#anyone else feeling crazy tonight!! i am so ill and it is 1 am!!!

[slowfridays]

im actually crying … holy shit. where the hell do i begin in describing how much i love this? 😮‍💨

i am SO so in love with how this was written, and no, i am not exaggerating. each description, each line exchanged did not fail to make my heart happy, namely:

(1) You decided you liked his laughter and the smile that came with it. goshdarn u are ABSOLUTELY RIGHT and this sentence feels like it was MADE for lee seokmin…literally try to imagine anyone else. it will inevitably be him. my god.

(2) the dynamic set between dk and the reader is SOOOO NEAT im not even joking like oh my god. their exchange about “YOLO” and trying it out (auditions) vs resting even for a while???? that was so crazy i swear…and then followed up with dk being so smug and happy about reader inadvertently calling him a friend!!! i could feel his happiness all throughout that scene despite the teasing and the flustered state of the reader, which spoke volumes of how well their dynamic was going to be like!

(3) Too busy saving the world? … ‘perhaps because he sounded almost genuinely proud of you every time he said it’. GOD. fiction is fiction, but goshdarn i want a man like this so so so bad… oh deekay i am forever going to be a spinster bc of u .

(4) seokmin’s right, reader is so cute. as someone with anxiety, i love how the hint of anxiety warning was played into the reader here, in that it was very subtle but all too relatable, whether or not that was the intention. i love the part where she spaced out bc of how she was slowly realizing her feelings and then suddenly being caught by seokmin then being told by shes cute after like. BRO. HOW DO U SURVIVE THAT. u dont

(5) FOREHEAD KISS FOREHEAD KISS FOREHEAD KISS FOREHEAD KISS FOREHEAD KISS!!!!!! the absolute pinnacle it all… changed lives and altered my brain chemistry forever. the initial hesitation between the two, until deekay steps into the fixed…line…set, and lets himself in and takes that risk and goes for it and reader lets him ohhhhhh im going insane. i love how they were initially hesitant until they werent. “i dont mind.” MY GOD

(6) love… is a bowl of fruit. 🍉 gah damn. seokmin noticing the slight change in reader’s mood and calming her down in the process before anything else got standard; and also, him noticing that bc hes just that observational about her, CHOOSES to be that observational FOR her… the way he drops everything to take care of her just feels so very lee seokmin to me, and my heart just lurches so much at this. THEN you even add that as she works he feeds her fruit. like what the FUCK. jail time. that was the last straw im absolutely insane by now. the tea making too??? wow. WOW. and… you know… all of this just to say: me when

(7) The Talk. 🗣️ i love how reader was the one who brought it up like omygod that was so so. heartwarming in the best way. i guess its bc i think that it showed multitudes on reader’s part, in that we know she has anxiety or at least shows traits of an anxious person, and i guess that just felt very human to me? but also: i love how seokmin responded. i love how respectful he was of her boundaries, of her choices, of what she wanted. it felt to me that his love was just that great, coupled with the fact of just how warm and lovely of a person he is. what a beautiful thing it must be then, to be loved by lee seokmin.

(8) ill be in the front row. ull get sick of me. i could never. AHUSHAHAUSHA . OK . ALRIGHT its ok im fine ahahaudhau god this is so ! i know cheesy couples say that all the time, but deekay is a corny man that has nothing but authentic cheesiness in every bone he has. just… honestly, one of the reasons this fic felt so vivid to me and why i couldnt stop punching my pillow and smiling tonight.

🤎 man, i could go on and on and on: but bottomline is that i really enjoyed reading rhis fic. happy tears were mentioned mostly at the end and that is what i was left with as i finished reading thisl i’m really glad i saved this and then read it just now. thank you for writing this; i treasure this one so much. :”) 🤎

Dreamers

Lee Seokmin (DK) x fem!reader

Genre: mostly fluff, with a hint of anxiety

Word Count: 10.9k

Wanings: food mentions. adult language. a few parts may come off as suggestive, but not really. y/n is an environmentalist but not vegan.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Sleepwalking is a nasty issue. You find yourself in the correct building but wrong apartment, sharing a room with a ridiculously cute boy who seems to find it amusing.

Note: This one goes out to all of my ambitious girlies! Keep working towards your dreams!

The moment you stepped onto the evening bus you regretted the decision. 

With a bright smile, Sunny greeted you, rushing to move her bags into her lap so you could take the seat next to her, all while never once taking her eyes off you. Her brows rose in a questioning manner. You cursed under your breath as your neighbour’s usual warm smile morphed into a look of disbelief when you sank into the seat next to her.

With a sigh, you raised a hand to silence her. “I know.”

But she didn’t take the hint. “When was the last time you slept? Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answer to?” you whined and hugged your bag close to your chest. “I’m sure you heard me showering at 3 am.”

“The bags under your eyes aren’t supposed to make it look like you have a black eye,” she told you as if she hadn’t heard you at all, still eyeing you in worry. “How much did you sleep? You look worse than Jeonghan when he thought I was mad at him.”

“Does it matter?” You huffed. “At least I’m getting some rest.” 

“I think it only counts as rest if you actually get 8 hours of sleep every once in a while,” she countered with a snicker, “which, by the looks of it,” she gave you a once-over, followed by a disappointed a sigh, “you haven’t had in years.”

“I sleep just fine. I’m healthy, I am productive,” you defended and tightened your hold on your bag. “Sleep is for the weak anyway.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how you’re friends with me but not Jihoon. Your mentality is almost identical.”

“Listen, somebody has to do the work. And unlike some, I’d actually like my work to amount to something bigger than an average paycheck that barely covers my bills. I have ambitions. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Honey, at this rate you’re not gonna live long enough to see your ambitions come to life,” she grumbled under her breath and linked your arms. “It’s okay to rest every once in a while. Take a week off from work and actually just do something fun for a change.”

You grimaced. “I’d rather not. Messes with my groove.”

Sunny had no words left to say. She stared at you with a wide mouth for a moment before sputtering, “How– How are we friends?”

“Fate brought us together so you could nag me at all possible hours,” you joked, looking out the window now to avoid missing your stop. “But seriously, I don’t need to rest. I love my job and my colleagues and I’m making a change.”

“You should at least go to sleep early tonight.”

“Can’t. I have a big report due next week and I don’t want to miss my deadlines.”

Her gaze hardened immediately as she cursed, “Why, you little–”

“Hey!”

“I’m just worried about you,” she mumbled through a pout just as your bus arrived at your shared destination. With a begrudging sigh, she unlinked your arms and gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you stood up and walked over to the door “Well, I guess it’s your life. But I swear–” she pointed at your face, eyes squinted in a glare; she interrupted herself mid-sentence, “no, I vow that if you collapse under the stress, I’ll personally go and hand in a letter of resignation in your name.”

You scoffed at her empty promises, smiled, and stepped off the bus. You had no doubt you would be just fine and she was overreacting over nothing. She couldn’t wrap her mind around your work ethic and goals – she was built of an entirely different wood.

Then again, you couldn’t deny you often felt a little jealous of her. The nagging feeling hit once again when you looked up to find Jeonghan standing at the gate of your building, his smile widening the closer Sunny and you got to him. You envied that she had found – through trials and tribulations, you’d admit – a perfect man to brighten her days while you had no time to even contemplate romance.

“How was your day, my beautiful lady?” Jeonghan greeted your neighbour with a sweet kiss on her forehead before taking her bag and leading her inside with a hand on her back. He didn’t forget to offer you a welcoming smile and a friendly “good evening” as well, both of which you returned.

“Are you going to the 5th floor tonight?” you asked them as the three of you trudged up the stairs and they made no effort to walk to her apartment. 

Sunny nodded. “It’s movie night and he has the bigger TV.”

Jeonghan let out a loud ‘ha!’ and grinned at her victoriously. “So you admit it. My TV’s better than yours!”

“That’s–” She sighed deeply. “That is not the point right now–”

“How is it not?”

Unable to continue watching their lovers’ quarrel, you hummed and waved them goodbye before promptly unlocking your apartment, walking in, and quickly locking it again as if their bickering or cheesy nicknames could otherwise follow after you. 

You had far more important things to do, after all. 

With a tired sigh, you warmed up some of last night’s leftovers and opened your laptop. The familiar Times New Roman font on your screen prompted a soft groan, but still you squared your shoulders and got to work. 

If you were quick, you’d get this done way before the deadline. Maybe you could even go to work in the morning with a nearly finished report! You smiled at the thought. 

But life doesn’t always go as expected. 

You thought you were old enough to know this fact already. After all, when had life ever followed your expectations? It seemed to enjoy throwing curve balls right at your head.

You woke up with a splitting headache at 7 am, an hour before your usual alarm. It was strange – you concluded so as you stared at the time on your phone through a squint. With a soft huff, you let the phone drop back onto the mattress and your head onto the pillows.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you then heard a voice.

Your eyes snapped open. There was someone in your room. 

The voice sounded apologetic as it continued in a whisper, “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make any noise. Sorry. Let me just get my shirt and–”

You sat up abruptly to stare at the intruder – a handsome familiar-looking man shuffled around the walk-in closet. Worst of all – he was shirtless. You dreaded to think of what had happened the night before.

“Who– Who are you?” you stuttered out, instinctively lifting the blanket higher against your torso despite the fact that you were fully clothed. “Why are you in my apart–” 

Then it hit you. The worst of the worst realities. 

“Holy shit, this isn’t my apartment!” you screamed and jumped out of bed to apologise profusely. “I’m so so sorry! I had no idea! I don’t how–”

“Hey, hey!” The man – now wearing a crispy white button-up shirt – walked out of the closet hurriedly, a worried smile on his face as he rushed to comfort you with a gentle hand on your back, leading you to sit back on the bed. “It’s okay.” He let out a laugh. “I was going to let you sleep for a while more. It’s okay.”

You had no clue how he could be so calm about this. What the hell happened last night?!

You stuttered. You sputtered. You gasped for air like a fish out of the water. You were on the verge of a panic attack at 7 am in the morning and he was smiling, all while patting and rubbing your back like it was the most natural thing. 

“Why am I here?” you eventually managed to breathe out. You hated to admit that his calm and friendly nature was helping you adjust to the situation.

He raised a brow, his soothing movements stopping. “I was hoping you could answer that.” 

When you made no move to do so and only offered him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “I woke up to someone trying to unlock my door at 2 am. Almost cried, actually, but then I heard a knock and Mingyu telling me to open the door, so I did and you…” He gestured widely to his room. “Well, you came in and went straight to bed as if it was your own home. I didn’t know what to do but Mingyu and I figured you needed to rest.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw. “You didn’t think to call the police?”

“Well,” he grimaced, “I was going to but you really looked like you needed to sleep.” He gave you a worried look, inspecting your face. “You still do, actually. Do you sleep at all, like, outside of my bed?”

“I sleep plenty,” you scoffed and got out of the bed, wiping your face with your sleeves as if to rid it of any evidence that might suggest otherwise. With an awkward look, you bowed and began heading out. “Well, thank you for… your hospitality. I’ll get going. I’m sorry for bothering you. This won’t happen again.”

Before he could say another word, you slammed the door shut behind you and began heading… where were you heading?

You looked around the hallway. It was still your building. You could recognise these hallways even in your sleep. A quick glance informed you that you had just stepped out of apartment 1D – the apartment directly below yours.

You groaned as the realisation sank in that you could never visit the first floor without feeling awkward again. With a sigh, you headed up the stairs to your own apartment.

“Isn’t that Seokmin’s apartment?” Sunny pointed out when you told her of your horrible adventure on the bus home from work later that day. She frowned a little as she tried to recall exactly who lived there. 

“Whoever it was, at least it wasn’t Jihoon.” You shuttered to even think about it.

Sunny grimaced. “Yeah, I’d be bailing you both out of jail right about now.” She then shrugged. “Yeah, I think that’s Seokmin’s apartment. He really just let you stay the night there?”

“Apparently?” You wanted to laugh at the insanity of the situation. “I have no recollection of what happened or how I ended up there. The last thing I remember is working on my report in my kitchen and then waking up in a shirtless man’s apartment.”

“Shirt–” She almost broke her neck at the speed she turned her head to look at you with wide eyes. “He was shirtless when you woke up?!”

“He was getting dressed for work–”

“Well, is he hot?!”

You had never wanted to throw someone out of a moving vehicle so much before. “Is this what you’re focusing on right now? I’m going through a crisis here!”

“Yeah but–”

“You literally have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but–” She paused mid-excuse and nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Right. You have a point there.”

“How did I possibly end up in his apartment at night without remembering it?” you contemplated, leaning your head back against the seat. “I can’t think of a single explanation.”

“It is weird,” Sunny hummed in agreement as the bus rolled to your stop. The two of you got off. 

“Where’s Jeonghan?” you wondered in surprise upon not seeing him all the way up to the second floor.

Sunny shrugged, still deep in thought about your predicament. “I don’t know. Probably causing trouble with Junhui again. Possibly getting on Joshua’s or Hyesoo’s nerves. Maybe he stole someone’s mail or took the hinges off someone’s door. Not my problem.”

You could only stare at her in absolute wonder. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s his own person.” She then clapped her hands together in revelation, stopping in her steps in the middle of the hallway. “Didn’t you say you used to sleep-walk as a kid? I swear you mentioned it over coffee once.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but it hasn’t happened in a literal decade.”

“Who’s to say it didn’t happen again last night?” she suggested with a shrug. “By the way, do you wanna come over for coffee and cake? Jeonghan bought one on sale because the expiration date is today, but it’s sort of giant.”

After contemplating for a moment (more of a debate really, won by the grumbling of your stomach), you agreed and followed her into her apartment. 

As the two of you walked into the kitchen, she continued, “All I’m saying is that there’s a lot going on in your life right now and maybe it all worked together – the stress, the lack of sleep, you get the gist – and now you’re sleepwalking again.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” Jeonghan suggested. You jumped in your spot before finding him sitting at the dining table, fully focused on assembling a lego set. He continued without a care in the world, “Sleepwalking can be a serious issue.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

He finally glanced up to offer you an amused look and a chuckle. “I’m her boyfriend. Where else would I be?”

“I invited her over for coffee and cake,” Sunny informed him with a kiss on his cheek. “Play nice.”

“Yes, princess,” he spoke in reply before turning back to you. “But I would really go to the doctor if I was you. If it’s bad enough that you wake up in someone else’s apartment, it’s bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit.”

You felt yourself pale, your blood running both ice cold and lava hot. “How– Why do you know that?”

“It’s the talk of the town,” he joked before waving his joke off. “Just kidding. I met Seokmin on my way to the store earlier and he told me. He seemed worried about you.”

“So it is Seokmin!” Sunny cheered victoriously. “I knew it! I told you!”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

You sat down at the table and slumped in the chair. “But if I’m sleepwalking, why did I go to his apartment?”

“Isn’t it right below yours?” Jeonghan pointed out like it was obvious. “Asleep you probably thought you were going to your own apartment. You just mixed up the floors.”

“So,” you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose before meeting his eyes and maintaining eye contact, “what you’re suggesting is that I fell asleep–”

“Yes.”

“–in my apartment–”

“Mhm.”

“–then left my apartment for some reason–”

“That much seems obvious.”

“–and then went to Seokmin’s apartment–”

“For some reason, yes.”

“–one level below my own?”

Eyes widening, he hummed at the slight error in the logic. “You do have a point. Why would you leave your own apartment to go to your apartment?”

“My head hurts just listening to this,” Sunny informed the two of you while serving the cake. As a slice fell over on a plate she quickly assigned to Jeonghan, she suddenly suggested, “What if you thought you were going on a walk and then returned home?”

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he began recounting, “So, what you think happened is that she fell asleep–”

“I’m going to kick the both of you out if you start again,” his girlfriend declared all of a sudden, pointing a knife in his direction. “I’m serious.”

“It is a reasonable guess though,” you decided as Sunny placed a plate of cake in front of you. “I do love going on walks when I’m stressed.”

“Then–”

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. You watched in mild amusement as Sunny and Jeonghan silently argued over who should open the door and if they should open the door at all. Eventually, to your surprise, Jeonghan relented and got up with a slight groan. The moment he was out of the kitchen, Sunny stole his seat across from you.

“I think the worst part is that I don’t know how to face him again, like ever,” you started the conversation again while taking a bite of the cake. “It was so awkward.”

“Speaking of awkward,” Jeonghan announced and led the newest guest into the apartment. The now familiar feeling of both ice and lava in your veins made a new appearance as you recognised the visitor. Your spoon dropped back on the table.

Seokmin offered you a friendly smile and a wave. “Ah, so that’s where you are. I tried your door but no one answered so I wondered if I had the wrong place.”

“You–” That was the only syllable you managed to voice. Your brain was scattered, filled with pictures of the awkward morning as well as a single fluttering butterfly carrying an obnoxious sign that said ‘he cares’. You gulped. 

Thankfully, Sunny stepped in. She smiled brightly and ushered Seokmin to take a seat while she found an extra plate. 

“I wasn’t going to come and bother anyone–” he tried to reject the offer of cake, but failed to. He was too friendly for his own good – just like the rumours around the building often said. He sat in the seat Sunny had preoccupied just seconds ago, right across from you, and smiled at her. “Well, if you insist.”

“What can I do?” Jeonghan sighed and theatrically looked away as he started his monologue. “Everyone loves my girlfriend so much. How can I possibly keep her–”

“Stop being melodramatic and come eat, idiot,” Sunny laughed and took the seat next to you. “So, Seokmin, what brings you to my friend over here?”

Seokmin opened his mouth to reply before turning to you and softly asking, “Is it okay to talk about it here?”

Sunny chuckled. “About her waking up in your apartment? Go ahead. I think everyone in the building knows already.”

“Oh.” He offered you an awkward-looking smile. “Well, sorry about that. I only mentioned it to Mingyu and Jeonghan but I guess– Nevermind. I just wanted to tell you to not worry about it.” His smile brightened, genuine and full of warmth all of a sudden. “We all have rough days – and rough nights – and I’m just glad you got some rest.”

“I have one question,” Jeonghan raised his arm before asking, “where did you sleep?”

“Me?” Seokmin shrugged. “The sofa. There was a woman in my bed.”

You somehow felt both worse and better than before. At least you knew he didn’t hold a grudge – after all, he seeked you out just to tell you it had been fine – but at the same time: you made this poor man sleep on the sofa instead of his objectively comfortable bed.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I said it’s fine,” he laughed and reached out to pat your hand. “I really don’t mind. You looked like you were sleeping very well. But–” he tilted his head in thought, a slight frown appearing, “–is it possible you were sleepwalking? You didn’t react at all last night, to anything. You just… brushed past us like we weren’t even there. I don’t know if you even had your eyes open.”

Sunny all but slammed her spoon on the table to give you a haughty look. “Yep. Told you. You were sleepwalking.”

You frowned. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Should I…” Seokmin scrunched up his nose in thought. “Should I maybe keep a look out in case this happens again?”

Immediately you shook your head. “No. No need. It was a one-time thing. A fluke. It was nothing. Won’t happen again.” In your attempts to not look at him, you happened to eye the clock. Your jaw dropped. “Oh. I should go home. I have–”

“–a report due in a week and deadlines to meet,” Sunny finished for you with a laugh. “I know, I know. Go.”

Jeonghan spoke up as well, “Take the plate and another slice of cake before you go. I want to know you eat at least a little between your work.”

You did as you were told and made your escape without another word, not even a goodbye to Seokmin. 

You had no time to feel guilty or consider that your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him coming to find you. Once again, you buried your feelings into lines of Times New Roman in your report.

“Oh, you come here too?” you heard his voice just two days later at the grocery store. 

It was a little surprising to find him there: the store was a good mile further from the one closest to your building. Like a startled owl, you stared and blinked at him in the cereal aisle. 

As you opened your mouth to respond, he chuckled and looked away at the cereals. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk to me. I just needed to get some Fruit Loops and figured I might as well say hi.” He placed the cereal in question into his basket and offered you one more friendly smile and a playful wave. “So, hi!”

“Hi,” you managed to drag out as you lifted your hand in a wave. 

With a chuckle, he turned and headed away to the next aisle. You thought you were free from him for the day. 

But alas: you found him again when you went to get eggs. He seemed to be contemplating between two brands. You tried your best to go unnoticed as you searched for your favourite local free range brand. To you dismay, he stood right in front of the eggs you seeked. 

“Excuse me,” you started and tapped his shoulder when he didn’t seem to notice.

He smiled upon recognising you. “Yeah?”

“Could you move? I want those eggs.”

“The expensive ones?” He raised an eyebrow and handed you a carton. “They’re almost triple the price of the store brand.”

“But they’re free range and locally sourced. You should try them,” you explained with the slightest bit of enthusiasm before placing eggs into your cart and walking away in the direction you thought him least likely to follow. 

You truly thought you were free of him when you went to the checkout, but once again, as if tasked by god himself to be wherever you went, Seokmin was in front of you in queue, meticulously placing his items on the counter. As he turned to put away his basket, his eyes found yours and a bright smile appeared on his face. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“It’s me again,” you replied with an awkward laugh. 

“Are you leaving too?” he wondered while fishing his bag for his wallet. When you nodded, his eyes lit up. “Do you need a ride home?”

Your eyes widened. “A ride?” 

Why was he offering you a ride home? Why was he so friendly with you at all? You had broken into his apartment – in the eyes of the legal system anyway – and he was smiling at you like you were a beloved friend. 

“Of course. We should stick together, no? We’re neighbours, after all– Hold on,” he interrupted himself to respond to the cashier, “Yes, by card please.Thank you.”

“You might have to wait a moment then,” you finally relented when he turned to you once again, eyes resembling a puppy. His smile widened at your words and he nodded. 

The ride home was short and awkward. You greatly feared he would try to retaliate for the emotional damage you might’ve caused by sleeping in his apartment. To your relief, he did not such thing and only continued cheerfully chattering.

“–but I feel like a dog would be too much work, you know? I love dogs but I don’t have that kind of time.” He offered you a glance. “Do you have any pets?”

You scrunched up your face in thought as the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot of the building. “I have a cactus.”

“... Does it have a name?”

Eager to not disappoint, you blurted out the first name that came to mind: “Bertha.” You shut your eyes in shame.

But as the two of you got out of his small red car, he laughed. “Bertha? Sounds lovely. Is she high-maintenance?”

“Very.”

“Yeah?”

You decided you liked his laughter and the bright smile that came with. “Easier than a dog though.”

He laughed louder at that and handed you your grocery bags. “I bet. Maybe I should get a cactus too.”

“I highly recommend,” you chuckled, finding his laughter contagious. “It’s very fulfilling to watch it do absolutely nothing all-year-round.”

When the two of you got into the hallway, he paused in front of the staircase. As you were about to ask him about it, he asked, “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, I’m–”

“They look heavy.” He frowned before holding up a single finger, jogging over to his door, dropping his singular bag in front of it, and running back to you. Before you could formally protest, he grabbed the bags from your hands and began the journey up the stairs. When you froze in your spot, he turned to ask, “Well, aren’t you coming? Or were you going to sleep at mine again?”

Your face burned at the teasing comment. You decided following after him was the lesser evil. 

“There we go,” he cheered when the two of you reached your door. He rubbed his hands against his thighs a few times, awkwardly like a schoolboy, before smiling and waving goodbye. “I guess this is goodbye for the day. It was nice talking to you.”

You didn’t manage to even thank him before he was already halfway down the stairs. Maybe you made him as nervous as you made him. As you went to sleep that night, you replayed the interaction over and over again in your head, failing to hide a smile at the memory.

The valley of the mattress had a hold over you. You had never been so comfortable waking up – well, with the exception of maybe once or twice. 

The pillows were the perfect temperature, the blanket hugged you just right, the big teddy bear you hugged to your chest smelled fresh out of the washing machine– 

“Since when do I have a teddy bear?” you grumbled in confusion and pried your eyes open. You felt all blood rush away from your face as you looked at the bear – light brown with a baby blue bow, its eyes shining up at you. 

You had never even seen this bear before.

Cursing under your breath, you glanced around the room. You were back in your very own personal hell full of flowing beige curtains, white unfamiliar sheets, and teddy bears: the hell known as Seokmin’s apartment.

The realisation brought tears of frustration to your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them loose. It was barely 8 am but you were already on the verge of crying – what a joke.

Wiping your eyes, you all but slammed the bear down on the bed (you’ll never admit you did feel a little bad about it seconds later and gave it a little pat on the head) and stood up. You stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the front door. 

As you reached for the doorknob – the final obstacle on your journey out of hell –, you heard his voice, sweet as honey like always, “Oh, you’re not going to stay for breakfast?”

You froze.

“I made extra waffles and all,” he added, sounding a little dejected. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so you sighed softly and turned around to give him a tight-lipped not-quite-genuine smile. His own grin brightened at the sight. “Is that a yes? You’ll stay?”

“Only for the waffles,” you lied and took a seat at his table. 

He laughed and placed a plate of fresh food in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “Not because you don’t want me to feel bad?”

“No,” you grabbed a fork and began filling it with food, “I just don’t like food waste.”

“Oh, right! Minghao said you work for an environmental company. That sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” You swallowed your food. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

He cleared his throat as though the question had caught him by surprise and he was too shy to say. After a moment of silence, he bashfully admitted, “I’m a music teacher at primary school.”

You blinked in surprise. “A music teacher?”

“Well, I wanted to be a singer– a musical actor, actually,” he explained, his voice fluctuating in volume and his ears bright red, “but I’m a little too shy to audition. So I just stuck with teaching others to sing.”

“That’s so cool though,” you told him with a smile. “Are you good at singing?”

His ears seemed to turn an even deeper red. “My friends think so but I don’t know. I think there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

“Then why not audition? You only live once.”

He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden, watching your increasingly awkward self. You were just about ready to apologise for your possibly intrusive question when he softly asked, “Why not rest and live a little? You only live once, right?” 

The question felt awfully pointed and you didn’t fail to let him know with a glare. 

“I’m serious,” he declared, his lips pouting a little as if he was actually upset at your lack of self-care. “Whenever I see you, you’re always rushing somewhere. The only person you seem to be friends with is Sunny, and maybe Jeonghan by association.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m also friends with Minghao–”

“He barely even leaves his apartment. He doesn’t count.”

“He counts!”

“Do I count?”

“Of course you–” Your eyes widened as did his smile. 

“We’re friends now!” he declared while pointing an accusatory finger at you, his voice raising in excitement. You began to protest but he was having none of it. “No take-backs! We’re friends – you just said so!”

“I didn’t actually–”

“Nope. No. We’re friends.” He narrowed his eyes at you, his smile never fading. “Or do you just sleep in random guys’ beds?”

You wanted to protest, you really did, but there’s only so much you can say to defend yourself against such accusations. Besides, his bright smile at your defeated nod could’ve won awards.

Accidentally waking in his apartment didn’t end. No. In fact, it somehow got worse.

Once every week quickly turned into once every few days. You were tempted to start keeping track of how often you woke up in your own bed but one could assume the numbers wouldn’t be too impressive. 

You grew accustomed to the smell of his detergent and the smell of breakfast in the mornings. Was this what it might’ve been like to be in a relationship? 

“How come you’ve never dated anyone?” he wondered once over breakfast.

You shrugged. “I don’t have the time.”

“Too busy saving the world?” he teased like he often did. Over time you stopped finding it annoying (perhaps because he sounded almost genuinely proud of you every time he said it). 

“I assume you don’t get a lot of dates either,” you bit right back between bites of pancakes.

He seemed to be taken aback by your observation. “What makes you think that?”

“You sleep with a teddy bear, Seokmin,” you deadpanned. 

He pouted. “Fluffy is a premium sleep companion.”

You laughed. “Is he?”

“You steal him every other night!” he accused with a chuckle. “I’m sure you know how great he is by now.”

“He’s truly a– What did you say? A premium sleep companion?”

“That’s what the label said when I got him.”

“Maybe I should invest in a bear too,” you wondered thoughtfully between bites. 

Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

“No ti–”

“If you make the ‘no time’ excuse again, I will scream,” he said with in utmost seriousness. You promptly shut up: Seokmin’s lung capacity was well-known by everyone in the building.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “You know, if it’s physical contact that you need to sleep– Nevermind. How are the pancakes?”

Whether it was to save your or his dignity, you chose to ignore his first comment and answered only the last question, “Their colour is nicer than usual. I like the golden colour.”

“I guess the free range eggs really do make a difference,” Seokmin mused with a chuckle. When you offered him a surprised look, he hummed in confusion. “What?”

“You bought free range eggs? Didn’t you say they were too expensive last time?”

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well try to make some more ethical choices while shopping. Besides, you recommended them–”

Your eyes welled up a little. “You bought more expensive eggs because I recommended them?”

“And because I care for animals,” he added in a little too fast. 

You laughed and nodded. “For the animals, right. Me too.”

“Do you ever rest from your work?” he wondered after a moment. “What do you do outside of it?”

“I… don’t know. I read. I like to clean.”

“But what about going to festivals? Swimming? Cycling? Dancing?” He grew more and more desperate as you rejected every hobby he offered. “No wonder you’re so tired all of the time! You’re a workaholic.”

You snorted. “Sunny did say I’m similar to Jihoon.”

“I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“I think he’s worse though.”

“Oh, definitely, but he doesn’t go to sleep in his neighbours’ beds,” Seokmin pointed out with a look of worry. As he watched you for an exactly uncomfortable amount of time, his eyes eventually lit up again. “I have an idea. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“Working–”

“I swear if I hear that word one more time, I will scream.”

You, once again, promptly shut up. 

“Great,” he beamed and clapped his hands together, “I’ll text you to details later.”

“You’re not even going to tell me what we’re doing?”

You sighed in disappointment as he smiled brightly and shook his head ‘no’. 

A knock on your door notified you of his arrival. Despite being sure it wasn’t meant to be a date and knowing that Seokmin had seen you in far worse condition, you still took a deep breath and gave yourself a quick once-over at the mirror.

