fly back and forth when you have the chance. I can handle emo-Rafa if you just handle happy-Rafa."

"Sounds like a fair distribution of roles," you laughed before going all serious, "what do I do now?"

"You tell him of course," Daveed smiled brightly, "and you two just enjoy the upcoming week. I'll find somewhere to stay so you can have crazy monkey sex all over the house without having to think about the cock-block of a roomie," he winked at you.

"You truly possess big 'best mate'-energy," you laughed.

"I do," he nodded.

You smiled at him for a second before the seriousness of the situation hit you again, "wow, I wish I wasn't so..." you couldn't find the right word.

"European?" Daveed finished.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "if I didn't live so fucking far away from here, it'd be a completely different situation."

"I know," Daveed said and hugged you, "cheer up. It's gonna suck for a while but you'll find a way."

"Thanks," you mumbled into his shoulder.

You were still hugging when you heard the door slide open behind you.

"I thought I saw you two out here," Rafa's voice called happily when he stepped outside.

Daveed slowly let go of you, allowing you to turn around and face Rafa who had a large grin plastered on his face.

"My best friend and my... other friend," he smiled drunkenly, "what a sight."

"I'll give you two some privacy," Daveed said with a wink before he went inside.

Rafa took Daveed's seat next to you, immediately pulling you close, "why were you and Diggs sitting out here all alone? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you smiled up at him, "yeah, everything's good."

"So you don't know why Jasmine looked at me all worried just before?"

"I kind of ditched her," you sent him an apologetic look.

"Aw, you don't like Jas?"

"I do! I just had to get some air and clear my head," you smiled.

"Yeah? Long day at the office?"

"You have no idea!" You laughed, "I hope you had a better day than I did."

"Mmh, I'm having the best day," he buried his face in your neck, "It's Diggs' birthday and you're here with me and I'm just having a really, really great night."

"Alright," you laughed, "well, in connection with that, I have something to tell you that I hope will make it even better," you grinned while he nuzzled against your neck. He was being really cute and you couldn't help but laugh at him, "this is a big deal, could you not act like a lovesick puppy right now?"

"No," he kissed your collarbone, "what do you want to tell me," he chuckled drunkenly.

You took a deep breath, "Rafa -"

"Mmmh," he interrupted you with a growl as he licked his lips, "I love it when you say my name," he grinned up at you.

"Be serious for once!" You laughed, "I'm about to blow your mind over here!"

"Mmmh, can't wait," he smiled, lips inching closer and closer to yours, his eyes glistening in the dim light from the pool. He smelled of beer and whiskey and it made you feel both adventurous and safe at the same time. His right hand was warm against the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips moving slowly and sensually against yours while his left hand was stroaking your thigh. He was humming slightly as he moved his body closer to you, the hand he had on your neck travelling to the middle of your thoracic spine where he pushed slightly, bringing your torso even closer to his. Kissing Rafa and finally allowing yourself to do so without feeling bad about it felt more amazing than you had ever imagined, and you felt your heart explode in a heap of colours as you both poured yourself into the slow kiss. All the nervousness you'd felt only moments before was now gone, and you suddenly couldn't wait to tell him that you were in love with him. Slowly, you pulled your lips away from his, earning yourself a small whimper from him.

"Rafa," you tried once more.

"I know, I know. You don't have to say anything," he stated flatly with a smile, his words a bit slurred from the alcohol, "I already know what you're gonna say."

"You do?" Amused, you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," he smiled confidently, "you're gonna call me out for kissing you and for wanting to fuck your brains out, and you're gonna remind me of your code and the fact that you're leaving in 7 days and blablabla," he said cockily, "and because I care about you, I'll pretend that I care about your code, so I'll tell you sorry and that I'll be on my best behaviour, and you'll accept my apology and I'll patiently wait for the next opportunity and start all over again until you finally say to hell with it all and act like you really want to. And around it goes," he smirked, his lips suddenly close to yours again, "does that sound about right?"

You blinked a few times while his words settled in your brain. Did he just say what you think he did? "Wait what? Hold up Rafa. Back up a second; You patiently wait for opportunities to overstep the boundaries of the friendship that we both agreed on? You keep pushing until I say to hell with it and let you do whatever you want?" You repeated with closed eyes, wondering if you'd understood him correctly, "are you saying that you did all of those more-than-friendly touches, and hugs, and kisses on purpose? That you were in fact able to keep your hands to yourself but you pretended not to be so you could make me say 'to hell with it?'," you looked at him rather unimpressed.

"I wanted to win you over," he shrugged with a crooked smile, "did I manage? It feels like I managed," he snickered. He did not look as cute right now as he had done only seconds before, the smell of beer and whiskey suddenly a tad bit sickening.

"So what you're saying is that you lied and pretended to be interested in being friends with me when in reality, all you could think about was planning your next move so I'd let you screw me?"

"Aw, come on. You're making me sound like a villain," he groaned.

"Rafa, let me get straight with you," you said sternly, "Don't you understand that I made those rules so this wouldn't happen?"

He finally seemed to understand the severity of the situation, "so what wouldn't happen?" He spoke in an offended tone as he straightened up.

"So we wouldn't fall for each other! And now I find out that you had an elaborate scheme to get me to throw myself at you when I told you specifically that I was not interested in that? What kind of a sociopat does that?" You stood up from the bench, anger bubbling more and more in your veins as you slowly realised what he'd done, "what the fuck, Rafa?!"

"You think I did it completely for myself?" He asked calmly but with offence still staining his tone of voice, "you think I did it to somehow lure you into sleeping with me? You really don't see that I did it because I thought you deserved to listen to your instincts for once instead of doing what you think is the right thing to do?"

"You had no right!"

"Hey, don't you dare put all the blame on me!" His voice was raised slightly as he too stood up from the bench, "you were just as bad at keeping your hands to yourself as I was! Inviting me up for tea and fucking cuddling," he spat.

"I had one weak moment!" You held up your finger.

"Oh don't give me that shit! You had several! How about kissing me in the living room after the concert? And a few days ago in Diggs' car? Or masturbating in front of me - or even whipping out your tits in the bathroom when you know I'm crazy about you?"

"That's the problem, Rafa! I thought you were just sexually frustrated! Had I known you were bonkers about me this whole time, I wouldn't have allowed it to come this far!"

"Oh you wouldn't have allowed it?" He said in a wild tone of voice, "well I'm fucking sorry for having my own free will. As if I need your permission to fall for you."

"I can't believe that I got caught up in your web," you scoffed. Mostly to yourself, "I mean; I knew you were dangerous! I knew you'd have the ability to smooth talk your way into my heart - but never in my wildest imagination did I think that you'd screw me over and do all of this on purpose to get me to fall for you. What did you do it for? Did you do it to check off the girl who rejected you? Self gratification? Bragging rights to your mates? A couple of weeks of sex? What Rafa?"

"Oh fuck you," he spat, "don't give me that shit when you're clearly just as crazy about me as I am about you."

"I'm not sure I am anymore," you said rather childishly.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that so you can fuck off back to England without ever having to think of me again," he panted, "is that what you want? Is that really what you think is realistic? If you think you can put me in a box labelled 'my PhD-trip to California' and never think of me again, then you're clearly not as clever as I thought you were. Do you really think that just because you've tried to stay abstinent, that you could leave every thought of me across the ocean?" His voice broke as he took a step closer to you.

"I don't know what I thought," you said calmly, eyes piercing through him, "clearly, it was a mistake to engage in anything with you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down so he could be rational, "look, I'm sorry if I tricked you. It really wasn't my intention and I clearly made a mistake and you got hurt. I just need you to understand that I didn't do it on purpose; I just wanted to get you to act on your feelings instead of staying in your head. I just wanted you to enjoy your time here. With me."

"You ruined it, Rafa," you said slowly, "I don't care if you hurt me on purpose or not. You still did. You manipulated me."

"Baby come on," he croaked, his voice cracking.

"I'm not your baby," you whispered.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, his eyes drunk and hurt. "Is this is then?" He croaked with desperate hands gesturing to nothing in particular, "do you really think that my actions are so unforgivable that we can't see each other anymore?"

"No, it's not unforgivable. I just don't see the point in forgiving you when I leave in a bit anyway."

"You're breaking my heart," he said quietly.

"You broke mine first."

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC XII

Parts 1-11 linked in bio!

Somewhat canon compliant.

Rating: M, mentions of medical misdemeanour, implied sex, language

Song: Do I Wanna Know (Live At The BBC) - Hozier

Word Count: 3367

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Twelve: An Inconvenient Truth

So. Denial hadn’t been working. At this point Suki had to admit to herself her crush on Bryce. She had no clue what to do. She should end it, right? It wouldn’t be fair on him. He hadn’t signed up for this and they’d made it pretty clear they didn’t want this to happen.

Suki hadn’t had feelings for anyone in such a long time that it had never seemed possible to her. She’d never dreamed she’d end up feeling some type of way for Bryce Lahela. The moment she felt that déjà vu she should’ve run for the hills. Maybe in hindsight the whole thing was a mistake, but it was too late now.

She was laying there in his bed, on his chest, wearing his pyjamas. She definitely wasn’t doing herself any favours right at that moment.

She wanted to stay there forever, enveloped in his smell and his warm skin and the light breeze of his breaths on her forehead; the soft cotton of his pyjamas, the dizzying sensation of his arm on her waist.

But god, Bryce really hadn’t bargained for this. She had to get out of there before she drove herself crazy or overstayed her welcome. Or worse, drove him away. Because although it might not have been what was best for her after the revelation, all Suki wanted was to keep Bryce in her life.

“Thank you so much. Again. But I oughta get out of your hair.” She started to lift herself off him, dreaming up reluctance as his arm fell away from her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. You said you had today off too, right? You must be feeling pretty rough,” he chuckled.

“Thank you for offering but really. I should go home.” Should more than you know. Should for my own sanity. Should because it’s the right thing to do when it was me who fucked up.

Bryce left her to it as she changed out of his pyjamas – slowly, she was hungover as hell – and back into the clothes that were strewn across Bryce’s kitchen.

“I’ll wash your underwear for you,” he offered, as they had been caught in the crossfire of her vomit. She could tell it was a serious offer despite the smug smirk painted on his face.

Stop it! Stop it stop it stop it! “No, you won’t. I have a washing machine at home.”

She collected them from him in a plastic bag, how embarrassing.

Imagine making such a state of yourself? I’m twenty-fucking-eight years old and I drank too much because I was afraid to admit I might have some stupid schoolgirl crush on my fuck buddy? Have you ever seen anything more tragic? And now he’s fucking handing me my sick-soaked underwear in a plastic fucking bag. Like a fucking child. A child who threw up at school and had to go home early and get picked up by their mom. And now I can’t stop fucking cursing myself for putting myself in this position. If there was ever any moment at all that he maybe saw me as more than a fuck, that moment was lost now.

So Suki left, her head spinning and not just because of an asshole of a hangover.

Maybe it was just a temporary baseless infatuation. Maybe Suki shouldn’t have been jumping to such drastic measures…

So that - Suki’s denial and clinging on to the hope that she could find a way to continue this – was how Suki and Bryce ended up continuing to sleep together throughout the month of February. But the longer it went on, the more sure Suki was that this addicting feeling when she thought of him was sticking around. And it wasn’t fair on him.

She kept thinking about it, considering her options, making the excuse that she didn’t want to jump into the wrong decision. So yeah, she kept sleeping with him. And no, there was no way in hell Suki was admitting to Bryce that she was into him.

She’d been afraid to contact him after everything that had happened, the amount of embarrassment she’d caused for herself, but he was the one to reach out first. It surprised Suki that he even wanted anything to do with her after all that.

“How’s your hand?” He’d asked the first time since the incident, picking up her wrist and investigating the healing.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt much any more.” The wound was scarring to scab and itch.

“It’s looking good.”

“I guess I have your skills to thank.”

“How many times have I told you?” He grinned, “I’m a talented guy.”

They’d become comfortable with one another, really comfortable, and the friend part of friend with benefits could no longer be ignored.

Suki’s problem? Bryce was impossible to get a read on. She had absolutely no idea to tell if her newfound feelings were reciprocated, because he was a huge flirt to everyone. And Suki wasn’t one to take risks. So she didn’t say anything, assumed Bryce felt the same as he ever had for her.

She was right, of course, but not in the way she expected.

A few nights into the month Bryce texted:

Scalpel Jockey: *sigh* i should call her😉

Bryce’s text was accompanied by a selfie taken in front of his toilet, wide grin and thumb up. So embarrassing. He’d been right about the blackmail thing, then. He wasn’t going to let the mess I was go.

Santa Fe: you’re not even using the meme right

Scalpel Jockey: well my toilet misses your mouth so be sure to come visit it tomorrow

Santa Fe: you think you’re going to get laid after reminding me of the most embarrassing night of my life?

Over-exaggeration. But it honestly sort of felt that way.

Scalpel Jockey: of course I will😏

Santa Fe: nope

Scalpel Jockey:👀😌🤨

The next day,

Santa Fe: fine. see u soon.

—-

“Owwww somethings digging into my back!” Bryce yelped as he’d rolled away from Suki. He did some odd contortions to reach underneath himself and grab whatever was causing the grievance. “Suki, why the hell is your id badge in my bed?”

“Uh, maybe because you chucked it into the abyss a minute ago.”

He gave her a look with pursed lips. He rolled to his side facing away from Suki.

“Aww, you look so cute in this. All innocent and shit.”

“Give it back.”

“I mean it! Look at that little face,” he cooed, brushing the image with his thumb.

“It’s really not my best picture at all,” she groaned. What was it about ID card images which made them always turn out terrible? And then one is left with said image for potentially years to come.

“Suki, this says your birthday is January 18th? You didn’t say anything?” He turned to face her.

“January was so busy, I wasn’t that fussed.”

“You should’ve said. I would’ve celebrated with you.”

“Birthday sex?” She laughed.

“No, like proper birthday stuff. Whatever you like doing on them. And then maybe some birthday sex,” he added with a smirk.

“Eh. It was fine, I just got takeout.”

Bryce tutted.

“When’s your birthday, then?”

Suddenly he looked bashful and uneasy. “Um. November 27th.”

“Oh my god. You’re an idiot.”

“Nah. I’m a Sagittarius,” he winked.

“I can’t believe you were trying to make me feel guilty for not mentioning my birthday when you didn’t either.”

“We actually spent it together. That day I looked after Tommy. I had a great time.”

“Oh.” He had to stop saying things like that. It was terrible for her heart. “I can’t believe you let me set a random kid on you for your birthday.”

“I said I had a great time didn’t I?”

And god Suki’s stomach was having a party, an anxiety-ridden, nerves-on-fire, doubt-clad, smitten-as-shit party.

—-

In no time at all It was Valentine’s Day. Not that Suki was paying any attention… or that she wanted to spend it with a certain god-like surgeon. She didn’t even need to mention it, the plan was just act like this was any other hookup. February 14th was just a day – the way we ascribe time only exists because of us; and therefore it’s just a normal hookup. Using existentialism to cure crush nerves? Surprisingly works.

Santa Fe: 👃

Scalpel Jockey: sorry sukes i’m sick🤒

Well. That was not what she was expecting.

But wait. What if he was faking? What if he knew it was Valentine’s Day and was worried Suki was trying to make a gesture and had to let her down easy?

Worse, what if he was spending Valentine’s with someone else? After all, they had agreed not to be exclusive. Shit. What if Bryce liked someone else?? She didn’t even think about it before and now she felt a bit sick. He was an insanely attractive guy – chances were even without time to meet people there would be plenty at the hospital falling at his feet. There was no way he hadn’t been asked out for Valentine’s.

Those worries were quelled by another text, a picture of Bryce’s legs in his bed and the TV at the end playing something. There was a small bag full of used tissues.

Bless him, he really is sick.

Suki knew what she had to do.

Clanging about in the kitchen she muscled up some veg-packed soup, a vegetable lasagne, and a vegetable stir-fry. She also blended a fruit smoothie. Then she packed everything into Tupperware and fit a couple of portions of each into an insulated container.

Suki marched over to Bryce’s with the insulated container full of her cooked meals and determination. God, I’m a simp.

When she arrived she knocked hard so that he could hear. It was a couple of minutes before Suki heard footsteps, then they stopped (presumably for Bryce to look through the fish-eye) before Bryce creaked the door open.

“Suki. Didn’t you get my text, I’m sick I can’t-“ his voice was weak and croaky, slightly nasal – and he definitely sounded ill.

