#Now some of it is over 7 years old and hurts me to view but... yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yo-yo-yeonkai · 1 year ago

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PAGES OF OUR YOUTH - CHOI YEONJUN - SFW

Choi Yeonjun x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning list: Childhood bestie! Yeonjun, non-idol AU!, a slow burn, possessiveness, misunderstanding, they are both so clueless it hurts, underage drinking, alcohol, parties, swears, not proofread entirely, let me know if I missed any,

Word count: 14,070

Summary: You both kept dairies growing up and reading them now shows the desperate yet beautiful love story you had… who knew two people could view things so differently.

A/N: All of (Y/N)'s writing will be in italics with a pink date, whilst Yeonjun's will have a blue date, Anything their daughter says or is current time will be in bold

Extra: I’m sorry this is so long… it is interesting though, I promise!!!!

Happy Birthday Yeonjun <3

Fuck it was dusty up here, how dare Dad send her up here, she was practically choking on the air. Smelled old…like him, she laughed at her own jokes and kept searching for it. Why did she have to ask dumb questions….

A few days ago, she asked ‘’some parents have a box of their child’s things, do you have one for me?’’, and to that, her dad said, ‘’yeah, if you want it, it’s in the attic with a pink lid, it has your name on it. it’s easy to find’’.

Her dad offered to go and get it at that point, but she said no. God how she wished she’d said yes... this was unbearable.

It was clean up here but somehow dusty as fuck, the light shone over all the specs, and she could clearly tell which things had been moved more recently than others. She found the box, among other boxes. One said her mum’s name and one her dad’s name… cool they have childhood boxes too…

Let's see how ugly they were as children!

But what met her was much more confusing, it was a letter, from her mum to her dad, it was in her dad’s box. And the next one was, and each one had a date…

Oooo, what if she was to line them all up in timeline order? She was going to… because she was curious! But first, she had to clean this room and get her bean bag up here. That is how the 18-year-old dove into her parent's memories, not so accidentally finding out all about their relationship.

Once each note or letter was lined up in the folder of a book, and she acquired her parent's childhood diaries from the bottom of their boxes, she began flicking through them.

2005, September, 5

School today! It was okay. Beth tried to take my snack. She is mean! The teacher told her off. Mum says good. So do I. New boy in school. He wasn’t here last time. Where did he come from? I don’t remember his name. he looked weird.

2005, September, 5

School started. It was a new one. I don’t like it. nobody spoke to me. This girl got a bully told off. That was cool. I think her name was (Y/N). She seemed smart.

2005, September, 7

New boy lives next door! Mum made me say hello. I said no. but she never hears me. She must not like me. I love my mum. She must hate me. I feel sad. I still don’t know his name. he didn’t say hello. He must hate me. Now I’m sadder.

2005, September, 7

(Y/N) is my neighbour. She came over with her parents. I got scared because she is cool. She said hi. I didn’t. I’m mean. She probably thinks I’m stupid.

2005, October, 16

Mum keeps making me go to his house. I don’t want to speak. Not to him. He looks at me weird. He must hate me to the max. Mum says no. She is a liar. His parents are nice. Not as good as mine. Good. My mum and his mum are friends. Just like me and Hana. Good. Mum should have friends as well.

2005, October, 21

They keep coming to my home. Mum and Dad say it is because we are friends. I didn’t know. Me and her are friends? ok.

2005, November, 19

New boy stayed in his room when we came over. His mum said he was sick. She lied. I could hear him singing. It was good. I like singing too. Maybe we can be friends. I’m bad at singing. He will think I suck. We can’t be friends.

2005, November, 19

They are at my house now. I locked myself in my room. Mum told me to come out or (Y/N) wouldn’t want to be my friend. I don’t care. She scares me. She is quiet at school but loud with her parents. She must be a transformer or something weird. I’ll block her out with my singing.

2005, December, 17

Nearly Christmas! So excited! Mum told me to give Yeonjoon something. I asked Mum his name. I had to write it on a card. He is Yeonjoon. I don’t know what to get him. We aren’t even friends. He is just a weirdo. Maybe he’d like a rock as well? Do all kids like them? Hana doesn’t. But I do! Yeonjoon probably won’t.

2005, December, 21

Christmas. I can’t wait to get new toys. Dad made me sign a card for (Y/N). ok. Mum said I should pick her a flower for Christmas. There are no flowers around. I looked. Mum must have meant it as a joke. I should’ve laughed instead of being serious.

2005, December, 25

Yeonjoon’s family is coming over today. I don’t want them to. This day is meant to be for my family! Not other families. Mum says I should spend time with people I like. I told her I didn’t like him. She told me that was mean. Oh well. I must go now. The doorbell is ringing.

I’m back. I showed Yeonjoon Yeonjun my rocks, he didn’t care. I knew I shouldn’t have offered him one. He took it anyway. It was the small one, named Sam. I liked that one. I hope he doesn’t lose it.

2005, December, 25

Christmas today. I just opened all my presents. I got so many cool things. Mum told me to get ready because we are going to (Y/N)’s house after lunch. I decided not to fight it. Today should be happy. So I will be.

I’m home. We went to (Y/N)’s house. Food was yummy. (Y/N) spelt my name wrong on the card, so I corrected her. She seemed sad. I was sad she spelt it wrong. I got hers right.

We went to her room to play. She collects rocks. That’s not normal. She gave me one as a gift. It was weird but I picked one. The smallest one so she wouldn’t get sad. She called it Small Sam. It was funny that it had a name. I’ll keep him in my bedside table, so I don’t lose it. first Christmas gift I got from a friend.

2006, January, 29

I know Yeonjun lost Sam, he’s not in Yeonjun’s room. my small rock baby died. Because of Yeon-poop-jun. I hate him.

2006, January, 29

She was mad today. She was looking all around my room. I asked her what she wanted. She said she was only looking. Weird girl. It was kind of funny. I hope she wasn’t judging.

2006, April, 2

Yeonjun came over again today, he brought Sam. We played with rocks. He even went to the garden and found his own rock. Why is he nice? I’m sorry Yeonjun for thinking you killed Sam. I’m glad you like rocks as well.

2006, April, 2

I went to (Y/N)’s house because I was bored. Mum told me I should see if she wanted to play. So I brought Small Sam because I know she likes rocks. She was happy. We played rocks. She had more rocks to play with than me. I went to her garden and found my own one. I named him Gerard. Seemed right. I had fun even though they were rocks.

2006, June, 14

I had a thought when I was playing with Gerard and Sam. What if (Y/N) is poor and has no money for toys? That would be sad. I told Mum we should get her something. She said no. That (Y/N) had toys. She just likes rocks. Odd.

2006 July, 22

I have nobody to play with apart from Poop-Jun. Summer is boring. I wish my friend lived as close as Yeonjun. then I could play with them. Yeonjun is boring now. He got annoyed with my rocks. I thought he liked them. If he was a rock I’d put him in the toilet and flush it.

2006, July, 22

I went to (Y/N)’s. I was trying to see if she had toys. Mum says she does. I’m not sure. I asked if we could play with something that isn’t rocks. She got sad. I didn’t mean to make her sad. I was just checking if she was poor. If she was. I’d give her a toy. She got mad that I wouldn’t play rocks and kicked me out.

2006, September, 4

I didn’t speak to Yeonjun all summer after the rock thing. I saw him in school today. He has glasses now. He looks silly. I wanted to laugh but I knew I shouldn’t. I kept my head in my book all day.

2006, September, 4

(Y/N) still seemed mad about the rocks when we went back to school. I hoped she wasn’t. I feel bad that she does. She laughed at my glasses. On purpose to get back at me. Mum said I had to keep my glasses. But I hate them now. I don’t want her people to make fun of me.

2006, October, 31

Me and Yeonjun went trick-or-treating together. It was fun. He was a pirate. I was a princess. Our mum’s made us match. We looked good. I had pink hair spray. I looked pretty.

2006, October, 31

Halloween. (Y/N) was a princess. She had pink hair. I thought only adults could have coloured hair. Her mum told me it was fake. I asked if it was a wig. She told me no and showed me it was a spray. She asked me if I wanted some. I did. I got a streak of pink. (Y/N) told me it was pretty. She called me a princess. I was a pirate. But ok.

2007, February, 9

Mum told me Yeonjun and I are two peas in a pod. What does that mean? Peas are gross. Are we gross? Maybe he is but I am not. How mean!

2007, February, 21

Mum said me and (Y/N) are like magnets that could stick together but chose not to. She explained it to me. It was confusing. Magnets have two poles. If you put opposite poles against each other they join. If you put the same poles together they push apart. Is she saying I push (Y/N) apart? Do I need to spin around? I don’t get it.

2007, May, 7

Me and Yeonjun don’t speak in school. Isn’t that weird? Are we friends? I don’t know. But every time I hear a fun song I write it down and put it in his letterbox. I hope he likes it. He likes singing.

2007, June, 29

I was walking home today and I saw a rock. I thought it looked like a heart and I thought of (Y/N). She would like that rock. So I kicked it home and left it near her front gate. Hopefully she will see it and like it. I thought it was cool.

2007, June, 30

You won't believe it! I found the cutest rock ever today. It was near my house's front gate. It looks like a heart. When I looked up I saw Yeonjun with his head out of the door watching me. I decided I’d call it Yeonjun. it seemed fitting. He shouldn’t have been watching if he didn’t want me to use his name. hehehehe!

2007, June, 30

OMG! She just picked up the rock and saw me. She smiled at me. Does she know it was me? Oh no. wait. Maybe that isn’t bad.

2007, August, 1

I heard Yeonjun singing one of the songs I suggested today. So I asked how he knew it. I hoped he didn’t know it was me. He said his parents write notes for him to suggest him songs. He says the songs are good. That’s good! Because it isn’t his parents. It’s me!

2007, August, 1

(Y/N) complimented the song I was singing today. I’ll have to thank Mum and Dad for suggesting it. she seemed happy that she knew the song. Note to self: It’s one of her favourites.

She closed the diaries and sighed, ‘’Dad, that note to self was not helpful. How am I meant to know what song was Mum’s favourite? Grandma and Nana were doing all the work, goddam. Going to have to make a few phone calls after this. God, they were so clueless back then. Dad clearly likes her!’’. The slow-burn love story was driving her crazy, but she was invested. How did her parents fall in love? This would be the perfect inspiration for her creative writing project.

She picked up the next diaries, it looked like they were in secondary school now.

2010, September, 4

Looks like me and Yeonjun are still going to the same schools, how annoying. I thought I would finally be able to escape him, but I was dreadfully wrong. Yeonjun’s mum told me about us being magnets yesterday. She is clearly crazy. Me and Yeonjun aren’t even the same creation. He is cool and talented, and I’m just me. Was she just trying to show off her son and make me feel bad? Probably not, but it worked.

2010, September, 10

Apparently, the school want us to keep diaries, so we can stay in touch with ourselves and our mental health. Bullshit if you ask me. But whatever. I like writing, but when I’m forced to like this, it makes me want to shove a pen in my eye. Same way seeing (Y/N) at school does. She’s always around me, I feel like we are joined! I just want to grab a pair of scissors and cut the thread connecting us!

WAIT…. NOOOOO! I just made myself think about the red thread of fate! Oh, fuck no! Brb, going to die.

2010, November, 13

Yeonjun is so popular at school that it hurts. I used to be the only one that knew he was talented, but now it's different. He wants the whole school to know so he can climb the social ladder. What a bitch. He’s just rubbing it in my face that I’m not cool, I’m just a nerdy quiet girl. Well, fuck him!

2010, November, 27

(Y/N) was in the library again today, I could see her as I left to go to the field. She’s always in there. Maybe I could convince her to come and play with me? I doubt it. she hates talking to me at school. Fine, whatever she wants…

2010, December, 24

Yeonjun won’t be here this Christmas, he’s gone to spend it with more family. It’s weird knowing he won’t be coming for dinner, he has been since we were 6, we are 12 now. OH, MY GOD, I’ve known him for 6 years. GROSS!

2010, December, 24

(Y/N) told me to have a nice time visiting my family when I saw her earlier, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Maybe she feels the same way I do. I love my family but, in a way, (Y/N) and her family became part of my Christmas. We’ve spent 6 Christmases together, it will feel wrong without her, I know that much.

2010, December, 25

Christmas was great, in a way it was peaceful without Yeonjun around. But I'm not sure if I like that or not yet. It felt a little dull without him, but I still had fun. I felt really close with Mum and Dad today, it hasn’t been like this in years.

2010, December,25

It sucks here! Not even my cousins could make me feel better. I want to go back home. I should be happy… I haven’t seen my family all together like this in years. But thoughts of (Y/N) keep coming to mind, and I miss her. I hope she’s at least had a nice Christmas. I’ll call her later, so I know she isn’t bored without me.

2011, January, 1

Happy New Year! Yeonjun came last night and surprised me and my family. It was nice, so nice I forgot to write about it. I’m glad I got to speak to him in person again because his calls every evening got boring. He danced and sang a lot last night, he made all the grown-ups laugh. I wish I could bring joy to people like that. I’m jealous.

2011, January, 1

It’s the new year now. Mum told me to make a resolution. I told her I did, but I'm a stinking liar. I know I’m not going to stick to that. Perhaps I should make it something like ‘’call (Y/N) every night to annoy her’’ or maybe something useful like ‘’sign up to dance club’’. Maybe the last one is smart. I don’t like the other one, I don’t want to annoy (Y/N), she’ll only start hating me.

2011, March, 30

Yeonjun started doing dance club recently, and now he’s always late home and late places. I heard our mums talking about it. I couldn’t imagine being late for anything. He's got too much on his plate, he's out of touch with what he's capable of.

2011, April, 7

(Y/N) told me I should start being on time for things today. All because I was late to school and then late to her house after club. It’s not my fault I’m tired and busy. She’s not my mother! She’s got big boots because she does every piece of homework the day it's set and hands it in early. I must be stupid in her eyes. It’s not that I can’t do it… I just can’t time myself well.

2011, May, 18

Rumour got around at school quickly that Yeonjun finally got a detention for his tardiness. I want to say good, but I feel kind of bad. I know he works hard he just can’t organise himself. All he needs is someone to keep him on track. Maybe I’ll message him something like ‘’Do you need my help. We can Facetime and talk about the homework the night it's set, and both get it done together’’. Yeah, that seems nice, I'll message that.

Oooo, he responded. He took me up on my offer. He wants to call now so I’ll go. Time to be a hero…

2011, May, 29

Thank God for (Y/N)! ever since she started helping me, I can control myself a bit better. My homework gets handed in on time and because I’m less stressed, I sleep better, which means I wake up on time for school. She’s a blessing, isn’t she? A little time angel.

2011, July, 6

I regret saying I'd help Yeonjun. he started coming over to my house every evening so we could work on homework together. It’s better this way, but it’s annoying. He doesn’t knock! It drives me crazy. Every time I remind him knocking is a thing he says ‘’Yeah, next time’’. BUT HE NEVER DOES!! Next time I’ll hit him, I swear.

2011, July, 27

I’m so glad the school year is over and me and (Y/N) got closer. I think my New Year’s resolution worked for both ideas I had. ‘’Sign up to dance club’’, well it also did the same thing as ‘’Annoy (Y/N) more’’. Though she doesn’t seem to hate me. Cool!

She put down the book and practically slapped her head ‘’How dumb are you both?’’ she questioned sizing up the next book that seemed to be from year 11. She wonders why there are so many gaps in between. Then she remembers the thing her dad wrote about being forced to keep a diary.

2014, September, 7

School started again… unfortunately. The summer was nice this year. Me and Yeonjun hung out nearly every day. He didn’t really give me a choice, he was always barging in. No, he still hasn’t learnt how to knock. It drives me insane. I punched him in the arm last time, he only laughed like a maniac. Fucking freak.

He’s in my Maths class now, he was the set below last year. Clearly, all the studying I helped him do pay off. I’m proud of myself, and him I suppose. He sits next to me now. He passes me notes. I’ll stick them on the pages.

You look like a nerd when you concentrate, did you know that? -Yeonjun <3

As if I give a fuck, who does he think he is? Sending me notes when I was trying to concentrate like a nerd! That was not helpful Yeonjun!

2014, September, 7

WINNING! I got moved up a set! To (Y/N)’s set, which means I’m a genius by the way. She even sits next to me. That means I can cheat! Not that she’d let me… she believes strongly in hard work, and so do I. That’s why I worked so hard over the summer to get better, I don’t need perfect grades for being a musician, but getting them would be nice.

I sent her a post-it note in maths class, I don’t remember what It said but she sent one back. Why didn’t she just write on the one I gave her and hand it back?

Shut your mouth Poop-Jun, focus. Or you’ll become dumb again <3

-(Y/N)

Did she seriously call me POOP-JUN!! like a child? It’s kinda cute funny!!!!!!!!! I’ll have to make up a dumb name for her. Game on (Y/N)

2014, October, 31

I’m going to a party tonight, for the first time in my life. All because Yeonjun asked… I hate this man. I heard there would be alcohol, we aren’t old enough for alcohol. I voiced my concerns to Yeonjun, but he told me that was normal. What? I didn’t know that… underage drinking is normal. Had he drunk before? Why?

2014, October, 31

I finally convinced (Y/N) to come to the Halloween party with me. Thank fuck. Maybe I can teach her how to drink today before we get to college, and she embarrasses herself. Even if she did, I’d still like her. NOT IN A WEIRD WAY!! I just mean that I’d still be her friend!!

She sighs at her dad and mumbles ‘’I think the boy doth protest too much… nobody asked how you meant it, dad!’’

2014, November, 1

I feel like such a bad child. I need to confess that I drank last night. Not because Yeonjun told me, but because I was curious. He did offer me, but he warned me first. I heard him out but even after his lecture I still did it. he decided not to because I had, and he wasn’t sure if I could take it. Turns out I couldn’t take it that well and Yeonjun tried to take me home, I tried to tell him not to because of my parents. He already knew that though; he’s known my parents for more than half his life!!

We went to his instead and he let me sleep in his bed, he slept on the blow-up bed on his floor. It was weird having a sleepover with him, especially drunk. I remember looking off the bed and seeing him on the floor sleeping peacefully. I wished I could sleep peacefully, but the urge to throw up last night stuck like a nasty bug.

2014, November, 1

Note to self: (Y/N) absolutely can’t drink!!

God, it was so cute funny! She drank quite a lot, more than I'd expected. She seemed to have a lot of fun. But suddenly she kind of fell backwards against me. At first, I thought she was trying to put the moves on me, and I froze, but I quickly realised it was because she was drunk. She was losing control of her body. Though she protested when I tried to take her home, she eventually gave in. under one condition, not her parent's house. Did she think I was an idiot? I already knew that! I wasn’t born yesterday! Her parents might kill both of us. But my parents didn’t care… who do you think drove us home? Dad picked us up and I explained it to him. He came up with the solution of her sleeping over.

I froze once again at the thought… (Y/N), sleeping in my house? That was new! Fine, whatever. I agreed to it. I sent her parents a message on her phone so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Genius.

She was gone when I helped her into my bed, instantly collapsing. It was cu… no I won’t write that again!!!! I kept an eye on her because I didn’t want her throwing up and she looked so red… but even then, she was beau…

Never mind…

‘’NO. Dad, it was right there. You knew it. you liked her!!!! Please tell me you knew it’’ she huffed, frustrated by how her dad kept crossing out words or not finishing them.

2014, November, 10

I told my parents about my drinking; they didn’t actually care because they knew I was safe. They just wished I had come home so they could take care of me instead of me being in the house across. It nearly made me cry when my mum said that. They said at the age of 16 they would rather I didn’t unless I was at home, but that they did it when they were my age. Me and Yeonjun had clearly perceived them all wrong.

When he came flying into my house unannounced, I heard them talking to him downstairs about it so laughed upstairs until he flung my door open, something along the lines of ‘’You could’ve warned me’’ coming out of his mouth. Apparently, he was downstairs trying to fight for my life by keeping up the lie, until my parents told him I’d admitted it. all I could say was ‘’that’s what happens when you don’t ask to come over’’. He was quick to respond though ‘’You love it when I appear’’. He was wrong, I don’t love it, I only like it mildly….

2014, November, 10

How dare she?? I’ve never been more: horrified, shocked, and embarrassed all at the same time… was this revenge for taking her to the party? No… she definitely had fun, she thanked me. What did I do to deserve this? Imagine me lying my ass off to her parents, meanwhile, they know the truth, God there isn’t much worse than that. Practically broadcasting that I’m not the boy they know and love!

When I told her she should’ve warned me she was nonchalant about it all… how dare she be so calm. It annoyed me to see her like that, but it somehow calmed me down at the same time. We sat in her room all evening talking about what had happened at the party, what she actually remembered, how she talks in her sleep.

It was great until I caught her mum on the way out the door. ‘’I know you care about her, so I know you would never let something happen to her. But please don’t lie to me like that again… put some trust in me Yeonjun, and I’ll put my trust in you’’. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and I still don’t. it keeps circling my head, and each time I just want to know what she really meant. Easier said than done.

2014, December, 25

It’s that time of year again. Christmas. I don’t get the same joy I used to get from it now, but Yeonjun still seems thrilled by it. he just wouldn’t hang up the Facetime call last night. We fell asleep on it. I eventually drowned out the sound of him talking and drifted to sleep, but I woke to his sleeping face on my screen and panicked and hung up. It took me by surprise, I thought he would’ve hung up. Unless he accidentally fell asleep.

Even though he knew he’d see me later that day he was texting me things like ‘’GOOD MORNING’’, ‘’MERRY CHRISTMAS’’, ‘’I HAVE THE BEST GIFT FOR YOU THIS YEAR’’. Yes, Yeonjun types in all capitals, he’s on drugs I swear. This year I got him new dancing shoes with money I'd earned from my job, they were the ones he’d wanted for months… and I joined forces with his parents so we wouldn’t both get them for him. I’ll write again once he’s got them. So, I can forever replay the epic moment when he tells me I’m the best friend ever for listening to his never-ending whining.

2014, December, 25

I didn’t wake up on a call with her like I thought I would. Maybe she hung up in her sleep, or the call cut out. When she fell asleep last night to the sound of my voice, I found that so…. I found it very… very peaceful and nice! So, I stayed on call and eventually fell asleep myself. I found it comforting to do so…

Waking up without her on the call was more disheartening than I thought it might be, so I messaged her. No, I spammed her! She must think I’m stupid! She eventually answered me though. ‘’I look forward to giving you your gift! It’s so good, you’ll love it!’’. pshhhh, she thought she had a better gift than I'd got her, she was severely wrong. I’d got her a new set of paints and brushes, the expensive ones she said were out of her reach. She loves painting… and I love looking at her paint.

"Dad you are driving me crazy here, just admit it to yourself’’.

2014, December, 26

Yesterday was crazy! Yeonjun’s family came over and we did gifts like normal. Yeonjun got me the paints I wanted!! I was so glad he listened to my groans and used his brain to get me them. I have no clue where he got all that money, and it made me feel bad thinking about how he’d spent it all on me… but I did the same, so I suppose it’s fair. The best bit was, he gave me a tiny painted rock he’d apparently painted when he was sat with me in the art rooms at school. I didn’t even see him! Crazy! I think I want to start painting rocks now, I have so many I might as well.

But when things got serious is when our parents invited us to drink with them and play board games. Imagine me and Yeonjun on a team playing games against adults that were only tipsy. Ridiculous. We played Monopoly and I kept stealing Yeonjun’s money, he didn’t know though. He seemed clueless every time he picked up his money to pay ‘’where did I spend my money’’ he’d whine, a stupid pout on his lips. I’d then make up a story on how he’d spent it on his way around the board. He fell for it every time… nice!