When you opened the door, he smiled at you brightly. “I see you’ve dressed up too.”

“I would hardly call this dressed up,” you told him rather sheepishly, suddenly even more aware of you appearance. “You look very dapper as well.”

“Yep, and do you want to know why?” 

“Why?”

His smile widened so much you worried for his cheeks. “Because you and I are going to the theatre.”

“The theatre?” You paled at the mention and looked down at your outfit. “I feel like I’m underdressed then.”

“You look fine,” he laughed and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late. And trust me,” he widened his eyes for dramatic effect, “you don’t want to be late.”

You gave in begrudgingly and locked the door as fast as you could while he practically bounced at your side in excitement. 

“What are we going to watch then?” you finally remembered to ask when you entered the theatre less than 15 minutes later. “I swear, if you dragged me here to watch an opera–”

“It’s a musical, actually,” he admitted bashfully. “I love musicals and I don’t know much about other theatre performances so I thought– But if you don’t like musicals, that’s–”

“I don’t mind musicals,” you told him with a little laugh and pat on his shoulder. “But I have to admit, it has been ages since my last time at the theatre, and I haven’t seen a musical in a few years at least.”

“That’s fine. I’ll guide you through it.” And as if the last shy bone had left his body, he grabbed your hand and led you to your seats, all the while widely smiling at you and giving your hand periodical squeezes of encouragement. 

His hand never left yours for the duration of the musical, not even for intermission, not even when he ordered cake from the theatre café to hold you over until after the show. His hand remained warm in yours, fingers squeezing a little tighter every once in a while, his thumb running over the back of your hand. 

It was so warm, so comforting. Just his presence alone was enough to make you dizzy with the feeling of safety and happiness. His touch? You were floating on cloud 9 with zero regard for what was going on below – or on the stage, for that matter.

Frankly, you could barely remember to watch the musical because you were so busy marvelling at the feel of his hand in yours. 

“That was so good,” he excitedly told you as the two of you returned to your apartment. “The music was phenomenal.”

“The actors were very good.” And that was the only contribution you could make to the conversation because you definitely hadn’t paid any attention to the plot and your knowledge of music was simply not there.

But thankfully, that seemed to be far more than enough. His eyes gleamed as he sat onto your sofa and gestured widely while speaking, “Right? The leading woman was just– Incredible, fantastic. Her range! I’m a little jealous, actually.”

You took the seat next to him. To your surprise, his hand found yours once again, wasting no time in interlocking your fingers. And just like that, paying attention to anything else became difficult. 

Were you really developing a crush on him? Just like that? You refused. You were too busy to be pining after a man. 

But when slid closer to your side and looked at you like you were the most wonderful person to ever exist, you suddenly didn’t care about the lack of time. Screw it. You’d make time if it meant you got to see his star-filled eyes again. 

“... Sorry, what?” you coughed out when he paused and looked at you expectantly.

He laughed. “You’re so cute. I asked if you wanted to go see another musical with me someday.”

“I’d love to,” you blurted out without thinking. 

Yeah. Screw deadlines. 

“Okay, perfect!” His smile brightened up the entire room as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Because I heard they’re doing Excalibur next season and I desperately need a friend to go watch it with me. I saw the premise and heard a preview of one of the songs and they’re holding auditions next month and I am already obsessed–”

Your brain was barely functioning at all, and yet you could recall one single memory from the depths of it. A dream he had shared. “Then why don’t you audition?”

He sat up abruptly, looking at you as if you were insane. “I couldn’t possibly–”

“Why not?” you asked. “I heard you singing the other day. You’re really good. I think you could get any part pretty easily.”

His ears turned more red with every word you said. “You flatter me…”

“I’m serious, Seokmin!”

“I’m not that good. And I have zero acting experience, aside from a few courses I did in college. Why would they ever pick me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” you countered and he scoffed.

“I can think of a few–”

“You never know if you don’t try,” you told him and raised your hand to brush a stray hair off his forehead. “I’m rooting for you.”

As your words faded into the night and your eyes met, you wondered if he could feel the sparks flying and bursting all around you as well. Did he also feel that overwhelming adoration for you? 

He sighed after a while, a bashful smile on his face. “You must be tired. It’s been a long night. Go to sleep.”

“I really should,” you yawned as if on cue. You shared a laugh at the timing.

He squeezed your hand one last time. “Well, good night then. I expect I’ll find you at my apartment in the morning–”

“Or you could stay here and we don’t have to worry about that,” you blurted without thinking. Your face flashed hot right after. 

Had there been any alcohol in that cake he bought for you? Why were you feeling so bold all of a sudden? 

“I–” He seemed speechless.

“I don’t know why I said that,” you rushed out and avoided his eyes. “I think I’m just really tired and work has been stressful and maybe my brain is just broke–”

He placed his hand behind your neck and led your head to rest against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You could hear his body rumble with laughter as he held you. “I’d love to stay over. Besides,” he pushed you away just enough to look you in the eyes again, “I think it’s only fair that I get to sleep over this once, because you sleep over at my place a lot.”

You frowned and pouted. “It’s not like I mean to–”

“A lot,” he repeated with wide eyes and a teasing smile before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

When you recounted the half-embarrassing and yet half-lovestruck happenings of the previous night to Sunny on the way back from work, she stared at you in bafflement.

“You actually asked him to sleep over?” she gasped, hand over her heart as if she was a peasant woman of the 16th century hearing the most scandalous gossip. “You little vixen!”

“Nothing happened,” you insistently told her as the two of you stepped off the bus.

She huffed. “That’s honestly so boring. I mean, have you seen that man? What I wouldn’t give to–”

“I am once again reminding you that you already have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t know what we’re into in the bedroom,” she countered with a smirk.

You only now realised how much Jeonghan was rubbing off on her. She was becoming a second him, slowly but surely. Couple of the year.

“I’m taking away your friend privileges, Sunny,” you told her at that and rushed ahead to avoid hearing any more weirdly Jeonghan-like jokes from her. 

She laughed at that before running after you. “Okay, okay, no more dirty jokes.”

“Thank god,” you sighed towards the sky.

“So, did any sleepwalking occur?” she then asked before humming in thought. “Well, I imagine if it had, I would’ve heard about it by now. It would’ve been quite a sight to see Seokmin running after an asleep you towards his apartment at 2 am.”

“I didn’t sleepwalk.” 

And frankly, if you had, Seokmin must have done a very good job of getting you back to your own bed because you woke up exactly how and where you fell asleep – wrapped in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

Sunny suddenly stopped in spot. Her eyes wide, her lips parted. She pointed an accusatory finger at you, “Wait, does that mean you two are dating now?”

You weren’t sure you had the answer. And you wouldn’t have time to find the answer for a while.

“Good morning!” you heard Seokmin’s voice before you even opened your eyes.

Unlike the previous few times, disappointment filled you as realisation hit. You groaned and turned over to bury your face in his numerous pillows, hoping you could suffocate yourself out of a mildly infuriating nightmare.

Seokmin clicked his tongue. “Not quite the greeting I was expecting, especially considering I was greeted with a hug the last time we shared a bed.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh, you’re mean today.”

“Did I fall asleep mid-work again?” you sighed and slowly sat up to glare at nothing in particular. Seokmin went to great lengths to avoid whatever direction to directed your deadly look to. “God, I bet I didn’t even make it to the second graph– I’m not gonna have time to go to the office for work today.”

He stared at you curiously. “So, work from home? I mean, if you have the possibility.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll get distracted and then I still won’t end up doing anything,” you whined before falling back into the pillows. You wanted to cry just at the thought of that stupid report waiting on your idle laptop. 

“Why are you so stressed about this report anyway? I don’t think you were ever this upset over any other reports.”

“If this project report goes through, and we pull off this project – which I still have to plan, oh my god, I am so far behind–”

Seokmin laughed at your frantic movements and moved over to place his hands on your shoulders and keep you still. “Hey, hey, don’t get distracted. If the project goes through…?”

You took a deep breath. “If the project goes well, I will get a promotion. Less hours, better pay.” You sighed. “Then maybe I’ll be able to get a dog like I’ve always wanted.”

“That sounds wonderful! We should celebrate with breakfast,” he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

But as tempting as it sounded, you simply didn’t have any time to chat. You had work to do. And so, you stood up, fixed your hair, gave Seokmin an affectionate yet half-hearted pat on the back and headed for the door. 

You couldn’t wait to spend your day in complete lonely misery. At work you at least had friends to talk between sections. All you had in your apartment was Bertha and instant coffee.

And it was as if Seokmin knew it just from the way you spoke to him that morning. 

When the clock struck twelve, you heard a timid knock on your door. Confused at the noise and a little disoriented from the five pages of words you had written, you stood up and went to the door. 

Your heart grew three sizes when you saw him standing there, looking so awfully huggable in his large white hoodie and grey sweatpants, glasses on his nose accompanied by a kind smile. You were so surprised to find him there that you failed to consider why he came. 

He had to nudge you with the plastic bag he was holding for you to even notice it.

“Sorry,” you stammered and stepped aside to let him in, “I’m just a little-”

“Stress? Overworked? Confused because you’ve been staring at a 15-inch screen for the past three hours?” he suggested and brought the bag to the kitchen. “That’s okay. Don’t even mind me.” He smiled as he nodded towards your laptop. “Go on. Work waits. The sooner you get to it, the sooner it’ll be done.”

Disoriented as you were, you didn’t dare argue and slowly walked back to your previous seat at the coffee table, all the while watching him cautiously. 

As your fingers landed on the keyboard, he began lifting things out of the bag. You watched in awe as he stacked snacks and vegetables onto the counter. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he lifted his head to glare at you. “Work.”

“Work,” you repeated on instinct and turned back to your laptop. He laughed a little at your robotic tone. 

Some 20 minutes later, you felt a presence next to you. When you turned to face it, Seokmin was holding an fruit slice up at your lips. 

“Eat,” he told you softly. You did as told.

“What are you doing?” you asked between confused laughter and chewing. Your eyes landed on the bowl of fruits he had placed in front of you. 

He shrugged. “Taking care of you. You seemed so upset this morning… I thought it would be nice to spend my free day helping you.”

Your eyes widened. “It’s your free day? And you’re here? You should be resting!”

“Watching you is all the rest I need,” he winked playfully before lifting another fruit to your lips. “Now, eat up. This is lunch. I’ll make something better for dinner.”

“You don’t have to–” 

He took this chance to shove a piece of apple into your mouth, effectively interrupting your speech. “I will, and I don’t care what you say.”

He glanced around the apartment as you began to eat the fruits on your own. “When was the last time you opened a window?”

You watched curiously as he stood up (with a groan because his bones simply weren’t as nimble as they used to be) and headed over to the windows, opening a few to air out the room. As he did so, he told you, “They say that good airflow and fresh air help the thought process. We air out the classrooms between every lesson so the next students won’t get too tired.”

“I don’t think I’ve opened any windows in here since I first moved in,” you confessed before turning back to your laptop. Before you could your train of thought again, a soft fabric was placed on your shoulders. You looked up to find him smiling at you brightly. “So you won’t get cold.”

“What about you then?”

He shrugged and winked. “I’ll just consider this my daily walk in the park.” He then looked around the apartment again, as if looking for something to do. You couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“Maybe… you could… make me a cup of tea?” you suggested.

He lit up at the idea. “Coming right up!”

Before heading to the kitchen, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. It seemed almost like a reflex – like he didn’t even need to think about doing it. 

Relishing in the leftover warmth of his lips and the feel of his hoodie on your skin, your work took a backseat for a while. Instead of thinking about your project of a lifetime, your brain was drowning in one singular question. You glanced towards the kitchen to watch him, a smile appearing on your face as you did. 

“Seokmin?” you called out softly after a moment. 

He hummed in response immediately, eyes lifting from the cup he was preparing so he could offer you an encouraging smile. 

You took a deep breath. “What are we?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“You and I. What are we to each other?” you wondered, unable to look away from him. There was something you badly wanted to hear him say and yet feared at the same time. “What are you to me?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I… I’ll be whatever you’d like me to be.”

“Whatever? A friend?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he breathed out, a little shakier than before.

“What about a lover?”

He smiled. “If you so wish.”

“Then… what do you want me to be?” you asked him quietly, a part of you praying your words would go missing in the incoming wind before they reached him. 

“I just…” He bit his lip in contemplation, ears turning red, and avoided your eyes.

“What do you want me to be to you, Seokmin?” you repeated your question, a little bolder this time, hope sparking in your heart.

He looked up again, into your eyes. “Mine.” You let out a breath – of relief or fear, you weren’t sure – but he didn’t hesitate when he repeated, “I want you to be mine.”

You felt guilty for the words you’d utter next. “But we don’t have the time for that…”

“That’s okay,” he assured you with a kind smile. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Slow? How slow do we take it?”

“As slow as you need. I’m not leaving.”

“I signed up for the auditions,” he told you over breakfast a few days later. “Jihoon’s helping me prepare.”

You were still neck-deep in your project, struggling to meet the deadlines and coordinate your team. This seemed to lead the asleep you to Seokmin’s apartment more often than not. It was almost like you woke up in his bed every morning now. 

But even in your despair, you couldn’t help but be excited for Seokmin.

Your eyes lit up and a squeal came out as you grabbed his hand over the table. “Really? You did?!”

He used his free hand to rub the back of his neck bashfully. “Well, you said I should give it a try, right? Who knows,” he shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant or even fake a little bit of confidence, “maybe they’ll give me a part.”

“I’m sure they will,” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “Your voice is amazing and you’re so handsome – the ladies are going to swoon when they see you on the stage.”

He laughed. “Will you be one of those ladies?”

“I’ll be in the front row,” you solemnly promised. “At every show. You’ll get sick of seeing me.”

“I could never,” he assured you.

Seokmin’s audition would take place two weeks later. You made sure the mark the day with a big red circle on your calendar – on all three of them, in fact. And now it was time.

Between your seemingly endless stream of project complications and Seokmin’s daytime job and audition preparations, you barely saw him. If it weren’t for your persistent sleepwalking problem, you wouldn’t have seen him at all. And so, the curse had became a blessing. 

“You’ll do great,” you assured him minutes after waking up in his bed. You made sure to give him the warmest hug before letting him leave the room. “I believe in you. And so does Jihoon, apparently.”

Seokmin pouted. “Did he say that or are you lying to make me feel better?”

“We talked yesterday,” you told him, appalled that he’d even accuse you of such atrocities. “He said he has complete faith that you’ll do well.”

“I don’t believe you but–”

“Do you want to fight me? Already?” You raised a brow and he shook his head immediately. “Exactly. Just accept the compliment. And don’t forget to call me when you finish, okay?”

“Of course,” he promised.

He kept that promise. Just as he stepped out of the theatre, his shaky hands picked up the phone and chose your number. 

You answered the call with prep in your voice. It had been a good day so far and you were expecting to hear his no-doubt joyous retellings of the audition.

What you weren’t expecting was: “Can you come get me? I think I might cry.”

“Why, why?” Despite your words, you didn’t hesitate to slam your laptop closed and grab your jacket. “Are you okay? Were they mean?”

“They weren’t mean,” he mumbled on the other side of the line, “but I don’t think I did well.”

“I’m sure you did wonderful,” you spoke while rushing down the street. Thankfully, the theatre was barely a five-minute walk from your office – half that at your current pace. “You’re just putting yourself down over nothing.”

Seokmin whined. “You’re seriously overestimating me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. You overestimate me.”

As you crossed the street, you noticed a familiar figure dragging his feet along the pavement, head low and shoulders slumped. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because you like me a little more than you should,” he suggested while kicking a pebble. You could already hear his voice even without the phone. “I’m sure the directors think I’m a joke or something. God, I am so–”

“Don’t you dare say another bad word about yourself,” you scolded him with a gentle slap against the back of his head. 

He stared at you in bewilderment – both from the fact that you might as well have appeared from thin air and the fact that you just did that. 

But you were unrelenting in your affection for him. “Lee Seokmin, listen to me: you did absolutely great. You did your best. And even if you don’t get a part this time, they’ll value the fact that you now have experience with auditions. Take it in stride.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. Before long, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you impossibly tight. “You’re just saying that… Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, silly,” you laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. “I think we should celebrate this occasion.”

“Even if I screwed up and don’t get the part?”

You scoffed. “Absolutely! A little cake can make everything better, no?”

He sighed. “I don’t think I can eat right now. I might throw up from the nerves.”

“Drink then?”

He contemplated and then straightened up. “I could go for some bubble tea…”

“There we go!” you cheered and gently pinched his cheeks, prompting a small giggle. “My treat because you did so well today and I’m so proud of you.”

This time it was you who grabbed his hand without any hesitation, more than happy to reassuringly squeeze it as you walked and talked. 

“When will you get the answer?” you wondered.

He sucked in a breath. “In about a week, they said. Or maybe never–”

“Seokmin,” you scolded.

“In a week,” he corrected himself with some enthusiasm. “I’ll get answers in a week. And then I might actually cry.”

“And I’ll be there when you cry tears of joy, darling.”

“Tears of joy?” He raised a brow and smiled in disbelief. “You seriously put too much faith in me.”

You nudged his side. “As if you haven’t been equally supportive about my promotion.”

“Oh, right,” Seokmin gasped, “won’t your promotion interview be in a week too?”

You would’ve preferred he didn’t remind you. Then again, you guessed it was only fair. 

“Will you come over to hold me when I cry too?”

“Tears of joy?” he teased and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I’ll be just a call away.”

The week somehow passed at both the pace of a snail and the pace of Junhui on a sugar rush. 

After finding you in his bed every single morning, Seokmin resorted to just sleeping over at your place, tightly cuddling you to keep you in place. He now had a whole drawer dedicated to his things in your bedroom. 

The day started okay. You were awoken not by a loud alarm like you had expected, but by Seokmin gently singing you awake. 

For a moment, you thought you had died and gone straight to heaven – maybe working so hard to save the environment had paid off after all, you thought. But no, it was just your reality. 

What a beautiful reality. You couldn’t help but smile as you cuddled into his chest.

“If you keep clinging onto me like that, I won’t be able to make my famous waffles for a lucky breakfast,” he whispered but made no attempt to push you away. 

The delicious breakfast was followed by an encouraging hug on the way out of the building, him to the school and you to the office. You wore a smile the entire time.

Up until you made it to your desk. Then the reality began sinking in. 

This was the day that could make or break your career. The day you had worked so hard for that you neglected your private life for so many years.

As the clock on the wall slowly ticked forward, your hands began to shake. Your throat was dry. Your head was fuzzy, full of nothing but anxiety. If someone had asked you about anything, you would’ve only been able to stare at them with a mouth wide open.

20 minutes until your scheduled interview. You were starting to feel sick. 

When another colleague came to give you a supportive pat on the back, you excused yourself and grabbed your phone to rush outside to the balcony. You sat on a chair and willed yourself to take deep breaths as you tapped on his number.

You wanted to slap yourself when you realised that you hadn’t even bothered to check if he was on break yet.

But he answered on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? Did you have the interview alread–”

“Seokmin, I can’t do this,” you whimpered into the microphone. “I can’t do this. They’re gonna realise I’m an idiot and they’ll fire me and–”

“Woah, woah, what happened to your positive can-do attitude?” he wondered. “You’ll be fine.”

“No–”

“(Y/n),” he said your voice so firmly that your breath got caught in your throat. “(Y/n), you will be fine. You’ve worked there for so many years, you’ve achieved so many things. If they wanted to fire you, they would’ve done that by now.”

You took a shaky breath. “What if it’s an elaborate prank?”

“Why would– Baby, listen to me. You’ve worked hard. You put everything you had into that project – I was there, I saw it. You and your ideas are invaluable to your company. They’re going to ask you a few questions as a formality and they’re going to give that promotion and then you and I are going to go to a celebratory dinner and it’ll all be over.”

“And I can get a dog?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You can get two dogs if you want, baby,” he laughed. “You deserve it. Don’t underestimate yourself. I believe in you and I’m sure your co-workers do as well.”

“How do you always know the right words to say?”

He laughed once again. “Baby, I’m a teacher. I’m literally trained to comfort people. I’m just glad I’m able to comfort you as well.”

“Thank you.”

“No need,” he responded, “just go and ace that interview. Okay?”

“And then you’ll come and wipe my happy tears?”

“You already know the answer to that question. But I expect the same treatment when I get my audition results.”

“Will do.”

“Go and get them, tiger.”

You weren’t sure what it was, but something about the conversation seemed to have lifted the weight off your shoulders. When you walked back to the office, the upcoming interview no longer felt as taunting. 

As the clock hit 2 pm, you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and headed to your manager’s office.

When the day ended, you found Seokmin standing in front of the office building, a blinding smile on his face. 

“Well?” he asked expectantly, though the look in his eyes said that he had every faith that you would only give him good news. You were glad to prove him right. 

Your coy smile was replaced with joyous laughter as you ran to hug him and called out, “I got the job!”

“You got it? You got it!” he cheered with you, jumping up and down with you in his arms, not far from spinning you around in the air. “I knew you would! What did I tell you? Silly you,” he let you out of his hold to place his hands on your cheeks and pull your face closer to his own, “you thought you wouldn’t get the promotion. Look at you now. I’m so proud of you.”

You breathed out in relief. The smile seemed to never stop tugging on your cheeks. “I’m so relieved I could cry.”

“Then who will dry my happy tears?” he teased with a bright smile.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Wait–”

“I got the part,” he whispered, his smile only growing wider, eyes sparkling. “I’m going to become a musical actor, officially.”

“Oh my god!” you practically squealed and now it was your turn to hug him and jump. He was glad to join you, laughing in glee. “I knew you could do it! I knew it!”

As joy got the best of you – and who could blame you: this was the happiest day of your life so far –, you grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you to press your lips against his own. He melted into the gesture, arms wrapping around you tighter as if to will the moment to last forever. 

When you pulled back, just enough so that your noses touched, he laughed in disbelief. “I thought we were supposed to take it slow?”

“Screw taking it slow,” you whispered and kissed him again. “Might as well make it a triple celebration.”

“I like the sound of that.”

BONUS !

While practically leaning out of their open window to watch you and Seokmin kiss under the streetlights on your way home, Jeonghan and Sunny argued.

“I told you they would get together,” Sunny declared, her eyebrows raised as if to dare her boyfriend to prove her wrong. 

Jeonghan scoffed. “Please. They’re just kissing. It could be casual.”

“Just say you don’t want to owe me 20 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you 20 bucks! We have no confirmation!”

“Jeonghan, listen here–”

“No, no, you listen–”

“Both of you listen here!” Chan bellowed from the window above them. “If you don’t stop arguing right now, I will report you both to Jihoon’s parents! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Silence followed. “And pay her the 20 bucks, Jeonghan. They’re clearly together.”

Jeonghan grumbled and glared upwards before fishing a 20 out of his pocket and handing it to his smiling girlfriend.

[greaterspawnislands]

note: this is NOT a full captioned transcription that includes complete descriptions of the surroundings. this is purely a dialogue transcription of c!sam and c!phil’s conversation from this stream on 11/2/2022 starting at 12:20

under a read more to preserve the dash

“Look, Phil, look! I can control the clone. It’s so strange, I- I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s like I’m just in this body now, I-”

“What the...”

“It’s crazy, Phil. And, and I have a new design, this is just the prototype. With the real thing, you could control multiple bodies, and you could have them in very different places and be doing multiple things like, communicate instantly anywhere in the world, Phil. Like, whenever we needed to meet up, like, you could instantly be there. Just imagine how much this could change our lives. No one has to suffer, like, every again. No one has to die, nothing bad has to happen.”

“No, no, no, no, no, this- no. This is messing with the natural order of things, Sam. This- what this is, is a potential opening to darkness.”

“But Phil, I mean- just think about it! If you hurt yourself, and you break your leg, right? I can just make you a new body, and you can just, move your consciousness into that body, it’s- it’s amazing.”

“And then... never die.”

“Yeah! You never have to die. As soon as your body starts to like, get old and break apart, like, it doesn’t matter. You can just- you can just be done with that body and get a new one, it’s...”

“Oh, She, She won’t like this, She won’t like this, Sam, She really will not like this.”

“What? I- who? I don’t see how you don’t see this as a wonderful thing, I-”

“Sam, promise me you will break this machine, this- this cannot- I know your intentions are good. But this thing, this messes with the natural order of everything. You can’t- you can’t eliminate death from the world, Sam, it- it needs to exist.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve already done it. No one has to die anymore. What do you mean, I can’t, I’ve done it, I’ve already done it!”

“Sam, you realize what you’re saying Sam? You’re not thinking this through.”

“You can’t ask me to give this up, Phil.”

“People need to die, they need to move on. They need to grow, new generations need to be formed. It’s how the world adapts, it’s how everything grows. It’s how we evolve. Sam, this is-”

“I can’t give this up, Phil. This is- I can’t even believe you. I can’t believe you don’t believe in this!”

“Sam, I know you, I’ve known you a while now. But this...trust me when I say this will bring nothing but bad things. This will bring nothing but hurt.”

“But... there’s so many people I could help with this, Phil.”

“Then help them in different ways! You could cure disease, you could- you could do literally anything but cheat death. Cheating death is something you cannot do, and should not do.”

“I can’t give this up, Phil. I won’t.”

“Then I... I guess I can no longer be friends with you. I’m going to have to stop coming by, if- Sam, you, right here, right now.”

“Phil, I’m... I’m the only person who can hang around with you now! Like, I can, I can be there...what? What do you mean, you told me before, you were looking for something to be meaningful, and like, someone that you could be friends with for a long time. That could be me! I could be there, and- and we wouldn’t have to have anything go wrong. You’re gonna just give up on all of that?”

“But everyone dies eventually, Sam. I could die at any moment, I could die, and that would be it. Just because I’ve lived a long time doesn’t mean I’m not invincible. There needs to be-”

“Yeah, but I don’t, I don’t want that, Phil, I don’t want that world. Wouldn’t it be better if we could build a bunker and, like, hide our real bodies, and we could be in different bodies! And then, even if someone murdered us, we could, we could break out of the stasis and we could go out and find those people and take revenge, or, just stay away if we wanted to.”

“Sam. Promise me you’ll break this machine.”

“I’m not giving up on this, Phil. I wont, I won’t break it.”

“Then I guess it’s farewell.”

“Fine, fine, but you’re going to change your mind.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

“And when you need a new body, ‘cause that one’s old and breaking down, don’t come to me and ask for one, because I won’t do it.”

“Fine by me.”

“Fine.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

“Goodbye, Phil.”

[officialsimppage]

-Drunk Thoughts-

Request- Maybe a Spencer Reid x reader who rambles facts when drunk and Spencer hears it for the first time and is shocked at how much they know and that it's all correct information?? 

Thank you for requesting! I think this is a good blurb idea, so that’s what I’m going to do! So around 1k to 1.k words? I hope that's fine! This is based around s7! 

I pulled up to the bar the team was planning on going to tonight. I was originally going to hang out with my new puppy, but I guess this is better. I grab my handbag and get out of the car. I’m wearing my new cocktail dress which Is short, red, and low cut. Perfect outfit for a good time. My main goal is to impress Spencer. We have been dating for around 6 months and we haven’t been to a nightclub together! It has been crazy since Emily died, and came back to life. So my plan is to show him what I got. I walk inside and I hear the music blasting and lights going crazy.

 Let me introduce you to my party people

In the club

It's a new generation of party people

Get 'em up, yeah

I walk around until I see Penelope in one of her extravagant outfits. I walk up behind her and tap her on the shoulder.

“Y/N! You made it!” She yells wrapping her arms around me. Obviously drunk already. 

“Wow um hi! You smell like vodka martinis! Where's Spence?” I say laughing. She then laughs and drinks a shot. 

“Drink this!” She says handing me a shot. 

“Oh, oh ok!” I say downing the drink. I feel it burn as the amber liquid goes down my throat. She then smiles and sighs, looks up and down my body and says,

“God you are so beautiful! I wish I had your body with your tiny waist,” grabbing my waist. “And your flat tummy. Oo! It’s sculpted too!” She said as she felt my stomach as if I was pregnant. I catch Spencer's eye and he sees what she's doing and his eyes widen. I mouth ‘Help me!’ to him and he rushes over. 

“Hey Pen, how about you go dance with Morgan!” He says ushering her to him. 

“Oo! Yes!” She says quick walking to Derek. 

“Thank you Spencer you really saved me out there.” I say laughing while drinking a martini. 

“Yep it was a no problem,” Spencer says with a light chuckle taking a sip of his drink. 

“How many drinks has she had?” I whisper to him. 

“Too many obviously.” He says laughing. 

“True, true.” I say poking his shoulder. “Bartender! Give me 3 rounds of shots for me and my hot boyfriend!” I yell while moving around my hand. He then laughs and shakes his head. We get our shots and I down the, creating a burning sensation in my mouth and throat. He gags and then we laugh a little. I order a beer and then say, “Let’s go dance!” He then has a worried look on his face as we go into the crowd. 

I pull Spence to me by his tie and I start swaying my hips to the music. He looks around, a bit uncomfortable, then he looks down at me and puts his hands on my waist. I turn around and start to grind my ass on his crotch as I take a swig of my beer. I feel him put his hands on my hips and move me around with a swave of confidence. I look behind me and I can tell he is enjoying it. And I can feel it too. If you know what I mean.

We finish dancing and we head to the bar to do more shots with the team. We do 4 rounds of shots and that’s when I know I am drunk. Like uberrrr drunk. I turn to Spencer and I say,

“Did you know over the last century, ‘Micheal’ has been the most popular baby name 44 times?” I say I sound  so smart and surprised at myself. 

“U-um Yeah! Wow!” he says looking confused then fact checking it in his head and him knowing I’m right. I smile at him a bit and then say, 

“Tu es si beau mon amour.” smiling at him he looks shocked, then confused, 

“Y- Y/N I know you can speak Spanish bu- but French too?” Does anyone else know that you speak French?” He says whisper yelling. 

