#I’m glad I heard from you today; once; two hours ago

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[mysteria157]

Undone

nanami kento x black fem reader

wc- 2.8k

warnings- angst, heavy themes, mental health and healing, the fluff that nanami brings.

a/n: I have been feeling like poo these past few days and trying to find my voice in writing. So I created a little drabble that helped me feel better. hopefully, it does for others as well. happy reading

divider: @saradika | JJK Masterlist

He hasn’t heard from you in days.

Granted, that first date was 12 weeks ago, but Nanami is used to the string of texts between you that is consistently pinging—a feat that Nanami never thought to reach. He’s used to the late night phone calls, the FaceTimes that are meaningless because he just wants to look at you. But for the first time, you turned him down.

Three days ago, on the morning of a nice dinner he had planned, you called with a scratchy voice, “I’m just really tired today, but I’ll be shipshape in no time!” You had insisted.

With vigilance sewn into his body since the day he could remember, Nanami notices right away something is wrong. Maybe it was the distant crack of your words. Maybe it was the fact that you cleared your throat once, no—two times to make yourself sound as professional as possible. As if Nanami is an employer and not the man you’ve decided to let into his life.

Regardless, he was as polite as always. Content to change the subject and send you well wishes before hanging up. The meme texted to his phone five minutes later, sweetening whatever sour concoction had manifested in his belly from your phone call. But still…Nanami knows. So he waits.

He waits three days of agonizing silence before a maelstrom of worry finally claws its way to the surface of his pool of impassivity. He stops by the market first and grabs ingredients. There’s a soup recipe you love—a recipe he soaked up like a sponge as he hovered near you in your kitchen during your first date. He’ll make that.

On his way out of the market, his eyes catch a bouquet of Asian lilies. Sunset orange petals adorned with long dark stamen. He picks up a modest bouquet—something large enough to make you smile every time you see them, but not too much to make you sneeze from your allergies.

It’s 6:47 PM when Nanami’s shoes touch your welcome mat. Even as his eyes trace the tawny ‘Welcome!’ made of coir, he can feel the unease wafting from behind your closed door. Your spare key rests in his closed hand, the metal digging into his palm in a silent question. You insisted that it wasn’t too soon in the relationship for this, to have access to each other in this way. After all, finally opening his heart to love after keeping it locked behind the demands of work, Nanami wanted to take things slowly. But you had other plans—you always do. And now, Nanami is glad to have relented so quickly when you gave him the spare key two weeks ago.

You’re a tidy person, meticulous to a fault. So it’s easy for him to spot the littering of disarray. The curtains are drawn tight, casting your home into darkness. A trail of clothes starts from the door and trails to your room. There are dirty dishes in your sink—you hate going to bed with a messy kitchen. The air is permeable—a physical being that Nanami can see the particles as they float and scurry with his movements through your home.

He finds you in your room, a tornado of dirty clothes and empty takeout containers, three blankets deep, with only the top of your hair visible. The air is just as stale in here—heavy with the kind of silence that comes to life from too many hours alone with dark thoughts. Your phone lies on your nightstand, face-down, notifications from others probably neglected along with Nanami’s. He hates the sight, angry at whatever malevolent force that’s decided to torment you, and now he fights it.

The rustle of Nanami setting his things down makes you stir, the lump of covers oscillating with your movements as a flash of your melanin-rich skin pokes from the dark hole where you reside. Your eyes meet his—surprised, alarmed, and immediately angry.

“Get out,” you snap, your voice gravelly from disuse. Through the curtain of your textured hair, Nanami catches a sliver of your icy gaze, foggy with the heaviness he can smell in the room. He takes a step closer, and it’s a step too far. Your tired eyes widen with a simmering fury that makes Nanami think twice.

“Why can’t you listen?! You can’t be here…” you stop short, squeezing the covers around your already decaying form like a lifeline. “Not when I’m—like this.”

He takes another cautious step—your eyes narrow, a weak challenge—then another until he sits at the edge of your bed. The dip from his weight causes your feet to curve into the cavern, toes touching his thighs from beneath your covers.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The still air seems to vibrate from your fury, dust motes zipping haphazardly as if being pulled back and forth by an invisible force.

“Call you? Call you?? So you could see this? So you could see how I can’t even—“A lump of confusion and rage dies in your throat, the sound gurgling like a sewage pipe. His hands clasp the blanket that covers your shoulders, pulling you up gently with no resistance. You want to smack his hands away, to yell at him to leave and never come back. Because you’re not ready for him to see you like this. Not yet.

But despite the bark of your bite, you’re exhausted—mentally and physically.

“I wanted to wait a few weeks,” you ramble, eyes turned away from him as you shiver from the cold air on your exposed upper half. You’re still wearing the same shirt from three days ago when you called Nanami to cancel; your eyes had already been filled with tears, your throat suffocating beneath torrential thoughts and negativity that springs to life when you least expect it.

“No one wants to see this so soon.”

“From that statement alone, I’m going to assume the men you dated before were below average in all respects.”

“Everyone expects some grandiose gesture to make all of…this go away. And it’s not that fucking simple.” You don’t acknowledge his assessment. Still rambling, still trying to push him away even as he stands. He pulls you up with him with a firm grip still on your shoulders, his care poking at your defenses with inquisitive fingers.

Your knees buckle, threatening to give out without the reassurance of his hold. Your rambling falls to the wayside, fading into the air around you as you finally comprehend your new position in front of him. Standing for the first time in days, the strength of his hands radiates warmth down to your toes. The room falls quiet, opening its ears to your uneven breathing and the smell of tears.

One beat. Two beats. Three.

“It seems you’re standing now,” he says simply, the low crooning timbre of his voice wafting over your face. You heave in a stuttering breath, suck down his air, and let it fill you from the inside with care you’ve neglected. Nanami doesn’t leave his words open for discussion. There is no question hidden in his matter-of-face statement. There is no undercurrent of judgment.

“A bath.”

“What? Kento—no. I don’t need—I don’t deserve—“ His hand slides from your shoulder to cup your cheek, silencing you with its warmth. You resist leaning into his touch, too embarrassed that he can see you like this—stinky, tired, so utterly crestfallen that you can barely function.

“I’ll draw you a bath. I’ll make you dinner. And once I’m sure you’re at least full and clean, then I’ll go. Until you’re ready for me again.”

Steam rises around you in the bathroom, carrying eucalyptus and lavender from the bath oils you like to indulge in on a terrible day like this one. You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your limbs to bury your head in the gap it creates. Your eyes catch the water droplets on your skin, hydrophobic and suspended in time before sliding into the bath water.

When you turn your head to the side, you catch your living room from the open door. He’s cleaned up—opened the curtains, picked up the laundry, and vacuumed the floors. One of your candles burns bright, the low whir of your washing machine sashaying through the apartment. All things you just haven’t had the energy to do.

It started off small, it always does. One thought—fleeting and infinitesimal—but still heavy with a nervousness that plants in your mind like a maggot, burrowing its way through the meat. Your symptoms are more anxious thoughts, more poor remarks of yourself, more he’s successful who are you kidding? More maybe they don’t like you, why can’t you see that? More once Kento sees this side of you, he’ll never want you again.

More, more, more even though those thoughts hold little evidence to prove true. But for you, those maggots burrow until there is nothing left of you but a hollow shell, a husk that has no choice and no energy but to lay down in bed and sleep the days away until the meat heals again.

Beneath the steam, you can spell the mix of thyme, peeled tomatoes, and garlic. The tomato soup you showed him how to make on your first date. He was inquisitive, watching silently, his eyes falling on yours too often to take good notes. Now, it’s another show of this man you’re growing to love, crafting something for you with his own hands, affection beneath the veil of reservation that he shows everyone else.

It’s too much for you. The tears come quietly, spilling down your cheeks and into the bath water, polluting the love that was used to create it.

You hear his footsteps, padded feet on your now clean floor as he walks into the bathroom and takes in the sight of you. You blink against the rush of embarrassment, too tired to wipe the tears away, too tired to hide a vulnerability you wanted to keep a lid on for awhile longer.

He walks to your sink, gathering product, a hair bottle, and a wide-toothed comb before coming back to you. He kneels beside the tub and rolls up his navy sleeves without ceremony, pinching off his glasses before he sets them on the floor. He’s soft but efficient in the way he rubs your bar soap on your loofah, getting it nice and sudsy. He’s relaxed but observant—his tie loosened but not completely off, his forearms flexing with quelled strength as he washes your back and shoulders, the slight furrow of concentration in his brows as he measures his next words.

“Strawberry and cream cheese danishes.”

“Hm?”

“If I eat one, I’ll want more. So I try to stay away when I can.” Nanami continues, washing the soap off your shoulders before he hands you the loofah. You take it without question, watching him disappear to sit behind you as you wash your limbs.

“After Yu…I would bury my sorrow in work. I worked and worked and worked until my boss forced me to take time off. It’s a sneaky sickness. It likes to watch over you and strike the very moment your guard is down.”

You hear the squeeze of your hair bottle behind you, your snarled strands soaking with rosemary-scented mist in his gentle fingers.

“It’s been years. But when it does hit, that darkness that seems to strangle me and tell me that I should have tried harder, that I should have protected him….I like to go across the street from my home and get a strawberry and cream cheese danish.”

You know Nanami has a sweet tooth. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up from the pies that you like to make, always bringing him a slice to work. You’ve seen the sidelong glance he gives strudel that steams behind glass display cases at the bakery he takes you to. But to imagine him leaving his apartment in the dead of night, wrinkled clothes and bags beneath his eyes, not showered in days—paying for a danish…you hitch a breath, a chuckle squeaking and dying in your throat with a painful lurch.

“Why are you laughing?” He admonishes. You can practically feel the lifted brow and gentle smile on your back. Your skin tingles with the movement of his fingers as he works them through your hair, detangling with rosemary and leave-in conditioner

“Do you buy the three-pack?”

Silence. A pause in your hair before baby hairs flutter from the puff of air he shoots out. You bite your lip to keep the dry smile from forming.

“No,” he lies, playfully.

The heaviness in the air gives way to a light current of brightness from your fleeting smile, from the smell of the tub, and your hair now detangled and loose before shrinkage claims it.

“I’m not sure what’s compelled you to think there’s a proper time to tell me that your thoughts grow dark at random moments in your life. Now, two months from now, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

The declaration wraps around you, sliding down your ajar mouth and curdling in your lungs with certainty, taking root in the muscle for the foreseeable future.

“And if it is alright,” he continues, carding his fingers through your hair to plait it into a single braid. “I would like to love every part of you. Even the parts you try to hide. The parts that make you think that you’re not good enough—for me, or your friends, or anyone else. If anything, being able to be here, right now, is a privilege I’ll cherish.”

When the fresh tears spill over again, they no longer taint the water you soak in. They cleanse, collecting and filtering away the depression and anxiety that claims so much of your life when you least expect it.

After, when you’re clean and smelling of Shea butter that Nanami slathered you in, you sink into your now clutter-free sofa. The exhaustion settles on your bones in a different way. Well earned after a long battle instead of invasive and unasked for.

Your eyes rest on the lovely bouquet of Asian lilies on your coffee table, fresh with stems cut, curling toward you with open petals so you can see the beauty inside. The gesture fills you with more of that feeling, of love that you never imagined to come so soon with a man like him.

Nanami walks around the sofa, a tray that he sets in front of you carrying his own rendition of your tomato soup, toasted sourdough grilled cheese, and a tall glass of water.

“Extra basil?” You ask, lips wobbly around a smile as you take in another form of his adoration that you’ll have forever if he allows it.

“Extra basil.”

When he returns with his own tray, his hair falling over his eyes in a heap of hard work, he offers you a look. A measured look that’s filled with everything he wants to give, an excitement in his warm brown eyes that you can’t wait to see more of. But it’s shrouded in a gentle reservation with gaps only visible to you. Soft smiles for you. Loving touches for you. A beacon in storms that brew seemingly out of nowhere just for you.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against your forehead, a safe place where he can take some part of you while you heal. But you’d like more. So you tilt your head for him, soaking the warmth from his lips that press against yours softly.

Suddenly, your worries, your dark thoughts, your misery that you let keep you beneath your blankets for days all smoothed over from his touch. Satiated until those maggots in your mind wiggle to life again when they’re hungry.

“Marcus didn’t give a rose to Janine.” He says casually as he draws back to his side and turns on the TV, nonchalant as if he didn’t just spend the evening putting you back together with gentle hands and quiet love.

You relax into his side, looking at his arm with teary eyes as he rests it on the couch behind you, offering a blanket of comfort and safety that you haven’t had in a long time.

“Gojo spoiled it,” Nanami continues, grumbling and annoyed at the two syllables of Gojo’s name touching his tongue. He blows at his spoon of soup, eyes locked on the screen, his sharp features colored with flickering blues and reds.

He notices your stillness—of course, he notices—and offers you another kiss on your cheek before turning back to the show.

“I’ll steal his kikufuku as punishment,” you offer, arm shaking with the gentle chuckle he gives in response.

The soup steams in your hands, your hair soft and braided, your body worshiped and clean, Nanami’s heartbeat permeable beneath his clothes as you sink into him and sip your delicious soup.

For the first time in years, you know when the world feels heavy, he’ll be able to lift that weight off of you before it buries you away.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 10: porch swing

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You visited your mother frequently at the sanatorium, as it had been a tough blow to accept that you had to make a life without her. Senile dementia, they said, likely caused by a combination of other illnesses, but that was what it was in the end.

You tried to spend as much time as possible during those visits because, even though you knew she was better cared for there, you didn’t want her to think you had abandoned her. Fortunately (in some way), your mother had found an old friend there, none other than Mrs. Diana Reid. It had been years since you’d seen her, and you felt guilty thinking about how poorly you and her son had communicated, to the point that you never knew her schizophrenia had escalated to the extent that she had to be placed there.

The two elderly women had their good and bad days, but overall, your mother enjoyed the literature workshops Diana taught, and Diana, in turn, loved watching your mother knit. She had even learned to make a few things, including a purple scarf meant for her son, whom you hadn’t seen there even once since your mother began living there.

Diana often talked to you about him, telling you things he mentioned in his letters, and all you could do was feel touched. Once upon a time, when the world was simpler and you were younger, you had a bit of a soft spot for the boy, without realizing that what you felt was called love. It was a childish thing, even silly, you could say, but you often found yourself smiling when you thought of him, and you never wanted to spend the day with anyone else, making him stay at your house until late at night, ending in a sleepover.

You had always been more daring and carefree, so you often showed up with new cuts and bruises. He, so calm and proper, always tried to dissuade you from your impulsive plans, but in the end, he joined in, claiming he only did it to look after you. Climbing trees, hunting for bugs, and looking for trouble were the things your childhood was filled with. And for a sickly, fearful boy like Spencer, those adventures were incredible experiences.

One of those weekends when you could visit your mother, you noticed that you couldn’t see Diana anywhere. You assumed she was in a consultation or busy with other activities, but after a couple of hours without any sign of her, you started to worry.

“Excuse me, is Mrs. Reid okay?” you hoped she hadn’t had any health complications or suffered any incident. “I just… I haven’t seen her today.”

“Diana? Apparently, her son requested permission to transfer her to stay with him a few days ago. But as far as I know, she’s fine, miss.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” you replied with relief. “I was afraid she had gotten worse. My mother and she are friends, so I was worried. About both of them, of course.”

“Don’t worry, she’s in good hands,” the nurse reassured you, slightly moved by your concern. “Has your mother been improving?”

Following that question, the two of you started chatting, and the matter of your mother’s friend was forgotten, at least for that day. Work and other activities kept your mind busy until your next visit to the sanatorium, nearly a week later. You decided to buy flowers for your mother so she could decorate the nightstand next to her bed, along with some pastries to share.

However, it was a huge surprise when you arrived at the courtyard area (where the nurse had told you she was) and saw her sitting at one of the tables, accompanied by Diana Reid and another person you could only see from behind—a head of messy, golden hair.

A strange feeling grew as you approached, one you couldn’t identify until you heard the voice of the stranger. It had become deeper, of course, but it was still the same voice.

“Spencer?”

The man nearly fell out of his chair when he saw you, looking as pale as if he had seen a ghost and equally shocked by your appearance. You thought it was probably silly of him to think he wouldn’t run into you there, but you still found it endearing. His features had definitely changed, making him more of a man and less of the shy boy you had known.

“My dear!” your mother murmured, visibly excited. “Look who came to visit.”

He wasted no time, standing up fully and wrapping you in a happy hug. At first, he feared you might pull away from the contact, but that fear disappeared when you enthusiastically returned the greeting.

“I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too! My mom and your mom have been keeping me up to date,” he laughed playfully. His body felt so soft against yours, giving you an inexplicable sense of security.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice that your mother and Mrs. Reid were looking at each other with complicity, as if they were hiding a secret.

“I brought, uh… something to eat. We can share it.”

Spencer found another chair and placed it next to him so you could sit down, inviting you into the conversation he had been having with the women, which you found fascinating. Every now and then, you would discreetly glance at him and try to get him to talk as much as possible. Although you already knew some things from Diana, chatting with your old friend felt refreshing.

It was uplifting to see both women so calm, and the extra company was so pleasant that the hours passed by like minutes. The afternoon had already turned into evening when you said your goodbyes to your mothers, and as you walked out of the sanatorium, you and Spencer stood there looking at each other for a moment.

Without Diana or your mother there, you both seemed too shy to start speaking, unsure of what to say.

"Did you come by car?"

“No, I was planning on calling a cab to get to the airport.”

“Oh, are you leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of heading back today. I mean… I didn’t expect to see anyone, so…”

“I completely understand! Don’t worry. You probably have other commitments, I don’t want to take up your time.”

“No, actually I bought a ticket for an open flight. So I can take it whenever I want.”

That information carried an implicit invitation, discreet enough that if you squinted, you might miss it, and you didn’t hesitate for a second before speaking.

“You could come over to my place, if you want. Have a drink, dinner, or whatever you’d like. You know, for old times’ sake.”

He immediately smiled, pleased that you had invited him, as he didn’t want to be presumptuous by suggesting spending more time together. After all, he didn’t know if you were as excited about seeing each other as he was.

Spencer happily accepted, and then you guided him to your car, where you set off. You had tried to find a sanatorium close to your house, in case of an emergency, so it only took a few minutes to arrive.

The house, still very familiar to Spencer, was where your mother, your late father, and you had lived most of your life. Now, it looked renewed, as if you had recently painted it, exuding that feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

“It’s still there,” Spencer noted as he glanced at the porch.

Many years ago, when you were children, during the summer heat, you loved sitting on the wooden swing there to eat ice cream in amounts that were probably unhealthy for kids. Apparently, this memory was a fond one for your friend, as he smiled at the sight.

“A while back, we hired someone to varnish and reinforce it. So I guess we could sit here. Like before, huh?”

“Sure,” he murmured, excited by the idea.

You went inside, and once you set down your things, you headed to the fridge to take out some cheese, cold cuts, and crackers you had recently bought, all to pair with a bottle of wine you had been gifted for your birthday.

“I don’t like drinking alone,” you confessed as he helped you carry the tray of food “It depresses me.”

You heard him chuckle as the two of you stepped outside. Night had already fallen over the city, so you turned on the soft, warm light that illuminated the porch and took a seat, with him joining you soon after.

For a moment, once again, neither of you knew what to say. You simply swayed slightly, as if trying to make an idea come to mind, but you decided the best way to break the silence was to pour a couple of glasses. After a while, the wine seemed to make everything lighter, and the two of you began to talk about whatever came to mind.

It was an intimate conversation, almost in whispers, and at one point, you made a silly joke that caused your bodies to lean toward each other by instinct. Your cheeks were already flushed from the wine, not enough to make you lose consciousness but enough to give you a feeling of lightness and confidence.

“Can I confess something?” you suddenly said, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“When I was a kid…” you began, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. But after a second of silence, it no longer seemed like such a good idea. “You know what? Forget it. It’s absurd.”

“No! Tell me,” he urged, thinking you were about to share some kind of embarrassing secret.

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“But promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“I won’t,” he insisted, smiling at you sweetly and giving your arm a gentle squeeze, as if encouraging you. “Tell me.”

You inhaled, then exhaled. And before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out.

“Well, years ago, when we were friends… I mean, I guess we’re still friends, but… I don’t know, I had this huge crush on you. I thought you were so cute and sweet with your big glasses and protective attitude. You never said no to me,” you sighed, reminiscing. “And it’s funny now, I think. To think that I was in love with you when we were kids.”

Reid just watched you, like he would study a puzzle he didn’t quite understand. He seemed… confused? You hoped he wasn’t mad, of course. And suddenly, you felt foolish for having brought it up, thinking you had completely ruined the atmosphere, making it tense and awkward.

Still, you said nothing. You were embarrassed, but at least your consolation was that Spencer wouldn’t be there the next morning to face the consequences.

“Are you kidding?”

“Why would I joke about that?” you exclaimed, hurt when he finally decided to speak. You weren’t looking at him. “It’s just a childish thing, Spencer. I thought it would be funny, but I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just something silly, okay? Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“Were you really in love with me?” he asked, incredulous at the idea and ignoring what you had just said.

“Yes! But like I said, it was years ago…”

“Oh,” he exhaled, sounding almost disappointed. That’s when you looked at him, and it wasn’t hard for you to read him: he was nervous. “Yeah, I guess that was a long time ago, right? We haven’t seen each other in years and… yeah, you’re right. It’s funny.”

There was something off in his words. He sounded deflated, more like some illusion had been broken rather than being upset by what you had said.

Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your judgment, maybe it was the way his hands were fidgeting in his lap, or perhaps even the sad expression that had appeared on his face, but suddenly everything about him seemed to scream one thing. It was as if he were calling out to you, saying: kiss me.

And, impulsively, you did.

It would have been wise to stop after the first kiss, just to check if he was comfortable with it and that you weren’t overstepping. But you didn’t have the willpower to stop. You needed to kiss Spencer.

You kissed him again, and then again, and it wasn’t until that moment that he seemed to snap out of the shock he was in, returning the kiss passionately. Suddenly, you were both completely swept up at the moment, feeling as if kissing each other was essential to moving forward; like it was something you should have been doing for years, not just right then.

“I’m sorry…” he exhaled suddenly, as his hand moved to your waist to pull you closer. “Is this okay?”

“It is,” you nodded immediately, feeling breathless. One of your hands went up to gently brush his hair back. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, almost as if delirious. His eyes had closed, and he looked like he was suffering.

“You kissed me,” he murmured, as if he needed to say it out loud to believe it. “I feel like my heart’s going to burst out of my chest.”

Your fear vanished when you heard him say that, and encouraged by his reaction, you leaned in to kiss him again. However, after a few more kisses, he stopped you.

“Will you visit me?”

“Huh?”

“Will you visit me? When I go back to DC?”

His question puzzled you since you didn’t think it was something he’d ask in the middle of all that.

“I guess… yeah. If you want me there, I could visit someday.”

“You’re not just going to kiss me, and then we’ll forget this ever happened?”

“Do you want that?”

“No,” he sighed shakily. His thumb traced your lips gently as he held your face in his hand. “Do you want that?”

“No,” you replied in the same way, kissing him again.

Although you wanted to, you weren’t going to hint at anything more with your friend, and he thought it wasn’t proper to suggest anything either. So, for a while, you simply continued kissing each other, softly and slowly, as if wrapped in a bubble where time didn’t pass.

“The wine was delicious, by the way.”

“It tastes even better on your lips, I’m sure,” you whispered, lovesick. You kissed him again and then spoke against his lips. “I’m glad you came back.”

You felt him smile.

“Me too.”

[barbiiecams]

„need to know“ was so good omggg!! i literally wanted JD to find out and playfully slap his head „don’t even think about hurting her“💀🫣🤭

good over here

drew starkey x reader, proof im not dead! pt 2 to this.

you and drew have been together (sneaking around) for 2 weeks now. nobody has suspected a thing, and you were blessed to keep it that way.

not only this, but you also befriended odessa. you had your doubts about her, but she was actually chill and didn’t see drew like that at all. thank heavens.

not even she knew about what you two had going on, so currently, this was top secret.

right now you were at his apartment, cuddled up on top of him in the living room and watching princess and the frog on his tv.

“when do you think we should tell everyone?” you randomly said.

drew looked like he was in serious thought for a second. “maybe when your brothers dead? not sure.”

you laughed and hit his chest jokingly, him joining in too. it was still a new relationship, and there wasn’t a single soul to know yet. but you lowkey really wanted to show him off and vice versa.

his hand was massaging your head as the other rested on your back, and it was most definitely making you doze off every few minutes.

but you loved it so much. he was really your peace, and you were glad you didn’t give up on trying to convince him to give you a chance a couple of weeks ago.

you were dozing off a lot, really tired from previous activities. but you ended up staying awake after hearing a knock at the door.

drew’s eyebrows furrowed, signaling that he was just confused as you were.

“were you expecting someone today?” you asked him. but before he could answer, the person on the other side starting knocking again.

“open up! it’s me and austin!” the voice yelled. and you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

JD. your brother.

you couldn’t help the gasp that came out of you, then came drew quickly putting his hand over your mouth.

‘go upstairs,’ he mouthed, and all you could do was comply.

hurrying up the stairs, drew took off the the door. “damn, i’m coming!” he says while taking his time over to the door, just to ensure you were upstairs before he opened it.

you silently listen to their conversation from his bedroom. “what happened to asking if you can come over?” drew says. you can hear austin’s and JD’s footsteps walk into the apartment.

“pfft, like you care. what, you got a girl over or something?” austin teases, and JD snickers.

“what if i did?” drew responds. your eyes immediately roll at the fact he would say that knowing how damn nosy your brother can be.

“oh shit, MYSTERY GIRL, COME OUT HERE!” JD yells out into the house. you hear a slap then your brother saying “ow!” right after.