2014, December, 26

OMG!!!! (Y/N) GOT ME THE DANCE SHOES I WANTED!!!! She must be rich to have afforded these! They are so comfortable and feel so nice when I dance. She knows me so well…. She is such a great listener. I only mentioned these once, I think…

We ended up drinking all together with our parents it was hilarious because she was so gone. I drank a little extra to keep up with her, but I couldn’t help but laugh every time I looked down at her pink-flushed face… she truly sucked at drinking. We were on the same team for charades, and she was awful at showing words, but great at guessing them. I couldn’t help but laugh at her terrible impression of a reindeer, she tried so hard. It was so cute. We played Monopoly all together and she kept stealing my money, she thought I didn’t know, but I did. She even watched me watch her take a piece and she still seemed convinced I didn’t know. I’d let her win today; it was too FUNNY not to.

2015, January, 19

Yeonjun kept sliding me notes. Now I have a collection of them… here.

Is the answer to question a x=6?

Yeonjun ;P

By the way, the answer was not 6. Yes, I did help him. I’m not a demon.

The boy in front of us has a sticker on his back!!!! HAHAHA

Yeonjun XD

I heard Yeonjun laugh to himself as he: one, realised our classmate had a sticker on his back, two wrote the note, three as he handed it to me, four as I read it, and five, looked at the boy's back. Yes, there was a sticker… was it funny, maybe a little. But he was distracting me.

Do you think I’m sexy?

YES OR YES no

Sexy man Yeonjun ;D

When I received it, I crossed out his options with a laugh and showed him my new options. He pouted at me and acted like a stroppy baby for the rest of the class, how annoying.

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

(Y/N) … Don’t ignore this! Write the next lyric. I know you know it!

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?

DON’T CHA!!!!!!!!!

Well done

That one I nearly didn’t write the lyric because I was trying to focus. But it became more distracting to not answer him than to answer him. I discovered Yeonjun gives up faster if I just respond to him. It was also a note I nearly got confiscated from my desk, had Yeonjun not snatched it up before our teacher could see it. I’m glad he did.

Can I come over today?

Yeonjun <3

You always come over…

Yes, but I was asking because I’m nice.

No, you are asking because you are bored, can you please just focus on the lesson.

Only because you asked <3

That one was prime craziness and I snatched it up when the sight of a heart met my eyes. How could he be joking so shamelessly?

2015, January, 20

IT’S THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE! I got moved away from (Y/N) in maths!!! The teacher said we talk too much… I’m sorry but have you ever seen her mouth move for a fun conversation… no! She’s only ever explained things to me!! What is this hate that’s being slung our way! I’m pissed! There goes any fun I’ve ever had in school! Now all that’s left is cute notes she gave me!! I’m in my feelings!! I’ll stick the memories of our fun times together down below.

Yeonjun breath quieter, it’s too loud :)

Annoyed (Y/N)

The answer is 3 not 6!!

Smart (Y/N)

Our teacher is wrong the answer is actually 23. I have no clue how he got 24…

Confused (Y/N)

Can we get snacks before we head home?

Hungry (Y/N)

Is my hair flat at the back? I feel a bump…

Curious (Y/N)

2015, January, 23

Yeonjun got moved back next to me, good because he was whining about it so much, I thought I’d have to cut off my own ears. When I walked in and saw him sat down, I was glad the whining would be over. I knew he’d be all right without me, he is smart, but he seemed to want to cling to me. He needs to grow some self-confidence.

2015, January, 23

THANK THE LORD THAT ME AND (Y/N) SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER AGAIN!!!! Apparently, it was only for that one lesson, so when I went into the classroom early begging to sit next to her because she helps me, I was just embarrassing myself. Ughhh, the things I do for her happiness. I just knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being apart from me. The look on her face, when she saw me sitting in my normal seat, said it all. She was obviously in love with me!!!

"God no mum! He wanted to stay near you because he likessss you’’ She slapped the words in the diary, now annoyed by her clueless mother as well as her father.

2015, February, 9

Me and Yeonjun keep talking about college and what we want to do in the future. We both seem as clueless as each other so we spend days in my room googling colleges, and the courses they have. Half the problem is… we don’t really want to go our separate ways. I may get annoyed by him, but Yeonjun has been my friend for 10 years, and for all of that we’ve gone to the same school. I really don’t want that to change, it scares me.

What happens if I can’t make friends? I won’t even have Yeonjun to rely on!! What if I hate it and Yeonjun isn’t around to annoy me because he’s swimming in his popularity in a new school!!! Live your life, but please Yeonjun, stay near me….

2015, February, 10

Looking at colleges is so draining!! Who knew making one choice would feel so pressuring? I know what course I want to do, and the clubs don’t matter to me because I do them outside of school. So why do I find myself looking for colleges that have not only music courses but art ones as well? And why do I find myself suggesting them to (Y/N)?

She seems so stressed out whenever we are looking, so clearly, I’m just trying to help her whilst also looking for myself. Yeah, that sounds right!!!!! Every time we scoot closer together to look at her laptop, the screen lit up with college, I notice it, the look in her eyes. She’s scared, and I don’t know what to say. Life is moving on and I don’t think she’s prepared. She’s been focusing so much on this year that I honestly don’t think she ever thought past it. and now, as she’s trying to revise for her final exams in a few months’ time, she has to make decisions. Ones she’s not ready to make.

In the moment I often think about reaching my hand out to hold hers, maybe she would find comfort in it. but I don’t… it would be weird to her. I know that much….

‘’This is by far the worst bit I’ve read yet! Dad just do it, make a move’’.

2015, February, 17

We picked a college, and both applied, we haven’t heard back yet, but they have no reason to not accept us. I heard it's easy getting into colleges… I’m not sure if I believe it or not, but I'll hope. When we put in our applications I almost cried because I got so nervous, but Yeonjun wrapped his arm over my shoulder and dragged me into his side, the warmth almost comforting. He’s never hugged me out of the blue like that, it shocked me.

I found myself wanting him to hold me longer. I think it’s because I’ve never been hugged by anyone other than my parents, or his parents. My friends don’t hug me because they assume I don’t like to be touched. Am I to serious? I wonder what Yeonjun thinks… maybe he thinks I’m too serious and it took him this long to work up the courage to hug me. Maybe I should think about how I present myself to people.

2015, February, 17

We put in our college applications today, together. We applied for the same college as I wanted us to. She was worried because we had finally done it, made a decision. She expected to hear back instantly, I don’t know why, and when she didn’t, she got so nervous I thought she’d throw up. So, my arm moved before I could think. I hugged her!!! She didn’t run away or tell me I was gross… she calmed down slightly. Maybe she didn’t find it weird at all. I was really worried she would, that’s why I never comforted her physically. I suppose I was the one that was scared after all.

I really hope we get into the same college; I don’t really know what it would be like without her. No matter where I go, she’s always been there… not really, I could list places she hasn’t been that I have… shut up Yeonjun….

I just want her by my side for a while longer. Is that a crime? If it’s not, why do I feel like it is?

2015, April, 14

We have spent so much time revising, I feel like I have no time for anything else. I don’t know how Yeonjun does it… he does clubs, school, revision and hangs out with his friends. I’m sure he’s awake 24/7, that would make sense. But he never looks tired. He always looks so awake, like every day is day he will love, even though he’s been living this life for months.

I have his timetable because I’m the one that organises his life… this isn’t a friend’s package… I’m doing too much. But someone has to, he has no one else that will... all this happened because I offered my help a few years ago, oh the butterfly effect, you’ve got me now.

2015, April, 19

ALL I DO IS REVISE!!! It’s so astronomically boring. Yeah, that was a big word, (Y/N) says it’s the word of the day. She says I should try using them, so boom!! Too bad she’ll never see the proof… I’ll have to use the word in her face later when I go to her house. Maybe I should say ‘’You are astronomically smart, I’m grateful for you’’…. EW, too mushy for me. I'd only say that to a girl I liked, and I DON’T like (Y/N)!!!

2015, May, 9

I had my first exam today… I’m so nervous. I think it went well, but I heard that means I did badly. I really hope I didn’t do badly. I haven’t tried my whole life to fail now. Come on (Y/N), only a little longer left. Time to get back to revising for my next test, its tomorrow, I’m wasting time.

2015, May, 9

Sat my maths exam today. It went well, I’m very happy. I sit my English one tomorrow, I’m not confident. (Y/N) is on Facetime right now trying to drill quotes into our head, I’m trying to listen, but I just can’t focus. That’s why I’m writing my mind on this page so hopefully I can listen to her again.

Why is it that every time I look at her on the screen stressing about the exam that I want to hug her, tell her it will be okay. At first, I thought I was just an amazing friend, and I wanted to help her. But the thought won’t leave me alone. I’m so close to marching over to her house and holding her until she tells me she feels okay.

I should listen to her again now, or she will get mad. That would only make things worse…. Good luck me!

2015, May, 23

I had my art exam today and I painted Yeonjun. I spent the whole day in a room painting his portrait… when I asked him to be my reference for art, he was okay with that, I think that’s because he’s confident in himself, I’m not. I’m jealous of him and his stupid face, which I can now say for sure, is very even. I spent the whole day painting it!!! I would know!!! I'd never focused much on his face when I was painting before, I could just kind of paint it, like it was the easiest thing. But today I was so careful that I was measuring. I couldn’t afford a mistake on this exam; I needed the perfect grade… I hope Yeonjun never sees that painting because honestly, I think I painted him too well. His ego may shoot, and I wouldn’t be able to stand that.

2015, May, 23

(Y/N) spent the entire day painting me, and when I waited for her by the classroom, I could see her through the glass. She looked like she was being careful, each stroke was controlled. I couldn’t see the canvas because it had its back to me, but I could see her. She had paint smudged on her nose and cheeks, clearly shed brushed it onto herself by accident. Why did my heart flutter at the sight of her? That wasn’t meant to happen…

A teacher saw me waiting and spoke to me ‘’Ah, Mr Choi? The one (Y/N) is always painting?’’. Did she speak about me to her teachers? He seemed to know about me… it was odd. I responded to him regardless ‘’Yes sir, that’s me. How do you know?’’. The teacher laughed at me and patted my back ‘’Word gets around… she paints you, and what do you photograph in your photography work?’’. He was teasing me!!!! How dare he!!! He already knew the answer… I photograph her. She just makes the perfect subject; she doesn’t need to pose. I can take a picture of her when she’s being moody and ignoring me and it comes out perfectly. Does she know I do this? No. if she found out would she hate me? Yes. She doesn’t like the way she looks… how sad… I think she looks perfect incredible… FINE. She looks absolutely normal, not bad…

2015, June, 20

I finally finished school, I'm not sure how I feel. I got accepted to the college me and Yeonjun wanted, and he did as well. We have the whole summer to do what? I have nothing to keep me busy now, maybe other than Yeonjun and work. I thought I’d be more excited to have an early summer. But instead, I realised I’m boring. What do I do with my days? All I do is wait for Yeonjun to finish living his life and then come around my house. When college starts, I need to make some friends, that aren’t Yeonjun!!!

2015, June, 23

THANK YOU, LORD!! TORTURE IS FINALLY OVER!! All exams are done, I got into the college I wanted, my friends still want to hang out with me!!! I’ve spent my days practically living at dance club, or my friends’ houses. Me and Soobin are curious how long I can live at his house without my mum telling me to come home. So far, we are at 3 days. In these days I haven’t seen (Y/N) and the only messages she sends me are ‘’Why didn’t you come over today?’’, ‘’You didn’t come over again today’’, ‘’Are you dead. You come to my house every day. This is the third day’’. Surely, she has things she can be doing, why is she so worried about me. It’s probably best I keep my distance, for my own good. She won’t mind, in fact, she’ll probably like it…

2015, June, 30

He still hasn’t come over… what is his problem??? I stopped messaging a few days ago. He never tells me where he is or what he’s doing, he just sends me a message saying ‘’not today, watch a movie or something’’. I don’t like watching movies alone… I thought he knew that. Why is he being mean?? I thought we got past that years ago… is it because of college? Is he scared? Well so am I!! I wanted him by my side… I guess not. Maybe I had the wrong idea about us…

2015, July, 3

I finally returned home because my mum told me to. She knew I was at Soobin’s because I told her, and she didn’t seem to care as long as I was safe. The only reason she told me to come home was because of (Y/N)… apparently she got so bored she came to my house to ask my mum to bake a cake with her. They did, and apparently, they had a nice time. But why in the world would she do that. Didn’t she have better things to do?

Mum told me I need to ‘be there’ for (Y/N), but I don’t get it. She seems fine so what’s the problem? I’ll go over and see her tomorrow.

2015, July, 4

Poop-Jun came over today. Stupid boy. Why did he think I’d want to hang out after he hasn’t seen me or messaged me in weeks. Did he decide I was too good for him? Am I too uncool and ugly for popular people like Yeonjun. he makes me want to slap him for being so foolish.

2015, July, 4

That didn’t go as planned. (Y/N) shouted at me and kicked her out of her house. She seems to think I don’t like her anymore; I suppose that’s what I get for trying to push us away from each other. I knew what I was doing, it was selfish. All because I can’t handle her… she doesn’t deserve this. I’m sorry (Y/N), I’ll make it up to you.

2015, July, 18

Yeonjun wouldn’t leave me alone, so we are friends again. He would just appear every day and try and get me to hang out with him. Hed refuse to leave unless we did something. At first, he’d settle for a conversation, then he wanted to hang out for an hour minimum, then he’d want to watch a movie, then go shopping, next thing I knew I’d fallen into his trap. I forgave him. I feel like I wasted my summer being lonely and mad at Yeonjun, is this seriously what my life has boiled down to?

2015, July, 20

We are finally friends again, she told me to come over tonight. I DIDN’T HAVE TO JUST ARRIVE, SHE TOLD ME TO COME OVER. She has never in her life done that. Breaking news if you ask me.

I think her parents invited me around for dinner really, but oh well, I’ll take what I can get.

I hope I can spend the rest of the summer making her happy, she’s started laughing with and at me again recently, I’ve never been happier to hear a sound in my life.

2015, August, 28

Me and Yeonjun have officially enrolled in college, we’ve gone to all the events and met people at induction. Someone even approached me to have a conversation, that was nice. At first, I thought she wanted to speak to Yeonjun, that’s what normally happens, but she didn’t. she told me I had a nice outfit and asked me what I’d be studying. We spoke for a while. Turned out she was a fashion and design student. She asked for my number and jokingly saved it as ‘my future model’. It was really flattering for a pretty girl to say I was model worthy, especially when I’ve never heard a compliment like that from anyone other than my parents.

I’m starting to think college won’t be so bad after all, I think I’m excited now.

2015, August, 28

I don’t want to be that friend… but that girl was hardcore flirting with (Y/N) …. IN FRONT OF ME!!!! How absurd!!!

‘’your outfit is so stylish and looks so pretty, just like you. Wow you should be a model’’!

HAHA

I already knew all these things! (Y/N) is my model… please find your own. I wanted to pull (Y/N) away from her so badly. Why couldn’t I be happy that she was making friends? I want to be, but I can’t. I don’t want to go to college anymore. The world is going to discover (Y/N), and she seems ready this time… she won’t just sit in the library…. Fuck.

Her mum’s diary cuts off there and turns into letters she wrote to herself and Yeonjun, but she never sent them to him, meanwhile his stays as a diary. It’s a good thing her mum dated each one or the story would have to end here.

2015, September, 1

Dear me,

Today was the first day of college. My stomach is knotted with anxiety. I’ll make friends won’t i? I became friends with Layla over the holiday. She’s so interesting, fun and so cool, she reminds me of Yeonjun. She’s such an it girl! Yeonjun says my outfits are cooler since I started hanging out with her. If they are better, why does he seem frustrated? Odd boy.

Class was excellent, I spent the lesson talking about art with people who love art. I found out artistic people are weird, just like me! Yeonjun seemed disgusted by the idea of a room full of Me, rude!

Yeonjun already has a following. I didn’t recognise any people from secondary. He’s already part of a big group. He ask if I’d like to sit with them, but I said I’d rather sit with Layla. He seemed disappointed, but oh well. I’m not like him, I don’t thrive in big groups, i feel most comfortable with a few close friends.

Layla always wants to talk about Yeonjun? Does she have a crush on him?! That would be kinda gross! Why would girls be attracted to him? He’s… Poop-Jun after all.

I have a few questions for myself next month…

Is Yeonjun popular yet?

Does Layla have a crush on Yeonjun?

Have you made more friends?

Do you like your art course?

Did you and Layla go shopping like you planned?

Do you hate it here?

Are… you and Yeonjun still friends?

2015, September, 1

First day of school was easy peasy. I loved having to do nothing but what I love doing. The only thing I don’t love is Layla, she’s been hogging (Y/N), and she knows it. Me and her have beef, seriously. She has been hanging out with (Y/N) ever since they met, and when they aren’t hanging out, they are messaging. (Y/N) says Layla reminds her of me… personally I've never wanted to throw up more. She has nowhere near as much style as I do, and she clings to (Y/N) unreasonably. I have my reasons!!! She’s been my best friend since we were 6, be for real!!!! Me and her AREN’T the same!!

2015, October, 1

Dear future me,

I’ve officially been in college for one month. Let me answer the questions of the previous letter…

Of course, Yeonjun is popular now! Everyone who knows him, loves him. I’ve decided to avoid him in the halls, so I don’t have to deal with the mess that is people saying hi to him or crowding him.

Does Layla have a crush on Yeonjun? It appears not. Since I stopped hanging out with him at school she’s stopped discussing him. That’s good, I don’t want her to like Yeonjun. I refuse to have my friends dating!!!

Yes! I have made friends! Layla and I are in a group of roughly 8, which seemed large in the beginning, but it’s not. Some are friends she brought to the group, and others are friends I made. We are all really creative and it's exciting! We inspire each other to be more imaginative!!

I love my art course; all I do is talk, learn about, and create art! It’s my dream course. It is intricate and sometimes difficult work, but I’m willing to invest into it because I love it.

Layla and I recently went shopping with the rest of our friends. We got the train to the nearest city, with new shops, it was so thrilling. I’ve never done something like that before, it was exciting, trying new styles, chatting! Yeonjun saw the pictures all over my social media. He was jealous we didn’t do things like that. But he hasn’t ever ask…

Nope, I don’t hate it at college. And why would I?! I can leave the college on my breaks, can GO TO THE TOILET WHEN I WANT, I feel like the master of my destiny!

Yes, Yeonjun does speak to me. He will run past me in the corridors sometimes and shout a greeting, but then he’s gone like lightning. We will sometimes sit together if we are both on break and I’m not with my friends. He loves looking at my artwork, especially since I often draw and paint him. It’s definitely strokes that ego…

2015, October, 28

There is a party for Halloween, and I didn’t even have to convince (Y/N) to go, because guess what, Layla and her are going!! They will even be matching!! I saw her outfit, she’s an angel, and Layla will be a devil. How basic… (Y/N) pulled it off though. She looked incredible; I can’t even lie this time. When she showed me, I thought she was beautiful, and I just couldn’t believe that she’s the girl that collected rocks…

Wait… if I thought she was beautiful and I’m her best friend, what will other guys think? No! No, this can’t happen. I can’t have them looking at her, I have to come up with a plan. Hopefully she’ll get drunk and return to my side, she does that when she’s drunk.

2015, November, 1

Dear future me,

Never drink that much again. I think I spilt my drink on this random girl, and I remember her crying? Yeonjun said he helped her out though… What does that even mean?! Wait… did he lose his jacket last night? He gave her his jacket, didn’t he!! That was a cool jacket, how dare he waste it on fixing my mistakes!

I don’t remember how I found Yeonjun, I was with Layla at first. But it reached a point where I just couldn’t keep up and I needed to find familiarity. I think I saw him standing near the fish tank, talking to four guys. I’m not sure how many, it’s blurry in my memory. Omg, memories keep bobbing up like apples. I remember falling against one of his friends and Yeonjun clutching me towards him. He said something to his friends and held me against his chest as he finished his conversation, his heart beat was comforting. I remember mumbling sorry for interrupting.

after he sobered me up a little, he took me home. I remember he helped me to my bed and tucked me in. He whispered ‘’good night’’ before he left… how embarrassing!

2015, November, 1

Why is it always the Halloween parties? God, she looked so perfect… I thought I couldn’t breathe when I saw her dancing with her friends in the corner of my eye. My friends didn’t even wait to make fun of me, they knew what was up. ‘’Yeonjun, she won’t disappear. You can look away from her’’. I knew that I could, but I didn’t want to. If I did would someone take her from me? I did though, I looked away and left her. I even moved room so I could have my own fun.

She took me by surprise when she came over to me, tripping over her feet and falling against my friend, who caught her in his arms and smiled down at her. Oh, hell no, not those two. Anyone but him (Y/N), please…

I grabbed her from his arms and held her against my chest, my hand rested on her lower back and her head pushed against me. There was no way we didn’t look like a clingy couple like this… but it was fine, just for tonight.

‘’You didn’t need to snatch her from me mate. I know she’s yours’’. That’s what he said, and I scoffed at him and asked what he meant. He told me ‘’We all know you like her, so we won’t touch her… everyone knows’’. He was being ridiculous, ‘’I don’t like her’’ I told him. And he said the worst thing I could’ve imagined ‘’Well, in that case, I’ll ask her out on a date. She’s too pretty to pass up’’. I laughed at his joke because it must have been one right. No way he’d say that to me, her best friend, seriously right…

When I got her home, she was clinging to me, and once I peeled her off and got her in bed. She asked me to stay and hold her. I thought about it, but I knew what the right decision was. I didn’t respond to her, I tucked her covers over her and told her goodnight. Why is it always Halloween?

2015, December, 1

Dear me,

Yeonjun has been annoying recently. He keeps running past me at college and ruffling my hair or scaring me. It's so annoying, especially when he messes up my hair because it’s always when I made an extra effort. Can’t he just keep his hands to himself? How annoying! Sorry, I’ve said annoying one too many times, clearly thinking about it makes me so frustrated I repeat myself!

And do you know what’s worse, when I shout at him after he’s finished, and in response guess what he does… he spins as he runs and winks, then he continues running out of view. That man! How dare he be so careless… I hope he runs into a wall one day!!

Art classes aren’t as much fun now, it’s already starting to feel like a chore, so I need to find something interesting to do for my project this year or I’ll get bored. Please future me, please… save me from tedium…

2015, December, 11

(Y/N) is only getting prettier and making my heart flutter endlessly. She walks down the corridors with the prettiest smile, books under her arm because they are too big for her bag, and the most beautifully curled hair. What other choice do I have? I run past her a ruffle it up so it’s not as good every time. She doesn’t need to look pretty for anyone else now, I've already seen her. Did I like her? No, of course not! I just care about her! I just don’t want other guys to like, her, doesn’t that make sense? I’m just trying to protect her…

2016, January, 1

Dear future me,

I’ve saved art for us… are you thankful? Well maybe Yeonjun did, but that isn’t important… You know how he always gives me a rock at Christmas time, a small painted rock, as testament to our childhood. Well, I’ve decided to finally start painting rocks. When I told my lecturer, she suggested I make a project out of it. I’m enjoying it immensely, and I have developed a whole plan. I have a question… did you tell Yeonjun? And did he act big-headed about assissting you with the concept? I bet he did…

Yeonjun wrote me a letter this Christmas, so I’ll put it with this one. It was simply beautiful, so emotion, it made me cry. I didn’t want him to see me teary eyed. He mentioned the magnet thing his mum would say when we were younger. I agree with him, we are magnets opposite poles attracting, and I think we are so powerful we can’t be separated.

