#You'll have to break me open to hear anything. (Musings)

[bardsandchangelings]

Tag dump (misc 1)

A dark congregation of familiar faces // Gathered around the quiet earth. (Open rp)

The bluebirds flutter in my chest // oh they want to sing! (Memes)

You'll have to break me open // to hear anything. (Answered)

I may not heal from all these bruises // but I’ll be better off this way. (Headcanons)

We'll sing a chorus // one that everybody knows! (Musings)

[anthologyoflucas]

New general tag dump. Simple but not too simple.

We're the authors of our lives. (Open rp)

Please laugh. (Crack)

You'll have to break me open to hear anything. (Musings)

Nothing's too broken to find a way back. (Headcanons)

You look for me but I won't be found. (Aesthetic)

[starry-eyes-love]

Let's Make a Memory

Main Masterlist

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader, AU, One Shot

Summary | Joel takes you out to dinner for the first time and you wind up having sex in their bathroom.

18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, vibrator use, sex in a public bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), language, cute and fluffy moments, a touch of d/s lifestyle.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N:  I don't know where the heck this one came from, but I’m back out of my fanfic writing funk of no inspiration. Sorry guys, I got so burnt out with writing that I needed to take a huge break and was doing some other things for a while. This story is a little different from my other stories that I’ve written, but let’s just say I (being the writer/artist) had a muse that inspired me so we ran with it. I will slowly release other fanfic writings over time. I have no timetable for when fanfic stuff will be out.  I just want to enjoy writing again and not feel pressured. As always…enjoy :)

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear.

Joel sat and ate slowly at dinner, laughing and discussing life with the beautiful woman before him. She was divine, a gorgeous woman, not just on the outside but what was found on the inside.  In the middle of all their laughter, she felt the buzz and the vibration's hum deep inside her. He never once flinched or gave anything away. He controlled the remote, the ability to start it and stop it, her pleasure he owned.

"You were saying?" He said, looking at her straight in her eyes. The challenge for her was to keep talking like nothing was happening. A test of strength, at the ability to follow the command he gave her. "Control your mind, and you'll receive my pleasure."

So she calmed her mind as she squeezed her thighs together, fighting the orgasm that she knew was coming. And as she fought it back, she burned with a fire deeper than anything, trying to remain composed through it all. She wanted him to stop this torture and to give her what she wanted: him.

For 45 minutes, this continued, and she didn't remember anything he had said. "Please," she whispered, almost begging him. To continue, to stop, to let her come, to fuck her hard. She wanted all of it and none of it at the same time. The sweet torture of the tease and the hold off of the release. A game she came to love and hate all together with him.

"Please, what?" He whispered, turning up the intensity again, knowing she was seconds away from release.

"Please, I, I—" she begged, and the vibration stopped before she tipped over.

"Shit," she growled, low and only for her ears. But he heard, and now the wolf was smiling, knowing he would soon devour his prey.

"What was that?" He asked, "Do you have something you wish to say? Something you wish to ask me?" It was a reminder of who played the game better.

"No, Sir. I- may I please excuse myself to the bathroom for a moment? I have to pee."

As he sat back in his chair, he looked at her intently. He knew it was a lie; he knew she was wet for him and wanted him.

Finally, after a moment, he motioned to the bathrooms, saying low, "You may, but don't you dare touch."

A silent nod she gave and whispered "thank you" as she stood.

She was almost to the bathroom door when she felt the vibration rise. She quickly gripped the door, opened the bathroom, walked in, and put her hands on the side of the counter. She was breathing hard and fighting the orgasm that was coming. She completely forgot to lock the door in her fight for composure; she didn't hear Joel Miller, the man who was giving her this sweet torture, enter.

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear. 

He quickly turned her around and slammed his lips onto her mouth, drinking up all her cries of pleasure as he lifted her on the counter and shoved himself in.

"Fuck me," she moaned, trying to grind up against him, seeking the friction that she desperately needed.

"Patience, my love," he said, voice low and with his own primal need.

He was struggling to keep his head about him, not wanting to give over to the pleasure he was feeling. After all, he was still a man, and the harder she clenched down around his cock, the harder it was not to give in to his sexual urges and empty himself into her right then and there.  But Joel prided himself of being a man that never lost his control. 

“Fuck me,” he commanded, urging her forward with his words.  When she didn’t respond, he got right in her face and whispered in a commanding voice, “I said, fuck me.”

And she did; she found herself giving herself over to him completely.  Meeting him thrust for thrust while sitting on the bathroom countertop, one leg pinned up and away from her body by him and the other around his waist.  They were like two dogs in heat, rutting hard into each other and trying to sate the urge of being separated for as long as they have been: a lifetime, her lifetime.

“Baby, harder, please,” she begged. Those statements were like the liquid gasoline to their already raging inferno.  Every moment from the time she first talked with him, she had envisioned their first moment together.  She never imagined it to be here, in a restaurant full of people, but she didn’t care.  She was finally answering the hunger deep inside her, which had driven her mad for a long time, and he knew it.  That was the problem in their relationship; he knew every hidden desire she had without her ever opening her mouth.  Some say it is pure luck; others find it a curse.  But to her, it was like the most beautiful symphony ever played; he was her muse for once.  

In the creative artist’s world, a muse is a source that inspires an artist.  Though he never showed it, except for glimpses of it occasionally.  She thought he stopped seeing and loving her at one point, but that was just the mask.  The mask so she couldn’t see what she was doing to him inside, how much she was changing his soul as he changed her for the better.  Artist and muse.  It happens only once in a blue moon, something as fierce as this. For an older man named Joel Miller, this was the perfect recipe he needed—someone younger than him yet could still breathe life back into his soul.

A long time ago, Joel thought the world had turned its back on him.  Tommy had found happiness, his brother, after Joel had lost his child and wife, two people he had forever cherished.  Sarah, his daughter, died far too soon in life, and his wife left him because of many reasons.  She never said, but he knew.  Joel’s most significant problem in life was communication sometimes. He struggled to tell the person he was with how much he appreciated them and how much they mattered.  He said it through other means, telling them to drive safely, eat, and be careful.  Those phrases mean nothing to most people, but to Joel, they meant “I love you.”  You see, sometimes Life happens, and people struggle to express how much they care about someone.  How deeply they do.  And that was Joel’s problem before he met her.  Even now, as he takes what is his, what she has given up to him, he still struggles to communicate how much he cares and wants her forever in his life. But she knows.

You see, this woman he has pinned to the countertop and is thrusting hard inside of sees his soul for what it is.  Someone who felt like most of his life he didn’t deserve love, so she decided to give him the one thing that she knew he’d never ask for: love.  Yes, they sometimes disagree and have had moments where she hurt him with words.  But he meant more to her than what she’d ever say.  So maybe they both had a problem communicating that to the other. Or maybe right here in this moment of Joel pining her up against the counter, she could show him, just like she did every second of every day, with comments of “Hello cutie” and “You know you’re cute, just a little bit.” Her favorite was asking him how his day was. All those sayings said the same thing: she cared about him and his happiness.  All she ever wanted was for him to find peace and joy in life, no matter what.  That’s why this was different; they both felt that way but never said it out loud. 

“Joel, shit, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby, show me.”

As she finally tipped over the edge for the first time with him like this, she felt the Earth shift on its axis, and her soul left her body and attached itself to another human in outer space. Joel soon followed behind her. When it was all over, and they were both spent, panting into each other’s ears as he held her, she understood that Joel knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what she would experience.  He made her wait to ensure she was ready for this experience.  The orgasm comes from the soul, not the body, and that’s what he wanted her to feel, their souls merging as one. 

Joel didn’t want meaningless sex; he’d had a lifetime of that when he was married.  He wanted a genuine connection, one out of this world, one where two people felt it together. There was no going back from this moment, and Joel knew it.  So, with a slight smile, he cleaned her up and helped her down.  Standing up on wobbly legs, she said in a sassy tone, “Wipe that smirk off your face, old man; my legs are wobbly because I was sitting on the counter, not because of what you did.”

With a deep laugh, Joel shook his head and said, “Okay, whatever ya gotta tell yourself, sweetheart.”  But he knew, just like she did too.  

With a tender kiss to her lips, she smiled and said as she opened the door, “I’m still ordering dessert with a ton of sprinkles on it.”  Joel gave a huge belly laugh as he exited the bathroom with her and took her hand into his.  

Sprinkles—the sweet treat on top of the best dessert—was a private joke they had together. Sex was the sprinkles on top of the dessert, the dessert being Life's journey together. You still had to create the dessert together, which he has always focused on—making the best foundation to enjoy those sprinkles. 

As they sat back down and ordered dessert, both had something with sprinkles on it.  As they ate, they silently chuckled and smiled at each other, at the memory they just created together.  Getting to this moment felt like a lifetime, but it was the best wait possible, and they both wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[mncxbe]

Come on, baby, don't you hurt me anymore

𝐀𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: light angst, fluff?, itty bitty smut, one bed trope, smoking, mutual pining, spoilers for s1// inspired by an ask i got from my beloved 🐑 anon

"I can feel you plotting something" said Aki, his gaze fixed on a distant spot outside the hotel room window. It was snowing so much that the buildings on the opposite side of the street appeared only as a blurry contour– blocks of dark grey punctuated by neon signs. Aki's voice carried an edge of annoyance which you shrugged off, huffing.

"I'm not plotting anything" you chuckled, shifting away from under the heavy blanket. "Whatever..." he groaned in response "Just stop moving around I'm trying to sleep"

You were grateful he couldn't see you rolling your eyes at his words. He was impossible. It's been a few months since you first started crushing on your partner and now that Makima sent you two to Kyōto on business it was the perfect opportunity to make a move. You were forced to share a room, a bed.

As you laid next to him, you wondered what would be the best way to confess your feelings– a direct approach might've worked, but Aki was too sleepy to engage in any conversation. You sighed, your gaze musing on the snowflakes outside and then it hit you... the perfect opportunity to get Aki to talk to you. Sliding out of bed you made your way towards the window, prying it open.

Your movements alerted the man beside you who groaned angrily. "Where are you going?".

"Just getting some air, relax. It's not like I'm gonna run off or something" you retorted "You should come too"

"Like hell. It's freezing". You couldn't help but laugh at his comment– for someone who grew up in a mountainous area he sure hated winter. "Suit yourself, but you'll have to do without your cigarettes" you giggled, dangling his pack in front of him as you disappeared outside on the fire escape platform. You could hear your partner's groans of protest as he called out your name but you didn't respond.

With an annoyed sigh, Aki got out of bed and slipped on his shoes, following you outside. He found you at the leaning against the metal railing, holding the pack in front of him– daring him to come get it. He wasn't in the mood for this; it's been an exhausting day, packed with meetings with the higher ups and honestly all he wanted to do was sleep but you wouldn't give him a break.

Stepping closer to you, Aki reached for the cigarettes but you quickly pulled your hand away, hiding it behind your back. "Come and get them if you want them so much, Hayakawa" you taunted. The mischevious smirk that played on your lips only irked him more. "Can you not?" he hissed, closing the distance between you as he tried to grab a hold of the pack. He was basically hugging you, his body pressing you further against the icy railing."I'm not joking, y/n. give them back it's cold out here" he whined and you pursed your lips, cooing at him. "I didn't know the great Aki Hayakawa was scared of a little cold"

You could see the shift in his expressing, his lips pressing in a thin line as he yanked the pack from your hands. "You're no fun, Aki" you sighed, content that the man was back to his alert self. "Well, I'm not in the mood for this" he answered mindlessly, taking a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. The flame glowed red against the grey night. You stepped closer to him, the crisp snow melted under your bare skin, burning the soles of your feet but the sensation felt oddly comforting– a distraction from the heavy tension between you and Aki. Raising on your tippy-toes you gave him a knowing smile "Then what are you in the mood for?"

Aki's cheeks dusted pink at your question. He wasn't stupid, he was aware of your feelings for him but he'll be damned if he was going to give you the satisfaction. His gaze moved up and down your body– from the lace trimmed tank top and cushy pajama pants to your bare feet and he scowled. How were you not freezeing?"Get back inside, idiot. I don't want you catching a cold."

"Didn't know you cared so much about my well-being" you purred, stepping on the vamps of his boots. Your actions took him by surprise and he instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You were almost at the same level as him, so close he could see the fat snowflakes resting on your hair and lashes. God, you looked so pretty in the soft glow of the winter night. You seemed right out of an old pictures movie. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it, averting his gaze.

"What, Hayakawa, you nervous?" you taunted, your voice dripping with amusement. Hooking a finger under his chin, you brought your lips closer to his ear"Am I making you nervous?" The man shivered– your breath was hot against his skin, the closeness warming up his insides.

"No" he said plainly, still not facing you. He's never been a good liar and he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his true feelings if he were to look you in the eyes. Of course, you were aware of that, but you were dead set on making his composure crumble. Your lips ghosted over the shell of his ear before making their way lower, tracing soft kisses along the expanse of his neck. "You sure, Aki?" you giggled, relishing the way he tensed up under your touch. He smelt well; of tobacco and fresh cologne, making your whole body heat up in anticipation.

Your kisses raised goosebumps in their wake, causing the man to shudder. Still, he made no attempt to stop you- he knew it would've been pointless. Instead, he squeezed your hip tighter, ashing his cigarette. "You know it won't work, right? A relationship I mean"

"Why not?" you asked, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. You were perfectly modled in his embrace, as if you were made to fill his sharp, hollow edges with your soft curves. "Because it simply wouldn't work" he insisted, sighing. He didn't want to tell you that he only had at most two years left to live, that starting a relationship would be pointless since he wasn't going to watch it grow into something... more. So he simply remained silent.

As if reading his mind you pulled away from him, looking up to meet his eyes. "If it's about you dying soon, i know already" Aki raised a brow at your words and you shrugged, wrapping your arms around him "Denji told me" you clarified, watching the stern expression on his face melt into something softer.

"Look, Aki... do you really wanna go through life without living a little? Don't you want something more?"

Aki would've lied if he said that your words didn't take a toll on him. You were right, he wasn't allowing himself the comfort of normality– getting attached to you, caring. "I just don't want you to suffer. There's no point in you falling in love with me when I already have an expiration date"

You chuckled at his words, placing a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Be a little selfish, Aki. It's your life, don't let it go to waste. Plus, i'm a big girl I can take care of myself."

"You clearly can't" he commented, gesturing at the way you were clinging to him. Aki brushed a frozen strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. "I like you too. i really do but... I don't think we should do this"

You looked up at him with those big doe eyes he so adored, blinking a few snowflakes away from your lashes "Okay, you don't think we should, but do you want to?" you asked in a soft voice that made him melt like a wax candle. "It's nothing wrong with letting yourself have the things you want. for once, think about what you want, not what you think is the right thing to do"

You were so goddamn adamant that you were making him give him, so stubborn– but also right. He never allowed himself the things he wanted most. Looking down at you his heart tightened in his chest; you were so beautifully present, so real and certain, unlike any other aspect in his life. He couldn't bring himself to say no to you. So maybe... just once he could have something good in his life.

Aki let out a low sigh. flicking the bud of his cigarette out on the street, he took a deep breath "And how would this work? Are we going to sneak around? You know Makima doesn't take relationships between colleagues too well" You hushed him, placing a finger on his lips "Don't worry about that, Aki. We'll figure out a way." you reassured him, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips and his heart skipped a beat. His arms tightened around you, squeezing you against him as his tongue slipped in your mouth, ripping a soft moan from you.

Aki's mind went blank, all his worries and doubts melting away as he held you close to him. You were far away from home, so he was going to make the most of the alone time you had together. You were right, he thought as he rushed back inside with you and slid under the puffy blanket, dragging you on top of him– you could figure things out. Give it a try at least. But for now he just wanted to give in, to spill all his want in you. So for once, he didn't hesitate when you kissed him, dipping his hand lower down your body to touch you where you needed him most. you hastly unclasped his belt, the sound of metal piercing through the silence of your room and he groaned at your touch, pulling you closer against him. Any trace of uncertainty was gone the moment you sunk low on him, moaning softly into the needy kiss you were sharing– he knew without a shred of doubt that this was right, you were good for him. And he wasn't planning to let you go.

