#i barely call with my mom once every few months and i see them maybe once or twice a year

[therewithinthestars]

..

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[haikyu-mp4]

Yoga partner

word count; 667 – pregnant!reader

You were a few months pregnant and every time you felt like you were adjusting to the size of your bump, it seemed to get bigger. When you found out you were pregnant, your husband, Bokuto Koutarou, had been moved to tears and there was no lack of support from him so far through the pregnancy. That’s why you weren’t afraid to communicate your troubles to him as they started plaguing your mind.

As it got more difficult to adjust to your body changing, the two of you sat down to research pregnancy activities. And then Koutarou got bored of researching, so he ended up asking someone on the team who had kids instead.

That’s how he learnt about pregnancy yoga. There were classes specifically for pregnant women, and in his excitement, Koutarou had signed you up and encouraged you to go. However, now he was looking at you with a subtle pout as you leaned on the kitchen island, not feeling as sporty as you wished you did.

“I don’t want to go. What if all the others are used to it and do super well while I can barely do anything?” you complained, pouting right back at him. This made him huff, resting his arms on his hips. Then his eyes lit up again. Oh no, an idea.

“Maybe I should go with you!”

Next thing you knew, Koutarou was helping you out of the car, adorned in the gym wear he had that most resembled yours in colour. You were laughing softly, holding his hand as he babbled about how excited he was.

When you walked inside, your laughter died down as you scanned the room. A lot of moms-to-be were staring cautiously, first at you and then at your husband who smiled and waved. You felt the anxiety creep back into you as you whispered your husband's name to alert him, but he took no notice.

“Hello, ladies! Ready for a good workout?” he called out, and it didn’t take long before the moms melted for his personality (and looks probably, but you tried to ignore that for now). In the end, he wasn’t allowed inside the class because of the women's comfort, but he gave everyone encouraging high fives while the trainer led them inside the little gym. Before closing the door behind you as you were last, you turned to him and pulled his shirt down so you could kiss him fiercely.

“That’s for being such a perfect man. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Koutarou was thrilled to see the glow back in your cheeks when you came back out. He had gone for a jog around the neighbourhood but made sure he was back before you finished. When you walked out of the class, you were conversing happily with another woman before bidding her goodbye. You made new friends! Even though you were still shy, you had asked to exchange numbers.

All of this was possible because your husband encouraged and supported you. You truly were blessed to have him and he reminded you every day how lucky you were through this constant support.

Now you even bring him into the living room at least once a week so the two of you can do pregnancy yoga by following some videos you found on YouTube. It’s great fun and Koutarou proudly documents it in the workout journal they fill out for their trainer.

7 pm Pregnancy yoga

Iwaizumi tilted his head at him curiously after looking over this month’s notes. “You’re not supposed to write your wife’s workouts.”

“We’re doing them at home now, too. Feel like it’s doing great things for my bum,” he answered, one hand on each asscheek for emphasis. Iwaizumi already regretted asking about it. Atsumu slapped one of Koutarou's hands off from behind him before staring at his butt and humming.

“Not bad. Maybe we should all do it.”

To say the least, Koutarou is very dedicated to being with you every step of the way.

masterlist

[billybob598]

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni. 

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers. 

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close. 

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation. 

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder. 

“Y/N? Wha-” 

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

[moochi-daisies]

2015.01.

- 18+ Minors DNI

- Content Warnings: None for this chapter! Maybe a moment of tension/annoyance?

- In Summation: Two people fall in love which would make a much shorter story if they had better communication skills.

Length: 3.1k words

- Side Notes: hahaha i hit a wall in the third chapter of this part and have been avoiding tumblr all together out of Shame but maybe posting this will change that. hope you enjoy and thank you for reading :)

Find the rest here!

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     I didn't see Yoongi or any of the guy's for two years after I left.

     Yoongi had texted me midway through my bus trip home, asking that I send back his jacket so that he could be reminded of me whenever he smelled it. He didn't say anything about his scarf, so I kept it. Sleeping with it every night for three months after I returned.

     My mom had been fuming when I got back home, taking away my phone until the next semester of school started. Claiming I "wasn't responsible enough to be trusted" and that "phone's were an adult privilege I could have after reflecting on what it meant to be an adult".

     I don't think anybody truly knows what that means.

     It was about a month afterwards that school started up again. I went to classes, handed my paychecks over to my mom and snuck out with friends whenever one was able to come pick me up. My time spent at that magical house in late November came back to me in dreams, with life going back to the way it had always been, those few days with the guy's drifted into the background like a distant memory.

     I stayed in touch with most of them though, Jimin sent dance videos and asked for story updates. Hobi would ask about life and share clips of songs he was composing. Namjoon sent pictures of them all out doing things together, at parties, on hikes - things like that. I got selfies and stream of consciousness texts from Tae whenever he was at the convenience store, sometimes he'd throw in an art piece he was working on for feedback.

     Jin called me drunk a few times or whenever he was bored at the radio station. He didn't text much beyond cryptic one word messages or to share a new terrible joke he loved.

��    At first, Yoongi and I texted the most. Venting to each other about our days until night came, at which point we'd video call for hours, until one of us fell asleep.

     At first, it was talking of missing each other, reminiscing on how it felt to be near one another, how the kisses were experienced from each point of view. We laughed over how nervous and clueless we both were about how the other felt the whole time.

     At first, we'd stay up until our eyes burned and the sun started to rise again. Asking all the questions we had for each other, learning everything there was for us to learn.

     From there, we started talking about art. Exchanging poetry and books we both loved, discussing the lines that stood out or meant the most to us. Yoongi made playlists of songs for me to listen to and would quiz me on them afterwards to make sure I listened. I started practicing how to write song lyrics, sending him some verses that I hoped would be up to his standards.

     He always said that he loved them.

     "I love how your mind works." he'd often tell me, "I wish I could get inside of it.".

     And I'd get flustered to the point that I could barely respond. A cheesy grin plastered across my face as I returned the compliments, blathering on about how his creative genius inspired me.

     It was around April, when he disappeared.

     Not all at once, but-

     The messages started getting shorter.

     We stopped the video calls.

     Telling him about my day got returned with "lol's" or "ok's".

     He never told me what was happening, and I asked many, many times.

     The abrupt change in his behavior snatched my heart from my chest and began to suffocate it.

     I couldn't go back to see him again or confront him face to face through the distance.

     On our last call to each other I asked him, trying not to plead, if anything was wrong.

     If he was mad at me in any way.

     "Is there something I should be mad about?" was the only response I got.

     We didn't speak again after that call, well, I did. I messaged adamently. Trying to throw out every possible thing I could think of. I even threw out things I knew would never be the case, hoping he would get so annoyed that he'd break and tell me whatever the fuck it was that had made him so mad.

     Ever the master of self-control, he never broke.

     Jungkook and I hadn't spoken at all after I left. I figured it was for the best, that we had had the talks we needed to have. That we agreed to not tell Yoongi and to just leave it at that. It was for the best after all, right?

     Telling Yoongi we had kissed would hurt him, and Jungkook and I were not going to be together.

     Telling him would be like throwing acid at him, just to tell him that it was old acid and not to worry about it anymore.

     Two weeks after Yoongi stopped talking to me entirely however, Jungkook started to text me.

     Like it was a completely normal thing to do, like there was no reason why he wouldn't.

     There was a knife that started to twist in my gut as the "what if" game: Emotionally Heartwrenching Edition, began.

     There were a few top contenders for being the most likely.

     Either;

     1.) Jungkook had told Yoongi about what happened, and Yoongi had gotten mad. (Understandably.)

     2.)  One of the guys had let it slip by accident and Yoongi had gotten mad. (Understandably.)

     3.) Lacey had seen Jungkook and I on the dance floor, and had taken her sweet time before telling Yoongi. Maybe waiting until the trust had started to build between us, so that the breaking of it would hurt that much more. (Absolutely not understandable.)

     Jungkook mentioned nothing about it, simply picking up where we had left off, being a devastatingly good sweet talker and annoyingly easy to have conversations with.

     We had been talking for about a week before I brought it up to him. My phone rang seconds after I sent the message. I was sitting in bed, legs criss-crossed and knuckles white from death gripping my blanket.

     He had no idea what had happened, he told me. All he knew was that Yoongi had started hanging out with Lacey again after a shift at the venue. And that when the guy's had asked him about me, he had shrugged them off without saying a word about it.

     He thought we drifted apart naturally, that it was a mutual thing. That it'd be okay to talk to me again since Yoongi and I weren't anymore.

     With that, Option 3 rose to the most likely scenario and I felt sick to my stomach.

     "Oh." was all I could say. And I hated how meek my voice sounded, not wanting to ask Jungkook of all people to find out more for me.

     Jungkook took it upon himself to offer. And I thanked him, my tone falling flat and listless.

     "I swear I didn't tell him what happened baby.", he sounded desperate as he spoke, " If I had known he just dipped on you I would've brought it up sooner. I'll go talk to the guy's, he's at work right now anyways. Hang on a sec, ok?"

I couldn't form words, a small "mhm" pushed out through tightly pressed lips was all I could manage.

After Jungkook hung up, I sat there in a daze. Different scenes of Lacey telling Yoongi at work one night were flashing through my mind. I cut the less realistic ones short, tossed aside the hyper-dramatized and rapid fire edited the imagined versions down to the most probable one.

The idea of anxiety being unrealistic felt laughable. I didn't want to be right. I wished Jungkook had given any other response besides the one he did. I could've accepted that Yoongi spontaneously decided he was sick of and hated me more easily. Because at least it wasn't confirmation of what I feared to be true.

I also didn't want to accept the fault I played into this happening in the first place. No matter what Lacey said, I did kiss Jungkook. A few times. And I did have feelings for Jungkook, they were different than my feelings for Yoongi, but there all the same.

It was easier to be angry at Lacey.

I didn't keep talking to Jungkook, I had chosen to pursue things with Yoongi and Jungkook and I had come to an understanding. Who the hell did she think she was to stir things up that had been laid to rest? Things were moving forward, things were-

Jimin's name and face lit up the screen, the buzzing of the phone call making me jump.

"Hello?" My hands were clumsy and disconnected as I worked to answer.

"Lovely! Oh my god, are you ok? Well- probably not. Ok, hang on-" Jimin's sweet voice was raised, an array of voices jumbling together in the background. "GUYS! I swear to fuckin' god, we can all talk to her. She only has one pair of ears. Here, lemme get you on speaker.".

"MY ANGEL WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOONGI?!" Tae's deep voice blared through the phone so loudly it vibrated in my hand a little.

"Oooh my god shut up, she doesn't know. Hi hi! It's Hobi! We miss you!" Hobi's voice sang through the phone, slightly louder than the rustling sounds of Tae being pushed away.

"Yo! You good? We're all out here on the couch, Tae hung what you painted in the living room. Looks nice!" Namjoon's mellow voice came next.

     Against my will, I felt a smile start tugging across my face.

"Soooo, we're still us. You miss this madness? Lemme trade with you." Jin said with a groan.

"Okay, so I got everyone!" I heard Jungkook pipe up from a distance.

"Hey guys," their comforting chaos made me chuckle, "Miss you all. No trades, wish you were all here with me." I felt myself relaxing as soon as I got the words out.

"Ok, so, here's the deal. I got the scoop." Jimin started.

Stretching out onto my stomach, I laid my head on my arm, using it to press the phone against my ear. "Bless you" I sighed, chewing on my cheek. "Lay it on me please, before I drive myself insane.".

"Well, uh, Lacey saw you and Jungkook dancing and decided to tell Yoongi about it. I don't know what she said exactly, but she went real heavy on the explicit nature of the dancing. Naughty. Anyways, she convinced Yoongi to get drinks with her that night and they've been hanging out ever since." Jimin paused, huffing out air into his phone so loudly that it tickled my ear.

"Uh, yeah so, she's working real hard to try and get together with him. She felt threatened by you apparently, and is pulling this whole "sweetheart" act-"

"THAT NONE OF US ARE BUYING!" Tae interjected, grabbing the phone from Jimin.

There was a pause before any of them spoke next, muffled sounds of fighting over the phone filling the air.

"Look man, you know we don't like Lacey for Yoongi, she's always fucked with his head and we don't see this going well. But like, you know, he's a grown man. We can't tell him what to do." Namjoon was working to sound casual, but sympathy was still clear in his tone.

I didn't say anything and stared at the wall.

"Well, that sucks." was all I could think to say at first. Laughing bitterly to myself, I rolled on my back and let out a grumble.

"I mean, I did dance with Jungkook. I'm pissed she decided to say something literally months after the fact, it just feels sketchy. But, he wouldn't tell me what to do. I'm not gonna try and tell him what to do either." I said it matter of factly. Like I wasn't internally screaming an obscene string of cuss words at Lacey, Yoongi and myself.

"Be pissed girl!" Hobi hollered, "It's not just sketchy to you. We all, well, almost all of us are pissed for you." his words sped up at the end, blurring together before the phone jostled again.

Jungkook's voice was quieter than normal, sweeter than I expected it to be.

"I'm pissed for you too. It's not like I was happy not talking to you but I don't ever wanna see you hurt. I'm pissed at Yoongi for hurting you like this." it felt like he was trying to hold my heart in his hands. Gently. Not wanting to squeeze too tight.

I thanked the guys and bugged them about visiting before hanging up.

There was a ringing in my ears that made everything feel weird underneath me. Like I could feel the Earth turning but I wasn't a concrete part of it.

Jungkook called me back privately, whispering that he had stepped outside and had wanted to check in on me.

The hurt I was feeling had turned into a little devil on my shoulder, poking at every way this was all my fault.

"Baby?" Jungkook's cute little pet name for me suddenly burned.

"Mhm."

"Do you not wanna talk to me anymore? Like, are you too sad about Yoongi?" the worry in his voice sent guilt hurdling into me.

"Of course I do, I'm sorry. This just, caught me off guard. I am sad, I think I'm too thrown off to feel it right now. I don't know, we did more than just dance together y'know." I brought it up scornfully without thinking, immediately fearful that it sounded abrasive.

The smile in Jungkook's voice was poorly disguised in his response, "So, you've been thinking about us kissing?".

The cute behavior was unfair. Any time I was upset, Jungkook had an infuriatingly charming response to get me smiling again.

I wanted to wallow, dammit.