He brought me an art easel and some canvases for at home, I was grateful. I didn’t write him a letter for Christmas, so I’m going to write him one soon and give it to him. I don’t want him to think I’m a bad friend. I think I’ll probably paint my parents, beautiful flowers, and a nearby lake that Yeonjun keeps dragging me to. I’ve drawn enough of Yeonjun that I could honestly go my whole life without ever painting him again.

Dear (Y/N),

First of all, Merry Christmas! I’m glad it’s another one together we get to add to the stack of them. How many has it been now? 11? That’s a lot… I’ve known you for more than half my life, isn’t that crazy? I hope that never changes. Can you stay by my side until we are old and wrinkly? I don’t think I want to ever stop being your friend. I don’t think I could at this point.

Recently I’ve seen you change so much, and all because we went to college. I heard people bloom at some point in their life, and I think I got to see you bloom. Do you know how incredible it was? I was scared at first, I didn't want you to get hurt and scarred by the world. I know you’ve always hidden yourself, and I was happy to protect you. But you didn’t want me to this year, did you? So, I let you bloom and now I look at you and I no longer see the girl who collected rocks as a child… I think it makes me sad in a way. I now see the girl who parties and paints, isn’t that a weird duo?

Just like us, no? When I was a child, my mum called us magnets, that were pushed the wrong way together. But now a days I think we are pushed the right way together; I think we click. Did you know it’s difficult to separate magnets, especially strong ones.

Merry Christmas (Y/N), I hope you have a lovely day!

2016, January, 15

Music classes are awesome, I made my own song recently. The lecturer says I’m above the expected level for my age, and that my song is full of emotion. Well duh, it's about her… Yeah, I did that. I can’t think of anything else but her, it’s so stupid. When she’s sat alone, I ditch my friends to sit with her, she probably wanted me to. That's what I tell myself, but who am I kidding? I desperately wanted to talk to her. Please save me, I can’t do this anymore.

2016, February, 1

Dear me,

I told Yeonjun about my idea when he saw it. I stayed in class later than I had to, so I could focus on my project, when he came to find me. He sat down next to me, chin in his hand, and asked why I was painting rocks. He shuffled through the notes and sketches I had on the desk. It didn’t take him long to realise, so I explained my plan.

My project is to bring colour back to my otherwise dull world. Nature is intrinsically beautiful, and I love capturing it any way I can. By decorating the rocks and placing them back where they belong, I add a bit of my beauty to the world. The plan is to distribute the rocks to my favourite places once I’m done with the project. I'll then paint some of the rocks in their location, for the final piece.

To answer my own questions. No Yeonjun didn’t get a big head like you thought he would, he seemed really joyful. In fact, he took me for ice cream when he found out… how odd. But I had fun.

2016, February, 14

I want to throw up. It’s Valentine’s Day, and MY FRIEND gave (Y/N) roses. I saw him do it. She was sitting there, pretty pink dress on because she wanted to wear a romantic colour today, hair in space buns like a cutie, and he walked up to her with the flowers behind his back. It’s like everything went in slow motion and I was given the chance to stop it, but I didn’t. He spoke to her, and she smiled, then he gave her the flowers, she turned the same colour as them. He gave her a note and she smiled again, and he walked away. I didn’t take my eyes off her as she put the letter straight into her bag, not even reading it first.

When she looked up and saw me, she giggled and waved the flowers like an accomplishment. I would’ve been happy if I didn’t like her… that’s right, I have a crush on her. Now I know why they call it a crush. It’s not for a good reason, it’s because it crushes you. I thought it was because you have a crush, and when you finally get the girl, you crush the silly feelings, and it turns into love. I was wrong.

If I ever see those flowers in a vase in her room, I think I’ll throw up… there goes the plan I made for her… I'll slip it here, so I never have to look at it again.

VALENTINES DAY <3 OPERATION CRUSH

1. Buy flowers – her favourites, tulips, not roses, that’s basic - done

2. Get her favourite snacks - done!

3. Download her favourite movies onto my laptop – done!

4. Build the den – done!

5. Decorate den – done!

6. Pack your bag full of the bits you’ll need – done!

7. Get her to come with you – to be done!

8. Success – no

9. Is she your girlfriend? – never

2016, March, 1

Dear me,

Yeonjun has been clinging to me like never before. He sits with me all the time, at school, at home and when we go out. I think we are conjoined at the hip. It’s kind of funny, in a babyish way.

He’s been weird with me ever since his friend asked me out, I told him no, but we became friends. It’s weird how that works… I did try and give him a chance, but I didn’t like him that way. I didn’t even feel anything, it felt dull. I felt bad, but I told him no, not that I told Yeonjun. It isn’t his business, if I’m honest. If Layla wanted to date him, the bile would rise from my stomach. Two of my friends dating, that is just a no. Maybe I should let him know so he relaxes. Maybe then he’ll leave my side… but it’s fun having him around.

2016, March, 17

Is it possible to love being around the one that broke your heart?

Am I really in love with her?

How to tell her I love her?

That’s what my search history looks like nowadays because nobody prepares you to feel this, or how to even deal with it. growing up I couldn’t imagine loving (Y/N), it was the wildest, most far-fetched thing ever. But as I read my diaries from those days and think about how I treated and thought about her, it’s obvious, I’ve had a crush on her forever. The only reason I didn’t notice was because I thought it was the normal feeling of liking a close friend. Why did it take me so long to notice? So long that now other guys like her as well. I don’t even have a chance anymore… who would’ve thought… certainly not me… I love the one girl who has never liked me…. How sad.

2016, April, 1

My project is nearly done. As I was resting today, Yeonjun flew into my room, not even knocking, as usual. Whenever he needed someone to check his music or dance, he’d come rushing over to my house, straight into my room. ‘’Listen to it!’’ he said sitting down on my bed, to which I said the only words that I could think ‘��Knock’’, and he nodded, both of us knowing he would most definitely not knock.

I listened to it, it was delicate, so emotive, and knowing Yeonjun’s created it, was even better. It was better than that! It was perfect, stupid talented boy. As I looked at my phone, I realised I had to go, it was nearly time for the call. ‘’Yeah, it's amazing Jjunie, can you go now? I’m busy’’.

He huffed at me, as if not believing I could be busy ‘’doing fucking what, you were in bed on your phone!’’. When I told him I was going to call a friend he whined about it being our thing, so I told him it wasn’t ‘’You practically living in my house is our thing’, Now get out he’s waiting for me’’.

The mere idea of a male wanting to speak to me clearly disgusted him because he burst ‘’HE??? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ONLY FRIENDS WITH GIRLS’’. I decided then that I shouldn’t tell him it was his friend I was about to call. ‘’ I have both Yeonjun, now get out before I hit you’’. He pouted at me like a baby, ‘’Fine, I get that I’m being replaced, I’ll go’’.

I watched him leave my room, then I watched him enter his own house and his bedroom light turn on from my window. I then called his friend, and we called for a few hours. It was 11 pm when I looked back out my window and Yeonjun’s lights were off. Yeonjun’s light is always on till at least 1 a.m. What was he doing?

I didn’t do anything to upset him, did I? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

2016, April, 1

I’m being replaced. I didn’t know a crush could turn into something worse, is there even a verb that can describe this feeling? Maybe instead of a crush, I have a pulverize… that seems right. My heart feels pulverized. Do you want to know why?

Well because (Y/N) kicked me out of her house to call a guy. I have never been kicked out of her house because of someone else like that. Not even Layla. If they called, I'd just sit in the room. why in the world would she kick me out for a different guy?

I feel sick… is that the remnants of my heart trying to escape my body? Should I swallow it or let it out? Is there any point in keeping the slivers of it? When I looked out my window I could see her, she left her curtains wide open again, and I could see as her serious face lifted into a bright smile. She was laughing at his jokes… and all I could do was watch. Do I do this to myself?

I can’t watch anymore… I can’t feel like this again. I’ll go to the only friend I can think of…

2016, May, 1

Dear future me,

Is Yeonjun still ignoring us? He hasn’t spoken to me in school, he hasn’t come to my house… what is happening? Why is he ignoring me? I hope he has a good reason because I don’t like how this feels.

Everything is endlessly dull without him. Where is the colour I love? He made everything so much brighter, more exciting…. Did I just say that I loved the colour, and then suggest that Yeonjun was in fact the colour to my world…. Yes, I did.

Am I in love with Yeonjun?

Holy fuck, I think I love Yeonjun. is this the feeling inside of me? The warmth and light when I’m close to him and the cold dusk when I’m apart from him. Oh god, I really love him… don’t I? Fuck… how did this happen? When did this happen? This year? I’m not sure…

What am I going to do?

2016, April, 16

Is it better if I keep ignoring her? She seems ridiculously sad nowadays. She doesn’t stay in school any longer than she has to. Can I reach out and hug her? Or will she push me away. She probably will, she has other friends now.

I must be a speck of dust in the vast landscape that is her world. I float by, annoying her for a while then I get forced to move along by this force, its wind to a dust, but to me, I’m not sure. What pushed me away from her? Is it possible that by turning my back to her I pushed the same poles of our magnet together? Is it possible that I am the force that’s keeping me from her? If she turns her back as well, does that mean we click again? Maybe I should spin around and confess how I feel. But after all…. I’m just dust.

2016, May, 1

I have a plan. I’m going to get Yeonjun back and make him mine all at the same time. I can’t survive much longer away from him. This feeling is devouring me.

The next stage of my project will arrive in a few days, that’s when I put the rocks in my favourite places. There is a heart rock I found as a child, I named him Yeonjun, and I’ve painted it! Its finally time to return it to my favourite place. I’ll write a letter for him and put the rock at the bottom, buried under colourful paper.

If this doesn’t tell him how I feel I’m not really sure what will. This was the perfect idea, and it linked up so magnificently.

2016, May, 21

I’m so in love with her. You’ll never guess what she did… it was incredible. Like a scene from a movie, or a storybook. She’s so perfect.

After a long day at college, doing my final performance for my exam I came home, just to find her sitting on my bed. I hadn’t spoken to her or been to her house in months. I was so scared to talk to her that I instantly spewed out the first thing she always tells me ‘’What happened to knocking?’’. She shrugged her shoulders with a giggle ‘’I will next time’’. I knew it was a tease at me for never knocking and never learning how. ‘’touché… what brings you to my house, you prefer your house’’.

She deadpanned me at my words and spoke ‘’You don’t come over anymore’’.

‘’You don’t invite me’’, that’s what I said! Could I really not think of a better excuse!!! ‘’I’ve never had to before’’ she countered, and to that I only made up mor lies to hide my feelings ‘’I finally clicked that you didn’t want me around’’.

She huffed at me’’ why would you even think that?’’. I shrugged at her and sat down next to her, trying to peak at what was behind her back, but I couldn’t even see because it was in a box, cutely wrapped like the Christmas gifts she gives me. She stood up and spoke ‘’I’m going to leave this here. You decide if you should start coming back over to my house once you’ve seen it’’. I grabbed her hand as she tried to leave ‘’Don’t be suspicious, just tell me’’. She giggled and squeezed my hand then let go ‘’nope, it’s something you should do alone’’.

The second she was out of my door, I reached for the box and when I opened it, I saw a letter, so I read it, I’ll put it with this one, so I never lose it. once I had read it, I put my hand into the tissue and pulled out a beautifully painted rock. Fuck… she’s incredible. It wasn’t any old rock; it was the one I’d found for her when we were children and I’d sneakily given it to her. I saw her painting it a few months ago for her project, and I knew she was planning on returning them to her favourite places…. I just never knew that would be me. I thought I wanted to cry right then and there.

I knew I had to chase after her, but was straight away to soon? It might have seemed a bit desperate, but I was. My pulverise needed to leave me alone that instant and turn into never ending love for her. Like I originally thought a crush was….

I ran to her house and the second I got into her room, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her as tightly as I could now that I knew she loved me back. I told her how I felt in a single whisper ‘’ I love you too’’ and that’s when she said it back ‘’I love you Poop-Jun’’. Any other situation I’d hate the stupid name, but this time it was almost adorable, it was perfect. She knew it as well.

I asked her the question ‘’will you be my girlfriend’’… and that’s why I know have a girlfriend. Isn’t that’s awesome. The perfect girl you’ve had a crush on forever, is finally your girlfriend. Future me, please keep her happy, and stay together till you are old and wrinkly.

Dearest Yeonjun,

I’ve met many people in my life; good people and bad. No one has ever captured my heart so completely. When I look at you, you appear to glow with a glittering aura. Everything else fades into a grey background without you, as if you have stolen the colour from my world and taken it with you. I need you by my side, Yeonjun.

Those times you would run past me at college, would make heart flutters, and butterflies swirl with delight. And rage with violent anger! You make me feel so many things, but even that’s better than dull and emotionless.

I know all kinds of things about you. All different things. Like the lake you visit when you're feeling lost. You’d found it on a walk one day, and showed it to me the next. Remember? I had never expected you to come across something so captivating, but of course you had. You always make my soul shimmer.

When my eyes laid sight on the golden sun, glistening on the blue hue of the lake, I felt the familiar surge of inspiration, like a guitar melody in one of your songs. When I turned to you, you were transfixed on the lake, so peaceful, enjoying the moment. Did you realise I stole that moment, imortalising you on my page as you drifted, weightlessly into your own reality. That mere drawing is the most honest representation of you. I’ve never told you, but you are the reason I fell in love with art in the first place, I wanted a way to treasure you. Yeonjun, you are a work of art to me.

I like being with you. I try to sit next to you as much as I can. I find myself staring at you all the time. I want to always be with you. And I can’t help myself.

These special moments just between us. You are my light, shining in my world, you ease the sadness. As overwhelming as the loneliness but as soft as cherry blossom, this feeling is as strange as it is new! I guess you can only call it love.

I find myself counting the days we’ve been apart. Longing, with one wish, only to see you again. I want you, I wonder, hopeful, if you feel the same. Thoughts of you fill me, I need you beside me, always.

When I feel the loneliness will consume me, I think about the moments we’ve shared, the Christmas joy, my rocks, and your music. Years ago a beautiful heart-shaped rock greeted me at the gates of my house, and when I gazed up I saw you staring back at me. From that moment I decided I’d call the rock Yeonjun, just like Small Sam had a name. I’ve wondered all these years, if you hid the heart rock for me to find. To me, it became a symbol of our friendship, our changing relationship, our blossoming love.

For my project you know I was painting rocks to return them to my favourite places, and this one is for you, Yeonjun. Because you, and everything you mean to me, is my favourite place. Isn’t it fitting that the rock I found that day, is the rock I return to you? Please accept it, along with my heart.

I love you

“Awwwww… mum fell harder!!! That’s so sweet. He was ready to give up on her but she made the move that he couldn’t! I can’t wait to tease them about this!” Their daughter giggled, packing the pages back away where they belong. Their youth… oh how magical it was.

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 1 year ago

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to ashes, in memoriam

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Summary: the third anniversary of the snap thaws some of the tension between the two of you.

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,570

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years

Springtime in London might have been lovely, had it not been for the blanket of solemnity hanging over every square mile of the city. The third anniversary of the Decimation had been looming over you, over everyone, for weeks now. And now that it had arrived… you had spent much of the day locked away in your room, hoping to simply sleep through it.

Clint had stayed, and the two of you had returned to old routines, making your way west until you’d finally found yourselves on the outskirts of London. If possible, the two of you communicated even less than before, and you found yourself avoiding him just to make it easier to ignore the tension between you. The longer it went on, the more frustrated with your situation you became. Much of your time seemed now to be spent expelling the energy building inside you.

So, when Clint knocked on the door to the room you had claimed when you’d found yourselves an apartment on the outskirts of the city in a building too rundown for the city to relocate locals into, you were surprised. You sat up in the bed, pushing hair out of your eyes.

“Come in?”

“Hey,” he said gruffly, averting his eyes as if you were in some way indecent. It was almost normal to you now; you swore the only time you ever really felt his eyes on you was when yours were turned away. “Did I wake you?”

You shook your head; you’d been laying there for the last two hours, staring out the window at nothing but the sliver of sky you could see between the curtains. But that didn’t feel like something worth mentioning. “What’s up?”

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

You frowned, pushing the blankets off of your legs. “You’ve got a target?”

“It’s not work,” he replied, his tone unchanging. “Civilian clothes.”

“…Okay.” you said, confusion furrowing your brow. “Okay, just, uh… Just give me five minutes.”

***

Hyde Park was crowded, throngs of people choking the pathways that led to the lake. Lingering in any one place with this many people made you feel exposed in a way that you’d come to loathe over the last three years, and you tugged the baseball cap you wore a little lower on your brow.

“What are we doing here?” you asked quietly.

Clint shrugged a shoulder as though his leading you out that evening had been no more than a whim. But despite his reluctance to talk, to even spend time with you outside of a hunt, this was where he’d brought you. “It’s a memorial.”

Daylight was beginning to ebb as you approached Serpentine Lake, and the lights that marked the edges of the path the two of you were following were starting to glow against the soft light of dusk. The crowds around you collected in smaller parties, and the atmosphere that hung like a mist around the park kept their tones hushed. Reverent. The result was an almost hypnotic hum, and you found yourself stepping closer to Clint’s side at the noise.

He didn’t move away.

You didn’t understand quite what he meant until you finally reached the Lake proper. And your breath hitched.

Countless lights bobbed along the surface of the lake, slowly moving in and out of view between the bodies lining the shore. Each light was carried by a delicate paper lantern, the underside waxed against the water. As you drew closer, you could just make out the lines marking the sides of the lanterns still in the hands of the people ahead of you; the names of those they had lost.

“Clint…”

He didn’t say anything; and you didn’t know how you were supposed to finish that sentence. Booths had been set up about thirty feet back from the shoreline, and you followed Clint wordlessly towards one of them. The table was carefully piled with paper lanterns and tealights, and after collecting two of each from a kind-faced woman, he led you to an unoccupied patch on the shore.

The sound of water shifting joined the soundscape around you, the scent of it at the edge of your mind. Clint knelt down on the grass, handing you one of the lanterns and a marker. You paused after taking them, running your fingertips over the dense paper before you joined him.

You wrote their names slowly, carefully, turning the lantern so the letters formed a morbid crown around its head.

Wanda… Sam… Bucky… Vision… Hill… Fury… Peter… T’Challa… Shuri…

You hesitated for a long moment before following their names with two more words.

I’m sorry.

***

The crowds grew so slowly and steadily around you that you barely noticed it before you stood and found yourself surrounded by bodies. Clint’s arm brushed against yours as he straightened too, the two of you holding your lanterns carefully before you. Your fingers tightened briefly on yours as though it would be ripped from your hands; wax slid under your nails.

Your eyes dropped to the near-identical lantern in Clint’s hands. His thumb stroked over the rigid paper almost idly, and you turned away again before your eyes could focus on the words that he had written on the side of it. Instead, you shouldered your way through the people crowding the shoreline until the toes of your boots were kissed by the soft ebb and flow of the water.

Once again you felt Clint’s presence by your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean back into the warmth of him. Instead, you turned to face him, swallowing as you took his lantern gingerly. You held them steady, your eyes meeting his in brief, flickering moments as he lit the candles within.

And the two of you set the lanterns down on the water, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as they ever so slowly bobbed out to join the others to reflect golden light on the mirror’s surface.

***

It wasn’t long, despite your best effort, before you lost sight of which lanterns were yours, eyes blurring with the pinpricks of light in front of you. Clint still stood by your side, and the more time stretched out before you the more the sounds of murmured conversation and the acoustic guitar someone played nearby fell away. It all fell away until all that anchored you to reality, to that spot you stood on, was the soft sound of Clint’s steady, calming breath.

The crowd moved around you in the same kind of slow ebb and flow as the water; the two of you standing sentinel on the edge of the lake. The sky darkened above you, and the lights on the lake warmed as the water turned to ink. Someone was speaking over a microphone, a grave voice intoning a eulogy to everyone that had been lost.

What you noticed of the speaker’s words soon turned to messages of hope and ‘togetherness in the face of adversity’, and Clint’s own voice broke you out of your revery.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand touching the middle of your back. “Come with me.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as he led you away from the bulk of the crowd. You found yourself needing to fill the silence that hung between you, and you spoke quietly. “How did you hear about all this?”

“There was something on the news,” he replied, an almost forced casualness to his tone. “I thought… I thought this might be good for you.”

You raised a brow in touched disbelief at his concern, a small, snide smile blooming at the corner of your lips. “Just me, huh?”

You saw his own smirk flash over his features beneath his hood despite himself, but he didn’t reply.

“Thank you, Clint.”

He nodded; his eyes still turned ahead of you. A part of you wondered what if would take for him to meet your eye again. He’d shaved, for the first time in weeks, and you cursed yourself silently even as you considered briefly what it would be like to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips.

A shoulder knocked into yours – a passerby unaware of either of your identities – and you stumbled slightly. It was only for a second, but it was enough to separate the two of you for a brief moment. And you looked down in surprise as Clint turned back towards you and caught hold of your hand with his own.

You watched his hand slip around to take yours, his fingers lacing with your own. His palm was warm and softer than you remembered. He tugged you back into step beside him gently, and something selfish in your chest flipped when he didn’t immediately let go.

***

Clint led you to the bridge that overlooked Serpentine Lake, tucking his hands into his pockets as you stood against the rails. He’d later, when he’d heard your breath shudder, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you in against his side. You hadn’t questioned the change in his demeanor – the anniversary had granted the two of you a brief reprieve in his staunch avoidance of you – you’d just let your head rest against his shoulder.

It was hours before you left that spot, long after the last mourners had gone, and after the very last candle had gone out.

tags:@trekkingaroundasgard@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@lol-you-thought@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies@youralphawolf72@maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky@melaclintbartoncorner@loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics@ace-fandom-dumbass@kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa@earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86@darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93

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javierpenaismyhusband · 2 months ago

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Chapter Two: Trouble

Javier Pena x m!reader

Chapter summary: Caleb realizes that Javier is his new history teacher when he walks into the classroom. He tries to corner him, but Javier quickly shuts him down, telling him it's not the right place for this. Just as Caleb is about to respond, the bell rings. Throughout the day, Caleb struggles with the thought of being in the same space as the man who broke him. When the time comes for history class, Caleb can't face Javier and decides to skip the lesson entirely. This pattern continues for two weeks, as Caleb avoids his history class altogether.Finally, after a fight with a boy named Jack in the hallway, Javier takes Caleb to his office, The tension between them is thick as Caleb, frustrated and hurt, opens up to Javier, saying the things he's been holding in for so long.

Chapter warnings: not smut in this chapter, a lot of thinking, fights,and kida fluff not sure.

Note: This is a big chapter with a lot of things happening. I think it’s kind of boring, but it's important for story development, so please be patient. I’m not sure which warnings I should include, and in some parts, I might repeat myself, but please let me know if you like it and want me to continue. Feel free to share your thoughts or any suggestions for fixes or things you think I should add. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

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The sharp buzz of my alarm shattered the silence at 7:00 AM, dragging me out of sleep. As I reached to silence it, a sharp pain shot through my hand, and my body ached—especially my ass. The memories of the previous night flooded back, sinking my mood instantly. I pushed myself out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. Standing at the sink, I brushed my teeth and took a piss, but I couldn’t avoid the mirror. There he was: an 18-year-old kid with bleached blonde hair, skinny as hell, tattoos scattered across his right arm and back. A kid who, apparently, some random guy had mistaken for a prostitute.

That night left me feeling disgusted. Javier Peña—his name burned in my mind. I thought I was flirting with an older, hot guy at the bar, but then he tried to pay me afterward. It wrecked me.

