#and then AGAIN on monday to retrieve my car

[your-jellyfish-senpai]

oh it's sad boi hours

[watermelonlovershigh]

In Sickness and in Health {part. 9} (housemate!harry series)

The Next Morning {part. 8} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: sorry this part took so long. it took me forever to write. it's quite a longer part so i hope you enjoy reading. don't forget to leave your feedback and reblog. also i think something went wrong with my taglist so if you weren't sent this from me tagging you, idk what happened. xoxo

This story contains: vomit (stomach bug), sickness comfort, fluff, crying, mentions of neglectful ex partners, accidentally dropping "L" bomb at the end

{ housemate!harry - friends to lovers - boyfriend!harry - softrry - teacher!harry - au!harry }

word count- 3,750

Harry unfortunately catches a stomach virus the day after you made your relationship official and you have to pick him up from work and take care of him for the rest of day, which he greatly appreciates.

Harry woke up on Monday morning and started getting ready for work as usual. Despite feeling a slight cramp in his stomach, he chose to disregard it. Just before leaving the house, he returned to your bedroom where both of you had slept the previous night and gently kissed his girlfriend's forehead. You were still asleep, having the flexibility to work from home, so there was usually no need for you to wake up at the same time as Harry. On his way out the front door, he grabbed a banana from the kitchen before making his way to his car.

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

The stomach cramps that Harry felt while getting ready for work are still present, and as he starts teaching his first class of the day, he realizes that they're only getting worse. Initially, the sensation in his stomach was similar to cramps, but as time goes on, it becomes more of a swirling feeling that makes it difficult for him to focus on his task of teaching. Eventually, Harry opts to handing out worksheets for his students so he can sit down and attempt to alleviate the ache in his stomach.

Ultimately, the plan falls through because he reaches a point where he senses he's about to vomit all over his desk, in front of all his students, if he doesn't immediately go to the bathroom. Harry quietly gets up from his desk and leaves the classroom without any explanation. If he had more time, he would have requested his neighboring teacher to supervise his class while he steps out, but he's worried there's no time for that.

Upon reaching the hallway, Harry quickens his pace towards the nearby teachers' bathroom. Fortunately, they were conveniently located not too far from his own classroom. Without wasting a moment, he swiftly enters the one toilet bathroom, closes the door, and securely locks it behind him. Rushing towards the toilet, Harry manages to make it just in time. As he stands in front of the somewhat grimy white porcelain, he began to throw up the lasagna you'd cooked the night before and remnants of the banana he had forced himself to eat this morning.

When Harry completes the gross task, he straightens up, breathe labored, and retrieves some toilet paper to cleanse his nose and mouth. Subsequently, he flushes the toilet to prevent any further discomfort from the sight of his own puke. Now, he faces a dilemma. Is it possible that his sickness was a one-time occurrence, allowing him to continue teaching for the remainder of the day? Or, should he call and ask you to pick him up? He decides to pick the first option, unless he begins to feel sick again later on.

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

Despite his best efforts, Harry can only make it until lunchtime before he finally gives in and calls you to come pick him up. He's been sick twice more since the first incident, and there doesn't seem to be any improvement in his condition. On top of Harry's queasy stomach, he now has a pounding headache and doesn't want to take the chance of driving himself home and getting into an accident. It's really frustrating because just yesterday you both decided to make your relationship official, and now Harry is feeling terribly ill. This was definitely not how he had planned today going.

He wanted to come home and canoodle you all evening. Make you dinner and begin working on his promise of all the places he intends on fucking you in. But instead, he's presumably got some sort of stomach bug that hinders any of that from happening.

Alone in his classroom while his students are at lunch, he pulls out his cellphone and dials up your number.

"Hello." you pick up with an upbeat tone, unaware of how the conversation is about to go. By looking at the time on your laptop, you assume Harry's on his lunch break and has a moment to talk. He's called you on his lunch break in the past, but now it feels different. You're boyfriend and girlfriend. His calls feel more meaningful now.

Harry nervously requests through the phone, "M' sorry to bother you, but could you come pick me up? I think I've caught some sort of stomach bug. I've thrown up three times already and m' not feelin' any better. I've also got a headache now. M' not sure if I can drive myself home."

You've never heard Harry sound so, bleh, since your time of knowing him. All the happiness he usually carries in his voice is gone and it breaks your heart to hear. You immediately set your laptop down and stand from the couch to slip a pair of shoes on. "Yeah Harry, I'll come and get you. Whereabouts do I need to park?"

"Just at the front entrance. I'll walk up to your car." he mumbles, not wanting to talk too much with a queasy belly.

"Okay, I'll be there shortly. Hang tight." you finish the phone call off before hanging up and grabbing your keys to head out the door. If Harry feels as bad as he sounded over the phone, you'd hate for him to stay any longer then he has to. Poor thing must be miserable.

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

When you reach the school's entrance, you see Harry standing there with his teacher's satchel hanging over his shoulder and a hand casually resting on his stomach. After placing the car in park, Harry quickly opens the passenger door and climbs in. He's ridden in your car just a few times before, mainly when you go grocery shopping or when grabbing a meal together.

As soon as Harry shuts the car door, he tries to get settled in car seat as best as possible while feeling like total shit. "Thank you for comin' to get me. Don't think I would've made it if I had to drive myself home."

Before placing the car back into drive, you coo over to him softly, "It's no problem, really. I hate that you're so sick. You were fine all weekend. When did you begin feeling sick?"

"While I was gettin' ready for work this mornin', I noticed my belly crampin' but ignored it. Then durin' my first class of the day, the crampin' turned into nausea before I ended up bein' sick in the teacher's toilet."

With the car in drive now, you begin pulling out of the school's lot and make the journey back to Harry's (yours too technically) house. "Awe, well I'll take care of you. No worries. In sickness and in health."

Harry abruptly turns his head to face you, worsening the throbbing headache he had been enduring, and instantly regretting his impulsive action. "What?" he responds with a touch of confusion, though internally filled with excitement over the end of your statement. "In sickness and in health? We only started datin' yesterday, we're not married." He refrains from expressing his true desire for future marriage.

Smiling playfully at the road, you reply, "I understand that, but I believe when you truly care about someone, you should stick to that commitment regardless of marriage. And since I'm your girlfriend and you're now my boyfriend, it means I care about you deeply and will take care of you, no matter the circumstances." What you really wanted to say is when you love someone alot, but didn't want to throw the love bomb in this conversation, afraid of how he'd react.

Harry feels as though he might throw up again and not from his stomach bug this time, but rather due to the pure admiration he feels towards you. Your endless compassion and selflessness towards him has the ability to make his heart feel as though it could burst at any given moment. He reciprocates these feelings wholeheartedly, even from the early stages of your relationship when you were just housemates and acquaintances. During that time, he took care of you when you were sick due to your period cramps, showcasing his genuine concern for your well-being during a time where you were most vularable.

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

After a ten-minute drive, you finally arrive home, and Harry silently expresses his gratitude towards the heavens above for helping him keep his stomach under control. He really didn't want to accidentally be sick in your car or have you pull over suddenly so he could spew on the side of the road. He's determined not to disgust his new girlfriend too much on your first full day together, although he's confident that you would have handled the situation with grace.

Getting out of the car, you instruct, "Go lie in bed and I'll bring you some medicine and plain crackers, alright. I'm gonna take care of you."

"Noo....." Harry whines as he drags his feet along the pavement to the front door, "don't wanna eat anythin'."

"But Harry, you need something on your tummy."

Huffing, he argues, "M' just gonna throw it back up and I don't wanna be sick again. I hate throwin' up."

You unlock the front door and step inside the living room, slipping off your shoes and placing your keys down. "I know baby but the medicine on an empty stomach may make you feel worse. Just a few nibbles is all I'm asking. And if you get sick afterwards, that's okay. At least I know you tried for me." Hey, you used the term 'baby' in a non sexual setting and it felt good. It felt right.

Harry makes his way to his bedroom and strips his work attire off before settling into the disheveled bed without a care in the world. Exhausted from the virus, he quickly falls asleep after laying his head on the pillow. His cat Pixie cuddled into his side. However, his slumber is short-lived as he's gently awakened, being asked to sit up and take the tablets that will hopefully help his sick tummy and headache. Along with the crackers you promised minutes prior.

He sits up and takes the pills with a glass of water but hesitates on the crackers. "Don't wanna." Harry whines again.

A smile escapes you as you observe his deeply furrowed brow. If you didn't know any better, you would assume Harry was a child, considering his current demeanor. Nevertheless, you don't hold it against him because you can be just as whiny when you're under the weather. Additionally, you empathize with the fear of being forced to eat something while suffering from an upset stomach. The fear of being sick again. "I understand Harry, but just try taking a small bite. That's all I'm asking for. Then I'll let you rest"

Reluctantly, Harry brings the cracker up to his mouth and takes a small bite, chewing it slowly before pushing the rest of the cracker aside. You take it from him and place it on his nightstand, in case he wants some later. Then you place his glass of water beside his bed, ready for when he becomes thirsty again. "Thank you. Now, rest. I'll be in the living room, finishing up the work I was doing before I came to get you. If you need me, call for me, okay. I'll hear you."

Laying down with the covers up to his chin, Harry mummers a quiet, "Okay." and you lean down to place a gentle kiss on his warm forehead.

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

Harry gets about an hour of rest before he awakens to his tummy swirling again. He lays there, trying to breath his nausea away, but to his luck, he only feels more and more sick as the minutes pass. So he finally makes the decision to get up and go to the bathroom. From your spot on the sofa, you hear footsteps on the creaky wood floor and then see Harry emerge from his bedroom and go inside the bathroom in the hallway.

You wait a few seconds, thinking he may have just needed to use the toilet, when you're suddenly startled by the sounds of dry heaving. Concerned, you decide to go check on your boyfriend. Approaching the bathroom door, you cringe at the sounds of Harry being sick. You have always found it difficult to be around someone who is vomiting or hearing those sounds, but you're determined to be there for Harry. With a deep breath, you turn the doorknob and cautiously enter the bathroom.

The scene in front of you is truly heartbreaking. Although you haven't known Harry for very long, less than a year in fact, during the time you've spent with him, you've never seen him in such a weak and vulnerable state. You long for the return of your cheerful and smiling boyfriend, not the sickly one with clammy skin, likely from a cold sweat. "Oh, Harry," you murmur softly as you approach the cabinet to retrieve a cloth to soothe his sweaty skin.

Taking a deep breath over the toilet bowl, he replies, "M' alright, m' alright."

Now with the cool, damp cloth in your hand, you kneel down on the hard floor and gently blot the rag on his pale skin. Being thoughtful, Harry reaches up to flush the toilet so you don't get exposed to the disgusting sight of his puke. "Do you feel better now?"

Harry shakes his head no before speaking with a raspy voice, due to him having gotten sick several times today, "Not really. Still feel sick to m' stomach. You can leave if you want. You don't have to be in here and watch me get sick. M' sure the sight is very unpleasant."

"Harry, I'm not leaving you, okay. I'm gonna be in here and take care of you. You took care of me a while back when I was throwing up from my period cramps. Told me not to be embarrassed because we all get sick from time to time. So now we're even."

Harry, too sick to reply, fixates his gaze on the toilet as you gently glide the wet cloth across his skin. Despite his desire to express how good that cloth feels, the rising bile in his throat hinders him. He straightens his posture, positioning his head over the toilet. Once his mouth begins to water, he realizes his impending fate. A loud retching sound escapes his throat, followed by the expulsion of whatever little remains in his stomach. In order to shield yourself from the sight of him vomiting, you instinctively turn away, fearing the potential of falling ill yourself.

Thankfully, Harry's hair is held back by one of the small black clips you'd left on the bathroom counter, so that's one less thing he has to worry about. After throwing up this time, you can hear him making further attempts to bring up more, but unfortunately, he's unsuccessful. Probably because he's already been sick multiple times today and his stomach is now completely empty of food.

After finally calming down, he agrees when you suggest, "Why don't we get you back in bed and I'll bring you more medicine? Sitting in front of the toilet seems to be making you feel worse." You assist Harry in standing up and hold his hand as you guide him towards his bedroom. Although he would have liked to brush his teeth, he's sadly too exhausted to even lift the toothbrush to his mouth

He gets settled back in bed and you hurry and grab the medicine to help soothe his nausea. Within minutes, you're back at his side, handing him the pills and his glass of water. He swallows the medicine slowly and begins to relax. As you're about to leave, Harry stops you. "Y/n...... could you, um, can you come cuddle me, please. Know you were workin' but um, I'd really like a cuddle." How can you say no to that.

Turning around, you smile gently and say, "Of course. Let me go switch my laptop off. I'll be right back." You go back to the living room and close your laptop, then return to Harry's bedroom. You climb into bed beside him, being careful not to disturb Pixie who has moved to the foot of her dad's bed, and scoot over to cuddle with your boyfriend of a day.

Harry shifts his position, resting his head on your chest, and starts apologizing. "M' sorry. This is not the way I envisioned today goin'. After the incredible day we had yesterday and us becomin' official, I had hoped for today to go the same. Planned to fulfill my promise of fuckin' you in at least one of the places I promised I would." Despite the fact that his words would have sounded amusing under different circumstances, his illness causes him to speak in a casual tone, unintentionally adding a touch of humor.

Running your fingers through his sweaty hair, you mutter, "Harry, don't apologize for being sick. You can't control if you get sick or not. And don't worry about that. Once you're sickness leaves, we'll have plenty of time to work on those promises, alright. Now get some rest and later I'll make you some soup. Wake me up if you feel sick again."

More than anything, Harry wants to reply with an agreement followed by the three words, 'I love you', but can't. Not yet. Not until he knows you're ready to hear that. So instead, he nods his head slightly against your chest and shuts his eyes, praying the medicine you gave him works and he doesn't get sick anymore today.

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

At seven that night, you awoke from your slumber. Sitting up in bed, you stretched and observed your boyfriend still in a deep sleep. He seemed less pale, indicating a positive change, although he remained slightly sweaty. Quietly, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen to start working on the soup you had promised Harry earlier, hoping he would have an appetite by now.

Upon completing the homemade chicken noodle soup, you carefully carried a bowl to Harry's room and helped him sit up to have his meal. You fed him, aware that his hands might be a bit shaky, and he is in complete awe of the kindness you have shown him today. He ponders, had you not made your relationship official yesterday, would you still be just as caring towards him. Of course, you would.

By this point in the day, his stomach had thankfully settled and he had even developed a slight craving for your scrumptious soup. After he had finished eating, you aided Harry in taking a bath. You prepared a warm bath and added bubbles to create an extra soothing atmosphere. Initially, your plan was to kneel on the bathmat beside the tub and assist him from there, but he insisted that you join him. Without hesitation, you joined him in the bath.

This signifies the first time you and Harry are sharing a bath, without any sexual implications. Inside the tub, you allowed Harry to lean back onto your body, gently caressing his tummy beneath the water. He expresses his satisfaction with a pleasurable moan and nearly dozes off against you. As the water temperature decreases, you begin to thoroughly wash his hair and body.

Breaking the quietness of the room, Harry whispers, "Thank you so much, Y/n. Like really, thank you. What you've done for me today means so much to me. More than you even understand." You stop the sponge along his skin when you realize he's actually getting emotional.

"Baby," you coo softly from behind him, "you don't have to thank me. I want to care for you. Did all your previous partners not want to care for you when you were sick?"

With tears welling up in his eyes, he proceeds to explain, "To be honest, not really. There was this one incident during my college years when I had caught a terrible cold. My girlfriend at the time expressed her reluctance to getting sick, so she never bothered to visit me in my dorm even once. Also didn't bother to call and check up on me. Then, about four years ago, I went on a date with my boyfriend at the time, Mark, to a restaurant. Unfortunately, I ended up with food poisoning and instead of offering any assistance, he simply drove me home and told me he would see me once I recovered. Hence, I don't expect a partner to do what you have done for me. It feels so nice to have someone take care of you when you're unwell that's not your own mother"

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

After the bath where you had some deep and vulnerable conversations, you assisted Harry out of the tub. After drying both yourself and him off with a towel, you helped him change into a fresh pair of briefs. You then directed him to lay down in your bed, as his sheets needed to be replaced due to them being soiled with sweat and germs from his stomach bug.

Turning off all the lights, you proceeded to your room, where Harry was lying down with Pixie nestled on his chest, enjoying the gentle strokes he gave her behind her ear as she purred contentedly. The bond he shares with his cat is truly adorable. He loves that cat more than anything, even you. Though you guess that's understandable since he's had that cat way longer than he's even known you for.