“Hehe nooo! It’s a secret!” I whisper at him poking his shoulder. Then I start bursting out laughing for no reason and putting my finger to my lips shushing. “Also, did you know the average American eats around 13 pounds of ice cream a year!” I say, sounding so shocked. HE looks at me with the weirdest face. 

“H-how do you know all of this?” He asks, chuckling, but being confused. 

“Cause I’m super smart like you!” I say pointing poking his forehead and mine. I start laughing so hard I snort. “I’m tired babyyy. I wanna go home!” I say leaning on him putting my head in the crook of his neck. I put my hand on his chest and started whining. 

“Guys I’m going to take Y/N home she's tired.” Spencer says to everyone.

“Ok bye!” everyone says to us 

“ByEe!” I say changing my voice tones. We walk outside to the car and when we get in I spill more facts. 

“Did you also know that fewer than a quarter of adults follow the U.S. guidelines for physical activity? Also, nearly half of American adults will experience a mental illness in their lifetime?” I keep rambling facts all the way home, up the stairs, into Spencer's apartment, and into bed.  

“I still can’t believe you can speak French and know all of those facts.” Spencer says while playing with my hair as I lay on my chest. 

“You will find out a lot about me handsome.” I say patting his chest. “Goodnight Spence.” I say. 

“Goodnight my lady genius.”Spencer says, pulling me close.

[honeypirate]

Pancakes for dinner pt two

Aizawa x y/n

Part one part three will be the last.

CW: talks of murder and swearing

I really fucked up the times but I’m not gonna fix it.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Aizawa’s POV

“Finally” he says, relief flooding his chest as your name lights up his phone screen. It’s been weeks since you’ve spoken. “Y/n” he says when he answers and you laugh “hey Shouta you sound like you missed me” god he loves your laugh, and of course he misses you! Every second of every day. But he doesn’t want to interrupt your time with your man or school and then there’s the time difference. It’s probably five pm there since. “I always miss you y/n. How are you?” He leans back in his chair at his desk “I’m alright, I just missed your voice and I wanted to talk” his heart skips and he grimaces at the reaction.

For years he’s tried to stop loving you. He knows you only think of him as a brother, he wouldn’t ever bring it up to you. He will respect your feelings. He just wishes his body and heart would respect him.

“I had to stop what I was doing and go out to the field to stop them from fucking fighting, but All Might is there when I leave the building. Turns out the fight was his fault because he neglected Bakugou and favored Deku” he has one hand behind his head and his feet up on his desk catching you up on his life “but you still gave them punishment for fighting right? Suspension and garbage duty for the dorm?” Your voice was amused and he could hear your smile through the phone. “Yeah I did” he laughs “that exact punishment. How did you know?” “Because I know you Shouta” you say with a laugh and he blushes and then cursed himself Internally. “So how’s what’s her face?” He resisted the urge to groan.

He was dating some girl he met at the grocery store for a few months. Trying to get rid of his feelings for you. But it didn’t work. He still had his feelings for you, he still cared about you more than anything and anyone else.

“I don’t know” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose. Her voice was too calm when she answered, he noticed “why wouldn’t you know? You’re dating her” he debates weather or not to just tell you the truth right now. Get it off his chest. But he remembers your real feelings and after a few seconds he sighs “I broke up with her a few weeks ago” he says gruff with his palm over his eyes “why?” He barely heard your voice. His heart is beating quickly “I realized that she wasn’t the one for me and I didn’t want to string her along” “huh”

After a pause he hears you quietly whisper “Hey Aizawa?” He sets his feet on the ground and leans forward “Hmmm?” “I broke up with him a couple months ago. He was cheating on me” he has half a mind to fly straight there and fucking murder the kid. Just kill him and dump his body in the river. After he calms himself down he let about the breath he was holding and says “oh. . . Y/n why didn’t you tell me?” He’s a little sad because maybe you were growing away from him. He hears a little bit of sadness in your voice when you respond “I didn’t want to worry you or take any time from your girlfriend” his ex girlfriend. If only you knew how much he loved you, he can’t help but sadly laugh “you know that you’re more important to me than anyone. Y/n! Come on” he admits in a whisper “That’s why I broke up with her”

“can I ask you something?” Your voice was quiet, it immediately worried him “Sure...” “how come you never asked me out in the beginning? That week after I met you I almost thought you liked me for a second” he hears the nervousness in your laugh. “Don’t you see me as a brother?” His voice was gruff although he was trying hard to just sound normal. You laugh and it catches him off guard when you say “what?! No!. What made you think that?.” But I heard her, she said it. He sighed “I heard you on the phone once with your sister. You were laughing and you said in a horrified voice how you only see him as a brother and anything more grossed you out” this time your laugh was loud as well as your voice “Shouta Aizawa! No! That conversation was about Zashi!” His phone almost drops from his hand. Hizashi. She was talking about hizashi. And he wasted years of love thinking you’d never love him. What a fucking idiot. I am such a Fucking idiot he laughs loud

“oh” he says quietly, he was freaking out if he was being honest and you laugh ““y/n, I ...” he starts but stops when he hears you say at the same time “Aizawa, I ..” he smiles but hears your laugh cut out and someone on the other side yelling by your roommate. “I have to go. The dorms are being attacked. We will finish this conversation after we’re done and everyone’s safe.” He’s sitting up straight now, nervous for you “Y/n! Be careful. I know you’re strong. I believe in you!” He tries to send you his energy through the phones “Thank you. Talk to you soon” and you hang up. He tries to go back to work, he’s doing paperwork during his free time between classes and lunch but he can’t help but he worried for you and constantly checking his phone.

When you call again half an hour later you’re yelling as soon as he presses answer, it makes him laugh before he realizes it means you got hurt. You only ever get crazy energy when you get hurt fighting. “Shouta! The kids are fine! I’ll be fine as well once the stitches are done” there we are he hates when you’re hurt. It’s the worst for him. Your laugh was awkward before you spoke again “I’m coming home! I got a plane ticket. I have the next couple weeks off because of this attack and I need to see you. It’s been too long. And.. I .. I think that I should probably tell you this now, in case there is an accident and I never see you again. I think it’s time to be brave!” He laughs worriedly. You’re coming home? Youre worried about a plane crash?“youre coming home? What’s going on?” Your voice was wild as you continued “I don't wanna say something wrong or be weird so if this comes out wrong let’s just forget about it. And if you're still in love with her then we will just pretend that I didn’t say anything. Two years away from you has felt like forever. I tried to find the right time to tell you but it never happened. I chickened out. Like the time I asked how was fall semester? I wanted to tell you how much I loved talking to you every single night. And that conversation we had about your favorite band? Spur of the moment because what I really wanted was to tell you how much I missed hugging you.” In love with her? What is she talking about? What is she gonna say wrong? He’s standing up at his desk now, his heart rate quick “Y/n take a breath and tell me what you’re trying so hard to tell me” hes trying to stay calm he hears you take a deep breath “okay. Here it goes. Ill tell you. Shouta. I’m gonna say it” He laughs. He knows you so well. You’re nervous “stop stalling” he keeps his voice calm. You laugh and then speak the clearest thing he’s heard from you yet “I’m coming home for a couple weeks, if the plane happens to crash tonight and I never get to see you again I’d want you to know that I am in ..”

“IN WHAT?? IN WHAT Y/N?!” He’s yelling in his phone now, yours must have died. At the complete wrong time “FUCK!” He starts to pace and tries to call you back a couple times just getting your machine. He stops and takes a deep breath. “Calm down. She’ll call you back” she’ll say what she meant. She’ll say she’s in trouble. She is in a choir group maybe. Maybe she’s in need of some R and R. Or she’ll say she’s in love with me. God I hope that’s the one. Fuck here’s my next class

When he checks his phone at three, he curses under his breath. Of course he missed her call he was teaching. Fucking 17 hour time difference.

He puts his phone to his ear to listen.

“I’m sorry. My phone died and I don’t have much time before I get on the plane” his heart races as he hears you running through the airport in the background , he turns towards the window in his class room plugging his other ear “my phone is going to die again so I’ll be quick. I’ve been in love you with for as long as I can remember.” He stops breathing. that’s it. His wish. His biggest dream. The message continues “I didn’t realize until I left you. My plane gets there in 13 hours if you feel the same pick me up. If you don’t then I’ll go back right away and we can pretend this never...” the message ends and he asumes your phone died again. Okay. He thinks okay. 13 from the time she called at 12:30pm. That makes it 1:30 am. He has so much to do until then.

[tylerwritez]

Tuesday, june 22 2021

I've noticed I'm getting "the shiverys" or "the twitchy" a lot today. Like every time I FEEL something I take a moment to violently tic.... every time I think about certain things I tic.... good things, bad things, things from an hour ago and things from years ago. Tic, tic, tic.

Also, I have... some stuff to explain. Its really no big deal, but you know me: I'll freak out about it anyway. Basically I dissed my friend (rightfully so) around the time that we had just met cos they did something that threw me off.

He saw it in my phone... NOW. it's not RELEVANT anymore and I've since redacted that criticism...and now I gotta explain it to him anwyays. Oh well. I'm good at this stuff. I can get myself outta any situation. I dont even know why I'm talking like this tho... it's not a "Situation" it's just smthn I gotta explain rq.

Oh, today's song recommendation is Spirit Crusher by Death. I'm a huge Death fan...

Also! I gotta study... for my replacement exam. How stressful. Its about photosynthesis, but like, it's not simple. We went DEEP inside those fucking leaves.

One sec, lemme hook up my IV tube

Not an ACTUAL IV tube... just my headphones. But since I'm so #emo, it might as well be a fucking IV tube with the way that I cant live without it.

Its 3:08 and I'm walking home now. I was upset last night but me and Star have made up now lol... it was thAt easy. I'm so defective, making shit hard when it doesnt need to be.

It's so hot out damn. Idk. I had school today, so I had Bio class... I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION for once. I had lunch with Star and her friend group, and I honestly kinda feel like they're MY friends now too, even just a little bit.

Actually, I used to rant about feeling lonely like all the time but now I have so many friends it's crazy they all keep inviting me places and it's like people WANT ME AROUND... idk. It makes me happy.

Today I gotta ask if tommroow after school I can go to Bee's house to watch Supernatural (famous homoerotic ghost show)

I should also add songs to Erin's spotify playlist for our picnic saturday which I still need permission to go to.

I gotta ask for Wednesday after school to watch Insidious with Jay  which is apparently really good

Also hes the friend that I gotta explain stuff to... the DrAmA... the ThEaTrE....

Update my dad said yes to hanging out with Bee but first I'm gonna miss school to fix my broken brackets on my braces

Also turns out the house I THOUGHT we were moving into has substantial damage from shifting so... we aRENT moving there.

In case you didn't know, shifting is when like the house that's been built literally SHIFTS like it moves around.

Anwyays Jay just texted me... I'm gonna change into shorts since it's hot, set up my study area,.... and respond to him.

The time is 3:22 p.m.

Wish me. Luck.

Luck is plentiful! As it so often is in my risky, risky life.

I play my cards right. It's a learnt skill.

But also there wasnt much to explain since it passed already and was tiny anywyas.

XD so I've made up with the whole goddamn world by now.

Its 6:31, we saw 1 house. Only one. Its kinda hot out but I'm gonna bike now since we just had supper. I finally finished my homework... I just have to finish one mixed media piece as my final project for art!

Friday is my replacement. On photosynthesis and cell resp. We know this. But what I didn't mention, or I dont THINK I did, is that if I finish my art project before then I have the second block FREE!!! Me, Star, and her friend

A are planning to leave for second block and maybe get mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Also I might eat her out XD

Anyways idk. I hope I can bike tonight to call Jay.

I keep accidentally using people's real names here then having to correct it... I dont know how much i care about MY identity being discovered... but to have my friends doxxed would suck.

Man I feel bad abt saying fuck star last night cos we made up....

Wait we r looking at another house? Idk I'm in the car still waiting to go home

Oh wait no now we r goin home

Its 6:39... I hope I still have time.

I went biking, called Jay. Went home. Idk, friendly conversation... we talked more tonight and I also talked to my other friend A. Jay is... I LOVE HIM?? SO MUCH??? I feel so happy. Talking to him thinking about him seeing his STUPID FUCKING FACE JESUS. his eyes alone... I could stare at his face all day probably. I want to kiss him... hOLD HIS HAND... omg... huG HIM!!! Eofjwpxjwie he's so sweet like I can't even... and I'm proabably not good enough for him like. Wtf. Hes easily a 10. And I dont rate things outta 10. How tf do I end up with HIM? Doing stuff, as friends. Like wHAT. I guess I got lucky XD. He says he loves my personality and I'm hot XD ofc I dont see it myself. But like. JESUS CHRIST he could proabably easily pull whOever. XD me?

Whatever though. As long as we r together and stuff. I LOVE HIM A LOT. he said he loved me. Every time he says that it makes me so overly happy.

Maybe I'm just sappy and stuff.... whatever. I think it would be nice to be hugged by him.

Yeah I'm cheesy.

I'm sorta tired now so maybe I'm not writing the best.

I just keep thinkinf about love. Love is a muscle of evil suggestion. But how evil can it really be? I am just a human being and that is all. Everything else is applied. I am just a human being with soemthing in my heart that pulls me all over the place. Love is this strange thing because I'm fucked up and to be able to love without that fucked up part of me, without the damage... is this complicated, hard thing to do and I can NEVER tell if I'm doing it right but I know I'm DOING IT. I know I FEEL LOVE. And soemtimes it's such an intense thing like when you go to surf on a wave at the beach with ur belly but u hit it wrong and it's so big and overwhelming it washes over you and PULLS you down to the bottom and smushes your face into the sand and YOU CANT BREATHE jesus Christ it's like that.

Or maybe I just want to experience love as it should be felt.

Obviously all of my problems surrounding this Damage could be easily fixed if I went to therapy but. there are reasons I can't.

I LOVE a lot. Too much for my own good. Enough to hurt me, get me into trouble, etc etc but also... enough to liberate me. I LOVE. I love Jay. So much. LIKE. MY BRAIN ORBITS AROUND HIM CONSTANTLY THINKING OF HIM AND PRAISING HIM AND MWUAH HE IS SO LOVELY I BOW BEFORE HIM...

I think as much as I love, a lot of the times I tend to focus even more on BEING loved.

If I am told I am loved, and shOwN I am loved... it is one of the most powerful things. Especially since I was literally emotionally neglected in childhood... yeah. I feel like I'm always trying to fill that hole.

Not EVERY feeling I have is for that reaosn but sometimes, if you tell me you love me, show me you love me, hug me,... I'll like start crying,,, that's the childhood emotional neglect kicking in. If you call me #smol and #cute and say I look young and fragile which happens more often than you'd think XD, I know I'm not supposed to like that shit, so I act like I dont....but I do. Which is PROBABLY ALSO THE CEN 🤪  like whatever lol

Anwyays I'm fucked up

You see how quickly things become complicated in my mind?

Convoluted? Is that the word?

Whatever. I OVERCOMPLICATE THINGS COS I OVERTHINK THEM BECAUSE I'm LITERALLY MENTALLY ILL IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. I'm not joking. I obviously have unresolved undiagnosed "issues"

I do Suspect things, though.

I can make a list

Maybe I shouldn't.

Maybe I will.

I shouldnt.

Whatever.

I used to hate when people brought up my self harm. I would actually panic. I still self harm but now? Now I'm fine with anyone  talking about it as long as it's not an adult who can get me into trouble/force me into therapy over it. Because really? I kinda like having it mentioned. It's kinda validating and it's like hey... people can see that I'm sick.

I dont do it so people talk to me about it though. Dont get me wrong. If I did, I'd go vertically on the arms, not for suicide but so it healed and people would ask XD.

My scars are actually VERY hidden... cos I never intended for ANYONE to see. But for those who DO see them,,,, it's nice soemtimes to have people express concern.

I dont wanna be PITIED or anything, but idk I just think to myself "wow, they're CONCERNED... about ME... they arent angry or mean... they didnt yell at me or threaten me... they respect my autonomy and privacy...

And they CARE ABOUT ME..." and it makes me cry.

That's also the CEN.

I dont know. I just like when people express genuine concern. Even if they see and then just ask if I'm okay. That's all it takes cos then I go wow.

Its validating and irs lovely because finally people care... FINALLY PEOPLE CARE. FINALLY I GET SOME EMPATHY OR SYMPATHY AND NO ANGER.

Even just having them brought up tells me its noticeable enough

My brain does this thing where it thinks nothing bad that's ever happened to me was Bad Enough for me to be upset about.

And I dont know... its nice sometimes to be told shit like "omg that looks so bad" or to see that people who do see my cuts are somewhat shocked or revolted... it's nice because I go... "hey, it was bad enough for them..."

Or to have people comment on them with concern. Just ANYTHINT WHERE PEOPLE NOTICE IT AND ARENT ASSHOLES ABOUT IT IS VALIDATING.

Because I'm not used to that...

Because CEN

I'm. The worst perosn on the fucking planet.

I should kill myself.

I suddenly actually feel so self hating I do want to kill myself... oh god.

I ruin everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. What have I done. Like. Why. Oh god.

I'm just remembering when Star said my kindness seemed like an act. And how I've been called out for seeming fake like 2 other times.

DO I SEEM FAKE???? I DONT EVER PUT ON ACTS OF KINDESS.... CONCIOUSLY? but the very idea that I could be perceived that way...

Should I like not try to be nice or some shit?

Jesus christ she hurts my feelings even now when it was a long time ago.

But I cant blame her. I can't blame anyone for how i feel except my parents because they left me with fucking. Heart nerve damage or some shit.

I'm tired and now I'm sad too. Goodnight guys.

[softstraykidsimagines]

Variety show

Summary: You and Jeongin, by some happy (or not?) coincidence, ended up on the same variety show, but could you both keep your relationship a secret with prying questions?

Requested: yes

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, idol AU

Word count: 3.5k words

Warnings: written at 11pm, so probs sometimes weird sounding and im too tired to check

A/N: 1) don’t even ask me abt the group name idek what i was thinking. 2) DAmn sON i didn’t mean to make it this long. 3) fun fact: at first this was gonna be a comedic bulletpoint story, then i changed it to a feeble emotional roller coaster (i really do mean feeble af). 4) i hope you like it <33

MASTERLIST

“Please welcome our wonderful guests, Five Times Brighter!!!”, called the MC, followed by the cheers from the audience. One by one your group members and yourself filed out onto the small stage to greet the crowd. You were quickly ushered into a seat, where you could witness the sheer amount of people who had come to watch, obscured slightly by the blinding glare of the stage lights.

You felt your throat tighten. This better work out, you thought, feeling ill at ease by knowing there must have been at least ten cameras pointed at you and your comrades. What would we do if anyone found out? You shook your head violently with a pout. Stop it. Nothing’s gonna happen. You’re overreacting...

You were jolted out of your thoughts by the voice of the MC as he raised his voice again. “And now please welcome the rookie legends themselves! The great award winners, Stray Kids!!!” The room erupted into screams of fans as the nine handsome boys jogged out from backstage.

Your stomach did an uncomfortable somersault. Don’t make eye contact! If you do, someone will definitely notice!! Then you’re finished!!! You mentally slapped yourself and took a deep breath. You then realized that you’d placed your index and middle finger against your throat, an uncanny imitation of Felix taking his pulse as he became nervous. You’d somehow picked up the habit from the cute Aussie boy as you hung out with him at the same time as Jeongin. With a gulp, you slammed your hand back onto your lap and stared unemotionally at the boys as they sat on the other couch across from you from the MC’s center chair.

When everyone had sat down, the room went annoyingly quiet. You swallowed back anger as you waited for the MC to ask something and distract you. Finally:

“First, I’d like to ask both groups if they could tell us what inspired certain songs in their album”. Some applause followed as you forced your muscles to relax. “Should we ask FTB first?” The crowd cheered.

Your smile started becoming a little more genuine. Nothing bad, just a mindless answer to your average question. The ‘What inspired you to write X’ question was always a default for some reason. But at least it was eas-

“Y/n!” The blood drained from your face at your name. Oh... oh no... “A little birdie told me”, the MC said cheekily, “that you wrote one of the most successful songs on the album. ‘Winged love’, wasn’t it?”

You started to loath the MC, or whoever had decided that that specific question would be a good one. It’s true, you had written and composed the song, but your inspiration was exactly what you wanted to avoid, as your mind flashed to moment you got the idea for the lyrics.

~~~~~~~~~

“Try to pick your feet up a bit more here”, you said, poking Jeongin’s leg as he posed awkwardly in front of the practice room mirror. He groaned in retaliation, muscles trembling from exhaustion.

“I can’t do it”, he whined. “It’s useless. Just go on without me and practice on your own. You’ll do so much better without me dragging you down”.

You scoffed without any amusement. “Like Hell I will. I’m staying right here until you can get this. I said I’d help, so I’m helping”. He gave you a pitiful look, and you smiled softly. “Let’s take a break, then. I’ve got biscuits!”

“I don’t usually eat at this hour”, Jeongin said hesitantly.

“You don’t usually practice at this hour”, you answered matter-of-factually. You didn’t wait for an answer and dragged your boyfriend down to the floor, rolling to your side and grabbing a huge packet full of snacks and tearing it open mercilessly. You offered one to the boy in front of you, who conceded with a sigh. “Cheers!” You knocked your biscuit against his, making a couple of crumbs fall to the ground, and shoved the entire thing into your mouth. Jeongin stared at you until you made a face, cookie still lodged between your cheeks, making him burst into laughter. You fought not to spit your snack out as you sniggered with him.

“How do you do that”, he asked.

“Mmmfmm ru wha”, you said, still trying to down your food.

“Always find a way to make me feel so much better, no matter how battered I feel”, he said, mesmerized. You stared at him uselessly, so he continued. “When I’ve been at my worst, or when I’ve felt like giving up, you’ve been there to pick me up. You’re like my pair of wings”. You stayed quiet, scared to knock him out of his reverie. He smiled faintly. “At this point, I could jump off a mountain, trusting you to catch me if you said you would. And I always feel safe with you. No matter what scares me, I feel better when you’re next to me, as if you’ve become a hypothetical shield. And I want to be the same, I want to always be there for you, whenever you’re feeling down, I want to be the first person you think of going to”. He suddenly curled his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. “That was so cringey I’m sorry”.

You giggled softly and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s a little cliche, I admit. But it’s the best kind of cliche. Because I feel the same way”. You lifted your head kissed his cheek. “I’ll always be right here. And I’ll always trust you to be there too”.

~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes came back into focus, as your mind started racing, scrounging for a decent story that could convince the public that it had nothing to do with the very boy who was sitting only five feet from you.

“Uh-uhhh”, your mind became completely blank. “My... One of my old friends”. You cleared your throat. “Whenever she was upset, I would want to do anything to make her feel better. And I did do some pretty stupid things”. You smiled sheepishly at the pitch black half of the room where the fans giggled in reaction to your stutter. Your confidence grew as you continued: “The lyrics represent what I wanted to be to her. I wanted her to feel as if she could trust me with anything at all. As if I could always pick her up if she felt low”. You finished and prayed that it was enough.

The MC nodded, thoughtful. “So she never said the things in the lyrics out loud?”

You shook your head. “She wasn’t the most extroverted person”, you answered. “But I hope that that’s how she felt”. At that, everyone seemed satisfied and applauded. You bobbed your head, looking back at your clenched fists in your lap. I’ve gotta be more careful. One slip-up and I’m in deep-

“How about our favorite maknae”, the MC laughed, turning to SKZ. Your pulse went sky-high again.

-shit.

Jeongin let his eyes go wide, and pointed at himself. “Na?” He asked in an innocent voice. Despite your nerves going crazy, you managed to chuckled along with everyone else at the cute act.

The MC wasn’t an exception, though he quickly regained his posture. “Yes, I believe it was you who wrote the song ‘Midnight Walk’, am I correct?”

The boy nodded with a bright smile. “That’s right! And the first ever song where I wrote one hundred percent of the lyrics!!” He glowed with pride, and a secret burst of happiness for him shot through you. You could still remember when he’d told you about his accomplished goal.

~~~~~~~~~

You swung your hand, latched onto Jeongin’s, back and forth as you both strolled down an empty trail that ran along the Han River. “So?”, you prompted.

He looked back at you. “What?” He was playing innocent. Of course he was. You giggled and started swinging your connected hands even more, feeling blood rush through your slightly chilled fingers. Without speaking, you both started skipping forward, bumping each other and giggling like children. You loved that. That you could both move in sync without having to communicate. This continued until you pulled him to a stop.

“Okay, now actually tell me. What did you wanna say earlier. You looked as if you were about to explode with excitement”.

Jeongin grinned happily. “I...” he spoke excruciatingly slowly. “...have written.... my own song! And it’s gonna be on the next album!!!!!” At this, he picked you up and spun you around, until you felt too dizzy to stand on your own.

You laughed with him, and leaned on him. “Jeonginie, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you”. You kept clinging onto him. “What’s it called?”

“I haven’t decided yet”, he confessed. He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think I could name it after a fun memory with you? Without being too obvious, that is”.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think you could get away with it”.

And so he grinned broadly. “Okay, then. How about I call it midnight walk, after tonight?”

“Why tonight of all things? We’re just walking”, you asked incredulously.

“Because the simplest memories with you are the best”, he answered, squealing a bit at the overly sweet phrase.

You laughed. “Alright then. Are you allowed to spoil a few lyrics for me?”

“Of course”, said Jeongin, hoisting you up so that he was half carrying you. “It’s my song after all”. His voice went up a notch with happiness. “A few lines feel a bit random, without context; but just remember that I thought of you while writing them”. You hugged his arm until you thought you might be cutting his circulation. As you both kept walking, you slowly regained your balance and he listed a few lines from his oeuvre. That was the best walk at 1:30am you’d ever had.

~~~~~~~~~

Jeongin was still beaming at the MC, who began fanning himself dramatically. “His smile is so blinding”, he called, and there came calls of agreement from the audience. “But you still haven’t answered”. The room went silent again. “What inspired you to write the lyrics of ‘Midnight Walk’?”

Jeongin gave another dazzling smile. “It was a lot of different things; it took months of me scribbling down random ideas to be able to form something logical”.

The MC nodded again. “Of course, the lyrics do vary a lot. But I think we’re more interested in the more romantic sounding ones in the song”. The crowd ooh-ed, as if confirming the statement.

Your boyfriend grinned once more. “Well, those specific lines are dedicated to someone very special in my life”.

NO! You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from yelling aloud. He knew about the warnings, as well as you.

~~~~~~~~~

“Both Stray Kids and Five Times Brighter Will be on a variety show on the second weekend of the month”, stated one of your managers, standing next to JYP himself. Everyone nodded together as the schedule was recited in its entirety. It was all standard, except for the fact that the two groups had never been on a same show.

As the schedule came to its end, both groups dispersed to continue practice, but JYP called Jeongin and yourself aside. “I’d like to specify something”, he said in a tone that let you know that nothing good was coming. “When you’re both on that variety show in the middle of the month, I don’t even want you two to make eye contact. We don’t want anyone knowing about your relationship. I’m warning you now, keep it under wraps, and there won’t be any problems”.

You and Jeongin nodded, eyes round. As JYP finally walked away, you turned to your boyfriend. “Why the Hell does he want us to stay a secret?”, you failed terribly at keeping the anger out of your voice. “You’re allowed to be dating by now, so am I. No one needs to know that we started going out before my ban was up. So what’s his problem?”

Jeongin pulled you against him. “I don’t know, but let’s just do as he said. I don’t wanna think about what could happen if something goes wrong”. You eventually agreed, still grudging.