“nobody’s here, dimwit.” drew shuts him up. you then hear the three of them pull chairs out and sit, and you let out a quiet sigh knowing you were gonna be hiding for a long time.

because of this, you tuned out their conversations. you just used your phone, played with random stuff in his room, and also made mental notes to steal a few of his shirts once you could finally leave.

seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into an hour, and you were still sitting up in his room bored out of your mind. your weekly princess and the frog rewatch shouldn’t have been waiting this long.

you started watching TV in drew’s room, making sure the volume was low enough so that they couldn’t hear it, but also loud enough that you would still be able to.

but it must have been just a bit too loud, because you didn’t even realize that JD was now upstairs using the bathroom.

and you didn’t realize until it was too late.

you heard the toilet flush and the water finish running, but you didn’t even get the chance to process that before you heard your brother’s voice basically teleporting to drew’s room.

“he must still have my damn-” JD cuts himself off when he opens the door and sees you crisscrossed on the bed, frozen at the sight of him.

“y/n? the hell are you doing here? in drew’s room at that?” his face is plastered with confusion.

“umm…” was all you could get out.

“bro drew! why is y/n in your bedroom?” JD calls out to him, and austin immediately starts laughing.

“shut the fuck up.” drew says to austin before hurrying up the stairs. you literally didn’t know what to do. there was no excuse, no reason, no lie you could come up with as in to why you were in his house. let alone his room.

when drew made it upstairs to the entrance of his bedroom, seeing you in the same crisscrossed position you’ve been in, he started laughing.

“the fuck is so funny?” JD starts to raise his voice, and now austin was up the stairs himself wanting to see the scene with his own eyes.

drew walks over to the bed and sits down with you. “i guess we gotta tell him.”

this makes you giggle, “okay.”

“tell me what? don’t play with me. y/n i told you-”

“oh my goshhhh you don’t own me! i can date whoever i wanna date.”

“DATE?” your brother yells and austin’s jaw drops.

your eyes widen but the quickly relax as you put a hand out. “okay first off chill.”

JD was about to respond, but you were quick to start talking again. “years ago when i was 18, i could understand why it would’ve been a little wrong for me to see him. i’m 21, JD. if i wanna date a 30 year old i can.”

you can see drew’s face cringe from the corner of your eye, “well don’t say it like that.” you give him a quick look about his comment and austin busts out laughing once again.

JD glares at his other friend standing beside him then back to you. “i still don’t see how this is funny.”

you get up and walk over towards him. “i know you still see me as an annoying little sister who you need to protect at all times, but im really in good hands! drew is a great guy, wouldn’t you want me to be with someone like him?”

JD doesn’t respond. he just stays silent for a moment before speaking up. “that age gap don’t bother you?”

you shrug then sit back down. “i needed an actual man anyways.”

drew and austin both start chuckling once again when you say that, but your brother doesn’t find that funny and instead his face just shows disgust.

“whatever. that doesn’t explain why you’re in his room? hiding?” he says.

“it most definitely does. because look it how you reacted.” your eyes roll again.

the cat got your brothers tongue once again. but this time, he lets out a final sigh. a sigh that sounds like acceptance.

“does anyone else know?” he asks

you shake your head. “just you guys now.”

your brother nods, getting over his hinge of anger and not staying mad any longer.

“okay well, you can join us downstairs… i guess.” he speaks up after a few seconds of silence.

getting up from your spot and walking over to hug him, you chuckle at his small hesitation to really accept it even tho he has no other choice. you then make your way downstairs, austin and drew following behind you. before drew could leave tho, JD drops him.

“drew, im telling you man. if i ever have to hear her upset or crying over you-”

“don’t worry,” drew lets out a nervous laugh with his hands up in surrender. “she’s good over here.”

—

drewstarkey

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drewstarkey: hard launch

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[cheoliehansolie]

Uno Reverse Card

Summary: Seokmin is the one who constantly surprises you when you least expect it, so you decide it's time to return the favor.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Pairing: gn reader x Seokmin

Warnings: although reader is written as gender neutral, it's implied that they have long hair.

an: This was inspired by blonde Seokmin and it was supposed to come out sooner but I hit a wall, so let's pretend that it came it earlier. If you like reading this, make sure to reblog! If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist

---

“Minnie, I already told you, we’ll meet at your place later. You don’t need to come with me while I just do a bunch of boring errands.” you say as you make your way to the hair salon.

“I know babe, but I miss you. We haven’t been able to see each other for a while because we’ve both been so busy the past few days.”

You hear the pout that is extremely evident in his voice and you can just see the pout on his lips.

“Aww, I miss you too. But I have something important I have to do and as much as I love you, you will definitely distract me. Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” you say, hoping to cheer up your pouty boyfriend.

“A surprise?” he asks, curiously.

“Yeah, but it can only stay a surprise if you don’t come with me while I’m out today.” 

“Fine, I guess we can just meet at my place. But it’s only because you want to surprise me!” he says.

“Okay, okay, listen I’ve gotta go now. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, babe. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” you say as you hang up.

The hair salon comes into view right when you hang up the phone. You couldn’t wait to surprise Seokmin with your new hair later tonight. He was always the one to come home on a random weekday with completely different hair, two weeks ago being the perfect example.

You were sitting on the couch doing a few final touches on the presentation you were supposed to present the next day when you heard a knock at the front door open. Once you opened the door, you were greeted by your sweet boyfriend dressed in gray sweats, a black shirt, and a black beanie effectively covering all his hair.

“Hey baby.” he says as he leans down to meet your lips for a quick kiss.

“Hi Minnie.” you say with a smile as you let him into your place and wait for him to take his shoes off.

“What’re you up to? Did I disturb you?” he asks as the two of you plop onto the couch.

“Nah, I was just working on a presentation for tomorrow. I’ve been staring at it for the past few hours so you coming over was a welcome distraction. I think I would’ve gone insane if I had to stare at the slideshow any longer.” you explain.

“Well then I’m glad that I can take your mind off it.” he says with a bright smile.

“What about you? What’d you get up to today?” you ask him.

“Before we get to that, I have a surprise for you!” your boyfriend exclaims excitedly.

“A surprise? Where is it? You don’t have a bag with you.” you ask, confused.

“Just close your eyes. It’ll make sense soon, I promise.” he says.

“Okay.” you say, bringing your hands dramatically up to cover your eyes.

You can briefly hear some shuffling, but you try not to focus on it too much so you can be fully surprised by the sweet boy sitting next to you.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now!” Seokmin says and you can hear the joy in his voice.

When you open your eyes, your jaw immediately drops at the sight in front of you. Seokmin, you’re sweet, lovely boyfriend that sent you a selfie earlier in the day from the studio with his natural black hair now sits next to you with bleach blond hair.

“Oh my god, your hair!” you exclaim as you shuffle closer to get a better look at his hair.

“What? Do you not like it?” Seokmin asks anxiously.

“Not like it? Baby, there’s no way I could not like it! You look amazing, I’m just shocked.” you say, hoping he could hear the earnesty in your voice.

Your boyfriend visibly relaxes as you bring your hand up to card your fingers through his newly blonde locks.

“How is your hair still so soft after you just bleached it to death?” you ask.

“My hair’s just special like that, I guess.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re so annoying!” you joke as you giggle and gently pull at his hair, making him whine. “I can’t believe that you came home with completely different hair than when you left this morning. It’s literally a random Tuesday.”

“Well, I actually knew a few weeks ago but I decided to not say anything so I could surprise you.” 

“You knew for a few weeks and you didn’t say anything? I’m getting you back for this, Lee Seokmin.” you threatened.

Which brings you to why you’re seated in the hair salon waiting room. In the time that you and Seokmin had been together, you didn’t really change much about your appearance. You liked how you looked and you didn’t really feel the need to change. But when you were cleaning out your camera roll, you came across pictures from before you and Seokmin knew each other.

The pictures included some from a few years ago when you impulsively decided to cut your hair to your shoulders after going through a particularly rough situationship. It had been a while since then and you had forgotten how much you liked your shorter hair. It was also so much easier to take care of than the long hair you currently have. It’s been a few years since you did anything drastic to your hair, so you decided to change it up. 

Your name gets called and you get up to take a seat at the stylist’s chair. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you told the stylist what you wanted and you were so excited to see how this would go.

Not even an hour later, you were staring at your reflection in the mirror and you couldn’t believe how good you looked.

“Oh my god, I love it so much! You did a great job.” you exclaimed to your hairstylist as you played with your hair.

“I’m so glad you like it!” she says with the biggest smile on her face.

“I can’t wait to see Seokmin’s reaction.” you say as you get up from the chair.

“He doesn’t know?” your stylist asks.

“No, I wanted to surprise him. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He definitely will! If he doesn’t, call me and I will personally shave his hair off.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you laugh as you make your way to the exit.

“Thank you, again!” 

“Anytime!”

Once you’re back out in the streets, you can’t keep the smile from appearing on your face. You just loved your new hair so much and you couldn’t wait to show Seokmin.

You still had a few hours before you were supposed to meet Seokmin, so you decided to do a little window shopping until later tonight. But less than thirty minutes into your shopping trip, you feel your phone buzz in your purse. Unsurprisingly, it’s a call from your sweet, clingy (in the best way possible) boyfriend

“Babe~, when are you coming over?” Seokmin whines on the other end of the line.

“Well I finished my big task that I had to get done today and I decided to go out shopping since it finished quicker than expected. I figured I could just window shop until we were supposed to meet later tonight.” you explained as you continued casually browsing the racks of the store you were in.

“If you’re done with your big task, why can’t you just come over earlier?” Seokmin asks, pouting at you for the nth time today.

“I thought you would be busy and you’d have a few things you needed to get done before I came over later so I wanted to give you some time to get stuff done before I come over and distract you.” you say into the phone.

“First of all, I’ve literally spent the entire day sitting on the couch watching the clock waiting for the time that you’re gonna come over. Second of all, I do have things to get done but I can’t get anything done when I know that I get to see you later. Third of all, you are my favorite distraction to have and I would have no problems with you distracting me.” your boyfriend says sweetly into his phone.

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and you hide yourself in a corner of the store to avoid having other people see you all flustered and embarrassed.

“Okay, since I am done and it seems like you’re getting nothing done anyways, I guess I could come over now.”

“Really? Yay! I’ll see you soon then babe. I love you!” he says happily into the phone.

You can’t help the smile from spreading onto your face as you say “I love you too, I’ll see you soon.” and hang up the phone.

As you’re about to leave the store, you see a hair scarf on one of the mannequins and you think that would be the best way to hide your new hair from your boyfriend. 

Less than ten minutes later, you’re leaving the store in the direction of your boyfriend’s apartment, scarf completely covering your hair from view. Once you’re standing in the elevator on your way to his floor, you do a final check of the scarf on your head to make sure no pieces are sticking out. By the time the elevator doors open, you determine that you’re physically ready to show your boyfriend your new hair.

Mentally? That’s another story. You know that Seokmin will love you no matter what you look like, he’s made that apparently clear over the past year you’ve been together, but you can’t help the doubt from creeping into your mind as you make your way to his apartment door. You haven't changed your look much, if at all, since meeting Seokmin and you can’t help but wonder if this will completely change how Seokmin sees you. What if he doesn’t like you anymore?

Before you can dwell on your thoughts much longer, you’re standing in front of Seokmin’s door and you decide you can’t stand there delaying his reaction any longer. So, you bring your hand up to knock on his door. Not even a second later, the door swings open and your boyfriend greets you with the brightest smile.

“Babe! I’ve missed you!” he says once you’ve made your way into his apartment and slipped your shoes off.

“Aww, I’ve missed you too!” you say as you reach up to give him a hug.

The two of you melt into each other's touch and your previous nerves from a few minutes ago seem to immediately dissipate.

“So, where’s my surprise?” Seokmin asks, his excitement evident in his voice.

“So impatient.” you tsk. “I’m starting to think you only wanted me to come over sooner so you could get your surprise sooner.”

“Babe, you know that’s not true.” he whines as he leans down into your embrace.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. Come on, let’s go sit down and I’ll show you your surprise.” you say as you lead him to his couch in the living room.

“Sit down and close your eyes.” you say as you stand in front of the couch, too nervous to sit down.

“Okay babe.” Seokmin says as he grabs a throw pillow from his couch and covers his face with it to prove to you that he’s not peeking.

Taking a deep breath, you undo the scarf and drop it on the coffee table next to you. You feel your previous nervousness bubbling up again, but that’s almost immediately gone when your boyfriend opens his mouth.

Seokmin, still sitting on the couch with his face in the pillow, hears the rustle of fabric and says the first thing that comes to mind, being “You’re not taking off your clothes, are you?” Seokmin asks “Like, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but that’s definitely not the surprise I was expecting.”

“Seokmin!” you exclaim, acting scandalized as though Seokmin hasn’t seen you naked on multiple occasions. “I wouldn’t say I have a surprise for you just to get naked in front of you. Why was that the first thing you thought of?”

“I don’t know! I just heard fabric rustling and that’s what I thought!” he says defensively.

“What if I bought you a shirt and that’s what you were hearing?” you ask, smiling at the fact that he still has his face buried in the pillow.

“Well did you buy me a shirt?” 

“I don’t know, did I?” you counter, sassily.

“Babe, can I please open my eyes now? I’ve been sitting with this pillow in my face for like the past three hundred years.” he whines dramatically.

“Hmm, I’m gonna choose to ignore how factually incorrect that statement is. Okay, you can open your eyes now.” you say.

Seokmin opens his eyes and it’s his turn to have his jaw drop. You had shown him pictures of your hair when it used to be short before you met Seokmin, but it had been a long time since then and the pictures definitely didn’t do you justice.

“What do you think?” you ask nervously as you card your fingers through your newly shorter hair.

“Babe, I love it so much. It looks so good!” your boyfriend exclaims as he gets off the couch to stand in front of you.

“You look so beautiful.” he says softly as he cups your cheek in his hand. “Can I touch it?” he asks, knowing how you normally don’t like it when he touches your hair when it’s been styled.

You nod your head in approval and it’s his turn to card his fingers through your hair. You lean your cheek further into his palm, seeking comfort in his touch.

“Do you really like it?” you ask, still feeling a little bit insecure.

“Of course I do! Do you like it?” he asks you.

“Yeah, I think it looks really pretty.” you say softly.

“Then that’s all that matters. I’ll love you no matter what you look like. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” he says, his blinding smile gracing his lips once again.

You knew he would like it no matter what, but hearing him confirm it to you himself made any last bits of insecurity completely leave your system. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his lips down to yours in a long kiss and you hope he can feel how much you appreciate him.

Once the two of you part, you can practically see the hearts coming out of his eyes and you know for a fact that your expression is the exact same.

“So, how long have you been planning this?” he asks, back to his normally silly self.

“Hmm, I made the appointment at the salon like two weeks ago?” you say, unsure of the exact date you made the appointment.

“You’ve been sitting on this information for the past two weeks and you didn’t say anything?” he exclaims, fake betrayal heavily lacing his voice.

“Now you know how it feels! You’re always the one who comes home with completely new hair with no prior warning. At least I told you to be ready for a surprise when I came over today.” you whine at him.

“Okay, okay, that’s fair.” he says with his hands up. “But, you’ve gotta admit, it’s fun for you, isn’t it?”

“No comment.” you say, as you try to turn around to grab your scarf off the table.

Key word, try. The second your back is turned to your boyfriend, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. Before you can say anything, you feel him push the two of you into the couch and his hands are immediately tickling you all over.

“Admit it! You like it don’t you?” he says, a smile plastered on his face as he continues tickling you.

Your giggles fill the room and you struggle to say, “Fine, fine! I do like it! Can you stop tickling me now?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Seokmin says as he collapses against you on the couch.

Before you can protest that his weight is all but crushing you into the couch, you feel his fingers carding through your hair again and the words die on your lips. Even though you felt like you would suffocate in the cushions of your boyfriend’s couch, you couldn’t bring yourself to break the peace. You realized you were much too content staying here with his fingers in your hair and you wanted this moment to last forever.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

THE MORNING SKY

── Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

CHAPTER ── 3 [ MAKING AN ENEMY (I’LL KEEP YOU SAFE) ]

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | TABLE OF CONTENTS

from here on out, I mention / feature other tributes. click [HERE] for a reminder of who plays who!

this is the longest chapter yet, but it felt odd and too short when i split it up into 2. if you guys would prefer shorter chapters instead of ones this length, let me know!

YOU WERE TERRIFIED FOR ARCHER. From the day you met when you were both just 6-years-old, it didn’t take long for you to declare yourselves best friends. Naturally, Archer developed quite the protective nature when it came to you. And that was exactly why you were so afraid for him.

A few years ago when you were just 15, a boy had shoved you because you said you were glad he wasn’t your soulmate. Unfortunately for him, Archer had witnessed the ordeal. The next day the boy was sporting a black eye and a limp as he cautiously approached you and apologized profusely. He never bothered you again after that.

Another time, just the year prior, you witnessed how quick he was to turn to turn to anger. Never towards you, but to anyone who showed you or him the slightest bit of disrespect. And if did happen to be you that it was directed towards, let’s just say the bullies in district 12 learned to leave you alone pretty quickly.

One thing that had been made abundantly clear was that for the games, there could only be one winner.

Archer was always quick to come to your defense, to put your life before his. You knew talking to him about it would be pointless, and all you could do was hope that he’d put that aside and for once, also worry about his own safety.

To say you were nervous would be the understatement of a lifetime. Even from watching last years games, it was obvious that first impressions amongst tributes were everything.

Make a good first impression, and you’d have most of your fellow tributes wanting to form a temporary alliance with you. Make a bad one and you were more likely to turn them all against you. But on the other hand, your impression couldn’t be too good. Do that, and you’d be labeled a threat. And the biggest threats were often taken care of first.

This was the debate you and Archer were having as you walked to the training facility. It was on the opposite side of the massive property, and a note tapped to everyone’s room doors that morning let them know that mentors would be meeting them there.

“Do you think they’ll have all kinds of weapons for us to practice with?” You wondered out loud.

Archer nodded. “I’m sure. I can’t imagine what other kinds of training we could do. Besides hand-to-hand fighting and weapons, I mean.”

“I know we both want to go for a bow and arrow, but I think we should also familiarize ourselves with everything just in case.”

Turning to look at you, Archer asked what you meant by that.

“Like last years games. I didn’t see any bows or arrows. We should learn to use whatever we can get our hands on.”

That happy feeling returned, and when you looked up, you saw Coriolanus already looking at you, a hint of a smile on his face.

As Archer and Sejanus greeted each other, Coriolanus quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Did you sleep alright?”

You sighed and gave a sort of half shrug. “With how comfortable the bed was, that should’ve been the best sleep of my life. But I was so nervous about today. I did manage to get at least a few hours, though not in a row.”

The 2 of you were joined by Archer and Sejanus, temporarily halting your conversation.

“You two already have other tributes wanting form an alliance,” Sejanus informs you as you head towards the building.

This surprises you both.

“What?”

“Who??”

“Aemond and Cassian. District two. We’re told they liked the show you put on at the reaping,” Sejanus directs this last part towards you. “I’m guessing they mean what you did to Juniper.”

You remembered something you heard at the reaping. “You’re from two, right? Do you know them?” You were immediately wary of anyone who’d want to work closely with you simply because they watched you smear blood all over someone’s face and clothes.

“I—” Sejanus paused, as if considering his next words carefully. “They’re not good people. But you know that district two is known for weapons manufacturing. They’re extremely skilled, probably the best of anyone our age in the whole district. As far as strength and weapons go, you could do a lot worse than them.”

That wasn’t very reassuring, you thought to yourself. You wondered if it was some sort of trick on their part.

Once in the building, the 4 of you were instructed to wait around with everyone else until all tributes and mentors arrived. You were told it was alright to look around, but to not touch anything until specifically instructed to do so.

There was a room dedicated entirely to targets, bows, and arrows. You knew you’d have to refrain yourself from heading straight there.

Another room had walls lined with knives, axes, and spears. The back wall had wooden targets. The 3rd room you looked at had swords on shelves, and mats all along the floors. The 4th room had a more cushioned floor. There were ropes leading up to poles that hung from one end of the room to the other, with rings to hold onto along the poles.

After looking at the rest of the rooms, each one dedicated to a specific way to train, the tributes and mentors were called back to where you’d first walked in.

There was a long speech about how there was to be no actual fighting. For the swords, you could only spar with your fellow district tribute. The bow and arrows, knives, axes, and spears were obviously only allowed to be used on targets. You were allowed to practice alongside other districts, even train together and give pointers, but that was it.

Then it was explained that scores would be kept throughout the 2 weeks. Fighting with other tributes, even verbal arguments, would result in a loss of points. As would mishandling any of the weapons. It’s as mentioned more than once that you did not want to be the tribute with the lowest score.

“Finally, the last two days are for you to show off what you’ve learned to a select panel of judges. This will be one tribute at a time, everyone else will wait outside until it is their turn. You can show whatever skills you wish, and you can avoid any as well. But keep in mind I mentioned that you’re being scored, so I highly suggest utilizing every room. Training ends at exactly five o’clock each evening. After that, mentors will escort tributes back to the living quarters.”

Before anyone had any time to ask questions, you were met with a surprise when Dr. Gaul entered the room. She gave a sort of sinister smile as she looked back and forth between all of the tributes and mentors.

Her gaze lingered on you and Archer, and Coriolanus had to stop himself from saying something. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, there was already at least a small target on your backs. Still fresh in her mind was the stunt that Sejanus pulled sneaking into the arena, and how he and Coriolanus barely escaped.

“I wanted to personally escort you all to the new arena. We’ll go there, and you will have exactly two hours to look around and familiarize yourselves with it. It is a lot bigger than last years. And just so there are no… stunts,” she didn’t even bother trying to hide her glance at Coriolanus, “you will not bring anything into the arena and this will be your only opportunity to see it before the games. After today and until the games start, the arena will be locked and heavily guarded. I do not recommend trying to get in after hours.”

Everyone was then escorted by Dr. Gaul and what seemed like too many heavily armed guards. Led to matters black SUV’s, you all were told to quickly get in, 2 districts per vehicle. There was a brief moment of panic when mentors were told to get in to the vehicles at the front, but when no one was looking, Coriolanus took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He whispered that it would be alright, Archer would be with you and he’d meet you there.

You and Archer headed or the closest vehicle, thankful you were the first pair inside.

“Are these seats taken?”

Almost immediately, you’re set on edge. You only hope that the 2 boys don’t notice you and Archer exchange a nervous glance, but unbeknownst to you, they do.

“Uh — no, go ahead,” Archer answers for the both of you.

“I’m Aemond,” the one with the eye patch says. “That’s Cassian, we’re district two.”

You attempt to seem braver than you feel as you introduce yourself. “ — and that’s Archer. We’re district twelve.”

Not wanting to make any immediate enemies, Archer puts on a smile and holds his hand out to Aemond. Though he doubts you will want an alliance with them, he knows that it would be stupid to piss them off before training has even started.

The district 2 tributes share a brief glance before Aemond smiles and shakes Archer’s hand. You can’t help but feel uneasy at his smile, as you know it probably isn’t genuine. Sejanus’ words play over and over in your mind. They’re not good people.

“You put on quite a show at your reaping,” this time it’s Cassian who speaks to you. “What did that girl do to you anyway?”

“I—” there is clear hesitation in your life.

That smirk returns to both of their faces. Aemond leans slightly forward. “We won’t tell. Must’ve been something serious.”

Not seeing a point in lying, you tell the truth. “The reaping was rigged. That girl got her father, our mayor, to call my name. She thought… she thought that I wanted her boyfriend. I just got mad when she tripped me as I was walking to the stage.”

Aemond does a slow clap, “made for quite the entertainment. I bet you’ve got sponsors lined up already, just from that.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. “They haven’t said anything about ponsors yet.”

Cassian speaks up again. “I would’ve killed her.” He says it so nonchalantly that you and Archer freeze for a moment. But you quickly recover, both of you doing a sort of nervous laugh.

Figuring this was your only opportunity to do so, and since both boys seemed to be in relatively good moods, you ask the question that’s been on your mind ever since you learned the names of the other tributes.

“We’re told each district must submit one boy and one girl to compete in the games. How are you both allowed to represent district two?”

“I volunteered,” Cassian shrugs. “It’ll be fun.”

You feel chills down your spine.

“I volunteered as well,” Aemond spoke next. “My sisters name was drawn.”

“They allowed you to take her place?”

He laughs, although there is no humor in his tone. “It’s all about views for them, especially after last years games. They’d never risk the backlash o and deny a brother the opportunity to go in place of his sister. Plus like Cassian said, it’ll be fun.”

Now your mind is almost surely made up. You don’t want Aemond or Cassian as allies. Aemond volunteering in place of his sister was sweet, but based on Cassian’s initial response it seems like he would’ve done so even if her name hadn’t been drawn. The fact that they wanted to compete in the games and considered killing to be fun? You guessed they’d betray you and kill you and Archer at the first opportunity anyway.

Suddenly, the car comes to a stop and the doors are immediately opened. Archer and Aemond exit first, but before Archer has a chance to turn around to help you out of the car, Aemond beats him to it. Not having another choice, you take his hand and step down.

“Thank you,” you speak softly.

“After you,” he steps aside and gestures for you and Archer to go first.

Anxiety and dread are thankfully overpowered by warmth as you get to the massive entrance to the arena and see Coriolanus and Sejanus waiting for you. Aemond and Cassian don’t get another chance to speak, as their own mentors call them over.

But you once again feel a chill when Aemond turns around and gives you that evil looking smile. “I think we’ll be good friends.”

Before the entrance stands a massive metal detector, along with the armed guards from before, all lined up.

Dr. Gaul makes her appearance and reiterates how important it is that you all follow her 3 rules: 1. Absolutely nothing allowed in the arena today, 2. Be back outside of the arena exactly 2 hours after entering, and 3. No sneaking back in after leaving.

Just as everyone lines up to go through the metal detector, you, Archer, Coriolanus, and Sejanus agree that you and Coriolanus will go off separately from the other 2 boys. That way more ground will be covered when exploring the arena. And after going back and training for a couple of hours, the 4 of you will head straight back to yours and Archer’s room to begin strategizing.

One by one, mentors, and then tributes, walk through the metal detector. Anything that set it off, small watches included, were removed and kept in a box held by one of the guards.

“Now, I give you all my latest creation come to life.” Dr. Gaul motions towards the giant doors. 2 of the guards walk ahead and open them, and everyone is finally given permission to enter.

The arena looks ginormous. But what amazed you the most was that there appeared to be seasons in each section. Part of the arena had heavy snow, part was clearly intended to be fall with the leaves on the ground pretty shades of red and orange, and spring and summer sat at opposite ends.