You take hold of the tv remote and select a movie on Netflix to watch until both of you nearly drift off to sleep once more. Harry is optimistic and hopeful that he will feel better tomorrow. He doesn't think he'll be able to return to work just yet, but is relieved that the nausea has subsided. Thankfully, the soup you prepared has stayed down, indicating a positive sign.

As your eyes grow heavy with fatigue, threatening to succumb to sleep, you feel Harry nestling himself closer to your side, followed by a hushed declaration of "Love you." In spite of your stillness, your eyes widen in surprise. Shifting your head slightly, you observe that Harry has already slipped into sleep, seemingly oblivious to his inadvertent admission.

Regardless of his true intentions, you are certain that this wasn't how he intended to convey his love for you. Now, you must find a way to approach this subject with him, hoping he doesn't get embarrassed or worse, deny the authenticity of his words.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

"Do you love me?" {part. 10}

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: anxiety attacks

wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!

i’ve only had one (1) anxiety attack in my life a couple years ago so that is what i based this off of

part twenty-two

❝ EMOTIONAL SUPPORT TIM ❞

MONDAY — 5:12PM — DAY 93

BENTLEY HAD NO IDEA ALFRED BEING GONE MEANT JASON WAS GOING TO BE THE WAYNE FAMILY’S PERSONAL CHEF. He ended up staying at the Manor for the back half of Alfred’s sabbatical, just to cook. Bentley had quickly learned that Bruce destroyed every food he touched — like the toast he tried to make Damian the second day he was sick that ended up being solid black — and Jason had banned him from the kitchen. Actually, everyone was banned from the kitchen except Cass and Bentley.

The latter had actually been so non-destructive that Jason allowed him to help on a couple occasions. It was mostly retrieving things from the fridge and pantry, but he had mixed and measured a few things, too.

Today, he was helping Jason by accompanying Tim to the grocery store.

“Do not forget the lentils,” Jason called from the breezeway that led to the kitchen as Tim and Bentley put their coats on at the door. Bentley couldn’t see him from where he was standing, but he could imagine his expression. It always got a bit more serious when he was ordering people around for the sake of food.

“Just text me the list!” Tim replied back, in a duh tone.

Bentley heard Jason scoff. “You can’t remember it? I thought you were the smartest one of us!”

“Just send it to me!” Tim called back with a huff. Bentley snickered from his spot where he was struggling to zip his black coat. He hadn’t grabbed it on purpose, but he did notice that the tag had a messily sprawled Tim Drake on it. (He’d also noticed that things kept appearing in his wardrobe, new things, but he still preferred the hand-me-downs.)

“Alright, Dory!” Jason called.

Tim turned back to Bentley and rolled his eyes dramatically, glancing down at the coat he was struggling with.

“This one was always terrible to zip,” He stated, crouching down in front of him and completely ignoring Jason’s name-calling. “Wanna see my trick for it?”

“Sure,” Bentley replied, removing his hands from the zipper.

Tim hooked the zipper at the bottom and jerked it upward so violently he almost whacked Bentley right in the face. 

“See? Works every time,” He stated, standing back up and patting Bentley’s head. He snickered.

“Thank you,”

“No problem. Anytime you need a zipper yanked, I’m your man,”

Bentley chuckled again as Tim opened the door. “We’re leaving!”

“If I cry it’s not for you!” Jason called back. Tim rolled his eyes again (Bentley was surprised they hadn’t rolled right out of his head yet.) and went out the front door.

The biting cold nipped at Bentley’s skin, and it didn’t take long for the breeze to freeze him to the bone. The overcast sky that was hiding the sun only made the cold worse. Tim made a half-grumble about it being so cold while he fished around in his jacket pocket and unlocked his car.

Tim’s car was Bentley’s favorite. It wasn’t as expensive as Bruce’s, it wasn’t as perfectly taken care of as Jason’s, and it had seat heaters where Dick’s did not. (Maybe my butt is prone to getting hot, Dick had said when Jason had grumbled about it once. I wish my butt was prone to getting hot in fifteen degree weather, Jason had replied.) Bentley had never ridden in Duke or Steph’s cars to make a comparison. (He’d never been in Jason’s, either, but he didn’t really want to. It was like his child.)

They both climbed in quickly to escape the cold, and Tim cranked the heat up and turned the seats on immediately. “I hate winter in Gotham.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, mainly because he spent so much time cooped up somewhere in his father’s house that being outside at all, even when it was freezing, was kind of nice.

They pulled out of the Manor and drove through the massive gate out into Gotham beyond.

The drive consisted of them listening to various songs that played over the radio and changing them when they didn’t like them. Tim only listened to podcasts in the car (which Bentley had learned last time he rode with him to the library, because he’d talked about them all the way there.) so the radio stations were basically experimental. They ended up not liking most of them.

After about twenty minutes and a lot of bad songs, they pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. It looked more crowded than the library, but it was also bigger, so Bentley assumed it would even out. The whole thing was glowing on the cloudy day, and he was kind of excited to see what the inside looked like. 

They booked it through the freezing-cold parking lot and through the automatic doors, into arguably the most colorful place Bentley had ever seen. The whole warehouse-sized building was full of shelves, which were covered in colorful boxes and packages. There were fruit and vegetable stands over to one side, and he could see a neon deli sign peeking out from behind some shelving. There were posters and signs everywhere, and bunches of lights hanging on the ceiling to tell them which checkouts were open. The whole place was buzzing with low chatter, and people scattered here and there with shopping carts full of stuff.

“I like this place even more than the library,” Bentley stated as Tim pulled a cart out of a big metal cart holder thingy Bentley hadn’t seen before.

“Then I’ll bring you with me every time. Grocery shopping usually stresses me out,” Tim stated, pulling the cart around and heading forward, toward the aisles. “But not when I have a cool friend like you with me.”

Bentley smiled as he walked along next to him. His deep brown eyes kept darting every which way, trying their best to take in all the colors.

“Plus, you won’t knock over the cart if you try to ride on it, like Dick does,” Tim explained, fishing out his phone. Bentley assumed he was looking at the list.

“Ride on it?”

“Yeah. He always stands on the rack at the bottom and holds onto the basket like he’s a little kid,” Tim explained, shaking his head. “He’s knocked it over a couple of times. Once when it had a bunch of stuff in it.”

Bentley snickered as they walked toward the vegetable displays. “This list looks like he’s trying to turn us into vegetarians.”

Tim held the phone over to Bentley, and he was right. The message was full of various vegetables and the like. Then, in one extra message at the bottom, it said oh, and beef.

Bentley shrugged. “Everything he’s made has been good.”

“He’s probably conditioning us,”

Bentley chuckled at that, and they continued to the tables. Tim grabbed a little plastic bag off the wall and started squeezing and inspecting various vegetables, bagging up the amounts Jason specified. Bentley took to looking around the store.

After they spent an exorbitant amount of time with the vegetables, they started heading toward the fridge aisles, where the beef was.

Bentley was distracted by watching the candy shelves and stuffed animals and balloons that sat near the checkout pass. He had a hand on the handle of the cart so he wouldn’t get lost.

He and Tim turned into the fridge aisle. But before they disappeared behind the shelves, Bentley saw something that made his heart nearly stop.

At the end of the store, standing in front of the dairy, staring at them…

Was his father. His red hair, his brown eyes, everything. He was wearing a button up and the jacket he only got out for cold days and he was standing right there, staring at them.

Bentley let go of the cart and let Tim drift ahead, counting his fingers once, twice, three times. 

His dad was there. And Tim was there. And he was there. And he was awake. He looked back at his father, and then at his hands, and his father was really there.

The only reasonable explanation was that his father knew. His father knew that Bentley liked the Wayne’s and he knew that he didn’t want to complete the plan and he knew that it was day ninety three and Bentley still hadn’t done anything and he was going to kill them. Bentley was going to die.

He pushed himself along behind Tim and they went between the shelves, his heartbeat accelerating until it felt like it was going to break his ribs. Tim stopped to grab something and he spoke, and Bentley nodded wordlessly, because he couldn’t really hear, and the colors in the store were getting duller.

His father was going to kill them while they weren’t home. They were going to die.

Bentley walked along as Tim pushed the cart ahead of him, suddenly feeling really cold and clammy but hot and stuffy at the same time. He could feel his hands shaking, and he tried to tell them to stop and stay still but they wouldn’t listen to him. Actually, nothing was listening to him. His whole body was wracked with nervous tremors and his lungs were taking in air at a rapid rate but it wasn’t doing anything. He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt like it was constricting and his stomach was flopping like a fish and his eyes were burning like he was about to start crying and he couldn’t make it stop. He couldn’t make any of it stop. Why couldn’t he make it stop?

Dumbly, he reached for Tim’s sleeve and pulled on it. He watched him turn around and look at him and say something but he couldn’t hear him. He tried to talk but all that came out was a weird little noise to accompany the hot tears that fell down his face.

His father was about to kill them.

Tim put a hand on his shoulder, his big blue eyes bouncing all over Bentley’s face. The child finally made his hand move just enough to sign the word outside.

Tim abandoned the cart and grabbed Bentley’s shoulders, guiding him toward the doors. He couldn’t see his father in the aisle anymore. The walk felt like a year, and he was glad Tim was holding onto him because everything was spinning a little bit. His arms and legs felt really heavy.

He was going to kill them.

Everything hurt. Bentley’s chest hurt like he’d sucked in some water and his head hurt and his stomach hurt and he thought he might’ve been dying. Could his father kill with a glare? When they made it outside the cold hit him like a truck and he shook with a sudden wave of violent tremors. He was crying and he couldn’t make it stop.

Tim led him to a bench on the outside of the store and sat him down on it, crouching in front of him.

Bentley numbly grasped at the front of his own jacket, like maybe he could get his lungs to work right, but it didn’t help. His head felt like it was pumped full of helium and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t think. He hiccuped from his crying but it turned into coughs. He thought he was going to throw up.

“Bentley, can you talk to me?”

He raised his shaking hands. All of the signs he knew left his brain, and he had to work to bring them back to his memory. He moved his hands quickly and sloppily, royally screwing up a few times, but he hoped Tim would get at least a few of them.

Pain.

Sick.

Faint.

Vomit.

Breathe.

Dying.

Tim took a breath and felt Bentley’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I think I know what’s going on. You’re not dying. You might feel like it, but you’re not, I promise. Try and take some slow, deep breaths.”

Bentley tried, but it didn’t actually work. All he could think about was his father coming out the front door to kill them. Another wave of violent trembles came over him, and Tim put his hands on Bentley’s knees. The contact made a difference, even if it was only microscopic.

Bentley tried again to suck in a deep breath, but it hurt, and he only ended up crying harder.

Tim unzipped his own jacket, grabbed Bentley’s hand, and put it against his shirt. “Try to breathe at the same time as me, and just as deep.”

He took a long, deep breath, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest, and Bentley tried his best to follow along. He balled up the material of Tim’s shirt in his hands.

“That’s it, keep going. Your chest won’t hurt so bad once you breathe a bit slower,”

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there and tried to mimic Tim’s breathing, but after a while, the world was starting to come back into focus, and his head felt a little less like a balloon. It was getting dim outside. 

“Are you with me, bud?”

Bentley nodded slightly, even though he was still crying some and his stomach still felt rocky. His breathing was mostly under control now, and just like Tim said, his chest barely hurt anymore.

“Can you tell me how you feel?”

He sniffled, and his anxious trembling had meshed together with shivering.

“Cold,” He whispered. “And… my stomach is still funny. And tired. Am I… sick?”

Tim rubbed one of his knees lightly. “No, you’re not sick. I think you just… got a little overstimulated and had something called an anxiety attack.”

Bentley exhaled a shaky breath and looked down at his lap. That didn’t sound good. Was Tim sure he wasn’t sick?

“Have you ever heard of them?” Tim questioned. Bentley sniffled and shook his head no.

“It’s where your body thinks there’s danger when there isn’t. It can make you feel sick, or like you’re dying, but your body’s really just trying to protect you,” The teenager explained lowly.

“Doesn’ feel like protecting,” Bentley murmured. Tim huffed out a little trace of a laugh.

“Never does,” He replied, and he rubbed Bentley’s knee again. “I used to have them a lot, too.”

The child glanced up at him, and sniffed. “You did?”

“Uh-huh. Still do, sometimes,” He admitted. “Is there anything I can do for you, or get you?”

The thought of going back into the store made Bentley’s head swirl a little, because his father was in there. “…I wanna go home.”

Tim nodded once. “Okay. We can go home.”

He didn’t expect Tim to say that. He sat there for a minute until his brain caught up enough to realize that if they actually went home, Jason wouldn’t have what he needed.

“But Jason’s stuff…”

Tim looked at him sadly. “If you’re nervous he’ll be mad, he won’t. You’re more important all of that, Bentley.”

I have more important things to tend to, Bentley, his father had said on numerous occasions. It had never once, in his ten years of living, been you’re more important than all of that, Bentley.

“I’ll just text Dick and tell him to pick up the list on his way home. For now I’m going to take care of you and what you need, okay?”

Bentley nodded emptily. 

“If you’re ready to go, I can carry you to the car. Or we can sit here for a bit,”

Staying at the store any longer felt like a deathtrap. “I want to leave.”

Tim smiled lightly and extended his arms. “Okay. Then let’s get out of here, huh?”

Bentley stood up from the cold bench and wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck like he had when he had that terrible nightmare, and Tim picked him up and started retreating to the car. 

Tim put him in the passenger’s seat and moved over to the driver’s side, climbing in next to him. “One more thing, and then I’ll be quiet so you can rest.”

Bentley looked over at him. 

“If you ever feel like that’s going to happen again, you can come get me. Or anyone, if I’m not home. Everyone in the manor is pretty good at handling those, thanks to yours truly. Even Damian.”

Bentley tried to imagine Damian doing what Tim just did, and it didn’t line up, but he believed him. “Okay.”

Tim started up the car, and they pulled out of the parking lot. Bentley hadn’t realized how tired he actually was until the vehicle started moving, but he turned out to be drop dead exhausted. He wasn’t even sure they made it onto the main road before he fell asleep against the passenger’s side window.

—

He woke up slightly when Tim picked him up out of the car. Just enough to grab onto him so he wasn’t a ragdoll.

He heard the front door open and close, and after a few seconds, there was a voice.

“How is he?” Bentley thought it was Bruce.

He heard Tim sigh. “Sleeping now,” He whispered.

“You can put him in the den,”

Tim shook his head a little. “I want him with me. I have work to finish anyhow. I’ll ask him if he wants dinner in a bit.”

“Alright,”

Bentley felt Tim go up, up, up the stairs and take a left instead of a right. He laid him down in a bed and covered him up, and then there was silence, and then the mattress dipped beside him. Bentley heard laptop keys.

He opened his eyes just enough to see that he was in Tim’s room. The Tim in question had posted up beside him with his laptop and a file folder sitting on the comforter. Bentley shifted closer to him, grabbed onto a little bit of his hoodie, and went back to sleep.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld

—

tag list

@fleur-alise @cademygod @sarcopterygiian

[vanfleeter]

Distant // JTK

Pairing: Jake x reader Warning: Angst, angst, angst--did I mention angst? Mentions of sex, little fluff. Author's Note: I don't know where this thought came from but never the less, here it is. Summary: Does he not love you anymore? Why is he acting so different?

You haven’t seen much of Jake for a few weeks. Constantly working in the studio or so he claims. Leaves early before you’re awake, which is odd because he’s not much of a morning person so it takes some coaxing for him to get up. Then he spends his days so late in the studio that he ends up just sleeping there. He’s constantly going out with the guys and not once inviting you or thinking maybe you’d like to come along. He’s hardly ever touched you. Doesn’t hold your hand when the two of you go out on double dates with Sam and his girlfriend or Danny and his girlfriend. He doesn’t even kiss you often either. Frankly you can’t even remember the last time the two of you kissed or were intimate with each other.

The house was empty for the most part except for you. You stopped rushing home from work to get dinner started so it'd be done in time for when Jake arrived home so the two of you could eat together and spend a few hours together before retiring to bed.. Why rush when there’s no one to feed besides yourself? Until one night…

Pulling into the driveway you find yourself confused seeing Jake’s jeep parked in his usual spot. Cutting the engine, you grab your things from the passenger seat and climb out of the car. Making your way up to the front door you unlock it and step inside. Sitting in the entryway is your suitcase and his with your small duffel sitting on top and his guitar leaning case leaning against his.

Hanging up your coat and setting your purse on the table, you head upstairs to the bedroom to find Jake showering. You weren’t sure what was going on or what exactly you should be doing, so you sat on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed in front of you. You hear the shower turn off not too much longer and he comes out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“You should shower too,” He says. “Our flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning so you won’t have time to do it beforehand.”