“It’s still unfair that we have to hide when we’re so happy”.

~~~~~~~~~

The memory raged in your mind, nearly as loud as the screams of shock that wracked the studio at Jeongin’s words. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, as he smiled calmly. Jeongin, what are you going??!!!!

“They’re dedicated to someone special in my life”. He had to raise his voice to make himself heard. “Whom I’ve not met yet”. There was a collective gasp at the strange turn in his statement. “One day, I want to be able to say those things to the love of my life, on a walk at one in the morning”.

Everyone aah-ed in understanding, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or kiss him, but at least no one suspected anything anymore. And he’d very secretly hinted at the walk when he shared the lyrics with you, in the dead of night. Your heart swelled with warmth and love for the boy.

“Look at y/n, they’re blushing!”, yelled the MC. You were so shocked that you yelled out as everyone shouted teasingly. The MC started laughing. “Are you thinking of anyone in particular, y/n? Anyone you’d like to take a midnight walk with?” Electricity filled the air.

None of your damn business, you thought hotly. But of course it was. Your entire life was not yours to control, but the public’s. You made a face as if you’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon, which incidentally seemed to be a pretty good answer for the public.

“Apparently, y/n isn’t at all interested in a relationship”, chuckled the MC. He quickly continued with a bunch of other standard questions, and you imagined the different ways you could smack him and still get away with it. Maybe I should throw a bucket of water at him, then he wouldn’t be so obnoxiously happy, you thought, in your own world.

You werre making eye-contact with Jeongin, and realized with a start that you’d been staring at him this entire time. You checked that no one had remarked, but the cameras were strained on Changbin as he complained about being woken up too harshly by Woojin, to the amusement of most. You quickly stole another look at your boyfriend but, almost too subtle to notice, he shook his head, looking a bit panicky. You immediately understood and glanced elsewhere, trying to act interested in some tangled cables by a stage light.

When the questions had dragged on long enough to make your feet go numb, it was finally time for a game before the show came to an end. You stood up gratefully, hobbling a bit to get to stage right. You craned your neck to see what game you were meant to play against Stray Kids, and with a crashing wave of horror, you realized that Pocky Stick packets were sitting on the tiny stool near the stage wings. You saw from the corner of your eye that Jeongin was looking as displeased about the idea as you, even though everyone else seemed almost thrilled.

This is nuts, you kept repeating to yourself. Either I’ll have to play with one of SKZ, WHO KNOW JEONGIN AND I ARE DATING, or I play against Jeongin and people realize that we seem too comfortable. It’s a lose lose situation oh shit oh shit oh sh-

“How about the desert-fox-maknae and y/n, who seems so keen to avoid a little kiss!”, yelled the MC, who was tantalizingly close enough for you to punch. You faced Jeongin, who had become unusually pale, and you fought back your own panic as you were passed a Pocky Stick.

Your stomach churned as you both stared at each other, sweat beading at the hairline. Someone gave your shoulder a push --you didn’t know who, and you couldn’t force yourself to care-- and you bit into you end of the stick. Jeongin bit the other end and cheers rose in the crowd, deafening you and making your eyes water.

You weren’t sure how long you both kept staring at each other, but in the seconds --it could’ve been hours-- that Jeongin’s eyes bore into yours, something seemed to click in his mind, and he clenched his jaw with determination. You nibbled a bit of the Pocky Stick and noise in the room went up. Slowly the gap between your lips became smaller and smaller until you were close enough for you to hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours, pounding in your ears.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your senses completely abandoning you. We must be less than a centimeter apart! And then you felt a firm hand clasp your wrist. Before you could understand what was happening, Jeongin’s lips smacked against yours. But not by accident. This was with decision, the Pocky Stick forgotten. From habit, you kissed him back, your ears ringing. As you pulled away, you realized it had been him who had grabbed your wrist, and he’d put a the other hand on your waist to pull you closer. The ringing in your ears was from the screams that came from the audience.

Panic rose up in you again as what had happened sank in. We kissed... on live TV!! Your heart was in your throat. What’s going to happen to us? Jeongin said something that never made it to your ears, but looked something like ‘trust me’. He turned to everyone watching, now in a confused frenzy at what they’d witnessed. “Y/n and I are dating”, he stated simply, which was followed by an enormous uproar. He continued in a yell. “We weren’t meant to say anything, but I think it’s unfair that we have to keep our happiness a secret, just for the satisfaction of the public. So now you know!!!” His last words were drowned out by more screams of shock and confusion as you were both pulled off and away from stage.

You had become light-headed, everything becoming an incoherent blur as your receded into your own chaotic thoughts. What’s gonna happen what will JYP do to us will we be kicked out of the company oh god what if I become the reason for Jeongin leaving Stray Kids I couldn’t live with myself--

In your daze, you were pushed into a small waiting room. “Wait here”, said a gruff voice. I’m going to pass out! The world is tilting to the left! And now the right... Left.... Right.... You leaned against a wall and looked at Jeongin, who stared back at you, expressionless. After a few seconds, you started violently trembling.

“What are we going to do”, you breathed, more to yourself than to your boyfriend. “They’ll hate us, they’ll kick us out of the company! Why did you do that?” You had no anger in your voice as you stared at Jeongin, just helplessness. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you tightly but with a little tremor.

“I don’t know”, he confessed, and you sniffled slightly. “But I thought of what you’d said when we were told to stay quiet. We shouldn’t have to hide, especially because we’re so happy. I think if JYP wants to kick us out, let him”.

“No, no, Jeongin!” You let out a panicked sob. “What about the other boys? You can’t leave them, not just for me! What ever happens, you can’t leave Stray Kids!”

You both stood there, holding onto each other tightly, for a long time. After what felt like hours, you both sat down on the shiny floor of the tiny room, still not letting go of each other’s hands. You had calmed down now, and just sat quietly. Suddenly, Jeongin sat up and grabbed his phone. “What are you doing”, you asked, your voice slurred and muffled from exhaustion.

“The show was a live broadcast wasn’t it”, asked Jeongin. “And because it’s the evening, most of the world will have been awake. Which means...” He tapped the Twitter icon and the app came to life. He immediately went to the Trending page, and with a gasp, you saw #JeonginAndY/nDating on the second most popular tag.

“Oh my God”, you breathed. You didn’t think the effect would be so big. Before you could stop him, Jeongin tapped on the tag. You yelped and looked away, not wanting to see any of the awful comments people had made.

“Y/n...” Jeongin’s voice was laced with shock.

“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me it’s bad”, you say in despair.

“It’s... Everyone’s congratulating us!” Your eyes snapped open, and you swung your head around to glare at the bright screen. Thousands upon thousands of tweets had the trending hashtag, with people voicing their wishes of happiness for you as a couple, in English, Korean, you saw Spanish and french and Japanese. Message after message flashed by as Jeongin scrolled downwards. He started laughing; softly at first, then loudly, like a child how had received a special gift for Christmas. “They’re happy for us! Y/n they’re happy for us!!” He hugged you tightly as you laughed with him, more out of relief and exhaustion than anything else.

After a few more minutes, spent with you both bent over the phone and reading all the happy tweets, one of the staff came in to let you know that JYP was on his way to talk. “He didn’t sound as angry as we expected though, if that makes you feel a little better”, he said sympathetically. You thanked him as he wished you both luck and closed the door. And you turned back to Jeongin.

“You know... I don’t want to jinx it but... maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought”, you said apprehensively.

The boy hugged you tightly. “Well, no matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other. Right?”

You smiled, thinking of ‘Midnight Walk’ and ‘Winged Love’. “Right”. You felt warm, think about the lyrics you’d both written, saying you’d never leave the love of your life.

Because it was true.

im sorry idek what the ending is anymore but eh this was the third draft soooo...

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

PROMPT GAME #1

Totally unedited and I have to cut the storyline a little short, because well, its supposed to be a drabble. Ahahah ❤ and I decided to combine all promts you requested into one.

"Seriously Jeon? You have fucked everyone else and now you are finding girls in my home?" Y/N sighed and walked passed the shirtless male, grinnibg with his mouth full of cereal. Her cereal, in her house, using her bowl.

"Not my fault your roomate is hot," he winks, totally shameless about the fact that he and her so called roomate keep the whole house, specifically her, since shes the only other person in there anyway, awake all night, with their disgusting activities. Endless activities. "Cereal?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and grab the half eaten bowl and throw in the sink.

"No thanks, and thanks for offering, since that is my cereal in the first place. Now that you have disgraced this house, would you please get out so I can comfort my roomate when she realizes what an asshole you are and what a mistake she made?"

"Aww, come on Y/N why so grumpy? Someone not getting any?" Jungkook smirk, slipping on his shirt, thank god. He might be an asshole, but hes an asshole with a bod! And its hard to be snarky with his hard pecs staring back at her.

"Ive been getting plenty on my own, thanks," Y/N rolles her eyes again. "And I rather be dead than being with you in the same bed Jeon,"

"Oh come on Y/N, I know you wish I want you. Hey, maybe I do. Wanna gove it a try?" He winks, taunting her.

"Just get the fuck out Jeon," Y/N open the door and crossed her arms, waiting for Jungkook to walk himself out.

"Okay, okay, no need to be so hostile," he laughs and walks out. "See you babe. Just call me if you change your mind, I'll make time for you," he laughs before the door slammed at his back.

The rivalry between Y/N and Jungkook started so long ago that even Y/N cant remember how it even started or if its even relevant anymore. But what she knows is that she hates that fuckboy's guts. Walking around like he owbs the damn campus. Well, maybe it started whe Jungkook pull her braids at the playground when they were 5 or maybe it didnt. It doesnt matter anyway. What natters is that Y/N hates him.

Whole heartedly.

/////

"Ouch!" Y/N turns around as her hand hit a solid rock. A rock that makes a sound. Wait, what rock?

Theres an intruder in her bed!

Y/N freaks out and immediately sits up, a massive headache attacking her head like sharp needles before she takes in her surrounding.

This is not my room.

And I am definitely not alone.

Not just not alone... Y/N turns her head slowly and nervously to the side and screamed out when she sees Jungkook rubbing his head, evidence of being hit by her hand earlier, naked, only with a blanket covering his bottom half.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Geez woman, stop shouting. Its like too early for this," Jungkook rubs his eyes and yawns, totally unbothered by the fact that they are in bed together and naked.

"Get out! What are you doing in my bed?! What did you do to me?" Y/n starts hitting him.

"Yah! Stop it!" Jungkook catches her hands and hold it tight. "First of all, this is my bed. So the question you should ask is, what are you doing in my bed?" Jungkook smirked. "And second, you dont remember?"

"Remember what? What did you do to me?! I couldnt have done this on my own free will! Never!"

"Oh sweetheart, think it long and hard and maybe you will remember," he grins and lays back on the headboard, totally relax.

Y//N scrunched her nose, trying to remember, and slowly everything came back to her.

"I cant believe I missed the dateline for my Math project!" Y/N wailed to her friend. "Im so stressed oit. Urghhh!"

"Then I have good news my friend. Theres a party happening tonight, and I heard its gonna be big. Everyone is invited,"

"Then I'm in!"

"Wow, you are really stressed out. Nerdy Y/N saying yes to a party without hesitation? Amazing,"

/////

"Wow, never seen you at a party before," Jungkook grins towards Y/N as he sits on the kitchen counter of the packed house, a bottle of beer in his hand. "This is usually my forte,"

"Pissed off Jeon. Why are you everywhere," Y/N slurred, losing balance and almost fell if Jungkook didnt catch her.

"And definitely never seen you this drunk before," Jungkook helped to steady her. "Actually, I have never ever seen you drink, at all. Are you alone? Who did you come with?" Jungkook looked around, concerned etched on his face. "Lets just sober you up a little then I'll send you home okay?"

Jungkook held her shoulders and bring her upstairs, to his room. Its such luck that the party is being held at his frat house. His room is off limits to everyone, but this is an emergencu. Hes not going to leave Y/N downstairs to be taken advantage by all the guys at the party. He knows the guys. He is one of them. But he will never let anything happen to Y/N.

Not Y/N.

"Just lie down here. Ill take some water for you okay?" Jungkook places her on his bed, covering her with a blanket.

"Nooo, dont go," Y/N pulls him, making him fall on her and giggles. "Wow, you are so handsome," she traces his face with her fingers.

"You are definitely drunk Y/N," he laughs, he hinself a little tipsy.

"No, I am not. Hey Jeon... Why do I hate you again?" Y/N stares into his eyes, not letting her grip on him go.

"I-I dont know.." Jungkook whispered. He knows its wrong. Y/N is definitely drunk, and he himself is intoxicated. And they hate each other, dont they? Atleast thats what Y/N been telling him, but Jungkook hasnt been hating her for the longest time already. Its actually quite the opposite.

"Jungkook?"

"Y/N?"

And as Y/N pulls his face, connecting their lips together, the rest of the night is history.

/////

"Fucking. Hell..."

"So I take it you remember?" Jungkook grins.

"I was drunk! You took advantage of me!" Y/N screamed making Jungkook laughed. So dramatic.

"Me?! You are the one who make the first move! You took advantage of me! Besides, its not so bad. I made you feel good," he winks. "We both kinda win here,"

"Urghhh, shut up!" Y/N quickly stands up and collect her clothes which is strewn all over the room, hastily putting it on, all the while mumbling like crazy. "Not a word of this to anyone! Oh God, I cant believe this happened! I an serious Jeon, no word to anyone!"

Jungkook laugh and made a swear sign with his hand.

"I swear. I wont tell anyone. Although are you sure? I know you want to gloat on how good I made you feel," he laughs more.

"Shut the fuck up! Urghhhh," she threw a pillow to his head, missing him by an inch, making him laugh more as Y/N scurried away.

"Thanks for the night!"

"Fuck off!" Y/N screamed out and slammed the door, leaving Jungkook still laughing on the bed, mumbling to himself, smiling.

You are such a pain in my ass, it actually hurts to fucking love you Y/N. If only you knew how I feel.

/////

Eversince that fateful morning, it seems like Jungkook is everywhere. She cant seems to shake him away. Grinning, waving, annoying her...

Y/N never told anyone about that night of course. She doesnt want to be knows as another one of Jungkook's girls, or his latest victim. Jungkook is someone she despise and thats the extend of their relationship. And she would like to keep it that way.

But fate of course have another plan and her science teacher partnered her up with Jungkook, as part of the mentor - protege program hes trying. A good student oartnered up woth a less performing on, in hopes it could help each other. Worse, after weeks ignoring him and asking him to do his own thing, the class is assigned with a project, something Y/N could never run from. And that is how she is in the library, sitting beside a grinning Jungkook.

"We are finishing this project as fast as we can and thats it,"

"Oh come on Y/N. Cant we atleast be friends?" Jungkook grins, teasing her. "Afterall, you have seen me nak-"

"Shut up!" Y/N quickly covers his mouth. "What are you trying to do? Telling everyone we hooked up? It was a drunken mistake okay!"

Jungkook laughs and mumble to himself. So cute.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didnt say anything," he smiles and shrugs.

"Look Jungkook, I'm serious okay? This marks are important to me. Lets just do thia properly and be serious about it. I will divide the work load so we can do it on our own time and we can meet uo eve-"

Y/N was cut off when his lips landed on her and he grins.

"What the hell did you just do?!" Y/M hissed, looking around to see if anybody noticed. "Didnt I tell you just now? You cant just go around kissing people! I mean, I know you are a manwhore but thats not how the rest of the human world works! Stop being a-"

Another kiss.

"Jeon Jungkook!"

"I only kissed you because you were talking too much," he smile, bunny teeth showing, chin olaces in the palm of his hand that is laced together, looking at her.

"I-uh..."

"See, it works. You are finally speechless," Jungkook smile got wider. "Lets get to work shall we?"

/////

The project did bring Jungkook and Y/N closer together. They can be now considered somewhat... friends?

"So.. do you still hate me?" Jungkook asks as they are having coffee together after submitting their final project.

"Well.. hate is a strong word Jeon," Y/N smile. "And I think I am getting used to you. But I still dont like you," she giggled.

"Well, I'll take that," Jungkook smile. "Uh.. hey.. do you want to go to the dance with me?" His voice laced with nervousness.

Y/N was surprised by his question. Is Jungkook asking her out?

"I-I mean, as friends? To celebrate our new friendship?"

"Whatt? Does the great Jeon Jungkook has no date for the dance?" She laughs.

"Hey, I spend all my time doing this project with you. I got your nerd aura all over me okay," Jungkook smile. "So will you?"

"Yeah," Y/N smiles. "Yeah, why not,"

/////

"Hey Minji, I have to meet up with my professor, kts a last minute thing. If Jungkook came can you tell him to wait? Please?" Y/N shouted to her roomate as she rushed to the door.

"Jungkook? Wait, you are going to the dance with Jungkook?" Minji raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah. He asked me. Wait, you are okay with that right? You said hes only a one night stand right?" Y/N stopped in her tracks.

"Of course. It was a mutual understanding. Im only surprised because I didnt know you two still hang out. And he never brings a date to a dance. And dont you hate him or something?" Minji questioned, hands crossed on her chest.

"Well, lets just say hes changed," Y/N smiles. "My phone is out of battery but I'll be back in a jiffy. Let Jungkook know ok? Thanks, love you!" Y/N waves off and went out.

Lets just see if Jungkook truly changed Y/N-ah. A fuckboy will forever be a fuckboy. And if you think a nerd like you can chabge him instead of someone like me, you are dead wrong. Minji smirks.

/////

"Oh hi Kookie, what are you doing here?" Minji gave him a sultry smile as she opened the door to see Jungkook looking dashing in a tuxedo, flowers in hand. He even get Y/N her favorite. How tentative. Minji rolled her eyes.

"Im here to pick up Y/N. For the dance?" Jungkook smile.

"Oh no," Minji puts a hand on her chest, brows furrowing in sadness. "I am sorry to hear that, but Y/N left,"

"Left? But I'm her date?"

"Kookie, I am so sorry. I dont know how to say this. But she was so happy she managed to tricked you. She said its some kind of revenge and that you are stupid to believe she would actually be friends let alone go to the dance with you?"

"W-what? N-no. Y/N couldnt... could she?" Jungkook's face pained as the clutch on the flowers loosen and drop to the floor.

"I am so sorry..." Minji carressed his face. "But hey.." he pulls him to the sofa and scoot closer. "I can make you feel better and forget about her,"

/////

Y/N almost ran home. Shes ao excited and she needs to get ready, to look good for Jungkook. She dont know why she have to, but she just wanted to. And shes late.

She happily pushed open her door, a wide smile on her face, which immediately dissapear once she is greeted with the image of Jungkook being balls deep inside her roommate, on the couch... in the middle of the fucking living room. He cant even find the decency to take ger to the room atleast? Knowing she lives here too?

"W-what?"

"Y/N?" Jungkook was shocked and immediately pull out, scouring for his boxers and slipped it on.

"What the hell?! You cant even wait for a few minutes without fucking anyone?!"

"You bailed! I thought you left. And what do you care? Arent I just some kind of revenge?" Jungkook smirked.

"What are you talking about?! Bail?!I was meeting my professor! I told Minji this. To tell you! And what revenge?!"

"Wait, what?" Realization suddenly hits him as he turns to face Minji who is smirking. "You lied? You bitch!"

"Hey, dont be mad at me. If you can just keep it in your pants this wont happen," she shrugs. "Y/N, I am just trying to show you that fuckboys will never change. Just one lie and hes already fucking someone else! How can you be wih him?"

"Shut the fuck up you lying manipularive bitch!" Jungkook yelled at her, trying to control his temper. But he knows Minji is not important right now. Y/N is. "Y/N listen to me, I can explain. Minji.. she said-"

"It doesnt matter Jungkook. Minji is right. Just one lie from her is all it needed for you to start sleeping with someone else?"

"Y/N, no. Its not like that. I was hurt. I was-"

"Save it Jeon," Jungkook stopped at the nickname. It felt so cold. He took a step forward, lurching for her arm but Y/N pull back immediately.

"Stop. Fucking. Touch. Me!" Y/N yelled. "Minji is right. Fuckboy never changed, get out Jeon,"

"Y/N-"

"Why should I care anyway right, we are just friends," Y/N angrily wipe her tears. "Maybe not even friends," she stormed off into the room, slamming the door, leaving Jungkook to pick up the pieces of broken heart.

/////

"Go away!"

"I am going to annoy you, follow you around until you talk to me. Until you forgive me. I dont care what it takes, or who knows how desperate I am!" Jungkook followed her around like a pupoy around campus for a whole three months now. Never once did he gives up. Y/N has finally had enough. The whole campus heard about how Jeon Jungkook, the campus player is now whipped and chasing some nerd. Y/N cant already tolerate the endless flowers, chocolates, gifts, texts and phonecalls that he sent everyday, but following her around, all day and all night? For three whole month? Its too much.

"Why wont you give up?! We were not even friends to begin with!"

"I am never giving you up. Ever!"

"Seriously. Why?! The fuck, why?!" Y/N has reached her limit, screaming in the middle of campus to the campus player, not caring to maintain her cool anymore.

"Fine, you wanna know so bad? Its because I fucking love you L/N Y/N! I have love you for so many years eventhough you hated me! And now that I have the chance to be in your life I am not gonna let some manipulating bitch ruined it for me! I want you and I am not gonna stop until I get you!" Jungkook's chest heaved from his confession. "Got your answer now?"

"N-no," Y/N shakes her head, eyes searching his. "It cant be. We hated each other!"

"I dont. I never did. I dont even know why you hate me? Ia it because I pulled your braids when we were 5?" Jungkook smiles. "That just means I like you Y/N. And I have never stopped since,"

"B-but all the girls you have been with? You are the campus player!"

"Its only to get you attention," he bunny grins. "I gor your attention when I slept with your roommate and I have stopped ever since Y/N. Please, believe me. I love you,"

"B-but-"

"Please Y/N," Jungkook kneeled down and hold her hands, in the middle of the busy campus. "I wont stop until you say yes. I will follow you. I will tell you everyday I love you. I will call you, text you, I wi-"

Y/N cuts him off by pulling him up, grinning, tears in her eyes.

"Serioualy Jeon, you are so annoying,just kiss me already," she grins, hands holding the back of his neck, making Jungkook smile with his bunny grin, love in his eyes.

"With pleaseure my love,"

[gremlinkween]

Bad Moon Rising

Part 2: Mermen, Vampires, and Werewovles, Oh My! 

Summary: The reader finds and rescues a hurt merman who tells her that his name is Jim. She helps him without a second thought, but his presence might attract the attention of other supernatural creatures she never knew existed. This will eventually be a foursome (Jim Mason x Michael Langdon x Duncan Shepard x Reader) mythology/supernatural au.

A/N: I'm not dead! Instead of just saying that I was gonna do something, I figured my welcome back post would be the next revised chapter of BMR as an apology. I had some repressed memories come up and they were repressed for a reason so that rocked my boat real hard, but hi everyone! I'll get to the asks sitting in the inbox hopefully tonight, but it might have to be tomorrow. So for the new readers, the last one of the foursome is introduced, but we’ll get to actually see more of Michael and Duncan in the next part. There is an oc in here, Rory, that we’ll see more later. I’ve had him for awhile and he’s actually one of my fave characters ever. You can totally imagine Cillian Murphy for him. Again, if you want to be on the tag list, just hit me up and let me know what you think!

Warnings: No smut yet, sorry. There is blood, injury, mentions of mental illness, depression, crying, concern about having a total break from reality.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tagging List: @langdonsinferno, and @moonagecordelia and remember, my tag list is all sorts of messed up so please lmk if you want to be on it! either for this story or all my work! 

Previous Parts: Part 1

“I thought that vampires fed off of humans? Why did he go for you instead of me?”

“Well, yeah, vampires feed off of humans, but that’s not their only food source. Faerie blood is actually more nutritious and flavorful for vampires, just humans are more readily available and easier to hunt. He probably smelt my blood and sought me out.”

“… Wow, I mean makes sense, I guess?” It really didn’t, nothing made sense to her, but also Jim could tell her that the sky was actually purple and the ocean was orange, and she’d believe him at this point.

“You should probably take care of him.”

“Yeah, probably. Do I need something stronger than rope.”

He scoffed, “Yes, probably something more like a stake through the heart.”

She looked to the darkly angelic figure passed out on the floor. He looked helpless now, and she could see that the wounds that were on the cat adorned and tarnished his skin. He was hurt, and probably just looking for a way to heal himself. She felt bad, but on the other hand, Jim was in danger. So was she. This was fucked up. “No.”

Jim gave her a look like she might be insane.

“I said no. He’s just trying to survive like you. I’ll get like, chains or something. That should hold him?”

Jim looked at her with such bewilderment, she felt like she was the weird one in the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s probably going to end badly.”

She was still looking at the vampire. Probably, she was thinking, but that’s not what she said. “I think it’s going to be fine.”

“…. Okay, if you say so.” Jim was still so unsure of this. “Just move him please.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

—————————

Moving the vampire that was nearly double her size wasn’t an easy feat, but she did it. Thank god for the hauls of fish she’s been lugging around her whole life or this might actually be impossible. She had him propped up against the support beam in the living room. That was the sturdiest place in her house she could think of, but you knew you needed to move fast. There was no telling how much time you had before he woke up, and she couldn’t imagine he’d be happy when he did. Now, the next problem was finding chains and a lock that was probably heavy duty enough. She figured the boatyard, but she’d really have to move her ass.

She grabbed the keys to her dad’s old beat up pick up truck and a jacket and hurried out the door. She was humming to herself in a tense song, a habit she did out of nervousness, and fumbled with the keys.

“Hi there, Y/N, a little la-” a familiar voice called, but with the night’s events, she was already under so much pressure, and she yelped and nearly threw the keys. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hi, Rory. Sorry, it’s been a night.” Oh Rory, the older Irish gentleman that ran the dock’s favorite bar to go to in the evening, and her next door neighbor. She had known him her whole life, a steady constant in this crazy shit show her life had been these past couple of months. She really wasn't alarmed with him being out so late. With his business, he always had been a night owl.

“I can see that,” his thick accent rang out with a chuckle, and she blanched for a second. “Dragging in buckets of sea water?”

“It’s an art project,” She answered maybe a little too fast and he cocked an eyebrow. “You know, for processing trauma. I read about it.”

“Okay then, Y/N,” he was unsure, but he was going to drop it. He knew grief made people do some strange things sometimes. 

“I’m going out for more things.” She didn’t know when to stop talking apparently.

“Well, good luck with that at 3 am. Just be careful,” he wished her well, “It’s a full moon, all the crazies are out tonight.”

She just chuckled uneasily, if she could only tell him. “Will do, you get some rest.”

“You too, dear.”

She was finally able to get the truck open and started, and she sped off to the boatyard.

————————————

The yard was desolate and particularly eerily this night. Mist from the water was creeping over the place and gave it an all too fitting gothic appearance. She really wished that the world would stop being so poetic for a change. She found herself pulling her jacket tighter as she walked in between the older and busted up boats, something making the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. A presence was following her, but she was all too tired of the night's weirdness to give into the thought. Surely, tonight couldn't get weirder. 

She had to kick the door down to the supply shed, but she doubted anyone would really care. This was the forgotten side of town anyway. She found heavy duty chains and a padlock fairly quickly, a feeling of satisfaction filled her that was quickly overshadowed by something else. Her head whipped up to the door and then to the window. She saw nothing, but she swore she felt eyes on her. Very intent eyes. God damn it. At this point, she was just hoping for another human.

The best thing to do was just get the hell out of there regardless, she decided, and without actually breaking into a run, she moved as fast as she could.

Outside, she swore she hear footsteps of something. It was much too big to be a person, but she didn’t know what it could be. Could be anything. She didn't know, and she was getting tired of this one night getting so fucking weird. There was an idea trying to creep into her mind, one that she was trying to violently shut out. She actually might just give up if she was right.

There was a movement and then a soft growl. She blanched again, but sighed. Of course. No, of course this would be the night that even more insane shit has to happen. She turned to the boat she saw the movement coming from and her eyes widened, yet she was somehow not surprised. A giant wolf monster sat perched up on the cabin and she nodded. “Sure. Yep. This might as well happen. Let’s just get this over with.”

It glowered at her as it crept down and off the boat, but in the bright moonlight, she saw the deep wounds ruining the lay of the coat. It growled again and began to stand on this back legs, standing at it’s full eight foot height, but she held dropped the chains and held up her hands. “Don’t even think about it, buddy,” she said firmly and the wolf’s ears pitched forward, clearly curious about the lack of fear.

“I’ve got a hurt merman and a vampire I need to restrain soon or he’s going to try to eat the merman at home. I see that you’re hurt. I can take care of you, but I need you to stop being a dick.”

It looked like it was debating something it’s head before settling down on all fours and cautiously moved towards her before gently nuzzling into her neck, smelling and licking her, she figured that this was some kind of greeting that werewolves had, but he was being friendly, but she just rolled with it. It was that kind of night that was already weird enough. She scratched behind it’s ears and it practically mewled and she had to smile, that was pretty cute.

“Come on, let’s go. I have to get back before the vampire wakes up.”

He limped along with her, and she had to help the poor thing up into the bed of the truck, but he was behaving quite well. She covered him up, with one of the tarps she used for the fish, and hopped in. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late, and she felt worry pit itself in her stomach.

———————————————–

She had to make sure the lights on in Rory’s house were off before she uncovered the newest friend and boy from her truck and hurried him into the house.