[forever-rogue]

i mean 👀👀 agent whiskey is such a flirt i would probably die if he flirted with me he would have me the moment he opened his mouth. But also i could see him flirting with the nerdy lab assistant who he really likes but she thinks he isnt being serious bc of the amt of flirting he does on cases. (hes so attractive it hurts)

AN | No but the cowboy could flirt with me any time 🥺❤️

Pairing | Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | PP Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're going to give yourself a headache, sugar," the outside of his warm southern drawl caused you to almost jump out of your chair. You hadn't even heard him coming; he was incredibly stealthy but you knew that was just part of the job. You turned to him and offered a small smile, trying not to stare at his ridiculously handsome face, "staring at the computer too much and workin' entirely too hard."

"I, shit - Jack," immediately you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, "I didn't even hear you!"

"Well, I wouldn't be very good at my job if you did hear me," he teased, sitting on the edge of your desk, which caused you to have a mild freak out. You gave him a nervous, tight lipped smile before shrugging, "do you ever take breaks?"

"Sometimes," your cheeks warmed up as he tutted at you, "when time allows."

"I don't like that answer," he drummed his fingers along the top of the desk before quickly hopping off and holding his hand out to you. You stared at it as though it was some weird, foreign thing, "come on. I'm taking you to lunch."

No. Nope. Definitely not. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive that. 

"Oh Jack," you shook your head and rolled your chair a little further away, "I can't. I'm… too busy."

"Hmm," he hummed softly but didn't pull his hand away, "I think you know by now that I am a stubborn man. And I don't usually take no for an answer."

"Jack…"

"Come on," he tilted his head towards the door and motioned for you to follow, "I'll even let you pick the place. I won't keep you for too long, sugar, I just want to make sure you've had something to eat and taken a well deserved break."

You stared at him for a few long seconds before slowly nodding. 

It wouldn't be too bad. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," you didn't like the sound of Ginger's tone at all. You knew it all too well. You froze as you poured your cup of coffee, "I heard you went out with Jack."

"Oh yeah, we - wait," you almost dropped the carafe, "what!? Ginger, what are you talking about?"

"I heard from Trish who heard from Christine that you and Jack went on a little date," there was a huge smirk on her face as you tried to process even what she was saying.

"Ginger. Ginger," you set everything down and turned to her, holding your hands up as an act of surrender, "you of all people know that you shouldn't listen to gossip!"

"Oh," she shrugged lightly and crossed her arms over her chest, "but you're not denying it."

"I - no!" You groaned heavily, "we didn't go out, Ginger. We…he came to my office and insisted that I needed a break and we went to grab lunch. It wasn't a date or anything."

"But you did go out," you opened and closed your mouth a few times, "you could have said no, right?"

"I…" you thought about it a few more moments, "but it's Jack. You know how persuasive he can be."

"Mhmm," she made her own coffee and turned her back to you. You sighed heavily, "of course he is. But he's also sweet on you."

"He is not," you sounded almost indignant but her words gave you a moment of pause. He wasn't, was he. No…he was just an openly flirty man. It wasn't just specifically with you…the idea was preposterous, "that's just how he is."

"Is it though?" She mused sweetly. You couldn't even be annoyed with her, she was too sweet for that, "listen, sweetheart, you're a scientist. You're incredibly intelligent but you're so blind. Open your eyes a little bit and then you'll have your answer."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked but she was gone and out of sight before you even finished your question, "Ginger?"

“Just Jack last time I checked,” oh maker. Of course the man in question had to have that perfect timing. You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a low breath. This was Jack after all, just another coworker. There didn’t have to be anything weird about it. The fact that you’d harbored a crush on him for as long as you’d been working was another thing entirely. Of non-import. Except that it was becoming an increasingly large problem that made it hard to be around him. Hell. Maybe this was worse than you had thought. 

“O-oh,” you pasted on the best smile you could muster up in that moment before turning back to the coffee that seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world, “hi.”

“Hey sugar,” he really had to have that warm, syrupy drawl didn’t he? It made your knees weak, “everything alright? You seem awfully jumpy.”

“Everything’s just fine,” you were a liar. Everything was most definitely not fine, “just needed a coffee break.”

“I’d suggest water,” he leaned against the counter and gave a lazy little half smile, “but I’m glad to see you’re taking a break at least.”

“Mhmm,” a tightlipped smile was thrown his way, “had to stop staring at my screen for a while.”

“Well good,” he reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. His touch was electric and sent shivers down your spine and butterflies to explode in your tummy, “listen, I was wondering if-”

“I’ve gotta go,” you took a step out of the room and away from him, “I’ve got a lot to do.”

Jack watched as you almost ran away back to your office. He shook his head fondly and decided that he would check in on you later. There was no reason for him to scare you off now; everything would happen in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it seemed like you saw Jack everywhere you went. Whether or not it was intentional it was starting to drive you crazy. The man took up enough of your mind already, he didn’t need to be the only thing on it. Any time you weren’t actively thinking about something else, the cowboy took over your thoughts. It almost wasn’t fair. 

This particular evening you were positive you were the last one left in the building. There were just a few things you needed to finish up and you hadn't planned on being there too much longer.

That’s why when you heard the footsteps coming from down the hall, your brain went into fight or flight mode. You grabbed the nearest thing that you thought could serve as a weapon and clutched it tightly. Padding over to the door, you hid just out of sight and waited for the intruder to come in. 

You held your breath as you got ready to attack and as soon as you the person walked through the door, you jumped and yelled at them. He was startled in response but you quickly realized that it wasn’t just any intruder…it was Jack. Of course.

Sighing heavily, you lowered your arms and took a step back, “what the hell, Jack?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Me?” he asked, eyes wide and incredulous, “you’re the one brandishin’ a beaker at me!”

“It was all I could find!”

“Did you really think that little thing was going to protect you?” his surprise quickly turned into amusement as you eyed the glass in your hand.

“I dunno,” you set it back down and took a step back, “it was just…the moment. What are you even doing here?”

“Working,” he put his hands on his waist as he was prone to doing, “what about yourself, sugar?”

“Working,” you echoed softly, “I was just getting ready to leave in a few minutes.”

“Funny,” he offered you the sweet smile that you found hard to resist, “I was going to do the same thing."

"Funny," you agreed meekly although you definitely did not think it was funny. This was Jack after all…he didn't do things without purpose, "well, I guess I'll let you get back to it."

"Listen," he paused in the doorway but you'd already turned around, face contorting into a grimace, "would you want to stop for a bite to eat?"

You had a feeling this was coming but it didn't stop the clench of your shoulders that you just knew he could see, "umm, I'm okay. Thank you for offering though."

"You got any plans tonight?" He strode back over, determined as ever. Even though you were anxious as hell, you couldn't deny that his gentle persistence was making you melt, "darlin'."

"N-not really," you admitted, side-eyeing him sneakily, "just stuff and things."

"Stuff and things," he repeated and you nodded. He huffed lightly before hesitantly reaching over and putting a finger under your chin. When you didn't pull out of his touch, he brought your face up to his, "is there a reason you're avoiding me?"

"N-no," you lied weakly as he tutted in disbelief. You caught his eye for a moment before swallowing thickly, "you make me nervous." 

You weren't even entirely sure if you'd meant to say it out loud but there it was. No going back now. His eyes widened for a minute before he nodded, "is there a particular reason why? Have I ever done or said anything to make you feel that way? If so, I greatly apologize-"

"You haven't done anything wrong," you quickly stopped him and shook your head fervently, "its just…you."

"Me?" He was bemused and you were floundering. How very typical.

"Yes," you sighed lightly, "you're all great and wonderful and lovely and I feel like if I go out with you're just going to be even better and I'll fall in love! But it won't be the same for you because you don't like me like that, you're just flirty with everyone."

"Hold on a minute there, sugar," he pushed back a few locks of stray hair out of your face, watching you intently, "you're going a million miles a minute."

"Jack-"

"There is some truth to what you've said," he agreed, "but a lot of falsehoods too."

"Oh. Oh?"

"I don't expect you to fall in love with me," he whispered, "at least not yet. But in case you haven't noticed, which I see now you did not, I am sweet on you. I like to think I'm nice to everyone, most people anyway, but that's often mistaken for flirtation. However this old cowboy ain't got eyes for anyone but you."

Surely your mind was manifesting this. Maybe you'd fallen asleep at your desk and were in the middle of a fever dream. But….no. you definitely felt him brush his knuckles along your cheek before he traced his thumb along your bottom lip.

"Seriously?" You cringed as soon as you blurted out your question, "me?"

"Mhmm," he hummed softly, "I'm not forcing you into anything - and if you prefer for me to leave you alone completely let me know - but I'd love to have the honor of taking you to dinner."

"Like a date?" Scientist who? Clearly you were a wordsmith.

"Not just like a date but an actual date," he agreed, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth and displaying his dimple, "tonight can be casual but perhaps this weekend you'd let me do this all properly."

"Okay," your answer came out softly and easily, causing your face to warm up and his to light up brighter than the sun. It wasn't really even a question; you liked Jack a lot…you'd just never thought he could feel the same. And yet here you were.

"You're thinking much too loudly, darlin'," he chuckled as you blinked owlishly, "wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

"I sure will," he really did have the loveliest smile, "but I'd like to take you out first. I want to do this thing right."

"Will you kiss me?" Ugh. You were definitely crawling into a hole and never leaving.

"Wow," he was just too dreamy.

"Wow yourself," he teased affectionately, "now what do you say we get out of here?"

"Yes," every fiber of your being was humming with excited energy, "please."

"Well come on then, sugar," he took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Swoonworthy, that's what he was, "ain't got no time to waste!"

Yeah. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 59]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

When Mingi snuck you in, the managers looked at you with uncertainty. You're guessing they already knew what happened, or at least, the relationship you have with Mingi. There's no other explanation to seeing you two walk in together.

"Good to see you again." They gave you brief hugs with tight smiles. You sensed the nervousness in their voices.

"Thank you. I hope you've been well." You spoke calmly, reciprocating their hugs.

"Let's go." Mingi guided you in further into the floor where all the members' rooms were. If the talk with Ateez doesn't work out, you'll take Haneul and go home. That's it.

"It'll be okay." Mingi kissed the top of your head before you knocked and entered Seonghwa's room.

"Jongho took Haneul out for brunch. We thought it was best she wasn't here while we talked." Seonghwa explained as he led you both further in.

"That's fine. Thanks." You nodded. The rest of the boys were all spaced out amongst the couch, study corner, the bed and the vanity. It felt like you were being interviewed by a panel with the way all their eyes were on you. You didn't even notice that you stopped breathing until Mingi's hand came to rest on your back.

"Breathe." He whispered the reminder, making you inhale and fill your lungs with oxygen again.

"Here." He guided you to sit on the empty space of the couch with him settling right beside you. Seonghwa handed you a bottle of water. You removed your mask and tucked it into your pocket.

"I guess before we say anything. I want to sincerely apologise to all of you. What I did is unforgiveable, the hurt I've caused everyone." You stood up and bowed deeply.

"Indigo... There's nothing to apologise for." San cleared his throat. You gave a small smile in reply.

"So, I'm not sure what Seonghwa and Jongho have told you... Why don't you guys ask me questions?" You suggested.

"Were you ever hurt by this person that threatened you?" Hongjoong asked. He had actually asked Seonghwa this before but he knew he needed to hear it from you to actually be sure.

"No. But I was followed and stalked. Haneul and you all, as well. That was my breaking point, I guess. In my new house, I was sent pictures of us and Haneul together. They used my real name too, which scared me a lot." You confessed.

"We understand. I think in your position, we would have been scared too. You did go to the police right?"

"Yes because the person vandalised my old apartment the night I moved out. My old landlord opened the case and I followed up with evidence." You explained.

"Could the police not do anything?"

"I'm sure you know about the internal investigation. It was just the wrong time to have an internal investigation since it can get out to the media and you were preparing for a comeback." You said.

"Indigo... You know you shouldn't put the comeback before your own safety." Wooyoung frowned.

"But I couldn't do that to all of you." You shook your head with a sigh. Mingi placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. All the boys sent you sad, pitiful looks.

"So you're signed to Big Hit now?" Yeosang asked.

"Yes. But I want to clarify that I did not use all of you as my stepping stone. The offer from Pdogg came in after I started at KQ. Eden and CEO Kim were made aware of the offer early on, I was honest with them in my consideration of the offer." You explained.

"If the offer came in before everything happened, why didn't you tell us then?" Wooyoung followed up.

"I honestly pushed it to the back of my mind. I was going to finish the contract with KQ no matter what my decision was. It wasn't a covert secret." You replied.

"So you forgot to tell us?"

"Not that either... At that time, I saw no use in announcing it. I didn't want to promise to stay or cause a distraction with my impending departure. Really, that's the truth." You said.

"Pdogg asked me if I wanted to spend 2 years in America, working at the HYBE America office with Western producers. I said yes."

"You and Mingi presumably talked a lot last night. So what's going happen?" Hongjoong asked.

"Indigo will be here to finish the 2 year stint with Big Hit. While she remained here, I would like to propose to CEO Kim to launch the internal investigation into finding the culprit behind the threats. Knowing that they threatened our own safety too is dangerous for all of us." Mingi explained.

"Then you're coming back to Korea after the 2 years are finished?" Seonghwa clarified.

"That's the plan. But to avoid there being a future conflict of interest, we decided it was best for me to not return to KQ to work. I'll stay with Big Hit." You informed.

"You and Mingi are together again?" Yeosang raised his eyebrows. You and Mingi looked at each other before nodding.

"After everything she put you through, you forgive her just like that?" Yunho's voice was heard for the first time.

"Yun..." Mingi was shocked by his best friend's cold words. Yunho clicked his tongue and frowned in disapproval. He walked out of the room without sparing you another glance.

"I'll go talk to him." Mingi assured and walked out, chasing after the other male.

"I don't blame him... I don't deserve Mingi's forgiveness, or any of yours for what I did." You smiled bitterly.

"Indigo, that's not true. You're too hard on yourself. You went through a lot on your own. You did what you did because you thought it was the best way to keep everyone safe. Yunho is just... protective of Mingi." San said, trying to find the right words.

"Come here." Wooyoung leapt forward and hugged you tightly, nuzzling his cheek against yours. Then he tucked your head under his chin to coddle you.

"Poor Indigo... It must have been hard going through all that on your own. But you're not alone anymore." He whispered.

"I don't deserve any of you." You teared up, looking at everyone in the room as they looked back at you.

"You do. We're family and we stick together, we protect each other. Whatever it is, we go through it together." Hongjoong smiled fondly. You nodded your head.

"But that means no more hiding things for us. You hide things again, I'll smack you as punishment." Wooyoung scolded.

"I won't, I promise." You said.

"Okay, no more tears. I'm sure you and Mingi had your fair share of tears yesterday, judging by your puffy faces." Seonghwa chuckled, grabbing a tissue to gently wipe away the tears from your cheeks. You gave everyone there a hug. But you knew, you needed to make things right with Yunho.

"I'll go find them." You informed the group and walked out of the room. Just then, Mingi emerged from one of the rooms, a conflicted look on his face.

"Oh, baby." He looked up to see you.

"Is he in there? I'll talk to him." You asked, nodding over the room, which you assumed was Yunho's.

"Mhmm. But maybe it's not the best if-" He chewed on his bottom lip, rubbing the back of his neck with apprehension. You gently pulled his chin so he wouldn't gnaw on his lip.

"I'll be fine." You assured. Mingi sighed but nodded, giving you a peck on the forehead and an encouraging squeeze of your shoulder.

"Yunho? It's me. Can I come in?" You knocked on the door. There was no reply but you slowly entered.

Yunho was standing in the balcony, leaning against the banister as he looked out the city view. His back was to you but you could feel the anger radiating off it. You gulped and took a deep breath before you slowly approached him.

"If you're here to tell me you had no choice and were the victim, I know. I know that. I don't need to be convinced any further." He said, still facing away from you.

"I'm not here to convince you, Yunho. Because I understand. If I were you, I would act and feel the same way." You sighed.

