#but I at least get some shit done a tiny bit once a day

[dumpywrites]

Two Days - Jungkook

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?

Genre/tags: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp! :)

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: this is my first ever bts/jk fic, I'm just trying this out since i have some days off from work, hope y'all like it <3

“Please?”

“No.” 

“You’re missing out.” 

“Jungkook, we’re literally in a Burger King.”

You heard the man playfully saying, “Yes, and?” in a singing tone. All you could do was rolling your eyes in reply. Jeon Jungkook, this guy who had been begging you for his so-called masterplan that he called, “trial date” for weeks, was now yet again begging you for a chance.

You could not exactly pinpoint when it actually began. He was shy the first time you met. You had known the rest of the boys ever since you met Yoongi at an art class. The cold looking guy who was surprisingly friendly and soft-hearted, later on introduced you to the rest of the guys. Jungkook was introduced almost a year later into befriending the group. He was a guy who went to the same gym as Namjoon. They became friends ever since he offered Namjoon a ride one time. 

Being the youngest amongst the guys and also the latest you got to meet, you would think that his shyness would linger at least a little bit longer. Then again, if you really think about it, he probably only stayed quiet and shy on the first meeting. 

The idea of both of you together was never mentioned until recently. Namjoon was the one who started calling out Jungkook’s odd behavior towards you, but the nail on the coffin was when you all got drunk at Jimin’s house that one time. 

It was Jimin’s birthday and truthfully, you knew the guy was loaded rich, but you did not know he was rich with capital R. The selection of bottles in his house was pretty much unlimited from the ones you like to the ones you couldn’t even name. It was five hours into all the celebration and you all were blurting nonsense. You were tipsy, but still aware cause for some reason you were winning all the games that night and got to drink less. But Jungkook on the other hand, who was usually winning everything, was getting pissy cause he kept coming second after you. 

“This is unbelievable.” Jungkook groaned, casually throwing the boardgame cards on the table. 

“You just have a soft spot for her.” Jin shrugged. 

“I do not! I just have a crush on her.” Jungkook retorted back, as if his sentence made any sense. 

You heard Hoseok voiced a small “oh” with his usual judgy expression, and the rest were silent for a second, including you. 

“I mean…” Jungkook tried to correct himself but stopped mid-way, trying to make up words in his already drunk mind. His eyes went back and forth to everyone before he scoffed. “You all act so surprised, as if you didn’t tease me everyday right after the first time I met Y/N.” 

When the room was still silent, Jungkook realized he fucked up, his blurry mind completely ignored the fact that you, the subject of this topic, was in fact also in the room. 

“Shit.” Was all he muttered before he excused himself to the bathroom, and did not come out for twenty minutes. 

When he was done, everyone had decided to wrap it up due to the awkwardness and the absence of Jungkook himself. He found Taehyung and Jin sleeping on both sides of Jimin’s big couch, and a small smile formed on his lips, shaking his head over the dumb expression they had in their sleep. His stomach soon flipped right after he saw you on the kitchen, making yourself a cup of instant noodle. 

“Oh, hey.” You greeted awkwardly. “I got hungry from all that drinking.” You shyly mentioned. 

Jungkook only nodded and took a seat on one of the dinning chairs. 

“You want some?” You offered, trying to break the ice. 

“Y/N stop.” His eyes widened once he realized how bad that sounded. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that?” He chuckled dryly, it was more of a statement rather than a question. 

When you kept quiet but sat down next to him regardless, and ate your noodles, he decided you were at least comfortable enough to hear him talk. “This whole huge crush on you thingy… that’s not gonna ruin our friendship or anything, right? If you’re uncomfortable I’ll just stop showing up when you’re around for a—”

“What?! No! Jungkook, I’m not uncomfortable.” You sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised, I guess.”

“Why though?” He asked innocently, his big doe eyes looking straight at you, making you slightly nervous. 

“It’s just… you do realize you’re quite popular right?”

“What’s that gotta do with this situation?”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.” 

“You don’t get to decide that.”

That was the last civil conversation you had with him until he decided it was a good idea to cling to you almost every single day, pestering on the idea of this whole trial dating. Everyone other than Yoongi, who was neutral (read: don't really care enough to actually voice an opinion at the moment), was pretty much on board with his plan. You being single for a year now definitely did not help your case. They kept saying that you needed to lit up your dating engine again, so it wouldn’t be rusty. 

It was not that you did not find Jungkook attractive. Heck, he was one of the most attractive person you had ever laid your eyes on. It was just, weird? He felt like a brother, the same as the rest of the boys. If you didn’t treat any of them different, then you should not with Jungkook either, right?

“Have you maybe considered that maybe she’s tired of your bullshit?” Yoongi blurted with a blank expression, as he continue to munch on his burger. 

“It’s only been two weeks.” Jungkook protested. “Besides, you never know 'till you try, right?” He winked at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m good, Kookie.” You pinched his cheeks, a little bit too hard. 

“H-hey!” He pouted, his cheeks forming even rounder. “Two days! Two days!” He suddenly shouted. 

“Oh boy…” Hoseok side-eyed the rest of you, clearly done with the younger one. 

“Give me two days, Y/N!” He said with his two fingers right in front of your face. “You don’t have plans this weekend, right?”

“Hey, maybe—“ Namjoon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the lad interrupted. 

“I’ll take you on two dates and then you can decide afterwards.” He grinned, as if that was the most brilliant thing he had ever thought of. “If you still don’t like me after that then I will gracefully back off.” He threw his hands in the air. 

“You promise?” You suddenly spoke, after being silent for a while. 

“Wait, you’re actually considering—“ Jin stood up from his seat, almost knocking his table. 

Jungkook hurriedly covered Jin’s mouth, not letting yet another man finish his sentence again. “I promise!” He saluted, grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt. 

“Are you really sure?” Yoongi whispered to you. 

You only shrugged. Truthfully, you were not sure either. But at this point, you just wanted Jungkook to get over his girl hyperfixation of the month. Which was, you. 

You just did not buy the story of him being head over heels on you since day one. As if he didn’t look like a Greek god himself? As if you did not know how women and even men would kill just to get a taste of him. You just wanted him to get it over with, so he can realize how weird the whole idea was and went back to being the goofball friend you once knew. 

—

Right, so.

Now here you were, basically having a mini dress-up montage moment, picking an outfit for your cinema date. Even after spending almost an hour getting ready you ended up with just wearing your usual crop top and baggy jeans, hoping it will be fine. Clearly you didn’t wanna seem like a try-hard. It was just Jungkook. He had seen you with pajamas and you didn’t hear him complain, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Why did you even go through the trouble to pick an outfit? You wondered yourself. 

Ten minutes later and Jungkook was already ringing your phone. 

“I’m at your lobby!” He exclaimed loudly over the phone. 

“You’re early.”

“Just can’t wait to see you.” You could not see his face, but you knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Hurry down! Oh, and bring your jacket.”

You didn’t expect him to came with a motorbike. A huge one not to mention. Something stirred in your stomach for a millisecond seeing him in a leather jacket. 

He took a spare helmet and innocently handed it to you. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe.” He sheepishly said. 

You tried your best to ignore the nickname, and spoke. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle.” You said, taking the helmet he gave in your hands. 

“I’m just too lazy to drive sometimes so I just lift on Hobi’s car.” He shrugged. “Why? Are you scared?” He teased. 

“Of course not.” You said and put on the helmet. You did not miss his small snickers when you struggle to hop on his Harley, having to grab him by his shoulders. 

“Okay, just wanna let you know, I drive like suuuuuper fast. So, you have to hug me to be safe!” He giggled. 

You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see. “I’m just gonna head back upstairs...”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” He chuckled. “I’m a good driver, Namjoon approved! But you can grab onto my jacket if you want.” 

—

The movie was great. 

And that was a lie, cause truth to be told, you could barely focus on the plot. Every time you caught a glimpse of the boy next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. While it was true that you had not been dating for quite some time, you could feel your spidey-sense tingling, as if you were to turn your head towards him, something would happen. Thinking about it was not exactly the best thing for you.

“We’re getting ice cream.” Jungkook cheerfully said, as you both walked out the cinema. 

“That’s not a question?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the silliness. 

“Not a chance I’m letting you go home yet.” 

“Is this a date or a kidnapping?” 

“Could be both if you want.” He laughed. “So…” He cutely put his hands in his pockets as you walked. 

“So?”

“So… how’s life?” 

“You did not just ask me that.” You laughed.

“What? I’m just trying to make actual conversation!” He laughed as well, but later on his expression softened. “You seemed down these past couple of days though?” 

You tilted your head slightly. You didn’t think he would notice. 

“You… noticed?”

“Of course I did!” He grinned, patting his chest proudly. “You didn’t talk that much at our last movie night at Taehyung’s. You usually love to debate after watching a movie.” He chuckled. "The fact that you're not even starting a discussion right now, is lowkey concerning."

That was because of an entirely different thing, but you chose not to say. “I haven't even told Yoongi.” 

“Even if you tell him, he wouldn’t tell anyone either, so what’s your point?” 

“That’s fair.” You broke a small smile. 

“What happened?” He stopped mid-track, suddenly losing a bit of confidence in his speaking tone. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me…”

Your expression softened. “It’s a bit stupid…”

“It’s okay, I’ll listen!” He nodded towards you. “I’ll just quickly grab those ice cream and we’ll sit down somewhere?” 

Minutes later he came back with two ice creams and a big stupid grin plastered on his face as usual. “Here you go, let’s sit down on that bench.”

You nodded and thanked him before following him to the bench. 

“Come sit close to me!” He patted right next to him. When you only looked at him blankly. He added, “Please?”

You sat down close to him but left a bit of space enough so that your shoulders wouldn’t touch. 

“Are you cold?” 

“Uh… no.”

“Okay, good.” He smiled and took a big bite of his ice cream. “So, do you still wanna tell me? Or we could also just sit and talk shit about Jin while we eat ice cream if you don’t want!”

You smiled. Looking into his eyes, you could feel his sincerity. It could be just you, but you felt somewhat… safe. 

“I used to date this one guy… We dated for three months before I ended things with him.” 

You looked up to Jungkook, expecting to see a negative expression but he remained silent, only nodding to signal you to continue. 

“To be fair we haven’t been in touch for almost a year, but he suddenly called me. He was drunk and said a bunch of nonsense. I still replied at first, cause I was worried for his safety. But after I found out he was drunk at home, I bid my goodbye. Then he suddenly said…” You took a deep breath. “He said that I’m a 4.5 with a bitch attitude and being picky won’t help me.” You broke into a sad grin. “It’s stupid, I know—“

“Who is this fucker? Can I beat the shit outta him? How come I’ve never heard about this?!”

“Probably cause this is how you react.” You chuckled. “It had me quite bothered for quite sometime, maybe the fact that I also haven’t dated in a while adds to it, but I guess I feel somewhat better now.” 

“So that’s why you said you thought you weren’t my type?” 

“Huh?”

“That fucker needs to get his eyes and brain checked.” He shook his head. “You know, it’s fine to not want to settle for less.” He said as he looked at the sun setting in the sky. “He’s just butthurt you don’t want him back.” 

You stayed silent but nodded.

“His dick’s probably small anyway.” When you slapped his arm, he laughed. “What? Am I wrong? Why did you even break up with him?”

“He's sexist!”

“And his dick is small.” He followed. 

“Jungkook!” You began to laugh as well. 

“You know you’re easily a ten, but I’ll give a nine for now.” He said, pretending to be serious with rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes. 

“Why? What deduct the one point?”

“Cause you haven’t like me back yet.” 

“God, make that at least five points then, I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, but laughed. 

He smiled softly. “Feeling better?” 

“Well, I guess? But now my ice cream's all melty.” You pouted, trying to lick some that was melting down the cone. 

“That’s why you eat fast like me.” He proudly said. 

“And have stomach problem? No thanks.”

“Here let me just…” He licked a stripe from your cone and took a big bite. “There.”

You were taken aback. So stunned that you could only blink a few times at him. 

“What? Don’t tell me that turned you on?” He smirked. 

“You… Jungkook, that’s gross!” You whined, which only resulted in his laughter. 

—

The next day Jungkook wanted a full day date. Boy kept saying that he wanted fair chance since it was his last day. He already planned a list of things both of you would do and all, and the first being eating brunch with you. 

“Do you really have to come this early?” You complained as you opened your apartment door for the guy. 

When the said guy sheepishly didn’t move and enter, you raised one of your eyebrows. His hands were behind his back, clearly holding something, and you can see both of his arms flexed, seemingly grasping something tightly. You were searching for his boyish grin, but his expression seemed worried instead. 

“I got you flowers.” He said, sounding discouraged. 

“Oh?” You replied, but wondered why he just kept standing and not move. 

“I found out last minute that you don’t like flowers…” He frowned. “Yoongi told me in the group chat after I got too excited and sent them a pic of the flowers I got you.”

He looked like a lost puppy, and suddenly you had the urge to hug him to ease all his pain away. You stopped yourself before the impulse got the best of you and you grabbed him by the forearm, dragging him inside and closing the door. 

“You can’t stay in that position the whole day, you have to hand me the flowers.” You folded your arms, trying to hold in a chuckle. 

“But you don’t like them!”

“I haven’t even seen them.”

He finally moved his hands and revealed a small bouquet of fresh daisies. It was a simple bouquet, nothing too extravagant with a brown wrapping paper. It somehow reminded you of his smile and how radiant he looked when he did so. Yes, you did not like flowers, they were unpractical, it felt like an unnecessary addition, a waste of space. But somehow you like it. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy and it was very pleasant. It made you wanna accept it with open arms. Truthfully, the description did not really feel like it was describing flowers anymore, but you decided to not further ponder on it. 

“Thank you.” You took the flowers and sniffed it, before setting it down on your table. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know, I feel so dumb cause everyone knew already and—“

“Hey, we’ve only known each other for three months.” You assured. “Besides, it’s really not much of a big deal, I actually like them.” 

“You do???”

“Yeah, they look pretty. I don’t know how long I can keep them looking like that though.” 

“Oh my god…” He exhaled deeply. “I was so worried it would be a deal breaker or something. I was literally shaking!”

He laughed and showed his right hand in front of you, it was shaking slightly. You didn’t know why he laughed at it, you didn’t find it funny. 

“It happens sometimes when I’m nervous.” He chuckled. 

Instead of saying something, you took his hand into yours just by intuitive. It was impulsive, but you let go before he had the chance to intertwine his fingers with yours. He didn’t comment on your behavior, but a smile was still on his face as he waited for you to grab your things to go. 

The brunch was on this small cafe near your place. You insisted on paying this time, since he paid for yesterday. The brunch was spent with him trying to sneakily hold your hand, but failed every single time. 

Next activity on the list was buying clothes together. As cringey as that sounded, and you even almost opposed the idea, Jungkook said that he needed to buy new outfit and he wanted to hear your feedback. Plus, some of his clothes barely fit him anymore since he decided to become a gym rat. 

“You actually look great in those skirt.” 

“You’re joking.” You denied, but twirled around in front of the mirror anyway, while trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need the purchase. 

“I’ll buy them for you if you won’t.” 

“We didn’t have all those money-saving talk with Namjoon only for you to say that.” You folded your arms. 

“Oh come on, you look great!” He pointed to you and his lips forming into a small pout. “Besides, we’re on a date today so I think that’s a pretty good excuse.” 

“I thought we are here to help you buy some clothes, not buy me skirt that I probably won’t wear that often.” 

“Let me spoil you for once… please?” He begged, eyes all sparkly. His lips shined along with his two lip piercings. 

“Alright, fine... I’ll get the skirt, but!” You eyed him. “Only if you buy that straight-cut jeans you just tried before.”

“Deal.”

“That’s it? You’re not gonna argue on how those aren’t on trend anymore?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“I was gonna buy them anyways. You were practically drooling when I showed you.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “Kinda was just waiting for you to admit it…”

You only rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t open your lips to deny his words either. 

After you changed back into your clothes and Jungkook paid for the purchases, he went back to you with a sly grin on his face and you immediately suspected something. He came back with a pair of matching string bracelet. 

“You can just not wear them later if you don’t want to, but let me be delusional for today, okay?”

You both left the store after you let him put the bracelet on your wrist. 

Next in line was spending time on a local amusement park. It was nothing too extreme, just a small carnival that has a few rides and snack booths. The guy kept insisting that you both should take a picture when the sun set. 

“Cotton candy!” Jungkook sprinted to the booth like a hungry kid, his laughter could be heard even as him getting far from where you were standing. 

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you walked to his direction. 

“Pink, blue, or green?” 

“Blue, maybe?”

“Alright.” He grinned and paid the seller as they handed the blue cotton candy stick. “Why blue though?” 

“Dunno, just kinda matches your outfit.”

“Sweetheart, I’m wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.” He giggled. 

Which should be a crime! Cause who even looks that good in a basic white t-shirt??? You thought to yourself. “Your jeans, I guess..?”

“If you say so.” He chuckled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”

“Being in a such small space with you sounds dangerous.” 

“I’ll protect you, babe.” He winked. 

“The danger is you, babe.” You mocked. 

He smirked, clearly amused. “Well, at least I got you to call me babe, that’s a win for me.” 

“You’re anno— hmph!” He stuffed a ball of cotton candy in your mouth, laughing continuously at the sight. 

After wandering around for a while and finishing the cotton candy, Jungkook dragged you to the shooting game. You refused, saying how you never really win these kind of games, but knowing him, losing was never really his thing. You saw how big the main prize was and you know Jungkook, you knew his ego, you knew damn well that was what he was aiming. 

“If you’re aiming for that giant teddy bear, don’t. We can’t carry that thing around...”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” He didn’t listen and instead paid for the game tickets. 

“We can’t carry that in your motorcycle, that’s like another passenger!”

“Just watch me.” He smirked, already aiming with the toy gun. 

You rolled your eyes, there’s really no telling him on this. “Fine, whatever.” 

After just two shots, you hear him jump in celebration, fist in the air and the staff rang the bell for him winning the price. You were ready to complain, but the staff handed you a small frog plushie instead. You looked at Jungkook and saw his boyish grin, his eyes almost turned into crescents. You looked back at the plushie in your hands and couldn’t lie to yourself, it was very adorable. 

“You didn’t aim for the grand prize?”

“You told me not to.” He shrugged. “Plus, you like frogs, right?”

“Well…” 

“I wished I took a picture of your expression when they handed you the plushie.” He laughed, a soft blush decorating his cheeks. 

You finally agreed to ride the ferris wheel with him. The park was going to close in an hour anyway, and you thought why not, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go for one ride. 

You sat across him, hugging the frog plushie on your lap. It was silent for the first few minutes, but it was comfortable, not awkward. You were just looking at the view from above and silently admiring it. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked. Suddenly your attention went back to him and his smile. 

“Well, yeah… I did.” You nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, I had fun too.” He smiled. “Everything’s fun with you though so I may be biased…” 

You didn’t really know what to say to counter his words. You just smiled and went back to looking at the window. 

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Uh… sure. Just be careful, you might tilt the cart.” 

Jungkook carefully moved to sit next to you. He muttered a small “phew” as he sat down. “Wow, the view’s better here.” He said, looking straight at you. 

“What do you mean? How—” And then it clicked to you. “Oh my god… shut up!” You hit his arm, and he laughed. 

“Take my compliment for once!” 

“Never.” You stuck your tongue out. 

The ride soon came to an end. You remembered that you promised Jungkook to take a picture with the sunset, but out of nowhere it started to rain. Although it was just small drizzle, it’s hard to take picture and avoid getting soaked at the same time. You both ran to the nearest sheltered place, with Jungkook’s leather jacket covering both of you. 

You said your sorry about his now wet jacket, but the boy did not seem to be bothered, as you can see how bright and happy he was, just from running with you under the rain. You sighed, but an idea came to you as soon as you saw a photo booth machine, not far from where you were standing. 

“Do you… maybe wanna do that instead?”

“Photobooth?” He looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe your words. 

“Why? You don’t want to?”

“No! I want to!” He said, almost too quickly. “But it’s just weird that you suggest it. But it’s a good weird!” He chuckled. 

“I promised you a picture, so we’re getting a picture.” 

“Aww.” Jungkook pout his lips in a kissy way, teasing you. 

“Let’s go before I regret it.” You dragged him inside the booth. 

The first pose you playfully put peace signs behind Jungkook’s head, giving him bunny ears, while he only stuck out his tongue. The second one, Jungkook made a love sign with both of his hands, and you surprised him with a middle finger, which he yelled at you afterwards, but couldn’t really continue to complain as the countdown for the next photo were already starting. 

Since Jungkook spent at least three and a half seconds with his protest, you both were panicking for the last picture, running out of ideas. As the countdown stating two, he suddenly pulled you closer and leaned on your shoulder. The shutter flashed and the photo was taken. You were still in awe and couldn’t process what just happened. You only followed when you saw Jungkook making his way out from the booth to collect the picture. 

The guy giggled like a highschool boy, taking the printed photos, then giving one copy to you. You stared at the last picture, how genuine Jungkook’s smile when he leaned on your shoulder, while you had your eyes widened in surprise. You felt your face heating in embarrassment. 

“Ugh… can we just cut out the last picture?” 

“I was thinking the same thing, I’m putting it on my wallet!” He said, eyes still looking up and down on the set of photos. 

When you only looked at him in disbelief, he uttered a small “what?”, and laughed. 

Both of you ended up eating some cups of ramen in a nearby convenience store, as you wait for the rain to stop pouring. He took you home right after, insisting on waking you to your door. 

“Take care of little Kookie for me, yeah?” He said, pointing at your frog plushie, as you stopped at your unit’s front door. 

“Why is he named after you?” You chuckled. 

“I’m his father!” He pretended to be offended.

“Well, say bye to your papa now, little Kookie.” You waved the plushie’s small hand to him. 

Jungkook felt his heart somersault. He turned away for a second, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… thank you again, for today…”

“Yeah! Thank you too…” You chewed your inner lips, hugging your plushie close. 

“I uh…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I just wanna let you know that what I said to you… about deciding whether you like me or not after the dates… I was just saying stuff. I don’t wanna pressure you into deciding your feelings for me or anything, I genuinely just wanna spend some time with you, and I’m thankful for your time.” 