But the thought of kissing him curled my toes and if I had been strong enough, I was sure my phone would've crumbled in my hand.

I mumbled out an embarrassed, "I don't know", making Jungkook snicker before saying he'd thought about it too. Abruptly hanging up as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

There didn't seem to be a way to make it right.

It wasn't like my feelings for Yoongi had gone anywhere. They were sitting along the bottom of my ribcage and slowly gnawing away at me.

Flipping through the consequences and complications of every situation I could imagine, I landed on two options that seemed the most ethical.

Option 1: Talk to Yoongi and apologize. Possibly stop talking to all of them if he couldn't forgive me.

Option 2: Leave Yoongi alone and possibly stop talking to all of them so that I wouldn't become a source of tension for the group.

I couldn't imagine being on bad terms with just one of them, or not talking to just one of them.

I could respect Yoongi's choice and also let him know I was sorry for not telling him. That I didn't think hurting him was okay. I don't know, maybe I wanted to give him an explanation so badly in hopes that he'd understand and forgive me.

More than that though, I wanted to say sorry because I was sorry. And it felt important to say, regardless of what happened afterwards.

Despite that train of thought, it took me a month and a half to work out what to say.

And another month after that to find the courage to send it.

He never responded.

     I didn't stop talking to the others like I thought I'd have to.

And I kept talking to Jungkook.

     Whenever I couldn't sleep, he'd set up his phone so I could watch him play video games until I drifted off. He'd call me at work and ask to be held in my pocket so he could hear how my day went (it was a bad line he'd gotten from Jin, but he wound up liking doing it).

He told me that he'd apologize to Yoongi for suggesting that we don't tell him. A light of appreciation for him glowed through the layers of pain.

     It was so easy with Jungkook.

     I couldn't say when he became a part of my daily life. It was like I woke up one day and couldn't remember how life had ever felt without him.

     My feelings for him were warm, like I was always about to drift to sleep in the sunshine. We grew incredibly protective over each other, both of us having to convince the other to not make impulsive trips when one was sad.

     Anytime either of us found something interesting, we would spend the next week or two both learning about it. Blowing phone's up with fun facts and side topics that we'd come across.

     We weren't just friends. There wasn't any denying that.

     But we never talked about what we were, there was simply an understanding. Natural, simple, that was how it always felt with him.

I didn't hear back from Yoongi for almost a year and a half.

It was midday, on a Tuesday.

I had just gotten out of my last class for the day.

Yoongi called me.

"Uh, hey." his voice sounded strange, excitement helping to keep something else pushed back.

"Hey, it's been so-"

"Hey it's me, do you remember me?" Lacey's voice giggled through the speaker and my spine went rigid.

I had to keep moving, taking loops around school buildings and letting myself get lost. I told Lacey I did remember her and she squealed before saying to Yoongi, "You see? I'm very memorable.". The sound of a kiss squelched into my ear and I gritted my teeth.

Why they hell were they calling me?

"So yeah, uh, anyways, we just found a place near you. Most of the guys will come with us, Jin has to sort out some work stuff before he can join though. So uh, we'll be there in early November. See you then?". He sounded uncertain.

I was turning a corner as he said it and misjudged the distance, smacking a shoulder into concrete.

"Did you just hit something?" the concern in his voice pissed me off.

I felt stubborn for no reason.

"No.", I scoffed, "But I'm excited to see you all again. Thanks for letting me know.". Coldness felt like a necessary strategy. Especially with Lacey on the phone with us.

I didn't feel cold though, I felt like disintegrating.

They were getting a place together.

They were moving here.

[sangyeonsmuse]

BREAK THE WALLS | Kim Hongjoong

Finale Chapter

🀥 Government agent Hongjoong x Rebel Oc

🀥 genre | dystopian society, halazia x geurilla concept , enemies to lovers

🀥 word count | 1.5k

🀥 Summary | An organization by the name of Sector 1 was well known for their work in the underground, theyve been well known for the recruiting of teens and using them to form an army since the year 2034. Collecting strays for their rebellion against those in higher power. Now the year is 2064 and the organization still runs strong they run like a family, with the new technology theyve found ways of keeping alive those that have been scorned in any past battles theyve had against the government.

When the government sends in 7 of their best men to infiltrate the organization. What will they do when their cover is blown and their true intentions are revealed? Will they join the rebellion or will they continue to let the government pull their strings like the little puppets they once were?

Skylar district May october 23rd 2064

4 months had passed since the success of the rebellion but their work still hadn't been done. Now that the city knew about Sector 1 they would come to them for all their needs and the organization was more than happy to provide. The last four months had been pretty busy, with them reconstructing the city and now building another Sector hq in the city square to keep them all more in touch with the residents of the city. They had gotten so caught up in the things going on outside of hq that for a long while Yeosang barely even had any time to work out the situation with the microbots and assure they'd be okay to use.

"Hey mom, dad it's Tahani...I haven't exactly been the best of daughter now have I." Tahani sniffles as she stares at her parents' tombstones that were both decorated in wilted flowers.

"I know I haven't visited you since that day but I think I'm ready now. To talk about it all. For the longest time after I lost you two I blamed myself. For running away and joining the organization without so much as a goodbye to you guys or the others. For a while I kept telling myself it was all on me, all because I decided to jump into something without thinking I lost all of you. But I think I'm past that now. I realize that I can't keep blaming myself because there was no way I could have known. I was simply doing what I felt was right, doing what's best for my family. And because of that I met some of the most amazing people." She laughed through the tears as she thought about all those she had met lost along the way.

"I've met one of the most amazing men I've ever come across and I get to call him mine. Ive met the best of friends...amazing people who I look too as a family, though they can never replace any of you. And yeah, it still upsets me that i can't exactly live the life i thought i'd be living if we succeeded with the mission, but because of the rebellion every day this city gets better and better. I just wish you were here to see it." Removing the wilted flowers from each of her family's tombstones she replaced them with fresh ones before taking one last glance at each of them. Upon making her way back to hq she decided to take her time. She wanted to take in the new city for the first time. See all that they had rebuilt together. With Eden gone her home truly was a giant ball of starlight. Noticing that a few rain clouds came rolling in Tahani sighs before rushing off into the city in order to beat the rain

——

"Are you sure it works Yeosang, maybe we should hold off longer if something goes wrong." Hongjoong paced the floor of the living quarters as they waited for Tahani to return.

"Hongjoong i've literally tested on Yeonjun and Dino and it worked fine, just relax."

"He's right cruella, both operations went by smoothly just to calm down and leave it to us." Eris adds on as she takes a seat right next to Yeosang on the arm of his chair.

"How long will you call him that?" San asks before laughing and the girl just shrugs her shoulders.

"How long will he have that hair?" She asks, earning a sly grin from Yeosang who stealthily brought his arm around the girl's waist.

"Behave." Was all he needed to say for the girl to finally go silent

"Wait wait wait did I miss something here." Mingi eyes the two, a surprised look on his face.

"Mind your business Song Mingi." Was all Eris said before her words were repeated by none other than Yeosang

"Right, mind your business Song Mingi."

"I liked those two better when they were in the lab all the time." Mingi huffs, crossing his arms over his chest

"I'm back." Tahani enters the room moments later earning multiple greetings from her friends and a kiss from hongjoong.

"Ready for your checkup?" Eris sprung up from the couch followed by yeosang.

"Yup im ready to go doc." She responds in a cheerful tone before bidding the others a goodbye and giving hingjoong one more kiss before following the two of them out the door.

As always Yeosang and Eris connected all of the necessary wires and tubes to her body before carrying out their usual checkup scheme.

The only difference this time was Tahani was now going to get a much needed surgery that she knew nothing about.

"Yeosang can you look at this?" And their act finally began.

"What is it?" He asks as he makes his way over to the screen. Seeing how intently Yeosang looked at the screen, Tahani grew nervous.

"Uh something wrong?" She asks anxiously at her question both Yeosang and Eris share a look before looking back at Tahani.

"There's some type of flaw in your system, it may take a full reboot to get rid of it otherwise if it gets any worse it can cause some of your joints to lock up, if that happens this body will become just as useless as your old one would have been." Eris spoke seriously.

"Well if all it'll take is a reboot just get it done, I don't wanna risk whatever the flaw is getting any worse than it already is." At that both Yeosang and Eris low fived one another beneath the equipment table before making any moves.

"Alright it may take a couple of hours but it'll simply feel like you're just resting, taking a nap you know." After sedating her and putting her lower half in sleep mode Yeosang and Eris waited until they knew the girl was fully unconscious to start their work. It had taken hours for the microbots to fully regenerate the lost cells over her cyber mechanic exterior but by the time it had fully covered her outer shell the girl was still fast asleep due to the sidation. Eris and Yeosang decided it was best to let her rest.

Once again just as it had happened all those years ago Tahanis eyes fluttered open only to land on a ceiling of the Sector 1 infirmary. This time yet another thing was different about her body. As she pushed herself out of the bed still somewhat groggy from the previous sedation she stopped dead in her tracks once her eyes caught sight of a mirror out the corner of her eye. She was naked...and not like naked with her mechanical parts showing but actually naked. As her eyes took in the visual before her it felt like a dream. She hadn't seen herself this way in two years. The tears began to fall so effortlessly, and as she ran her fingers over her full flesh body she was surprised to feel her own touch. She could feel the warmth of her hands as they brushed against her small frame. Pulling the first thing she could find over her previously exposed body Tahani ended up walking out of the infirmary with a bed sheet wrapped around her from the chest on down. She quickly made her way down the halls, past the airlock, up the stairs and into the brand new hq building. Pushing past her very confused colleagues she sped up towards the building's staircase and ran all the way up to the building's rooftop.

Rain, she could feel the rain. As the cold droplets pelted her skin she stood staring out at the city allowing the sheet to soak up every drop of rain along with her tears. As the rooftop door slammed open Tahanis eyes shot over to Hongjoong who seemed somewhat startled by the girls appearance.

"Have you lost your damn mind running around in just this? I nearly choked Joshua to death when Leedo told me he'd been staring at you running through HQ in nothing but a damn sheet." Hongjoong nagged as he pulled one of his shirts over the girl's head, allowing her to drop the now soaked bed sheet.

She stares up at him with wandering eyes, feeling true happiness for the first time in such a long time.

"Umm...so I guess you saw, you can now go back to how things were before the ambush, I mean I know it may not be all you wanted because you still can't exactly have children but at least now you can." Cutting him off mid sentence she pulls him in by his shirt and kisses him before bringing her arms around his neck. His arms hooked around her waist and Tahani swore she couldn't have thought of a moment more perfect. She could feel it all, the cold rain trickling down their faces as they kissed, the warmth of his shirt and his body pressed against her bare skin. The way his arms around her waist caused the fabric to brush across her skin, she could finally feel it all.

"Its perfect, this is perfect." She smiles as they pull away from one another, still hugging him close to her body as her eyes scanned over their city and the setting sun.

(To those that made it this far please leave a comment so i know who to give all my love to. Thank you for going on this journey with ateez. I wrote this story so long ago and freely like it was time for me to finally post it to tumblr, and maybe start working on book 2)

[whatevenisexisting]

The fact that there are people who want to have Epilepsy and read tips on it will never not disgust me. Like seriously. Y’all are fucking ignorant, ableist, and your identity is NOT in good faith.

Why? Because as someone who actually has epilepsy, it DOES hurt for me to see some people on tumblr want this damn condition. As I’m struggling to get through a work week, as I’m finally realizing I need accommodations, as I’m feeling frustrated because I haven’t had a seizure since April 19th, and I already had two this month.

Remember y’all, when you have a seizure, out goes your ability to drive for at least a few months. Put yourself in a small town with no public transit, rely on family to get literally ANYWHERE - and then tell me you’re “transepileptic”.

I wasn’t planning to ever drive again, but that decision DOES affect my life and let’s say I chose to drive once it was legal. Well, in my state I would have been able to drive by July but BAM. There it goes again.

Have a seizure, and you cannot drive. Now you have to find other ways to get EVERYWHERE you can’t walk to. And if it’s pouring like it is for me today? Yeah, your choice is either walk in the rain and get soaked, take an Uber for a ride that’s only 5-10 minutes and easy walking distance, or stay home.

Not everyone can rely on family or friends every single time they need to go somewhere, remember that.

And I know I’m focusing on this part but it’s just ONE aspect.

I mentioned I had a rough week at work and I did. Have fun dealing with post-seizure depression and just overall triggered depression as you work for a suicide hotline. Have fun not being able to tell 99% of your coworkers WHY you are struggling so much this week because you can’t even the say the name of your condition (and as a side note, your mom hates this and doesn’t understand - she thinks it just means you’re ashamed even though you aren’t), so yeah, they respect that and it’s your right but it would be easier to talk to them if they KNEW. But you don��t, because you barely accept your condition to begin with. (The five stages of grief? Yeah, apply them here and put yourself permanently in between denial and acceptance, also anger and depression, and have a jolly good time.)

Oh don’t forget needing time off work! Because if you’re lucky like me, you’re going to be exhausted the next day and will need to sleep all day! Which means using a sick day, and in America most people are LUCKY to get two weeks. My friend’s partner gets five days. Total. Of paid time off and sick COMBINED. So yeah, have a blast balancing what little sick time you get with needing to care for your body because sometimes you cannot recover quickly for them! You likely don’t know that tonic clonic used to be called grand mal (don’t worry most people without epilepsy don’t know this and you know you don’t have epilepsy soooo) but with grand mal, you might end up in the hospital because you can injure yourself! Any seizure that involves convulsions puts you at risk of physical (even mental, if you hit your head and get a concussion) injury, but I’m sure you haven’t thought of that part, have you?

Or maybe you have and you still want a condition that severely impacts people’s lives and can kill them, in which case you’re just ableist lmao, and insist that me being against people outright SAYING they’re faking a disorder is somehow transphobic or I’m “using the same talking points” as people against the trans community. Like stop stop STOP.

You know what the difference here is? Trans people didn’t choose to be trans, they can’t always come out of the closet because it’s NOT SAFE which surprise, might have a significant impact on their mental health. They don’t have a choice but to be closeted. Staying closeted STILL comes with consequences though. Coming out of the closet might come with consequences. There’s a reason trans people have such a high suicide rate.

As for the “talking points”…that’s just stupid because you people KNOW and SAY you don’t have this condition. You give each other “tips” for doing these symbols, or should I say FAKING the symptoms.