The first thing she did was check to make sure that the vampire was still out and passed out where she left him. Thankfully, he was, and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. She went back to the kitchen as the werewolf began sniffing around. “Go upstairs, it’s the room with the lights on.”

The wolf looked at her uneasily, but he relented and sulked up the stairs on all fours, looking over its’ shoulders at her.

She grabbed the chains and quickly secured the vampire to the post. There was a moment that nearly had her passing out, his nose flared a couple of times when she got closer, but luckily that was his only response to her.

She didn’t waste anymore time though, grabbed the medical box for the third time tonight, and she was running up the stairs. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the large furry head pop out of the doorway. It was odd to have such a large creature in her house, but she didn’t think about that just yet. She sat the box down on the desk and she heard it growl softly.

“Come on, I know this is going to hurt a little bit, but,” the wolf cut her off with another, more aggressive growl.

“Uhhh, Y/N,” Jim called from the bathroom. “What was that?”

She turned around and went to the door. “I might have made another new friend tonight.” The wolf’s head popped into sight from the door to look at where the other voice came from out of curiosity, and Jim went white.

“That’s an alpha werewolf.”

She grunted as he pushed his way into the bathroom and began smelling and licking at Jim’s neck like he had done with her, and Jim couldn’t help the giggles that escaped his mouth and it only encouraged the wolf to tickle him more, but he eventually pushed him off gently.

Jim smiled shyly at the wolf before looking to her again. “Why was he growling at you?”

“I was just getting ready to stitch up his wounds.”

The monstrous animal’s ears pinned back at the word and Jim swatted his muzzle, startling the wolf.

“Be nice. She doesn’t know anything and you can’t talk in that form,” Jim chided with a small smile.

“You don’t need to rub it in!” She was almost defensive, but Jim was laughing.

“Werewolves don’t need stitches, particularly alphas. He’ll be fine by tomorrow night, you won’t even know that he was hurt.”

She nodded, but then stopped. “Why did he come with me then? If he didn’t need help.”

Jim’s eyes were practically shining with mischief. “He probably thinks you’re cute.”

She was bright red now and she looked at the clear amusement both of them had.

“Or he had other reasons, I’m just,” He had to think about it. He wasn’t sure about the human word for this. “Having my fun?” He had a little shy smile, and while she was scowling, her heart melted a bit at the expression.

“I didn’t realize I was opening my door to such jokesters,” but even she had to laugh.

She let out a yawn, and she realized how tired she was out. It hit like a freight train now that she didn't have a murderous vampire on the loose and she no longer had to play doctor. “Well, I think I’m going to be retiring for the night. Jim would you like a pillow or something?”

He cocked he eyebrow. Right, that makes sense that they wouldn’t have them in the ocean.

“I’ll go get one for you away.”

The wolf followed her out of the bathroom and crawled up on the bed for no regard to his weight as he circled like any dog would before settling down on the bed. She grabbed one of the extra pillows and returned to stuff it in the corner between the wall and the bathtub and Jim hesitantly rested his head against it before his eyes lit up.

“This is very comfortable. What did you call this?”

She chuckled, “A pillow. Goodnight, Jim.”

He smiled, “Goodnight, Y/N. Thank you. again.”

“It’s no problem.” With that, she left again for the bedroom.

She looked at the wolf, seemingly asleep, and she decided what the hell. She took her bra off and her pants, leaving herself in just a shirt and underwear. She crawled into bed under the blankets and tried to get comfortable, but sleep wasn’t coming to her at all. She was just replaying the events of the night.

So, at the beginning of the night, it was crippling loneliness and a solid crying session, then late night sailing on the boat …. Then she saved a merman …. Then they got attacked by a vampire ….. and then she picked up a werewolf ….. and now there’s a merman in  her bathtub, a vampire chained up in the living room, and a werewolf in bed with her. She sighed. This was…. weird. This was a weird night. This couldn’t have happened, could it? This stuff was made up. Oh god, she was having a mental breakdown. She was breaking and this wasn’t real. None of this was real.

She was starting to hyperventilate, panic gripping her, but then she felt a warm head, a very warm, very large, and very fluffy head nuzzle into her chest. A strong, furry arm ending in a hand with extremely long and sturdy claws wrapped around her abdomen and pulled her tight. An animal’s tongue licked her cheek and she had to laugh at how much it tickled. She heard the wolf make a noise deep within its throat in approval and she relaxed. This was real. It was very very real and she had the feeling that this wolf wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Sleep soon took over, and for the first time in what felt like years, there was a smile on her face.

[fisherfurbearer]

fuck sam walmarts

and fuck management

I’ve had it. Left the store in tears tonight.

as some peoople probably/hopefully know. walmart closes at 6 pm on christmas eve. no one actually gets to leave at 6 becuase of shitty last minute customers. but it is what it is.

this. is really personal but im honestly SO close to just. killing myself? so who cares

basically. had a really really bad last few days. spent a lovely time with family (jessies family, his oma and opa and sister and parents and it was just a great time. theyre more family to me than most of my blood family) but it did make me Sad in Deep ways as we dont know if this is going to be our last christmas with his oma who isnt doing so good. and it just twisted me up a little but was othewrsiwse a great day. but then sunday i just...had a huge breakdown in the morning and decided to use my accomodation (i get 2 excused absenses a month) to cool down and gte myself together. slept a lot. woke up adn got a lot done, felt great, then i CRASHED really really bad, got really angry, lashed otu, took like...8-10 sleeping pills...theyre horrific things and im never doing that again...had to sleep for two days after that...felt horrifically sick, in pain, just awful. had repeating nightmares over and over. which has also been wearing me down recently. wasnt able to work monday either because i still couldnt stand and between the pills and the depression/anxiety and really just. felt like the world was ending.

decided sometime last night id just...try my best to make it in today, work my shift (really long 9-6, knowing i wouldnt leave on time nad htisis my first time working in 5 days now...which is rough...) and if i can get through this, i have another couple days off in a row after that (schedules fault, not mine...do feel awful i missed 3 days before that though...) and we can just. get back on track

today i DID go to work, jessie drove me in

i worked. a long time. im supposed to get a break every 2 hours and a 1 hour lunch

i gott my first break on timeish.

then i got my lunch 6 hours after i got in. at which time i got “locked out” for not taking my lunch and coudlnt do anything on the registers. i was supposed to get it 4 hours in. its christmas eve and excruciating and im still in pain and tired from my previous days breakdowns, but otherwise?? i did really good. i didnt mind at all that my lunch was so late. i was a little miffed, but its ok. i dont care, so long as i get it eventually. anyway they FINALLY noticed i was locked out and got me coverage and i ended my lunch at 4. things continued ok. worked on self checkout, met a lot of regulars i really like, prevented $200 of theft (HAHA WOW that was really really funny i love preventing petty theft. i prevent so much theft every week its my pride and joy) just did okay. then they had us close self checkout that took a little while. then at 5:00-5:10 or so i went to my Manager/Supervisor/”““People LEad” as walmart is now trying to call them, lets call her manager Y, and i told her i still need my break and will i get it before i leave. she said go to register 4. i asked again hey will i get my break though and she said yeah and i thought to mysel HAHA thats not going to happen but ok

really stupid that after bieng locked out the first time she couldnt give me my break before i openned a register with a line i cant get rid of

anywayy i did ok otherwise for a while

but at 5:25 or so i reminded a CSM “hey i need my break still can i get that?” and she just ssaid yeah well try to get someone and then more time passed so much time. i put through an ask on the register “assistance needed”. waited another 10 minutes. “assistance needed” again. starting to get anxious. its past 5:40. the line is so long. theres so MUCH NOISE. Its SO LOUD. the intercom keeps going off, no one is responding to me, i dont have a mat to stand on so my knees HURT,, im not doing okk

i switch my light to flashing/need assistance and start looking for someone to ask for help. its 5:45, i need my break NOW, i DESERVE IT for workng this long ass shift and they already missed several of my last breaks a week ago AND got me locked out today and im STARTING TO GET ANXIOUS PELASE I JUST WANT MY BREAK SO BAD

nnthgen a csm is passing by im about to lose it, so i tell her CSM J, please i really need my break now PLEASE and im starting to ccry and i try to tell her whats going on but she shushes me and goes and gets sometone

im full on tears at this point, im so strreesed out,,

manager Y and some other snooty manager come over andd. ffkcing. ask me whats wrong. im crying and i try to explain im really really stressed out, i havent had my last break, ive been trying to get someone for so long now, i just really need to leave im so sorry

and theyy just. fckkng

ffcking manager Y jjst ssays ok “ill give you your break” and “this is your last break” and i ssaid?? yeah i knoww?? andd she saidd “next time youre like this, just dont come in”

i quote that completeltyyy....i really lost it then...i cried som muchh

this isnt the first itme she said something like this to meee...

she asked me “why are you CRYING” When i had an anxiety attacki n the store once, when ic cloked in and couldnt get myself together,, she didnt give me time to calm down, she didnt listen as to why, she just said “why are you crying. this is a BUSINESS. you cant be CRYING Here.” and i just said ok ill go home bye and leftt

andd when i tried to get my availability changed from 7-9 to 7-6/7-7 because the random late shifts with 7 am shifts was messing me up really really bad and my doctor thinks i need to hcange it too, she just said “i cant do that. thisi sa BUSINESS.” and she wouldnt listen when i said i might have to quit because of this, this is for my health, im literally scheduled 7-2 every sunday in december, busiest day of the busiest month and you cant even chop TWO HOURS off my weekend availability????

andd i jjst

ive HAD IT with her

ive had ittt

im so ashamed and angry and anxious and i still havent stopped cryingg. she called me over to her again as i was leaving and she blamed me for it. she ssaid a customer was upset that i “Screamed” (ues i raised my voice a little but i wasnt screaming??? also the two customers i was attending to when this was going on and i cried were VERY KIND nad jjst said i was doing a good job and thanked me for being there) and called a manager over (but...csm J got them?? not a customer...??) and i cant be acitng like this, i cant do customer service when im stressed,, and d i should just STAY HOME If im going to be like that

then shee fufkcing toold me i DID IT WRONG, that i “shouldve called someone over” I TOLD HER I DID!!!!! I DID!!!!!!!!!! YOU NAIL INTO MY HEAD IM NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE REGISTER SO I DIDNT, I DID EVERYTHING ELSE I COULD THOUGH!!! I REQUESTED HELP TWICE!! I TURNED MY LIGHT TO FLASHING!!! I TRIED TO CATCH A MANAGER WALKING BY TO HELP ME!!! N OONE LISTENED UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE, I DID EVERYHTING I COULD!! yet she seriously told me to my face that “you didnt call anyone”, “you couldve turned your light to flashing” WHICH I DID and sshee jjst said that i made customers uncomfortable and i cant work like thatt and just stay hhome

ii stayed home sunday because i was having a mjor mental emergencyy.

i came in today because i was feeling better and i took it eaasy and ended up doing a wonderful job and mad eso many people smilea nd fixed so many problems that wouldve otherwise upset a lot of folks and i met my regulars and made old folks smile andd i prevented a lot of theft that no one else wouldve caughtt and i jjstt broke down after 9 hours and not getting a last break and all the chaos of register (WHICH BY THE WAY THEY KNOW I DONT LIKE REGISTER!!! I THRIVE ON SLE FCHECOUT!!! THATS MY JOB TITLE!! THATS WHAT I DO!!!! THEY KNOW THISS!!!!) and HER AVOIDING GIVING ME MY FUCKING BREAK and NOT RESPECTING MY FFUCKING METNAL DISABILITIES LJNASDKAJHDBASJSDNAJSNDKANSD

I JJST DONT KNOW WHAT TO DOO

i really want to die and i really want to never go back but i really loved my job i loved helpting people ii jjst hate her so muchhh and i feel GENUINE DREAD/SEVERE ANXIETY jjst SEEING her nnow

she doesnt CARE about anyone but herself shes a horrible peson i cant tell the store manager though cause she wont care either and manager Y has more clout than me so shell just twist my words and make me out as the bad guy as hte “CRAZY ONE” who cries and gets stressed (FOR COMPLETELY VALID REASONS AFTER BEING PUSHED OVER THE EDGE) even tthough i work SO FFRIKCING HARD and do SUCH A GOOD JOB and asdjanjsdhajshdas

i d ont know what to doo

i cant work another job because no where else pays as much or will let me do self checkout only, because being a cashier stresses me so muchh

ii...really wanntted to grow stuff and make preserves and sell bee products and work with folks raising heritage sheep and make more fiber art andd open a little stall at a local market and sell all that,, and offer more online and do customs andd stuff

i know i could mkae money that wa ybut i ccantt start it so sudenly and im too Broken to do it seriouslyy and i dont even want to HAVE to quit because of ONE PERSON But shes done this so many times now and this is the nfinfal streaww

i jjst dont know what to doo...

i cantt stop cryingg

i cant even enjoy christmas nnow. wanted to see my stepdad and give him his presernt and maybe be ok.

last christmas we had to move because our house was condemned after a fire. now im going to have to lose my job because of a horrible manager who doenst respect my metnal health or anything about me reallyy. and unfortunately im such a failure that i cant. do anything else and if i lose this job ill lse my animla sand i wotnt be able to do anyhtingg andd im jjust fucking trash

goddammit i dont know what to do. i really dont. hhahaaa. i just really want to end it. ive come so far and none of it fucking matters because of thiss fucking horrible manager.

[alycat411]

Covid has kicked my ass. I lay here at 3:05am on April 2nd waving my white flag. Today was probably the worst day since March 12th. Can I put into words why? I can try, but the experience is hard to capture. It’s the culmination of 3 weeks of self isolation; my spirit feels like it’s been snapped in half, and we have so much more to go.

I woke up to Pawel telling me he tested positive. I can’t count the number of times I’ve vacillated on attempting to get tested myself. It’s completely inane of me but I want some form of proof so I feel slightly less crazy. I went for a run. The fresh air was nice, but my lungs are recovering and I have to adjust to that. At the start of all this I was amused that I could see the grocery store parking lot from my window. I thought, “how convenient! I can time my trips.” It’s turned into a nightmare. I’ve managed to limit my Twitter/news exposure but I now have a compulsion of checking the parking lot. The line was terrible today. I had planned to do a big haul. I thought we were past the panic buying stage but I’m starting to lose my grip with reality and I felt genuinely worried today that there may be a shortage. I waited in a socially distanced line at Walgreens for an hour today so I could enter the store and pick up my thyroid medicine. There’s nothing like standing in a line to enter Walgreens and then see that you can’t stock up on anything to freak you out.

I’m realizing during this quarantine that New York City residents are definitely among the fucked, well depending on your social class too. Domestic living never looked so good. I shaped my life around accessibility to “doing things” and meeting new people. I curated my dream work schedule of a mere 20 hours a week. It has now become my hell with all other forms of structure removed. I can’t fill my time in a meaningful way and I don’t know what that is meant to say about me. Apparently I coped by going to the gym, getting a green juice, seeing my coworkers and clients, seeing New Yorkers on the train, having dates, going out to dinner, seeing shows and planning things. As I panick-sobbed on the phone to my mother tonight and she screamed at me get a grip about twenty times, I realized how crucial it is to be anchored to things during a pandemic. Prior to all of this I was already suffering from bouts of existential depression. I achieved my dream. Work was pretty ideal. My life was pretty ideal. It left me asking myself: now what? So I decided on a year of hedonism after years of restriction. I’d finally travel and allow myself to spend money. The irony now is that all of this has thrown me into budget mode more than before I became licensed. I’m so fortunate to still have clients but I don’t feel a sense of certainty. Each day this unfolds more people lose their jobs. How much do my clients need me? I ask myself everyday. And my mental health has never been in such conflict with being a therapist. I have never felt so out of resources, so depleted, so ill-equipped to be a space for anyone right now, and at the same time, I need to do therapy to maintain my sanity, so I don’t fall off the face of the earth.

Clients share with me new stories and data I hadn’t heard. My job has morphed into something insidious for my mental health. Where I used to have distance and had mastered not taking anything home, I can’t now; I am in my home. And my clients are transferring panic onto me. A client I’ve been seeing for 2.5 years is now furloughed at her job. She had the worst birthday she’s ever had as she battled with her partner on a decision to stay or leave the city. I express empathy. My heart breaks for her. And it’s too close to home for me. All of them are struggling more than normal, and I’m feeling it.

My partner John has been my only in person contact since the 16th. We’ve shared similar emotions but the problem with that is constantly draining one another. There are pockets when one of us is doing “well enough” to let the other process. But this has undoubtedly flared up our anxious/avoidant dynamic. I imagine the same for many couples. It’s a high stress time. I need more security and therefore closeness right now to be calmed. He needs more security and therefore more alone time to be calmed. And being polyamorous has been pretty breezy up until now. And now it’s my worst nightmare. Just like my job and freedom has become too. I never thought I’d wish to be anchored to things so badly.

I’ve reflected a lot on the meaning of life and best approaches to it since January. I’ve recognized since before the pandemic that I need something to struggle against, to push back against. Freedom is so lovely most of the time. But that small portion of time it’s really uncontaining, like you’re free falling alone in a galaxy that never ends. The pandemic has made all of life now that small portion of free falling. I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m pretty positive this is why most people have children by this age. How else can we continue to shuffle along without an anchor telling us to keep going?

Everyday is Groundhogs Day. I started off week 1 of quarantine with my usual optimism. My home workouts felt life changing. I was a supportive space to all. Like my MCMI pegs me, I flipped to my dark burnt out side. When I run out of fuel I am completely depressed and empty. Getting corona obviously stopped the home workouts. It also knocked the wind out of my “it will be okay sails.” Starting last Tuesday I began experiencing shortness of breath. My initial encounters with it were resolved with my calm demeanor assuring myself that I could definitely breathe. But by Friday it got harder. I couldn’t even talk without getting winded. I sat across from John and just began to cry as I felt my lungs struggle to expand so that I could get a good breath in. I’m so lucky that the shortness of breath has since stopped as of Sunday. I’m hearing about people’s cases taking a turn for the worse. I’m not taking my health for granted anymore. I could easily be one of the unlucky ones. I don’t think I’m healthy. I can breathe fine today, I just can’t stop crying.

I haven’t cried this frequently since Pawel and I broke up. It hits me instantly. I get a thought and boom I’m crying. A sign of how fragile I feel? Am I really that worn down? And is this all it took? It’s amusing for me to see how emotionally weak I am during something like this. I’m the individual metaphorically and literally in the fetal position wanting to wake up when this is over. I am not the therapist posting guides for her clients. I am not the colleague sending positive emails. I’m just a girl, sad and alone in her New York City apartment holding herself, hoping this will end soon.

[unfortunatelysirius]

╰☆☆ ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝔾𝕀ℝ𝕃𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 ☆☆╮ [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 13]

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 ╰❂╮ prompt ╰❂╮ ☾ ¡Original! ☾ Y/N and Regulus make a pact, and Sirius begins to uncover the truth. ╰❂╮ author’s note ╰❂╮ so so sorry for the huge wait, but here i am, and this is short (not terribly short but still short) but believeeeee me, the next part will be soon and will be big~ hope you guys are doing fantastic :]]] ╰❂╮ warnings ╰❂╮ Angst, Swearing ╰❂╮ word count ╰❂╮ 1843 ╰❂╮ tag-list ╰❂╮ @kapolisradomthoughts @rageofcaliban @saucyleftovers @bunnymother93 @siriuslyr5 @apareciumimagines  @random-quartz @ruefulposts @seabasstiantrash @starlightspidey @pinkettepoet @peppermintspecks @jiongyongguk

    “Regulus,” whispered Y/N, heart pounding erratically against her chest, “what is going on?”

         There was nothing—nothing but the look of disdain he wore as a mask, and the blue, tremoring veins pressed against the tightly-woven flesh of his fist, an alarming feature that did not whisk by unnoticed. Observing him, Y/N could read nothing but his obvious fatigue, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hair appeared uncombed. The wrinkled composition of his robes. The resemblance he bore to Severus Snape at that moment was unsettling, though Y/N could tell it was not something he wanted—not in the slightest—and that alone caused an ache of sympathy to shoot through Y/N’s heart—

         But observations aside, there was a reason she was called away from her obligations of sitting and dissecting pumpkin crumble to assist him as a conservational partner. The last part was certainly dubious. Of course, this was Regulus Black she was associating herself with; the boy was antisocial, and clever beyond a wit’s measure, and Y/N never saw him talking to anyone but a select few housemates and occasionally Sirius. The two of them weren’t friends. This had to be a serious matter, though the prejudiced part of Y/N wondered if his unsubtle request was a cruel joke, one he would allow Mulciber and Rosier and Goyle to perform on her.

         “You’ve been Obliviated,” said Regulus, finally, in such a tone—dripping in finality—that Y/N startled. “Do you remember anything?”

         Y/N pushed his words aside, her fear overruling rationality, the side which wanted to listen and understand what has caused everything to go so terribly wrong. She bit her lip, and frowned. “We shouldn’t be talking to each other—it could wind up getting you or me seriously hurt—“

         “That’s not what matters here, Y/N!” Y/N, in all her years at Hogwarts, never thought Regulus to be capable of raising his voice. This caused her to blink, and to internally shrink, previous fight slowly faltering, like a dying animal. “I know the stories. I know the rumors. And I know you’re being a pawn to a bigger player’s game.”

         Y/N’s frown deepened. “How did you know I was Obliviated? How do you know any of this?”

         “Not the point,” Regulus said dismissively, and then hissed, “Any proper potions brewer can manipulate the potion to perform a supplement of its actual effect. Take Veritaserum; with proper handling, and proper instruction, any person with a brain can tamper it to make everything out of your mouth a lie, not truth.

         “The same can be done to a love potion. You can tamper it, enchant it, to make whoever sips it temporarily smitten with the first person they see. But the strong brewers can use their words, make whoever you become smitten with whoever they want. And sometimes, they can mix it with other elements and ingredients, make it where you’re in a different mindset and following the heart of whoever it is. The last one’s easier. All you need is a lock of someone’s hair.”

         Y/N gasped, horrified to think everything was suddenly making sense, then thought back to that fatal outing she had with Sirius:

{…} “The stars do look rather beautiful tonight,” said Y/N, raising her canteen at Sirius. She was the first to take a sip.

Then, she mumbled something. It was a hollow, throated sound, filled with monotonous desperation. And Y/N’s entire mind clouded, replaced with the thoughts of someone foreign, the feelings as foreign to her as water was to fire, and thoughts appeared, all at once.

I wonder if Father will allow me to marry Lucius. He’s the only kind one of my suitors. Oh, but Alex! He may be young, but he has an adventurous soul, though it is rather limited. I remember the flowers he brought me on Valentine’s…

Her gaze was now clearing and her eyelids were thickening, raising higher and higher and higher—all until she looked like a madwoman, breaths falling from her mouth in uneven intervals. “Alex. Alex. Oh, Alex.”

Sirius looked horrified. He reached across the table and grabbed her hands into his, ignoring how she recoiled at his touch—ignoring the repulsion on her mouth. “Y/N,” he said softly. “Who is Alex?”

Y/N—Narcissa—snatched her hands away from him. “Oh, Alex,” she whimpered. “How could he bear to know that someone with the name Black has touched my hand, has branded me a blood-traitor? He will never ask for my hand in marriage now. Never, never, never.”

         Alex will never take the hand of a blood traitor. I am no blood-traitor. I am Narcissa Black, the only Black not crazy or a traitor, and Alex will take my hand in marriage.

         -

         “Oh my god,” said Y/N, no longer able to stand on her own two legs. She slowly slumped to the ground, bringing with her whatever dignity she had left.

         Regulus crouched down, bringing up a hand to lay on Y/N’s knee. It may have looked suggestive to any mere passerby, but Y/N knew it was empathetic comfort, nothing more. “I’ll need to help you get back your memories, Y/N,” the boy said lowly, quiet enough that they were the only two souls to hear it. “But we cannot do it here. Meet me in the Restricted Section tonight, at midnight.”

         Before Y/N could get a word out—specifically her affirmation for the idea---Regulus was standing and turning, leaving with a swish of his robes. It left Y/N with a rotten taste in her mouth, one that caused her to sink further into the ground, wishing she could be swallowed whole.

         -

         “Oh, Merlin,” Remus Lupin whispered, turning to look at Sirius after the four Marauders watched Regulus stride off and Y/N collapse. They’d heard most of everything, and the broken, remorseful expression on Sirius’s face was enough to make any living person’s chest ache. “Sirius…”

         But Sirius wasn’t looking. And he wasn’t listening. He had his eyes clenched shut, looking to be totally void of any sense for the modern day, as he pulled at his hair, angry, angry, angry, like the only one he now wanted to punch and kick was himself.

         Similarly, James wasn’t looking at either of them. And he held no attention for Peter, who was nervously looking at Remus, like he was the only one with any real sense. Instead, James was staring at Y/N. Watching her with this look of heart-churning realization, like his gut had wrenched itself inside-out. He’d been so angry at her, thinking she’d played some sick game with his best mate’s head, when in reality, they were all pawns to a bigger pawn’s game—just like Regulus had said.

         And Regulus. James knew it was shameful for the four of them—the Marauders, known for their wit and intelligence—to be so stupidly blind. To allow Y/N to be hurt, and to hunt for answers all by herself, while they patted their friend on the back, brooding over the betrayal of someone who did nothing but wear her heart on her sleeve, like a true Gryffindor.

         James was disappointed in himself. He should have known something was amiss, especially when Y/N came knocking on their door, desperate to reconcile. If she were truly ill-intentioned, she would not have come looking to apologize. She wouldn’t have seemed ready to cry when James had snapped at her, telling her to leave his best friend alone.

         It was all a bloody mess. One that James had no clue how to fix.

         One that Remus had no clue how to fix.

         One that Peter had no clue how to fix.

         One that Sirius had no clue how to fix.

-

         Y/N stood, onto shaky legs. She could feel her heart pounding, and her body aching, as though she’d been pummeled by the sky a thousand times over. And she could feel her heart hurting, more than it had ever hurt before, because this time it was due to fallen memories, dying from the absence it held of answers she needed, ones made complicated by the flourish of a fucking wand.

         She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to pound her fists into the dirt, yelling for a mercy that no one—not even Merlin himself—would grant.

         This situation was painful. So painful and so consequential that Y/N was looking to a stranger for guidance, a boy who she once thought washed with insensible, parental bullshit, now capable of compassion, and willing to help her, even though she was broken—broken beyond prepare.

         And here was the broken girl, walking slowly away from the place where she’d lost her dignity, heading to where she’d stay until it was time for answers, her dormitory, because she had nowhere else to go, and not a single soul to curve into for comfort.

         And even now, she was hallucinating the idea of Sirius, for he was standing in the next corridor, there with his friends, three blokes once dearly close to Y/N, before she’d lost them. And he seemed so real, too, because he was staring at her, with these round, bloodshot eyes, just staring, so terribly sad and heartbroken that Y/N just wanted to hug him.

         She ached to touch him again, to hold him dear and close—just as she dreamed and just as she now deluded herself into imagining. It was beautiful. And heart-wrenching.

         Something Y/N kept thinking, and yearning for, that she could hardly feel or return the hard, abrupt, and clumsy hug she suddenly received from Sirius Black himself.

         She was frozen. She was concerned. She questioned her own sanity because his arms felt so real, his hair felt so real, his tears felt so real. Was he real? Was this a ghost of the past? Was this a dream? Or would he get brutally ripped from her, leaving her in the essence of a nightmare?

         She was unsure. She was stuck. Until he murmured three words, against the base of her throat, words that brought air bubbles into her heart’s pitter-pattering beat, that had a hiccupping sob erupting from her mouth—

         “I’m so sorry.”

         And Y/N’s arms returned the hug, feverishly, like she might never hug again. Like he might disappear, and she’d be left with nothing. But he was physical flesh. He was physical bone. He was a beautiful canvas, one Y/N desperately sought to ruin, over and over again, until he was her flesh, until he was her bone.

         “I love you,” he sobbed into her hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

         And though Y/N wanted to pound at his chest and scream at him for shredding apart her heart and leaving her with nothing, she felt no other feeling than love, than wholeness, for her heart was no longer shredded. It had come back together into a puzzle of pieces meant only for one man, whose name was Sirius.

         He was here, living, breathing—and he still loved her. And that was all that mattered.

[faveficarchive]

I’ve Been to Pocatello, but I’ve Never Been to Me

Another White Trash Tale of Depravity, Soul-Searching, and Potato Chips

By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: This is the fourth installment in the White Trash Series. Gabrielle learns all about Zina’s dark past when a few unwanteds wander back into her girlfriend’s life.

1. An Interlude in the Manner of Pinky and the Brain

"Gabrielle, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so, baby. I'll go get your fire helmet and the nacho cheese dip."

"No, I'm not thinking about that."

"Okay. Let me try again." A hopeful pause. A batting of fair eyelashes. A comely pout. "Your fire helmet and the vibrator?"

Zina sighed. Her fire helmet—the penultimate symbol of her profession, a badge of pride, a lifesaving device—had been reduced, by Gabrielle, to both a fetish object and a receptacle for foodstuffs. She was just grateful that Gabrielle had decided the helmet was ill-suited for use as a pitcher for margaritas (her hair had smelled like tequila for weeks). "I'm thinking…"