“Where are we going?” You ask.

He pauses in front of the dresser. “Michigan?” He says before pulling open the top drawer of his dresser and pulling out a pair of boxers. “It’s dad’s birthday, remember? We all planned to go up to celebrate since we actually gave the time off to do it this year. It’s all weekend, you took this coming Monday off months ago in case we got back late.”

“Oh..”

“You forgot..” He says, removing the towel and slipping on his boxers.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” You say getting off the bed. “Have a lot going on…” You slip into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

A lot has been going on. Thoughts swimming through your mind wondering if he still loves you or if this relationship has run its course after five years of being together. Five years. Is he bored? Is he wanting someone different? Is it you? Is that why he’s never home so he doesn’t have to see you as much?

Stripping out of your clothes, you turn on the shower and step in underneath the constant flowing of water and letting it soak your hair and your body. You wash your hair and your body and make sure to shave just in case he’s packed you any shorts or dresses.

Setting down the razor, you stand there underneath the stream of water and close your eyes. Feeling the overwhelming thoughts creep into your mind again, you slowly sink to the floor of the tub and sob in your hands, careful not to make a sound. The last thing you need or even want right now is for Jake to ask what’s going on.

Stepping out of the shower in just your towel, you find Jake already in bed and reading. Going over to your dresser you pull open the top drawer and retrieve your underwear and pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom to get dressed. Getting dressed in your night clothes, you brush your teeth and finish your facial routine before going back out to the bedroom and climbing into bed.

“I won’t be reading much longer,” He says. “I’ll turn the lamp off when I’m done.”

You nod your head and slip underneath the covers and turn your back towards him. You pull the covers up to your nose and try to keep your body still as the silent sobs take over your body again.

You wake up the next morning to Jake’s alarm going off. Your head is pounding from all the crying, so when you get out of bed you immediately go to the bathroom to retrieve a couple pills of tylenol to take before brushing your teeth.

Within the next hour, the two of you are on your way to the airport. It’s quiet in the car, considering it’s four in the morning. What is there to talk about at four in the morning? Oh wait.. Every single thought that is still plaguing your mind. Shockingly enough he brings you coffee while the two of you wait to board the plane.

“Good morning!” Josh cheerfully smiles as he approaches the two of you with Danny in tow behind him. “You look awful.” He says as he pulls you in for a hug. “But still somehow you look beautiful at the same time.”

You feel a smile tug at both ends of your mouth. “Good morning to you too Josh.”

“(Y/N)!” Sam’s girlfriend exclaims as she and Sam join the group. She throws her arms around you and hugs you tightly. You giggle and hug her back. “Are you doing okay?” She asks. “It’d been a hot minute since we last hung out, my apologies. Work has been demanding..”

You laugh and shake your head. “Oh it’s okay, and I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” She asks quietly so the boys don’t overhear.

You nod your head, fighting the urge to cry. You lift your coffee up to your lips and take another drink. “Alright well I’m around if you want to talk.” You nod your head again and she slips back over to Sam who embraces her in a hug.

The group finally boards the plane and you find yourself in the window seat with Jake beside you and Josh beside him. He tried to reach for your hand but you moved it away and made yourself in the chair. It’s only a couple hour flight but any sleep you can get, you’ll take it.

Landing in Detroit, Sam and Danny go off to find the rental car while the rest of you retrieve suitcases and duffels from baggage claim. You go grab your duffel off of the conveyor belt when Jake grabs it for you.

“Oh..” You say. “I could’ve..” But he was already walking away.

You caught eyes with Sam’s girlfriend and she raises her eyebrows. You shake your head and follow after Jake. Suddenly you’re stopped by a few fans asking for photos with the twins. You and Sam’s girlfriend stand off to the side allowing the boys to have some space while they chat with the fans. You hear Jake laugh, a laugh you haven’t heard in a while. And his smile. His perfect smile. You’re close enough to the doors that you can see Sam and Danny pulling up to the curb with the car and getting out.

“We should head out to the car.” Sam’s girlfriend says as she nudges your side.

“Yeah, okay..” You say.

She walks over to the boys and whispers in Josh’s ear. He smiles and nods his head before saying something back.

“They won’t be much longer.” She says. “Couple minutes.”

She stops you just before the sliding doors and grabs your arm. “Seriously, are you okay? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Okay.. But as soon as we get to the house, we’ll talk.”

You nod your head. “Yeah, sure.” —

“There’s my boys!” Karen exclaims as she greets everyone on the front porch. “You all are just in time for breakfast, I have everything all laid out in the dining room so go help yourselves.”

Jake grabs your hand and tugs you inside and into the dining room. He made sure to sit you next to him and began filling both of your plates with food.

“This good?” He asks. “Or do you want anything else?”

“This is fine.”

“Good.” He places the plate down on the table in front of you and kisses the side of your head.

What?

Breakfast went by with laughter and jokes before the table began to get cleared. “Jake, we’re gonna head out back to kick around the soccer ball, you in?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you out there.” Jake responds before turning to you. “You want to join?” He asks.

You see Sam’s girlfriend waving at you to join her somewhere else. “Uh yeah, later though.” You say squeezing his hand before slipping past him.

“Okay, what is happening?” She says as she pulls you out to the front porch where Ronnie is already sitting with coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. “What is going on with you and Jake?”

Ronnie perks up and puts away her phone. “Uh oh, what’d my brother do?”

“Nothing, nothing..” You shake your head as you sit down on the steps of the porch.

“(Y/N)..” Ronnie says as she gets up from the chair and goes to sit beside you. “Fill me in?” She says looking at Sam’s girlfriend.

“Something that’s not good. You could feel the tension in the airport to and from.” She says. “Now what’s going on?” She says turning to you.

“Nothing..” You say again. “Literally nothing.. There’s nothing happening. No hand holding, nothing intimate. He’s hardly ever home, I’ve only seen him a handful of times in the last few weeks and even then he’s been distant. It seriously feels like he doesn’t love me anymore.”

“But that can’t be true,” Ronnie says. “I know for fact that that man is head over heels in love with you. And all of the PDA this morning?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “We’re around you all. He’s going to show affection because he doesn’t want it to look like we're falling apart.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. “If he doesn’t want to be with me anymore, then he just needs to tell me. I’m tired of being strung along like this.. It fucking sucks and it hurts so bad..”

“Oh god..” Ronnie sighs. She wraps her arms around you and holds you tightly. “Men are idiots.. Have you talked to him?”

You shake your head. “When? He’s barely ever home.”

“Maybe you should talk to him while you two are both here.” She says.

“I can’t do that. I don’t want to ruin your father’s birthday by putting Jake in a mood, Jenny help me out here.”

“She’s not wrong, (Y/N), you need to talk to him. Figure out what’s going on.”

The front door swings open and Jake steps out. “Ronnie, mom needs your help in the kitchen.”

“Can’t you help her?”

“No, she asked for you specifically.” He says.

Ronnie sighs. “I’ll find you later.” She says to you before standing up and heading inside.

“I’m gonna go find Sam,” Jenny says as she nods her head at you. “Maybe I can rope him into helping with the decorations.” She gives your hand a slight squeeze before she stands up from the steps and heads inside as well leaving you and Jake alone on the porch.

You stand up from the porch and straighten out your clothes. “I’m gonna go see if there’s anything I can help with too.” Walking inside and going into the kitchen you catch eyes with Ronnie and shake your head. Now is not the time to discuss Jake’s behavior. “Karen, can I help with anything?” You ask.

“Yes actually, can you grab the pasta for me and strain it?” She says. “Be sure to run cold water through afterwards to cool it down.”

“Of course.”

The oven dings just as Jake walks into the kitchen. “Oh perfect timing,” She smiles at him. “Do you mind grabbing the garlic bread out of the oven for me sweetheart?” She says. Ronnie shoots him a taunting look and he rolls his eyes.

“Sure thing, Mom.” He says as he goes over to the oven. Pulling open the door he leans back away from the heat as it bellows. Grabbing the mitts he reaches for the pan and begins to pull it out when suddenly he hisses and drops it on the top of the stove. “Fuck!” He shakes his hand and steps away from the oven.

“Oh honey, are you okay?” Karen says as she grabs his hand.

“Yeah I’ll be fine..” He says.

“(Y/N), take him upstairs please. There’s cooling cream in the linen closet and gauze as well.”

You nod your head and turn off the cold water before grabbing hold of Jake's other hand and pulling him upstairs to the bathroom. The silence is nothing but uncomfortable as you twisted the cap off of the cream. Aside from Jake’s hissing again as you applied it, neither of you utter a single word. Wrapping his hand with the gauze, you throw away the trash and recap the cream before leaving the bathroom. You felt like you were being suffocated by the tension and you just needed to get away from him.

You find yourself back outside on the front porch and leaning over the railing. You needed to get out of there but you couldn’t take the rental, it was blocked in by Josie’s car and there’s no way you could walk either. You hear the front door and Jake’s boots hit the wood of the porch. He steps beside you and wraps his hands around the railing.

“I think we should talk.” He says.

“We shouldn’t do it here.” You say. “Not now.”

“It’s important..” He says. “We have to.”

“I already have a feeling I know what you’re gonna say so just save it until we get back to Nashville. It’ll make this trip less awkward than it already is.”

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but judging the tone of your voice, I can already tell you that you’re wrong.” He says.

“Then fill me in,” You say. “Because you haven’t been around for three weeks and when you are it just feels like you don’t care anymore that I’m there.. Why am I even here anyways?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend.”

“Am I really?” You turn to face him. “Because lately I just feel like I’m just…here.” Jake leans on the railing once more. A word not falling from his lips. You nod your head and step away from the railing. “Right, well when you figure out what the hell is going with you, then come find me.”

Arriving back in Nashville, the car ride home was spent in silence. Not even the radio was playing. You left your bags still packed by the door as you grabbed your car keys. Jake stops at the foot of the stairs.

“What are you doing?” He says.

You suck in a breath and sling your duffel bag over your shoulder. “I’m gonna stay with Casey.” You say.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow. “What? W-Why?” He stammers as he drops his bags to the floor by his feet.

“Because Jake, you need to figure out whatever it is that you need to figure out. Don’t force this relationship if it’s not what you want anymore..”

“Of course it’s what I want.” He says as he steps up to you. He tries to reach for your hand but you pull away. He sighs and lowers his head. “I want this, I want all of it and I’m sorry that I’ve not shown you that these last few weeks, I guess I’ve just had my priorities out of order…”

“I won’t ask you to make a choice because that’s not fair to you.. But I will ask you to think over this relationship..”

“I don’t need to think this over,” Jake says. “You are what I want.”

“Three weeks feels like an eternity.” You say.

“Give me another chance?” He says peeking up at you.

You can’t deny how cute he looks whenever he looks at you from underneath his eyes. You heave a sigh and drop your bags to the floor. “You know I can never say ‘no’ when you look at me like that.”

“It’s how I won you over at the airport bar.” He says winking at you.

You giggle and shake your head. “Not as romantic as you might think it sounds.” You say. “And you flirted with me over a mango seltzer.”

Jake chuckles. “It still worked.” He says smiling. He pulls you into his body and places his hands on your hips. “I really am sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. I’ve just been so stressed with work that I lost sight of everything that was more important.” He holds you tightly, one arm wrapped around your waist while the one is snaked up your back with his hand resting on the back of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He pulls away slightly to look down at you. “Do you want to know what I’ve missed?” He asks as he presses his body into yours.

“Oh baby, you know I’d never turn down special Jakey time but I’m tired from flying.” You say patting his chest and pulling away.

“You’re not serious?” He says as he watches you head for the stairs. “Hey!”

You stop midway up the stairs and look back at him. “I need sleep.”

“You only lost an hour! How tired could you be?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I just am. Maybe tomorrow we can have some fun.” You turn back around to continue up the stairs.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Jake shouts as he chases after you up the stairs. “Get back here!”

[its-sixxers]

so i went out of town this weekend to take my bf on a business trip, trip itself was fun good times were had toured the town a bit

just about to leave for the four hour drive back home and my car's battery dies. i'm just out of the service region for battery replacement for the motor assocation i'm a member for. get towed five mins into town so they can get a guy to replace my battery.

oops, turns out my alternator is fucked not just my battery! and it's sunday, so no mechanics are open, and we both need to be back in town monday for work! hey, good thing my membership covers one long distance tow right?

no because that first five minute tow counted as my convenience tow.

so several hundred dollars, six hours of waiting, and a four hour tow truck ride in the middle of the night later we get to my mechanics to drop my vehicle off 1 am monday morning

mechanics call me at 11 am this morning going "hey so your alternator is actually fine just replacing the battery tripped all the warning lights in your car, we took it for a long drive and are sure it's fixed yay you don't have to pay for a new alternator"

over the moon i retrieve my car, now not having to rely on my bestie for a ride to work and to my parents' (who happened to just leave on a road trip vacay and charged me with watching the cats), i get my things done for the day and start my drive home relieved

battery light comes on when i stop at a stoplight. but it turns off soon after. ok.jpg

ten minutes later it comes on again at a stop light, then turns off soon after again. oh no.

about ten minutes from my house it turns on again and this time stays on. quick google of the error it throws on my car's screen indicates an alternator problem. of course my mechanic's is closed so i get to fret all night before i can call tomorrow morning.

this all happens JUST as i start being able to put anything in my savings account and pay off my credit card of course

i am also doing dry september this month and man i need a beer

[rehaunting]

hi everyone & happy opening! i want to preface everything by saying that i will be back in my country starting monday and that then is when i will approach plotting with everyone -- thank you for understanding! underneath the read more you can read more about jaeha's life and after-life!

lives a very simple life that leaves little to be jealous of; his dad is a factory worker, his mom a cleaner. they get by, with jaeha receiving clothes one or two sizes bigger so he can wear them no matter how much he grows. although in the end, his parents really give everything for their only son, trying to make his life as comfortable as possible.

he repays them through excellent grades and good behavior. he's never really been of mischievous nature; ready to help whenever, be it given to his family, his classroom teacher, or a complete stranger on the street. indeed - he wears his heart on his sleeve, allowing anyone to touch it, gently or roughly.

however, jaeha is not spared of knowledge that is financial burden. he knows they struggle and that the amount of money his parents are paid is pitiful compared to amount of work they do; as soon as it's possible, he gets a part-time job, to try and help further.

naturally, the day of adulthood comes and naturally, his parents are devastated when they learn jaeha will not be attending - or even attempting at - any university. he wants to get into motion right away instead of wasting any more time and he believes that by becoming a firefighter is the right choice (and he's not exactly eager to work in a factory, after seeing what his dad goes through). all unhappiness aside, they tell him he is an adult who can make his own decisions.

he's a successful firefighter: he is eager to and he learns fast, swallowing any amount of knowledge his seniors / captain can give. he's courageous, too; some even call him fireproof, with the way he doesn't fret away from flame's devouring maw.

little by little, their family gathers enough money to rent an apartment where they can sleep in separate rooms; jaeha is a grown man now, and just as much as they deserve their privacy, so does he.

his death is accidental: he became trapped under debris while on field, soon to be consumed by the flames he was never afraid of. following his death, his parents divorce.

in death he, surprisingly, doesn't find himself drawn to the career of a firefighter--- he finds himself working as an auto-mechanic, in spite of the city's favor towards public transportation. it's enough to pay rent and live, as he doesn't really feel himself needing luxurious items, or fancy dinners.

he's good with his hands, which is also confirmed by his sole memory of his life: him learning to play the guitar at his friend's place.

all in all, jaeha is just trying to get by, unaware of the predicament he finds himself in. like... golden retriever type of guy

bits and pieces is that he can actually play the guitar well, he's allergic to prawns and ironically he can't handle spicy food well.

when it comes to plots, i'm all for brainstorming! some top of the head ideas i have are jaeha helping your character move in / around the town in case they're same floor neighbors; fixing their car or bicycle every so often; your character keeps buying the slice of bread he wants, every single day; laundry mixups at the laundromat... like i said i'm down for anything regardless of what it is or if it even makes sense!

thank you for reading all of this and again i am out of the country rn so i will be bothering everyone when i come back home monday!!

[totowlff]

chapter ten — jackpot

➝ what are the chances of a dream coming true on any given friday?

➝ word count: 3,8k

➝ warnings: mentions of medical procedures

➝ author’s notes: i strongly advise you to translate the parts in german.

Cassie sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to calm herself down before she went into the fertility clinic.

She had come to find out if she could undergo her second attempt at in-vitro fertilization after the first round had failed.