You nodded, smiling at him. Your eyes locked with each other for a quick second. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the lamp in front of your door that you recently just got replaced. Either way, you could see the stars in Jungkook’s eyes and his skin glowed, but so did his lips. They were practically sparkling and glossy, you wondered if he had put any lip balm over it. For a moment, your attention stopped at his lips, just wondering how it would feel against yours. Would it be soft? Would you feel the cold metal of his lip piercing against your skin? 

The man in front of you seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well. You swore you saw his eyes darted to your lips for a quick glance, before coming back to your eyes. Just when he leaned down a bit to your height level… 

You froze. What was that? You felt your stomach turned, you couldn’t exactly point out whether it was due to nervousness, or if you were simply just afraid. You took a step back and your back almost hit the front door.

“You should head back, it could rain again soon…” You said, looking away. 

“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice. “Okay then… bye.” He waved to you awkwardly and walked away. 

As you see his figure walking away, you went inside your apartment and closed the door behind you. Sitting down on your sofa, you put your hand over your chest. Funny how your heart was still beating so fast. You were panicking, feeling everything all at once. Nervousness, excitement, curiosity, but mostly fright. The unknown territory was making you scared. The new feelings you were feeling, you didn’t even know if it would be okay to feel it. 

Still laying down on your sofa, you took your phone and dialed your best friend. 

“You called.” You heard Yoongi’s voice from the other line. 

“Why are you saying it like that.” 

“You only call when you’re stressing over something, otherwise, you only text.” 

You hate how smart and observant your friend was sometimes. “I think I feel something for Jungkook.” 

“Isn’t that… I don’t know, good?” 

“I don’t know… it just hit me like a truck, okay? One minute I wanna punch that stupid grin out of his face, the next thing I know, his lips looked so shiny and he got me wondering if his piercings would feel cold against my lips.” 

“Okay, wow.” Yoongi said in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”

“What if I’m just… super horny or something? I mean I haven’t been with anyone for like god knows how long now, and I could just be desperate and Jungkook is good looking, extremely good looking may I add, and—“

“Okay, okay… Y/N, pause for a second.” Yoongi sighed. “So you think you might be just horny and you feel bad for it?”

“Of course I feel bad! I don’t wanna use Jungkook like that! Just because he has this stupid crush on me, doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want with him. I’m not that kind of person!” You exclaimed, the volume of your voice getting slightly higher. 

“Tell me, how do you feel after the dates? Did you enjoy it?”

“Well yeah, I had a great time actually. I didn’t expect Jungkook to be that caring, and he’s actually very good at initiating conversation…” You wondered what else you could point out. 

“During that time, did Jungkook mention or do anything sexual?” 

“N-no! Of course not! Yoongi, do you take me as the fuck-on-the-first-date kind of person???” You said, slightly offended.

“So you like him.” He stated casually. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You caught feelings. Just admit that Jungkook has officially win you over.”

“I… what…” 

“I knew it. I shouldn’t have let you go on those dates, now both of you are gonna be so gross when we hang out...” You heard your friend groaned. 

“I like him?” You asked, more to yourself rather than to your best friend. 

“Maybe you should call Jungkook instead and tell him.”

You widened your eyes in horror. “No way, that guy only has a crush on me, it’s more of a hyperfixation, like I’m his girl of the month or something. I’m sure it’s not like how you think it is.”

“You should ask him yourself instead of making assumptions, just saying. And you know…” Yoongi paused for a second before continuing. “I think that kid is actually a good person, despite how dumb and annoying he looks.” When he got no respond from you, he spoke again. “Alright, I’ll leave you with your thoughts, just make sure you’ll talk with him about this, okay? Take care, Y/N.” 

Yoongi hang up the call while you were still sitting down, expression blank, staring at the wall in front of you. 

—

Jungkook didn’t text you at all after the date. Not like you text each other regularly, but you lowkey expected him to after. You wanted to call him, or at least text him. You wanted to say how you feel but you were again, scared. You began to think if you were reading it wrong. He was popular, you wondered if he just acted like that to everyone, if you were catching feelings, while he just wanted to hang out and have a bit of fun. After all, he never really explicitly said that he had feelings for you, all you knew that he admitted his giant crush for you while being under the influence of alcohol. 

You never hear from Jungkook again until the next week. Hoseok invited you all to game night over his place. You wanted so badly to bail and fake being sick, but Yoongi picked you up, basically forcing you to come and face your problem like an actual adult.

With all these new and mixed emotions that you were still getting used to, the thought of seeing Jungkook in person sounded so overwhelming. He would probably just act like how he usually would, because of course, why wouldn’t he. After all you were the one who suddenly took a weird turn.

“Finally!” Hoseok shouted, as he opened the door for both of you and Yoongi. 

“Come on, switch with Namjoon, he sucks!” Jin spoke while his eyes still not leaving the TV screen and his fingers loud against the controller. 

They were playing Tekken 8 on Hoseok’s Playstation. You saw how Namjoon was basically getting his ass kicked, playing as a Panda character, while Jin quickly leading himself towards victory using the character that coincidentally has the same name as him. 

Jin Kazama wins. 

The oldest one screamed happily, while Namjoon’s protests and excuses could be heard very loudly. Everyone laughed at the two, so it was easy to spot the one who didn’t laugh as much, whose expression didn’t hold that much excitement, sitting on the edge of the sofa just playing with his phone instead. 

“Y/N, come on!” Jin patted the on the carpet to the now empty seat next to him, since Namjoon already excused himself to get more popsicles from the fridge. 

You followed and sat down next to Jin on the carpet, which was directly in front of Jungkook, who was slouching on the couch. 

Sitting down quietly, you took the controller and beginning to scroll through the rooster of characters. You chose the character named Lili, while Jin stayed with his current main. 

When you beat Jin and the sound of your friends cheering loudly was heard, you began to feel a little bit relaxed, at the very least you could forget for a moment about your situation with Jungkook. That was until, you heard Yoongi spoke. 

“Jungkook, your turn.” 

You immediately turned your head towards your best friend, eyeing him straight. How could he betray you like this was beyond you. 

“Nah, you play I’m not really in the mood.” He rejected politely.

Your eyes went back to the screen because you refused to see Jungkook’s expression. You pretended to busy yourself pressing the dpad button up and down on the character choices. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jungkook refusing a match.” Taehyung said while munching on his potato chips. 

“Yeah, that’s so unlike you, man!” Hobi joined. “Come on, we all know you’re good, but Y/N doesn’t know that yet!” He added. 

A small groan came out from Jungkook’s mouth before he stood up, and once again everyone cheered. Jin stood to switch seats with him. The man locked his eyes with you once, before sitting down and picking up the controller in his hand. He didn’t take too long picking a character. His choice landed on a boxer character. 

The match went quietly with only the sound of the video game from the speaker. Your friends behind you somehow went silent as well, and the atmosphere in the room became very tense. 

“Is it just me or it kinda feels like they’re actually fighting with each other…” Jin whispered to Hoseok who was sitting next to him. Hoseok only signaled with his hand shaking next to his neck to cut it out, while the rest only widened their eyes and try their best not to make any comment. 

You pretended like you did not hear any of it and kept mashing the controller buttons. The milliseconds of your attention being taken away from the game gave your opponent a leaway to break your combo and finally beating down your character. 

Steve Fox wins. 

“All right, Yoongi you switch with me, I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself and headed to the balcony, closing the door behind you. 

Technically it was not a lie. It just got a bit stuffy with eight people inside an apartment living room. Especially when the guy you suddenly had feelings for was in the equation as well. 

You searched your back pocket for your pod and cursed silently when it was nowhere inside your jeans pocket. 

“Looking for your vape?” Jungkook entered the balcony uninvited, wiggling your small disposable vape pod in front of you. But when you were about to take it from him, he withdrew his hand. “I thought you’ve stopped.”

“I did. I only do it when I’m nervous. That’s why it’s a disposable.” You said weakly. 

“I noticed.” He replied in a monotone, now pocketing the pod inside his pants, refusing to give it to you. 

“You smoke, don’t act all high.” You retorted. 

“Well, have you seen me smoke these past few weeks?” 

“No, actually… yeah, now that I think of it, you didn’t even smoke once when we went out—“ You stopped when the memories of your date went through your head. “Jungkook, about that…” You bit your lips, nervously facing him. 

He also turned his body to your direction, looking at you directly. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said. 

“Huh? For what?” 

“I feel like I’ve pressured you into something you don’t actually want. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about it the past few days and it drives me crazy. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t give me the right to drag you along to do stuff with me just because you enjoyed spending time with me as a friend.”

“Wait, Jungkook, I don’t feel that way!”

“I know! That’s why I apologize—“

“No! I mean, I didn’t feel like you dragged me along or anything. I genuinely enjoyed our date and…” You looked away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m not reading it wrong, you’re saying you truly have feelings for me?” 

“Isn’t that obvious already?” 

“Well, I thought I was just your girl obsession of the week or something… You have celebrity crushes left and right, okay?! Hell, you even had a crush on Namjoon at one point!!!” 

“The Namjoon crush was a joke. Man just got some nice thighs and I was just admiring it.” He defended. 

You took another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry as well… the emotions were all just come clashing to me at once and I just told you to go home instead of dealing with it.” 

“But, you rejected my kiss...” He said with a weak voice, you almost didn’t catch it. 

“Cause I haven’t figured out what I want yet. I thought I was just so touch deprived that your lips looked inviting that day.” You admitted while cursing yourself secretly inside your mind. That was lowkey embarrassing. 

“Try being me, your lips look inviting every single day!” He exclaimed, his mood now seemed to be improving. 

“Be serious.” You hit his sides. He muttered an “ow” but you doubted it even hurt the slightest bit. 

“So now you’ve figured out what you want?” His doe eyes looking at you directly. 

“I’m getting there… I guess.” You broke the eye contact, it was a bit too much for you and suddenly you felt a bit sweaty. “But I think I like you too.” 

“Say that again while looking at me.” 

“Hell no.” You suddenly covered your face with both of your hands. 

“Please?” He grabbed your wrists, softly trying to prey open your hands. “I just want to have the visual memory of it captured in my brain.”

When you finally loosened your grip, he took his chance and held both of your hands in his. He grabbed them for a few seconds, intertwining his fingers with yours, before letting them go. He traced his fingers along your right wrist where you wore the bracelet that he got you, the one he got matching with his, and then moved his hands up to cup your face. The entire time he did all that, you could actually feel the shakiness in his hands, and it melted your heart. 

“Can I?”

You nodded and he did not waste any second before dipping in and closing the gap between you. 

Oh boy you were right, his piercings did feel cold against your lips, but that was only for a quick second before everything felt warm and soft, and your mind became blurry. You were moving your lips against his carefully, afraid to accidentally hurt him by his piercing, but instead earned a small bite on your bottom lip from Jungkook. You gasped and pulled away, hitting his chest. Since when were you in his embrace? That you did not know. 

“We gotta head back now or they’ll get suspicious.”

He giggled and kissed your forehead. “They’re already suspicious, babe.” 

“Still, we gotta head back…”

“You guys done making out?! We’re hungry!!!” You heard Jimin shouted from inside the apartment. 

Jungkook and you looked at each other with widened eyes, before laughing in unison. He pecked you on the lips one more time before running back inside with you, holding hands. 

Thank you for reading! 🌸

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hiiiii Robin aka Bird Boy!

Sorry I took a bit longer than usual to reply but dad suddenly decided he’d had enough of the forest and we went back home! I thought maybe it’d be fun to wait a bit longer and show you our house and stuff. I don’t really like moving around all the time but I guess it kinda gives you lots of new stuff to talk about so that’s something.

This is our house! It’s not as big as yours looks but there’s only two of us and we’re not always here so it makes sense that it’s not massive. Dad usually rents it out whilst we’re not here cos he says it’s better for the house that it’s looked after but I know he means it’s better for his bank too lol!! I guess it works out for me though cos he says I can put as many plants as I want in my room as long as I keep them alive so they’d die if we left it empty every time we left. He says it’s like I brought the jungle inside hahaaha, I like it though!

The last person who rented the house was one of dad’s old work friends and he left this cool telescope for me to play with since I’m “so keen about the stars and shit” HIS WORDS! I know you’re supposed to use it at night but it’s kinda fun to spy on people during the day too. Like I’m pretty sure our neighbours are getting a divorce cos I overheard the guy moaning about the lady to my dad once and sometimes you can hear them yelling and see them waving their arms at each other through the window or on the balcony (don’t tell anyone though hahaa!)

I think dad’s kinda happy to be back (look how bushy his eyebrows are though ahahhhahah) he spends a lot of time fishing but I know it’s only a matter of time until he gets itchy and runs out of money again. Half of me wishes he’d get a good job here so we wouldn’t have to move around all the time but the other half is glad to leave. I guess it’s kinda nice here AND I was born here but I don’t even like swimming and there’s water and beaches EVERYWHERE ugh..

I guess I don’t really think Sulani feels like home anymore, not since mom died. It’s pretty and it’s nice but something is always missing so it’s kinda lame too if that makes sense. Maybe that’s why dad likes to leave sometimes too, I’d ask him but he’d probably get upset so maybe not! I was gonna leave that part out cos it’s a bummer but we don’t really keep many secrets from each other so I said it…

Anyway, dad’s a pig and never cleans ANYTHING and I think he got bored of me complaining about how big and heavy the vacuum is cos he got me a cool mini one (it’s a “sorry we move around so much but here’s a present so shh” present but I’ll take it hahaa) he took it off me for a few days after I hoovered some crumbs out of his bed and sucked up his headphones by accident but that’s his fault for eating cookies in bed when he should be sleeping.

Oh and since there’s not many fun rocks to find or dig up here I decided to start up my shell collection again. I found a few nice ones I guess but I really want to find a conch! Dad said they’re pretty rare but you’d think with all the stupid sand and beaches around here that I’d be able to find at least ONE even if it was a tiny one but not yet! I’ll let you know if I do though!

Anyway, I’m kinda sad we left Granite Falls in the end cos it was so close to the holidays I hoped maybe your family would go camping again and we’d be able to explore together again. Hopefully next time we move we’ll move even closer to where you live so there’s more chance we’ll get to see each other! A bird pooped on me the other day though which dad said is supposed to be lucky so I decided to believe him and hope we get to hang out again one day SOON (after I had a shower anyway because EUGH!)

Hope you’re okay and glad to be done with school for the summer!

Love Alex :)

[salemoleander]

"My teeth hurt," Martyn says.

He and Scott are on the deck, enjoying the morning sun before it has the chance to get humid; Scott is busy crafting sugarcane into paper while Martyn is (ostensibly) trying to carve a bowl.

"What, like- cavities? We've only been here for a few days, and I know you're eating the same fish and dried kelp as me." Scott pauses, holding a fresh sheaf of paper. "-and if you're not, and you've been holding sweets out on me, I'll be pissed."

Martyn huffs a laugh, then grimaces when pain shoots up through his sinuses. Ambling over to the table, he half-sits, half-leans on the back of one of their deck chairs.

"Nah, same food as you. Man, I don't know what I did. TNT to the face carry over, d'you reckon?"

He grins, and Scott blanches. Well, shit.

"Alright, what's wrong with my mouth?" Martyn asks, stress rising when Scott doesn't answer. "I've still got teeth, right?"

Scott nods sharply. He wavers on an answer for a moment before sighing. "Yeah. You've just got some new ones, seems like."

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------

The hard part of suddenly having shark teeth, Martyn quickly discovers, is that they are not particularly designed for beings with lips, and certainly not ones that talk.

He tells Scott this, nursing several sore spots on his lips and tongue.

"Have you considered talking less?"

"Oh, screw you."

Scott rolls his eyes, and they go back to sorting through chests in companionable silence. Waves gently lap against the edge of their island, while bamboo canes creak and shift. After a few minutes Scott says, "In the- last time. I remember being relieved, a bit, that even though Cleo and I chose each other-"

"Exactly the conversation I wanted to have," Martyn deadpans.

"Would you shut up? Honestly." Scott smiles, but his jaw flexes as he does and Martyn resolves to shut up and let him say this, whatever it is. At least for the next ten or fifteen seconds. Probably.

"Anyways. I was a tiny bit relieved that I was paired with Pearl, because she was human. And I'd seen how it was for BigB getting canine features and Joel getting whatever the hell from Etho, and you, y'know..."

"Rotting?"

"Eugh. Yeah." Scott looks through their fence-lattice walls and out to the water. "But Pearl didn't stay human."

Martyn raises an eyebrow. (For effect. If Scott is doing a dramatic monologue towards the ocean, Martyn at least gets to make faces, whether or not Scott sees him. Them's the rules.)

"She got kind of... wolf-y? Or more accurately, the game made her wolfy. Not like Ren, not nearly that elegant a combination."

Scott's voice is bitter, an edge to it that Martyn associates with fireworks going off too-close by. "I woke up one morning and my teeth were sharp and there were too many for my mouth. And it hurt, and the worst part was knowing this wouldn't be happening if we'd just done what the game wanted."

Blinking, Martyn says, "Oh." Brilliant. Nailed the response, there.

"I just wanted to tell you. That it might- those might be my fault, because it seems like whatever runs this game doesn't like me very much. There's a reason I set up alone out here."

Martyn- ignoring the ache from his jaw and the kernel of self-interest that tells him to get while the getting is good- scoffs. "None of that, thank you! I don't care if bloody Herobrine has it out for you, we're sticking together."

Relief washes over Scott's face. Martyn adds, "If whoever runs this circus thinks unlimited knives for teeth is a punishment, they're mad."

"Clearly! You were already enough of a menace." Released from whatever tension kept him still, Scott reaches over to flip another chest lid up and starts rifling through. "It's like trying to annoy Joel by giving him too many TNT minecarts."

Martyn snorts. "Right! Once my mouth gets the memo about where everything is now I'll be doing fine- probably better than I was before! A supernatural entity trying to tell me who I can be friends with? C'mon, nothing that stupid is busting the Mean Gills up."

He almost believes it.

[dancingtotuyo]

Home | Part 2

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You and Frankie come to a crossroads

Tags: fluff, angst, family, recovering!frankie, girl dad!Frankie

Warnings: references to past drug use (cocaine), addiction recovery, struggling to cope, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: once again- thank you to the lovely @wannab-urs for beta reading!

I don’t think this is going to turn into a full fledge series but I definitely foresee myself revisiting this little family at least once more.

Words: 2225

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Life either feels like it’s rushing by in a blur or crawling at a snail's pace. Layla is growing like a weed, standing as tall and as straight as a yardstick. You celebrate her third birthday in the summer, filling this old house with smiles and laughter. You wish it could always be this way.

Frankie gets his helicopter license reinstated the year before. It helps, but you still see the struggle in his eyes. Despite his assurances that he’s not touched cocaine since he got busted, you find yourself checking his old hiding places and searching for new ones. You haven’t found anything yet. He’s given no indication of using again, but you see the stress carved out in his forehead and the weight of the world on his shoulders. It feels like a when, not an if. You don’t know how to slow down the barreling train.

Then, one night he’s not home. It’s well past midnight as you sit on the couch wrapped tightly in a blanket staring out the window. You pray for his high beams to blind you. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. He always tells you when he’s coming home. The only pictures you can conjure up are of him snorting lines. The background changes, but you always see the same blown pupils staring back at you.

The night you met, you’d done lines together off Frankie’s dealer’s coffee table. The dealer was dating your roommate at the time. It hadn’t been the first time you used or the last, but you could count the times you had on your hands. You escaped the addiction. Frankie hadn’t.

It’s after 1 am when his headlights finally shine in your eyes. You stay on the couch, not eager to greet what’s coming through your back door. Frankie’s feet are heavy on the back stoop. There’s a pattern, a routine to them. Two knocks on the side of the house, three stomps on the doormat. The rattling storm door opens and then the ever present squeak of the backdoor echoes through the quiet house.

Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself up. Frankie's eyes meet yours as you flick on the kitchen light. It stings both your eyes. You search for any signs of a fading high. He seems calm, a bit shaken but not in a coked out way. His eyes dilate as they should. He catches your careful inspection. “I’m not high.”

You bite your lip. “Then where have you been?”

Deep bags stain under his eyes. His shoulders slump. He looks exhausted. “I went to get high… sat in the alley for hours.”

“Fuckin’ christ, Frankie!” You hiss, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re not sure you can survive another relapse.

“Baby, I didn’t. I told you.” He grabs your hand, voice breaking. He needs you to believe him. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry. I had a bad day and-” a sharp little cry interrupts him, and then another. It reminds you of a kitten. They seem to be coming from his duffel. “Shit.” Frankie drops your hands, rushing over to his duffel.

Carefully, he unzips the bag, catching a ball of black fluff that threatens to escape. Your jaw drops. “Francisco Morales! What the fuck is that?”

He holds the kitten to his chest, fingers scratching behind its ears. It’s tiny, probably not old enough to be weaned from its mother yet. “I saw him in the alley.” The kitten nuzzles into Frankie more. “I couldn’t find any other kittens or the mom. The little guy was all alone.”

“And probably infected with fleas.”

“So, I’ll throw my bag in the dryer.” Frankie shrugs. “and pick up some flea and tick medication tomorrow.”

“We can’t take care of a kitten. We’re not prepared.”

“Can’t say we were prepared to take care of Layla either, but she’s still alive,” A faint smile graces Frankie’s face either from the joke or the way the tiny animal is falling asleep in his solid arms.

You bite your lip. Frankie is tired and worn and barely fighting off the demons, but he’s smiling, maybe even relaxing a little. He chuckles as the kitten perks back up, swatting at Frankie’s fingers.

You sigh. “He has to stay in the bathroom tonight, and he’s going to the vet as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie winks, stepping toward you.

You sigh, letting the night’s tension out. Frankie is here. He’s okay physically. He’s not coked up. Of all the outcomes you spent hours worrying over, this one is sunshine and rainbows. As the tension eases, you feel more inclined toward the kitten. He’s a little ball of midnight fur, not a speck of other color to be seen.

“I swear to god, Frank if he has rabies-”

“Then I’m already dead.” He teases.

You smack his shoulder. “Or any other communicable diseases, I’m going to kill you.”

“He’s just a kitten, Babe.” Frankie smiles, kissing the tuft of fur between his tiny ears.

You sigh. “I’ll grab some newspaper. You’ll have to give him milk.”

“Don’t kittens like milk?”

“He’ll probably get the runs. Cats can’t digest milk.” You shoot Frankie the side eyes, gathering the necessary supplies to get the kitten settled.