"No, don't say that." Yunho turned to you. His eyes were glassy as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"You can't say that you understand because you don't. You weren't here, you... you didn't see. You didn't see what I went through." Yunho sniffled.

"I know, you went through a lot on your own. I know, it's not your fault. But I can't see him go through that again, I can't let him get hurt like that again." He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Yunho. It must have been a lot..." You apologised, eyes casting downwards.

"He was a shell of a person. I thought I lost him for good. All the nightmares, the anxiety attacks, I was there. I was the one that saw him through that. It ripped him apart and I felt like a failure for letting him get like that. I couldn't comfort him, I didn't know how to comfort him." He choked on a sob.

"It killed me at how I couldn't protect him from you." He looked into your eyes through the tears.

You ignored the dull ache in your chest at his words. But you knew that they were nothing but the truth. You couldn't imagine what Yunho went through to support Mingi.

"He was just starting to get better. I thought we were getting somewhere, that I got him back." He cried.

"I shouldn't have come back." You whispered.

"Yeah, maybe you shouldn't have." He agreed, wrapping his arms around himself. You expected this, not everyone would have welcomed you with open arms.

"I can't let you hurt him again. I don't think I can witness him go through that all over again if you decide to leave once more. You can't just decide one day to up and leave him, and leave me to pick up his broken pieces." He said.

"I shouldn't have done that, it was unfair to you." You said. Watching someone that was like your brother, tear himself apart must have been scarring.

"And our group was falling apart. When Seonghwa hyung and Jongho revealed that they knew the truth, we became divided."

"Oh, Yunho..." You let out a small gasp.

"Hongjoong hyung barely came home because he felt betrayed by Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung wasn't happy and would instigate fights with San. We were a mess." Yunho said.

"I didn't know..." You knew that wasn't a good excuse or reason. You wished Jongho and Seonghwa had told you this was happening.

"We couldn't hold the group together. That's why the CEO put us on vacation for two months. I didn't even go home to see my family because I couldn't leave Mingi alone. He wasn't going to meet his mother in that state so I had to stay with him in the dorm and help him." He told you.

"I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. But I had to be strong for everyone, for Mingi. I tried to take on his burden and pain, I comforted him but who comforted me?" He wiped his tears.

"I'm sorry." You moved forward to wrap your arms around him. Surprisingly, Yunho didn't fight your hug. He threw his head back as he sobbed.

"I'm not the bad guy."

"You're not. You're far from, Yunho." You denied, hugging him tighter. Slowly, he lifted his hands to grasp the material of your hoodie.

He held you for support as he cried his heart out. All the months of having to be strong for Mingi and the rest of Ateez, he could finally let go. You offered him the comfort that he sought.

"Why can't I be happy for him?" He asked. You didn't have an answer and you knew Yunho wasn't looking for one either. You hated that you were the reason he was feeling this anguish, the reason he felt like a bad friend to Mingi.

"I can't always be there for him..."

"You don't have to be. It's okay to not always be strong, Yunho." You told him. You knew Yunho carried the weight of the responsibility of taking care of Mingi.

"Please don't hurt him again. He won't be able to take it." Yunho said, his head falling onto your shoulder.

"I won't. I won't make you two go through this again." You promised.

After you left Yunho to have some space, you went to find Hongjoong. You texted Mingi that you were going to Hongjoong's room to rest for a bit, to which he whined about for a bit but ultimately was okay with it.

"Tired?" Hongjoong asked, resting on his side as he stroked your back. You hummed, turning your head to the side so you weren't lying faced down.

"Emotionally drained." You breathed out. You told Mingi and Hongjoong that you will not tell them what happened with Yunho. It was something private that you wouldn't tell anyone.

"I can imagine." He comforted, moving the stroke your head.

"I'm not your cat." You huffed, rolling over so you laid on him. He blinked, taken aback by your actions but stayed still.

"When are you guys leaving?" You asked as you stared at the ceiling with Hongjoong under you.

"In 3 days. It's free days." He replied, totally unbothered by you practically squishing him. You hummed, so you only had 2 days left with the boys. Your chest suddenly felt tight.

"I'll make the most of the 2 days I have then." You said. Hongjoong was remained quiet at your statement. Of course he didn't want to leave you behind. If he could, he would pay for you and Haneul to pack up and return home with them. But your safety was already compromised once, he wasn't going to let it happen again.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." You said, ending with a yawn. Seonghwa walked in, stopping when he noticed your position, draped over Hongjoong.

"Who is it?" Hongjoong grunted.

"Hey, Hwa." You waved lazily, replying to Hongjoong's question at the same time. You groaned, wriggling as if to squish Hongjoong further into the bed.

"Oww, Indi!" He smacked your side. You snickered and did it again. But you didn't expect Hongjoong to flip you over, now it was his turn to squish you under his weight.

"Hwa, help me!" You whined. Seonghwa leaned against the wall with a smile, he missed seeing this.

"Stop laughing and help me before I suffocate!" You yelled in exaggeration. Hongjoong rolled his eyes but got off you. You sat up, smoothing you hair as you slapped his arm. The door opened and Haneul ran in with a much bigger figure.

"Canon ball!" Haneul and Wooyoung shouted between their laughs. You and Hongjoong yelped, wincing in pain from the impact of their bodies crashing on yours.

"Hey, baby. Did you have fun with Jongho?" You asked as Hongjoong moved her onto his lap, his arms hugging her.

"Mhmm! I got presents too! They're in bear oppa's room." She giggled.

"Presents? How nice..." You gave her a tight smile before you shot the maknae a look with wide eyes. He looked away, focusing on his phone and refusing to meet your eyes.

"Guys, we spoke about presents." You mumbled.

"Come on, Indigo. She looked so cute, I couldn't say no. I want to spoil her a little." Jongho sighed. You scoffed at that excuse.

"Can we go swimming now?" Haneul asked.

"I'm sorry I didn't bring your swimsuit, baby. Maybe another day." You apologised. You didn't know what the outcome of this talk with Ateez would have been so packing Haneul's swimsuit for the hotel pool was a thought that didn't even cross your mind. Suddenly, Jongho cleared his throat and held up a bag.

"Luckily! We saw one that was absolutely adorable on Haneul so we can go swimming." He pointed out. You shot him a flat look while Haneul squealed and cheered.

"Please, unnie?!" She begged.

"Sure, baby." You nodded. You went to the bathroom to help her change, laughing when you saw the polar bears printed on it.

"Baby, did you thank Jongho for buying you all the presents?" You asked her as you zipped up the swimsuit. She nodded her head with a big smile.

"That's my girl." You ruffled her hair. You wouldn't admit it but Jongho was right, Haneul was adorable.

"There's my little bear." Jongho smiled when he saw Haneul come out in her new swimsuit. You glared at him, pointing at him as a signal that you were keeping an eye on him and his gift buying. Haneul didn't need 20 pairs of sneakers.

"Let's change and go. We'll be with her in the shallow end the entire time." San promised. You nodded your head, you trusted the boys to properly take care of her.

"I'll go let Mingi know where we will be. Meet you guys at the pool." You waved and went to Mingi's room.

"Mings? Are you sleeping? Where are-" You nearly screamed as you were suddenly pinned against the wall the moment you walked in. Mingi chuckled, pushing the door close with his foot.

"I missed you." He leaned down, nuzzling against your neck.

"If you weren't holding my hands, I would smack you for scaring me like that." You scoffed.

"I know, that's why I'm not letting you go~" He said, pinning your hands by the side of your head. He planted kisses along your jawline.

"Mings, they're waiting for us by the pool." You told him.

"I only have 2 more days with you. Please let me be selfish and keep you with me. Anyway, you know the boys will take care of Haneul while I take care of you." He said, letting you go. But only briefly because his hands came to your waist and pulled you against him. He hugged you tightly.

"I wish I could take you home with me." He whispered.

"Me too. But we will make it work right?" You replied, arms winding around his neck as you tip toed.

"Yes, we will. That's a promise." He pulled away, looking into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. When he broke the kiss, he just stared at you.

"Will you tell me what you spoke to Yunho about?"

"No. I told you that conversation remains between him and I. Even if you're my boyfriend and he's your best friend, I won't give anything away. If he wants to tell you, he can." You shrugged.

"I miss hearing you call me your boyfriend. Say it again." He grinned cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

"My boyfriend." You repeated.

Mingi kissed your forehead. He couldn't believe that you were in his arms again. Even if you were inevitably going to part ways again, you both knew it was only temporary. He was going to savour and cherish these 2 days with you.

~

Series Masterlist

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 5

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. This is our CDC chapter, so TW for mention of suicide in this one. It's a little graphic.

And it might be better to go in blind, but if you'd like the second TW, please check the first tag on this post.

Other than that, please enjoy reading!

Glenn exhales, "Would you look at that?"

The sun is rising.

Last night I was a dying dog and today I am Harley Dixon.

Me, Dad and Glenn are on the roof of the parked RV, watching the sky give birth to the sun, knowing that I got hundreds more sunrises waiting for me; that the worst is over, like Rick said. The morning is as fresh as peeled summer fruit, and it's all ours. I'm reminded of special breakfasts on our old porch, where my Uncle Merle and my Dad would be scooping burnt scrambled eggs into their mouths, and I'd be in Dad's lap, sipping on a box of orange juice. We had them whenever I won an award at school. I feel like I've won every award in the world.

Glenn is the one sitting next to us, now, in this new version of day-break. He fills the outline of where a ghost of a brother and an Uncle used to be. We're sharing a secret bag of old freeze-dried cherries, while everyone else sleeps. They're a small luxury, like the sun. We can make happiness out of anything.

It all feels right.

"One hundred percent mold free, this time. I swear," Glenn says, ripping the bag open and pouring me the first cherries.

"They better be," Dad jokes. "First time was free."

"Next time, you'll beat my ass?" Glenn guesses.

He looks like he's realizing his legacy is always gonna be the guy who can't make jerky.

"Damn straight."

We knock our plastic bowls together, smiling.

"To Harley."

"To Harley."

"To me!"

"What a mess this whole thing was." Glenn shakes his head, chewing. "I know I already said it, but... I'm really sorry."

"Ain't your fault you can't cook." I giggle.

"Gee, thanks." He laughs. "I guess I deserve that."

"Just learn to salt the damn meat, China." Dad says. "Then we can talk."

"Okay, okay, okay." Glenn puts his hands up, but he's still grinning. "I suck at cooking. I get it. Are Dixons always this mean?"

Me and my Daddy answer, yes, at the same time.

"Good to know." Mumbles Glenn.

"The night I got scratched," I muse, my fingers painted with crayon-red cherry juice. "You was the first person after my Dad to reach the tent."

I remember people saying that Glenn could outrun a cheetah if there were enough supplies behind the finish line. The thought makes me laugh again. When you ain't big, you gotta find other ways to elbow your way through danger. Sometimes a good brain and better legs are all you need. Sometimes people like me and Glenn get to win, too.

"I guess so." Glenn's smiling shyly. "But only because Rick was too busy reloading. And Shane was up the back. And, well, I guess— When we first got back to camp, people were saying that you were gone. That you were missing, or dead, or— We didn't know. Your Dad, he just took off into the woods. Just, vroom, y'know? Like, gone. I thought if I was gonna be like anyone, it should be him. So, I went running, too."

Dad leans over and grips Glenn's shoulder; shakes it. A gesture that says, Man to man, I respect you. Maybe even, Brother to brother.

It takes a lot to earn my Dad's respect, if you ain't his blood.

"You all looked like you was boutta faint." I snicker, 'cause it's funny now.

"W-we all thought it was too late." Glenn tries to laugh. It's been hard, I guess, bottling up that night until now. "When we first saw the tent."

I see flashes of wet eyes, and teeth, and spiders.

"I did too," I confess.

My Dad turns me around in his lap, then, and bounces his knee a little. "But I woulda never let that happen, chicken, y'hear? And I ain't never gonna let that happen. I'd have to be dead, 'fore a walker laid his hands on you." He frowns, looking me dead in the eye.

"I hear." I nod. "It was just really scary."

"C'mere, babe."

He pulls me down to his chest — his heart — and I curl up there, where I know nothin' will ever get me.

"For the record, I was about to faint." Glenn mutters.

I throw a cherry at him and he dodges it, grinning.

"I knew it!"

We all sit like this for a long while, with the sun and the rustling wheat as our friends, snacking on our sour fruit. Then they start talking again, a notch deeper, a notch outta my league. Adult to adult. I realize they must think I'm asleep — It is the ass-crack of dawn, after all — so I don't interrupt.

"I didn't mean it like that, you know." Glenn tells my Dad. "You can protect your own. I get that."

"Don't tell me what I already know, kid."

"I just..." Glenn starts, but then there's nothing.

In this long moment, I think Glenn is going to leave down the ladder, 'cause it's what anyone else would do.

People like me and my Dad — People who hoard supermarket coupons, and talk real nasty, and get called hillbillies — don't mix well with people like Glenn. People pretend there isn't, but there's an invisible cut-off on who deserves what in life, and it ends right after people who only gotta work one job. Glenn's smart, and he prolly ain't never had to go hungry to pay his water bills, not once in his life. He prolly ain't never been to jail, or snapped a squirrel's neck, or re-used the same bottle of hand soap forty times over. He's like the rest of 'em. Rick and Lori. Shane. The kids in my old classes. Their parents on parent-night. We can work well together but anything else is askin' too much.

But we're family now, right? I think Glenn might leave, but—

"Well, for what it's worth, I couldn't do it." Is all Glenn says.

He doesn't leave. In fact, I hear him settling further into his chair. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.

My Dad pauses. "Do what?"

"Look over my shoulder all the time. Worry about someone else every time I hear a gunshot. Walk around knowing I have that much to lose." Glenn sounds lost in thought, but then he surfaces. He ends his list with a simple, "Be a parent."

My Dad sighs, debating whether or not to go along with this.

"That ain't all there is to it." He eventually says.

"No?"

"Nah. It ain't some curse." Dad says. "I hear a gunshot? Sure, first thing I'm thinkin' 'bout is Harley. But that's the way it's meant to be."

"I just don't think I'd be able to handle it." I imagine Glenn gazing out at the sky. "These past few days have been stressful enough."

"Yeah, well that's why I got a kid 'n you don't." Dad's being a bit of a smart-ass. Then, he answers seriously. "You got a kid? You gotta be ready to die for 'em. But it ain't just sittin' around, waitin' to do it. It's the opposite. Every day I wake up, and I do it for her. I do everythin' I do for her. After that baby's born, who you were, what you liked doin', any plans you had — That's over. Suddenly, yer life ain't the most important thing you got, no more."

I've never heard my Dad talk like this. I wish our lives were worth the same, but I guess it don't work that way.

"And who were you?" Glenn asks, knocking back a cherry. "Before Harley?"

"A nobody. Drunk bastard with drunk-bastard friends." Dad scoffs.

"Well... That's good, then?" Glenn's guessing. "Sounds like she changed you for the better, man."

I can't imagine my Dad being anybody other than my Dad. The day I came into the world, so did he. There's nothin' before that.

"It's hard." Dad admits, prolly for the first time ever, to Glenn. "I love 'er, but it's hard as shit. Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out."

"You must have been going crazy during... everything."

"Oh, you think?" Dad jokes. "You ain't seen me fuck up that walkie?"

Glenn bursts out laughing. "It hit the RV when you threw it out the window. Scared the shit out of Dale."

I have to try really hard not to laugh. I'm meant to be pretend-asleep!

"You got any nieces, or anythin'?" Dad asks.

"No." Glenn answers. "My sisters were either too interested in their careers to have kids, or... Too young."

Glenn's sisters aren't here. Blood does everything it can to stay together. Dad taught me that. That means his sisters are both young and dead.

"That's gotta be tough, man." Dad sighs.

"No, it's alright. Sometimes I can pretend they're out there, together. Happy." He pauses. "What about you? Nieces? Nephews?"

Dad actually laughs a little. "Fuck no. Not from my side, at least. Guy like my brother ain't meant to spread his seed around. Ain't right."

Glenn starts laughing, too. "I guess not."

"Nah, Harley's my only girl." My Dad says. I feel him start playing with the end of my ponytail.