Me talking about the REALITIES of living with a disability is a desperate attempt to get you to stop romanticizing them. Me talking about the TRUTH of living with something like in my case epilepsy, is a desperate attempt to make you realize it’s NOT something you want.

I’M the one who didn’t have a goddamn choice for this condition. JUST LIKE trans people don’t have a choice to be trans and cis people don’t have a choice to be cis.

YOU fucking DO have this choice. YOU have the choice to get off Tumblr, out of this horrible echo chamber and ask yourself why the fuck you’re ASKING for TIPS FOR HAVING A SEIZURE.

Like for real, get off this hellsite and THINK about what you’re absorbing. This. Is. Not. Healthy.

And no, I don’t give a shit if you’re ~also disabled and okay with this~ because it’s not okay lmao. Like these are not good faith identities. Period. These people romanticize serious conditions, play into the idea that people with disabilities are faking theirs (especially if they suddenly become able to do things - “oh, jessy can do that, why can’t you?” Disabled people hear that enough already), and simply ignore the reality.

Ugh. I’m only writing this because Tumblr is a blog and a safe space to write, my therapist is sick today and can’t do a session with me, and I woke up still pretty sad and frustrated and then I thought of “transabled” people and decided to rant. Going to keep this public for now, might make it private later.

[madsworld15]

Part 5 of still unnamed Asexual Spectrum AU (QAF)

The next day, Justin wore his best pair of jeans and a light blue button-down with his dark navy cable knit over it. This sweater was one of the few things he had left from his parents. It was Brooks Brothers. The only reason he knew that was because his mother made sure he knew it when she gifted it to him for Christmas his senior year. Justin knew the sweater probably made him seem pretentious, considering the event, but it was the only nice sweater he currently owned, and he wanted to look his best.

Justin had no expectations of selling any of his art. None of it was particularly spectacular or even meaningful to anyone outside of himself. Except maybe the one of Brian, but Lindsay was the only one who truly cared about it, and she wasn’t able to afford the price tag. She had told him as much yesterday when he had returned to the center with Emmett. Justin had already decided that if it didn’t sell today, he would gift the drawing to her. If anyone deserved to have it, it was her.

He was nervously standing in front of his section of the exhibit when he looked up and saw his mother enter the center. He hadn’t seen her in months. Not since the day his father handed him $2000 and told him that if he insisted on continuing with his disgusting lifestyle, he could leave. So, Justin had packed up a few of his things and left. That day, his mother hugged him and told him she loved him and that she would talk to his father. Nothing came of that, and so Justin and Mrs. Taylor hadn’t spoken since August. Five months of complete silence from the one person Justin had thought he could always count on.

“Mom?!” Justin accepted her hug, shock still evident on his face.

“Oh, my sweet boy!” His mother’s lavender scent permeated every cell in Justin’s body as they continued to embrace. “Daphne told me your art was going to be featured. I had to come and see.”

“Why haven’t you called me back? I tried calling you a couple times these last few months.” Justin asked, vulnerably barely above a whisper.

“Justin.” His mom’s voice held so much unsaid emotion, and he knew the response that was coming. “Your dad. He is adamant about his decision.”

“Then what are you doing here? How’d you explain it to him?” Justin steeled himself against the tears that threatened to fall.

“He’s in Aspen for the weekend. He says it's for work, but I know it’s not.” She looked away from Justin and toward the art on the wall behind him. “Oh, Justin! This is beautiful.” 

She stood before the sketch he had made of Molly at her dance recital. There was a sadness to her that Justin had never seen before. His mom had always been strong, stoic, and proud. But the woman before him was fragile and cracked. He knew that he was to blame for that. If he’d just stayed in the closet, his father wouldn’t have made her choose between her husband and her son.

“Yeah, I drew this right after her recital back in July. The last thing we did together as a family.” Justin stepped forward and silently forgave his mom for the sacrifices she had to make. “I miss her.”

“She misses you too.” Mrs. Taylor turned to her son and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “She asks me at least once a week when your father is going to let you come home.”

“I’m sorry. I caused everyone so much pain. That was never my intention.” Justin started to apologize but stopped when his mom moved her hand to his chest.

“We’re getting a divorce.” 

“What?” Justin shook his head slightly, trying to make sense of the news. “I can’t let you leave him because I messed up.”

“Oh, honey. I’m not leaving him because you messed up. He did. Your father was wrong to cut you off from us completely. I’m just sorry it took me this long to see it.” His mom pulled him into another hug. Justin could feel the tears escape before he had the chance to swipe them away.

They were still hugging when Brian walked over. Justin wasn’t even aware that he’d even come. But there he was in all his glory. It was the first time they were face to face since the night they kissed, right before Christmas. And here he was, crying. Justin pulled out of his mom’s embrace and quickly wiped his cheeks to divulge them of any tear tracks. 

He cleared his throat, “H-hello, Brian. Shocked to see you here.”

Brian gave his signature smirk and tucked his tongue into his cheek before he responded. “I heard that a local artist had drawn the likes of me. So, naturally, I had to come check it out.”

“Of course.” Justin tucked his lips between his teeth and softly chuckled.

Mrs. Taylor cleared her throat and gave Justin a pointed look. He took a deep breath in and then exhaled before he turned to Brian.

“Mom, this is Brian. Brian, this is my mom.”

“How do you know my son?” Justin’s mom asked as Brian shook her hand.

“He works at the diner. We all eat there from time to time. You get to know one another. It’s a small community.” He gave her his most charming smile, but when he looked over her shoulder to Justin, his look changed. There was something charged about the way his gaze bore into Justin’s eyes.

“Yeah. Brian works for a local ad agency. His best friend’s mom is my boss.” Justin let out the breath he’d been holding and added a bit more context.

“Like I said, small community,” Brian whispered and then ducked his head.

“So, Justin. Tell me about these other pieces.” Justin turned his attention away from Brian, who was now studying the sketch of himself, and back to his mom.

“This one here is called The Graveyard Shift. It’s of the diner where I work. My boss typically picks up that shift because no one else wants it. That’s here, there.” Justin pointed to the drawing positioned to the right of the one of Molly. 

“I had no idea you were working at a diner.” Mrs. Taylor whispered, her tone dripping with awe for the talent her son displayed in his art. “I figured you had to be working somewhere. I just never expected it to be a diner.”

“I needed to join the gay community here. For myself.” Justin took his mom’s hands in his and looked her in the eyes, begging her to understand.

“Of course.” Mrs. Taylor removed her hands from Justin’s only to wrap one of her arms around his shoulder and took in the next two drawings, his still lifes. “I’m so proud of you.”

Justin just smiled and didn’t say a word. Brian was still standing there staring at the drawing of himself and Gus, but Justin didn’t care if the man heard every word. It was important to him that his mom had shown up. At first, he was ready to murder Daphne, but now that they’d had a chance to talk, Justin could see she loved him. There was still so much they needed to talk through and work out if she ever wanted to be as big a part of Justin’s life as she used to be, but her showing up today was huge. She knew it, Justin knew it, and from the subtle smile on Brian’s face, he knew it as well.

“Justin!” He was pulled out of his thoughts by the breathless exclamation of his mom, who had just reached the drawing of Brian. Justin smiled to himself, knowing that she loved it as much as he did.

“I drew that a few weeks ago, right before Christmas.” Justin tried to nonchalantly shrug it off as no big deal. 

But then Brian did something unexpected. He wrapped himself around Justin from behind and muttered against his ear, but loud enough that Justin’s mom could hear, “You got every detail correct. All the way down to the expression on Gus’ face when he eats.”

“Is this you?” Mrs. Taylor addressed Brian. 

He didn’t let go of Justin, but his face pulled back a bit in order to respond. “Your son drew me and my son.”

“This truly is a work of art.” Mrs. Taylor turned back to stare at the drawing once more. 

Brian pulled Justin away from his mom and over to a corner of the room where barely anyone else stood. Justin wasn’t sure what Brian’s intentions were, and Justin didn’t know if he’d be able to stop him if the older man decided to kiss him again, especially not with what Brian was wearing. The man was dressed in a form-fitting black sweater and a pair of nice but tight slacks.

“Why do you look as though you are going to shit yourself?” Brian finally asked once they were alone. “I’ve been watching you since I arrived, and you’ve only become more distressed the more time passes.”

“What?” Justin was expecting any number of things to come out of Brian’s mouth, but concern for him was not one of them.

“Did I use any particularly hard-to-understand words?” Brian teased.

“You’ve been watching me?” Justin’s voice came out in a squeak.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you say it like that, I sound insane.”

“Well, I’m not the one watching people.”

“No, you’re just the one crying and looking distressed. Is it your mom?” Brian put a hand on Justin’s shoulder and looked him over critically. “Because I know how to handle crappy moms.”

“My mom is fine. We just…” Justin sighed, his throat closing up and tears forming in his eyes once more. “FUCK.”

Brian didn’t say anything or remove his hand from Justin’s shoulder. He just let the blonde process whatever emotions he needed to process in order to get the words out. Justin was grateful for that.

“In August, my dad kicked me out of the house with nothing but a small bag of clothes and things and a couple grand in cash. My mom tried to stop him, but he told her she had to choose.” Justin licked his lips, “She chose him. Until now. Now, she said she’s divorcing him and that she’s sorry.”

“Do you believe her?” Brian’s voice was calm, quiet, and gentle. Something Justin was still getting used to hearing from him.

“I want to.” The ‘but’ Justin wants to say remains unsaid.

“But her initial reaction and choice hurt you.” Brian finished his thought correctly.

“Yeah.”

Brian moved his hand to cup Justin’s cheek. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Justin’s lips. “You have to do what brings you happiness. Who cares what anyone else thinks.” 

Their foreheads connected as Justin closed his eyes and tried to get his racing heart under control.

“I meant what I said a few weeks ago. I should be running away, but all I want to do is get closer to you.”

Justin took a few deep breaths before he responded. “And I meant what I said. I may never want sex.”

Justin pulled away from Brian entirely and headed over to chat with Debbie and Lindsay, who were by the drink station. He needed to clear his head. Being around Brian was never good for the logical side of his brain, which he needed for this event. 

“Hey, Sunshine!” Debbie greeted him with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s a very nice lady.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty great.” Justin shrugged his shoulders; he couldn’t hide anything from Debbie, so he decided that he didn’t even want to try.

“Justin,” Just then, his mom was there. Before he turned around to face her, Justin plastered a fake smile on his face. 

“I have to go pick up Molly from a playdate, but I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. Your art means something.” She wrapped him in a hug.

“Thanks, Mom,” Justin replied, letting her hug him tightly. He never wanted the safety and security he felt in her arms to go away, but as soon as they pulled apart, it did. To be replaced by the uncertainty her presence now brought.

After she was gone, Justin turned back to Debbie and Lindsay, who stood there in sympathetic silence. Then, he was wrapped up in Debbie’s arms once more. This time when the tears fell from his eyes, he let them.

“She came. That’s a big deal. Forget that she hasn’t spoken to you in months. She was here today, of all days, to support you. Remember that. She loves you.” Debbie whispered sagely.

Justin spent the next hour walking around and mingling with the other artists on display. He learned that the GLC offered free art courses in a studio from time to time, but that for more advanced artists, the time in class was better spent working on something else. Justin made a note to look into attending these free courses once school was on break for the summer. He had almost managed to make it through the rest of the show without another interaction with Brian when the man cornered him. 

It was ten minutes to the end, and Justin was back to standing near his art. Brian sidled up next to him with his signature mischievous smile on his lips.

“You know, I heard a tired old queen telling his friend that your art lacks a certain sex appeal.” Brian gently nudged Justin’s shoulder with his own.

“Did you now.” Justin smiled. The two stood side-by-side, not even making eye contact.

“Yes, but clearly, they hadn’t seen the drawing of me because I ooze sex appeal. Even in charcoal.”

Justin shook his head and laughed. “Never lose your self-entitlement.”

“Are you finally admitting you find me charming?” 

Justin didn’t respond. He didn’t have to because a moment later, Brian continued.

“Never lose your artistic eye. You see the world differently than most people. You always manage to find the nugget of goodness inside everyone.”

“It’s something that could get you any job you want once you graduate. Even in the art department at Ryder.” Brian finished, and then he was gone. 

Later, when Justin was taking down his art display, he was informed that someone bought his drawings of Molly and Brian. He couldn’t be sure who bought the one of Molly, but he’d bet big money that Brian was now the proud owner of his sketch of him and Gus.

[skzhocomments]

THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 12 - The White Lily

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story or on the general taglist!

---

Chapter 12 - The White Lily

chapter word count: 1.7k words

~4 months later~

~9 months before Present Day~

~Emilia's POV~

After that day a few months ago, it was like Hyo completely turned. Not only she became friendly to me, but she would also ask me to go out often, she would want to spend time together by teaching me how to cook, she wanted to go to more missions together, and she was actually making an effort to be an active part of my life.

I started feeling guilty for treating her so badly the first few months I was here, and I could barely remember why I was acting that way.

"See? I told you she was a nice girl." Chan said almost proudly, caressing my hair.

The night found me and him once again embraced naked under his sheets, my head resting on his chest.

"How do you like having a good friend for once?"

"What, is she the only friend I have? I also have Jeongin!" I joked.

"You seem closer to her than anyone else lately, though!"

"Even you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Naur. It would hurt me right here if you were closer to someone else!" he put his free hand next to my head, mimicking a heartache.

"I mean... we do spend a lot of time together, but it's not like I trust her with my life or even like her."

"You say that, but I know that deep down you enjoy her company."

"Pfft, fine, you win, I was a bitch for nothing." I chuckled.

"You both were, but I'm glad to finally see you getting along." Chan kissed my forehead.

"I never asked, but why do you care about her so much? I think I heard you call her your little sister at one point..."

"Hmm... Yes, it's my nickname for her. That's because... she reminds me of my little sister, I guess?" he chuckled. "She was actually my little sister's best friend back in the day, she's one of the few that stood by my side when all's gone to shit, and I know for a fact that she has Stray Kids' best interests in mind no matter what."

"Hmmm... I see. That makes sense."

"They were literally inseparable, and Dad was soo mad because of it." Chan chuckled again, sparkle in his eyes mentioning his late family.

"How so?"

