#so I tried to message someone saying I’d be running late

[charlataninred]

GODS i just had the most stressful dream

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Meeting Mick

In the centre of London, a 22-year-old junior office clerk named Gareth found himself trawling through his email inbox once again. For such a young lad, he was already fatigued with the tediousness of routine.

He had been conventional all his life, descending from a lineage of monotony. His father was an accountant who was coming up to retirement - a greyish man who wore greyish suits, his grandfather had been an accountant and he was pretty sure his great grandfather had also been in the profession. “It’s in our DNA, numbers run in our blood,” the words of his dad would echo around his head.

As a teenager, Gareth tried to rebel, well he put a bit of effort in to trying to rebel. First of all he let his hair grow, then he got a number 2 at the barbers. He bought a pair of DMs with some of his savings but never wore them for fear of what his mother and father might say. Once he came home ten minutes late for dinner, which was enough for his father to take him on one side and lecture him on the importance of timekeeping.

Anyway, let's get back to the present. Gareth got home early evening after another dull day in the office. He prepared a nice healthy meal of grilled salmon and steamed vegetables. After washing up, he decided to check his social media feeds, not that he was a prolific user of social networks, but at least they were a doorway to 'other worlds' that offered some escape.

As he was scrolling through Tumblr one profile in particular caught his attention. The profile belonged to someone calling himself 'Mick', an older man who proudly identified as a Skinhead Boss.

Gareth just stared at the profile picture; he studied it from top to bottom; his overarching thought was that this was an older guy who didn't give a f**k. He lost himself staring at the shiny black boots, which contrasted with the white laces and the arms covered in tattoos. Gareth then clicked on the profile and immediately pressed the 'follow' button.

He scrolled through Mick's blog and found himself getting more and more aroused at the pictures, which included from videos of lads getting their heads shaved, pictures of skinheads in full skinhead gear, groups of skinheads drinking and even photos of skins getting pierced and tattooed. The posts included many skinhead transformation stories as well as a few articles about skinhead culture, which Gareth read with interest.

Gareth really wanted to message Mick, and he pointed the cursor but kept hesitating because, to be honest, he felt a bit stupid. The voices in his head told him not to bother, Mick is a hard, tattooed skinhead and why would he want to chat with someone as boring and vanilla as you, Gareth?

After deliberating for many minutes whilst continuing to look over Mick's blog, he managed to silence the voices momentarily finding the resolve to send a message. He clicked on the icon and noticed the green dot, so Mick was probably online. After a lot of thought he decided to keep the first message short, "hey there, love the blog, love the gear," and pressed the send icon. No, he thought in a moment of regret and as the voices reasserted themselves, why did I type that? After a few minutes, and much to Gareth's surprise, the number 1 appeared on the messages side-menu. Expecting a "get lost" or "Eff off back to your boring, mundane life," he clicked to see what the reply was.

“Oi oi m8 thx. I didn’t think I’d be your type. Just seen your profile pic you look like just a conventional clean-cut lad." Reading this, Gareth was rock hard. He’d never spoken to a skinhead before and the thought of chatting with one was already driving him crazy. He thought very carefully about what to type next. “Ha ha, well yes, but skinheads - they're something else,” and he pressed send. Mick replied straight away “Thanks. I know you’d look good with your head shaved, wearing a nice tight pair of bleachers and all booted up lad.”

Gareth had often wondered what his life would be like if he had taken a different path maybe as a tradesman or a workie, even a punk or skinhead but it would never work, plus what would his parents and friends say. He quickly typed a reply, “Ah, I’d love to but I don’t think I could - I’d be a terrible skinhead,” and clicked on the send icon.

Gareth was starting to feel stupid again for initiating the conversation with Mick - but before he cold wallow in his foolishness he received another message, which had a much firmer tone to it “Listen lad, you WILL make a perfect skinhead. I CAN make it happen m8. I'll be in the White Hart pub on Grange Road at tonight 8 - be on time. If not, we won't chat again. It's a one time offer."

Having read the message, Gareth noticed the green light disappear - Mick must have signed out.

Gareth didn’t know what to do. This skinhead he’d spoken to for all of five minutes was willing to take him 'under his wing' and make all his dreams come true. Was this a set-up? Was it all one big joke? Was he being foolish turning up in a pub some stranger had mentioned

In that moment Gareth was 'paralysed' Should he carry on as Mr Conventional or take this opportunity to escape the monotony and drudgery of routine? Well there was only one way to find out.

After nearly an hour of procrastination he decided it was worth the risk and he would go and meet Mick. After all nothing was going to happen in pub full of customers? With a mix of excitement and apprehension, Gareth put on a pair of jeans, a plan blue t-shirt and a his coat. He opened Google Maps and searched for The White Hart and followed the directions.

After a twenty minute bus ride and ten minute walk he arrived at The White Hart. He paused for a moment. This looked like any other pub he'd seen in the city. Was he really going to enter a pub frequented by skinheads? Was he about to meet the man he'd been messaging on Tumblr? He was about to discover that this pub, adorned with memorabilia reflecting the skinhead subculture, would become the backdrop for his transformation.

He walked through the double doors and entered the tap room. He was immediately met by the sight of three skinheads standing at the bar. He checked them out; they all had shaved heads, some dressed in green or black bomber jackets, some just in t-shirts or Fred Perry polos and wearing skinhead boots; some black some red/brown.

Standing for a moment, just inside the doors (close enough to make a quick retreat should it be necessary), he took in the atmosphere. He looked around the room, trying not to catch anyone's attention. However, a few of the skins had noticed the new lad enter. Gareth was aware of several faces looking in his director, some seeming to sneer at him in contempt. He imagined they were thinking "what are you doing in our place?" After all he was a normal looking, average 22 year old in the middle of a pub occupied by tattooed, pierced, and booted skinheads.

Gareth got a sense that tension was building, but at the same time he was very aroused. He'd never been so close to one skinhead, let alone a pub full of pretty hot looking skins. He glanced at his watch - it was almost 8 o'clock - so finding Mick was his priority.

Gareth was feeling intimidated by the many eyes focussed on him. Believing Mick would be somewhere in the pub meant he was able to dig deep and find the courage not to run out through the door through which he entered. As he walked around, he noticed a skinhead standing at the bar smoking a cigarette. He always thought that smoking was banned indoors - and that included pubs - but this skinhead didn't seem to care. "You look out of place my lad - don't think you want to be in here!" he said taking the cig out of his mouth.

"Well, erm, I, I'm supposed to be meeting someone here." Gareth stuttered a reply taking in the sight in front of him.

"Oh, is that so?" The skinhead started to smile. "And who is this person you're supposed to be meeting or do you just like being in a room filled with skinheads?"

Gareth was getting even more aroused. "No, erm Mick," he initially replied meekly, then getting his confidence back, "he's called Mick".

Suddenly Gareth heard a booming voice to his right, which he knew was aimed at him. “Boy, I've been waiting."

Gareth headed over to where the voice originated, very aware that the skinhead he'd just been talking to was still staring at him as he walked away.

"Good job you turned up lad." Gareth was mesmerised at seeing Mick in person - as if in a trance, he walked towards the man that would permanently change his life. With each step forward, he took in Mick's weathered face, shaved head, tattooed arms and, holding a metal baseball bat in his left hand. "Boy, I thought you might chicken out." Finally standing next to Mick, he laughed nervously; he actually was scared-stiff but at the same time he was so turned on by this older skinhead. “You wanna be a proper skinhead - just like ALL the lads around you, don’t you?"

Gareth turned around and looked around the pub - no one was staring at him now. Everywhere he turned he saw skinheads laughing, chatting, getting the beers in and even playing pool - it was the camaraderie that caught his attention.

All his life he'd been a 'lost sheep'; he'd been desperate for the kind of kinship he was witnessing. Yes this is what he wanted, and he would do whatever it takes to be accepted. He turned back to Mick, and more certain than he'd been about anything in his life, "Yes, YES, I want to be a skinhead."

"Good lad," Mick cracked a smile for the first time since they'd met in person. "I can make it come true boy. First, I should warn you that once you say yes, there’s no going back. So, you're absolutely sure about this?”

Gareth had never been more certain in his life, oh and had never felt like this before (not to mention the forming bulge that was hard to miss). “Yes, I really want this”.

Mick was relieved, he made it a mission to bring new lads into the skinhead world “good choice, I’ll make a proper skinhead out of you boy. When I'm done with you, you'll be a proud skinhead, following the skinhead code.” Gareth nearly erupted in his trousers, he couldn’t believe this was happening. Right seat yourself down, I'll get the beers in an we'll talk about your skinhead transformation.

In a matter of minutes, Mick returned accompanied by two other skinheads who sat down alongside Gareth. "This is Charlie and this is his boi Chris. Chris once had a boring life - he was a going to be a lawyer but he hated his life. He met first Charlie on Grindr and now they're inseparable; Chris now works for the council in the cleansing department. Lads, this is Gareth," he said, nodding in Gareth's direction."

Gareth nervously picked up his glass that had been put in front of him and took a big gulp of the beer. One gulp turned into two, three, four and in no time, he'd almost finished his pint. In doing so he'd plucked up the courage to initiate a conversation about what life would be like as a skinhead.

Mick was about to start waxing lyrical about his life when Charlie jumped in, having just finished his pint, "tell the lad how long you've been a skinhead Mick," turning to Gareth, "Mick also knows what it means to be a skin and how we watch out for one another. C'mon Chris let's get the next round in."

As they chatted over three more pints Mick regaled his life experiences and the subculture he had embraced since he started secondary school. He shared stories of camaraderie, rebellion, and talked affectionately about the unique sense of identity that exists within the skinhead community. Despite the age gap, a connection had formed between the two. Mick decided it was time to begin Gareth's transformation. "Right lad, follow me."

Mick put on what Gareth would learn is his black Harrington, he picked up his baseball bat and headed through a set of double doors. Gareth followed a few paces behind Mick heading down a short dimly lit corridor.

They walked through the door and entered a room with black and white tiles on the floor, three sides of the room had walls covered in pictures of skinheads, the other wall was simply a floor to ceiling mirror. In the middle of the room was a barber's chair.

"Right lad, take your top off"

Without a second thought Gareth complied. "Get in the chair." It was an order, not a request, which had to be obeyed. Gareth was about to take the first step and most symbolic stage his transformation to a skinhead.

Sitting in the old barber's chair, Gaz could only watch as Mick walked over to the shelf and picked up a set of clippers. Mick removed the guard that was covering the cutting end and turned to Gareth, ""this is it lad; in a few minutes Gareth will be gone. I'm going to transform you into Gaz - my Skinhead boi."

With that Mick pressed the on button on the side of the clippers; immediately he heard the familiar 'clack' sound echo around the room. Mick pressed the clippers into the nape and worked his way up the lad's head. With a deliberate slowness, Gareth's hair was stripped away. With each stroke, inches of hair fell on his chest and on the floor around the chair until it was all gone.

Gareth was more turned on than he'd been; at any time in his life. Nothing he'd done in his 22 years to date had resulted in the mild sweating, butterflies and raised heart-rate that he was experiencing as he stared into the mirror watching this tattooed thug denuding his head.

Mick could tell Gaz was enjoying the experience as he heard a little pleasure moan escape from his mouth. He ran the clippers over Gaz's head at least three times, ensuring there was only stubble left. Mick noticed Gaz staring in the mirror - it wasn't all he noticed. "Like what you see boi?"

Gareth simply nodded - his brain simply couldn't process the combination of his feelings and the sight of his shaved head in the mirror. He was about to touch his head when Mick interrupted, "No you don't boi. I'll tell you when you can touch your head."

Mick then walked over to the sink and turned on the hot tap. When the water was steaming hot, he grabbed a towel and wet it thoroughly. He squeezed the towel removing the excess water and placed the very towel on Gaz's head; leaving it for a few minutes.

This gave him time to grab a can of shaving foam. He completely covered his boi's head in foam. He grabbed a new Mach III razor and started the next stage of the transformation. It took a few minutes to shave away the stubble from his boi's head and make him as smooth and shiny as a baby.

Gaz sat there frozen in disbelief as each stroke of the razor revealed another patch of scalp completely void of hair. As Mick finished up, he produced a handheld mirror to show the back and sides: “what do you think boi?”

Gaz didn’t recognise the person staring back at him - he was starting to look like a dumb thug who’d grown up on a council estate and spent years getting in trouble with the law. Not some twenty-something who had grown up the perfect, but very boring, nuclear family. “Yeah, this is perfect, just how I wanted to look”.

"It's only the beginning of your transformation lad. Now we need to get you dressed. Stay there." Mick ordered and walked over to a cupboard ar the back of the room.

Gaz didn't want to move. He was transfixed by the skinhead he saw in the mirror - so much so that he didn't hear Mick calling to him.

"Get over here boi!"

Gaz came back to reality and jumped out of the chair. He walked over to where Mick was standing. It was a cupboard full of boots, jeans with bleach splashes, t-shirts, polo shirts and bomber jackets.

For the second time in as many hours, Gaz was enthralled by the content in the cupboard - as he stared at the many pairs boots on the shelf he was almost drooling. "Right lad," Mick said jerking Gaz out of his boot gazing, "we can get you started with what's in here. You'll need to get more in time but that can wait till you start yer new job."

With that Mick began to outfit his boi in classic skinhead attire. He started by handing Gaz a t-shirt wich the boy slipped over his head, then came a pair of very tight fitting jeans with bleach splashes - bleachers as they are generally known. As he put them on he could sense blood rushing towards his groin area. Seeing this Mick smiled; Gaz smiled back sensing he was blushing. As he finished buttoning his bleachers, he saw the jeans had been cut off just below the knee - he would soon find out why. Next, Gaz was handed a pair of white(ish) football socks. "Get them on your feet."

As Gaz was putting his socks, he looked up when another skinhead entered the room. He was a bit younger than Mick but older than Gaz; his arms covered in tattoos and a huge ring in his nose and both ears pierced, "is he ready Mick?"

"Not quite Al, he's got his boots to put on an lace properly." He turned to Gaz, "for now you need to pull your socks over your knees." When Gaz had done as instructed, Mick put a pair of black 20 hole boots with white laces in front of him. He sat down and began talking him through tightly ladder-lacing his boots, first the right foot then the left.

In no time at all Gaz had ladder-laced his boots.

"Stand up lad - look in the mirror!" Mick instructed, "how does that feel?" He didn't need to ask - the lump in the boi's bleachers was there for all to see.

"i...," Gaz was stuck for words. After a few moments he spurted, "I can't believe what I'm looking at," as Gaz found himself feeling a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.

Mick was pleased with the transformation so far. He offered Gaz a cigarette. “Sorry, I don’t smoke”. Mick threw Gaz against the wall “lesson one, you don’t get the choose what you do and don’t do anymore. Skinheads smoke and now you're a skinhead so that means you're a smoker too. I want you to smoke a pack a day boi”.

For the first time since he walked into the pub Gaz was intimidated - especially knowing there was another skinhead in the room watching. Gaz gingerly took the smoke from Mick and lit up. It tasted awful and he was trying his best not to cough after every inhale.

“You’ll get use to it boi. Give it a few weeks you won’t be able to get out of bed without sparking up” Mick laughed. This is Al by the way. He's a tattooist - he's going to make your transformation more permanent.

"Right Al, he's ready for the next stage."

Al smiled, "come slong me boi."

Gaz followed Mick and Al out of the room, and out of a side door in the pub. Even though he'd worn his Doc Martens on a number of occasions, walking in 20-hole boots felt so different. To start with the leather was new and the soles of were solid and heavy. Mick and Al were heading off and Gaz had trouble keeping up. Eventually the two older skinheads arrived at a tattoo studio, with Gaz arriving a few seconds later.

"Right here we are. It's time to finish the job. Al's gonna give you your ink and we'll get some metal into you too,"

"Yes boi," interjected Al, "in the chair, take your shirt off and we can get started."

Gaz took off his shirt and sat in the chair.

"I think you should light up boi," Mick instructed, holding out a pack of cigs. Gaz took one and lit up. Even though it was only his second cigarette, he was doing better at not coughing every time he inhale.

"Right Mick, so just as we talked about earlier?" Al asked.

"Yes, just the ones he can't hide - the ones on his knuckles, hands, neck for today, then over the next few visits he can get his sleeves done and then you can work on his back.

Gaz's heartbeat was rising rapidly as he was listening to what was about to happen. The transformation so-far was reversible, but the moment the tattooing started there would be no turning back. Then all of a sudden he felt a wave of calm as he realised he wasn't forcibly being transformed. His lifetime wish was become a reality and Mick and Al were facilitating his deep desires.

Al set up his equipment and began. As the needle buzzed, skinhead symbols etched themselves onto Gaz's skin – a commitment to a lifestyle that was rapidly becoming his own. The letters S-K-I-N and H-E-A-D were tattooed onto his knuckles. Next, a swallow was tattooed on the back of his left hand, followed by his right hand. Then Al began the more painful and time consuming work of tattooing a spiderweb onto the left side of Gaz's neck and a pair of red DMs on the right hand side. Both would be positioned too high for Gaz to cover them up - even if that's what he wanted to do - and he didn't, ever!

Piercings followed suit, adding a further edge to Gaz's appearance. His ears were adorned with small gold hoops, then his nipples were pierced - wincing at the pain as the needle went through the sensitive skin.

"One more for today boi and then we are done. If you thought your nipple piercings hurt, then you'll really feel it when we get your septum done."