Frankie is in the bathroom with him until almost 3 am. You have to admit. You almost feel bad leaving the tiny animal alone. Almost. The last thing you need is a flea infestation.

Frankie eventually curls up next to you, sighing as he nuzzles into your neck. “Think he’ll be okay?”

“You found him in an alley. One night curled up on a towel in our bathroom won’t hurt him.”

“Layla is going to love him.”

A laugh sputters from your lips. “If she doesn’t choke him to death. We’re still working on gentle hands.”

Frankie’s laugh joins yours from deep within him. It’s the kind that brings a smile, a true one, about. It’s something that’s been rare as of late.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His hands wander haplessly. You bite your lip, soaking in the feeling of his warm hands across your body as you remember how close you came to losing this tonight.

He kisses your neck. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You always worry me.”

Frankie inhales sharply, squeezing you tighter. His lips play at your ear. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is.”

“Addiction is a disease, Frankie.”

He huffs, never accepting that response. He feels guilty. He feels responsible for getting hooked on coke, putting you through hell and back.

“If I never-”

“If you never- we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have met. We wouldn’t have Layla.”

Frankie sighs, dropping his forehead into your shoulder. You feel the hot tears slipping down your neck. Kissing his head, you thread your fingers through his thick brown curls. Something else is waging war inside him and you think he may finally tell you.

“I think I almost died tonight.”

Your fingers still. Frankie pulls back so that he can look you right in the eyes. The moonlight flickers off of them in your favorite way. “What happened?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nothing. I looked at that alley for so long tonight. I just had a feeling that if I went in, there was no coming back.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. You’ve felt it too, the boulder hanging over your heads, like a sixth sense. If Frankie slips again, there’s no coming back, and relapse has felt so close.

He clenches your pillow in his fist. More tears pour from his eyes. “And what’s worse is the only thing that kept me from it was that damned cat.”

You thumb away one of his tears. “I don’t think that’s true, Frank.”

“I was about-”

“And how long did you sit there before the cat showed up?”

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe two. It took me just as long to catch the cat.”

You stifle a laugh, caressing his cheek. “He might’ve given you a reason to walk away, but I don’t think that cat is the only reason you didn’t relapse tonight.”

“We need to do a better job at talking.”

You nod. “Agreed.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep checking my hiding spots.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You know about that?”

“Yeah,” Frankie nods. “And I don’t blame you either.

You stare at him for a moment. His eyes seem clearer today than they have in months. He’s warm against you. He’s home, and he’s your Frankie.

“Will you tell me what happened in Colombia? What really happened?”

He sucks in a breath, rolling onto his back. His hand travels to the meat of your thigh. He squeezes and rubs as if he’s self-soothing. “Please don’t leave.”

It comes out just above a whisper. Your heart clenches. This is why he won’t talk about it. Not because of the trauma, but because he’s scared you’ll walk away from him after. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He takes in a long breath, holding it, and then releasing it. Then, he recounts it all until the sun is peeking through your bedroom windows.

As predicted, Layla is obsessed with the kitten the moment Frankie brings him out. You give him a bath before you let her touch him, treating him with flea and tick medication Frankie grabbed from the grocery store that morning.

Once he’s bathed and treated, the three of you sit on the kitchen floor for hours with the newest member of your family. You’re exhausted and you see the same in Frankie from not sleeping the night before, but your daughter is enthralled by the kitten as the two of them stay occupied with an old shoelace. Nap time is a long way off.

Layla throws a fit to get the kitten to take a nap with her, but you stand firm. He needs at least 24 hours for the flea medication to do its job. You and Frankie fall into sun-soaked sheets once she’s down. Your eyes drift close immediately and Frankie pulls you flush against him.

“Kitten needs a name.” He mumbles.

“Never said it was staying.”

“Ya didn’t need to.”

“You name him. You’re the one who brought him home.”

It’s quiet for a second. Your brain slips further into darkness.

“Cocaine.”

“What?”

“His name. I went into the alley to find Cocaine and I found him.”

You sit up, eyes bleary, but sleep the furthest thing from your mind now. “Our three-year-old daughter is not going to yell out for Cocaine, Frankie.”

His chest shakes with laughter, a smile dancing on his lips. “C’mon. It’s cute. She can call him Coke.” You cross your arms across your chest. Frankie sees none of it, eyes still closed. “... or Coco. That’s cute.”

You huff. Frankie still doesn’t seem to notice but pulls you back down against him instead. “Said I could name him, babe.”

“She’s not calling him Cocaine.”

You fall asleep to Frankie’s deep chuckle.

To Layla, he’s Coco. Frankie calls him a rotation of things like Coke and Cokey, his actual name, and sometimes Little Shit. You call him Crack from the way he zooms through the house at all times of the day.

Layla is obsessed with her newest little pal, always wanting him to be in her room or bed, or to take him to the grocery store, but he spends the nights curled up in your bed – usually around Frankie’s legs.

The times that little Cocaine Morales isn’t flying through your home on a fruitless hunt, he’s curled up somewhere. If Frankie is home, you can find him on his lap, or riding his shoulder. You know he’s much more than a cat to Frankie.

You like having him too. He’s brought joy into your home. It’s a joy that had become rare- only showing up for Layla’s milestones and sparing minutes. You know it’s not just Cocaine. It’s what he represents. He’s a marker for the night things changed for the better.

You and Frankie are talking about it all, the nightmares, the demons. Something that’s been absent for too much of your relationship. You both have begun to seek out help, separately and together. You don’t check Frankie’s hiding spots anymore. The deep, swelling love you’ve always had for him once again bubbles over, filling every crack and crevice of your home. Frankie is more present, more attentive. Slowly but surely, ghosts flee one by one.

Layla’s nickname for the kitten dies the moment Uncle Ben walks into your Labor Day cookout. From the moment on, she spends her time calling out for Cocaine. Her plethora of uncles are a gaggle of hidden chuckles and mischief each time. You shoot glares their way, but you can’t help but find it just as cute.

This thing that nearly tore your family apart, is now something you laugh about bundled into a cute little ball of black fur. The catalyst for things getting better.

There are still dark days, but they’re few and far between. While the thoughts play through Frankie’s mind from time to time, he never returns to the alley.

[t3a-tan]

What would James do if he found a borrower child by themselves? Especially if Oliver wasn’t there to help?

Oh I don't know... Probably something like... This!! >:)

---

"Oliver?"

James was a bit surprised to hear something fall in his kitchen— mainly because Oliver usually greeted him when he arrived…not to mention that he told James just a couple days ago that he would be busy for the week and wouldn't be visiting during that time.

James turned off the TV and stood up, doing some much needed stretching after having sat down lazing about for most of the day. He paused as he heard more rattling in the kitchen, growing concerned. Oliver hadn't responded…was he stuck somewhere?

"You okay, mate? Did something happen and you had to come by early or did you just miss my handsome face that much." He added a bit of humour to his words as he walked into the kitchen, immediately recognizing that the noise had been coming from the sink. His eyes widened. "Shit— hold on…"

Without wasting any time he carefully picked up the various dishes and cups that were piled in the sink in an effort to find where Oliver had managed to get himself trapped. He wouldn't have been too worried if not for the fact that the dishes were all currently soaking in warm water, and if Oliver was stuck then he might also not be able to breathe.

Eventually his hand brushed against something that didn't feel like dishes or bits of food that were floating about it the water, and without even checking to make sure he was correct James hastily pulled his friend out of the water, making sure to pick up the plate that had trapped his leg first to avoid injury. He pulled the plug out too to keep the incident from repeating.

"Fuck— are you okay? Please don't drown in my sink, that would be a...a… um." James trailed off, freezing up as he watched a young child shuddering and hacking up water whilst in his hands.

"You aren't Oliver…" He murmured, slightly in awe of that fact. He hadn't held another borrower besides Oliver before— he had interacted very distantly with some borrowers that Oliver was in the process of rescuing once, but they hadn't spoken a word to him…let alone allowed him to carry them.

It was surreal. Even though Oliver let James poke and prod and carry him as much as James wanted (with permission of course), it never felt that crazy because…well… Oliver acted very normal. Sometimes James even forgot he was the size of his thumb if he hadn't looked at him for a while.

This was different, because this was new. Oliver had never put much significance to James carrying him or touching him, but he had always reminded James not to grab or touch or pick up any other borrowers he found—

Oh.

"Uhh hey kid. You alright?" James spoke, thankful that the boy was at least awake. Coughing up the water was a good sign, right? Better than not coughing it back up at least… James leaned in closer to try to see how the child was doing physically.

He was rewarded with a terrified squeal, one that startled him so bad he very nearly dropped the poor kid. Not that it would have mattered, because the kid scrambled back away from his face so quickly that they toppled over the edge of his palm anyway.

"Shoot—"

James's hands quickly shot down to catch them, and he was relieved when his fingers managed to catch on the kid's little bag. For a moment James was intrigued by the tiny pack, only to quickly focus on the panicking kid that was kicking and shoving at the air in hopes of escaping.

"Careful there, kid. Here, I'll put you down…nice and gentle, see? Nothing to be— hey!" James was in the process of lowering the tiny child onto the kitchen counter, but the moment he released them they made a run for it. James didn't hesitate to slam his hand down in front of them, stopping the kid in their tracks.

"I'm not done with you yet, kid. Will you just— OW! Fu—rick..!" James cursed (or almost did) as he suddenly found the sharp end of a sewing needle getting jabbed into the base of his thumb. He thought borrowers carried those to fight off predators! Why was this kid stabbing him??

Once the initial shock of the needle wore off it no longer hurt, and so James pulled it out with ease. He shoved it in his pocket before levelling the kid with furrowed brows and a deep frown on his face.

"Right then you—"

"P-please don't kill me..!" A tiny cry of terror caused all of James's frustrations to disappear in the blink of an eye. He watched with halted breath as the child curled into a shaking ball and covered their head…cowering. From him.

James's heart sunk. Oliver said other borrowers would be scared, but he never explained how scared. James had always assumed they'd be more nervous than terrified— Oliver after all had zero fear of James when they first met. He was the one approaching James after all.

But here James was, looming over a tiny kid who apparently thought he was a murderer. James's hand fell away from the counter quickly, now hovering close by with worry.

"Hey now… I'm not gonna…kill you." Despite his attempt at reassurance the kid remained curled up in terror. James sighed. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking— didn't notice you were so scared. I won't do anything to you, okay? I'm just surprised. Oliver said I didn't have any borrowers in my house."

Thinking that maybe mentioning he knew what borrowers were might help. It seemed he was off his game today…

The tiny child's wide eyes turned onto him, face as pale as a ghost. James bristled, not expecting such a visceral response.

"I'm… I'm not a bad human." The words left James's mouth, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than reassuring the kid at that moment. He had taken Oliver's nonchalance for granted it seemed, because right now he felt like nothing more than a monster.

The kid had gone back to burying their head in their knees, visibly shaking, silently heaving in a way that made it clear they were crying. James felt worse and worse for the kid by the second.

"How old are you..? Where are your parents?" James wished Oliver was here. He would know what to do— not to mention that this kid wouldn't be shit scared of him.

After receiving no response, James reached forward slowly, very lightly tapping the child's back to check if they had heard him.

"T-ten…! I don't know where they are— p-please let me go…" They sobbed, now openly crying without their face buried in the fabric of their shoddily made clothing. James winced.

He would let the kid go… but if they didn't know where their parents were then that wasn't a good idea. But was keeping them a much better one? Would Oliver be mad at him for keeping them? Would he be mad if he let a kid go alone?

He decided not to respond to the plea, focusing on the answers he had received instead.

"Are you lost? I can get you back home if you need it, kid. No fare to pay either." He joked, but neither he nor the child laughed. He doubted the tiny child even understood what a fare was.

"L-let me go…." They begged again. James pursed his lips awkwardly, not responding. If he said no the kid would panic more, and if he said yes then he'd be lying.

"I have chocolate..? Even borrower kids must love chocolate, huh? Let me fetch it…" James moved back away from the tiny kid, although he hesitated while looking down at them from this perspective. They were so tiny… being around someone as confident and assertive as Oliver had made him forget just how minuscule and fragile borrowers were compared to him.

"I'll… hang on." He turned, rummaging through a cabinet and trying not to focus too hard on how colossally he must be screwing things up. "Where did I..? Did I finish it or something…? Oh! Here—"

When James finally found the fruit and nut chocolate bar he turned back to the kid only to find an empty countertop, with a little puddle of dishwater left in their place. He saw wet prints and followed them to one of his outlet covers which was slightly askew… the kid had escaped.

Rather than calling out and scaring them more, James sighed. He looked down at his hand, trying to remember what it felt like to hold them in it moments ago. He then shook his head, putting the chocolate bar down on the counter before pulling the sewing needle back out of his pocket and putting it down next to it. He glanced towards the wall the kid was probably currently hiding in. Hiding from him.

"Your needle is on the side… and chocolate. I'm going out, okay? Just don't get hurt please." He spoke with a slightly raised tone to make sure they heard him. Then, with some hesitation, James stepped away from the counter. He put on his shoes, grabbed his keys and left.

Please don't die.

[wildpeachfarm]

Just saw a thumbnail for a commentary YouTuber commenting on the ‘dream vs Connor’ situation, and it was awful. The comments however seem to be proving that the greater internet is finally starting to see all these fake CCs for what they are, and also how horrid the treatment of Dream is. So I guess that’s nice, cause YouTube is where the core fanbase is for Dteam and seeing a majority of them on their side right now is amazing.

Irrelevant CCs continue to prove one thing. They’re irrelevant for a reason. Their entire content is based on shitting on someone els-which is fleeting, and adhering to a mob that will turn its back on them the second they make a mistake. And none of them can handle being in dreams shoes, cause they get just a teeniest taste and cave immediately.

They couldn’t make the drituation stick, and the gogcident seems to be more on George’s side now, everyone is airing out petty grievances against Dteam, and they’re all looking like fools. I could cry. We’ve waited for days like this. The Brighton bastards pissed off the commentary YouTubers, which is NOT something you want to do. I never thought I’d see the day. Twitter is still Twitter, but everywhere else is starting to realize things.

Caiti shot herself in the foot by taking this whole thing public, and her friends solidified the beginning of the end for her by doing what they did. George may have “lost” on Twitter, and some of his “friends” may have publicly turned on him, but her career is done. She lost her passion and outside of Twitter, no one really believes a word she says.

Who knew it’d take a misguided, reactionary 19 year old to catapult the general public opening their eyes to the vitriol Dteam has been facing for years? And her friends airing out their petty grievances was the nail in the coffin. I said continuously during my four years in this fandom that the tides will change for Dream, and people will be making exposés on how the internet treated him. I don’t think it’s quite that time yet, but we are getting close.

I feel for Caiti in the sense that losing your passion for something you once loved sucks. I’ve been there and it’s awful. But she brought it upon herself the second she removed her autonomy in the situation and didn’t even listen to George’s response. That is the bare minimum of what she should have done, and she didn’t, so she created her own end, albeit probably unintentionally.

To the anon doom posting about Sapnap leaving George, go back to Twitter or TikTok. That energy isn’t wanted here. If Sapnap and George didn’t leave Dream during the drituation, they’re not going to leave George when he makes a mistake. They’ve all clearly stated they love each other, and having known each other for over a decade, it would take a lot to lose a friendship that deep and with that kind of longevity. We were walking on eggshells for a bit, but that’s his brother. Take your doomposting elsewhere.

Sorry this is more of a ramble; had a lot to say and needed a place to go with it. Appreciate my morning tea, always.

One last thing.

It will never be Dteamover.

Proud dteamolo right here. (With the caveat of Sam cause he’s never wavered from those boys)

-L :)

always a pleasure to hear from you L!

And yeah I am surprised to hear that apparently youtube is taking Dream's side with the connor stuff (so far?) but I will take a win no nonetheless!

Crazy how much this has spiraled but at least people are giving dteam at least a TINY benefit of doubt now

[aouboomseries]

title: better love a dream

fandom: pluto the series

wc: 655 words

aioon character study drabble, oonmay mentioned

🌌✨🌌✨🌌

just a little something i wrote after the first episode, might expand on it and post on ao3 another time ^__^ enjoy reading, pls reblog and lmk your thoughts if u do!

Aioon has never been in love. She's always had other things in life to think about.

When she was a child, she supposes other little girls dreamt of getting married, having children—of finding someone safe and strong to hold onto, through the good and the ugly, and never letting go. Aioon was not a little girl that dreamt of falling in love. Instead, she dreamt of getting rich and going somewhere far away. She dreamt of her grandmother's hand on her shoulder, saying she was proud of her. She dreamt of for once being right and getting her sister to admit she was wrong.

She knew some little girls prayed to God that their dreams would come true. Aioon thought that if there really was a God, she wouldn't have to wish so badly for her own family to like her.

Aioon did not pray (but at least, neither did Oaboom).

Growing up, Aioon was a troublemaker. Quick to start a fight, antagonistic to teachers and school counselors and bosses at part-time jobs alike, loud with nothing particularly important to say. People didn't expect much from her, and though the part of her that dreamed may have wanted to prove them all wrong and crush those expectations to bits, the bigger (jealous, bitter, awful) part of her knew it was futile. Why should she work so hard to be half-decent at things her snobby sister already did with perfect ease?

And of course the one time she does try, makes that idiotic bet with all the confidence and none of the planning, it ends in mindless violence and humiliation. It ends in a guilt so heavy it follows her around for years in the form of her sister's resentful scrutiny. Aioon knows the lines of her own face so well when angry because of Oaboom.

Having a twin is a funny thing, see.

Pang once dated a talk therapist, whose specialty was in Marriage and Family. If she hadn't been on her best behavior the one time they'd met, in case the situationship with Pang happened to last more than two weeks (it didn't), Aioon would have asked her:

What does it mean to be so angry at someone with your own face that on your worst days, you flinch at the sight of her staring back at you in the mirror? What does it mean when the thing you're secretly most afraid of is that you've actually been the evil twin all along?

(Why does one of you have to be evil, Pang had asked when Aioon confessed this months later, both of them splayed on Pang's tiny couch and drunk on cheap wine.

In the movies, one of them is always evil. It's like. Rule #1 of being a twin.

That's not a rule, Pang said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Anyway, people aren't totally good or evil. We just sometimes make good decisions and sometimes make bad ones. She was very wise even with half a bottle of rosé in her.

You're full of shit, Aioon had snickered and thrown a pillow at her face. She had mostly done it so she wouldn't have to think about all the many, many, many bad decisions she'd made in her life.)

It makes sense that in all her years of not-trying in an effort to distance herself from her sister's Aioon-but-better face and Aioon-but-better life, she would still end up here—suffering the consequences of Oaboom's selfish pride and her own stupidity. Digging her own grave while her sister lays unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, dangerously close to hers. Making another one of those bad evil twin decisions.

Aioon has never been in love, and she does not pray to God. Aioon has never once gotten close to the things she selfishly dreamed and wished for as a child.

But touching May, she thinks, is the closest she's been to any of it.

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.4

summary : A week of not so secret flirting, drunken parties, and being surrounded by your best friends; it ends with a promise and a kiss.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : suggestive comments!! kissing! language!! all done <33 thanks for all the love recently i truly love you all. pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

word count : 3324 + tiny bit of smau

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My feet are freezing but my torso is warm. My head hurts and when I move to sit up in bed, I'm yanked back down by a weight over my waist.

What? I eye the arm over me and trail it all the way to the man next to me. No.

I practically throw his arm off me but he doesn’t wake up, just stirs a bit and tugs on the blanket. It moves down his bare chest to reveal his tanned abs.

I’m in my pajamas. My hair is knotted. My head is pounding. I hit Lando with a pillow.

“Norris!”

He groans, turning away from me and mumbling. Once he realizes the person yelling at him is in his bed, he blinks at me. “What could be so important that you’re waking me up by pillow?” His morning voice is deep and scratchy.

“What the fuck am I doing here!?” I remember going out. I don’t remember making my way into Lando’s bed!

He rolls his eyes then closes them. I hit him again, “Hey!”

“Lando!” I yell again, then my hand goes to my mouth and my eyes widen, “We didn’t…”

He looks genuinely offended, “Give me some credit, Pretty. You’d know.” His arms go to the back of his head, a slight smirk on his face.

I screw my face up, “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” I hit him again, “Okay! Okay! You came here to get your purse but you were shit drunk and wouldn’t leave.”

Shit. “Oh.” I do not recall this at all. I cross my arms. “You couldn’t have slept on the couch?”

“You crashed my bed!” I remember him calling me beautiful.

I groan and stand up, pulling my hair up and finally spotting my purse. The floor is freezing and I can feel Lando’s eyes on me as I cross his room.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night?” I turn back so see him leant over the bed, the comforter dangerously low on his waist.

I turn back and pretend to look in my bag, “I don’t remember anything after my third shot and you dancing with that girl.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say right as it leaves my mouth.

“Oh… So you got drunk because you were jealous.” I don’t need to turn around to know he’s smirking.

“Goodbye Lando.” I make my way to the door.

“You’re not denying it!” He yells after me.

I shake my head and grab the door handle, “Truce, Norris. Don’t forget it!”

⋆༺

My friends and I meet for breakfast, gossiping about the locals and everything that happened last night. “You didn’t answer when I knocked this morning.” Rebecca looks at me while stirring her coffee.

“Hot night?” Alex teases as I make eye contact with Lily who’s smirking.

“I must have just been asleep…” My tone is less than convincing and me being late to breakfast didn’t help either. “You can’t freak out.”

I tell them about waking up next to Lando, their jaws dropped and their hands paused on utensils. Lily is the least shocked but definitely the most disappointed when I share that I didn’t have sex with him.

“Ok i’m officially freaking out!” Kika drops her fork, shaking her head as I prepare for the million questions they have for me.

⋆༺

LANDO

“Last day!” Pierre claps his hands together as we walk down the streets of turkey. The girls’ absence is very noticeable because my friends are fully attentive this morning.

“I’m sad.” Carlos sighs, “I don’t want to go back to real life.”

“I’m excited to go back!” Alex shrugs, looking around the white buildings, “I miss my cat.”

“I don’t know.” I say, “I've enjoyed this trip a lot. But I do need a break from you muppets.”

Charles hits my arm, “You only enjoyed it so much because you finally stopped toying around with Y/n.”

“Truth!” Pierre laughs, “I think you two are a great addition to the group. I mean you’re already in it but now everyone has a couple.

I eye him. “We’re not a couple. She barely likes me as it is.”