"Hyo's mother was actually one of the maids at our old house, so Hyo was supposed to be a maid initially, when she would grow up. However, being only a bit older than my sis, they kinda grew up together. Had all these common interests and such. Eventually, Dad allowed her to train with us, so she can learn how to protect my sis."

"Yea? So how was she like? Your sister, I mean."

"Disobedient." He laughed. "She could light up every room, no matter what. Her and my mom had that special talent."

"I'm sure you miss them a lot." I smiled softly.

Hearing Chan open up in front of me again had to be one of the best feelings in the world. He didn't do so often, but when he was in the mood to talk, when he allowed himself to be vulnerable, he would grab my whole attention instantly.

He made me want to give this feeling inside my chest a name.

"Mhm, I do. But you know what?" he chuckled.

"What?"

"I'm no longer that lonely anymore."

"Hmmmm, is that so?" I teased.

"For real."

"You know... I could really get used to this. Just staying like this with you... having a peaceful life..."

"What would you do if you weren't in a Mafia?" Chan asked, curiosity audible in his tone.

"Hmm... if I weren't in a Mafia? Maybe live somewhere warm, own a flower shop, only tranquil days..."

"I can see myself retiring a few years from now. We can run away somewhere in Sicily, have a couple kids..."

"Kids?!" I chuckled.

"Yea, I always thought I'd want some of my own." He smiled.

"You'd make a great dad."

"And you'd make a great mom."

"You're just saying that to be nice!" I laughed. "You know I'm super awkward around children."

"Yea, I saw when we went to the orphanage the other day." He said and started laughing, earning a playful slap on the chest. "But don't worry, it's different when they're yours."

"You really think so?"

"Mhm. Plus, we'd be doing it all together."

"Hmmm." I hummed. "I like the sound of that."

"I'll teach you how to be less awkward!"

"Aaaand there you go, ruining it!" I joked and pinched his side, making him squirm.

"You're only mad cause it's true!"

"I'm not mad!" I stood up and grabbed a pillow, hitting his head. "Take this! This is mad!"

He managed to grab the pillow from my hands and to get above me, pinning me down.

"It's 3 AM again" he said, lowering his face and pressing our lips together.

"Mhm, we should sleep. Big day tomorrow." I embraced him.

"I can't believe 4 months already went by so quickly."

"Me neither. How much money do you think we'll make selling those weapons?"

"Hmm" Chan was lost in thought. "At least... 50 million?"

"Wait, what?!" I asked, surprised. This was way more than I expected.

"Yea, big batch. We also invested a ton into this, so it's only natural we'd make 10 times as much."

"You already have buyers?"

"Our usual customers and a couple more. Hyo and Momo worked their asses off to make this happen."

"Shit, we'll be rich."

"We are already, but yea, we'll definitely be richer." He laughed. "Let's sleep!" he exclaimed, getting off me and going back to his side of the bed.

"I don't think I'm tired enough." I chuckled.

"Want me to sing you a song?"

"Hmm, a lullaby, why not?" I closed my eyes and smiled gently.

Chan started humming softly, and I could feel myself slowly drifting off to sleep.

~

"It's great to just be able to stay like this with you." Jeongin smiled clinking our tea cups together and taking a sip.

"Yea, it's good to have the house to ourselves." I smiled.

Everyone else went to get the shipment and meet clients to start selling immediately.

"So, remind me again, why were you punished to stay home?" he laughed.

"I wasn't punished! Good God-"

"Just joking! It's so much better that you're home anyway. I get to spend some quality time with you."

"Feels like a lifetime ago we went to the Overpass, huh?" I smiled, reminiscing about that day. It's only been a few months, but it does feel like a lifetime ago. So many things changed.

"It does! Where the hell have you been, loca?" he asked with a big grin.

"Please don't quote Twilight right now." I started laughing.

"No but for real, I missed spending time with you like this..."

"I missed you too, Innie." I smiled shily. "Besides, it's pretty hard to not meet my best friend and vent."

"Thought you had a new best friend now." He winked and gave me a nudge with his elbow.

"No way! You'll always be my number one."

"My number one, what's there to vent about? Thought life was going great."

"... yea, it's going great..." I smiled, shaking my head.

"So what's been bothering you?"

"I just feel weird... all this tranquillity... it strangely feels like the calm before the storm, you know what I mean?"

That was true. Even though the past few months were uneventful, no matter how hard I tried to force myself to go to Hyunjin's greenhouse and paint something over the black canvas, I just... couldn't.

"Emi, you're always worrying. Give yourself a chance to be happy for once, please."

"It's just... wrong... I don't know why I feel like this or how to describe it."

"Because you keep thinking you don't deserve happiness. But you do! You deserve everything good in this world!" he spoke passionately.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I'm saying this because I mean it. Stop overthinking things!" he gave my forehead a flick.

"Ouch! Don't look at me like that or I might fall in love with you." I joked, watching as Jeongin was growing shy.

"Don't joke like that, my God!" he whined, laughing.

"Why, do you like me?" I asked, bringing my face closer to his.

We stared in each other's eyes for a bit, until he averted his gaze and changed the subject, coughing slightly.

Hm?

"So, what should we do today?

"Oh, I know!" I slapped my knees. "Let's grab a bite and watch a movie! You pick."

"Twilight!" Jeongin exclaimed excitedly.

"Nooooo!" both of us laughed happily. "Something else!"

"Do you have a favourite genre?"

"Yes! Noir! Or... drama?"

"Pfft. Why did I even ask? I think we'll see Twilight after all."

"You've seen it how many times now?!"

The rest of the day went by quickly, Jeongin's presence radiating warmth and peace.

~

~Third person POV~

Alone under the soft moonlight, Emilia was nervously fidgeting a small golden key with her fingers.

"Huh." she sighed deeply. "Come on, Emilia. You can do this."

The quiet encouragements proved themselves useful as she finally twisted the key in the lock.

Her steps became sure and heavy; with the same resolution she uncovered the black canvas of her soul.

"You can do this." She repeated.

"It's time to let everything go. You won't be betrayed again." She whispered lowly to herself as she grabbed her choice of colors: white, green, and brown.

With each stroke of her brush, she would inaudibly whisper another encouragement.

"You can love." White specks started decorating the canvas.

"You can start over." She traced green lines behind the white spots.

"You can be loved." Changing the brush, she added small dots on top of the white.

"And you can trust, for you'll never be alone again." She focused on the last details. God knows how many hours she spent there, pouring out her soul.

"You are no longer a Rose, Emilia." She told herself sternly, writing the name of her work of art in the left corner.

"Rebirth." She breathed in. "Yes... This shall be... my rebirth."

She placed her brush down and took a glance at the canvas, smiling genuinely.

A white lily stood proudly on top of what was once a dark abyss, its majesty drawing her in. The morning's shy sunrays caressed the petals, indicating her that it was time to go to sleep.

"Perhaps I will have a pleasant dream." Emilia smiled, locking the greenhouse and lazily making her way back to the house through the beautiful garden, sublime at this morning hour.

---

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

[sirenofsecrets]

Psychic Experiences: When In Doubt, Call In Your Guides

This is a long-winded story about psychic intuition, a reminder that your body knows before you do, and to ask for help from your guides when you need it.

I went through a period of time last year where everything was confusing and I---an intuitive person, typically---was disconnected from my energetic body more than I ever would have liked. It happened over the course of months of confusion and turmoil, and I didn't trust myself. My boyfriend and I had split up for several months, and we didn't talk for a portion of that time. We eventually found our way back to each other after realizing that we both truly wanted to be together and make things work.

Once rejoining each other's lives, I learned of a female friend of his that he met during that time (I was used to him having female friends in the past), and since we hadn't been together in awhile, I asked him if they truly were just friends and if anything had happened between them. He assured me that nothing had. I met her one day at the beach, it was fine, she had heard of me. I asked again about a month later, the question coming to my mind. He once again said nothing had. I asked once or twice across a few months.

But I could NOT get her out of my head. Every time her name was brought up (she was brought to my social orbit) I felt sick. I didn't know why I didn't like her. Maybe I was jealous of her? We both do the same outdoor sports, afterall. But I am not a jealous or envious person---it's just not in my nature when I know that all of us have such unique things to offer the world.

It was tearing me apart. I felt this heavy cloud lingering over me. It got to the point where I was nearly obsessing over it, and she was barely in my life, if at all. She wasn't really in my boyfriend's life either, they just ran into each other occasionally. I was being eaten alive.

One morning, I prayed to my spirit guides. I told them how I was feeling. I said that I needed help, and that I didn't know what was happening to me but I needed help. I could feel their presence, I could feel them listening.

A few days later, I was laying in bed with my boyfriend next to me, and I started crying because it had become so much weight. I couldn't do it anymore And then I had this epiphany: what if it's not me? what if the energy was coming from somewhere else? what if it was coming from her?

I launched out of bed and straight to my tarot cards. The golden light of truth was already creeping through my heart and I already knew I was right, but I had gaslit myself for so long into believing that *I* was responsible for all of these horrible thoughts and feelings about her. They confirmed that she was, in fact, in love with my boyfriend, and that she was angry with me because I was with him. I called my mother and I asked her to do an energy scan on me, and she confirmed that there was a girl who was very angry and jealous throwing knives at my back. My mom described her physical appearance (which I knew since I had met her before), and made a bunch of connections for me. I went back to my boyfriend and asked if there was any chance that she could have had feelings for him at any time. He said "I could see it" and left it at that. I tried to ask questions, but it was hard to get more information out of him.

I felt this huge weight lifted off of my shoulders, but there were still missing pieces. My intuition was beaming, and I could sift through the feelings myself and uncover her energetic presence on me directly from the source of my own energetic body.

But I was still not feeling good. I felt physically sick when she called him (no emotional feelings whatsoever, like I said, I'm not a jealous person), and there was still something about her that was off. I asked my boyfriend about it over and over. He was there for me, but not in the way he usually was. He had been going through a depressive episode before all of this began (he has unipolar depressive) and it still was continuing through this, so I chalked it up to that.

I met her again at my friends house. We made eye contact, and there was so much behind her eyes. I can't really describe it, but there was a world back there. She didn't miss a beat and reminded me "We met at the beach several months ago). Every time she talked to my boyfriend she would look at me---I noticed and my friends did too. My boyfriend told me after that she wouldn't stop staring at me. I knew I was right and that she still had feelings for him. In the days following, my body was screaming. My energy would not calm down.

I knew the truth. I had tried to ask my boyfriend, but I knew he was lying to me. My energy was telling me so. I had a conversation with my spirit guides as I was coming back from a long drive, where I told them that I couldn't do this anymore. I said that I needed clarity, that I didn't know what was going on anymore, and I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I could feel their presence and love, and I could feel them listening to me.

Later that day, I ended up straight-up confronting him. I told him: "I know you're lying to me. I know there is something you're not telling me." He finally came clean. He said that they had made out a few times back when he and I were not together. He said that after, she confessed her feelings for him, and wanted to be more than friends. He said that he didn't see her that way, that he was still in love with me and that he might have a chance in the future and he didn't want to jeopardize it. He did not cheat on me, he made it clear that he never saw her more than anything but a friend, and he was depressed and sad when everything happened, but it still hurt---she was in his life, and it was under false pretenses.

I was devastated to have been lied to so many times, to not have the truth in the 3-dimensional when I could feel it in every other dimension, and it was so hard. But I was not alone. I had my guides, and later that night, they held me in the shower. I could see their hands outstretched to me in my third eye, and I could feel them comforting me so deeply.

I know that they answered my first prayer and gave me the epiphany. I know they helped lead me back to my intuitive body after not trusting it for so long, even though it was speaking to me from the first moments I learned of her existence. I know that they've been talking to me, helping me, and comforting me.

I wanted to share because I want to document my psychic experiences, and I also want to re-emphasize to myself and anyone else that our bodies KNOW. Sometimes it's hard to sift between anxiety and psychic thoughts, especially when the truth is your worst fear, but ask your guides. They will light the way. You are not alone.

[busghost]

I posted 1,299 times in 2022

198 posts created (15%)

1,101 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cloud-ya

@flyingfudgenuggets

@caydencrypted

@valliass

@snow-n-cream

I tagged 1,195 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#honkai impact - 1,082 posts

#raiden mei - 149 posts

#kiana kaslana - 138 posts

#fu hua - 120 posts

#herrscher of the void - 76 posts

#senti - 61 posts

#murata himeko - 57 posts

#bronya zaychik - 48 posts

#bianka ataegina - 48 posts

#hi3 lore - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#and i feel bad cause new players don't get all the events that were so fun and really made the 6 st. freya characters feel like a family

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Pardo in lore: I cannot fight, I am weak like a small baby

Pardo in gameplay: I have replaced half the elemental supports in Memorial Arena

231 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#4

Happy Pride Month to Honkai Impact

Kiana and Mei

Bronya and Seele

See the full post

248 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#3

I dislike that the recent reveal has led to some people calling Kiana K-423, so they can call Bianka Kiana instead. They both already have names you know?

252 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

#2

do we know what honkai beast each flamechaser has in them?

Not every single one but for quite a few!

Kevin has genes from the Emperor-class Honkai beast Parvati, the boss in MA and the Honkai beast Theresa killed when she was only 1 year old. Parvati has ice powers thus all the red/black ice Kevin uses and the -30°C body temperature.

See the full post

257 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know about those? I have so many questions...would you be willing to expand on that chart?

The post in question, in case anyone missed it.

I'll just go down the list and start explaining every one I know in a sentence or two.

Welcome everyone to busghost explains the joke.

The first box is pretty self explanatory. Lobby 1 belongs in hell though. I once saw somebody say "use my tongue as your toilet paper" and that's the quality of statements said in Lobby 1 NA.

The Second Box begins getting a little more interesting.

Brilliant Light Fu Hua: there's a scene in the bunny girl video where Senti temporarily takes over Hua's body and feels up her own ass.

Dvalin: has a cameo in chapter 17 when Otto looks across the multiverse.

I dunno daily accounts, maybe it means playing every day.

LE/HoT/HoF Armada support: You always set your friend support as one of them because they give MASSIVE starting sp to people, unconditionally in LE's case.

Theres'a creation: This is just the Theresa Chronicle. She's a clone of Kallen with genes from the Honkai beast Vishnu. Otto was trying one of his many schemes to get Kallen back.