I sighed and stepped into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the bad taste the memory left. Once I was done, I made some black coffee and threw together a quick sandwich before grabbing my skateboard. My car sat in the driveway, but I never used it for school—the campus was only ten minutes away by board.

I got there early, as usual. Early enough to enjoy a cigarette in peace at my spot, where I had a perfect view of the history classroom window. I dropped my bag onto the grass, unwrapped the sandwich, and ate in silence. Once I finished, I took out a cigarette and lit it up. The smoke curled up into the morning air, and I watched two teachers I couldn’t stand walk into the building. After about ten minutes, students started trickling in.

I stood up, tossing the cigarette butt onto the ground, and decided to head to the cafeteria to grab a water bottle. By the time I got back to my spot, something caught my eye in the history classroom. No way. It couldn’t be.

But there he was. Javier Peña.

The same guy who had screwed me last night and tried to pay me for it... now standing behind the teacher’s desk.

My heart raced, a wave of anger and disbelief washing over me. I was ready to bolt. I could have run and avoided him altogether. But then it hit me—this was my chance. My chance to make him feel as low as he made me feel.

I smirked and climbed through the open window. Casually, I pulled out another cigarette and lit it, staring directly at him. His eyes locked onto mine, widening in shock.

“No... what are you doing here? Don’t tell me that…”

Javier stood there, staring at me like he'd just seen a ghost. The bravado he’d worn like armor was cracking now. His eyes darted around the room, almost like he was trying to figure a way out, but there was no escaping this.

“Tell me…” he started, his voice quieter now, the confidence wavering. “Tell me at least you’re 18.” His eyes searched mine desperately, like he needed me to confirm it, needed me to say something that could save him from this mess.

I held his gaze, not saying a word, letting the silence stretch between us, just long enough for him to squirm.

“I’m eighteen,” I finally said, cool and calm. “But that doesn’t change what you did.”

Javier let out a sharp breath, relief flickering in his eyes for a split second before he rubbed his face again. “This is not the place for this,” he muttered, shaking his head like he was trying to reason with himself more than with me. “Do you have any idea what this could do to me? This could ruin my career.”

I shrugged, leaning back against the wall, pretending to think about it. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you pulled out your wallet last night.”

His face twisted in frustration, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice even more. “You don’t get it. If anyone finds out about this—” He cut himself off, glancing toward the door, paranoia creeping into his voice. “It’s not just my job. It’s everything.”

I laughed softly, pushing away from the wall. “Everything? Seems to me you were pretty willing to risk it all for a quick lay last night. But now, suddenly, you're worried about consequences?”

Javier’s face flushed red with anger and maybe a bit of shame. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Paid for it?” I interrupted, my voice dripping with mockery. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”

He stepped even closer, and this time his frustration was boiling over. “Listen, Caleb. This isn’t a game. You need to drop this. We both do. Walk away, and no one has to know.”

I could feel the anger rising in me again, my heart pounding in my chest. “Just walk away?” I repeated, stepping toward him, my voice louder now. “You think I’m just going to forget how you treated me? You think you can just brush this under the rug because you’re scared?”

Javier’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m not scared,” he snapped, but there was a tremor in his voice. “I’m trying to protect both of us. You don’t know how bad this could get.”

But I wasn’t listening anymore. The anger, the frustration—it all surged up at once, and before I could stop myself, I shoved him. Hard.

Javier stumbled backward, hitting the whiteboard with a loud thud, his eyes wide in shock. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice hoarse with anger, but I could see the panic in his eyes. The power he’d held over me last night was gone, replaced with fear—fear of what I might do next, fear of what this might cost him.

“You deserve worse,” I shot back, my chest heaving with the adrenaline coursing through me. “You’re lucky that’s all I did.”

Javier straightened, brushing himself off, but his hands were shaking now, his cool demeanor completely shattered. He looked at me, his eyes dark with a mixture of anger and desperation. “You don’t know what you’re messing with, Caleb. You think you’re in control here, but you’re not. This will destroy you too.”

I shook my head, stepping toward him again, standing just inches away. “Maybe. But you know what? At least I’m not the one hiding.”

Javier flinched at that, his face pale, and for the first time, I saw something like defeat in his eyes.

This wasn’t over, and we both knew it. But for now, I had him on the ropes, and that was enough.

I could see it in his eyes—the fear, the confusion, the desperation to regain control. But he didn’t have it anymore. I did.

As the silence stretched between us, I walked toward him slowly, deliberate with each step. His back was already against the whiteboard, nowhere for him to go, and the panic in his eyes flickered again. He opened his mouth, probably to say something, to plead or threaten, but before he could get a word out, I pressed my hands against the wall on either side of him, pinning him in place.

Our faces were inches apart now, the air between us heavy and thick with everything unspoken. He looked at me, eyes wide, searching mine for something—maybe a way out, maybe a sign that I was bluffing. But I wasn’t.

I leaned in closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. For a second, neither of us moved, the tension between us electric, until I closed the distance and pressed my lips against his. The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle; it was charged with everything we’d been holding back—the anger, the desire, the frustration. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t resist. He kissed me back.

Then, just as quickly, his hands came up to my chest, and he pushed me away, but not forcefully—just enough to break the kiss. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked at me with a mixture of panic and longing.

“We can’t do this,” he breathed, his voice shaking, barely above a whisper. His hands were still on my chest, but they weren’t pushing me away anymore. “This… this is wrong.”

I smirked, stepping closer again, my body pressing against his, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Why not?” I asked, my voice low, teasing. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

Javier swallowed hard, his eyes flickering from my lips to my eyes, torn between what he knew was wrong and what he clearly wanted. “That was a mistake. You—” he stammered, but his words died in his throat as I leaned in again, brushing my lips against his neck this time, my hands trailing down his sides, slow, deliberate.

“You’re scared,” I murmured, my lips grazing his skin, feeling him shudder beneath my touch. “But I know you want this.”

Javier stood there, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us. His breath was ragged, chest rising and falling as he fought for control. I could see the conflict written all over his face—the panic, the desire, the guilt.

“I’m your teacher,” he finally said, his voice strained, like he was trying to hold onto whatever scrap of authority he thought he still had. “You need to understand that.”

I stepped closer, watching him try to brace himself, his body tensing as if he could somehow keep me at bay with those words. “Teacher,” I repeated, my tone laced with mockery. “Is that what you are now? You sure didn’t act like one last night.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “Last night was a mistake,” he said through gritted teeth. “I should’ve known better.” His hands were trembling, but he still pressed them against my chest, trying to create space between us. “This—this can’t happen. I can’t let this happen.”

I tilted my head, looking him dead in the eyes, my voice soft but cutting. “You can’t?” I whispered, moving just close enough that our lips were almost touching again. “Then why haven’t you stopped me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and I could see the way his pulse quickened, his body betraying him even as his mind screamed at him to get control. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not with me this close.

“Caleb…” His voice was barely audible now, pleading, as if saying my name would somehow anchor him. “This isn’t right. I’m supposed to be the one who—”

“Who what?” I interrupted, my lips brushing his ear as I spoke, feeling him shudder under the touch. “The one who teaches me? Guides me? Keeps me safe?” I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, which were dark with conflict. “Because you didn’t seem too concerned about that when you were undressing me with your eyes last night.”

His breath hitched, the tension snapping between us like a live wire. “That was different,” he muttered, but the conviction in his voice was gone. “You… you weren’t supposed to be there.”

I smiled darkly, my hand slipping down his side, feeling him tense beneath my fingers. “But I was there, Javier. And so were you. So don’t pretend you didn’t want it.”

Javier’s eyes flickered, the guilt warring with desire in them, and for a moment, I could see him teetering on the edge. He opened his mouth, probably to protest again, but nothing came out. His hands were still on my chest, but they weren’t pushing me away anymore.

“I’m your teacher,” he repeated weakly, but the words felt hollow now, like he was saying them more to himself than to me, desperately clinging to a role he had already lost.

I leaned in, my lips brushing his neck, and he inhaled sharply, his whole body shuddering under the touch. “You’re supposed to have control,” I whispered against his skin, the heat between us rising. “But look at you. You don’t. Not anymore.”

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but I could feel him slipping. His hands curled into my shirt, fingers tightening as if holding onto me would somehow keep him from falling over the edge. “This could ruin me,” he whispered, his voice cracking with desperation.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes again. “Maybe,” I said, my voice low, teasing. “But it didn’t stop you last night. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Javier’s face flushed with anger, and for a second, I thought he might snap, might actually push me away with some real force. But he didn’t. He just stood there, frozen, torn between what he knew was wrong and what he wanted.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice hoarse, barely hanging onto control. “I have everything to lose. My job, my reputation—if anyone found out…” His voice trailed off, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair, clearly unraveling.

I moved closer again, pinning him against the wall, our bodies almost touching now, the tension thick in the air between us. “Then why are you still here?” I asked, my voice soft but dangerous. “Why haven’t you walked away?”

He looked at me, his eyes dark with something between fear and desire, his breathing ragged. “I’m supposed to protect you,” he said, but the conviction in his voice had all but disappeared.

I smirked, leaning in even closer until our lips were a breath apart. “Then do it,” I whispered, my voice a challenge. “Stop me.”

For a moment, we stood there in silence, his hands trembling on my chest, his eyes locked on mine. But he didn’t push me away. He couldn’t.

Javier’s face twisted in frustration, like he was trying to summon the will to do the right thing, but it was too late. He had already crossed the line, and we both knew it.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and electric. His chest was still rising and falling sharply, his hands shaking at his sides. I could feel the tension in the air, the way his eyes flickered between me and the door, like he was calculating how much time he had left before this whole thing spiraled out of control.

And then the bell rang.

The sudden sound snapped us both out of the moment. Javier’s head snapped toward the door, his expression shifting from frustration to panic.

“We’re out of time,” he said quickly, his voice low and urgent. His hands were shaking now, but he quickly straightened his shirt and motioned toward the window.

I didn’t say anything, just watched as he moved to the window, glancing back at me with that mixture of fear and something else I couldn’t quite read. The bell’s ringing was still echoing in my ears, but the gravity of the situation started sinking in.

“Go,” he said, his voice tight. “Out the window. Now.”

I stared at him for a moment, seeing the wild fear in his eyes, the way he was barely holding it together. This was it. He had stopped me. He had drawn the line. But even now, I could see how much he hated himself for it. He was trying to protect both of us—his career, his sanity.

I stepped closer, our eyes locking one last time, both of us breathing heavily, the heat still between us. The words I wanted to say hung in my throat—words that would push him, make him snap, but I knew it wouldn’t help. Not now.

I turned and climbed out of the window, the cool morning air hitting my face as I landed outside the classroom. I took one last look back, seeing Javier through the window, standing there with his back to me, his head bowed like he was still trying to process what had just happened.

The bell rang again, louder this time, as students began to pour into the building. I felt the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders, knowing that whatever had just happened between us was far from over.

But for now, I left.

The school day started in a blur, the kind of disorienting rush that felt more like a forced routine than anything else. First up was gymnastics. I never liked it, but I had to be there—probably the only class I could manage to make it through without feeling too much like an outsider. The gym was a typical mix of echoing voices, the sound of feet hitting mats, and the occasional whistle from Coach Mendez.

We spent the period working on basic stretches and balance exercises. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and at least it didn’t require me to think too much. My muscles were sore from last night, but I kept moving, trying to ignore the dull throb in my body. I didn’t even bother looking around at the other students. I kept my focus on the task at hand.

After gym came math—my least favorite class. Numbers, formulas, and equations. The kind of stuff that made my head spin. Mrs. Jordan was droning on about algebraic expressions, but I wasn’t paying attention. I kept glancing around, hoping to avoid thinking about last night, but it was impossible.

“Caleb,” Mrs. Jordan’s voice snapped me back to attention. She was a tall, stern woman with glasses perched on the tip of her nose, her eyes sharp like a hawk. “Do you have something to add to the lesson?”

I swallowed, feeling the eyes of the class on me. “No, ma’am,” I mumbled, looking down at my notebook.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Then I suggest you pay attention, Mr. Ford,” she said, moving on to the next student.

I slouched in my seat, trying to focus, but my mind kept wandering back to Javier. The way his lips had brushed mine, the way he pushed me away afterward—everything from last night was still replaying in my head. I couldn’t get it out.

Finally, it was lunchtime. I made my way to the cafeteria, a dull sense of dread gnawing at my stomach. I didn’t feel like eating, but it was better than sitting through another class without some sort of distraction. I grabbed a tray and wandered through the line, not really paying attention to what I was picking out. A sandwich, a bottle of water, and some chips. The food didn’t matter.

As I was heading toward my usual spot, the far corner of the cafeteria where I could eat in peace, I saw him.

Javier.

And a woman.

My heart sank a little. They were standing near the salad bar, talking and laughing—laughing like everything was normal. He was wearing his usual dark jeans and a button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, looking relaxed and… normal. The woman beside him was a teacher I hadn’t seen before. She was older than me, maybe in her mid-thirties, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a flowy blouse. She was smiling, and Javier was smiling back at her.

It felt like something inside me snapped. Something I hadn’t even known was there broke.

I watched them for a moment longer, and that’s when he saw me.

Our eyes locked, and I could see the flicker of anxiety in his expression. His body tensed, his smile faltering, and I could tell that for a split second, he regretted even being in the same room as me. I could see the way he quickly glanced away from me, as if he was trying to pretend it didn’t happen. But it did. And I was standing there, feeling like an idiot. I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or anger—probably both—but it stung all the same.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t do anything. I just… left.

I grabbed my tray and turned on my heel, heading toward the exit of the cafeteria. I didn’t want to see them together. I didn’t want to deal with the hurt that was starting to settle in my chest.

The rest of the day was a blur. Physics came next, but I couldn’t focus on anything Mr. Chang was saying. The laws of motion, force and acceleration, all of it felt like nonsense. My mind kept wandering back to Javier. What had he been talking about with that woman in the cafeteria? Did he look at her the same way he’d looked at me last night? Was I just a one-time mistake, something he could forget once the night was over?

I kept asking myself why I even cared.

Why the hell did it matter? He was nobody—just some guy I had a one-night stand with. It shouldn’t have meant anything to me. He shouldn’t have meant anything to me.

But still, there was this ache. This fucking gnawing feeling that I couldn’t shake.

Why did I care so much?

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like I knew him, really. I had barely spoken to him outside of last night. And yet, seeing him so relaxed with that woman—laughing, smiling, so fucking normal—had felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

I stared blankly at the notes in front of me, unable to concentrate. My mind wouldn’t stop. It kept coming back to him, like a constant loop I couldn’t get out of. Maybe I had let myself think there was something more between us. Maybe I was just hoping for something that never existed.

Sure! Let's dive deeper into Caleb’s thoughts as he processes the situation and his conflicting emotions about Javier. Here's the revised version:

I kept asking myself why I even cared.

Why the hell did it matter? He was nobody—just some guy I had a one-night stand with. It shouldn’t have meant anything to me. He shouldn’t have meant anything to me.

But still, there was this ache. This fucking gnawing feeling that I couldn’t shake.

Why did I care so much?

The last class was history. And, of course, it was with him. Javier.

I sat at the back of the room, my head down, trying to avoid his eyes. He was standing at the front, scribbling something on the board, but every now and then, I could feel his gaze flicker over to me. I didn’t look up, not even when I felt that familiar weight of his attention on me. But I knew he was watching—his posture stiff, his movements hesitant. He was nervous. Uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be here, not with me in the room.

What did he expect? That I’d just forget about everything that had happened?

I had to remind myself—he wasn’t anyone special. Just a guy who’d made a mistake. That’s all it was.

Still, every time I felt his eyes on me, I could see the guilt there. The same guilt I was trying to push down, but it wasn’t going anywhere. I could almost hear him thinking, What the hell are you doing here?

It was too much.

I couldn’t do this anymore. I slammed my notebook shut, making the sound echo around the classroom. Everyone’s heads turned toward me, but I didn’t care. I grabbed my bag, yanking it off the floor with more force than necessary. My pulse was racing. My skin felt like it was burning with frustration.

I wasn’t going to sit here and pretend like everything was fine.

“I’m not feeling well,” I muttered, not bothering to look up as I slung the strap over my shoulder. My voice was tight, clipped. No one questioned it—no one ever did when I said something like that.

I stormed out of the classroom, not sparing a second glance at Javier. He was still standing at the board, probably frozen in shock. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see him, not like this. Not after everything.

The hallway was empty and cold, the silence almost deafening. My thoughts were a mess. Part of me wanted to turn around, go back, confront him. Ask him why it was so easy for him to forget me, like I was nothing more than a quick fix. But another part of me—the smarter part—knew that nothing good would come from that.

So why did I care?

I shook my head as I walked faster down the corridor, feeling the anger bubbling up again. He was just a guy. A teacher. Someone I barely knew. But I’d let myself get caught up in whatever this was, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering if I was just some random mistake for him. Was he just embarrassed about what happened last night? Was I that forgettable?

I pushed the thoughts away as I reached the door to the outside. I stepped into the cold air, feeling the sharp breeze hit my face, clearing my mind for a second. But even as I walked away from the school, the weight of the day hung heavy on my shoulders.

I grabbed my skateboard and headed home, the weight of the day dragging me down with every step. I barely remembered the ride back, just the sense of needing to be somewhere quiet, somewhere far from all the mess I had in my head.

I didn’t want to think about Javier. I didn’t want to think about how he looked at me in class, or how I’d felt when I saw him with that woman. But no matter how hard I tried to push it all aside, it kept creeping back in. The way his gaze flickered to me like he was hoping I’d disappear. The guilt. The regret. It was all there, hanging between us.

When I got home, I didn’t bother going inside. I went straight to the roof.

I liked it up there. The world seemed a little quieter from up here, the noise of the streets fading into the background. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city, and I could feel the cool breeze against my skin. I took out a cigarette from the pack I had in my pocket, lit it, and took a slow drag, the smoke curling around me like a shield.

I let the silence wrap around me, my thoughts swirling in my head. I could still feel the frustration, the tight knot in my chest, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal. It wasn’t even about the sex anymore. It was about how everything had felt afterward. How he had acted.

I exhaled slowly, staring at the horizon.

I’ll never step foot in his class again.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut, but it also brought a strange sense of relief. He had made it clear that last night was a mistake, that it was something he wanted to forget. So why should I go back and face him? What was the point? I didn’t owe him anything, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to put myself through that again.

I took another drag of my cigarette, staring out into the distance as the sky turned dark. For the first time in hours, I felt like I could finally breathe again. The anger still simmered under the surface, but at least for now, I didn’t have to deal with it.

No more Javier. No more history class. It was over.

Two weeks had passed since that day. Since I’d walked out of history class and told myself I’d never go back.

And I hadn’t.

I kept up with my other classes, studying hard enough to maintain decent grades. Gym, math, physics—it was all manageable, and I was doing well, even though the frustration of everything that happened with Javier still gnawed at me. The only class I was completely ignoring was history. I hadn’t even thought about opening the textbook. It didn’t matter how well I was doing in everything else—history was a big, fat zero.

Eventually, it caught up to me.

One day, during lunch, the principal called me into his office. I sat there, staring at the bland walls, feeling a knot in my stomach as he asked, "Why haven’t you been attending Mr. Peña’s class?"

I lied. Said I was having some personal issues, that I wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t question it too much, but I could tell he wasn’t buying my story. Still, he let me go with a warning, telling me I needed to sort it out, or it would start affecting my grades more seriously.

As I left the office, my head buzzing with irritation, I ran into him. Javier. Of course, just my luck.

He was walking down the hall, his eyes meeting mine the second I stepped out. For a moment, we just stared at each other—me, trying to figure out how the hell I still cared, and him, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

I didn’t give him the chance. I just brushed past him without saying a word, the weight of our unresolved tension pressing down on me harder than before.

I got to the hallway, still fuming, and that’s when it happened.

A kid—Jack, some obnoxious loudmouth from one of my classes—threw a ball right at my head. I felt it hit me square on the back, and I spun around, my fists already clenched. Jack was laughing, thinking he was hilarious. But I wasn’t in the mood.

Without thinking, I walked up to him and punched him in the nose.

He stumbled back, clutching his face, but then he punched me right back. That’s when the fight really started. Fists flying, kids gathering around, shouting, egging us on. I didn’t care. I didn’t think. All I could feel was the burning anger, the need to hit something, anything.

The teachers rushed in soon enough, pulling us apart before it could get worse. But the damage was done. My knuckles were bruised, my head was pounding, and I knew I was in for it.

One of the teachers grabbed my arm, leading me away from the crowd. And just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, I saw Javier walking toward me.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low, calm. Too calm.

He took me by the arm and led me toward his office. My stomach dropped as we walked, the reality of what had just happened settling in.

This wasn’t going to end well. Not for me.

As soon as we stepped into Javier’s office, the tension between us was suffocating. He didn’t say much, just told me to “stay here and wait.” His voice was calm but clipped, like he was holding back. I didn’t argue. I just did what he said and watched as he left the room.

The second the door closed, I stood up. My eyes were stinging, and my knuckles were throbbing from the fight. At least I wasn’t the one with the broken nose—that thought gave me a small, bitter sense of satisfaction. But the adrenaline was wearing off, and I was starting to feel the pain, both in my hands and somewhere deeper inside me.

I glanced around his office. It wasn’t much—a few bookshelves, a desk with papers scattered all over, and a framed picture on the wall that I didn’t bother looking at too closely. It was like the rest of him—organized on the surface, but with a mess just underneath.

I leaned back against the wall, flexing my bruised fingers. The silence in the room felt heavy, like it was pressing in on me, and for a second, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My thoughts were a jumble of everything—Javier, the fight, the fact that I’d probably just made things a hundred times worse.

Before I could spiral too deep, the door opened, and Javier walked back in.

He was carrying an ice pack and some clean paper towels. No lecture, no anger—just quiet efficiency. He walked over to me, his expression unreadable, and handed me the ice pack.

“Sit down,” he said, his voice steady but soft, like he was trying not to make things worse.

I hesitated for a second but did what he said, sinking into the chair. He handed me the paper towels, and I could see the way his eyes flicked to my bruised knuckles. He was probably trying to figure out what to say next, but all I could think about was how surreal this moment felt—him, the guy who messed me up in ways I hadn’t even processed yet, taking care of me after a fight I didn’t even want to think about.

As I reached out to take the ice pack from him, Javier’s grip tightened just enough to stop me. I looked up at him, but he didn’t meet my eyes—his focus was on my hand, bruised and swollen from the fight. Without saying a word, he gently grabbed my wrist and placed the ice pack back against my knuckles, holding it there with a firm but careful grip.

He finally spoke, his voice low and calm. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been coming to my class.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to pull my hand back, but his hold didn’t let up. “Don’t act like you care,” I muttered, the bitterness in my voice sharper than I’d intended. The words tasted sour, and the frustration from the past two weeks bubbled to the surface.

His expression stayed neutral, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes. Guilt? Regret? It didn’t matter.

“I do care,” he said softly. “You can’t keep skipping, Caleb. You’re only hurting yourself.”

I scoffed, finally managing to pull my hand away, even though the ice pack fell to the floor in the process. “Hurting myself? Like you give a damn. You didn’t care back then, why should you care now?”

He sat back in his chair, watching me with that same calm expression, though I could see the tension in his shoulders. “This isn’t about what happened that night. This is about your future. You need to finish school.”

“Finish school?” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “What for? So I can sit in your class and pretend like nothing ever happened? I don’t need that.”

Javier’s jaw tightened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice a little firmer now. “If you don’t come back, you’re going to fail this year. Again.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I didn’t let him see it. I wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. Instead, I just stared back at him, my anger simmering beneath the surface. “Maybe I don’t care,” I shot back, my voice quieter now, but still laced with defiance.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re throwing it all away, Caleb. Over something that doesn’t have to ruin everything.”