She and Toto had made the decision together to proceed with a second round at her flat a few weeks prior. The following Monday, Cassie called the clinic to find out what the procedure would be like since they had some frozen embryos.

Her doctor explained that, although she would not need to go through the egg retrieval process like the first time, she would need to repeat the cycle of hormones she’d gone through before the first embryo transfer to prepare her uterus for implantation once more. Cassie had a feeling that would be the case, but she was still a bit frustrated when she found out that she would need to wait a month following the period she’d had after the first failed round. Her doctor had explained that it was important to give  her uterus a chance to recover from the first cycle. It was understandable, but Cassie was still anxious. 

Since she and Toto decided to try again, she’d started counting down the days on her wall calendar until she would be able to start a new cycle. It was agonizing — she’d have to wait five weeks to the day after one of the most depressing days of her life.

Finally, the appointed Friday arrived. Cassie woke up early to go to the clinic for a quick fasting blood draw before work to check her hormone levels so her doctor could plan the next cycle. She didn’t mind — it was a race week, so it was better for her to be at the factory early, anyway.

After her blood was drawn, Cassie was told to stop by at the end of the day to receive the results and figure out what her next steps would be. She thanked the nurse and left the clinic, unable to shake her looming anxiety.

The day felt like it was dragging on, even though Cassie was incredibly busy with her race weekend workload. She had also been dealing with her period earlier on in the week, and was still feeling a little fatigued. However, even the urge to go home and lie down on the couch didn’t stop her from going back to the clinic after work for her results, and to find out what was next.

Cassie took a few deep breaths bet getting out of the car and going into the building. She felt her phone vibrate inside her bag as she stepped into the clinic’s waiting room, but ignored it for a moment while she said hello to the receptionist. 

— Good afternoon, Miss Aldersey — she said.

— Good afternoon, Ashley, I came to get the results of my blood test from this morning — Cassie replied. 

While Ashley typed something into her computer, Cassie opened her purse and checked her phone. Toto had sent her a message.  “I'll answer him later”, she thought, shoving the phone back into her purse.

— Of course, Miss Aldersey. Could you follow me? — the receptionist said, while getting up to lead her to a private room. It was just like when she’d started this process and received her blood test results and instructions.

Cassie didn’t find the experience of having to go through all of this again very pleasant. She had hoped to go through this only once and only return to check on issues related to the health of the baby growing inside her. But fate, God, coincidences, chance, or some other entity ensured that she wasn’t pregnant after her first embryo transfer.

Upon entering the room, Ashley asked her to sit down and wait for the nurse to arrive so they could review her results. While she waited, she fished her cell phone out of her purse to check the message Toto had sent her. It was direct and simple.

“Is everything going okay? How are your blood tests?”, his message read.

Cassie wrote that she was waiting on the nurse and put her phone back in her bag as soon as she tapped “send”. As soon as she zipped up her purse, Martina, the head nurse at the clinic, knocked on the door and let herself in.

— Good afternoon, Miss Aldersey, how are you?

— I’m okay, Martina. How about you?

— I'm fine, honey. So, let’s talk about your results.

— Okay.

— Your hormone levels are very good, which leads us to believe that you’re making good progress so far.

— I'm glad — Cassie said.

— It is normal for these levels to double every two days, so these high numbers are what we expect to see — Martina said, pointing out some numbers on the clipboard she was showing Cassie —  They are within the expected range for the beginning of a healthy pregnancy.

Cassie blinked, stunned.

— I'm sorry, but did you say pregnancy?

— Yes, Miss Aldersey.

More silence.

— I think there's been a mistake, Martina.

The woman widened her eyes.

— Why makes you think that, Miss Aldersey?

— My first cycle didn't work out. I… I thought this blood test was to do a check for my hormones before another embryo transfer. Why are you talking about pregnancy?

The woman looked down at the test results in her hands, then back up at Cassie.

— Well, your results indicate that there are levels of hCG in your blood that are consistent with that of a pregnant woman.

She felt her heart skipping a beat.

— Martina, that doesn't make any sense — Cassie said — I did the tests before, nothing was detected, I had my period right after, and another period just finished. There must have been some sort of mix-up in the lab or something...

— Miss Aldersey, you were the only patient who had a blood draw today. There weren’t any other samples in the lab to mix yours up with.

Cassie blinked. She felt like the floor was disappearing under her feet.

— But... But... Is there a chance that there was some… Mistake… A false positive?

— It’s not impossible, but it’s not likely — Martina replied, looking again at the papers in her hand, reading the numbers printed on them. When she saw the look on Cassie's face, she looked thoughtful for a moment — Well, if I may ask... Have you had sexual intercourse in the last five weeks?

The image of Toto above her, his face contorted in an expression of pure pleasure as he came inside her filled Cassie's mind. It had been… 

Four weeks.

— Uh, well… Y-yes — Cassie stammered, a little dazed.

Martina smiled.

— Well, then I believe that there is a high likelihood that you conceived naturally since your last period.

Cassie was having a hard time wrapping her head around it. No, it wasn’t possible.

— But, my period just ended…

— Was the flow lighter than normal?

Cassie thought for a second, before tentatively nodding.

— It was probably implantation bleeding, which is quite common in the first few weeks of pregnancy. 

Cassie fell silent, and her heart was beating so fast she thought it would explode inside her chest. Her breathing was heavy, her hands had started to shake. It seemed too surreal to be true. “Am I dreaming?”, she wondered.

— Miss Aldersey — Martina said, crouching down in front of her and placing her hands on Cassie’s knees, a wide smile on her face — You did it. You're pregnant.

— I'm pregnant — she repeated, as if in a trance.

— You’re going to be a mum.

— I’m going to be a mum — Cassie repeated.

— Yes, there's a little baby growing inside you right now. And it is doing very well, Miss Aldersey, if your hormone levels are any indication.

Cassie’s head was floating, her body numb. It couldn’t be.

— Fuck — she muttered.

Martina laughed.

— I know this isn’t usually how women find out they’re pregnant, but it's a special moment nonetheless, don’t you think?

— What now?

The head nurse smiled.

— Well, in case of success at conception, we refer the patient to an obstetrician for pregnancy care. 

— But… What should I do?

— I'm sorry, I don't understand, Miss Aldersey.

— I mean, there’s so much to do now, like… do I buy maternity clothes? Should I start putting that… cocoa bu4tter lotion on my belly? Do I put in for leave at work? Do I already choose the hospital where I will give birth? Should I start getting the nursery ready? What about the name? — she asked, gesturing wildly. She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself. It felt like all the pregnancy articles she'd read up until then started to jumble together in her head.

— I know it’s a lot to think about, but I think you could start by telling your partner that he's going to be a father.

The word 'father' made Cassie's heart skip a beat. Not only had she become a mother-to-be, but Toto had also become a father-to-be. He needed to know that he was going to have a child. He needed to know that they had done it, in more ways than one.

But Toto was in Spain. She couldn’t possibly tell him over the phone.

The rest of the conversation with Martina was a blur. Cassie received prescriptions, a referral to an obstetrician, and a pair of white crocheted baby booties from the clinic, and the well-wishes of the nurse and staff.

Back in the car, Cassie had no idea what to do. She felt dazed, lost, and a little scared. She had gone to start a second fertilization cycle and left the clinic with the news she had been waiting for months, something she’d wanted more than anything. Instead of feeling joy, she felt an almost-paralyzing fear.

Staring at the silver Mercedes logo on the steering wheel, resting her hands on her stomach, Cassie only snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the insistent vibrating of her phone inside of her purse. She dug it out again and saw Toto’s name on the caller ID. 

— Hello?

— Hi, Cassie. Is everything okay?

"You are going to be a father".

— Yes — she replied, in a thin voice.

— How did things go at the clinic?

"I'm pregnant".

— Things went… Fine  — Cassie said, hesitantly.

Toto was quiet on the other end of the line, like he knew something was up.

— Are you sure, Cassie? Any issues with the results?

"We are going to have a child".

— Yes. There was a… Change.

— Change? What kind of change? You weren't taking any medications.

"In our life, forever".

— I know, but… It's just… Toto, this is something I'd like to talk to you about in person.

More silence on the other end of the line.

— It is serious?

“Do you consider having a child serious, Toto?”

— No, not really. What time do you come back on Sunday?

— I believe I'll be in Oxford by early evening. I can stop by your flat before I go home. How about that?

— Perfect — she replied, forcing herself to smile. If she sounded more optimistic, over the phone, maybe Toto would worry less.

He said goodbye to her and hung up the phone. After staring at her own reflection on the screen for a few seconds, Cassie leaned her head against the back of the seat, letting out a long sigh, bringing her hand to her stomach.

She would lose it by then.

The weekend was agonizing. Cassie's effort to think about anything other than the fact that there was a human being growing inside her was futile. She seemed to sabotage herself at every turn, whether it was spending time doing research, browsing Instagram and looking at other people’s baby pictures, or watching free and qualifying practices, hoping to see a little bit of Toto.

“Does he have any idea what I'm going to tell him?” she wondered, staring at the image of him on the television, his jaw set in concentration as he sat at the engineering station. It made Cassie think of his expression when he was inside her, promising that he would give a child to her. He unknowingly fulfilled his promise that night.

Cassie was far more nervous on Sunday morning. She was so distracted that she couldn’t finish anything she’d started. She was having breakfast when she decided to take a shower. In the middle of the shower, she remembered something that she wanted to look something up. She left something out on the counter instead of putting it in the refrigerator. Her nerves were so bad that her stomach was twisting and churning, making her throw out the uneaten half of her breakfast. When she tried to put on her deodorant, she recoiled at the smell and became immediately nauseous. 

— Thanks for letting me know you're there, little brat — she muttered, getting up from in front of the toilet to brush her teeth and get the taste of bile out of her mouth.

After leaving the bathroom, Cassie went back for something she had bought at the end of the first fertilization cycle, when she still hoped she was pregnant. She dug through her bedroom closet, moving aside some clothes and a few boxes until she found what she was looking for. It was a small box. She took the package in her hand and sat on the edge of her bed to open the lid, revealing a small onesie nestled in some teal tissue paper, smiling at it. It had a race car and some text that said “Future Mercedes Driver” on it. Cassie thought it was too cute to resist ordering when she saw it online.

It was how she’d planned on surprising Toto with the good news the first time, but when the first IVF cycle failed, she shoved the box deep into her closet, because remembering she had it was too painful. But now it was real. The onesie had an owner growing inside of her, and the owner’s father needed to know.

At the end of the day, Cassie received a message from Toto, a heads-up that he was returning from Barcelona and that his flight would be landing after about two hours. She sent a thumbs-up emoji, for lack of anything better to say to him other than "you're going to be a father".

Those few hours felt so long. Not even the fourth episode of Girlboss managed to distract Cassie from looking at the little white box resting on her coffee table. Her eyes were glued to her phone’s clock, and she was practically praying for time to pass faster so her anticipation and nerves would be resolved sooner. She just wanted to be able to tell Toto so that they would be able to enjoy the moment together. Only when Toto, the man who had been dreaming of this with her, knew, would she be able to relax.

The sound of the doorbell made her jump off the couch and practically sprint to the button near her door that opened the building’s exterior door. A few seconds later, Cassie heard a knock on the door to her flat. She broke into a smile as she opened it, and could feel her heart pounding in her chest. 

— Good evening, Cassie — Toto said.

— Good evening — she replied, exerting a great deal of effort to appear nonchalant  — Come in.

He walked past her and toed off his shoes in the hallway as Cassie closed the door. She felt like her whole body was trembling. Taking a second to breathe, she followed after him, who had headed into the living room, where the episode of Girlboss was paused.

— Well, I was going to stop by today anyway, but you said you needed to talk to me, so I decided to stop by before I went home.

— Yes, I needed… I need to.

— Well, I'm here. 

Cassie stared at him in silence for a few seconds.. “How do you start this kind of conversation?”, she wondered. Her hesitation caused Toto to look concerned.

— Cassie, is there something wrong? Did something show up on your blood test?

— I think you'd better sit down — she said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Cassie, I'm not going to do anything until you tell me what’s wrong. Please, tell me.

The words got stuck in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears. Even before the first tear could run down her cheek, Toto got close to her, cradling her face gently in his hands.

— Cassandra, if you don't tell me, I won't know how to help you.

— Toto — she sniffed, placing one of her hands over his. 

— Come on, my angel, tell me.

She looked at him. Hearing him call her “my angel” sent a tingle down her spine, but it gave her the resolve to finally speak.

— There was… A change in the hormone levels on my blood test.

— What kind of change?

— The level of a hormone called ‘hCG’ is… Elevated — she whispered.

Toto blinked.

— Is that serious?

— Well, it depends.

— Depends on… What?

— How serious is a child for you?

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Toto’s face became puzzled.

— What?

— I'm pregnant — she finally managed to say. Tears were falling down her face in earnest now — We're having a baby.

After a few seconds, Toto cracked a smile. Not just any smile, a wide smile, the kind that went all the way to his eyes and caused the top of his nose to crinkle. His eyes were shining with tears too, but he could only laugh. Removing his hands from her face, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into a hug, spinning with Cassie in the middle of the room, their laughter echoing through the apartment.

— We're going to have a baby — Toto repeated as she held onto his neck, laughing and crying at the same time. She had never felt so happy in her life, not even with her professional achievements. And that realization was, at the same time, incredible and frightening.

Suddenly, he stopped, setting Cassie on the ground.

— Fuck, you shouldn't have done that, right? — he asked, in a slightly worried tone. — Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby?

Cassie laughed.

— No, I'm fine. And considering the baby is the size of a poppy seed, I don't think it cares too much at this point.

— But how? When? The first cycle failed — he stopped for a few seconds.

— Yes, the IVF failed, but, uh… The other method did not.

He blinked.

— We hit the jackpot — Cassie smirked, placing a hand on her stomach.

Looking down at her hand, Toto was silent. It was like he was trying to take everything in, trying to convince himself that it was real. 

He was trying to convince himself that he was going to be a father.

— Fuck — he muttered.

— Don't talk like that in front of our child.

— Sorry.

— It’s okay — she whispered, with a smile on her face.

After a few more seconds

— Can I talk to her? — he asked quietly.

— To the baby? — Cassie asked. She was a little confused.

— Yeah.

— Of course — she replied — It's your child too.

Taking her hand, Toto walked over to the couch and sat down, positioning Cassie between his knees. Then, he took his hands to the shirt she was wearing and lifted it a little, enough so that her navel showed, just above the line of the shorts she was wearing. There weren't any signs that could suggest a pregnancy yet, but Cassie started crying again anyway. Then he looked up at Cassie, as if he was considering a question he would ask.

— Toto?

— Can I speak German with her? I want to… Express myself properly.

— You can talk to her in whatever language you’d like. Even in Tengwar, for all I care.

He smiled again.

— That’s from Lord of the Rings, right? I don’t speak that, but I can learn. I'm good with languages.

— I know, mister polyglot — Cassie chuckled, rolling her eyes a little.

Turning his eyes to her belly, he took a deep breath.

— Hallo Tochter. Oder Sohn, aber ich bin sicher, du bist ein kleines Mädchen. Dein Vater spricht. Ich bin so froh, dass du endlich auf dem Weg bist. Du hast keine Ahnung, wie oft ich von dir geträumt habe. Mit dir und deiner Mutter. Du wachst neben mir auf, machst gemeinsam Frühstück, spielst auf unserem Rasen. Und jetzt, du bist hier, bei uns. Na ja, nicht gerade bei uns, denn du hast noch etwas Zeit im Bauch deiner Mutter, aber du bist in gewisser Weise hier.

Cassie was a little embarrassed that she only knew two modern languages, unlike Toto, who spoke five fluently, with only a slight accent. She had taken French lessons during her school years, but she hadn't actually retained much of it. In college, she learned modern and ancient Greek as well as Latin, which was of little use in the marketing world.

However, maybe it was better that Cassie couldn’t understand German. Toto was speaking to their child in his mother tongue, in the way he felt most comfortable. It was like seeing him for real, freed from the filters that other languages put on his words.

— Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich kennenzulernen, Tochter. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich in meinen Armen zu halten und in deine Augen zu sehen, die wahrscheinlich der schönste Braunton der Welt sein werden. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, Küsse auf deinen Kopf zu pflanzen, der mit roten Strähnen bedeckt ist, wie der deiner Mutter. Du wirst so schön sein wie deine Mutter, da bin ich mir sicher. Und ich werde genauso verrückt nach dir sein, wie ich verrückt nach ihr bin.

Cassie thought she could puzzle out a few of the words he was saying, just because they sounded similar to words in English, like ‘tochter’, which sounded like ‘daughter’, and ‘sohn’, which had to mean ‘son’. She also recognized the word ‘mutter’, which she assumed was ‘mother’, which made her think maybe he was mentioning her, but that was the extent of what she could understand.