————this is what i’m picture. major the last of us vibes. abandoned buildings, everything overgrown with vines and trees, etc., and i’m thinking an arena the size of the 3rd quarter quell———

ignore the lockers in the bottom left. just liked the pics to show you an idea of what i mean.

You couldn’t help but gasp. You were meant to survive in this? To possibly win?

“Two hours! Your time starts now.” Dr. Gaul tapped a button on her watch and walked out, leaving the tributes and mentors with the guards.

Coriolanus was secretly grateful at all of the rocks and bumps along the roads and paths. He looked around at the mentors reluctantly helping their tributes, and realized this was a rare opportunity to hold your hand in public. Not allowing himself to overthink, he grabs your hand and begins leading you towards one of the buildings. As much as he wants to spend the entire 2 hours simply being with you, you are still tribute and mentor.

“I thought there’d be weapons,” you look around.

“They’ll probably wait until the games start to bring those in,” Coriolanus tries to contain the feeling he gets from holding your hand.

As you walk around and explore the arena more, doing your best to avoid other tributes and mentors, you begin to strategize.

“If you can get to a bow and arrow, a rooftop might serve you well. Unless tributes are looking up, they wouldn’t see you until it was too late. But they’ll most likely scatter and go running as soon as the first arrow hits, so you’ll be pressed for time.”

“What if I’m not able to get to a bow and arrow? Or—”

After checking to make sure no one else is around, Coriolanus pulls you towards a row of abandoned buildings. He turns around and looks at you. “We’ll figure something out, I promise. Turns out district two weren’t the only ones who liked what you did at the reaping. You have some sponsorship money already.”

You force yourself to nod and seem confident, even if you don’t feel it. After a few more minutes of strategizing and Coriolanus pointing out specific buildings or areas that might be good for hiding, or barricading yourself inside if it came down to it, he begins to feel anxious.

“Are you alright?” You glance at him.

“Yeah, I’m— I’m fine.”

You stop, this time being the one to lead him to one of the few buildings you’d yet to explore. “I know you’re supposed to be the one to help me and comfort me, but we’re soulmates you know. If something is bothering you, you can tell me.”

Coriolanus sighs, not wanting to scare you. “I just don’t want to let you down. I swear to you, I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and help you win. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You give him a sad smile and step closer, putting a hand on either side of his face. “I know you will. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I trust you’ll do everything you can.” You lower your hands and are relieved when Coriolanus reaches out, already missing the physical contact.

Despite wanting to once again stay there and just be with each other, you know that time is of the essence, so it’s only a minute later that you’re back out wandering around.

“ — the fuck where you’re going,” a voice sneers from around a corner.

Coriolanus begins to pull you back towards the direction you’d just come from, but you instantly recognize the voice. You walk around and are horrified to see Cassian looming over Anna, with Aemond leaning against the wall as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“What are you doing?” You step in front of Anna.

“She was in my way. I’m just letting her know to stay out of it in the future,” Cassian smirks. You can’t help but think about how you’d like to slap that smirk right off of his face.

“She’s a child,” you shake your head in disgust and turn around, intending to ask Anna if she’s alright.

A harsh grip on your shoulder forces you to turn around. You’re met with a now furious looking Cassian. “Hey watch who you’re tal—”

This time it’s Coriolanus who intervenes. He shoves Cassian back, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. “Don’t fucking touch her.” Somehow, his voice being eerily calm makes the situation more frightening.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” This time Aemond speaks up. “We saw what happened last year. You couldn’t keep your songbird safe. How are you gonna protect my new friend here?”

Before you can even open you mouth to protest him calling you a friend, another voice interrupts you all.

“Is there a problem here?” You all turn to see Roman approaching. He immediately goes to Anna, who has remained glued to your side. When he bends down, she whispers into his ear, pointing at Aemond and Cassian before you. When he stands up again, he immediately walks over to the district 2 boys. Although they’re tall, Roman is taller.

They glance at each other and shrug, turning around and walking out of the room. When no one but you is watching, Aemond turns around and winks.

“Thank you for helping her,” Roman speaks to you, motioning to Anna who is now stood beside him. “I was wary of if I did not like those boys from the beginning, but now I am sure. Have they given you trouble also?”

You’re hesitant, but decide Roman seems nice enough. “A little. They say they want an alliance during the games but haven’t even given me an opportunity to answer. My answer is no, but I don’t think they know that yet.”

Roman nods. “I would have done more, but I fear the punishment for starting a fight before the games.”

Coriolanus, who as remained silent, slowly reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. You turn to him and smile, “I’m okay, promise.” Roman watches this interaction but says nothing.

“We’ll be on our way,” he and Anna begin to head towards the door, “but thank you again.”

Thankfully, the rest of your time in the arena goes by quickly and uneventful. Before you know it, the guards are calling out a 5-minute warning.

As you and Coriolanus rejoin Archer and Sejanus and the 4 of you begin your walk back to the entrance, Coriolanus’ mind is now racing.

If you hadn’t done so before, after today you’ve surely made an enemy of the district 2 boys. His fight to help you win and stay alive just got that much harder.

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[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Cut Above The Rest

Mechanic!Eddie x Fem!Hairdresser!Reader

Will You Be My Girl? (Part 10) FINAL PART

Summary:Things are starting to look up for you as the prospect of a new job comes your way, and the boy of your dreams has one final surprise for you (sorry I suck at summaries but I didn't want to spoil anything!!)

also I highly suggest listening to this just so you can imagine the same thing I imagined when I wrote a particular scene.

Thank you so much to everyone and anyone who read and enjoyed this fic. Writing it was at times very challenging but it warms my heart to know that even a small handful of people liked this story. 🧡

Word Count:1,988

<- Previous Part

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It takes you about an hour and a half to drive into Indianapolis, the sounds of Shania Twain’s ‘Come On Over’ album filtering through your car’s CD player as you pull up outside of the salon in the centre of town.

The exterior of the building already looks way more fancier than any other establishment you’ve ever set foot in, never mind worked in, with colourful lights and flowers decorating the windows.

You pick up your portfolio from your passenger side seat and make your way to the salon. You push through the door, with a chirpy bell ringing above you as you do.

You approach the front desk where a young girl with long, dark braids greets you.

“Hello, Welcome to Blossom Studios, how can I help you today?” she smiles, her pearly teeth shining between glossy lips.

“Um hi, I spoke to Madison Martin on the phone a few days ago, I have a meeting with her today.” you say confidently.

“Ah yes, of course! You must be Y/n? I heard Maddie talking about you. Right this way.” she smiles as she brings you through the salon’s already busy floor to a small room toward the back.

The girl knocks on the door,

“Hey! Maddie, your girl is here.” she shouts.

“Thank you, Naomi, send her in.” comes the voice from behind the door.

Naomi pushes the door open for you, and ushers you into the small back-room.

A woman with her glossy strawberry blonde hair styled back into a sleek and professional ponytail stands up to greet you.

“Hi, I’m Madison, you must be Y/n, right?” she smiles as she extends her hand for you to shake.

“Yes, that’s me.” you nod politely as you shake her offered hand.

“Well, we’re a bit short staffed at the moment, and we are looking for people to work here on a more permanent basis, and when I saw your advertisement in the library, I thought I’d take a chance on you.”

“Well I’m very glad of the opportunity.” you smile. “If I may, I’d like to show you my portfolio?” you say raising the black ring binder in your hands.

“Of course, I’d love to see your work.” she returns as you hand over your folder.

You sit quietly as Madison begins to leaf through your folder, looking over the pictures of your work, as well as reading through your resume and cover letter.

“I see that you're a very accomplished stylist, and have a very well-put together portfolio. If you’re willing, I would love to ask you to be a part of our styling team.” she smiles brightly handing over your portfolio back to you.

“That would be amazing! I would love to” you cheer.

“That’s wonderful news, of course for the first two weeks, we’ll have one of our senior stylists shadow you, and show you how we do things around here, but I think that someone like you could be a great asset to our team” Madison praised.

“Again, thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity, I promise I’ll give it my all.” you reassure her with a confident smile.

“I’m sure you will.” she shakes your hand once more. “You start Monday at nine o’clock.”

“Nine o’clock it is, I’ll see you then. Thank you again.” You smile brightly as you gather your things back up and make your way out of the Salon.

You get back into your car before breaking into a small victory cheer, thinking how things couldn’t have gone any better for you. 

You reach into your bag to pull out your phone, immediately wanting to call Robin to tell her the good news.

The line rings three times before she picks up, her voice already eager to hear what you had to say.

“Well? Did you get it? Did you get the job?” she babbles out.

“I got the job!” you tell her, beaming with happiness and a wide smile spreading across your face.

You have to hold your phone away from your ear slightly as the sound of enthusiastic screams from your best friend echo down the line.

“I knew you would get it! I told you!” she exclaims, with a cheerful laugh. “Get back here and I’ll treat you to a celebratory drink in The Hideout!” 

“You’re on, Buckley. I’ll see you there.” you say as you end the phone call and begin to make your way back into Hawkins.

“Right, I just got off the phone with Y/n” Robin says, pulling Eddie closer. “So that gives you about an hour and a half to make sure everything is ready to go for when she gets here, okay?”

“Relax, Buckley. I know the plan. I worked it out myself, I’ll have you know.” Eddie replies confidently.

“Okay, so when she gets here, I’m going to bring her in, get a drink with her at the bar, and then you and your boys are on, got it?” She reiterates the plan once more, going through it, making sure every last detail goes as it should.

“Got it.” Eddie nods, his shaggy curls bouncing as he does, before turning to go set up things on the stage.

“Oh! Eddie?” Robin calls out to him. “Good luck.” she smiles giving him a thumbs up.

He rewards her with a thumbs up of his own before setting up the stage with the rest of Corroded Coffin.

You walk into the already busy and bustling Hideout, and surely enough Robin is there to greet you with wide open arms.

“There she is! The girl of the hour” she smiles, bringing you into a squeezing tight hug. “I knew you’d nail it”

“Thanks Rob!” you nod.

“Now how about I buy you a celebratory beer?” 

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

You take the time to enjoy a quiet drink with your friend on a Friday evening, catching up with each other, and just talking about everything and anything.

“Y’know, Eddie’s performing with his band in a bit, shall we head down to the stage to watch him?”

You can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the mention of his name.

You link your arm around Robin’s and make your way over to the seats in front of the stage.

The guitars, drum kit and microphone stand are already wired and set up, as Eddie and the rest of the band make their way on to the stage.

He looks every inch the rockstar you know he is, with his beloved Dio vest thrown over a dark Judas Priest t-shirt. Ripped black jeans and a pair of black DMs complete his look.  He saunters up to the microphone as he slings his crackled red and black guitar across his body.

“Good evening everyone!” he shouts out to the small gathered crowd, earning him a few cheers “I hope everyone’s having a great day! We are Corroded Coffin, and tonight we are here to make your Friday a little bit more metal.” he rasps as he leans into the microphone with a slight chuckle.

Eddie and the rest of the band launch into their set list, playing a few songs from Black Sabbath, Motörhead, and Metallica. His voice is perfectly gravelly and low as he plays along with the rest of the band perfectly.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change things up a little.” he says putting his electric guitar on the stand and reaching for his acoustic guitar and taking a seat on a bar stool that had been placed on stage.

“I’ve recently had someone very special come back into my life, and she's amazing, and beautiful and if I'm being honest, totally out of my league..” he chuckles, earning a few laughs from his audience “so I'd like to dedicate this final song to her.”

The rest of the band take a backseat, as Eddie takes centre stage with the spot-light hitting him, illuminating him in a soft golden glow. 

Eddie’s fingers start to pluck the strings of his guitar in perfect rhythm, and suddenly you find yourself turning to Robin with wide eyes when you immediately recognise the opening notes of Whitney Houston’s Saving All My Love For You.  Your favourite song. The song that you had shared with Eddie all those years ago.

Eddie’s raspy voice joins in, the song being slowed and pitched down slightly, perfectly arranged and to fit the slow romantic vibe of the song.

You watch him intently, with the biggest smile on your face, and when his gaze catches yours in the middle of the crowd he gives you a small wink and a smile, letting you know that he sees you, and every word he’s singing is meant for you and nobody else.

The song ends, and applause is heard all around as Eddie puts his guitar down and leans into the microphone one final time.

“Thank you everyone, you’ve been a wonderful audience, and you guys enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

You turn to Robin as you watch Eddie make his way off stage.

“I’m gonna go see him.” you smile before running off to find Eddie.

“Go get your man, girl!” you hear Robin cheer as you 

“Eddie!!” you shout out as you sprint your way to him before colliding your body with his and wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you can manage. You feel him return your affections as he slips his arms around you and places a kiss to the crown of your head.

You pull away from him, although you find his hands holding their place on your hips.

“You sang my favourite song.” your voice comes out as no more than a whisper as your emotions catch up with you.

He’s bashful under your gaze, his cheeks blooming with a pink flush. 

“I did.” Eddie nods. “There’s this girl I really like and I kinda wanted to impress her.” he chuckles, as his eyes flick down to your lips. “I also wanted to ask her if she would be my girlfriend.” he flashes you that cheeky boyish smile that you’ve come to love. “So, Y/n, Sweetheart, will you be my girl?”

“Yes!” you smile up at him, your heart bursting with love.

“There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Eddie nodded as he looked at you with those beautiful, big brown eyes.

“Oh?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You rise up on your tip-toes to meet him, kissing him with a soft peck to his lips.

“Indeed you can.” you smirk at him, as you pull away from his lips, only to feel him pull you close to his body.

He presses his lips against yours, one of his hands holds steady on your hips and the other weaves its way into your hair, as he kisses you with all the passion that he has for you. Warmth bloomed in your chest at the gentle brush of Eddie’s lips on yours. Kissing him made you feel dizzy, like a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Kissing Eddie just felt right. Like you were always meant to be together like this.

You part from his lips breathlessly with a smile.

“In case it wasn’t already obvious, I love you, have done for a while if I’m being totally honest.” Eddie confesses, his lips curling up in a matching smile.

“I love you too, Eddie.” you nod, taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I love you a lot, actually.”

When Eddie had helped you after you had broken down on that cold and rainy road on the outskirts of Hawkins, fleeing from heartbreak, you never could have imagined that it would lead to this, but you’re glad it did. Forever thankful to your metal-head in shining leather who helped fix your broken car, and helped to mend your broken heart. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @slutty-thevampireslayer @xxhellfirebunnyxx@mmunson86 @avalon-wolf @ali-r3n @jesssssmaybankk @munsonology

[baronessblixen]

Prompt: 9. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas post-ep, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff - all the fixings: Bill Jr. runs into Mulder in the middle of the night and it goes as well as you might expect. (wc: 1,286)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 22: Cookie Theft and Other Crimes

He hasn't been sleeping, but he thinks that if he had, he would be wide awake now. Whoever is coming down the stairs isn’t quiet. Mulder watches and waits. It’s not Scully, he knows that much. She’d never make so much noise this late at night. It doesn’t take long until he sees the culprit. Of course, it’s Bill Jr.

Mulder gets up – quietly – and follows the other man into the kitchen, watching in amusement. This man, who hates his guts, and has threatened to take him down more than once, has snuck down in the middle of the night, to steal one of Mrs. Scully’s Christmas cookies.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” It’s dark, but Mulder sees Bill Jr. jerk, his hand still in the air.

“What in- what the fuck are you doing here?” Forgotten are the cookies. Bill Jr. stands up tall and approaches him. “Did you break into my mother’s house? I’m going to call the police.”

“Your mother knows I’m here,” Mulder says calmly. At least he thinks she does. He knows that Scully knows he’s here. Right now, she’s the only one who matters to him.

“Right. Why don’t I believe you? You weren’t here earlier. I would have remembered seeing you. Are you still not done harassing my family?”

“What is going on down here?” The lights come on and both Mulder and Bill Jr. blink in surprise. Mrs. Scully stands before them with tired, but furious eyes, wearing a big, fluffy robe. She looks from one man to the other, not caring who gives her an answer.

“This punk here-”

“Your sister’s partner,” Mrs. Scully corrects him and Mulder bites back a smile. Bill, however, snorts.

“Did you know he was here? He is sneaking around down here in the dark.”

“Would you rather I be in your sister’s bedroom?” Mulder realizes his mistake as soon as the words have left his mouth. Mrs. Scully isn’t quick enough and Mulder doesn’t even try to move away when Bill Jr. swings his fist at him. There’s a sound that reminds him of stepping on a branch, and the thought distracts him so much, that for a moment, he doesn’t feel any pain.

“William Scully Jr.! Have you lost your mind?” It’s only when Mrs. Scully touches his jaw that he notices the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the throbbing pain that comes with it.

“He deserved it.” Mulder doesn’t argue.

“Go wake your sister, Bill,” Mrs. Scully says while she gets an ice pack for Mulder. “Sit down, Fox.” Her voice goes from livid to gentle.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Scully,” he says.

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “My son overreacted.”

“Did you know I was here?” She nods, holding the ice pack to his jaw.

“Not that Dana told me. I heard you two earlier.” Mulder blushes. There’s no reason to. They didn’t do anything scandalous. “She should have invited you all along.”

“She did. I didn’t want to get in the way of her family time.”

“Fox,” she says, giving him a stern look. “You are family. She missed you. I could see it in her eyes, you know? Not just you. Christmas is hard for all of us. It’s when her father… anyway. With what happened last year, in San Diego, I knew the day would be difficult for her. But she kept saying she was fine.”

“She always says that to me, too,” Mulder mumbles.

“That’s Dana for you. But you’re here anyway. I’m glad, Fox. I’m so glad she has you.” He nods, a lump in his throat. He’s not going to betray a confidence. This is not his story to disclose. He won’t reveal that Scully called him a few hours ago, her voice weak and trembling. She never asks for help. Never. Unless she absolutely has to. All he said to her on the phone was that he'd be there soon.

She opened the door to him and he took her into his arms. No words necessary. He held her as long as she needed it. They talked about Emily, and how she might have grown. How their lives would be if she were with them. Then, she finally fell asleep and he carried her upstairs. He could have left and maybe he should have. But he stayed on the couch, just in case. He’d planned to leave early in the morning before anyone else was awake.

“I’m the lucky one,” he says. “Because she’s in my life.”

Mrs. Scully is about to answer when two quarreling Scully siblings come down the stairs. He wonders how Bill’s wife and his son are sleeping through this.

“This is none of your business,” Scully says, pushing her brother away to get to Mulder. She immediately checks on him, her eyes full of worry. With her face so close, he can still see the redness from when she cried earlier. She’s touching his jaw gently, moving it this way and that.

"He started it," Bill says, but no one is paying attention to him.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” she says, her words brushing his skin. He smiles at her, hoping it’s enough of an apology.

“Well, then he can just leave.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Scully says.

“So?”

“Fox isn’t going anywhere, Bill. He’s our guest.”

“I didn’t invite him.”

“I did.” When Bill wants to say more, his mother stops him. “He will stay here and have breakfast with us tomorrow.” She’s looking at Mulder now and it sounds like a threat. He nods quickly. “Now,” she says with a sigh. “It’s late and some of us are tired. Bill, go back to bed.”

“What about Dana?” he complains.

“She needs to tend to Fox, thanks to you. What were you even doing down here?”

“Oh, you know,” Bill suddenly changes his tune, walking toward the stairs, “I just wanted a glass of water.”

“There’s water upstairs,” Scully mumbles but either her brother and mother haven’t heard her, or they’re ignoring her.

“Hey,” Mulder says once they’re alone. “How are you feeling?”

“I should ask you that.”

“It’s not often that I almost get shot and beaten up in one night. Merry Christmas, huh? But I’m fine.”

“Why did he hit you?”

“Said something stupid,” Mulder says with a shrug. “I caught him trying to steal your mother’s cookies.”

“Well, thank you for guarding them.”

“You said your mother baked them for her church.”

“She did.”

“She would have noticed one missing.” There’s a gleam in Scully’s eyes all of a sudden and she turns to look at the cookies on the table. “Scully, no.”

“We can blame it on Bill,” she suggests.

“He hates me enough as it is.”

“I’ll let my mother know that you made sure neither of her children stole a single cookie,” Scully says with a low chuckle. “You’re gonna be her hero.” Her voice is soft and sweeter than sugar.

“Do you think you can fall back asleep?” he asks, turning serious again. “I am willing to share the couch.”

“I’d love that,” she admits after a pause. “Thank you for tonight, Mulder. I didn’t get to say it earlier. I appreciate it.”

“Even the haunted house?”

“Even that. I know why you did it.” She kisses his cheek and then takes his hand. She snuggles into him on the couch and is fast asleep in no time at all. Mulder closes his eyes and revels in holding her. He drifts off to sleep with the thought that Bill Jr. is going to flip out tomorrow when he finds them entwined like this. He can't help but smile.

[sweetprfct]

Written in the Stars

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are a believer in fate but after getting your heart broken, you had stopped believing it. Until you met Joe. Suddenly, it got you questioning if fate is real or not.

Author's Note: I think I'll publish two chapters at a time as I try to re-edit these parts. :)

Wordcount: 5.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

AUTUMN 2022.

“Sara, I’m getting off work a bit early. I’m stopping for pizza. Let me know if you want some.” You left that voicemail on Sara’s phone for the second time now. 

You were supposed to go out for drinks with your co-worker, Nicola, tonight but unfortunately, Nicola was out sick today due to a bad case of seasonal flu. So, there goes the Friday night plans that you two had. In all honesty, you were sort of glad that you weren’t able to go out tonight because the thought of having to go and change into a nice dress and fixing your hair and makeup was kind of making you feel exhausted. You stood in the middle of the busy and crowded subway car and checked your phone again.

No phone calls or messages back from Sara. 

Seriously, what was that girl doing? 

“Hey, I’m getting off the subway soon. I’ll just get you some dinner too, so I hope you haven’t had any yet. Also, please call me back. You’re starting to worry me now.” You left another voicemail for Sara before exiting the subway car once it arrived at your stop. 

You passed by one of the pizza shops near your apartment building and decided to go inside and order some dinner for you and Sara. As you waited, you checked your phone to see that there were still no messages back from Sara. You knew she left her bookshop café an hour ago, and she didn’t mention anything to you about having some plans for tonight. You were starting to get worried because the both of you usually communicated well with these things in order to keep a clear and relaxed mind for the both of you. Letting out a sigh, you took the two boxes of pizza from the counter and headed to your apartment building. 

You just hoped that Sara was taking a nap or something because it was just unusual for her to do this. Entering your apartment building, you stood inside the elevator, looking up at the ceiling, thinking how you were ready to get out of your work clothes and just sit and relax on the sofa, eat pizza, and watch your favorite show. Stepping inside your place, you saw how the lights were all dimmed, making you wonder why because you and Sara never dimmed your lights like this. Innocently thinking that maybe Sara just left it like this to try something new, you walked in your living room, and your eyes widened in shock. Immediately, you let out a scream from the scene that you just saw. 

“Ohmygod!” You covered your eyes with your hand and looked away. 

You did not just see a half naked man on your sofa. Sara immediately came from under him, also half naked, and yelled, “Ohmygod!”

Without even trying to say or do anything else, you quickly ran in your room, trying your best to look the other way and not see whatever was going on in your living room. You exhaled sharply, locking your door and setting the pizza boxes on your desk. You set your hand on top of your chest, breathing heavily. 

What the fuck?!

Your heart was beating so fast as you tried to process everything that you just saw. This was not the Friday night that you expected it to be. Not a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door, and you hesitated to even open it. You didn’t want to see what was on the other side of it. You heard a second knock and you took a deep breath, covering your eyes with your one hand and opened the door, letting Sara in before quickly closing the door behind you. 

“I’m dressed.” Sara stated. 

You took a peek from behind your hand before dropping your arm completely on your side. You let out a sigh and saw Sara was playing with her fingers nervously.

“I’m sorry I didn’t—” Sara shook her head, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry I thought you were coming home late.”

“I—” You also tried to find the right words, still trying to erase the little show you saw in your living room from your mind. “Nicola was sick, so my plans got canceled— Is this why you haven’t answered your phone? Who is that guy?” 

“We met at the bookshop like four months ago.” Sara bit her lower lip. 

Your eyes widened in shock. You were just hearing and seeing news after news tonight. What did she mean she met him four months ago in the bookshop? Sara hasn’t mentioned anything about this nor have you seen that man in the bookshop at all. 

“We have gone out on dates and well, we kinda talked everyday and flirted…” Sara cleared her throat. “And I didn’t tell you because I thought this was just some stupid thing that wasn’t going anywhere, but now…”

You raised your brow at her. “...And now?”

“Now, we kind of made it official, and I wanted to bring him to meet you.” Sara explained. 

“Oh, okay. So, you decided that it was a good idea for me to meet him butt naked in our apartment?” 

“No!” Sara scratched her forehead. “I didn’t think you would be home early tonight. I was going to let you meet him tomorrow… with clothes on.”

You let out a soft chuckle as you shook your head and stared at your best friend for a moment, who was giving you her puppy dog eyes to forgive her.

“Well, the image of his bare ass is still glued into my brain.” You teased her.

“I know. I’m sorry! I didn’t—ugh!” Sara buried her face on the palm of her hands and shook her head in embarrassment, making you laugh softly. 

“Hey,” You laughed, taking her hands away from her face as Sara looked at you with flushed cheeks. “I’m kidding—Well, not really because it is technically still glued in my brain, but still. It’s okay. I understand.” 

“Really?” She kept her pout on her face.

“Really.” You laughed, “I have one question though… Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” You grinned, pulling her into an embrace. “Then, I’m really happy for you, and I hope he is treating you right. Don’t be like me.”

Sara chuckled softly. “He is. Um… We’ll move into my room.”

You shook your head and said, “You know what, do whatever you want. I’m gonna stay in my room for the rest of the night, eat my pizza and watch Friends.”

Sara’s jaw dropped on the floor, “You’re going to watch Friends without me?”

You gave her an evil smile as you shrugged, unlocking your door and opening it for her. 

“That’s so unfair. Just because I got caught.” Sara mumbled under her breath, walking out of your room.