Carlos shakes his head, “Mate… She definitely likes you more than ‘barely’. Y/n may be strong willed but I've never seen her blush so much.”

I roll my eyes and pretend like that doesn’t make me like her more. “We’re friends. I think.”

“You think?” Charles raises a brow.

“I guess.” I say.

“Lando!” Carlos practically screams and slaps his hands down on my shoulders, “You need to ask her out.”

“I’m not asking her out! She’s scary as fuck.”

“Pussy.” Pierre and Alex cough at the same time as I side eye them.

“You’re just scared she’s gonna reject you.” Carlos says in my ear as I elbow him in the stomach, “Ow!”

“Fuck off and let’s go.”

⋆༺

YOU

I know he’s staring at me. I know he’s not trying to cover it up. I know he wants me to look back.

And I know I look good as hell.

“Norris!” Carlos calls from the water, “Come on!”

Lando doesn’t respond so I assume he shook his head because I don’t hear him getting up. I open my eyes and tilt my sunglasses down just as a smile breaks out on Lando’s face.

I suddenly understand the extent of why women fall at his feet. He’s got glasses on but his smile makes me want him to break my heart.

“Wanna go swim?”

I’m laying on my stomach so I rest my head against my warm arm and respond, “Go swim with Carlos.”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to swim with Carlos.”

“Too bad. So sad.” I close my eyes again as I hear him mumble something under his breath.

“Wanna talk about your little jealously streak then?”

I sit up and face the water, “You’re one to talk.” He gives me a look to which I pull my sunglasses back on my head to fully look at him, “You gave that waiter a death glare!”

“He was being weird.”

I shake my head and laugh, “He was asking if I wanted parmesan!”

Lando does not look amused, playing around with his camera, “Parmesan is just where it starts…”

“So what? It’s cheese then asking to fuck me?”

He crosses his arms on the tanning chair, “Exactly.”

I breathe out, looking out at our friends in the water and the clear skies. “You shouldn’t care about that, Lando.”

“I can’t help it.” He shuffles around, snapping a few pictures as he nonchalantly says, “You looked good in my bed.”

I turn to him again, trying to actually see if he’s being serious but his face doesn’t crack into a smile. I’m speechless. And it’s embarrassing. “I- No.” I place my feet onto the sand and quickly stand, pulling off my sarong as I walk down the beach.

He follows me, of course he does.

“Don’t hide, Pretty. You blushing because of me is a lovely sight.” His fucking smile, god!

I’m frustrated that I can’t act cool around him all of the sudden, “Why don’t you look at the very beautiful ocean right in front of us!?”

He doesn’t even glance at the view, “I prefer you.”

My lips pull together in a thin line, “I can’t stand you.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion…” he steps forward and whispers, “that you can.”

I swallow and accidentally make eye contact with Lily who is smirking at us. I know they can’t hear what he’s saying but it still makes me nervous. “I’m sorry for last night.” It’s all I can think to say.

“I think we already established that it was no problem.” Right because he liked me in his bed! Kill me now. “Don't worry. We’ll have a redo soon enough.”

He starts walking away from me as I gasp, “A redo!? Lando what do you mean!?”

He starts walking backward, slowly. “One on both our terms? One with two sober attractive people?” He raises a brow.

I cross my arms but honestly want to laugh. I walk closer, “Keep dreaming, Norris.”

“It’s called manifesting, actually!” Is all he says before picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder. It takes me so off guard that I can’t help my scream.

“Lando!”

I can hear the smirk in his voice, his hands gripping my legs, “Scream my name, Pretty.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m looking at her again.

A little less admiring this time because i’m holding back a laugh as she tries to take Pierre down in a game of chicken.

She’s on Carlos’ shoulders while Charles has Pierre sat on his. Everyone is laughing around us as they watch the four.

I don’t even realize the man next to me until he clears her throat, “Hey man.” He’s american.

“Hi.” I think he’s going to ask for picture or something but then he looks up at Y/n and I get a sick sort of feeling that this is my karma for teasing her.

He looks back at me and gives me a cheesy grin, “I’m Nate.”

I nod slowly, “Hi Nate.”

“Mine telling me your friend's name?” Ok rude. He didn’t even ask for mine. I hate him.

“Carlos?” I blink, pointing to the man.

Nate laughs a bit awkwardly, ���Nah man… The hot girl on his shoulders.”

“Oh.” I eye him, my disdain obvious, “That’s Y/n.”

“Y/n, huh? She single?” I give him a look to which he looks frightened at, His hand goes to my shoulder and I fight the urge to step back, “Shit! She’s not your girl, is she?”

“Um…” Everything in me wants to say yes. “No. No she’s not.”

He hums, “Right… I know that look. I’ll back off, I get it.” He’s grinning like he knows all my secrets, “Sorry to bother you.” I think he’s going to leave but he stops, “Man also- in my experience, it’s not a good sign, guys asking you about her.”

He leaves.

What the fuck? I finally get the girl to tolerate me and now everyone thinks I'm supposed to fall at her feet and beg her?

Yeah I'll do it.

⋆༺

YOU

The day has flown by, with the sun burning us one last time and our lunch at the best local place where the chef adores us. I’m sad to go. Even If we still have this last night.

Dinner is slow and quiet, we’re all pretty tired but comment on little things around us.

I’m in a long dark blue dress, my favorite for our last night. Lando’s next to me and by the end of our dinner, he rests his head on my shoulder. I say nothing because I like his closeness.

Kika clears her throat, “This was an amazing trip and I'm very glad I got to enjoy it with you lot. I’m very very thankful for everyone here, and how our little group operates.”

Pierre rubs her back, “I’m thankful for hotel beds. And mojitos and sunscreen.” I laugh as Alex starts.

“I’m grateful for fish and sunglasses.”

Lily shakes her head, “I’m thankful for my lovely friends and for all the amazing food we ate! Plus me beating Lando in golf.”

Lando groans next to me, “I’ll get you one day, Lil.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for the ocean! And boat rides and night swims.”

“I’m grateful for spas and books!” Alexandra joins in.

Charles smiles at her lovingly, “I’m thankful for friends and cooking classes.” God that seems like forever ago.

“I’m thankful for golf as well!” Carlos grins, “And wine.”

Rebecca laughs and squeezes his hand, “I’m grateful for morning yoga and sunsets.”

Lando doesn’t sit up when it’s his turn, just stays resting on my shoulder, “I’m thankful for my camera and all the pretty views I've captured.” His foot nudges mine.

I blink, looking down at him as he just stares forward. Kika grins and holds up her glass, “To us!” I join as we all hold up our respective drinks.

“To us!” We repeat and cheers, Lando’s head leaving my shoulder as he holds up his water.

“You know…” Pierre looks around at us, “I’m not very tired.”

Carlos grins and taps his finger against the table, “It’s our last night…”

Lily laughs and stands, “Beach bar!”

⋆༺

The thought of drinking makes me feel sick so I stick to water. Lando is nursing a drink but it’s the same one I've seen him with all night.

I catch his eye while he’s talking to the bartender, he smiles softly and makes his way over to me immediately.

“Hi.” Hi? I don’t think Lando’s ever said Hi to me.

“Hello…?”

He leans against the bar as the music gets louder, “Fun night?”

I nod, sipping my water as someone bumps into us. He drunkenly apologizes before Lando looks at me again, “Want to go for a walk?”

I find walking down the beach at night with Lando far too often… Not that i’m complaining.

His drink is gone and his shoes are in his hand as mine are in mine, “Accomplish everything you wanted to?”

“Accomplish?” I laugh, “Do you go to every vacation with a to-do list?”

He shrugs shyly, “Maybe a mental one. Like I knew I needed to jet ski. I didn’t know it would end up with an attempted drowning…”

I scoff and hit his arm, “I wish your dramatic ass did drown.”

He just grins, “You’re remarkably bad at lying.”

I shake my head, looking back at him, “It’s something about you… You call me out on everything.”

“Because it’s so easy to catch. Even if you’re joking… you bite your lip a bit. No matter the lie.”

I frown, “You notice things like that?”

He looks past me at the water, then back to me. His face is shaded but the moonlight helps see his features, “I notice a lot of things about you.”

“If you told me that a week ago… I would have laughed in your face.”

“It didn’t just start this week. You just avoided me at every chance you got before this trip, but you’re hard to miss.”

I’m walking backwards now, looking at his loose button down and his hand in his pocket, “Are you saying you watched me, Norris?”

“I don’t think you understand that you’re very interesting to watch.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “And don’t you dare call me creep. I know you do it too.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for you, Lando.”

His brows raise, “Am I being pranked…?” He comes to a stop as I push his shoulder back.

“I am. You bug the good out of me.”

He sets down his shoes, the music and lights from the beach bar far away but still seen and heard softly. “I’m glad you think so.”

It surprises me when his hand goes to my waist, “What are you doing?” I say quickly.

“Humor me.” Is all he says as his other hand meets my waist for the second time. I move my arms to his shoulders, my hand behind his head.

“Do you dance with all your friends by moonlight?” We sway a bit together.

He smiles again, his eyes so bright even in the dark, “I can tell you in confidence that this is a Y/n special. But you hurt me a bit.”

I raise a brow, “What?”

“Friendzoned while thinking about kissing you isn’t a fun thing.” My heart rate starts up.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me. When we get back.” I watch him talk so close to me, “No hostess forcing us together or shitty small talk. Come on, Pretty. For real.” He’s so beautiful and so nice and so funny.

“We don’t live close. Lando, you travel-”

“Fuck that. I’m asking you on a date in Monaco because I like you, a lot. If nothing else was in the way, what would you say?” He seems almost nervous and it makes me smile because he never shows this side of him.

“I would say yes.” I can’t help it. “But those things are very real and…”

“And?” He raises a brow, a smile replacing his nervous face.

I can’t help but smile, “And I like you. Maybe too much…” this makes his grin widen. “But still!”

“I can fly. I don’t know if you know this…” he leans in closer to whisper in my ear, “But I have some extra money.”

I pretend to push away but he holds me tight, “One date.”

He nods, repeating my words, “One date.”

“Our friends will freak out.”

“They’ll love it.”

“I know they will.” I shake my head, “I swear this was just a ploy to get us together.”

He laughs, “It worked, didn’t it?”

I laugh with him because he’s correct. I started this week with a bad attitude and a need for sun. I’m leaving it with a pretty boy and tanned skin.

“You still don’t know a lot about me.” We sway.

Lando shrugs, our faces extra close now, “I know you can talk for hours. I’ll listen.”

And I know he’s not lying.

“I’m annoying a lot of the time.”

He nods far too theatrically, “Trust me, I know!” I step on his foot but he just uses it as a way to bring me closer. I can hear his breathing and when I meet his eyes again, they’re soft and kind, “One more thing.”

“Go for it, Norris.” I’m whispering but I don’t know why.

There’s no one around, just the faint sound of music and waves crashing. “Can I kiss you?” It’s something so simple that I want to cry.

I smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Norris.” He gives me a look, “Yes, Lando. You can kiss me anytime.”

And so he does.

⋆༺

LANDO

She smells like coconuts and tastes like mint. Her lips are soft against mine.

Our first kiss was on this beach, but it was different. It was hungry and intrigued. I was drunk and she was ethereal.

Now, she’s still beautiful but I'm not drunk. She’s soft. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. She’s soft against me, his hands brush my neck and cheek, I can feel her smile against me.

Her kiss is something writers dream about and something I’ve imagined in a million different scenarios.

The start of this trip, my main goal was to tease and bug her until she broke. My goal now has been fulfilled with her promise of a real date and her kissing me like I actually mean something to her.

I like that I mean something to her.

She pulls back, her hands on my neck and in my hair, “You’re really beautiful too, you know.” Her lipgloss is smudged and her dress is getting wrinkled under my touch.

I take her in, every inch of her. I want to burn this moment in my brain forever. I haven’t stopped smiling for hours and it’s all because of her. “You’re amazing.”

She laughs, “You don’t have to one up my compliment.” I really didn’t mean to even try.

“I’m serious.” Her face tells me she understands suddenly, “Thank you, Y/n. You really are my favorite surprise this trip.”

She smiles, her hand on my chest, “I never believed our friends. They used to say how great we’d be together.”

“They’re geniuses and I owe them my life.” I shrug as she laughs my favorite laugh in the world: the one where I make her head drop and her teeth show.

“I’m sorry I ever was mean to you.”

“That’s alright…” I push back a strand of her hair, “Everyone needs a bit of foreplay.”

LANDONORRIS

landonorris DUMP FROM MARMARIS!! I miss it and I hate the rain.

username262 : TAN LANDO IS BACK

↳ username32 : he’s literally always tan i’m jealous

yourusername : 😊☀️

↳ landonorris :😋🫵

↳ username123 : what…?

username01 : who is the girl lando??

↳ username44 : his friend!! him and some drivers + girlfriends were on the trip

↳ username56 : interesting that they were the only single ones there…

pierregasly : let’s go back

charlesleclerc : alexandra is already planning another one (this time as a true couples trip)

↳ landonorris : WOAHHH SHHH

landofan4 : she’s sooo pretty istg how do these men pull these women!?

↳ username628 : they’re not even confirmed??

↳ username25 : trust me they will be in a month.

carlossainz : maybe you won’t suck at golf next time

↳ lilymunihe : not likely.

kikagomez : treat her poorly and i’ll punch you

↳ yourusername : punch him!

↳ landonorris : i haven’t even done anything?? and i wont!!!

maxfewtrell : thanks for the invite

alexalbon : I love the part of this dump where the only solo pics are of you and Y/n……..🤨🤨🤨🤨

↳ yourusername : funny alex my favorite part is the same thing😁😁😁

[chainedupgirlsblog]

✎ Commentary of Ep 6 ~ The Loyal Pin (Thai GL-2024) - Part 1

This episode’s summary according to Prik:

Yeah... Pretty much this episode was full of (squeaking sound) and Princesses rolling in bed like lovesick teenagers. I mean, look at Anin’s face. She did it! She won lesbianism and achieved the impossible, got her woman.

Congratulations, Princess! You’re one step ahead of all of us 😭👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

This is gonna be a long one again. I’d recommend get comfortable as I catch up!

We start right where we left off and Oh. My. God. They’re the cutest, softest, hottest, i can’t even explain how much I loved this scene. It’s just so 🤌🏼

First they’re kissing, nonstop and all of a sudden Pin stops and pull away softly—out of breath. Anil asks what’s wrong (in the softest tone of voice, mind you) and Pin says she couldn’t breathe.

Like, girl. Anil. Chill~ 🥴

Anil giggles as you can see in the picture above and does, and says the craziest thing. First she kiss Pin on the forehead calling her adorable (how dare she!) and THEN SHE SAYS: I promise I’ll be very gentle…

Girrlll. I told you to chill!!

She’s insane. That was just the beginning and I was dying already!

Then they go on with the kisses (the damn kisses. That we here loud and clear)

Anil doesn’t waste any time and as she devours Pin she starts undressing her. The way she does it tho (I’m hyperventilating) she slides that tiny little strip off her shoulder in such a gracious way I felt like she was undressing me. Got shy and all. HELP.

And Pin just lets her, she lets her do whatever the princess wants and oh, she’s starving. She’s been starving for years!

Anyway, Anil continues now kissing down Pin’s neck and can i take a moment to appreciate how beautiful Freen’s hair just flows on her back like waterfall??? ART. God, she’s gorgeous!

Then we have Anil going lower and lower and I’m losing it a bit more and more. Wondering how far the Princess’ knowledge will take us…

She lays Pin down, very softly very gently just as she said she will!

And well, what can I say. I’m impressed on how vast Anil’s knowledge is! The boarding school has clearly teach her some important things! Such a great investment for the crown and the government ig (I’m not sure how Thai royalty worked back then)

The way Anil look at Pin throughout the entire scene?? The way Pin holds onto her neck as she smiles all bliss-out?? Losing my goddamn mind.

Then we got the morning after 🙌🏼

And aren’t they cute?

They’re extremely cute I CANT 😭😭😭

The way Anil asks for a kiss and Pin immediately give it to her aghjskfkf

Then we have this sequence of Pin’s memories if I’m not mistaken and it’s the cutest thing ever. They’re too cute for my well being. Honestly 😭

Anil’s dimples (Becky’s) are the most adorable thing ever. Pin is so right for wanting to kiss them and pinch them and eat-

Anil, instead, she doesn’t only want to kiss Pin on the cheek. Nope. She wants to devour her. Are we even surprised? She just did that the previous night…

They’re so soft. I love the way they look at each other. The way they smile at each other. Bumping the other’s nose? Pecking the other and kissing her hand? Got me giggling and shit 😔

And finally resting her head on her chest once again. Just kill me please.

I can’t bare this suffering that is being single and lonely anymore 😭😭😭

Anil holding the back of Pin’s head the entire time. PLEASEEEE

Then we go on with the day and they miss each other as the clingy pair that they are. Anil misses Pin so much she goes and help her with her chores. If that’s not true love I don’t know what it is 😅

They have a cute little moment under the freshly washed sheets and omg they’re so in love!

Once they’re done with the chores (I think) they go on a cute little date, holding hands and sharing food. I’m not sure if this montage is real or their imagination but it’s cute.

Everything in this episode it’s just fucking cute, at least till the two first parts.

.

.

.

.

I know I’m yapping too much but can’t help it. it’s not favorite moments anymore but a commentary. lol. Here’s Part 2

[scenetocause]

hiii i was just wondering if it was you that wrote the max/ lando/ luisa fic where they changed genders? and max like stays a girl? i’ve been back reading nortrell and absolutely loved reading this one the first time. i can’t find the fic anymore and if it was you that wrote it, did you delete it?

it was me! it is here. also your other ask led to me looking at it and being like on what planet did i rate this mature it's got like, several dp scenes haha what.

for something that was pure whimsy cus someone on a discord server was like lol there should be mandinha sex swap fic it's one of my favourites. in retrospect it probably should have been clearer to me that i am not at all cis earlier on lol.

here's a little drabble to make up for making my own fic completely fucking unsearchable with my bizarro rating assessments. ("nsfw i guess" there)

It's not exactly news that Lando likes tits. Especially Max's. So she could've thought through wearing a bikini a bit more thoroughly but Lando's been away for weeks and Luisa's been on Strictly or whatever and there frankly hasn't been nearly enough attention on her from either of them.

And it's the first sunny day in London for ages. She'd definitely have her top off if she was a boy right now, so she can lie on the sofa in a sunbeam soaking up the warmth if she wants.

Until Lando's blocking the light, anyway, eyes crinkled with glee. "Maxy, oh my god."

"What? Get out of the sunbeam, mate, you're in the way."

Lando ignores her but does at least crouch down so he can trail his hand up Max's waist, cup his stupidly massive palm over her tit. "You're so hot."

"I'm fucking freezing actually, it was nice in the sun but some bloke's fucked that up."

Lando just rolls his eyes, picks Max up off the sofa with an ease she's still not sure if she's jealous of or can't help enjoying. It takes her breath away a little bit, sometimes, that the guy so tiny he had to be velcro-ed into a fucking kart could throw her around, now.

Even if the way her body changed was different (sudden, all at once, no years of carving muscle in the gym) it's crazy to think how much they've grown, still with each other. Makes her a bit soppy about it, maybe, so she has to hide her face in Lando's hoodie while he's putting her down on the bed and then tucking her in.

"Warm now?" He's a fucking weapon, this guy. Lying on top of the duvet, on Max, so she's basically pinned down.

"Be warmer if you got in, Bob." She's missed him. Got to into her own head while he was off driving laps of Bahrain and making heart-eyes at a more successful ex-Renault junior.

Lando relents easily because she's going to let him fuck her. Might even be up for anal, if he wants that. Sometimes they like it, as a throwback to how they used to fuck and Lando's dick feels pretty good anywhere.

Under the duvet his hands get everywhere, undoing the ties on Max's (well, Luisa's) bikini and slipping it off her, down into the foot of the bed somewhere.

"God. Your tits are so great." Lando's doing something with his mouth, between them, that's really not very far off motorboating and Max would object but it's the weird attention she's been craving. All Lando shit, unfocussed and a bit mental.

"D'you think you could do F1 Academy?" Obviously that's the kind of mad thing Lando asks when they're about to fuck.

"Bob, no. I don't know? Maybe." Callum could probably ask. She might, just to race again. Maybe. Maybe she could actually take a fight to Doriane. Or, mortifyingly, find herself massively off the pace. It's a big gamble.

"Could be the Silverstone wildcard. Be all sexy, we can both win." Alright, Mr confidence.

"Don't think they're racing there." Max kisses him, tries to get Lando's brain back on the job at hand by stroking his dick through his joggers. "C'mon, make me come and then I'll show you what Connor's done to his hair."

[i-heart-emos]

jealous boy/luke castellan

A/N: this is gonna be not toxic jealousy more like play because I don’t wanna do super dark cause I’m still trying to convinve myself luke is good

Pairing:Jealous!Luke x Aphrodite reader

Summary: being a known favorite in the aphrodite comes with its perks and downside’s especially when Luke gets a little jealous

Warnings: nothing just a tiny bit of cussing

————————————————————————Even though Aphrodite’s children known only for there looks thats didn’t keep you from learning to fight. Your weapon of choice bow and arrow. And with practice you became the best archer at the camp. So naturally the head oh Aphrodite cabin who was highly looked up to and the best archer. Would get with the head of Hermes cabin who was also a great role model and the best swordsman. To most of the camp they couldn’t think of a better match. Especially considering Hermes and Aphrodite tend to get along due to there manipulative powers. But that didn’t stop others from trying to get with you

One day you and Luke for once had clear schedules. “Love look nothing he exclaims looking at the activity board”. For once none of you guys had any mandatory Activities to teach or supervise. You look at him smiling “wanna spar” “oh you know I do” you both race towards the sparring area. Sure your specialty is archery but they doesn’t mean you don’t know your way around a sword. Even if Luke was the best swordsman at camp you’d still put up a fight. Just as Luke and you both had your swords out and where ready to fight some younger boy from the Hermes cabin came up to you. “Um hi I’m Travis Stoll I was wondering if you’d spar with me”.