— Ich werde immer für dich da sein, meine Tochter. Für dich und deine Mutter. Ich liebe dich, Tochter, ich liebe dich, und ich liebe deine Mutter. Ihr beide seid mir das Wichtigste auf der Welt. Die einzigen Dinge, die zählen — Toto spoke softly, resting his head on her stomach. Cassie then brought her hands to his head, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.

— Thank you — she murmured.

He looked up, a little startled.

— For what?

— For keeping your promise.

Toto smiled as he stood up, embracing Cassie in a warm hug. He looked down at her with a fond look on his face.

— I will always keep my promises to you, Cassandra. Always.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Bezzle excerpt (Part VI)

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

It's launch-week for my new novel The Bezzle, a high-tech, revenge-soaked crime thriller in which my intrepid forensic accountant Martin Hench must pit his wits against unbelievably evil (and sadly true-to-life) prison-tech grifters:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

As part of the launch, I'm serializing part of Chapter 14, a side-plot about music royalty theft and the (again, sadly true-to-life) corruption of the LA Sheriffs Deputies, who are organized into criminal gangs that murder, run drugs and intimidate with impunity:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/deputy-gangs-cancer-los-angeles-county-sheriffs-department-scathing-re-rcna73367

Today marks the sixth and final installment of the serial, but you can hear me read more of the book. Just show up at one of the stops on my book tour! Tomorrow (Feb 24) in LA, I'm appearing on Saturday evening with AdamC onover at Vroman's:

https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle<

And then on Monday I'll be in Seattle at Third Place Books with Neal Stephenson:

https://www.thirdplacebooks.com/event/cory-doctorow

From there, I'm off to Portland, Phoenix, Tucson and points further:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Here's part one of the serial:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/17/the-steve-soul-caper/#lead-singer-disease

Part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#copyright-termination

Part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#lawyer-up

Part four:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#poacher-turned-keeper

Part five:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#acab

And now, the thrilling conclusion!

Benedetto was outraged by my face and swore he’d sue the Sheriff’s Department on my behalf. He got even angrier when I got stopped again, the following week, as I was leaving my concussion checkup at the Kaiser hospital on Sunset by a sheriff’s deputy who had me pull over in front of the big Scientology building. This deputy was a little bantam rooster of a fellow, with a shiny bald head and mirror shades and no neck. He strutted up to my car, got me out of it, ran my ID, and frisked me. “Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?” he said. He had that cop knack for making “sir” sound like “motherfucker.”

“No, sir,” I said, trying it out myself.

He didn’t like that and leaned in close enough for me to smell his aftershave and the scented sunscreen on his bare scalp.

“I stopped you, sir, because you were using your phone while driving.”

I must have looked surprised.

“I personally saw you tapping at your phone screen. That is a misdemeanor, sir. Reckless driving.”

He stopped as if waiting for me to respond. I made myself go mild. “Sir, I did not use my phone.”

He was waiting for that. He narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer. “Are you telling me I didn’t see what I saw?”

Mild, Marty, mild. “I don’t know what you saw, sir, but I didn’t use my phone.”

He rocked back and tilted his head. Patients went by with crutches and walkers. Nurses and doctors passed in scrubs. Scientologists scurried in and out of their gigantic temple. A fruit cart man labored past us.

“Well, sir, this should be simple enough to resolve.” He reached for his belt and pulled out a generic ruggedized cop-­rectangle of gear, and unspooled a multiheaded cable from its side. He leaned into the rental and retrieved my phone, and squinted at its I/O port, then attached the cable to my phone. The rugged rectangle beeped. “I’m gathering forensics on your mobile device, sir,” he said.

I’d figured that out already. My phone—­like yours and ­everyone else’s—­was a trove of my most intimate information, a record of all the places I’d been and people I’d spoken to and all the things I’d said to them. It was full of photos and passwords and client files and voice memos. It was more information than any judge would have granted a warrant for on a reckless-­driving rap.

The little man smirked as he held my phone and his gadget. I stayed mild as milk. I was running full-­device encryption. I’m no computer security expert, but I spend a lot of time around them, and they’d been insistent on this point, and had made reference to this very scenario in describing why I would bother to dig around my phone’s settings to turn this on.

God, my face hurt. I didn’t know how long the gadget was supposed to take, but from the cop’s increasing impatience, I could tell it was going long.

Beep. The cop shaded the gadget’s little screen from the punishing LA sun with one hand and peered at it.

“Sir, I need you to unlock this device, please.”

My face hurt. Be mild, Marty. “I invoke my right to counsel,” I said.

He pursed his lips. “Sir, if you would please enter your unlock code, we can verify whether your device is in use and we can both be on our way.”

“I invoke my right to remain silent.” I said it straight into his bodycam.

He sighed and looked irritated. I had known Benedetto for so long that I had once had to dial his number from a landline. I’d long ago memorized his office’s number, 1–­800-­LAWER4U. He’d bought it early, back before 800 numbers got expensive, and he’d had plenty of offers for it. He’d kept it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/23/gazeteer/#fin

[kholden83]

So, I spend Easter weekend dying of pneumonia (exaggeration), and thus missed a bunch of family who were in town very briefly, and also just all the fun.

It was also the weekend I should have picked my medication packaging, but, well, I was too sick for that too. My new fortnight of packaging was supposed to start on Monday, and all the people I'd consider asking to fetch them were busy with the fun, and I got kinda RSD at nobody seeming to miss me. So I didn't have Monday's pills to take, and I started feeling withdrawal symptoms for my antidepressant on Monday night. FUN (sarcasm). That was also when my chest cold decided it was time to be a head cold too, and my sinuses just solidified. Nothing was getting through my nose between 11pm and like 3am

Thankfully, this morning (tuesday) I remembered that I'd forgotten one morning's worth of pills when I was visiting Dad in January, dug those out of the take-back-to-the-chemist-eventually pile, and took them, and about lunch time that plus my somewhat-improved respiratory condition let me finally go retrieve stuff. I usually visit both Coles and Aldi on pill retrieval weekend, but I just did Coles because I am still unwell. Also I usually go with my sister in her car, not by myself with my motorscooter, so I did have to be mindful of cargo space.

Oh, and it was termite inspection morning, which my landlord forgot (?) to tell me about Yet Again. Thankfully one of my neighbours had mentioned it, so I had at least put on a nightie when I got up.

[n0t-1nt3r3st1ng]

Vulture!Wednesday AU Part 3

There are a few days before the clubs officially start, so Wednesday's afternoon's are free for the moment.

It seems the radio hierarchy has already been decided. It doesn't matter to her. Her original plan was to take a 'reporter' role as to have an excuse to roam unbothered. This wouldn't need to change.But that was the future, for now, she had to assemble her hangar back at home.

Lurch had already left her tools on her doorstep by the time she made it back. His family hadn't been able to stay any longer, not with Lurch's warrant still active in the state.

They or more accurately her father, had left her a final gift back at home. Parked on the driveway, a black Jaguar E-Type with the keys in the ignition. Her father knew she liked it as it belonged to the fictional master criminal known as Diabolik. One of her few friends and former flame, Joel Glicker who had tried and failed to find common interests during the small time they've been together. In the end they had parted their ways but this had been his biggest success.

Wednesday examined the car, found it adequate for her needs and headed inside. Then she stopped. 

Mixed in the air was a scent she knew all too well. She stood still, waiting. One moment, two. Then the faint sound of tapping over the wooden planks sounded in the next room. 

She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes examining the broken furniture, the thick layer of dust covering the floor. All except a few small tracks leading to a ripped, worned down, leather chair. She approached without making a sound before shoving her hand deep inside. After a moment of struggle, she retrieved her hand along with another appendage.

"Hello, Thing." She greeted the newcomer with a satisfied smile.

The hand tried to release itself from her grip but she grabbed it with both hands and held it high.

"Did you really think my highly trained olfactory sense wouldn't pick up on the faint whiff of neroli and bergamot in your favorite hand lotion? She asked while carrying him over to the boxes at the entrance. The hand struggled, her grip tightened. "I can do this all day."

She slammed her hand on one of the boxes and held it, pinning it. Thing could do nothing but to shake in fear.

"Surrender?" Wednesday asked. Thing tapped out. She released him

"Mother and Father sent you to spy on me, didn't they?" Wednesday asked. Thing signaled 'No'. She took a deep breath. "I don't have the time to waste. The power isn't connected yet. I offer you this, pledge your undying loyalty to me. If you don't, I'll lock you inside one of the boxes and throw you into the sea. I trust I don't have to tell you what the sea water will do to your nails and smooth, supple skin."

She stared at the hand for a moment. Thing prostrated himself before her.

"Good." Wednesday smiled. "Now grab the toolbox, if we hurry we might finish rewiring the house by midnight."

The work took them over a week, finishing only thanks to Lurch's help over the weekend. Now that her home met her standards, Wednesday arrived Monday morning ready to continue her cover. Especially since today she'd enter, or more accurately, request admission to the radio club.

Nevermore Academy had originally been housed in a large, gothic-style castle, surrounded by dark forests and mountains. Thanks to the expansion of the city, multiple additions to the structure as well as nearby properties had been made for special clubs or classes. The radio club was located on one of the towers facing the ever growing city. Unlike the other towers, this one had a flat roof where one could see tall antennas stretching skyward.

Wednesday stopped before the door, checked her uniform for any wrinkles and knocked on the door.No response but she could hear people speaking inside the room. She knocked again.

The door opened and a tall, caucasian boy stared at her with olive eyes. He wore the Nevermore outfit, the exception being a school-colored hoodie underneath his blazer.

"Hey." He greeted her with a smile he must've thought was charming.

"I'm here for the radio club." Wednesday replied, trying not to roll her eyes at him.

There was a loud noise, followed by shouting and an argument. The boy looked behind him before turning back to Wednesday.

"Listen, it's not the best time, but if you give me your number I'll be sure to call you the second ." The boy gave her a playful gaze but was cut off by a slamming sound. He turned around, shouting and dashed inside.

Wednesday was alone at the doorstep, thinking this might not have been a good idea after all. She entered the room and looked around. It was the first floor of the tower and there wasn't much to look at. The floor seemed unoccupied except for a few cables that went from the roof to a power outlet on the wall and a set of stairs to the second floor. According to her parents, the towers had three floors each and she was starting to get curious about how they managed to arrange the others.

The sound of heavy steps caught her attention. 

Another boy, one smaller and thinner than the one who greeted her came down. He had brown eyes and short brown hair that he wore with a side part. Over his face rested a pair of brown and gold-patterned glasses. His uniform looked pristine.

The boy rushed down the stairs but stopped on his tracks when he noticed Wednesday. Despite his impeccably dressed attire, his face appeared disheveled, bearing an unhinged expression. There was also something in his eyes when he saw Wednesday. A mix of shock, anger and ... recognition? Which was a surprise for Wednesday who was sure she had never met him in her life.

"Rowan, wait!" The voice from the first boy sounded from upstairs broke the tension and the boy, Rowan, exited the room in a hurry.

The first boy descended the stairs two steps at the time but wasn't fast enough. He ran after Rowan, leaving Wednesday alone.

No, not alone, Wednesday realized. Rowan, for whatever reason, had been arguing with someone upstairs. Wednesday could only hope while she walked upstairs, that whoever they were, they were the sensible ones.

The second floor looked like an actual reception. There was a large sofa against one of the walls, chairs and a table. One of the other walls had a small library with vinyl records while its opposite was filled with posters promoting upcoming shows or town activities. Wednesday saw it was empty and moved upwards, where the heart of the radio station should be. 

At the top of the stairs, a corridor stretched out, lined with closed doors bearing signs indicating a studio, control rooms, and one open door. There was the sound of brushing paper coming from it. Wednesday headed towards it and found a fluffy mass of black hair and brown eyes staring at her.

Said eyes and hair belonged to a young brown skinned boy. He too wore the Nevermore uniform with the blazer unbuttoned and the sweater vest showing. He also had a pair of black glasses. The boy was picking up a large amount of paper sheets from the floor.

"Can I help you?" The boy finally spoke. His voice was shaky and nervous.

"I'm here for the radio club." Wednesday said for the second time that evening. "I wanted to apply."

The boy's face illuminated after hearing her and rushed to stand up and offer her his hand. Such display of coordination was too much for him and he ended up tripping and landed on his knees.

Wanting to make a good impression, Wednesday offered him a hand which the boy took.

"Thanks." The boy said, adjusting his glasses. "I'm Eugene. Eugene Ottinger, I guess you could say I'm the president of the radio club."

"Wednesday. Wednesday Addams." Wednesday replied. If this is the president, she thought, she'd be running the club by the end of the day.

"Sorry for the mess." Eugene gestured at the floor. "There was a little accident."

"Yes, Rowan. I saw him on my way up." Wednesday replied without caring.

"Oh." Eugene said, ashamed. "Yeah, we had a little disagreement."

"From where I was standing all I could hear was him screaming. I assume he's also the one responsible for all of this?" Wednesday gestured at the floor. Eugene gave her an uncomfortable nod. "It seemed to me it was less of an argument and more of a meltdown."

"It's not his fault. Rowan is a psychic, using his powers gets him stressed." Eugene defended the other boy.

"If he's not capable enough to handle the backlash of his abilities then he shouldn't use them. I see no reason for him to take his frustration with you. You aren't a stress ball." Wednesday was repeating almost word for word an article she had read the first time she had been assigned mandatory therapy. She had cursed her flawless memory for retaining such useless information at the time. Who'd have known it would be useful one day? It almost made her regret filling the doctor's office with spiders. Almost.The words seemed to have worked better than expected. Eugene gave her a bright smile and his posture changed. He was relaxed with Wednesday. An error most people only committed once.

"Thanks." He said, the smile never leaving his face.

"Would you like some help?" Wednesday asked.

Eugene looked at her confused before remembering the papers still on the floor. They picked it up and Eugene thanked her once she handed her share. They stared at each other in an uncomfortable silence.

"So, about joining?" Wednesday asks, breaking the uncomfortable spell.

"Oh, right. Uhm, we don't really have too many openings?" He said with a guilty tone. "The school and the city might be bigger but many normies still don't trust us. There's not much we can do or places they allow us. The radio club, I mean, it's not like segregation. Not that I'm-"

"I understand." Wednesday cut him off before he'd start rumbling.

"Look, honestly? I'm doing this for the bees." Eugene said.

Wednesday tilted her head in confusion.

"It's better if I show you." Eugene said and guided her to the end of the corridor. 

Against the wall was a small ladder leading up to a roof hatch. Wednesday followed up Eugene to the roof of the tower. The roof, made of sturdy rock, extended seamlessly from the tower. Its surface, weathered by the elements, bore the marks of countless footsteps and drag marks from the equipment.

Upon the roof, a cluster of sleek antennas reached towards the sky, their metallic frames intertwined like a web of connectivity. Intertwined with the antennas were carefully placed beehives, creating a harmonious coexistence between technology and nature.

The beehives were full of little bees which jumped to Eugene the moment he set foot in the room. He laughed and the swarm began flying in circles around them.

"It's fine, they won't hurt you." Eugene assured her.

"Pity, I've always found their sting to be quite pleasant." Wednesday replied. "But why are there here?"

"Because of that." Eugene replied pointing away. The view of the city from the tower let them see just how big it was getting. The city now stretched from the sea to a nearby lake and bordered the forest. Six skyscrapers could be seen, all in different states of construction and other high-rise buildings stretched to the sky. "The whole city is a project from one construction firm, you know? They first renovated the buildings, then expanded and made new houses."

"You're from here?" Wednesday asked.

"Next town over." Eugene replied. "But that was before. When Needler Development, that's what the construction firm is called, started to make the town, they offered the new houses to the people in my town at a discount. My moms saw what was coming and picked one in the lots further away but then construction went into overdrive. Our house is in the suburbs now. They started cutting down the forest, it didn't matter to them how many animals they displaced."

"Or how many beehives they destroyed." Wednesday said.

"Exactly." Eugene nodded. "And it's not like their population was strong to begin with. There's this new disease among the bees, nobody knows where it came from. Decimated entire communities. my mums tried to get them to stop, showed them environmental impacts. Nothing. No answer or maybe a 'we'll look into it'."

"Yet the expansion seems to have stopped."

"That's because some of the houses they built weren't up to code." Eugene replied. "There were a few accidents, a few cave-ins. They decided to stop and build upward, I guess."

"It doesn't explain what it has to do with the radio club." Wednesday said.

"The school lets me keep them here for as long as there's a club. It's my power. I've been trying to rebuild their numbers but not many people are interested. Do you know what'll happen if enough bees die?"