"You know, when you first showed up in camp, I thought she was Merle's." Glenn says, then quickly, "No offence."

"No shit?" Dad scoffs.

"No shit. I thought you looked too young to have a kid."

An unspoken joke makes them both laugh all over again.

"Yeah, well, I was real busy in my teen years."

I got no idea what that means, but it must be funny. Their conversation tapers from chuckling into a warm silence, and then it's just us and the sun again. It clips over a candy-colored cloud, and I can hear car doors opening and shutting, and loud yawns from down below. We're gonna be on the road again soon. I might not need a cure anymore, but we still need water, food, and walls, and the CDC's got it all. I hear someone shouting, alright, people, time to start heading out, and then a whole bunch of shuffling. The day isn't just ours, anymore.

My Dad stretches, groaning, and I pretend to be woken up by it.

He pinches my cheek. "Look who's here."

"Hey, Harley." Glenn smiles, packing up. "You enjoy the cherries?"

"Uh-huh," I smile back. "Thank you."

"No problem." He says. "There's actually some left over, if you want it."

He holds out the bag while I dig my hand into it.

I think it's funny how me, the man who made me, and the man who almost killed me are all friends, now. I learnt in science class that the more pressure you put on a rock, the more compact the molecules get. I think we're the molecules. It's bittersweet.

"Not too many." Dad warns. "You're still sick, remember? Don't want you messin' up my truck again."

"I remember," I promise, shoving a handful of cherries into my mouth. I also remember him sayin' he don't give a damn 'bout the truck.

Someone shouts out the radio channel again.

"Time to see this thing through, then." Rallies Glenn, but he looks nervous.

We say goodbye to the sunrise.

"Dad, is that—?"

"That's the CDC, alright."

We reach it by early morning. It's a monster of a building. It's like a big, white buoy in the middle of the ocean, saying, Come here, I'll keep you afloat. We ease to a stop and then we just look at it, 'cause it's all we can do. The CDC, right before our eyes. It's really there.

"It's bigger than I thought." I think aloud.

Dad just grunts, wary. "Stay close to me."

Our new walkie chimes, and Rick speaks to everyone when he says, "This is it, people. Leave your things. We're gonna walk up."

Why does the air feel so cold?

My Dad pulls both me and his crossbow out the truck, and then the whole group — one tired, beaten, hopeful force — are slowly making our way to the building. We walk through a silent field. I wish it could speak to us; tell us what it's been through.

We pass torn bags of sand and littered bullet shells. I think there's something here that we're not seeing, not yet, like a sleeping beast at the back of a cave, and when we find it, we're gonna be sorry we ever looked. We weave through big, black piles of clothes. The clothes are full, I realize. Full of hands, and legs; all white, all dead. They're bodies. They still have their human faces; they're still them, just dead, and they're studded with the bullets that the shells came from. The story tells itself, on behalf of the ghosts. They give their blood back to mother nature, dripping into the grass. I gasp. From head to toe, I go cold. My Dad shields my face, but I've already seen 'em. They're already nightmares.

Rick leads us. He leads us past trucks and barriers and blockades. Every sign the universe gives him to turn back, he ploughs through, chin up.

Maybe he's brave. Maybe he's stupid. Maybe he was designed to be both. Maybe we're walking to our deaths.

Nobody speaks. If they do, the bodies might wake up, and the graveyard we're intruding on will realize it doesn't want us here.

A crow squawks from its post on a dead soldier's helmet. If I spoke bird, I'd hear, Turn back.

We have to do this. It's what everyone's thinking, as they manage one foot in front of the other. Just one more step, and after that, just one more step. I take in the group, 'cause they ain't dead, and it's a little less awful to look at.

Morales, rifle up. Eliza, Louis and Sophia, three baby ducklings under their Mommas' shaking wings. Dale and Shane, polar opposites but in this moment, exactly the same; with their steely gaze and steady hands. Jacqui and Andrea, holding hands; two girls in women's bodies, walking through a world that wants to eat them. I catch Carl's eye. He catches mine, over the violence spread out before us. I watch him send me a thumbs up, which does nothing but turn me colder — colder than ice, colder than I've ever been — before my view is blocked for a second time, by Glenn. I'm sandwiched in; hidden, protected. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope I'll get to open them again. My Dad leads me by the shirt over the grass. I trust him.

My shoes hit something tougher, louder — Cement. Rock? Our footsteps echo, now. Are we really in a cave?

It goes double-dark, through my eyelids. Please don't leave us, I beg the sun nicely, We need you.

I squeeze my Dad's hand. He squeezes back.

Then I hear a rumble, like thunder, and I peek out from behind my Dad. It's Rick, banging on roller shutters. We all clench closer together, a fist ready to fight. Nobody does it on purpose, but me and all the other kids are pushed toward the middle. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Rick goes from one door to another to another, until he's shook down the entire row.

Guns are raised. We step back, together.

It's like knockin' on doors on Halloween. We don't know what creature's gonna answer. Maybe nobody.

"Anybody home?" Glenn mutters.

We stretch our silence for as long as we can stand it. There is no answer.

Newly determined, or maybe offended, or scared, or maybe all three, Rick beats down all the doors again like he hates 'em.

"Hey!" He calls out. "Whoever's in there, open up!"

"Nobody's here, man!" T-Dog shakes his head, but he ain't got no proof.

"Then tell me why you think all the damn shutters are down?" Rick snarls, and it's like we're in the parking lot again, and I'm scared.

And I should be.

"Walkers incoming!" Shane shouts.

Suddenly, my Dad and Glenn are whirling the other way, facing our new enemy. I grab onto the back of Dad's belt, and when I peer out between their elbows, I see one, two, six, twelve dead bodies lumbering to their feet, all dressed in military green, and dented helmets, and layers and layers of crusty black blood and loose skin. The other kids start to cry, but not me. I can't cry, 'cause I can't breathe. I hear a slicing fwip, and then one of the dead soldiers drop to the ground like the only thing holding him up were strings. An arrow marks his second deathbed.

"We can't fuckin' stay here, Rick!" My Dad's yelling. "You led us into a death-trap!"

I'm grabbing onto the back of Glenn's shirt, now, 'cause my Dad's stomping off to confront Rick and Shane. I hide my nose in my knuckles. Death-trap, I'm panicking, Death-trap. A week ago, I'd be standing here alone, but I got Glenn now. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I got Glenn.

"Glenn, I'm scared." I whine to him, and there it is, I'm crying. I think of happier things, like cherries and the sun.

"I— I know." Glenn puffs, 'cause he's scared, too. "I know."

He lets me grab his hand. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.

"Death trap or not, we're here for a reason!" Dale's arguing. "Rick made a call! We all did!"

"You want us to phase through the fuckin' doors, old man?" Dad spits. "We're stuck out here! My daughter's stuck out here!"

"Running out of time here, guys!" Jacqui's worrying.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Are those gunshots, now? Bullets are last resorts. Last resorts are only for when you're gonna die. Are we gonna—?

"Are we gonna die, Glenn?"

"No." He hurries to answer, gripping me tighter. "N—No."

"We need to leave!" A woman — Carol? — cries.

"She's right." Lori. That's Lori. "This close to the city? It's too dangerous!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Fort Benning." Shane looks like he's 'bout ready to bolt, bouncin' from foot to foot. A trapped animal. "We can do it. It's still an option, Rick."

"Is it?" Glenn's shouting. "It's a hundred twenty-five miles away!"

"No fuel? Two sick kids?" Morales is shakin' his head, no, no, no. "It's impossible!"

What do we do? No, no, no. We can't leave, but no, no, no, we can't stay, neither.

"What do you wanna do, then?" Shane argues back. "What you wanna do?"

"That's it! We're done here!"

My Dad shuts the whole thing down with one angry shout, locking his hand around my wrist. He tugs me away, and for a moment, the group is tugging itself along behind us, back to the street and the cars. We're a unit again — in the wind, goin' anywhere; scared, flimsy. We take one step, and then two, and we make it all the way back to the grass, before—

"Wait!"

It's Rick.

He ain't budged. Brave or stupid? Is he nuts?

"The camera." He tells us, breathless. "It moved."

All three.

"You imagined it." Dale decides, 'cause he'll say anything to get Rick to move. "How could it have moved?"

It's a lost cause — a last-ditch attempt.

The arguing re-ignites. I hide myself again, 'cause I'd rather be anywhere else.

Rick's shouting that he saw it, he saw the camera move, and his voice hits the concrete and closes in on us, just like the field. Fwip. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each burst of noise is a ticking hand on a dyin' clock. The bodies are picking themselves up faster than we're dropping 'em. Glenn's got a knife out, now, and Shane's pleading with Rick, who's gone nuts, Man, listen, the place is gone, it's gone, it's gone, it's gone. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Fwip. Bang. Crying; shrieking, from me, from the other kids, from Lori, and Jacqui, and the air as it's cut in half by bullet after bullet after bullet. Please, we have two sick kids out here, someone's begging.

"You're killing us!" Rick tells the camera. "You're killing us!"

My Dad fists the back of my shirt and he's pullin' me away, stronger than before. I think he's saying, Fuck it, we can make it on our own; leave the bastard. This must really be rock bottom. We were on our own for weeks. He must be thinking that we can do it again. I can see Glenn struggling to decide whether he should stay with the group or follow his feet, which are already trying to run after me and my Dad. I see Jacqui doin' it, too, and then Andrea, and then Carol.

A body topples over in our path, arrow up its nose. This is chaos.

Cherries and sunlight. Cherries and sunlight.

Then—

Behind us.

A gentle rumble, rumble.

We all whip around.

The doors — They're opening. They really are.

Even Rick looks like he can't believe it. We watch them open, mouths agape, like a bunch of idiots — A portal, to another world.

At first, we think there's a catch. Nothing comes without a catch. Do we go in?

But then there's another bang, and we're reminded that we're as good as dead if we stay out here any longer. We're on the move again, but this time, we're walking into the big, white mouth of the big, white monster, praying, Please don't be worse than it is out here, please don't make us regret this. We stay close together as the doors roll back down, sealing us in. We can breathe again, but only slightly. Would I rather take my chances with the dead soldiers, or with the unknown? I'm not sure. Now it's really happening, I don't think any of us are.

"Electricity." Jacqui whispers in cautious wonder. Electricity is like a myth.

Rick nods toward an archway. "Let's keep moving."

We trickle into the belly of the beast — Down a hallway, and into a lobby with the tallest damn ceiling I ever saw. Papers are thrown all over the floor and the computers at the reception desk are all upturned, but it's pin-drop silent. It's like being in a museum for an old extinction event.

"Hello?" Rick calls out, and if there's a scary creature in here, I sure hope it eats him first. "Who's in here? Who opened the doors?"

The silence answers.

"I did."

I jump outta my skin. Dad gets himself in front of me, but I peek around his waist. There's a man at the top of the stairs. He looks like he's been here for a long, long time. Like those lonely boys in Lord of the Flies, where they'd been on an island for so long that they started going a little crazy. He's wearing a regular t-shirt. I wonder where his lab coat is, if he's a scientist. This is a building for scientists.

"What did you mean by 'sick'?" The lonely-crazy-man calls down to us. "You said you had two sick kids. Is anybody infected?"

The whole group hardens at this question. They all glance back at me. I can see our journey in their eyes.

Rick's smiling, and this time, it looks right.

"You don't know the half of it." He turns back around, chin up, like always. "No. Nobody's infected. Thank God."

Dad puts a hand my shoulder.

The scientist doesn't share the same enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure He's around, anymore." He muses, vaguely sad. Then, "Why are you here? What do you want?"

I've never been good at words, but Rick is, 'cause he comes up with the perfect answer. One he knows we'd all agree on.

"A chance."

And maybe some water. After all we been through, that can't be too much to ask. We must look like a pathetic, begging mess, 'cause that's what we are. I know I am. My hair's made outta knots and grease, just like Lori and Andrea's. We're covered in beatings from the road, like bruises from Jim's fists and eyebags from sleepless nights. We left our quarry for this. We left our fish, and our tyre swing, and we left Jim. This can't be for nothing.

The man, who stands high above us, a judging eye, takes us in. "That's asking an awful lot, these days."

All Rick can say is, "I know," and pray it works.

I think of wet eyes, teeth, and spiders while we wait for his decision.

"You'll submit to a blood test." The scientist tells us. "That's the price of admission."

A breath leaves us all.

"We can—" Rick's nodding. "We can manage that."

That's it? A blood test?

I find myself grinning, and I tug on my Dad's hand. We look at each other. He's smiling, too, just a little. We all are. The scientist doesn't know it, but he's just saved our lives. We're tired and we're dirty and we've been through Hell these past couple days, but a blood test — We can manage that. We can manage anything.

"I left one door open. If you have stuff to bring in, do it now." He says, from his perch. "Once these doors shut, they don't open."

We tell him we understand.

This place is like a magical castle.

After we give up our blood, the scientist takes us on a tour. 

Jacqui was right. We got electricity. But apparently, we also got hot water.

If electricity's a myth, then hot water is a damn hoax. I can't wait to have a shower tonight. I used to hate showers, but that's just one of them things now that I can't believe I ever hated, like spinach. I been so hungry before that I'd dream about spinach. Glenn and Lori groan like they've bitten into a big, juicy steak when they hear 'bout the showers, and we all laugh. When I ask him, the scientist says that he isn't wearing his lab coat because he only wears it to make himself look cool. He says that now that we're here, he'll have to put it back on. It makes me giggle.

I run ahead with the other kids, and we all reach a long line of doors, where the scientist says we'll be staying.

The tour is complete!

We all pick rooms to stay in and then we unpack, like we're in a hotel, and it's exciting. None of us have been to a hotel in years.

"Hey, Harley!" Sophia pops her head out the next room over, holding a bar of soap. "Look! Soap!"

I hold out mine. "I got one, too!"

Behind Sophia, Carl pops his head out. "Me too!"

And behind him, like two little owls, Eliza and Louis appear. "Us, too!"

We dash back into our rooms. Me and my Dad's room got two double beds, and I ain't never had a double bed before, so I climb on it, and I jump up and down to test it out. It don't even squeak or nothin'. Dad watches me from where he's emptying one of our back packs.

As I try touch the ceiling, I tell him, "This place is awesome!"

"Harley, come down from there 'fore you crack yer head open." He orders, like a party-pooper.

I do what he says, 'cause I don't wanna ruin the day by getting spanked. "I'm gonna have a real-life shower."

"That's right." He shakes out the yellow shirt with the dinosaurs on it. He chucks it at my head, smirking. "Get ready, then."

I grab the brush that Sophia's letting me use first and a pair of purple pyjama pants from my Dad. I take myself into the bathroom. At first, the water's like straight lava on my skin, and I yelp. Dad asks if I'm alright, and then he comes in to fix the water for me. The lava settles back down, and I scrub and wash and sud myself up until I'm almost as red as a lobster. It's the best shower I've ever had. I was getting so sick of using baby wipes and river water to wash myself. When I step out of the real-life shower, the whole room is steamed up. I draw a smiley face into the mirror just 'cause I can, and then I brush out all my hair. I smell like strawberries. I dress in my cozy pyjamas and socks.

When I come out, my Dad re-does my buttons, 'cause apparently I did 'em all wrong. I stand between his knees while he re-orders 'em.

"He said there's a games room here." I smile.

"Maybe you can scope it out after dinner." Dad says. "You gotta be hungry by now, right?"

"Oh, I forgot 'bout dinner!" There's just too many wonders to keep track of in this place! "We gotta hurry!"

My Dad loops the last button.

"Come on, come on, come on!" I nag, pulling him off the bed and out the door.

"Damn." He chuckles. "People are gonna start thinkin' I ain't feedin' you."

"I bet there's gonna be steak!"

This is the best day ever.

We reach the CDC's little cafeteria, which is in total darkness to save energy, except for a spotlight above the biggest table. Makes it feel even more special. I hear clinking forks and plates, and I think these are the two happiest days I've ever had. Me and Dad take seats next to Carol and Sophia. As potato salad — Yes, potato salad. That's almost as good as soap — and greens and meat get passed around, I'm reminded of our fish fry. My Dad is here with me to enjoy it this time, and there are walls to protect us, instead of trees. We're clean. We're safe. We're alive.