Mick wasn't wrong. However, compared to the continuous, vibrating pain of being tattooed, Gaz would describe the septum piercing as a quick, sharp pain. In no time at all he had a 14 gauge septum piercing with a gold ring though it.

"Your nose is going to be tender to touch and will probably take a couple of week to heal." Al told Gaz. We'll look at changing to a slightly bigger ring as Mick wants in a couple of months, that's provided it has healed well."

Mick walked over to Gaz and grabbed him roughly. Mick pressed his body up against Gaz and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then he thrust his tongue harshly into Gaz's mouth. Gaz had never kissed a man before, in fact he hadn't kissed many girls before. So he just let Mick take charge. Gaz found he loved the smokey taste of Mick's mouth too - imagining that his would taste the same as he become a 20-a-day smoker.

In that single moment Gaz felt a sense of liberation that transcended his previous life. There would be no return for once ordinary office worker. Instead, with Mick's guidance, Gaz secured his first manual job. Being a workie on a building site was a fitting occupation for his newfound identity.

In the end, Gareth's (now Gaz's) transformation went beyond skin-deep. He found a sense of purpose and community that resonated with him on a profound level. Mick, the seasoned skinhead mentor, had unwittingly become Gaz's Alpha guiding the 22 year old through a journey of self-discovery that led him to embrace a life that, just weeks before, had been unimaginable.

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 16

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 15 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 16

The thud of your steel-toed boots was loud in the near-empty Bounty Hunter’s hanger as you returned from the flight line to your office on Friday. Since the squadron was deployed, only a skeleton crew and the civilian DOD employees were in residence.

Plus, there was the odd Dagger who dropped in to chat.

Since you’d been back at work, someone had visited every day. Nat brought coffee. Bob poked his head in to chat for a few minutes. Reuben would swing by with snacks. And Javy? Javy showed up at the house with dinner. 

As much as you appreciated them checking on you, it was overwhelming. And exhausting. They wanted to ensure you were okay, so you tried showing that. You didn’t want them to worry, and for that to get back to Jake. So, if that meant putting on a brave face and joking with your friends, so be it.

In the week and a half since deploying, Jake had texted you a handful of times. Though the carrier had wifi, it was still difficult to coordinate a time to talk between his long shifts, your work schedule, and the time difference. The ship was still traveling, but you were already steadily moving toward the 17-hour time difference. After waking up the first morning to a missed text, you turned your phone off silent mode and slept with it on your pillow. On Tuesday, you’d been able to trade five messages with Jake before he went to bed and while you waited for the nausea meds to kick in to start your day. 

You were hoping to schedule a call with him over the weekend. No matter what time, you would make sure to be awake. 

Nudging your office door open, you pressed a hand to your rumbling stomach. You’d been running late to work this morning and hadn’t had a chance to eat anything. The quality assurance guys had asked for you to be on-site with them as they walked some government contractors - including your old coworker Glen - through an inspection to ensure that contract stipulations were being met. The baby was making their dissatisfaction with your empty stomach known, and another anti-nausea pill was in your immediate future. “I know,” you sighed, walking to your desk and kicking off the heavy boots you had to wear while on the flight line. “We’re getting something soon.”

After swapping the boots for flats, you grabbed your purse and cell phone. Phones weren’t authorized on the flight line, and you’d reluctantly left it behind. Which was why seeing a missed call from Jake knocked the breath from your lungs. Tears sprang to your eyes as you clicked on the voicemail.

“Hey, darlin’. I know you’re at work, but I had a couple minutes and thought I’d try to catch you. I…uh… I hate to say this, but we’re going radio silent. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I’m sorry, darlin’. I love you.” 

Quickly, you tried to call him back. It went straight to voicemail. On the off chance he could listen to the message, you cleared your throat and forced your tone to be bright. “Hey, babe. Sorry I missed you - I was out on the flight line. You know how the QA guys are about phones, and I didn’t want to get written up for a safety breach. Apple and I miss you, but we’re okay. Tell Rooster and Mav I say hi. Be safe. We love you, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

Jake smiled at you from your home screen after you ended the call, a quick picture you’d snapped of him as he woke up, hair mussed with sleep and pillow lines creasing his face. He disliked that picture but could never convince you to change it. Taking a deep breath, you forced away your tears and grabbed your purse. 

Jake turned off his phone and hung his head. He’d known it was a long shot to catch you during the middle of the day, but he’d wanted to hear your voice. It was a harder transition than he’d expected, from talking to you daily to subsisting on a few texts. He missed hearing your music as you got ready in the morning, how you’d mumble in your sleep occasionally, and your commentary on his driving. He even missed finding strands of your hair all over his stuff. 

He didn’t want to constantly compare his first and second marriages. Still, this deployment was definitely more brutal than any before. And it wasn’t only because of the baby.

For the first time in a long time, Jake had someone he wanted to be with at home. And who wanted to be with him. He���d never really had an issue with the lack of communication while underway before - an email or two to his sister, a couple-minute call to his mom, and stilted conversations with his first wife had been the norm - and had happily traded away his scheduled call times. But now, going radio silent was killing him. He couldn’t send you a good morning text or check on how you were feeling. There were no updates about how big the baby was getting or the doctor’s appointment he knew was coming up. 

Hopefully, it was only for a few days, he thought, pushing to his feet and slowly returning from the Officer’s Lounge to the stateroom he shared with Rooster and Fritz. Mav was billeted with the other captains. Though stationed at the same base, Jake hadn’t interacted with Fritz much after returning to Lemoore, other than nodding at him when passing in the hallway of the Bounty Hunters’ hanger on his way to visit you. He, Rooster, and Mav were the odd men out on the mission. The air wings were tight-knit after training and previous deployments together, so he’d take whatever comradery he could find.

When Jake pushed the door open, Rooster was lying in his bunk, scrolling on his phone. Clocking his stormy expression, the aviator decided against teasing him about how his call went as Jake returned his phone to his assigned safe. “I’m gonna grab a coffee before heading to the ready room. Want to join?” he asked.

“I guess,“ Jake replied. They were due to a briefing on the multinational war games they were to participate in. It was good experience for them to practice flying sorties against potential combatants, especially with the additional steps the US military took to make the engagements harder for their pilots. The US military basically tied one hand behind its back during the games, pushing its aviators and sailors to think creatively when faced with potential barriers. 

There is more to gain from losing than winning. The brass could use the information to devise new strategies and tactics, which was the ultimate goal of these international scrimmages. But that didn’t mean that they liked losing. While sailing to the designated site, they would devise a plan to help defeat the enemy. And Jake had been drafted to help teach those tactics.

“Fuck,” you growled, slamming your hand against the cool shower tile. Blindly, you turned the water heat down as the room spun. Over the last few days, you’d started feeling lightheaded again, something you hoped was behind you. But apparently, dizziness was expected in the second trimester of pregnancy as your blood volume increased. Hopefully, you thought, this wouldn’t land you back in the emergency department. You could only imagine how Jake would feel if that happened while he was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 

With that in mind, you slowly lowered yourself to sit in the bathtub and attempted to rest your forehead on your knees. Between your stomach and how the position made your back twinge and breasts ache, you huffed and leaned back against the tub. A stab of pain shot down your right side, and you whimpered, hands going to your belly as you stiffened. Thankfully, it faded quickly. Dr. Shearer confirmed that the pain was normal during your check-up on Thursday. 

An unwelcome sob rose in your throat, and you clapped a hand to your mouth to trap it. There was nothing to cry about, you scolded yourself. The shooting pain was an unfortunate side effect of your body changing to accommodate the baby. Yes, it sucked that Jake wasn’t there to dig his thumbs into your lower back and kneed away that tension or hold you when your head spun, but tough shit. It was something you needed to get used to. As much as you wanted your husband there to hold your hand and make you feel better, billions of women got through pregnancy alone. Seventeen weeks down, twenty-three to go. Sunday - tomorrow - would mark the beginning of week 18.

And you were luckier than most. Your husband and parents were supportive, and you had a great group of friends around. Like Nat, who would be there shortly to help you go shopping now that you were officially getting to the very limits of your wardrobe. For all that she was stuck wearing a uniform at work, the aviator enjoyed clothes shopping and had promised to make it a fun day even though you were dreading it. And your coworkers were being phenomenally supportive. Even Jake’s squadron had taken to popping over to check on you. Admiral Tritz’s wife had offered support and connected you to some of the other officers’ wives.

It didn’t matter that it had been a week since hearing anything from Jake. He was busy, and so were you. This was just part of life, loving someone in the military. Hell, growing up, you’d done this. In kindergarten, your dad had been gone so much that you vividly remembered picking him up from the airport, confident that you were dreaming because Dad was home. There were so many weekend mornings that you’d woken up to your mom in front of the computer on a video call, trying to catch a few minutes with one another before he went to bed when assigned to temporary duty in another country. Your sophomore year of high school, Dad had gone on a solo remote tour to Korea for a year in exchange for orders to Florida because that’s where you wanted to go to college. 

Mom had encouraged you to stay busy. That would help the time fly by. And it had, to some extent. Work was a good distraction, and you tried to keep in touch with your friends back home. But the loneliness crept in at night. You missed the casual intimacy of getting ready together in the morning, driving into work and commenting on the talk radio conversations, standing beside one another in the bathroom while brushing your teeth, and how he would make sure you were settled before turning off the light and crawling into bed beside you. 

Three weeks alone in the house, and you were slowly building a new routine. You were back to cooking dinner on Sunday and making enough leftovers for the week. After forgetting to set the coffee pot the first day - that was Jake’s chore - you did it while getting a glass of water before bed. His truck became your weekend car to make sure the battery didn’t die. 

Hot tears trailed down your face, and you slid under the shower spray to rinse the conditioner from your hair. You needed to get ready because Nat would be there soon. Wallowing would get you nowhere. 

It took a moment to realize that your music had become a ringtone. You pulled back the curtain to see who was calling, and your heart stopped.

The last picture Jake had sent you - him in his jet, smiling behind his oxygen mask - appeared on the screen. 

Quickly, you wiped your hand on the bath mat and reached for the phone, swiping to answer. “Hold on!” you said, letting the curtain fall back and turning off the water. Reluctant to stand too quickly, you ripped back the curtains and sat on the tub's rim, yanking the towel from the rack and drying your hands. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. “Just a second!”

Jake’s laugh echoed through the bathroom as you quickly tapped the speakerphone. “Take your time, darlin’.”

“I’m getting out of the shower.”

“Don’t move too fast, then. Don’t want you to slip.”

“I’m being careful,” you answered, grinning through your tears while swinging your legs out of the tub. Sniffling, you grabbed the phone and held it tightly, wanting to have him closer. “I’m here.”

“Good.” The phone beeped, signaling an incoming video call. Reluctantly, you accepted it, ensuring the camera was pointed at the ceiling. The angle allowed you to see him, hair flattened to his head and dark circles under his eyes but kept you out of frame.

“Hang on, let me put some clothes on.”

“Lemme see you first.” Mistaking the reason for your reluctance, Jake quickly added. “I’m not around anyone now. Everyone else’s already gone to bed.”

“What time is it?” you asked, trying to distract him. It had to be early, given the time difference and the way his accent was stronger with exhaustion.

“Almost 3:00AM. I wanted to call you as soon as we got the okay, but I fell asleep after my shift.” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him to go to sleep and that you would talk to him later, but you selfishly wanted him to stay on the phone. He yawned, scrubbing a hand through his hair and blinking tiredly into the camera. “C’mon, Mama - lemme see my girls.”

Sighing, you chewed your lower lip while lifting the phone so you were in the frame. Jake’s smile dimmed as he frowned. “Hey, babe.”

“Were you crying?” 

“‘M fine,” you said quickly. “How are you? How have you been?”

“Why were you cryin’, darlin’? What’s wrong?” 

“‘M fine,” you repeated, blinking away the tears. “I just… I miss you.” 

Jake sighed your name, brows furrowing. “I miss you too. How’ve you been? Taking care of yourself?” Nodding, you dried off your legs and slowly stood. “Sloane behaving?”

“Oliver’s been okay. Making me lightheaded and a bit achy, but other than that, we’re good.”

“Lightheaded? Did you fainted ag - ”

“I’ve been fine, Jake. Just taking it slower and making sure that I sit down when I need to. I promise,” you added, wishing he was close enough to smooth the worry lines on his forehead. “Did you get the newest sonogram picture?”

“As soon as I turned on my phone. She’s getting big.”

“As big as a bell pepper tomorrow. And apparently, they’ll start developing their hearing this week.” He smiled tiredly.

“Gonna have to make sure I spend some time talkin’ to her then. Make sure she knows her daddy’s voice.”

“Say the word and I’ll hold my phone to my stomach. He’ll probably have some good acoustics.” Chuckling, he shook his head. 

“Maybe next time. Wanna talk to Mama today. And see what you look like - you didn’t send me a picture of you.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked to the vanity. “No one’s around you?” 

“Officer’s lounge is empty,” he confirmed. Sighing, you covered the camera with your thumb, ignoring his grumble of discontent, and propped the phone against the mirror. With a deep breath, you dropped your hand and stepped back. Jake let out an appreciative whistle that made you blush. Scoffing, you quickly grabbed your underwear and put them on. “Slow down, gorgeous. I wanna get a look at you.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re sexy as hell.” Moaning, he shifted in his chair, hand disappearing to where you could picture him adjusting himself. “Damn, Mama. We’re gonna have to have another kid so I can enjoy you lookin’ like that in person.”

At that, you laughed and snatched up your leggings, yanking them on. “Again - ridiculous. Let’s survive our first pregnancy before talking about another one.” The stretchy material clung to your stomach, emphasizing the curve. 

“Hang on, turn to the side,” Jake said, bringing the phone closer to his face. When you did, placing a hand on top of your stomach, he breathed, “Fuck.” You watched as he tapped the screen, taking a picture. “I’m the unluckiest son of a bitch. Look at you, gettin’ bigger with my baby, an’ I’m not there to take care of you.” The exhaustion on his face was mixed with a different type of hunger, making you think of the nights you woke him up with teasing touches and soft kisses. Nights where words weren’t needed, conscious enough to be lost in the dreamlike pleasure of one another. 

The thought made you shift, a familiar ache appearing between your thighs. While it wasn’t the main reason you wanted your husband home, you missed him in your bed. You'd gotten used to his touch in the year you’d been together. At the slightest hint of being turned on, Jake was happy to take charge and make you cum. Your body craved the feel of his calloused fingers, his soft lips on your skin, and his weight holding you down. 

And it felt like you were turned on most of the time now. 

A devilish smirk crossed Jake’s mouth as he watched your nipples harden. “Cold, darlin’?” 

“Not exactly.” Slowly, you dragged your fingers up your chest, lightly running your nail across your bare breast. “Miss you.” He groaned, reaching to adjust his earbud.

“From sad to horny, huh?”

“More like sad and horny,” you corrected. 

“Same, darlin’. Wish I was there to take care of you the way you like.”

“Me too. It’s not the same without you. Doesn’t feel as good.” At that, his head dropped back onto the chair, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he let out a heavy breath.

“You’re killin’ me, Mama.” At your sharp inhale, his gaze snapped to the camera in time to see you pinching your nipple. “Fuck. Do it again.” With your lower lip between your teeth, you did as he said, whimpering at the rough feeling. Jake shifted, a pretty red flush appearing on his skin. “Tryin’ ta get me in trouble, darlin’?” he rasped.

“Never.” 

“Liar.” He watched as your fingers slid into the top of your legging and underwear, tugging them down. 

“Tell me to stop,” you challenged. At his silence, you pushed the material down your hips and legs, letting it pool at your feet. Stepping out of it, you picked up the phone and made your way to the bed, settling on his side. “Cat got your tongue, Hangman?”

“Just admiring the view, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you flipped the camera to show your fingers trailing down your naked body. While your breasts were easily viewable, your stomach hid your lower half. “Gonna give me a show?”

“Tell me what you want to see.”

“Wanna see my pretty - ” Jake’s eyes darted to the side, and he quickly sat up. The seductive, teasing tone was gone when he said, “Girl’s ultrasound.” His gaze tracked someone, and he nodded before looking at the camera. Quickly, you flipped the view so he could see your face. 

“Someone’s there?” 

“Yup. Would you send me one of the pictures?” Scrubbing a hand down your face, you moaned. Arousal hummed under your skin, and a small part of you was tempted to take care of yourself while on the call, but that would be cruel to your husband. Especially if there was another person around. As much as you loved teasing him, that was a bridge too far.

Huffing, you flipped back the covers and propped the phone on his pillow. You could smell the faintest hint of his shampoo clinging to the fabric. “Are you asking for an actual ultrasound picture or dirty pictures?” you smirked, tugging the blanket up to your chest. 

“Both.”

“Anything else you’d like, Lieutenant Seresin?” His eyes darted to the side again.

“So many things, darlin’. But I’d settle for some snacks.”

“Sure. I’m running low on my snacks, too, so it’s good timing.”

“The normal ones, or are you having pregnancy cravings?” he asked, cocking his head. Jake hated that he had to ask, adding it to the running list of things he was missing.

“Well, I don’t usually crave beef jerky or yogurt-covered pretzels, so I’d say pregnancy cravings.” 

“Anything else?”

“I mean, there’s been a few nights I’ve gone out for a milkshake and fries.” 

“Wish I was there to make the run for you. You go to our anniversary spot?” Laughing, you nodded while sliding a hand under the covers to cradle your stomach.