“I know. I’m not here for that. I bought you these,” she held up the insulated bag.

“What is it?”

“Food. Meals. Because you’re sick and you can’t cook. It’s just simple immune-boosting stuff,” she held out the bag for him to take.

He sniffed loudly and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

She was going to protest, but for some reason she didn’t. The plan was just to drop the food off, not to come in. But when faced with the opportunity Suki’s legs carried her subconsciously. When Bryce opened the door up for her she could see him closer. Dark bags under his eyes, greasy hair, chapped lips. He was wearing sweatpants (similar to the pair Suki had tucked away in her drawer at home from Christmas), and a cotton t shirt. He looked rough. Somehow, he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever met. And seeing him like this wasn’t off-putting at all, it just made her want to look after him. Be there for him. Why am I willing to do so much for him? Liking people is a bit like giving away your soul, isn’t it?

“You get back into bed and I’ll heat one of these up for you. They should still be mostly warm, anyway.”

“Sukes, I’ll be fine,” he said nasally. The nickname sent Suki’s organs into overdrive. Because here he was at his lowest, referring to Suki with an affectionate moniker and sounding like a melancholic song.

“I kind of owe you, remember?”

Bryce hummed a nod, too tired for much else, and slunk back into his bedroom.

Suki busied herself checking all the Tupperware’s – they were cool enough to go in the freezer by then so she put all bar one away. She heated that one for a few moments and transferred it into a bowl with cutlery, planted that on a tray, and brought it through to Bryce.

He was in bed as Suki had instructed, old reruns of Criminal Minds playing on his TV. He smiled weakly when he saw her enter with the tray of soup.

“Thank you,” he said as she placed the tray on his lap.

“No problem.”

He took a spoon of soup and gulped it down gently. Then he turned to Suki, who was now perched lightly on the edge of his bed facing him.

“I’m not good with… seeming weak,” he said, looking at Suki intensely.

“You don’t need to worry about that. It’s only me. I vomited in your toilet.”

“Exactly,” he muttered, and when Suki was about ask what he meant he carried on, “this soup is amazing.”

They sat in silence with only the sounds of the TV as Bryce worked his way through the bowl of soup. Suki was too nervous to ask what he’d meant.

“Thank you,” he said as he finished the bowl. She took the tray from him and took it back through to the kitchen, washing everything up for him. She returned to Bryce’s room, noting beads of sweat on his forehead. Going into Bryce’s en-suite, Suki found a washcloth and soaked it with some cold water before giving it a squeeze.

When she returned to Bryce’s side she gently dabbed the washcloth over his hot forehead. He looked up at her, vulnerable, exhausted – very un-Bryce. She was ever so gentle as she dabbed the cool cloth over his skin. Then Bryce reached up and held onto her wrist weakly with his hand.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“Like I said, I owe you. I was hard work that night at yours.”

He seemed to accept this answer, and gulped a little as he let go of her wrist. She pulled the cloth from his forehead for a moment.

“I’m still nervous,” he croaked.

“About?”

“You seeing me like this. It’s not exactly sexy.”

Suki’s nosiness was getting the better of her, and she knew now would be a good time to strike since there’d been an opening.

“The whole… weakness thing – that’s why you were weird about the surgery?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is,” he sighed, looking at Suki as though weighing up his options. He seemed to come to a decision and continued: “I already went through struggles with self doubt. My parents fucked up my whole belief in myself - it’s why I overcompensate now. It’s why I took the surgery thing so hard, I felt myself doubting my abilities. Well it was more like – less that I was actually doubting myself, because I know I’m good, and more that I was worried I would start doubting myself.”

“Yeah, that totally makes sense.” Suki was surprised he was opening up to her like this. She noticed how he mentioned his parents, but she’d let him get there when he was was ready.

“I’m sorry for not telling you at the time.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t owed the story. So what really happened? You got kicked off because of karaoke?”

“Uh, the other surgical interns kind of have it out for me.”

“What?”

“Well… everyone liked me at first. You know, I’m a likeable guy,” he flashed a grin, a ghost of his normal megawatt smile, “but I think once they saw how competent and determined I was that changed fast.”

“Jealousy,” she scoffed, “So that’s why you don’t hang out with them any more?” Suki remembered how he’d avoided them at Halloween.

“Yeah. And there was a group of them spreading shit from the start about me, dangerous rumours that could get me fired. Saying I drink on the job, I have *ahem* sexual relationships with my patients, that I’m a terrible surgeon and only made it here because of my parents money which is...”

“Your parents are well off?”

Bryce’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, uh, people found out about who my parents are too.”

“Who are they?”

“Another time,” he bit his lip as though unsure, concern as he looked into Suki’s face.

“Okay- drinking at work, sex with patients? Where the hell did those come from?”

“Well I keep a few condoms in my locker, for you, that can’t have looked great after the accusations. I don’t know shit about the drinking. I guess it just sounded bad and anyone who has had out it for me just wants me to look incompetent.”

“Those fucking dicks.”

Bryce shrugged. “It shows I’m a major threat,” he gave her a smug grin but his heart wasn’t quite in it. “So all that stuff got relayed back to Dr Emery and the karaoke the night before was apparently the last straw. She didn’t want to take the risk in case it was true and gave my surgery to Ben.”

“Ben, huh?” She asked, a sudden iciness in her tone. Like, Ben ‘you like her?’ Ben? Digging into Bryce’s private life Ben?

“Yeah, he’s another intern - you probably don’t know him.”

Maybe not. But I’m about to.

“I know some Ben’s… what’s his last name?”

“White.”

“Oh no, I don’t know him,” Suki smiled sweetly, dabbing Bryce’s head with the flannel again. She’d gotten the information she needed.

Bryce chuckled weakly. “I told you.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah so, obviously Dr Emery investigated it all after that and realised that none of it was true. But by then I’d lost it anyway. The damage was done, you know? Sorry, I know I sound a bit ‘woe is me’.”

“Not at all. You can talk to me, seriously. Friends – remember? I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” And angrier than I’m letting on.

“I suppose I owe you an apology too. For shutting you down and running away when you tried to ask me about it. I’m just- it’s- I like being That Guy, you know? The one who’s got his shit together. The one who’s the expert surgeon. Who doesn’t let things phase him. Laughs everything off. The one who’s amazing in bed,” he looked at her with a look that was, if Suki didn’t know any better, nervous. God, it’s so weird seeing him like this. But my heart is completely breaking for him.

“If I’m-“ he continued, then seemed to change his mind, “what you need from me wasn’t that, so I didn’t want to mess things up.”

“By being human? You could never,” she smiled as she bought the flannel back to his face, but it was more an excuse to stroke her finger over his cheek comfortingly. Bryce’s eyes seemed to shut involuntarily and he moved into her touch, just letting it be for a while. He was still hot, but had a bit more colour to his face, so Suki felt she had helped at least a little.

Fuck. I like you so much.

This definitely wasn’t helping her whole predicament, because each word he’d said to her, each touch, each look on his face – and she was a puddle on the floor. Overwhelmed with the ache she felt in her chest at the whole situation. That something as ridiculous as jealousy – between people who’s job it was to help others for gods sake – had put Bryce in such a spin. And it seemed to her that losing the surgery was bad for him, but the way that affected his confidence and how he felt he had to be around her – that seemed to have affected him more.

He was too proud.

And she cared for him too much to be okay with seeing him like this.

Suki must’ve been cradling Bryce’s face longer than she’d realised, because he eventually started snoring quietly. His eyebrows now flattened on his face and looking more at peace than he had since she’d arrived. She was careful when removing her hand and placing a pillow up under his head. She placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing against the cool damp area she’d been dabbing. Then she snuck into his bathroom to fill up a glass of water and collect some aspirin, leaving them on his bedside table for him before escaping his apartment.

Suki was on a mission, fuelled by affection and anger.

[sea-salted-wolverine]

Okay so last week was a shitkicker and was literally so bad I spent the better part of the week trying to delude myself into thinking it was a good day. Like, we're talking, "the sun is shining and I'm here to see it so today is a good day" and "I'm having a bad day- fuck me I am not haveing a bad day- I'm having a good day- I'm not having a bad day". Denial is a powerful tool for mental health, apply judiciously. I get that everyone on earth is kinda having a shitty year but it feels like things just kinda escalated in my little corner

The 7th had a huge snow storm that brought traffic to a stand still. No one could leave the house and university class was online anyway. Batshit customer demanded to pick up her gear anyway. I drove in because I was the only person with keys to the shop that could get to the building. It took me a solid 2 hours going 15mph on the highway. The snow in the parking lot was up past the fenders of my truck. Crazy lady gets 10 out of 18 of her survival suits back but the other 8 still have holes in them because our only repair tech is also the only one who answers the phone or runs the computer or handles customers or cleans or disinfects anything or stores gear. I'll give you one guess who that person is.

Did you guess me? Good for you. Fun fact this was not the case in October.

Crazy lady swans off through the snowed in parking lot and because she cant find the exit, blasts straight through the ditch and onto the road.

I say fuck it and leave. I've been at work for 2 hours. I have made 24 dollars for my trouble. It takes me another hour to get home.

The 8th is Saturday and I'm supposed to be at work. No one can drive. There was another 10 8nches of snow last night. I say fuck work and go to dig out the plow truck. The canopy over the plow truck collapses as I walk out to clear the snow of it.

I do not scream.

My partner and I get the truck running and go plow people out of their driveways and then go do the shop.

We come back home and the heater doesn't work. We just spent most of last week frantically trying to limp the thing along because no heat at -20°F is in a word fucking unpleasant. At least now its 40 degrees warmer because if the snowstorm. We take it apart again. The house smells like diesel. The house smells like exhaust. The house is not cold because the wood stove can keep up at 20 above zero but it won't keep us through the winter.

There is no saving the oil heater. We need a new one.

Its 730 and neither of us have eaten. I start rice in the pressure cooker so I can throw a tasty bite on top and call it dinner and that dies too. Explosively.

Dinner is half cooked rice and microwaved curry.

Sunday is spent finding a way to stretch our increasingly thin budget to buy a new heater. Between us we actually have 2275$ and we will still cover the mortgage. Somehow. All our Christmas gifts will be hand made this year. The next thing that breaks will stay broken.

Monday, power outages due to snow storm. No wifi, no zoom meetings. Another 8 inches of snow. This is now more snow than my city gets for the full year.

My boss calls sobbing. The dog died. Joey, an 11 year old, 130lb mastiff with a tumor the size of a football on his liver has been her constant companion for at least 8 years. The pandemic has confused the bejesus out of him because while he loves the lock down and going out to play every hour or so he doesnt really like the concept of strangers in masks. Hes a guard dog and doesnt understand that men in masks coming into the shop are not here to kill mom they're wearing masks so they don't kill mom.

Mondays the shop is closed anyway and I spend it installing the new heater. It doesn't quite fit in the space the old heater came out of but its warm.

Tuesday, I go to work, everyone cancels class, I once again gently explain to a regular that eugenics is bad. I would like to curse him out. I cant. He drops a grand on scuba gear and leaves, talking about how great his trip to Mexico will be.

I do not scream.

A friend calls to ask how I'm doing. Not great. Yea, her niether. She asks if I want to go out to the backcountry with her over the weekend. I explain that my leg physically does not move and I'm downing copious amounts of advil to remain upright. The doctor sent me in for an MRI but has not yet called back. Plus I'm supposed to go to Valdez for the weekend and actually go diving. That I can do with limited use of my leg.

She says yikes, take it easy, take care of yourself, I love you.

I say, yikes, I'm tired of taking it easy, I wanna play, I love you too.

Hit me up if your plans open up and we can do something gentle on your leg. She says.

God yes. The cold woods away from people sounds like paradise. I dont even care that it will cause me rending physical pain to get there. I need a break.

Its Wednesday. I go to school. I get pulled over. Miraculously I dont get a ticket. I'm white female and conventionaly attractive, maybe not so miraculous. I rolled through a stop sign but I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a ticket.

I get a text in class. One of the instructors who works with the dive shop has tested positive for covid. I haven't seen the man in 2 months. I needed a spare instructor but he was nowhere to be found. But hey, evidently that's a good thing.

I go to work. I vacillate between doing the job a 4 people and having nothing to do.

I go to the grocery store because I misjudged my last monthly grocery run and even though I'm increasing my exposure I'm out of cheese and tea damnit.

The store is packed. Pandemic who?

My partner and I haven't had a date nite in a while and this week has been shitty. I want a nice dinner. I pick up a couple boxes of the carton sushi which isnt terrible and is about as nice as I can justify on the new budget. I grab a gallon of milk and a few other things. I forgot my wallet in the truck and the cashier is chill and sets my stuff aside while I grab it.

I pay and take my stuff home and realize I left one of my bags at the store. No cheese or tea for me.

Thursday. 10am my phone goes off with an emergency alert. The govoner has grown a spine in light of recent elections and is instituting a voluntary lock down. My state has 500 new cases a day. That might not sound like a lot but theres only 300,000 people in Alaska and we've got poor medical infrastructure.

Unfortunately Alaska is full of Alaskans and nobody can tell us what to do. Nothing changes. 7pm rolls around and I'm teaching scuba classes in the pool.

I load a few hundred pounds of scuba gear into the back of my truck. In a wet wetsuit. In the snow. In a fabric facemask. 6 feet apart. In the pool.

I dont get paid for pool time.

Over the summer we had 6 dive masters including me, all big burly dudes, much better suited to picking things up. Its November and I'm the only one.

The kids I'm teaching are going to Hawaii. They're 10 and 13 and so wildly excited about breathing underwater its beautiful to watch. And they're traveling to an island. In a pandemic.

Friday.

Unload scuba gear so it doesnt get stolen out of the back of my truck while I'm at class. Were doing a make up lab today. Hey of the five student in my class only one of us has covid so theres that.

My boss calls an let's me know that shes left for Valdez without me. If I'd like to make an 8 hour drive by myself in a snowstorm I'm welcome to follow.

I'm in class till an hour before shop closing. I'm not driving across town so I can run on the open sign for half an hour.

The shop stays closed on Friday.

Saturday.

I explained to everyone we had business with that the shop would be closed over the weekend and Friday. I planned on being in Valdez. Hell I canceled plans to be in Valdez.

I open the shop and immediately field calls about why we werent open. I start to explain about the Valdez trip and logistical difficulties and then I realize that shes not mad about that. The woman was here before I opened early this morning. We have never been open that early. The hours are on the door.

A regular comes in. Hes also confused as to why I'm here.

Sunday finds me curled up in bed, reluctant to leave. Getting out of bed has not played out well for me recently.

A friend comes over to chat with my partner about specialist rifle parts. This isnt that wierd, he works at a gun shop and they've been discussing upgrading my partners current rifle set up.

He is wearing a full Scottish kilt. Red tartan. Looks very lovely.

I make zucchini bread and my proportions are a little off because I have too much zucchini so it's a little over moist but it's good. I'm recovering from an asskicker of a week and next week will be better.

Monday morning:

Baby brother has covid

Dads getting the results of his rapid test tonight.

Mom isnt getting tested because she says she doesnt have symptoms but that's not the fucking point mom.

So, I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not diving in Valdez. I'm not skiing backcountry.

I'm not sick. I'm not flat broke yet. I dont have a ticket. I have a job. I have people who care about me. Im managing my physical and mental health as best I can. Im just fucking exhausted.

[skyerana]

tagged by @ashipwreckcoast​ for a question thinger. I’m bored out of my skull and I like these questions so here you go. You should do it. Yes, you. Why? Because? I don’t have real reazons.

Putting this under a cut because its long and I don’t want to clog up your dash.\

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? Black, specifically Pilot G2 pens. But really? I like a good dark dark green. My dog ate my favorite pen and I haven’t been able to find one in that color since.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I’ve sort of done both. I love living in a city, with all the vibrancy and life that it entails. There’s public transit, arts and culture, so many kinds of food, interesting people and always something going on. But for the last few years, I’ve been wanting to get back to something like where I went to school, where I lived for 7 months on a lake and the next closest people (besides us 9) were 5 miles away (the road up to the field station was 2 miles by itself and we got snowed in and flooded in on more than one occasion). I miss being close to deep nature and the peace that comes from being alone.