"Always a bad sign, baby."

"…like maybe we should go to the movies."

Gabrielle regarded her skeptically. "Really?" She loved to go to movie theaters, but since Zina found the entire experience stressful—dealing with large, inane groups of people was not the firefighter's forte—they did not go very often.

Zina cleared her throat. This "being sensitive" shit is really hard. "Listen, Gabrielle, I thought, you know, you deserve a night out, a night where we do something different…'cause, uh, I know your finals were hard."

"I agree, absolutely. So like I said, let me go get your helmet and the vibrator…"

"Now, how is that special? We've done that plenty of times."

"Well, this time I'll let you wear the helmet, stud." With a wiggle of her eyebrows, Gabrielle ran upstairs. Grinning, Zina followed. She was more than willing to do whatever it would take to make the little poet happy…especially when it involves sex, thought the firefighter, as she took the steps two at a time.

*****

Cyrene stepped out of her Volkswagen, humming the crazy violin part of "Baba O'Riley," her head bobbing up and down, and approached the front door of the farmhouse. She lingered on the porch as she peered into the daunting recesses of her macramé purse, looking for the house keys, something that was hard to do in the evening light. A full fifteen minutes passed, during which she found some Chiclets from 1977 and the results of an VD test from 1990 (Hey, I'm negative! Cool!), before she finally found the keys. Still humming, she entered the darkened home that her daughter shared with Gabrielle. She wound her way through the black hallway to the kitchen, where she snapped on the light. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them briskly. Okay, I've got a half an hour before the meeting, just enough time to make hummus…

"Ayiyyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyi!" The strange cry ripped through the room and, not wasting any time, Cyrene grabbed the nearest butcher knife and, with a less exotic shriek of her own, jumped on the kitchen counter. Her daughter was crouched in the doorway, nude, ready to pounce, wielding a baseball bat…and with a fire helmet ever so slightly askance on her head.

"Jesus, Zina!" Cyrene cried, as her adrenaline rush subsided. "What the fuck was that?"

Zina grinned. "Just a little something I picked up from the Discovery Channel," she said proudly. "Didn't know you could still jump that fast, Mom." She rose to her full height and leaned the bat in a corner. "Sorry. I thought you were a burglar or somethin'."

"I didn't think you were home, honey. Gabrielle said I could use the house tonight for an LPN group meeting."

"LPN?" Zina echoed. Her mother wanted to become a nurse?

Cyrene sighed. Another disbeliever. "Legalize Pot Now."

The firefighter snorted. "Oh, for Christ's sake."

Cyrene jabbed a finger of maternal authority at Zina. "Yeah, man, scoff all you want. All I can say if it weren't for pot, you wouldn't be here right now!" Somehow a Chevy van, a bottle of Boone's Hill strawberry wine, an 8-track tape of Badfinger, and a draft dodger with a droopy mustache had appeared all the more erotic and alluring under the influence of a fat joint.

Footsteps on the stairs announced Gabrielle's arrival. The lithe poet had taken a minute to make herself presentable for dangerous felons, and had thrown on a t-shirt and shorts. But her mussed hair, reddened lips, and flushed face announced, louder than a Siegfried and Roy show at Vegas, what she and her hunky firefighter had been up to. "Cyrene? What the hell—"

"You forgot, didn't you?" Cyrene accused gently.

"Oh…shit! I did! I'm sorry." She apologized to two generations of bad-ass chicks at once. Both scowled at her. "Uh, Zina, didn't you say you wanted to go to the movies?"

2. Mrs. Peel, We're Needed

The trip to the movies also involved babysitting Purdy, who was having a fight with Lila. He had called up Gabrielle a few minutes before they were about to leave for the theater, to see if she wanted to get drunk at the Saddle. Soft-hearted little poet that she was, she invited him along. "Is that okay?" she sheepishly asked Zina after the fact.

Zina shrugged. "Sure."

"Zina, you're so nice to Purdy. It's sweet."

"I figure anyone who dumped you for your sister needs some special treatment, if you know what I mean." She waggled a finger in a circle alongside her head.

They met Purdy at the theater. He stood, sulky, in the parking lot, leaning against his Ford pickup, John Deere cap pulled low in an attempt to make his babyfat face more menacing. "Hiya, Gab, Hiya Zina," he greeted. "So, what movie are we seeing?"

Gabrielle smirked with pride. "The Avengers."

Purdy made a face. "Gab, you always pick these artsy-fartsy foreign films!"

Zina nodded in agreement. "Yeah! With these snooty British people or something," she piped up.

"Knock it off, both o' you. I'll have you know that things blow up in this movie, and that Uma Thurman chick runs around wearing leather. It can't be bad."

A skeptical grunt issued forth from the firefighter as they headed into the multiplex. After they bought tickets, Gabrielle immediately took off in the direction of the concession stand. But she didn’t get very far before Zina snagged her arm. "Don't do it," her companion purred in her ear.

Such a suggestive, seductive tone made the blonde poet want to do it even more. "I don't know what you're talking about," she protested, lying, trying to squirm out of Zina's grip.

"You know what I mean, Gabrielle. Don't do it. Don't give in."

Gabrielle stopped thrashing and met Zina's eyes. "Okay, okay. I won't. I swear."

The blue eyes held her gaze for a moment. "All right, then." The firefighter released her. "Get me a Coke, okay? See you down front." She headed for the theater.

As Gabrielle waited patiently in line, she drank in the smell of rancid popcorn and butter. Popcorn. I'll just get some popcorn. With feigned casualness she surveyed the boxes of candy in the display case; the green eyes flickered and hesitated for a nanosecond at the Raisinet boxes, but then continued their thorough scan of the candy. Okay, that was fine. I didn't feel a thing.

Nonetheless she turned away abruptly and studied the faded wallpaper. Oh my…that's a nice pattern. I never thought green and brown could work together like that...Then she turned her attention to a new movie poster: Weekend at Bernie's 3: "This Time It's Personal…Hygiene."

Then the voices began.

Gabrielle.

No! She clutched her forehead. "I'm not listening," she muttered aloud, causing a glance from the burly gentleman in front of her wearing a cowboy hat and a Charlie Daniels Band t-shirt.

Gabrielle! It's us. Please listen!!!

"Stop it!" Gabrielle growled. The large cowboy shifted away from her slightly.

You must listen. Only you can set us free. Gabrielllllllllllle…

"No!"

Look at us.

She shook her head savagely.

Come. Look. Or do you fear us?

Timidly the poet turned, slowly, and looked.

The box of Raisinets glowed with a preternatural beauty, even more striking than Zina in full firefighter regalia (or buck naked for that matter), and the voices of the Raisinets, blending together with mellow effervescence and sounding precisely like the two midget women in that little box from the Mothra movies, sang their siren song of freedom to their golden-haired liberator: Gabriellllllle…buy us, eat us!

"Ohhhhh…all right!" screamed the poet, scaring away not only the Charlie Daniels guy but also the couple in front of him, and thus effectively shortening the line.

Arms cradling the Coke, the popcorn, a bunch of candy bars, and the evil Raisinets, Gabrielle waddled down the aisle to where her companions sat. She tossed a giant Kit Kat bar at Purdy and thrust a Coke at Zina; both firefighter and mechanic noted the Raisinets lying in her lap.

"Don't say anything," Gabrielle snarled at them.

A long silence ensued. It was finally broken by Purdy's guffaw. "You'll be on the can all night long, then havin' bad dreams," he chastised her. "Man, I am so glad I don't live with you anymore!"

She gave a lunge toward him, sending popcorn flying, but was restrained by Zina's powerful arm. "Down, girl," said the firefighter.

"They…they…" stammered Gabrielle.

"Yeah, I know, honey bunny, they were talking to you…" Zina replied, as if Gabrielle were a reject from the Special Olympics.

"They were!" wailed the poet, as the previews began.

Twenty minutes later, as Zina snored through a trailer for a Brad Pitt film, Purdy, arms folded, threatened once again: "This better be good."

"It can't be bad," assured Gabrielle, whose childlike faith in Hollywood, while tremendously touching, was sorely misplaced, misguided, and plainly retarded.

*****

It was bad.

"How stupid could I be!" cried Gabrielle, as they left the theater for the lobby. "To think that anyone else could be Mrs. Peel!"

"Well, duh," Zina agreed.

"But things sure blowed up pretty good," Purdy said. Zina nodded in assent.

It was all that mattered, really.

"Hey, isn't that Callie over there?" Gabrielle asked apprehensively, grasping her beloved's arm and nodding to a small, poorly dressed group that circled the front of the multiplex and carried strange signs: "THE AVENGERS" PROMOTES UNNATURAL CLOTHES, one said. LEATHER IS FOR BOOTS ONLY, proclaimed another.

Sure enough, the crazed blonde was in the eye of the protesting storm. However, upon spotting the movie-going trio of Zina, Gabrielle, and Purdy, she bore down on them like a bulimic toward a toilet bowl.

"Well!" sniped Callie by way of greeting, "I can guess what sick film you three have been seeing."

Zina rolled her eyes. "Callie, you are pathetic. There was nothing weird in that film. Hell, it was so boring I fell asleep who knows how many times."

"Five," supplied Gabrielle, with some measure of irritation.

"It figures you wouldn't notice the fine details, Zina," Callie sneered haughtily. "The clothing was scandalous and suggestive. It was perverted." Even speaking of the dreaded film caused Callie to grip her jumbo-sized Sprite a little tighter, even though her hand could barely get around it as it was.

"So I take it you actually saw the film?" Gabrielle asked coolly.

"No, of course not! I'm not spending money to see such filth!"

"Lady, you are bonkers," Purdy mumbled.

"What?" hissed Callie.

"You heard me!" he retorted defiantly.

She threw her drink at him, drenching him with sticky carbonated coolness. "You crazy bitch! This is my best flannel shirt!" he cried as she stalked away from them.

"Yeah! You get back here, you bitch!" Gabrielle shouted. She tried to take off after Callie, but found Zina's restraining arm around her midriff.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" Zina asked, perturbed that Gabrielle would get so upset over such a matter—of course, it would have been different had Callie thrown the drink on her, then it would be acceptable for Gabrielle to flip out. But over Purdy? She makes absolutely no sense when she's PMSing, thought Zina, who nonetheless enjoyed the sensation of the wiggling Gabrielle pressed against her.

"She's pushed me too far, Zina! I can't have her throwing drinks at my ex-boyfriend! I got my pride!"

"Yeah, and it's pretty warped, I'd say."

"Lemme go!" demanded the angry poet.

"Gabrielle, don't you remember once…you told me the cycle of violence and hatred must be broken…."

Finally Gabrielle slipped out of the firefighter's loose grasp. "For Christ's sake, Zina, I had four shots of tequila when I said that! Now lemme go kick that twat's ass!" She stomped over to Callie for a Meeting of the Blondes. A brief interaction ensued: Callie, motionless, with eyebrows raised, watched Gabrielle gesticulate all over the place.

It ended with one punch.

Zina was amazed at how quickly Callie could run in heels. The minister was in her Camaro and tearing out of the parking lot before she and Purdy reached the prostrate poet.

"Gabrielle?" The firefighter gently shook the unconscious form. Her frightened blue eyes locked onto the anxious Purdy. "Quick, get some chocolate!"

*****

"Mrs. Peel?" The voice, with its clipped British accent, was vaguely familiar to Gabrielle. Nonetheless her eyelids refused to open until she felt something soft tapping her cheeks.

Willpower pried open her eyes, which could not believe what they were seeing.

It was Zina, kneeling in front of her, grinning, wearing a dark blue pinstripe suit and a bowler hat, a white carnation gracing her lapel. "Mrs. Peel, are you all right?" Zina asked again, in impeccable, more-upper-class -than-thou English tones.

Those goddamn Raisinets!!!! She tried blinking several times in hopes of dispelling the hallucination. No go. "Is it Halloween again?" she whispered timidly.

Zina frowned. "I say, my dear, you simply are not yourself. You even sound different, Mrs. Peel."

Why does she keep…Gabrielle tried to move and her body, which felt taut, tense, and immobile, made a strange, flatulent noise. She looked down the length of her form. She was clad in a tight black leather bodysuit and boots.

…calling me that? She was attired just like Mrs. Peel. "Oh, God," she moaned. She looked at Zina, who was still looking ever so concerned in a restrained, British kinda way.

"So. You must be Steed." Gabrielle ventured the guess nervously.

The tall, dark-haired woman smiled at that. "Verrrry good," she replied with imperial condescension. "Now, do you remember anything else?"

Gabrielle gritted her teeth as she attempted to sit up again, which elicited a protracted farting noise from her leather outfit. This time she was successful. "Like what?"

"Ohhh, let's see," Zina sighed in thought, "The Cybernauts? The Hellfire Club? Castle De'Ath?"

"Uh…yeah. I do." Except I wasn't Mrs. Peel, I was only sitting on the floor in the living room eating Screaming Yellow Zonkers and wishing I were her.

"Encouraging!" replied Zina/Steed.

And they were off, driving through the countryside, drinking champagne, listening to Petula Clark…. Downtown!

She held out her glass for more champagne (and how did Steed manage to pour and drive at the same time?) but when she brought it to her lips there was a telegram inside the glass. "What's this?" she asked.

"Good news, Mrs. Peel. Your husband, Purdy Peel, has been found in the Amazon…"

In an Amazon? Surely not Effie! "My husband? But I—I was never married!" wailed Gabrielle.

"So I'm afraid it's time for all our glamorous adventures to come to an end…"

"They can't!"

"But you must do your duty…"

"No!"

The Bentley entered a tunnel. All was darkness….

….and Gabrielle opened her eyes. She was back home, in the bedroom she shared with Zina, and the tall firefighter was sitting on the bed, watching her with concern. Fortunately, sans the bowler hat.

"Sugar booger!" she cried, sitting up. She flung her arms around Zina.

"Gabrielle! How are you feeling, honey?" Zina gave her girlfriend a squeeze, a kiss on the cheek, and rubbed her back.

"Better. Baby, I had this crazy dream—"

"Didn't I tell you not to eat the Raisinets?"

"I know. But this was different somehow...."

"You mean you have diarrhea this time?"

"No! Zina, listen. I was going through a tunnel, and you know that usually means—"

"Sex!" Zina's sapphire eyes lit up like a gas grill.

"Yeah, but it scared me a little. Like I feel the tunnel represents something else. 'Cause I was afraid to go through it. You know how I hate change…like I was ready to kill you when you got a different kind of toilet paper. But I think this is something serious, something I gotta think about. Like what I'm gonna do with my life. And what everything means. I feel like this dream was trying to impart some important message to me about my life, my writing…but what the bowler hat represented, I have no idea…" Gabrielle trailed off, and so had Zina's infant-like attention span—the baby blues were focused on the switchblade she pulled out of her pocket. With a flick of the wrist, Zina began to pare her nails. Gabrielle cleared her throat loudly. "Honey, do me a favor. Would you get that big book out of the bathroom for me?"

Zina nodded. Still fiddling with the switchblade, she shuffled into the bathroom. Five minutes passed. The toilet flushed. "I don't see anything!" she finally cried.

You damn—"It's under your copy of Guns and Ammo!" Gabrielle yelled.

A pause. "Oh." Zina returned, with a large hardcover tome. It was titled The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols, Signs, and Secret Meanings: Dream Interpretation for Quasi-Feminists. The book had been a Christmas gift from Cyrene. With the book splayed in her lap, Gabrielle flipped pages until she reached this entry, nestled between "Bowl of Oatmeal" and "Butane Lighters":

BOWLER HATS: Traditionally seen as a symbol of male bourgeoisie, the bowler hat takes on subversive meaning in dreams when it is worn by a woman. Its black color represents power, and the round, curvaceous shape calls to mind the feminine form. Nominally the dream figure wearing the hat is seen as powerful, a person whose acceptance of self is something that you strive for.

Gabrielle looked at her companion skeptically. Zina was flipping the switchblade in her hand, then, with a sudden growl and a cry of "Hee-yah!" flung the blade across the room until it landed, bull's eye, in a decrepit dart board. She smirked with pride.

"Zina, I'm having a spiritual crisis kinda thing going on. Least you could do is leave the switchblade alone."

The firefighter blinked and looked at her girlfriend. "Oh. Yeah, sorry, Gabrielle." Like a scolded puppy she returned to the bed.

"Maybe this is why I'm having a writer’s block, too," mused the blonde.

"Don't worry, honey, you'll get your groove back." Zina admired her neatly trimmed nails, then shot Gabrielle a sly, lusty look. "We could have sex—that usually helps you write."

"Yeah, but I usually end up writing epic poems about your thighs. Not that that isn't a worthy subject, but…no. I gotta work this out. It's like a…quest. A spiritual quest, you know?"

"No." No, of course not. For Zina, a spiritual quest would be finding the perfect hunting knife.

"Well, it is. I have to discover who I am, and what my life means, and find inner peace."

They were quiet for a long minute. "I still think sex would help," Zina finally said.

Gabrielle pondered this. "Better safe than sorry." She peeled off her shirt.

3. Anything that Moves

The following day found Gabrielle answering a fateful knock at the door.

She blinked at the tall, dark stranger on the doorstep. "I am looking for Zina." He spoke heavily accented English.

Mentally, Gabrielle pulled out the Zina Ex-Lover Checklist (Male Version):

1. Does he have overstyled facial hair? Yes! Not as weird as Artie's, though.

2. Long and/or dark hair? Uh-huh.

3. Muscular and/or dangerous looking, like he just got out of prison? Absolutely.

4. An obvious death wish? We'll soon find out.

The Male Version of the Checklist did certainly help narrow the field a bit, unlike the Female Version, which was:1. Blonde?She leaned in the doorway. "Okay, man, I got your number. Welcome to Zinaholics Anonymous. I'm Gabrielle, and I can't sponsor you, because I'm a happy addict."

The man scowled at her. "A simple 'hello' would work just as well."

"Who are you?"

This did not erase his look of displeasure. "My name is Boris. I have come to see Zina about…" He paused melodramatically. "…our puppy."

"Puppy?"

"Da. We had puppy together…many years ago."

"A puppy?" Gabrielle gasped. Talk about commitment! Zina never wants us to have a pet! Every time I bring it up…"Too much responsibility, Gabrielle." She stomped over to the foot of the stairs. "Zina!" she roared up into the air. "Get your ass down here now!"

Various curses filtered down from the second floor of the house. "All right, all right, goddammit." A clunk emanating from above indicated that a barbell was threatening to come crashing through the ceiling. Sleek, sweaty, and pumped, Zina trooped down the stairs. And stopped just before hitting the last step. "Boris," she snarled. "I thought you were dead!" Great, another ex for Gabrielle to deal with. I'll never hear the end of it.

He looked blank for a moment, then threw up his arms. "Can't you read? The telegram said Dagnine killed me in the chess tournament. Not in real life, you eeediot!" He shook his head, dismayed, then gave her a less severe scrutiny. "But…Stolichnaya!" he murmured. "You still look fabulous!"

The firefighter ignored this. "What the hell do you want?"

A hurt look crossed his face. "What a greeting! Zeeeeena, I have not seen you for…what? Ten years?"

"Seven."

"I thought that was when you met Julie Caesar," Gabrielle interjected.

"Ummm, maybe five."

"Who is Julie Caesar?" Boris said.

"Maybe it's closer to eight…" Zina mused.

"Or nine," added Gabrielle.

"Maybe I should ask Mom…"

"Zina, every other week your mother thinks it's 1972. I don't think so." Only a few days prior Cyrene had traipsed up to Gabrielle and said, "Hey, man, they're starting this cool thing called Earth Day! Wanna go?"

"Who is this Julie Caesar?" Boris demanded again.

"Look, dickhead, I'm the main squeeze here, not you, so stop acting jealous. Okay, Zina," Gabrielle pointed at Boris, "let's hear all about this one. I'm ready for another long, crude story about your past. I just bought a jumbo-sized tub of potato chips, so I'm set. Spill it."

"Gabrielle, I can't—it's just too damn ugly." There were few things Zina was truly ashamed of doing…but this part of her life, with Boris, was simply too painful and hideous to contemplate. And if she couldn't deal with it…what made Gabrielle think that she could?

"Come on, I know everything else, baby. The drug deals, the stolen cars, setting Callie's house on fire—"

"You set somebody's house on fire?" cried Boris, aghast. The Russian's eyes widened in horror.

"—the shoplifting, picking up a Girl Scout—"

"She told me she was a troop leader!" the firefighter blurted in feeble defense.

"—beating up your parole officer, all the ABBA albums you had—"

"Why won't you admit 'SOS' is a great song?"

"—so the point is, Zina, I know all the bad stuff, so…trust me. I love you. I married you. I wash your t-shirts. Tell me."

"You want the truth? You can handle the truth!" Zina roared.

A stunned silence followed.

The firefighter shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry. I always wanted to say that."

"Tell me," demanded the poet quietly, folding her arms.

The firefighter sighed in defeat, and her beautiful countenance hardened into a spiteful sneer. "You wanna hear about it? All right, Gabrielle, you asked for it…" Her jaw shifted defiantly. "Boris and I were semi-professional ice skaters. We spent years—well, I guess maybe only one—trying to make it big at the Pocatello Ice Follies."

"Pocatello…?" echoed the poet.

"Da," Boris affirmed. "It's a town in that—ahhhh, what do you Americans call your potato state?"

"Idaho," Zina supplied curtly. "Anyway, the Ice Follies….It's like a dry run for the Ice Capades."

Gabrielle backed up away from her beloved, and gripped the arm of the decrepit couch. No. Totally uncool! My big, tough macho dyke girlfriend…a figure skater?

"And we made Tonya Harding look good," Boris added glumly.

"Yeah, Boris is right. We were the worst of the worst. The lowest of the low. I wore a pink chiffon bodysuit. And Boris made Rudy Galindo look butch." The Russian scowled at this. "We performed to 'You Light Up My Life'…"

"And that cute song from Cats. What's it called, Zina?" Boris started to hum "Memory." Without thinking, Zina picked up the melody and did the same.

"STOP!" shrieked Gabrielle. Pink? Ice skating? Debby Boone? Eyes staring blankly, she sank numbly into the depths of the couch.

"Zeeeeena, I think she's in shock," Boris said, waving a hand in front of Gabrielle's glassy, fixed stare.

4. Another Obligatory Flashback

Practice ended badly; a poorly executed triple axle landed Zina on her ass and ripped her costume. Boris was supposed to catch her, but he was not on his mark, where he should have been, but was at the edge of the rink with Alti, their coach, indulging in a prolonged smoke and discussion about various brands of vodka. Furious, she stomped over to her oblivious lover, cold-cocked him (eliciting an evil cackle from Alti in the process), and stalked back to their trailer, which was parked outside the rink

She didn't hit him too hard—he was only unconscious for half an hour—and, as she anticipated, he skulked back to the trailer, apologetic, and they proceeded to make up by screwing frantically under the canopy of the fuzzy, musty panda bear blanket they had bought from Woolworth's a few months ago.

Afterwards, while she snored he threw on a pair of jeans and hunted for another bottle of vodka. Bah! She hid it again! Greedy bitch! He returned to the bedroom, determined to wake her up and find out where the vodka was. However, sitting down beside her, he was overtaken by a moment of tenderness as he watched her sleep. Softly, he called her name. "Zina."

She sputtered, drooled, and grunted. He smiled. How he loved her! Gently, he shook her naked shoulder. "Zina, my beloved. Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul, Zeeeena—"

A bleary blue eye cracked open and glared at him. "We're outta condoms, so don't even think about it."

He laughed merrily. "My darling, your crudeness is so charming. No, I just wanted to tell you…" His dark eyes were solemn. "I think I love you."

Like a cultural Pavlov's dog, all Zina could think about was the Partridge Family. The big yellow bus! Danny Bonaduce! Susan Dey in all her bitchy glory! "I think I'm gonna puke." She rolled over.

"This was not the reaction I had hoped for."

"Too fucking bad."

"It's all this…stress, all this nonsense that's making you act like this." He disregarded the fact that she had always been like this, even when they were trying to open up the Chinese/Tex-Mex restaurant with Lao Ma. He still shuddered involuntarily at the thought of it; he loved her, without a doubt, but he was damned if she didn't have the weirdest ideas when it came to food. And why Lao Ma indulged her…Well, I know why Lao Ma indulged her, he thought darkly, reflecting upon that miserable day when he caught them together. She was just washing my hair, Zina had said, and then we both got all wet, so we took off all our clothes to dry, but there weren't any towels, so we were just rubbing our bodies together—just to get dry!

But oh, Zina, if that's true, then why were you still…so wet? He wanted to cry, the pain of the betrayal was still so fresh. But he forced back the thoughts. "Zina, please," he continued. "I mean it. We could be so happy if we only stopped doing this…crap. Let's face it, neither one of us can skate to save our own lives."

Her body rippled with a sigh.

"You know I'm right," he pushed.

"Yeah, I guess you are," she conceded. "We should talk to Alti later and tell her it's not workin' out. Right now, I wanna sleep."

Unfortunately, a banging commenced upon the semi-sturdy door of the trailer. "Go the fuck away!" Zina shouted, pulling the blanket over her head.

He sighed. Apparently the Big Love Discussion would have to wait as well. He padded over to the door and opened it. It was Alti, a Pall Mall dangling (as always) from her lips, her mascara heavy and smeared, making her look like a cross between an aging Cure fan and an insomniac raccoon. "Boris, is she all right?" She nodded toward the bedroom.

"Is she all right?" he spat, incredulous. "She's the one who hit me!" Furious, he pointed at his swollen nose.

"Whatever," Alti grunted. "Can we come in for a moment?" It was at the mention of "we" that Boris noted a lithe blonde woman, wearing a short coat and a skirt, hovering inconspicuously behind Alti.

He frowned with suspicion. "I guess." He stepped aside to let them in, and

shouted in the direction of the bedroom, "Zina! We got company! Get dressed!"

A minute passed and the sullen Zina sauntered into the main room, wearing black underwear and a tank top.

"Now that's what I call dressed," Alti rasped with approval in her Brenda Vaccaro voice.

Boris, who had pulled on a sweatshirt, folded his arms and scowled. Ignoring them all, Zina headed for the kitchen and returned with a Heineken.

"What, you don't offer our guests anything?" Boris snapped at her.

"Fuck you. What am I, a maid?"

"Why, I ought to—" he raised a hand. She hissed at him.

Alti groaned. "As fascinating as I find this, we need to talk."

"About what?" Zina asked.

"Schedule change. The first performance of the Follies this season is next week at the Shriners' Arena, so we gotta pick up our pace."

"A week?" Boris gasped. "I thought it was in three weeks."

"It was. But the Militia Job Fair is all that week, in downtown Pocatello, so they moved it up to this week."

"Bastards!" snarled Boris.

"Look, Boris, what does it matter?" Zina said impatiently. "We might as well tell her now." She turned to Alti. "We were just talking about this whole thing a few minutes ago. Alti, we're sick of the skating. We're no good at it. So we're quitting."

Rage contorted the visage of the Mascara'ed One. "What? You can't quit! We have an agreement!"

"Screw the agreement," Zina retorted. "I'm not doing it anymore. I'm sick of wearing pink chiffon and skating to Whitney Houston."

"Should I let you pick the music?" Alti growled. "If I did, you would be banging your head on the ice to AC/DC."

Zina groaned. "Look, I just want out."

Alti looked to Boris, who was quiet, his face expressionless. "What do you think, Boris?"

"She speaks for us both," the Russian proclaimed.

"I see," Alti rumbled. She turned her head slightly, catching the attention of the blonde woman, who stepped out from behind the skating coach. "Well, I guess if that's your decision, Zina, then it's done. Oh, by the way, have I introduced you to my…new assistant?"

With a sensual shrug, the Blonde's short jacket fell away, revealing creamy bare shoulders above a halter top, followed by a firm, flat tummy and a short skirt. She pursed her full lips, winked at Zina, and purred a hello.

With delight Alti noted that her star skater's blue eyes were glazed with lust and her jaw shifting with the barely suppressed urge to devour the woman on the spot. So predictable, Zina, the coach thought. She smirked and watched as Boris fumed silently, figurative steam shooting out of his ears like a busy laundromat.

Eyes not moving from the Blonde, Zina groped blindly for her wallet, which was sunk into the pocket of her Levi's, draped on the couch. "Hey, Boris baby, why don't you an' Alti go down to the tavern for a while, have a couple rounds…" Absentmindedly she pulled a twenty from the pocket and tossed it in the general direction of her Russian companion.

Alti intercepted the flying money, and gently grasped Boris's arm, relieved to see that he was not protesting as she steered him toward the door. "We'll talk later about next week. All right, Zina?"

Like a bird of prey in a cocktail lounge, Zina took a few steps toward the Blonde, who tittered. "Sure, Alti, sure."

"See you at practice tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah, go on." Impatiently, she waved her coach away.

With a final shove Alti scooted Boris out the door and closed it behind her. Immediately, in rapid succession, she heard a low growl, a playful shriek, a giddy giggle, and a tortuous moan.

Boris heard it too. Oh great, now I really have to cheer him up, or else he'll spend all evening talking about Dostoevsky. She threw an arm around him. "Come on, Boris. Nothing but Stoli for you," she said. If we can find some in this Godforsaken town.

"Really?" he asked with timid hopefulness and puppy dog eyes.

"Really." Ah, as long as there's no shortage of blondes and vodka….

*****

Gabrielle glanced at the empty bottle of peach schnapps on the kitchen table. After Zina had begun the sad tale of her skating days, Boris had taken over the narrative, trying to explain the hold that Alti, their evil coach, had on them. In the interim Zina had wandered into the living room to watch a football game. It had taken him two hours and the empty bottle of liquor to complete his tale…which, unfortunately, had led into further discourse on the larger theme of the evening: Zina was an Evil Bitch Who Could Not Be Trusted.

He drained his glass of schnapps and slammed it on the table. "I put up with a lot of crap from her. First she dumps me for Lao Ma, then we're back together again and I thought everything was okay, then all of a sudden she's doing this blonde bitch…" A sob escaped him, and Gabrielle, cursing her good nature, found herself patting his arm.

"There there," soothed Gabrielle. "It's all over now, baby blue." Damn Cyrene, making me listen to Dylan over and over and over….

He sniffled into his shirt sleeve. "She'll do the same to you! You're better off without her," he said sullenly.

She stood up to stretch. "Boris, trust me. Zina's not like that anymore. She's a good person now. She's changed. She really has."

"WOO-HOO!!!! BUCKEYES!!!!!" came a scream from the living room. A few seconds later Zina strutted out, cocky and proud. "Goddamn forty-five yard TD! Sonofabitch!" She playfully slapped Gabrielle on the ass, grabbed a Rolling Rock from the fridge, then ambled back to the TV.

"Changed, huh?" Boris grunted.

Gabrielle rubbed her tingly butt and smiled. She hoped the strangely named football team would win, because it would put Zina in a really good mood afterward.

*****

Indeed, the fortunes of Zina's favorite college team held, and Gabrielle awoke the next morning with a sigh that signified blissful satisfaction. She wandered downstairs to find Zina in the kitchen, making one of her "power shakes": raw eggs with Tabasco sauce and seaweed.

"No good morning kiss for you," mumbled the sleepy poet as she padded into the kitchen.

The firefighter unleashed her evil laugh. "That's what you think," she growled happily, and swung Gabrielle up onto the counter, so that she was sitting among cracked eggs and dried bits of ocean gunk. Then Zina's lips fused with her own. And that burning sensation…was that the raven-haired woman's intense passion sizzling against her with tactile abandon, or was it the Tabasco?