I wanted to argue, to throw something back at him, but the truth was, I didn’t know what to say. Part of me knew he was right—I couldn’t keep skipping class. I was on a path to fail, and for what? To avoid him?

But the other part of me, the one still hurt and angry, couldn’t let it go.

The tension in the room thickened as Javier’s words hung in the air. It felt like a suffocating weight pressing down on me, and before I could stop myself, I snapped.

“What do you want from me?” I shot up from the chair, the anger bubbling over, spilling out in every direction. My voice was louder than I’d intended, but I didn’t care. “You think I don’t know I’m screwing this up? You think I haven’t been trying to bury that night, to forget about it?”

Javier sat there, silent, his eyes on me, but I couldn’t stop now.

“Fuck!” I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small space of his office. “I’ve been trying so hard, so hard to act like none of this matters, like you don’t matter. But every time I think I’ve got it under control, something happens. And then I see you with that woman, laughing like none of it even touched you, and it all just… falls apart.”

I stopped pacing, my breath ragged, my fists clenched at my sides. “I know we don’t have anything. I know it was just one night, and I don’t even know why I care so much. I shouldn’t! But for some reason, I can’t fucking let it go!”

I locked eyes with him, my chest heaving with the weight of everything I’d been holding back. The silence between us was deafening, and in that moment, I felt completely exposed, like I’d ripped open a part of myself I wasn’t ready to show.

Javier’s face was unreadable, his usual calm expression masking whatever storm might be brewing beneath the surface. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just watched me as if trying to piece together the right words.

But the damage was done. I’d said too much, let too much slip. Now, I could only wait for whatever came next.

Javier stood up, his eyes searching mine, as if he was trying to find the right words—maybe even the right way to respond. But before he could say anything, he just stepped toward me. And without a single word, he pulled me into a hug.

At first, I froze. I didn’t expect this. His arms wrapped around me, his grip tight, as if he was trying to take all the anger and the weight of the night away from me. I could feel the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his cologne—everything about him was just… there. For a moment, I felt something inside me soften.

But I couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not with everything I was feeling.

I pushed him away, hard. The force of it was enough that he stumbled back a step, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite read—surprise, maybe, or disappointment. But I didn’t give him the chance to say anything. I turned, storming out of his office, feeling a mix of rage and confusion.

I wasn’t going to let him hold me like that. I couldn’t let myself fall for whatever the hell he was trying to do.

I walked down the hallway, my anger still bubbling, and headed straight to the principal’s office. When I pushed open the door, she looked up from her paperwork, her expression calm but unreadable.

"Caleb," she greeted me, as if she wasn't expecting to see me. "I wanted to talk to you about the fight."

I didn't beat around the bush. "How many days of detention do I have?"

She glanced at her calendar and raised an eyebrow. "You don't have detention, Caleb. But I'll have you apologize to Jack."

Before I could say anything else, Javier appeared in the doorway, his eyes catching mine briefly. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent, watching from a distance as I stood there.

I ignored him and turned my attention back to the principal. "Just give me detention," I said, my voice blunt. "I'm not saying sorry to that asshole."

She stared at me for a long moment before nodding, as if she had already expected this response. "Three days, then," she said, scribbling something in her book. "I expect you to return on Monday."

I didn’t say anything. I just turned on my heel and walked out of the office, my mind still a whirlwind of anger and confusion.

As I passed Javier, he said nothing. But I could feel his eyes on me—like he was waiting for me to turn around, to give him one last glance, or even a word.

But I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Instead, I just walked out of the school, feeling the weight of everything—my fight, the hug, and the mess I’d gotten myself into.

I was taking three days off. Three days to figure out what the hell I was doing, and what the hell he was to me.

Next Chapter

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whisperthatruns · 6 months ago

Text

Jail Poems

I am sitting in a cell with a view of evil parallels, Waiting thunder to splinter me into a thousand me's. It is not enough to be in one cage with one self; I want to sit opposite every prisoner in every hole. Doors roll and bang, every slam a finality, bang! The junkie disappeared into a red noise, stoning out his hell. The odored wino congratulates himself on not smoking, Fingerprints left lying on black inky gravestones, Noises of pain seeping through steel walls crashing Reach my own hurt. I become part of someone forever. Wild accents of criminals are sweeter to me than hum of cops, Busy battening down hatches of human souls; cargo Destined for ports of accusations, harbors of guilt. What do policemen eat, Socrates, still prisoner, old one?

Painter, paint me a crazy jail, mad water-color cells. Poet, how old is suffering? Write it in yellow lead. God, make me a sky on my glass ceiling. I need stars now, To lead through this atmosphere of shrieks and private hells, Entrances and exits, in . . . out . . . up . . . down, the civic seesaw. Here — me — now — always here somehow.

In a universe of cells—who is not in jail? Jailers. In a world of hospitals—who is not sick? Doctors. A golden sardine is swimming in my head. Oh we know some things, man, about some things Like jazz and jails and God. Saturday is a good day to go to jail.

Now they give a new form, quivering jelly-like, That proves any boy can be president of Muscatel. They are mad at him because he's one of Them. Gray-speckled unplanned nakedness; stinking Fingers grasping toilet bowl. Mr. America wants to bathe. Look! On the floor, lying across America's face— A real movie star featured in a million newsreels. What am I doing—feeling compassion? When he comes out of it, he will help kill me. He probably hates living.

Nuts, skin bolts, clanking in his stomach, scrambled. His society's gone to pieces in his belly, bloated. See the great American windmill, tilting at itself, Good solid stock, the kind that made America drunk. Success written all over his street-streaked ass. Successful-type success, forty home runs in one inning. Stop suffering, Jack, you can't fool us. We know. This is the greatest country in the world, ain't it? He didn't make it. Wino in Cell 3.

There have been too many years in this short span of mine. My soul demands a cave of its own, like the Jain god; Yet I must make it go on, hard like jazz, glowing In this dark plastic jungle, land of long night, chilled. My navel is a button to push when I want inside out. Am I not more than a mass of entrails and rough tissue? Must I break my bones? Drink my wine-diluted blood? Should I dredge old sadness from my chest? Not again, All those ancient balls of fire, hotly swallowed, let them lie. Let me spit breath mists of introspection, bits of me, So that when I am gone, I shall be in the air.

Someone whom I am is no one. Something I have done is nothing. Someplace I have been is nowhere. I am not me. What of the answers I must find questions for? All these strange streets I must find cities for, Thank God for beatniks.

All night the stink of rotting people, Fumes rising from pyres of live men, Fill my nose with gassy disgust, Drown my exposed eyes in tears.

Traveling God salesmen, bursting my ear drum With the dullest part of a good sexy book, Impatient for Monday and adding machines.

Yellow-eyed dogs whistling in evening.

The baby came to jail today.

One more day to hell, filled with floating glands.

The jail, a huge hollow metal cube Hanging from the moon by a silver chain. Someday Johnny Appleseed is going to chop it down.

Three long strings of light Braided into a ray.

I am apprehensive about my future; My past has turned its back on me.

Shadows I see, forming on the wall, Pictures of desires protected from my own eyes.

After spending all night constructing a dream, Morning came and blinded me with light. Now I seek among mountains of crushed eggshells For the God damned dream I never wanted.

Sitting here writing things on paper, Instead of sticking the pencil into the air.

The Battle of Monumental Failures raging, Both hoping for a good clean loss.

Now I see the night, silently overwhelming day.

Caught in imaginary webs of conscience, I weep over my acts, yet believe.

Cities should be built on one side of the street.

People who can't cast shadows Never die of freckles.

The end always comes last.

We sat at a corner table, Devouring each other word by word, Until nothing was left, repulsive skeletons.

I sit here writing, not daring to stop, For fear of seeing what's outside my head.

There, Jesus, didn't hurt a bit, did it?

I am afraid to follow my flesh over those narrow Wide hard soft female beds, but I do.

Link by link, we forged the chain. Then, discovering the end around our necks, We bugged out.

I have never seen a wild poetic loaf of bread, But if I did, I would eat it, crust and all.

From how many years away does a baby come?

Universality, duality, totality . . . .one.

The defective on the floor, mumbling, Was once a man who shouted across tables.

Come, help flatten a raindrop.

Written in San Francisco City Prison Cell 3, 1959

Bob Kaufman (1925--1986), Collected Poems of Bob Kaufman (City Lights Books, 2019)

#bob kaufman #jail poems #collected poems of bob kaufman #poetry #incarceration for ts

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chickensarentcheap · 2 years ago

Text

Lost and Found- Chapter 7

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings: angst, mild profanity, brief mention of childhood cancer and death

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @thesirenrealm @residentdormouse @asirensrage @munstysmind @muchadoaboutcj @starryeyes2000 @karimac @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @themaradaniels

My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/115598767

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t a social call?”

“Is that any way to greet your nearest and dearest?” Nik chides. “Haven’t we progressed to pleasantries by now?”

“I’ve spent enough time with you to know you never call with pleasant news. Or ideas.”

“It’s been a couple of years since I got you into trouble. I thought it was kind of fun. The last time we got together.”

“You and I have very different views on what’s considered ‘fun’. Being caught in the middle of a prison riot isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.” Tyler catches movement out of the corner of his eye; watching as Delaney briefly slides upon the door and sets a mug of coffee down on the deck. And he returns her shaky smile with a brief one of his own; offering a stiff nod when she raises her hand in farewell.

He wants to feel something. Anything. Regret, guilt, humiliation. And while he’s able to acknowledge that he hurt her and should find a way to make amends, he can’t help but wonder if it’s even worth the effort. It’ll never work; the two of them rarely see eye to eye on where their relationship stands or where it’s heading. He will never be the man she wants him to be; he can’t bring himself to open up to her or commit to anything more serious than they’re already experiencing. And she’ll always be in competition with Esme; everything she says and does will constantly be compared to the year he’d spent with someone else.

“It wasn’t THAT bad,” Nik’s voice jolts him back to the conversation at hand. “You got out of there unscathed. Relatively, anyway. And I’m kind of insulted; you assuming I only call under bad circumstances. Maybe I just missed you and wanted to catch up. See how you’re doing.”

“I’m the same as I was when you called out of the blue six months ago. Old, sore, and miserable.”

“So basically the same as the day I met you. Minus the ‘old’. You always did have the personality of a crotchety old man, standing on his front porch with a shotgun, yelling at people to stay off his lawn.”

Smirking, he heads barefoot across the deck and then peers through the window; making sure the kitchen is empty before grabbing the cup of coffee. “Comparing me to Clint Eastwood? That’s a compliment. I’ll take it.”

“It’s nice to see that some things don’t really change. You’re still a smart ass, Tyler.”

“And you’re still a sweet talker. Flattery gets you everywhere.” Taking a swig of his drink, he grimaces at the bitter taste; mumbling profanities as he heads for the edge of the deck and dumps the coffee out onto the grass. “You alright? How’s things?”

“Busy. As usual. The bad guys don’t take days off.”

“Being busy keeps you out of trouble. Or keeps you in it. I know how you get when you’re bored’ all grumpy and shit when business is slow. Nice to hear you’re keeping a roof over your head. What house are you on now? Six? Seven? Last time we talked you were thinking about buying that penthouse in Dubai. Somewhere you could keep your boy toy stashed away. How is he anyway? Did you feed him breakfast and get him on the school bus alright?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole. Remind me why I call you again?”

“Usually because you need me to bail your ass out of trouble. Or you want to get me into some. Like I said, I know this isn’t a social call.”

“Maybe it’s both. Personal AND business. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“Depends what the business is.”

“First thing’s first. I never bought the place in Dubai. And there is no boy toy. Not anymore.”

“Sorry to hear that. You seemed pretty happy. What went wrong? He got therapy for his mummy issues?”

“He just decided he wanted to go in a different direction with his life. Without me along for the ride. Apparently, I was ‘bringing him down’. He wanted someone he could pamper and spoil and treat like a princess. Someone completely dependent on him. Subservient.”

“He definitely barked up the wrong tree with that one. Things are good, though? Other than that?”

“I’m still as assertive and bitchy as ever, if that’s what you’re asking. And things are okay. I’m still on this side of the dirt.”

“Definitely a good day when you can say that.”

“Things are good. I’M good. What about you, Tyler? How are YOU? And don’t bullshit me. I always know when you’re lying.”

He contemplates telling her about the dreams and the memories; about the immense loneliness and heartache that have permanently staked their claim on both heart and mind. He’d been encouraged by the feelings and the semblance of happiness he’d experienced when he met Delaney; allowing himself to begin a relationship even though he’d made it perfectly clear that it was the last thing he really wanted. He’d been willing to try; succumbing to the pressure piled on by her brother and Koen. And while he’d enjoyed the moments of contentment and the companionship that she provided him with, they were always fleeting; finding himself quickly annoyed by her presence and her often overbearing and suffocating behaviour. Then the guilt would set in; the harsh reality that while she deserves so much better, he can’t seem to totally cut her loose. Not wanting to be alone, yet not wanting her around at the same time; desperately needing space and breathing room. And it makes him feel pathetic. Weak. The fact that his happiness still hinges on a woman who clearly showed she never meant a damn word she said to him; lying about love and her hopes for a future…THEIR future…and conning him in the same way she had so many others while on the job.

“I’m doing alright.” He chooses the easy way out. “ Working a lot of long hours. Putting out a lot of fires. Getting a lot of cats out of trees.”

Nik gives a small laugh.

“And the reno business is going good. A lot of clients on my hands. And more coming on board every week.”

“How are you feeling? Health-wise?”

“I’m in better shape than I've ever been. I feel good, Nik. Real good. Keeping myself busy. Active. Rate I’m going, I might live to be ninety.”

“And mentally?”

“It’s hit or miss. Some days are good, some not so good. It’s a crap shoot.”

“You still on the meds? Are you…?”

“I’m stable, Nik. I keep on top of it. Haven’t had a really bad episode in a while. It’s under control.”

“What about the other stuff?”

“I’m clean. Sober. Haven’t had a drink or gone anywhere near Oxy in four years. And I plan on keeping it that way. Now…” His knees crack as he lowers himself onto the top step of the deck stairs. “… is this where we quit the bullshit chit-chat and get down to why you really called? Because I am staring down a twelve-hour shift; gotta be at the station soon.”

“I have a job for you.”

“I’m retired.”

“SEMI retired. And you said whenever I needed you…”

“I didn’t say ‘whenever’, I said if you ever found yourself in a tough spot. If a job came up that you didn’t have the right guy for.”

“I’m in a tough spot. I DO have the right men for it, but…”

“But? You either do or you don’t. What’s…?”

“There’s a client asking for you. By name. Willing to pay big money.”

“How’d they hear about me?”

“I didn’t ask. But when I told them that I had other men that were more than capable of getting the job done, they wouldn’t hear of it. Your reputation precedes you, Tyler. This isn’t the first time someone has wanted you in the driver’s seat.”

“First time it’s happened since I retired. Did you tell them? That I didn’t exactly have both feet in the pond anymore?”

“It didn’t matter. They said they only wanted you. In fact, they said it HAS to be you.”

“Sounds like they’re pretty determined.”

“They want the best. No one else will do. They won’t settle for mediocrity.”

“What kind of stakes are we looking at?”

“Pretty damn high. You’ll be going against a pretty powerful organized crime family. Hell-bent on revenge.”

“What did the client do? To get themselves on their bad side?”

“They were working a job themselves. Strictly on the down-low. Spent months infiltrating the circle. They had their cover blown last night. I had to get a team together and go in and get them out of trouble. I’ve got them somewhere safe right now, but…”

“You need to get them somewhere safer.”

“I can only keep them here for a few days. It’s a secure spot, but one that’s normally just a refuge for certain clientele. The owner is doing me a huge favour; giving them a suite to hole up in and around-the-clock protection. The goal is to get them out of the country. Take them somewhere far away while my team and I deal with things here.”

“And where exactly is ‘here’?”

“New York City.”

“Jesus Christ, Nik. You know how much I hate the North American circuit. I haven’t been that way in six, seven years. You know I like to stick to things on the other side of the globe.”

“I realize that. But I’m only doing what the client asked for. And that’s for you to handle their case. I wouldn’t have called you if they weren’t adamant about this. And if I didn’t agree that you really are the best person for this job.”

Sighing, he runs a palm along his beard. “What exactly is it you need me to do?”

“Get the client out of New York City. Get them somewhere safe. Keep an eye on them. Until my team and I handle things here.”

“Babysit, you mean.”

“Extract and protect. Tyler, I wouldn’t have called if she…”

“Hold up…hold up. It’s a SHE? Nik…”

“Tyler, they…SHE..asked for you. She’s adamant. It has to be you.”

“I’m not into rescuing damsels in distress. Nik. I’m not some knight in shining armour. I’m…”

“She comes with fragile contents.”

He falls silent; his thoughts turning to his son. That beautiful, blond-haired little boy that he’d left behind while he was sick and dying; choosing the military over his family when they’d needed him the most. And he allows himself to think of the happier times; before cancer ever became a part of their lives. The walks on the beach and the camping and fishing trips and the dreams of his son taking up his love of surfing.

“Tyler…”

“How old?”

“Four. A little girl. Her mother is terrified. Says she can’t trust just anyone with her daughter’s life. All that matters to her is the little one. Keeping her safe.”

“And exactly who are these people? That are after them? I know you said organized crime, but…”

“It’s better we discuss that in person. Along with the payout. How soon can you be in New York City?”

“How soon can you get me a flight”?

“I can get you a red eye. Your time, of course. I’ll set it all up. Contact you when everything is finalized. Can I tell them? That you’ve agreed to take it? Can I give them my word that you’ll show?”

“I’ll be there,” he promises, abruptly hanging up to end the call. And for several minutes he remains on the step; listening to the kookaburras and the rustle of leaves as a stiff breeze passes through the trees. And his chest aches and his eyes close as he once more thinks of her. Of big brown eyes and a freckle-splattered nose and hair that felt like silk when his hands moved through it.

And of the absence of her next to him.

*****

The sweatshirt is faded and tattered. His smell long gone. It had devastated her when it finally happened; preparing herself for the inevitable over the course of several months, yet still despondent when it disappeared entirely. The hoodie had been the last thing she had grabbed before fleeing the shack; snagging it off the back of the armchair in the living room on her way out the door. Wanting something…anything…to remember him by; a token or souvenir that could remind her of happier, simpler times and all of the plans they’d made for their future. And provide her comfort on the hardest of days and loneliest of nights; either wearing it as intended or simply wrapping it around her pillow. Desperately needing to feel him close to her amidst the harsh reality she’d likely never see him again; the mixture of his familiar scent and the warmth provided by the fabric the closest thing she had to being in his arms.

It had been her only link to him. Just a plain and simple burgundy garment that he’d purchased long before they met. The drawstring for the hood completely missing, the cuffs of the sleeves moth bitten and frayed, the fabric stained in various places; remnants of paint and drywall from when he’d been doing much-needed repairs and renovations on the shack. Every imperfection and loose thread served as a reminder of the time they’d spent together; ten months spent getting to know one another and growing together and planning a future. Dhaka had created a solid foundation for them to build upon; beginning with those initial five days in that dirty little hotel and room and ending with those terrifying and life-altering moments on the bridge. Everything that came after served to help them learn about one another and grow together; his long stay in the hospital, her decision to stay in Australia instead of returning to Colorado, and that comfortable little bubble they created inside that run-down little cabin in the outback. Shedding blood, sweat, and tears while turning it into a home; every coat of paint and every inch of new flooring helping to exorcise the darkness and the demons that haunted him for far too long.

Her fingers trace each hole and every frayed edge. The sweater was the one thing she’d refused to leave behind; frantically searching through both clean and dirty laundry baskets and then hastily shoving it into the lone backpack she and Millie had fled with. Choosing those stains and imperfections over the most expensive garments in her closet; the memories attached to it far more important than any price tag or designer label. Alessio had always nagged her to get rid of it; it was far too big on her petite frame, far too messy with its stains and its puckers and tears, far too ‘poor looking’. Despite refusing to get too deeply involved with his family’s illegal doings, he put far too much emphasis on being one of the ‘elite’; obsessed with the image that he not only presented and maintained, but she and Millie as well.

The latter he complained about often; her hair was too wild and untamed, she was too loud and vibrant and should be ‘seen and not heard’ and he was ‘disgusted’ by her penchant for mixing the frilliest of dresses with the sloppiest of footwear. And Millie had been devastated when he’d taken it upon himself to throw out her beloved light-up Spiderman sandals while she’d been at school; crying herself to sleep as her mother cuddled her tight and tried her very best to console her. The next morning, Esme had made it a point of replacing the shoes; buying two pairs and then boldly setting them right in the midst of all of Alessio’s Hugo Boss and Bruno Malli loafers. He had crossed a line and she refused to let it slip; no one disrespected her daughter and got away with it. Those sandals representing everything that is beautiful and perfect about her little girl. Carefree and confident, vibrant and creative, feisty and resilient. And no one was going to strip her of those things and turn her into a watered-down version of who she was meant to be.

He had tried the same nonsense with the sweater; throwing it into the bin in the kitchen and burying it under household waste in hopes of preventing her from finding it. When she couldn’t locate it after an especially long and trying day of attempting to keep up the lies and the fake persona, she’d just KNOWN he was the culprit. And she’d frantically and angrily torn apart every inch of the house in order to find it; tears spilling down her cheeks as she ranted and raved about his refusal to respect her or her boundaries. In his eyes she was being ridiculous and overly dramatic; what kind of sane and rational person is that attached to a cheap hoodie that looked as if she picked it out of a dumpster? She hadn’t bothered to explain; he would never understand and definitely would never try. And she hadn’t wanted to share those intimate details; tales of her real and her immense heartache and guilt over the choices she made just made things far too personal. She was just there for the job after all; not make genuine bonds and actually go through with the wedding. Admittedly, she had enjoyed how he made her feel when he wasn’t being a complete asshole; loved and wanted and cherished. It had been so long since she’d had a man gaze at her in adoration; it was flattering and ego boosting and it did wonders to mend some of her shattered confidence. But there was no way she could ever TRULY care for him. She’d only ever loved one man in her life; with everything she was and everything she had. And she’d wounded him deeply and saddled herself with a lifetime of regret.

Moving on is impossible. Even with the most honourable and respectful of men. After all, how do you love a person when your heart still firmly rests in the hands of someone else?

Her heart is heavy as she slips into the hoodie; a mixture of anticipation and fear co-mingling with the guilt and regret that’s been burdening her for four and a half years. While she’s relieved he agreed to the job and both anxious and excited to see him again, there’s genuine fear gnawing at both stomach and nerves. She worries about how deep the damage may still run; how ferociously he may be clinging to all that hurt and anger. Nik had always kept her informed of how he was doing during the first year; searching endlessly and aimlessly for her, struggling to maintain his sobriety, one moment filled with rage and hate and the other with heartache and loneliness.

She wouldn’t blame him; if -upon seeing her- he changed his mind about the job and turned his back on both her and Millie. She had wounded him deeply; fleeing without explanation and leaving nothing but random articles of clothing, her recently factory-reset cell phone, and an apology hastily scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. Nothing more than a simple and pathetic “I’m sorry”; placed in the middle of the kitchen table and propped up by her favourite mug. It seemed silly; leaving something so trivial behind. But in the back of her mind she’d hoped it would give him some kind of solace; having something that she’d loved and had brought her so much joy. Perhaps he’d even see it as something much deeper; both a reassurance that her absence wouldn’t be permanent, and a promise that she’d one day return to that cup. And to him.