So which do I prefer? I don’t really know. I’ve been living back in a city for the past eight years but I’m feeling like its time for a change. I don’t think I’ll leave cities forever though. I like people and diversity too much.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? For fun, I’d want to pick up leatherworking, blacksmithing, and/or woodworking. I’m currently not set up well to do any of them though. For practicality though, I’d want to learn general house maintenance.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Depends on the tea, but often yes. Coffee gets an obscene amount of hazelnut creamer because I hate coffee but I love caffeine.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? The Hobbit. My dad and step-dad both read it to me at different points of my childhood and my dad gave me his copy (The Hobbit or There and Back Again, 1977 Illustrated edition)

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Showers. Baths are well and good if you have a big enough one (which I don’t) and you don’t stay in so long it gets cold (I don’t).

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Upon reading this question, every single mythical creature that I’d ever read about immediately vanished from my memory. I’m going to have to come back to this one.

I came back to this one and I still don’t know. I like the idea of flying. But I don’t really want to be hunted out to extinction.

8. Paper or electronic books? I love paper books, but I read much better via ebook. I still haven’t read Gideon the Ninths because the pages are so soft I just sit and pet them instead of read.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? BOXERS! Or rather, boxer-briefs. I know this sounds weird but bear with me. For some reason, when I started transitioning, it did not occur to me to buy mens underwear. When I finally did, It Was Amazing. I looked great. I felt great. I finally understood why so many people had “fun” underwear that they liked. Before, I had like one or two that had patterns/stuff on them. Now? I’ve got Star Wars and Captain Marvel and Deadpool and mountains and mushrooms and one with boxers that makes me laugh because there’s boxers on boxers!! And I can wear them whenever the fuck I want! So I always have something fun on, even (especially) if other folks can’t see it. Switching to boxers was such a weirdly affirming thing for my gender and I love it.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? This is complicated. I like my legal name, sure, but its not me, not really. I did get the spelling updated on it legally when I was 16 so I could actually get my driver’s license. I haven’t had a chance to change my legal name since transitioning (between the election and COVID, I don’t know that I’d get through all of the legal rigmarole in time to vote in November), but I really like my chosen name and an altered version of my legal name will be my new middle name.

11. Who is a mentor to you? I’ve had so many over the years. I learn so much from people, but I had so many great mentors when I worked at the museum. Timshel stands out. If I can be half the mentor she is to someone, I’ll have put some real solid good into the world. 

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? No. Not in the everyone knows you sense. That’s not my jam. I wouldn’t mind having fame more in the sense of within a tiny field, being well known and respected.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Yes... to the point where I’m seeing a sleep specialist in a month to sort it out.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? Very much so. But there’s so many different ways to be romantic.

15. Which element best represents you? I hate these questions. I see bits of myself in all of the elements. People often associate me with air or water though.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? Distance wise, my family in California. I come from a bunch of very close knit families and so having folks on the other side of the country that I’m super close with is ihard.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? “Everyone. Being solitary by choice as opposed to demand is a big difference.” I’m just going to leave @ashipwreckcoast​‘s response here because it fits. I’m very lucky that I am still working in a (relatively) safe environment, but we’re all missing out on things like throwing a housewarming party for one of my closest friends/coworkers. Even though we see each other almost daily, we’re still missing out on a lot that we’d normally do. That’s even worse for folks I’m not seeing at all because of COVID.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I legit thought I was a wolf and would howl at the neighbors when mom packed me into the wagon to go do laundry at the laundromat. The neighbors, being good people, howled back.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? There have been a few times where I wasn’t sure what I was eating. One was at a wedding with 10 or 12 courses (I lost count) and some of them were foods I’d never seen before. I know jellyfish was on that list but there was a bunch of other stuff that I don’t know what it was. The few times I’ve been out of the country, I ate stuff I couldn’t identify (often due to language barriers). The seafood soup at the one place was just whatever they caught that day and it had a lot in it. I remember being disappointed in my fellow grad students when some of them turned it down. You don’t turn down food when you’re a guest unless you have a medical reason for doing so. But the thing is, none of these are strange, except by the US standards. So if that’s true, then the deep fried dragonfly should also be on this list. 

20. What are you most thankful for? Most? That’s so hard to quantify. If I really think about it, it’s things like having a loving partner and a home and food and the ability to pay my bills, I guess.

21. Do you like spicy food? I do not like capsaisin related spices but I love horseradish type spices. I do liked well spiced, but not necessarily spicy, foods.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? A few times. Sometimes at the museum (worked with some of them). Sometimes at special events, like attending lectures.

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? Generally no. I do sometimes get the urge to write and reflect on stuff, so I’ll do that when the mood strikes.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? I’ve been trained to use pens for everything (I work in a chem lab). Pencils are fine, but you need the right kind for the satisfying scratchiness. I cannot abide scratchiness in my pens.

25. What is your star sign? Cancer. Why is this important?

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Not super soggy but not straight out of the box crunchy. Does that make sense?

27. What would you want your legacy to be? I  want my legacy to be built on kindness and helping others. I know that’s cheesy and cliche, but I have so much privilege that I want to use to benefit others.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I love reading. I’m on book 30 for the year. The last one I finished was Starsight by Brandon Sanderson, which is book 2 of 3 of the Skyward series and HE HASN’T STARTED BOOK 3 YET!! I read Skyward and Starsight in four days total.

29. How do you show someone you love them? I often cook for them.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Only for certain things. I don’t mind drinking most drinks at room temperature and ice waters stuff down. It’s good for iced tea though, but only if you need to cool it.

31. What are you afraid of? This isn’t a fair question. I’m afraid of being abandoned or fucking things up. I’m also afraid of spiders and the milk in my fridge expiring. I’m afraid of filling out forms (forms are really hard and make me extremely anxious). I’m afraid of phone calls, but I’m good at them. I’m afraid of public speaking, but you’d never know it unless I told you. I’m afraid of losing the people I love, of dying without having put some good into the world. I’m afraid for my neighbors, for my brothers and sister, for my niece. The world is overwhelmingly scary right now.

32. What is your favourite scent? Campfires, the smell of a fresh spring rain, leather, the weird musky scent of my kitten, of garlic and onions cooking low and slow. There’s too many.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? Depends on who and in what context I know them.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I’d travel a lot more. I’d donate to a lot of things. Museums, arts, individuals. I’d love to just go on to gofundme and just straight up fund folks to their goals plus a bit extra. And then go figure out where the systematic failures were that lead to them not being able to afford it in the first place.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Ocean. Absolutely. But this is also lake and river erasure.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? I guess exchange it for USD.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yeah. They’re magical every time.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? Be kind. To yourself and others.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I’ve got several I want. I was supposed to get an anchor with an octopus chilling on it on my inner forearm for my one year anniversary on testosterone but then COVID hit and well... who know when I‘ll get it.

40. What can you hear now? Mostly just the AC and the tack of the keys on the keyboard. Occasionally a particularly loud vehicle makes itself known.

41. Where do you feel the safest? Curled up with my partner and dog.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Probs my anxiety.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? 

44. What is your most used emoji? The crying laughing one. I survive on sending stupid memes and shit back and forth with too many people. After that, the heart.

45. Describe yourself using one word. Oof

46. What do you regret the most? Not trusting myself when I figured out I was trans back in undergrad. That whole decade of burying it all and internalizing a lot of transphobia really did a number on myself.

47. Last movie you saw? I think it was Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn

48. Last tv show you watched? Rewatching Avatar with my partner right now. We just finished She-Ra.

49. Invent a word and its meaning. I just... I don’t know. I’m a Webster. I just compile what other people say in a book.

[mellifluousleaf]

Tell Me Your Lies Pt. 14

Pairing: Poly!BTS x Reader

Word Count: Unkown

Warning(s): not sure, i guess a little angst? not really tho

Note: further explanations about my long break (and smut scenarios) will be posted in another post, but thank you very much for your patience, it means a lot to me. And also, don’t worry, I don’t plan on discontinuing this series since it’s my first one and I love it very much. I do plan on finishing it and have a plan set up for the ending, it’s just taking some time for me to figure out the middle of the story. Thank you again so much for the support and I hope you will understand the slow rate at which I post. I hope that my writing continues to improve and that you all will enjoy this story. I’m also sorry this part maybe a little odd and confusing. It’s been a while since I’ve had time to write so it took some time for me to get back in the flow. Thank you again for still supporting me, I love you all <3 

Posted 23 November 2018 12:20 AM CST

Parts: 1  2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10  11  12  13  14   15   16/17(final)

Quick Synopsis: Even the sweetest of angels will sin

Strong arms gripped you as you slept, the morning sun barely slipping past the closed shades. Jimin was awake, but he wasn’t ready to move, he wanted to hold you for as long as he could.

A loud and rapid knock on the door jolted Jimin out of his daydream and caused an irritated expression to appear upon his face

He hated being interrupted during his alone time with you, so he was pissed to say the least. He grumbled a few curse words silently as he rolled off the bed, making sure not to disturb you. His footsteps barely made a noise as he slipped out the door, ready to glare at who disturbed him.

“Okay okay before you start complaining, I’m just doing whatever Namjoon told me to do, which is to make sure you’re awake and tell you to get dressed. Namjoon said BangPD needs us in the studio today to talk about something and it’s urgent” Taehyung quickly said, already sensing the irritation that rolled off Jimin’s body.

“What about Y/n?”

“Let her sleep, she might still be recovering from yesterday,” Taehyung said, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Is it really that urgent?” Jimin pressed, hoping to have more time to hold you.

“Yeah, Namjoon was pretty stressed after getting the call from BangPD.”

“…..fine I’ll get ready soon, but-“ Jimin was cut off as the door behind him creaked open, your drowsy form stumbling out of the entrance. Your eyes were shut as you rubbed at them, confusion written on your face. One of your eyes peeked open to see both Jimin and Taehyung’s gazes fixed on you.

“Good morning,” you quietly mumbled out, struggling to stand straight. Jimin quickly noticed that and encased you in his embrace, his irritated face transforming into one of affection.

“Why are you up, baby girl?”

“I got cold and heard your voice coming from the other side of the door,” you said, your voice muffled as you leaned into Jimin’s chest.

“I’m sorry baby girl, why don’t you go back to bed and get some sleep? The boys and I got an urgent call to go back to the studio today. You can spend the rest of the day resting,” Jimin suggested, pulling you in closer as he saw you start to shiver.

“We won’t be gone for too long, little flower, we should be back in time to take you out for lunch,” Taehyung informed, his deep voice making you sleepier.

You silently yawned and nodded your head, mumbling out an okay as you snuggled further into Jimin’s embrace. Taehyung’s deep chuckle echoed through the hallway as he saw you get sleepier.

“I’ll carry her back to bed, Jimin, you go and get dressed. We’ll leave once you’re done,” Taehyung said, his eyes still fixed on you. Jimin looked down at your sleepy form, tightening his grip around you. He wasn’t ready to let go of you yet, but he knew that he and the others were in a rush today. Jimin let out a soft sigh before gently guiding you into Taehyung’s grasp. Taehyung quickly picked you up bridal style and made his way around Jimin and back into the bedroom, the door softly clicking shut. Jimin stood still in the hallway for a few seconds before finally moving back to his room to go get changed. He missed you already.

———

As Taehyung carried you back into the room, he quietly admired your beautiful face, your eyes shut as you began to doze off. He gently tucked you back under the covers and paused for a few seconds as he saw you burrow into the pile of blankets. A small smile graced his lips as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Sleep well my little flower, we’ll be back soon,” he quietly said, leaning back to admire your sleeping form. He slowly began to make his trek back to the door, taking one last look at you before leaving. He was willing to give up anything to stay in that room with you for the rest of the day.

———-

All seven males were gathered in the living room now, a dominant and professional aura radiating off each of them.

“Okay, let’s head to the studio,” Namjoon said, his leader tone coming out. The boys silently filed out of the apartment, ready to get their work done with so that they could get back to you soon.

—————————-

“We’re going to have to start going on tour sooner than I thought. A few complications came up and we need to move fast. I know this week is your vacation week, but everything is a time crunch this month, I’m sorry boys,” BangPD said, looking at the seven males with an apologetic face.

The boys just stared at their manager with mixed emotions.

“When do we have to leave?” Hoseok spoke up, hoping that they would have enough time to be with you.

“At most, probably three days….” 

“But what abou-“ Jimin’s worried concern was cut off by Namjoon’s stern voice.

“We understand BangPD-nim, we’ll try to get everything packed and ready as soon as possible.”

“Thank you so much boys. The choreographer is going to come in soon and go through the entire routine today, then afterwards the dressing team will stop by and make any needed final adjustments. After that, you guys should be free to go home and pack. I’ll give you tomorrow to spend at the apartment to pack and get all your belongings. We’ll board the plane the next day. I’m so sorry again boys, but thank you so much for cooperating,” BangPD said, giving the seven males a grateful smile before leaving the room.

A few seconds passed in the silent filled room before the lights began to flicker rapidly.

“Jungkook, remain calm, focus on your breathing,” Namjoon said, his eyes glancing to the side as he kept an eye on the irritated member. 

“But we can’t leave her now, our mate bond isn’t fully complete! I’ll go fucking insane if I stay away from her for that long without our bond fully strengthened, hyung. I just fucking can’t!” Jungkook gritted out, his fist clenching in frustration.

“Jungkook, calm down, please,” Seokjin calmly said, his eyes filled with stress and exhaustion. The lights flickered for a few more seconds before becoming stable. The room was filled with tension.

“I know we all want to stay with Y/n and strengthen the mate bond, but we must remember, we have a job and fans to make proud too. Y/n won’t go anywhere, we just have to hold out for a month okay?” Namjoon sternly said, glancing around at each member. The other six males nodded their head reluctantly, an irritable aura radiating off each of them.

————————

You woke to the sound of rain pattering against the window, the room dim and quiet. You rolled onto your side and stared at the clock that adorned the wooden night stand.

3:30 pm

I must have really drunken a lot last night

Your head pounded as you made an attempt to get out of bed, shivers going up your spine as the cold floors came into contact with your feet.

You quickly grabbed your phone off the stand and attempted to turn it on, only to come to the realization that it wasn’t charged

God dammit is my charger broken again?

You tested your charger again and groaned in frustration. You looked around and tried to find another charger. You tested it but only came to the realization that your phone was completely dead.

I swear to god I just fixed this old phone a month ago

You sighed in frustration and placed the broken phone upon the night stand.

I guess I can just take a quick shower for now and get a late lunch later

You took your time gathering your towel before dragging your sluggish body to the bathroom. 

I wonder when the others will get back

————

3:30 pm

“She’s not answering her phone, hyung. She’s not answering. What if she’s avoiding us again like that one time?! What do we do?” Taehyung whimpered out as he stared down at his phone. The others were exhausted from going through the choreography, their sweat drenched bodies littering the floor. Even though their bodies ached all over, their minds were all swirling with confusions as to why you hadn’t answered their calls and texts yet, but Taehyung was the most panicked member at the moment. The uncompleted mate bond was starting to take its toll on Taehyung’s mentality.

“Tae, calm down, she’s probably just sleeping in. I’m pretty sure she’s still at the apartment,” Hoseok softly said, his voice filled with uncertainty as he rolled onto his back.

Taehyung silently stared at his phone for a few minutes before slowly blinking. His mind began filling with impulsive thoughts as he tried to calm down.

“….okay….I’m going to go take a quick shower to take my mind off some things. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Taehyung quietly said, his voice not revealing any emotions.

“Sure thing, just tell us when you’re done so that we can use it too,” Yoongi said, closing his eyes as he began to doze off.

Taehyung silently nodded as he made his way out of the room. As the door came to a close, Taehyung stopped and closed his eyes for a few seconds. As he opened them again, a quick flash of purple coated his eyes before fading away. Taehyung exhaled out the breath he was holding and began making his way towards the exit.

—————

You just finished showering and stepped out of the steam filled room. The heat that accumulated stuck to your skin as you made your way into your bedroom in search of some clothes, your towel wrapped warmly over your body. You softly hummed singularity as you rummaged through the closet, the sound of rain against the window increasing in intensity. You didn’t take note of it though because your mind was too busy deciding which hoodie to wear. After finding your outfit, you began to slide your underwater and bra on, your fingers adjusting the straps to the right position as your voice still unconsciously hummed the song.

“Fuck……”

You were startled out of your thoughts by the soft sound of a profanity being sighed out. You whirled around only to be met with Taehyung’s intense gaze, his eyes flickering with gold.

“T-Taehyung, uh w-what are you d-doing here?” you squeaked out as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze, your arms coming up to wrap your towel closer to yourself. As you shyly stared down at the floor, soft fingers found their way underneath your chin and guided your gaze to purple and gold ones.