"The ecosystem fails at a basic level, a ripple effect that could end life as we know it." Wednesday replied.

"I think you're the first person who put it that way." Eugene replied.

"There's no way to 'put it'. That's the way it is."

"Well, Weems had closed the newspaper when I first came here. My mum, Janet, not my other mum, had been talking about the radio stations. I thought, why not? I knew Rowan, he's smart. He knew Xavier - he's the one who opened the door. It wasn't much at the beginning but it just kinda grew? Then came Bianca..."

"But all you really care about is the beehives." Wednesday finished.

"I know it sounds bad and I told the others about it..."

"If they still wish to remain after you tell them your objectives, then your goals aren't as bad as you might think." Wednesday replied.

"So, even though I don't know if there's something for you to do, you still want in?" Eugene asked.

"Of course." Wednesday replied and she extended her hand.

"Then welcome to BuzzRadio, Wednesday Addams." Eugine replied, shaking her hand.

"It's an honor." Wednesday replied.

Perhaps she wouldn't have to take over after all, Wednesday though.

[oldguy56-world]

The Way We Were

The older I get the more I like when things stay the same. When I was young (oh so long ago) I could roll with the punches and adapt to whatever came my way. Now I have rolls and am very punchy with neither of those being good. Perhaps you can stand the little things I find irksome but really I can't. I tried writing a letter to the 'Why the hell are there so many changes' department of the federal government but it was returned to me with I believe a tracking device embedded somewhere in the envelope. Not to worry. I put it in the trunk of a friend's car and because he never cleans it the envelope will stay there forever (or until he gets a new car) so the government can keep tabs on him instead of me.

I like the way things were, and sometimes are, but it is the constant changes that are hard to deal with.

Here are the things that bug me, really bug me, that cause a change in my daily routine.

The Hydro goes out. No matter what time of day this happens it interrupts my TV time and forces me to do...What? I have nothing else to do except on Mondays when I write. The rest of the week is down time to give my wrists time to heal. I can barely handle the remote but I cope. And don't get me started on having to reset things like my printer that seems to want to reprint old letters for some reason.

Cable out. You might think that this is the same as above but have you noticed that when the power is out and comes back on everything is ready to go except cable. This takes much longer for some reason.

Have you ever tried to go into your email or pay a bill and randomly you are asked to identify yourself? The gods of the internet can see I am using the same laptop as always and I am sure they also can see through my camera and know it is me. I would give them the finger but I suspect I would never be able to access anything ever again.

A few months ago my favorite pen rolled under the bookcase near my desk. It is still there as I am positive I would throw out my back retrieving it. When I was young I would have lifted the bookcase with one hand and picked up the pen with the other.

The first time I visited my hometown I tried to see some friends. It is a simple place to get around or should I say was a simple place to get around. Streets had disappeared, some were now dead ends, favorite restaurants now offered tattooing, and many other magnificent changes. Because of these things I left and went back to where i live now. My friends have no idea how close they came to a visit from me.

Why are there so many phone updates? Every time there is one I lose the ability to access one of the rare apps I have on my Apple 2. I can still phone or text but that is about it. There was nothing wrong with this phone when I got it so please leave it alone.

I hate smart TV's. There I said it. I used to enjoy sitting down and watching something uninterrupted (unless the power or cable went out) but now, in the middle of a show, my 'Smart TV' believes this is the best time to reboot itself. If it was really smart it would recognize it is getting close to being tossed from our balcony.

Finally, stop discontinuing foods I like. At my age putting out things with less sugar, no msg, gluten free, or anything else supposedly healthy is just a shock to my system.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: All the data shows that the largest growing segment of the population is seniors. Someone in marketing should smarten up and start listening to us.

[emerysaks]

Chapter 3 - A Little Help From Their Friend

Note: sorry these last five are down to the wire. December was rather unkind to my family with several bouts of sickness and my grandmother being hospitalized for a stroke the week before Christmas. She is doing better, but the majority of my time has been spent at doctors' offices and the hospital this month.

<i>one final glance at the nearby doorway, Jarvis activated the countdown and quickly made his way back to the elevator. He grabbed his umbrella from the door and focused his attention on his watch as the car descended. The secondhand ticked by 11 when he stepped out of the car, and 10 seconds later, as the building door clicked shut behind him on 12, the lights in the building flickered ominously, and then the building plunged into darkness.</i>

Peggy was at the desk in the study when every light in the room flickered off, and the room was plunged into darkness. A faint hint of daylight streamed into the room through the windows, but she knew that would soon be gone as night fell. A narrow beam of yellow light filled the room, and Peggy headed for the front hallway. She felt along the wall to her desk, retrieved the torch she always kept for emergencies, and clicked it on. 

Angie’s voice floated down from the upstairs balcony. “Peggy, all of the lights are out up here!”

“Yes, I can see that,” Peggy said with a dry laugh. “I’m going to check and see if it’s merely us or the entire building is out. Stay put until I can bring you a torch.”

There was a pause, and then, “Do you think an open flame is safe?”

Peggy sighed. “A light, Angie.”

“A flashlight?”

“Yes.”

“Well, speak English, English!”

Peggy rolled her eyes and opened the front door to complete darkness. 

Well, that answered that question.

“Is it the whole building?” Angie called.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Peggy said and closed the door. “Stay put. I’ll come to you.” She swung the light around and bit back a scream. Angie stood before her with a small torch in her hand.

“Found a flashlight in the bathroom,” she said. 

Peggy placed a hand over her thudding heart and nodded. “So I see.”

“Should we go downstairs?” Angie asked. 

“It’s a Saturday. I rather doubt any offices are open, especially in this weather.”

“I didn’t think about that. So it’s just us?”

“So it would seem.” Peggy walked back to the study as Angie trailed close behind. Locating the phone, she lifted the handset to her ear. “Fortunately, the phone line appears to be working.” She dialed a number on the rotary and waited for the call to go through. 

“Howard, it’s Peggy. The building has lost power.” She tilted her head. “Yes, of course. I checked the hallway.” She peered out the window and watched as fat snowflakes tumbled from the sky. The wind began to howl against the glass panes. 

“No, no, sending Jarvis won’t be necessary. I’d hate for him to get stuck in this. We have candles, food, and firewood. I’ve survived far worse on much less.” A pause. “Yes, of course, you were there. As if I could forget. But do call an electrician to come out once this passes. I realize we’re the only inhabitants in the building right now. Still, I’m certain your other tenants will want power come Monday.” She paused again. “I do appreciate your concern, Howard, but we will manage. Yes. You stay safe, too. Goodbye.”

Peggy turned to Angie. “Howard is going to call an electrician, but he doubts anyone will respond in this weather.”

“So we’re stuck like this for a while, huh?” Angie sighed. 

“So it would seem,” Peggy replied. “Let’s gather some more torches and candles. Then, we can move into the study and light the fireplace.”

Angie snickered. “You grab the torches, Peg. I’ll get the flashlights.”

Peggy rolled her eyes as she left the room. 

[someone-ds]

It was just an innocent evening.

A lost invite.

A polite greeting.

A once over that gave me chills.

A confidence I admired.

But then he opened his mouth, and all the right things came out of it.

And then I stared for a second too long, and maybe I was too drunk to care about what was being whispered around us.

There was a hunger painted in green and black.

And I should have left it at the small peck.

It should have been enough. Just a taste.

But self-control has never been my virtue.

He wants me. And I want to be wanted.

He’s in the palm of my hand.

I get up.

He follows suit.

No words needed.

Hungry kiss.

You’re pretty - I hear myself saying.

Stunned.

Another hungry kiss.

I touch my lips. My hands shake. A noise from the side we separate.

We agree to never talk again.

Sunday.

It’s late. I’m alone. I’ve been thinking about him for the last three days.

An innocent text. It’s late and windy.

You’re not a serial killer, are you? -

he laughs.

What makes it serial? —

like three I think-

Oh ok! No not yet. —

I giggle.

His hands are warm. His coat is adorable. The moon is full. The wind is strong.

We kiss. Feverishly and messy and hot.

I’m stone cold sober. A choice. A bad choice but a choice, nonetheless.

I almost miss the last bus.

He waits until it drives off to go on his way. Makes my heart tingle.

Monday night.

A deserted metro station. Three bottles of beer. Another act of chivalry I won’t forget soon.

A hug that meant the world to him.

20 bucks in my pocket when I get home.

Friday.

Drunk and high. I used to turn my nose at that.

but now I’m just a hypocritical liar.

A movie no one quite understands. A hand down my pants. A hot kiss in the kitchen. The almost bathroom meet up.

A shared taxi home.

Saturday morning.

A retrieved wallet and a paid for coffee.

A weekend getaway. The lies keep growing.

A train ride filled with what ifs and excitements for the day.

A small stop on my queen size bed. A hickey. A good cry.

A meal. The lake. The boat. The planes. The plans. The terrace. The beer. The walk to the bench.

I’ve never met someone like you —

A beat or two

You will rise to the occasion -

A promise

A walk home

The wind in my arms

Sunday.

Another million lies.

His bed. His room. His smell.

Homework and music.

A tense conversation. Another good cry.

A breakup of something that never was.

Wednesday.

We can’t stay away.

His favourite bar. The Waiter that knows our names now. Probably thinks we’re together.

Doesn’t know about the lies.

The red death machine I may never actually get to ride.

Drinks and cigarettes.

Worried over the shoulder looks; laughter and freedom in the same breath.

Thursday.

I get off late from work. He waits outside. In his nicest clothes.

Others join us to our demise.

His first introduction to the work after work drinks place.

A stolen lighter and a dropped beer.

Another lie.

And you were here waiting for her? -

I was listening to a girl talk about her plants while out of the corner of my eyes I see his widen.

My tongue finds the roof of my mouth.

No, no I was just in the area! ———

His bar again. David the waiter knows us. Greets us like old friends. The other guests look over, some with wonder others jealous.

I shake his hand.

Good to see you again-

Drinks. He has one too many. Spills it over the table and me. Talks too loudly. Gets up and hugs me out of my chair.

I feel embarrassed.

We get up to leave.

We fight.

I get into the taxi without saying goodbye.

My lighter and credit card in his pocket.

No hug?—

I tell the driver to move.

We almost hit him with the car on his bike.

I’m home and I can’t sleep. I call him to sort things out.

We talk a lot.

It’s three am when I see him fighting his sleep and me my meds.

Good night.

Friday.

We go to my favourite place for once.

I pay for our meal and his drinks. I feel bad about how much money he’s spent on me already.

He looks at me with huge eyes.

No one has ever paid for anything for me before! let alone a girl -

I sometimes forget he’s a fucking crown prince at home.

If I had known that was all it would take to charm you, I would have paid for stuff way sooner- I say half-jokingly

We take the long way home. Both drunk and high.

And hungry.

His belt comes off.

I must restrain myself.

I pay for his taxi home.

He doesn’t remember half the night.

Sunday

We get one drink after work. He’s anxious. Home and business plagued him the entire day.

An important meeting. He can’t tell me about.

He leaves at ten.

I go home alone.

Monday.

I wait for him all day. Hunger written across my face.

I run to meet him ahead of everyone else. He looks gorgeous. And we kiss. Hungry and desperate. But good. Oh god was it good.

Wow you’re drunk! - he grabs my waist to hold me still for a second, look into my eyes.

I am! You missed happy hour I ordered two big cocktails - I say with a big grin.

We walk to the others.

And we kiss and touch and can’t keep our hands to ourselves.

The wind flows through my hair and cleans my soul a bit while I stand on the bridge. The free-flowing water beneath my feet grounds me.

A welcoming haze and an unpleasant cough guide me to the floor of the bridge.

He lays down. I sit down beside him.

We talk.

Again, an uncomfortable conversation that can’t be avoided anymore.

The others come and I leave.

I think you like me more than I like you…—

Oh

I guess I should leave then-.

I leave and he doesn’t follow.

He lets me go in the middle of the night. By myself.

I cry on the way home.

We talk on the telephone for a while but nothing good comes of it.

Tuesday

I met up with the others, we are trying to find something to do.

His name gets said a thousand times.

We wait for him by the side door. He doesn’t know I’m there.

Standing in a white dress.

He sees me and freezes.

He barely looks at me all night.

He’s off to buy drugs. I wait with the others far from him.

He calls me, the call is cut short I hear him yell “Fuck”.

Stay where you are okay, I have to go get him! - I yell while already running in his direction.

White dress flowing in the wind, brown locks flying all over the place.

I don’t think I’ve ever run this fast in my life; lawyers and excuses are running through my mind.

I yell his name. it rolls off my tongue too easily.

I see him. Red death machine and all.

Are you okay? - I yell over to him

Fuck, yeah, I am fine the police stopped me! ---

I fucking knew it; I think to myself.

Because of your bike, right? I touch his arm, franticly looking over him to see any signs of hurt.

Yeah…

We join the others.

DUDE what happened? Ana just started booking it after you hung up!!

A secret exchange of warm and grateful looks.

We smoke in the park.

We don’t see each other for days. Barely talk.

Tuesday.

I fucking won. I can hardly believe it.

I get flooded with congratulations all day. I get drinks and prizes. Ruhm und Ehre.

It tastes great.

Congratulations on your winnings and a red heart… Was all it took to make me crumble and call.

We meet up. It’s late again. He looks taller, a 5 o’clock shadow coming in nicely.

A hug I longed for. We touch like nothing ever happened. It’s just so easy to pretend we aren’t what we are.

Rot12 welcomes us again. We drink, step outside occasionally, to kiss and laugh. To dance and sing.

I got you riiiiight here!--- he is pointing to the palm of his hand. If he is making a reference to the first night, we met is unclear to me. In the drunken state he is in I highly doubt that.

I only nod. He is right.

How the tables have turned- leaves my mouth before being kissed again.

We get another round of drinks.

He is way too drunk, dancing outside while smoking his blue camels. I can’t hesitate any longer, practically sprinting out the bar to join him.

He puts one of his headphones in my ear and starts singing out loud to the song that’s now blasting in my ear as well.

It’s a horrible song that I would never dare listen to. But he is singing it to me. So, I listen.

The lyrics are bad but bring the message across just as well.

It's 5 AM and I'm drunk right now

Tell me, can we still fuck?

Tellin' you just how I feel right now

You say it's just the drugs, and I know

I lied too, way before, before

Before I had you right inside my arms

It’s ridiculous. He is ridiculous. He is jumping around, yelling and rapping this song at me. But damn it I am a bit smitten.

He buys me a rose.

I mean you’ve won right?---

I hate him.

He gets more drunk.

He starts behaving like a dickhead. I yell at him to stop.

I’ve had enough. I try to leave, tell them all to have fun without me.

He runs after me. Apologises. But it’s too late.

He might be rich and full of ambitions and dreams. But class? Class, he has none.

I start crying.

If you cared a little about me, you’d know how important it is to me to care. I care! I know you don’t, but I do! And I am kind! And maybe you’re too privileged to see it but I fucking care. And if you liked me even a tiny bit you would too!

I missed you! That’s why I am here. It’s two am!! Look where we are!

I shout. Tears running down my face.

I missed you too! He speaks. But I am almost sure he doesn’t mean it.

Do you mean it? Or are you just saying it back? I say.

He pauses.

Fuck! Look at what I am doing! I cheated on my fiancé for NOTHING! I yell in his face.

Wow. --- he takes a step back. Face turned with pain.

I take a breath. When I am hurt my words shoot to kill.

He takes my hands in his. I know where this is going.

It’s over. ---

Give me my phone back! -

No, I promised I’ll get you home…---

It’s over, right? My head is turned at an angle, tears running down my face, mascara painting my cheeks black.

He nods.

Then give me my fucking phone!

He hands it over.

I never want to speak to him again.

I’m at work.

My phone lights up.

Missed call. (I blocked him everywhere; glad he’s found a way)

Oh... maybe he wants to apologise. I call back. I can’t let him know how excited I am.

Hi, how-

Is it important I am at work? - I cut him off.

Yes, it’s important, do you have my keys?---

OH shit

He comes to work. I meet him at the door; drop the keys in his hand and turn around. I don’t give him a chance to speak.

The day finally ends after a cruel 12-hour shift, and I climb into bed but not before thinking of how much of an asshole I can be to people I love.

-

I’m speaking to my manager; walking down the restaurant

I can feel eyes on me- I turn my head and find his entire family sitting in my fucking restaurant.

His eyes widen. His mother has a knowing grin on her lips.

I roll my eyes still annoyed and upset. I grab Manuel’s arm and make a run for the wardrobe with all the jackets and expensive scarfs of our guests. No doubt that one of these belong to them.