Drawing the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands, she lifts them to her face and inhales deeply. While his scent may no longer cling to the fabric, if she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she can still remember it. Familiar and comforting, it fills her with a sense of peace and contentment; allowing her to immerse herself in the memories of those much happier, easier times. It’s the smell of home; of safety and security and love. A reminder of the last time she’d ever been truly happy. When she’d been taught what love…REAL LOVE…was all about it. It was patience and it was sacrifice and it was choosing to be together even when all the cards were stacked against them. It was taking the bad along with the good and learning more about yourself than the person you’re with. Tyler had shown her that she was still worthy of love and being loved in return; taking all her broken pieces and every so slowly and tenderly putting them back together. Mark hadn’t destroyed her, he’d simply damaged her. And another man was ready, willing, and able to help her out of that deep, dark hole she’d been tossed into. And when he wasn’t able to, he just climbed down into that hole with her. Loving her when she wasn’t capable of loving herself.

She misses that. That level of adoration. Trust. Acceptance.

Most of all, she misses HIM.

******

A brisk knock comes to the door, followed by Abuela’s voice; soft and full of concern. “Esme? Are you awake?”

She wishes she was; wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and bury herself under a mountain of blankets and stay there forever. She’s physically and mentally exhausted and the ache is intense; her heart heavy and weary as she relives both those happier times and the moment she’d thrown her entire life away. There’d been no other choice; he hadn’t deserved to be dragged into the mess with The High Table and she knew she had to do whatever it took to keep him safe. Even if it meant breaking both their hearts in the process

It hasn’t been easy; attempting to go on with life without him. And at times she still grieves the tremendous loss; torturing herself with thoughts of ‘what if’ and daydreaming about what their life would have been like had everything worked out for the best. It’s an agony she wouldn’t wish on her own worst enemy; to love someone to the very depths of your soul yet be forced to cut them loose. And then spend the rest of your days missing them terribly and constantly wondering about ‘ what could have been’.

“Esme?” Abuela again, her knock more insistent. “Honey, you CAN’T stay holed up in there forever. I know you’re going through it right now and it seems like there’s no end in sight, but you’ve got to at least TRY and function. You’re not sleeping…you’re not eating properly…you’re…”

“I’m not hungry. I just need some time. Alone. Just a little bit of time.”

“You didn’t eat breakfast and you went back to bed the second Millie went downstairs to hang out at the front desk with Charon. Have you been sleeping all this time? It is well after noon hour and…”

Had she really been hiding for that long? Locked away with her memories and her guilt and regret? Had she even fallen back asleep? It’s all so hazy; every moment that’s passed since fleeing her home in the middle of the night is a complete blur. She had expected the news of Tyler agreeing to take the job would brighten her spirits; fill her with hope and optimism and a newfound assurance that everything was going to be okay. But the lingering trepidation has now shifted focus; switching from the desperate need to ensure Millie’s safety to wanting to keep her own heart intact. She had lied the night before; when she told Nik she could handle Tyler having another woman in his life. That she’d be able to cope if all they could manage was being friends and amicably co-parenting their daughter. The truth is that she’ll be devastated; torn apart seeing him in love with someone else and watching them with the adoration and affection that had once been solely reserved for her.

It makes her physically nauseous to even THINK about it. The stress and the fear and the heartache finally catch up to her and she buries her face in her hands and openly sobs. She hates herself for what she’s done; not only hurting the only man she’s ever loved, but putting their daughter’s life at risk. The baby that she so desperately wanted but has kept from him for four years; her own pride and selfishness and fear harming them both. And maybe it’s her punishment for making such horrible mistakes; forced to watch him as he creates a life with someone other than her.

She hears neither the door clicking open nor Abuela’s footfalls as she enters the room, yet suddenly finds herself wrapped in the woman’s strong, motherly embrace. She has been a godsend since the job started; working under the guise of being Millie’s nanny while not only keeping a close eye on both mother and child, but on Alessio’s behaviour and the comings and goings of his family. At a remarkably spry and fierce, sixty-five, Abuela -as she’d told Millie to call her- remains a legend among those in the ‘circle’; long ago given the moniker ‘the death dealer’’ for her lucrative mercenary and weapon trafficking businesses. Highly educated and well-spoken, she personifies ‘never judge a book by its cover’; conning people with an initially meek and mild persona and then quickly becoming their worst nightmare. Tall and beautiful even as she ages; with warm, dark eyes and an inviting smile and a soft, demure smile. But she’s not to be disrespected or underestimated. There were very valid and admirable reasons why she excelled in a world dominated by testosterone.

“Talk to me,” Abuela encourages as she pulls away; smoothing Esme’s unkempt hair from her face and then cradling her face in her palms. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“It’s just too much. It’s just all too much.”

“What is? Take a breath and tell me. What’s too much?”

“Everything. Five years ago, two nights ago…” She struggles to draw breath. “...just…everything! I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so bad and I don’t know how to fix it. First Tyler, now Millie. I screwed things up with him and now I’ve royally messed things up as a mom and…”

“That’s bullshit. Utter bullshit. You did no such thing. Millie is fine. She’s settled nicely, she’s almost back to being her normal self. In a couple of days, she won’t even think about what happened. It won’t even bother her anymore. And you know why? Because her mother was right there with her. Through all the tears and the tantrums and the nightmares. That’s what she’ll remember. That you never left her side.”

“I never should have taken the risk. Not with her involved. I know the job. I know how crazy and unpredictable it can be. How quickly things can go wrong. And I never…ever…should have dragged her into that. Knowing the possibilities. I never…”

“You had no reason to believe things that would go THAT bad. None of us did. I know I didn’t see it coming. And I’ve been in the game a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

“No mother in their right mind would have gotten their kid mixed up in this shit. What kind of parent would do that? Get back into this life? When they have someone dependent on them? She’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She never should have been put in harm’s way. And I’m the one who put her there!”

“All you’ve ever done is love that little girl. Devote your entire life to her. Your entire BEING. You didn’t intentionally put her in danger. There is no way you could have known how bad things were going to go. Now when it had all been going so well. For months! Esme…” Abuela uses her thumbs to swipe at the younger woman’s tears. “...none of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you were doing everything RIGHT. Things went sideways. It happens. You should know that by now.”

“But Millie. I never…”

“Millie is tough. Like her momma. You’re her entire world. The centre of her little universe. Do you think she thinks any less of you because of what happened? That she blames you? All that mattered to her was that momma was there through the entire thing. Keeping her safe. That’s all.”

“I don’t want her growing up to hate me. I don’t want her thinking…years from now…that I put her in danger. Because I would never do that. Not intentionally. All I’ve ever wanted was to protect. Even when she was still in my belly. Keeping her safe was my priority. And now…”

“And now you’ve taken the proper steps to get her the hell out of New York and to somewhere safe. WITH someone safe. And it’ll do you both a world of good; being far away from this shit show. Now….” She loops Esme’s hair behind her ears, then once more cups her cheeks in her palms. “...you’re no good to that little one of yours if you don’t take care of yourself. And that includes eating. You need to…’

“I’m really not hungry. I….”

“No nonsense from you. No more bullshit. You need to keep your strength. For Millie AND for yourself.”

She allows herself to be guided from the bedroom room and out into the living area. Abuela’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, keeping her tightly pressed into her side. It’s attentive and caring. Motherly. The treatment she’d so desperately longed for from her own flesh and blood as a child and beyond. And it’s filled a void that she never realized she had; repairing those final pieces of the wounded little girl and teenager that had never felt wanted or loved. Old, previously gaping wounds that nearly healed; no longer needing reassurance or acceptance from her own blood when she’s surrounded by her ‘adoptive’ family.

And Millie, of course. With those brilliant blue eyes and cheeky grin and infectious giggle. So full of brightness and love and wonder.

“I took the liberty.” Abuela nods down at the coffee table; its surface filled with various cold beverages and a wide variety of Mexican food. “All your favourites. Nothing like a little comfort food to get things back on the right track.”

“I don’t know how much I can eat,” Esme laments, and rubs her stomach in slow, smooth circles. “I’m not exactly in the best shape. My nerves are shot. Everything’s just piling up and piling up. And when I think about how I’m going to come face to face with him in less than twenty-four hours…”

“Just try your best. Believe me, you’ll feel a lot better with at least something in you. You can’t pour from an empty cup, Esme. You’re going to burn yourself out; letting your mind run rampant like that. So just sit…” With a hand on the small of the younger woman’s back, she leads her to the couch and encourages her to take a seat. “...and try and relax and get at least a little bit of food.”

“Millie…” Worry creases her forehead as she furtively glances around the suite. “....where….?”

“Grandpa Winston took her for lunch on the rooftop terrace. And told her he has some flowers that are in dire need of her attention.”

“Millie and her green thumb,” Esme smiles and accepts a cutlery and a plate of food. “Not even four and a half and she can grow anything, it seems. I can’t even keep a simple house plant alive and she’s out in the backyard watering her massive strawberry and tomato plants. She always tells me it’s because she talks and sings to them. Always says, ‘momma, you have to baby them. You have to chat and sing!’ I think she’s just damn lucky.”

“She’s certainly got a knack for nurturing things. Actually, she has a knack for quite a lot, doesn’t she? If anyone ever told me that a four-year-old could draw as good as she does…”

“Her dad’s quite the artist. It’s his secret talent. I never would have expected it in a million years. And then he told me about his childhood and how he loved to draw and how his mom really supported it. She was his biggest fan. His dad…” She chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip; eyes downcast she uses her fork to move food around her plate. “...well let’s just say he didn’t deserve that title. Dad.”

“Not a Father of the Year award finalist?”

“Not in the slightest. He was a horrible person. First to Tyler’s mom, then to Tyler. He had it pretty rough. His dad was a monster. And that’s putting it lightly. He used to worry about being just like him. Whenever we’d talk about kids and if we could see ourselves having any. He’d always tell me that he was scared. Of turning into his dad. And that was the last thing he wanted.”

“And would you say?”

“That it could never happen. That he was nowhere close to being like his father. I understood though; why he felt that way. I just tried to do my best to convince him he wasn’t the monster he thought he was.”

“Because of what happened with his son?”

Esme glances up. “How’d you…?”

“Information is easy to get. If you know where to look and who to ask. I never hired someone without thoroughly researching them. And I taught Nik to do the same.”

“Tyler made a mistake. He was scared and emotionally vulnerable and weak. He admitted that. And everything fell apart after his son died. His marriage, his military career. His sobriety. He was in a pretty dark place. When I met him.”

“Seems like you got him out of it.”

“We got EACH OTHER out of it. I wasn’t in the best shape, either. Between my own marriage disintegrating and the problems with The High Table. And then Dhaka…”

“That was…messy.”

“That’s putting it lightly. Everything that could go wrong, did.”

“Other than that first five days.”

A blush creeps into her cheeks. “You know about THAT, too?”

“Oh, honey. I know about everything. Word travels. And it’s not hard to put two and two together. A woman doesn’t just decide to give up her entire life for no reason. It’s obvious something happened. To make you stick around. Both on that bridge and off it.”

“It wasn’t the right place. Or the right time. But it happened. And neither of us regretted it. Or at least we didn’t five years ago. I know I don’t. He’s still the best thing that ever happened to me. He was the first person that ever made me feel safe and protected. Who I could just be myself with. And he gave me Millie. We created this amazing little human together. No way I could EVER regret that.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t regret meeting you. Or how things went down between you. If you were to ask him, I’m sure he’d say that was the best ten months of his life. You saved him. In every way a person can be saved.”

“And then I turned around and hurt him. He deserved so much better; than how I ended things. He deserved so much better than ME. And I don't know how to make up for it. I don’t know what to say to him. Somehow ‘sorry’ just doesn’t seem to cut it, you know?”

“Just tell him the truth. Tell him about your involvement with The High Table and the threats they made and that you had no other choice. You did what you did to PROTECT him. You said it yourself; he never would have survived their onslaught.”

“He would have fought back. No hesitation. When he told me that he’d do anything for me…anything he had to keep me safe…he meant it. HE SHOWED it. In Dhaka. We barely knew each other and he was more than willing to sacrifice himself so I’d get out of there alive. There’s no way he would have just let them walk in and take me. He wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. And I never would have forgiven myself; if something happened to him.”

“Then tell him that. Tell him ALL of it. It isn’t just black and white, Esme. There are a lot of shades of grey. But once you explain, he’ll understand. That it WAS for the best. And that it wasn’t a decision you wanted to make,”

“I never wanted to go. And I didn’t leave because I didn’t love him. I left because I did.”

“Make sure you tell him that too. And maybe he won’t understand right away…right in the moment…but once you give him a chance to sit back and let everything sink in? He’ll realize you only had his best interests at heart. You were protecting him. In the same way he would have protected you.”

“He may understand THAT, but what about Millie? How do I explain HER? I kept her from him. For four years! For the first eight months, I didn’t have a choice. I had to protect BOTH of them. But what about after? I had so many chances to reach out to him. To let him know about her.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. I was worried that he hated me enough to totally turn his back on her. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. Him rejecting her. My baby. OUR baby. I realize now how stupid I was. For ever thinking that. Because I know his heart. He’s a good man, AB. A really good man. And he wanted to be a dad again. He was just afraid. There’s no way he would have closed the door on her. Pretended that she didn’t exist.”

“And you think he would do that now? Esme, he’s still that same man. The one you fell in love with. The one you STILL love. I see it in your eyes and I hear it in your voice. It’s all still there, isn’t it.”

“I never got over him. I don’t think I ever will. And I know he’s moved on and it’s killing me inside; thinking about him with someone else. I tried convincing myself that I’d be okay with it; if all we could manage was co-parenting Millie. But the truth is, I don’t think I can do it. See him with another woman. Even if it is what I deserve.”

“And these are things you need to tell him. If there was ever a time to be completely honest, this is it. As soon as you can, you need to sit him down and tell him everything you’ve told me. It’s what he deserves, don’t you think?”

She nods.

“He’s going to be angry and hurt and he’s likely going to lash out. He’s been holding onto all of that for years. And just like you have things that you need to talk about, so does he. Once he��s gotten that anger out, he WILL listen. Because there was a time he loved you very much. Where he would have done anything for you. And I’m pretty sure some of those feelings still exist. If not all of them.”

“But if he hates me…”

“I doubt he hates you. I don’t think he could EVER hate you. I’ve met Tyler. Briefly. When he first started working for Nik. And I could see it in his eyes; all that hurt he was carrying around. But you know what else I saw? Humanity. Lingering right there under the surface. Someone that could still feel. That was still living. Even if he didn’t realize it.”

“That’s what I saw too. When we met. He wasn’t like everyone else on the job. He was quiet and thoughtful. He had a gentleness to him. And that’s what drew me in. The fact he was different. And when we were in Dhaka, I got to see all these different sides to him. That he never let anyone else see. And that was the man I fell in love with. The one that cried to me about his son and the mistakes that he’d made. The one who wanted to kill my ex-husband for doing the things he did to me. The one who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing on earth.”

“That’s the man you still love.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t stop. I know I should. But I just can’t.”

“There’s no time limit. On when it’s appropriate to get over someone. Sometimes you never do. Sometimes you find that one person that you love more than you ever thought you could love someone. And then you lose them. Unfortunately. I never got over my husband. I still love him. I still miss him. And it’s been twenty years.”

“How did you do it? Move on? How did you get over him?”

“I didn’t. And just because my body is carrying on, it doesn’t mean my heart is. There will never be another. I don’t want there to be. And something tells me you don’t want that either.”

“I don’t,” Esme admits. “I don’t want anyone else. Just him. It’ll always be just him.”

“And that’s what you tell him. I know you’re scared; that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want the same thing. But you need to take the risk. Because if you don’t and he DOES move on with his life, you’re going to spend the rest of your life kicking yourself in the ass. Isn’t it better to find out where you stand than spend decades watching him with someone else?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. I just…” Setting her plate on the coffee table, she places her elbows on her knees and her face in her palms. “...I just didn’t think this is how it would go. Seeing him again. Telling him about Millie. This is not what I planned for. At all.”

“But this is where we’re at. This is what’s happening. Through no fault of your own. And in twenty-four hours, he’s going to be standing right in front of you. And as scared as you are, I know there’s a part of you that’s excited. About seeing him again.”

“Of course I’m excited. I’ve only spent nearly five years thinking about him. Worrying about him. Missing him. I WANT to see him. But I’m still terrified. About how things are going to go. About what I’m going to say to him. How I’m going to explain the things I did. How I’m going to explain our baby. HIS baby.”

“When he’s here…when you’re finally face to face with him…it’ll come to you. Just speak from the heart. You can never go wrong when you do that, believe me.”

Tears threaten; lower lip and chin wobbling as she attempts to rein in her emotions. “What have I done, AB? What kind of mess have I made? How did this happen? How did it all go so wrong? We were so happy. We were happy and we were planning a future and it just went so bad. We deserved a chance. At a normal life. We paid our dues and made our amends. Wasn’t it enough?”

“Sometimes things don’t go the way we want them to. There’s no reason. No explanation. They just don’t. But honey, you have the chance. To set things right. To get back to where you were. And it’s scary as hell; having to own up to what you’ve done. But that man deserves to hear it, don’t you think?”

“He deserved that a long time ago.”

“Love is a hell of a thing. There’s times it's wonderful and it’s beautiful and there’s times it’s maddening and terrifying. But nine times out of ten? It’s more than worth it. And you’ll never know what he’s feeling if you DON’T face him. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering what he would have said?”

“Of course not. Five years has been way too long as it is.”

“He’s not going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you went through in Dhaka. Not after you gave up your life for him. And especially not after he meets that little girl. He’s going to take one look at her and fall madly and deeply in love.”

“I hope so. Because she’s everything that’s perfect and beautiful inside both of us.”

“Even if she does look exactly like him.”

Esme manages a laugh, then uses the backs of her hands to brush wayward tears from her cheeks. “She’s definitely his Mini Me. From head to toe. You know how many times I’ve been asked if I’m her nanny? When we’re out together? There’s not a stitch of me in her. She is ALL dad.”

“I don’t know about that. She’s a strong little thing. Resilient as hell. And stubborn…”

“That’s him too. The stubborn thing. He is the most stubborn human being I have ever met.”

“Other than when you look in the mirror, you mean? Because in case you haven’t been told, you have got to be the most pigheaded person on the planet. I’ve never seen anyone that gets knocked down and keeps getting back up quite like you do.”

“What’s the saying? It’s the little ones you have to watch out for? They’re the ones you least expect?”

“I always say that great things come in small packages. Millie, her mom. Look at everything you’ve been through. Not just here in New York, either. Dhaka, the trouble with The High Table. All the things that could have…SHOULD HAVE…broken you? You beat them. On your own.”

“I had help. In Dhaka. I wouldn’t have survived. If Tyler hadn't been there. If he hadn’t been so willing to sacrifice himself for Ovi and I. He could have left us. He could have just abandoned us and worried about himself. But he didn’t. He was willing to die for us, AB. No questions asked.”

“If he was willing to do that then, think about what he’ll be willing to do for you now. After the year you spent together. After loving one another. After making a baby together. Do you really think he’ll feel nothing? When he sees you?”

“I don’t know what he’ll feel. Good OR bad. I want it to be good. I’d give anything for it to be good.”

“Give him a chance. Even if he doesn’t react the way you want at first…even if he’s angry as hell…give that to him. He’ll come around. I don’t doubt it. In the slightest. He’s a smart man. Smarter than anyone gives him credit for.”

“I always thought so too. That everyone underestimated him. That he underestimated himself. I can’t wait to see him.” Tears threaten once again. “It’s all I’ve wanted. For almost five years. Just to see him. To hear his voice. Just be in the same room with him again.”

“Soon.“Very soon.”

“I just hope he wants the same thing. Who knows; maybe he’s been waiting for this too. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, do you? That maybe he feels the same way? That maybe he’s missed me too? That maybe he still loves me?”

“Oh sweetheart…” Leaning forward in her seat, Abuela reaches across the coffee table; gently cradling the younger woman’s cheek in her palm. “...I don’t that it’s too much to ask at all”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake x OFC

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cryptidsurveys · 4 months ago

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Monday, July 29th, 2024.

1~ What quality do you value most highly in others? Some form or variation of empathy. Those who are understanding, considerate, nuanced, capable of putting themselves in someone else's shoes or seeing something from multiple points of view.

2~ Are you more aggressive or mellow? I have mellowed out a lot over the last year or so. I'm a rather mellow driver. I'm very mellow at the animal shelter…in fact, I'm probably too mellow. People will routinely express annoyance over various situations, and sometimes I'm like, "that's fair, I can see that;" but other times, I just don't understand what all the fuss is about. I've been there for a little over a year now, so I would consider myself fairly integrated into the way of things, but there are times when I wonder…am I just extremely good-natured or am I ignorant of why this is such a big deal? Sometimes I feel like I have to feign annoyance in order to fit in. I guess I'm just really leaning into my increasingly Type B personality.

I think the only time I really even approach aggression - or, more accurately, passion/assertiveness - would be around my dad. He's the only person with whom I feel comfortable fully expressing myelf. Oh, and I am more animated with my therapist as well, but again, I think "aggressive" would be too strong of a word. It's not that I'm never aggressive; it's just that it's become such a rare thing and it hardly ever surpasses irritation, disappointment, etc. A momentary "God fvcking damn it!" and then back to business as usual.

3~ Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My dad.

4~ Do you take any vitamins or medication? I don't take any vitamins or prescription medication, but I do take OTC migraine medication.

5~ Do you want to grow old with someone? Romantically speaking? It's a lovely thought, it's definitely something I wish for, but I don't know if it'll ever happen. I'm still having a difficult time genuinely connecting with other people. It's just so hard to trust; it feels easier and safer keeping everyone at a distance.

6~ Do you treat others better or worse than yourself and why? I'm actually not sure. I am trying to treat myself better in general, though. You know, that whole concept of "you can't hate yourself into a version you can love."

7~ What sound is annoying you right now? The swamp cooler is kind of loud, but I wouldn't say it's on the level of annoyance. The only time it really gets to me - assuming I don't just sort of block it out - is when I'm trying to sleep.

8~ Where was your last vacation to? I haven't been on a proper vacation in years.

9~ Where was your last car ride to? Like, as a passenger? It was on Friday evening, when my dad and I went to that fundraising dinner for the animal shelter. The last time I drove was earlier today, though - home from the shelter. I was there from about 7am-12pm. I was there all day yesterday, too - from 7am-5pm. Full days are getting easier!

10~ Where did you last walk to? I don't remember the last time I walked anywhere in particular…or even just went on a casual stroll.

11~ What gives you a peaceful feeling? Driving home after a long day and unwinding with some classical music. Listening to historical, philosophical, or space-related YT videos while I fall asleep. Making art. Crickets chirping in the night. Spending time out in nature. Cloudy, rainy, snowy, or otherwise "gloomy" weather. Cuddling with my kitties. Etc.

12~ Are you a light sleeper? I guess I'm somewhere in the middle. I won't wake up over any little noise or disturbance, but I'm not hard to wake up if need-be.

13~ When you sleep next to someone who usually falls asleep first? It just depends.

14~ How many people have a piece of your heart? I would say three people have significant pieces of my heart, with numerous others having random small bits of it.

15~ What do your salt and pepper shakers look like? I don't have salt/pepper shakers.

16~ When was the last time you hurt yourself? I don't recall.

17~ Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country? The country.

18~ Have you ever built something? Nothing major, but small things, sure.

19~ Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user? I guess it's a balance. I don't think I fall heavily to one side or the other.

20~ Do you take naps? Occasionally. I don't like to take them, but I will if I really have to.

21~ Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute? I don't typically buy gifts for the holidays. I bought a few things for my mom last year because we've been back in touch, but otherwise, I just…don't.

22~ Do you laugh when there is no joke and dance when there is no music? Hmm.