“Don’t hide yourself from me my little flower, I won’t hurt you. ” Taehyung whispered, his hot breath fanning over your cheek. His eyes flickered to your lips as his fingers gently caressed your cheek.

You were too in shock by the sudden appearance of Taehyung to react to anything at the moment. Strong arms began to wrap around your waist as Taehyung pulled your body flush to his, his nose nuzzling your neck.

“God I fucking missed you,” he quietly said as he littered kisses across your freshly showered skin. Each kiss burnt against your skin, sending your mind into a numbed state. Your hands instinctively came up against Taehyung’s chest as you tried to comprehend what was happening. Taehyung smirked against your neck as he increased the amount of kisses he was peppering along your skin, his grip on you tightening.

The touch of his fingertips around your waist left a burning sensation that made you crave him more. You felt soft feathers brush against your back as you whimpered out a moan as Taehyung nibbled slightly on your earlobe. The cold brush of Taehyung’s wings wrapped around you sent shivers down your spine.

What the fuck is happening right now….

The moment the whimper left your lips, Taehyung had you pinned down on the bed as his wings curled around the two of you. His eyes glimmered with indecipherable emotions as he stared down. Your eyes flickered to Taehyung’s as your eyes widen in surprise. As you became mesmerized by the gold and purple streaks that curled around Taehyung’s pupils, soft wings curled in to brush against your cheek, the wings moving as if they had a mind of their own. The soft flickers and brushes of the feathers along your cheek sent warmth all over your body. You instinctively reached out to touch one of them with gentle hands. Your actions were met with a deep groan as Taehyung melted into your touch.

“Jesus Christ…” he softly panted out as you continued to run your hand through his wing, your other hand coming up to tangle in the feathers of the other wing.

“B-baby girl, please…” he moaned out as his body became weak to your touch. His strength quickly left him helpless in your hands, his arms giving out and forcing him to hold himself up by his forearms.

“Baby girl, p-please stop, I can’t control myself if you keep doing this…” Taehyung reluctantly said, his body reacting to each touch you applied to his sensitive wings. You were too lost in thought to realize the warning that Taehyung gave.

In a flash, the room was filled with an intense wind that brought the room to shambles. The sound of a table being knocked over and books falling down jolted you back to reality. Your hands immediately retracted in fear as you stared up at Taehyung. His body still hovered over you, but his eyes were closed shut in pain as he tried to reign in his control again. His translucent wings softly glowed with gold as they encased you in a protective cocoon. Paper was flying around your room like a tornado, and everything was out of place. You trembled in fear as you began to curl into yourself, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you shut your eyes, panic beginning to enter your bloodstream.

He won’t hurt me, he won’t hurt me

You tried to convince yourself that you were safe, but your attempts were met with failure.

The glass from the window began to crack as the wind inside the room picked up in intensity, the sound cutting through the chaos. Your eyes widened in fear as you quickly glanced at the window.

“T-Taehyung…Please stop…. P-please!…TAEHYUNG,” you yelled out in warning, a sob breaking through your voice as the pent up fear finally got to you. Your pleading was mixed with whimpers as tears started flowing down your face.

It was at that moment that Taehyung opened his eyes to see your trembling form. His heart immediately stopping as he saw tears adorn your face. The wind inside the room quickly ceased as his chest began radiating with pain.

“B-baby girl, my sweet flower, p-please don’t cry,” he softly whispered out as the pain increased in intensity.

“P-please,” he softly whimpered again. The sight of you crying was literally tearing him apart. The mate bond was punishing him at that moment.

Your eyes were still shut in fear as you tried to curl into yourself, muffled cries filling the room as you attempted to calm your mind. Taehyung was becoming desperate as he began to see darkness creeping along the peripherals of his vision. He was close to passing out from the pain.

He immediately pulled your hands away from your face as he crashed his lips into yours, the pain in his chest immediately being alleviated. He mumbled out apologies as he moved his lips against yours, his mouth tasting the salty tears that continued to flow down your cheeks. He unknowingly began to cry too as he pulled you into an embrace, his lips never leaving yours. Your tears became mixed with Taehyung’s as your mind began to calm down, your body melting back into Taehyung’s hold. Taehyung still whimpered out apologies as he passionately kissed you, his hands extremely delicate as he held you. He was afraid to hurt you at that moment. It took a few more minutes before both of your heart rates settled down to a steady rhythm. Your body was exhausted from all the fear and crying as you limply laid against Taehyung’s chest.

“I-I….i-I’m so sorry my little flower, I’m so sorry,” Taehyung sorrowfully said as he placed a kiss upon your head, his arms tightening slightly.

“…I-it’s okay Tae… I..I should have listened when you said to stop…. I’m sorry,” you quietly whispered in response, shifting your body closer to his as you snuggled into his embrace.

“No no, baby girl. I’m the one that should be apologizing. I made a promise to never hurt you again and that’s exactly what I just did. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay Tae, I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay… let’s just sleep for now…. we can worry about this when we wake up,” you softly yawned out, curling into Taehyung’s warmth.

“….okay baby girl… anything for you.” Your body became limp in Taehyung’s arms as you fell into a deep slumber.

“I love you so much my little flower, so much,” Taehyung whispered as he pulled you closer to him, letting his eyes close shut as exhaustion took over his body.

———-

“Has anyone noticed that Taehyung has been in the shower for quite some time…..” 

“Oh fuck”

[ryik-the-writer]

Chapter 21 - The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3

[A03]

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story) Chapter 3: Day One Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress Chapter 7: Operation Spotless! Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1 Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2 Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground Chapter 14. Recovery Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more Chapter 15: Trapped Chapter 16: Filth Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1 Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2 Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 1 Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2

                                         0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

I began writing Papers and Sleuthers just after OUAT 3B aired.

I was already frustrated after the show severely underused the Peter Pan characters and ultimately threw them away. I knew I wanted to write something, but I couldn’t grasp just what.

Then one day, I was dozing in the back seat of my aunt’s car and saw a missing poster for a dalmatian, and my humble little fic was born.

By season 4, I was starting college and was hit with a terrifying apprehension for the future to the point where I considered abandoning writing altogether.

While I did put a pin in several stories, I never could turn away from P&S. I don’t really know why; maybe because I was starving for more fics with these characters; maybe I was hiding from my problems in the ones of these characters.

I conceived Revenge and Fireflies while I was studying for a French exam; popped out the end of Operation: Spotless during my first Christmas break; cried through Wendy’s fight with Edward and her father in Reporters Down, and after a year and a half long hiatus, I finally got to write Pan’s more human side when he reconnected with Belle in The Girl with Blue Eyes

Now, my 23, freshly graduated from college, and once again I’m that scared writer-wanna-be who must beg their selves to function.

P&S has been with me through a portion of my life when I was ecstatic with the idea of the future and loathed it at the same time.

I can’t end it—I just can’t. It’s in my bones. A shitty fic conceived from a shitty show. But I want to keep it going for as long as possible. As long as I keep going. Even if it takes years.

Anyway, here’s Papers and Sleuthers.

                                      0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Yesterday

Wendy was furious with him, and Pan was enjoying the shit out of it.

Toying with Wendy’s sanity was becoming a much-enjoyed habit for Pan, he concluded. He kept her disgusted with him enough that she kept her distance—kept her self safe from the filth of him—but just close enough that he could revel in her misery.

He had to think of his self, didn’t he?

But his reveling was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone.

Duty calls. Probably Glass calling to bitch about putting an unapproved story in the morning paper.

Just another day in Storybrooke.

But when he saw the name on the screen, he felt a twinge of panic.

Just a twinge—Peter Pan was always collected—except when he wasn’t.

Wendy began yelling at him again as he answered, and between her yelling and the person on the phone, he couldn’t make out a word anyone was saying.

Thus he threw off his bedcovers to send Wendy into a temporary state of shock, smothering a bark of laughter at her pink face. From the corner of his eye he could see August—who for some damn reason had helped himself to his coffee AND favorite mug.

“Alright, repeat that.” Pan asserted with a slight smirk.

“Pan this is bad this is so bad oh my god this is so bad!”

“Astrid, slow down.” Pan demanded over the phone.

“Pan, Mother Superior…she’s…she’s dead!”

Pan felt the coldness in his blood slowly freeze into hard crystals.

“What? When?”

“This morning!” Astrid sobbed. “Pan…I…I’m so scared!”

Pan managed not to turn to Wendy, though he desperately wanted to.

He needed to see her eyes.

This whole thing could be pure coincidence. The holy terror could have finally met her end and died in her sleep…but there were no such things as coincidences, not in Storybrooke and not mere hours after Pan had run her in the dirt using Wendy’s name.

“Damn…”

“Pan!”

“Yeah, sorry for swearing, whatever. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up before he could get her response.

Had he stayed on the line just a second longer, he could have caught the tail-end of her worry, and subsequently, her confession.

“It was an accident Pan! I was only trying to get her to admit what she did! I just want my freedom! I didn’t mean for anything to happen to her! Pan? Pan…”

 0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 It wasn’t until the icy wind of the cold November night hit Wendy in the face that the exact caliber of what they were about to do sank in:

They were going after Mother Superior’s probable killer. A girl—according to Pan—was as much of a victim in all this as Wendy was, as any of the nuns from the convent were.

Victim or not, Pan was willing to scapegoat Astrid…for her.

Wendy’s stomach twisted in guilt. No, no matter if she was guilty or not, she couldn’t allow that poor girl to go to jail, not without all the facts.

Her mind started racing for someway to just…slow everything down. What would they do if they found her? Would they call the police? Or would Pan set the entire town on fire just to help her get away?

She peaked up from Pan’s shoulder and could just catch the corner of his eye. What was he going to do? And what was she going to do to stop him?

They were around the corner from the convent when Pan came to a screaming halt, cursing ‘shit!’ as Wendy’s nails dug into his abs to prevent from getting thrown into the asphalt.

“The hell. Pan!” she hissed. He shushed her instantly, pulling her from the moped and ducking behind a bush. Wendy pushed the hair from her face and saw the pulsing of police lights just at the entrance of the convent.

“Fuck!” Pan hissed. “Double fucking hell!”

“Do they have her?” Wendy whispered.

“No, doesn’t look like it.” Pan responded. “Graham must have figured it out! That dirty bloodhound!”

Wendy shook her head, trying to calculate their next move—should they need one at all.

If Astrid were caught and confessed, Wendy’s name would be cleared.

But there was something else going on, something Pan was once again not letting her in on.

Whoever this ‘Astrid’ was, she meant enough to Pan that he was running after her, and Wendy sensed it was not for the sole purpose of clearing Wendy’s name.

He said he helped her before, and however he did so may have caused their predicament with the dead head nun.

The police must have thought so as well if they were at the convent.

They watched as Deputy Nolan exited the front door, saying something to Graham that caused him to send a command into his walkie-talkie.

Pan nudged her arm. “We have to go.”

“Where?” she whispered as she helped him roll his moped a quiet distance away.

“If Astrid’s not at the convent, there’s one other place she might be, but we need to get there before Graham and his pack do.”

Wendy nodded and jumped on the back of the moped as Pan hurriedly started it up, holding on for dear life as he drove them into uncertainty.

                                                   0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 She hadn’t seen the docks yet, Wendy realized as Pan eased into the eerily quiet area.

It was strange, after a month and a half of pure trauma, she thought she saw all Storybrooke had to offer. Yet there was this massive and important part of the town she’d just looked over.

A part that apparently was harboring a possible killer.

Just on the edge of a very rickety boardwalk was a small boat with a barely visible light flickering inside, the only light on the entire dock.

“Why are we here?” Wendy whispered, lowering the flashlight on her cellphone to its lowest setting.

“In that boat is a man named Leroy Miner,” Pan explained. “He’s been Astrid’s secret lover for about four years now.”

Wendy blinked at the reveal and awaited its significance to their plight.

“She planned to elope with him several years ago, but Mother Superior stopped them, and incited a dash of blackmail with Leroy to add to the pot.”

Wendy nodded, releasing a knowing breath. It was a motive for murder, but why would Astrid wait so long to go through with it? She hardly seemed like a cold-blooded killer. Did it simply take her several years of being pushed to her limit, of not being with the man she loved, to finally set her off?

Or maybe she hadn’t been the one to be set off at all?

“Do you think this Leroy man had something to do with Mother Superior’s murder?” Wendy inquired. She could just see the outline of Pan’s face in the dark.

“I plan to find out,” Pan growled, rushing up to the boat. Wendy scurried after him.

“It could be dangerous! What if this Leroy man has a gun?”

Pan scoffed. “When have either one of us ever been intimidated by a gun?”

A brief flash of Cruella’s black and white hair struck Wendy’s mind and she went very quiet.

Unperturbed, Pan stepped onto the boat’s step, ready to bang on the door and demand Astrid’s whereabouts.

“Get the fuck away from that door Pan!”

Wendy shot around, shining her light on a squinting Tink.

“Watch it!” she hollered, blinking in irritation.

Pan jumped off the stepped. “The hell are you doing here!” he hissed, monitoring his tone in case he alerted the occupants of the boat.

She was going to ruin everything.

“I could ask you the same thing you little shit!” Tink spat, her own flashlight shaking in her hands. “But I believe I already know the answer to that.” She glanced around him to glare at Wendy. “Trying to get part two of your little fuckfest?”

Wendy swallowed a large lump in her throat. She knew Tink’s anger was misguided, but it still hurt to be so rawly despised by the truest friend she had in town.

Oddly, it was her worst enemy who stepped in front of her, shielding her from the ex-nun’s fire.

“You’re going to feel like a total jackass when this is all over,” Pan stated. “But for now I need you to shut the hell up an leave before you blow this whole thing.”

“Oh kiss a rattle snake Pan! I’ve been doing our own investigation. And I know what you’re about to do!”

“You mean trying to save a technically innocent woman from going to jail?”

“From framing her in the first place!” Tink yelled. “You’re trying to pin this on her and I won’t allow it!”

“Pin it?” Pan scoffed. “I know good and damn well she had something to do with it!”

“You’re here to stir up trouble like you always do! You’re going to mess her up just like you did Wendy!”

Wendy winced, and from the corner of her eye she could see lights of homes flickering on in the distance.

“Perhaps we should move this somewhere else?” Wendy called out in concern.

“Why would we do that! This is perfect! I’m so glad we can have this conversation out in the fucking open!” Pan howled, the sound loud and violent enough to wake half of Storybrooke.

And the occupants of Leory’s boat.

Through the curtained windows Wendy could see a fluster of movement and just the faintest clatter of glass. The string of movement traveled to the door until it slung open, revealing a stalky man in a wifebeater holding a baseball bat.

“You better have one hell of a reason to—” the man lowered his bat when he saw Pan glaring stolidly at him, a wide-eyed Wendy ducking just behind him.

“Pan?” he barked.

“Leroy.” Pan spat.

“Tink?”

“Not now Leroy!” Tink yelled.

“Oh for God’s sake!” he exclaimed.

“Leroy!” came a squeaky, much more feminine voice behind him.

The commotion stopped, and Wendy peeked behind Pan’s shoulder as Leroy muttered a hasty apology to the person, catching a glimpse of the itchy fabric the nuns had to wear as skirts.

“Astrid?” Tink inquired hopefully.

A small sound came from behind Leroy and in a moment the young murder suspect revealed herself.

The two nuns eyed each other for a moment, each taking in their distinctions. Astrid’s overly-ironed uniform that clung to her like a straightjacket. Tink’s messy updo and rugged jeans, ripped at the seams from constant wears.

One was caged. The other was free.

Yet they both were still wearing their own pair of shackles.

“Astrid,” Tink greeted with a wet smile. “I…”

“I was going to call you!” Astrid blurted out, her hands twitching. “Afterwards…when…” she glanced at Leroy.

Tink nodded, the worry resurfacing in her eyes.

“Please tell me what happened.” Tink begged. “The sisters said you disappeared sometime this morning, after Mother Superior…” Tink shook her head, her gaze landing on a sole overstuffed bag just beside the couch. Astrid had literally packed everything she owned.

Wendy heard talking from a distance, and knew they were seconds away from having a run-in with Graham.

“Like I said, let’s move this,” Wendy commanded.

Pan gave Leroy a dark look, and with a grumble he stepped aside to allow the three into his crowded boat.

But then, there was total silence. Everyone was staring at each other, unsure of who to trust, who would turn out to be the real enemy.

Wendy wanted this all to end so bad, but the only way it would be so was if the woman in front of her somehow confessed to Mother Superior’s murder. And that, no matter the consequence for her, is not what she wanted.