“I did go to our anniversary spot. Their fries are so salty, and the ice cream machine was actually working. So this one will probably be more than happy to go twice a year for our anniversaries.”

“Once, Mama. We agreed to go to McDonald’s for our dating anniversary, not our wedding one. Wanna at least have one night where I can spoil you.” 

“I believe you said you’d think about it. And you can still spoil me, but we can end the night with chicken nuggets and fries.” Jake rolled his eyes before yawning. “Babe, you should go to bed.”

“‘M fine. Wanna talk to you.” 

“I need to get ready. Nat’s on her way, and we’re going shopping since I can no longer fit any of my work clothes.” His gaze softened as he frowned, thinking about how upset you’d been about that before he left.

“You okay?”

“Our credit card might not be.” 

“Darlin’.” You sighed, looking away to gather your thoughts.

“I’m okay. It’s easier now since I look pregnant, and people know.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re beautiful, Mama.” Tears pricked at your eyes, and you turned to hide your face in his pillow. Jake groaned, and you peeked to see his thumb brushing the screen as though he could touch you.

“I’m fine,” you sniffled. “I’m fine, babe.”

“Fine, beautiful, and gorgeous,” he agreed, causing you to blush. “Love you, darlin’.” 

“I love you too.” You watched as he clenched his jaw to keep from yawning again and sighed. “Go back to bed, honey. Call me when you wake up.” 

“Alright. Have fun with Phoenix, and buy whatever you want. Send me pictures.”

“You’re ridiculous. Goodnight.”

“Night, Mama. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When the call disconnected, you let the phone fall. Lightly stroking your stomach, you heaved a sigh, feeling better that you’d at least spoken to your husband. “I miss Daddy,” you whispered to the baby. 

And, though you knew it was your mind playing tricks on you because it was too early to feel movement, you thought you felt the slightest of flutters against your palm. 

----------------------------------------------

Author's Note: This chapter fought me because, though I knew the story was going to be angsty given the premise, it still hurt to write. Definitely brought up a lot of memories of my dad deploying, and what a toll that took on the family. Snuck some personal experience into the chapter, when Darlin' was reflecting on what it's like to love someone in the military. I definitely remember being 5 years old and thinking I was dreaming coming back from the airport with Dad in the car, because he deployed to Saudi A LOT that year. And he and Mom agreed for him to take remote - when the service member gets orders but the family doesn't - to Korea when we were ready to come stateside to make sure we got to Florida. (My older sister was already in college, and Mom put her foot down about living overseas while one of her kids was in the states alone.)

Thanks for your patience with me getting this out. I'm excited for the next chapter! Hopefully I'll be able to get that one out quicker, as I'm also working on a holiday story about Jake.

Read Chapter 17

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem; @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle; @hardballoonlove; @maeleeme; @emma8895eb; @xoxabs88xox; @queenslandlover-93; @memoriesat30; @queerqueenlynn

[player1064]

accidentally outing themselves on live tv? dunno how or if anyone else at sky knows but it’s something they’d do providing some images from the carraville discord that we were talking about yesterday

god they WOULD end up accidentally outing themselves bc they already can't keep their hands to themselves imagine how much worse they would be.......... I shudder to think............

---

“I’m here pitchside with Gary Neville –“

“—Carragher were meant to be joinin’ us, but he’s late getting up from London.”

“Yes, quite. I’m sure he’ll be arriving soon. In the meantime – Gary, what are your thoughts on United’s starting line-up tonight?”

*

Gary is nodding along to something Kelly is saying when his attention suddenly shifts to something off camera. He rolls his eyes as Jamie comes crashing in, bag slid halfway down his shoulders, seemingly unaware of the producer holding his earpiece who’s trying to get his attention.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he hurries up to Gary, immediately stepping into his personal space. He ducks his head down to press their lips together in a quick greeting before he continues, “there was a crash on the M6 or summat, a whole section of the road was closed off. Bloody nightmare, I’m tellin’ ya.”

As he talks, he doesn’t seem to notice Gary’s wide eyed stare, the blush rising in his cheeks, or Kelly clamping a hand to her mouth while her shoulders shake in laughter.

Gary tries his best to compose himself and turns to the camera with an expression caught between terror and amusement, and he says “well, now that Jamie’s very kindly provided us all with a traffic update I think it’s time for us to hear from our colleagues in the studio.” When the light of the camera turns off, he reaches out to give Jamie a slap round the back of the head and hisses “live television, James, how many years’ve you been doin’ this again?”

“Wha?” Jamie looks over, already surrounded by a small hoard of tech people and a make-up artists trying to get him camera ready as quickly as they can.

“Oh my God,” Gary mutters, pinching his brow. “Jamie, you dolt, you just kissed me in front of our live audience of what – a million people?”

“I never,” Jamie says with an offended glare, far too confident for someone who definitely fucking did.

“Oh my God,” Gary repeats. “You don’t believe me? Check your fucking phone.”

*

“You don’t even get Sky Sports in America, Philip, how have you already seen it?”

“Tray sent it to me, it’s all over Twitter.”

“Oh, well that’s just great then in’t it?” Gary huffs. At Jamie’s questioning look, he repeats “it’s all over Twitter, apparently.”

For a moment Jamie looks almost proud that he’s a trending topic, but he shuts his expression down when he sees Gary’s glare and turns back to his own phone call (“no, Ma, I –”)

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, Gaz,” Philip whines down the phone. “I tell you everythin’”

“An’ I keep askin’ you not to tell me everythin’! Isn’t a man entitled to a little privacy?”

*

Group: STF Gang NO PARENTS > Jill: who had money on it being Jamie cos I’m pretty sure I’d said Gary > Roy: I think we all said Gary > Ian: statistically it was most likely to be Gary. > Ian: but Roy said it’d be while they’re covering a match so I think he wins it > Jill: :(((

*

(24 new messages)

Stevie G: > you’re trending on twitter what have you done now > NEVIlLE??? Carra have some self respect

J Redknapp: > you melt 😂 > everyone in the studio is running around panicking rn

MO: > did everyone know except me?? > you’re shite at texting I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend > I didn’t even know you liked men? > Gaz is nice though we should all go for drinks sometime

*

(57 new messages)

Scholesy: > twat why didnt u tell me > u was moaning about him just last week

Philip MU mob: > you hung up before I could say but proud of you Gaz!

Roy Keane MU mob: > does this mean we’re allowed to tease you two about it on camera now > here if you need anything > [image: a blurry, blank-faced selfie with a thumbs up]

BIG MEEKS: > you could do better 🙄😉

[lvrhughes]

I’ve always loved you | T. Zegras

word count: 1.2k

pairing: Trevor Zegras x f!reader

summary: after a one night stand, and an embarrassing exit, you and Trevor finally work over all the hurdles to fall in love

warnings: none?

requested: no

not my gif!

Falling in love with a hot-shot hockey player was never the plan.

You were at the bar, he was at the bar, on a high from the win one thing lead to another and you woke up in his arms with a pounding headache.

“Fuck” mumbled out of your mouth, a pounding in you head was all that you could focus on, not the arms around your waist or the fact that this isn’t your bedroom. Trying to sit up is when you finally acknowledged the arms around you, keeping you in place.

“Don’t go” he whined, pulling you impossibly closer.

Who the fuck is that?

You just woken up in a bed that isn’t your, someone’s arms around you, and a killer headache. Sounds like a good way to start the week.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s Monday.”

Panic rushed in you when you realized, you were late for work and hung over. You pushed yourself from his arms, despite his constant pleas not to, and tried to find all items belonging to you. Your shirt was thrown on a chair and your pants just left on the floor.

“Baby, what’s the rush for?”

His voice. The rasp from the early morning, the way it was the most perfect sound you had ever heard almost lured you back to the bed. You turned to look at him, finally. You were in, none other then, Trevor fucking Zegras’ bed.

“oh my fuck” was mumbled by you.

“I- it’s Monday, I have work. I’m sorry.” And with that you rushed out of his apartment. Needless to say he was left so very confused, he hadn’t seen anything wrong with last night, and it was Sunday.

You were sat in the backseat of the Uber, holding your clothes in your arms, only wearing your pants and whatever shirt you had slept in, checking all your notifications from last night. 10 messages from your roommate

‘Where are you?’

‘Are you coming home?’

‘If you don’t answer soon I’m locking the house and I know you don’t have your key’

God damn. Even a few messages from people you barely talk to, sending videos of the party, telling how fun you were last night. You sighed, turning off your phone but not before seeing the date. It was Sunday. Great so you had just ran out thinking it was Monday, you probably looked insane and he probably thought you were too.

Finally the Uber arrived at your house, you thanked the driver and walked slowly towards the doors.

“Where were you?” The door was opened right before you as Estelle questioned you. She was quick, clearly not hung over and clearly interested to where you were.

“I think I just hooked up with Trevor Zegras.”

“WHAT” he reaction was loud, and did nothing to help the pounding in your head.

“Ow, now let me in. I thought it was Monday and ran out, I need more sleep.”

Pushing her out of the doorway you finally padded into your own home and to your room. As soon as you got in, you fell to your bed, sleep overcoming you instantly.

When you woke up later, there was more messages unopened in your phone. An unknown number had messaged you about six times.

‘Hey why’d you run out? You know it’s Sunday?’

‘It’s Trevor btw’

‘This must seem so creepy sorry, I got your number from your friend’

‘Estelle’

‘Fuck sorry I don’t know what I’m doing’

‘I had a good time last night, I don’t know about you but I’d love to do it again’

Holy fuck. This had to be a dream. Trevor Zegras, Anaheim ducks player, a nhl player, had a good night with you and wants to do it again. Fuck.

“ESTELLE”

“Oh good your finally awake.” She said running into your room.

“You gave Trevor my number?”

“Oops” she giggled, of course she did.

That entire incident was now four months ago, and you and Trevor had been hooking up ever since. And currently you were sitting on your couch with Estelle, watching whatever was on tv.

“Estelle, I won’t do this anymore. I have to end it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Trevor. I can’t take it, I think I love him.”

“Oh, why not tell him?”

“Because there’s no way he feels the same. He is a famous hockey player who could do so much better then me. There are so many other girls who are prettier.”

“Why not just try? What’s the worst to happen? He says he doesn’t feel the same, so what. His loss.”

She was right, and you knew it but that doesn’t mean that’s what you would do.

So you ghosted him. When he messaged you for the night, you cleared the notification. When he called you sent it to voicemail. This continued on for three weeks. Finally Trevor broke, he got your address from Estelle. Showed up at 2 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.

“Y/n” being mumbled in your ear constantly and the slight shaking is what woke you at 2 in the morning. Waking up to Trevor’s face in your was not expected.

“What the fuck?”

“I missed you. Why were you ignoring me?” His voice was soft, he had puppy dog eyes staring at you. Fuck it’s hard to ignore him in person.

“I wasn’t”

“Your lying”

“Mhm” and you rolled over. You needed to stop this.

Despite clearly knowing you didn’t want to see him, he still laid down. He pulled you into his chest, turning you to face him in the process. when you looked up he had a sappy smile on his face.

“What?”

“Your just pretty. And I missed you.”

blush covered your cheeks, burrowing yourself into his chest to hide. He laughed quietly.

“Why were you ignoring me?” He asked again after pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. You just shook your head.

“Come on baby, you got to talk to me.”

“No I don’t. I just don’t want to see you anymore.” You lied right through your teeth. And he could hear it.

“No you don’t, tell me the truth.”

fuck. He knows. He knows you always want to see him, that wouldn’t just change. Fuck it.

“I think I love you.”

he froze, and you knew you had messed up.

“No it’s fine, I know you don’t feel the same. It’s just people fall in love without reason, without wanting. You can’t predict love. And I get that, I get that you won’t love me. There’s better people out there. I understand I swear.” You were going to keep mumbling on to maybe bring yourself some comfort but he cut you off.

“Shut up”

“What”

“Please shut up”

He gave you no time to comprehend what he told you, he just kissed you. Passionately, he tried to put every emotion he was feeling into it. When you pushed him away he spoke fast.

“I love you”

“Trevor…”

“I mean it, I love you so much.”

“Don’t pity me. Don’t tell me something you don’t mean.”

“I mean it. I swear on my life. I love you.”

He gave no time for a response before pulling you back to him and putting his lips on yours.

“How long?” You mumble against his lips.

“Four months”

What. It’s only been four months. He’s only known you four months.

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve always loved you.”

[1heavy-heart]

𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾? - 𝖯𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗂 𝖦𝗈𝗇𝗓𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗓 ✨

I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my native language, if you find any mistakes let me know :)

..............................................................................................................................

pov: y/n and pedri are friends, but the two wanted to be something more

pedri pov

A few years ago I didn't imagine that my best friend was going to be a girl, but that's what happened. Me and y/n are best friends, it all started when we bumped into each other in a supermarket that is close to my house, at first she didn't seem to know that I was famous but then she admitted that she had seen me in some videos on tiktok. We chatted for a while while picking up items to buy, before leaving we exchanged cell phone numbers and from then on it was daily conversations.

What I liked most about her from the beginning is her way of being, it was light and she laughed at silly things, which made me feel free to make stupid jokes because I knew she would laugh. We build a very strong friendship, we run to each other when it's hard to face something, or when we just need a lap, anyway, she's light when everything seems dark in my life.

There's something that worries me lately but I can't tell you, because it has to do with her. I feel that I'm liking her beyond friendship and I'm afraid of ending everything we already have, I decide to ask Gavi for advice:

- Hey man, I need your help. I say and he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

- Tell me, Pedro.

- It's y/n, I feel like I'm liking her more than I should. - I say and scratch the back of my head.

- Are you saying that you like her in the sense of kissing, dating?

- Yeah, when she tells me about some guy she's talking to, my blood boils. - snort.

Gavi laughs and says: - I think you're in love with your best friend, what a cliché. But how can I help with that?

- Give me some advice, should I tell her or try to forget about it?

- Look, you're with her right now, it won't take long for her to suspect, and you know it's not easy to forget someone like that, so if I were you, I'd tell you.

- I'm afraid of screwing up

- man, you're not going to ruin everything, you two get along, you have so much in common, I know this won't end a friendship as strong as yours. - he smiled.

After leaving the ct, I go home thinking about what Gavi told me, I think that telling is the best option, me and y/n are always together in our spare time, so I won't be able to hide it for a long time. Even though I was scared, I decided to tell her and it would be today, I sent her a message:

                                                                 *message on*

- Hi dear friend, how are you? *

-Hi Pedrito, everything yes and with you?

-Also, I wanted to know if you're busy tonight?

-No, I'm free, why?

-Do you want to come over here and see Barbie? :)

-Oops, you know that when it's Barbie I always want it, can I go at 20?

-Yes, of course, I'll wait for you at 20 :)

                                                                 *message off*

I tried to stay confident as I waited for y/n. I wanted everything to go well and our friendship to remain the same, but my heart asked her to match what I felt. When it's 8:15 pm I hear the bell and I know it's her, typical delay of at least 15 minutes. I open the door and my heart races when I see her.

- hi Pedrito - she hugs me and passes towards the sofa.

- Hi y/n, I knew I was going to be a few minutes late and I ordered a pizza for 8:30 pm

- You know me well, right - she laughs and so do I.

- Do you want me to put the film on now?

- Maybe, come here so I can use you as a pillow. - she says and I sit next to her.

Soon the pizza arrived and we went to eat in the kitchen, we sat across from each other and I decided that it was going to be now that I would tell her what I was feeling

- Y/n, I need to tell you something, but I don't know if you'll like it. - I say and I can't stop tapping my foot repeatedly.

- What happened, Pedri? You know I'm not one to judge.

- We've been best friends for a few years and I've never felt that, but now every time I'm with you my heart races and when you talk about another guy I feel like I'm going to explode with jealousy, maybe you don't feel the same for me, but I decided to be honest with you, I just don't want to ruin our friendship or leave a boring atmosphere between us…- I say and see her get up from her chair, damn it! I'll screw with everything.

She stops beside me and looks at me with a smile on her face.

- Get up Pedrito, I want you to look at me. - I stand up and she lifts my chin so I look into her eyes.

- That's the best thing you could tell me, you know? - she smiles at me and I get silly. - It's been a while since I felt like you and I could be more than friends, but I thought you wouldn't want to, after all, look how many beautiful girls message you on instagram. - She laughs and so do I.

"Are you serious, y/n?

- Yes, Pedrito, I like you much more than you can imagine. She blushes and I feel my face heat up too.

I approach her and allow myself to look at her lips as if asking permission to kiss her, she comes closer too until finally I seal our lips in a calm kiss, which both she and I seemed to have been waiting for ages.

[entomolog-t]

Hey! I’ve been a fan of G/T content for quite a while, but I’ve mostly stuck to Deviantart&Wattpad. Pretty recently I decided to create a Tumblr account in an attempt to find more content, and I’ve been amazed by how interactive the community is here! However, I noticed something that I find pretty weird, and just wanted to get an opinion from someone who seems to be a pretty active member of the community, at least from what I’ve seen.

In all the posts I’ve seen, I’ve never seen VR mentioned even once. I might just not be looking in the right place, but I just found it weird. I’ve been an avid VRChat player for a while, and having spent a large amount of time there I noticed the potential it holds for genres like G/T. I was expecting to find at least a single mention of it somewhere here, but I never have. I see lots of posts from both sides of G/T that mention something like, “I really wish I could just hold/be held by someone, etc.” and, well, I’ve had experiences like that. I’ve fallen asleep and woken up in a friend’s hands before. I’ve had friends sitting/standing on my shoulder. They don’t even know this community exists, these interactions just happen naturally. 