Genshin Appropriation: Genshiners™ only care about Honkai for the bare minimum it can provide them with Genshin Theories, don't actually know/care about the story, and treat it like a stupid little side game to the Holy Relic that is Genshin. "DAE HIMEKO IS DILUC'S MOM???" "OMG DILUC IS A COOLER HIMEKO" You've probably heard these phrases before.

Idk what the Otto homophobia is, probably people who think that Otto wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with Kallen and ignored the fact that she's gay. That opinion kinda misses out on all the nuance of Otto and Kallen's relationship.

Kiana flies herself to the Moon: I mean, she does. Characters do it a few times actually. Also Fly Me 2 the Moon was Mihoyo's first game and it's main character is Kiana.

The Day You Vanished with the Stars: The event that has broken everyone's hearts by making you watch the Captain try to save Kongming over and over and endlessly failing. A really good event, most people's favorite in the Captainverse.

"She will never forget the promise to go to the beach with her friend": Bronya promised to take Seele to the sea but then Seele got quantized and trapped in the Sea of Quanta. Very sad, won't be fulfilled for years.

The Third Box

A-303: Theresa is clone serial number A-310. Otto made her fight A-303 but Theresa refused to kill her. A-303 grows up to become Amber. (idk why she grows up and Teri doesn't, or why Amber is a cyborg)

Fu Hua's taxes: this a great meme from tumblr where somebody asked how/if Fu Hua would pay taxes all the way at Mt. Taixuan. https://busghost.tumblr.com/post/665322989875806208/well-the-answer-is-simple-does-fu-hua-legally

APHO Project Bunny: Project Bunny 19C has retired in APHO so Bronya gets a new gun from Theresa and she names it Project Bunny 0019

Schicksal is the Catholic Curch: I mean that's exactly what it says. The leader is an Archbishop, the Valkyries used to dress like nuns. There are crosses everywhere and Kallen mentions that they're supposed to follow the "Good Book" a name for the Bible. They also talk about "holy" this and that and there are churches everywhere. This makes it VERY funny that Schicksal's cover story in the modern day is as a religious charity/ idol company that calls their idols Valkyries.

Unfinished stories is to general for me say anything about, I'm certain there are unfinished/abandoned plots in Honkai.

Lesbian Jesus: After Kallen dies people start regarding her as the Holy Maid who died for our sins to save everyone... Sound similar to certain Christian religious figure?

Joachim Nokianvertanen: The name Welt Yang was given by his parents. He adopted the Name Welt after taking up the responsibilities of being the Herrscher of Reason. Yang is his mother's maiden name.

Honkai Tumblr: You are here.

Fetus Mobius: not 100% sure but Mobius spoke her first words minutes after being born, so that's pretty funny. The question is also posed that if Mobius died enough times will she revert all the way back to a fetus?

Adam x Mei/Bronya shippers exist: self explanitory and gross! they really did go "unlesbians your gays". Also Adam is a minor.

Durandal's Age: the origins of Bianka are known now but before the only thing we knew about Bianka's age was that Jan 1st, 2000 was a placeholder since she had no memories. This led to plenty of people calling Rita a pedophile for being in a relationship with, even though Bianka is clearly not 16-17. It's over now, We know how old she is, 19 nearly 20.

Fourth Box

Kiana B: Bianka is the original Kiana. Rearrange the letters in Bianka and it spells Kiana B. The other Kiana...

See the full post

262 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[seitmai]

Once again, read more it is

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

🥰🥰🥰

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future." His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

They are just perfect for each other 🥰🥹

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Carole and Goose 🥹😭

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

Hes really going through it 🥺

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He really needed to hear this!! 🫶🏻

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

😌🤤😮‍💨

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

I know he 100% means it lol

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

Hahaha I just love Nat

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

Don't do my girl Penny dirty like that! I have a feeling that if you ask nicely and Penny likes you she has a few nice bottles of wine for her favorite guests 😌

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand. Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT BOB WAS RIGHT ABOUT!!

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

Nat was right as always, he truly is a mess 😅

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

Oh and he is not coy about it 🤭

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

That man is desperate, release

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

...but she loves it 🤭

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?" "So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

He's down so bad 🤭🥰

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email.

He's probably already checking out dates in the calendar for the proposal and possible wedding 🤭😅

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking." "I'm not."

NOOOOOO

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was certain Maverick didn't intend to stress him out when he said you and he were the spitting image of Goose and Carole. But suddenly, for better or for worse, it was all he could think about. There is so much to look forward to with you in his life, but now he has to break the worst kind of news to you.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley couldn't seem to stop grinning. Playing the part of tour guide for your class was a pleasure. The kids made fun of Jake, which was honestly lovely, and everyone got to experience different aspects of aviation, not just flying. You even made Cyclone smile, so you'd done the impossible there. Bradley had a grin on his face for the rest of the afternoon, and Nat kept ribbing him about it.

"Are the two of you going to get married and have eighteen kids?" she asked, feigning innocence like nobody else could.

"I know you're joking," he replied as he cleaned up and organized all of the noise canceling headphones. "You know how I know? Because you know how much money I make. I could never afford eighteen kids. It's gotta be like fifteen, tops."

"You never ever even joked about having a child before!" she said, tone accusatory.

Talking about you and thinking about you made him feel calm where no relationship he'd had in the past ever really did. "Come on, Nat. You know I'm serious about this one." 

She laughed in response. "Being in love for once instead of just settling for someone to keep you company looks good on you. It's about time you stopped fucking up." He planted his hand on top of her head, scrunched his fingers, and messed up her hair. "Stop it!" she screeched as he ran away across the tarmac as fast as he could and into the hangar where he found Marty.

Bradley peeked around to make sure she hadn't followed him as he made a beeline toward the mechanic. "Hey, I can't thank you enough for today," he told Marty, shaking his calloused hand.

"It was fun," he replied. "Some of those kids are future aviators, I'm telling you."

"Violet," they both said at the same time and started laughing.

"And Oliver is a bit of a daredevil," Bradley added as he helped Marty pack up his work station. "They've been learning about aviation for months, and I know today meant a lot to them."

Marty looked a little pensive before he nodded at Bradley. "You know what," he said in response as he locked his toolbox, "go ahead and tell your girlfriend that I'll be there for her career day as long as I'm not deployed."

Bradley cocked his head. "Career day. Right. I'll let her know." 

He had no idea what Marty was talking about, but it was just about time for him to head out for the day. By the time he got home from work, you'd probably be on your way back down from Mira Mesa. His thoughts were circling around Maverick's words from earlier. If he was reminded of Goose and Carole when he looked at Bradley with you, then no wonder this felt like the real deal. It must be just that.

But he was in his head now. He was desperate to keep you, because he knew all too well what loneliness felt like, but he couldn't stand the thought of you worrying about him. And the idea of anything happening to him while he was away from you was too much to handle. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to his Bronco. Being compared to his parents felt like a blessing and a curse.

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

The evenings were getting chilly this time of year, but you changed into the dress you wore on your first date with Bradley as soon as you got home. Then you quickly packed an overnight bag. Driving to work from his house tomorrow would be a true test. Nothing was going to be a complete deal breaker for you at this point, but you hoped it didn't leave you in tears of frustration. Or have Bradley trying to scramble to find a way to try to make you happy when you already were.

Your plan for the evening was to pick up some Thai food from the place he loved on your way to his house. When you texted Bradley to let him know you were leaving your place soon and that you hoped he was hungry, he wrote back one sentence.

All I want is you.

Every time you thought it would be impossible for him to continue to set off the butterflies in your tummy, he did it again. Your face felt warm, and you ran your palm along your cheek as you thought about every little detail of the field trip while you drove. He didn't just love you, he appreciated your job and your students. Your ex didn't even let you talk about them. Bradley let them rank the cafeteria foods at the Naval base. He got Marty to give a demonstration. He got permission for them to sit in his jet and assist with air traffic control!

You moaned as you wove through traffic to get there. All I want is you. Well fuck, all you wanted was him. Your feelings outweighed the amount of time you'd known him, but you couldn't seem to make yourself pump the brakes now. When you stopped to pick up dinner, you thought back to your first date with Bradley. It wasn't very long ago, but it felt like so much had happened since then. It felt like even more had happened since he responded to your first letter. In such a short amount of time, you had fallen in love.

Your skin was tingling with anticipation as you parked in front of his house. Hadn't you been with him just a few hours ago? Why did you feel the need to run for the front door with the Thai food? Why did your heart skip a beat when Bradley opened the door in his sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and met you on the front porch before you even had a chance to knock?

"Gorgeous," he breathed against your cheek, holding you close as you tried not to squish the bag containing dinner. Then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a tee, and tugged it over your head. His mustache tickled your skin as he leaned in and whispered, "You look too good in my sweatshirt. You look like you're mine."

Your belly swooped as you promised, "I absolutely am."

"Fuck."

You laughed as you handed the bag to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Give me a minute to kiss you the way I wanted to earlier, and then we're having a picnic dinner."

Bradley started to respond with one eyebrow raised, but you didn't let him get a word out as your lips met his. He deepened the kiss immediately, and you sighed; this was how you always wanted him. You appreciated that he held back earlier, but right now, you wanted him all to yourself.

"Thank you for today," you murmured between kisses as his hand slid lower along your back. "You're the hero of Mira Mesa Elementary, and I wanted to treat you to dinner on behalf of my class."

His cheeks were a little rosy as he pulled away a bit more. "You don't have to thank me for anything. You know that. I'm happy to do anything you want."

"Stop," you whispered, burying your face against his neck. "A girl can only handle so much. Let's go eat dinner down on the beach, and maybe there will be an additional little something special for you."

You were tugging on his arm, fingers gripping his thick bicep, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm in sweats and a tee shirt. Should I change?"

"Why?" you asked, still tugging. "You look hot."

His blush deepened. "But you're wearing your dress and my sweatshirt. And I was kind of interested in snuggling on the couch."

"Let's go," you repeated, and he took a few steps toward your car with the bag of food in his hand. "We can come back and snuggle on the couch later."

While he agreed, he didn't seem to want to let you go. His hand was on yours while you drove the few blocks to the beach, and he wrapped his arm around you as you pulled an oversized beach towel out of your trunk along with a blanket. 

"Baby, it'll get chilly as soon as the sun sets."

"I'll keep you warm," you promised, running your fingers along his bare arm before taking his hand. He was quiet as the two of you walked down from the parking lot to the sand, and when you looked up at him as the warm, orange light illuminated his face as the sun sank low in the sky, he seemed contemplative. "What's wrong?" you asked, heart skipping a beat as you stopped in front of him so he was looking at you.

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

But even as the two of you ate dinner together, he pulled you snug next to his side like he was afraid you were going to go somewhere. You took a bite of the Pad Thai and then said, "I wish I thought to bring some Prosecco," but you only got a little grunt in response. "Bradley," you snapped, reaching for his chin and turning his head gently so he was facing you. "You weren't like this earlier during the field trip. You're acting strange. Do you want me to go home?"

"No," he replied with wide eyes, wrapping one big hand around your thigh and kissing your forehead. "I don't want you to go anywhere without me." With a sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I just... got in my own head about us."

"Us?" you asked immediately, scrambling to try to figure out what you could have possibly done wrong. The whole day was perfect, and now you felt yourself trying to pull away from his grasp.

"No," he insisted once more as the air grew cooler. The sky was more dark blue than orange now, and Bradley was silent for a beat before he said, "Maverick... Captain Mitchell... you met him earlier..." When you nodded, he kissed your forehead and said, "He was my dad's friend. They flew together. Maverick knew him well."

Your boyfriend's parents had been gone for a long time. "Oh," you gasped. If you'd known that earlier, you'd have taken more time to get to know Captain Mitchell.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future."

His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Everything he said was too dreamy. When you tried to take a deep breath, it hitched in your throat. "I don't understand what the problem is, Bradley. I feel the same way about you."

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

A smile found your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Is this why you're being weird and clingy at the same time?"

When he looked at you he laughed. "I guess. I'm sorry."

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He pulled you down on top of him, dinner forgotten, and kissed you with one heavy hand still on the back of your thigh. "As long as you've accepted the risks, Gorgeous." His fingers slid up a few inches as he added, "Today was incredibly fun for me, and I'm happy your kids had a good time. I'm already looking forward to visiting your school again if you want me there."

"Oh," you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his scars. "That reminds me. Career day is coming up in a few months. You'll definitely need to be there for that."

Bradley grunted and gave you a little smack on your rear end that made you gasp in delight. "See, you're telling me about this now, but I already heard about career day from Marty."

Your fingers on his bicep tightened as you tried not to moan. "I just got excited earlier," you whispered. "I promise I was going to tell you."

"Hmm... so Marty and the other aviators are more interesting than I am. I understand, Gorgeous."

His voice was teasing, and he seemed a lot more at ease now as that big hand gripped and grabbed at you under the blanket. When you shifted slightly, you could feel him through his gray sweatpants. He was a little eager, but so were you now. His occasional need to hear you reaffirm your feelings for him was something you'd always be happy to indulge.

"Will you let me prove to you that you're the most interesting? My very favorite Naval officer?"

"What do you have in mind?"

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

The first few stars were glittering to life in the sky as the horizon continued to darken from orange to purple to blue. Bradley lounged back on the oversized beach towel with one arm tucked behind his head and enjoyed the sight. It was beautiful. So was the sound of you softly gagging on his cock.

"God damn," he muttered, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feel of your mouth slowly gliding along his shaft until he was deep once again. The air was cool on his overheated skin, and the breeze was probably enough to keep anyone else from visiting this secluded stretch of beach while you treated him to your lips and tongue.

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

Your voice was light as air when you released him and playfully asked, "Do you believe you're my favorite?"

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

"You're my favorite," you said before kissing his tip and sinking those pretty lips around him once again. Your grip was firm as you sucked, and it wasn't long before Bradley was grunting and trying not to grab you too tight with his fingers. 

You were giving him head on the beach, and it was so damn hot, but you were still his sweet girlfriend. He just wanted to make you happy, and when he came, you moaned in delight until he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Then your lips were on his, and he could taste both of you there. "You're my favorite," you repeated, reaching down to carefully pull his sweatpants up while he head spun.

He groaned and wrapped his arm around your waist. "If this was your ploy to get me to agree to career day, it definitely worked. But you know I would have said yes no matter what."

Your lips were on his ear as you laughed. "Can we go home and get warmed up in the shower?"