"Just tell me when." Carol tells T-Dog as she pours him some wine, while everyone is getting settled in at the table.

Carol pours for a long time and T-Dog does not say when.

People start laughing.

T-Dog gives in and goes, "Okay, when, when, when."

"Thought I was gonna be there all night." Carol scoff-chuckles, sitting back down.

When I look around, I see one big family having dinner together, and I see people I'd almost forgotten about under all that dirt.

"Hey, after the past few days we've had, I think we deserve it." Rick's smiling, holding up his hands.

"I'll say." Lori snickers.

Dale suddenly stands, glass in hand. "How about we dedicate this meal to Harley?"

Rick puts down his napkin. "I think that's a perfect idea."

I giggle under all the attention as everyone rushes to agree, finding their glasses. I hide my face behind my Dad's arm. He peels himself away, smirking, and everyone's got something to say about my red face when I'm no longer hidden. I smack Carl when he tells me I look like a tomato, and everyone's doubled over with laughter, again. It's my favorite sound ever, I decide.

Before we can toast, my Dad butts in.

"Hang on. Old man, how's about that watch you carry around?" He asks. "It got a date on it?"

"I wish," Dale smiles, "But the battery died yesterday. Why? Is there something I'm missing?"

"I reckon it's almost July, right?" Dad looks around.

Is he gonna say what I think he's gonna say?

I start grinning.

Rick nods, "I reckon so. It's probably been about a month since everything went down."

"Harley was born in July. Twenty-second. Eight years ago. Ain't that right?" Dad ruffles my hair, and I giggle, 'cause I'm just so full of happiness that I feel like I'll never be anything else again. He raises his glass; wraps a hand around my shoulders. "Close enough, am I right?"

"Absolutely, that's close enough!" Lori shouts, clapping her hands; rushing for her glass. "My God, this is perfect!"

"We got ourselves a birthday dinner, here, people!" T-Dog whoops, raising his, too.

Rick lifts his glass above his head, and it's official. "To the birthday girl!"

"To the birthday girl!"

Clink, clink, clink.

More cheering. Two toasts in one day. I must be the luckiest girl in the whole, wide world. I bump my glass of water into Dad's glass on my right, and Sophia's on my left. After the scare with the scratches, this celebration means ten times more than a regular birthday would. There's no cake here, or number-candles, but I don't need any of that to make this moment special. I got Glenn singing an off-key Happy Birthday, and I got Jacqui giggling, God, shut that boy up, and I got Sophia hugging me, and I got another year and a whole lotta more days I get to live, with everyone at this table; with my Dad. And when Rick leans over the table, I even let him give me a high-five!

"Eight." Rick raises his eyebrows at me while he sits back down, pointing at me. "Almost double digits."

"You're almost my age!" Grins Carl.

"Good luck." Lori dramatically whispers to my Dad.

He gives me a look. "Listen to me, you ain't allowed to grow any more after this, okay?"

I can't help if I grow!

"Okay, Dad." I laugh. "I promise to be eight forever."

"Good girl." He says, gulping down more wine.

"Hold up." T-Dog sticks his palm out. "This is a birthday party. You know what that means, right? We need to hear at least one embarrassing story."

"Good idea." Jacqui gasps.

Dad makes a big show of scoffing. "Damn, which one you want? I got thousands."

What a traitor!

"I mean, we have all night, here." Shane shrugs, grinning like a little smart-ass. "I'm up for a story-time. How 'bout y'all?"

"Let's hear it," Morales gestures at my Dad.

"Alright." Dad sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. I try leaning over to cover his mouth, but he bats me away, and everyone is already laughing and the story ain't even started yet. "How 'bout— Okay. Okay. Damn, this is a good one. 'Bout when she was five, we bought Harley this skateboard—" Everybody's going, Oh God, 'cause they see where this is going. "Uh-huh. We took 'er down to the skatepark near our house, and there was a bunch of other lil' kids there — 'bout her age — and I'on know how she did it, but these kids were all convinced she was this master skater who was gonna show 'em how it's done. She was coachin' 'em, I think. Showin' off her new board. End of the day, she finally goes to show 'em a trick — 'Member, first day at this damn park — and everyone's watching and—" He claps his hands, smack. "Falls flat on 'er fuckin' face, in front of all of 'em."

Ugh, why'd he have to go and tell that story?

Rick covers his mouth 'cause he's trying not to laugh, 'cause I guess he values whatever dignity I got left but Shane, he's clappin' and trying not to spit his food out, 'cause he's actually a big smart-ass. I'm laughing behind my hands, like Sophia. Glenn's resting his forehead on the table, and he's shakin', so I guess he's laughing, too. When he sits upright, he's crying, and Jacqui's gotta beat his back 'cause he's choking a little bit.

"I'm alri—" He coughs. Then he keeps laughin', which makes it worse. "I'm alright."

"Hey, I ain't even fall that bad!" I defend myself.

He chugs Jacqui's water to save himself.

"Wait—" Lori's chuckling. "Five years old?"

"Yep," Dad goes back to eating. He's satisfied with the damage he's done.

"Pretty brave for that age." Lori tells me, putting on an I'm impressed face.

"Damn, that's pretty bad." T-Dog's shaking his head. "Sorry, girl, but I'm glad I asked, 'cause shit!"

"Leave the poor girl alone." Carol giggles, quietly.

Shane looks off into the darkness, pretending there's a crowd. "Anybody got a skateboard?"

"Oh, shut up." Andrea smiles. "Settle down, or Lori's gonna have to pull that photo out."

"May I ask a question?"

We're all so isolated in this pocket of happiness, celebrating the end of our troubles, that when the scientist speaks, I think we're all a little spooked. Smiles freeze and fade. Glasses lower. Heads turn. We're not the only people in the world, we're all realizing. We'd forgotten all about the reason we came here. That's what potato salad does to people, I guess.

The conversation dies off like a guillotine sliced it in half.

"What were you going to toast to?" The scientist asks, and his voice is like a soft, chilly breeze in a forest. I'm not even sure he was sitting there the whole time. Maybe he's supernatural, and he teleported. That makes me scared. "Before you figured out it was her birthday?"

And just like that, the dinner turns awkward. 

Rick clears his throat. "Well, if I'm being completely honest, here, Harley is the reason we came out to the city in the first place. I know I told you that nobody here was infected, but there were a couple days where... we weren't sure. Harley got scratched. We left looking for a cure."

The scientist's eyes roam over to my face, but then they don't leave.

"Now we're on the subject," Shane decides to break the silence, frowning, "How about you tell us what exactly happened here, doc?"

Rick mutters, "We don't have to do this right now, Shane."

"Wait a second." Shane sighs. "You said it yourself, just now. This is why we came all the way out here, right? Figure out what happened? Put all our eggs in one basket, and uh—" He laughs a laugh that tells me nothing is funny here. "Instead we found him. We found one man, talking in riddles. Why is that, you think?"

The scientist tanks the insult. "When things got bad, people just... left, to be with their families. The rest bolted."

I remember just how shocked I was at the size of this building when I first saw it creeping up the windows. It's way too much space for one man. There must have been hundreds of scientists working in here, and now it's just a shell. A cave for a lonely monster.

"Every last one?" Shane whispers, squinting; disbelieving.

The scientist falters, for just a moment, and I can see old pains on his face. "No. Some couldn't face leaving. They... opted out."

The tables goes from quiet to silent. Opted out. I know what that means. It's another one of them things adults say to butter up the truth, and it means killing yourself. I squeak, then, like I've been kicked in the ribs. I hide behind my Dad, who cradles the back of my damp hair, but you can't hide from words once they're in your head. Suicide. Dead, but not an accident — On purpose, with pills, or a gun, or a— a— a bridge. Something snotty gets caught in my throat like a fish-hook, and I'm crying now, at my own birthday dinner. Somebody drops their fork in defeat.

"There was a rash of suicides." Mutters the scientist, immune to his own story; numb. "In a matter of days, I was alone."

"Why didn't you leave?" Asks Andrea.

Carl is crying too, now. I wish I could make him feel better, just for a moment, but I can't.

"I just kept working." Smiles the scientist, but it's not right— It's just muscles, pulling his droopy face upward. "I just wanted to do some good."

Good.

The word reaches up into the ceiling, and leaves us at the bottom, sitting in its echo.

"There is no cure here." The scientist says.

The dinner is over.

Everything comes crashing down as fast as it went flying up.

We were on top of the world just a few hours ago. We were invincible. We had the news that I wasn't going to die in our veins, and then we had hot water and soap and potato salad, and each other. We had hotel rooms and a birthday dinner. But now we just have a dead end and a long list of regrets. There is nothing here for us besides showers, lights, and ghosts. I feel like a trapped animal. I'm a hamster in a maze, going around and around and around, and I can't get out. A rash of suicides. That thing I thought was hiding somewhere, it's this, and it's out, and I'm sorry we ever looked. Please don't let it be worse than it is out here, I remember, Please don't make us regret this.

After what feels like hours, the hallways I'm running down end. I see the game room.

I run inside and corner myself under the table. A cloth hides me from the world outside, and if I pretend hard enough, I can take myself right out of here and into a nice, safe pillow fort, instead. Like the ones I used to make back home. I can be someone else. If I'm in my head, I'm not here.

But then I hear the door open, and it's just a wooden table again, and I'm in the CDC.

"Harley?" It's my Dad, 'cause of course it is. I moan into my hands, crying so hard I'm not getting enough air. "You in here?"

I don't want to be found. I want to be lost.

The cloth lifts.

"Baby, what's wrong?" My Dad asks, but I know he already knows. How could he not know?

There are lots of words that remind me of my Momma, like sunshine, and cigarettes, and the worst — Suicide.

"Get out." I tell him, using my feet to push him away. "Get out."

I should've learnt my lesson back at the quarry, on that night I hit my Dad, but I don't care. I just wanna hurt something. I'm hurting. A rash of suicides. I can't stop hearing it, and I can't stop seeing it — Over and over again, the night on the bridge. Opted out. Suicide. Killing yourself. 

Pills, guns, ropes.

Bridges.

"Baby, I know." Dad's saying, grabbing my kicking feet. "I know. Come out. I don't want you thinkin' 'bout this, so come on out."

"I can't help it!" I sob, 'cause I really can't. Something that is too big for my body is happening to me, and I can't stop it.

"H— I know. Just come out." He's begging, and now he's not just holding my feet, he's pulling 'em; pulling me, out from underneath my hidey hole and into the world, even though I want to stay in here forever. He's trying so hard to bury something that's still alive; something that has teeth and jaws, and is eating me from the inside out. He don't wanna see it, and he don't wanna hear it, and he don't wanna deal with it. I wish he'd curl up in my make-believe pillow fort, and hide from the world with me. I wish he'd understand. "You don't gotta be under there. Come out, right now."

Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out.

He's getting angry again. He's holding himself back from something very nasty that lives inside him.

"No," I'm begging him back; begging him to just listen. "No, I don't wanna come out. I don't wanna—!"

I anchor myself to the table leg. We're an unstoppable force and an immovable object, colliding head on for the first time, ever, and it's a disaster. That night at the quarry was nothing.

Furious, my Dad rips the cloth off the table and boxes of puzzles go toppling over onto the floor, breaking into a million little pieces that used to be happily fused. Newly exposed, he easily ducks under and locks his hand around my wrist. I scream, and I close my eyes so I don't have to see my Daddy like this, 'cause it ain't him anymore. He pries my little fingers off the table, one by one by one, and ow, ow, ow, it really hurts. I'm yanked away, and then he's dragging me out by the ankles, shouting—

"Stop actin' like this. You ain't a baby." I hook myself onto a second leg, and he's wrestling with me all over again. "Stop! Mind yer damn father, girl!"

I'm not a baby, but I wish I was, 'cause we were happy back then.

"Stop!" I sob, kicking at him. "J— Leav— Just leave me alone!"

"I ain't leavin' you alone — You know why?" He's seething down to me. "'Cause you need a damn spanking. That's why."

I think back to an hour ago, when I thought I'd only ever be happy for the rest of my life. What a stupid thing to think.

Don't make it any worse, his voice is warning me, from all the times he's done this before.

But it can't get any worse.

In one big pull of strength, I'm forced out from underneath the table once and for all, where I felt safe and small and alone, into the light of the game room where I feel naked, again, for all to see. My face is raw and wet and hurt, and I think one of my buttons got torn off by my Daddy when he was grabbing for me, even though he was the one to fix them before dinner, and on that night in the RV, to show me he loves me. He yanks me to my feet by the armpits, 'cause I can't stand on my own no more, and he crouches to get in my face.

"This is your last fuckin' chance, and then I'm gonna have to take my belt off." He warns me.

"I miss Momma." I whimper.

His face softens, but it's gone so quick I'm sure I imagined it. "Harley," He grinds out, "Stop this."

"You killed her!" I cry, scared, but braver than I ever been at the same time. "You made Momma kill 'erself! You made 'er jump off that bridge!"

I tried so hard to be like my Daddy, but I can't. I can't hide things like he can.

I don't care if he belts me after. I just want him to know. I want him to know that I know, and that I ain't never gonna forgive him. I'd take a thousand beatings just so I could scream the same thing up at him, until my throat bleeds, until I'm nothin' but a voice, until my Momma comes back. People who kill themselves don't wanna come back, but maybe this time, if I was a good enough girl, she might want to. I'd get on my knees, and I'd beg her, and I'd say, Please Momma, I need you. Please Momma, please. Me and Daddy can't do it on our own. She didn't love my Daddy, and my Daddy hated my Momma. He never said it, but I always knew he did. I saw it when he dropped me off at her house; how he didn't wanna leave me with her. I heard people say my Momma was sick in the brain, and that she was a bad Mom, but I loved her.

My parents might be forever separated, but on my face, they are still together. I got my Daddy's flat mouth and my Momma's green eyes. I am proof that hate can create love. I don't feel so loved right now, though. I feel like I'm nothing. I feel like when my Daddy said he loved me, he was lying.

And there it is, my Daddy's hand going for his belt, 'cause I chose to say the worst thing I could think of.

I don't wanna get beat, but sometimes it don't matter what little girls want.

"I want you to think about the way you're speakin' to me." My Dad, the same one that was crying in my baby photo, shouts in my face. "I don't know why you gotta be like this, Harley. I don't know why you gotta make me do this. You were havin' such a good day."

"I'm sorry—" I'm sayin' now. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"You shoulda thought about that before you started bringing this shit back up again. After this, never again, okay?"

He pulls me down into his chest, yanking the back of my shirt up to the base of my neck. I wait for the whip, and the burning sting afterwards.

I can take it. I'll just close my eyes and wait for it to be over.

But before it can come—

"Woah! Hey!" A man's shout. "Hey, hey! Stop!"

The whip doesn't come. I can catch my breath. 

Under my Dad's arm, the one that's in the air, poised to beat me, I see a man in the doorway. I almost can't make him out, but there he is — It's officer Shane. The room seems to slap him in the face, like he can't believe what he's just walked into. He's scared to step inside, in case the moment breaks and my Dad chooses to beat me, anyway. Shane's a bastard cop, and it's his job to save people. I never thought I'd be needing saved from my Dad. I still don't think I need saving. I brought this on myself. I wish he'd go away, so it could be over with.

My Dad stands up, his whole body clenched with muscle ready to punch.

"I'm gonna ask you put that down, man." This is the first time I'm hearing Shane's police-man voice. "And to step away from her, okay?"

I feel embarrassed.

I'm kneeling on the floor, grabbing onto the side of the sofa, tryna hide myself again. I don't belong here. I don't want Shane to see me like this. I wanna be the little girl he caught frogs with, not a ball of hurt and tears. Suddenly, this isn't a games room anymore. It's a wolf's den, and I got two of 'em right in front of me, circling each other, ready to bite. I scuttle further into the corner, like if I shrink myself enough, I can just disappear into the floor.

"You ain't askin' me shit, officer." Dad whispers, real nasty. "Ain't no rules, no more. Not so tough, now."

"I'm not gonna ask you again, man." Officer Shane warns, stepping very slowly into room.