I just want to share some of the experiences I’ve had, and when I went looking, nobody here seemed to know it was even possible. So yeah, that’s what finally motivated me to interact directly with the community. To at least let someone know that it is possible, and far more accessible than most seem to realize.

I’ll also make a standard post, but considering the fact that I’m a very new account I don’t expect many to see it. Thus why I messaged directly. I know this was a bit of a ramble, I'm still a little nervous about finally interacting with something I've only passively watched for quite a long time. So thanks for taking the time to read through, and I’d love to hear your opinion on why it isn’t mentioned, or anything else you wanna say! Take care out there!

OH! This is quite the interesting ask!! I may not be the best person to answer as I am far from techie.

First off, that sounds incredibly fun! I've only ever tried VR with an escape room - which oddly enough had a silly sizey experience; There was an issue with the calibration or something on one of the headsets and a friend who's just a little over 5ft had their in game avatar show up ballpark around 7ft tall.

I love that g/t seems to happen naturally with your interactions too! I'd love to hear more!

Now for the meat of the question- why isn't this mentioned? Again, keep in mind, I'm no techie or avid gamer so this is really biased towards myself. In no particular order,

Age

Price point

Tech Difficulty

Privacy

Missing sensations

My first guest would be age. I myself am in my mid/late twenties, and just never really grew up with that kind of tech, so theres just a lack of knowledge and not more than a passing interest in it. I think with age there also comes issues with free time, though I'll speak on that more with privacy. I think in general there tends to be a perception that VR chat rooms have a lot of minors (whether this is true or not, I have no clue, but as an adult that is a concern).

My second guess would be price point. Now, again, I am not a tech wiz, so I really don't know too well what would be a good headset (if any ol' cheap one would work, or if the oculus is the way to go), but I know the well known headsets are not at all cheap, and do also require a something to run them on (from my understanding thats just a good enough gaming pc? I have no clue.) Basically, there is a monetary component at play.

Thirdly would be tech difficulty. Some people are just bad at technology, and don't want to learn a new form of it.

Now privacy is what I would think is a big factor- and not online privacy. Roommates, siblings, spouses, family- if someone lives with another person they may not be comfortable being seen interacting on VRchat (especially with how paranoid some of us get with g/t), and then finding alone time is just an absolute pain with work, school, clubs, responsibilities etc.

Lastly, I think some people are hesitant about the missing sensations. Essentially, "who cares if all I can do is see it, I want to feel it." I think for some people it may have the opposite effect, and the degree of realism mixed with the very obviously "not real" cues could be more upsetting- being so close to having something you fantasize about but being reminded its not actually real.

Those are just my thoughts- and I hope others will add some of their own! This is quite the interesting topic and I'd love to hear more about it! As I mentioned earlier, I have very limited experience with VR, but from what little experience I did have it was a ton of fun! I feel like VRchat could be something a lot of people in the community could enjoy if they knew more/had access to it.

[pleasestaywithmedarling]

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin: Part XI

previous masterlist next

see end note for full content warning

Kiri lay shivering in her cell, huddled under her thin blanket. Autumn was turning into winter, and the nights in the stone room were growing cold. She was almost grateful for it, though—it kept her mind more alert. Some rich lord had been brought to the Chamber of Vessels two nights prior for a private ritual; for the first time in months, when she was at last brought out from the water, she’d not fallen into that hazy, dreamlike place within her own mind. Part of her wished she could simply float away into that state and stay there, where she couldn’t really feel her own terror.

But that was a foolish wish, she knew. She needed to stay sharp; based on the recent messages they’d received, it seemed that their rescue might be coming any day now.

Besides, whenever she’d disappeared into herself, Anden had always looked so relieved whenever she came back. She needed to try harder to not let it happen at all; if the cold helped her stay present in reality, then she should welcome the changing seasons. He was going through enough already, and he didn’t need to be worrying about her.

He did worry about her, though, despite her best efforts not to give him reason to. Over the past few months he’d grown quite attentive toward her, as well more open to her own consideration of him. She wasn’t sure what had caused such a change, but she welcomed it; it made this horrible nightmare a bit more bearable. Each night she had someone with whom to exchange light, distracting stories, or a few kind words. Even on the many days when they were both too exhausted to speak, to simply have someone else there with her, someone who saw her as herself and not an object to be used, had become a selfish source of comfort.

In his cell, Anden was draping his own blanket over himself and gasped at the movement. Kiri winced. He still refused to tell her what exactly Emitis did to him during his half of the private rituals. It wasn’t difficult to guess, though, that it was especially torturous. He groaned as he tried to pull the blanket further up over his shoulders.

“I wish I could do that for you,” she said softly. “I—I wish they would let me take care of you.”

“Not like there’s anything you could do,” he pointed out, not unkindly.

“I suppose not,” she admitted. “Still, though . . . I could sit with you. You could lay your head in my lap, if you’d like, and I could drape my blanket over the both of us. I could run my fingers through your hair until you fell asleep.”

Gods, what was she saying? Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

But tentatively, as though he were confessing something secret, Anden whispered, “I’d like that,” and her heart ached with a strange, happy sorrow. After a long moment, he asked, “Could you—could you sing for me?”

Kiri cast her mind about, trying to think of any song she knew that wasn’t a hymn to Vato. Her mother’s clear soprano voice rang out in her memory, and in her own warm alto she began to sing an old northern lullaby. The language had long been lost, but the song had been passed down in her mother’s family for centuries. Though she did not understand the meaning, the diphthongal vowels and lateral consonants of the words held a musical quality; they seemed to create their own melody, which that of the song merely harmonized to.

Her voice rose and fell at length, creating a sense of airy peaks and lush valleys. For a precious moment she was back in her village, singing softly to herself as she lay in her bed, gazing out her window at the surrounding mountains bathed in moonlight. The song's final notes wavered as she held back tears.

Looking over at Anden’s cell, she found him asleep, his expression more peaceful than she’d ever seen it. She wished from the depths of her core that, one day, he would know such peace every night.

Late in the afternoon the following day, a familiar figure came to pray at her pillar in the High Chamber; this time it was the tall woman with the dark braids. As she pressed her hand to Kiri’s before stepping over to Anden’s pillar, Kiri found to her relief that she’d only been handed a note. She’d mastered the art of dropping the tightly-folded slips of parchment into the fold at the side of her gown; it had been nerve-wracking two weeks ago when she’d had to do so with a tiny wooden box. She’d feared the object would prove too large for her makeshift pocket, but with the hints they’d been receiving that rescue was coming soon, she hadn’t dared refuse the item.

Thankfully she’d smuggled it back to the cells without incident, though she and Anden still weren’t certain of its intended use. Inside the box, they’d found a razor blade that they suspected was made of real Amantian steel, a metal rumored to be imbued with magic. Kiri didn’t believe such nonsense—everyone with the least bit of education in history knew that magic had died out from the lands at least a millennium ago. But the tiny blade was indeed remarkable; a bit of experimenting had shown that it cut through even cloth with relative ease. It had the potential to be an extremely useful tool, but to what purpose they couldn’t guess. She hoped that today’s note might prove illuminating.

She hoped, with a more wild and desperate sort of hope, that it might tell them they would be out of this hell of a temple that week, that very night even.

The next worshipper approached her. As he began reciting the prayer of gratitude, she subtly positioned her left fist to hold the folded parchment just above the fold in her draped gown. Just as she started to open her hand to release it, a passing priestess hissed in her ear to stand up straight, startling her.

She dropped the note.

Every fiber of her being was attuned to the subtle shift in the weight of her skirt as the parchment slid down the side of her gown. In a fraction of a second that seemed an eternity, it fell past her thigh, past her knee, until at last it finally dropped all the way to the floor.

She’d dropped the note.

Quickly she schooled her face into a carefully blank expression, but she could not still her shaking hands. Gods, what had she done? She tried to think of some way she could fix this, but panic was coursing through her entire body and she couldn’t think and gods, what had she done?

The notes were always so cryptic, though, she reminded herself; only Anden ever had any idea of their real meanings. Retrieval was surely impossible, but at least if it was found by anyone else, it wouldn’t give away any information. She gripped her skirts, willing herself to calm down. Perhaps if she could somehow slide the note further away from her without anyone seeing, no one would even suspect she’d had anything to do with it.

But where exactly had it landed? She shifted her weight to her right foot as she tried to subtly cast about the floor with her left. At last she felt it underfoot, and relief flooded through her so quickly that she felt her legs grow weak. But she couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. Far too much was at stake. Slowly, she began pulling the note toward the hidden safety of her skirts; she would wait until the temple staff were busy ushering the worshippers out at sunset, she decided, and then she would quietly kick it out toward the center of the chamber. With any luck, whoever found it would assume a worshipper had dropped it and think nothing of it.

But luck was not on her side, it seemed.

Just before she had pulled the note beneath her skirts, she felt a sudden resistance. Startled, she looked down to find an attendant crouched low, his hand pinning the folded parchment to the floor. She froze as he picked it off the ground and straightened back up. Without looking at her, he swiftly made his way to one of the priests at the side of the room.

It had all happened so quickly that the worshipper didn’t seem to have even noticed anything amiss; he continued in his recitation as though nothing had happened. But Kiri knew better. Her entire world had just changed in an instant. Months of multiple people risking their lives to plan an escape, had likely just gone to waste. And it was entirely her fault.

She must never be caught disobeying again.

Her hands began flapping.

She was strapped to the stone table and just below her collarbone her skin was on fire. But even through the anguish of the branding, she could hear Anden’s screams from the next table as the iron was pressed into his flesh.

She couldn’t get enough air, and the entire room was spinning.

She’d tried to run away and they’d marked her like cattle and the pain was excruciating. And he’d simply existed and been labeled the Vessel of Sin and they were doing the same to him.

She could sense Anden’s eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look at him. Had he seen what happened? Did he already know that she’d just doomed them both?

It was her punishment, so it was his punishment, and it was entirely her fault.

Emitis would know what she’d been doing these past months. He’d know that she was trying to run away again. His punishment would be swift and terrible.

Anden’s agonized howl filled the room and it filled her head and it filled her down to her core.

Even worse was the dreadful knowledge that they may never have another chance to escape. Anden may never have another chance—

She must never be caught disobeying again.

—and it was entirely her fault.

But no, she realized. Emitis didn’t know anything. Not yet.

She had to keep it that way.

The final half hour of the day stretched maddeningly, and yet it was over all too soon. As the last of the worshippers were guided out of the temple, Kiri’s anxiety continued to grow until she felt she might vomit. But she could do this. She had to do this. Because what other choice did she have?

Edric came and unlocked the collar that kept her leashed to her pillar. “Heard you’ve been a bad girl,” he said lowly as his fingers brushed the nape of her neck. “I just hope that I can help give you what you deserve.”

She jerked her head to the side as she threw up on the floor. Some of it landed on the left of her gown, and she watched as one glob ran down into the folds of the skirt. Suddenly, she was laughing, and then just as suddenly she was crying.

Pain erupted across the side of her face, and she realized belatedly that Edric had struck her and was now dragging her out the door of the High Chamber, with Anden and his guards hastening to follow. But instead of heading to the back halls, he pulled her along toward the temple’s main entrance before turning into the east wing and stepping into the Chamber of Contrition.

Inside, standing just before the statue of Vato on His throne, stood Emitis.

In his hand was the note.

Kiri was forced to her knees, and soon Anden was down beside her. Neither one of them looked at the other.

Slowly, Emitis unfolded the slip of parchment, and his voice was dangerously calm as he read, “’I’ll meet you at your house tomorrow night, or if I find I can’t get away then I’ll meet with you next year—I still need to return your copy of The Seaman of Oshna.’” He held it up to her for her to read. “What meaning does this hold to you?”

“I—I don’t know what it means.”

“Liar.” He motioned to one of Anden’s guards, who struck Anden so sharp a blow that he fell to the floor.

“Please—please, I don’t know, truly!”

“Rather difficult to believe that’s possible, given the pains you were taking to hide it.” At his gesture, the guard kicked hard at Anden’s stomach, eliciting a low moan. “Tell me.” With Anden’s arms still bound behind him, he could do nothing to protect himself when the next kick hit his chest.

“Stop—stop it, please! I swear, I don’t know!”

Another guard yanked Anden up by the hair while the first punched him hard across the jaw.

Emitis gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Who gave this to you?”

“N—No one.”

“Don’t lie.”

Another blow, and Kiri’s hands flapped in distress. As the interrogation continued, Anden’s groans grew louder and louder, until at last a shout was torn from him that sounded more animal than human.

Emitis’ tugged at her face until she was looking at the ground where Anden lay panting. There was a hard determination in his green eyes, but already one side of his face was swelling, and he was almost doubled over in pain. And she could see from the clench of his jaw that, however stoic he might try to appear, he was just as scared as she was.

“I know how much it grieves you to see him hurt,” Emitis said tenderly. “If you’ll only tell me the truth, you won’t have to hurt him anymore.”

The injustice of the statement broke something loose inside of her; through her tears she snarled, “I am not the one hurting him!”

The High Priest was silent for a moment. “You think not?” His voice took on a dangerous edge that made Kiri’s breath hitch. “Perhaps we must help you understand, then.” He pulled her to her feet, and moments later she was standing face-to-face with Anden.

Whatever was coming next was going to be hell, she knew with terrible certainty. And as she guiltily met Anden’s gaze she could see that, somewhere behind his mask of angry defiance, he knew it too. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered in horrified refrain as tears streamed down her face. Had it truly only been last night that she was taking comfort in the thought of escape, and of Anden finding peace somewhere away from all this torment? Such dreams were all but impossible now.

And it was entirely her fault.

Something was pressed into her hand, and she looked down to see that she was holding a small knife. She stared at the blade in bewilderment, finally looking up to see that Anden was being given one, too. The guard who handed it to him warned him not to try anything, and she noticed at last the half dozen guards in the room had surrounded them with weapons drawn. Her stomach began to sink even as her mind was still slowly trying to catch up to what was happening.

“Now then, allow me to explain how we will proceed,” said Emitis, and his eyes gleamed coldly as he fixed his gaze upon her. “I will ask a question, and you will answer. If I do not like your answer, you will make one horizontal cut across the arm of the Vessel of Sin, and he will do the same to you. Should either of you refuse to do so, the guards will be the ones doing the cutting, and they may not be so kind as to stop at only one. Are we clear?”

Kiri looked down at the knife in her hand. And then she looked up at Anden, but she saw him as though from far away. She’d floated away into that hazy place within her own mind, the place where she couldn’t really feel her own terror. Numbly, she wondered if she would ever leave again. Perhaps Anden would no longer care if she didn’t, not after today.

Her heart shattered at the thought, and she didn’t feel a thing.

next

If I get yelled at for this one, I am very aware that I'll deserve it. I promise everything will stop being so terrible...eventually!

Thank you so much for reading!!!

taglist: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @little-peril-stories

content warning: captivity, religious abuse, restraints, torture, dissociation, victim self-blaming

[jessource]

sentence starters: emails i can’t send.

rp sentence starters from sabrina carpenter’s, emails i can’t send.  ( part one )

emails i can’t send.

“it’s times like these, wish i had a time machine.”

“at 10:15, were you really asleep?”

“were you lying to me and the family?”

“there’s no ‘us’ in us when i’m lackin’ trust.”

“you disgust me.”

“don’t make me cuss you out.”

“why’d you let me down?”

“don’t say sorry now.”

“thanks to you i, i can’t love right.”

“they’re havin’ sex right now.”

“scared i’ll find out that it’s true.”

“i blame you for every worst that i assume.”

“when i’m fourty-five, someone calls me their wife.”

“and (he/she/they) fucks our lives in one selfish night.”

“don’t think i’ll find forgiveness as fast as mom did.”

“god, i love you, but you’re such a dipshit.”

“please fuckin’ fix this.”

“you were all i looked up to.”

“now i can’t even look at you.”

“i mean, as they say in chicago, ‘he had it comin’.”

vicious.

“one year, ten thousand bad moments.”

“i tried to look for the best in the worst. but like, fuck me, that caused a commotion.”

“you’re lucky i’m a private person.”

“i’ve quietly carried your burden.”

“everyone thinks you’re an angel, but shit i would probably use different wording.”

“you’re so vicious. love me, then pretend you didn’t.”

“why you gotta be so vicious?”

“crush my heart and wreck my image.”

“you like a certain type of woman.”

“you just run to whoever is winning.”

“it was me and you for life, now you’re kinda acting like i died.”

“love me, then pretend you didnt.”

“half of me just can’t resist it.”

“you don’t feel remorse, you don’t feel the effects.”

“you don’t think you hurt me if you wish me the best.”

“i shoulda known all along, i was only the next one.”

“i loved you but i wish i didn’t.”

read your mind.

“you gotta be lonely.”

“say it’s hard, but you make it look easy.”

“i’m trying to live in reality.”

“tryna ease the tension.”

“you got me stressing.”

“tell me that you miss me in your life.”

“i can’t read your mind.”

“you say that you need to be alone. but night and day want me at your beck and call.”

“you might be crossing a line.”

“wasting all our time to think that we could be casual.”

“you’re not my friend.”

“why the fuss if you say you just wanna be mine?”

“tell me what’s gonna happen when it’s you and me in a room but you know you can’t have it.”

“i’ll be laughing when you say you really have changed.”

“did i get the message in the way you intended?”

tornado warnings.