Home. You belonged there with him. He knew it. You knew it too, even if only subconsciously. "Yeah, let's go home."

On Friday, he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you were awake in time to get to work. He packed you a lunch, grimaced when he checked the traffic on his phone and said, "I'll pay for your gas."

"I don't need you to pay for my gas, Bradley!" you insisted.

One look at your pretty face had him shaking his head. "Traffic is a nightmare. What's it going to take to get you to come back here again tonight?" he asked, handing you a mug of coffee. "Because I honestly don't mind paying a little extra in gas money to make up for the fact that I bought a house in Coronado."

You bit your lip and then asked, "How do you not understand that being with you is going to be worth the drive?"

"Save your verdict for after you've actually driven through rush hour."

He was delighted when you returned right after work for the weekend. And Saturday morning, you slept in while Bradley went for a run with Nat. He kissed you goodbye and watched you roll over onto his pillow with a soft smile on your lips. Six miles in and he was getting antsy to get back to make you breakfast.

"Are you two coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked, huffing as she tried to speak and run at the same time.

He grunted in response. You hadn't been to the Hard Deck yet, and he wasn't sure he felt like sharing you with everyone else this evening. "Maybe."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

"I'll ask how she feels about it."

But he should have known you'd want to go as soon as he mentioned it to you in the shower after breakfast. "I didn't bring anything cute to wear," you complained with a little pout.

"Baby, you could wear one of my ratty old shirts with your jeans, and you'd be the cutest thing in the place."

A smile curved along your lips, and that's exactly what you ended up wearing. Your snug jeans only looked sexier on you when paired with one of his soft tee shirts from his college days, which you tied in a little knot at the hem. He could see a peek of your skin here and there as you finished getting ready that evening, and he couldn't keep his hands off you. When the two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to have to keep you close by.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

But you were oblivious as you looked around the interior of the bar as you caught a few more gazes. He didn't love these horny guys all checking you out like the piece of fresh meat you really were. "How about a beer then?" you asked, scanning everything that Penny had on tap and pointing to your favorite.

"Solid choice," he replied, ordering two from Jimmy. And then all too soon, you were the one pulling him toward the pool table and Natasha.

"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, setting down his empty bottle and tossing a dart repeatedly up into the air with his gaze glued on you. "What do we have here, Bradshaw?"

"This is my girlfriend," he replied immediately. "Don't get any ideas."

You cleared your throat, stuck out your hand, and told Jake your name. He reached for you with a smile and didn't let go. "You must be the teacher from the field trip the other day. I'm Jake. But if you'd prefer to use my call sign, it's Hungman. I mean Hangman. Looks like Baby on Board was right."

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand.

Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

Bradley started laughing at the sour look on Jake's face. After that, you had some very pleasant conversations with Javy, Mickey and Reuben, even though he could see their eyes dip down to your chest on occasion. It wasn't really their fault that you were beautiful, so he let it slide while he played pool with Nat. Eventually you joined in with him, and you insisted on buying the next two beers plus another drink for his best friend.

"I'll be right back," you told him, playfully backing away toward the bar with a smile, and Bradley watched you the entire time you were gone.

"You are a mess," Nat informed him as if he didn't already know that.

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

"You were never this up tight when you brought Vanessa here."

His ex's name always sounded startling now when it rattled around in his head. "She was mean," he said easily. "Nobody wanted to talk to her even though she was pretty." But Bradley honestly never did feel this way about her or anyone else before you. Watching you pay Jimmy with a smile on your face before turning and meeting his eyes was enough to send him walking halfway to meet you.

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

It wasn't long before you suggested calling it a night.

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

Bradley was deep inside you, one big hand pinning your wrists above your head on his pillow. His fingers were trailing down your skin as he fucked you a little harder, and you let him talk and ramble to his heart's content while he brought you closer to where you wanted to be.

"You're perfect," he crooned, hazy gaze focused on your face. "Tell me, Baby, please. I need to know." He kissed along your neck, tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat. "Please."

"What?" you gasped, barely able to talk at all as his fingers settled on your clit.

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

His lips settled on yours as you came for him, clenching around his cock until he spilled himself inside you. His kisses were rough before turning sweet, and soon he was softly teasing your lips as he muttered, "You gonna tell me?"

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

He froze again and met your eyes. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His hands were cupping your face while he stayed buried inside you. "Gorgeous, you just made my whole fucking day."

Within the hour, he had the date saved in his phone calendar, and you were on his lap on the couch eating popcorn. "We've got time, but I'll help you pack beforehand and move everything. Javy has a truck, so I'll make sure we can use that. You could always start moving some things before that if you wanted to."

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?"

"So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a grin of your own. You yawned, exhausted in the early hours of Sunday morning. "I need some sleep or else I'll be dead on my feet at work this week. You need to show me that you can be well behaved and let me rest even after I've moved in with you."

"On it," he replied, dumping the remainder of the popcorn into his mouth before scooping you up and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

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

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email. It was oddly enough from your school account.

Dear Lieutenant Bradshaw,

We just wanted to reach out and thank you again for taking us on a tour of North Island. Our lessons about aviation were brought to life. It was the educational opportunity of a lifetime, and we also had so much fun on the field trip. Our classroom door is always open anytime you want to visit.

Sincerely,

Your nineteen pen pals

Immediately after he finished reading, he noticed he had another email. From your personal account this time.

Did you know there are just thirty-five days until I move to Coronado?

Attached was a photo of you holding up three fingers and five fingers in front of your naked tits, and Bradley almost dropped his phone. He could see everything, just like you probably intended, but he had to close out of the image as Maverick approached him with a frown.

"We need to talk."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

The older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A call came in from Norfolk. Atlantic Fleet needs one more F/A-18 pilot for an assignment. Your name was mentioned."

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley's head was swimming with concern. He'd only been in the Pacific Fleet for a few years, and he wasn't looking to go back to Virginia. Not even temporarily, but certainly not permanently. You were only with him because he was based out of San Diego. You told him yourself how scared you had been when you thought you were falling for a man who lived on the other side of the country.

"My name was mentioned?" he muttered. "Who else was mentioned?"

Maverick shook his head. "Nobody. They want you. I'd start thinking about getting your duffle out of the closet this weekend. I'll get your more information as soon as I can."

Bradley had more questions than answers, but he let the other man walk away without another word. When he unlocked his phone and saw the perfect photo of you, his heart clenched. Having answers to his questions would only make it harder to tell you what was about to happen.

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

But they love each other! Reverting back to full-time pen pals mode? Will that even work? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[madeline-quinn]

— love me, hate me ☆

For some, 16 is the age to become a rebel. Yet for others, this is the age to put an end to being a fuck-up. Consider possibilities of a future, think of a job that'd sound nice on your resume.

It is quite hard to say whether I am in the middle of all that or nowhere at all.

It's been two years ever since I moved to New York.

Two years ever since I last smoked a cigarette behind my own house, lashes hanging low to hide the clear evidence of drugs in my sclera from my mom.

Two years ever since I last woke up in the middle of the street. All alone, not even my thoughts were present. Phone dropped somewhere down a sewer grate, probably giving rats seizures from the amount of calls incoming from my concerned friends.

Friends. Right, friends. Druggies. Concerned as shit they were, more like desperate to schedule another blackout before being sent off to rehab and ghosting me.

It used to feel weird.

When me and my mom would sit together at the breakfast table. She'd show me pictures of possible future vacations, try to disguise all that she was and all that she needed with a shaky smile. And I'd nod, yet barely conscious.

I can't believe it was real. Everything. New York has changed me for the better.

Two years ever since my parents got a divorce.

This summer, my father insists on seeing me for a period of time. Undecided amount, still. Or maybe my mom doesn't want to tell me. Maybe she doesn't want to believe it herself.

Whenever that topic gets brought up, I can sense her uncomfortableness. Anger peeks through her gaps, she doesn't think it's fair and fights the urge to tell everyone to fuck themselves. But according to whoever thinks it's acceptable to interfere with other families' business, a father deserves to see his daughter, despite how much of a fucked up asshole he is.

So, here I am. Sitting on a train. the view through the window gets more familiar with each song shuffling through my playlist.

Left with the moonlight, and the sky is getting dark again. I think it's been 22 hours.

Silence is all that's left between me and my father.

He's embarrassed of what he's become. Of the situation. Gulping down melancholy as he watches me redecorate an empty bedroom to my liking. The corner, which we used to measure my height on every few months, has been neglected for quite some time. Last measurement reaches up to my shoulders.

"You said you want a summer job?" he leans a bony shoulder against the doorframe, voice almost unrecognizable.

I did mention that, surprised his memories reaches this far.

Mostly because I knew I'd be bored. And I needed a distraction. Alcohol and weed sometimes not only have a psychological reaction, physical, too.

I don't want to be who I once was. I want my head clear.

I hum in agreement.

"Some family is looking for a babysitter. Says everyone's get their hands full."

Last time I was here, everyone was either a teen with at least two addictions, an adult with a terrible love life and no children, or a wrinkly old man wearing diapers and suffering from erectile dysfunction, kids already in foster homes if there were any to begin with.

It feels unusual to hear the word 'family.' Even weirder, to have them concerned about their kid.

"How much is the pay?"

"Like 5 bucks per hour."

I don't mind babysitting. Though the price could be better, it doesn't matter. It's a shitty neighbourhood anyway.

"Call them. I can start whenever."

Blue walls and an oak door. I count the flowers engraved on it to postpone my intention, listening to the drops of rain hit concrete behind me, my hands wrapped around a black, closed umbrella.

I've wanted to avoid this house as long as possible. I have dreamt of it in my nightmares even, fantasized of burning it down.

Spotless converse standing on the wooden porch, holding up my knees from buckling. So many memories made here, all of them I want gone from my mind.

I feel my breath hitch before I knock. Once the sound of doors creaking reaches my ears, I force up a smile.

And my entire world falls apart.

My brows furrow, only mentally, though, I think.

Carl Gallagher stands before me.

The glint in his eyes is very much different. It's like I'm looking at a completely different man. No more bruises, rags as clothes, an egoistical smirk holding back his words of stupidity. He's the one who looks down to interlock eyes, not me.

And when I hear my name coated with his deepened voice, I have to knock myself back into reality, "Maddie?"

"Holy shit. Carl."

Neither of us dare to speak, confused and embarrassed. My cheeks heat up, but I put a sigh on display and slightly roll my eyes. His business to decide whether it's from disappointment or anxiety.

Suddenly, I see Fiona creep up on him from behind. It's a relief to see her, truly.

"Oh my god, Maddie," she breathes out, excitedly, pushing Carl out of the way for an embrace. "You've changed so much."

I have, that's not a lie.

My dark acorn hair, which I used to always braid into two, is now silkier, slimmer, shorter. When my mom offered to pay for one of the most successful haircutter's around our area, she wasn't expecting me to come back with layers.

Dim and mysterious colors dominate my clothing palette, I'm more fond of light make up now. My posture is further prideful, I have grew out of a teenage dirt-bag and I consider myself now a self-collected woman with manners.

Delightfully, I hug her back, slight chuckles leave my lips as she drowns me in simple questions and gently rubs my shoulders. Small talk goes on, yet Carl hesitates to leave. I flash a confused facial expression at him, but he ignores it.

Her hands find their way to her hips. "So, you are the babysitter?"

"Surprisingly, I am," I sarcastically raise my brows and return a grin.

"Well, it's great that you're looking for a summer job, and we are so glad to have you back in town. But that, um, post was made by Frank. He was high on something and kept insisting that we are bad influence for Liam, or some shit like that. So, with unemployed Carl," she pokes his ribs with her elbow, "we don't really need one anymore."

That takes some weight off my chest. I didn't want to be here anyway.

And as I get ready to politely agree with her terms and start deciding between my two last possible opportunities of making money here: theft or giving hand jobs, Carl interferes.

"I won't be home today," he speaks, and Fiona looks at him in a puzzled manner.

"What? You said you were gonna watch Liam?"

"Plans changed. I've got to run some errands."

"Hey," she barks, gripping on his shoulder, "you better not be selling drugs around the corner again, right?"

He rolls his eyes the exact same way I previously did and nods, which leaves Fiona to a hopelessly hopeful sigh and a shrug. "Okay then, maybe Frank was on some fortune telling shit and it might be nice having a babysitter around. You still remember your way around the Gallagher house?"

I snicker. "Probably. I'll be fine."

"Though, about the payment—"

"Don't worry. We can discuss it when you're back. Friendly discounts," I flash a playful grin.

She thanks me and tells me to make myself at home.

And so I do.

The house looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering I haven't been in this building for the past few years just makes me want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds me of cinnamon. I'm not sure why, nor I really dwell on it too much.

I greet the rest of the Gallaghers with a smile, share a sip of beer with Frank at early dawn and I realize that it looks like I might be wanted more in the place I wish to burn down rather than my own home.

For as long as I remember, they have always liked me. Unlike many women who come and go through the front door, I'd stay. Despite being young, I always got along with everyone in the house. The perfect combination of childish and mature was the key.

As soon as everyone leaves and Lip finishes showing me around, throwing in a few gossips here and there to fill in the gaps of drama I've missed, I head back to the kitchen where I last saw Liam.

Red baggy shirt with white stripes and black shorts, he swings his feet on the chair next to the kitchen table. Once he notices my entrance, his big doe eyes light up. Simple as that, I smile.

"Maddie?" innocent voice just like I remember, I don't know whether he refers to me to ask for something, or is just confused who I am. He was still small the last time I saw him. And I'm a different person.

"What's up?" I soften my voice and bend over the table, unintentionally pouting as he asks me a few questions as to who I am, yet actually appears to show little to no interest. Maybe he's being polite. Seconds after, I get commanded to make him a bowl of cereal, what wouldn't I do for this guy?

I feel Carl's gaze linger on me.

Arms crossed, he shares a look, which I immediately dismiss with a frown.

"Weren't you going?" I glimpse at him, eyes shadowed down with annoyance as I pour the cereal into a yellow bowl. Just being in his presence makes me feel like there's an anvil pressing down on my heart.

"I was thinking, maybe we should talk."

Putting back the milk into the fridge, I freeze for a second and furrow my eyebrows. "Talk about what?"

He sighs, as if disappointed. It's really not my fault I have no idea what to do with him, or what to say.

"I don't know. About us."