“Oh, here take this.” You laughed as you handed her the other box of pizza. “You do whatever you want with that.” You teased her as Sara’s jaw dropped on the floor again, stunned by your joke before you closed the door behind you. 

You shook your head at the situation and went to freshen up before sliding yourself under your bed covers. Turning your TV on, you watched Friends and ate the pizza you bought for dinner. It had been a long day, and you surely didn’t expect what greeted you in your apartment when you arrived home.

Though Sara finally has someone that makes her happy, you couldn’t help but smile and be overjoyed for your best friend. She always had put everyone else first, and she deserved someone that would care for her too. You just hoped that this man wasn’t like your ex. That he wasn’t going to break Sara’s heart because you knew how that felt. Losing your whole self after the breakup was not what you wanted for her. Even though you knew she was tougher than you, you still hoped that she wouldn’t know the same pain you felt before. 

Spending the rest of the night on your bed and watching reruns of Friends, you eventually fell asleep and when the morning came, the sun was shining brightly through your big glass windows. The city was already busy outside as you got up from your bed, took your throw blanket, wrapped it around your body and tiptoed towards the kitchen. You could hear some clattering noise going on and realize maybe Sara was already awake. When you entered the kitchen, you saw the man that Sara brought back last night, making some tea.

“Oh.” You paused in your tracks, pulling the blanket closer to you.

The man turned to face you and smiled. His blond hair all disarray, and he was holding one of your mugs in his hand. The both of you stood there for a moment and just stared at each other, thinking about the little encounter you two had last night.

“Good morning.” His English accent slipped through his voice. 

British.

“Good morning.” You muttered, still frozen in your place.

“I’m sorry. Sara told me I could make some tea here in the morning.” He looked down at the mug that he was holding. “I want to apologize about last night.”

You finally were able to move as you walked towards him and opened the cupboard, taking a mug out. “Hm… You mean when I saw you butt naked on my sofa?” You teased him.

You watched as his cheeks flushed, scratching the back of his head, “I’m really sorry about that.”

You laughed softly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “It’s fine. I know.” 

“I’m Wesley, by the way. Wes.” He held out his hand to you. 

You introduced yourself and shook his hand, chuckling softly. You watched as Wes’ eyes caught the Friends poster on your living room and nodded his head towards that direction.

“You and Sara both love Friends, huh?” He asked.

Technically, that poster was yours, and you had that in your dorm room back in college. It was the show that you and Sara first bonded over when you first met and ever since you moved in together, you had hung it up there as a reminder how your friendship started.

“Yeah, we’re obsessed with that show.” You grinned.

“That’s quite funny because my best friend loves that show too.” Wes commented before the both of you were interrupted by Sara.

“Joe?” She smiled, coming out of her bedroom in her fuzzy robe. 

Wes leaned down to kiss Sara on the cheek, making her smile. You couldn’t help but look away, feeling like you were interrupting a moment between them. Though, you also couldn’t help but smile about the fact that they were really sweet together. 

“Yes, Joe. I was just telling her how Joe loves the show Friends like the two of you.” Wes explained.

“Which by the way, you will be watching with me too.” Sara stated, making Wes roll his eyes. “But speaking of Joe, I feel like the two of you would get along very well.” Sara turned her attention to you. 

You saw the smile on both of their faces, and you knew exactly what Sara was doing. She had been encouraging you for a few months now to go out there and date again, but you had refused many times. It was not like you didn’t want to go out there again. You did. But it was hard after Carter. You felt like you couldn’t trust anyone so easily anymore. So, you just raised your brow at Sara, who was grinning at you before she changed the subject and turned her attention to Wes.

“I have to go to the bookshop for a few hours because two of my employees are running late today.” Sara said.

“Okay, I actually have to head home, but I’ll pop by later on. I’ll bring Joe if he’s not busy today.” 

“I’ll come with you. I need to find a book anyway and finish my work.” You said, drinking the rest of your coffee. “And maybe I could help you out serve coffee.” 

Sara nodded her head, “Sounds good.”

Leaving the couple in the kitchen, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up to get yourself ready for the day. Sara’s bookshop café was only two blocks away from your apartment building, and she opened it up the year after you both graduated. It was something she had been wanting her whole life. The bookshop only started off small but once everyone had started coming in, Sara was able to expand it and add a little coffee shop inside for everyone to hang out and feel comfortable. It was Sara’s little baby, and she was always protective and picky with people to hire because she wanted to have someone that she trusted whenever she wasn’t at the bookshop. 

“I know what you’re doing, you know.” You told Sara later that morning as the both of you walked down the street. 

Sara was looking down at her feet, stepping on each crunchy leaf and  laughed at what you said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied, side eyeing you.

“Please. I’m not dumb. I saw that expression on your face when you mentioned John.”

“It’s Joe.” Sara corrected.

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever his name is.” 

“You need to go out there again. I’m not kidding, Joe really is nice. I really do feel like you two will get along really well.” 

“Well, maybe I like what I have right now.” You argued back.

Sara gave you a look as you both arrived at the bookshop café, knowing full well that you were lying through your teeth. You purse your lips as Sara chuckled and unlocked the bookshop doors.

You always loved Sara’s bookshop. The tall shelves and walls were made of dark wood that made the place look warm and cozy, especially during autumn and winter. It was two stories. The little coffee shop was at the back of the store and there was a little lounge area right by it. Upstairs, you could look down and see the first floor of the bookshop. Sara had also made a little lounge area at the back with string lights hanging on the ceiling and little bean bags set on the fuzzy carpet. Though, other than that, most of the upstairs were just a series of tall bookshelves. 

Looking around, you smiled as you adored the bookshop. You couldn’t get used to how beautiful and cozy it was. It has been a few weeks since you came over to the shop due to the fact that your work has been keeping you busy, and you would work late all the time. As you walked with Sara towards the back, you set your stuff in the lounge area and opened your laptop before following Sara behind the coffee counter and helped her set up the coffees.

Back in the earlier days when it just opened, you and Sara used to be so busy just bumping into each other and making coffees for everyone. Now, Sara has hired two people to help her but lately, you have been trying to convince her that she should hire another extra pair of hands.

After setting up everything, you made your way upstairs to find the books that you needed and for a while, you sat at the table and focused your attention on your laptop in front of you until you saw Sara struggling behind the counter. You were quick to get up from where you were sitting, put on an apron and helped her ring up some customers. 

“Don’t you miss working with me?” You teased Sara later that day as you steamed the milk for the latte.

“Yeah, remember when the counter was small and we would just bump into each other and spill coffee all over.” Sara chuckled.

“Sara, you really need to hire one more person. I think you need two more extra hands around here.” You suggested as you watched the crowd of people finally started to go down.

Sara let out a sigh, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. You know how picky I am.” You watched as she opened the fridge underneath the counter. “I’m gonna go to the back and get some more milk. I can handle it from here. Go back to your work, I know you still have some stuff to do.”

“Okay.”

Wiping down the countertops and putting everything back to its place, you kinda missed the rush that it gave you. Sure, you were busy at work but you were always behind a desk now. Though, at the same time, you couldn’t picture yourself being like this everyday. It would stress you out. You honestly didn’t know how Sara was doing it. 

“Hello, may I get a small cappuccino?” 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you finished wiping down the countertops. “Yes, give me one second, sir—”

As soon as you glanced up, you froze in your place and saw him. It had probably been a year already, but you knew that face. You remembered that face. You could tell he remembered you too because he had the same expression as you. His eyes widened in shock and suddenly, a small smile tugged on his face.

“Hi!” He greeted you.

“Hi.” You smiled, nervously wiping your hands with the towel that you were holding. 

Why did you keep bumping into this man? Manhattan was big enough for the two of you to not be constantly running into each other. 

“I didn’t know you work here.”

“Oh, I don’t. I was just helping—”

“These crates are heavy!” Sara interrupted, coming back carrying a crate full of milk. You quickly dropped the towel you were holding and helped her carry it over and set it on the counter. 

“Joe!” Sara exclaimed as soon as she saw him. “It looks like you two finally met!”

Wait, Joe? 

Was this the Joe they were talking about this morning? Was this the Joe who is Wes’ best friend? Your eyes widened at Sara, and you slowly turned to Joe who was smiling at your best friend like they have known each other for a while.

“You’re Joe?” You asked, stunned. 

Joe nodded his head, giving you a warm smile as he held out his hand and introduced himself. As you shook his hand and also introduced yourself, you couldn’t help but wonder how many times you two kept running into each other and you just now were learning his name. 

Joe.

“Where’s Wes?” Sara asked as she started making Joe’s drink.

“Oh, he’s in the restroom.”

Not a few seconds after, Wes came up behind Joe with a big grin on his face and said, “Oh! You two finally met!”

Wes squeezed Joe’s shoulder, while you and Joe stared at each other for a moment. You could see how Joe was holding in his smile, while you looked down and bit your lower lip. Sara and Wes could feel the different vibe that was radiating from the both of you when you gazed up and saw them exchanging looks.

“Okay, what is with the weird vibe?” Wes asked.

Joe cleared his throat as you let out a soft chuckle and said, “We met before.”

“When?” Sara and Wes exclaimed in unison as both of their eyes widened in shock.

You turned to Sara and said, “The night that Carter broke up with me.”

Joe did the same to Wes and said, “When I proposed to Rue.”

“He’s the handkerchief guy?”

“She’s the handkerchief girl?”

Both Sara and Wes said it at the same time again as they stood there and stared at both of you with wide eyes. You felt the blood rushed to your cheeks as soon as Sara mentioned the little nickname you two had for Joe. You told Sara about that night. The night how Joe had given you his handkerchief because he found you crying, and you thought it was weird how both of you had the opposite situations that night. You also had mentioned that you ran into him at the mall the next day. Letting your eyes study both men in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about the little nickname. Then again, Wes and Joe also called you the same thing. So, what were you so embarrassed for? 

Turning to Sara, you could see the playful smile that was slowly curving on her face, and you shook your head, knowing exactly what she was thinking. You were just glad that you were saved by Sara’s two employees walking in the shop because the conversation immediately ended as soon as they entered. Hoping you could avoid this conversation to continue, you untied the apron from your waist.

“I know what you’re thinking.” You whispered at Sara as you passed by her before hanging the apron on the wall. You let her employees take over as you slipped yourself away from behind the counter. 

Walking back at your little table where you had set your things earlier, you sat down and went back to work on your laptop. Joe didn’t take his eyes off of you as he waited for Sara to finish making his cappuccino. Letting Wes and Sara have their own space, Joe grabbed the drink from Sara and paid for it before walking towards where you were sitting at the lounge area. He could see you were focused on whatever you were doing in your laptop, and he couldn’t help but think how you looked beautiful. 

“We meet again.” Joe said as he stood in front of you with a smile on his face. 

You gazed up from your laptop and said, “It seems like it.”

“How are you?”

You bit your lower lip and said, “Better. How’s everything with you? Are you finally engaged?”

Joe sat across from you and let out a scoff, shaking his head. “Um… no. We broke up two weeks after that night.”

You furrowed your brows as you completely stopped what you were doing and gave Joe your full attention this time. “Oh? I thought you said you were working things out.”

You watched as Joe took a sip of his drink and said, “Well, you can’t really work things out when one of you is cheating on the other.” 

You raised both your brows and shook your head. You didn’t know the woman but this was probably the third time that you had judged her in your head. Pushing the thoughts away, you focused your attention back to your laptop. 

“Idiot.” You mumbled under your breath, low enough hoping Joe wouldn’t hear it, but he did anyway. 

Joe smiled to himself as he heard your little comment. Sipping the rest of his cappuccino, he watched you work for a moment. His eyes lingered towards your long hair and the way you typed on your laptop. Then, his eyes fell to your long lashes fluttering, and your sparkling eyes that were focused on the screen. He never noticed it then because his mind was too busy with Rue but watching you sit there in front of him, he couldn’t help but think how stunning you were.

“How about you? Have you yelled at anyone lately?” Joe teased you, knowing that he would be able to see your smile.

He was right. Because not only did he receive a genuine smile from you, a soft laughter also escaped from your lips. It was the first time he saw you smile and the sound of your laughter was music to his ears. The last two times he had run into you, you were upset, and he couldn’t blame you, honestly. He still remembered that night. He remembered how much of a dick your ex was.

You glanced up from your screen and saw the playful smile that tugged on Joe’s face. You could tell he was teasing you as his chocolate button eyes sparkled.

“No, I don’t yell at people.” You said. “That’s just for you.” You added, teasing him back.

You watched Joe laugh at your joke and thought about Sara’s little comment this morning. Maybe she was right. You were able to get along with Joe easily. Interrupting your little conversation, Sara and Wes walked over towards the two of you. Wes’ arm was around Sara’s shoulders as they smiled at the both of you, knowing full well that they were right. You both were getting along quickly.

“I’m quite peckish. Do you want to get some pizza down the street?” Wes asked.

“Sure.” You and Joe said in unison as you closed your laptop and packed your things.

The walk to the pizza shop was only two minutes. You and Joe walked right behind Wes and Sara, and you tried your best to keep your focus on your feet and let them step on the crunchy leaves on the pavement.

Left, right, left right. 

It wasn’t like it was awkward between you two. You just didn’t really know what to say or talk about with him. After all, you two just officially met. Joe was quiet too. He tried to find something to talk about with you but nothing really came to mind. As the four of you entered the little pizza shop, you settled yourself at a corner booth. Wes was the most talkative out of everyone, and you could tell how happy he was. His happiness was radiating out of him. You couldn’t help but laugh and smile at his little jokes and glanced at Sara from time to time. 

She’s happy. 

“You know what? I’m still absolutely shocked over the fact that you and Joe have met before.” Wes said, his attention turned towards you. “What are the odds that I’d meet Sara too?”

Joe chuckled, sipping on his soda. “Wes was completely down on his knees the moment he met Sara.”

As you sat there, you realized one thing. You now just found out about Wes and Sara, but everyone else knew about all of this except for you. 

Even Joe. 

You turned your attention to Sara and asked, “You know you haven’t told me exactly how this happened.”

Sara gave you a smile and turned to Wes and Joe. Both men exchanged looks before Wes said, “So, we were walking down the street after a long day. Joe just finished filming a movie, and I was there visiting him on set, and it started pouring hard outside. We found Sara’s bookshop café and since Joe was already crying that he wanted some coffee because it was cold, we decided to enter.”

“And there was Sara behind the counter making drinks, and Wes just stood there frozen in line and drooling over her. Ever since then, he started coming in almost everyday.” Joe laughed.

“It’s so funny because I started noticing him, and he would come and talk to me. He started ordering a different drink everyday.” Sara added.

The four of you laughed as you saw how Wes’ cheeks flushed. “Hey! I was coming in everyday. I might as well try all the beverages.”

“Well, that took you four months, and you were finally able to let her say yes, did you, mate?” Joe teased, nudging Wes on the side.

“That’s so cute. I’m so happy for you.” You murmured to Sara, who was sitting next to you. “And you said you’re an actor?” You turned to Joe.

“Oh, yeah!” Sara replied to your question. 

“You know, she works at a production company.” Wes added, pointing at you. 

You furrowed your brows, wondering how Wes knew that and figured maybe Sara had mentioned it to him. It wasn’t really something you like to brag about because it was just some normal office work in your opinion. 

“I work at the office. I just do paperwork and… other things.” You shrugged. 

“Do you ever want to work on set or be in front of the camera?” Joe asked.

“No, not really. I mean that would be great, but I don’t think I’m good at that part of the business.”

Joe nodded his head in understanding as the four of you continued to eat pizza and have little small conversations. You learned that Wes was too afraid to actually ask Sara out at the beginning and that was why he didn’t do anything about it, which made Sara think that it wasn’t gonna go anywhere. Joe, however, was able to finally convince Wes to ask Sara out on a date and just two days ago, they finally made it official. 

You thought that story was actually really cute, and you couldn’t be more happier for Sara. Looking at Wes, it seemed like he was also very genuine towards her. When the four of you walked out of the pizza shop that day, Joe and Wes had to go their separate ways since they both had plans, while you and Sara decided that you would spend time together and shop.

“So, I guess I’ll see you around.” Joe said to you.

Wes and Sara were saying their goodbyes a few feet away from the both of you, and you thought this time, there would be an actual chance you would see Joe again. Not run into each other in surprise but actually see him because you knew he would be tagging along with Wes from time to time. 

“Yeah, I guess so. It was really nice to finally meet you officially.”

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, it was nice to finally meet you two… officially.”

“Bye.” You smiled at him before locking arms with Sara and walked in the opposite direction. 

“So?” Sara raised her brow at you.

“So… I like Wes.” You replied to the question you already knew she was asking. “He’s really nice and funny.”

“Really?” Sara’s eyes widened in happiness. Her whole face glowed the moment she heard you say those words.

“Really.” You laughed, nudging her lightly. “Even though our first encounter was a little… traumatizing.”

You both laughed together at your little joke. Sara knew you would never let that subject go now. 

“And Joe?” Sara asked.

“He’s… nice.” You smiled. 

Sara didn’t say or ask anything else as she lightly nudged you on the side, making you stumble a little. As the autumn leaves fell from the trees, both of your laughter filled the streets as you both continued down the sidewalk. 

********

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[wonopia]

THE PHOTOBOOTH | 003. HIS BRILLIANT IDEA

[WC] . 1700 prev ! mlist ! next

it had been about 2 weeks since she’d been tutoring him, and there were several times where she just didn't want nor need to show up.

it started off with simple introductions- and it was true, he is the photobooth guy.

“sunghoon, right?” misaki asked with a clear expression of uncomfort, hands squeezing together in her lap.

he nodded solemnly, “heard your name was choi misaki from jay,” he admitted.

she let out a heavy sigh before turning to him, “let’s get this over with shall we? i heard you were really bad at english and in return your going to teach me a few tips on photography..”

“wait.”

“let me finish please,” misaki said softly, he nodded once again while silencing himself, “i’ve also heard that you have been tutored by many before me, and that the only reason that i’m here and they are not is because of your absence.”

he looked away once she mentioned his previous tutors.

“are you going to say why or do i have to ask?”

sunghoon hesitantly turned to her, “i don’t have time for tutoring,” he said plainly with a straight face although misaki grew more confused.

“i’m sorry, what?”

“i dedicate my free time to figure skating, i can’t waste any time dilly dallying about english exams when i could be on the ice- improving on things i should already be good at.”

for starters, he didn't seem like the type of person to just skip school.

“i’m sure you understand although.. you seem like the type of person that would stick close to their studies,” he mumbled lowly, glancing outside of the glass door, “many people envy you for your high marks and no social life.”

“i know for a fact people don’t talk about me,” misaki retorted, “did you really ask around? i mean we had only just met today not to mention me seeing you, a couple days ago, at the mall.”

“nope,” sunghoon laughed dryly, not nearly sincere as you'd expected it to be, “sara is very fond of you, i guess you have beef with my sister.. such a shame.”

“it’s funny that you're here with me for tutoring, has the thought of asking your sister to teach you english not crossed your mind?” she scoffed.

“which reminds me,” he smirked as if a bulb sparked in his head, “i have some practicing to do.”

she raised an eyebrow at his antics, “with what, your vocab or your skates?”

“my skates!” he smiled proudly, “glad that you knew. see you in the halls,” he waved picking up his bag to head for the door before spinning around to look at her, “unless you’re a fan, i have a game soon and it’d be so funny if i saw you there.”

misaki scoffed, “i am not a fan.”

“bye choi,” and with that he left.

not even half an hour had gone by that they had been in the study room. if you didn’t guess it already, he hadn’t shown up to any of their study sessions which meant misaki wasn’t getting paid. unfortunately, she had already sent her resignation letter to her manager at jamba juice so she’s literally jobless.

with him not checking clocks at the library that meant there was no guarantee that his english was improving.

and yes it has been about a week and a half since their first study session. so much for tutoring when he was just going to waste her time.

“there’s only one thing to do,” wonyoung sighed.

both wonyoung and beomgyu were at misaki’s house squished onto her bed while she laid on her rug.

“and what’s that?” misaki questioned.

beomgyu smiled at her gleaming expression, “glad you asked, let’s go to the car, shall we?”

“and we shall,” wonyoung jumped, hopping off the bed before grabbing her hung jacket and out the bedroom door. beomgyu following right behind her.

“come on, slow poke!”

misaki groaned as she got up to follow the two. when she got into the car, her two best friends were already bickering about something, misa slipping in the backseat.

it wasn’t until they pulled up into the parking lot of the arena did she realize where they were going.

“hey, hey, hey, what are we doing here?” misa exclaimed, peeking her head between they’re shoulders.

“going to plan Z,” wonie sighed heavily while setting the car in park.

“c’mon the competition just started,” beomgyu urged, “plus this is my first time at a figure skating competition!”

he got out of the car, walking to the sidewalk, “gyu is clearly excited.”

wonie chuckled, “that makes two of us. let’s go.”

the competition had started once they found a nice seat in the crowd as the first couple contestants performed, misa never realized how beautiful ice skating was.

it never crossed her mind since it fell in the category of sports- all of which she doesnt care about.

“dang, they’re really good, sunghoon must be nervous,” wonyoung pointed out, it was until a performer slid foward onto the ice, “gosh, that looks like it hurt.”

“i wonder how many times he’d competed already,” misa butted in.

“probably a bunch, he’s a total ladies man,” beomgyu added leaning back in his seat, “oh hey, isn’t that jay and his friends over there?”

the three best friends attempted to squint across the stadium to point out the blurry figures.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the arena, “sunghoon’s as calm as always,” jay mumbled.

“heeseung hyung, you are so dumb,” jungwon sighed, shaking his head before sipping his red slurpy.

“excuse me?” hee asked looking up from his phone, the younger one gesturing to the device in his hand.

“how could you ask him if he’s nervous?” won rolled his eyes, attempting to bring his attention back to the performer.

“well if he let's it out maybe he’ll feel better.”

it wasn't long before it was sunghoon's turn. he stepped onto the ice and you could already tell that he’s used to it. he took off his jacket, revealing a white long sleeved shirt with the back slightly cut as a design.

he skated around the rink a couple times to warm up before the mega microphone echoed his name along all the speakers. shortly after you could hear some fangirl's yelling his name loudly that it echoed in the stadium.

sunghoon smiled awkwardly before circling to be in the center of the rink. almost immediately, he had started his performance.

his moves were neat and looked effortless, even though misa didn’t understand figure skating at all, she knew how beautiful the sport was.

in a way, sunghoon perfected his dance the way he would dance it. as someone who doesn’t know how to ice skate not one bit, misa was purely impressed- she knew sunghoon had a talent for this but she never truly knew how well matched he was with the sport.

she never knew how much time and effort he put into this dance for it to become a work of art. she would never say this to his face but he did very well even with his poor attitude towards school versus his attitude for this sport, he has quite a lot of passion for it.

“sunghoon must be very hard working towards figure skating,” wonyoung spoke up, “he did great.”

the competition was over and sunghoon was ranked second overall.

“figure skating is such a beautiful sport,” misa commented.

“well if you’re really interested in it, you should join a skating class,” beomgyu said before laughing at the thought of her on the ice, “nevermind, i could never picture you ice skating.”

they were walking to the entrance of the building. it was until beomgyu stopped them.

“hey, where are we going?” beomgyu immediately snapped his fingers, guiding misa to the direction of sunghoon.

“go,” he shooed her.

“wait what do i even-“

“just get him to do a study block with you!” wonie whispered/yelled but before she could remark something back the two exited the building.

misa continued to walk to the stairs, at the bottom she could see sunghoon waving off his friends along the rim of the rink with a silver medal around his neck.

misaki assumed it was his family that left first leaving sunghoon to recollect his stuff, including many of the stuffed animals that were given to him as gifts.

she sighed while walking down to him. the cold air swallowing her whole, a shiver running down her spine causing her to bring her arms over her chest as she approached her fairly tall classmate.

he looked up at the feeling of someone’s eyes on him, surprised to see her standing a few feet away from him.

“no way,” he laughed with a teasing smile on his face, “you truly are a fan!”

she glared at the boy, rolling her eyes before leaning against the wall of the rink, “congrats on second place.”

almost his whole expression changed as he looked down at his medal, “not as best as first though.”

“at least you got ranked,” she shot back.

he nodded slowly bringing himself to sit down. sunghoon scanned the arena to see it nearly emptied.

“let me guess.. you’re here to convince me to go to tutoring.”

“would you believe me if i said no?” she asked, testing her limits as a grin tugged at her mouth.

he chuckled at her response while shaking his head. the air became thick as he thought more into it.

“i’m planning on the flunking english,” he confessed, “i barely passed english last year and plus having a tutor is really embarrassing.”

misa sighed in defeat like she was unsatisfied, and she was genuinely disappointed that he said no to the study block before she could even ask.

she stared at the floor in deep thought. sunghoon stood up to face her completely, and misaki stared at him due to the sudden change in aura.

“what happened?” she asked.

“i have the most brilliant idea!”

she looked at him examining his weird behavior, a little skeptical, “um okay.. what is it?”

“let’s date.”

note: time to lock in yall, the tea is gon spill.

© wonopia 2024

open TAGLIST. @coffeeprincejaehyun @hoonatic @i03jae

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Original Short Story: "I Taught Her Everything She Knows"

This short story is inspired by the writing style of Shirley Jackson, but is entirely my own.

-

It was a bright, lazy afternoon, with a cool breeze blowing through the garden and a sky blue enough to drown in. Bumblebees hovered idly overhead, their faint buzzing accompanied by the clinking of glasses as Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Oliver sipped their sweet tea, sweat beading on their brows as the cubes of ice in their tea slowly melted into honey-brown oblivion.

“I’m glad Sarah decided to join dance class,” Mrs. Oliver said, leaning back in her rocking chair with the white paint chipping off the armrests.

Mrs. Daniels smiled. “She’ll be so excited to start next Monday,” she responded. “As soon as she heard Gloria was taking dance, she wanted to join, herself. It’ll be nice for her to finally make friends.”

Mrs. Oliver narrowed her eyes. “Gloria?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Daniels cut in hurriedly, condensation from her glass slipping onto her fingers. “I mean Sarah. It’ll be good to get her off the iPad, I suppose.”