Wendy met the timid eyes, earnestly begging her to say something. The poor woman sensed her plea, and her fingers weaved nervously through her starchy skirt.

“I…I…” Astrid hesitated from behind the solidly-built man in front of her.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Leroy insisted.

Pan made a rush at the nun, stepping right up to her and avoiding Leroy’s ready bat.

“Astrid,” he said calmly, his fingers twitching to reach out and grab her. “You need to tell us what happened.”

“Don’t answer him sweetie!” Leroy warned. “It’s a trap! Look what they did to Mother Superior!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Wendy cut in.

“Sure it wasn’t!” Leroy snarled. “You’re just the one who wrote the story! How many more lives do you want to ruin tonight?”

Wendy locked her jaw to prevent herself from yelling at this man. He was only defending Astrid, she knew, but she was about damn tired of people jumping to conclusions about her.

Much to her curiosity it was Pan who stepped forward and got into the stalky man’s face.

“How about you shut up and let us settle this before someone else ends up dead?” he warned, low and frightening enough that Wendy’s throat in apprehension.

“Do not threaten him!” Tink warned, stepping between Leroy and Pan.

Pan gritted his teeth, wanting to scream at her to go away. She was going to ruin everything! But he saw the rawness in her light brown eyes. She didn’t hate him; Tink didn’t have that kind of bitterness in her soul, even towards him.

And there was something else there, something he hadn’t seen even when she was being pulled out of Jekyll’s morgue drawers.

Fear.

Fear for Astrid, fear for the a future without her wicked mother.

“Yesterday you escorted Wendy into Mother Superior’s office, right?” he inquired more softly.

“Y…yes.” Astrid admitted.

“Astrid, be careful.” Leroy warned.

“But you didn’t leave them? You hung back, heard a few things?”

“No!” Astrid defended earnestly. “I mean…I did hear the beginning of the conversation, but I left,” she nodded, as if trying to convince herself.

“What did you hear,” Wendy asked.

“Just…” Astrid fidgeted. “Who you were and that she upset your friend. But I left after that I swear!”

Wendy nodded, remember the bits of the conversation.

“But you didn’t stay away for long, did you?” Pan pressed, and Wendy turned to see the lifelessness in his eyes. Gone was the gamemaster who had his target corner. All that was left was a guilty man who had to make the strenuous decision of turning over the culprit and letting an innocent person take the fall if he didn’t.

“When did you go back?” Wendy continued.

“Later,” Astrid continued, and Leroy led her to the bruised couch. “I saw you,” she said to Wendy. “I saw you break in…but I recognized you from earlier, so I hesitated to call the police…I just… didn’t.” she looked back to Pan. “Then I saw you. You were running, and I thought something was wrong.”

Wendy glanced at Pan, forgotten aggravation over yesterday’s interference resurfacing. Though Pan didn’t return her look, she could feel the cockiness radiating just under his skin.

With a smothered roll of her eyes, she replayed her confrontation with Mother Superior in bouts. Her coming across the half cross, confront the head nun on it and nearly losing her hand when she took the cross back. And then, of course, Pan making his grand entrance and stealing her thunder, though to his credit his presence did cause her to finally admit what she did to Tink.

Wendy rubbed her temple. If she had just looked over her shoulder, she might have seen Astrid, might have prevented all of this.

“You heard everything,” Wendy concluded. “Mother Superior’s confession, and her promise to deny everything.”

Astrid slowly closed her eyes, the guilt written all over her face.

“Astrid,” Pan growled. “Whatever you saw or did after we left will determine what’s going to happen next. To you, to Tink,” he barely nudged Wendy’s way. “And even to her.”

The young nun’s head shot up, meeting Wendy’s dull gaze. Wendy gasped at the wounded look in her eyes, and knew in a single moment that no matter what happened after tonight, whether she came forward or not, she couldn’t hate her.

All she could see in that moment was Tink leaning into Felix’s arms as she struggled not to fall apart.

She’s always doing this.

Surrogate, but just barely.

Make it stop.

She wasn’t looking at a crazed vengeful murderer. She was looking at an abuse survivor.

And whether she had anything to do with Mother Superior’s death or not, she didn’t deserve any of the backlash from it.

Wendy went looking for the truth to give Tink some well-deserved closure. It was more than apparent to her now that Astrid deserved the same.

“Wait…” Wendy sighed, ready to end the whole mess when there was a loud bang on the door.

“Shit!” Leroy yelled, raising his bat. Astrid gasped and pressed herself into the corner.

“Leroy, open the door!” came Graham’s brogue.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Pan hissed.

Wendy gasped as Tink shot past her to run to Nova. If Graham came through, it was over for both of them.

The young journalist gulped, her mind readying a very stupid idea that would either save her or endanger all of them.

“Is there a back door?” Wendy whispered to Leroy.

The stout man’s face lit with realization. “Yes, and there’s a supply shed just down the docks. She can stay there until I get these pests out of here.”

Wendy nodded. “Astrid, come with me.”

“I’m coming too,” Tink announced, stashing Astrid’s bag in a small cupboard.

“We’ll all go,” Pan added, looking out one of the back blinds. “All clear.”

Graham knocked on the door again and Leroy called out to keep him occupied while the four of them quietly left through the back.

Wendy could here someone walking around on top of the boat, no doubt looking for evidence for Astrid’s arrival. Up a head a flashlight was hovering about, and Pan grabbed her by the collar to keep her from walking out into it.

As soon as it lifted, the four of them quietly sprinted towards the direction of the shed, all worried that if they looked back they’d be caught for sure.

Pan struggled to get the rusty door open, the friction causing the metal to scream in protest, giving away their position. He did manage to get it open just enough for them all the slip in, the overwhelming smell of salt filling their lungs as Pan closed them in.

Wendy brought out her cellphone, the dim light barely adding illumination to the dark room.

“Watch your step,” Pan warned, pulling out his own cellphone to aid her. “One false move and you’ll fall into the water.

“Thanks for the tip,” Wendy deadpanned as Tink added her phone light as well.

They managed to find overturned barrels to sit on while they waited, using the cracks in the walls to watch the police raid from a far.

Tink had Astrid nestled close to her side, protecting her from the elements—and worse—the two people in the room who wanted her to talk.

Wendy squinted at Pan, his emotions disjointed from the light. What were they going to do, she asked with her eyes.

I’m working on it, he said with his own.

“I…I had to have proof.”

Wendy turned to a mousy Astrid. “Proof? Proof of what?”

“Remember what Leroy said,” Tink jumped in, glaring at Wendy, “You don’t have to say anything.”

 “No, no I do,” Astrid gasped, pulling herself from her surrogate sister’s loving embrace. “I-I-I need to let this out. I need to confess to what I did.”

“Hold it,” growled Tink as she jumped up and stalked over to Pan. He barely had time to raise his eyebrows before Tink lifted him by his collar and began groping his pockets.

 “The shit Tink!” Pan yelled, swatting her hands away.

 Tink pushed him back harshly against the barrel. “Just had to be sure you weren’t recording this,” she snarled. “Rule one, right?”

 “Rule two, actually,” Pan growled.

 With Pan checked, Tink nodded to Astrid, giving her her blessing to continue.

 Wendy rolled past him, anxious to hear Astrid’s truth.

 “You were there that night, weren’t you?” Wendy gasped, searching her eyes in the weak light.

“I was…returning from Leroy’s,” she said with a shy smile. “And my room is right near Mother Superior’s office.”

Wendy watched as her hands wrung nervously in her skirt.

“So you heard me talking to her?” Wendy pressed carefully.

“Yeah…” Astrid sighed. “I heard…everything.” She glanced to Tink, tears in her eyes. “Tink I’m so sorry!”

Tink shook her head, though her face was as blank as a fresh coat of paint.

“So then, what, you stuffed pills down her throat?”

“Pan!” Tink warned.

“I’m just trying to wrap this up.” Pan shrugged.

“You know good and damn well she didn’t kill her, Pan!” Tink fought.  “Why the hell are you trying to in this on her?”

Pan glanced Astrid’s way and clenched his teeth when she didn’t meet his eyes. He brushed past Tink and Wendy and sat right in front of her, making their knees touch to keep her attention.

“You heard what she did, and couldn’t take it, so you went into her office and drugged her up.”

“No!” Astrid gasped.

“Or maybe you waited until she drugged herself up and slipped some more in?” Pan shrugged. “She have a nice cup of tea before she croaked?”

Tink grabbed his shoulder. “Pan I’m fucking warning you?”

“Or maybe you walked in at the right time?” he smiled cruelly. “Maybe she already overdosed and you made sure she didn’t come back from it.”

“No!” Astrid sobbed. “I would never do something like that, I couldn’t!”

“Yes you can I know you can! I watched you—”

Before he could finish his accusation, someone grabbed him by the collar and pulled him around. In a second he was on the rotting wood, his nose aching and bloody, his head spinning from the adrenaline of it all.

A shout followed next.

And then a thud of something heavy hitting the ground.

The lights danced from the confusion, and for a moment Pan was surrounded by blackness.

Yet somehow it was nearly as terrifying as it should have been.

He smirked, the feeling of blood on his fingers expected but still a unrequited surprise.

He reached across the floor to grab his phone, using the light to illuminate his attacker’s bloody, clenched wrist, and then her face, ready to congratulate Tink on finally getting it all out of her system.

His smile faded some when he saw it was actually Wendy, her eyes bloodshot from unshed tears, her breath labored.

Pan took in a shaky breath, squashing his instinct to fight back.

She needed this. He wanted her to have it.

“I just went to get proof.”

 Pan glanced up at Astrid. “Proof of what? What the hell did you take?”

 “I’m guessing that,” Wendy answered, nodding just behind Tink and Astrid.

 Tink followed her gaze and the sight of the familiar lusterless metal stilled the air in her lungs.

 Astrid hurried to the object, cradling it to her chest.

 “She was asleep when I went in, so I searched for anything to prove what she did. Paperwork or something, but I found this instead.”

 Tink reached out and took the object, the other half of her begotten cross.

 Pan stood, wiping his nose as he addressed the hurting woman.

 “I was going to send it to you later, but I wanted to keep it in case she…”

 “In case she what?” inquired Wendy.

 Astrid looked absolutely miserable. “I…I was planning on leaving the convent for a long time. Leroy finally fixed the engine in his boat and we were going to leave,” she smiled fondly. “We were finally leaving this place.” Astrid shook her head—there was no time for sentimentals. “So, I searched her drawers until I found that, and I was going to call her as soon as I was out of Storybrooke to tell her what I knew.”

 “So that she wouldn’t come after you,” Pan muttered.

 “Exactly,” Astrid concluded wetly. “And—and I swear she was breathing when I left! She was just sleeping! I swear…I don’t know what happened after I left.”

 Tink wrapped her arms around her from behind.

 “Don’t.” Tink breathed. “Don’t say anymore. I believe you. I get it.”

 Wendy gulped, stepping forward in hopes of comforting both of them.

 This is all my fault.

 “Don’t!” Tink sobbed. “Just stay away from me,”

 Astrid pulled away from Tink, holding her hands up in defense.

 “No, Tink she didn’t do any of this!” Astrid proclaimed. “She told Mother Superior she would let her tell you everything.”

 Tink glanced at Wendy, disbelief glassing over her eyes.

 “But you published it anyway,” she said quietly. “You published her filth for the entire town to see.”

 “No she didn’t,” Astrid jumped in before Wendy could defend herself. “She wanted to give you two a chance. Even Pan said—”

 “Pan?” Tink questioned. “What the hell does he have to…”

 Wendy gulped when the realization blossomed in her eyes.

 Pan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was fucked.

 “You did this.” Tink said, not as a question but as a fact. “This was all you…” she paused, her lips twitching until her body shook with rusty laughter.

 “Oh my god of course this was you!” she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You…you do shit like this all the time!”

 “Tink—”

 “You take…” she breathed in a shaky breath of stale air and limped up to Pan, inches from his stoic face. “Innocent people…their lives…everything they love…and you crush it!”

 Pan remained still, even as the spit flew from her mouth and hit him.

 Let her have this.

 “I trusted you,” Tink cried. “I forgave you even after everything! After you let the psychopath lock me in a fucking drawer!”

 Pan flinched, but kept his gaze with the spitting ex-nun.

 “But why?” Tink gasped. “Why me? Why hurt me like this? Why her!” she motioned to Wendy. “Do you have any idea the things I said to her because of you?”

 Wendy wiped the tears from her cheeks and willed herself to speak for Pan.

 “He wasn’t trying to hurt you Tink—”

 “You stay out of this!” Tink yelled at her. “This is still on you as much as him!”

 “Oh please,” Pan snorted. “She’s doesn’t have the gall to pull something like this.”

 “To ruin lives?” Tink laughed. She glanced briefly at Wendy and nodded. “That much I believe.”

 “This was never to hurt you Tink,” Pan sighed. “This was to take that bitch down once and for all. Wendy just stumbled on the perfect gateway.”

 “Oh please,” Wendy gagged. “You invited yourself to my investigation.”

 “If I hadn’t showed up she would have knocked your ass out and nailed you to a cross.”

 “Sacrilegious much?” Wendy snarked.

 Astrid shook her head. “But who killed her then?”

 Wendy and Pan looked at each other, both wishing they had some kind of answer.

 Tink moved past them and slumped exhaustedly on her barrel.

 “Maybe it really was an accident,” Tink shrugged. “Maybe she took too much Vitacin and…” her shoulders began to quake. “went to sleep.”

 Astrid was by her side in an instant, consoling her friend and releasing her own sorrows.

 Pan stood back, dumbfounded and sobbing women before him.

 All he could see was Felix running after the devil nun as she dragged Tink away…begging her to let her go.

 To set her free.

 “You’re hurting her!”

 “Why!” Pan yelled at them, starling even Wendy.

 “Why are you crying over that bitch? She hurt you both! She hurt so many others! And you shed tears over her? Why? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

 Please thank me. I did this for you.

 “She was my mother, Pan!” Tink screamed.

 “Oh why the hell does that matter now!” he spat.

 “Because if I had found out from her rather than reading it in the fucking paper, maybe we could have a chance?”

 “Chance at what?”

 “To forgive!” Tink cried. “To begin again. To…something.”

 Something.

 Why was it always ‘something’?

 “Now…I’ll never have that.” She rested her head on her clasped hands. Like she was praying.

 To what?

 “I’ll never know what it’s like to have a mom who truly loves me. If she were alive…if I knew everything…I might have had a chance then.”

 Tink’s word cut Wendy to her core. When she first came to Storybrooke she was terrified of losing her mother. Even as she proved victorious in her fight with cancer, that god-awful fear refused to stop chewing at her brain.

 Through the fear there was an intense love that made the cells in her bones sing. Her mother always had her back, always protected from her the ostracizing voices around her.

 The very idea of anyone—especially Tink—not having that, and never having, broke Wendy’s spirit.

 “Tink, I’m so sorry,” Wendy said. Sorry for the investigation. For Tink’s lost youth. Even for Mother Superior and the crater of emotion her death had left on her begotten daughter.

 Pan tensed.

 Not you too. Please Wendy don’t.

 “Well this sob fest isn’t getting us anywhere,” Pan exclaimed. “We need to come up with a plan. Astrid says Mother Superior was still alive when she met. That either means someone finished her off or it really was an accident.”

 “Then let’s just turn ourselves over,” Wendy suggested. “Astrid had nothing to do with Mother Superior’s death, and neither did we.”

 Pan rolled his eyes. “That watchdog will get us for everything else but murder. Breaking and entering, evading the police, knocking out a doctor and stealing an autopsy report—”

 “Half of that is on you!” Wendy shouted at him.

 “Technically you broke into the convent on your own, I just followed you in,” Pan winked.

 “On your suggestion!” Wendy fought.

 “This all started because you couldn’t mind your own damn business!”

 “I was trying to help my friend! What have you done good lately!”

 Before he could fire back, the door to the shed opened with a rusted scream.

 “Astrid!”

 The three gathered around the scared nun, using their bodies as barriers between her and the intruder.

 “Astrid your safe!”

 The three let out a strained breath of relief as Leroy’s stalky body bounded through the shed and took hold of Astrid’s freezing hands.

 “It’s over, they know what happened to Mother Superior! You’re not a suspect any more!”

 “What?” Pan exclaimed.

 Leroy turned to him but his eyes stopped on Tink, his wide thankful grin vanishing at her tear-stained face.

 “Oh Tink.”

 “What is it Leroy,” Pan ordered.