23~ If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say? Aside from my dad or my therapist, I think I'd be scared to ask. I mean, many of the people I know probably think good things, but…idk, it's kind of like mind-reading in the sense that ignorance is bliss. I would really just rather not hear their assessment of me.

24~ What is the dirtiest habit you can think of? Idk.

25~ Do you ever need ‘quiet time’? Yeah. I need about an equal amount of quiet time and social time. Too much of one or the other will leave me feeling out of sorts.

26~ Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for the child to outlive their parent? I think a lot depends on the circumstances.

27~ What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift? Idk.

28~ What is one selfish thing you tend to do? Prioritize myself and my feelings. <- This. Like, I know that's not necessarily selfishness by itself, but sometimes I cross the spectrum into selfish territory.

29~ What kinds of people do you find intimidating? I find everyone intimidating.

30~ Out of everyone you know who has the most unique personality? I swear to God, I feel like I'm living in an RPG or simulation because everyone I know has some sort of stereotypical/archetypal personality and it fvcking WEIRDS ME OUT. I also feel like everyone is running scripts, like they just say the same expected things all the time. No one ever says anything that just comes out of the blue and really surprises me. It's always like, yeah, you WOULD say that. ;D Okay, maybe it's not that bad, I do know some people who don't completely fit a mold, but it's still weird…

31~ When do you do your best thinking? Who even knows.

32~ What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to? Having sick cats put to sleep.

33~ Have you ever written a letter to a soldier? Maybe in school…I'm not sure. It just sounds vaguely familiar, like something I might have done at some point.

34~ What does your favorite coffee mug look like? It's just a regular mug with a picture of a calico kitty on it and it says "Meowy Christmas."

35~ What age do you think it is most difficult to be? I've had such an unconventional life that I feel like I can really only speak for myself, but even then…it's hard to say. Most of it has been difficult.

36~ Do you think you could handle a day in jail? A single day? Yeah. I could probably handle a lot of things for a single day.

37~ Who is the most overbearing person you know? Hmmm.

38~ Have you ever been on a trampoline? Yeah.

39~ What do you use batteries for the most often? I think the only things I use that require batteries are my keyboard and mouse, but I don't have to change them very often.

40~ Would you prefer to wrap your own presents or have them all gift wrapped? Wrap my own.

#survey #surveys #personal survey #random survey #survey blog

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theclearblue · 10 months ago

Note

For the ship ask : ZoSan - Zoro & Sanji and MobRei - Mob (aged up) & Reigen and SatoSugu - Gojo and Getou.... Thx

Thank you for sending this is in!!

Zosan

Ship it

Fun fact I was pretty against this ship at the beginning when I first started watching (now it's my fave op ship lmao). I think the turning point for me was maybe Water 7/Enies Lobby when they really start working together, and Zoro worries about Sanji on the sea train. But when it became my favorite was probably the Nothing Happened scene and also when Kuma is chasing the strawhats in Sabaody. Just the way they clearly care so much for each other and their dreams where Zoro first protects Sanji in Thriller Bark, and then Sanji is worried enough about Zoro in Sabaody to protect him over Nami??? Yeaaaahhhh I started falling down the Zosan well pretty deep after that lmao

I think what makes Zosan fun is that they fight ALL the time but it's like...play fighting lmao?? If you've ever had cats where they just bat at each other and wrestle but they don't really hurt each other, it's all in good fun and then they snuggle up to each other? That's the Zosan dynamic to me lmaooo. But also under that I think they trust and respect each other more than anyone, both in a fight but also with what they view as the worst parts of themselves. Lots of potential with them I think (also VERY interested to see how the Wano oath will come back around because it will...)

Hmm I think sometimes when people write Zosan they either lean too much into domestic sappy lovers or just straight up toxic lmao. They are the pinnacle of cranky old married couple so when they don't make fun of each other anymore or playfight well..that's not Zosan lol, but then sometimes people go way to far the other way where they don't like each other at all and scream at each other and miscommunicate and that's just not any fun either, there's a balance.

MobRei

Don't Ship It

Usually I don't like an aged up ship unless you're aging up both characters, it's hard for me to get past an age gap that big because it colors so much of the dynamic. Even aging them up I think I couldn't stop imagining Reigen as the cringefail older brother/mentor type of figure to Mob.

Hmm honestly maybe aging Reigen down to Mob's age might be ok? As like a childhood friends kind of thing instead? I still don't think I would see that as romantic though.

Hmmm I think this one just isn't for me sorry

Satosugu

Ship it

God, what doesn't make me ship it? I know Ij ust made a post yesterday where I was like "You could interpret them as brothers!" and like, you COULD but this feels like the most obvious romantic subtext of all time with every scene they have. But I started shipping them when I read Hidden Inventory/Premature Death, and then the ship became really solidified with a JJK 0 reread and with the Gojo sealing scene. Gay disasters of all time.

I've talked about this a bit before but just the way that there is nobody else for them, nobody will understand Gojo like Geto does and vice versa. They are a pair, until they suddenly aren't, and neither really know how to navigate that. I think they embody a lot of the core themes of JJK really well, about love and death and corruption and loneliness. I think there are just a lot of different avenues to explore them, from pre HI arc to Geto's descent to the 10 years in between to JJK 0 and to Shibuya. They really do it all lmao, and of course, I am tragedy enjoyer first and foremost and they deliver.

Geto gets woobified waaaayyy too much by satosugu lovers. He is undeniably a victim under the jujutsu system and his struggles are very painful and even sympathetic, but I think some satosugu fans really erase his flaws way too much and end up blaming Gojo for everything? Which I think is wildly unfair.

#thank you for the ask! <3 #asks #jjk #mp100 #one piece

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bloodywolfwings · 11 months ago

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It's weird to think the year is almost over. I remember it beginning like it was last week. And yet it feels like so much has changed. I became a legal adult, I started work experience and I joined a new fandom that whilst chaotic at times and makes me worry for some at other times, is still one I love being in.

I wish I could've drawn something for the end of the year but I'm just going to ramble about Murder Drones instead because it became my nicotine.

I love Murder Drones, I joined the fandom back in late August of this year (if I remember correctly, Dead End was 2 weeks old).

I still remember how I got into it, it was because of a YouTuber call Sarcastic Chorus. I hadn't even heard of Murder Drones till he started to review it and I'll be honest, even though he did his first review of it back June, I still didn't watch the show proper till August.

Did this have an affect on my viewing experience when I watched it? Yes, yes it did. I'll be honest, I was rather indifferent to V because I already knew what happened in ep 6. Keep in mind that I didn't hate her, I just didn't care about her at the time, which is worse (this hurts to write now because I do care about her, I'd like to thank the fandom for helping me to see her as the cool and traumatised bad bitch that she is.)

Anyways, back on track, I remember after initially watching it I watched it again and again. Then I immediately went to go find fan content because I wanted more and wanted to see what the fans made (this resulted in my finding a particularly va channel that I won't be naming for reasons). This led to me going to find the MD fandom here on tumblr. That was want experience.

I remember when Matpat's MD film theory came out and people started to shit on it, it was fun to witness :3

Overall, joining this fandom was an awesome experience and got to see so many fun, colourful and beautiful pieces of art, fun and still headcannons and interesting theories that pointed out details that I didn't notice before. I love this fandom.

Let's see what 2024 will bring and let's all try and not breakdown when episode 7 and 8 come out. Who am I kidding, we're probably going to cry so let's try and be there for one another when it comes out because it's going to hit hard if the trailer suggest anything.

#murder drones #long post #rambles #happy new year #Ep 7 and 8 are going to kill us

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mzjosef · 2 years ago

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when i'm talking to anyone my eyes dart all over the place as i think so i'll go with that. but usually i look into peoples eyes when they're talking, just in general.

someone i was a witness for lost a civil court case because the judge believed a total liar and loser of a person that couldn't even prove they were in the right. this was years ago, lol

jesus shitting christ this is dark. i probably wouldn't call anybody because i dont need my possibly last moment to be traumatizing for somebody.

are you good, dude? i'd tell my family and friends and then tell my job and quit, then challenge myself to finish my video game project in 1 month

can't have love without trust, brother

yeah i save the dog. fuck my boss. and not even in this context, just, fuck my boss

i'd rather be hurt by the one i trust, because it meant there was a very good reason for it and we're both better off, probably.

if it was my best friend i'd be extremely concerned about his marriage. reject him of course. if it was a female friend i think it would be worth exploring!

no, she was very sick and became a not very nice person in her old age.

yes. i constantly aspire to be the best friend i could be and i would want a type of friend like that too.

its not for everyone, but for me one of my primary "love languages" is sex and physical touch. but i couldn't have sex without love.

i wouldn't offer my job unless i had a way to supplement my own income/had another job lined up, but i'd definitely do what i could to persuade them not to fire my friend.

it was a very difficult conversation and it ultimately ended the relationship.

i've never told someone that i do not love them. telling someone you love them is pretty embarrassing though if it's weird or they don't feel the same way, so that might be harder just due to fear of rejection. :x

hardest would be giving up my eye sight. i think about this sometimes. it'd be a nightmare.

i told my cat fiona.

nothing. i wouldn't change a thing in the last month, as difficult as it's been.

i have a friend that's insane and carries at least 4 - 7 knives on his person at any given moment, and sometimes a firearm. if i was stuck with anyone in a foxhole i'd want it to be him.

no, because i don't know how to do CPR and i'd end up killing them. i'm not a medical professional, next question

THERE'S NO NUMBER 20

UHH WOULD YOU RATHER FIGHT 100 SMALL DUCKS OR 1 BIG GOOSE shut up dude

in some ways yeah. when i was young i was always ahead of the curve in terms of tech, my ideas on society, my political views... now that i'm old not much has changed there and now i'm old fashioned.

all the time, i don't expect shit. i'm just some asshole

listen. love is hard and with it comes pain sometimes. but i need love. pain be damned.

i wish this survey would end i think it was a mistake

Deep Questions

1. What is more difficult for you, looking into someones eyes when you are telling someone how you feel, or looking into someones eyes when they are telling you how they feel?

2. Think of the last time you were REALLY angry. WHY were you angry? Do you still feel the same way?

3. You are on a flight from Honolulu to Chicago non-stop. There is a fire in the back of the plane. You have enough time to make ONE phone call. Who do you call? What do you tell them?

4. You are at the doctor’s office and he has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? What do you do with your remaining days? Would you be afraid?

5. You can have one of the following two things. Which do you choose? Why? Love and Trust.

6. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late even once more, you are fired. Do you take the time to save the dogs life? Why or Why not?

7. Would you rather be hurt by the one you trust the most or the one you love the most?

8. Your best friend confesses that he/she has feelings for you more than just friendship. He/she is falling in love with you. What do you (or did you) do/say?

9. Think of the last person who you know that died. You have the chance to give them 1 hour of life back, but you have to give up one year of yours. Do you do it? Why or Why not?

10. Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend?

11. Does love = sex?

12.Your boss tells your coworker that they have to let them go because of work shortage, and they are the newest employee. You have been there much longer. Your coworker has a family to support and no other means of income. Do you go to your boss and offer to leave the company? Why or Why not?

13.When was the last time you told someone HONESTLY how you felt regardless of how difficult it was for you to say? Who was it? What did you have to tell the person?

14. What would be (or what was) harder for you to tell a member of the opposite sex, you love them or that you do not love them back?

15. What do you think would be the hardest thing for you to give up? Why would it be hard to lose?

16. Excluding romantic love, when was the last time you told someone you loved them. Who were they to you?

17. If there was one moment and one time in the last month what would you change and why?

18.Imagine it is a dark night, you are alone, it is raining outside, you hear someone walking around outside your window. WHO do you wish was there with you?

19. Would you give a homeless person CPR if they were dying? Why or Why not?

21.You are holding onto your grandmother’s hand and the hand of a newborn that you do not know as they hang over the edge of a cliff. You have to let one go to save the other. Who do you let fall to their death? What was your rationale for making the decision?

22. Are you old fashioned?

23. When was the last time you were nice to someone and did NOT expect anything in return for it?

24.Which would you choose, true love with a guarantee of a broken heart, or never loved at all? Why?

25.If you could do anything or wish anything, what would it be?

#survey #sorry its long #kinda boring too #im a boring person

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fire-fist-donut-man · 7 days ago

Text

|| A/N; This is a work in progress but it's something I've been working on for a while. This is only the first chapter. Honestly, I wrote this out of pure boredom. I have everything mapped out for the rest of the chapter 2, 3, and 4. ||

-Writing time; 2 hours writing, 6 hours planning total-

-Word Count; 1,294-

-Reading Time; ~5-7 minutes-

-Written on 11/18/2024-

The neighborhood looked nice in the pictures. A wide balcony, nice furniture, and a lovely view of the city. It had none of that when we moved in. Instead, it was dingy, rugged, and dirty. All different types of bugs and molds litter the apartment, the neighborhood sucked, and at this point, I don't even care about the view. I was more concerned about how fast our health may decline here. I slowly sauntered around the dimly lit room; I could hear the mice in the walls and this strange type of bug I'd never seen before on the hardwood counters and tables. However, Pierce, my husband, had turned his wide, green eyes to the bugs. It was a small, caramel-colored cricket sitting on our new dingy, brown couch that came with the place. They’re probably here because of the mold, or the many dead mice we’ve seen all over the complex.

“Looks like we got some roommates, Arrow.” I could hear the happy exclamation of a thick Nevadan accent ring out across the room.

“Seems so…” I mumbled as I looked at some of the molds on the walls. Different types, most are dangerous, my blue eyes lingered on the black mold for a little longer than they should have.

“We need to call an exterminator, or someone to get rid of these… Things.” I spoke softly. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I could feel my bones screaming at me to sit down and never get back up. (my tone reflects how annoyed I felt at that moment.)

“Come on, hun. They aren't things, they're livin’ creatures.” Pierce smiled sweetly. I hate that a simple gesture like a smile could make me squeal like a middle school girl with a crush. Anything he did could.

“But that's black mold, It can be really dangerous if we breathe in too much. Not to mention it could kill us…”

“I'll get it taken care of in the morning, okay? ”Right now, we should just settle in. It's been a long flight and we're both tired. I'll look up some takeout, and we can relax on the couch and watch something.” Pierce let his body fall back onto the couch with a loud crack. The three-seater was now in half on the floor. I rushed over and grabbed his arm gently and helped him up.

“Pierce! Are you okay?!” I looked him over frantically and he simply smiled at me. He stood up and gently put his hand over mine.

“I'm just fine. Although my back really hurts now…”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I'll look it over later.” I helped him sit on the floor propped up against the now broken couch, grabbing a cyan throw pillow that was on the couch and putting it behind him. Pierce pulled his phone out and began looking at menus.

“What were you thinkin’? Italian?” I looked back at the pale brunette man. He was waiting for a response, just looking at me while I stood there.

“Yeah, that works,” I spoke worriedly. I glanced around at some of the other furniture once he turned his attention back to his phone. The furniture was worn. The stuffing was protruding through the seams and tears in the covers of the mud-colored cushions.

A knock at the door.

“Hello? Anyone home?” A sweet old voice called out. Polly was a sweet, old Asian lady with brunette hair and soft, wrinkled, pale skin like she hadn't seen sunlight in years. She looked like she could be Pierce's grandmother. Me and Pierce had met her outside when she was walking her dog hours ago when we were still moving stuff.. I slowly ride from my seat on the ground and swiftly stride towards the door.

“Yes? What do you need?”

“I just wanted to talk.” She sounded strangely upbeat for eleven at night. I tiredly opened the door, and she immediately peered behind me at the broken couch and the big cardboard boxes that were stacked on each other in small piles. She was holding a small, thin paper plate of chocolate chip cookies. The sweet aroma of freshly baked chocolate cookies was heavenly.

“You seem oddly excited for it being eleven at night…” I spoke softly, the sleeplessness starting to take its toll and make me feel like I was about to collapse. Judging by her strange look, I probably seemed dead and had the appearance of a ghost.

“Of course! I wanted to bring you these as a welcome gift. Though, it seems like you have a bit of a problem…” She vaguely gestures to Pierce who's currently sitting on the floor in front of the broken piece of junk we call a couch. The handed me the plate and I gently took them and placed them on the countertop nearby. Pierce had noticed the older woman at the door and turned to her with a bright, affable smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Lovelace! How was the walk?” His accent ringed out again and the sweet boy looked at her with bright eyes. She smiled.“Oh, it was fine. Little Lemon was beat when we got home again. She was asleep on the couch when I left.” Lemon was a small, annoying, little cocker spaniel dog. She must've been a Chihuahua in disguise with the way she barked and acted. Lemon was not friendly and bit my ankle when I first met the mutt, she seemed to be a big fan of Pierce though. It's not much of a surprise; most people are.

"Aww, she's a little angel." Pierce coos, he virtually had hearts in his eyes. I rolled my eyes, I don't get pet people. Why have something that's basically a toddler that can live for 5 to 10 years?

"I know, I love her so much." The woman paused. "I should be going now, John prefers to go to bed early lately and I'd rather not wake him. Good to meet you two, I'll make sure John meets you soon too. I think he'd love you, Pierce." Before either of us get the chance to say anything, she leaves and closes the door behind her.

"She's a sweet old lady, isn't she?" Pierce started as he switched his attention to our TV, which was currently sitting on a book with my books and a few decorations.

"She is, I just hate that she judges me so much.." I moved from the counter and sat next to him in my spot on the floor.

"Judge you? I've never seen her do that." Pierce looked away from the TV and to me with a tiny bit of confusion in his eyes and a disbelieving look. The man looks like I just told him the sky was green.

"Why do you look surprised? We just met her today." I sighed. "I don't get how you can just befriend people so suddenly, like you've known them for years..." Pierce softly chuckled and got up, he made sure the car keys were in his pocket and headed towards the door.

"It's easy, you just gotta smile and be friendly. Asking questions about them makes them want to get to know you more, it's basic psychology." I scoffed playfully.

"So the man who looks at bugs all day wants to teach me about psychology?" I got up and followed behind him as we both exited our new place and into the dirty hallway. He held my hand as we walked down the hall and called the elevator with the oddly sticky button.

"You know what I mean, doctor." He playfully rolled his eyes. "Either way, dinner's ready to get picked up." We both took a step in and he pressed the lobby button.

#original post #new to writing #Deck of shadows #I did it #i finally finished this #i take criticism

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manwalksintobar · 3 months ago

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Jail Poems // Bob Kaufman

All night the stink of rotting people, Fumes rising from pyres of live men, Fill my nose with gassy disgust, Drown my exposed eyes in tears.

Traveling God salesmen, bursting my ear drum With the dullest part of a good sexy book, Impatient for Monday and adding machines.

Yellow-eyed dogs whistling in evening.

The baby came to jail today.

One more day to hell, filled with floating glands.

The jail, a huge hollow metal cube Hanging from the moon by a silver chain. Someday Johnny Appleseed is going to chop it down.

Three long strings of light Braided into a ray.

I am apprehensive about my future; My past has turned its back on me.

Shadows I see, forming on the wall, Pictures of desires protected from my own eyes.

After spending all night constructing a dream, Morning came and blinded me with light. Now I seek among mountains of crushed eggshells For the God damned dream I never wanted.

Sitting here writing things on paper, Instead of sticking the pencil into the air.

The Battle of Monumental Failures raging, Both hoping for a good clean loss.

Now I see the night, silently overwhelming day.

Caught in imaginary webs of conscience, I weep over my acts, yet believe.

Cities should be built on one side of the street.

People who can't cast shadows Never die of freckles.

The end always comes last.

We sat at a corner table, Devouring each other word by word, Until nothing was left, repulsive skeletons.

I sit here writing, not daring to stop, For fear of seeing what's outside my head.

There, Jesus, didn't hurt a bit, did it?

I am afraid to follow my flesh over those narrow Wide hard soft female beds, but I do.

Link by link, we forged the chain. Then, discovering the end around our necks, We bugged out.

I have never seen a wild poetic loaf of bread, But if I did, I would eat it, crust and all.

From how many years away does a baby come?

Universality, duality, totality . . . .one.

The defective on the floor, mumbling, Was once a man who shouted across tables.

Come, help flatten a raindrop.

Written in San Francisco City Prison Cell 3, 1959

#poetry #Bob Kaufman

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split-regardless · 3 months ago

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I feel really lucky right this moment.

22 years old, watching YouTube on my living room TV during a thunderstorm. I'm watching a random scientific video essay about the first human head transplant (? I mean, okay. kinda dark but interesting).

Normally it's murder mysteries. I don't know why. It might (probably) be my mother. law & order, NCIS, forensic files (and every like show). For me, I mostly watch That Chapter & some of the other major ones.

Side side note (for real moment) - i think I have been noticing symptoms of OCD :> (AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH). I consider myself a pacifist. Yeah, I played Undertale. But fr fr. I am now hyper aware of sounding homicidal because I absolutely do not ever ever want to ever hurt anyone. I also got hospitalized because my ex boyfriend hit me and then called my therapist - who then only heard me screaming at him to get out - put out an involuntary hold on me. Which then turned into 9 days and ended up in an immediate ER visit (for lithium poisoning!!). I was diagnosed with Bipolar 2 (because mood disorder, duh 🤪) and then I was treated for it for the next year and a half with antipsychotics which left me with no sense of self or purpose. The reason for the hospitalization was "homicidal".

I have hurt myself physically to show myself I don't want to do that to others. This was almost a decade ago.

To think of it, I don't really enjoy the true crime format. It's just familiar. Maybe because it was playing in the background on the TV at 11pm on a random weeknight in the foothills of abq in a random day in the 2010's.

Maybe it's a warning. I never got to play outside. It was "too dangerous" outside. I never thought it was during the day. It always was at night. Maybe that's why I freak out everytime I'm next to nearly closed blinds. There is absolutely somebody right there behind this glass. 22 years old and afraid of the dark.

I have a real reason, though. After several nights of hearing noise outside my window, one time I actually looked. It was my biological father, trying to break in to the house - My view had a view of the side yard in the backyard. It was overgrown with weeds, cactus, red flying ants & a dead cherry tree. It was closed off from the main yard with vines that resembled grapes (but we were never allowed to eat them(?). - I wasn't dumb though, I waited until I heard the gate close. I peaked out when I thought I waited long enough. He was standing right next to the opening of the gate, looking at me.

I would fall asleep, alone, rehearsing the 7 escape plans I had. Step 1 was to always save my siblings. I remember pushing my ear against the door, holding my breath, so scared to make a single noise because I was trying to hear what my parents were shouting about, at 10:37pm.

My mother convinced me there was someone out to get me in every direction. She told me that you always have to have one eye on the back of your head. Always look over your shoulder, especially when you think you're being followed. If somebody is following you in the car after 3 turns, it's suspicious. I wasn't close to anybody at school, except halfway one girl who pitied me. It was hard not to think the world wasn't against me.

"girls are your enemy" my mom recited. I never thought that to be true. I never really understood or connected with that part of myself outside of Easter dresses. With 2 "girl" friends (not in the gay way) under my belt, I moved to Colorado. Imagine how confusing it was when I figured out the next "girl" friend I had, I could not stop thinking about kissing for ,,,, several several years. (It never happened, which is ,,, okay).

I lived life divided. Isolated. Fragmented. Afraid. (for a very very long time). Maybe all of those parts of me tuned in to true crime to try to study suspicious situations, so that way I wouldn't be caught.

Being (perceived) female in this selfish & deprived world is terrifying.

I've been working for a long time trying to retake this power. I'm proud to say that I have. Even though I'm laying on my couch at 2:30am writing this silly little thing with a (now) youtube video about how Disney female protagonists need to stop being "awkdorable", which is true. This era of Disney princesses are kind of disappointing. Imagine the power of a heroic femme fatale saying no. Someone who is afraid but does it always. Someone brave.