Mrs. Oliver nodded sensibly. “She’ll have to work hard to keep up with the other girls,” she said. “Especially if she wants to get into the same class as Gloria. She has classes for three hours a day, except for on weekends and holidays, and she practices at home with me. I used to be on the dance team when I was in college, you know.”

“I see,” Mrs. Daniels said, and sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Well, Sarah could use more exercise. It’ll be good for her.”

As she leaned back in her chair, Mrs. Oliver took out her phone, tapping at it for a few minutes before slipping it back into her pocket. Mrs. Daniels waited patiently, pretending not to notice.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Oliver said. “That was Sandy Nelson. We’ve been trying to arrange a playdate for Gloria and Nicole. Does Sarah talk to Nicole Nelson?”

Mrs. Daniels nodded, her lips pursed. “I’ve heard plenty about Nicole,” she said. 

“Well,” Mrs. Oliver said, “Sandy is on the PTA. And Nicole seems like a nice girl.”

“It’s always the ones who seem nice,” Mrs. Daniels replied.

As Mrs. Oliver was working out a response, Sarah came running up from the garden to the front porch where the two older women were sitting. A half-dressed Barbie doll dangled from one of her hands, two circles of dirt on her knobby knees. She noticed Mrs. Oliver, and shuffled her sneakers on the ground, clutching the doll in her hand.

“Did you finish planting the flowers?” Mrs. Daniels asked her.

Sarah nodded. “Do you want to see?”

“I bet they’re very pretty,” Mrs. Daniels responded. “I’ll take a look once I’m done talking to Gloria’s mommy, okay?”

“Why don’t you run inside and rinse off the dirt from your hands?” Mrs. Oliver suggested. “It’s gotten all over your dress, too.”

Mrs. Daniels looked at her, then at Sarah. 

“Gloria always washes up after playing outside,” Mrs. Oliver continued. “And she’s nice and neat, so she never gets dirt on her clothes.”

“It’s okay, Sarah,” Mrs. Daniels cut in. “I can wash your dress later.”

Sarah didn’t seem to hear her, and tilted her head, swinging the Barbie doll back and forth. “Gloria spilled paint on her shirt at art class yesterday,” she said. “And she cried.”

Mrs. Oliver blinked. “She didn’t have any paint on her shirt when she came home,” she said.

Sarah nodded affirmatively. “But it’s true,” she continued. “She cried a lot, and Mrs. Q the art teacher thought she got hurt. But it was just paint, so she helped her wash it off.”

“If you go inside and wash your hands now,” Mrs. Daniels said, “I’ll make you lemonade, and you can have a cookie.”

“Can Gloria come over for cookies, too?” Sarah asked. “My mommy made lots of them a few days ago. I helped mix in the chocolate chips.”

Mrs. Oliver smiled, showing her whitened teeth. “Gloria has dance class today,” she said. 

“Oh, yeah,” Sarah answered, “But she can come over before class, right? I think she’d really like a cookie. I brought one to lunch, and she wanted to trade her granola bar and an apple and her carrot sticks for it. I said no, because it was my cookie, but I felt bad because she really really wanted it. But she can have one if she comes to my house.”

“If you’re okay with it,” Mrs. Daniels put in. “Or you can take some home if she can’t come.”

“Gloria has a dance recital coming up,” Mrs. Oliver said.

Sarah blinked. “But can we give her a cookie?”

“You can’t have too many cookies if you take dance classes,” Mrs. Oliver answered matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Sarah answered.

“But maybe every once in a while,” Mrs. Daniels tried to add. “It won’t hurt. Now, Sarah, please go inside. I want you to wash up.”

Sarah nodded, heading up to the porch.

“Maybe you can visit Gloria this weekend instead,” Mrs. Oliver said. “She’s having a playdate with Nicole Nelson; you can come over if it’s okay with your mom.”

“Gloria’s always welcome here,” Mrs. Daniels said defensively.

Sarah paused, wrinkling her nose. “I hate Nicole Nelson,” she said, demonstratively shaking the Barbie doll in her fist.

“Hate’s not a very nice word,” Mrs. Oliver scolded.

“Gloria taught it to me,” Sarah said proudly. “She hates Nicole Nelson, too.”

“You shouldn’t say hate,” Mrs. Oliver said. “It’s a strong word, and not one that nice girls use.”

“Nicole’s not a nice girl,” Sarah answered. “She called Gloria a baby because she’s never seen Spongebob Squarepants, and everyone else at school knows Spongebob. Have you heard of Spongebob?”

“Spongebob will rot your brain,” Mrs. Oliver said. 

“But my mommy lets me watch Spongebob,” Sarah said, and began to sing. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea…”

Mrs. Daniels laughed nervously. “Only after she’s finished her homework,” she said. “And her chores.”

Mrs. Oliver watched the Barbie doll swing about in Sarah’s hand, its hair coated in dirt and Magic Marker scribbles on its plastic face. Spittle formed at the corners of Sarah’s chapped lips as she kept singing that stupid Spongebob song in an obnoxious off-key warble, the gaps between her crooked baby teeth showing as she screamed the titular character’s name by the end at the top of her lungs. Grime caked the undersides of her fingernails, and the April sun was already beginning to burn the tip of her nose a bright strawberry red. As soon as Mrs. Oliver left, she knew, Sarah would be shoving her chubby cheeks full of homemade chocolate chip cookies, and play iPad games with those filthy grub-shaped fingers, and watch Spongebob Squarepants until her eyes glazed over and her little brain turned to mush and leaked out her ears in gray-pink clumps. And Mrs. Daniels, her selfish mother, would let her, baking more and more cookies and blaring more and more insipid TV shows and teaching her more and more words like hate.

If there was one consolation, Mrs. Oliver told herself as she smiled at the awful child, it was that there was no way Sarah would ever be able to join Gloria’s dance class.

[she-lives-in-her-dreams]

Valentine’s Don’t (Part 1)

Synopsis: Richarlison is in a developing relationship when he forgets a very important day for romance.  

Disclaimer: This is fiction. 

HeungMin Son- Son, Sonny, HeungMin

Richarlison --Richy, Pombo

Richarlison is panicked. He is more panicked than the time he thought Neymar and Vinicus heard him touching himself in the Brazil National Team showers–at least then he had an excuse because he had seen them all leave the locker room.  No, this time there is no excuse and he is a billion percent sure that Y/N wouldn’t accept any even if he had one. 

In his VERY new relationship, he had already fucked up. Richarlison cursed himself aloud. 

“You had three fucking couple days to remember– Y/N’s birthday, our future anniversary, and fucking Valentine’s Day. I’m so fucking fucked. FUUCCCCCCKKKK!”  Richarlison started mumbling but ending with a loud yell and punctuated by throwing his spikes into his locker startling his teammates. 

HeungMin “Sonny” Son slow approaches the angry Brazilian. “Are you okay?” The South Korean asks softly. 

Richy sits down and buries his head into both of his hands. Though he responds, the sound is muffled and Sonny can not understand. Son squats down next to the clearly upset Brazilian. 

Richarlison lifts his face, Sonny is taken aback by the tears in the normally playful forward’s eyes–it doesn’t make sense when they had won the game and Richy himself had scored twice. 

“I fucked up, Sonny. I fucked up so fucking bad. I didn’t realize today is  Valentine’s Day until Katie came onto the pitch with that stupid Valentine’s crown. I’m so fucked.”  Richarlison gasp out before hiding his face again.

It clicks quickly for HeungMin.  The Brazilian had only started seeing Y/N  three or fours weeks ago, and they weren’t official yet. Despite not having met the woman to steal the flirty forward’s heart, Sonny knows Richy cares for her deeply and wants to please Y/N.  For Richarlison to not acknowledge her on Valentine’s Day even if they weren’t official yet could ruin the entire possibility of a proper relationship with the woman. 

“Shit happens, Richy. Did you text her yet and apologize? Maybe plan something to make up for it when we are back in London?”  Son suggest. 

Richarlison sighs and lifts his head again. As he wipes the wetness from his cheeks, Richarlison responds.  “I only realized a few minutes ago. I will text her now. I’ll have to plan something on the plane.” 

The Brazilian takes out his phone and tries writing a heartfelt apology. It takes him 10 tries before he crafts a message he thinks conveys at least a little of his sorrow. 

 Several hours later, Richarlison finds himself on the team’s plane to London. His seatmates, Sonny, Emerson Royal, and Harry Kane are all enjoying their meals while Richarlison pushes the food around with his fork. 

Emerson and Harry both glance at Son having witnessed him talking with Richy earlier in the evening. The South Korean shakes his head subtly.  

“I can see you, you know.” Richarlison mumbles at the stupidity of his teammates. 

“Glad your eyes function, mate. Now, want to share your troubles with the rest of us?” Harry asks. 

Richarlison tilts his head to the side indicating for Sonny to share the issue. The Korean National Team captain gives the two a quick overview of the situation. 

Emerson’s eyes widen as he listens. He had met Y/N once very briefly and could see  that Richy really liked her. It surprises him that his amorous friend could forget such a romantic day. The question is on the edge of his tongue, but before he can ask, Pombo reads his mind. 

“Y/N nunca mencionou isso, e tenho estado tão ocupado com o treinamento que nem notei a data. Se fosse comemorado como o do Brasil, acho que teria lembrado. Caralho!” Richarlison responds to the unspoken question. 

(Y/N never mentioned it, and I've been so busy with training that I didn't even notice the date. If it was celebrated like Brazil, I think I would have remembered. Fuck!)

“I forgot Katie’s birthday once.” Harry blushes. 

Sonny, Richy, and Emerson’s heads all snap in sync toward Harry’s directions. 

“I’m sorry. Did you just say you forgot Katie’s birthday once? Katie? As in the woman you have been dating since you were sixteen? That Katie?” Sonny gawks. 

Harry blushes but decides to tell the embarrassing story in hopes of helping the dejected

Brazilian. 

“Yeah. The year she got pregnant with Ivy. Things had been really rough with injuries for both me and the rest of the guys. We had just had a lot of our staff quit. I was so overwhelmed with team stuff that I didn’t even realize it was the week of her birthday until 3 days AFTER her birthday when my mum called to ask if we had plans for the following weekend. It was my first Sunday off in a while then I was going to have to be back on the road for away games; so, I told her I was going to have a rest. I remember telling me mum this and her pausing. She asked me when we celebrated and I asked what we were celebrating. She thought I was joking for a minute, but when she realized I wasn’t, she said Kate’s birthday and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I checked my phone’s calendar at least 3 times before I accepted that I had missed her birthday. I get so nauseous thinking about it, but I know it had a good outcome because not only are we married but that was when we got pregnant with Ivy.” The vice-captain explained with a wink. 

Richarlison stared at his friend for a second before he responds sadly. “I’m glad she forgave you, but this is different. You and Katie had been together for years by then, and she was use of the football life. Y/N still cringes when I take her to nice restaurants because of the price.” 

“Somehow I don’t think that has to do with the football life– I think she probably cringes because she doesn’t like you spending that type of money on her.” Sonny mumbles. He may not know Y/N but everything Richy has shared with him suggest the woman is not interested in his money in the least. 

Before the two can debate the topic, Harry interrupts them. “If she is meant to be with you, Richarlison, then she will be understanding that one mistake does not represent how you feel about her. Apologize, plan something lovely and romantic to show her you care, then ask her to be your girlfriend, because if I have to hear you pine over her any longer, I am going to call her and ask her for you.” 

Sonny and Emerson laugh knowing Harry is serious while Richy shrugs and checks his phone.

Zero notifications.

[skkfujoshi]

If they tell me one more time “Enjoy your youth.” I’m gonna cry

Chuuya didn’t make a habit of visiting his father’s grave.In fact,he could count the times he had done it on one hand.

Three.Three times,including this one.

On his one year anniversary of becoming boss and on Mori’s 39th birthday.

They hadn’t put Mori’s body anywhere special.Just the local cemetery in Yokohama,amongst the graves of people who lead far more normal lives than Chuuya’s father ever had.

Chuuya never brought any flowers when he visited.Flowers were for people who didn’t treat you like shit.For people who you weren’t glad for the death of.

Besides,he didn’t need to.Every time he had visited,some flowers were already there.

Not to say he was completely disrespectful.He always dressed well for it.No mask,no dyed hair,with a properly done tie and ironed suit.

And without the scarf.Always without the scarf.Chuuya was pretty sure that if he came with it on,Mori would dig himself out of the grave and try to choke him out with it.

He also never spoke.Chuuya believed in the afterlife,he’d speak to the Flags and Randou all the time when he’d visit their graves,but for his father he simply had nothing to say.

What could he say?

“Sorry I killed you.”? “I miss you.” ?

He wouldn’t mean either.

So he sat himself across his father’s grave and sighed.Usually he’d just sit there in silence for an hour or so and then pack up and head home.

Maybe that was a bigger insult than the lack of flowers,just sitting there.Or maybe it was the ultimate sign of restraint.After all,if you had nothing nice to say,you shouldn’t say it at all.

And Chuuya hadn’t had much nice to say about his father for at least six years now.

-||||||-

Dazai hated kids.They all knew this.

He had even once said that he’d rather be surrounded by a whole pack of dogs than have a single child near him.So Chuuya knew from the second he showed up hand in hand with the Akutagawa siblings in the middle of the night a week ago that nothing good would or could come out of it.

Hirotsu offered up to train Gin almost immediately.He reasoned she was quiet,so it would at least be better than babysitting Dazai and Chuuya.Chuuya was just about to offer to train Rūynosuke when Dazai told him that,no,he’ll be taking that one.

Chuuya was taken aback by it,but allowed it.After all,worst that could happen is Dazai being cold to the kid.A bit unfortunate,but could be worse.

If only…

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”he yelled at his partner

He hadn’t really meant to intrude on one of their training session.It was just a coincidence that that day he had nowhere else to be.So he decided to take a walk trough the building.

Which is when he heard the slap.

Dazai simply shrugged as if Chuuya should’ve somehow expected this.

Rūynosuke wasn’t crying,but arguably what he was doing was even more concerning.He seemed ashamed ,looking at the floor,fists clenched in his lap and face red from embarrassment.

“This is the mafia,Chuuya.I really shouldn’t have to explain to you how things work around here.” “How things…You piece of shit.” “Low blow but I’ll take it.”Dazai said as if this were just one of their many petty arguments

Chuuya glared at him in disgust.

“Now if you’re done throwing a tantrum,the two of us have things to do.”

Chuuya narrowed his eyes further in turn.

“Done?You wish.I’m just getting started,bandage waste.In fact,how about I take this ‘tantrum’ of mine to my father?We both know he’s remarkably free today.” “Do you really wanna ruin his weekend with something this inconsequential?”Dazai said with an eye roll Chuuya simply turned heel and grabbed Akutagawa’s hand in response.

~

“What’s going on here?”Mori asked,coming into his office “Chuuya overreacting.”

Without even throwing Dazai a glance,Chuuya turned to Akutagawa.

The young boy had curled himself all the way into the corner off the office settee,looking through the big windows,arms crossed but hands clutching like a lifeline at what use to be Dazai’s black coat.

Chuuya had found out the hard way on the path here what he used that for.He rubbed the red spot on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Akutagawa,may I?”he prodded gently

The boy glanced over his shoulder, curtly nodding before moving to sit straight.He still seemed a bit rigid as Chuuya tried to move the tufts of frizzy hair off of his face.On his left cheek was a hand imprint.He also gestured for Akutagawa to show his hand and elbow as well,which were also beginning to bruise,probably as result of the fall he took when Dazai slapped him.

Chuuya turned to Mori,expecting shock but all he got was confusion.

“Dad?” “Is that it?”Mori asked”Some bruises?Please,Chuuya,you had much worse than that back when you were ten.” “Dazai gave him these.”Chuuya said,hoping that would at least get him somewhere

It didn’t,with his father simply shrugging and scoffing.

“So?” “So!?Do something about it!Get him a new mentor!” “Chuuya,tone.”Mori warned,frosty and quiet

There was silence for a few moments after that.Akutagawa turned to sit all the way at the end again,looking out the window once more with Chuuya sitting back down and Dazai stretching his arms above his head.

The brunette tutted,shaking his head.

“What a spoiled brat you are,chibiko.You can’t very well just demand things of your poor father.It’s very rude.” “Dazai,you be quiet as well.Akutagawa,you go.I have something I want to discuss in private with these two.” “Actually,I think I’d like him to stay.” “And I think you made enough requests today,Chuuya.Akutagawa,go.”

Dazai’s protégé left without another word and quietly slipped the door closed.

Mori sighed,seating himself at his desk.

“Boys…”he began”I really thought you two had moved past this.” “Are you seriously gonna treat this like it’s some little squabble!?”Chuuya yelled

Dazai looked to him confused.

“Isn’t it?If this is about you being upset about me taking training him off your hands,you should’ve spoken up earlier.” “You know damn well what this is about,Osamu.You beat him!And if I know you,this probably isn’t even the first time.” “And again I have to ask why you two are bothering me with this.”Mori grumbled

Chuuya took a deep breath.

“Look I know we’re mafiosos ,but…Dad,beating one of our own?Isn’t that supposed to be saved for our enemies?” “Violence is meant to bring results.Who with is irrelevant.For example,we torture our enemies but also their families to get what we need out of them.A cruel thing,but you can’t dispute its necessity.” “But this gives us nothing!Akutagawa’s already emaciated as it is!All Dazai is doing is making it worse!I bet it isn’t even giving results!” “On the contrary,Chuuya,the proof of my success is on your very body.”

He raised his brow,turning to Dazai.

“The hell are you talking about?”

Dazai grabbed his wrist,pulling the sleeve up,Chuuya hissing in discomfort as it was pulled past the cut.

Even worse was when Dazai pressed on it.

“See?This,right here.That’s all the proof you need.” Mori sighed,rubbing his temples.

“I wasn’t going to tell you,because I didn’t think it mattered but…When Dazai found Akutagawa,ten men were dead and five were seriously injured.” “He cut a tree a few feet ahead of me just because he heard me make a noise.” “And the point of you telling me this is?”Chuuya gritted “The point,son,is that your hand still being there is a tremendous testament to the effectiveness of these methods.Akutagawa feels incentivized to improve because-“ “He gets hit if he doesn’t.”Chuuya finished

He shook his head and ran his hand over his face,before putting it to his mouth.

“Both of you are sick.”he muttered “Sick or not,it gives him a reason to live.”Dazai said with a shrug “And what’s that?” “My approval.” “You-“ “Bastard,piece of shit,asshole…Yeah,yeah I know,heard it all before.Trust me,I hate the idea of someone hinging their will to live on me too but that’s how it is right now.”

Chuuya crossed his arms,pulling his feet up onto the settee.

“Look,Chuuya,as endearing and sweet as your idealism is,it’s more of a hindrance-“ “Idealism!?So it’s too much to ask to not have a kid beaten!?” “At the moment,yes.”his father said simply

Chuuya sighed,leaning back into the settee.

“Is there anything I can do?” “Aside from giving up?”Dazai asked with a laugh

Chuuya shoved him to the floor.

“Well,since I doubt you’ll let this go…I can offer you a deal.”Mori began”I’ll make you Akutagawa’s second mentor if you provide one single benefit of such a change.” “Him-“ “An objective one,Chuuya.Making him a better fighter,strategist…Whatever,something along those lines.You have until the end of the week to figure it out.” “…Thank you,boss.”

| - - - - - - |

“-ow!Meow!Meow!”

Chuuya blinked,pulled out of his thoughts.He turned to the sound,and sure enough there was a cat foot or two away from him.It was an older calico with the right half of its head black and it stared at Chuuya with wide yellow eyes.

Chuuya noted in the back of his mind how strange it was it stopped meowing the moment he turned around.Then again,cat behavior alluded him.

He didn’t like cats,so maybe he was just biased .He wouldn’t say he hated them per se.At least not as badly as Dazai hated dogs.

Something about their faces just didn’t sit right with him.Maybe their mouths that made it seem that they were in on some big joke,the slit pupils that made them look as if they were constantly scheming….Whatever was the culprit,it made Chuuya very suspicious of cats.

“Go away fish breath,I don’t have any food for you.”he said simply and turned his back

For a moment that seemed to be it.

Until a few moments later when Chuuya closed his eyes and took a breath only to feel a slight pressure on his thigh.He peaked and sure enough the furball was attempting to climb into his lap.

Chuuya groaned.And he was trying to be nice.

“Your funeral,fleebag.”he said poking it

And sure enough,the cat floated up,a red aura around it.Though,Chuuya noted again it’s reaction was…strange.Sure,it pawed at air but it didn’t seem frantic or scared by it.It flailed trough the space around it as if there was a very alluring piece of yarn or toy mouse right above its head.

Furthermore it had a collar and while Chuuya wasn’t an expert at cat owner etiquette he felt pretty sure in saying that most people didn’t take their cats to a cemetery.

He squinted at it and somewhere in the back of his mind he got the feeling that he’d seen this cat before.He wasn’t quite sure where,but-

“Not a cat person I see.” “Eek!”Chuuya shrieked losing his concentration and dropping the cat,

Of course,as was common of it’s kind,the feline landed on it’s feet.Chuuya exhaled,turning once more.

“Fukuzawa.No,guess I’m not.”Chuuya muttered,rubbing his neck”Sure a dog might bite you but at least you know they’re not doing it just for shits and giggles.” “Mhh.” “Yours?”Chuuya said,pointing over to the cat

Fukuzawa shook his head as he made his way over to stand beside Chuuya.

“One of our office staff’s pets.Though he asks just about anyone for food and affection,so might as well be.” “And you took it to the cemetery?Of all places?” “I was heading here and he followed.” “I see…Who for?” “Your father if you could believe it.”

Chuuya blinked,turning to him just slightly.

“After all that?After the-“

He wanted to call Yosano by her title,the name Mori had given her,but he held back.He hated being referred to as the gravity manipulator and that was ten times less offensive than being labeled as more or less the Grim Reaper.

“After the doctor?” Fukuzawa’s hand came to rest on his katana.

“Sometimes you mourn what could’ve been rather than what was.”

Chuuya looked away,rolling his shoulder.

“You and your shitty riddles.” “You and your bluntness.”

Chuuya scoffed.

“Speaking of your father-“ ”I’m sure Dazai’s already regaled you with what happened.How I callously shoved my father out the window,cackling madly over his cold corpse.”Chuuya spat

He couldn’t help it,it was stronger than him.He wasn’t mad at Fukuzawa but there really was no one else to yell at.

God…How underhand could Dazai get in his attempt to get the Agency on board with killing Chuuya?To perverse what happened that day all for the sake of his selfish desires and grudges…How dare he!?

“He mentioned what you did,not how you did it.”

Chuuya blinked.

“…That’s more than I expected.” Chuuya stated “What I wanted to ask was….Did your father tell you about the Three part framework?” “The…Oh yeah.He’d mutter it under his breath when he’d get drunk sometimes.”

Fukuzawa took a deep breath, murmuring something that to Chuuya’s ears sounded vaguely like “Goddamnit Rintarou.”.Chuuya decided not to ask him if that’s what he said.

“But weren’t you going to be your father’s successor?” “Yeah,I was.Until I turned sixteen,said something he didn’t like and had that privilege taken away.”

Chuuya cleared his throat again,trying to shove the memory of that day out of his mind.

“Something important?”he prodded “According to Natsume-sensei-“ “Wait,wait,wait….The Natsume ?” “Yes.” “Well…You’ve had my curiosity before,president ,now you have my attention.So what is this thing?”

-||||||-

It didn’t take Chuuya a week to work out an angle to work with.Be partners with a suicidal maniac long enough and you start to work out how he ticks.So,Akutagawa and Dazai in toe,Chuuya strode head held high and back straight into Mori’s office that morning.

He didn’t smile though.After all,the best way to humiliate your opponent is to not let them see it coming.

Elise was there too this time,doodling what seemed to be a new score board for him and Dazai on the account of the previous one having been filled out.Chuuya doubted she could’ve done much more to show how little she cared about this.

“Seems you’ve prepared well.” Chuuya nodded.

“Akutagawa,take a few steps to the left please.Elise look up,you’re gonna want to see this.” “Doubt it.” ”Well I don’t.Eyes up here missy.”

She obliged,though not without an exasperated sigh.

“As for you,Dazai,you stay right where you are.” “Chuuya,just because you’re the boss’s kid doesn’t-Ahh!”

Dazai unfortunately didn’t get to finish that thought on the account of a hardy kick in the shin,followed by a swift swipe at the feet.Before Dazai could get up,Chuuya stepped on his throat,grounding his foot in.

”Guess you were right,this was fun.”Elise said with a chuckle

Chuuya didn’t look at her,giving Dazai a smug smile in response to his affronted expression.

“There’s a point to this stunt,I presume?”Mori asked,clearly considerably less amused than either Elise or Chuuya

Chuuya turned to him,nodded and got his foot off of Dazai’s neck.

“Actually,boss,I have you to thank for the idea.You suggested making Akutagawa a better fighter was a possible benefit I could bring to his training.And I realized you were completely right.”

He pointed at Dazai,who was now standing,rubbing his head and glaring pouting at Chuuya.

“As I just proved,Dazai is a less than stellar combatant.He’s skin and bone and unless dealing with someone who has nothing but their ability as defense,he might as well be dead.By making him Akutagawa’s sole tutor you leave Akutagawa vulnerable to the same pitfall,due to the nature of their training.” “I see.Is that all?” “Yes.”

Mori brought his hand to his mouth in thought.The clock was the only sound for a minute or two(Chuuya may or may not have counted the ticks) and then…

“Very well.From here on out,you and Dazai will both mentor Akutagawa.You will both be assigned equal responsibility and are expected to keep one another accountable in regards to his training.Am I clear?” “Crystal.”him and Dazai both replied “Good.Dazai,Akutagawa you’re dismissed.”

The pit that was in Chuuya’s stomach before the announcement of his victory came back with a vengeance at that sentence,the blaring light of ‘No longer human’ being used on Elise barely even registering in his mind.

The door shut and suddenly him and his father were by themselves.Chuuya wasn’t afraid,not in the conventional sense at least.Mori had never put a hand on him or yelled at him much at all.

They had their arguments but they wouldn’t last long.Mori wouldn’t glare per se but he’d sound so tired and look at Chuuya so impassively that most times the boy would feel bad for even starting the argument.All of those arguments were in public,in front of other people.