 Wendy watched in uncertainty as the man stumbled for words, for a way to spare Tink from the pain she didn’t deserve.

 However, there were times when one needed to just be…blunt.

 “Tink, they found a suicide note.”

                                                                                                 0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 Wendy rubbed her eyes, exhaustion sinking into her bones. She gasped when she looked at the overhead clock in Graham’s office: 8:30 p.m. This day seemed to be lasting forever.

 Across the room Pan was still wiping dried blood from his bruised nose. Wendy wondered if he felt guilty at all, if he would show any change at all from the experience.

 Then again, she wondered the same thing after the de Vil incident as well as the Jekyll one. He was still cold, and reckless, and illusive.

 Through the glass window she could see Leroy and Astrid standing, looking utterly relieved. Tink was in the other office with Deputy Nolan giving her own statement.

 Wendy couldn’t help but smile. They’d all been to hell and back, but it was all almost over. Astrid and Leroy could begin their lives anew, and Wendy could work on earning Tink’s trust back. She was indirectly responsible for her grief, and as much as she hated to admit it, Pan was right about her busy-bodiness. She shouldn’t have done any of this without Tink’s blessing.

 However, Tink would have closure now, even if forgiveness was a long way off.

 Graham finally walked them to the door, but Astrid looked over her shoulder, smiling brightly at Wendy. The young journalist could see years of stress melt off her face.

 Thank you, she seemed to say.

 “Good,” Wendy sighed, relaxing in her seat. “Good,”

 Graham returned shortly and the two journalists were faced with a new mystery: how were they going to be punished for their various crimes.

 “I should lock both of you up,” Graham said. “This has been a day from hell.”

 “Glad we could add some excitement in your pointless life,” Pan smirked.

 “Shut it!” Graham warned, and though Pan’s smirk didn’t fade he became blessedly quiet.

 “Then…just what are you going to do to us?” Wendy inquired tentatively.

 “Shut up rookie!” Pan hissed. “Never show fear, rule six!”

 “You both shut up!”

 Wendy and Pan both flinched when Sydney’s voice boomed through the police station.

 Wendy herself felt a chill at the site of him, but not necessarily for the rage on his face. Glass had to use a cane due to the back injury he received during the showdown with Jekyll’s lackey. Just the thought of the battle made Wendy’s blood curdle.

 “I leave you two to your own devices for a day and you almost become accessories in a murder!” he yelled at them.

 “Please, we were barely witnesses—”

 “I mean it, Pan!”

Pan stopped talking, but he popped his jaw as loudly as he could just to prove he wasn't going to be put down.

 Glass sighed, leaning tiredly against Graham’s death.

 “This was too close a call, and your actions caused a lot a problems.”

 “That’s journalism, Glass,” Pan muttered.

 “You’re both suspended.”

 “What!” Pan roared.

 “One week.”

 “Like hell we are!” Pan jumped up.

 In a flash Glass had the end of his cane just pressing into Pan’s windpipe. The younger man barely flinched, but he didn’t try to pick a fight.

 “I’m warning you, leave, and shut the hell up,” Glass growled. “Or so help me I will make sure your writing Garden Club updates until the day you die.”

 Wendy could see steam rising from Pan’s skin. He was ready to explode, and he would more than likely take half the block out with him.

 “Go home, Pan,”

 Pan glare turned to Wendy, piercing into her soul. Wendy resisted his heat. She’d accepted her part in this and would gladly accept her punishment. He couldn’t hurt her.

 With a growl Pan slapped Glass’s cane away and stormed out of the office, the concrete of each step sounding as if it was breaking under his seething stomp.

 The rest of the party flinched when Pan slammed the door downstairs.

 “As for you kid,” Glass continued exhaustedly. “I’ll drive you home.”

 Wendy nodded and followed him without protest, avoiding Graham’s downcast eyes.

 The ride to her apartment was slow and quiet, the humming of the heat a dutiful distractor from the slight tension between the two journalists.

 “For what it’s worth, kid,” Glass spoke. “What you did was pretty damn impressive, but this on top of everything else you and Pan have stirred up, it was either cut you down or let Graham cage you.”

 “Duly noted,” Wendy sighed.

 Another short bout of quiet followed until Glass began to shuffle around in his saddle back, worrying the woman with his slight swerving.

 “Check it out,” he said as he handled her a wrinkled paper. “A rought draft of tomorrow’s paper.”

 Wendy gulped at the large printed headline of Mother Superior’s story. She scanned through the story, the first-testimony coming from another nun at the convent who found the note under Mother Superior’s chair after the police left, followed by a statement from Sheriff Graham.

 “How does an entire forensic team miss a suicide note?” Wendy pondered aloud.

 Glass laughed. “I wondered the same thing. I also wondered how the hell Superior overdosed on meds that she took for years.”

 Wendy paused. “That…is weird.”

 She turned the page for the rest of the story and saw a strangely shot picture. She squinted a bit, and found it to be a letter.

 Wendy gasped. “Is this…”

 “Technically yeah,” Glass answered as he slowed at a stop sign. “But there is no way in hell I could actually publish it. Respect for the victim and all that. We replaced it with a photo of her.”

 Wendy nodded absently and turned on the mirror light to better illuminate the page. The letter was sprawled out, obviously hastily written. Wendy pondered if her hurried letter was written out of fear. Fear of the future in her position? Or with the community? Maybe with Tink, if she cared about her at all.

 Wendy couldn’t make out the writing after all, but she couldn’t look away from the letter.

 There was something else. She could feel it in her bones. Buzzing and begging to nestle deeper.

 Until it finds blood.

 She squinted at the letter and while the words were unclear, the penmanship was admirable with it’s curvy cursive. It reminded her of her father’s. It took years of practice to create such longhand, and usually by people who’s livelihood depended on how well they could right. Bankers, like her father, secretariws, lawyers…

 Wendy’s blood went cold.

 “Kid?”

 It found the blood. 

Wendy grabbed her bag and dumped its contents in her lap, searching hastily for the one scrap of evidence that would tie this nightmare together.

And she did.

Wrinkled under a slew of pens was Mr. Gold’s cell number on his business card.

 The l’s on the card and in the letter were the same.

 “Kid are you listening?”

 Wendy clutched the card in her hand and opened the door, causing Glass to come to a screeching halt.

 “The hell! Wendy?” he barely dodged her seatbelt hitting him in the face as she sprinted from the car.

 “Wendy? Wendy!”

 Wendy blocked him out, blocked anything out that would prevent her from getting to Mr. Gold in time.

 It was ironic really.

 The only time she ran in a panic was to evade a foe, yet for once she wasn’t running from a monster.

 She was running to one.

                                                                                 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 It was well past closing by the time she reached Gold’s shop, yet the lights were still on and the man himself was behind his desk, seeming to fill out paperwork.

 Or more suicide letters. Wendy thought bitterly.

 The door was locked, and Gold looked up when he heard someone jimmying the lock.

 Through the glass she could see his lip tug in a half smile, and she resisted throwing the nearest rock through the door.

 “A bit late, isn’t it Miss Darling?” he greeted when he let her in.

 “You did this,” Wendy seethed when he closed the door.

 “You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” he countered as he limped back to his desk.

 Wendy rushed after him and threw his business card on the glass.

 “You wrote Mother Superior’s suicide letter,” Wendy gasped. “It’s your handwriting!”

 Gold simply stared at her, brilliantly masking any fear or being caught or surprise that Wendy had put the pieces together so soon.

 “That is a very serous accusation, Miss Darling,”

 “But not untrue,” Wendy calculated. “Do not lie to me, Gold. We’ve been completely honest with each other up to this point.”

 Gold nodded in agreement. “Indeed we have,”

 “So its true then?” Wendy gulped. “You wrote her letter?”

 Gold simply stared at her, and Wendy could almost think it was Pan.

 And as Pan he would do, Gold tilted his head and chuckled, low and humorous. Dark.

 “Why?” Wendy breathed. “Why would you do something so…heinous?”

 Gold shook his head, his smirk becoming more of a tired grin.

 “A variety of reasons really. Not that her dark little secret was out, I no long had the leverage I needed to keep her in my corner. She was disposable.”

 “She was human!” Wendy yelled.

 “She,” Gold seethed, “was a vile woman who used fear to manipulate people to do her bidding.”

 “Like you?” Wendy scoffed.

 “I always give the people I deal with something in return.”

 Wendy shook her head. She couldn’t believe this. This was a nightmare. When was she going to wake up?

 “Did you kill her?” Wendy inquired.

 Gold actually scoffed, as if being accused of murder was below him.

 “I simply put everything into place. She handled the dirty bits.”

 “But the letter…”

 “Was the only way you and Sister Astrid would ever be clear.” He concluded, his tone dropping more seriously. “If her death remained labeled an accident, the eyes of the town would have stayed on you forever. They’d never trust you, never accept you because suspicion wins out every time.”

 “No,” Wendy shook her head.

 “And then of course there was Sister Astrid’s unintentional role in all of this,” Mr. Gold said in a low, almost sarcastic tone. “She would have been arrested, being the last person in her office and all,”

 “We would have helped her!”

 “And ruin yourself in the process,” Gold pointed out. “This is what is best for everyone, dearie. You’re all free now. Why not fly and leave the matter be?”

 “Because it’s still wrong!” Wendy gasped. “You meddled with evidence and put a horrible light on her death. That is how she’s going to be remembered.”

 “As she should be,” Gold growled. “That woman was no saint, and now she can receive the reputation she finally deserves.”

 “No…” Wendy gasped. This was wrong. So wrong.

 Gold sighed. “You’re a smart woman, Miss Darling. I no doubt you’ll see the benefit in this soon enough.”

 Wendy glared at him, holding back tears.

 “But you’re also a kind one,” Gold added, picking up his business phone and placing it in front of Wendy. “You have a good heart. I saw that yesterday with Miss la Bell,” he paused for a moment. “And with Belle.”

 Wendy gulped.

 “If you truly believe that revealing my folly is the right thing to do, then go ahead,” he tapped on the phone. “Expose me.”

 Wendy’s fingers flinched, itching to take the phone, call Sheriff Graham, and end this whole thing.

 “But I know you won’t do it.”

 Wendy’s hand shot back.

 “And just why do you think that?”

 That eerie smirk returned.

 “Because deep down you know I’m right. That Pan is right.”

 “Stop.”

 “And I think he’s in your bones now,” he nodded convinced. “And I think you do too.”

 “Why the hell would you say that!”

 Gold tapped on the phone again. “Because you’re not picking up the phone.”

 Wendy took in a shaky breath, willing her hand to rise.

 You’re just as filthy and selfish as he is.

 “That’s not true.”

 You're setting yourself up for a world of trouble if you stay here.

 “No I’m not.”

 This town, that…maniac you call a boyfriend, they're going to ruin you.

 “I’m not like him.” She reached for the phone but couldn’t will the nerves in her body to pick it up.

 I just want to be free.

 She was no saint.

 And next time

 No one's going to run back here to save you

 Wendy released the phone and got out of Gold’s shop as fast as she could, just missing the satisfied look on his face.

 “Fly, fly, little bird.”

 Her lungs were on fire by the time she reached her apartment, her vision blurring. By shear instinct she was able to find her own apartment.

 She didn’t feel safe until her door was closed and locked. Until she was past her bedroom. Until she was in the deep polished tub where she could blame the sickening noises that left her throat on the aging pipes.

[wickedsingularity]

Until Next Time [Chapter 11]

Banner by PhoenixAlthor @ TDA

The hand on my heart clenched painfully. I stiffened and gritted my teeth. My eyes stung and I couldn't breathe. I was there. I had reached the point where it hurt so bad I didn't know how to live for one more second.

War. We do what we can to find comfort and hope.

Remus Lupin x OC Warnings: Lemon, lemon as a coping mechanism Words: 1699

Chapter 10 | Masterlist | Chapter 12

Us

This makes it easier.

For nearly two months now, Remus and I had been sneaking off to his room after every Order meeting we had both been at and almost every time I had visited headquarters for whatever reason. I had not had the pleasure of him fucking the full moon on me again – I had visited Grimmauld Place a couple of days before the last full moon, but he had been out taking advantage of the situation to get in with a werewolf pack up in Wales, one we knew was likely to side with You-Know-Who.

The memory of how feral he had seemed and how he'd bitten me was strong in me, and I wanted so bad to experience it again I felt like humping air when I thought about it.

When had I become such a sex starving scarlet woman?

I had thought a lot about the raw attraction we felt towards each other and hadn't been able to really explain it until he straight out asked me one day in the middle of November.

Remus pulled out of me and rolled onto his side of the bed. I laid an arm above my eyes, trying to catch my breath. My mind was blissfully empty, no more thoughts about the tiring day I'd had at Azkaban, where we were in the middle of setting up the last ward. All I could feel was the empty but satisfied feeling in my entire body. Until I felt a warm, calloused hand gently moving up and down my other arm.

I discreetly lifted the arm above my eyes a fraction and looked down. This was unusually intimate of him. Yeah, we were having sex, but this was not a relationship. And that action was very relationship-like. Was this a relationship? I sighed quietly and moved both my arms up and crossed them under my head.

And as if Remus had read my mind: "What is this? Us?"

I gazed up at the ceiling for a moment before answering with the first thing that came to mind: "Sex. Good sex."

Remus chuckled. I looked at him. He had a smug expression on his face. "Good sex," he confirmed.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Lupin."

"Not possible."

A few long moments went by. We just laid there, not looking at each other, my mind analysing the past couple of months.

Good sex was an understatement. Remus knew exactly what he was doing and then some. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I hoped it didn't mean he slept around a lot, but he didn't seem like the type. I wasn't either, because my friends-with-benefits relationship with Connell aside, I had only had one proper relationship since I started at Azkaban seven years ago. No one wanted to be with the witch who worked alongside Dementors, not even for one night. My job freaked them out. They all thought I had a fetish for death and depression.

But I had managed fine on my own. Keeping to myself, channelling everything into work. Until... the war.

"An outlet," I mumbled. It was obvious. Being with Remus made me feel lighter, less chilled to the bone. Sex with him warmed me up from the inside and emptied my mind, and that made it easier to handle the fears I had repressed for years before the war started bringing them all back to the surface.

"What?"

"An outlet," I repeated. "For... everything."

Remus raised himself up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. He gazed down at me, his face grave. "An outlet," he confirmed.

It fit when one thought about most of our times together. The war had made my glass overflow. Feeling everything, truly feeling, I couldn't afford it. Remus proved to be an able outlet. All our fears and concerns and worry manifested themselves as sexual energy when we were in the same room together. We took comfort in each other. Sex was all we – anyone – could afford right now.

As if to prove my point, my brain sent a shiver through my body and my breath caught in my throat. Remus was on the alert immediately. But before he could do anything, I rose up, pushed him down and straddled him. I leaned down and kissed him hard, forcing my tongue into his mouth, while grinding my naked sweaty body against his. Needing him to harden again, needing to feel him inside me again. My breasts rubbed against his scarred chest and I ground my core back and forth over his cock.

He started growing against my slickness, and I thanked the stars he reacted so quickly. He held his cock steady and without disrupting my rhythm he entered me easily and we both gasped at the connection. I pushed down, getting him fully inside me and stayed still for a moment. Our eyes locked. His amber ones were intense and there was something wild there.

Needing friction, I raised myself up, put my hands on his chest, and felt him go even deeper when I sat down. He was so delicious like this, deep in me and his face contorted in pleasure. I started to move again, still looking into his eyes. The evidence of our previous climax made it slick and easy but didn't scratch the itch as well and I moved with more desperation.

Remus put one hand on my hips, helping me keep a more controlled rhythm, and the other hand went to my breast, massaging in time with my movements. A particularly hard squeeze made me whine and fall forwards slightly, breaking my pace. Both his hands grabbed my hips now and his mouth took the opportunity to latch onto one of my breasts, sucking hard. Then he moved back, teeth pulling at my nipple and I felt myself gush around his cock.

I let him take complete control and moved only the way he guided me. His lips caught my other breast, biting and sucking hard on it. My bundle of nerves rubbed against him from this position, and combined with every scratch of his teeth on my nipples, it sent jolts of electricity through my body. The orgasm washed over me before I realised how close it was and I wailed like a banshee. My entire body shivered and I grabbed a hold of his arms to not fall over and dug my nails into his biceps.