“we were never in the park.”

“ignoring tornado warnings.”

“he didn’t hold me in his arms.”

“we didn’t stumble over the pages of our relationship arc.”

“i want you there sometimes.”

“i guess maybe that’s why i’m lying to my therapist.”

“i keep saying things like, ‘i never saw him and we never kisssed.’”

“if he doesn’t see it, then maybe it doesn’t exist.”

“i think he’s onto me.”

“i deserve an hour in a week to focus on my thoughts not so obsessed with yours. i can’t hear myself speak.”

“sometimes i wish i kept some of my feelings in the basement so i’d still have some left.”

“you drive me crazy.”

“that’s not gonna stop me.”

“you call me ‘baby’”

because i liked a boy.

“i said i wanted thin mints.”

“you said you knew a guy.”

“stars in your eyes.”

“who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless.”

“we bonded over black eyed peas and complicated exes.”

“fell so deeply into it. it was all so innocent.”

“now i’m a homewrecker.”

“i’m a slut.”

“i got death threats fillin’ up semi-trucks.”

“all because i liked—”

“i’m the hot topic on your tongue.”

“i’m a rebound.”

“tell me who i am.”

“guess i don’t have a choice.”

“all because i liked a boy.”

“i’m not catastrophizing.”

“everything’s derailing.”

“was only trynna hold you close while your heart was failing.”

“just two kids going through it.”

“you said i’m too late to be your first love.”

“but i’ll always be your favourite.”

“no, i wouldn’t recommend it.”

already over.

“we been talkin' for hours ‘bout how we shouldn’t talk for hours on end.”

“kissin’ after a conversation about how we’d probably be better off as friends.”

“same time here next weekend.”

“say we won’t do this again.”

“i say i’m done, but i’m still confused.”

“how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure?”

“i changed my mind.”

“but it’s still on you.”

“how am i supposed to leave you now that you’re already over?”

“selfishly, don’t wanna give you time to be on someone else’s lips.”

“i’ll take three short hours over three long weeks.”

“pretendin’ like we don’t exist.”

“i like my bed, but it likes you too.”

[puffpasstea]

OMGG you can do this whenever you feel like it but I have a request for satellite fluff. Maybe Alice is trying to do something nice and romantic for Harry as a gesture of her love, and maybe it doesn’t go exactly as she planned so she’s all frustrated and Harry comforts her and tells her that she tried her best and he appreciates her anyway??!? 🥹❤️

Hi lovie! Thanks for the request and for asking so politely; you're so nice! I hope you like this one. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: Fluff, VERY SMALL mentions of smut.

---

The sound of a door slamming and Harry’s voice, cursing, “shit,” under his breath startled me out of my slumber. 

 

“Harry?!” I jumped, sitting up instantly. 

 

“I’m so sorry my love.” He tiptoed over to me, his voice just above a whisper. “That was me. I- was tryin’ to get my clothes out of the closet without wakin’ you.”

 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder as he leaned in to kiss my lips. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep, honey.”

 

“Hmm.” I agreed. Relieved that everything was alright, I closed my eyes and let him tuck me back safely into the covers. He kissed my forehead sweetly before withdrawing out of the room. 

 

Harry had been overworking himself lately. Though, I think, one thing I quickly learned as soon as we got together, is that he did have a tendency to do that. He always overbooked his schedule; had a hard time saying no to anything; constantly overextended himself. I’ve yet to figure out where this stems from. Perhaps a fear of disappointing fans, or a feeling that he’s lucky to have the job that he does so it’d be ungrateful of him not to take every opportunity that he can, or a mix of both. Whatever the case may be, it was clear he’s been stressed lately. Leaving for work at ungodly hours, and coming home well past midnight, most nights, after I’d already gone to bed. 

It was all taking a toll on him, and he showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. 

 

I’d been there myself, not too long ago, in fact. Last month was midterms season at the college, which meant that my workload had tripled, seemingly out of nowhere. Throughout it all, Harry always found ways to be supportive. Not all of them were obvious, either. For instance, he’d sneak into my office after I’d left for the night and organize my chaos into small piles of “needs grading”, “needs revision,” and “complete.” He'd leave me little messages on post-it notes around the room, for me to find throughout the day. He’d complain that he was “bored” and use it as an excuse to sneak in some time with me and bring me some snacks to  make sure I was eating. He’d wash my clothes; cook my meals with enough leftovers to be packed as lunch the next day; beg me to go out for a walk with him and get some sunshine; bring me flowers…. He even remembered my therapy appointments and set reminders for me to keep on track. When he heard that I was thinking about skipping out on therapy one week because “I just don’t have time for it this week” he forced me to go. Harry excelled at all of this. The supportive boyfriend role came naturally to him. Though all of these gestures would seem to be mostly practical; simply about keeping our life running smoothly and doing chores around the house, picking up slack, they made me feel so loved and cared for. None of these things included him actually saying the words “ I love you,” but I felt as though he had, every time. 

 

It was my turn now. I needed to step up and show him that I love him. But, unlike him, gestures of affection were entirely new to me. I didn’t have a knack for knowing what made people feel loved at any given moment. And, Harry was rich enough to just “throw” money at any inconvenience. No time to do laundry? Send it out. Too busy to find time for grocery shopping and cooking dinner? No worries, just dine out or order in, better yet, call up the personal chef! What do you give someone who already has everything they could ever want, or need? Where does that leave me as a partner?

I couldn’t believe I had stooped this low, but I went online and googled “everyday gestures of love,” almost throwing up in my mouth at how embarrassing this was. While some of the recommendations on the list involved things like “buy their favorite snack” that I didn’t need to do, there were a few ideas that I could get inspired by. Alright. I had some planning to do. I wanted this coming weekend to be the best couple of days that Harry has ever had. 

***

 

Friday night had rolled around, and I was ready to deliver. My plan was to be so ridiculously sweet and romantic with him that, if I were a literal edible sweet, I’d kill him with a sugar overdose. After much contemplation, I decided to make us dinner. Surprising him with all of his favorite things: shrimp pasta, that weird healthy salad he likes, wine, and finishing off with a heart shaped, raspberry-white chocolate cake. It was shaped like a heart. It was chocolatey, it was red, what’s more obnoxiously romantic than that? But that was only the beginning. I dressed up, hiding an elaborate (and frankly quite uncomfortable) little piece of lingerie under my dress. I lit candles, decorated the dining table with flowers, and I waited to surprise Harry as soon as he got home. 

 

What I didn’t expect, however, was just how long I’d have to wait. It was already 7 pm and Harry hadn’t come home yet. I checked my phone to see if he’d called or texted, but I had nothing from him. Perhaps I should text him? But I didn’t want to rush him. This was about being supportive and loving, not impatient and attention-seeking. So, I waited. Then I waited some more. Then, I fell asleep. In my tight dress, makeup, and lingerie. Right on the couch. 

 

It was almost midnight when I heard the shuffling of Harry’s feet as he walked  into the room. 

“Oh my god, Alice! Did- did we have plans? Did I just completely forget and stand you up? Baby, I’m so, so sorry!!” Harry rushed over to me, grabbing me in his arms. Even in the poorly-lit living room, I saw his heart drop, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips. He was exhausted. 

 

“N-no, no. Harry, calm down.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “We didn’t have any plans.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed instantly. “You’re just dressed up, and….I’ve been so forgetful of everything lately, I just assumed-“

 

“Relax, Harry. Alright? I- umm. I made us dinner!” I said, springing to my feet. “You just stay right here. I’ll go get you a drink while the food heats up, okay?”

 

Harry’s lips parted, he was ready to protest. I stuck my finger out, pressing it to his lips. “Hush. Don’t wanna hear it. Just take a breather, okay? I’ll be right back.”

 

I got the oven started, turned on the stove, and set out the cake. Pouring Harry a drink, I began to feel nervous. Okay, so, the pages online said to be cheery. Ask him about his day. Listen to what he wants to talk about. Give him compliments. Play with his hair. Those are the things that he can’t buy with money. I can do that. Sounds simple enough. 

 

In the living room, Harry looked like he was ready to doze off. I stood over him with his drink in my hand, not sure if he was even awake. Then he stirred. 

 

“H-hey. Sorry, nearly fell asleep.” He smiled, reaching his hand out for the glass I’d brought him. “The lighting in here is making me sleepy.” I was going for romantic but okay. 

 

“I’ll turn the lights on, sorry.” I rushed to the light switches around the walls, turning them on one by one. “Better?” Harry nodded taking a sip of his drink. I shook my nervous off and sat next to him, rubbing his thigh gently as he drank. “S-so, how was your day?” Mentally, I checked “ask about his day” off the list.

 

“It was fucking torture. Had all these meetings all day, none of which went well. By the time I got to the studio most people had already left, but I didn’t want this day to be an absolute waste so I tried to get some work done, but- it just- it wasn’t happening! I kept pushing through the frustration but- everything I wrote was horrible-“

 

As Harry went on venting about his day, I tried to focus and be present in the moment, but my mind quickly drifted off to my role in all this. What was I supposed to say? What would he want to hear right now? I asked myself what Harry would say to me if the tables were turned. I tried to remember the tips I’d read online. Before I knew it, I was zoning out and completely missing what he’d said. 

 

“Well, uh, you’re home now. So, that’s all that matters.” I  smiled reassuringly and took the glass out of his hand, setting it on the end table. I jumped in his lap. “Just relax, okay?” brushing my fingers through his hair and feeling him relax at the gesture. Yes! Finally, some success. He nodded sluggishly, a hum reverberating in his throat.

 

“’S nice.” His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head against the couch cushion, releasing the tension from his shoulders. “Thank you for being here.” He mumbled, smiling up at me. “Kiss me, please?”

 

What started out as gentle kissing quickly heated up into more steamy territory. Harry’s arms desperately wrapped around me, as if worried I might escape. His tongue pushed against my lips, moaning into my mouth. Eventually, his hips were pushing up against mine, his clothed crotch looking for friction. “A-Alice,” he whined. “I-need- I’m a mess.” He confessed, blushing and hiding his face in my neck. “It’s not gonna take much.” His hips bucking up again, pushing his center against mine. “Please?”

 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” I smiled, curling the ends of his hair around my finger.

 

“Mhm. I’m so, so close. It’s actually quite humiliating, but- ahh,” He gasped as our bodies collided. “Please? help?” 

 

It’s not that I wanted to be cruel. Not at all. But Harry’s desperate hands squeezing all over my body reminded me of my plan. I’d dressed up for this. Shaved my body head to toe. Cooked. That’s not when the plan says to have sex. Plus, I had the oven going. I was too in my head to register Harry’s trembling, or the fact that my squirming and scrambling to get off his lap had rubbed enough on his groin to give him the most painful and underwhelming ruined orgasm ever. He moaned in pain as I jumped off of him.

“Wait, it’s time to eat!” I rushed into the kitchen, leaving Harry behind to deal with the waves of pain hitting his body. 

 

At dinner, Harry said nothing about the table decor, or the flowers. In fact, when I looked down at his plate, he’d hardly taken a bite. 

 

“I-is everything alright?” I looked at him; he seemed like he was falling asleep right at the table. 

 

“Yeah, mhm. All good.” He smiled, swirling his fork around.

 

“You’re not eating.”

 

“No, I am. I promise.”

 

“What? Does the food not taste good?” I  reached over and took a bite out of his plate, seeing if I could taste anything wrong. It seemed fine to me.

 

“The food’s great! I love that you made my favorite dishes. It’s so sweet of you. You definitely didn’t have to.” Harry forced a smile on his face, consciously squeezing his eyes open.

 

“What’s the matter then?”

 

“Well- it’s nothing. I just- I kind of already ate. Just before I got here actually. I…I thought you’d be asleep. Didn’t know you had a whole thing planned. I’m sorry. But I can still eat! It’s fine!”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!!”

 

“Honey, I tried to. When you said you’d made dinner, I was trying to tell you, but you just got out of the room so fast. It seemed important to you. And…like, you’ve put in all this effort. It’s okay, really. I always have room for pasta!” Harry went to dig his fork into his plate, but I reached over and grabbed it. 

 

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t have to eat if you’re full. That’s ridiculous. Let’s just go to bed.” It was kind of him to want to do it for me, but it was entirely unnecessary. 

 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made all this food, and-“

 

“I made it because I thought you’d be hungry when you came home. Cuz I was trying to make sure you ate something. Not because I wanted to force feed you. You’ve eaten! You’re all set. That’s all the matters. That you’re looking out for yourself. Let’s just go.”

 

Relief washed over his featured as he set down his silverware. “Okay.”

***

 

At least I had one last trick up my sleeve, though if I weren’t so caught up in trying to make this night work, I might have had the presence of mind to know that saving this trick for another day is perhaps the wiser choice. I unzipped my dress and walked out of the bathroom. Harry had barely taken off his shoes. His feet dangled off the bed as his lower half hung over the edge. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes already half-closed. Before I could turn back around and put on a robe, he noticed me. 

 

“W-wow. You look- wow.”

 

His speechlessness made my cheeks flush.

 

He got off the bed and reached for me.

 

“No.” I pushed him back down. “Stay right where you are. Let me take care of everything this time.”

 

“wait, babe- before we-” Harry hissed.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

 

“I- ah, I need to- I gotta tell you something-“ 

 

I unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his legs by the hips. Harry grabbed my wrist as I hooked my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. “This is gonna sound- wait-“

 

I yanked them down in one swift motion. It was more aggressive than sexy. In my head, the assertiveness was meant to be hot. But it certainly didn’t look, or feel, that way. 

 

I saw the wet stain on the front of his boxers and looked up at him with tight lips and eyebrows quirked up. 

 

“It’s not- gosh, it’s not what it looks like, I promise. It’s-“

 

“Hey, I’m not judging. Like I said earlier, it’s been a while since we’ve….you know. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. I just think…I mean, maybe next time pack a spare-“

“W-wait, what? No! God, no! That’s not- what am I? some kind of animal? Jesus, Alice!” Harry blushed, looking away for a moment, then back at me. “This…it just happened earlier. On the couch?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah…told you it’s embarrassing, but, I don’t know. I got a bit too excited I guess, and, when you left to check on the food…you were a bit rough and…it’s- whatever. I- wanted to go change, but-“

 

“I did this to you?”

 

“C-can we not…I don’t know. Can we not talk about it?” He giggled.  I’ve always thought of myself as a free and comfortable guy, but- I guess admitting to your girlfriend about prematurely finishing in your pants brings out the worst in a man.” He licked his lips nervously.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry- I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I wanted to make you feel good!”

 

“I know; I know, baby. It’s okay. It was- god, I mean, this is sexy, huh? It was an accident.” He laughed, reaching for my necklace and fiddling with it anxiously. 

 

“Well, let me make it up to you.” I leaned in to kiss him. Harry pecked my lips quickly and pulled back. “Actually…Could we- maybe not? Not tonight. I’m feeling… im just a bit tired. Just wanna rinse off in the shower and go to sleep.”

 

“Oh.” I scampered off of him, gently, this time, and helped pull his clothes back on. “Of-course. Yeah…yeah, that’s a good idea.” I was aware that I sounded as though I was trying to convince myself that I was okay with this.  “Ummm..” I looked around the room to avoid his eyes. “Let me, just, wash off my makeup and you can go into the bathroom, yeah?”

 

“Take your time baby.” He gave me a tired smile and rested his head back down onto the bed. 

 

I understood why he’d turned down sex, and I certainly never wanted him to feel uncomfortable saying no, or feel like he had to sleep with me whenever I wanted, but even with all that in mind, I couldn’t help but feel a bit rejected. I took a deep breath and stood frozen in front of the mirror, watching my face for any signs of disappointment. I didn’t want him to feel guilty for having said no. But this was about more than the sex. It was about the fact that this night was looking nothing like I had planned it. All I wanted was to wrap him up in my love and appreciation and make sure he knew that he had a soft place to fall when things got to be too much. Somehow, I’d done the exact opposite. I was a failure as a partner. I mean, what does it say about me if I’m only good at receiving love, not giving it? Doesn’t that put a lot of pressure on the person cursed with having to be with me?  I was back at square one. Not knowing how to communicate my love for him. 

 

A sudden, piercing noise snapped my thread of thought in half. I ran out of the bathroom in a panic. “What is that?!” 

“It’s…the fire alarm” Harry yelled out over the sirens. “But I haven’t heard it in years.”

 

Fuck. My stupid cake. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk.” I rushed downstairs cursing and yelling. 

 

The kitchen and dining area were barely visible behind the black smoke. “SHIT!” I ran into the kitchen and turned the oven off; leaping to open ever window on the floor. My eyes were watering, my lungs filled with smoke, I struggled to breathe.

 

Moments later, Harry appeared behind me, speaking on the phone.  “No, sir. I promise. All is well. Just a cooking accident. Yes, I’m sure. It’s- it’s no big deal. Not at all please don’t bother. We’re okay there’s no reason you should drive out here at this hour. Yes. Thanks. Good night.”

 

I ran back into the kitchen with oven mitts, pulling out the flame-roasted remains of what was once my romantic gesture. Tears ran down my face and onto the black sludge in the pan.

 

“What was it in the oven, anyway?” Harry followed me, clueless.

 

I turned around, holding the cake in my hands and showing it to him. “My black, loveless heart is what it was!” I broke down sobbing.

 

“Oh, honey….” Harry looked down at the pan and back up at me with pity. “Don’t cry! What is that?”

 

“Cake! What else would it be, Harry?”