He moves toward us, inch by inch, like a man inside a lion enclosure.

"You don't gotta." Dad spits. "Door's right there."

"You're hittin' on little girls, now, Daryl." Shane huffs that mean laugh again. "Sorry, buddy, but that's my business. Come on. Step away."

If Shane had his gun in his holster, his hand would be on it. But we left all our weapons in the bedrooms before dinner. He stretches his fingers; tilts his head. I realize he don't need a gun. He's gonna fist-fight my Dad if he don't do what he says. My Dad, sensing this, chucks his belt on top of the broken puzzles, and stretches out his fingers, too. They're one wrong word away from beating each other to a pulp.

I wanna beg 'em to stop, but my voice is burrowed somewhere deep inside my body, and I can't reach it. 

"We don't have to do this, Daryl." Shane's half-way into the room, now. When did he get that close?

"Sure we don't." Dad snarls. "You gonna hit me? Go ahead."

Shane shakes his head. "That's not somethin' I wanna do, man. But you know I will. Step away."

A hiccup I didn't give permission to leave my mouth cuts through the room. Shane glances at me. I don't know who I'm supposed to root for.

"'Step away', huh? Step away from my own daughter?" My Dad scoffs.

Shane glances from me to my Dad, and I can see him start to realize that this angle won't work on my Dad. He holds out his hand. Something about the way he's looking at me is saying, You don't have to be afraid, but I am, and I don't wanna move. I feel like this is my fault. I watch as he flicks his fingers a little, brows raised. "How 'boutchu come over here, Harley, huh?"

Dad blocks me with his body before I can even think about it. "Hey, don't you fuckin' speak to her."

His eyes are back on my Dad. "Just tryna do what's best for everybody, here, Daryl."

My Dad cracks one of his knuckles. "Nah. Nah, I don't think you are. You got it all twisted."

"Don't think I do."

"Yeah?" Dad goads, and every second, I wait for one of them to swing. I can't stand it. "What is it you think you walked in on, then, huh?"

I think my Dad's waiting for the swing, too, 'cause he's so confident that he'll win that he wants officer Shane to try him. He wants to punish him. He wants to show him what happens when you insult a Dixon, 'cause protecting the name is more important than protecting his own body. I think about the way my Dad busted Rick's cheek; How Ronnie's Momma ain't recognise him when my Daddy was done with him.

Shane must be thinkin' the exact same thing, 'cause he starts goading my Dad right back.

"I think I walked in on you beatin' the shit outta your own kid, first of all." Shane shrugs, like it ain't his fault it's fact, and he keeps going when he notices my Dad's breathing get heavy. He's enjoying this. A smile splits his face. "I think we been worrying 'bout Jim this whole time, we been worrying 'bout the wrong man. How 'bout that? You wanted us to be so focused on him, we forget about the real monster."

"That right?" Dad side-steps Shane when he reaches the edge of the coffee-table.

"Sounds right to me, man." Shane says. "Lemme ask you this, Daryl. What is it you think I walked in on?"

I wonder where everyone else is. I wonder if at any second, one of them is gonna walk in.

"It don't matter what I think." Dad shouts, suddenly, and I shriek like I've been struck by the belt. "It's my damn business. It's my damn daughter."

"Yeah, I betchu wish it was." Shane huffs out a chuckle. "Don't want your secret gettin' out, right?"

Shane's like a wriggly little worm, needling my Dad where he don't wanna be needled.

My Dad's patience finally runs out.

He rears back to swing at Shane's head, and his fist is caught and twisted, and I hear Shane grunt in pain, and this is it, so I close my eyes—

Wait.

My eyes are open. That don't make no sense. Why is it so dark? Why can't I see?

I realize that the fight has stopped, and I feel like we've all forgotten about it and are waiting for something to happen.

There's a single murmur throughout the room.

"Was that the power?"

Author's Note.

Cliff-hanger! Mwahahha.

So, obviously, the last scene in this chapter is pretty brutal. I'd like to share why I made the decision to have Daryl act this way, because it could be a shock for some.

For starters, I think it's plausible for a number of reasons. Merle being a bad influence on Daryl, his unhealed childhood trauma and how that affects how he parents his child, and his unhealthy habit of bottling up his emotions, etc.

It's not pretty, I know, and I kind of hated writing that scene, but that brings up my second point. For the sake of the themes and arcs I want to give this story, it was necessary. This story just couldn't exist if it didn't have this scene. I've got, like, three different key subplots linked to it. Maybe you can even guess what they are, because two of them have been hinted at/set up already. They're only going to get more prominent from here on out.

So that's the explanation for anybody who wanted or needed it. You'll see all this play out in the coming chapters, anyway, but I just wanted to provide this in the mean time. :)

Rant over! Phew. Everybody take a sigh of relief.

On a more positive note, everything else in this chapter was a total joy to write! These poor guys deserve some happiness 😌

Hope you enjoyed reading, and as always, please consider sharing your thoughts! Sending love :)

[mrsnancywheeler]

my brain is still so fixated on billy taking his muse out for ice cream after a blow up fight….. it’s torturing meee ☹️☹️

like you’re so quiet the whole trip, drained from the yelling and crying and emotional rollercoaster billy always puts you on, but how can you still be upset with him when you’re in his car late at night with the warm summer breeze coming through the windows and soft rock on the radio and his hand on your thigh like he wasn’t just calling you the worst things in the world. your cheeks are still damp but you’re curled up in the seat with his discarded jacket wrapped around your shoulders, surrounded by the comforting smell of his cigarettes and cologne. he won’t even really look at you, but you don’t want to talk anyway. you know you could do better than billy dunne when he treats you so bad but it’s so much easier to fall back into his warm embrace, to fall asleep in his car, etc. </3

and then you’re at your ice cream place and he’s ordering for you because he knows your favorite flavor and exactly how you want it, so you don’t have to think about anything. you’ve had such a long night and just hearing the sound of his voice and feeling his hand in yours is enough. he takes you to the beach too as promised, and you feel so safe and warm leaning against billy with your heavy eyelids and ice cream and the waves crashing and the moon above that you’ve forgotten everything you were fighting about. at least until the next time he’s mad at you. sigh. swoon.

it's one of the times you're crying made him feel bad and he's not so out of it that it made him angrier. and you feel kind of numb sitting there except for the way hjs finger is rubbing up and down your thigh as his hand sits on top. sometimes you play with his hand or sleeve, but nothing is said. his eyes stay on the road, you kind've hate that you're letting him do this after all the the things he said and did. but his passenger seat feels like home, his presence feels like home.

he pats your leg when you arrive and opens the door for you by the time your hand is in the door handle he's opening it for you. smoking a cigarette as he puts his arm around your shoulder. he knows your favorite place to get ice cream, one that you can walk right down onto the beach from. the continued silence is kind of difficult, it makes you feel like you did something wrong, but he's not angry so it's okay. and when he's remembering all the little things you like, doing all the talking so you can just exist. and then you're walking down to the sand, looking at the water and the stars. he's sitting down, your head on his lap as he plays with your hair.

there's still silence for a while before he breaks it, "you know I care about you, right?" and there's a silence because he says that, but is this what it feels like to be cared about? "because I say a lot of things and I think it's just cause, I don't know, I'm scared"

"of what?"

"I don't know, that I'll tie myself down and then realize it wasn't the life I wanted and leave a wake of destruction behind me trying to escape it all. that I'll be like my dad."

there's so much you can say and you don't know what to go with. that he's already leaving a wake of destruction anyways? that you'll be waiting regardless? "you're not your dad, billy."

"how do you know that?" you respond with the only thing you can. kissing him, letting it say everything you don't feel strong enough to admit right now, that you love anyways, that you care enough for the both of you. and that you don't know, you have no fucking idea. and then your foreheads are pressed together and he's pressing kisses to the side of your mouth

[starter-library]

THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS LYRIC STARTERS feel free to change phrasing/pronouns as you see fit

“Musicals tell the impossible (impossible) They evoke the philosophical”

“Should we kill him?”

“What an ass! What a bitch! What a cuck!”

“The apotheosis is upon us”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“You gotta believe in something, [name], you piece of shit”

“[Name] you piece of shit”

“Sometimes I just wanna shout on top of roof and mountain tops”

“Yesterday is retroactive Got myself a new perspective”

“What the fuck was that?”

“I may not have a home but that's way okay”

“The world is my house, The dogs are my food”

“Uh, what's going on here?! I'm very confused and concerned by all this”

“Do you wanna save the planet?”

“What do you want, [name]? Tell me what you desire to see”

“So, what do you want, Paul? What's that one concrete goal that motivates all your actions?”

“I don't know, I want what anyone wants? Money, a partner? Kids, someday, maybe?”

“A man so vague just can't be trusted”

“D'you know what I want for myself? I've waited for so long to tell somebody else.”

“You're my muse, my source of light”

“[name] my love. I want you to choke me out at night”

“I want you to choke me while I jerk off”

“I'm gonna go get some coffee, do you want anything?”

“Get your cup of roasted coffee”

“Get your cup of poisoned coffee”

“You better empty out all of them pockets but don't empty out all of them pockets”

“Check your mirror, you'll find hell has arrived”

“Do the things I say, I'm a cop”

“Put in your mouth and suck it!”

“Oh, [name], please stop! I'm your wife, just talk to me, baby!”

“God, we were young once. Innocent and fun once and free”

“You tied up my heart, You tied me down”

“Now break me open with your love and mercy”

“[name], baby! Apple of my eye! Don't you trust me?”

“I've effed up, [name], effed up with you”

“Will you ever forgive me? I'll crawl on my hands and knees”

“Oh fuck, I'm fading fast, I think you better come quick”

“I really don't wanna die alone in here. Time to say our goodbyes at the end of the road”

“This body's not gonna last, the air is cold and thick”

“You brought me back from the dead, [name]!”

“The time for chaos is long past overdue”

“Death isn't optional in fact it’s optimal”

“Join us and die”

“We're gonna kick your ass and then we're gonna Fucking kick your ass”

“I'm not your girl anymore”

“You left me out of your sight for one second and look what happens, nightmare time”

“No matter what you believe The apple's fallen far from the tree”

“It's not my fault anymore”

“Did you know that I wanted to live with you?

“Why does it hurt to love you? Why am I in pain?”

“If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there?”

“A show stoppin' number is something you die for”

“This song's pretty good, huh? I bet you didn't know I was also a composer”

“I've also been writing my own musical…Do you mind if I give you the pitch?”

“But those glory days, they're gone for good…Or are they?”

“Business calls, I'm up to my ass in shit. What is this business?”

“Last weekend feels like ages ago”

“I can't wait to get home to my boys”

“Come on, [name] We've got some catching up to do”

“There's only room for right and wrong”

“You can't run”

“You're staring down the gun 'Cause you're easily disposed”

“Did you hear the word?”

“Is your heart so damp and bleak that you won’t give us a peek of your soul?”

“There's a voice inside of you on the edge of coming through”

“Am I dead? I’m coming apart at the seams!”

“I’ve never been happy wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Is my integrity worth anything at all?”

“Am I crazy? Maybe I’ve always been”

“What if I told you I made it and this is the life that I chose?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Don't you want to see me happy? Is it so tragically wrong?”

“We must go on with the show it's inevitable”

“I found my calling you can do the same now”

[gremlinwithapen]

Augusnippets Day #14: Gift

"Hello, Monsoon!" Circe grinned as she strolled towards the Selkie's quarters, reaching out to wrap on the door with her talons. She waited for the affirmative grumble that told her she could come in before opening it open and walking through.

"You'll never guess what I've got for you, my dear friend," it hummed, its secondary pair of wings held tightly against its underbelly to hide the prize grasped in its talons.

"Some peace and quiet, hopefully," Monsoon muttered as he raised his head, but his eyes held more mirth than malice. He rolled his eyes as she swatted them lightly with her tail, brushing her feathers out of the way.

"It's actually a bit of the opposite," it mused as it leaned back on its hind talons and extended its wings. It watched his expression carefully as it revealed its gift.

"It's a... bracelet?" They said as they stared at the gathering of metal beads held together by a coil of braided leather. They seemed more confused than disappointed, so she quickly jumped on the chance to explain before they could change their mind.

"It's a Harpy bracelet! Well, for us it's an anklet because we don't have large enough wrists, and obviously Selkie's can wear it too. It's just done in a style that we Harpys tend to use," she held out the jewelry for him to see, trying to keep herself from chirping nervously. "It's meant to chime as you move. That's why the beads are like that. We wear them over long flights with out flocks, so we make music while we soar.

"I know it's not the best because I didn't have the nicest of materials, and it might not fit quiet right, but I wanted you to have one. Think of it as a thank you for saving me a while back," it finished, dipping its head slightly as it offered its creation.

"Circe, this is..." Monsoon trailed off as he gingerly took the bracelet, as if he was afraid he'd break it. He just kept on staring at it, and she felt her heart sink.

"You don't have to take it, I can-"

"It's beautiful," they murmured, the look in their eyes unlike anything she'd seen before. "I don't even know what to say. Besides thank you, obviously."

"Don't mention it," Circe smiled, even as its tail swayed happily behind it from the praise. It watched as he slid the bracelet on, stomping his talons experimentally to hear the beads jingle together.

When she heard that sound, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time. She felt like she was a part of something again.

@augusnippets

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,410

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5. ⬇

Chapter 6.

Chapter 5.: Truths

"You're making me want to join with how relaxed you look."

Tav chuckled at the comment and closed her eyes again. She didn't want his hand to move away from her face, but at the same time... a part of her...

Gods, no! This was wrong! Everyone would think this was wrong - Gale, Karlach, even Shadowheart was indecisive at least when it came to Gortash. And Dame Aylin, Isobel? They'd surely crush his skull like how Aylin did it with Ketheric... crushed the very skull of villainy, she said to her lover once...

Siding with Gortash would only bring grief and sadness, but he was the first man who could make her feel safe - and seen. Who didn't judge her for breaking her Oath, who was open to talk about it, who saw her still as a Paladin, no matter how she always told him not to call her that anymore. He was the only one who didn't make her feel like a wretched abomination for being able to call on the power of the dead ever since she fell from grace. The ones she called friends avoided the topic like the plague while Gortash was trying to make her feel better about it. He couldn't be as bad as others made him be, right? Why not give him a chance? Everyone deserved a chance.

"Then join me." A mischievous thought occurred in her mind, and she couldn't help but say it out loud, "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

"Tempting", he mused.

She was still smiling and she still had her eyes closed, even when Gortash removed his hand from her face. The rustling of his clothes made her feel like her heart was beating outside of her body. Alright, alright. Let's give him a chance, see if he has anything good left in him. But she shouldn't get excited to have him naked next to her in the tub, right?

"Say a truth and a lie about yourself", Enver offered as he climbed in the bath. Not too close to her, but not far away, either. "But don't tell me which is which."

Tav furrowed her brows.

"You want to play mind games with me?"

"Hmm. Games like these keep one's mind sharp. And I want to learn more about you."

She glanced up at the moon as she was thinking.

"I keep making stupid mistakes, but I always come out on top."

"Hah." She could hear he was smiling. "On top. Sure."

She half turned to give him a mean look. He smiled back at her as he was resting at the other side of the tub; the gauntlets still on his arms, even here, resting both of his golden arms on the edges of the tub. Even like this… he looked… regal.

"Do you ever take those off?"

"Let's continue our game", he stirred the subject back and she huffed, turning forward to rest her chin on the edge again. "One lie, one truth."

"You first", she hissed between her teeth.

"Very well." He cleared his throat. "When we first met, I thought you'd kill me. I think you'll attempt it tonight, too."

"I'm not stupid", she rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see as she still had her back to him. "I'd never attempt to take you on without my friends."

Gortash chuckled quietly.

"As if any of you had a chance against me", he almost purred, making goosebumps raise on her back with the mere sound of his voice. A part of her hated how he could make her feel. A part of her enjoyed it immensely. "Let's spice it up a bit."

"Oh, because this is not spicy enough for you?"

"Tell me the hard truth about how you feel now."

Tav huffed.

"Fine. I feel fantastic." There was a hint of sarcasm in it, but Enver didn't mention it. "Okay. My turn. How are you feeling?"