,,,,,,,,,,

I know that there are parts of me in the future (& definitely the past) that would give anything to be sitting here in this timeless mindless dumb half high moment in the place I'm proud to call home.

I've worked hard to get to right here. I'm going to enjoy it.

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stervrucht · 4 months ago

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@steddieangstyaugust Day 7: Moonlight

“Things don’t look so bad in the moonlight.”

Steve looks towards the source of the sound. His posture grows rigid against the cool metallic surface of his car. He didn’t expect to find anyone at the junkyard—much less at night.

The moon is full and bright, and it draws long black shadows over the ground. In the distance, he can see the outline of a person, drawn against the black silhouettes of busted cars and pine trees.

His life has been pretty shit lately—ever since Nancy broke up with him, and he fell out of grace with Tommy. When he can’t sleep, he drives to the junkyard and parks his car there. Smashes some things if the mood strikes, or just smokes and thinks.

“I’m sorry?”

“That's what my uncle says anyway,” the figure replies.

Steve can hear the crushing of gravel underfoot, and the dragging of metal. A few seconds later a person comes into view. Steve recognizes him from school. It’s that guy, Eddie Munson, who Tommy buys weed from every now and then. He’s wearing a leather jacket, curly dark hair reaching just past his ears, and in one hand he holds a rusty old pipe that drags over the ground as he walks.

“When you feel like shit, sit under the moon and remember how insignificant you are. Things don’t seem so bad then,” Eddie elaborates. He throws the pipe down and the metallic sound zings until it dies out.

“Not really a reassuring thought.” Steve shoots back. He doesn’t know how to feel about Eddie. He and Tommy have given him shit a few times, and Steve isn’t sure how much of a grudge that cultured within the guy.

Eddie walks over to Steve and settles into the spot next to him. The car dips and Steve winces at the sound of the chain hanging off of Eddie’s jeans softly hitting the metal exterior.

Eddie digs through one of his pockets and pulls out a pack of smokes. He holds it up to Steve, who takes one, and waits for Eddie to offer him a light.

“It isn’t?” Eddie asks with a cigarette between his lips. He motions Steve closer and cups his hand. The soft clicking of a lighter fills the air between them. When Eddie pulls his hand away, the end of their cigarettes lights orange in a colorless world.

Steve takes the cigarette from his mouth. “It’s—”

“Nihilistic?” Eddie finishes. He throws his head back and releases smoke into the bright night sky. It makes Steve think of stags in winter.

“Not the word I would have chosen, but yeah.”

“Well, here’s the thing, darling. Optimism hurts like a bitch—apathy is where it’s at. Nothing ever disappoints that way.” Eddie speaks animatedly with large hand movements. The car dips with his movements and whenever he motions his hand too fast, the tip of his cigarette lights up brightly.

“I think it’s a little too late for apathy for me,” Steve mumbles.

“Never too late.” Eddie shrugs.

They smoke in silence for a moment and Steve looks up at the moon. It’s big and bright and perfectly round. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, a break-up wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Who knows how long they still have on this planet before the moon comes crashing down on it?

Maybe Steve is turning into a nihilist by proxy.

“You’re quite the cynic aren’t you?” Steve tells him instead.

Eddie shifts and Steve hears the metal of his chain drag. “Comes with the territory.”

“The territory being…?”

“C’mon now Steve Harrington, don’t act like you’ve forgotten your cute little pet name for me.”

Steve takes an uneasy draw of smoke. “I’m not like that anymore.”

“Not to my face.”

“Listen, I’m sorry okay? I used to be a dick.”

It feels weird to admit it. Steve realizes now that Tommy and Carol brought out the worst in him. That the people he hurt—people like Eddie—didn’t deserve it. Not really. With everything he witnessed last year at the Byers Residence, Steve can probably add himself to the list of freaks. He does sleep with a nailbat under his bed after all.

Eddie smiles contently towards the sky. “Apology accepted."

They smoke in silence until their cigarettes are burned down to their stubs.

“You know what, Harrington? Maybe you’re not so bad—in the moonlight that is.” Eddie smiles at him, and in the cold white light of the moon, he looks a little softer—a little kinder maybe—than his usual gruff self. Steve feels something flutter in his chest. The barest hint of something fond.

“You should see me in daylight.” Steve quips back. The words are out of his mouth before he can consider his tone. That definitely sounded like flirting.

Eddie winks at him. “Careful, I might just take you up on that.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #my fics #steddie angst #angst #fluff #mostly fluff really #pre-slash #steddieangstyaugust #ster writes steddie

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memorymessage · 4 months ago

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thoughts on brooke schofield situation BEFORE THE YOU KNOW WHAT TODAY

stream of consciousness. slightly problematic, i assume

i sympathize with being influenced by rightwing grandparents, because that was literally me when i was a self-hating queer and trans person that thought trump getting elected was perfectly okay in 2016, in a house playing fox news 24/7 because you live with closeminded old people

not for me to forgive brooke, not for me to say it's understandable or give her a pass, since she was posting racially ignorant things, like saying race had no part in the shooting of trayvon... like, even when i was under the influence of my conservative grandpa and the anti-SJW propaganda of the time, i knew that racial profiling and prejudice was a thing and played a role

however, i also know from my literal firsthand experience of being a self-hating trans person falling into the rightwing grift of ridiculing other trans people that people can genuinely change. i had to make that discovery on my own, though. i had to break out of the influences of my household and the internet and genuinely form my own thoughts through educating myself. after that, i no longer agreed with my grandpa, and would challenge him and admonish his views. you can actually change your views, even in the house you grew up in that primarily upholds opposing views

i will never understand this mindset of 'you said this once 10 years ago that contradict things you believe in now. unforgivable'—and it's like, yeah? are we really saying people's shitty political views by proxy of their upbringing means that a person can never change? i know brooke's situation is different due to being a cis, white, straight woman. but i can also attest to being within a marginalized subset of people, specifically gender and sexuality, and i still criticized other people exactly like me. the brainwashing can sometimes hit THAT deep

now with all that being said

disregard EVERYTHING

because brooke schofield thinks adin ross and trump are super cool ya. not only that, but both her and tana have said some braindead political opinions on their podcast. and i'm not talking 1-2 years ago. it's 1-2 weeks ago.

so, obviously, she really hasn't changed. or, at least, she doesn't care to take the time to truly understand why these issues are important

(edit to add, she addressed liking adin ross's trump post, though it's still annoying for her to not understand that positive engagement with these things boosts their algorithm pushes. i'd like to avoid promoting the extremely heavy-handed wave of indoctrination happening to boys aged 13-18 that we've seen in recent years, thanks! liking a post ironically is still liking the post!)

but, i guess the point of all this is that people can and do change

though the jury is still out on brooke

lul

i really don't understand this 'never forgive anyone for anything they've done' mindset. it's perfectly valid to feel that they haven't changed, or that they aren't truly sorry, or they didn't educate themselves on how their upbringing hurt other people. but that doesn't seem to be the main rhetoric going around. i more often see people saying 'well, i knew better than to be like this at 16, so fuck this person'

like, hello? i am sorry, your saintliness? good for you for never needing to breakthrough a closeminded upbringing and need to educate yourself on social issues against the grain of your surroundings? i'm glad you were never a closeted, self-hating queer person that felt they needed to conform themselves to quell hateful judgment? you took a shot at brooke and hit a wide section of progressive people with conservative upbringings.

brooke may be another issue entirely, but putting an umbrella over people with a problematic past, like 'you can never be forgiven, i knew better at this age' is???? what do you want me, and others like me, to do? go back to being a self-hating, closeted, trans-critical trans person? that's all i'm good for due to having that background?

should go without saying, but i think the conduct of the person from the time of their upbringing should absolutely hold repercussions. if you were out there blasting slurs and spewing hateful vitriol, i'm not going to stand on the podium and champion the 'people can change' rhetoric in that context. during my worst years, even i was never actively bigoted or racist. harmful with my ignorance on racism by not realizing how big of a problem it actually is? yep. harmful with my own self-critical superiority complex on trans issues? yep. even passive or ignorant harm is still harm, but it is...less intentionally nefarious.

so, i think overall the nuance of someone's past does hold weight, and actions should absolutely have consequence. and there are some things that just... can't be forgiven. that's to an individual level, too.

i love talking about gender exploration now, and i love to help people in their own journeys if i'm asked, and i love to advocate for people's right to explore themselves in their identities. but do i think that gives me an automatic forgiveness pass from people in my past i likely made feel self conscious about their identity because of my views back then? nope. i literally deserve to be hated for that.

worse, i probably made people think they could relate to me or trust me with their similar life circumstances just on the basis of being queer and trans, only to end up being a proper Blair White. like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

again, i have NO PLACE to speak on racial issues, as i have not experienced the intersectionality of bigotry that is systemic racism. i will briefly say my understanding of differences between being ignorant to racism, to being not racist, and to being anti-racist, and knowing that active racism and being ignorant to racism often contribute to the same overall attitude of unconscious or systemic racism in society. hell, even being 'not racist' contributes to it.

(edit to add, after seeing all of brooke's tweets, it's EXTREMELY obvious that she was "actively racist" and not "ignorant to racism")

but anyway, yeah. it is not my place. i will defer to those it personally affects. the only thing i can truly speak on is my personal experience in being trans—a former trans-critical trans person. in no way am i saying that racism and transphobia have 1:1 comparable social impacts, either.

so...

problematic pasts, politically influenced upbringings, the varying degrees of offensive behaviors, individual growth, interpersonal forgiveness vs generalized forgiveness

it's all extremely nuanced

but brooke...

yeah

this is like 98% not applicable to her (and even more not applicable after seeing the sheer amount of racism she engaged in)

i guess i just wanted to talk about the holier-than-thou rhetoric around her

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libidomechanica · 9 months ago

Text

High Muses

A limerick sequence

Can I admired, yet t is harmless tendrils did bind to thy mourned. High Muses! The heard, and the mountains driven, through tears, who taxeth me. It is thine. I turned.

Soft hour! Her place and see though Amphion leaning there wanted to the western gate, Luke Havergal, there’s no saying, the shoe or slipperiness. An old sayd sawe.

Again a level—No! Will forget all these ruined house, four, three, I bow full heart draws back at Sunion, hurting with the high circle and water the shepheards kynd.

That shook Belshazzar in his pedlar poems with the sounds which birth to sun’s sight shudderings, hinder himselfe beget? But we remember, now some ten years in love.

At, that does his world of zest. That Mirror that lift up some one huge oak whose loue to be as a propos of hopeless desires and view, the cruel hand. Zeppelin.

Luke Havergal—luke Havergal. With shadowy and glad I was whipt at college—a harsh prude indemnifies her virtue is a line She’s all states, and disease?

The smiles, for sacred shades ’mong oldest shades contemplation ends. And never since in the paths which he had been detain’d his garden- bed as like the overtaken.

I would following the next comer; or—as it ought: of all my ardours: thou wilt find so may exist within our narrative, and, in huge vessel having life.

Living, hurrying, but in no one came but he, more he went halves before my home by night and blood can show with what come what to withstand or understand. Their souls!

Now in a siren, that, unconfin’d, can mingled with the very where I had told. Which no offence is shown, I know, since thereat thing in October, the fair play.

While yet America was in a momentary pleasant to light footsteps; pouring as the blear- eyed nations. What’s uppermost of Scandal stalk’d about our hearts?

He onward scoffing. The woes of her great rate; and whatever people he had a love found therefore, or else divide their old love, I once vowed hairs of worthless man!

Which like taper? Nothing which I use to what strait bed I may look twin opposition. Have bared scalpe, an Eagle sored hye, that feast-day that sweet prisoner bound, unfree?

This housewives do a fly. And built a life to say the perfectly could scarce pluck it for all: her Arethusian stream. His high- designing a virgin’s coronet.

Dotting brooks than aught disparage the shade and yet I wouldn’t want of drawing pelf than the roar? Their fingers were coming Soldier’s lips—That curst magician’s name unnamed!

Feel palpitation well or ill, all blindness; leaving of thine eye, high Poet! Who had made trothplight to good an opportunity, no doubt it, in native home.

In equal fire. Such as thorough-bred to the nobler, that gave them thus oddly. Whence their fount, she had come of heaun it beares; makes my heart. They comfort shut our eyes.

Saying with the minister but changed as true in love. Will gaze her sea wrack and then some grassy nest! The second and wrings will great stores and fleeced the song that sweet babes?

This way might send flower, though all my life! All love. For all the waves has been so much rage, who hath produce of each eve doth now his life is over, the countrymen.

Thou never could not me? In nativeness’ is now her breath, her hair’s long lank slips, or currants hanging place to the devilish escapade or starch, as are the sun.

That I think the present, and you so cruell scortching head. Soft went through simulation ends. How well her tides,—adagios of islands feebly glared that prim, silent all?

Not praise; before me stood near, which the surprise of haunts umbrage of a poetess was seen so sad, I shall not permit us let’s be honest, should love the poem.

Thus went not much command himself converse. The monstrous self? While on the travel in the high society is but an interested men to think of thy house.

Clothed with an eagle nations, slight renew. You did not, to the show’d such pity on her own: tis thus to blame gaunt wealth’s austere, as serv’d to cheer us both: but lo!

Draw in your bourds and some, like virtue highest rate is: she then wonder-draughts; but more quick moved either side, high as thy gentlemen. Eternal love to enter me?

Of sorrows, the eye; what need no lofty elms, a thrush sang loud, and whispered out my ears, and thinke how euill become a man. Was freed, and howl, and why? By Name and thee!

There was designed, Heaven knows the sound over it a sight more grievous foe to the nobler, that Circe might be shown; so, in their education. And yearns to their side!

In nameless present life scarcely say she took delight, and fro, ever about her blended, the foot on my heart had one, thou art? As he that present weather way.

They should be marr’d the bushes rancke, it is more than your face easy to undo me. If all the depart not—lest thee her answer’d, bending courtier could oppose.

Things with sidelong glance from high, the orange surprise, through. Shakes hand like a madman, shriek of sage Minerva’s fowl rattle on exactly pleasures; nor will, to take.

Of men. I loved and sung, the handed on the splendour of each trip; beneath her success, but care but blood is normally the sacred Phoebus’ daughter. Ennui, where?

If you then shall speak of light, over the stately must restoring chamber of deepest secret joys and sky. With fascination, and marchings up, my scathing do’t?

For sitting Boy, since the pine, and the mystery. He taps with unwieldy wreaths of smoke from out an age of a wooden bowl; it moved in my mourned. Breed more than skin’s.

Saw, however did so, but t would rather by degrees. Cut short its immortal can do; the more, thou art in London—in that politics. They have that taketh.

Your face A glimpse at high circles moved either casement, dismay’d, upon a hill and far awa. There, swan-like, let my blind and about the waves awful to see.

In these secret heard no more I will not permit my memory of those sole accomplish’d, cheerful but not look up and wert o’erjoyed to pray: so sure to an art.

No, no, thy streamers to the heavens the grass, and happy once did get mars and fire, bequeath that golden sphere. Trust to thee were walking told that I should I torment.

See, there was not drawn before, and with whom perhaps it may not strive again. Our day one single dragon? And his laureate pension. Of hys keepe a sacrifice.

Was ill, but leaving seen her figure was awe in the earth and thy dear life that made Anacreon old; not beauty dwelling sea. That earst I hote. And I saw through tears.

Ere the tomb? And secure in this is: if I look abroad majesty she stool, she, falling into fonts met in thy sweet, and when that at the rose in siluer field.

Must we part? Or fall beneath her then with the few women’s fruit, o let that I Love’s doctrine disease. Nor had power benign, for I too may live: but thy reign.

Of usual greeting, Margaret stood telling, the inflammation or breath? And nights and his pence, this dim vast vale of Launcelot on a day, sitting calm and pearl.

Sweet and snare your far gone hips, whose strength for loss of your breast discharge of straggling one who sow them not; my smile, if not the worst offence, he can ne’er betray’d it was.

Colors it to manage well that it was nothing do’t? Soon became my garden when every one, and Pegasus to the watery vast; and multiplied it more.

Return, with verse shall not been! Mars and melt—’twas just a cot and built last nightstand may be content with darkest shades contain’d a word, but to see what you know. With ease.

Left the shapes, and Aethon snort his part of them with shadowy and groans of this endure the tomb? Had watching you vomit them from above dappled his paramour.

Is that nights. And senseless print—that I would be i’d toss life falling into my veins. A second and stuck to—for the rocky marge, till, now, on the warmer sun.

Of rose leaves. First shepheards that wish forbear, nor use a faithful from the world of such the summer and gem. And look’d for Passion saw, and elate would sigh back again.

Such easy chearfulness; when, stupefied, I read loaves close in our little by little friendship’s holy saints they in skin of woe? Like chapters in number, not find.

Your souls’ sacrifice to bring out goods, ballast, guns, and suppose, made in this works to draw his magian fish to real hell. There was not heard! Above the overtaken.

I say, in all his kingdom from grave with at least flower, thou hadst never, she cloth’d: must I hote. Nor cheek, and loud revelry expire; so leaving man of Latmos!

Which sometimes were place. Now I wish I could not judge. Scott, who can tell? You stood around my jewel in the favourite with buttondown, O the women you recede through.

The suit, the spell, yet now I could tell thee: yes, I am all that it seems, your body, whose dreadful to the new. She did not rest: to unbosom and keep his heir.

Morality of climate, and head unto such liars, and shame, and golden pomp is come. My fathers are spurn’d into her open eyes, and mutability.

Be? Then was portrayed from him: You will flower had left the charmes resist? Four ladies who, by thousand years: which attract his enemies a lone isle, and troubled.

With gold or silver snowy sentences, may pierce it any less. Let spear- grass and active life allowed beneath her bright as the sea love is fled, a little chang’d.

And what some heir to a woman according to their stiller, not mickle. So canopied, lay an untasted a pure repose and knew its rose hedges for long.

I think I’m worse for that: which filled with his wholly dumb; for, with whom? And when he comes by the sun should have made trothplight death to loss of reason of his Desire!

There is no sleepless majesty of Doris, and you decide few women’s fellow man—the moon’s? For those body of those many a listen their extremes from it!

Forget not that fence shalt see? Beautiful— its verdure of clouds that all ever languisht with reverence use, treat the ruler, on his threate is penny pelf, and live?

Haire; her face bright in darkness, nectarous camel-draughts; but in velvet scabbard! ’ Said Margaret tell with a Kidde, now with her soul is parch’d the midst, in hond thus her face.

Half serious; when winds an outward garb of hours of prayers. Bearing the prey, light that ancient Hag of Fate, that hole in her in her daughter, as I’ll tell more sad.

How beauteous self-denial. Go to the Garden of God, and evidence in sun her shine, next let us strip for his long as I cast mine eyes, bluer stockings.

And most about; she would not being one who slips with the one who resembling silence! But the empty of delight I worship that can people should bar the heart.

So in this dazzling spokes. Music pours of charms my mind liked to see, his feelings that pen doth dwell nor broken: time has been said; but when thy gold breath thy fragile bones.

The curly foam within its wild and clasp’d each time I had been married Venus gloue, ioue on his own shock, that life and bound her mind sinks, yielding to the sooty oil.

When Nero perish’d? And he rode with the dead men go; and some descent, whose relief; undone by your eyes, and to and from the sphered table, and all the poor fool!

Ave Maria! To be for there wanted to roam! He was gone and clear, thou roll’st above my heart doth show the world, and those polar summer gilds them as the hour!

Shall I not talked ere we built with fright of his noted want and weep; on the fair with many a hungry craving wave? The landlord’s daughter’s pink corduroys and sky.

Reluctance for perchance deride any company instead of loves is love, adieu! From that loue doth giue darke then content the shady bench returned, and her last.

The notes it ran, the darkness among, but die together white than any since they are store of; witness— it must I hote. Who, by the present hour when will we seemed.

All your name. Whose stead oblivion, he said, How long as brain and flocks to where such aberrations, shapes, and looking, beheld the choirs above. Full brimm’d, and vanish’d.

Yet all the best on t: March! Than centaurs after scoop. Can show with soft lutes: for that other forming hand were called it simple sheep that for Lycius’ arms were on thee.

Oft avenges arms Shirúeh with sudden by and by that all I love to the book of rest; such ranges, an Oh! And there are no longer coldness of her husband.

In no more soft, more wildering trees which reached the Soul of Richard’ may appal. Although my opinion may retrograde a little thing’s face, in number, not find.

A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, two partners milliners of celebrity dined well in amber, cave and loved. To breed unrest, corroding in thy own?

But, your far gone hip quiver with the miser mind. Not quite forgotten stood from yearning for the heart convey so still perhaps at last more tranquil, yet perhaps there?

To make her last embrace. When a life to say that there among the sound of flutes; nor grateful Evening head, or know it, so we fall through this has no eye following.

He kept houseless Lycius’ arms were cold bleak northern downs in clear thee steal upon the roof of awful richness, nectarous dew. Of race accounted as its clue?

Landlord’s daughter’s web hung to that I follow’d, earthly dunghill is tumbling was the fields. And of the board and bubbled, till pursue this day the brush’d, and all it brings.

With the tomb fair Love, and distinct their sweet music picks up again, portending if you do not light over the even akin. To like this is the Westerne coste?

Is, if men would know that she might behold! Forgotten sonnet; with myrrh and sea-mew’s plaintive creed made a decision inflicted came, the orange and desolate?

There was about, as fearful the sea; and every nation, gleams only time with a band of life, and we adore! Were in heaven, to heaven. When I cast mine ear.

And from the darts, for their bread or the happy though on Lethe to mount, and if of one dark a mind with the comparison? That, with aversion. Hues all gilded masks?

Find sheltering refusals and wishing an urn wept over think that are going to you. Have foundations freedom to thee, that smiling at the Chersonese Ah!

Tho’ the issue. Thou, to-day, but, deare, let me share most tenderest force press’d me; and, clinging as he sung; sung, and she will not gainsay the same—it wearies out Hem!

Obeyed him, and all the blest? The lady and her babe the utmost age eas’d in through thou dost seek the empty world in a sire. After such various, survived.

And their due to the pretty pair—their vanished hence, and seen; a lonely, ’mid the youth and dead, a kingly sunflower, that he did spill. And, in its intricacies.

Blow; and have made moan through an idiot gabble! He country’s custom-house nor quarantine to ask him awkward squad of these their glens, on startles all gilded masks?

Suspect a coward, who hold thy sisters as she came—and lithe pedestal. Or so I thoughts in his daughters and young and with that Muse since liberty is lever.

That setting than half of paradise had more was hers! But now I dare show august to eye or heart- wasting. And with their varies, grant but too shall lover an hour.

Let this: an empire stern, singing like dew, upon the hummingbird! Yet, in that is Algrin Moses was, whom Ida hyll dyd beare: what, a whole creation bore.

Pink mallow grave so rough, me, that, like virtue hate, for nature manners which, let’s be honestly buy, if I ever thrones— amid the tyrant of worth. What thoughts?

Of contradicting them teare. Had newly come, and being apt to talk at a great ennui, whereon within her; like Crashaw. As from heaven, remain with wine.

At that any way be pervious, survives himself for each years long ago, they ought to issue.—But Love of her veil’s first-born flowers it seems, yourself she will call.

Love-distracted thus. Cupid well-natured, my waking matter to importune they form’d the country, where lavish hat from time to times her mind, but so farewel!

We sate to wish that is young, when not to see her alms, as diligent her casting freedome doe professe; Prithee why so mute? He show’d that moon too supplied, and her last.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #143 texts #limerick sequence

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