 

“I don’ know, Matilda, S’ kinda hard t’ tell at this point…” He laughed.

 

“I’m glad this is funny to you! Go ahead and laugh at my failure!” My screeching had reached fire-alarm levels of high pitched. 

“I’m sorry. Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t be laughing. Ummm, why don’t you set that down so I can give you a hug, hmm?”

 

I did as he suggested and ran straight into his arms. He pulled me into him, rubbing my back and whispering in my ear. “we’re okay. It’s all good, babe. It’s okay.” We stood there  for a while, long after my sobbing had quieted down. “Thank you for my cake, baby.” Harry broke the silence, chuckling. I elbowed him right in the chest but it only made him hug me tighter and laugh harder. “Looks delicious. Really, I can’t wait to dig into it. Jus’ if I may, uh, what…flavor is that supposed to be?” 

 

He managed to make me laugh.

 

“There she is! Yes, no more crying.” He kissed my cheek.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

 

“Hey, it’s alright.”

 

“Not it’s not!”

 

“It’s just a cake, Alice….”

 

I pulled my body out of his arms and sat at the kitchen table. “N-no it’s not! The cake is a metaphor.”

 

“I’m sure it is, baby. But- it’s late, and I’m tired. Explain to me?”

 

“It’s…it’s just the perfect example of my failures tonight. All I wanted was to be romantic! I wanted to cook for you, and love on you, and….” I reached over the kitchen table and handed him a piece of paper.

 

“Love, intimacy, time…” He read out loud. “What’s this?”

 

“It’s a list! Of relationship things you can’t buy with money.”

 

“th-that’s sweet-“

 

“I wanted to give you those things. All weekend. I did my research. You know, about all the healthy things that romantic people do?”

 

“R-research?”

 

“You’re just so good at the lovey-dovey stuff. I always feel so loved and valued whenever you do things for me. I wanted to do the same for you.”

 

“Babe, you did research for me?”

 

“I know, it’s pathetic! I’ve just…never done this before. Loved someone like I love you. Nothing ever feels enough, I…wanted you to feel my love for you. Wanted to take care of you like you always take care of me.”

 

Harry rushed over to me, pressing our lips together firmly. “I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I whispered against his mouth.

 

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He pulled away and grabbed the chair next to me, moving it closer so he was mere inches away, and sitting down. “Listen to me! No, I mean it. I’m the luckiest man in the world…I’m so glad you were thinking of me. I can see that. Really. All the effort you put in? You made me a heart-shaped cake, for fuck’s sakes!” 

 

“Wanted you to feel loved, to rest, to eat a balanced meal. But I burned your house down.”

 

“the effort that you put into burning my house down is what matters.” He laughed at his own words, shaking his head. “Baby, listen. I love that you did all this for me, but you don’t have to try this hard. I certainly wouldn’t want you to do things that don’t feel natural to you, just to make me happy. It’s okay, if you’re not into all this over the top stuff. I don’t expect you to suddenly become someone else just cuz we’re dating now. That’s not who I fell in love with anyway.”

 

“B-but, what about you? Don’t you wish you had someone to spoil you like you always spoil me?”

 

Harry shook his head. “The way I see it, we don’t both have to need the same things, you know? Like, I only do those things because I know that’s what you need to make your life easier, and to make sure you’re safe. What I need looks different, and that’s okay. I don’t cook for you one night then expect you to cook for me the next one. That’s just not how it works.”

 

“H-how does it work, then? W-what do you need?”

“You. No, I’m serious. I’m so happy right now, all I wanna do is kiss you. Because you just said you loved me. Twice in the last 5 minutes. You almost never say ‘I love you.’ I always do it first, and then you say ‘I love you, too.’ Hearing it come from you, unprompted? I’m on cloud nine! Would’ve just been happy calling it a night as soon as I came home, and cuddling in bed with you. You’re the person I want to see at the end of the day. Just wanted you to hold me, and to hear about your day, or just talk about mine. Nothin fancy. Just you and me.”

 

“And I was too caught up with online tips and white chocolate- raspberry cake, and perfect bedroom sex…”

 

“I LOVE that. I do. Shows me that you love me. Now, every time I’m feelin’ down I can just think about this night and I’ll never have to wonder if I’m enough for you. You’ve given me so much just by trying. I mean, you did research just to make me happy! If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.”

 

“It’s the thought that counts?”

 

“exactly.”

 

“Hey, Harry?”

 

“Yes, darlin’?”

 

“I love you.”

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 5 • 40 - Connor Robert

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 5 Masterlist • Next

It’s a cold morning in Marseille, Robert wakes up entangled with Risa. As he shifts around she groans as he tries to get out of her grasp. “Don’t they have rations for another day?” She murmurs.

“I think, but I’d better check on them anyway.”

Risa still has a tight grip on him. “Please stay, just one more hour.”

Robert nods, laying back down with her. “But only for another hour.” He uses his hand to brush away her wavy hair from her face, her pretty green eyes barely opened as they look back at him. 

Running an unwind-safe house isn’t all that easy, especially when you yourself have an unwind part. Some days Robert doesn’t even notice Roland’s arm anymore, and some days he does because of the AWOLs. Risa usually has to come down and lull them back into silence, explaining that he never wanted that arm. 

Robert lifts right arm in the air, staring at the shark tattoo above him. “What’s on your mind?” Risa asks him.

“Nothing really,” he takes a breath, looking over at her again. “Have you been looking at the news from America lately?” 

“Yes, have you?” 

“I haven't really been trying to look at it.”

Risa hums as she lays Robert against her chest. “They’ve been making a lot of rewinds lately, they’ve got two StaHos full of them.”

“Oh, more Cams.” Robert grunts and Risa elbows him in the side. “There’s always been a lot of Cams, didn’t you hear about the army of them on Molokaï?” Robert simply huffs at her.

“They’ve also got Recalls now.” She adds.

“What’s the difference?”

“They're just made of one person, like you, and they get adopted back into their families.”

Robert shifts his head off her chest so he can face her. 

“According to Recall class types,” She continues. “You’d be a Stable Recall.”

“What’s the other ones?” He asks. 

“There’s just one other, Modified, they’re called that because a lot of their parts were missing when they were being built, they used the Biobuilder to get them all back in one piece.” 

Robert looks down to his right arm. “I’m lucky someone like you will never be recalled.” 

Risa laughs. “Well it has been around two years hasn’t it?” Her face straightens. “Even then if he was recalled, it’s not like we’d ever see him again.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Robert gets off Risa, he picks up his phone to see if there’s anything new going on in politics. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” He starts

“What is it?” 

“There’s been a voicemail sitting on here for three months now.”

“And?” 

“I’m scared to open it.” 

“Oh for goodness sake Co- Robert, it’s probably just a telemarketer!” Risa groans, whenever she’s angry or upset with him she has the knack to almost call him Connor. 

“I know, I just,”

“Would you like me to listen to it with you?”

“Yes please.” 

Robert sets the phone down between them as he puts in the password the voicemail starts with a familiar voice.

“Vous avez 1 nouveau message. ‘Hi Con-Robert, Robert, It’s me, Hayden, I’m not actually in France like the unknown number location might give you, I didn't want any of us to be charged. Anyway, I found you!’ The voice says in an almost sing-song way, ‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t easy finding you, you covered your ass very well, anywho, nice catching up! Bye!’ Si vous voulez sauvegarder le message pesser 7, si voulez supprimer le message pesser 1.”

Robert looks up at Risa with a face of pure dread. “Some, someone found us.” He stutters. Risa holds onto him as he quivers. “Someone found us.” He repeats, and Risa combs through his hair, “But isn’t that someone Hayden.” She cooed.

“Risa, it doesn’t matter! Someone found us!” He keeps repeating. 

Risa hushes him, “Robert, if that message has been sitting on there for three months I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, besides, it’s high time someone would be curious enough to wonder where we went.” Risa lays him back down in bed, covering him with the blanket. “You stay here, I’ll go check on the kids today.” She tells him. Robert stares at the ceiling as he hears Risa leave. He should be more confident in her, but she’s not a double agent like Trace was; she doesn’t have intel on the government, and she doesn’t know what they’re thinking. For all they know, his opening of that voicemail could have sent off a hint as to where he was.

Robert hears a knock on the door before it’s opened, he sits up in bed to the sight of Lucas; his eyes encompassed in black makeup. 

“Are we doing anything today?” He asks his little brother.

Lucas shakes his head “Nah, just felt like putting makeup on.” He leans against the doorway. “Gotta second?”

Robert cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah, why? 

“I’ve got something to show you.” He turns around heading to his room as Robert gets up to follow him.

Once in his room, Lucas hands him over a pamphlet. “When the social worker came in today, she handed that over to our parents while gesturing to me.” Lucas comments. Robert reads over the pamphlet Jack’s Canadian Camp, Robert looks up at Lucas. “I don’t get it.” 

“Flip it over and look at its sponsors,” Lucas orders him.

Robert looks at the back, among many generic camp sponsors including a fast food franchise there sits a lone oddity at the bottom. ‘In cooperation with Canada’s free-range camps.’ It reads.

“Pfft, what’s a free-range camp, like, what’s its opposite, a harvest camp?” Robert laughs, Lucas shakes his head. “It is a type of harvest camp, Robert.”

Robert coughs on his own spit. “Huh?!”

“From the research I’ve done, you can either sign up your kid for it like it’s a regular camp, or you can send them there to be unwound, and they won’t even know you’ve signed an order for them until they’re on the table.” 

Robert turns around facing the wall, his forehead and left hand pressed against it. Who’s sick, twisted, mind came up with these places, not knowing you’ll be unwound until it’s already happening? But maybe that’s considered a better place than Divan’s black market plane. Lucas sighs.

“You’ll be happy to know it’s the last of its kind. All the others have been turned into actual summer camps or they became the usual kind of harvest camp.” 

Robert’s forehead is still pressed against the wall. “Why haven’t all Harvest Camps become like that?” 

“I looked that up too, worse merchandise, both mentally and physically.”

The merchandise, the children, the money, of course, that’s all they care about. If people really wanted all of this, they should all be raised as tithes. Then nothing would matter anymore, they could get away with all of this. 

“I don’t mean to break your moody internal monologue, but, do you think that the social worker wanted to be done away with me?” Lucas pipes up. 

Robert stops zoning out, he looks over to Lucas, waving his hand at him. “You are out of the ordinary, there’s no doubt that some people would unwind you if you were their teenager,” He pauses. “I don’t think our parents would ever consider it, I think they learned their lesson.”

Lucas looks doubtful. “And if they didn’t?”

“I’d disown them again, and never accept their apology.” 

Robert looks down at the pamphlet. “At the end of summer huh?” Robert is not an old soul like Sonia was, AWOL rearing doesn’t seem like much of his forte right now, but maybe when he’s older. When he grows weaker and can be seen as nothing more than an old innocent man.

“Nah, you won’t be going here, but I will.”

“Connor…” Lucas starts. 

Robert gives him a dirty look. “Not like that, and don’t call me that either!” 

“So then why would you go there?” 

“To get a point straight one last time, and well, to look like I’m doing something. I’m pretty sure the social worker thinks I’m a NEET.” 

“You sound like that one guy covered in unwind names that stripped naked and started clapping.” 

“Lev, that’s Lev.” He says bluntly.

“You were friends with that guy?”

“Still am.” Robert snaps, annoyed.

“Right, but you‘ll never see him again?”

Robert frowns, “Maybe I’ll write to him someday, you never know.” 

“And when will that be?”

Robert sighs, flailing his arms at Lucas. “A lot of places are vetoing unwinding, maybe Europe will veto it soon.”  

“Sooner,” Lucas smirks. “Or later.” 

Robert scowls, annoyed by his brother. “You’re just a pessimistic sad sack aren’t you?” Robert walks out of Lucas’ room, taking the pamphlet in hand. “I’ll be showing Risa this, I’ll see what she thinks about it.” He waves the pamphlet at him just before closing his door.

Robert heads downstairs, out the back door that leads to the insulated hatch of the basement. Robert opens the hatch and heads downstairs, closing the hatch as he goes lower. The basement is fully finished with a few closed-in areas, it had to be, or else they couldn’t run this safe house like a foster home. Robert was surprised it worked out, as long as the kids received different names, no one batted an eye to it.

Risa comes up to him, “I was right, they’ve got enough rations.”

Robert looks at the girl who sits in the corner, she always sits in the corner, staring into it. 

“I’ve heard her talking recently, she only talks to Justin.”  Risa exclaims, catching his glance.

Robert looks at over Justin, Justin reminds Robert a lot of Roland, he constantly calls Robert a piece of shit. Yet, there’s no creep factor to Justin, he’s just angsty. 

“Si tu la touches je vais te donner un coup de poing!” Robert threatens him.

“Pourquoi je la toucherais? Je n'y vois aucun intérêt.” Justin responds, at least he has no interest in her, unlike Roland had with Risa.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Robert asks Risa, she nods. They head out of the basement onto the dock behind the house. Robert hands her the pamphlet. “It looks like a summer camp, but it’s actually a harvest camp.” He explains, she gasps. “That’s so much false advertising, do you think it’s so that kids just think they’re going to a normal camp?”

“Oh, they will, because it’s free-range, they won’t know their parents have signed an order until they’re already on the surgical table.”

Risa clutches the pamphlet in both hands. “This is ridiculous! At least we knew at the harvest camp we were being unwound!”

“I know,” Robert mutters.

They sit in silence for a while until Robert puts his hand on Risa’s shoulder.

“It’s the last of its kind Risa, after that those free-range camps are gone,” He pauses. “Would you do me the honour of wreaking havoc with me one last time?”

Risa chuckles. “You sound like you’re trying to propose to me.” 

“Well, I am proposing something.”

Risa looks down at the shoreline, smiling. “So, you’d be willing to travel again?” 

“Hey, I mean, we’ve been able to properly immigrate here. Besides, if people see me, they’ll only recognize me as one of Les Frères Saltries.” 

Risa sighs. “I suppose Mademoiselle Wion can go with Robert Saltries to destroy one last chop shop.”

Robert holds Risa in his arms and kisses her on the forehead, thanking her.

[craftycheetah]

Purr Like an Engine Finale

The sunlight shined through your windows, illuminating your cats’ fur, luring them out to sunbathe. It was a quiet day inside, but outside, the streets were lively. Kids running along the streets and people walking along the sidewalk, not an ounce of fear in their bodies.

‘Mrow.’

You turn around, smiling when Cookie Shake trots up to you, Neo not too far behind him. “Good morning, my babies~” You lean down and pet their heads, scratching under Neo’s chin while Cookie Shake tries pouncing on your hand. “Hey, no biting! I’ll go get you some breakfast.”

Cookie Shake follows happily, weaving between your legs while Neo trots in and jumps on the counter above her bowl.

Your phone buzzes on the counter.

You read over the message again, smiling to yourself. Your screen flashes before you put your phone. Afterward, your body sprawls freely on the couch, and you relax into the cushions. After channel surfing, you find a marathon of your favorite show. After a couple hours, you get pulled away by soft knocking from your front. 

“Coming!” You shout. 

You pause the episode, get off the couch and stretch. You notice Cookie Shake sleeping peacefully on the other side of the sofa, and you rub behind his ear. Your feet carry you to the door, a hand coming to your eyes to rub the sleep out of them. You turn the knob and open the door, your demeanor changing upon seeing a familiar face. 

“Hey (Y/N)!” Hitoshi smiles.

Your jaw drops when you see him standing on your porch. “Hitoshi…you’re on my porch. Oh my gosh, what’re you doing here?!”

“I came to see you.”

You step aside, letting him inside. “That’s so sweet! Come in, come in.”

Hitoshi takes his shoes off by the door and places a small bag on your coffee table, noticing Cookie Shake on the sofa. “Oh my goodness, my little man,” he coos, petting his fur. “Is Neo here?”

You point to the kitchen and giggle when Hitoshi walks over to Neo and gets cuddled the second she recognizes him. “Looks like she missed you.”

“i missed her too. So, how’re you doing?” Hitoshi asks, scratching under Neo’s chin.

“Much better. The nightmares are slowly going away.”

“Nightmares? What nightmares?” 

You shrug and sit beside Cookie Shake, who sleeps peacefully. “About a month or so after the trial…I got these weird messages, and I had to go to the police about it. It stopped eventually but the thought of someone getting Tenk—ah , I mean Tomura out terrified me. That little voice in the back of my head saying, ‘He’ll come back for you. He always makes good on his promises.’ It freaked me out, Hitoshi,” you sigh. “Then I kept having this recuuring nightmare where I’d open the door and there he was soaking wet and dishelveled in his jumpsuit. He’d always have this crazed look in his eye. My feet would be stuck to the floor and I’d wake up just as he’d pull me out the door.”

Hitoshi walks over with Neo in his arms and lets the cuddly cat sit in his lap as he gently takes your hand. “I promise that as long as I’m here, you’ll always be safe. Even if that cracked face bastard somehow gets out, I’ll be here to protect you.”

You look at him, his slightly calloused hand gently cupping yours. “Hitoshi…” you mutter.

“You mean a lot to me,” he smiles, stroking your hand. “I don’t know how to put this exactly, so I’m sorry if this sounds cheesy or corny.”

“I won’t judge you. Just take your time and say what you need to say.”

Hitoshi takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright. I've been thinking a lot lately and want to get something off my chest. “The truth is, I have a crush on you. The more I get to know you, the stronger my feelings grow. You have this effortless charm and kindness that draws people in, and I find myself falling deeper with every passing day. These last few months we’ve spent together have been amazing. Seeing you and your fur babies have made my life even better because I got to have you in it. 