Luke looked annoyed to say the least. He was never particularly fond of Travis always trying to one up him to no avail. “Oh I’m sorry Travis but I’m about to spar with Luke maybe some other time”. You say smiling. Ok well maybe we can hang out sometime like tonight or tomorrow”. But before he can finish his sentence Luke steps in. “You know she has a boyfriend right” he says looking angry now. Travis suddenly taking on a feeling of confidence says”well she can decide for herself who she truly want” “look Travis your nice you really are but I love Luke and I always will”. “See asshole she likes me so back off” he says slightly pushing Travis. “Luke”? You say hitting his arm walking away from a now stunned Travis on the floor

“What was that for” you exclaim “He needs to learn his place” Luke says dragging you to his cabin. “The minute you sit to his bed he immediately starts kissing you. Not expecting it you let a slight gasp causing him to slip his tongue in your mouth. As you continued kissing he slowly trailed down to your neck. He spent a long time making sure to suck and nip at your neck. “Luke stop your gonna leave a mark” that’s the point princess” He say continuing. After what felt like an hour he stopped. “We should’ve just done this the whole time” he stated peppering kisses over your face leaving you giggling. “Ok but no I have or use the bathroom” you saying laughing. As soon as your walk in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror you scream “LUKE CASTELLAN” you holler he yells back “sorry gotta go” and runs out the cabin. You let out a frustrated groan as you walk out the cabin

“Damn y/n Luke practically ate you” “Oh shut it Silena”. As you continuing walking threw camp trying to find your boyfriend you get multiple hollers and whistles and remarks. When your about to enter the Hermes cabin you bump into Chris. “Oh hey n/n Oh shit that what Luke was doing when I was trying to find him” “where is he Chris” “bunk at the end of the hall” “thank you” “Hey one more thing y/n” “what you say trining around “don’t be so loud next time” “I WASNT EVEN DOING ANYTHING” you scream and Christ slips out of the room. When you finally find Luke you blow up on him. But when he’s able to calm you down your sitting in his lap while he plays with you. “While you know one good thing from this”. “What” “that idiot Travis will never mess with you again” you raise a brown wait what where you doing this time I was gone”. Just as you say that Travis with a bleeding nose walks in stumbling. Everyone rushes to him asking what happened. “I um ran into a tree” Luke looks at you with a proud smirk. “LUKE” you scream.

A/N: I think this is one of my favorite yet I really thought I did good writing this and I love jealous Luke also I’m writing for Clarissa next so if you have any suggestions please ask.

[runningwithfangs]

Vampire Chronicles Book Review/Rant #1

Interview with the Vampire

Overall:

I mean, what can I say, it’s the OG. It’s what started it all, it’s pretty dang good. It’s just a little odd how the whole book is in speech quotes because it’s almost all Louis speaking, but I got used to it after a while. So dramatic, so melancholy. 

I didn’t realize that Louis and Lestat actually fight each other, the violence is brief and not very graphic, but it’s there. 

Claudia’s arc of becoming a grown-up is so good, the way Louis describes it, she’s playing with dolls one day, and reading advanced literature the next, the way something in her expression changes over the decades, where one day he has to come to terms that she is not a child, and has not been for some time. Also, her murdering Lestat was a bit too “super easy, barely an inconvenience” even though she very thoroughly thought it out, but still. 

The Théâtre des Vampires vampires are kinda gross. The way Armand paralyzes/hypnotizes Claudia so he can talk to Louis is so creepy. 

OMG Lestat getting dragged in for a “trial” and Louis begging him to defend their murder attempt by basically admitting he was a piece of shit to them is WILD. 

Louis’s grief is so real, if you take him at his word (which, in this book, I suppose we should) he was stuck with a demanding, rude maker, the small attempt they made at a “human” life was so short-lived and they all ended up worse for it, making vampire friends is hard because vampires are largely gross and violent, his daughter was murdered, and the one guy who crushed on him didn’t stop the murder of his daughter and the love died out over the decades. So, not a lot of fun to be found (in human or vampire activities). Louis seems so lost and I did feel bad for him.

It makes sense he’d wish to warn the world, but I’m kinda with Daniel though, Louis, baby, you did it wrong, I’d be out there dancing in Paris, swimming in the Caribbean, falling in love with vampires and humans, eating child predators, like, having a time! Clearly I too learned nothing.

Favorites:

Louis giving his neighbor Girl Boss advice once her dumb brother got himself killed in a duel so she wouldn’t lose her money and societal standing.

Claudia! Everything from her yelling at her parents to making Madeline build her a mini room in the hotel room complete with tiny rocking chairs and tiny gowns. 

Louis burning down the Théâtre and slicing anyone that tried to come at him. It’s not just cool and exciting, but it’s written well! I get confused by written action scenes easily, and this didn’t feel confusing. 

Least Favorites:

The plantation. I mean, Lestat feeding on the enslaved people there, it’s . . .uncomfortable, to say the least.

Louis and Armand being together but Louis clearly being very done with Armand but just stringing him along while Armand shittily tires to cheer him up/make him feel anything again is sad and anticlimactic for a book filled with so much adventure/chaos/action/death. 

Smutt:

Claudia asking Louis about what sex used to be like and Louis freaking out about it was so funny to me.

Armand and Louis’ little date at the top of the tower! Armand trying to tell Louis about Venice and his master who loved him, Louis barreling past Venice to be all wait you loved someone else :(  OMG Louis, pay attention! 

Nonsense Meter:

Pretty low, I think the most nonsense part was Santiago imitating everything Louis did like some kind of mime.

Misc:

The whole thing with the revenants and the peasants using the horses to find what graves held vampires was really interesting. I’m nearing the end of the VC series and still wondering if these revenants will ever show up again.

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 14

THE FINAL CHAPTER

previous

summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.

warnings: smut, cocaine usage, infidelity, angst, brief mention of prostitution...if you’ve made it this far you’re probably not going to be surprised by anything in this chapter

word count: 5.6k

tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23@smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess @bobafett-tea​ @esposadomd​ 

a/n: holy shit, where do i even start??? it’s hard to believe that a one-shot turned fic series i only wrote as a distraction because i was mad that my movie date got cancelled got here today. thank you all for the support since september 2021, because the amount of people who have enjoyed this series and keysmashed over it and dmed me to say that they stayed up all night reading it is crazy, you guys blew me tf away. i’m kissing you all five times and doing the Hand Squeeze™ with everyone who has supported me over the past five hundred something days TGR has existed. i would gladly make plans to run away to paris with you. :)

//////

“Are you running away? Because it really looks like you’re running away.”

Your suitcase shut with a sharp SNAP. “It’s only temporary. And you keep your mouth shut about this, you hear me?”

Esme held up her hands like you were pointing a gun at her. “Okay, okay, I just really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s only temporary,” you muttered to yourself, preoccupied again as you shoved another cigarette into your mouth, your fifth of the evening. You were refusing to voice your thoughts aloud: you were already thinking about finding a new place to be from. “London’s not that far away from here, is it?”

“You have no family in London, and no friends,” Esme replied. “Y/N, just stop packing the goddamn suitcase.”

You snorted as you lit your cigarette. “It’s funny how no one around here gets that there’s a whole world outside of Small Heath.”

“Yeah, and there’s a whole world of rock bottoms outside of Small Heath,” Esme shot back, flat and unconvinced. “You gravitate towards shitholes, y’know. You’re only just gonna make life worse for yourself all over again.”

“I need to get out of here,” you repeated stubbornly, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. “For just a week.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, this is going to go terribly,” Esme muttered under her breath, absently pouring a miniscule amount of the powdery white substance she had in a tiny vial onto her knuckle. “How are you not thinkin’ of the kids? Fuckin’ four of them and John still doesn’t know how to take care of them.”

You barely heard her; you were staring at the vial of cocaine.

You almost hesitated, but pointed at the table. “Bring it over here.”

Esme gave you a weird look, and there was a tense beat that made you think she wasn’t going to do it, but she pressed her knuckle to her nostril and sniffed with barely a flinch, then poured out a jagged line for you on the table behind her.

“Y/N, I…”

“It’s fine.”

You were already searching your back pockets for a bill, or some kind of thin object that could be rolled into a cylinder.

It didn’t feel good to do it, but one last time couldn’t hurt, right? You were a changed woman now, and you could control yourself - no matter how badly you wanted just another line, like you already knew you would.

Your freshly lit cigarette still burning between your two fingers, you rolled up the bill into a tight cylinder with the precision of someone who had done it hundreds of times before, leaned over the desk, and sniffed up a thin line of cocaine.

Like always, it hit you all at once, like a bolt of lightning. Oh, God.

And then everything became clear.

If there was one think you knew, it was that you were getting out of Small Heath tonight.

“Barely hit,” you muttered, looking up at Esme with dilated eyes. “Can I see the vial, please?”

//////

John was deep in the forest again, his bare feet caked in mud and moss and leaves, and he was going out of his mind with want.

“I miss you,” Martha purred like some long-lost, ethereal creature, and her cold, dainty hand glided around his shoulder. She had been circling him for the past ten minutes and yet her footsteps made no noise - she was pure magic, that woman was, and she smelled something sweet, like pound cake. Dizzy in her presence, John blinked hard as something in the depths of his mind purred happily, something primal and hidden blossoming to life, making him feel everything.

She was in her dress that she had worn to her wedding, the brilliant purple-pink wildflowers were braided into her hair like not a day had gone by, and John forgot that those flowers were actually dried and pressed into some obsolete book in the betting shop in the Parlour.

“Do you miss me?” she whispered, her cold hand on his other shoulder now, and John felt the skin there erupt into gooseflesh.

Martha sidestepped quickly, mystically as ever, and suddenly she was in front of him again. She had asked him a question, and he hadn’t answered.

Her hazel eyes glowed so brilliantly and ethereally that he was sure she made his blue Shelby eyes look hazel too, and he had to pause for a moment to take in her glittering beauty, her fair and freckled skin, her thin lips that had somehow been an insecurity of hers when she’d been alive, like they somehow hadn’t fit perfectly on her face and John hadn’t wanted to kiss them whenever he stared at them for too long.

John knew that he had opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t quite sure what had happened: either the words had come out as though he was underwater, a distorted, gibberish mess, or he had simply opened his mouth and not said anything at all.

He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding harder in his chest, and he tried to say, I do, I do, I do, but for some reason, the words couldn’t force their way past his lips.

“Clearly not, since you’re with that rat bitch,” Martha snarled, and it suddenly dawned on him that this wasn’t reality at all, not a lovely dream but a nightmare, and he started breathing hard until he was nearly hyperventilating, something like a panic attack settling in.

“No,” John tried to say, but his throat had closed off and he felt like he was screaming underwater. No. No. No.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt something like this because he suffered from the soldier’s disease, but just because it was the hundredth time he’d experienced it didn’t mean it got any less terrifying. There was a whirlwind in his brain, a headrush so powerful like everything was incoherent, unreal, and he couldn’t– fucking– breathe—

“Kitchen towels!” Polly shouted from somewhere afar, scaring him awake. “For fuck’s sake, John, where are the bloody kitchen towels?”

John launched himself out of his chair and looked around: Polly wasn’t in his office, where he’d been sleeping for the past several weeks, but she was still shouting loud enough to be heard in the betting shop, so he straightened his cap and smoothed his rumpled suit like he hadn’t been asleep at all and hurried out of the door.

It’s too bloody early for this, he thought angrily.

When John got to the kitchen with the roll of kitchen towels from the betting shop, the first thing he noticed wasn’t Polly hurrying around with a broom, clearly agitated, or a cup of tea overturned everywhere on the kitchen’s pristine tile, but Esme standing in the open doorway of the Parlour, breathing hard, looking pale and panicked. He checked his watch. 6 AM. It was the middle of February; the sun hadn’t even risen yet. What the hell was going on?

He took another look at Polly, the cup of tea shattered on the floor, and Esme, his head swiveling back and forth between them like he was watching a ping-pong match. “Fucking hell, you lot, what’s the matter?”

His voice was groggy and dehydrated, but he blinked hard and tried to ignore it.

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Y/N is fuckin’ missing, that’s the matter,” Polly snapped, venom seeping through her voice as she snatched the kitchen roll from his hands to clean up the mess of liquid and ceramic shards on the floor, “Esme here storms in at six o’clock in the bloody morning, tellin’ me all fuckin’ panicked that she woke up at the Lee house down the street and Y/N wasn’t there when she was spendin’ the night, and she was goin’ on about how she wanted to leave Small Heath before she fell asleep…”

A fresh round of cold, unsettling panic doused John, and seeing the darkening look on his face, Esme grimaced sympathetically at him. “A part of me thought she was joking, I tried to talk her out of it. I’m sorry, John.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Polly snapped with the air that she was only becoming more pissed with every word Esme spoke, and straightening, she slammed the roll of towels on the counter and chucked the shards of ceramic into the garbage. “Gather Arthur and Tommy, we need to have the Blinders looking for her. The earlier we can find her, the better.”

He nodded.

“Arthur!” he bellowed down the hallway, without a care in the world for his kids or anyone else. “Get the fuck up!”

//////

Understandably, there were no trains running at three in the morning, the time you’d left a sleeping Esme at the Lee house on Watery Lane, so you simply shifted your bag higher on your shoulder and decided to find another place in Small Heath to camp out until the sunrise.

Still on your cocaine high, you refused to look at your reflection in the windows of the shopfronts you passed. You already felt disheveled and bloodshot, you didn’t need to see it.

Eventually, you settled on an alleyway some three blocks away from the station. You pressed your back against the wall and slid down it until you were sitting on the damp stretch of dirt, dead grass, and litter.

You moved your bag from your shoulder to your lap and inhaled sharply: if you were aware of your body for too long, the cocaine pain in your ribs made you feel like your entire body was on fire. You had a small bottle of vodka in your suitcase to ration, and you’d feel even better after a few burning gulps from the bottle, but you resolved not to start drinking at least until you got on the train.

The cocaine high would have to be enough for now, you decided.

You sighed as your head suddenly spun, and the hazy feeling of unreality settled deep into your chest, making your heart pound harder and harder until sweat was dampening the back of your neck. Your brain was throbbing hard, but euphoria pulsed through your entire body, and for that feeling alone, it was worth it.

God, cocaine was terrible, but simultaneously beautiful. You’d almost missed it.

Sure, you definitely hadn’t missed always feeling like you were on the verge of fainting, nor the aching and the itchiness and the cold liquid that seemed to bubble in your veins after you came down from your high, indicating that you were sober again, but whatever, it was three in the morning in a shitty corner of England, you were alone and staring up at the glinting stars in the sky, inhaling the ever-present scent of manure and cigarette smoke, and your cocaine-fucked brain promptly decided that nothing else mattered but this moment.

The year is 1920, you thought dumbly, in that same blearily existential way only someone who was extremely high could. Will people still appreciate the Earth’s beauty a hundred years from now?

You probably wouldn’t be around to see it, but you hoped they did, and you squinted up at the sky to scope out any possible constellations. You’d never had a chance to notice it before, but this was a Nevada kind of view, which made you think of a moment five years earlier where you were lying in the great expanse of desert beneath the stars, watching Sam’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept, swiping at the mosquitos whenever they got too close.

You weren’t all that aware of it, but your entire face stretched into a tired smile, making your cheeks ache. Goddamn, I love cocaine.

The next moments passed in a blink: suddenly the sun was rising, and you were at the station again, and you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten a ticket in your hands but you were already carrying your things onto the train, and vaguely acting sober, you stumbled into the first empty carriage you saw, all while your body didn’t feel like your own and you were simply a spectator to your own activities.

Which, honestly, you preferred. You had no fucking time to regret any of this.

//////

“Y/N?” John shouted, shining a flashlight down the long, empty hallway of the old Lee house. He’d stomped in there the minute the car had rolled into the field, so fast and panicked that he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights, meaning the house was shrouded in darkness. “Y/N!”

“Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see her at the train station?” he heard Esme snap at some Blinder waiting outside.

“Why would I lie for the fuckin’ Garrison rat?” John heard him reply before he stepped out of range, and scowling, he burst into the bedroom Esme had said you’d slept in days ago.

It was stripped bare, not even your scent had been left behind, like you’d never been inside the room in the first place, which only made the dread crawling down his back worse.

You’re a fucking knobhead, John scolded himself, pivoting on his heel to exit the room. A fucking knobhead, you know that? What kind of husband has their wife walk out on them?

Regretting his excessive drinking and smoking, sleeping in his office, booking his favourite whore at Zhang’s, and avoiding his wife like the plague, John ran back onto the field with his knuckles aching to kill something.

He took his cap off to smooth his hair back. “She’s not there.”

“‘Course she’s not,” Esme said resignedly.

“Where the fuck would she had gone?” John shouted at her, resisting the urge to grab her and violently shake her, purely to keep the peace between the families. “Esme, did she tell you any place that she was wanting to go?”

Esme opened her mouth and closed it.

“London,” she whispered back, her eyes wide. “She told me she wanted to go to London.”

“London!” he yelled in disbelief, whipping around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“The trains start early in the morning,” she bit out, twisting her hands together. The Blinder beside her was staring at her, wide-eyed, as though trying to find a way to insert himself into the conversation, but both she and John ignored him. “John, if we can’t find her, that means she already went.”

Unadulterated rage swept through him, bitter and blinding, but John choked it down. “Fuck.”

Ducking out of the way so they wouldn’t see his glossy eyes, he started to stomp away. “Get back in the fucking car.”

//////

London was sprawling and gleaming when the train noisily rolled into the station, and in your threadbare, dirt-stained skirt and cardigan, you felt like you weren’t expensive-looking enough to fit in.

No matter, you told yourself, but the voice in your head was much too pleasant and lacking the predisposed anxiety and misery to truly sound like yourself. You can simply buy new clothes.

Plus, you already knew you weren’t planning on staying in London for long anyway.

You hummed a quiet but hopeful folk song you’d first heard at the Garrison to yourself as you retrieved your things from the compartment, your heart already pounding hard with excitement at the thought of leaving the train. As you hummed out what little lyrics you could remember, a pang of sadness hit your gut for the first time since you’d snorted cocaine: you’d miss Grace, but you were happy her beautiful voice had become engraved in your memory.

Her voice was yours to keep forever.

Smiling, you carried your bags through the narrow hallway and descended the train.

And sweet Jesus, the air of London smelled like the most refreshing summer breeze simply because of the absence of manure and furnace smoke. The station was still overcrowded with people, which normally would have alarmed you had you been sober, but this time you didn’t even care, it almost felt like you had snorted another few lines of cocaine as you waded through the onslaught of people, a dumb grin plastered on your face.

Girl, you are high as balls.

You caught sight of a husband waiting at the gate with a bouquet of flowers for his approaching wife, and quickly glanced away. You didn’t need anything like that to bother you right now.

“Airport?” you asked aimlessly to the people around you. “Does anyone know how to get to the airport from here?”

After a minute or two of wandering around and shouting among the onslaught of people, a man not much older than Tommy Shelby finally turned around.

“Airport?” he asked, squinting down at you. “You’ll need to go to Croydon.”

“Where is that?” you asked sweetly, layering on the Americana glitter in your charming Garrison rat voice, batting your eyelids at him. “It’s my first time in London, you see.”

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I can take you there, miss, for a fee. I’ll carry your things for you.”

“How much quid?” you asked absent-mindedly, peering down into your bag to find your change. “I can give you, uh, maybe twenty-”

“I’m not talking about money,” he cut in, and your head snapped up like a deer in headlights. How dare he, knowing that you had a very expensive wedding ring glistening on your fing–

You stopped yourself.

You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

It was rolling around somewhere in the depths of your bag.

Time seemed to slow down and your heart pounded even faster, cocaine influence or not, but what shocked you the most was the odd sense of relief, making the ugly scar stretching across the length of your abdomen tingle.

Men still desired you.

With your head slightly spinning and the residue feeling of your body not being your own anymore, it was the most chilling reminder that you weren’t sober: you suspected that in any other state of mind, you would feel differently about this, but right now you didn’t care.

Wasn’t the whole point of coming to London that you didn’t want to feel chained by the Shelbys anymore?

“Take me there,” you heard yourself say after what felt like a century, and the man’s grin widened. “Of course, ma’am.”

Please protect me, God, a voice whispered in the depths of your mind, and accepting his outstretched hand, you let him guide you out of your train station.

//////

Tommy Shelby pushed the heavy mahogany doors of the Garrison open with a flourish, stepped into the pub, and promptly bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Everybody out!”

It had been bad enough losing his own love to a mind-boggingly similar situation two months ago, but Christ, how likely was it for John boy to go through the same goddamned thing? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed. What had gotten into the women of today? Was this something he seriously had to be worried about?

The few number of patrons at 11 AM on a Wednesday morning quickly made themselves scarce with a frightened look on their faces, and for the first time that morning, Tommy had a chance to sigh before he approached the confused and frightened barmaids behind the bar.

After Grace, he felt a deep inner hatred more intensely than he had before her, and this morning was no exception.

“Have you seen Y/N Lee around these parts in the past few weeks, ladies? Y/N Shelby? The Garrison rat?”

The two barmaids looked at each other, puzzled, and one opened her mouth but promptly closed it.

“You,” Tommy said, pouncing on her. “Did you see the Garrison rat at all?”

“I…uh….” she stuttered, and Tommy cocked his head in anticipation for her words. Where was the easy grace that all of the barmaids seemed to have whenever a Blinder visited? “I…”

The barmaid gulped and stared at the floor. “She came in here once, lookin’ like a mess, and said she was getting out of here that night.”

“What kind of mess was she?” he pressed, leaning forward. “Drunk? Sniffing snow?”

“She - she was covered in blood,” the barmaid choked out, and he recognized the telltale signs of an anxiety attack as she started shaking. “Covered in blood. And vomit. And dirt. And twigs. And she had this…crazed look in her eyes. None of the drunks have it, so I knew she wasn’t drunk. She meant what she was saying with a burning passion. She wanted somebody dead.”

Tommy thought back to the night that pathetic boy was killed, the way he’d wailed and screamed and cried as John pummelled him. It had been a real mess when you’d ran off like that, and there was no signs that you’d even been bothered until before then.

He eyed the other barmaid, who was pale as a ghost.

“Go make a drink for your friend,” he told her. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Edith,” the sniffling barmaid replied, staring at the floor.

“Edith,” Tommy repeated. “Well, Edith, thank you for your time, but I’m afraid that the Garrison rat has fulfilled her promise as of this morning.”

With a haunting sort of finality, he replaced his cap and turned on his heel to exit the Garrison.

//////

“Fuck!”