Fuck me.

Days pass.

I’m drunk and have been for hours. The girl that truly knows me, who’s seen me with all my faces and masks is sitting across from me.

All words my mouth can produce amount to this; I want to see him again.

So I call him. Drunk. But with nothing but truth hanging from my lips.

We make up. Again.

It’s the usual. We’re all drunk and high spread across Freyja’s room.

We share some glances, but nothing comes of it.

His head hurts. I am worried sick. I always am. Not matter what I’ll never be able to stop caring about people who once meant something to me.

Almost two months pass

My hair has grown, a new tattoo graces my skin. The bags under my eyes have grown and the urge to run away has subsided if only a little bit.

You have a tattoo?

He grabs my arm. Thumb pressing harder than it should on my freshly inked skin.

Yes..? I snarl a bit childishly back to him

And also, aua! I rip my arm out of his touch. He looks apologetic, like a kicked puppy; I feel bad

Days have passed since then and sometimes I catch a glimpse of him around the house and have a quiet laugh to myself about how once we couldn’t stay away and how now we barely know what the other is going through.

I overhear him speaking to Adam.

-…. The funeral….

I hear as I pass.

I turn my head and catch his eyes. I try to make him understand that I didn’t mean to overhear.

He looks like hell.

It’s hard not to reach for his hand when he runs by the restaurant. Tell him to slow down and tell me what’s happening. Try to lighten the load. Carry his world with him.

But I can’t.

It’s not my place and it’s not my right. Not anymore.

So I pray again. The first time in years. Quietly and rushed. On the metro, alone to myself. I shoot the big guy upstairs a glance.

Take care of him.

I plead.

Time moves through me. My body only protests quietly, knowing that I will push through any pain to get moving.

I don’t know how it happens but all of us are going out tonight.

Some DJ he knows is throwing a party, I don’t really care. Any excuse to get drunk and high will do.

I’ve only just gotten back from my vacation. If you could even call it that.

My mother is recovering well.

My head hasn’t been the same since they called to tell me she’s in the hospital. The surgeries and the endless pain.

I am drained. Spent too much money to try to fix things. Make up for the time I didn’t spend with her.

But no money in the world can turn back time.

So now I want to get drunk.

We are at the party. Him and I pay for everyone’s drinks… like always.

He barely looks at me and I feel silly. I just needed someone who could understand the stress about having your family rest upon your tired shoulders. I wanted to be understood.

But that’s selfish.

He looks great. And I wish I could tell him. Everyone leaves. I stay back hoping he’d talk to me. Or even fucking look at me.

It doesn’t matter. He’s over it. And all I really needed was a friend who could understand. But he is hurt and over it.

And now we’ll work some confusing days together. Where I want nothing more than to be his friend again. And he’ll rightfully push me away.

He was in Prague. Brought us back some cards and keychains. I didn’t think he would.

It makes me smile all the way home.

To really understand what happened between us I have to be the most honest and vulnerable I’ve been with myself in a long time.

Whatever this was meant a lot to me. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to him. But that does not matter because it meant everything to me.

I radiated youth and a will to live by his side. I grinned so wide my mouth hurt. I felt free. Carefree. And fucking alive.

I know I will be haunted by his lips and the way his cigarettes used to find my mouth after every drunken night

How his hands on my waist felt right and the smell of his cologne mixed with beer and nicotine will always find home within me.

I’m not sure why I did what I did. I will never know. Somehow some of my favourite spots in my hometown will now also have a DYL stain on them.

And I will never be able to explain why.

All I know is that I knew him from somewhere. Somewhere and long ago.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time.

If I had to- explain it, I mean

I’d say he was a fucking fresh breath of air. A gust of wind.

Freedom.

That is what he will always be to me. And that will always be my biggest regret.

Because in the end he is just a boy. And I will just be a girl in his story as well

Even though we shared so much, and I could paint his pains with my fingertips and he could reach within my chest to feel mine. It will never be enough.

Looking at the stars on that bench talking about the inevitable hardships we will have to face will mean nothing to him. But everything to me.

Because people like him are like

Planets with their own gravitational pull.

They will always have someone around them. Thousands and thousands of moons floating by them. Steady and near him.

So one tiny star in such a big sky will never matter to someone who owns the whole universe.

 The end is in sight. There is an uncomfortable air around us.

We are planning what to do as a good bye party.

I might not even be able to join.

I will have to choose, figure out what I want more.

Freedom or security.

A final breath of fresh air or lay in waiting.

Frozen.

He is getting more annoying and reckless as the days go on.

Sometimes this hard shell he insists on putting on now, slips. And I am reminded of the lovely guy I met.

Charming and polite.

There’s a game they want to watch on Wednesday. I’ve tried everything to get there on time but won’t be able to.

Even if I could- I’m not sure I’ll go

I want to. But the chance of being ignored all night and making a fool of myself by begging for his attention is too great to also pay for my actions when I inevitably arrive back home to my reality.

I did go to the Game.

We lost.

The energy was as predicted stale and uncomfortable.

 like bread that sat too long on the kitchen counter. A faint promise to return to it later and finish it long forgotten.

It doesn’t matter. He is leaving. I am staying.

We throw the party. Spent too much money on him again.

Fabricating stories days before, getting the others to lie.

It’s ugly and gross. But I need to see him before he leaves. Before I leave

/

I come back from Paris. A shot glass with the Eiffel Tower on it my hand for him.

But he doesn’t respond. Avoids me.

So he leaves. And I stay behind. Glass in hand, looking up at the sky each night.

The Little Dipper shines particularly bright tonight.

A deep understanding of the consequences settled finally in my chest. Like dust.

He’ll be back for a few days.

In a few weeks from now.

We will see each other and try our hardest to be normal. At least I do.

We are soaked to the bone at the after work hang place.

We say our usual lines.

He says something gross-

I tell him to stop-

He does it again. On purpose-

I roll my eyes.

He tells me he’s stopped smoking

I cry about the hell that awaits me when all of us have to leave tonight.

It’s ugly. But that’s just how it is now.

He leaves, for good now.

I congratulate him on his birthday. I almost forgot.

Weeks pass.

He doesn’t wish me a happy birthday.

End of September always has such a special smell. New beginnings. The end of the summer. A new number to remember me by.

Something happens. Again, I don’t know how exactly but he’s screaming my name through a phone screen.

Tell me! -

Why would it concern you? -

A look on his face I can’t quite figure out.

Tell me how is it going with him!-

Will there ever be a future for us? -

Our friends are watching this exchange not daring to breathe as to not interrupt.

No!-

A Quick Look of panic on his face. I only grin and start walking out of frame.

Then it is no matter to you!

No wait! Ana! Wait, YES YES!!-

I exchange looks with Freyja, making sure I’m not hallucinating.

I turn around, pop my head back into frame.

Well, it’s going well. We are going to Brazil very soon! -

….

The day that I’ve been dreading is finally here.

10 months of indecision plagued me.

But I am flying. But not before I tell everything to the new hire. I can’t keep it in any longer. Not after that phone call.

I talk and talk and talk. About him about us about all and everything.

When I am done, he tells me how my eyes have changed.  A light in them that wasn’t there before.

I stare blankly at the dirt spot on my leather shoes.

Time has no meaning.

Freyja and I dissect the last 7 months. Talking openly and way too loudly. We sit on the bench in front of the Bristol.

We pass his bar. We walk the streets we all spent hours on.

See familiar faces. Laugh at the universes silliness as even the fox makes his presence known.

We watch night turn into day.

Talk only about love and what I ought to do.

But it is no matter now.

He drunkenly confesses he has someone.

My heart sinks.

So, I make up my mind. I think.

Who do I think I am? Of course he can have someone else. I do.

I fly.

I sent a picture to the group chat.

A new ring.

I get congratulated by almost everyone.

/

I’m drunk. I’m calling the group chat.

He picks up.

I can’t let him know how nice it is to see his face and hear his voice. Know he’s ok.

He congratulates me on my engagement.

He puts an honestly after. I stare at the text.

A simple thank you is all I can muster up.

Time again seems to just run away, escaping my grasp.

Again, days have passed. Weeks even.

Normal life will resume now.

[conflictandscotchblog]

Like Goodfellas, But With a Cat (Goodfelines?*)

September 16th

It was a dark and stormy night.

Actually, it was a beautiful sunny Monday afternoon when my brother, my sister, and myself dug a grave.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Twice a month my sister (Diane) and myself volunteer at a thrift shop that raises money for a special needs school her son, Sam, once attended. My sister has done this for years, I started after I retired.

The second Monday of September, at the shop, she told me that her cat, Ralphie, had died. She said a few nights ago, she heard this guttural noise through the house, but couldn’t find the source.

Ralphie was no where to be found.

After a time, she did find him curled on the bathroom floor. She sat with him, petting him for a while, and eventually he died later that night right there on that floor.

Unfortunately, my sister learned a lesson the hard way when, the next morning, she brought a towel down to wrap up Ralphie.

With towel in hand, she expected to pick up the weight of the cat she had for years. Instead, she found a much heavier, and stiff, animal with legs pointed out in front and behind, as if Ralphie wanted to just up and fly away.

In cats, rigor mortise sets in anywhere between ten minutes and three hours after death.

Also at the Thrift Shop, she told me she had a hard time digging a hole on her property to lay Ralphie to rest. Too many rocks, too many roots to cut through, she said.

No problem.

Called our brother (Joe), the three of us met for lunch, then headed to my sister’s house, and Ralphie’s final resting place.

At her house, my sister retrieved two shovels and a garden tool I was unfamiliar with from her shed, and handed them to us.

We walked the grounds a bit until we found a nice spot for Ralphie by some rocks, and plenty of sun.

We started to dig, and quickly learned my sister was right.

A few shovel strokes down, we hit rock.

Fortunately, it was a collection of rocks, and not a boulder. My brother and I continued, digging out one rock at a time, and tossed them aside.

It was slow and steady.

How slow?

My brother and I are old, and I can’t remember the last time I mowed a lawn let alone dig a hole for a dead family member (although, there was that one time...but I digress).

As we continued to dig Ralphie’s new home, flashes of Goodfellas crossed my mind. Specifically, the scene when Henry, Tommy, and Jimmy had to go back and dig up Billy Batts.

As far as I knew, Ralphie did not have a criminal past. Although, he never allowed himself to be photographed in family pictures, and always skulked around the upstairs balcony, just out of sight.

Finally, passed all the rocks, and solid ground, we dug deep and wide enough to bring out Ralphie.

My sister left, then reappeared with Ralphie, wrapped in a towel, inside a plastic bag (an enigma wrapped in a riddle).

As my brother unwrapped the plastic, I turned my back, did not want to see the stiff dead flying cat. My brother kept Ralphie in the towel to ensure that other animals did not dig him up (plus, who the hell was ever going to use that towel again?)

Placed Ralphie in the ground, returned the displaced dirt, rocks, and grass, and said our goodbyes.

To further ensure that Ralphie would not be disturbed, my sister found a piece of slate that my brother and I carried and placed over the grave.

As we walked to our cars to leave, a funny thought struck me.

You see, this beautiful sunny Monday afternoon was also our mother’s birthday.

Couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of our Mom looking down from heaven and saying, “It’s so nice the kids got together on my birthday,” then added, “even if it was to bury a dead cat.”

I also picture my mom now has a new pet cat in heaven.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

After I left, my sister inscribed the slate and sent me this picture.

Rest in Peace, Ralphie

* The title ‘Goodfelines’ was provided by my brother who is not known for his Algonquin Round Table sense of humor, but in this case, he was dead on (see what I did there?)

[ravensilversea]

To Listen is to Love

Author: Raven Silversea

Rating: G

Pairing: Viper/Verde

Prompt: Storm Day: Mistaken Identity AU | Courting

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, they're graduate students specifically, Established Relationship, Nonbinary Mammon | Viper, aquarium date

It took ages to get everything together. Talking with their boss to get the day off, talking to Verde’s professors to make sure he has the day off from any labs or under-graduate lecture halls, double and triple checking Verde’s class schedule to make sure it didn’t magically change to having a class that day despite it being the same Monday/Tuesday/Thursday schedule it’s been all semester. The amount of side-eye Viper’s gotten from their boyfriend the past week or so could fill a pool.

Everything’s set though. Viper even has the tickets printed out, placed in a green folder, and in their messenger bag hanging by the door already. All that’s left is… waking Verde up.

Verde, once again, was sleeping slumped over on his desk. His laptop open and long since gone to sleep. Empty coffee cups are tipped over onto pages of calculations. His glasses askew, and his face is stuck on the pages of his physics textbook. 

Viper picks up the pencil on the floor and places it back in the overflowing pen cup. Tapping the center of Verde’s shoulders, they lean down and whisper, “Myu, I’m going to eat your cake and leave nothing for you.”

Viper backs up with a laugh as Verde jolts up into a stretch. “You won’t,” he yawns. “It would be a waste of both time and money to get or bake a cake specifically for my birthday and then eat it by yourself.”

“Myu,” Viper tips their head, considering. “Would not. I’d still get cake out of it.”

Verde snorts but gets up, running a hand down his wrinkled button-up. “Anything I must know?” he asks. 

“Dress comfortable,” Viper shrugs. “Myu, Indoor walking shoes. Doesn’t really matter.” They gesture at their jeans and over-sized hoodie. 

“Your usual and my usual are not the same, but I understand your point.” Verde squeezes Viper’s wrist as he passes by. 

Ao3

When Verde comes out of the shower twenty minutes later wearing his usual khaki pants and button-down shirt, Viper’s waiting with a breakfast burrito and a travel cup of coffee for him. Verde takes both with a smile, his sleeve riding up enough for Viper to glimpse the rainbow watch band they had made for him.

They busy themselves with checking the location of everything in their messenger bag, but Verde’s quiet chuckle says that he saw their blush anyway.

Verde, tactfully, doesn't flip through Viper's messenger bag which spends the drive sitting at his feet. They do catch his fingers drumming on his thigh out of the corner of their eye. "Thank you," they say.

Verde hums. "Illogical. You've clearly gone to lengths to make this excursion a surprise."

Viper huffs. They take the next left and spares a glance at the battered GPS. "Myu. Like that's stopped you before." They're not actually bothered by Verde's habit of digging through their bag, just like Verde simply rolls his eyes when they uncover his class schedule before he prints it out. None of this negates the fact that they appreciate Verde's restraint despite the fact they didn't explicitly request it, which is the agreed upon boundary for both of them.

"We're almost there."

Verde makes an interested noise and straightens in his seat, flipping his phone face down on his khakis and looking out the window. Viper smirks and shakes their head. He's undoubtedly trying to figure out where they are and guess their destination.

When they pull into the aquarium’s parking lot, Verde looks almost ready to bolt out of the car before the engine’s even off. Viper reaches over the center console and retrieves their bag before getting out themselves. “Myu. Shall we go in?” they ask, tugging their hood down.

Verde snorts and loosely grabs Viper’s wrist, tugging them towards the entrance.

Sometimes Viper wonders why Verde decided to double major in chemistry and physics instead of going for marine biology when he clearly loves marine animals so much. They spend much of the day at the aquarium playing eager listener as Verde rambles on about clown fish and the theories about why they can survive sea anemone poison.

“The mucus coating of clown fish may be sugar-based and so the anemones simply fail to recognize them as food. However, it could also be a coevolution of the two that simply allowed the clown fish to develop an immunity.” Verde pushes his glasses higher up his nose before his hands starting to move in box-like shapes again. “It is all really quite fascinating.”

It’s only long-time exposure and frequent Google searches that allows Viper to keep up with the semi-scientific lectures, but they find it all worth it to watch Verde’s green eyes light up and a small, soft smile to appear on his face. The aquarium staff’s eyes light up just as much whenever Verde asks about specific animals and projects they’re working on. Verde spends almost an hour leaning on a glass information counter near the coral tanks just talking with a staffer about the aquarium’s efforts in revitalizing coral reefs.

“Hippocampus hippocampus, or the short-snouted seahorse,” Verde says, pointing at a tank filled with brown seahorses clinging to their tall, leafy seaweed. “It is found primarily in the Mediterranean and North Atlantic, specifically around Italy and the Canary Islands.” Viper leans into his side, and Verde pauses. He wraps an arm around them and continues with his lecture, hands waving all the way. Huffing a quiet laugh, Viper watches two seahorses cash each other through the seaweed forest. 

It’s when Verde quiets in the tunneled pathway with sharks and fish swimming all around them- apparently nurse sharks can be found in reefs and rocky areas which lead to further discussion about the importance of coral reefs- that Viper wraps a gentle hand around his wrist. Verde immediately looks away from the shark swimming above them and to Viper. “Myu, was this good?” they ask.