“So, (Y/N), I'm putting my heart on the line here and asking if you'd be willing to go out with me?” he asks, giving you a kind yet nervous smile.

You let Hitoshi’s words sink in. ‘He likes me back…’ you think. You gently squeeze his hand and smile. “I’d love that.”

Hitoshi’s eyes widen. “Yo…you’re serious?”

You giggle at his reaction. “I had a crush on you too.”

Hitoshi laughs softly before pulling you into a hug. “Oh my God, I was so nervous you’d say no,” he mumbles into your scalp.

You hug him back and nestle into his shoulder. “I was nervous you’d say no when I finally mustered up the courage to confess,” you admit.

He pulls away and gently cups your face his touch sending shivers down their spine. “I could never say no to you.”

Their breaths mingled, warm and sweet, as they leaned in, their lips a mere whisper away. In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around them faded into the background, leaving the two bathed in the enchantment of their shared connection. As your lips met, melding together in a tender, passionate kiss, a symphony of emotions filled you—an explosion of longing, tenderness, and the sheer joy of having someone who truly loved you.

Once you pulled away, you pant softly. “Wow…” you mumble. “That was…”

“Yeah, amazing,” he chuckles, finishing your sentence.

←prev || Masterlist ||

A/N: It took me a year but I finally finished this SMAU lmao. School kicked my ass and I had almost NO free time. Enjoy and stay on the lookout for the ending to my other SMAU and maybe something new

»Summary: Bikers weren’t necessarily a problem in your city, but to you, they were like the bubonic plague. After running into one of them, you had to ask yourself, are bikers really that much of a nuisance?

Ghost readers don’t get fed!

Taglist: @theebussyqueensblog @milkmademozzarella @mxonigirimiya @kurocantcommunicate @minninugget @readergurl20 @kingsheir

[boyzcatchingfire]

I'm Dying to Go to Christmassy With You ~ Jacob Bae

Summary: After watching the Christmassy music video, I decided to write a little Drabble for my bias and the best Christmassy proposal in the whole video and you can fight me on that.

Pairing: Jacob Bae X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 925

Warning: Mentions of death I guess? It’s basically what Jacob did for the Christmassy proposal thing.

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @rai-scutum

Driving into school, you tried your hardest not to get your hopes up. Your school was hosting a holiday dance before winter break and you were sincerely hoping, maybe even praying a little though you would never tell anyone, that your crush would ask you to the dance. Sure, you weren’t one for dance’s and all the extravagences that came with it, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t go if a certain someone would stop dragging his feet and ask you to go.

Upon arriving at the school parking lot, you frowned when you saw someone lying in your parking spot. You groaned when you found out who it was. Parking in the spot next to it, you rolled down your window and glared at the boy laying in your spot.

“Next time I’m just going to run you over.” You yelled out to him.

Sitting up, Jacob scoffed. “You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”

Ignoring how your heart flipped in your chest you chuckled. Currently Jacob was sitting in a chalk drawing of a dead body that said he was dying to take you to Christmassy. It was definitely macabre and unique, a concept you could get behind. Again, your heart  fluttered in your chest as you thought about how well he knew you because of his Christmassy proposal. He must have put a lot of thought into it. That or Kevin told him what to do. You chose to believe the former as it made the whole thing much sweeter to you.

“Keep dreaming, lover boy. Now get out of my spot. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to be late for class.”

“But I set up all of this and this is the thanks I get?” He huffed. “No. I’m not moving until you answer me.”

“What do you want me to say?” You asked before reading the chalk note on the parking spot. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh.” He teased. “I bet you feel really guilty right now, making fun of me and almost hitting me with your car while I lay here on the cold hard ground.”

You scoffed though your stomach was churning. Looks like someone got the message. You made a mental note to thank Kevin later, as he was the one who offered to tell Jacob to ask you already before you accepted Eric’s proposal.

Turning off your car, you called out, “So are you asking me to the Christmassy dance or not?”

“I am.”

“For reals and honest and truly?” One of your eyebrows quirked up.

He huffed. “Yes! I wouldn’t be sitting out here in the cold if I wasn’t serious!”

Nodding, you answered. “Sure.”

“See, you’re so me-” He paused, his jaw dropping a little before he asked. “Wait, wait, wait, did you say sure?”

You nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I’d love to go with you.”

“Really? Like really, really? Like really, really, really?” He sputtered.

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Yes Jacob! Damnit Jacob, when I said yes the first time, I meant it!”

He let out a small huff of disbelief. “Wow. I seriously can’t believe Kevin was right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

Giving an awkward chuckle, Jacob averted his eyes. “Ah, well, he may or may not have mentioned that you had a crush on me and that I should ask you to Christmassy as soon as possible before you go with Eric.” He grimaced at the utterance of Eric’s name.

You gritted your teeth. “I told him not to tell you about my crush. But does he listen? No, of course not. Why would he do that?”

Laughing, Jacob stood up and rested his elbows on your rolled down car window. “So, Christmassy, yes?”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Duh. I’ve said yes like three times.”

“Good. I’m glad I get to go with my crush as well.” He replied with a wink.

“Oh please. I already knew you had a crush on me.” You teased.

This made Jacob’s jaw drop to the floor. “WHAT! How’d you know? I was sure I was being discreet!”

“Well you weren’t.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me to Christmassy?” He shot back, making you frown.

“Because Kevin said you were adamant about asking me yourself. However, if I knew it was going to take you this long, I would have already done it.” You explained, matter-of-factly.

He sighed. “We need a better friend than Kevin.”

“Nah, he’s sweet.” You mused. “So, are you going to move so I can get into my parking spot?”

“Wait! I want a picture first!” He whined, making you groan as you turned off your car. “Hey, I worked really hard on this! It was also really cold this morning!”

You chuckled as you rolled your eyes again. “Well, it looks good. You know me so well. Crime scenes are the way to my heart, you know.”

He laughed. “Of course I know that! That’s one of the reasons why I love you. You’re not afraid of being unique. Not that that’s a bad thing. And I mean it’s not like I love you. I mean I do, but not like love you love you. I mean-”

Pecking his cheek to shut him up, you grabbed his phone from his hand. “Quit your rambling, lovely, and let’s take a picture so we can tell Kevin and Eric about our Christmassy plans.”

Jacob nodded before saying, “Only if we can get one picture where I kiss you for safe keeping, deal?”

“Deal.”

[bluiex]

(Teacher AU)

Angst with fluff

(So little backstory on this,

Very recently Grian has began noticing that Doc has been cutting his visits shorter, and spending less time with April, when they go out, and how he’d been canceling on picking her more often (not that he’s been picking her up a lot before, and sometimes even forgot) Which eventually leads to this)

While April is being babysat by Scar, Grian is at work, when he gets a text message from Doc.

Doc: hey G, as you may have noticed, I’ve been spending less time with you and April, and I haven’t been picking her up as of late.

I wasn’t sure how to drop this on you, but that was because I’ve been seeing someone else. I’ve been going out with them for about two weeks now and then and I are planning on getting together and moving in together.

Which is why it pains me to say this, but as for next visit, it will also be my last, and I’ll send you $2000k for April’s future college. Please keep this from April until I’m gone, I’d hate her to see her upset, and as much as I know this would make her resent me, I’d rather be that way when I’m not around anymore.

I know you’ll find someone who will provide and take good care of you and April, but I’m afraid that can’t be me anymore.

Im sorry.

…Grian hadn’t realized that he was crying, without a word, he gets up and runs out of the building, leaving his coworkers very confused, it was near the end of his shift anyways. He later sends an email to his boss and business manager (Aka Cub and X) about what happened, they understood, and gave him 2 weeks off.

Once home Grian crashes on the bed sobbing, and begins to wonder what he did wrong. It’s not that he expected Doc to stay single forever, he just didn’t think he’d find someone else this soon.

He suddenly gets a call from Scar saying that he and April were on their way back home.

Grian prepares himself to try everything was fine. They get there April is asleep in Scar’s arms, and Scar idiomatically knows something’s up. Grian’s eyes look like they’ve been crying and his hair a mess.

Once putting April to bed, Scar comes back downstairs to see Grian on the couch. He sits next to and begins to ask him what’s wrong. Grian of course tries to say it’s nothing, but once realizing Scar wasn’t buying, he just takes his phone and shows the message.

Now to say Scar was furious, would be and understatement. How could Doc do this to them, especially April, and to having her not know until he’s out of the picture completely, so he doesn’t has the deal with what? The reasonable backlash from his own daughter face to face?

And not to even go about this in person, but over a fucking text message. What a coward.

But he can’t show his frustration, he had be there for Grian, he was his support right now.

He hugs him, and Grian began to break down again, sobbing and asking Scar what he had done wrong, a what can he do. Which only adds to Scar’s frustration towards Doc.

Scar can only whisper to him that everything was going to be ok, that he’ll help out in any way he can, and offer them to stay at his house for awhile.

Grian thanks him, and says that he doesn’t know how to repay him, to which Scar replies that there was no need.

The next 2 days Scar helps out moving Grian and April’s stuff into his house, not that there was much it. Which he made a note to go spoil them later.

Scar’s house was nicer then April described it, there was four bedrooms each with a walk-in-closet, three bathrooms, two of which were connected to a bedroom. A huge kitchen and living area, to put it short, it was basically a penthouse.

Of course there was Jellie, who was the sweetest, and most friendliest cat Grian’s ever met.

Grian and April make themselves at home, and later are greeted with a whole Indian food dinner.

Needless to say, Doc can go suck it

I refuse to accept this as canon in the au *screaming crying* Doc would never do that to his daughter or Grian in the other au (specifically the one im writing)

I wanna punt this Doc into the sun- my heart *sobbing*

Scar would 100% just spoil them rotten the first week or so they move in. Giving April cute little stuffed animals and toys. Grian getting new cloths and phone (i like to think he had a really old phone that was magically still working lol)

[lyon-amore]

The half of me Chapter 12

Chapter 11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

----A year ago----

Daliah had ignored my messages, so I went to her apartment excited. My heart was beating fast, full of happiness. And since Daliah was the one I'd told everything to, she was the only person who needed to know.

I arrive just as other people exit the portal and let me through, acknowledging who I am—or perhaps they think I'm Daliah—. I run up the stairs and when I get to her door, I knock with my hand, quickly. When she opens, I don't notice and I hit her on the nose.    “Ow!” she exclaims, as she puts her hand up to her face.    "Sorry!" I exclaim frightened "I'm sorry Daliah."    "What are you doing here so early?" She walks into the house and I follow her.    "Early? It's twelve noon and it's Saturday."    "That's why it's early."     I follow her into her room and she throws herself face down on the bed, making an annoyed sound. I go over and lie down next to her, patting her on the back. She turns her head a little and looks at me, still looking tired.    "I hope you've won the lottery or I swear I'll kick you out of my house." she tells me in an angry tone.     I can't stop smiling. I'm too happy. I rest my head in my hands and move my feet in the air.    "He told me." I says, with a happy tone.    "What has told he what who?" She sighs and sits up a little, placing her hand on her head for support.    "The anonymous" I answered and I see how she clears up ", he told me he name."    "What?!" She gets up almost in a jump, leaning on her arms "And why didn't you tell me?!"    "I've sent you lots of messages to meet up and tell you" I replied, and I sit up leaning against the wall ". If you didn't go to bed so late…."    "Well, it was Friday and I don't work on Saturday" she answers with a shrug ". And what's his name? Or her, you know I would never discriminate against you, little sister."     I roll my eyes. Normal, as I have never dated any boy…. But maybe now it will change.    "His name is Jake." I answered with a sigh, while my gaze stayed on the ceiling.    "Jake…" I hear Daliah say thoughtfully "I think I've slept with a Jake once-"    "Daliah!" I scream scared, thinking that maybe it's that Jake. What if it's really her who that message should have been?    "Don't worry, I don't think it's the same Jake" she says to me as she begins to tie up my hair, with a smile ". I think…." I see that she starts to think "And how did you manage to get him to tell you?"    "Well-"    "Please, don't tell me that you told him that you like him and with that he has managed to tell you."     I roll my eyes.    "No, I told him that since he knew mine, I should know his." I replied, letting her know that I'm not being desperate. And because I'm not like that, I'd be embarrassed to tell him that I like him.    "Well done, that's what you should do." She finishes braiding my hair and looks at me, slapping her thighs "Now what?" What are you going to do?    "I…" I bite the inside of my cheek, doubting in telling her " Well, I don't know..."    "So, you ask him if his name, and that's it?" She looks at me snorting.     I look at her embarrassed and she knows right away that something else has happened. Her eyes sparkle with curiosity and she begins to tickle me.    "Are you going to tell me now or I'll kill you laughing!" she exclaimed, making me laugh.    "OK! OK!" I say between laughs, stopping her "He asked me if I'm dating someone."    "Are you kidding me?!" she yells, with a big smile "did he seriously ask you that?!" I nod and I see how she tries to calm down "Okay, well, that's good, at least we have a name and that he's interested in you, but here comes the important thing... His last name? Where does he live? Is everything real what he tells you?"    "Daliah…" I grab the blanket and cover myself with it "Can't you let me be happy without overwhelming me?"    "It's just the opposite, I want you to be happy without you being in danger" she takes the blanket from me and looks at me worried ", you know you're too good MC... I don't want anything to happen to you... and even less with that creepy guy..."     I nod, a little sad. It's true. Maybe he is playing me. Perhaps he asked me because he was interested in me being in the investigation.    "He told me that he found me fascinating..." I answered, and my sister caressed my hair carefully.    "And that's great, but…" she sighs, and she looks at me with a frown "Be careful with him, okay? We still don't know what he has to do with Hannah, don't fall in love with nice words."     I nod again, sighing. Daliah hugs me and strokes my head lovingly.    "You know how much I care for you..."    “Yeah” I say quietly “, I know."     Daliah has become very careful in everything that happens to me, almost as if she is afraid that something bad is going to happen to me.

Although she is supportive of me about getting to know Jake better, I understand that she wants me to be careful.

Because you never know who you're going to really meet when you fall in love.

----Present----

I open the closet looking for clothes to change into. Elliot shouldn't see me in the same clothes. I also look for a cap and sunglasses to hide my face.    "Oh... God... My..." Daliah's ghost is sitting on the bed, looking surprised "Are you really going to do it? You're going to Evergreed?"    "Well, if it weren't for the fact that you're a product of my imagination, I'd ask you everything I need to know, don't you think?" I ask her as I start to change.    "It's not my fault that you've gone crazy talking to my memory" she tells me, placing a hand on her chest, offended ", or maybe it is?"     I shake my head, gathering my hair up and hiding it under my cap. Going to Evergreed was not in my plans, but in the past I stayed in my apartment with the fear that something bad would happen to me if I went to Duskwood, now I have to go to Evergreed to meet this Mike guy and ask about my sister . If he did her a favor, I need to know what it is.

I put my phone in my bag and check my hat, hoping it's on perfectly. I take a breath and put on my sunglasses. Ready to go.

I make sure that a group or someone comes close so that I can mix. A group of people my age approach, shouting and laughing. Once they get close, I stand close to them and put my hands in the pockets of my jacket so the bandage on my hand won't show.    "Who are you and what have you done with my little sister?" Daliah asks me, jumping up next to me in her party clothes, happy about the situation.   << Please, don't see me, please don't see me. >>     I hold my breath as I passed the car. Hoping he won't see me.

It's just a few seconds of stopping breathing.

A few seconds until I passed the car and I can make a detour down another street in the direction of the station.

I bought the ticket and check that no one I know is around. I take off my hat and glasses, letting my hair down, putting them in my bag.    “Admit it” Daliah, sitting on the bench, posing with my glasses and cap “this is the most exciting thing you're going to do in your entire life and you didn't want to miss out on doing it."    "No, it's the stupidest idea I've ever had and Jake's going to be mad at me."    "Ugh... Jake, Jake, Jake... Screw him, he doesn't control you. Enjoy this secret agent moment!" She lowers her glasses a bit and moves her eyebrows in amusement.     I sigh, shaking my head. I'm sure she would find this fun to do, with the secrets she had.

Once inside the train, I sit down and take out my phone, to look for the place that Daliah had talked about in her diary.    "And exactly what kind of place is that?" Daliah asks, leaning into my shoulder so she can see her phone.     I keep getting calls and texts from Jake, but I ignore him. This quest is for someone who knew Daliah closely, Jake's trusted person wouldn't know what to ask for sure.    "Let's see… Two Candles…" I murmur, looking at the Google search "It's a private place, you need to be of legal age to enter" I read, putting a hand to my chin thinking ". Unfortunately, being a private place, there are no photos of the place inside, only outside."    "And what is it like?"    "Well… It has a giant neon at the entrance with the name of the place and two candles as if they formed the number five in Roman" I zoom in on the photo, examining the entrance better ". It has a double door, but the circular windows are opaque, and the local color is red wine."    "I wonder what kind of place it would be..."    "Me too, especially why you went to a place in Evergreed knowing that it's dangerous."     I look at the man in front of me who looks at me strange for talking to himself. I cringe in place, embarrassed. He must think I'm crazy and I don't blame him. I am falling further and further down my descent into my madness.

In a few minutes we reached the Evergreed station. Several young people and some older ones are quite lively, shouting and pushing excited to have arrived. In the search for Two Candles, I click on the icon for how to get there and it shows me the route that I can walk. I think I'll be there in time to meet this Mike guy.