Several minutes passed as they engaged in swapping heated spit, but as Gabrielle opened a lazy, lustful eye, movement from the living room, quite visible from her perch on the counter, caught her attention. Intrigued, she pulled away slightly from her partner, only to have the firefighter attach her lips to Gabrielle's neck. "Zina?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Why is Boris still here?"

The dark head flew back. "What?"

Gabrielle nodded toward the living room. "He's in there…" She and Zina peered intently in that direction. "…and he's eating my Cocoa Puffs!" shouted the poet.

"And he's wearing my pajamas!" Zina added with outrage. Disengaging herself from Gabrielle, she stomped into the living room and sat down on the couch beside Boris, who was watching "Donny and Marie" on TV.

"Good morning!" he said.

Fucking bastard. Always a morning person. "Boris, what the hell are you still doing here?"

"Zina, I told you last night…I am not going anywhere until you turn over our puppy." Boris did concede to himself that he could have picked his moment better. It was right after the Buckeyes won and the postgame makeout session was in full swing. ("Yay, Butt-Thighs!" Gabrielle had cried triumphantly as she was chased up the stairs.)

"I don't have our goddamn puppy! And another thing, he's probably a dog by now!"

"He will always be a 'puppy' to me, Natasha," Boris replied, letting slip the pet name he had sometimes called Zina when they were still together. They were Boris and Natasha, out to destroy Moose and Squirrel, and take over the world…."Well," he continued, with an exasperated sigh, "where is he?"

The firefighter stared guiltily into the distance.

"I, uh, gave him to Lao Ma."

He did an abortive Danny Thomas: instead of spewing milk and cereal all over the place, it only dribbled all over his beard. "You gave OUR PUPPY to Lao Ma??? Are you mad?"

She moaned. "Look, I'm sorry. We had broken up, and you left to play chess in Geneva, so…I didn't think I was fit to take care of a dog, Boris…"

"But…Lao Ma??? She probably turned him into a lunch special with an egg roll and choice of soup!"

"Cut that out. That's just some…whaddya call it…urbane legend," she replied nervously, chewing her lower lip. At least it better be, Lao!

"How could you?"

"Believe me, I didn't want to, Boris. I feel bad that I had to."

"Ha!" he shouted. "You felt bad about something. That's only slightly more amazing than the fact that some TV executive thinks that these eeeediots"—he pointed at the mugging Osmonds—"still have careers!"

In the interim Gabrielle had entered the living room; she too was munching

on the ambrosia of the lower classes, Cocoa Puffs. "Hey, who's that dopey guy who looks like Purdy?" she asked, gesturing toward the TV with her dripping, milky spoon.

5. Enter the Dragon

"This is stupid," grumbled Gabrielle, as she followed Zina into the Green Dragon. "Why can't he track down his own damn puppy?"

"Look, it's like a debt I have to repay," Zina muttered as they were underwhelmed by the dim lighting and the Orientalia of the restaurant: blood red and gold tones saturated the murals of Chinese characters and temples, and little figures dancing with giant peaches….

"Debt my ass," retorted the poet.

Just inside they were greeted by the surly visage of Ming Tien, Lao Ma's son, who, as usual, was manning the cash register. His skinny arms were folded over his Sailor Moon t-shirt. He sneered at them, adam's apple bobbing furiously. "Ah, my mother's erstwhile seductress dares to bring shame to our dwelling once again."

Zina snatched up a pair of complimentary chopsticks from a large bowl in front of the register. "I'm telling ya, kid, one of these days…" She mimed jamming the sticks into his head.

"Like I'm sooo afraid of you!" he taunted. She lunged at him and he skittered off his chair, seeking refuge behind Gabrielle.

"Stop it, both of you," Gabrielle chastised them. "Look, Zina, let's get this over with, okay?"

"Is she in the kitchen?" Zina barked at Ming Tien.

"Yeah," he replied, sulking.

The two women walked through the nearly empty restaurant to the kitchen. They found Lao idly stirring a huge cauldron of egg drop soup, which sat next to a metal table covered with a mini-army of little wax paper bags filled with dried noodles. "Ah, Zina. I knew you would come," she murmured with serene confidence.

Lao Ma's mystical side always fascinated the ex-con. "Yeah? How'd you know this time? A vision? Reading tea leaves? A talking eggroll?"

"No. Boris called me."

"Lazy bastard," muttered Gabrielle.

"Your jealous heart reveals itself, Gabrielle. Like a dumpling hiding spinach…soon, the truth is wedged bitterly between one's teeth."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

"Lao, baby," Zina began, folding her arms so that her supple biceps were highlighted, then tossing her black hair and grinning seductively, "you'll remember a few years back I gave you a puppy…"

"Ah, yes. A most unexpected gesture. Touching and beautiful."

"Thanks, Lao."

"Until you demanded money for the wretched creature."

"I just thought of that as a loan. Anyway, Lao, honey..." Zina stretched to emphasize her broad shoulders and perfectly rounded breasts. Lao's stirring of the egg drop soup grew agitated. And Gabrielle's blood simmered hotter than the most potent of Tabasco sauces.

"...I need the dog back. I'll buy him from you, even."

"Yes, I know. That's what Boris was calling about. He said he was sending you over, and that you would either seduce me or kill me for the dog."

"You know Boris. Loves to exaggerate. 'Cause if I kill anyone, it would be that bratty kid of yours."

Lao Ma sighed. "Ming Tien is so misunderstood....you see, I had to get rid of the dog for him."

"Whaaaaat?" Zina asked, with a growl building in her throat.

"Ming was the allergic to the animal. And it kept attacking him. So I took it to the local animal shelter."

"Attacking?" echoed Zina. "Lao, it's a dachshund, for Christ's sake."

"They have many sharp little teeth..."

"Yeah," drawled Gabrielle facetiously, "who can resist the raging dachshund?"

Lao Ma's cool eyes flickered to the angry poet. "A sarcastic bitch is like a Barbra Streisand CD: It yields unpleasantness for all within hearing range."

"Oh, yeah? Well, a bitch who drowns in a pot of egg drop soup is like…"

Zina and Lao watched, with anticipation, as Gabrielle struggled to find a metaphor. Both women raised eyebrows.

"…like….like…a bitch who drowns in a pot of egg drop soup!" In sheer frustration, Gabrielle kicked at the stove. Poor baby, Zina thought, she really is blocked.

A flicker of alarm crossed Lao Ma's face. "Gabrielle, do not kick my stove. Unless you want to find extra MSG in your next Szechuan Chicken." She turned to Zina. "Please, remove your dangerous girlfriend from the premises."

"C'mon, baby, let's go," Zina tugged gently on her companion's arm.

"Don't you threaten me with acronyms, you!" roared Gabrielle.

With a sigh, Zina flung the poet over a broad shoulder and exited the Green Dragon.

6. Of Pussies and Puppies

When Boris was not contentedly watching Sally Jessy Raphael, he pondered his ex-lover, Zina. It amazed him to see her so utterly under the thumb of this little blonde person, Gabrielle. The dark, dangerous woman who excited him so, who defied the law and good taste, well, she was now…what do they call it? Ah…pussy-whipped!

Now she knows what it's like, he thought spitefully.

The door of the farmhouse burst open, interrupting any further Russian ruminations. Zina stomped in, with Gabrielle on her heels.

"Did you have to hit the guy at the pound?" the strawberry blonde was complaining.

"Don't you give me any lectures, missy! You were about ready to cold cock Lao Ma at the restaurant!" the firefighter retorted angrily.

"Well, the difference here is that I didn't hit anyone, Zina. Besides, Lao Ma is a bitch."

"You're jealous."

"And you're practically homicidal!"

"I know I am! I've admitted it, Gabrielle! Whaddya want me to do, tell the world I'm gay? I'M GAY! I'M GAY!" Zina shouted to the heavens.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes in defeat. It's not even worth telling her.

"And you…you're a fine one to talk about us being homo-cidal. You haven't even told your parents yet!"

The poet flushed. "They're not ready to know!"

Boris decided that the ridiculous bickering had gone far enough, and it was time for a man—a force of reason—to intervene. "Did anyone bring 7-Up?" he asked calmly. "We're all out."

The two women stared at him. "What the hell are you still doing here?" Zina snarled.

"Zina, I told you…"

"Yeah, yeah, the dog. Well, I got news for you, Boris. The dog is in the pound and they won't let me have 'em unless I pay $1000."

The Russian's dark eyes swelled with emotion. "A thousand—but, they can't do that! Why is it so much money?"

"It's some stupid county law," Gabrielle said. "Zina was registered as the dog's owner, and since she 'abandoned' him and he ended up in the pound…well, they're fining her. It's a misdemeanor."

"Miss Demeanor? I once knew a drag gentleman by that name."

"Drag queen," Gabrielle corrected.

"Da." Boris looked over at Zina, who was slumped in the recliner, looking defeated. He squirmed—instinct told him something else was wrong. "What?" he prompted.

Gabrielle bit her lip nervously. "It's also a violation of Zina's parole, and if we don't pay the fine she'll go to jail."

Zina tried to convey indifference with a shrug. "I don't have that kinda money," the firefighter muttered. Damn. And I swore I would never go back….All the money they recovered from the sales of Barbecue Salsa Mayonnaise was gone, spent on their vacation and on fixing a dent in the Impala—Gabrielle's lone attempt at driving the fabled car having gone seriously awry when she accidentally ran over Crassus, one of Julie Caesar's dogs. The contrite poet had cried a river of tears on Zina's Black Sabbath t-shirt, but had eagerly agreed to the firefighter's plan to bury the dog in Farmer Draco's backyard and not tell Julie.

"I don't either, Zina," Boris implored, "but if we don't pay the money…they kill him."

"And you'll go to jail," Gabrielle added softly.

"Maybe they should just kill me and send the dog to prison," Zina grumbled darkly.

"Can they do that here?" asked the Russian, a mite too eagerly.

7. You Don't Need Pants for the Victory Dance

Gabrielle found the prospect of connubial visits at Shark Island Correctional Facility quite unappealing, and quickly decided upon the best approach to earning quick cash to keep her beloved out of the pen: She applied for employment at the Shimmy Shack.

Sid Moskowitz, the chubby, engaging proprietor of said establishment, was quite pleased when Gabrielle called him to inquire of job opportunities. Sid had an eye for natural talent, and ever since he had spotted Gabrielle in the supermarket, wearing Daisy Dukes and bending over to pick up a rather large box of detergent, he knew her assets would do well on his stage.

Nervously, Gabrielle walked into the dark, empty club. In the light of day, such an institution is rather like a gutted animal—hollow, smelly, dark, and dead. Nonetheless, Sid's cheery disposition did its best to dispel this impression. "Hiya, sweet pea!" Sid greeted her happily. "Glad you came!"

"Hi, Sid."

"How's that old psycho girlfriend of yours, baby?"

"She's fine."

"Yeah," he sighed wistfully. "I still remember the first time I met her. She was dealing dope in my club and I had her kicked out…later that same night, when I was closing up, she beat the crap out of me." He smiled nostalgically. "The very next day, I hired her as a bouncer. She was the best ever. I've never seen anyone inflict pain and humiliation the way she did!" Tears welled up in his eyes.

"That's a beautiful story, Sid. It gets more beautiful every time you tell it."

"Yeah." He moaned. "Ach, such memories! Now, honeycakes, before we get in too deep here….Zina does know about this, doesn't she?"

The blonde twitched. "Well, not yet. But I swear, Sid, she'll be cool with it. I mean, I'm doing it for her. We need the money to pay off all these fines and stuff about the dog."

"Yeah. Poor Killer."

"Killer?"

"That's the dachshund, sweet cheeks."

Gabrielle shook her head sadly. No wonder they never call him by his name. "It figures," she muttered.

"Okay, angel muffin, shall we get on with the interview?"

"Sure." Gabrielle slipped out of the long raincoat she was wearing, revealing a body clad in a lovely two-piece bikini.

Sid sucked in as much air as he could, as several blood vessels in his head threatened to burst. Having done so, he found himself unable to exhale—he was afraid that if he did so, this woman of sheer perfection might vanish. Or simply run away at the smell of his breath.

"Well?" demanded the poet impatiently, hands on hips.

"Are you kidding, honey?" he wheezed. "Just looking at you takes five years off my life span."

8. Benefits of the Missionary Position

The ritual began.

The lights were dimmed, candles were lit, and empty cans of Rolling Rock were lined up on the floor. Mentally, Zina counted them again. Twenty-four. Yes, that should do nicely. As usual, Gabrielle had requested that Zina play the softest music she had, which, unfortunately, was a tape of Joni Mitchell's Blue that Cyrene had left behind one evening. As the guitars tinkled gently and Joni mumbled something about the wind from Africa, Gabrielle entered. She sat on the bare floor near the cans and assumed the lotus position, while Zina wished that she were watching women's volleyball on ESPN. It wasn't that she really minded helping her girlfriend, once everything got started, but getting there just took so long. The firefighter suppressed a sigh….

…But apparently not well enough. A green eye opened and peered at her in annoyance.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She stretched out along the floor, waiting.

A few minutes passed while Gabrielle continued to meditate. The firefighter was about ready to fall asleep when the poet announced quietly, "I'm ready." The blonde unfurled her body from the yoga position and laid down on her back.

Zina, on her knees, loomed over her beloved. She reached for the first beer can. "Okay." Gently, she placed the can on its side against Gabrielle's bare midriff. It sat there precipitously, its green sheen merely the reflected glory of the poet’s eyes, until the young woman's body jackknifed with amazing speed and power….Zina had seen it happen many times, but it never failed to amaze her: The can was now flatter than the topography of Kansas.

"The Amazing Abs," Zina whispered in reverence. She removed the flattened can.

Gabrielle smiled proudly. "Plus the recycling people love me!" she crowed. "Next!"

Zina placed the second can on the poet's tummy. "Can't wait to see you at the club tomorrow night."

Crunch! "I'm really nervous, baby. I'm so glad you'll be there." Another innocent Rolling Rock can was placed in the abs of death. "I still can't believe"—Crunch! —"you're cool with this. I thought you'd be all pissed and everything."

"Are you crazy? It's like the dream of every red-blooded American dyke. To have a girlfriend who is an exotic dancer! I can go up to any slob in the crowd while they watch you dance, point at you, and say, 'That's my chick, man.' Ha!" she cackled in triumph.

"You're so fucked up," concluded Gabrielle with a sigh. Crunch!

"But you love me anyway," retorted Zina smugly.

"Like the way I love pork rinds: I know they’re bad, but I just can’t resist." The poet affirmed this with another crunch.

Zina pondered this. "That’ll do," she observed, as she selected another can. 9. Thanks for the Mammaries

Sid leaned against a wall in the club. He plucked at his black polyester shirt, which shimmered in the low light, and sighed. She simply isn't getting it, he thought. Such potential—I mean, oy! That body! But…. He had spent the last half an hour watching Gabrielle dance, or do something resembling dancing, and it was about as erotic as watching a spastic have a fit. He stopped the tape deck, and ZZ Top's "Gimme All Your Lovin'" once again died in an abrupt fashion, which mirrored the disjointed style of his private dancer. As silence filled the room, the young woman stumbled in her heels and fell onto her ass. She looked up at Sid helplessly.

"Sweet cheeks," he began warily, "hasn't Zina ever asked you to shake your titties, eh?"

Gabrielle blinked. "What the hell kind of question is that?" she asked, irritated. "It's none of your damn business." Carefully she stood up, hoping that no part of her skimpy bikini was askance; I'm not showing flesh until the meter starts running, she thought.

"Honey thighs, the name of this joint is the Shimmy Shack. You don't have to be goddamn Ginger Rogers to dance here, but…you need to shimmy. You need to shake it up. C'mon, stick 'em out, and vibrate. And later….when you latch onto that pole, you gotta hump it like hell. Okay?"

She stared at the dismal aluminum pole stuck in the middle of the stage. "But…it's a pole."

Sid sighed again, in utter exasperation. "Babycakes, aren't you a writer or somethin'?"

Gabrielle nodded furiously. "Do you need me to write—"

"No, I don't need you to write anything. All I'm saying is—use your imagination. Pretend that pole is Zina's thigh. Pretend all the guys you're dancing for are, like, a big lesbian soccer team or something."

The poet frowned skeptically.

"All right, a big, smelly, drunk lesbian soccer team."

Gabrielle's frown deepened. "All right, Sid. I'll do my best."

Sid smiled; he wasn't buying it. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm sorry you're having a rough time with this. Maybe Natalie can help you."

"Who's Natalie?"

"My best dancer, baby. Look, take a load off, go back in the dressing room. She'll be here soon."

*****

So Gabrielle went back into the bowels of the club, into the tiny dressing room she was to share with about three or four other women. She pulled on her t-shirt—the chilly air had made her nipples so erect and prominent that they could hail a taxi of their own accord. She sat down in front of a mirror. Scattered on the table in front of her were various accouterments of femininity: lipstick, rouge, baby powder, eyeliner, tampons …and a book. She picked it up, curiously—it was entitled A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan.

As she started to page through the book, someone quietly entered the room.

"It's a great book," said a woman's voice.

Surprised, Gabrielle gave a little jump, then turned around. A woman with short blonde hair stood in the doorway, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. Red alert! Red alert! Lesbian in the vicinity! Gabrielle's gaydar screamed. Nervously, the poet placed the book back where she found it. "Was this your book?" she asked the woman. "Sorry, just curious."

"No, no, it's all right," replied the woman. "It's nice to have someone around who's interested in the same thing." She walked over to Gabrielle and offered a hand. "Hi, I'm Natalie. Sid said I'd find you back here." Natalie's grasp was warm and tingly; Gabrielle felt a thumb brush lazily over the veins in the back of her hand. She squirmed slightly, partly uncomfortable and partly…aroused. "Gabrielle, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me." Natalie wouldn't let go of her hand. With a little tug, she finally reclaimed it.

"Cool. Sid said you're a student at the community college."

"I'm majoring in English."

"Wonderful! I used to teach there, you know."

Gabrielle brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah. I taught ethics. But then they got rid of the philosophy department. Cheap bastards. So I'm reduced to doing…this." Natalie waved her hand around the dismal dressing room.

"Sorry."

Natalie unleashed a dazzling smile. "Well, it's certainly not your fault." She began to strip rapidly, tossing her clothes over a lonely chair and revealing a thin, bikini clad form. "Okay, I guess I should show you some moves, like Sid said."

"Uh, sure, that'd be great. And, um, maybe afterward you can tell me all about this book," Gabrielle replied, picking up the Carlos Castaneda tome again.

"Oh, I'd love to!" responded the blonde stripper enthusiastically. She knelt down in front of Gabrielle, between the young poet's legs, and gazed at her with shining eyes. What the hell is she on? Gabrielle wondered, all the while fighting the delicious chills that turned her thighs all goose-pimply. "It's such a wonderful book. One of my favorites. It helps you see the world in a totally different way…"

*****

The blue Volkwagen sputtered to a halt in front of the Shimmy Shack. Cyrene took the keys out of the ignition, and looked over at her daughter, whose knees were pressed uncomfortably against the dash; she had forgotten that cramming Zina in her tiny VW bug was like putting Michael Jordan on a tricycle: It was not a good fit.

"Y'know, this is the kind of place I used to picket in the 70s, Zina," Cyrene grumbled.

"Look, Mom, don't start. She's just doing it for the money." Zina's muscular forearms were folded. While the firefighter was quite happy to show off her lover's body to the world, she was rather concerned that the look, don't touch policy firmly entrenched in her mind—and echoed by Sid's frequent admonitions to the crowd—would fall apart within the reality of the Shimmy Shack. She had been a bouncer too long at the dump to think otherwise. It made her tense. And a tense Zina was a hairsbreadth away from punching out anyone who dared annoy her.

Cyrene sighed. "You owe me for this, honey."

"The White Russians are on me, Mom."

*****

"I-I think I'm getting stage fright," Gabrielle stammered.

"I think you're just nauseous from eating three Snickers bars," Sid rumbled at her.

They were standing backstage. Natalie was on, dancing to "You Spin Me Right Round (Like a Record)."

"Oh shit, Sid…what if I bomb?"

"Honey, you're not gonna bomb. Just remember, you got the bod. You're halfway there. Shimmy the T, wiggle the A, hump the pole, and you'll be fine."

Wild applause and wolf whistles followed the sweaty Natalie as she left the stage. The number of $20 bills stuffed down the enticing pouch of her g-string made her look like she was packing in an odd kind of way. "Whew!" she said to Sid and Gabrielle, pushing damp strands of her blonde hair away from her face. "Those boys are primed now. They'd go nuts even if Shelley Winters went out there and danced."

Gabrielle gave a look of despair.

"Aw, Gabrielle! I'm just kidding!" Natalie hugged her impulsively. In her nervous state, having an attractive sweaty female body rubbing up against her own was almost too much. Almost. Natalie pulled away and all parties present noticed that the poet's nipples were harder than bullets.

"Well, somebody's ready to perform," Sid noted wryly. He patted her behind—Gabrielle resisted the urge to deck him—and headed onto the stage, in order to announce her.

"Just remember your mantra, Gabrielle," Natalie reminded her.

The young blonde nodded. "Yeah…shimmy the T, wiggle the A, hump the pole…" she mumbled.

"Actually I meant the other one we came up with. You know, your personal one: 'love, pop-tarts, and peace.' "

"Oh. Right. But hey, Natalie, like, aren't you supposed to not say it out loud?"

"Aw, shit!" the former professor winced.

"Gentlemen, we have a new performer tonight…I'd like you to give a warm welcome to…GABRIELLE!"

The poet stumbled toward the stage, and hesitated; her nerves felt so exposed that she imagined them—and not her body—bathed in lurid swaths of multicolored stage lights.

"Go toward the light!" Natalie shouted.

And which fucking light was that?

*****

"Wow, man, that was awesome," Cyrene babbled as she and Zina wound their way through dark hallways to the dressing room. "I mean, I never knew that she was so—" Cyrene's hands cupped imaginary breasts.

"Mom, shut the fuck up. You are seriously freaking me out," Zina retorted, while pondering the closed door in front of her. Her blood seethed with lust…who knew Gabrielle could dance so seductively? Zina had only ever witnessed the pogo-like maneuvers of the poet as she did the "Blitzkrieg Bop" to her favorite Ramones song. But now, she wanted nothing more than do ravish her companion…after that.

She kicked open the door. Cyrene rolled her eyes. Drama queen.

Zina's baby blues were greeted by the sight of Natalie painting Gabrielle's toenails while the poet pored over the Castaneda book. She did not miss the adoring look that the strange blonde woman was giving to her scantily-clad girlfriend, even though Gabrielle was clearly clueless to the attentions of the ex-professor. Indeed, if Oblivion were a town, Gabrielle would be mayor.

Nonetheless, at the startling sound of the door bursting open, both women turned their attention to the dark-haired firefighter.

"Baby!" Gabrielle squealed. "What did ya think?" She jumped up and ran over to Zina. The furious exchange of saliva prompted Natalie to read the label on the bottle of Dangerous Pomegranate nail polish and Cyrene to examine a selection of tassels hanging from the wall.

Zina broke off the kiss. "You were fantastic, baby. The best ever."

"Thanks…hey, I made almost $25 in tips!" she pointed to the bureau, littered with crumpled currency.

"That's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, I can't believe it…couple more weeks, we should have your fine paid off."

"Er, Gabrielle, why don't you introduce me to your—partner?" Natalie piped up unctuously.

" 'Partner?' " echoed Zina. "We don't work together. We sleep together."

She glowered at Natalie.

"Oh, uh, Zina, this is Natalie…she, uh, used to teach at Olympus." Nervously, Gabrielle looked from one woman to the other. Her new "mentor" and her beloved were not getting on well at all. "Honey, Natalie taught me how to dance. Ain't it great?"

Zina arched an eyebrow. Natalie smirked. "Yeah, great," muttered the firefighter.

"Well, I'm off…" said the blonde stripper breezily. She sailed past the three women, giving Gabrielle a wink. "See you tomorrow, Gabrielle." And she was gone.

Gabrielle disentangled herself from Zina. "You coulda been nicer, you know," she chastised sullenly, as she slipped on a t-shirt.

"I never said I was a nice person," Zina shot back.

In the interim, Cyrene had noticed the book lying on the bureau. She picked it up. "Oh man!" she cackled. "I haven't seen this used as a seduction technique since 1972!"

"Whaddya mean, seduction?" snarled Zina. Her blue eyes snapped to Gabrielle. Who looked away.

"Don't be silly, Cyrene," scoffed Gabrielle. "Excuse me, I have to go see Sid about my schedule for next week." With a cultivated, haughty air borne of careful examination of Joan Collins in Dynasty, the exotic dancer left the room.

Zina half-leaned, half-sat against the makeup table, looking defeated. "Shit, Mom."

Ah, my articulate child. "Look, honey, who knows what this chick is all about. But I'm sure Gabrielle is happy with you…and doesn't want to look elsewhere."

"I'm not so sure," mumbled the firefighter. "Maybe she needs to be with someone…like that. You know, who reads and stuff. Who understands poetry."

"…And who doesn't sit in an open pot of rouge." Cyrene concluded, nodding at Zina's behind. Zina jumped up, cursing. Her mother patted her arm affectionately. "I'll wait outside, in the car." The older woman ambled out the door.

*****

After confirming her schedule with Sid for the following week, Gabrielle was about to return to her dressing room when she was intercepted at the bar.

"Sweetie!" shrieked Chad, her fellow homo student at OCCC. He hugged Gabrielle. "You were fabulous!" Gabrielle was relieved to note that Chad wore no incendiary t-shirts, like I'M NOT GAY BUT MY ACADEMIC ADVISOR IS (an advertisement actually true). Although sporting a lilac-colored Ralph Lauren Polo shirt among the Shimmy Shack crowd was asking to be noticed.

"Aw, Chad, you came! I'm really glad."

"Oh, mary…" He took her face in his hands. "You have no idea how many screwdrivers I had to get through this…"

Vodka-influenced breath wafted over her. She blanched. "Yes, Chad. Yes I do."

"But Good God, Gab. I didn't know Natalie Hood was strutting her stuff here too."

"Hey, so you know her?"

Chad's eyes widened. "Oh yeah…man, I'm so glad they fired her."

"Fired? She told me they closed the philosophy department."

"Oh. that little liar!" Chad exclaimed petulantly. "No, she was canned for sexual harassment. She would pick a student she liked, and try to seduce them. You know, say she'd give them a higher grade." His thin lips trembled. "She even tried it with me once!"

"Duh, can't she tell you're gay?"

"That's what I said!" Chad wailed.

Gabrielle frowned in thought. Maybe Zina was right not to be suspicious of her. I mean, the big dope is right about some things…I should give her more credit. "Chad, I gotta go…I have to finish dressing" –the collective eyes of the bar were devouring her bikini'ed bottom, making her nervous—"and Zina's waiting for me."

" 'Kay, sweetie…Tell Zina I said hi, and that I want a date with a firefighter real soon."

When Gabrielle returned to the dressing room, Zina was swatting her Levi-clad butt with a towel.

"Baby, what the hell are you doing?"

"I got…stuff on my ass." Upon closer examination, the poet saw that some reddish powder clung to the denim. She chuckled. Zina scowled.

"I swear, you're like a big kid sometimes…" Gabrielle took the towel from her companion's hands. She dampened a corner with some bottled water left behind by Natalie, then successfully removed the powder. "Maybe this'll teach you not to sit on things a body shouldn't be sitting on."

"Yeah, right," grumbled Zina.

They were quiet for almost a minute.

"Do you…like her?" prompted the firefighter quietly. To mask her nervousness—which only emphasized it even more—she toyed with a stray cosmetic applicator…what it was exactly, she had no frigging idea.

"Who? Natalie?"

"Well, yeah."

Gabrielle shrugged. "I guess I did at first. I thought she was kinda cool…"

"And you thought she was cute."

" Yeah, she's cute…but so what? I just saw Chad outside, and he told me she's really an asshole."

"Really?" Zina frowned. "I had a bad feeling about her."

"You were right, honey. I'm sorry." The poet wrapped her arms around Zina's waist and propped her chin on the firefighter's broad shoulder. "So, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you jealous or anything. I love you, you big jerk."

Zina grinned. "And I love you too, you little bitch." She exhaled with relief. "Wow…so I was right about her, huh?" Gabrielle nodded. "I'm glad I'm right about something."

"You have good instincts, Zina. Except about your own strength."

"Huh?"

Gabrielle nodded at Zina's hand. Which was covered in inky black stuff. "You just crushed my eyeliner."

*****

Three weeks passed and the appropriate funds were procured, upon which Killer was sprung from the pound. Now, Boris was sprawled happily in the backyard with his dog. "There's my boy," he cooed, as Killer charged at him, the dachshund's ears flopping merrily.

"Your move," Zina grunted. The firefighter sat at the picnic table, where a chessboard lay before her. She had spent 20 minutes pondering how to put Boris into check. Having failed this particular objective, she opted for rearranging some of his pieces.

With a sigh, Boris stood up and returned to their chess match. Tomorrow he was off to Brussels for another tournament, with Killer in tow, and had decided to get in some practice with Zina before leaving. She was a good player, he admitted to himself, but her endgame was a weakness: She would grow impatient and then, ultimately, lose.

He sat down in front of the board and frowned, glaring at her. She simpered. He restored his knight and queen to their original positions.

Meanwhile, inside the farmhouse, Gabrielle was fending off Sid's advances, such as they were: "But, honey tits, are you sure you wanna hang up your G-string? You're my most popular dancer now!" the club owner protested as he stood in the kitchen and watched the lovely blonde make chocolate chip cookies.

"It's tempting, Sid…"

"I'll say."

Gabrielle stopped mixing cookie dough. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded.

"I got a good look at that car of yours. Oy, baby. An Escort? And it's gotta be rustier than Jesse Helms's dick."

A new car would be nice…Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

Sid stroked his beard thoughtfully. He knew she was tempted. He decided to try another offer. "Look, sweetie, you know…I make movies too." He sidled up next to her. "And the money for that is even bigger than the dancing!" he whispered gleefully.

Gabrielle dropped her wooden spoon, covered in yummy cookie dough gunk. "You want me to be in porno?" she sputtered.

"Baby lamb, just one film will net you close to ten thou. You could buy yourself a Saturn, for God's sake!"

Her expression remained doubtful.

Damn. I almost had her. "Look, Gab, it's not really porno. It's erotica. There's a difference, y'know. Smart girl like you should know that." Still, she looked less than convinced as she rinsed off the wooden spoon. "This film that I want you to be in…it's ground-breaking, sugar cake. It really is. I can honestly say that there is no other film like it in existence. It touches me on a deep, religious level—in fact, I consider it a service to my people, because it's the first of its kind." Her green eyes fluttered with intrigue. He grinned. "You wanna know what it is?" he said eagerly.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, caught up in his enthusiasm.

"The first ever Orthodox Jewish erotic film: Rabbi or Not, Here I Come."

Gabrielle groaned. "Jesus, Sid."

"Now that's one personage who will not be in this film." She shook her head and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. "Come on, Hasidim deserve to have lively sex lives too, you know."

Through the back door Gabrielle saw a flash of movement: It was Zina, pinning Boris to the ground and trying to jam a rook into his ear. "Poor baby, she lost again," the poet murmured.

Sid noticed this too. "Ah, good old Zina. Making the world a little more dangerous," he sighed appreciatively.

"Yep, good old Zina," Gabrielle agreed happily.

"Who's that fine-looking fellow, babycakes? I think he would make a good rabbi."

Gabrielle flung open the back door. "Zina! Boris! Both of you knock it off, or no cookies!"

"She started it!" shouted Boris.

Zina sulked from her position, sitting on Boris's chest. Angrily he slapped her muscular thigh. "Get off me, you eeediot! I want cookies!"

She raised an eyebrow in disdain, and stood up.

Sid bustled past Gabrielle. "Zina, baby, what do you think of your girlfriend starring in a porn movie of her own? Eh?"