Before John could stop it, a long, frustrated, angry scream ripped out of his throat, and it was so loud within the confined space of his office that it made his own ears ring. He was the only one here now, and it had been that way for an hour: the rest of the family had gone out looking for his wife.

His vision suddenly blurry with tears, he punched his desk over and over again, screaming at the top of his lungs, his hands stinging, his heart pounding, everything spiralling out of control at once. All of his emotions had been pushed as far as they could possibly go ever since he woke up, and at 4 PM in the afternoon, this was the only opportunity he’d had to let them out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

John felt blood trickling down his knuckles and he finally stopped, cursing, hating himself. Why did he have to be like this? He would feel nothing but indifference for weeks on end until it all came rushing out of him like an avalanche.

Well, some part of him knew this explosion was warranted. It was forever frustrating being back to square one: without a wife, without a stepmother to take care of his kids, without love and painfully aware that he was without Martha. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but it was the first time the feeling seared through his chest like a volcano erupting: he’d wished he’d never had kids.

“Why am I so stupid?” John shouted at himself in the thick silence. “Fucking hell, why am I so fucking stupid?”

Get it out, some type of comforting voice told him in the back of his head. Get it all fucking out.

His knuckles were pouring blood now, screaming for bandages, but John leapt from his chair and shoved everything off his desk in a giant sweep.

He picked up an empty vase behind him and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, where it exploded in a shower of glass.

He ripped open all the cabinets of his desk and yanked out all of the files, lobbing them at the wall, throwing them on the ground, tearing them in half, and when that wasn’t enough, he lifted his office chair and pounded it into the ground as violently as he could.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

He couldn’t even remember when he’d started screaming anymore, but his throat was raw as he lobbed the splintered, broken pieces of the chair at the wall.

His hands were covered in blood, and he had a sobering feeling that maybe he should stop now, but no matter how self-destructive he was being, the rage was addicting, and he was throwing various detritus from the wreckage as hard as he could at the wall. The rush of pain flooding to his knuckles was almost gratifying— thank God, he could still feel things. Even if he was feeling too much, he was feeling, and that was good.

Tears were streaming down his face, and when he tried to inhale through his nose, his nostrils were blocked with snot, but he couldn’t stop. His entire face was red from overexertion and his hands were bleeding and he couldn’t stop shaking and he couldntfuckingbreathe, like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum, and—

If his throat was raw when he’d had the energy to destroy things, it was nothing like how it felt now. “Fuck!”

Maybe this is how Y/N felt when she saw me kill that monarchist fucker, John thought dumbly, and he sank to his knees in his demolished mess of an office, a tide of regret crashing through him unlike anything before.

This feeling hit him like it was trying to kill him.

//////

The car was parked in the parking lot of the airport, and it hadn’t moved for the past ten minutes.

It was cramped, uncomfortable, and questionably damp, but the man who’d driven you there-- Billy, you’d since learned his name was--  wouldn’t buy the plane ticket for you until you gave him your payment, and you had nothing left to lose. With Paris being a hefty cheque away, a daring trip that you could just barely afford, you had weighed your options and promptly decided fuck it, just get it over with.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his length before pulling back to suck the tip, darting your tongue around it, producing the filthiest slurping sounds he’d ever heard as you bobbed around him. He wasn’t longer than John, but a little thicker, and it was an interesting change to feel how his cock felt in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Billy murmured, weaving a hand through your hair as you swiped his cock over your wet lips, teasing it over your warm mouth, smearing your red lipstick further down your chin. “Fuck, just like that - gonna - fuck-”

He came fast with barely a warning, warm droplets of come spilling onto your tongue. Knowing you were almost done, you wrapped a hand around his length to jerk him off, gulping him down as best you could while he kept his hand tight in your hair, ensuring that you swallowed every last bit.

Saltier, you noted. Well, that’s a bit disgusting.

//////

He had her on her back so he wouldn’t have to look at her, but it was still so hard to pretend that she was someone else: the dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders that looked nothing like her hair, the breathy little moans that fell from her lips that sounded nothing like hers, even the way her pussy squeezed his cock, they were all dead giveaways that she wasn’t who John desperately wanted her to be. And no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn’t be.

“Oh, God,” Esme moaned, grabbing the headboard to keep herself from falling over as John fucked into her just a little bit harder, and his hand was wrapped around her neck before he even registered it being there.

“Shut up.”

She wasn’t listening.

“Fuck, John, I’m gonna-” –With one hand on the headboard, she was furiously rubbing her clit now– “I think I’m gonna - oh fuck -”

She collapsed from underneath him as her orgasm rushed through her body, but in a split-second he’d yanked her upright by her hair, back to her original position, except her arms were pinned behind her back.

This was about control.

Fucking her even harder now, his voice was furious in her ear as he whispered:

“Next time you come, you’re gonna ask for my permission, yeah?”

//////

Paris was golden.

Golden and full of pickpockets, that was for sure. The one drawback of such a fashionable, progressive city, you had to keep a tight hold on your purse as you made your way to the closest bar, or the bar à cocktails, as you frequently heard the locals call it.

Three months into living in Paris, you fit right in with the people born and raised here: they tended to go all out in comparison to Birmingham, their wardrobes were fashionable, flashy, and fancy to the point where a floor-length dress, your most expensive pearl necklace, and a glittery headband had become your drinking attire. You couldn’t imagine the stares had you worn the Garrison rat’s usual outfit of trousers and a blouse anywhere in Paris. 

So, when it came down to it, you didn’t mind being bold, not at all. It was the années folles, after all, and life was good.

The same way British slang had slowly seeped into your vocabulary when you were an American trapped in Birmingham, your accent was starting to change the longer you stayed in Paris. Words like “quid” and “fucking hell” were slowly starting to disappear in your internal monologue, instead being replaced with “franc” and “merde”. Eventually, your American accent wrapped around the French words you spoke with a kind of ease, your thoughts came to you in French more than they did in English, and it dawned on you one day that you couldn’t have imitated the sweetness of the Garrison rat’s voice if you tried.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less. Maybe it was for the better.

You gently pushed open the glass door to the bar and, smoothing your dress, walked inside.

Lilting jazz, warm golden light, quiet conversation, respectful barmaids, a wide array of bottles at the bar, and best of all, sparsely populated. You loved coming to this place— you were already a couple of shots in, of course, but you enjoyed the French stuff.

You carefully sat down on your usual barstool to the left of the barmaid and calmly told her, “Comme d’habitude.”

She nodded without looking at you, emotionless. “Pas de problème.”

You settled back onto the stool, content to think about nothing for a moment as your drink was being made, but you sensed him approaching you before you saw him. Even though you had to tell yourself that you weren’t the Garrison rat anymore, that mysterious charm hadn’t been lost on the men of Paris, clearly.

The new man— dark hair, gray eyes, nothing remarkable — sat on the stool to your direct left, with the kind of forced confidence that immediately told you he had to practice it before coming over to sit with you, and you refused to look at him.

The barmaid slid a shot over to you, and the mysterious new man held up his hand, as though to intercept you from paying. “Je vais le payer.”

Looking anywhere but his face, you didn’t stop him as he handed over a fistful of coins to the barmaid.

Why should you? It was free drinks. That was welcomed in Las Vegas, New York City, Small Heath, and Paris.

As the barmaid walked away to attend to a new customer, his attention was on you now.

“Vous venez souvent dans ce bar.”

It was a statement, not a question. You looked at him, your face completely blank, and said nothing.

He smirked at you. “Vous aimez cette musique, oui? Le jazz est toujours beau. Bon pour danser.”

When you still said nothing, growing slightly frustrated now, he asked, “Quelle est votre histoire?”

You scoffed, and finally decided to speak.

“C’est une longue histoire. Une trop longue histoire. La seule chose que je sais, c’est que je ne tomberai plus jamais en amour, donc si vous pensez m’inviter à danser, n’essaie pas.”

The man looked at you for a long moment, before getting up from the stool and walking away— wordless, the kind of complicated look on his face that you didn’t understand. And it pissed you off, really, not understanding why he had the audacity to look hurt.

With the drunken blurriness of your vision, as the man retreated into the distance, his silhouette seemed to be absorbed by the gleaming, golden light, and you let out a low sigh of relief as you were left alone again. Alone with your thoughts.

You turned back to the bar and found yourself lost in the murky depths of your drink that he’d paid for. Through the haze, you blearily noticed that you’d started thinking in English again. Blunt and short sentences, but still: English.

I’m never going to love again.

//////

AUGUST 1920 - SMALL HEATH, BIRMINGHAM

I’m never going to love again, thought John as he stared moodily across the length of the merry Garrison. Grace may not have been there anymore, but the roaring folk songs every night had remained in her memory, and someone had clearly written a new one for the drunks to sing.

The only person there that wasn’t singing, John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to act as though there weren’t any horribly-concealed glances in his direction every few minutes. Though, as time went on, they were becoming lesser and lesser, the Garrison rat was disappearing into a mythical woman that belonged to the folklore of Small Heath. Honestly, in the months without her, sometimes it was hard to believe that she had ever truly lived.

The song roared on.

“Oh, the Garrison rat, the Garrison rat, she left at twilight and we haven’t seen her since that…”

[unclewaynemunson]

Hello again. Got another prompt for your backlog if you're interested.

It's a year after Vecnas defeat, and Eddie is sitting on the picnic table behind Hawkins High, lamenting over Chrissy, wondering if he could've saved her, befriended her etc. Steve approaches and gives a pep talk, reminding him there was nothing he could have done. Eddie wonders if he'll see her again in some hereafter and Steve says after saving the town, absolutely.

Yeessss i love this here we goooo:

It's been a year. It's been precisely a year since Eddie was sat at this exact picnic table in front of Chrissy Cunningham. He can still picture the distressed look in her eyes, that sugar-sweet smile when he finally got her to relax a little bit.

He can't believe it's been a year. That also means that it's been a year – give of take a few days – since they saved the world from evil once and for all, or something.

It wasn't all bad, that week in March '86. He gained a whole bunch of new friends that he can't imagine living without anymore. And he found out that he could be brave, if necessary. But the thing is, he wishes that he could've started being brave only a few days earlier. He desperately wishes that he could've been brave when Chrissy started fucking floating in his living room, that he could've found a way to save her, or at the very least could've made her a tiny bit less terrified and lonely in her final moments. And most of all, he wishes that he could've noticed just how much she needed help when she came to buy from him.

No, that's not true, he actually did notice that. It had been quite difficult to miss, honestly. But instead of making an effort to find out what was going on with her, instead of genuinely trying to make her better, he sold her fucking keta.

He hears the rustling of leaves behind him and jolts up, still easily startled sometimes, a leftover effect of everything that happened last year. But it's just Steve.

'What are you doing here?' he asks, surprised.

Steve jumps onto the picnic table and goes to sit right next to him, their knees bumping against each other and their upper legs touching.

'I couldn't find you anywhere. Got a bit worried. And then I saw the date and figured you might be here.'

Eddie still can't believe that Steve is real, sometimes. He seems to get Eddie in a way that nobody else really does; seems to be able to read his mind, at times, even.

'You wanna talk about it?' Steve asks.

'I just –' Eddie rests his head in his hands, blindly staring into the woods around them. 'I can't stop thinking about all the things I could've – should've – done differently. She was right here, basically screaming for help, and all I did... All I did was sell her drugs, man. She needed a friend, and I only took advantage of her, and she died. And I ran away. I ran away when I could've saved her.'

He feels Steve's hand on his shoulder and leans into the touch, resting his head in that safe place in the nape of Steve's neck, where it smells like pine cone and cinnamon.

'You couldn't have. You do know that, don't you? You didn't know a thing about Vecna or the Upside Down or any of the shit that was going down. Even if you stayed with her, it wouldn't have made any difference. If you ask me, running away from that was the only logical reflex. You shouldn't blame yourself for it.'

Eddie only sighs. He knows that, rationally, but unfortunately guilt isn't a rational thing. He wonders if it will ever go away.

'When Barb went missing,' Steve says, 'I couldn't even believe that it was real, at first. I thought Nancy was overreacting, I was a total dick about it. And when we found out what happened to her – God, it's been more than three years and I still blame myself. I still keep thinking: “What if we had been there with her? What if we looked out for her a little bit more? What if we hadn't been so stupid and horny and mean, what if... But at the end of the day, it wouldn't have made any difference, you know. That thing, the Demogorgon, still would've taken her. And me and Nancy with her, probably.' Steve starts moving his thumb back and forth over Eddie's shoulder, comforting him with his gentle touches. 'All we gotta do now, is learn to live with the consequences.'

Eddie hums. He knows Steve is right.

'If only I could talk to her one more time...' he sighs out after they've sat there in silence for a while.

'You will,' Steve says. Eddie lift his head, surprised by how sure of himself Steve sounds.

'I mean, hopefully not in another, like, hundred years – I'd like to keep you here for a little while longer – but you will, eventually. You'll have all the time in the world to talk to her. To say everything you wanna tell her.'

Eddie snorts. 'Even if there is some sort of afterlife in which that'd be possible – which is a pretty big assumption to make – I don't exactly think I'll be going to the same place as Chrissy Cunningham. Need I remind you of the whole list of crimes I committed over the years? Not to mention that I'm a raging homosexual.'

But Steve chuckles, unimpressed, pulling Eddie closer in his arms. 'No way that's true,' he says. 'You're not gonna tell me that the Big Gal up there gives a shit about how much weed you possess or who you fall in love with. He cares about the good you do in this world, and you, Eddie Munson, saved thousands of people last year.'

Eddie looks up at him; the soft look in Steve's brown eyes makes him almost melt right on the spot.

'I thought you said that was stupid and reckless and completely unnecessary?'

'I mean, yeah, and I still stand by that, because we both know you very nearly got yourself killed in the process, but...' He shrugs. 'It was still pretty goddamn heroic. Even if it was stupid and reckless. And I'm pretty sure that Chrissy would agree with me on this one.'

Eddie buries his head against Steve's chest. 'Thanks,' he mumbles against the fabric of his polo. 'For going to find me here, and, y'know, making me all hopeful and feel better about myself and shit.'

'Anytime,' Steve says, softly, before he places a gentle kiss onto Eddie's curls.

[sadiecoocoo]

The Little Things - JLU fanfiction

Relationships - John Stewart & Wally West, Shayera Hol & John Stewart, Shayera Hol & Wally West, Shayera Hol/John Stewart

Tags - Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Whump, Humor, Fluff, Platonic Cuddling, Wally West is The Flash, Wally West Needs a Hug, Wally West-centric, Hurt Wally West, POV Wally West, Protective John, Protective Shayera Hol, Wally West has ADHD

Summary - Wally overlooks the little things often, always focusing on the bigger picture than the finer details. so, of course, he wouldn't think much of a little tingling in his leg… until it evolves into a full blown cramp in the middle of a movie night with John and Shayera

Word Count - 1,537

Read on AO3

Notes: I got the worst cramp of my life today and needed to project, so I got this done before the feeling would go away :) please enjoy your tiny bit of Wally whump <3

One thing that Wally had learned as a hero was that the littlest of things could turn out to be some of the biggest problems later on. You let one perp get away, the next day he’s set up a bomb in City Hall. You tell the first person you see when you find out about a mind controlling snake rock thingy, they end up being the one controlled at the moment and end up almost getting rid of you and blowing up the sun. You skip a meal before an outer space mission, you’re starving with no edible food for humans in sight after the Javelin crashes.

He was always one of the heroes that looked out for the little guys. Hell, his villains could be categorized as “little” compared to the psychos Bats and Superman had to face on a daily basis.

But looking out for the little things was very different than paying attention to details. With his attention span, they might as well only exist to bite him the butt later. Sometimes he didn’t understand how he became a forensic scientist, let alone one of CCPD’s best. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to be a mechanic for a bit.

Wally overlooked things a lot, but usually he didn’t need to worry about that as much when he was with the League. They had learned to not let anyone get away unless they had a plan or really couldn’t get to them. They had learned to be more cautious when mind control was the weekly event. They had learned to always keep an enhanced protein bar or two for Wally.

Too bad Wally didn’t entirely learn how to figure out the little things going on with himself.

He was in the rec-room with John and Shayera. All the others were doing whatever either in their home cities or actually doing work in the watchtower. Which, he guessed he was really the only one that came up here for any reason other than work.

Anyway, Wally was currently enjoying a bit of chocolate (with sea salt, one of his favorites!) while beating John at an old fighter game. He had opted for Mario Kart, but was quickly outvoted by both of the others. It’s not like his superspeed would transfer to his character, just while pressing the buttons and his reaction time!

He still reveled in John's muttering and grumbles about losing, denying the accusations that he was losing his powers. He couldn’t really stop using his powers though, even at the CCPD he wrote inhumanly fast.

A pixelated flame covered the screen after Wally landed one more hit on John’s character. The blaring bright words of GAME OVER only made him feel even more smug. He flashed a shit-eating grin to GL.

The Lantern pinched his shoulder in response, rolling his eyes. Then, as per their rules in any of their hangouts, gave Wally another chocolate. Shayera laughed lightly and bumped his other shoulder.

“Alright, it’s my turn!” She declared, reaching over Wally to snatch John’s controller.

“Oh come on, at least let me beat him once.” John urged. He was getting restless (which wasn’t that weird? John being the restless one in the same room as the two most hot-headed members of the league [don’t tell Shay]).

“You’re just a sore loser.” Wally teased, leaning his head on John’s shoulder mockingly. The Lantern pushed him off with an eye roll and unintelligible grumble. He fell into Shayera’s shoulder and laughed.

“We’ll see who’s talking after I’m done with you.” Shayera said, or rather, threatened. He stuck out his chocolate covered tongue and she scrunched up her nose and rolled her eyes.

For another hour or so, the group continued to switch off on who played against who. Then, after Shayera ended up winning the most rounds (which he totally wasn’t butthurt about, shut up John), they moved on to a basic shooter game.

Wally picked his favorite character, which to anyone else would be a surprise as to who that was, a stealth character! Bats would blow a gasket if he ever found out. But, what could he say, she had a speed boost while in stealth mode. The others picked their respective characters, then they fought a couple rounds against different teams.

Another hour and a half passed, all the chocolate was gone and now replaced by three large bowls of popcorn, two of which were for Wally. 

There was some cheesy horror movie on the TV that even Flash thought was bad. But, John had recommended it, so he thought he might as well try it. He sat there and made fun of it with his friends.

It was well into the Watchtower’s simulated night cycle by the time it was done. Every room and hallway was dark, and the only sign of life were the three of them. Wally leaned back against the couch as he let out a wide yawn.

“I think it’s about time to head home.” John said, covering his mouth as he yawned too. Sometimes Wally wondered if those things were contagious, like they set off a chain reaction. He should look that up sometime.

Wally was a tiny bit sad to end their night just hanging out, but even speedsters needed to sleep once in a while. He hummed a quiet agreement and stretched out his legs before he got up.

As he stood, a small tingly feeling creeped up his legs. He frowned and blinked several times at the feeling. It was weird, but probably nothing. He had been sitting down in the same spot for a while.

“Well, it was a good one,” Shayera said, wrapping an arm around Wally’s shoulder, “too bad I won most of the chocolate though.” She teased smugly. The speedster rolled his eyes. Hawkgirl had given him a lot of the chocolates she had won anyway.

He let out a small sigh, then started towards the door.

A second later, he was holding himself up from the armrest on the couch and taking gasping breaths.

“Wally?” John asked, turning back and rushing towards the speedster. He only had the mind to let out a small groan, more so a whimper, really. “Hey, what’s going on, kid?” John leaned down to grab Wally’s shoulders as his legs gave out.

Shit fuck shit shit! His leg felt like it was locked into place. He didn’t think he could move it without sparks of pain making it feel like it was burning. He placed his hands on his leg and started to rub it.

“Cramp.” He forced out, his eyes already watering. And, wow, wasn’t that embarrassing?

Shayera sat down on the floor next to the two, rubbing circles on Flash’s back. He leaned his head forward and rested it on John’s chest. He tried to move his leg, curling it forward, but the combination of the searing pain and John’s hand on his knee stopped him.

“Stretch it out, it’ll help.” He urged. Wally didn’t think it would help when it only increased the pain and made him want to cry more than he already was. Either way, John forced it down (rude) and massaged it as best he could (less rude, but still).

Slowly, disgustingly slow for Wally’s standards, the pain started to subside. It was still there, but it was better. Wally let out another gasp and whimper. John brought him into a hug, then Shayera surrounded them both with her arms and then her wings.

“That’s never happened before.” Wally mumbled, closing his eyes tightly as the pain flared up again for a moment.

“You probably just sat still for too long.” Shayera offered. She drew back her wings as Wally leaned back and away from the hug.

“That’s never happened before either.” He added, a pouty lip protruding.

“Just try to keep stretching it for a bit. We can stay longer, there aren’t any emergencies.” John said. Wally smiled at him. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if John was his best friend or his older brother figure. He guessed he could be both.

“Come on,” Shay said, hoisting Wally up into her arms. He made a small squeak at the sudden movement, then he was plopped down on the couch again, and John and Shayera both sat beside him again.

“I don’t think you have to do all this.” Flash muttered under his breath, because he had no idea how to say thanks for sitting with me while I just fought for my life against a leg cramp of all things.

“Well, we can just leave.” Hawkgirl drawled, moving as if she would get up. Flash quickly, though somewhat slowly for him, grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

“No, that's fine.” He insisted, holding onto her wrist. She smiled, shook him off, then threw her arm around his shoulders and brought him into a half-hug. He leaned against her shoulder with a hum.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, still a little embarrassed. John lightly bumped his shoulder before moving a bit closer to him.

“Anytime Hotshot.” he assured.

Wally may never see all the little things, but his family always would catch what he missed.

End Notes: I actually looked up the yawning thing, and yes, it is contagious. if you see, hear, or think about someone yawning, you yawn too. people actually yawn to cool down their brains which wasn't explained very well in the article so I don't fully understand that. also your eyes water when you yawn because it strains your face muscles and affects your tear ducts! anyway, wally whump and family bonding! also this is sort of an au where the three of them shared their secret IDs with each other before the others, so they both know Wally is Flash, and Wally and John know Shayera is Hawkgirl's real name.

Also I definitely go between seeing John as Wally’s father figure or his older brother, or just his bestie. But I thought brother would work best in this situation (also if John isn’t Wally’s dad Bruce 100% is imo)

I appreciate any comments and kudos, and I hope you all have a lovely day <3

[sugdenlovesdingle]

It's finally done!