I keep my eyes on my phone and the streets, following the route. Some people look at me and I keep my phone and my bag against my body, to avoid being robbed. I hear some screams in Korean and out of curiosity, I turn my head to look. They come from a restaurant. A young boy comes out of there and leans against the wall, with his hands on his head. Better not distract me.

I arrive at the place and it is just like in the photo, although the lights of the place illuminate it more from the outside, drawing the attention of the people who are entering. I put my phone away and go over to open the doors. Inside, the reception area has leopard-print walls. I’m not an expert in decoration, but it is…. Pretty tacky.    "MC! Girl!” The receptionist comes out of her place and hugs me.     I remain still without understanding the reason for that hug. How does she know me? I've never seen her.    "This, I don't-"    "Hey, I'm so sorry about your sister" She looks at me sympathetically. She has her hair in a high ponytail, with some small dreadlocks. I see her clothes are quite short and tight ", I understand why you didn't come earlier, it must have been hard."     I remain silent, not knowing what to say. I don't understand what's going on Daliah has come here using my name? Why?    "Sorry, but do you know if Mike is there?" I asked, pointing to the next door at the entrance of the premises.    "He just arrived, he asked if you had already arrived" she looks at me with a mischievous smile, holding my hands "You drive him crazy! What are you two going to do today?"    "I just came to talk to him."    "Sure, talk" she laughs and returns to her post ", I also talk like that on Saturdays."     I shake my head and walk over to the door.    "Hey, what about your mask?" She stops me, waving her hand "You already know that you have to have it inside the place."    "I…" I bite the inside of my cheek, remembering the masks Daliah had under the bed "I'm sorry, because of everything that happened I forgot to bring one."    "Then I lend you one." She walks through the door behind her and returns wearing a lacy red mask.     I took it from her and ran my thumb over it. It's quite… Pretty.    "You already know that here anonymity is important in front of the rest of the clients" she nudges me, winking at me ", in the reserved area, you know that there are no rules, except respect and consent" I put on the mask while she continues speaking "although we know that you and Mike have quite understood it" I nod nervously, noticing how my cheeks begin to burn ". I'm not distracting you anymore, go get him."     She smacks me on the butt and I jump, turning my attention back to the door.

I enter slowly finding many people almost without clothes. Even the waiters wear shiny latex clothes. Ambient music is loud, I can see on the dance floor people jumping without rhythm. I place my hand to the side of my face avoiding watching some couples who are sitting down —what I assume to be couples— kissing and touching each other too much. Although they do not reach more, the girl say that they had reserved, perhaps they would be to have sex? I shake my head, I don't even want to think about it.    "Where are the reserved ones?" she murmured and bumped into a waiter "Sorry!"    "MC! Pretty!" The boy says to me in an animated way "How-" he looks me up and down, putting on a doubtful face. His long lashes collide with his mask "What are you wearing? Looks like you've just left mass."     I look at my clothes. It's normal clothes.    “I'm looking for Mike.” I tell him, ignoring his comment.    "Well, he's where he always is, girl, in the private ones." he points behind him "By the way! You were right, this lipstick suits my skin better."    "Great" I give a thumbs up. Although it is true, it suits him quite well ". Sorry, it's just that with what happened with my sister I forgot where it was."    "Right, poor thing" he shakes his head, making an annoyed face ", let's hope they find the bastard who murdered her, you have my full support in whatever you need" he hugs me affectionately, not taking advantage of me. Even so, he bothers me because I don't know him ". Mike is in reserved number five" he says when he pulls away "Oh! You don't know how much I love that number" he winks at me ", and I like Mike better." he murmurs playfully before leaving.     I try to calm down, going back to cover my face again to avoid continuing to see the couples.   <<I want to leave right now...>>

I get to the reserved ones and take off my mask. I'm looking at the doors carefully. It's a long corridor with dimmer lighting than the colored lights in the club behind and it's pretty quiet. I manage to find door number five and knock. I wait for a while, but no one opens. I open the door and peek in a bit. A dark brown haired man is smoking. He's wearing a jacket with a couple of patches on it, like it makes it look old. He is sitting on the long sofa, in the center, a small table with an ashtray. Red light illuminates the room, and thanks to it, I manage to see a round bed at the end of the room. I swallow hard at seeing it all. He turns in the direction of the door as soon as I opens it.    "MC, I haven't heard from you for a month." he tells me, as he exhales from his cigarette.    "Sorry, are you Mike?" I ask, walking into the room.     The man smiles and stands up, moving closer to me.    "Wow, you start playing early." he says, placing his hand on my waist.     I push it away from him in fear and he raises his hands in surrender.    "Okay, I understand, it's part of the game" he walks away a bit and I look at him nervously "What's the topic today? The good girl and the bad boy?"     I swallow nervously. Now I think that I have done wrong in coming.    "A-actually…" I start to stutter nervously, approaching the sofa, to sit away from him "I… I just came…"    "Hey baby" he stands up and walks over to me, but I crawl away on the sofa "I know, it's been a rough few weeks, but don't worry, daddy's with you-"     I was going to scream when I saw him get on top of me, but someone beats me to it.    "Get away from her!"

*Jake POV*

As soon as MC stopped talking to me, I started to get nervous.

I walk around the room, thinking about what to do. I try to contact her in every possible way, but she ignores me. I cannot go to Rosenschwarz, surely it would attract attention if I went near her apartment, especially knowing that Bloomgate is watching.    "Okay, where is Two Candles?" I say, going over to the computer to look for the street.     I had found out what kind of place it was by doing some research on the computer, so I did not want MC to go there. It is not a place I want her to be.    "Come on, answer MC..." I call again by cell phone to let her know, but she still does not answer me "The shortest route... Come on..." I mutter between my teeth "I am a little far away, but I hope to get there before her."     I gather up my belongings to leave the room. I put on the mask and the cap, and then I put the hood up.

The neighborhood where my hostel is, there are several people who block the street, between shouts and loud music. I am pushing them carefully so as not to make anyone angry, it is not necessary to look for a fight.

I take out my cell phone and look at the route. I will take a little longer than expected, but I hope I will be in time so she does not run into Daliah's possible killer.

I am running through the streets of Evergreed, occasionally stopping to see the path on the map. I have a few minutes to go.    "I really hope you are not here, MC." I mutter, putting my phone away to keep running.

I arrive at the premises and enter, opening the door with a bang, scaring the receptionist. I walk over and bang on the table.    "Has a girl with blue eyes and long brown hair come here?" I ask quickly, but nervous "About your height."    "I'm sorry, but we don't reveal who our clients are." she answers, frowning.    "It is a matter of life and death!" I yelled, taking another hit.     The girl jumps up, looking at me with nervous eyes.    "If you mean MC, she's there... She's in the reserved rooms" she answers and I go to the door of the premises "Number five!"

I enter the disco and I find a lot of people having sexual contact. Just to think that this guy named Mike... I push through the crowd, pushing furiously. Many people get angry, insulting me. I ignore them. I do not care what they do, I have to find MC before I can lose her.    "Hey! You!" I grab a waiter by the lapel of his vest "The reserved ones! Where are they?!"    "Okay honey, say hello first, right?" the boy tells me.    "A girl is in danger! I am not in the mood for jokes!"    "What?" He looks at me worriedly "No, no, that can't be, someone shouldn't be in danger here."    "Well, it is!" I yelled again.    "Then I'll take you, this is something I have to take care of."     The boy with the long eyelashes places the tray on a table and motions for me to follow him, he's going fast, which I really appreciate.

In the reserved ones, I do not hear any noise. I thought so.    "What number is the reserved room where the girl is?" the man asks me seriously.    "Number five." I answered, looking door to door.    "What? But in that number is a friend."     I ignore him when I find the door and open it. I see a guy is on top of MC. My blood boils.    “Get away from her!” I yelled, grabbing the guy by his jacket and shoving him against the wall.    "But hey!" The man I suppose must be Mike yells at me "What are you doing?! This is private!"    I keep my eyes on him. I want to punch him for what he was going to do to her.    "MC, honey, are you okay?" the waiter asks, approaching MC.    "Y-yes…" I hear her reply. Scared. With a trembling voice.     I keep my arm around his neck, not letting him breathe.    "What were you going to do?!" I yelled at him, full of fury.    "The usual!" He answers me as best he can, since I am suffocating him "We know each other! MC! Tell him! You too Rocco! You both know me!"    "Mike is a legitimate guy" answers this Rocco, who is protecting MC "The crazy one here is you, Batman!"     I look at MC, waiting for her answer. She shakes her head, looking at me scared. Her look makes me loosen up a bit until I let go. I do not want her to know this side of me. I could not forgive myself. I do not take my eyes off her. Does she know who I am? The way she looks at me is as if she is afraid of everything that is happening.    “MC Do you know him?” Mike asks as he coughs.     I watch as she opens her mouth, trying to speak. She is confused with the situation. Of course she does not know me. Not unless by the face.    "I think... I think so..." she answers slowly, hugging herself "But I'm not the MC you're referring to" She looks nervously at Rocco and Mike, then at me ". You" she looks at the two men, scared "are referring to Daliah, my dead sister."    "What?" Mike asks confused, leaning against the wall.    "It already seemed to me that you were dressed very strangely today" the waiter replied ", the MC I know wouldn't wear that outfit to come here."     I approach MC, separating her from her waiter. I look to see if she has a wound or if he has done something to her and I notice that she has a red mark on her neck. I clench my fists and walk over to Mike.    "What did you do to her?! You did it without her consent?!"    "I swear I haven't touched her!"    "Stop!" MC approaches me, grabbing my arm "Let him go! Please... Please, Jake..."     Hearing her say my name makes my heart pound. I let go of Mike again, keeping next to MC.    “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” he asks us, looking at the two of us more confused “Because believe me, I'm the more lost of the three of us."    "We are going to sit down" I tell him, my voice cold "and we are going to talk quietly, okay?"    "Yeah, I think that would be for the best..." he nods, pointing to the sofa as he approaches it "Fuck..."     I look at MC and she looks at me still surprised.    “Are you sure you are okay?” I asked, taking her hand.     She nods and I can feel her hand shaking.

We walk over to the couch and sit away from Mike. In front of him. I keep my eyes on him, ready in case he tries to do something. He runs a hand over his neck and laughs.    "Who was going to tell me that in my thirty-three years of life this would happen to me?" He says with a smile "Rocco, why don't you bring us something to cool my throat, I need it."    "It's a shame that I'm going to miss this interesting conversation because of you" the red-haired man points at me, offended ", I'll be back soon."     He leaves and we are left alone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see how MC keeps looking down awkwardly. That Daliah had used her name for this, disgusts me...    "Okay, so…" Mike points to the MC, afraid "You're not the MC- I mean, the MC I know."    "No, that MC was Daliah." I watch as she starts tugging on her sleeve, trying to look at him ". She mentioned you in her diary."    “Really?” He replies, surprised “And were they good things?    “Let us get down to business.” I lean forward, staring at Mike. Still pissed off "Why do you know Daliah?"     Mike scratches the back of his neck, uncomfortable. He sighs and takes a cigarette out of his jacket.    "I met her in a bar" he begins to smoke, passing his gaze over both ", I was busy with the computer and she approached me, wanting to buy me a drink."    "With the computer?" I ask, starting to get suspicious "What is a guy doing with a computer in a bar?"    "Doing little jobs here and there" he lets out a breath and continues ", she just came over, we chatted for a while and well… Then we came here to fuck, she wanted a quiet place."    "That is not what I am asking" I squeeze my hands annoyed, knowing that MC had to hear this from her sister "What are you supposed to do to get Daliah's attention?"    "Wait, first" he points to me doubtfully "Are you a policeman? Is that why you're here?"    "No, I am not a police officer."     He exhales in relief.    "A month ago she asked me for an errand, to make a special virus for her" he shrugged his shoulders while raising his eyebrow ", I asked her what for and she told me it was for her own computer, she wanted to see how good I was doing my job And of course, I made her one just as she wanted."    "And could you tell us how to deactivate that virus you created?" asks MC, hopeful.    "I'm sorry" he shrugs, and we both sigh ", but for that virus I made it so undetectable, I don't even know myself if I could disable it."     I put my hands on my head. Is incredible. I look at MC, concerned by her reaction. She has looked down again.    "But if it's that important, maybe I can try making a program that tries to remove it." Mike looks at MC, knowing that he's also noticed MC's mood "it's just not going to be free or fast."     I squeeze my hand hard. Of course he was not going to do it for free. But this guy is the one who made the new Mydoom mod, I cannot say no then.    "How much?"    "No Jake." MC whispers.    "Let's say…" he rubs his chin, then smiles "how about four thousand euros?"    "We don't accept." she denies.    "Alright" I finally say.    "No!" MC grabs my arm "Where are we going to get the money from?"    “Just leave it to me” I whispered, then looked at Mike ". But you are going to start now, the sooner you start, the sooner you will finish."     He nods and I get up from the couch, taking MC's hand to lift her up as well. Protectively, I put my arm around her shoulders, to keep her close to me.    “MC” Mike says loudly. We stop and she turns her head a little "Know that I never did anything that Daliah didn't want" I hear him take a drag on his cigarette ". She was awesome."     She slowly turns her gaze forward, saying nothing.

I open the door and we leave the room.    "What do you think?" I ask MC "Do you believe him?"    “Yeah” she answers, her voice low “, she had weird taste in guys."     I chuckled at her comment, remembering that she said that Daliah had a thing with Phil.    "Come on, it is time for you to go home." I whisper to her.     MC nods and grabs me by the jacket. I can see how it still trembles. I do not even want to think about the fear that she could have gone through or I would go back to hit that guy for real.

Chapter 13

[autisticsociologymajor]

American Healthcare Summed Up:

In the past week, my doctors have done the following….

Forgot to order my MRI from my last appointment because they “forgot what it was for,” and instead of reaching out to ask, they just……. Didn’t order it…….

Then I paid $150 for an MRI (which would’ve cost somewhere in the thousands w/o insurance) only to find out THEY ORDERED IT FOR THE WRONG PART OF MY BACK!!!!!!!

Why did I need an MRI? Because the last MRI I had saw that my spinal chord is being pressed on by b o n e, and the doctor told me it’s “not a big deal,” even though it causes me debilitating pain. Spinal chord issues are typically something to take seriously. Are they not? Guess not.

I’d have to pay another $150 in order to get the correct MRI images done. There’s no refund. No free MRI for a doctors screw up. Nothing. They fcked up, and I, the patient, have to pay for it.

They forgot to call me for my telehealth appointment. Straight up. 100% just did not fkn call me.

I called them an hour past my appointment time, knowing my doc typically runs late. The front desk first tried telling me about my $7 unpaid balance, as if to insinuate I wasn’t being called because i owe them $7. I said I’d pay it later today & then suddenly their excuse was “well the doctor is running late.”

My appointment was at 10am. I called at 11am & had that conversation. So 12pm comes, then 1pm, 2pm….. nothing. I call again. I get sent to voicemail. I leave a voicemail. And I get no response. Nothing at all. Whatsoever.

I then send a message in the patient portal, knowing they’ll try to charge me $75 for a missed appointment for an appointment THEY MISSED, in order to get something in writing saying I was the one who was never called.

I didn’t get a response until 11pm…. From somebody who just decided to make me an 8am appointment for the next day without even asking if I was available or if I wanted one. They also scheduled me with a provider I’ve never seen, who is also a man, again, without asking and without being sensitive to literally anything at all.

AND THEN I get a message from SOMEONE ELSE at the doctors office at 7am the next day telling me “the doctor tried calling but couldn’t get ahold of you.” BULL. SH!T. WTF.

I had zero missed calls. I specifically made myself available. My call log has zero incoming calls from anybody in the past week. “She tried calling” WHATEVER. They do this sh!t to cover their own a$$es & to get patients to pay missed appointment fees😤

So whatever. I see the new guy I’ve never met and had no desire to see. And guess what. Guess what.

He tells me I need a drvg test because I’m prescribed ADHD medicine and tells me it’s a “DEA requirement.” It’s not a DEA requirement. Know how I know? Because I had to force them to admit it.

Someone else I know who also takes medication for adhd was told the same thing about the DEA by this doctors office. Neither of us have ever been asked this question in the many years we’ve been taking meds for adhd.

It’s not a DEA requirement to be drvg tested if you’re prescribed adhd meds for adhd. I did research and found nothing before I decided to call them again to ask what they’re talking about. I was apparently not the first person to call and ask.

I asked them specifically where the DEA says they require it and suddenly it was “well it’s not so much of a DEA thing, it’s more an office policy.”

It’s an office policy. It’s not even a law anywhere at all.

It’s NOT EVEN A LAW!!??!??? And they’re going around telling patients it’s a requirement from the literal DEA??? FOR WHAT? WHY? Just say it’s an office policy? Sketchy a$$es. I would’ve been more willing to do it if I wasn’t lied to first thing. Now I don’t think I will at all. I shouldn’t have to either. I’ve been taking these meds for four years. I’m diagnosed with adhd. Wtf?

Then she tried to backtrack herself and said “it will be a law in this state starting in January.” IT WONT BE THOUGH! I RESEARCHED THAT TOO! I FOUND NOTHING! WHAT THE FUCCKKKKKK???????

They also tried charging me $1,000 for an ALLERGY TEST because they put the incorrect information in to send to my insurance company. And then tried to tell me they did nothing wrong. I literally had to argue with them to do it correctly.