The blue eyes froze. Sid raised his hands in hapless self-defense. "But sugar lump, I got this great idea...maybe you could play the rabbi who seduces Gabrielle..." Sid brightened at his own idea. "This is great," he murmured to himself. "It increases the kink factor!"

"Rabbi?" Both dark eyebrows lifted, and a strange expression came over Zina's lovely face. With a shock, Gabrielle realized her lover was...thinking.

"Zina!" she cried. "You can't be serious!"

"Well, why not? You were real good in that home video we made—"

From his position on the ground, Boris nodded vigorously. "I agree! It was a wonderful performance!"

The blonde poet went pale. "You showed him...the tape?" Many months ago, a rainy Sunday and a borrowed video camera had yielded a long-playing tape filled with about five hours of frenetic sex, fifteen minutes of arguing, twenty minutes of eating pizza, and twenty-five minutes of Gabrielle napping and snoring between orgasms.

"Well, when Hank and Effie saw it they both thought that you were faking it in that one scene, you know, the one with the"—the firefighter made a vague hand gesture which could have represented anything from a kumquat to a plastic water gun—"and Ed wasn't sure, so I wanted another opinion..."

"For myself, I must say I was very convinced!" Boris declared solemnly. "A scream like that, it comes from the heart. Or someplace, um, similar."

"That’s what Mom said too." Zina replied, feeling affirmed.

Sid, hands on hips, whined, "Now why haven't I seen this?"

Zina recognized the fury in her companion's green eyes and, throwing down the gauntlet of a shit-eating grin, took off running.

"Oh, you better run!" Gabrielle shouted after her. "'Cause someone's gonna be on the receiving end of the strap-on tonight, and it ain't me, missy!" Which is probably exactly what she wants anyway. As she dashed into the twilight, leaving the menfolk alone with the cookie dough, Gabrielle felt her anger dissipate as she followed the unmistakable laughter of the firefighter.

THE END 

[befooled]

if my dad owned a gun, i’d be dead tonight. we have this little indoor balcony for the upstairs that overlooks the living room and i just keep imagining tying something around my neck and jumping over the railing of the balcony

that would be so shitty for my dad or sister to walk in on tho. i mean, it’d also be shitty for them to find me and my brain goop splattered across the room. but at least with a gun i could go somewhere else maybe, like the viewpoint i love so much. out in nature, let the wildlife eat my body

my dad was laid off from work recently, and that means my insurance is gone again. i had it for about two months, which was spent trying to get ahold of the mental help and then waiting for my one (1) appointment. i am the worst ive been in a long long time and having therapy was the one thing keeping me rational and not-scared. but now its gone again, for who knows how long

but when i did have it, and i went to the singular appointment, my therapist told me to try and be the “rational friend” when im having these episodes. “what would you tell your friend if they were in your position?” and first of all, i get the point is to help myself, but it sucks that i dont have a friend to help me right now. i mean how could anyone rly help me, aside from a professional? that feels shitty. second of all, i’d tell this friend that life sucks and give them a hug. but again, no one is here. no friends around, talking doesnt help anymore, i feel and look like shit, not even strangers on tinder want to come fuck me. how could anyone make me feel better ???? ahhaha

and im being an asshole obv, im so angry and sad and lonely and careless. projecting my feelings, i want to be mean but then i instantly regret it. i dont understand why im alive anymore. no one can tolerate me for more than a week, if even that. im a fat, ugly slob who refuses to get a job and does so poorly in school. i draw the same shit everyone else draws except miles below in skill, im boring as hell and dont bring anything to conversation. im doing nothing to help the world, and even if i desperately wanted to, i have no real way to. so????? why am i even fucking here?? dont answer that because i just want to die

i want to delete all of my social media platforms too because it just makes me want to whine and cry on all of them about how i want to die ahhahah and this is so annoying?? im sorry to anyone who has even bothered to read to this point. i wanted to write all this in my journal, but i know if i kept it where no one could actually see it, then it would make me crazy and i would cut myself. which ill prob end up doing anyway. im thinking of hospitalizing myself, or maybe the suicide hotline. but the phone calls make me anxious and every time i try online hotline, theres a wait line

ive noticed a bunch of suicide lately too on the news, i wonder if it’s the season

[survivor-ingary]

Episode 2 - "I DON'T WANT THE MYSTERY MOUSE-CA-TOOL BESTIE" - Ellie

At the tribal, Ping was voted out of the Pendragon Tribe nearly unamimously. Tribal immunity for this round is Pictionary.

I bet all these bitches know i voted for Keith and now they are going to come kill me in my sleep if i die i blame dylan

yass round 2 i either think im in the best position on this tribe or theyre all secretly coming for me thats all

Tribal went as well as I expected it to go. No major drama. It seems like Keith is in real trouble if we do go to tribal again though which would put me in a very tricky spot. For now, though, I will be trying my best in the upcoming challenge. The problem is, however, timezones and schedules. Jon is going to be our drawer, but he can only do it tonight or in the early afternoon tomorrow which I will not be there for. Additionally, Keith is asleep so we have no idea what his schedule is going to be so we basically had to schedule the challenge without him. And Nya could only do right before the deadline tomorrow which Jon cannot do. I hate this for us, truly. I just hope that Moth and I can rub our brain cells together for this one so that we can pull out a win. OR somehow the other tribes fail horribly. On the bright side, I am finally starting to catch up on Duolingo exercises. They're a lot easier than I thought, but it is still going to be tedious af to save up enough coins for some of the higher end products at the shop. As a final note, I am going to work with Nya in the long term as we promised each other to. Hopefully that actually works out. Time to actually be loyal and be a hero this time around. Need to try something different.

If we lose this challenge, I will be very upset. We went so hard on this challenge!!! I believe that we can at least get second place, but I don't know how crazy the other tribes are. So, let's see what goes on

Ayyyyy soooooooo looks like the four, Colin, me, Ava, and Brayden are officially in an alliance!? I’m really hyped to be working with everybody and already have sights on who should go if we have to go to tribal 👀 but like I’m gonna feel so bad if we go to tribal and I orchestrate a whole plan to take someone out I gotta do it when I’m not in my feels and the planets aren’t fucking with my emotions too heavy. But go alliance ! This means I’ll be able to stay safe until hopefully a merge and hopefully we can avoid a tribe swap till then which I get those vibe from it !! But I’ll be here to survive two more tribals just in case which is pretty rad. Other then that hopefully me offering to draw doesn’t end us up in the bottom and we can keep killing ! But anyways that is it as off know hopefully I have a lot more coins tomorrow morning and I get hit the hat shop bright and motherfucking early.

Just got asked to be apart of an alliance <33333 the besties in the group trust me which maybe ain't the right move but for now we gotta love the bonding. exciting!!!

YAY FOR ROUND 2! Okay, so I meet once again with the Hat Shop and... third times the charm! Except,,, the charm is getting nothing AGAIN lmao I'm not complaining though, still got that extra vote :P I stayed up at 1 AM for this challenge, and I honestly think our team popped off. Anastasia was guessing a ton, and Riley was amazing at drawing real quick! I have a relatively good feeling about our performance, so I hope I wake up to the news of our tribe being immune :D

so yesterday I set myself on a mission to get an alliance. I wanted Ava + Brayden + Toph + me as a majority alliance. it was our day off from tribal so I thought it was the perfect day to do it!! I talked to Brayden about it first because he's the person I feel the most comfortable with, and then after a lot of coordination and careful communication I was able to pull it together!! I think the most important thing when making alliances is making everyone feel like they're a big part in it. So I was careful to ask each person how they feel about the others, about the game, and made a point to say that I wanted to work with them specifically. Some may call that a little manipulative, but I wanna make sure that I'm an essential part of the alliance!! i need everyone to feel like they need/want me there.

all of this happening so soon into the game is a testament to how aggressive I'm playing this time around. I usually like to lay low and just rely solely on my social game in the start, but I'm trying this out to establish myself early on! I wanted to play the tribe leader and I think I'm doing that in a smart and subtle way!!

so yes now we have a 4 person majority alliance named "duolingo owl hate club" because fuck that guy. I think we're the 4 most active and present people on the tribe so it's only natural for us to work together, but I think it's definitely worth noting that I was the one that was pulling the strings here.

We just did the pictionary challenge, I have a good feeling about it!! Toph was an amazing artist, and if we win, all credit rightfully goes to him!! I think the guessers also did great of course, but like come on, the artist has to be the mvp. I'm really hoping we pull through!! I don't mind going to tribal, but I genuinely don't wanna vote anyone out yet. I'm fine just playing the game in a precautionary way. I know I'm in a great position if we do go to tribal, but it's always preferred that we don't go.

Everyone else on my tribe: doing the challenge and kicking ass

Me: I’m sleep

Riley (Tumblr has once again chosen violence so only the first 10 get banners 🥲)

I think our challenge went pretty well! My team were good guessers. Feeling like I've established some Integrity now. Hope it keeps me safe later!

Toph Soooooo we finished the challenge with 32 points and like wig !! I was a quick as drawer for 32pts expect when my internet lagged, but still ! I think we whooped some ass and if we do go to tribal I know it won’t be me going, thanks to Duolingo owl hate club but I’m also worried same could have and advantage because they seem pretty kean on learning a lot in like 3 hours and then tried to cover that statement to not seem so threatening but like babs s a huge threat too apparently they love Duolingo and know 5 laugnes ? This is from brayden but If so go babs ! That’s absolutely iconic for real Life but fucking scary in this game ! I gotta be buddy buddy with them so hopefully if they do have something it won’t be them going home first and it will be Ava. But I’m thinking we might get second place again unless someone is a fucking wizard at this.

Dennis hmm i think we did well enough in the challenge to not see tribal tomorrow but who knows i guess we shall find out tn

the way ellie was so on top of stuff yesterday only to oversleep the challenge makes me giggle maybe shes freaking out about it which makes me also giggle but i dont think its really a big deal

anastasia asked me to call yesterday and i was like sure lets talk but it is damn near impossible to hold a conversation with her idk i tried BUT she did tell me “yeah i just got off a call with ellie” im like i see. she says shes down to work with ellie but that quickly switched from ellie being ~experienced~ but good to know ellie is also playing hard. anastasia also mentioned that she talks to riley a fair amount who i still have yet to connect to well. but dat makes me think ellie is def talking to riley too miss debate team is definitely a talker. but good on her for the social game i guess

kenneth keeps being like haha we’re the same person and im like yeah👁 i bet we are👁

i just wanna win and not think about tribal just keep it slow and chill for now keep learnin my welsh i guess

Ava Second challenge was Pictionary and I had a ton of fun playing. The tea is: toph did a great job. He was pretty vocal about not being a great artist but really I think he did great. However, Babs was super inactive yesterday and ~too late~ said they were a great artist and should've been picked to draw. It was kind of like.... k babs thanks for the belated "help". They did do great guessing which scored a point in my book. Brayden was supposed to play but last minute logged off without saying anything so we did the challenge without him :/ sorta a bummer. Anyway the lack of participation from Sam is kind of popping off so we'll see where that leads them... Overall a fun game and fingers crossed we did well!

Moth I think we did okay at the challenge. Today I am dying from the heatwave so I’m not thinking too straight! Stay cool everyone

Ellie So yesterday Anastasia and I called for about an hour!!! I’d say we’re definitely way closer, she’s someone I really wanna work with although the idea of her and Brayden eventually being on the same tribe is kinda scary cause I know how close they are. Still she’s so fun to talk to and I just love her energy so much!

Pictionary challenge results: Jenkins Tribe wins with Penadragon second, Hatter Tribe has to go to tribal council on the following day.

Ava Well well well seems our bob ross, toph, didn't pull through (y'all think babs would've pulled it out for us or slept through our challenge like they said they almost did?) I can't wait for tribal. I'm in it for the drama. I'm hashtag voting Sam off - didn't even bother to be apart of our challenge and not too sure they've even been online for a full 24 hours. Weed out the weak.....

Anastasia

Brayden https://imgur.com/n60Lz0c

guys i dont know what to do someone help me out

Dennis i hope damn brayden gets the boot

Raffy Woo! We don't have to go to tribal again! We stan!

Ellie So I figured I’d go idol hunting today cause the shop was about to close and I just wanted to see what had been bought and what possible hats there were, I see that there’s a hat I have enough for that hasn’t been bought and I decide fuck it let’s get it

APPARENTLY ITS SOMETHING THAT IM NOT ALLOWED TO KNOW WHAT IT IS OR HOW TO USE IT YET???? THEY SAID ILL FIND OUT ABOUT IT LATER

I DONT WANT THE MYSTERY MOUSE-CA-TOOL BESTIE

Sam Well you see. I like all my tribe people. And I think we did real good on that music video! So, I think rather than voting anyone else off, I think I should just vote myself off if that is possible! Ahhh

Babs So sad to see Sam not only go but go through what they're going through :( same w Toph :( they all seem so lovely

Keith Not sure if i submitted a confession after the last tribal. But if I didnt here it is.

Happy I made it out of that tribal. I had raffy backing me with whom I played. Last time we played. We were at odds. We didnt work together but whats worse that we were against each other. It was either him or me goin out. Hopefully thats the past n we can work together. I jus need to keep things calm n show that Im not here itching to make big moves. So they dont feel threatened by me. N its easy cause right now. I havnt made that kind og bond with anyone on my tribe. To even think of such moves. Lets see what round two holds for me.

Colin so uh

we lost! :(

I was really bummed tbh. Like I thought we did well but circumstances with the challenge were just really unfortunate, from conflict about who wanted to be the artist to people disappearing the moment the challenge started, I think we did well despite all of that. Except we did kinda get stomped anyway. Oh well!! The game moves on. Tribal has to happen.

Initially I was gonna push for Babs, just because I feel like I don't wanna attach myself to them too early on. I've seen how much of a bitter player they can be, and lets just say I'm not the most loyal ally to have. however! 9 minutes after we lost, Ava announces to our alliance that she's voting Sam. I wasn't surprised, Sam has been the one not really pulling their weight. But I had some good connections with her!! we both did colorguard and shes so sweet and easy to talk to. I was really conflicted for a little bit, debating on whether or not to actually push for Babs. I think brayden sensed my hesitance but we both knew there was nothing really I could do to stop Sam from being the vote. At first tribal, the initial name always spreads like wildfire.

However, my mess was stopped abruptly by Sam asking to be voted out. welp!! okay then!! babs stays i guess!! i'm not too bothered. I'll never turn down an easy vote hehe.

Pretty sure there's a swap tonight. I'm kinda scared of that

uwu

Brayden

i almost forgot to upload this but dont worry i just remembered

Colin screams

Toph So we’re going to tribal in 20 and all I have to say right now is if there is a tribe swap after I’m gonna so scared but I ducking called I had a vibe and it was right that’s what is gonna win me this game trusting my intuition. I’m holding on now and gonna be the biggest comp beast next challenge in case I get fucked on this swap !!!! Or at least if it is a swap 🤔

Riley I don't know what this announcement's gonna be I'm worriedddd... Ginny said it probably means we're swapping teams but I don't wannaaaa I like our team.

Toph Sam self sacrificing made this the easiest vote ever and me being safe is a plus I guess 😎

[survivormagictreehouse]

Episode #5 “I have nothing else to lose at this point” -Jay

-Did I even make a confessional last round??? AHH. Okay so I’m excited with our swap and I think we have a strong tribe but I’m REALLY sad (and not surprised) about Austin leaving. I think that I am on a very strong tribe and I can’t wait to see what happens with it going forward!  Like I can’t bad talk anyone, I like them all. 

-Can we talk about how proud I am of myself for remembering enough information to tell Cindi while she was answering questions? LOL, I had never been so nervous in my entire life so I'm really good that we pulled out a win!  Ali and Collin did such a good job retaining and relaying information.  It is nice to have another day off and I'm really curious to see what Ali decides to do and what the next challenge will be... I don't want this tribe to be broken up yet.   If I do end up swapping I really want to end up on a tribe with Chips.  We played in a game recently AGAINST one another and I'm dying to work with him, like actually work with him so oddly enough, I'm really hoping that he isn't going anywhere! I feel like they will probably go after Timmy or Jay. Right now the person on my tribe I feel like I can talk with the easiest about the game is Ali, he is probably my number one and I feel like I can tell him stuff without it getting passed around the entire tribe.  Do I completely trust him?? NO.  But I do trust him the most haha.  

-I SURVIVED AHHHHHH I GET TO STAY!!!!!!!!! Fuck that was so close and I feel so bad for throwing Austin under the bus but hey, I needed to stay in this game and keep my relationships strong. Plus, voting for Timmy would have looked really shitty to him, after the whole alliance thing. Anyways....Birch is here now! I love them sm and I really look forward to getting to work with them again. As far as I can tell, my best bet of staying is a group of me, Timmy, Zach, Birch and probably Chips. Chips and Zach were so helpful to me this whole day, reassuring me and giving me the information I needed to stay safe. I also called with Timmy just now and we're gonna be sticking together since it's our best option. Its really been a big turn from feeling comfortable in the tribe to fighting to stay, but I'm gonna stay fighting and hopefully make it out of this swap alive.

-I'm trying so fucking hard to stay in this game but right now it feels like a lost cause. Zach sold me out so badly last night and it feels like it's been impossible to recover. I'm trying to get me, Timmy, chips, and birch to all vote Zach but it's feeling less and less like it's actually happening and more like they're just saying it to keep me comfortable. No one is really responding to me anymore and it just feels like this is the end. The only little bit of hope I have is apparently Timmy has heard it's gonna be Birch instead? Seems like a long shot, I don't really want to see them leave, and I'm not gonna push for it. Birch is an indespencible ally and I will go to rocks for them if i have to. I have nothing else to lose at this point.

https://youtu.be/cYEa3LQE6N4

-Going into tonight's tribal, I think I'll be safe and have the votes of Timmy, Jess, Gavin, and Keegan. However, I feel like either Gavin and Keegan could flip (though unlikely) OR an idol could be used on Jay. I guess we shall see though. See y'all on the other side :)

-okay so the og annie tribe lost their marbles and got a 4-3-1? which well. in other news, i died in my other game and mr BODHI on this tribe got me out... very interesting. i was originally gonna punish him and get him out. and i still might. im unsure. he would deserve it tho he is so wishywashy that its infuriating. rn dream alliance is cindi/vi/ruthie/rachael (aka feminism + ali). bodhi was the best to vote for me on a game level and him needless treating me like crap makes that much easier.

-okay hello... so in a crazy plot twist... we won the storytime? i was really proud of my own contribution to the challenge, i passed on a LOTTA info to collin and he did so so good passing it, ruthie SNAPPED when she was so nervous and cindi brought it home. my game has been pretty smooth sailing, two easy votes and now im chilling on the most wholesome tribe ever. should i probably be throwing these challenges to save jay/timmy/austin... maybe... but am i going to... no. im not risking my game life when i see my entire current tribe as long term allies. ideal scenario is that group implodes and sets us up to pick up the pieces at merge... maybe? but also i think we are swapping again before merge, so just adding another challenge with the shakespeare challenge delays me getting jumped by the conglomerate of generic men, birch and jess. my closest ally right now is definitely ruthie, i LOVE ME SOME RUTHIE. vi, cindi, collin, timmy and rachael i also trust to some extent. bodhi i literally would get an indescribable seretonin rush from voting out... i would LOVE the opportunity to jump him in this game. am over that man. but im vibing having fun! still have an idol! and living my BEST life ha. im sorry my confessionals have been underwhelming but my game experience has been pretty smooth sailing so far ha.

-Spill the tea! *It's 1:11AM and I still miss Gavin.

-It's 8:59 PM and I still miss Gavin. prayer circle for Gavin <3

https://youtu.be/JSmJThHF-tU

So I did something. I am not allied with 5/7 people on my tribe. I have the "3 Canadians, oh and the 2 American Hosts" Alliance of me, Jess and Keegan. I am not quite as Loyal to that alliance as I am my new one. But I still don't want to vote them out. If I HAD to I would but i want to keep them. I really like both of them. I just made the "The Jolly Crew" Alliance which is Me, Jay, Timmy Z and Zach. I love this alliance. I vibe really well with Timmy and Jay. I am a little more iffy on Zach but he is really cool! I stan everyone! I guess out of the 2 people left I would prefer to vote out chips? He tends to be kinda inactive and I talk to him the least. IDK I'll go with the numbers, and my alliance.  

Another round, another immunity win. I’m just living life and am happy with how this game is going. Don’t really have to do much but making sure it won’t be me if we eventually do go to tribal.

We lost the challenge despite my best efforts. I think we’re voting Jay

I wish i had something of substance to say but this tribe refuses to go to tribal :/ i've found spots where TWO idols were in the past i think??? lions -> straight ahead -> ask for a tour, and vikings -> small boat -> get on the small boat

Soooooo... we lost the challenge again an' I got kidnapped by the gentlemen o' fortune. love that there fer me! then, to me surprise, right off o' the bat, jay threw me name out. so 'e be essentially dead to me now an' I expect 'im to be leavin' tonight. his blood ‘ill be on me hook after tonight. luckily fer me, I went around an' started spreadin' that there I 'ad 'eard 'e been sayin' me name—and 'e 'ad apparently only said it to zach. so now, the votes be between zach an' jay... an' I could not be 'appier as me name be off o' the table as farrr as I know. so bless to the sky to that there. I be expectin' jay to set sail tonight, but who knows. there been a lot o' talk o' 'im or birch 'avin' an idol or some kind o' advantage (which I believe birch may 'ave something), but I don’t think I be playin' me idol unless I catch wind o' somethin' strange 'appenin'... but me fingers be crossed an' I be goin' to 'ope fer the best.

2nd win and Ali is chucked to the tree house. Gotta do a music video

So the Annie curse strikes again............ wooo. This vote is a bit of a mess but honestly this all works out for me. Jay going ensures that I have Chips/Birch's loyalties moving forward and honestly the more OG Annie people that go the better. I hate the whole tribe lines situation but honestly I'm kind of stuck in it and I think I'm stuck in it for the long haul or at least for now. Zach going ensures I can climb the social rankings of the OG JACK tribe but it also might make me land on the bottom and it would be such a gamble. Do I trust Zach? no. Do I think everything Birch/Jay are saying about Zach is completely true..mhm BUT I need him just for a bit longer at this point. Also if Jay didn't say Gavin's name I probably would risk it and vote out Zach but at this point I can't not vote out someone who is saying my number 1's name... I want another swap because I'm bored of talking to the same people and I need to form some new bonds before merge. 

With me getting one vote last time, I really wanted to secure my spot within my team and was able to talk with Zach and Jess into making an alliance chat with us and Keegan/Gavin. Hopefully jay goes tonight but I’m not to sure. In the challenge bitch was terrible. We are a bit nervous they got an advantage or idol on exile which is why we are telling everyone the vote is birch tonight. Guess we will see how tonight goes

I'm doing lots of house stuff today but I hear there's a mess to be had with Jay versus Zach. I want to vote Zach because he has been acting head honcho but also... dont care too much. Im going to try to force a tie then get blindsided out of the game. Hype energy!

.

.

.

The Round 5 Cast Assessment will be combined with Round 6 (on the next episode)

[survivor-mesopotamia]

Ep. #3 - "I'm just throwing stuff at things that I don't even know exists" (Isabelle)

I'm pretty nervous for this immunity challenge. Given that its a flash game roulette, I fully expect the other returnee tribe to get the highest score, so we have to strategize our point values for each game. I decided to play winterbells since no one else wanted to, but we need to put the lowest value there because I know there's no chance I will win it with people like Monty and Johnny who could end up playing it. If we strategize the points right, we could stay safe as well. I really don't want to vote anyone from our tribe off.

praying jj is the cheater

i was gonna make a real confessional, but ill save it for tomorrow. i'd just like to say i literally look like a CRAZY person scoring 2 billion in winterbells and not thinking it was enough when the other scores were 300k and 2 million. i gtg

YES We've won our third immunity challenge and it feels pretty good. I will say that right now I do feel kinda stagnant because you know we have yet to go to tribal council but yet at the same time I don't want to go. Honestly I've been loving the tribe Michael is truely the only one I question like their whole demanor becuase they felt almost like they where constantly trying to hand off their part of the challenge to literally anyone else but also with Collin mostly because he seems to be coming off kinda................forced is probably the best word for it. Well I don't know till next time ttyl

C7: https://youtu.be/fCmPRxLuFv8 C8: https://youtu.be/HH8tYuHGDFg

Going into tribal tonight SUCKS. I don't want any of us 6 going, but it has to be done. So far the discussion seems to be all about voting Chrissa out. My personal opinion on it is indifferent. Our conversations were pretty short and I was usually the one to initiate it. I feel more bonded with the other players on my tribe. I discussed it with Julian and it looks like that's the plan in execution at the moment. We have an alliance with JJ and I'm not sure if JJ knows yet because he hasn't said anything yet. As for Will, who I consider a really close ally, he had the same thoughts. Basically there's a lot of as long as it isn't me mindsets because it's a really difficult vote. Megan approached me about making a chat with us three together which is pretty interesting. It looks as though I'm in two chats now. One with JJ and Julian and another with Megan and Will. I'd like to think that's a good sign but the only good sign in a game is when the person who everyone said was going home goes home, so fingers crossed.

https://soundcloud.com/collin-vodicka-771937060/enlil-tribe-sucks

So once again, the Enki tribe has slayed the immunity challenges, however, I am one of the weaker people when playing comps. I am predicting a tribe swap next round though, but I'm also prepping for the possibility we have to go to tribal. I have made a really strong bond with Zach, and I am extremely close with Grace. I have started to get to know Adam, and I think Collin likes the "Team Grocery Store" thing we have going on since we are both baggers at grocery stores. I'm not that close with Michael or Cameron, so I wouldn't mind if one of them left if we had to vote someone out. But as of now, I am continuing to serve as a mentor to these new players and trying to give the full truth to them so that I have good relationships with them going forward. Also, last night I discovered a youtube link in the Idol System page of the Tumblr blog. It showed dancing crabs and the URL says "Step One." I did notice however that there were 140 views already when i found it the first time. So I assume someone already knows about the video on my tribe and has figured it out already. But it still does not hurt to try to get an idol. It at least gives me closure and gives me something to do while I let these newbies overplay the game like Zach is. Concerning the future of this game, if there is a tribe swap, I need to figure out how to get in good with these returnees. The newbie players are in a minority, however I am familiar with Megan Julian and JJ. I don't know anyone on the An tribe, but I guess thats the fun in getting to know people. I just have to be as nice as possible and try not to come off as a douche to them because they have played this game before. I haven't. The last thing I want is for people to think I am an entitled asshole. I want to stay civil and let people want to work with me instead of me forcing myself onto them. Finally I have a legit confessional LMFAO

https://youtu.be/ejn4YyJogo0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POLT6aOiJZs&feature=youtu.be

We won immunity! I was worried for a moment my score wouldn't be good enough cause I hurt my hand a couple days ago so I had to take lots of breaks to ice it. And i mean it was close...between first and second. Like damnnnn they got 0 points. That really has to be a hit to their tribe morale. But speaking of tribe morale, I really feel connected to my tribe. I've had a good time just talking to everyone. I think the person I've talked to the least is Abby but even then I really like her. I think there's a really good chance we swap after tonight's tribal, even though Johnny thinks it'll happen at 16. If we do swap, the person I want most on my tribe is Benji. Obviously since he's been gone from the community for ages, there's nothing linking us together so obviously like playing Malaysia with Isabelle, hosting Johnny in Flops, and hosting Lazio with Monty, not to mention the amount of seasons he hosted me in Pacific Islands (RIP). He's also very personable so I think he could gain us new allies. P.S. Prayer circle for Chrissa and Eric tonight, if I can swap with either one of them that would be a MIRACLE

me in my mesopotamia application: i dont want to end up in a ride-or-die pair. i always get fucked over and do worse than the person im aligned close with. benji: also if i didnt make it clear already you're my #1 in this game and the only way id write your name down is to win like im not going on call with the other tribemates and comparing notes i feel like im a lot more reserved around the others this was the first alliance i made and im sticking to it! me: you're my #1 too! no way i could write your name down either just in case that was not clear oifjeoijrf history repeats itself, baby! honestly its too early to tell if ill meet the same fate as i have in the past with my close 2s/3s (shoutout ash, sara, nick w + christine), but here we are. god as i sent that message i knew immediately it's gonna bite me in the butt later on. like i wasn't lying, i do really trust benji more than anyone else in this game BUT I NEED TO PLAY FOR ME this time! woof.

so i don't wanna talk to my host chat because drew is gonna not be proud of me and that's not okay I knew it from last night and today no one talking to me it's gonna be me no one ever wants me at merge so it's fine I could fight for it but JJ has given up so i guess that's it.

Things are... still good! We continue to do well enough in challenges that all strategic talk has been pretty much confined to agreeing to stay united and get everyone in the tribe as far as we can. It’s been surprisingly relaxed so far.

RIP Chrissa she didn't deserve this 

from chrissa's boot ep https://youtu.be/02a8QiaQG8M

Chrissa voted out 5-1