A mocking scoff escapes my lips like a gunshot, "Carl Francis Gallagher cares about a relationship? About us? Shocking news."

I watch how Liam's shiny eyes widen at my rough remark as I'm placing the bowl of cereal in front of him. Poor boy.

"Maddie, listen—"

Walking past, I take my opportunity to claim my spot right in front of him. Face to face. The smell of sharp deodorant clouds up my nostrils, yet doesn't distract me from my line of thought.

"I'm listening." I shoot an eyebrow up.

Nervousness builds up in his chest, it's as though I can hear him try to gather and structure every word that he wants to say.

"We were kids, right? I don't know about you, but I for sure as shit didn't know what the fuck I was doing."

My lips break into a wide grin. "Oh! So that's an excuse now?"

"Yes? What else do you want me to say?"

Disappointing silence.

"Do you even want me here?" I lightly twitch my head to the side.

"Fuck, yes, Maddie, that's why—"

"So act like it," I say with the intention of demanding something useful. Demanding a fuller conversation, an explanation, or at least an apology. I might be overreacting. We were kids after all. But he meant a lot to me.

A lot.

I was so naive. And I still am. I realize that once my slim fingers are gripping onto the collar of his shirt, and my soft, glossed lips recall the memories of a summer we had two years ago.

He feels like a sigh of relief. A cold shower after a devilishly boiling hot day. A pleasure, a relaxation. And when he spins me around to pin my figure against the wall, I swear I see flickering stars in my vision. Those who only show up when your bloodstream is nothing but heroin or litres of alcohol.

I break the kiss with the purpose of going further. Head empty, thoughtless completely. He looks down at me through his lashes and it feels wrong to hold eye contact, because I seriously have no idea what has taken control of me.

I just miss him. That's all, and it'll be over soon.

"I've got a girlfriend," his rushed whisper is intertwined with guilt that is meant to sound emotionful, but it doesn't.

I hardly press my eyelids and flick them back, eyes open wide.

"A girlfriend?"

He nods, and I wipe his saliva from my lips along with some of my tinted gloss. It's a relief he told me. I wouldn't have gotten back to my sober, full of anger self if he hadn't. Hasn't been half an hour ever since I first saw him after two years of disappearance, and my lips were already heading towards his jawline.

Oh my god.

I let out all my tension and sexual frustration with a breathy sigh, holding onto my forehead as I break out of his captivating hold and turn back. "Go. Just go."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you would—"

"Go, for fuck's sake!" I yell.

"I wanted to talk, not bone you," he snaps at me. "Can you let me finish a sentence god damn it?"

Unpredictably, I storm out through the front door, and he dashes after me like a lost puppy.

"Maddie, Maddie wait!" I hear his voice shout from behind. "God, can you not be so difficult?"

Almost by the road, I turn my back around and face him once again. I have always been quite skilled at telling apart people's emotions, even if they're hard to read. Yet this time, I have to make an assumption myself, whether he's confused, angry, sad, thinks I'm a total freak, or all of the above.

For a split second, a sneaky and sharp grin peeks at my face, and I make a run towards his house. It takes a while for Carl, who's caught by surprise, to fully comprehend what the fuck am I doing. And by the time he gets his feet on the porch, I'm already locking the house from inside out.

"What the fuck?" he uses his fist to bang on the wood. Harshly.

"You've got some errands to run, yeah?"

"You can't lock me out of my own house! Open up the door!"

I laugh, forcefully loud enough for him to hear. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do, you fuckhead. Go on, your girlfriend's already waiting for you. I'm sure she'll love the boner your ex gave you!"

"Fuck you!"

I speed to the nearest window positioned on the same wall as the door, pulling up my middle finger as he returns the friendly gesture, slowly walking backwards.

I turn back to Liam, doubtful he's eaten a single spoon of cereal this entire time.

"Oh, how I've missed the Gallagher house," a sarcastically devilish grin shines on my lips as I walk past.

Barely minutes pass. I'm still breathing deep and shallow, trying to completely allow my brains to register what the fuck happened ever since I stepped foot first through the Gallagher house door.

A simple question flows through my mind: 'How did I never sign for therapy when I used to live here?'

And in just mere moments. I get my answer.

My quick fingers dial the number of one of my best friends.

"Oh shit, Maddie. What's up?" loyal and easy to depend on as always, I might have had bad luck in possibly everything, but not my friends. Actually, that might be an overestimation considering the situation with my stoner acquaintances, but I'm glad to admit I have found my platonic soulmates in this world full of insanity.

"Hey, Emily. Is Akira still alive? Like, is he not in the hospital yet?" I ask with nothing but seriousness.

She blows air into the microphone, snickering. "No, alive and well, probably. Why?"

"I don't really know how to say this, but I just got back to Chicago and I almost fucked Carl. Get yours and Akira's asses to the Gallagher house and mind your language. Or don't. Fuck knows how traumatized this kid is I'm supposed to be babysitting."

No response or confirmation, she hangs up. I hope that's a yes.

"No fucking way. No fucking way!" the blonde slams the kitchen table, nearly knocking over all our cups of coffee as I slowly bop my head.

"Shit," Akira raises his eyebrows and blows a cloud of smoke into our faces, it embarrasses me that I still have a reaction. Where's the immunity I took so long to build? Will I die in this neighbourhood?

"I don't fucking know what got into me. It's like the moment I saw him, someone injected ten doses of mushed up and liquified molly into me from behind. I was trying so hard to ignore him, then suddenly my chest stirred up with so much unreasonable anger and before I can barely blink we're getting all hot and heavy against the wall in front of Liam? Like, what type of freaky shit is that?"

I bury my face in my hands from pure embarrassment.

Akira snickers, running his pale hand through silky strands of raven hair. "Freaky as in horny freaky or psychopathic freaky?"

'Fucking both', I want to say, but instead I just brush him off with a hard blink and a distressed frown.

"Okay, but he was into it, right? Like, pinning you against the wall and stuff," Emily asks intrigued, arching one brow while smirking.

"That's the point! For a second, I thought we were on the same wavelength there. Then next moment, he pulls out the girlfriend shit. Like, damn, if my boyfriend was making out with other girls behind my back and poking them with a boner I'd be mad as hell."

"Maybe he isn't getting enough action in bed with her," Akira blinks with tired eyes before taking another puff.

"Right?" she agrees, almost enthusiastically, and the sudden silence fills me with the wrong ideas.

I slowly nod my head, "No, no, no, no. That is wrong and you guys are two shit-minded fuckers. I'm not doing that."

"It would benefit you both," he speaks, using one hand to rest his face and the other to hold up the cigarette. Fucking addict. Funnily enough, I'm overly disgusted by the smell as if I wasn't the one who got the poor guy into this whole mess of nicotine.

"What about the girlfriend, though? I'm not turning him into some shitty cheater."

"Oh, fuck the girlfriend," Emily rolls her eyes, "her fault for messing with a guy who can't sort his feelings out."

Not really how it works, but sure. My arrival was totally unexpected and uncalled for. Of course he had forgotten me, or at least wanted to. Everyone moves on. If he didn't, his desperation would be a turn off.

I groan in frustration. God. Moving back here was possibly the worst thing I've ever done.

"No, fuck this idea. I still kind of hate him, he is a dickhead and good lord, if I want to survive at least a week here, I need us to have a proper talk about what the fuck happened without me acting like I'm some bitch in heat," I sip my coffee.

Akira covers his face in his palm, giggling into his skin as if to make fun of me. "Jeez. I never thought there'd ever come a day where we would all be sitting around the Gallagher kitchen table, discussing your accidental, almost-to-happen sexual intercourse with Carl Gallagher."

"Neither did I!" I exclaim in despair.

"I have imagined something like this," Emily steps in the conversation, smiling and whirling around the spoon in her coffee. "Maybe not in this exact place, and maybe without the 'almost-to-happen' part. But you two were doomed from the start. Bound to have a fucked up relationship in some way or another."

"This isn't a relationship. And what we had before wasn't either," I angrily state, crossing my arms over each other.

"Forgot to add 'complicated'."

She shares a cigarette with Akira as they both snort chuckling at me. At my agony. I couldn't help but laugh too if I were them, yet now, all I can do is repeat in my head how big of an idiot I am.

I didn't get the opportunity to go out with a bang, so I'm coming back in with one surely.

It's time for some revolution for the Gallaghers.

A boiling hot bubble bath and a mocha-shade face mask lays comfortably on my moist skin. It'd be completely pitch dark in the bathroom if I didn't light up a few candles here and there, rewarding myself with a relaxingly dim lighting.

Liam is well, teeth brushed and tucked into bed. Knowing that I am home and I am someone to trust, the rest of the house members are allowing themselves to enjoy the summer night by being young and free.

Fiona is spending the night alone away from all the noise with some Irish guy, Lip is on a bowling night with friends and his new girlfriend who I don't remember the name of, Debbie left Franny at the house and is off clubbing with friends, Ian is fuck knows where, and Frank is Frank.

So it's just me, little Liam and Franny sleeping in their beds, and Carl shouting on the top of his lungs and trying to break in as the neighbours threaten to call the cops.

I hear his muffled threats through the tiny bathroom window.

"Shut the fuck up, Carl!" I scream every once in a while.

01:21AM. I wrap myself in a rosy pink robe and wrap my slim fingers around a steamy cup of tea I made for myself, no sugar and finally no disgusting flavors. Southside Chicago's local drugstores are famous for their alcohol, but the tea is always great. God, how boring I sound.

Refreshed and heart bursting with peace, I look through the big window of the living room. Silhouettes of objects outstand in the depths of the night shined on by the street lights. One of the objects being Carl, who has already lost his will and is sitting down, leaned against the wall, hopeless eyes following the cars that drive through. At least that's what I picture his face to be like, who knows, he might be passed out from all the screaming.

I teasingly knock on the window, he doesn't react.

Shit. Maybe he is unconscious.

Shit. I open the front doors and shuffle my slippers through the cold, wet grass, one hand holding my robe from revealing too much of my body fresh out the shower, and the other bent to carry my cup of tea.

"Carl?" I call out, approaching him. "Carl, you still there?"

I don't receive a response once again.

Until he immediately stands up and lightly uses his forearm to push me, spilling the boiling hot tea all over my robe. Roles switched, now I am the one screaming at the very top of my raw lungs. From the pain of my skin burning, and the wrathful anger. He dashes into the house and I already know the doors are locked, to which I sigh.

"Carl fucking Gallagher! You are the most insufferable little twat I have ever met! Open this god damn door right now or I will seriously kidnap Liam and send him off to the fucking turks, you dipshit!" I yell, and yell, and yell as I stomp onto the porch.

He's silent, but I know he's there.

"What? You're not even gonna say a word? What a god damn pussy! Thank god I didn't fuck you, or I would've caught the coward disease and made myself a fucking embarrassment to the society!" I use my fist to bang on the doors using full force.

"They're unlocked," he mutters, voice quiet yet rough, and a little frustrated as if he's pouting. I want to laugh at that image, but in this situation, I'm more of a fool than he is. And it becomes clear when I firmly press my palm down on the door handle, it opens with ease.

He stares me down with a judgemental nature, and I awkwardly stay quiet.

"Were you locked up in a psych ward or some shit?" he asks, not even sparing a glance.

I scoff. "No. I was away from this thug paradise. New York is great."

"Yeah?' his mouth curls into a smirk, not in an attractive way. The corner of his lip is too far up to be considered attractive, he just looks like a narcissist.

"Yeah," I aggressively nod my head, arms crossed over each other with dignity. Suddenly, the silence full of tension dies down once someone knocks on the doors from behind.

At midnight?

I frown and open them.

Holy shit.

"Maddie, I heard you were back in town," Chris speaks. Fucking Chris. Oh my god.

I had completely forgotten about his existence, and it makes me feel like a total bitch admitting that because he is my fucking boyfriend.

At least so, I think. The moment me and Carl separated, I had some sort of teenage psychosis, downed an entire bottle of vodka I stole from The Alibi and fucked around the town.

Not fucked around as in literally, still a virgin and proud.

Just found someone to mess with. And I don't even remember how.

I look at him as if I've just seen a ghost. What I notice first is a buzzcut. I always told him I liked his luscious, wavy chestnut hair, it complimented his features so well. Now he reminds me of a Russian, and he's got a dumbass tattoo that peeks through his sleeveless, woman-beater shirt. A ridiculous Chinese dragon. Why?

"Oh, heyyy, Chris. Wow, late, isn't it?" I hold my hands behind my back and force a smile. A very painful smile. The tea still burns.

He chuckles like a douchebag. "Couldn't stop thinking about you. Wanted to visit you from the second you came back, but couldn't, so much shit on my mind."

I don't really care.

But right now, I will.

"Sounds tough. I missed you," I soften my lying voice and sneak up a mischievous kiss on his lips. He smiles into it and kisses me back, gripping onto my waist.

"Missed you so fucking much too, baby," he moans into the kiss, gripping his rough hangs all over my waist that is still covered by the thick robe. God, I feel like I'm being sexually harassed. Seriously, I couldn't care less about this guy, if he hadn't showed up at like 2AM, I don't think I would recall him even in my death bed.

He had 2 years to learn and he's still an awful kisser.

I wipe my mouth dripping with the overuse of his filthy saliva, and when I turn back, Carl is no longer present.

Frigid water drips all over my naked skin.

The tip of my tongue is held tight between my teeth, quivering. I've never once in my life enjoyed an icy shower, so I try not to induce a heart attack and position my body in a certain way, so the shower head points only at the flushed burns from my tea.

Thankfully they aren't half as bad, considering the fact it was pretty chilly outside, and Fiona's thick robe worked as a shield against me, absorbing it all.

Still, I doubt I would've gotten a minute of sleep if I went drenched in tea, spots of skin uncomfortably stinging and overheating.

Through the loud sounds of the water running, I hear a zipper and drops of liquid splashing into water behind the shower curtain.

"Carl, what the fuck?" I shout, displeased more than ever.

"What?"

"Doesn't this house have two bathrooms? And an entire backyard? Despite that, this is the south, you can piss on the street for all you like!"

"I bought this house with my own money, let me piss in peace," it's clear by his tone that he's annoyed with me. Weak.

Well, that's new information. I'm not even going to question it,.

I sigh, loud enough for him to hear.

"Your boyfriend's here, huh? Didn't know you had one," I notice how his tone slightly deepens, a sarcastic smirk forming his way of words.