Except this one….Which might mean that Mori would yell at him.That this was one step too far in terms of disobedience.Maybe this was the breaking point where Mori was going to start treating him less like a son and more like an employee.

Chuuya straightened even further,preparing for the worst.

“Are you angry at me?”he asked,trying to keep his voice even

His father snorted,a small smile coming to his lips.

“No,not really.In truth I ought to have foreseen this.Kōyo’s always been soft on you,so of course you have a rosier perception of matters such as these.But I’ll give you this…I gave you a challenge and you rose to it brilliantly.I couldn’t be prouder.” “Thank you.”Chuuya said stiffly

Most people would have relaxed at such praise but Chuuya didn’t quite manage it.His shoulders slackened a little,but not enough to make the knot in his gut any looser.

If his father just wanted to congratulate him,there was no need to do it in private. “You have great potential and that’s precisely why I’m worried.”

It was Chuuya’s turn to let out a small laugh.

“What are you worried about?Me stabbing you in the back?”he joked halfheartedly “Don’t be absurd.Nothing of the sort would ever cross my mind.I just don’t want you to waste it.” “…Meaning?”

He was pretty sure he could tell where this was going but he’d only know if it was confirmed.

”Your individualistic approach is going to be a hinderance,Chuuya.” “What?” “For your future role as boss.In fact I believe it’s already hindered you.What you’ve done today is impressive but it’s for the sake of one individual.A leader can’t afford such obvious weak spots and indulgences.” “I…I don’t understand…” “As a leader you must always think of the group,of the greater good.One might suffer for the sake of greater prosperity and you must allow it.The way you’ve been approaching things is the exact opposite.” “…” “I think perhaps it was my fault.As your father,clearly I’ve been favoring you,sparing you from the things you should have learned by now.After all,the only reason you were even able to do what you did today or even a week ago is because we’re family.”

Chuuya then asked something dangerous,something that some deep,much more daring part of him demanded to know.

“And if we weren’t?” “I’d have had you axed for questioning an executive.”Mori said without missing a beat

Chuuya’s feet buckled at the admission,his next breath an effort.

“So,what…You’ll take back my right to partial custody?Just so you can teach me to deal with how hard life is?” “No,you earned that fair and square.However,until you learn to get your priorities in order,you are no longer considered my successor.And unless I feel you’ve learned this crucial lesson I will not give that back to you.” “…” “But if that bugs you,the solution is simple.Give up Akutagawa and I’ll take it as lesson learned.”

Mori still had that slightly amused smile on his face as he said it,as if this were some silly whim of Chuuya’s he was entertaining,as if this was in the same vein as him not wanting to go to bed on time when he was 9.An argument that his father was obviously right about.

Chuuya had never felt sicker.Somehow he found the strength to shake his head.

“I have no intention of taking hand outs for something I can earn on my own.”he croaked

Mori hummed and dismissed him after that.Chuuya wished he could find it in himself to be surprised that Dazai had been eavesdropping all along.

First overall AU info post

Previous fic part <— Next fic part —>

[yourangel137]

Bloodstains on the curtain / chapter 2

Here is chapter two! I hope you all like it<3 tagging: @pix-stuff as promised.

Pairings: yandere/murderer!Childe x GN!reader

Warnings: stress/anxiety

Genre: mostly fluff

Type: Series

Word count: 1123 words

Summary: Is it truly him? Is he truly the killer? He can't be.. he's just too kind, right?

It’s hard to figure out how you’re supposed to feel after such an event, your stomach still twists and feels sick upon remembering the scene you saw just a week ago. After the police had safely brought you home, you haven’t been able to rest. Nightmares upon nightmares happen, no matter how many hours you decide to sleep. Your parent decided to call a therapist for you, someone who is able to help you let go of your trauma. Yet nobody knows what truly bothers you.

Why does the killer have the exact same keychain as Tartaglia?

Your best friend, Tartaglia, might be hiding more than you thought at first. Your best friend, the person you fell so hard for that it hurts knowing he might be a killer. It must be a coincidence right?

A knock can be heard on your door, your eyes immediately darting towards your bedroom door before it opens up and your mother enters your bedroom. “I made you some dinner, do you want to eat it here or with me downstairs?” She asks you, her worry still clearly present in her voice.

“Here, if you don’t mind. I just need a moment for myself..”

“Okay, I get it. Times are very tough right now but just know I’m here for you ok? I’ll bring you a plate.” And there she went again, going downstairs to get you a plate before going back up with it and putting it on your desk.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it..” Your mother’s smile is enough of an answer to your gratitude before she leaves you alone again.

A coincidence... It must’ve been a coincidence... A bright yellow star keychain, the same keychain you gave to Tartaglia as a little token of appreciation towards all he’d done for you. You still remember where you bought it, how it was the last one in stock and how happy Tartaglia got from such a small gift.

It has to be a coincidence.

You slowly begin eating the food your mother made for you, brain still pondering who the killer could possibly be. Your phone lights up and you see a message from your best friend, but for now you decide to ignore it.

‘If Tartaglia really is the killer? Would I be able to tell the police?’ You think to yourself. How could you possibly send your best friend of 10 years to jail? Someone you managed to develop such strong feelings for? Is it normal to doubt yourself?

Your phone lights up again, this time ringing fills your ears, breaking your trail of thoughts and worries. Quickly you swallow the last bit of food down before picking up the phone. “Heeeeey, my star, it’s Tartaglia~ Are you feeling a bit better today? Did I scare you again by calling randomly? You didn’t check my messages so.. I hope you don’t mind me simply calling you~” The corners of your mouth lift up, cheeks flushing slightly, all while your heart skips beats of happiness.

‘Nah, he can’t be the killer.’

“No I don’t mind you calling me, not at all actually! I was just eating dinner so I couldn’t reply immediately, sorry about that. I feel a bit better today, I’m just very tired.. How are you feeling today?”

His happy giggles melt your heart before he answers back: “I’m glad you don’t mind me calling, I’m just worried about you, ya know? I’m doing great now I hear your voice again~” His random flirting immediately gets to you and your cheeks flush once more. “Are you still getting nightmares? I hope they are gone.. but then again, I can’t imagine how horrible that scene must’ve looked..”

“It’s getting better, but I still get them frequently. I’m sure it’ll go away eventually, right?” you reply with a positive tone in your voice.

“I do hope so.. But hey! Now that girl won’t bother you anymore right? With the bullying? Isn’t that something positive at least?”

Your words get stuck in your throat, saliva building up while you remain silent. Tartaglia coughs up a forced chuckle and softly states it’s a stupid joke he shouldn’t have made.

“You’re right though.. She won’t bully me anymore.. I just don’t know how to feel about why she won’t bully me anymore. Do people genuinely deserve to die because they hurt another person?”

The other line stays quiet this time, yet the air turns thick and the silence makes you so uncomfortable. After a few minutes you hear his voice speak out again:

“Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. At least you’re safe, right Y/N? That’s all I care about, your safety.”

“...”

“Anyways~! Do you have plans tomorrow? School is still closed so we could hang out if you’d like? We could go out and shop for new clothes or just get some ice cream or lunch? What do you think?”

Before you know it, a tear drops down your cheek, worry filling your heart again. You clutch onto your sweatshirt while you hold back the urge to cry. “I almost died back then Tartaglia..”

“You won’t die, nobody will hurt you, my star. You got me, right? I’ll keep you safe even if it’ll cost me my life. Nobody will hurt you, nobody will. I’ll make sure of it, okay Y/N? Can you believe me and trust me with that?”

You hum softly while nodding, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please.. Keep me safe.. I’m scared the killer saw me and I’m next on the list..”

You hear a soft sad sigh from the other line before you hear his softer and more gentle voice speak out once again: “I promise, I’ll keep you safe. How about tomorrow I’ll come pick you up and I’ll hold your hand the whole time while we shop together, hm? I’m sure that’ll make you feel a lot safer right?” He ends the sentence with a cute chuckle.

“Alright.. I’d like some fresh air actually.. Text me the time you’ll be here then, okay? I’ll stop calling now.. I’m getting very tired.” Not even 10 seconds later you already see his message appear with the time, making you chuckle slightly from his enthusiasm.

“There you go! I hope you sleep well tonight. Dream of me instead! I’ll even protect you in your dreams~”

You sigh and face palm your forehead softly from his very obvious flirting. “Alright dumbass, I’ll dream of you instead.” You hear his gasp on the other line and can’t help but laugh. “Goodnight to you too.. Thank you by the way. Byee byee~”

I guess tomorrow will be your first time going outside after the incident, how is that going to go?

---

Hope u have a lovely day<3

Much love,

Angel

Last updated: 07-08-2023

[sparkles-oflight]

Have I ever told you, you are like Dopamin? - CHAPTER 2 - Plastika

Master Post | Chapter 1

Author's note: Hello, hello! Welcome to chapter two 🙃 I hope you enjoy this one!

Word count (according to Word): 5334 words

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It’s 11 am. I am well rested, I’ve drunk my coffee, and I’ve done everything I needed to do – well at least according to my to-do list. I’m just so glad the meeting wasn’t early like yesterday. I hate to wake up early in the morning and I hate every and any interaction when I’m in a “half-sleep” state.

I walk up to the studio and notice it’s already open. Nace must have arrived earlier to open it.

Or so I thought.

I placed my stuff in the meeting room, and as I walking up to the recording room, I hear guitars, bass, drums, and even voices.

- “Waiting for the rain to wash away” – I heard Francisca’s voice – “Everything the shadow dancers say”.

They seemed to be singing “Carpe Diem”, so I entered the room where Todd was listening to them sing.

- “As we light up with the fall of dusk”.

- “We'll play our love against your hate” – Bojan kept it going while also playing the guitar - “Don't you count on us to let you win today”.

I saw her slowly waving at me.

- “Let me hear you say”!

- “We'll dance and play until the stars fade”. – both sang together.

-  Ah-ah – Jan would try to sing my back vocals.

- “Across the sky, we're writing our names”.

-  Ah-ah. – I also sang along, but they couldn’t hear me.

- “Got no regrets, we want it all”. – Bojan sang solo this time.

- “Got no regrets, we want it all”. – and she followed right after.

- “Won't count the hours 'til the sunrise”.

- “Got no regrets, we want it all”. – they truly sounded like a powerful duo with their voice and pitch matching so well.

- “Let's leave a mark before our goodbyes” – and they joined their voices together once more – “Because we're only fully alive this moment in time”. – and I just sang along with them from where I was - “No mountain we can't climb”.

- “We danced and played until the sun came” – and once more, it was just Bojan’s voice as the instruments quieted down – “Writing a story using our names”.

And slowly I saw him turning his head towards Francisca. He held her hand, smiling.

- “About a generation not afraid to seize the day”… - and it was all quiet.

When their eyes met, it truly felt like the song, from Bojan’s perspective, meant more than just a “party like crazy” song. From my perspective…it was different. The truth is that Bojan doesn’t sound the same when he sings in English…there’s something lacking there. And I think Francisca does bring up that something. Both their voices are very similar, and she does have a weaker control over it, sure. However, she excels in interpretation, especially in English…

- Nice. – Nace grabbed a bottle of water – I need to have a break.

- Kris! – she said putting her headphones down.

I walked into the room they were in. She was smiling at first, but quickly that smile vanished as she remembered our past interactions…

- Hey everyone! I can’t believe everyone actually got here early.

- Actually, you are the only one late. – Maček said while picking up his lighter.

- Wait, what?

- We started two hours ago… - she said.

- Why am I the only one who doesn’t know about this? Again?

- Wait, you are telling me you are not in the group chat? – the cat boy said.

- I am… Did you kick me out of the SSF group chat!?

- No, I mean the Joker Out group chat on WhatsApp.

- We have a WhatsApp group now?

And at that moment I heard a notification from my pocket. I looked at my phone and saw: “Douch bag from TikTok has added you to ‘Collab’ group”.

- I might have forgotten to add you – said the Douch Bag, Bojan.

- Very funny…

- Oh, so that’s why I couldn’t save your number. – Francisca said – I just assumed you had me blocked. – I sure as hell can block her now.

- What were you guys doing? – I asked Nace since both Jure and Jan seemed to be out of the room.

- We were trying to figure out her singing key and rhythm.

- We don’t need to change a lot since her voice pitch is very similar to Bojan’s. They both seem to sing in similar keys.

- We were experimenting with Carpe Diem since it’s a song that she can sing well pretty much with no problems. – Nace was back to speaking Slovenian to me, so I looked at the couple who seemed to not be paying attention to what had been said – It’s just easier to experiment this way. You can play now. Bojan was just filling in for your position.

I walked up to those two and grabbed Bojan’s guitar.

- This is mine now.

- What?

- I’ll have it now. – I smiled at him – I’m the guitarist, after all.

- Oh, yeah. Sure, man. – he gave me the guitar and went towards Nace – I’m going outside. Wanna join?

- Yeah, no problem.

- And you? – he asked Francisca.

- I’m fine. I would rather not have to inhale the smell of smoke right now.

Both of them laughed as they left.

I was fidgeting with my rings and hands, and every time I played a cord, the sound just wouldn’t come out…

- So… - she said as she sat down.

But then she stopped. She started rocking in her chair with no idea of what to say. I tried to get the guitar the way I wanted but instead, I only got more nervous because nothing was going how I wanted. Eventually, I actually let a grunt out. That is the second time it has happened when I was next to her. Her stare alone can be pretty annoying.

She looked nervous as if she wanted to say something.

- What?

- I didn’t want to say anything…because you surely know more than I do…but…

- But what?

- Your guitar is unplugged. – I looked at it and I saw it – When you grabbed the guitar, the cord fell.

- Are you shitting me? – I sighed.

- That’s why, no matter how much you raised the volume, it was not working as it should.

- Thanks…I got that. - I resigned.

- No problem… and…

I looked at her.

- Nothing…

- What?

- It’s really none of my business but… you really have beautiful hands…

- And?

- As someone with small hands, I really like them. Also, I like to draw! And hands really do provide some of the best shapes in art.

- You draw?

- Yeah…I could draw you someday…

- I see you two get along. – Matej’s voice entered the room.

- Well, do we now? – She turned to me.

- I wouldn’t say that. – I said sitting down as well.

- I know Bojan is kinda “taking care” of her, but you know you are the boss in this band.

- I’m not exactly the “boss”. Nobody is.

- And I’m not exactly being “taken care of”. – she cringed at the thought of it – I’m my own person and adult. I would rather not be taken as a baby just for being slightly younger, thanks.

- Sorry about that. – he apologized to her - I’m going to call the rest of the boys. – and just like that he was gone.

- Ah, sorry. I was rude again. – she told me as she took a sip of her water.

- You weren’t exactly rude, just stating what you think.

- Yeah, but I never know when to shut up…honestly. I don’t understand much about social cues…

That seems funny. I thought she had this strong character and knew exactly what she was doing. So…she is just winging it? I guess that makes sense, putting a character on should be easier for her…But it also makes it harder for me to understand and connect with her…because I don’t know who she is. And I don’t know if I’m ready to go through something like that again. Knowing someone who doesn’t want to be honest, but instead prefer to act and put on layers of masks…

- Do you… - but before I could ask anything, I was cut off by the sound of the loud but short guy we all know and love.

- Are we ready for more!? – he said enthusiastically.

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I had Fran next to me…we were both looking for some inspiration, but it’s not easy if no one actually has any idea of what to do…

- I have an idea! – Fran broke the ice after a while of being stuck coming up with a concept.

- I’m all ears. – I told her.

- We want a love story, right?

- Yeah.

- Why don’t we spin a wheel?

- What?

- We spin a wheel with different options on what we want to do for the song’s concept and then we decide what to do.

- Where do you intend to get a wheel? – Kris asked her.

- Online, duh. – she smiled as she got her cell phone from her pocket – There are some templates where you just fill in what are your options, press “spin”, et voilà: you get a randomized answer.

- Let’s do that then! – I told her.

- First, “girl meets boy” or “boy meets girl”?

She wrote both options down and I placed my arm around her comfortably.

- Girl meets boy! – she announced.

- Oh my god, it’s us. – I bopped her nose and she smiled.

- Next, who falls first and the hardest?

The wheel spun once more, and the answer was clear:

- Holy shit, you like me? – I told her.

- Apparently, yes! – she said with a smile and with her hand on her chest.

- But where am I from? North, South, West, or East and central Europe?

- You are…

The answer was convenient:

- East and Central Europe. – I slapped my knee and, ironically, I said:

- Oh, what a coincidence. I know a guy like that!

- I’ll let you decide which country he’s from then.

I stretched my arms because of how offended I was by that question. He’s obviously from:

- Slovenia! – I told her, and she laughed.

- Okay, and the girl is from…- and the wheel spun.

- Ah, if it isn’t my favorite part of Europe: southern Europe. I personally believe she should be from Portugal, the capital of Spain.

- Shush! – she hit me lightly – You are this close to Slovenia becoming the capital of Croatia. – she said showing me her two fingers close to each other.

- That’s pretty and all, but uh… - Jan interjected – what about the actual story?

- Wait, I’ll write a bunch of tropes and see which one gets selected.

She copied and pasted the most popular music tropes onto the wheel.

- “Soulmates” … - Kris read the result out loud.

- Good or bad ending? – she said with a trickster smile.

- “Good ending”.

- That’s settled! – I announced by getting up and stretching! - It’s the beautiful story of a girl… - I ask for her hand, which she gives it – who came from a country bathed by the sun and the ocean to a beautiful country that borders the Mediterranean Sea.

- Slovenia has barely any coastline.

- A beautiful country nonetheless. – I help her get up like she was a lady – She meets a boy – I held her by the waist with one hand and with the other, I took her hand – who’s her soulmate and they fall in love.

She doesn’t directly look at me. Instead, she looked at the other members, in embarrassment, and held onto me as well. And after a dramatic pause, I finally let go of her hand and release a bit of her waist.

- I like the idea! – I said with assertiveness and in a funny tone. She laughed and hugged me sideways.

- Well, that was certainly dramatic. – she sat down again.

- Well, that’s what I live for! Drama! – I did some jazz hands which got her doing the same as me.

- Okay this is good, for you guys – Kris muttered – but lyrics aren’t really what is important right now.

- No… - she said – But now that we have a theme going on, we can research the topic. As a matter of fact…- she looked at me.

- Throughout the past months, the two of us have been talking a lot… and we have both shared songs that remind us of our cultures.

- So, we might have an inspiration for what the vibes of the characters are.

- So… - Kris noted – everything just fell into its place very nicely?

- It’s cool, isn’t it? – I showed some enthusiasm to that gloomy face of his.

But it seemed not to be enough. He has been like this since yesterday. He looks annoyed at how things seem to be going smoothly with Fran’s integration and possibly how quickly they are moving…. And he clearly wanted some time and space alone.

So, I did what any normal person would do.

I jumped on top of him and tickled him until he started hitting me with a pillow and we eventually fell on the drums’ cymbals.

- I HATE YOU! – Kris yelled as he laughed his ass off.

- I LOVE YOU TOO! – I was still on top of him. He tried to fight me off with his hands, which I grabbed and kissed him on the forehead.

I smiled and let my tongue out to mock him.

- ENOUGH! – Matej finally shouted at us. – Do you want to pay for damaged materials?

We looked around us as we sat on the floor, and we saw what we had just done. Everyone was very quiet after our storm… But not for too long… Nace and Fran were looking at each other, red as tomatoes, and they were trying to see who would burst out laughing first.

However, it was Maček the first who snorted. It was loud enough to break those two poker faces.

- “I LOVE YOU TOO” – Nace mimicked me – That was too good! - And the younger had already lost her shit and was laughing on the sofa.

Jan, on the other hand, was covering his face so that we wouldn’t see his expression, but I bet it was priceless. I smiled at Kris.

- Not my fault you have such a kissable face. – I told him in Slovenia since Fran was clearly busier trying to breathe.

I got up and Kris lightly slapped me in the butt as I walked towards the sofa. He barely managed to hit me - he was still gasping for air.

Matej and the whole crew were already fed up with us. So fed up that they had to call in lunch early so we decided to go out for a smoke break outside… It’s starting to get cold though and we’ll have to find an alternative to smoking in the studio since Fran is so sensible to the smell…

- Where do we go to eat today? – Juček asked after he let the smoke of the cigarette out of his lungs.

- Honestly, I’m not sure. – I told him, doing the same thing.

- Cya everyone! – Fran said rushing away from us.

- Where are you going?

- Having lunch with my friend! – she only stopped after reaching a safe distance from our “smoke corner”.

- Do you come back in the afternoon!?

- Obviously, you dumb-dumb ¡Nos vemos!

- What did she say? – Juček wondered.

- She said uh, that she’ll see us, in Spanish, right? – Jan waited for my confirmation.

- Yup.

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The five of us walked up again to that tiny room we were in this morning. We would have to, once again, deal with being stuck and! With a small creature claiming to be a singer, also known as Francisca.

- I can’t believe you brought me to a sandwich place… - Nace complained

- But there were gluten-free options. – Bojan told him.

 - Yeah, but gluten-free bread is *not* the same.

- You are a big boy! – the small annoyance told him, in English, and hugged Nace’s arm – You need carbs!

- “You are a small boy! You need soup!” That’s what my grandma would have said. – and of course, the only one who would say that would be her, Francisca, who walked in.

Bojan immediately hugged her and, this time, he even went for two kisses on the cheeks.

- Two kisses? – I asked.

- Last time Bojan tried to go for three kisses we ended up kissing on the lips. – she pointed it out very casually.

- Do you just kiss twice in Portugal?

- Yup. – she shrugged – So officially, Bojan was the first person to ever kiss me. Even if accidentally.

- Also, she’s so bad at kissing people on the cheek – he mocked her.

- Hey!

- It’s true! You don’t know how to kiss on the cheek, and I find it hilarious. She’s like a child!

- You see why we don’t do it.  – she looked at me and pointed at him.

She ended up sharing the playlist both of them had worked on. And after some back and forth, we even start coming out with some sounds. We even decided to incorporate one extra instrument that Bojan knows how to play: the accordion. Apparently, it was a common sound found in both folklore songs that they had compiled. I personally don’t think the sound of the accordion fits our music style, and we still want to be very truthful to our music style. The problem is, Francisca is not attached to a specific music style, and she likes music experimentation so we also should incorporate that part, but we are struggling a bit with it.

- I have an idea… - she said – my “character” comes to Slovenia, right? What if she brought a sound with her? It doesn’t have to be an instrument.

- Go on… - Bojan told her.

- For example, there’s stuff that reminds me of Portugal, certain sounds such as the guitar, like I told you. – she looked at Jan that nodded back at her – now imagine the sound of her footsteps when she meets the boy. In Portugal, we have this thing called “Portuguese Calçada”.

She pulled up her phone to show how the pavement of some sidewalks is done in Portuguese culture. Different black and white rock squares composed the shapes and drawings on the floor.

- It’s very pretty. – Jan told her.

- Yes, but it’s an endangered art. It’s too dangerous for people that aren’t used to walking on them and don’t expect holes in the floor. Or when it’s raining! This rock is super slippery. Now, see this.

She showed us some shoes with flower patterns sewn onto them.

- These are some shoes we use in typical folklore, there are different types of shoes and materials, but the traditional ones were in wood.

- So, what you are saying is…? – Jan was nearly asleep from the long explanation.

- Imagine the “wind” brings the sound of these shoes hitting the mosaic on the floor. It would be a really good repercussion sound.

- Took you that long just to sa- I was going to make a snarky comment, but I was stopped by our loud “leader”.

- ¡Maravilloso! – Bojan told her.

- ¡Muchas gracias, Bojan!

- Aren’t you Portuguese? – I told her – shouldn’t you refrain from speaking in Spanish?

- You aren’t the only ones allowed to speak multiple languages, obrigado.

We kept listing a bunch of noises and possibilities, Bojan and Francisca thought too much alike…even behaved similarly, she was just a bit shyer. When one cracked a joke, the other one had the perfect quote to complement it. When one was stuck, so was the other, and whenever one needed a break, so did the other. These two morons share a brain cell.

I thought that was just too funny. So, I let out a little snort and everyone looked at me.

- Are you okay? – Bojan asked as a grin formed on his face – What’s so funny?

I noticed the staring and decided to compose myself.

- I was sneezing. – I ahem to get my voice back to being firm - But I agree, a break sounds nice.

- Are you okay?

- Yeah, sure, man. – and I coughed some more – I’ll just not go outside right now. It’s a bit cold.

- Do you have a cold? – I noticed everyone starting to talk to me in Slovenian, as I tried my best to stay in English.

- No, I am fine. Just need to eat something.

- Me too. – Jan put down the guitar - I’m starving.

Everyone got up and we all went towards the vending machine to get some snacks. Nace had to stick to the ones he brought from home. Afterward, the guys left to smoke, and it was just me and Francisca in the room, once again.

We didn’t talk for a solid minute. She had her earphones plugged in – as if we hadn’t already listened to enough music and sounds in the past couple of hours – and wrote a lot on her cellphone. Even so, from time to time, I would catch her looking at me. Eventually, I asked.

- Okay, who are you texting?

- What? – she said with a confused face as she unplugged her earphones.

- Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. You are probably texting someone you like, and you don’t want me to tell Bojan that you are seeing someone else.

- What are you talking about? – she still had that same expression of pretending that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

- Come on, at this point, everyone knows you two have been dating in the past couple of months. If you are cheating on him, you can tell me, and I’ll make sure to tell him for you. I just don’t want you out there breaking my friend's heart like that.

- What!?

- Come on…You wouldn’t talk so casually about an “accidental” kiss, or even behave so alike if you two do if you weren’t dating. You might not realize this because you never had a relationship before, but cheating hurts. Either that or you are just a big “pick me” and are making everything possible to be the perfect partner for Bojan, which, if you are here for that, you might as well have not come. We don’t need an actor playing a character, we need someone focused, and right now you are just slowing us down!

- Comes merda às colheres ou nasceste assim? – she said it with her hand in her head seriously getting angry at me.

- What?

- It means “Do you eat shit with spoons or were you born like that!?”

- Didn’t you say you like people telling you what they are thinking!? Why are you so rude?