"Worried." A short pause, and his voice grew quieter. "Enraged."

Her brows wandered up on her forehead.

"Enraged?" She echoed. "Why?"

"Because I'm wondering what's the hard truth... about the scars on your back."

A minute of tense silence. She gave him the chance to rethink it, to forget about it, but she had no luck; when he spoke again, his voice was eerily quiet and calm.

"Who put them there?"

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

How could he ask about it openly? How could she lower her guard thus? Not even Astarion... not like he cared... out of the two of them, he had the much, much more horrible past... she never even thought he'd care to ask, he had enough on his shoulders... even if he saw - and he had to, at some point -, he never mentioned it... perhaps he was waiting for her to open up about it on her own. She'd never know now.

And Gortash was asking about it at their third meeting. She didn't even think he'd care in the first place, let alone ask about it! Was he twisting the entire game to get an answer to this? Did he lure her into a trap?

Shit.

"I don't like this game."

"You'll have to tell me now. You agreed to play."

She shut her eyes and swallowed, shaking her head. A few seconds passed in silence before she took a breath and forced herself to answer.

"My... adoptive father."

A split second passed once she finished speaking, and Gortash asked his next question with no hesitation.

"Is he dead?"

"Hey, it's my turn to ask!"

"You can ask two, after you answer me this. Is he dead?"

Tav didn't dare to look back at him.

"He is", she whispered.

"Good." Gortash waited for her to ask her questions, but she remained quiet. Being thrust into her past she was trying so hard to forget wasn't a great experience. "Your turn, twice."

"Why do you care if he's dead or not?"

The silence stretched longer than she expected. Neither of them moved, the only sound was the crickets playing their song outside in the night.

"Because I was... am... tempted to hunt him down and make him suffer dearly for what he'd done to you."

She didn't expect this answer. She wasn't ready to absorb it. But it was what it was - a hard truth, real, honest. No pity, just a thirst for revenge. Vengeance.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"I don't need anyone to avenge anything that happened to me."

"I know."

She finally half turned to look him in the eye. His gaze was even darker than usual; making her feel like she was staring into the very eyes of an oncoming storm.

"Then why?"

Gortash didn't answer at first. He was looking back at her in a way that told her that he was thinking about how much he should say, if he'd say anything at all. She saw him swallow as he pushed himself away from the other end of the tub, shifting close enough for her to gently get a hold of her hand.

"What are you doing?" She mumbled as he moved her hand around, then behind himself.

"Touch me", he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Tav reluctantly touched him at the spot where he guided her hand, and she touched scars. He had very similar scars on his back as she did on her own; vertical tension lines that crisscrossed his skin as a reminder of the past, forever branding him by someone who once had power over him. She closed her eyes as her expression mirrored realisation, and he rested his forehead against hers.

"Because I know how that felt", he whispered.

Tav could feel the tears filling her closed eyes. She used her fingers to gently stroke the scars while her free hand moved to his face to cup his cheek. But she didn't look him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry", she whispered back. "You didn't deserve this pain."

Gortash remained silent as he pulled her closer to himself. His hands were stroking her scars, as she was stroking his; and despite the fact that her back was mostly unresponsive to physical touch because of the scarred skin, it felt good.

That was nothing though, compared to how good it felt when his strong arms pulled her even closer to him, and her breasts pressed against his chest. Tav almost… melted against his warmth, and Gortash smiled to himself. It was so… easy.

"One more truth", he murmured.

"Yes?"

"What would you do if I kissed you now?"

Tav half smiled and tilted her head; the tip of her nose playfully bumped against his.

"I'd kiss you back."

That was all the consent he needed. Tilting his head, he softly kissed her, but his desires quickly got the better of him when she reciprocated. Because no matter how he was trying to manipulate her not to betray him… no matter how much he was telling him not to… he was drawn to her, like a moth to the flame.

His hands slid down on her body, gripping and groping at her flesh and she moaned in his lips which stoked the fires within both of them even more. She needn't utter a word, he knew: she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her legs moved to wrap themselves around him, and he used one of his hands to guide himself into her soft folds. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned in his lips again as she lowered herself on his length; making Gortash grip her hips tighter.

She didn't want that moment to end. She wished she could stretch it out until the end of times. In that second, nothing else mattered, there was nothing else but him and his warmth – all around and inside of her.

When it became too intense, she had to arch her back and break away from his mouth, letting her beautiful voice fill the bathroom. She was moving, of course, but he helped her move in a way that he could tease all of her delicious spots both inside and outside of her. He was memorizing how her expression morphed into pure bliss as her nails dug gently into his shoulders, how she contracted around him, signalling she was close, desperate to reach her high.

He gave it all to her. All the needed friction, his touch, until she reached the peak, until she tensed and released and convulsed.

Hearing her moans and seeing her face was all he needed to follow her. To know that he could make her feel such a powerful bliss that made her muscles uncontrollably squeeze him dry – that was most gratifying.

Not being able to keep his eyes open any longer, he buried his face in her neck as they were trying to catch their breaths. Her nails released his shoulders; she gently wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his hair, running her fingers in his ebony locks at the back of his head, making him shudder lightly. Their hearts were beating a shared rhythm, together, until it slowed to their normal pace and their embrace became gentle.

He held her in his arms as if she was his world.

Until a sob gently shook her.

"What's wrong?" He murmured in her neck before he pulled away. Tav looked away, but she still had her hands entangled in his hair. She didn't want to let him go, but her thoughts were definitely elsewhere. He raised a hand to touch her face, to stroke her cheek, and with it, to stroke her tears away. "Tell me."

"It'll make you mad", she mumbled, embarrassed, and Gortash turned her head to force her to look in his eyes.

"You won't. I promise. Tell me."

Tav was biting her lower lip as she was trying to put her thoughts together. Sighing, she leaned more against his palm, then closed her eyes.

"You sold Karlach to a devil", she whispered, "and she trusted you. What's the guarantee you wouldn't do the same to me?"

Enver cursed inwardly. She was right; this definitely made him mad, and he quickly found himself wanting to scream. Her trust would never be unconditional when it came to him because of the past, because of what Karlach had told her, and he couldn't tell her the truth, because…

Because he wasn't allowed to.

His entire brilliant plan to turn her on his side would fall apart right here, right now.

When he said nothing and she looked in his eyes again, though, Tav immediately understood. The realisation dawned on her without him even saying anything, and even more tears filled her eyes at the thought. She knew how Wyll couldn't tell his own father about the things Mizora made him to do. She knew how Wyll needed Mizora's permission to even talk about his past. Why would Zariel be any different? In the end, every mortal life was just a pawn in the hands of the gods and devils. Even Archduke Enver Gortash.

"I'm sorry. I should've thought of this earlier… I should've known you weren't allowed to say anything about it", she whispered, sniffing a little, before she gently pecked his lips.

Gortash had absolutely no idea how did she figure it out, and he was shocked beyond belief at her acceptance after she realised the truth. Who in the world would show someone compassion – someone who dealt with devils? Her fingers ran across his scalp; soothing, calming any nerves that arose from her question. He still was inside of her; neither of them wanted to move, to leave – she wanted to remain wrapped in his embrace and he wanted to forget the rest of the world for as long as possible.

He'd only connected so deeply with one another before her, and he wanted to savour it. Who knew whether she'd survive the fight with Orin or not.

His arms tightened around her, and he buried his face in her neck again. He mustn't let his emotions get in the way. He mustn't have emotions at all in the first place. His plan must come together, no matter the cost and no matter his feelings.

For the greater good.

But at the same time…

He was about to do everything in his power to make sure she would survive it. She must.

[tokcshie]

1. My portrayal of the muses on this blog will be portrayed like original characters and with my own headcanons/ideas. Do not interact with this blog is that’s not your cup of tea .

2. Do NOT interact if you’re a minor or a personal blog, please. The posts on this blog are meant for roleplay purposes and roleplay only. My personal blog is open for any one of age to interact with. If you kindly ask, I do not mind sharing my personal blog. Please respect my wishes, thank you very much. I do not feel comfortable interacting with anyone who isn’t of age because I am older than 25. Please do not lie about your age. Lying about your age will result in a hard block. This blog will be interacting with mutuals only. Meaning I follow your blog, you follow mine. Please don’t take it personally as there are some fandoms I’m not familiar enough with to interact your blog if I don’t follow you back. Original characters are welcome and encouraged as long as have a bio up to work something out. But for now, the interactions will be limited to the demon slayer and/or the legend of Zelda verse. I’m also selective with who I follow back. If I follow you back, it’s because I’m interested to interact with you. I don’t follow blogs just to follow.

3. This blog will touch on dark topics such as death, murder, suicide and sexual themes. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, this may not be the blog for you. Regardless, I’m still going to include warnings just in case. If there’s any other things any of my writing partner would like me to tag, let me know. It’s important that you’re also comfortable.

4. Shipping. Due to some of these muses being canonically cruel to their partners, I’m still unsure whether if they’ll be open for shipping. It’ll definitely need A LOT of development if anyone would want to ship with demons. Do not be afraid to ask though like I said above, it’ll take a while for the ship to develop. Should we end up shipping eventually, any nsft content will be exclusively written only with the muses my characters are shipping with. No exceptions. I will NOT write anything sexual with characters who are canonically minors. For instance Sabito. I don’t care if I write an alternate universe where he lives, it’s just not going to happen.

* this blog will be multi ship but only with one version of a muse.

5. This is a zero drama tolerance blog so leave me out of the whole he said, she said stuff. Unless someone did something that's actually wrong, I don't want to hear it. Along with that, I won't be allowing any kind of hateful and/or problematic content. Absolutely NO RACISM, homophobia, pedophilia, or incest will be tolerated on this blog. If you condone such acts, you'll be blocked and reported. As a Hispanic person myself, this is a safe space for people of any background and identity.

6. My muses actions do not reflect my own. I cannot stress this enough that some of these muses are cruel and will stay that way. After all, they are demons. But if you’re uncomfortable at any point and you’d like to drop the thread, let me know. There won’t be any hard feelings.

7. Do NOT take my edits, headcanons, writings, metas, please. My portrayals are my own based on my own interpretations/headcanons. And I don’t take too kindly to my creativity being stolen and I’ll make it known so people can be aware. I’m not the best editor on here, but if you’d like something edited, just ask. Chances are that I might say yes.

8. Memes. I fully encourage my mutuals to send prompts/memes to break the ice. No matter how long ago I reblogged an rp meme list, please feel free to send ‘em my way!

9. Activity. My activity here will fluctuate. After all, tumblr is not a priority but rather a hobby. That being said, I also have another blog @devotedsheikah , where you can find me at. And on top of that, I have a big girl job which I love very much so sometimes I may be able to get stuff done, other times I’m just lurking. But just know that I’ll eventually get back to you. Just please, don’t hound me for replies.

* discord is also available upon request for mutuals only.

[he11fyre]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮 𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻

❀ 25, woman, only 20+ partners ❀ CEST timezone ❀ semi-literate ❀ multiple OC's ❀ romance centred plot, NSFW a must ❀

Hi tumblr,

I'm currently looking for someone who would be interested in starting an omegaverse roleplay with me. I am open to contemporary and more urban/high fantasy settings.

The omegaverse itself could either be soft ABO where humans have alpha, beta and omega designations that affects their personalities, appendages and urges, or it can be more of a shifter combination. Open for either and in between!

This world could either be a sort of sweet omegaverse where omegas are cherished, or a slightly darker world where they are viewed as belongings (with fewer rights, belong to their family or alphas etc.) and sold to the richest alpha packs.

I love omegaverse books. In case you're a reader, some of my favourite omegaverse stories are: ❀ Lola & The Millionaires by Kathryn Moon ❀ Manix series by Grace McGinty ❀ Breaking Our Rules by Sinclair Kelly ❀ The Seattle Omegas by Calliope Stewart ❀ Pack Darling by Lola Rock ❀ Slate City Omegaverse by Devyn Sinclair

Specifically, I want a roleplay with the following sort of vibes: ❀ nesting ❀ knotting/locking ❀ scent marking ❀ bonding ❀ possessive alphas ❀ alphas cherishing and providing ❀ new or existing dysfunctional pack coming together around omega ❀ accidental bonding ❀ friends to lovers ❀ rivals to lovers ❀ age gap ❀ gender doesn't matter ❀ exploring sexuality ❀ betas are the glue ❀

𝓐 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮: Alpha A, Alpha B and Beta A have a close knit friendship and are occationally lovers. Alpha A and Alpha B are high-standing and their parents want them to get serious about life, start a pack and settle down, preferably without Beta A whom they tug about. They get an omega in an attempt to cement a pack, but several of the pack members already have feelings for or meet someone else, shaking up the dynamics of what they are (a little unwillingly?) trying to create.

𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓮

❀ WHERE: - I will only RP through EMAIL or Google Docs - NOT Discord. Will use Discord to chat oop, but I don't like it for writing anything more than a couple sentences.

❀ Writing: - Semi-literate to literate writing, a few paragraps - Preferably 1st person present or past, or 3rd person past tense - Replies from once a day to twice a week - I'll try to match length, and hope you'll do the same

❀ Characters: - No existing OC's or muses - Any gender or sexuality (I am cis and heterosexual)

❀ Triggers: - Only really toilet and blood play - Not a trigger, but I prefer no mpreg. - Looking for a partner with similarily few triggers

If we start an RP, please tell me if something isn't working for you. If you think we're a good match writing wise, but a character/plot/couple isn't working for you, I am super flexible to change things up, just give me a clear heads up!

If don't think we're a good fit at all, that's okay too! Just let me know so I can move on.

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓽

If you're interested, I'll be happy to hear from you! Please include some information about yourself so I can see if we're a good match.

email: fr4nroleplays@gmail.com

[enruiinas]

@ladyxamalthea asked:

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ✔ /eyes/

A quick and easy plotting guide. Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse! // always accepting! great for breaking ground w/ new mutuals!

❥ MY MUSE(S): Trafalgar Law

❥ DO I KNOW YOUR MUSE(S):  yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

(as you know, I'm working my way through the book! I'm filling this out based on my current progress & your Carrd. I will probably throw questions at you here and there if I'm curious about things, but likewise, feel free to correct me on anything or throw out any helpful "heads up!"s if I get anything wrong or you think knowing something would help. I don't mind spoilers so don't worry about that.)

❥ SETTING: our verse | my verse | your verse (OP one for now, open to your canon more when I'm done reading!) | modern | alternate universe | other

those bolded/italicized, but I'm also always happy to build verses from scratch, shared interests, etc.

❥ PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Neutral. I'm not opposed, but these are generally easier for me in new/spin-off verses with people I've already written or chatted with a lot. That said, don't let it discourage you from pitching any on your end if you have ideas.

❥ POSSIBLE RELATIONSHIPS: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protector - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other 

This is a little difficult for me to answer where I'm at right now. I went ahead and bolded ones I can definitely see and crossed out the ones I don't enjoy in general or couldn't see specifically. Everything else I'm open to, but since you know her much better than I do right now, I'd love to hear your thoughts or preferences on the potential relationships between them.

❥ I'M IN THE MOOD FOR: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

Kind of the same here; depends on what you're interested in exploring out of what I'm open to! Crime's not usually a go-to genre for me in that like... I don't like murder stories/unsolved mystery type things, and I'm a chicken & do not like horror. Other than that, I'm pretty open. I don't love humor/crack threads as ongoing threads, but do engage in dash shenanigans from time to time so don't read that as "never send anything funny". I just can't write humor as it's own genre long-term. Preference for plotting when I first start writing with someone, or at least knowing it's okay to be like "hey I have this idea for your meme, what do you think of it?" It gets easier for me to wing stuff with people in time.

❥ FEEL FREE TO: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens (one day I'll post these. i've never tried one!) | send a meme (or two or one million) | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

All the things! I think you'll find I'm very laid-back, "anything goes" vibes & thrive when that's the other mun's energy as well!