Through half closed eyes, I saw Remus gazing at me. He hadn't come with me like he had done earlier that night, and I looked questioningly down at him. He only smirked. He had explained about his short or non-existent refractory period close before the full moon, but it was three weeks until the next one. I licked my lips, as if I'd tasted my favourite pudding, and rode him with more fervour – wondering how many times I could come before he did. I raked my nails up and down his chest, squeezed him as tight as I could, but he would have none of that.

Instead, he put one finger on my clit, and I came again.

I'm not sure how long we were at it, but we were both drenched, and my entire body was feeling like jelly. I used my last strength and took both his hands in mine and held them above his chest. Riding with all I had left in me. He met my thrusts so hard we were lifted off the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the room, drowning out our gasps.

He was about to use his mouth on me again, but before he got that far, I leant down to give him a quick kiss and then biting down on his shoulder. Turned out he liked that as much as I liked him biting me, because he flipped us around, making me squeal. His weight pushed me down into the mattress and he thrust fast and desperate. I wrapped my legs around him and tossed my head back as he reached that spot in me. I came so hard I couldn't make a sound. Then Remus buried his face in my neck as he finally came.

My mind didn't return to earth until we were both lying side by side again, breaths slowly coming back to normal. I had that feeling in my throat as if I'd run hard in cold weather, but my thoughts were peaceful.

"An outlet," Remus said, his voice flat.

I looked at him. I couldn't read his face, so I just hummed in response. "I should get going. I need to get to sleep so I'll be able to get up in time tomorrow, a lot to do still before setting up the final ward."

Remus didn't say anything, just nodded. I rolled out of bed and got dressed, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. When I fastened my cloak, I stopped and looked down at him barely covered by the sheets we had rolled around in.

"Do you know what would happen if I let my fears get the best of me?" I asked. There was something about the way he was behaving since we came down from our highs that made me need to explain. He frowned at me and shook his head. "I'd be a target. I'd be a feast for the Dementors. I can't let myself be afraid. I need to control it. I was so good at it, but this war has... made that hard. This..." I moved my hand back and forth between us a couple of times. "Makes it easier."

For a long time, we looked at each other. I don't know if I wanted him to say anything to reassure me or comfort me, or anything. Because the flatness of his voice earlier made it feel like he wanted to end what we were doing, and that made a slightly different kind of anxiety poke at my heart.

"Until next time," he then said, the faintest of smiles on his lips.

I breathed out in relief and smiled back. "Until next time."

Chapter 10 | Masterlist | Chapter 12

Permanent tags: @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @geeksareunique @iguess-theyre-mymess @neeadinghugs @earinafae @mattmurdocksgirl @joulien @imaginesofdreams @brewsthespirit-blog @lemonlime799 @reading-in-moonlight

Tag lists are open! Just let me know if you want on or off!

[edsrich]

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 1/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs

A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 

Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.

Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.

“You seem to be going heavy on the cigarettes today,” She paused, “I mean, isn’t that your fifth one in the past half hour?”

Richie shrugged, “I like smoking.”

Beverly eyed his cigarette with her green embers, frowning. “If you carry smoking on like that daily, you’ll die.”

“Well I obviously don’t smoke this much to look badass- as much as I am, Bev.” Richie grumbled, pushing his glasses up on his face.

“You’re worrying me a lot lately, how are your parents-”

“I don’t wanna talk about them, alright? I’m fine and I’m always fine. Look, I’m just moody as fuck today and I need a few more cig’s. I’ll lighten up soon, just getting used to my man period.”

Beverly laughed a little at that, running her free hand through her short ginger curls before taking a puff of her cigarette, flicking away the excess ash onto the bricks under her.

“A man period, huh? Must sucks, I wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, it fuckin’ sucks. I piss blood and shit like that, have to shove a few tampons up-”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Beverly grins.

That simple sentence took Richie back a few years for a moment, as he remembered his old friends that he had grown apart from due to his bad habits. He sighed, thinking of Ben, Stan, Mike, Ben and... Eddie. He quickly shook away the thoughts and nodded at Bev.

“Bottoms up, princess.” Richie lifted his cigarette up with his pinky finger high and clanked it against Beverly’s, before taking a quick puff again.

Beverly smirked at Richie, before stumping her cigarette out. “That’s me done for today.”

Richie frowned and watched as the ash disintegrated. “You coulda’ gave that to me, wasting a perfectly good cig.”

“I think you’ve had one too many for today, Tozier.” Beverly winked, trying to lighten the mood with a subtle hint of sarcasm to coat her seriousness and concern.

“Gosh, Bev. Shut up- you’re not my Mom.” Richie snapped, trying not to seem too harsh but his words had a bite to them.

Beverly furrowed her eyebrows before huffing, not saying anything more for a few minutes before finally piping up again. “I’m just being your friend and caring, since no one else seems to- someone has to.”

Richie flinched at her bluntness, but knew that she was telling the truth. Richie’s habits had slowly made him unravel away from others and not become a priority on others lists. 

Even his own parents didn’t give a shit about him.

Hell, his parents were the ones who funded the cigarettes for him. Every day he’d ask either his Mom or Dad for cigarette money and without any hesitation, they’d hand over 10 dollars.

“Well shit, where would I be without you?” Richie chuckled dryly, running his fingers through his dark brown locks that reached his jawline.

Beverly smiled, “You’d be lonely and homeless, probably.”

Richie then finished his own cigarette down to the stub, crushing the leftovers under his all black converse shoes. He flipped his hair back that fell in front of his eyes and looked to Bev. 

“Do you mind walking home by yourself today? I’m gonna stay behind after school.”

Beverly snorted loudly, “You? School?” She gasped, “I’ve never heard two words in one sentence before!”

“Extra credit, some stupid shit.” Pausing before speaking up again, “I’m failing in every class and I need to try, you know?”

Richie was a good liar, a great one in fact. He’s been lying for years. “Are you okay, Richie?”/“How are you doing, Richie?” Whenever anyone asked, which would only be Beverly nowadays, he was good at covering up what was reckoning with himself. The seventeen year old boy had learnt over the years that he wouldn’t be missed if he had left the planet, possibly by one person- that being Bev. But even Bev would get over him quickly, she’d probably be able to get over her smoking addiction too. After all, it was partly his fault for bringing it back up to the surface. Bev had Bill, not to mention Ben still fawning over her.

Richie didn’t even talk to them anymore.

The only person he had was Beverly and she didn’t even need him, whereas he needed her more than anything. She was all he had and she knew that.

“Well, shit alright then. I can hang out with Bill instead.” Beverly nodded, pushing herself off the wall. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

Richie nodded, “Walk home safely.” 

Beverly smiled at him, “You have a nice night Rich.” With that, the ginger girl walked off down the street and away from the school building to which they both once sat outside of.

Richie watched her walk off, making sure she was safe whilst in his sight. A smile remained on his lips until she had vanished out of his sight, soon replaced by his natural void of emotion expression.

Richie jumps off the wall, landing on his feet and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he walks in the opposite direction and down the road.

“You fucking faggot!”

Punch, kick, punch.

“You ought’a be knocked straight.”

Eddie croaked out a strangled sob, attempting to protect himself from his usual bullies as much as he could. With his hands in front of his face and his knees tucked into his chest, cradling himself.

“Go pop some more fucking pills, maybe then you’ll overdose and the world will have one less faggot breathing.”

With that, Eddie’s box of tablets were quickly scattered against the concrete with the force of a shoe kicking the box open. Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked as the rainbows of the variety of pills for his health were disbanded elsewhere.

“Hey-”

Before Eddie could try and plead for the bullies to stop, a stomp to his head knocked him out clean.

“Eddie? Oh fuck, not again.” A voice muttered out, groaning almost.

Eddie could barely see, his eyes seemed to be glued shut. However, he could feel the immense pain that pulsed on his skin, possibly new bruises forming.

“Eddie, I don’t wanna do the water thing again, wake up dude.”

Eddie’s eyes cracked open in little slits, seeing a buff form kneeling next to him.

“Mike?”

Mike smiled sadly, chuckling. “You got yourself into another one of these situations again?”

Eddie sat up with the help from his friend, cracking his neck and sighing. “By coming out as gay, then yeah. I suppose so.”

Mike frowned at Eddie’s words, patting his back to somehow comfort the fragile boy, “The best thing you could’ve done was come out Eddie. You’re so brave and despite knowing how awful the kids are at school, you still did it.”

“But if I wasn’t gay in the first place then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.” Eddie spat, biting his words at himself.

Ever since Eddie came out to friends and family about his sexuality, he already regretted it the next day. His mother had taken him to several councillors about ‘mental health problems’, his friends distanced themselves from certain activities with him and bullying was never so brutal.

Mike grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, “I don’t wanna hear you say shit like that, Eddie. You’re perfect the way you are, your sexuality doesn’t define you.”

Eddie glanced at Mike and sighed sadly but nodded anyway, “Thank you.”

Mike gave a comforting smile and ruffled up Eddie’s hair before collecting the boys pills for him, grabbing the small blue container and placing them all in the right places as Eddie sat and watched.

Mike eventually handed the full container back to Eddie and Eddie quietly put the blue box in his fanny pack.

“You know, if they are gazebos, then why do you still take them?” Mike asked in genuine curiosity.

“Its just a routine, something I feel the need to do...” Eddie trailed off before shrugging, “I don’t know.”

Mike sighed, holding his hand out for Eddie to take which he gladly took. Mike pulled him up to his feet for support, patting off any dirt that remained on the boys attire.

“Thanks Mike, I uh- I should get going now.”

Mike nodded, smiling. “Say hi to the other guys for me, I barely see them anymore with work. It was great seeing you again, and hey- don’t you ever feel ashamed of yourself Kaspbrak.” Mike paused, before waving his hand. “Adios.”

Eddie waved timidly, watching Mike rushing off with a sack hanging over his bag, possibly from him doing a job.

“Bye.” Eddie whispered, his hand grabbing his fanny pack for emotional support.

A few days later, Richie sat in class with several others around him, familiar people from his past included.

Richie was no longer the cocky trashmouth that wouldn’t be afraid to be the class clown, no. He was a different person due to all of the changes in his life. He’d act like himself around Bev and only Bev, No one ever saw the old Richie anymore, he was dead and gone.

Richie slowly became irritated at the sounds around the classroom, for example. Some random kid thought it was fucking amazing and decided to piss the teacher off badly, now he was lecturing the whole class about something he couldn’t give two shits about. Another kid was tapping his pencil against his desk in an uneven rhythm and another kid was throwing spit balls around the class.

He needed to get away from here, now.

Richie waited for the teacher to turn around and start scribbling his chalk against the board angrily, before he slid up- despite the strange looks he received, he simply walked out without a care in the world.

Yet, no one even cared that he left.

The teacher looked to his side, seeing Richie’s figure fade out into the hallway and he shook his head, scribbling more.

“Now kids, that’s a perfect example of a person you shouldn’t be.” He of course, was talking about Richie.

Richie ignored his comment; speeding down the hall whilst his feet echoed down the empty hall, making their way towards the steps in order to reach his destination.

He fidgeted with his keys in his pocket, letting a sigh racket from his lips, with his feet making their way up towards the roof of the school, which was nothing out of the norm for Richie. He and Bev would smoke here all the time, only today however was different.

He wanted to do more than smoke himself to death today.

Eddie whimpered, being flung into the dark navy lockers- his temple smacking against the cooling surface which caused him to collapse to the ground. He felt the blood trickling down his nose, to which he raised his sleeve and held it against the liquid to stop it from trickling further. A hiss left his lips as his nose stung and tingled his brain senses.

“Get the fuck up, faggot.” One of his bullies hissed. 

Eddie tried to do as he was told, trying to grab onto the locker to hoist himself up- but to no avail, Henry only kicked him back down.

Eddie let out a pained yelp, falling on his face to further make his nose bleed more. His head shook with pain due to his forming headache and the overwhelming situation.

“Have a dashing weekend, twink.” His new found bully friend, spat down at Eddie before another laughed, pushing him along to leave elsewhere.

Eddie glared at their passing figures, wiping away the blood that dripped onto the floor below. Eddie couldn’t help but glance around at the small attention the scene received. Everyone was watching, but none were helping. Even Bill, who watched in nothing but sympathy.

“Shows over.” Eddie whispered harshly, grasping the locker to help him to his feet.

“E-Eddie-”

“No Bill, fuck off.” Eddie hissed, tears brimming his water line with his fingers jittering as he brought his inhaler to his lips, taking a strong puff.

“Eddie, i’m-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you’re not sorry and you’re not my friend. I stick up for you every time, every fucking time, this happens daily and not once you help.”

“E-Eddie, stop. I just...”

“You just what? You’re scared? Big Bill is scared?” Eddie started to cause a scene, his voice raising by every passing second.

Bill’s eyes were wide in shock at how Eddie was talking to him, but he remained silent.

“You’re not my fucking friend. Are you homophobic too, is that it?” Eddie knew he was over reacting, but he didn’t care. “Is that why you don’t help me, huh? You just watch?”

Bill’s eyes were wide in not only shock now, but hurt. “Y-You think I’m h..homophobic?”

“Well why else, Bill? Why else would you just leave me there?!” Eddie’s voice raised, his hand shaking with the light blue inhaler tight in his fist. 

Bill shook his head, “I..I’ll see you on Monday Eddie.” With that, Bill rushed off with his head low.

People stared at Eddie with a mixture of disgust and of pity, both of which he hated. He hated it when others pitied him or were disgusted of him. Eddie looked around, realising these looks and he quickly grabbed his bag from the floor and pushed through the small crowd, holding back his tears and rushing off down the corridor, people watched him go but didn’t offer a shoulder to cry on.

With each step Eddie took, he felt more bruises form on his arms and shoulders and anywhere else he was kicked or punch by his bullies. This wouldn’t happen much anymore hopefully.

Eddie rushed up the steps to the school, gripping the handle rail with his clammy hands. His head swung full of anxiety and anger, swirling and attacking at his emotions over and over again. He made it to the second floor of his school, before swinging himself up the next flight of stairs to ramble over. His destination was the roof.

He needed everything to stop.

His breaths only became heavier as he shoved open the door that was now in front of him after climbing the mountain of stairs. The door made a large creak throughout the silent air, causing a disturbance to perhaps anyone up here. However, no one was. It was empty.

That was perfect for Eddie.

Eddie closed the door, before walking out across the abandoned roof which was full of dead potted plants and green gardens that had failed. He walked around the entrance to the other side of the roof, looking at his feet whilst he did so.

Was he really about to do this?

Eddie sighed shakily, tilting his head up to look ahead of him- only for him to see another shadow standing around the next corner. Eddie tilted his head in confusion before turning around the small box that belonged to the fire escape entrance to cover it up from any rain or harsh weather. 

Eddie gasped, begging his eyes to deceive him. A tall lanky figure was stood at the edge of the rooftop with his toes hanging off. A mere cigarette between the index finger and the middle finger, whilst Eddie held his inhaler.

“Richie?!”

The figure almost fell forward whilst stood at the edge in complete shock, looking back with those large coke bottle glasses. Him almost falling caused Eddie to rush forward with a hand out for Richie to grab.

“Eds?”

Eddie felt his chest tighten at the nickname he had not heard in several years, Eddie felt water leak from his eyes at the nostalgia and memories of the two old friends flooded back as his emotions poured out. His head was tilted in confusion and shock to see Eddie, just as much as Eddie was to see Richie. The two were complete polar opposites now. Eddie raised his hand higher for Richie to take, saying no words as none would form due to his throat becoming dry as realisation dawned upon him.

Both Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier had came to the rooftop to kill themselves on this late Friday afternoon.

[apocalypto12related]

Do all of them!

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?

Ye! Sammy! @deziac

2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?

Um... My family, probably, and no.

3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”

Kitty! I love kitties!

4: what’s something you really want right now?

an apartment. on a less serious side, um, glasses???

5: are you afraid of falling in love?

Nope! I already have and since we’re poly im sure i will again owo

6: do you like the beach?

so/so. depends on my mood.

7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?

um... a pull out sofa, does that count? i have a hard time sleeping unless i can fully lie down.

8: what’s the background on your cell?

my old phone was tony my new phone is space. not sure what it’ll be soon. >w>;; considering i need to redownload all the stuff i got off tumblr. :’( i lost all my snapchat stuff, but i moved all of izaya to my computer so that’s fine.

9: name the last four beds you were sat on?

what??? O_o; um... a homeless shelter’s bed and other than that they were all my own??? (not counting the “bed” made of sheets at the one place.)