And only three days late!

my @911reversebang fic

California (AO3) inspired by the awesome art by redpinkdots

TK doesn't move to Austin with Owen after his OD but decides to check himself into rehab to get clean once and for all. Only reading websites is hard and things aren't exactly the way he thought they would be.

A/N: I got this idea the first time I saw the artwork and I was so excited when I got assigned this. But life™ kind of got in the way and I really struggled with this fic in more ways than one. Though I'm pretty happy with the result in the end and I hope you'll enjoy it too. And just FYI - all I know about both California and rehab facilities is what I've seen and heard in various tv shows and quick google searches... so it's probably hella inaccurate... but just go with it.

TW: Mentions of TK's overdose and addiction

TK opened his eyes and closed them again right away. The bright lights hurt his eyes and he groaned trying to remember where he was and how he’d gotten there. Because he definitely wasn’t in his bed in his apartment.

“TK? Are you awake?” a familiar voice asked but the fog in his brain wouldn’t lift enough for him to put a face and name to it.

“Welcome back mister Strand. You gave everyone quite the scare.” Someone else said and this time TK was sure he didn’t know them.

Someone, possibly the same person, adjusted his blanket and suddenly he noticed a beeping noise.

He opened his eyes a tiny bit and saw nothing but bright and white.

His brain needed a minute to process the information.

Hospital.

Again.

Shit.

He squeezed his eyes shut yet again.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m here. We both are.”

“Dad?” he asked, or more like croaked. His throat hurt and his mouth was dry.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s ok. You’re going to be ok.” He felt his dad squeeze his hand.

Someone grabbed his other hand and when TK turned his head to look at them, a white hot knife was slammed into his brain.

Or at least that’s how it felt.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in and out a few times to get the pain to subside.

In through his nose, out through his mouth.

Suddenly a familiar scent hit his senses and this time he knew exactly what it meant.

“Mom?”

Her perfume was always a comfort to him. Ever since he was a little boy. Only now it reminded him of how much he’d let her down. Again.

“Yes sweetheart I’m here. I’m right here. You’re going to be ok. I’ll make sure of it.”

He slowly opened his eyes again and saw his mother sitting next to his hospital bed.

“What happened?”

“We were hoping you could tell us.” His dad said from his other side.

“Owen.” Gwyn warned him and then turned to her son. “You’re in hospital… they uh… they had to pump your stomach. Your dad found you in your apartment.”

“You OD-ed. You weren’t breathing. I had to use Narcan to bring you back.” Owen told him and seemed to struggle to swallow past the lump in his throat. “If we’d been just a little bit later…”

“But you weren’t.” Gwyn cut in, clearly eager to move the conversation along. “Just… try to get some rest and when you’re ready, you can tell us what happened.” She squeezed TK’s hand.

“What time is it?”

“About 4.30.” Owen answered after glancing at his watch. “Don’t worry, the nurses won’t kick us out after visiting hours.”

“No… I… I have to go.” TK said, trying to sit up and ignore the pain in his body. “My shift starts at 5. I have to go. I can’t be late.”

“Wow, wow, wow. TK calm down. Son. TK.” Owen tried, getting up from his seat and trying to make TK stay in bed.

“Tyler Kennedy Strand.” Gwyn started and TK knew he was in trouble whenever his mother used his full name. “You stay in that bed and rest until someone with MD behind their name says otherwise.”

TK considered his options for a minute and then relaxed under his father’s grip and sagged back against the bed.

Owen squeezed his shoulder.

“You’ve been through a lot. Just take your time. The guys understand.”

“They know?”

Owen glanced at Gwyn for help before taking a deep breath.

“What? What’s going on?” TK asked.

“Some of them were with me when I found you. The others I had to tell when you didn’t show up for your shift.”

“What? My shift starts at five.”

“No… Your shift started at five on Sunday. It’s Wednesday now. You’ve been in a coma for three days.”

“What? I… how… That… It can’t be.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” The voice from before said and this time TK glanced around and saw a nurse of around his age. “The doctor will be around later to asses you.” She told him and left.

“Asses me? What does that mean?”

His parents shared a look.

“I think they’ll want to do a psych evaluation… to determine if you need to be admitted as a suicide risk.” Owen said after a beat.

TK sighed and closed his eyes.

“Great.”

“Should they?”

He opened one eye.

“Should they what?”

“Admit you as a suicide risk?”

“What? No!” TK said immediately but the look on his parents faces told him he wasn’t very convincing. “I don’t know… I’m pretty tired. I think I just need to get some rest.” He turned away from Owen.

Unfortunately that meant he was now facing his mother.

“Does it have something to do with Alex?” Gwyn asked and TK felt his heart shatter all over again at the mention of his boyfriend’s name. Or ex-boyfriend now he supposed. “I know you were going to propose… and he’s not here now…”

TK threw an accusing glare over his shoulder at his father.

“You told her?”

“I didn’t realise it was a secret. You were all but shouting it from the Empire State building.”

“It wasn’t your news to share! I would have told her myself if there was something to tell!”

“So is there something to tell?” Gwyn interrupted, well trained in stopping arguments between her son and ex-husband before they could explode.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” TK said, pulling the blanket up to his ears and closing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

---

A few days, multiple tests, and a mandatory psych evaluation later, TK found himself back in his childhood bedroom in his mom’s apartment.

He’d fought his parents tooth and nail to let him go back to his own place, insisting he was fine, but they’d blatantly refused.

He’d overheard Owen making calls to clear his schedule so he could be there for him, and his mom had told him she’d be working from home for the foreseeable and it was up to him to decide which parent he’d move in with.

He’d picked her because at least she’d be working and wouldn’t be hovering over him 24/7 like his dad would if neither of them would have anything to do all day.

He knew it was because they cared, but he just wanted to wallow in peace.

He rolled over in the small single bed to check his phone. Mostly out of habit since it had died on him days ago and his charger was still on his bedside table in his apartment.

Deep down he knew that if he’d been left alone with a fully charged phone, he would have ended up doing something he’d regret.

Something like calling Alex and begging him to take him back. Or yelling at him and calling him every name under the sun.

Possibly both.

But he was petty enough not to want to admit that to either of his parents.

Suddenly a knock on his bedroom door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Permission to enter without you taking your bad mood out on me?”  

TK looked up and pushed himself up on his elbows.

“Enzo?”

“Hey kid, I come in peace.”

“What are you doing here? Did mom send you to check up on me?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Enzo said, sitting down in TK’s desk chair.

“That’s a yes then.” TK said and sat up. “Wait, how did you get in? I didn’t hear the doorbell and mom is at the office.”

Enzo held up a keyring with several keys on it.

“There is this great invention called keys. They let you get into places without ringing the doorbell.” He joked.

“You have a key to this place?”

“Of course.”

TK narrowed his eyes.

“Are you and mom back together?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Enzo replied with a grin. “And I’m not here to talk about me. How are you holding up?”

TK shrugged.

“Mostly bored. Daytime tv sucks and I’m getting sick of staring at these walls. But it’s better than mom and dad constantly hovering over me and checking up on me.”

“Don’t you think they have good reason to do that? It’s not like you stubbed your toe.”

“I know.” TK sighed and let himself fall back on his bed. “I just want to forget it happened. All of it. But I can’t. Dad put me on medical leave and mom made me come back here instead of letting me go back home.”

Enzo nodded.

“She told me.”

TK rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow.

“She won’t leave me alone for more than an hour. She’s only gone now because she absolutely had to go to the office and couldn’t get out of it. And now she’s sent you to babysit me.”

“I’ve had worse afternoons.” Enzo shrugged.

TK let out a grunt and dropped back onto his bed again, trying to ignore the feeling of being thirteen and grounded for doing something stupid while Enzo tried to get him to talk about why he’d done what he did.

“I didn’t… plan it…” TK started after a while. “I just… I wanted… to stop feeling.”

“And taking a bunch of pills was the way to do that?”

“I know it was stupid alright? But I wasn’t thinking clearly.” TK admitted and sat up again. “I proposed to Alex and he turned me down.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. And then he told me he was in love with his spin instructor and they’d been dating behind my back.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought we had a future together, he was just trying to get rid of me. I’m such an idiot.”

“You trusted the guy you fell in love with. That doesn’t sound so idiotic to me.”

TK shook his head.

“I always do this. I fall for a guy who doesn’t like me back or just wants something casual.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now…” Enzo started and waited until he had TK’s full attention. “But one day, and I hope that day will come soon, you’re going to meet someone who is as crazy about you as you are about him. And you’re going to be so happy. So happy that this will be nothing but a bad memory.”

“You’re right. That’s not what I want to hear.” TK told him and looked down at his duvet. “And it’s never going to happen anyway. I’m damaged goods. Nobody is going to want to be with me.”

---

“If you’re going to my place to get clean clothes you might as well take me with you.” TK pleaded with his father. “I’ll stay where you can see me the whole time, I promise. I just want my phone charger and my laptop. I’m not going to score, I’m just bored.”

It was a few days after his talk with Enzo, and after some pushing from his stepfather, he’d told his parents why he’d taken the pills.

It had both cleared the air and made them hover and smother him even more. He was going stir crazy and would do just about anything to get out of the apartment.

Owen hesitated for a minute but then sighed.

“Fine. We can’t keep you locked in here forever I suppose.”

“Exactly.” TK jumped up from his seat and went to grab his jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”

They decided to walk to TK’s apartment instead of getting the subway in the middle of rush hour.

“Maybe we can stop by the station on the way back. So I can let the guys know I’m ok and I’ll be back at work soon.”

“Back at work? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Did you call that therapist for an appointment?”

“What? No. I don’t need one. I just need to get back to work. Like you said, I can’t keep hanging around mom’s apartment all day and you can’t keep getting Enzo to check up on me when you’re at work.”

“He offered to stop by! He wanted to catch up and see how you were doing.”

“Well I’m fine.” TK insisted. “And I’d be even better if you’d let me go back to work.”

“I will. Once your therapist signs off on it.” Owen told him and then lowered his voice. “You nearly died TK. You overdosed. I know why you did it, I know it wasn’t an accident, and I can’t let you go back on shift when you’re not in the right headspace. You’d be putting the whole team at risk.”

TK rolled his eyes and started walking faster, zigzagging between commuters and groups of tourists in an attempt to shake off his dad. It was petty and childish but in that moment he didn’t care.  

He reached his apartment door with Owen far enough behind to not even be in sight, which pleased his inner angry teenager greatly. He put a hand in his pocket to grab his keys, only to remember he didn’t have them on him.

His dad had been to his apartment to get him a change of clothes when he’d been released from hospital and had taken his keys.

“Great.” He muttered and sat down in front of his door to sulk and wait for his dad.

Only when he heard footsteps approaching a few minutes later, it wasn’t Owen who came round the corner.

“Alex.”

“TK. Hey.” Alex smiled and TK hated that he still got butterflies in his stomach from just being near him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just coming to see how you are. I don’t like the way we left things.” Alex explained. “I’ve been trying to call you but it keeps going to voicemail.”

“Phone is dead.” TK snapped. “And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh come on TK. People break up all the time. We can still be friends, right?”

TK snorted.

“Friends? Do you really think I want to be friends with you?” He stood up. “You broke my heart, Alex. I loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you! I proposed!”

“Yeah… well… you always were more into it all than me.”

“Just go Alex. Leave me alone.” TK sighed and turned his back to the other man, wishing again he had his keys on him.

“I uh… actually… needed to talk to you…? I uh… lost my sunglasses. The designer ones I bought last summer? Did I leave them at your place?”

“Are you for real?!” TK exploded, just as Owen rounded the corner.

“What’s going on here?”

“I was just asking TK if I’d left my sunglasses at his place.” Alex explained, trying to sound casual. He knew full well Owen didn’t like him.

“After he dumped me for his spin instructor when I proposed to him!” TK yelled. “You cheated on me for god knows how long and if I hadn’t proposed you still wouldn’t have told me!”

“That’s not true. I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“How considerate.” TK said sarcastically. “Just go away and leave me alone. I don’t have your stupid sunglasses. Maybe ask your other boyfriend if he’s seen them.” He held his hand out to Owen. “Keys please.”

Owen handed him the keys and put himself between TK and Alex, staring the man down.

“TK doesn’t want to talk to you and if you don’t leave now, I know some people in the NYPD who might want to talk to you instead.”

“Breaking up with someone is not a crime.”

“Maybe not. But harassment is.”

“TK just let me have a quick look around for my sunglasses. I know I wore them last time I came over.” Alex said, attempting to step around Owen to get to TK but Owen stopped him with a glare and a hand on his chest.

“I think you should leave. Now. Before I do something I regret.”

“Are you threatening me Captain Strand?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now leave.”

After a minute Alex decided to cut his losses.

“Let me know if you find them!” he called out to TK before turning and walking down the stairs.

Owen rolled his eyes and walked into TK’s apartment, doing his best to ignore the place he’d found TK barely two weeks ago, pale, cold, and barely holding onto life.

Thankfully this time, TK was alive and well and shoving clothes into a bag.

“Do you need me to grab anything?” Owen offered.

“Bathroom.” TK replied, voice breaking as if he was trying not to cry. Owen decided to leave him be for now and just busied himself gathering TK’s shampoo and shaving kit.

Maybe they could make a quick stop downtown after all on the way back to Gwyn’s place. Seeing the crew might cheer him up and take his mind off things.

---

Despite Owen’s best efforts, TK hadn’t cheered up from a visit to their firehouse and had barely left his bedroom since they’d gotten back to Gwyn’s place.

He was worried about him and he knew Gwyn was too.

Almost a week had passed without TK making any kind of move to pick himself back up and Owen had convinced Gwyn to stage an intervention with him to pull TK out of his own mind.

That’s where they were now. The three of them sat at Gwyn’s kitchen table, staring each other down, none of them really knowing where to start.

“I don’t know what your plan was, but if it was just us sitting here, staring at each other, you can do it without me.” TK said and pushed his chair back and got up.

“TK. Sit down.” Gwyn told him and reached out for his hand. “Please. Your father and I just want to talk to you.”

TK sighed and sat back down.

“About what? That I should go to therapy? Or NA? That you’ll be there for me every step of the way? That it’ll be good for me?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, gearing up for a fight.

“I got offered a job.” Owen interrupted. “In Austin, Texas. Rebuilding a firehouse that lost almost its entire crew.”

“Ok.” TK said after a minute of letting the sudden change of subject sink in. “Good for you, dad.”

“I think I’m going to take it.”

TK nodded.

“So you’re moving to Texas then.”

“Yeah… I… we… your mother and I… we both think you should come with me.”

“What? No way. My life is here. My friends, my job.”

“You’ll make new friends. Better friends.”

“Friends who don’t use.” TK deadpanned.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Owen asked. “And you’ll have a job at the firehouse with me.”

“So you can check up on me.” TK said, daring him to disagree. “And why would I move to hate crime, USA? I’m gay, dad. And Jewish. Texas isn’t the most welcoming place for people like me.”

“I’m sure a big city like Austin isn’t so bad.” Gwyn offered. “If you want to go back to temple I can reach out and ask for recommendations for LGBT+ friendly places in Austin.”

“I’m not moving to Texas!” TK yelled and got up and started pacing. “I actually found a rehab place in California. I emailed them to ask if they have a place for me. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure there was anything to tell, but if they get back to me and tell me I can come, I’m going.  A few weeks of yoga on the beach and I’ll be fine. I’ll be able to go back to work and actually do the things I trained for instead of hanging around this place all day.”

“California?” Gwyn interrupted. “When did you find that place?”

“The other day. When we got back from packing up my stuff.”

“Ok. And what kind of place is it? Can you show me the website?”

“It’s just this wellness thing. I don’t have the details right now.” TK brushed her off and turned his attention to his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

“If it’s yoga you want, I can go to yoga classes with you here. You don’t need to go to the other side of the country.” Owen offered. “Just no goat yoga. I’ve heard weird things about that.” He tried to joke to relieve the tension.

TK didn’t reply just focused on his phone.

“Everything alright? TK?”

“Uh yeah, yeah… I just got an email from that place in California I found… they have a place for me. I can start the program as soon as tomorrow.”

“That’s good isn’t it?” Gwyn asked “That’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah… I uh… just didn’t think I’d be able to start so soon.”

“You don’t have to go.” Owen said, trying to find the right words. “I mean. You can go to NA here, I can come with you. There are clinics and programs here in NYC too. You don’t have to do it all on your own. I want to help you. So does your mother.”

“I know dad… but I… I think I just… I need to get away. I just… need to put as much distance between me and… everything that’s bad for me here.” TK said as if he was telling himself why going to California was the best thing for him.

“Like Alex.”

“No. Yes. Not just him. This isn’t his fault. It’s on me.”

“Him being a lying, cheating…”

“Dad…”

“What?” Owen asked. “It sure as hell didn’t help, did it?”

TK shook his head.

“You’ve never liked him.”

“Clearly with good reason.”

“Tell me more about this place in California you found?” Gwyn interrupted, trying to get the conversation back on track. “What do they offer except yoga?”

“It’s… some kind of retreat. I think. I signed up pretty quickly so I wouldn’t change my mind.”

“But it’s a rehab facility?”

“Yeah. They have medical staff and they offer therapy. I think I’ll be good for me.”

“Why don’t you just come to Texas with me? We’ll start over together.” Owen offered. “I’m sure they have yoga classes in Texas too.”

“No, dad… I need to do this on my own. I want to do this. I want to get clean once and for all.”

“And you think going to California will help you do that?” Gwyn asked.

“Yeah. Yeah I think so.” TK told them. “And there was this guy in the academy with me. Evan B... something. He transferred to LA to be closer to his sister or whatever… I don’t really remember. But maybe I can message him when I’m done, see if there are any jobs going with the LAFD. Stay out west for a while.”

“You have a job here. And I can get you a job in Texas.” Owen said, earning him a glare from his ex-wife. “But if you think California is the right thing to do for you… we’ll both support you.

---   

A few days, a maxed out credit card, a teary airport goodbye, an exhausting flight, and a three hour time difference to mess with his head later, TK stepped off the plane in California and went to the motions of reclaiming his bag.

He threw it over his shoulder and shuffled through the arrivals hall with the rest of the passengers. As soon as he walked through the doors, someone rushed past him. He wanted to snap at the guy and maybe throw in a snide comment or two, but then he saw him practically throw himself at another guy holding a heart shaped balloon and he had to look away. He couldn’t deal with happy couples right now.

Instead he made himself focus on looking for whoever the clinic had sent to pick him up.

He noticed a guy in a simple button down shirt and jeans instead of the usual corporate three piece grey suit holding a sign that, upon closer inspection, said Tyler Strand.”

“Hi. I think you’re here for me.” He told the guy, walking up to him.

“Are you Tyler Strand?”

“Yeah. I uh… go by TK actually. “Tyler Kennedy. Two first names. My parents have never agreed on anything in their lives, naming me was no different… this was their compromise.”

“Oh. Sorry about that. I just copied what was on the form.”

“It’s fine. Someone getting my name wrong is the least of my problems at the moment.”

“Yeah.” The guy said and cleared his throat. “ Uhm… Do you have everything? Your luggage?”

“Just this.” TK shrugged the shoulder his bag was hanging from.

“Alright. Let’s get going then. It’s not that far from here. Only about an hour and a half’s drive.” The guy told him and started walking. “I’m Carlos by the way.”

TK followed him out of the airport and to the parking lot where he unlocked a plain black car, thankfully without any logos or the name of the retreat on it.

“Just throw your bag in the back, it’s open.” Carlos told him and TK did as he was told before getting into the car.

They pulled out of the parking lot and soon they were onto the highway.

As much as TK tried to focus on the random pop songs playing on the radio, the guy sitting next to him intrigued him for some reason and he wanted to talk to him to find out more about him.

“So are you a therapist or just the driver?”

“I’m not a therapist.” Carlos told him, glancing back and forth between TK and the road. “Though I’ve been told I’m a good listener if you want to talk.” He shot TK a quick smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m more of an activities kind of guy.”

“Activities? What is this, summer camp?”

Carlos laughed.

“Well… in a way. Though a bit unconventional. Maybe more like boy scouts? For adults.”

“I was never a boy scout.” TK shrugged. “Born and raised in Manhattan. The most exotic place my parents took me was the Bronx zoo.”

Carlos laughed.

“I’ll try not to hold it against you.”

They made small talk about the music on the radio, the latest celebrity scandal, an upcoming superhero film, and even the weather, until TK felt himself getting drowsy and rested his head against the window, planning to close his eyes for five minutes.

The next thing he knew was Carlos gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, you fell asleep about an hour ago but we’re here.”

TK rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around.

“Right. Ok. Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok. You probably needed the rest.” Carlos gave him a friendly smile and helped him grab his stuff from the trunk. “Do you want to go over the paperwork now or do you want to get settled in first?”

“Papers.” TK replied right away. “Get it over with.”

“Alright, follow me.”

Carlos lead him into a building and down a few hallways. They met a couple of people along the way and Carlos greeted them all in passing. Though they all seemed to be staff rather than patients and it made TK curious.

“How many people are here.. for uh… help?”

“About 30 in total. Not that many.” Carlos replied, opening a door with a key card. “That way we have more time to curate people’s experience based on their needs.” 

TK snorted.

“Did you just quote the website?”

Carlos shot him a grin.

“What can I say, I like to be prepared.”

He opened another door and entered an office and gestured for TK to sit down.

“Just give me a minute to find everything. I don’t usually do the paperwork thing and this isn’t my office.” He explained. “I don’t have an office.”

“It’s fine.” TK shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.”

Carlos opened a few drawers and pulled out some forms.

“Ok, let’s get started. First question. When is the last time you used?”

“Anything?”

“Hmm.”

“On the plane here…” TK admitted reluctantly.

“What did you take?”

“Just… two little bottles of vodka from the drinks cart. To take the edge off.”

Carlos nodded and wrote down TK’s answers.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“And before today? What was your drug of choice?”

“Anything I could get my hands on…” TK told him, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands. Thankfully the track marks on his arms weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been, but he still felt self-conscious about them.

Carlos’s eyes flicked to his arms but he didn’t acknowledge the move.

“Ok. You said you overdosed in your application, what did you use?”

“Pills… they were easiest to get…” TK answered, squirming in his seat, regretting not choosing to go to his room first.

“Oxy?”

“Yes… do we really have to do this?”

Carlos put his pen down.