[someotherdog]

@waywordhearts / 025, an empty balcony while a party goes on inside. / alice & your choice of muse! / posted in beta.

alice rarely ever got to dress up. her life had always been about work, and before her numerous divorces, her life had also been about trying to please her respective unpleasable husbands. it had been a long time since alice had done anything just for herself, and while she had never been much of a social butterfly, it was sort of... nice to lose herself in a crowd. she was acting, she knew that, but it was fun. putting on that blue dress earlier in the evening, it was like stepping into a new character: fun, carefree alice! in that dress, she could laugh politely and tell funny stories about previous students. in that dress, she could feel confident about herself.

she'd have to take that dress off at some point, though. soon, at the night's end, she'd have to go back to being boring, work-obsessed alice. the barbie that no one wanted to play with. she was a little drunk, mostly on champagne, but a bit on conversation, too. she needed to get some air.

"if you'll excuse me..." alice announced, slowly making her exit to the balcony of the penthouse apartment. the fanciness of the host's venue helped her ease into her carefree character for the night, but the chill of the air outside brought reality back to alice. it was stupid, anyway. she could play pretend for awhile, but she was too old to try to be the belle of the ball.

now that was a sobering thought! it almost made her cry. luckily, that could be blamed on the alcohol, and like all drunk thoughts, they went away quickly to be replaced with something else. she forgot all about it when the sliding glass door to the balcony opened again. alice turned to the intruder, smiling eagerly.

she smoothed her hair back. "you've caught me!" alice stepped closer to them. "i was trying to sneak in some personal reflection time. it's so loud in there, y'know? i could barely hear myself think." she knew that she was babbling, but couldn't stop herself. "you needed a break too, i assume?"

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 35]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

When you alarm rang, you blankly reached over to turn it off. Your arm fell limply in front of you. You haven't been able to sleep much the past few days, working yourself to the bone. Work was the only thing that could take your mind off things.

'Hey, Eden. I'm not feeling too well so I'll be working from home today. - Prod. Indigo'

'If you're not feeling well, you should just take a rest day! You're ahead of your progression schedule anyway, Indigo. A day of break won't hurt you. - Eden'

'No, it's fine. Ping me for the progress meeting later. - Prod. Indigo'

'Fine... Because I know even if I say no, you'll somehow sucker someone else into pinging you in. - Eden'

You left your phone on the nightstand and turned to face the ceiling. Even if it was just your paranoia, you haven't even been in much contact with Hanuel. You were worried about her safety.

'Hi, baby! Going to practice now! Things have been going well. Have a great day :] - Mings'

Thankfully, Mingi had become busier too so you didn't have to lie to him. He only calls you for a short while or texts you periodically. He hasn't even had the time to drop by. You knew he felt bad and you both missed each other dearly but maybe it was for the best, a blessing in disguise.

The threatening messages have even been coming in on your ghost servers, making you temporarily close them. But you weren't really concerned about that since it was a ghost server.

For those, you made sure to take picture proof in your phone just in case you wanted to go to the authorities.

*DING DONG*

You sat up immediately as the sound of someone knocking your front door. You waited for a while to see if the person would go away.

"Indigo. It's me."

Hearing the familiar voice, you relaxed. You got out of bed and went to open the door for San to come in. He had a few bags by his feet and a tray of drinks.

"What are you doing here, San?" You blinked in confusion, taking the tray from him so he could bring the bags in.

"I heard Eden hyung telling the other producers you were unwell so I came to check in. I brought some porridge and tea for you." He smiled. You melted at his words. Knowing that Mingi was busy, the other boys had all been very attentive and caring to you.

"Thank you, Sannie. That's really sweet of you." You locked the door and went over to where he was unpacking the stuff he brought in the kitchen. There was a lot.

"I also got some vitamin drinks. My dad said this brand is really good so you don't feel so tired." He pointed.

"You didn't need to get so much." You chuckled.

"You've been working so hard in the studio, skipping meals and not sleeping. You need the supplements." San argued. He put the cold stuff in your fridge while you got bowls and cutlery out.

"Does Mingi know you're here?" You asked as you poured the porridge into two bowls.

"No...? I don't need to tell him I'm here. This is your home. And don't forget, we were a family before you started dating Mingi hyung. I don't need his permission to come care for you. I was closer to you before he was anyway." He scoffed, sounding almost offended. Seeing the small pout on his face made you laugh.

"I know that, Sannie. And I don't mean anything bad. It was just a question." You giggled. San still had a displeased pout on his face, making you pinch his cheek.

"Let's eat first." You said, putting the small dishes of kimchi in the middle of the two porridge bowls.

"Thank you for the food. And thank you for bringing this to me." You smiled gratefully. Only then did San smile shyly, picking up his spoon.

"I would have made it myself like my omma but I didn't want to do it wrong and end up making it taste horrible. You should be feeling better, not more sick." San rubbed the back of his neck.

"No, it's okay. I know you're busy. You coming and bringing makes me feel better already."

"I'm glad then." He smiled.

"So I've heard that practice and comeback preparations have been really busy. Tell me how that has been going." You asked, leaning your head on your hand to look at him as you ate. San began to excitedly tell you about the choreography.

"But the vocal lessons are getting tough. Plus the extra gym sessions to keep in shape. It's alright though, all the hardwork will lead to a successful comeback." He said.

"Yeah, you're right. You've all been working so hard. But remember to take care of yourselves too. I know idols can get sick or injured easily from how harsh comeback preparations are." You sighed.

"Mingi hyung feels bad that he hasn't been able to see you as often though." He softened.

"I know, I miss him too, I miss all of you. But it's just something we have to deal with in our jobs." You forced a smile.

"It's not easy." San nodded in agreement.

"But Indigo, if you need anything, you can come to any one of us, okay? Not just Mingi hyung. We'll be there for you. We're family, no matter how busy any of us are." San held your hand.

"And I'll always be thankful for that. Thanks, Sannie." You squeezed his hand. You remembered telling San when you first joined how you were not used to being cared for since you were always on your own, you've cared for others but no one has genuinely ever cared for you. But the Ateez boys did, right from the start.

"You all accepted me right from that get go, never once questioning my mask or my name. You've never made me feel like I was alone or an outsider." You said.

"Because you're not alone with us. We would never push you to do something that would you feel uncomfortable." He promised.

"But it's nice seeing you and Mingi hyung happy together. I think you compliment each other." He told you.

"You think so?" You giggled.

"Mhmm... You both bring out such good sides of each other. Like Mingi hyung is calmer with you around and you seem less guarded with Mingi hyung is with you." He tried his best to explain.

"I guess so. You all make me feel less guarded." You said. San smiled softly at your words.

After sharing the meal together, you and San sat in the living room, just talking. He was someone that was calming to talk to. The conversation could go in any direction and be about any topic without being awkward.

"Yes, Hongjoong hyung?... I'm just... out." San paused the conversation when Hongjoong called him. You knew that Hongjoong was probably asking where he ran off to.

"Indigo's not well?" San feigned innocence, eyes casting over to you. You stifled your laughter.

"I'll see you back at the company... Yes, hyung... Alright, bye." He bid the captain goodbye and hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"Joong's looking for you?"

"He's always looking for us, making sure we're not getting into trouble and at our schedules. But I'm on a break now, my gym session isn't until 2pm." San informed. You nodded your head, checking the time.

"I have a progress meeting at 4pm with the other producers. Eden will be pinging me in virtually." You replied.

"Yeah, that's why Hongjoong hyung brought up that you were unwell just now. He mentioned that he wants us to sit in this time to listen to the producers' conversations with him. At the same time, he wanted to make sure that I stay behind after my workout with the others." San explained.

"I should go, to give you time to rest and prepare for the meeting. I'll go to KQ and warm up before my session." San patted your head, standing up from the couch.

"I'll text our manager hyung to come pick me." He took his phone out to text his manager.

"Thanks for dropping by and bringing so many things for me." You walked him to the door, grabbing his jacket from the chair for him.

"You're welcome." He smiled. You both shared a hug.

"If you still feel unwell, don't attend the meeting okay? I'm sure the others will understand, people get sick. You've been working so much, you're only human." He said after pulling away.

"Okay. If you see Mingi later, is it okay if you don't tell him I'm unwell? I don't want to worry him. Knowing him, he might just skip practice and come down to take care of me. I'm fine, really." You assured. San nodded and reached over to give you a friend kiss on your forehead.

"Bye, Indigo." He waved.

"Bye, Sannie. Have a good workout session, stay safe." You wished. He gave a final wave before disappearing into the lift. You let out a long breath, closing the door and locking it.

With that, you went into your studio and shut the door. You put your headphones on to isolate you in the world of music before starting your work.

Mingi bowed to the vocal instructor as he left the small room where he just had his lesson. He let out a tired sigh.

"Still nothing?" He checked his phone. You haven't texted him all morning, which was weird. But Mingi knew you were very busy and didn't want to bother you with his overthinking.

"Oh, Mingi ah." Seonghwa called. Mingi stopped in his tracks, lifting his head up from his phone.

"Hwa hyung." Mingi blinked.

"Just finished vocal lessons?" Seonghwa tilted his head, looking at the notebook the taller had tucked under his arm. Mingi nodded his head as they walked together.

"The teacher said my condition wasn't very good today I shouldn't strain my voice too much, I guess. You're headed for the producers' meeting too, right?" Mingi asked. The oldest of the group nodded his head. They took the lift together to the floor with all the meeting rooms. Some people were there already.

"Hongjoong ah." Seonghwa called. The captain broke away from his conversation with Yeosang to wave to the two members. Mingi and Seonghwa bowed to the others that were in the room.

"The members are sitting here." Yeosang said softly. They nodded and took their seats.

"The producers are here." Yunho stated. The Ateez boys stood up to greet Edenary, who entered the room.

Mingi craned his neck and realised you weren't there. He was about to take his phone out to text you, Eden cleared his throat.

"Producer Indigo is feeling under the weather so she will be joining us virtually. She apologises for the inconvenience." Eden said. Mingi's eyes widened at his words.

You were unwell? Is that why you haven't been texting him the whole day? There was a panic going on in Mingi's head now. Yunho seemed to have taken notice, placing his hand over his best friend's leg and patting it gently to calm him down.

"Indigo~ Can you hear me?" Mingi heard Maddox speak.

"Uh huh. Thanks, Maddox."

Your voice was heard. Maddox smiled, happy the connection was working well. He set the computer on the table, making sure it was plugged into the wall outlet.

"Hi, boys." You waved to the Ateez boys once Maddox turned the computer around.

"Hi, Indigo." They greeted back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Hwa. Thanks. I just needed to rest for a bit." You giggled. You had your mask on so Mingi couldn't really tell if you were okay or not. But he couldn't go to you now, you wouldn't like that.

"Sorry for the inconvenience everyone." You said when Eden was going to start the meeting.

"Nonsense. You shouldn't even be joining the meeting if you're sick." Eden scoffed. After that, he began the meeting. The other Ateez boys just listened to the conversations that were taking place. The ones that participated were Mingi and Hongjoong. Although Mingi was more concerned about you.

"I've sent in track 4 to Eden. Still need some time to arrange track 6, it's not sounding right yet." You informed. Eden played the tracks that you have sent him for everyone to listen.

"I'll polish up the tracks and submit them to the CEO." Eden said when the track finished.

"Yes, please." You replied.

"Since the main track is done and we're practicing the dance, the current update from the team is that we'll be filming the music video in about three months?" Hongjoong said.

"The team has to come together to decide on the locations and logistics. Then the stylists will have a concept meeting." Eden added.

"Am I needed in any of those meetings?" You asked. You've never been so participative in the entire process of an artist's promotions before so this was all new to you. Was a producer needed at a creative concept meeting?

"Maybe not the stylists meeting but the story boarding and the music video concept meeting? It would be good to share your concept and vision with the team since it is your track, Indigo."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there. Loop me into the communications so I can schedule it in, please." You requested.

"Sure, I'll let the team leaders know." He nodded.

Mingi sat there in worry. This was just another thing to add to your already crazy schedule. He didn't want you to have something new to stress about.

"Before we end the meeting, anything to add from the boys?" Eden asked. You looked up from the iPad you had been scribbling your notes on to focus on what the boys were saying.

"Nothing from us. Thank you all for your hard work." Hongjoong bowed his head and the other 7 followed suit.

"You're all working hard too, giving it your all. Do well in promoting the album!" You giggled.

With that, Eden summarised set the deadlines for the producers' different submissions and concluded the meeting. The boys stood up and bowed repeatedly to the producers as they took their leave. You waved and bid everyone goodbye before hanging up. The Ateez boys left the meeting room after.

"Did you know Indigo's sick?" Wooyoung asked Mingi while they walked to the dance studio.

"I didn't know. I texted her this morning but she hadn't reply. So I thought she was just busy." Mingi frowned slightly. Yunho nudged Wooyoung to not ask anymore.

"Maybe I should go check on her to see if she's okay or bring her something." Mingi thought out loud, stopping in his spot.

"Maybe you can see her after practice. Indigo sounded fine during the meeting earlier." Seonghwa stepped in before Mingi could decide to just leave now.

"She's fine, right San? You went to see her this morning." Yeosang said. All heads turned to San.

"You visited her, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Yeah, I had some time before coming here and I went. I heard she was not well so I went to get her some food and vitamin drinks to help her recover. Then we ate together. She was fine, just seemed tired." San recounted, nodding his head.

"Thankfully you had the time to go see if she was okay, San ah." Hongjoong patted the younger on the shoulder. The others nodded their heads in agreement, just glad to hear that you were okay.

But Mingi wasn't. There was a weird feeling in his chest, a sort of heaviness. Did you tell San you were sick and not him?

He admits that it was probably jealousy and the fact that you two have not been able to see each other recently. But something felt weird, something felt wrong.

"You good?" Yunho asked as the two of them trailed at the back of the group.

"Mmm..." Mingi nodded.

"Call her." Yunho encouraged, knowing it was the only way for Mingi to calm down and focus for the rest of the practice session. He didn't want to see his best friend get scolded by Hongjoong.

"Yeah." Mingi took his phone out and slipped into the handicap toilet, locking the door and sitting on the closed seat.

"Oh hey, Mings. What's up?" You answered after a few rings. Since it was a video call, you had propped the phone up against the bottom of your monitor to continue working. Mingi watched as you continued to work, now feeling guilty for bothering you while you were obviously busy.

"Mings? Are you okay? You're not saying anything." You stopped typing, looking straight at the camera. You picked up the device and blinked in confusion.

"I just wanted to hear your voice." Mingi forced out.

"I miss you too, Mings." You smiled softly. He finally relaxed, his tense shoulders falling slightly as he let out a shaky sigh.

"You know you can tell me anything, right baby? I'm never too busy for you. I'm a phone call away." He said. You nodded with a hum, eyes still trained on him to give him your full attention.

"And likewise for me too, Mings. Don't think that you're bothering me or interrupting my work. Just call me at any time." You said.

"I don't have morning practice tomorrow so I'll come over tonight?" He tilted his head.

"I'd like that. You know that you can come over whenever you want to. I love when you're here." You chuckled.

"Alright, I have to go before the others wait too long for me. But I'll see you tonight. I love you, baby." Mingi said, voice full of unwillingness to hang up.

"I love you too, Mings. Have a great practice session. See you later!" You wished before hanging up. With another sigh, Mingi stood up and left the bathroom to go to the practice room. He bowed apologetically to the members that were waiting for him.

"Sorry, let's start." Mingi said. From his warm up spot, Yunho looked at Mingi through the mirror. He guessed that the phone call went well because there was now an almost excited pep in his step.

Practice went well. After running through a few times, the 8 boys split up to work on the choreography in smaller groups.

"And 1, 2, 3, 4." Wooyoung counted as he worked in the small corner with Yeosang and San.

"Something is weird." Jongho laughed as he and Yunho worked together. His moves looked a little different from the taller male's. Yunho couldn't help but giggle.

"Like this, Jongho ah." Yunho directed.

RINGGGGGGGGG

"Yah, I thought I said phones on silent during practice." Hongjoong yelled from his spot, a frown on his face and his hands on his hips. He didn't know whose phone it was. But Jongho jogged over to his bag, picking up his ringing phone. His phone is usually on 'Do Not Disturb' but there were exceptions.

"Sorry, hyung. Family emergency." Jongho said and exited the room to take the phone call.

~

Series Masterlist