- YOU ARE BEING RUDE! I am not dating Bojan! Bojan is helping me out every step of the way. And you? Ever since I stepped foot here yesterday, you have been throwing me shade with snarky comments, side-eying me, and constantly tearing me down and sometimes straight up excluding me. If you want this done in time, be a fucking professional and grow up!

Wait…They are not dating…? And I’m the one being rude? I’m the one excluding her? I don’t think I had realized that…If anything I thought I was the one being excluded. Her bright personality seemed to be shining on top of everyone else’s, and her “narcissistic gentleness” seemed more like an act than her own feelings…but if that’s so…why do I see truth in her eyes right now…?

I had no idea she felt that way. She felt the same as me.

- I’m sorry…

- Well, you better be! – she sighed - I’ve been trying to get along with everyone. And it’s frustrating that no matter what I do, you still treat me like this…

She went silent for a moment...

- Sorry for bursting onto you like that… - she said plugging her earphones again – I understand that I’m hard to deal with, and I understand two days is too long for anyone to put up with my BS, let alone two months. I should have regulated a bit more my emotions. I’m sorry…

Silence again… but this time, I’m the one bringing in the sound.

- Do you need help with something…?

She looked at me…as if I finally said the right words…

- I… - she stopped and messed around with her hair – I’m just texting my friend…I’ll be fine…

- I apologize for making so much drama with you and Bojan… - I looked at the floor and fidgeted with the rings in my hand.

- No, it’s fine… - she said, also looking at the floor.

- I’m sorry I’m acting like a child. I’m an adult… - I sighed as I looked up to avoid a tear to get away from my eyes – I should know better by now that I shouldn’t mess around with other people’s lives and not make assumptions…

- It’s fine… - she kept saying, not actually listening.

- And I was rude…I’m sorry. – she was not listening to a single word of what I was saying. She was just disassociating.

I approached her and kneeled down to see her expression. Her eyes were red from holding back her tears and she started biting on her nails, which was hurting her…

- Hey… - I said as I grabbed both her shaking hands – What do you need?

She took a deep breath and finally let out a single tear. With her voice sulking she finally asked for what she needed.

- So, uh…my manager is going back to Portugal after this week. And I also only have a reservation for a couple of days at the hotel. I was hoping I would find an apartment to rent until January easily here, but I guess it’s just as hard as in my country.

- Can’t you stay longer at the hotel?

- Nope, every single one is booked in Ljubljana until after Christmas, and it’s super expensive either way. Sorry, I don’t make that much money. – she laughed, as more stray tears left her eyes.

- That’s why you were texting your friend?

- Yup. She – she breathed in a little bit, and she was starting to get calmer – she says I can stay at her home for a bit, but personally, I would feel bad because her parents don’t speak a word of English. – she smiled – Do you have a tissue?

I touched my pockets, but I couldn't find the ones I thought I had with me.

- Sorry, already took them away from you. – she said smiling and showing me the package.

- What!? How!?

- You probably have a hole in your pocket. That’s how. – she finished cleaning up her nose and face.

- Oh god, I really do have a hole in my pockets! – I said as I found the motherfucker.

- Let me see. – she said putting the tissues in my pockets.

- They are not just gonna fall out like that.

- I mean… if you move around, they probably will fall.

- Let me just- I was about to get up but before I could process it, a couple of arms were hugging me.

They were of a small person with a long green and white sleeve shirt. They had puffy short hair and the most beautiful brown eyes you could ever picture. That was brave of her…How come she hug someone with whom she was just angry at? Who mistreated her? I understand the whole “forgive and forget thing” …but she should really learn how to have some self-respect.

I wanted to say that…but it did feel nice to have her around me for once…

- Fran… - she let go of me and smiled directly making eye contact with me.

- Nice to meet you. – she told me, extending her hand – My name is Francisca, but you can call me Fran, like you just did.

I was hesitant at first, but I took her hand.

- You must be Kris, right? I really enjoy your music. I’m very glad I got the chance to talk and work with you.

I laughed awkwardly and then I finally accepted it: this is the true way we first met. Eye to eye, no pretending to care about each other, no bickering…

- Yes, I’m Kris. And I hope this collaboration sails smoothly.

She smiled a lot. She was for once looking at me brightly. She was looking at me as someone who actually took her into consideration. She was looking at me as someone meaningful in her life. I hope I’m looking at her in the same way…

From the entrance, I heard some claps. We both looked at the door, and everyone had already returned.

- Whoaw, that was beautiful. – the author of the claps, Nace, said – Bojan is crying.

- No, I’m not. – he tried to wipe away a couple of tears that were running out of his eyes – it’s the cold!

- Think fast! – I told him.

I threw at him the tissue packet, only for it to hit his face and then land on his hands.

- You deserved that for eavesdropping.

- We weren’t here for too long actually. – Juček said as he was doing pull-ups in the doorframe.

- We came in when she was already crying. – Jan walked towards his guitar – So, uh, you need a place to stay?

- Well, I’ll have to find something, yes. – she said still cleaning her face.

- Bojan – Jan called for him – Don’t you have a spare room in your house?

- Yeah, I do. – then Bojan redirected his attention to Francisca – You could totally sleep there, if you are okay with it. I live with Martin, but he’s studying most time. – he crossed his arms – If I sleep on the sofa, my room should be available. Free of charge.

- But I could never do that! – she protested – If I were to go live with you guys, first you’d have to ask Martin. Second, I’m not using your room! It’s yours! I would sleep on the sofa. And third, I can’t stay there free!

- If you insist a lot, I might make you do my laundry.

- Yes, me messing around with a washing machine in Slovenian makes a lot of sense. – she looked at him with a tired look.

The lovebirds debated back in forth for a while before settling on Francisca staying at Bojan’s house until the end of this journey.

And once again, I had that annoying feeling in the back of my head. About this whole collaboration, about Bojan and Francisca’s relationship…why do I despise her? Or do I? I don’t think that’s it… I think I just don’t like all the attention she gets.

Honestly, I would think as an adult I would already have my emotions all sorted out, but, man, I’m a wreck.

WHATSAPP: “+351 XXX XXX XXX sent you 2 messages”

Unknown: Hello hii, it’s Francisca :)

Just wanted to tell you that I arrived at the hotel safely :D

This is your sign to save my number *finger guns*

Unknown: Anyways,

Keep calling me Fran :D

I like it <3

DO YOU WANT TO ADD THIS CONTACT OR BLOCK?

ADD

SAVE AS: “Fran-chica”

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫

After note: I actually hate to write Kris 😅 at least bitchy Kris like in these first two chapters. Maybe because he's the one I can predict the least out of all the boys. It's hard for me to read that boy (cough cough I just have a crush on him lol Cough cough).

Btw! Franciscas are usually called by Chica or (more recently) by Kika, not Fran. Anyways, in Spanish, "Chica" means "girl". Just thought you'd like to not that info :)

Chapter 3

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 2008 Tom showed me this really cool thing on Google Maps. It tells you the distance between one point to another, as well as the height. Jesse’s 80’ higher than us while the renters in back are 60’ lower. If you drew a line straight from our place to Jesse’s, he’s 271’ away. The renters are over 300’ away, and the people up the hill in back with the goats are over 400’ away. I was surprised to learn that they’re a little lower than Jesse. I thought they were at the highest point from which we can see from our place.

Speaking of Jesse, Tom ran into him on his way out yesterday. I’m surprised it took this long to run into each other. Jesse was in his truck. They just said hello and that was it.

I’ve been thinking of Randy a lot lately. What was it about him that charmed me so? I really miss him at times. I didn’t know much about him, but there was just something about him. For someone who’s more than predominantly been attracted to women, there have only been about half a dozen guys I ever thought were halfway decent looking, including Tom, of course. Randy was tall and wiry. At least 6’ tall or taller. He had thick wavy gray hair, a mustache and light eyes. I never could decide if he was in his late 40s or early 50s. I don’t know if we’d have gotten along as well had we been friends or anything more. Despite his friendliness and easygoing manner, I sensed not so much an underlying hardness about him, but I got the feeling that he wasn’t a very sensitive guy for the most part. I don’t think most of them are, though, anyway.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 30, 2008 I won a $575 Shaw laminate flooring GC in an instant sweep a few hours ago! The question is, does it have to be used for that only? I sent them an email, so we’ll see. They’re going to send an affy of course, which hopefully won’t require notarization or include a tax form. If it has to be flooring only, we could either redo the floors here, give it to Jesse for a rent deduction, or see if Jessie wants to buy it, or sell it online. We’ll see what Tom thinks when he gets up in a few more hours.

The renters didn’t get trigger-happy last week. I don’t know if it was my prayers or someone talking to them that helped, but I’m glad they skipped a week of target practice!

FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, 2008 Jessie said she’d be in Las Vegas in January (a good time to go there since that’s when her weather will be at its shittiest) and asked how far we were from there. Well, we’re 371 miles away, but as I reminded her, the western states are huge. I still hope she can either get here or we can meet her there. That’d be totally awesome!

How do you explain this? I woke up at 144.0 yesterday and said screw it! I took a day off of dieting and ate whenever I was hungry and then some. Yet today I woke up at 142.8!

I had horrible dreams of losing the place, only “the place” was a huge two-story house and so was Jesse’s, and it was on a circular drive. In the dream, I asked Tom if he thought Jesse would accept $825 worth of stuff as payment, was wondering if we should just kill ourselves, and ugh! Just the usual nightmare I have at times. I just hope it’s just that – a nightmare – and not some ominous warning of trouble ahead.

So I’m a bit stressed, though certainly not like in the motel. I hope to hell it doesn’t come to that point either! Tom says we’ll be fine. I’ve been praying every day as well.

I woke up several times during my sleep, afraid I’d get “shot awake.” I noticed that they do their shooting at the end of the week. Twice on Thursday, once on Friday. So far all I’ve heard, though, is this obnoxious dog in the middle of the night that’s almost as loud as Jesse’s.

Tom worked a full shift and will be working tomorrow too, in case he has to take days off next week. I just hope he gets a new job like yesterday!

Jesse may be a bit of a pest and a bit on the dumb side, but when you think about it, he’s just what we wanted. A seemingly easy-going guy who’d probably work with us if we had a problem. This sure beats a management company that treats everyone the same and could care less if all your loved ones dropped dead and you ended up paralyzed or blind or whatever.

The queen is 85 today. Just another year or two and you’re going belly-up, bitch! What mixed emotions Mary and Dave must have about that idea. At last, their “child” will be gone and they can have the whole house to themselves.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 2008 Tom was able to work another full day, though he says he wouldn’t mind having Friday off so he could have a 4-day weekend.

Next week is when he really expects to if not start a new job, then at least get interviews, explaining that after Labor Day is a good time to get jobs since the high school and college kids that have summer jobs return to school.

Wish I had more to write about, but I don’t. Hey, no news is good news! Usually. Guess I’ll go work on my story a little and watch a couple of movies.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27, 2008 Although they sent some people home early today, Tom wasn’t one of them, thank God. This still doesn’t ease my worries. Not until and if we can make it long enough to see him in a new job. I woke up just 4 hours into my sleep stressed out at the thought of him being sent home early.

We were going to list a Barbie lot tonight on eBay, then one tomorrow, but Tom had to stop and play Fix-it instead. He got a hole in one of his tires which he thinks was caused by a nail, and now there’s a corrupt spot on the hard drive of the computer that operates the cooler. Naturally, this has me worried that if something up there wants us back on the path to financial ruin, that part of guiding us onto this path means it’s going to have things break that cost money. So far nothing’s cost us, but it could be a matter of time.

I asked Tom what he thought about Mary’s case and if he thought she’d go home at sentencing or if the state would get its way with the 15 years. He said he thinks she’ll end up with something between the two, saying that the state usually asks for more than they expect to get while the defense lawyers ask for less. So what made the DA in my case so lucky that she got what she asked for? Gee, maybe the defendant was a white Jew! So I guess that she’d be out sometime next year if she got the in-between, but no later than 2010. I’d hate to see her transferred to prison, even though prison can be better than jail in many ways. But it can also be more dangerous, too.

I finally heard from Jessie. She said she’s been busy and dizzy and that her doctors won’t give her a blood test. They’re insisting it’s stress. Yeah, I’m sure the quacks would insist on that. If it is stress, then I guess that means the job isn’t going well. She didn’t say. I’ve asked several times, but it’s like she likes to keep me wondering and guessing or something.

At least I know she’s still alive, but I’m still completely in the dark where Paula’s concerned. As for my folks, they’ve never wanted much to do with their “crazy” daughter, so there’s no mystery there.

Although I just won a $10 Red Robin restaurant GC, I’m thinking of seriously cutting back on the sweeps. There’s just no point in working so hard for so little. Same with the diet. Why be so hungry just to lose a pound that keeps coming back? I awoke at 142.0. How do you gain nearly 2 pounds from a tuna sandwich and an 80-calorie muffin? I was 142.8 after I ate them. I’m simply too old to lose weight without starving and it’s just not worth it. I’m big, this is me, and so be it.

Brownie had finally smartened up and learned that if he doesn’t go home when I tell him to, he doesn’t get let out for a few days. Yet earlier when I was cleaning their cage, they both gave me a hard time, so they’re not going anywhere for a while.

Speaking of things not working, that damn Freecorder quits working every time I reboot the laptop on which I play my radio, so I guess I just won’t record songs for a while. Nothing works with Vista and when it does it doesn’t work for long!

I don’t know how long this will work in XP on the Mac, but we downloaded a counter and installed it on my Kiwi profile page to tell me how many people view that page. So far there’s been 4 in the last few hours.

MONDAY, AUGUST 25, 2008 I can’t write much right now because I’m pretty stressed out. Mr. Everything’s Going to be Okay was sent home two hours early due to lack of work, and being naïvely optimistic as he is, he’s telling me everything is going to be ok and that after Labor Day, which he forgot about, he’ll get a new job closer to home and I can get to a dentist for these fucking teeth that are hurting like hell, etc. But after the nightmares we’ve been through it’s hard for me not to be worried and paranoid, afraid the past is once again reaching out to haunt us. I’ve been praying every day for God to protect us from yet another financial crisis, but I know that if He can fail to care about us in the past, he can choose not to care now, too. I’d like to think He feels we’ve had enough already of being beaten over the head financially, but I can’t count on that. He’s been my enemy as much as He’s been my friend. Nothing up there curses someone with both a sleep disorder and a driving phobia if they want them to be financially comfortable. Instead, we’re two people trying to survive on one income. Tom says we’ve gotten by in the past and we’ll get by again, but the point is that I don’t want to spend half our lives barely making it! I know we’ve got the money for September’s rent, but what about October? He says it won’t be a problem, but what if he’s wrong? And why can’t I just live in the moment? We’re not faced with homelessness right now, so why can’t I just relax and enjoy life until and if there ever really is another crisis? Arrrggghhh!

All I know is this – I’m not going on the streets! I may be forced to play poor-assed bum, but I’ll totally kill myself before I hit the streets. This is as cheap as it gets, so if we lost this place there’d be no place to go! I also know that something up there has been obsessed with me being in places I don’t want to be throughout most of my life, and despite the few flaws here, this is the best place I’ve ever lived, and oh my God! I’ve got a damn good idea! Back in a sec.

Tom and I talked about this before, back in the motel, and have decided to actually do it instead of just talk about it. We’re going to save up $1500 or so and get an RV as a backup. That way if the absolute worst-case scenario occurred and we couldn’t live here, we could load that up, throw our stuff in storage, then live in that for a while. The question is, can we survive long enough to get it? If only my teeth didn’t need so much work!

There is some good news and that’s that I’m down to 141.4. I thought this 1000-calorie diet had stopped working, but I guess it hasn’t. I have no idea how much more I’ll lose. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how hard it is. Some days are certainly better than others. I’ve been taking multivitamins to help keep from feeling rundown, being stuck, and all those other things that go with dieting.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 24, 2008 And now I’m up almost a whole pound. I did splurge a little yesterday, but only a little. Fortunately, I’m not that hungry today.

Thanks to Tom’s accumulation of Coke reward points, I’m getting a new $40 Oakley messenger bag! At least I think it’s a messenger bag. It’s a bright red Oakley Girl Bag. It also says “swivel mid,” whatever that means. The “mid” must mean it’s a mid-size bag, but it’s awfully big for a mid-size. The pocketbook Nervous got me a million years ago is 9” long and 6” tall, but this one’s 15” long and 10” tall. My current black pocketbook only has two compartments, plus an inner and outer pocket. This one has 3 outer pockets and an inner one. It’s definitely roomy and capable of holding larger items like books.

Their pink metallic Hobo bag was actually the prettiest, but it’s way too small. Smaller than the one I’ve got now.

Later…

Scratch that red messenger bag. In the end, I decided on the Petite Pouchette Medium Hobo bag in pale metallic bronze by Nine West Handbags. It’s a $32 bag and will be here by September 4th. It has an inner pocket and two outer pockets and is almost 14” long and just over 9” tall. It’s ¼” wider than that big messenger bag would’ve been at 4.25”.

At 1:30 yesterday morning, then again at 5:00 a few hours later, I heard this obnoxious barking from down the hill. Heard it before midnight, too. It totally fucking figures, huh? I mean, it just so totally fucking figures! As soon as we get here, in comes this shit. I’m sure I’ll get shot awake at some point this week, too. If I didn’t know any better I’d hope they moved or got evicted, but I do know better. I know that even if they did leave, the same old shit would move right in to replace them. I’m just glad I can’t hear the barking during the daytime. The shooting is bad enough, and I doubt talking to them will help. People like that just don’t respond to words.

A couple of nights ago at around 11:00, I was going to pee when I heard shouts coming from down there. The good thing about it was that it was so faint. You had to literally stick your face in the open window by the toilet to hear anything. I couldn’t tell if they were fighting or just goofing around, but I could certainly tell that I wouldn’t want them living a driveway away, let alone a wall away! I even smiled at the fact that they’re as far away as they are.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 2008 Got a letter from Mary, obviously sent before she could’ve gotten the trailer picture, or hopefully gotten it. She asked that I email her attorney a character reference letter, which I was more than happy to do, even though I don’t see how it’ll help. They didn’t help me, but this isn’t a case of blacks against whites in Arizona either, where blacks are favored by the law. I still don’t think character references help many defendants no matter what they’re charged with, who they are or where they are, and especially not in a case such as hers. If anything she stands less of a chance than I did. On the other hand, the only “character reference” I got was from Miss Perfect in my case. I would think Mary could get dozens of character references.

What I don’t get is how it can help even if the judge were to be impressed with what people have to say about her. She says the DA is trying to get her 15 years while her lawyer’s trying to get her home at sentencing after 10 years. But even if she gets 15 years, has already been there since 2000, and gets a year off for every 3 she’s done, then wouldn’t her sentence be up even if the DA gets his way?

I just hope she stays away from her mother and abusive men whenever the hell she does get out, and that she has no more children. She may love kids, but she’s lost enough of her life as it is. Not only could she do the world a favor by not contributing to the overpopulation problem that’s getting out of hand, but she deserves some freedom for once. But she hasn’t had sex since she was 23, she’s still fairly young at almost 31 years old and hasn’t any discriminations.

Meanwhile, everyone else is disappearing on me. This is the longest time I’ve gone without hearing from both Paula and Jessie. I hope nothing’s wrong with Jessie! As for Paula, she’s definitely got to be either in jail or worse. Worse as in sick, hurt or dead. But my news search has turned up nothing. If she really were dead, that doesn’t necessarily mean it would be mentioned online, though. People pay for obituaries, and I can’t imagine anyone paying for an obituary for her if she really is dead. All I know is that while she may hate to write, she wouldn’t go this long without calling unless something was wrong.

It’s been a month since Jessie’s emailed me and she usually doesn’t go longer than two weeks. My guess is that she’s got job and maybe even man problems. Maybe her hubby had a relapse. Hopefully, nothing’s wrong with her kids.

It’s kind of weird. First my parents disappear, then Paula, now Jessie. That’s a lot of people to have disappeared from your life. I hope Mary won’t be next!

I jumped up two-tenths of a pound to 142.0, and am kind of taking the day off. Everybody needs at least one day off a week from dieting so long as they don’t veer too far off track. I’ve been incredibly hungry! So hungry that there’s not much I can do about it, but wait it out. This is because I let myself get so damn hungry that nothing I eat satisfies me. But I’m also no longer used to shoveling in large quantities of food anymore, so I just try to find a reasonable balance somewhere in between.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 22, 2008 I’m still being woken up at times by that damn motorcycle if he revs it up when I’m lying on my good ear. The way the sound reverberates underneath the house is really fucking annoying. So instead of running the sound machine through the stereo, I created white noise on the stereo by having it on a radio station that isn’t on a radio station. Then, so I have both high and low pitches, I put the sound machine on the bed and will play that on the lowest sound it can make. I’m sure my sleep will still be as cursed as it has been since 1992, but I like to try new things anyway. The problem with the sound machine or the white noise alone is that it doesn’t have a wide range of pitches and so that’s why I need to run both. I need higher pitches to drown out movement Tom may make inside the house, and lower pitches to override the rumbling of that fucking motorcycle.

The good news is that I’m down to 141.8 pounds. I hadn’t bothered dieting for a while and so my usual monthly high was 147.something right before my period, and 142.something right after it. Then I went back on my homemade “Timer Diet,” where I eat 5 times a day with 3-hour intervals in between. All but one of the things I eat has to be 125 calories or less, then I can have whatever I want for a main meal and beverages. I’ve been having 2 fruit cups, 2 low-cal muffins, and a generous TV dinner. I was 147.something 4 days ago, then for 3 days in a row, I was 142.6. Each month, if I can get my monthly high to be my old monthly low, then I’ve got it made. So that means that right before my next period which is due September 11th, I don’t want to be over 142.6 pounds.

I’ve also been jogging through the place in combination with bouncing on my exercise ball for about 20 minutes a day. The good thing about it is knowing that I dropped my weight. Not a poverty spell, not some evil foster mother, nor any nasty jail food, but me! I did this myself.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 2008 My day wasn’t off to a great start. After 6 failed attempts to boot into Windows, I jumped over to OSX for a while. Then I couldn’t figure out how to get back into Windows. Once I finally remembered, it took me two tries before I made it in. There are so many things I hate and love about Windows and OSX. I wish I could have it all in one reliable place! I hate computers as much as I love them and haven’t been able to imagine life without them since ’93.

Our weekly shoot-out began at 6:00 this evening and lasted about 15 minutes. This time I spoke with Jesse, and as it turns out, he’s not such a bad guy, just dumb at times. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t hear the shots because he’d just walked in the door when I called which was several minutes after the last round of shots.

No, there isn’t a hunting season around here, so no, they shouldn’t be shooting, he says. He said we may hear shots on July 4th or New Year’s Eve, but there hasn’t been a problem since a long time ago when some renter in back was shooting and the neighbors, also renters, called the cops on them. Well, as I told him, I don’t scare easily, but this makes me nervous because I worry that they’re going to hit the house. We don’t know if they know what they’re doing or if they’re just a bunch of drunks without a care in the world for those around them. They must not care that much since they’re shooting in the first place, experienced and sober or not. This is the kind of racket you make in the city, so what they’re doing out here is a mystery to me.

Jesse said he’d go and talk to the renters, which he did before coming to talk to me. The renters behind the bedroom side of our place said that new renters next to them, which would be behind the kitchen end of the place, recently moved in and they were the ones doing the shooting (funny how they move in right after we do). So anyway, Jesse’s going to have a talk with them. He said something about finding his dog down there one time where his property line ends. He said he’s the only one in this area with 9 acres (we jumped up an acre) and that the other parcels are smaller. So there are a lot of rentals in back. Another curse we still can’t escape; having to live with evil renters. I’m just glad these aren’t just a few feet away, and I hope the shooting stops soon! He also said the shooters have 3 or 4 dogs, which explains the increase in nighttime and early morning barking Tom insists has been coming from in back. Again, ain’t it funny how trouble moves in if we don’t move in with it first? Jesse says he tries to keep his dogs quiet but hasn’t much luck with that when there’s a full moon because that’s when more things come out.

He said to call the cops if it ever got bad, not that I’d ever want to call those corrupt things. Speaking of those little corruptos, one came knocking on Jesse’s door at 2am the other night, looking for someone. He asked if the cops were here. Fortunately not. What was weird was that the pig walked up rather than drove up. At that hour it sounds like someone must’ve escaped from jail or something. Or a drunk driver booked and ran.

Anyway, I appreciate his taking care of this situation, or at least trying to. As pesty as he can be, and despite the shooting, I’d still rather be here than in the city. I feel like we’re less alone with him just up the hill. So even though I’d still rather have a house of our own, I can’t believe he wouldn’t work with us if there ever was a financial crisis again, though I sure as hell hope there isn’t! Also, it’s hard to believe he wouldn’t put us up in a motel or in a room in his house if something ever went wrong with this place. I even told Jesse I wouldn’t mind being here forever if I never won enough money to buy a house of our own. That got me thinking, too. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could one day buy this section of land from him if we really couldn’t ever buy our own place? I wonder if he’d be willing to work out some kind of payment plan with us. Then once the land was paid for, maybe we could build or buy something newer and nicer and have this old trailer hauled out.

What I don’t get is why I can never see any lights glowing in back at night. Especially when there’s no moon. It’s cool that I can’t, though, as I like it pitch black at night.

I’m also wondering about some of the night sounds we’ve been hearing. We always write them off as animals, but what if the time Tom said it sounded like something was walking across the boards in back was really them spying? What if they drove or walked up the little road that leads to the drive, then walked down here when there was just enough moonlight to see their way around, but not enough to be spotted?

He said the water’s now drinkable, which is good cuz I like to have the option of both bottled and tap water. He said he went down and checked and that the well was doing better. But pests will be pests, so that means he’ll still be coming around. He’s going to install a water filter (yeah I knew there’d be something else once the well was working better), plus he’ll be down in a couple of weeks to finish the roof. Says he’s got to cut the metal sheets first.

I gave him our cell number and explained why that would be the best number to call for non-emergencies, though I’m not sure he gets it. We’ll just have to wait and see.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 20, 2008 In the 3 years and 3 months I’ve been sweeping, I’ve had 6 big wins. A Caribbean cruise, $2500, a trip to Italy, a large high-def TV, $9000, and a 3K Apple shopping spree. That’s an average of one big win every 6 months. So I hope this means I’ll win big again before the year is out, seeing that I won the Apple shopping spree in May. I wasn’t notified till June, though.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 19, 2008 Got a surprisingly generous coffee sample from Starbucks. This sample will easily make about 10 cups! I’ve joined a sample site and so every day I sign up to receive free samples in the mail.