Verde smiles. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a small sheet of multicolored star stickers. He peels a gold one off the sheet and places it on Viper’s cheek without ever breaking their grip. “It was perfect,” he says and kisses the star. Viper flushes, pulling their hood down with their free hand. 

[jasonbehrs]

🎭 wear your heart where i can see 🎭

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

a dbsk fanfic about falling in love on a trial run

“But you’re a dude!”

“That will continue to be true for every lesson in the curriculum, so I suggest you get over that quickly.”

ship: yunjae chapters: 3/10 word count: 3.5k+ rating: T+ for cursing

read it on ffnet, aff, ao3, or below!

~~~

On Tuesday morning, Yunho walks into school with a lot less trepidation than he had the day before, but he still keeps his head on a swivel. Just because he didn't happen to see the Jaejoong guy yesterday doesn't mean it might not still happen today, and he needs to remain vigilant if he wants to avoid that weirdness at all costs.

Last week had been normal enough. He had a quiz on Monday, Sooyoung broke up with him on Tuesday, morning hapkido practise on Wednesday, Yuri asked him out on Thursday, and they had a date on Friday. Pretty typical week for him, girlfriend parts included. (Through no effort nor encouragement on his part, he often gets asked out by a new girl within a few days of the previous girlfriend breaking up with him. He doesn't question it.)

The weirdness commenced immediately afterwards. He longs for the return to his previous cycle of studying, hapkido practise, and making time to hang out with his friends; but a strange classmate he had never met before just had to insult him and insist on a very suspicious, slipshod plan to address perceived personality flaws he isn't convinced he has.

An optimistic part of his heart believes if he can just make it through the week with nothing particularly noteworthy happening to him, that comforting routine will resume.

This illusion is shattered immediately after school when he finds Jaejoong inspecting his motorbike. He tampers down his dread and tries to remain optimistic about the impending interaction. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, what's the engine capacity on this thing?" the other student asks as he squeezes the handlebars and pokes around until he finds the horn. Yunho would rather he didn't, but he is willing to let Jaejoong play pretend with his ride if it means the conversation can remain normal.

"50 cc," he answers haltingly. "I can't drive anything more powerful than that until I can get my car license; that was the deal I made with my mom in order to get the bike." Jaejoong nods but doesn't say anything to that, instead flipping up the kickstand and settling into the seat. He makes grabby hands for the helmet in Yunho's grip, and Yunho watches him clumsily fit it over his head.

He faces Yunho and lifts up the shield. "Is that a lot?"

He knows staring is rude, but Yunho can't help it. "Why would you ask if you wouldn't know what the answer meant?"

Jaejoong shrugs. "I heard my dad say it once, and it seemed like the thing to say. I totally sounded like I knew what I was talking about, though, right?" He grins, waiting for Yunho to be impressed.

Yunho keeps him waiting. He is currently preoccupied by striving to make peace with the fact that if the other student was not here to talk about automobiles, he must be here for the other reason. The weird reason. He takes a deep breath. "Can I help you with something?" he tries again.

Jaejoong hops off the moped without properly setting down the kickstand, and Yunho rushes to right his tilting vehicle. "I'm here to help you, remember? I'm going to teach you how to date! We're starting today."

"I didn't agree to this." He wants to sound authoritatively disencouraging, but the slight whine under his words probably dampens the effect.

"Doesn't matter; I'm not doing this for you." Jaejoong gestures with his hand for Yunho to follow him, and Yunho tells himself he only does so so that he can retrieve the helmet still snug on the other's head.

Speaking of heads, something clicks in his. "Is this for Sooyoung? Are you trying to get me back together with her?"

"Oh my god, no," Jaejoong refutes immediately. "Even after I'm through with you, you will not be good enough for her."

Yunho elects not to debate that. "So why are you putting us through this?"

Jaejoong leads them around the perimeter of the school's campus until they reach the narrow alley between the auditorium and the gymnasium. There are cigarette butts and fast food wrappers littered on the ground, but the sun is still providing enough illumination so that the space doesn't feel cramped and grimey.

He flexes his torso to avoid collision when the other makes a sharp stop at the mouth of the alley and faces him. "I'm getting the sense you don't want to do this," Jaejoong starts rhetorically, "so why don't you just tell me 'no'?"

Yunho wants to stare into a fourth wall camera, mockumentary-television-style. "I did."

"Actually, you didn't," Jaejoong retorts pedagogically. He takes off Yunho's helmet and kneels to set it on a relatively unadorned square meter of concrete, continuing, "On Friday you denied needing any help at all; and just earlier you simply said you did not agree to my tutoring; yet here you are, standing in the Backstreet with me without even questioning where I was taking you."

Yunho stumbles a step back when Jaejoong springs up to look at him with peering eyes. "So I'll ask again: why don't you just tell me 'No, I'm not going to do this'?"

He opens his mouth, willing his larynx to utter that first syllable, to tell Jaejoong off for all the ways he's insulted him in their brief hours of acquaintance, to say anything—but nothing comes out.

Jaejoong pulls back with a decisive nod. "That's what I thought. Alright, first test! Ask me out on a date."

Now would be a great time to learn how to say 'no'. An incredulous "But you're a dude!" comes out instead.

He doesn't like the resulting smirk on Jaejoong's face. It makes him feel like he telegraphed his attack to his opponent, and all he can do is wait for the winning blow to strike him. "That will continue to be true for every lesson in the curriculum, so I suggest you get over that quickly."

Getting things over with quickly sounds like a great idea, actually. "Okay, fine. Would you like to go get Lotteria with me this afternoon?"

Jaejoong rolls his eyes so hard his neck and head go with it, and Yunho begins to understand there will be no speedrunning this game. "What was wrong with that?" he demands.

"I'm not even going to comment on your tone of voice because I know some girls like the whole tsundere shtick, but what the hell is up with you and Lotteria? Fast food chains are not first date material! I get that we're in high school; but even if that's all you can afford, you should at least take it to go and continue the date somewhere more romantic. There's a park literally five blocks from there."

Yunho's defensiveness lowers to make room for realization. He honestly never thought of that before.

Jaejoong facepalms. "I see I have my work cut out for me."

Yunho does not let himself be bothered by the statement. With his new understanding, he is eager to try again, but Jaejoong holds out a hand to stop him before he could open his mouth. "The moment passed. Try again when I'm not expecting it."

"You were expecting it earlier though…?" Yunho tries to point out, but Jaejoong shakes his head. "Yeah, but at least I didn't know what you were going to say or suggest we do. If you ask me again right now, where's the shock value? The anticipation?" He punctuates his argument with a satisfied smile that borders on condescending, and that's Yunho's last straw.

When Jaejoong moves to step around him and leave, Yunho sticks his arm out to his side to block him. The alley is narrow enough that his palm is almost flush with the brick of the building, and it only takes one step to crowd into Jaejoong's space and force him against the wall.

Their bodies aren't quite touching, but Jaejoong's surprised exhale still easily reaches the skin between Yunho's nose and lips. His perpetually teasing eyes seem deeper now, or maybe they just look that way because of how intently Yunho is looking into them.

"How's this for shock value?" His words are only loud enough for Jaejoong to hear him clearly, and his voice naturally goes gravelly from the low volume.

Jaejoong's eyes narrow back into amused slits. "You have my attention."

"Good. We should go on a date this afternoon. Grab some food, go somewhere. I know a place."

Jaejoong quirks an eyebrow, then his gaze breaks from Yunho's to study his arm, then his face, then the position they're in. If this is an intimidation tactic, Yunho refuses to budge.

Finally, he frowns in impressed approval. "This will do, Jung, but it won't work for a second date." He swipes Yunho's arm away with no further warning and smoothly ducks out of the new opening. It is only the reflexes honed from years of hapkido that save Yunho from losing his balance against the wall.

He turns to find Jaejoong picking up Yunho's helmet and propping it between his arm and his hip. "I hope you have some extra headgear because I plan on travelling by motorbike tonight."

Later, when he'll think of Jaejoong, the sight of him framed by the alley entrance, backlit by the high sun and taunting, will be the image his brain supplies for reference.

~~~

"... So I have him pinned; I'm centering myself, preparing to throw him; and when I crouch for extra leverage, crzrhszhrshzhrshhh!" Yunho mimes a ripping motion in the air. "My pants are literally split into two halves, right down the center seam."

He has to raise his voice to be heard over Jaejoong's boisterous laughter. "I still won the match, though."

"Oh my god, of course you did! You can't lose after showing the entire gymnasium your underwear!"

"It helps that red's my lucky colour."

"Got it. You wear red when you wanna get lucky." Jaejoong keeps his voice deadpan, but his eyebrows still waggle, and it's Yunho's turn to laugh.

The park that Jaejoong mentioned is one Yunho has been to plenty of times before, but he can't recall the most recent time he went. It's an awkwardly long and narrow stretch, having originally been zoned as a residential block before someone along the way decided that it should be greenspace in order to attract families to the neighbourhood. Most of the block is taken up by grass and trees except for a children's playground on one end and a paved, oblong walking path that more or less follows the perimeter of the block.

After picking up their food, they walked to the park and wordlessly agreed to take a few laps on the path. He finished and trashed his meal a while back, but Jaejoong still has his drink in one hand and a pouch of fries in the other.

"I gotta say," Jaejoong says after a while of companionable walking, "I was dreading this first date, but you're doing great so far."

"Thanks," Yunho says without gratitude.

"Seriously. Why weren't you this talkative last Friday?"

He frowns. He thought that had been one of his better first dates, the fact that Yuri didn't ask him out again notwithstanding. Unfortunately, however, he knows he has a habit of exactly what Jaejoong is describing, so he speaks generally.

"I don't know how to talk to girls, man. I get that the point of the first date is to discover whether we have anything in common, but all I do is hapkido and study. Girls get tired of those topics really quickly, and I never have anything else to talk about. It's easier to just let them say whatever they want and then react accordingly."

Jaejoong stops himself from taking another sip of his drink to respond, and the ice in his cup clinks loudly as he uses that hand to gesticulate. "No, no, no. Here's the thing: the stuff you're trying to find in common are not necessarily hobbies, though that's great too. What you're actually looking for are matches in personality. You can discover a little bit of that through the things people do to occupy their time, sure, but you discover a lot more in the way people talk about those things. The topic doesn't matter as much as the presentation. Like, just now, you were telling that story about your hapkido tournament. It wasn't fun because it was a funny thing to happen to you but because you had fun telling it! Treat all your conversations like that, and you'll never have an awkward date again."

That's all well and good, but, "It's different with you! I'm not trying to date you."

Jaejoong purposefully steps in front of Yunho and halts their walk. "As of today, you are, though. That's why we're here." He shakes his ice cup in Yunho's face for emphasis. "We're on a date."

Yunho forgot, honestly. Sometime between parking the moped and arriving at the park, he stopped feeling observed, and it just felt fun.

"Do we have to go on dates? Can't you just tell me all the things you think I need to know? You did a great job earlier, explaining the personality and presentation stuff."

The other frowns but takes a moment to think. Yunho hopes this means that the next time he and Jaejoong hang out, it will be a normal meetup.

By the way Jaejoong snaps his fingers a few seconds later, Yunho knows his hopes are dashed. "You've taken chemistry already, right?"

Ah. He lolls his head backwards in resigned understanding. "Okay, fine. You learn the theory, you conduct an experiment to observe the concepts in practise, and the results underscore the lesson. Fine, I get it. We go on dates."

His head snaps upright when Jaejoong rams his elbow into Yunho's arm. "You weren't supposed to say all that smart stuff!" the other complains.

"What?!"

"You were supposed to be like, 'Uh, yeah, why?' and then I'd be like, 'Well, it doesn't count because you've never taken chemistry taught by me~' and it was gonna be charming enough to convince you, but now I can't because it sounds dumb compared to your really good point!"

Jaejoong elbows him again, and Yunho lets him because it is so powerless and ineffectual. "Hitting me is not very charming."

"Everything I do is charming!" Jaejoong refutes, but he stops immediately. When Yunho resumes their walk, he follows along without raising his hand again except to facilitate the stubborn slurping of his remaining drink.

When they round the bend that would take them back to the park entrance closest to Lotteria, Yunho opens, "So, got any more nuggets of wisdom for me before our date wraps up, Prince Charming?" The sun isn't obviously setting, but the world does seem cast in more orange than it did a few hours ago when they left the school.

Jaejoong narrows his eyes at him. "You're teasing me, but joke's on you because I like that nickname. And yes: the advice I gave you before only applies while you're doing the talking, but there's nothing a girl likes less than being talked at instead of talked to… You can't just let her talk either, though. Ask her questions; be curious about her. Bonus: it'll hide the fact you've run out of things to say, since you're worried about that."

Yunho considers this. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm being curious about you. If you're so charming and you've amassed all this great dating knowledge, why aren't you dating anyone?"

Jaejoong straightens up. "Who says I'm not?"

"I highly doubt she'd be okay with you going on dates with me instead of her if she were real."

Jaejoong deflates. "He probably wouldn't be, you're right," he says with a wry smile.

Oh. "Yeah, okay, I see how that could pose some challenges."

The other student waves his hands and loses a fry for his troubles. "It's not a challenge. I haven't been looking, and I'm not just saying that so that I don't look pathetic in front of the guy who's had more girlfriends than I have pimples."

Yunho does a quick scan. "Your skin is clear."

"Thank you." Jaejoong bounds for a garbage can up ahead, and Yunho follows at a slower pace. "I'm the understudy for the lead in the spring musical, and I'm trying to get the lead in both productions for my final year. It involves a lot of hard work and kissing ass. I'm also an alternate for the badminton club and trying to keep my GPA above a 2.5. A boyfriend would just cut into my time."

"And this tutoring thing you're trying to do for me wouldn't?"

"Don't worry about my schedule," Jaejoong counters snippily, "This is all about you. Speaking of…"

They exit out of the park, and Yunho raises an eyebrow when Jaejoong doesn't follow him back towards where they parked. "Mini lesson: You should always take your date home, but don't worry about today. I'm gonna take the bus," he says with a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a bus stop Yunho knows is stationed down the block. "I have to run an errand for my mom."

Yunho nods in understanding and feels distantly grateful for the abrupt end to their time together. Walking his Jaejoong to his front door on their first date is a little bit too much for him.

He figures this is goodbye, but Jaejoong keeps talking. "You haven't asked me for my cellphone number yet, by the way."

"I was supposed to?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm not just your dating tutor; I'm your pretend girlfriend! 'Observe the concepts in practise,' remember?"

This naturally begs the question, "Why aren't you my pretend boyfriend, then?"

"Is that what you want to be telling your hapkido friends when you explain to them why you can't hang out after school on date nights?" Jaejoong claps his hand to underscore his point. "'Concepts in practise,' hello!"

His brain unhelpfully reminds him that he didn't say 'no' to Jaejoong's question earlier in the Backstreet, and that is why he is having this inane conversation. Then he gets an idea. "Okay, well, if I'm practising…" He straightens, tries to affect a serious aura. By the other's raised eyebrows, he thinks it worked. "Jaejoong, I like you. Learning from you, that is. Can I be your practise boyfriend?"

Jaejoong doesn't say anything for a second, long enough for Yunho to actually feel really stupid about asking in the first place, but then he smiles. It's not tinged with ulterior motives or hinting at a teasing comment, but unrestrained and happy. It actually looks kind of good on him—until he forcibly suppresses it.

Yunho smirks. He hoped to fluster Jaejoong, but he still considers this a success. "This is the first time anyone's ever asked to be your boyfriend, isn't it?"

"No!" but it's rote and futile.

"I should find myself a more qualified dating tutor. Someone who's honest with me and has more experience."

"Good luck finding anyone with the patience." Jaejoong sneers and turns to walk to the bus stop, but Yunho rushes around to make Jaejoong face him. He smiles in conciliation. "If it makes you feel any better, it's also the first time I've asked to be someone's boyfriend."

Jaejoong purses his lips, but he doesn't avoid looking at him. Yunho grins. "Well, come on. Don't leave me hanging. What do you say?"

Like earlier, Jaejoong quirks an eyebrow before breaking his gaze from Yunho's to study him. Unlike earlier, Yunho doesn't feel like this is a test he can possibly fail.

"Yes," he finally says, and Yunho will question later why he is relieved by the syllable. "We're officially practise dating."

~~~

A/N (4.4.2023): I've introduced the ways Jaejoong and Yunho spend their free time, but I don't intend on exploring those much unless it directly concerns their emotional development. Just know that in the background, the spring musical and a hapkido tournament are imminent for the two. Thanks for reading this far!