10: do you like your phone?

i just got a new one!! uwu It has 32GB with it’s own internal storage and I have a 32GB sd card. nwn;; So I have a lot of space~! plus it has a fingerprint sensor and im in love with unlocking it like that owo

11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?

prolly not, but when do they?

12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?

sammy! bc we both got new phhones!

13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?

i heard poodles have bad temperaments!! idk about rottweilers!! whichever one is nicer??/

14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?

emotional!! physical heals!! short time span for pain! emotional might not go away!

15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?

DONt mmake me chosoelk??! i love both!!! i lovemy fluffy butts and i went to the met in new york!!! it was so cool!!! swords!! armor!! egypt!! aahhhh!!! i cant choose!!

16: are you tired?

im always tired!!!

17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?

um... well it’s sammy

so uh, ten years in march owo (technically december was the first time we met!! but we count it as march since that’s when he started talking rly)

18: are they a relative?

no!!

19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?

it depends on if they changed their personality!! if not then no!! i mean i did get back with sammy but yknow we just count that as a break since we did actually get back together lmao

20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?

this morning!! she is at work so she’s not too talkative rn!

21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?

we’re fine with what we’re at!! i don’t need to marry her to make it ‘official’!! we’ve lasted almost 9 years and through some big hardships!! both of us unmedicated and dealing with new medication changes, so i think we’re fine!!

22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

of course!! :P

23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?

two!! my blue sylveon bracelet (i love sylveon, i would wear umbreon but i think i packed it!!!) and my pride rainbow bracelet! i took them off when we were looking for a shelter bc i was scared we’d get denied if they saw obvious gay signs :(

24: is there a certain quote you live by?

not directly!! something along the lines of that there is no set path in life you have to choose which ways you want to twist and turn and they’ll lead you onto new and bigger things.

25: what’s on your mind?

music! stuff for my phone! i have a lot of stuff i need to add to eeet!! it’s only a day oolllddd.

26: do you have any tattoos?

yes! it’s for my kitty who passed away! Her name was luna. I’m sure i’ve posted a picture somewhere.

27: what is your favorite color?

#00C5FF

28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?

prolly tonight. owo

29: who are you texting?

Sammy owo

30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?

probably?? lol what.

31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?

YES ACTUALLY D: idk if it happened any other time, but when we got into the car accident when I told our one friend we were joking about her coming up and hanging with us all my brain said was ‘You shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.’ and again when we went out to the car and it was pretty heavy snow fall. I was like ‘I shouldn’t go.’ my problem with that one was I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t think ‘we shouldn’t go’. but... what can you do now?

32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

um. i don’t think i have a super close opposite sex friend. closest would probably be @h0bsyrup

33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?

I’m sure Sammy does. >w> I’m not sure otherwise. My followers don’t tell me that stuff.

34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?

Yes omg. Sammy was staring me in the eyes the other day and was like ‘your eyes are pretty’ and i’m like ‘omfg shut up >//

35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?

if they’re not dating then she’s gonna punch their lights out, so i don’t have to worry.

36: were you single on valentines day?

November 24th, 2008 is when I started dating Sammy. You tell me.

37: are you friends with the last person you kissed?

... of course?? wtf is with these kiss questions.

38: what do your friends call you?

Kiki :D

39: has anyone upset you in the last week?

lil bit.

40: have you ever cried over a text?

Um... probably. I can’t remember.

41: where’s your last bruise located?

omg... um i guess undermy belly button is the latest bruise??? i have a lot atm from surgery and being motionless for four days!!

42: what is it from?

Sammy actually like harshly pushed on that area. like when you go to land somewhere with your full weight then you go ‘oh fuck’ yeah.

43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?

um... recently??? but i guess not as bad as with my mom.

44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?

Sammy owo

45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?

Nah.

46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?

No.my hair style is like 99% bun.

47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?

i dont follow trends i set them.

48: do you make supper for your family?

not recently but i would for sammy and i usually

49: does your bedroom have a door?

i don’t have a “bedroom” atm e.e

50: top 3 web-pages?

tambo.c0m (tumblr), archiveofourown.org (ao3), youtube.com (the three i use the most anyway)

51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?

Sammy. xD at least food shopping.

52: does anything on your body hurt?

Abdomen. (:

53: are goodbyes hard for you?

it depends. if it’s unnecessary then prolly. if they’ve fucked me over idc. (i.e. my family trying to replace my mom’s abusiveness, fuck them.)

54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?

prolly water owo

55: how is your hair?

it’s feeling fine, thank you for asking!

56: what do you usually do first in the morning?

it depends! if it’s my “morning” i wake up and usually bathroom.

57: do you think two people can last forever?

sure but it takes work. it’s not gonna be perfect 24/7 without communication or compromise.

58: think back to january 2007, were you single?

ye. omfg why would you give me nightmares. that’s when i started the rping side of myspce and met that douche wesley. his lying ass made me start self harming. fuck him.

59: green or purple grapes?

i don’t eat grapes .w.;;

60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?

sometime in the future! prolly sammy!

61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

in an apartment. >w> or at the pompeii exhibit!!!

62: when will be the next time you text someone?

possibly today

63: where will you be 5 hours from now?

lying in bed. :D

64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.

struggling to be alive. (eating chocolate chip muffins)

65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?

oh god. w8 no. i didn’t like anyone yet. that started like october or shit. ugh my ex. he became an ass. (aside from sammy obvs)

66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?

sammy!!

67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?

um... i don’t think so. i think we were both too tired and stressed. we didn’t get into bed until like 1 and the shelter has us be out of beds by 8:30 x3x;

68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

um... ‘i should go back to sleep’ after waking up a third time and distracting myself with the phone

69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

yeah,but at least i tried.

70: how many windows are open on your computer?

it’s not *my* computer, so it doesn’t count! ;D (8 but im downloading music stfu)

71: how many fingers do you have?

i have 10. my one pinky counts as a half finger sometimes though. i broke it and bc i didnt have insurance i never went to a doctor to get it fully take care of so it healed up all wrong.

72: what is your ringtone?

default at the moment!

73: how old will you be in 5 months?

oh fuck i’ll be 24. man if you asked me that back in june i’d be like ‘still 23 (;’ but no. my bday is december

74: where is your mum right now?

She passed away. :/

75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?

I realize that as much as I wanted to believe it was love, it never fully blossomed into that until I was with Sammy. I don’t think I’ve truly ever gotten to love anyone else, but that’s okay.

76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?

of course owo sammy and i are hella gay don’t u know.

77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

i believe so owo we just don’t talk as much bc im a lazy sack of shit.

78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?

fuck. i think i had a minor crush on some dude who also liked green day but never fuckin talked to me so i never bothered. that might’ve also technically been when i started liking wesley. does billie joe from green day count?

79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?

personally? uh.... i’m not totally sure o-o; fuck me man.

80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?

probably wait yes. sammy. spooning is our fave position.

81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?

e.e no one that wasn’t a celebrity. 

82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?

no bc shelter e.e

83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?

:P i talk to them everyday.

84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?

i wouldn’t get drunk! i wouldn’t scream at ppl! that’s rude! ppl usually can’t even hear you when you yell at the window! we hear ‘whoosh’ with your voice in the middle’

85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?

i would be concerned since she’s said she doesn’t like them!!

86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?

um... oh! a conversation started and a lil girl asked if we were in a certain theatre and I said ‘no we were in theatre blah’ so I asked what they went and saw. She said “Wonder Woman” “hey we just came out of that, too!” :P

87: who was your last received call from?

.3.; sammy

88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?

i-i’m torn??? i needm oney but poor butter-san... ;____;

89: what is something you wish you had more of?

money. clothes maybe

90: have you ever trusted someone too much?

yeah. lmao.

91: do you sleep with your window open?

i usually do! esp in the winter/summer! need air and love cold!

92: do you get along with girls?

ye!

93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?

no. owo

94: does sex mean love?

no! sex is something that can bring someone closer, but it is not necessary for a relationship! 

95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?

>3>;;; again, no.

96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?

owo; indirectly. i shared a drink with someone who had one. xD

97: did you sleep alone this week?

not this week! :D last week. ;~; at the hospital.

98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?

yes. >3>

99: do you believe in love at first sight?

no!!! that’s not love!! you might end up loving them but you can’t love someone unless you know them!! :c otherwise it’ll lead to some bad decisions!! D:

100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?

OwO Sammy I think.

[inspirationallyinsane]

November 28 2019

Tumblr! Hi. It has been too long since I have written, and much has changed. I figured today might be a good day for an update considering it is a holiday and also I had the day off work :) I quit my job at Chase because fuck that place. Um no not really but I was really unhappy there and I didn't get along with my coworkers and my manager was a mysoginistic asshole. It wasn't a great environment. I was up for promotion there but Skyler told me I would have to wait until January to get it and I am absolutely not that patient. Especially when, once again, I am the only banker in my branch. I was doing the job of the RB without having the proper compensation or title. They sent me all the way to Phoenix, AZ to get training so I could be put in the position faster and then I'm told to wait months? I don't think so. If that were the case I should have waited to do the training so I could do it in Oregon. It was incredibly irritating. And everyone else quit. All the tellers quit and both the other bankers quit. Obviously it wasn't a good environment for anyone. At the end, for a full month before I quit, it was just me, the manager, and the teller manager. Unacceptable. I'm not having it. I don't understand why my manager didn't hire people faster. As soon as I gave my two weeks he was suddenly able to hire 3 people. In one week. Hmmmmm. Seems like it could've been done sooner then. Right? Oh well. Chase was an experience. I learned more about what I don't want from a job. Onward and upward. Of course, I couldn't quit without having another job lined up. I applied for a few jobs back in September. I heard back about a position I thought in no way would I ever get. Although I also heard back about a branch manager position which I am also completely unqualified for. So. It's an employee's market. Anyway. I applied for a Licensed Relationship Manager position at Key Bank. Basically in the position you hand small investment portfolios and client's banking needs. A sort of introduction into being an FA while still working mainly with bank products. However, it does mean that the person in that position gets fully licensed. Umm so I did a phone interview while I was in phoenix and as soon as I got back they brought me in for an interview with the branch manager. Next day I get a call saying they want to give me the job. I got a huge pay increase, and will get another one once I finish my licensing. The incentive pay will be similar to what I would have gotten as an RB at Chase, and??? To get licensed and be working with portfolios at 21?? Awesome. I was so hyped. I really couldn't believe that I got the job. It was definitely a stressful transition. The position is in Medford and I didn't want to commute so we had to move. Finding a decent place in Medford for a decent price is ridiculous. I ended up finding a good place albeit a little expensive. I can definitely afford it with the raise and all but. Don't like how much the rent is. It is super nice though. Um it is brand new, no one has ever lived here before. And all the appliances are new and modern. Real hardwood floors (although it is light wood and I do prefer darker wood). The bedrooms are a little small but overall it is much larger than the other house. It has an open layout with lots of windows and natural light. I have an enormous bathroom (two sinks!!!) and a huge walk-in closet that I absolutely adore. I mean. I've never had a closet like this. It's my dream. And so far it has been a great place. We'll see how I feel after paying rent for the first time on 12/1 but. I actually got to unpack everything and there's only like two more boxes. It was a bit of a pain to get here. Trent and I had to work out a situation where he could come with me and that took a lot of conversations and arguments but we made it here together. Which is cool. And then obviously all the packing and planning and preparing?? Stressful. We did get to have movers, so moving the furniture wasn't as much of an issue. And!!! I got to have a ton of old stuff we didn't want taken to goodwill so no more useless shit around the house. Love that. So. It all worked out. Starting a new job is always rough for me. My new manager did lie to me a little bit about the training program. In the interview I asked what it would be like starting and she told me directly that I would be working with customers on my first day. Which turned out to just be a flagrant lie. I was in teller training for my first two weeks. Two weeks. Teller. Wtf. No. So I finished all the online stuff on my first day and then just sat and read the NYT for two weeks. Literally. Except for one call every day from 11:00-12:30. In which I sat and half listened, and mostly read the NYT. I did enjoy reading though. I read all of the ethicist articles and went back through 2013 on the social q's articles. I think that I enjoyed social q's more, but probably just because I disagree with so many things the ethicist says. Also?? The ethicist acts more like an advice columnist (like social q's) whereas he is supposed to be talking about the ethics of the given situation. Not what you should do for the best outcome for you, but what the ethical ramifications/solutions would be. So. Um but I learned a lot and was thoroughly entertained by the utter nonsense people write in. People are wild. I must tell you. But I was still bored and felt tortured. Next week I have to drive up to Portland for the entire week (Mon-Fri) and do my banker training. So dumb. The other day I full ass opened an account (although I guess I wasn't supposed to) and it went totally fine. Like obviously I know what I'm doing. I don't need to learn the products or the system because I'm actually good enough at my job to do it without knowing every detail. I'm not going to memorize the products here because I just end up share, show, and pointing anyway. Like the customer will listen to you yap for about 2 seconds but if you show them a pretty screen that they can look at they will pay more attention. Gonna bring up the product on key.com anyway. So what's the point? I am excited to go to Portland though. I like Portland and I'm staying in a nice hotel and I get to drive instead of fly. And I get to see Jonno which is awesome cuz I haven't seen him in so long. It'll be nice to have a break from my life here I think. I just gets boring and overwhelming. Which you wouldn't think could happen simultaneously, but it can. Ummm what else? The people I work with here are much better than at Chase. So far. The branch is only women, which I love. And they are all relatively nice ladies. A little gossipy for my taste, not so into that. I think it's mostly just the manager though. She lovessss me. I do not know why but she thinks I am God's gift. I mean I knew she felt that way after the interview but she will tell me anything and really lets me do whatever I want. It's fantastic. I can't speak to how competent she is but honestly whatever. As long as it doesn't affect my numbers I don't care. It's not like she's a Nate; throwing tantrums in the office and yelling at customers. Asking me to do her job. Disappearing for hours with no explanation and then acting like nothing happened. Falling asleep at lunch and not coming back without calling or anything. Lmao. After a Nate, I think I could handle a slightly lacking manager. Key Bank is a lot more like US Bank than Chase. There isn't really a dress code and everything is much more casual. The company culture is more diverse and less forced. The training at Chase was much better, not that I needed it in that situation either, but at least the trainers were engaging and interesting. At both Key and US the trainers just blab at you and don't really expect participation. I was kinda interested in being a trainer at Chase cuz they're really cool and they get paid a lot and their lives seem awesome but I would never want to do it anywhere else. Anyway. I don't know. I guess that is the biggest update. Um I also cut all my hair off. I was tired of my look and I wanted a change. So I cut it off and dyed it black. I've always wanted to. I love it. I think it is much more me. I'll post pictures later. My stylist is really cool too. I've never enjoyed going to the salon because the stylists are so chatty and I normally hate them but this is one is really cool. We have a lot in common and she's around my age. So. I'm actually excited to go just to see her. Haha. I don't know. So many changes and yet I don't really feel like anything has changed. I've asked for more changes, I need more changes, but there is only so much I can do myself. I'm a weak person. I don't really know what to say. I have been having a lot of nightmares recently. Sleep has not been good. Which makes life hard for sure. I have nightmares pretty frequently, but more so in the winter than any other time of year. Awful, horrible, terrifying nightmares. Where I wake up and I'm anxious and sad all day. It sucks. I become afraid to sleep. Oddly, it is only night time sleeping when it happens. Because like if I sleep after work or like today, I nap during the day, I don't have the nightmares. It's strange. I wonder why that happens. I guess that's really all. I should write more but my life is boring now and I'm boring now and it just doesn't seem worth much to write about me and what's going on anymore. Recently Jonno asked me what I've been writing and like on a general whole?? Absolutely nothing. I write little poems about this and that here and there but nothing big or important or inspiring. I'm lame, I'm boring. I hung out with Zach the other day for the first time in a while and I felt out of place. My life isn't how it was before. Full of excitement and adventure and intrigue. Even though I was working at a bank and I was working hard I still had interesting things happen and interesting conversations. I wrote so much more when I was having inspiring experiences. Going through my boxes of stuff I found a shitload of poems I wrote at US Bank. Notebooks full. I would write at work. I would write and draw and now? Like yea I read the NYT but I don't produce anything that's my own. It's so much harder now. I have no ideas. That makes me kinda sad. And Trent is just like, if you want to write more, write more. I guess it's not that simple for me. Or maybe it is and I'm just a dumbass who has issues starting things. It is hard to write/say words when you have none left in your head. I don't know. Oh well. Til next time, Tumblr. I hope all my readers are well. If anyone still reads this lol Happy Thanksgiving.