I learned how to do headers in my tell-all journal in my word processor so I could set it up to display entry titles (it centers and bolds the text). It doesn’t open that day when you click on it, though, since it’s all on the same page. I just like the idea of entry titles like on Kiwi. I put them under the dates. I’m going back and doing my entire California journal, but not the others. It’d take forever to go through 20 years’ worth of journals!

Tom doesn’t expect to hear from anyone about jobs until next week. I’m just glad paying September’s rent appears to be no problem! It’s always tough when changing jobs, so unless we’re surprised with him landing a better-paying job than we expect, I’m sure I’ll just move on to worry about October’s rent after that.

So far my top 3 favorite Kiwiers are Jasmine, Alison and RainbowLesbian, whose real name is Jessica. They’re all gay. Well, Alison’s bi. Jasmine and I comment on each other’s journals daily, but Alison and Jessica aren’t online every day. Jessica and I have been reading and commenting more on each other’s journals lately, and she just told me she loves my story journal. I was like, wow, really?! So Alison’s not the only one reading them after all.

It’s hard to believe we’ve been here almost as long as we were in motels! The time really does pass by faster when you’re in a better place.

MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 2008 Once again, I was hungry and homeless in my dreams last night, but at least my allergy problems have stopped. I haven’t taken the snot spray in quite a while now. But are they better because the spells worked, or because whatever was out there causing them has ceased to exist? Hmmm…guess I’ll never know for sure. I’m just glad I’m not sneezing like crazy anymore!

Due to the temperature being down a bit I had to hear a few barking spells. And Tom thought it was a time-of-day thing. I’m still pretty sure it’s a temperature thing, though.

I hate these rats. Not enough to dump them, but I sure miss having sociable rats that like to be handled. These things are just way too timid, and trying to get them to return home after running around loose is next to impossible. I’m not even letting them out today. They’ve really gone and abused that privilege. Maybe if they suffer from being cooped up for a while, they’ll realize that abusing their freedom means they lose it, but these rats are just incredibly dumb for rats. We’ve never had rats this dumb before. They may miss coming out, but they’re hardly suffering in reality. They manage to play and keep themselves entertained at home.

I hope that when Tom gets home in a couple of hours he’ll have emails and even phone calls to tell me about pertaining to new job possibilities. Better yet, I’d love for him to get an actual interview!

SUNDAY, AUGUST 17, 2008 Got a missed call this morning from a blocked number, but Tom says he gets those all the time. I still don’t expect to hear from Andy, but whatever’s meant to be will be. Unless Marla didn’t get the letter, though, perhaps she just has yet to get a hold of him to tell him about it, or maybe he’s taking his time to think about it.

Now that I’ve found this really cool online journal, I don’t have much to say lately. I guess that’s a good thing, though, cuz usually, when I have a lot to say, it’s not very good.

I just hope Tom gets a job real soon and that we get our savings back up. I’d like to always have at least a couple of grand after the rent’s been paid. That way, if the transmission went out on the car or something like that, we’d be covered. If it went out right now, though, we’d be pretty damn screwed.

I just wish I could stop worrying that the past is going to return to haunt us! Nearly losing your life really leaves your emotions pretty tangled up. I’m more appreciative of the good things, but I’m always paranoid and worrying, too. I’m still having “motel nightmares,” and I know it’ll probably be a while before they back off. The same thing happened after jail. I had all kinds of dreams about being stuck back there, and now I’m stuck back in that damn motel room all over again, writing my “death note,” giving details of what happened and family contact info for whoever was to find our bodies.

sighs I think I’ll go try to work on my book for a while.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 2008 Finally, a good win! Not a biggie, but a goodie. I got Flirtatious perfume worth $35. What’s interesting is that the contest ran for a long time, 6 months, and I was the only winner! Guess that’s the difference between a 1½-star non-premium sweep and a 5-star premium sweep. It’s got a nice sweet, sugary smell, and reminds me of cotton candy. I wonder if these are the same people who were supposed to send the Glamourazzi perfume. Maybe they sent this instead by accident, but it doesn’t matter either way, cuz this one smells great.

Tom tried to install and run parallels on my computer so I could use both OSX and Windows, but it corrupted my word processor and we had to reload it. That’s when I said fuck OSX! I’m not going to bother with it at all. I’ll just stick with what’s been working for me, and Tom seems to have solved the boot-up crashing problem I was having. He just needed to update a certain program.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 2008 Another scorching hot day. I wish it was this way year-round. Keeps things quieter, too. Of course, I can’t say what’s been going on at 3am, since I haven’t been up that late in a while. It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if the dogs were going at least a little crazy. I still think it’ll be just the opposite in the winter with the dogs barking during the daytime and quiet at night.

I haven’t been winning much lately which is a real bummer. Is it compensation for winning big a couple of months ago? Or is it compensation for another big win to come?

THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 2008 Alison gave me positive feedback when reviewing Angel Eyes. I’m surprised she liked it so much! If I had to judge my stories, I’d vote it as one of my worst. Even Tom couldn’t get into it. I’m glad she pointed out the few mistakes I made, too.

I hope the dork up the hill will tell us when he’s switched us back over to the well. Judging by how clear the water in the toilet bowl looks, I’d say there’s a good chance he did. I just wish he’d call to say so if I’m right so I can drink the tap water again, but no, he has to come down in person and bug us that way for everything.

Tom says they’re now short one person on the third shift and that they hope they switch him to it so he’d have more time during the daytime to look for a new job. I can’t believe they even have a third shift still with all the business they’ve lost!

I just hope whatever’s up there won’t let us suffer financially until he does have a new job. I’m tired of money being an issue so often in our lives. Enough is enough!

It was really hot today, around 100º.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 13, 2008 Tom passed the DMV test, which is good, but he has to wait till his license is mailed to him. I just hope it doesn’t take long, even though he’s already got proof enough that he’s an Auburn resident and can therefore start hauling shit to the dump. More importantly, I hope he finds a job closer to home with benefits! He can start putting in applications early next week, which he says is the best time to submit them.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 2008 I still do what I’ve been doing best since we came here – worrying about money. That’s the sucky side of having a tragic experience nearly kill you. While you appreciate things all the more if you survive, you always fear the past is going to return to haunt you. Unless we struck it rich, I think I’ll always worry that we’ll one day be faced with either the streets or death, but at least we’d be a lot more comfortable dying here than on a motel room floor, if God forbid, we were ever cursed enough to have our only other choice be to live on the streets. We could go right here in bed without having to worry about interference as long as we did it at night when Jesse was less likely to show up. I just hope God wouldn’t allow us to ever again be put in such a terrifying predicament! He’s allowed enough shit to happen to us as it is! And I hate to think of what He may be putting Paula through right now. Jessie, on the other hand, is no doubt just busy as hell.

Tom decided to go to the DMV here in Auburn tomorrow, rather than by the Carmichael box today because from what he could see online, he should only have a 10-minute wait. Then on the 15th, he’ll return one last time to Carmichael and close that box out for good. Then he shouldn’t ever again have to go to that area.

I hope I’ll feel better once he’s settled in a new job somewhere and that we don’t struggle too badly until he is! Right now I feel like we’re never going to have any real security in life. If only I could win a few grand right now. Our savings is just about gone so a cash win would help. A fellow Kiwier recommended a couple of paid email/survey sites that really do pay you for your time without telling you that you don’t qualify after you waste time on their surveys, but it doesn’t pay much. Them making Tom lose nearly a week of work really hurt us probably more than he’ll ever admit for fear of me worrying even more. I still fear that money will be a problem for us for the rest of our lives. At least for the most part. If God hadn’t gone and cursed me with such a freak sleep disorder and driving phobia, then we’d probably hardly ever have any problems. None that serious anyway. I still have to wonder, what kind of God does this to a person? Why does He hate me so much to inflict that upon me along with all the other problems I’ve had? I keep thinking there’s got to be a reason, that I’ve got to have done something to deserve it, but I’m not sure what. There are people out there with faults far worse than mine that have much easier lives.

Alison said she’s in the middle of Angel Eyes and likes it very much, and I have another subby for my day-to-day journal.

Later…

I was laying around thinking that it was a bummer that my friends are so far away and that our families are the way they are, not just to help us out of any jams we may get into, but because it makes me feel we’re all the more alone in this world. Tom doesn’t feel as I do, but sometimes I just feel so alone.

Then I burst into tears, not so much because of that, but because feelings of guilt over dumping Andy nearly a decade ago hit me like never before. I’ve had my guilty moments over the years and have thought of contacting him at times, but always figured he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, not that I’d blame him. Walking away from my family was one thing as they were abusive to me, but walking away from Andy simply because he could be annoying at times and we’d grown so different was cruel and I’m sorry I ever did such a thing.

So I searched online, got nothing new in Massachusetts, and 3 addresses I’ve known him to live in Phoenix that I can’t imagine he’d still be at after all these years. That’s when I struggled to remember Marla’s last name. Fortunately, I did and found an address for her in Hayward where I remember her to live. I don’t know if she’s still there, but I decided to send a letter there, letting her know how bad I feel over what I did, and asking that she pass along my contact info. I enclosed my email address and cell number, and of course the address is on the envelope. Not knowing if she’d get the letter, I didn’t go into much of what’s gone on with us but simply said we left Arizona, lived in Oregon, and are now in California. As I told her, if all I could do was say “I’m sorry,” that would be better than nothing even if he chose not to contact me. I asked her to tell him that I love him, think of him a lot, and hope he’s happy and healthy in every way possible.

So what do I think will happen at this point? Well, if Marla gets the letter, I’m pretty sure she’ll pass it on to Andy, but I’m not sure Andy will respond. Guess all I can do is leave that to fate and hope for the best. Maybe add a few prayers, too.

MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 2008 Once again I tried OSX, Mac’s operating system, and once again it sucks. I should’ve known better than to bother paying for its pitiful version of Robo I thought I might be able to fine-tune. We’re going to get the $35 we wasted on it back. It’s only got a couple of cool features like the webcam and the reader. The reader not only reads text right in the document rather than copies it to a clipboard, but it also has some pretty funky voices. One sang a letter I typed to Mary to the tune of Pomp & Circumstance. I also liked how you can put it to sleep rather than shut it down, whereas the best I can do with Windows is hibernate it. Other than that, everything else sucked. I can’t think of one other good thing about it. The things that are normally such simple tasks to perform were either a bitch or totally impossible. You can’t even do color schemes or change cursors!

I’m swapping comments with Jasmine just about every day in regards to entries, and in the last two days, I’ve heard from Key too, regarding my bitching about OSX, which she herself uses.

I just get sick of those Kiwiers that always have to be on top. They constantly “edit” their journal just so it’s in the top 20, which is all they show.

One girl left an entry that included a couple of sites that pays people to read emails. She said she got $60 that she transferred to her PayPal account. They pay every month. I sent a note asking how long she’s been a member. If she had to read 10,000 emails to get the $60, then I’m not so sure it’s worth it. But it is free, so the worst I can get is spammed to hell and I already do, thanks to those running contests that feel obligated to pass people’s emails on to everyone in the world.

Haven’t heard from Jessie in ages. No calls, no emails, no nothing. I hope she’s just busy and that nothing’s wrong.

Tom and I went to Walmart and shopped to the usual tune of unruly kids.

Now that he got his birth certificate, the next step is getting a license. That means it’s off to wait forfuckingever at the MVD tomorrow. Then hopefully – hopefully – if God is with us Tom will get a new job closer to home that offers benefits that won’t cost half his income to receive!

I should add that I haven’t heard from Paula in ages. She’s always been a little out of it, but she never used to go this long without writing or calling. I hope she’s ok, too. I checked for any news online and came up empty. I hope she’s not sick or in jail! She no longer has her cell phone.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 10, 2008 I hate this Apple PC! Better yet I hate running Windows on it cuz it takes forever to boot up! It boots and crashes, boots and crashes, over and over again. I’ve got to have him switch me to the Mac’s own operating system. The only sucky thing is that the Robo that works with it is beyond shitty. I’m basically going to have to fill out forms myself because it’s so half-assed, and practically give up everything else I do. I’ll edit my sweeps down a bit, but it’ll still be a huge amount of work.

Two nights ago I dreamt I won $500. Hope that means I’m sitting on a good one!

FRIDAY, AUGUST 8, 2008 Tom has the next 4 days off, and this time he’ll be paid for it!

No one called back about the shooting, but I wonder, could it be Jesse? He’s got to own at least part of the ditch area to have a well there, he wasn’t home when I called (although I heard someone drive in not long afterward), so it makes me wonder. Tom doesn’t think so and he doesn’t think there’s a hunting season around here either. I hope he’s right and that someone puts a stop to whoever it is. If it’s a bunch of crazy drunks having a good time, then I not only have to worry about being woken up and annoyed by the noise when I am awake, but then I also have to worry about the house being hit as well.

I wonder why no one called if only to say they didn’t know anything about it. Maybe because it really was him or they were offended by my complaining about there being barking “all around here,” and knew that I was talking about his dogs. I was, but there’s one in back somewhere that can be just as annoying.

Anyway, it’s been dead quiet all day today.

In case I haven’t already said so, I’m done updating my autobiography for who knows how many years. I just hope that the next update won’t include anything nearly as bad as last fall!!! I still wonder how we survived it.

Alison hasn’t been turned against me by the immature assholes on KB. In fact, she’s had issues with Amber, too. She was not only busy but unable to access kiwinotes for a while. Yeah, some people were complaining about that, but fortunately that wasn’t one of the many problems I had. I still love Kiwi as much as I hate it. I mean, I hate the site’s layout, it’s very tricky to navigate and is set up by a bunch of dumb-ass amateurs, but it’s still lots of fun. I just wish they had a better prize selection and a more straightforward setup.

Alison subbied to my main journal and says she’ll catch up on my stories soon. She and Jasmine are definitely my favorites there.

The Olympics are to be held in Beijing this year and I’m looking forward to watching the gymnastics online. That’s my favorite of the summer games, as figure skating is of the winter games.

Won a $20 Kmart Gift Card from the Kmart Hulk Text2Win Promotion.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 7, 2008 Oh, that fucking rude asshole up the hill! The dog’s fucking whining its ass off. How utterly rude of him to let this happen every single fucking morning! He lets the big one bark at 3am, and the other one whines early in the morning. It is so damn obnoxious! How can he stand it himself? And how can he not give a damn about us? He knows damn well Tom sleeps in. Just because Tom’s a heavy sleeper doesn’t make this rudeness ok. It’s annoying as hell to hear even when we’re up. I was a little worried my music was too loud, but you know what? I don’t give a damn anymore if he hears me or not! I just don’t fucking give a damn! I hear his motors, his dogs, so fuck him. Just fuck him!

I knew this place seemed too good to be true. I’m already looking for other places. Not actively seeking to move, but just keeping my eyes open as to what’s out there. If we can get a place that doesn’t have a well or the owner living on the land, and that has direct mail and trash service without the nearest neighbor being an arm’s length away, it may be worth looking into if it’s comparable in rent. I hate to move again, but I can’t ask my own landlord to shut his dogs up and leave us the hell alone to live in peace. The best I can do is enclose a note with the next rent payment asking that he call when it comes to non-emergencies and hope he has the decency to do so. It’s just that 90% of the things he’s coming down for are emergencies and I’m getting sick of his little emergencies, real or not, and the fucking dogs! He’s coming down here more than Scot came to the Maricopa house! More than I ever had any invited company in Phoenix or back east. Part of the reason we wanted seclusion was to keep people away from our door like religious and salespeople. Instead, we’ve got this little shit bugging us every 1-2 weeks. Yet if I complain he’ll probably just be like, “Well, I own this place, you don’t. So if you don’t like it, leave, and I’ll find new renters.” I personally would try to please my renters just as I would my customers if I had a store, but that’s just me and I know most people aren’t like that. They’d rather simply not deal with those who aren’t happy. Period. I may not be unhappy, but I’m not happy lately either, and you know how Tom is. He’d rather me be annoyed than open my mouth. He’s paranoid that complaining, no matter how kindly we went about it, would get us tossed out. Yeah, but WE’RE the ones paying HIM!

I know one thing for sure and that’s that he’s full of shit about going back to work. Yeah, when? When has he been working? Unless he’s working an hour or two each day or smashed another finger, we see vehicles up there all the time when we come and go.

And the motorcycle story Maryann told us when we first came to see the place just doesn’t jive. I don’t know why it took 4 months for it to hit me, but if someone was going to steal his motorcycle, why would they leave it at the end of the road? Wouldn’t they take it somewhere else if they were going to keep it, or sell it if they wanted to sell it? That sounds like a revenge thing. Like Jesse did something to piss the last people off. They may’ve been jerks, but it sounds like Jesse did some shit himself.

Later…

The trigger-happy psycho’s back in the ditch. Yeah, I figured it would be. There were only 3 shots fired this time, but what if I was asleep? I’d not only be woken up for damn sure, but it’s so damn annoying to listen to when I’m awake! It puts the Maricopa shots to shame, right along with Jesse’s ATV and beasts.

I really wanted to know if Jesse knew what was up with this, so I called up there but got no answer. So I left Maryann a message and added that lately there’s been “barking all-around” late at night and early morning. I figured that was a good time to subtly yet obviously let them know it bothers me. I added that I was “surprised” and wondered where it came from, hoping it’d stop soon. I told her there was no hurry getting back to us and that she could call either the landline or Tom’s cell. Anyway, I’d guess it is legal and that hunting season started after the 1st. Nice of them to tell us if that really is the case, huh? Now I’ll have to deal with that as often as I have to deal with dumb shit coming down here. Wish he could be a gorgeous woman to make his visits a little more worth it!

I told Tom why I thought the motorcycle story sounded like a crock, and he thinks they did try to steal it and that they wheeled it down the drive. But once they realized it was too heavy to lift up into a vehicle, they just left it there.

I’m sorry they failed to succeed, even though he’d have just gone and gotten a new one.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6, 2008 Once again we’re back to playing water games. Starting late last night the pressure has been low. Right on time, too. No wonder he can’t keep renters for long. I can hear him on the ATV going to and from the well, but I still wonder how much of these near-weekly problems are of his own fabrication as an excuse to come down here. If he’s that paranoid of us, why doesn’t he just plop a hidden camera on the hillside and keep an eye on us that way?

And I’m getting sick of the late-night/early-morning barking, too! Arrrggghhh!

Well, I’ll be damned. I just up and peed and found the water pressure back to normal. Ah, but I’m sure he’ll just have to come down anyway.

Later…

Right on time. Yeah, dumb cock came ATVing down to tell us he filled the tank with ditch water (though we haven’t been hooked up to the ditch), so don’t drink the water. Tom then asked if he had the landline number so he could “save himself a trip” next time, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he were too stupid to get that what that really means is STOP COMING DOWN HERE! Yet I’m sure he’ll be back anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks to hook us up to the ditch as he continues to be too stupid to get his floats straight. That’s what Tom’s pretty sure is the problem. What I didn’t know myself was that when we were hooked up to the ditch, that was actually a shallow well. I had thought it was just a pump sitting down in the ditch itself. Anyway, living here is still way better than being in the city, but between his stupidity and the barking I’d really love to thread the dog’s tails down his throat and out his ass, then bury all 3 of them in the hillside and take over the land ourselves! Man, I wish we owned it. The only good thing about not owning it is not having to pay to fix things.

Meanwhile, if he continues to come down for non-emergencies (although it’s quite a coincidence the amazing amount of emergencies he has), I’ll call Maryann and explain to her that hey, I don’t think he understands that one of us is on nights half the time and a very light sleeper. And so I get woken up half the time he comes down. I’ll also see what she has to say about the barking too, though if they barked last night I wouldn’t know it. I slept until 5am. One of them whines for a few minutes every morning between 6:30 - 7:30, presumably because it hears him getting up. The barking’s not nearly as annoying as him coming down here (as long as it doesn’t go on for hours or many times a day) because my sound machine is loud enough to keep it from waking me up. The ATV, however, is not.

I just wonder how much longer this shit with the well is going to go on, and what will come next after that? Even more so, I wonder how much of it is intentional so he has an excuse to come down.

Tom’s allergies are bugging him today. Mine, amazingly, isn’t going off today even though I went out yesterday. Maybe this snot spray really does help!

We went to pick up the mail yesterday. The package was just a light bulb. Man, I ain’t winning shit lately, and when I do, it seems I don’t get the prize! The question is, is this compensation for the Apple win? Or am I sitting on another biggie?

TUESDAY, AUGUST 5, 2008 I got the lip gloss from Kiwi. It’s just so-so, right along with the temp tat and rings I got. I almost wish I could get back the points I used for these things, but I wanted to try them anyway. The lip gloss is flavorless and doesn’t provide much moisture at all, the tat wore off almost as fast as I applied it, and the purple ring is too dark.

Another night of scattered barking. I’m getting closer to calling up there and asking what’s up with that and seeing if he can put the damn dogs on the other side of the house if he’s not going to take them indoors. I just hope it isn’t a temperature thing! If it is it’ll be like being back in the city from December through February.

I received another OLS friend request after commenting on this lady’s personal quote that I liked. Something to the effect of being happier when she’s worrying about what’s going on in her own life versus the lives of strangers. As I told her, I not only totally agree, but I don’t understand why so many people think things should be one way or another. Take gay marriage and abortion, for example. Why not let those who want these things get them, and those who don’t not get them? We don’t only sell one flavor of ice cream simply because not everyone likes other flavors.

Anyway, I had to laugh (not directly to her, of course) when I read that she’s been sweeping since 1985 and her biggest prize was 5 grand. And here I’ve been sweeping since 2005 and my biggest prize was 9 grand! Once again, not everyone’s psychic. I just wish I could get good enough to win a house or at least enough money to buy one outright! The first of 3 home giveaways just expired. On the 15th will be another one, then a million-dollar house in Florida expires on 9/30. They’re all dailies.

Nothing exciting in the mail, though there is an oversized package awaiting us. It could be anything from a package to a large envelope containing these damn travel packages I get to his birth certificate. Unless it’s something way good, we hope it’s the certificate for which they finally took the money. Hopefully, soon enough he can get the hell out of the shithole he’s working in now and into something closer that’ll provide benefits. Again, we don’t care if it pays shitty. Sure we’d rather it didn’t, but getting him closer to home so we can save on gas and getting me to a dentist and ear doctor is more important right now. Wish I could win at least a grand just to cover all the co-payments when this finally happens, if it ever really does, before I’m 65 and automatically insured in 23 more years!

MONDAY, AUGUST 4, 2008 The rats got so huge that we decided to move them into one of the bigger cages, the first one we got. So Tom pulled it out of the shed and I cleaned it in the tub with the shower massager and set it up for them. They seem much happier now that they’ve got more room to play in. It’ll be a little more work for me cleaning-wise, but they’re worth it, even though these aren’t the greatest rats we’ve ever had. They don’t bite which is most important.

It was a bad dog night there for a while. Around 2:00 the dogs went off for about 10 minutes, plus there were scattered barks afterward. I don’t think it was just them either. I still think someone recently moved down in the ditch somewhere, so Jesse must not own that entire area. That’d explain the lunchtime food smells Tom’s smelled lately, the gunshots, and increased barking. I know most people think it’s A-OK to leave dogs outdoors 24/7 and to make as much racket as they want, but how do people sleep through such noise? And how can they have no courtesy to their neighbors whatsoever?

SUNDAY, AUGUST 3, 2008 I’m almost finished updating my autobiography. It’ll be a few more days before it’s all posted on Kiwi.

Last night I dreamt Tom was working the numbers and said the money was “dwindling.” It’s dreams like this that can be scary to someone known to have dream premonitions, but he assured me everything was fine. I hope so! Especially since it wasn’t here. It was in a big old house in New York of all places.

While I still don’t believe there’s any future with the horses, Tom’s learning a new programming language that runs on the new Mac. He’s encouraged, saying he’s learned that it’s not as complex as he thought it would be.

I had my first two wins of the month already. A sample of Colgate Total toothpaste, and an $88 beauty kit. It contains shower gels, lotions, cleansers, toners – stuff I love.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 2008 I was pissed today, now yesterday, for a couple of reasons. First, I was woken up by gunshots of all things. Yeah, there’s always got to be something cursing my sleep. It sounded like a pistol down in the ditch, but I never saw anything. As far as we know you’re not allowed to fire a gun in this area, and also, hunting season would never be during fire season. Fortunately, it didn’t go on for long, but now that’s one more thing I gotta worry about waking me when I’m on nights.

Jesse said the tank still wasn’t filling well when Tom called to let him know the rent was in his box. He didn’t say anything about the roof or anything else, but I’m sure he’ll be down here for something soon enough.

I still hear a few scattered barks here and there between 11pm – 7am, but nothing overwhelming lately.

The other thing that pissed me off was the mail people at the jail. I sent a letter with a sheet of 7 small pictures on it and specifically enclosed a note asking that they not return the letter to me if the enclosed picture sheet wasn’t acceptable due to the cost of stamps these days and that they just disregard the picture sheet, but what did the assholes do? Well, they returned the whole thing of course. They enclosed a little note of their own saying “pic size.” Tom said I should’ve cut them up so it wouldn’t be seen as a collage, but how could they have seen it as a collage? The pictures in a collage touch and overlap. This was clearly several pictures on one sheet of paper, not one big picture. Would it really have been all that hard for them to pick up a pair of scissors and cut them out if that was the problem? I don’t think that was the problem, though. Remember, I was kind of famous too, so they no doubt recognized my name and are going to fuck with me no matter what.

Tom suggested I cut them up and try again, but no way! I’m not going to play games with these people. As long as it’s me sending pictures in, they’ll be returned no matter what. Hell, they’ll say the colors are too damn bright or something, and we don’t need our time and money thrown away like that. I totally should’ve known better. I really should have. Therefore we’re back to waiting for her to get out of there if she ever does. They’ll look so much better on a computer anyway. If Nathan can get some in to her from Webshots, more power to him.