“You can fill it in yourself if you’d rather… but one of us has to somehow. These need to be filled in and filed before your treatment can fully start.”

“Right.”

“Look, I know this is a lot but it’s only going to get better from here.”

“Hopefully.”

“You don’t think you can do it?”

TK sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I want to. For my parents. I’ve caused them so much pain…”

“But…” Carlos prompted.

“But… this isn’t my first time trying to get clean.” TK sighed. “I just… don’t know if I can do it. Maybe this is as good as it gets.” He shrugged. “I get clean for a few months and then just… find a reason to score again.”

“And why shouldn’t this time be different? Why shouldn’t this time be the time you kick the habit for good?”

TK shook his head.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired. Can we finish this another time? Tomorrow maybe?”

Carlos smiled and TK felt a little bit of the pent up anxiety slowly slip away.

“Sure. I’ll show you to your room.”

---

The next morning TK was woken up by someone knocking on his door.

He dragged himself out of bed and opened it to see Carlos standing there in work out gear.

“Morning.” He said happily. “Are you ready to start the day?”

“What?” TK blinked and tried to wake himself up enough to figure out what was going on.

“It’s a nice morning. We’re going for a run. The others are on their way too.”

“Others? Run? What?”

“It’s part of the program you signed up for.” Carlos said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Healthy body and a healthy mind.”

“I… I don’t… I… think… uhm… I don’t understand.”

Carlos smiled.

“Not a morning person?”

“No. Yes. I mean. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s time to start the day with a run. And then when we’re done with that we can finish the paperwork from yesterday before the afternoon program starts.”

“Afternoon program?” TK shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The program.” Carlos said and proceeded to run TK through an itinerary that exhausted him just listening to it.

“I… What’s going on?” TK asked “Is this bootcamp for navy SEALs?”

“Hardly.” Carlos snorted “But this is what you signed up for.”

“No… I think I’d remember joining the army.”

“I know it can be a lot on your first day but you get used to it soon enough. Trust me.”

“I… I think there’s been a mistake. I was under the impression this was more… yoga on the beach and spiritual awareness and all that.”

“Well… I do yoga in my spare time, I know a few poses. I’m not an instructor or anything but we can set something up after dinner maybe.”

“After going through special ops training? I don’t think I’ll be alive.”

“It’s not so bad. Honestly.”

“Somehow I doubt that. I guess I didn’t really read the website that well when I signed up. I uh… I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll figure out a way to get back to the airport and see if there’s room on a flight back east any time soon.”

Carlos crossed his arms in front of his chest and TK had to force himself to not let his eyes linger on the way his muscles moved under his shirt.

“So you’re just giving up? I didn’t think you were a quitter.” He uncrossed his arms. “But I guess it’s easier to leave than to admit you can’t cut it.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Not everyone can handle this program. It’s good to know your limits. I’ll drive you back to the airport myself. Do you need to call anyone? The phone signal is kind of hit and miss out here. Mostly miss.”

TK knew Carlos was baiting him but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Give me five minutes.”

---

TK considered himself to be in pretty good shape. His firefighter training made sure of that. He’d been in the top 5 of his class in the academy and could definitely hold his own compared to the more experienced members of his crew.

Only the program he’d apparently signed up for now seemed designed to actually kill him. He was sure even Navy SEALS would think it was too much.

The morning run wasn’t just a few miles in the area or even on a track, but through the woods near the facility. Uphill and down again. Avoiding tree roots, rocks, overgrown areas, and random holes.

They were running in a group but TK, as well as some other patients, were trailing behind.

Just as he was trying to figure out a route back to base camp as he’d started calling the clinic in his head, Carlos caught up with him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. Fine.” TK panted. “Is this your tactic? Trying to kill me? If I’m dead I won’t think about wanting to use?”

Carlos chuckled.

“Has anyone ever told you, you can be pretty dramatic?”

TK grinned.

“Often. But it’s part of my charm.” He said and dropped down at the foot of a tree to catch his breath.

Carlos gestured to his coworker and the rest of the group to keep going and sat down next to him.

“So when did you decide to be an army drill sergeant?” TK asked, using his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“I’m a cop actually. Or… used to be I guess.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“You like torturing people.”

“I like helping people.” Carlos insisted. “That’s why I left the force. A friend of a friend got me this job. I figured I could do more good here than arresting people for minor offences.”

TK nodded.

“That’s… very noble of you.” He settled on.

“Try telling my family that.” Carlos sighed. “My whole family is in law enforcement somehow. My dad especially wasn’t happy when I quit my job. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, carry on the family legacy.”

“Yeah… I know a thing or two about following in your father’s footsteps.” TK said and leaned back against the tree.

They sat in silence for a while until they heard the rest of the group coming closer and got up to join them again.

---  

“So how did you end up here? You don’t seem like the typical Californian surfer dude.”

Carlos laughed.

“What do they look like then?”

TK shrugged.

“I don’t know. Not like you. More… bleached blond and beady necklaces. And flip flops.”

“Well you’ve got me there. I’m from Texas originally. Austin.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I grew up on a ranch on the outskirts of the city.”

“A ranch? So you’re a farmer? Or a cowboy?”

“Neither. Both. It’s complicated.”

TK nodded.

“Does complicated have a name?”

“Yeah. Dad.”

It had become a thing. Whenever they could get away with it, TK and Carlos would just hang out and talk. No pressure from the group sessions or the one on one talks with his assigned therapist, but just the two of them.

Since he’d gone through the worst of the withdrawal in hospital back in New York, his treatment mostly consisted of working on his mental health. And thankfully for him, talking to Carlos did just that. They had a similar sense of humour, similar complicated relationships with their families, and just generally got on well.

He’d told him about Alex, Carlos told him about marrying his best friend in an attempt to please his family.

“How did that work out for you?”

“Badly.” Carlos shrugged. “I mean we’re still friends… and my mom had a framed picture of us on display with the rest of the family pictures. For a while I told myself that meant I’d done the right thing. But it wasn’t.”

“If we were allowed to drink here, I’d buy you a beer and we could raise a glass to making bad decisions to please our parents.”

---

A few days later, the group TK was in was going on a hike with an overnight stay in the woods near the clinic.

TK was less than enthusiastic about it, and told Carlos as much (repeatedly) as he helped pack tents and other gear.

“Just think of it as going camping.” Carlos offered. “It’ll be fun. Connecting with nature and stuff. Maybe I can even smuggle in some ‘smores.”

TK gave him a blank look.

“I’m from NYC. I grew up in Manhattan. My parents are workaholics. What makes you think I ever went camping as a kid.?”

“You mean you never pitched a tent in central park?” Carlos joked. “Or maybe swam in that fountain you see in every movie?”

“I’ve done a lot of things in Central Park…” TK started. “But somehow never that.”

“Well, maybe you should. It’s good to have a goal in life.”

“Only if you come bail me out when I get arrested.”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a long commute from here.”

TK laughed and ducked his head. Their talks had started to get a little, or a lot, flirty and he was fairly confident Carlos liked it as much as he did. Liked him.

Only every time TK thought the other man might make a move, or when he was hyping himself up to do so, Carlos would come up with some excuse that meant he had to be as far away from TK as possible for at least a couple of hours.

He wanted to ask why but also wasn’t ready for a simple answer like Carlos just not liking him like that.

So instead he said nothing and just admired Carlos from a distance and made himself talk to other people.

Which was going fine until about 15 minutes into their hike when one of the other patients tripped and fell down a hill.

TK’s first responders training kicked in and he rushed over to them, skidding and sliding down the hill.

“Let me have a look, I’m a paramedic. Don’t move.” He told the woman. He’d talked to her a few times and vaguely remembered her name was Hannah and she was from Wisconsin. He tried to examine her as best he could without his medical gear. She had a head wound and her leg was obviously broken.

He noticed someone coming down the hill after them and didn’t have to look to know it was Carlos.

“I have a first aid kit. It’s got the basics.” He said, unzipping his backpack.

With Carlos’ help, TK managed to treat Hannah’s injuries while one of the other staff members radioed for a medevac to get her out of there and to a hospital.

“Someone needs to get up there to show the helicopter where exactly we are. It’s the only place they’ll be able to land.” Carlos said, nodding at a an open place higher up from where they were and turned to TK. “How are you with heights?”

“Fine.” TK shrugged. “I’m a firefighter.”

“I thought you said you were a paramedic?”

“I am. Both. I’m dual certified.”

“Really? That’s impressive.”

They carefully climbed up to the landing spot and with help of the rest of the group and the paramedics, they got Hannah onto the helicopter and on her way to the hospital.

“You two make a pretty good team.” Luke, one of the other patients said, and TK found himself agreeing with him.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?” Carlos said with a smile.

---

“We’ll set up camp on the other side of this river.” One of the other staff members announced as the group walked up to a river a while later.

“And how do we get there?” TK asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“We cross it.”

“By bridge?”

Next to him Carlos laughed.

“Did they teach you to swim in firefighter training?”

“They did not actually. The only water I handled in that was the kind that’s supposed to save you from burning to death in abandoned warehouses.”

“That’s… oddly specific.” Lexi, the other staff member commented.

TK shrugged.

“It’s the easiest thing to set up for training recruits.”

“Anyway.” Carlos clapped his hands. “I hope everyone can swim because we’re going through the water to the other side of the river.”

“And how do we do that with all of the stuff we’ve been dragging around?” TK asked him.

“You tell me.”

TK raised an eyebrow.

“This is beginning to feel more and more like summer camp. Or boy scouts.”

“I thought you’d never been a boy scout?”

“I’ve seen them on tv.”

Carlos laughed.

“Well in the beginning you were calling this basic training for Navy SEALs so I guess you’re getting used to it all.” He winked and TK suddenly didn’t mind the hiking and the camping so much anymore.

After some arguing and general chaos, the group managed to work together to create some kind of raft to get them and their gear to the other side of the river, without swimming.

Only the raft wasn’t very stable and when it was TK’s turn, he leaned to one side too much, causing the raft to flip and him ending up in the water.

Thankfully it was a warm day so he didn’t mind too much. But he could’ve done without making a fool out of himself in front of Carlos.

Carlos who was getting into the water with him to help him get his stuff onto the river bank.

Carlos who looked unfairly gorgeous in a wet t shirt.

“Are you ok?” He asked TK who was trying to swim to shore with some of his dignity intact.

“Yeah. Just a bruised ego.”

After the rest of the group made it across in one piece, they all helped Carlos and TK get out of the water and see how much of their stuff was still ok to use.

“I think you two should just go dry out in the sun for a while.” Lexi told them. “We’ll lay out your tent, TK, so it can dry too.”

“My tent is big enough for the both of us.” Carlos cut in. “We’ll lay your sleeping bag out in the sun and we’ll just share my tent. If that’s ok with you?” He asked TK who was about to actually jump for joy.

“Sure.” He replied, hoping he sounded a lot more casual than he felt. “I promise I don’t snore.” He joked.

“That’s ok. I can sleep through anything. My sisters used to share a bedroom next to mine when I was a kid and they fought a lot. The walls were paper thin.” Carlos told him as he and TK made their way over to a sunny spot by some rocks near to where the rest of the group was setting up the camp.

TK sat down and closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the afternoon sun.

“We should probably get out of these wet clothes.” Carlos said after a few minutes.

TK opened his eyes and looked at him plucking at his wet t-shirt, obviously uncomfortable.

He grinned.

“Are you trying to get me naked?  

“What? No, no, no. I just don’t want you to catch hypothermia. And neither do I.”

“Well, you know the best way to warm up is sharing body heat.”

Carlos looked at him for what seemed like hours and TK could practically see the cogs turning in his head, working through the various replies, trying to find one that was still the right side of professional.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn’t sure, some of the other patients joined them and their little hang out for two turned into a group therapy session.

“Oh my god, look at that!” TK exclaimed a little while later. “Don’t move guys, you’ll scare him off.”

Carlos followed TK’s line of sight and noticed a small lizard sitting on a nearby rock, observing the intruders in his territory, trying to find out if they were a threat.

“Look at him, he’s so cute.” TK slowly crawled over to the lizard. “Hey buddy. Did you come to say hello?” He carefully moved his hand to try and pet the animal.

“Careful. It might bite.”

“Not if it doesn’t feel threatened. It’s just coming to take a look. He’s just a curious little guy.”

“You like reptiles?” Luke asked, the look on his face making it clear he definitely didn’t.

“Yeah. They’re gorgeous and they can make such great pets. I had a friend in middle school who had a leopard gecko. It was so cute and smart. I was over there all the time.” TK said excitedly. “I practically begged my parents for a lizard for my birthday from then on. I did all the research and worked out where to buy food and everything.”

“Did you ever get it?” Carlos asked.

TK shook his head.

“My dad wanted a dog and my mom had and still has a parrot called Ginsburg.”

“After Ruth Bader Ginsburg?”

“Yeah. My mom’s a lawyer and a politics junkie.” TK said absentmindedly, while still trying to befriend the lizard. The entire group watched with bated breath as he slowly moved his pointer finger closer to the lizard’s head.

Only right before he could have touched it, the lizard decided it had had enough and scurried off.

TK pulled a disappointed face and sat back down.

“Better luck next time.” Luke offered and TK nodded.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get a lizard when I’m done here and going back home.”

Their little group spent the rest of the afternoon talking and just enjoying being out in nature.

By the time it started to get dark, they moved back to the place where they’d put up the tents and everyone got comfortable around the fire.

They talked, shared stories of their lives back home, and offered each other advice and support.

As the night went on, one by one people started calling it a night until it was just Carlos and TK left by the fire.

“Alone at last.” TK said as he moved to sit next to Carlos. “I thought they’d never leave us alone.”

Carlos glanced at him at smiled.

“Are you not enjoying spending time with your fellow patients?”

“They’re alright.” TK shrugged. “But I’d rather spend time with one person in particular.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s kind, helpful, sweet, a great listener, and absolutely insanely gorgeous.”

Carlos bit his lip.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’m a mess.” TK shook his head.

“Maybe. But you’re a hot mess.” Carlos told him, the late hour and the bubble they found themselves in apparently turning off any filter between his brain and his mouth.

TK felt his cheeks heat up but decided to throw caution to the wind and make his move. He leaned in, looking down at Carlos’ lips and back up into the soulful brown eyes that made his heart flutter.

The moment his lips met Carlos’ he felt himself come alive in ways he hadn’t ever thought possible. It started off as nothing more than a press of lips but soon grew more heated as TK ran his tongue along Carlos’ lips until he opened up for him.

He licked into his mouth while his hands had found their way into Carlos’ hair, running his fingers through the soft curls as Carlos ran his hands over TK’s back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Somewhere in the back of his mind TK knew someone could catch them at any given moment, but the feeling of finally getting to kiss Carlos after weeks of quietly pining for him was too good to stop and he wanted more.

He moved his hands from Carlos’ hair, down to his waist and slipping them under his shirt, letting them roam over his chest and stomach.

Carlos pulled back and started kissing his neck and TK discovered he was really into that.

Only when TK’s hands moved lower and started blindly fumbling with the button on Carlos’ jeans, somehow the spell was broken and the moment was gone.

Carlos jumped up and touched his fingers to his lips.

“This… can’t happen.”

“Why not?” TK asked, getting up and taking a step towards him. “We both want it.”

“I’m supposed to be helping you. I can’t take advantage of you like this.”

TK rolled his eyes.

“It’s not taking advantage if I want it.”

Carlos shook his head.

“We can’t. I… I can’t jeopardise your sobriety like this.”

“My sobriety is my own responsibility. That’s what this program is teaching me isn’t it? To take responsibility for my actions. This is me doing that. I want to kiss you and I know you want it too.”

TK took another step forward and closed the distance between them. He slowly leaned in and put his hand on Carlos’ cheek while looking him in the eye.

“I want this.” He said before pressing his lips to Carlos’ in a soft chaste kiss that couldn’t be more different from the first one.

Carlos seemed to almost melt under his touch and TK felt his resolve slipping as he started to kiss him back.

At least until his brain caught up with the rest of his body and he pulled away again.

“I can’t. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have… I just… I can’t. If anyone finds out I’ll get fired so fast… I’m crossing so many lines.”

“I don’t care. I like you. I want this.” TK told him.

“I do care.” Carlos said, almost begging him to understand. “I want to help people get their life back on track. I can’t… do this. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have… I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

“Do you not like me?” TK asked when Carlos had to pause his rambling to take a breath.

“I do. I like you a lot. And if things were different I wouldn’t hesitate to take you out on a date or cook you dinner… But I can’t take advantage of the situation like this.”

“But you’re not.” TK said, trying to make him understand. “You’re not.”

“I am. I’m supposed to help you. I’m supposed to… I don’t know… guide you. You’re a client. I’m in a position of power.”

“What if we just forget that? Just for tonight. And tomorrow we’ll just go back to how things were before.”

Carlos gave him a small smile and TK could tell he was seriously considering it.

“I wish I could.” He replied. “But I don’t think I could go back if I let myself get lost in you. You are… a force to be reckoned with TK Strand. And I wish things were different. I wish we’d just met in a bar or getting a coffee downtown. I wish I could get to know you without all of this.”

“You could. You can. The program is almost over. Nobody has to know. I won’t tell if you don’t.” TK told him and stepped closer again. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Carlos smiled and ran a hand through TK’s hair.

“You deserve the world.” He told him. “And don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Carlos stepped away and disappeared into the tent, only to come back out with his sleeping bag almost right away.

“I’ll sleep out here. It’s supposed to stay dry anyway.”

“Carlos don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I can’t share a tent with you and not touch you. I don’t think I would be able to control myself.”

“Then don’t.” TK pleaded and he could tell Carlos was this close to giving in.

He took a deep breath and made himself step away.

“If things were different…” He looked at TK and shook his head slightly. “It’s better this way.”

The rest of his time in California, TK spent mostly on his own, mourning something he’d never really had.

A few other patients noticed he and Carlos weren’t attached at the hip anymore and his assigned therapist noticed his mood had changed.

He fed all of them some line about being homesick and ended up calling his dad and agreeing to join him in Austin.

On his last day, Carlos was nowhere to be found and TK told himself to accept he just wasn’t interested.

He said goodbye to the friends he’d made and made them promise to look him up if they ever found themselves in Austin Texas. He’d slipped a note under Carlos’ door telling him the same.

“Station 126. Just ask for me.”

One of the staff members TK had only seen but never talked to drove him to the airport and wished him the best.

When he landed in Austin, his dad was waiting for him and pulled him into a hug the moment he walked through the doors after the luggage reclaim.

The house Owen had bought looked like something straight from a home improvement show and TK did his best to make it feel like home.

The dog he’d adopted was a nice distraction and TK took it out on long walks to explore Austin together.

His new coworkers were nice enough and after a few weeks of working together they’d become a close knit friend group.

He hadn’t told them about Carlos however. He hadn’t told anyone. That kiss was his memory and his alone.

Though maybe he should take Paul and Marjan up on their offer of going out to explore the Austin nightlife on their next day off.

Maybe there would be someone to make him forget about Carlos, even if just for one night.

---

“I’m just saying, when in Rome. Or… when in Texas.” A young woman in a hijab said to a black man standing near her as they cleaned the fire engine. Carlos watched them through the open bay doors for a moment before taking a deep breath and walking in.

“Hi… I’m looking for TK Strand. Does he work here?”

“That depends. Who’s asking?” the woman asked.

“I’m Carlos. I’m a… friend from California.” He settled on, not sure how much TK’s coworkers knew about him.

Confusion flashed over the woman’s face and she looked at the man who just shrugged.

“Ok. Wait here. I’ll go see if he’s available.” She instructed him and turned around and walked up some stairs.

When she returned a few minutes later TK was right behind her.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and just stared.

“Carlos? What are you doing here?”

“You told me to look you up if I ever decided to go back to Austin… here I am.”

“I… Yeah… I can see that.” TK stammered, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

The woman and the man from before were still lurking, ready to jump in the moment they deemed it necessary.

“You ok TK?” the woman asked.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s alright. He’s not the guy from New York.”

The woman nodded.

“Alright. Just yell if you need anything. There are a bunch of firefighters up there who have your back.” She said, not quite talking to TK anymore.

“I know. Thanks Marj.”

The woman nodded again and walked back up the stairs, the man following close behind.

“She’s…” Carlos trailed off, not sure what to say.

“Yeah. I told them about my ex… and my OD.”

“Oh. Good. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what you’d told people here…”

“Thanks, but I’ve decided to stop hiding who I am.” TK shrugged. “My addiction is always going to be a part of me. Hiding it won’t change that.”

Carlos nodded.

“That’s… that’s good. I uh… I’ve decided to do the same I guess.” He told TK.

“Not hide your addiction anymore? I didn’t think you had one?”

Carlos shook his head.

“No. I mean… I’m not going to hide who I am anymore. I’m just… still kind of figuring out who that is.”

TK smiled.

“Well… the person I met in California was kind, a good listener, gentle with a slight sadistic streak.” He joked and they both laughed. “What are you really doing here Carlos?”

“I quit my job in California. I’m back in Austin.” Carlos explained. “I’m staying with a friend right now until I get a place of my own.”

“Ok.”

“I just… I know it’s been a few weeks but… I can’t get you out of my head.” He stepped forward and reached out to grab TK’s hand, smiling when TK let him. “I’d like to get to know you… without… everything… from California.”

“But the stuff from California didn’t just go away when I completed the program.”

“I know. But I also know there is more to you than just your addiction.” He took TK’s other hand in his. “Remember when I told you I’d want to cook you dinner and take you out on a date?”

“The night you insisted on sleeping outside because I’d kissed you? Yeah I remember.”

“It was the right decision at the time… but… now things are different… so… if… if you’re still interested… maybe we could… go on that date sometime? And you’d let me cook you dinner?”

“That depends, will you end up sleeping under the stars again?”

Carlos laughed.

“Maybe. If my friend won’t let us use her place. I’ll have to sleep in my car.”

“Do you have a big car?”

“No. Not exactly. I drive a Camaro. Looks cool but limited space for sleeping.”

“Well hopefully your friend will be in a good mood then.”

“Yeah… so is that a yes?”

TK smiled.

“Yeah. It’s a yes.”

Carlos’ smile got impossibly bigger.

“How does Friday sound?”

TK let go of Carlos’ hands and cupped his face.

“It’s a date.” He said and leaned in and kissed Carlos.

Somewhere behind them a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles erupted.

“I think your friends approve.”