Neither did I.

"Right," I breathe out a chuckle. "He waited 2 whole years for me, isn't that so sweet?"

I know exactly what I'm doing, and he does too. I am just so full of spite tonight, it feels like the south side air is just naturally infected with drugs from all the usage.

"Especially his baldness. And the cartoonish Chinese dragon tattooed on his shoulder like a fucking toddler's drawing. Your type concerns me, Maddie."

A loud scoff barks out my throat. "Good. It should."

He flushes the toilet, and for fuck's sake, I swear I see the gates of heaven flash before me when the water suddenly changes by like 70 degrees and the previously burned parts on my body start boiling like crazy. I jump back, screaming, nearly slip and get a concussion.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I will murder you in your sleep, Carl!"

A few days pass fast. Faster than in New York, it barely feels like I've lived.

Weather's hot, everyone walks around drenched in sweat and smelling like a big fat group of pigs. But other than that, I don't really mind summer. It means throwing away all your covering clothing and walking around with low waisted, trashy shorts that barely hide your ass, a tiny tank top with no bra and cute shoes.

For those few days, I haven't really been doing anything but catching up with friends and babysitting Liam with Franny.

First day at the Gallagher house was like a nightmare, so much happened and so much ended so fast, I am now disciplining myself with the advice from Akira.

No eye contacts, no conversation, no feelings of any sort for Carl. I go there for the minimum amount of bucks per hour and water it all down on ice cream or drinks. That's it, that's all there is to my 'vacation.'

Sometimes my mom calls, sometimes she doesn't. And most of the time, I don't pick up.

No eye contacts. No conversations. No feelings of any sort. No eye contacts. No conversations. No feelings of any sort. No eye contacts no conversations. No feelings of any sort.

It's hard to listen to my own rules when the guy they're all revolved around keeps bringing his girlfriend into their house.

Kassidi, her name is. She's gorgeous, shit. And funny. and sweet, and adorably sassy in just the right way. Humiliation cuts down my spine each time they sit together at the kitchen table, almost dry humping each other with all the forbidden kisses and sweet nothings. And i'm just fighting against all my morals, washing the dishes with a sponge that has the whole damn eco system in it.

I feel his eyes burn on me, but I have to pretend like the plate is more interesting.

And when the right time comes, I call over Chris and stroke the shit out of him in the bathroom, screaming out his name as if I was the one getting fucked. I told him it was something like a fetish, he hasn't yet realized that I only do it out of spite. To prove that I have a love and sex life as good as Carl's. Which is false. If it wasn't, I wouldn't gag at the thought of that thing inside me.

"They've been at it for like an hour," Lip dryly says before taking a sip of beer, Ian hums in response as if to pretend he cares. "Where's Carl?"

"Probably out shattering cars from frustration."

The alcoholic snickers. "You think he's jealous?"

"Obviously, man. Crazy ex's back in town, it's driving both of them insane. If he doesn't break up with Kassidi soon enough Maddie's gonna hit her with her daddy's car at midnight."

Lip pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up, taking a deep puff that relieves him so good, his face tenses up and he arches back his head when blowing out the smoke. "Why's it always the ones whose names start with an M that are the most psychotic?"

"The M stands for madly obsessed," Ian replies slowly, gratefully pinching an offered cigarette from Lip in between his index and his middle finger.

This goes on for two weeks or so. Maybe three.

I enjoy my tasteful burger for dinner, sitting right next to a big window of my own house that perfectly reveals the dark town street. Overhead lights are on, some creepy bastards walk past and stare at me, but I don't really care. My father's gone off somewhere, he could be one of those perverts for all I know. It's not like I wasn't expecting this, it's quite nice to not have him at home. Could be one of the million things I've missed about New York.

I watch how a pitch black truck parks right next to our mailbox, in front of me, only glass and few inches of grass separating us.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

Next to the driver's seat sits Kassidi, I gaze at her sly smile and sharp eyes as if she's seconds away from setting off a bomb at my house. She looks flawless, and I look like a disaster.

Strands of brunette hair peek out. Fuck, of course Carl's behind the wheel.

They start kissing, and kissing evolves into groping, and in just a few seconds they're all over each other and climbing into the back seat. Kassidi whispers something in his ear and he nods, before I watch his head sink down in between her legs.

She's moaning, and gasping, and biting her lip and rolling her eyes back and wiping the sweat off her forehead and gripping tight on his hair. Her back arches against the seat and she twitches and god damn, I hope it's a drop of sweat that reflects the shine from the street lamps.

I cringe my face from disgust. How are they not embarrassed?

My hands open the window.

"Disgusting motherfuckers!" I yell before throwing my dinner right into the window as Kassidi climaxes. Jesus. I will see that face in my nightmares tonight.

I haven't attended the Gallagher house for some days now. Getting used to the peace is weirdly odd.

The disgusting feeling of envy always finds its way to haunt me, but without having those two procreating right in front of me, I feel much more at calm.

Fuck, no. It's not envy.

I don't feel the pressure to put a label on my feelings. Maybe all I am is uncomfortable, grossed out, that's normal.

I sit at the kitchen table. My father hasn't come home in a week or so. I don't know if I'm concerned or not, but I think I should be.

He's fighting hard to keep his parental rights, so surely he wouldn't go off and drink for days on a whim so easily. Something must've happened, I should look for him. Ask around, maybe. I'll consider.

When my phone rings, something thrills my heart. I pull it out of my pocket and read the words 'Emily', and the trail of slight disappointment that washes down my chest frustrates me.

I just might be the most pathetic person in all of Chicago.

"Hey, Em." I pick up. "What's up?"

"Hi. You home?"

"Yeah."

"The Gallaghers are throwing you a welcoming party tonight. It's late because of their money situation or whatever, doesn't matter. You're not babysitting today, right?"

I'm at a little loss of words. "Um, no."

"Great. Me and Akira are coming over. You have something to wear?"

"For the party? Well," I rest my face on my hand, "I'll just wear whatever."

"Girl, the fuck? You never wear whatever. By the way, Kassidi's going to be there," she sings in a cheeky tone. "Don't worry. I'll bring you something spicy. Be ready in 10."

She hangs up. Fuck.

Gallaghers, house party, unresolved feelings and tension all in one doesn't sound good. If it were a math equation, the answer would be "DRUGS."

Without my hands trembling from the usage of about everything that is guaranteed to result in an organ failure, it was much easier to draw a sleek and neat eyeliner along Akira's eyes. But who is Akira without looking like he's about to collapse? So I blend it out with dark eye shadow.

Emily always looks good in sparkly red. It goes well with her blonde hair, which is why when she gives me the option to choose between a scarlet shimmering tank top and a similar one, but in emerald, my pick is pretty obvious. I do her hair in a messily whorish bun, and when she insists on wearing a jacket, I remind her we are in fucking summer and Gallaghers can't afford air conditioning.

As for me, I let those two fools put me together an outfit; a black, tight tube top, a tight, leather skirt that is probably a size smaller than my usual, cute black boots and bunch of jewellery everywhere. When I step in front of the mirror, Akira hums and states my outfit looks boring. That's when the sparkly blueish silver belt in the shape of a star comes in, and fancy sunglasses. I think it's a bit silly to wear them in the middle of the night.

"You are such a fucking slut!" the blonde laughs at me whilst opening up a can of beer and gulping it down. "You want some?"

My pounds of bracelets jingle together when I wave my hands in front of her. "Oh, no, thanks. Trying to stay sober."

Akira snorts in the background, followed by Emily's loud scoff. "Good luck with that tonight."

Fuck. I'll need it.

Before we even stepped on the porch, the two idiots dragging me along were already all giggly and flushed from the cans of beer and a random bottle of vodka that Akira discovered in one of my kitchen cabins like some kind of police drug dog.

I don't think I've ever been the only sober person squeezed in between two drunks. Now I get why those people used to always complain.

"You guys made it, hi!" Fiona greets us with a smile when the raven head knocks on the doors. Wow, she's so fucking gorgeous. Not only might this be the party I relapse, but my coming out ceremony too?

When I step in, music's already blasting loud and rough. I see teens I've never met before, red plastic cups in everyone's hands and bodies rolling to the beat. Someone's sliding down the handrail, and I think I hear a girl throwing up already in the very distance.

My heart begins pounding with thrill, yet nervousness. I try to get used to my flashing and overwhelming surroundings fast, take everything easy. It annoys me to notice how my eyes are subconsciously looking for someone.

Pizza is being served in the kitchen. Surely looks much more delicious than the litres of alcohol around in every corner.

So does the fruit juice. Fuck, that's cape cod.

I see a girl laughing hysterically, tears running down her face as her knees tremble. My chest becomes envious of that feeling. Suddenly, I think of how confident I used to be, and how I'd put that confidence to good use tonight.

But it's been two years. I've learned a lot in those years, a lot of discipline and a brand new lifestyle.

Does it all even matter when I interlock my eyes with Carl's from across the room?

Shit. I need a shot.

A shot turns into a second of guilt. And when the guilt gets washed down with alcohol, it turns into two shots. And those two shots turn into whoring myself out on the table, hands running down my body as I grin and chortle, not even caring about how small the table truly is and how serious might an injury be.

A round of molly has already rolled in, I'm surfing through drawers for a straw.

I think my sunglasses are shattered somewhere on the ground, but I don't care enough to look as they've probably already drenched in liquor.

My brain struggles to figure out a smart way to get off the table once I finally finish my strip dancing session, so I messily jump on the couch right onto Akira's lap. He forces up a sarcastic gag, though it sounds completely natural and I try not to take it as an insult. But despite that, I still burst out cackling when he pushes me over and I just lay on my back, struggling to catch my breath.

I haven't seen this many shades of vibrant colors in my vision for years. New York's pretty plain in terms of color. And in terms of everything else.

Quickly, I get back on my feet and run around the house, screaming and giggling like a toddler.

"What the fuck is she on?" V concerningly screams to Fiona and Debbie who are sharing a cig, taking a break from all the consistent dancing.

"Everything, probably. She's making up for those 2 years," Debbie drunkenly smiles before taking a puff.

"Hangover's gonna hit her in the face like a bag of stones," Fiona raises her brows, clearly speaking from wild experience.

I accidentally stumble upon Kassidi obsessively grinding on Carl's lap, sitting on the stairs as if there isn't a set of rooms to choose from.

I wonder how this would affect me emotionally if I wasn't on the verge of passing out from all the drugs up my system. But it does affect me morally, so I turn around and my reddened eyes instantly start scanning the area for attractive men.

Lip, leaned his back against the back of the couch. Maybe he wouldn't stand out so much if it wasn't for that hot-ass black t-shirt, that just lays on his figure so attractively, marking his collarbones and pressing nicely against his waist. Holy shit, I am a devil.

I run up to him.

"Lip," I call out. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He raises his eyebrows, taken by surprise. "It's complicated. No, no, I guess. Why?"

I swear he had one when I had just moved in. I'll make sure to ask if he's okay next morning once we all sober up, but for this exact moment, those are not my intentions.

"Can I kiss you?"

"What?"

"Do you give me permission to kiss you?"

I hold a laugh back behind my lips at his confused face, eyebrows scrunched up together and back a little hutched forwards as if he heard me wrong. Oh, no you didn't, Gallagher.

"You're drunk. Maybe tomorrow if you're still up for the offer, yeah?" h

How cute. Unfortunately, I'm not looking for cute tonight.

"Fuck, no!" I grab him by the collar of his shirt, might be a signature thing of mine. "I want to kiss you now. I know what I want, Lip. Just a kiss, nothing more."

"Wait, wait, how old are—?"

Screw the unnecessary questions. I collide my lips with his as if in a hurry, going all animalistic when I bring my knee up to his thigh and tilt my head to deepen the feeling, as if it's there anyway. He's fucking hot and I would let him do me well in bed if he wanted, but I don't feel my heart bursting with joy having his lips against mine. And I know that it's not because of drugs or alcohol. I just know, because I tonight I felt more intimacy with distant eye contacts than I feel right now.

I take a step back. "Thanks."

A mischievously dirty wink goes to Carl.

On my way out from the crime scene, I notice Akira and Emily exiting to the backyard along with a crowd of other drunks, and surprisingly, Frank. Curiosity takes me over like madness previously did, so I follow them.

The lightly chilly breeze of fresh summer air sends goosebumps down my naked arms, but it's nothing bad. Especially not when music's blasting down from boomboxes and I can bring heat up to my body by giving it all with my dancing.

I sway my hips on Emily, then get passed over to my other emo best friend — Akira, and when he's finally had enough of looking straight, he passes me over to some strangers I dirty dance with.

One of them being a man with a beard wearing a Nirvana shirt. Suddenly, his face gradually blends into Carl's. Holy shit, am I hallucinating?

"What the fuck was that?" the uncanny valley hallucination of mine speaks, my gaze lingers on his lips and I swear they move slower than my ears can process his words.

"Carl, is that you?" I slow down my hips and take a good look at him.

"Yes, it is me, you molly addict. Are you seriously fucking my brother?"

I scoff into his face. I don't think it's a hallucination, it's crazy how I barely even noticed the men change. "I'm not fucking him, dipshit. Give me a break."

I turn around to lose my mind in the rhythm, but he spins me back by my shoulder. Like a car struggling to maintain its balance on the lane, I can't keep my eyes interlocked with his, so they wander off to the side. That's when I notice a trail of smoke coming from a cigarette in his hands, my thirst for nicotine peaks. Or it might be a different feeling.

"You are."

"No, I'm not!" I flinch back. "Do not touch me or I'm calling the cops on your braindead ass."

He sighs, frustrated, rolling his eyes as if he's being forced to deal with a devilish toddler. "You do know he's like 8 years older than you, right?"

"Oh my god, why do you care?" I whine, now frustrated as well with him. Yes, he might be the reason why I even attended. And yes I might be intrigued with his presence. But why's he being so shitty with all these questions?

"Fuck, Maddie," are the words I hear before my world turns upside down right before my dazed eyes. It's as if a magnetic force pulls him to me, sensation so electric and overwhelming with emotions. He warms my soft lips with his in the cold of the night, how passionate and gentle and addicting.

The kiss starts off tenderly, becoming urged and sloppily needy in just mere seconds. I draw my shaky hands around his neck to pull him impossibly near.

Pushing his body against mines, he blindly leads me against the wall of the house, so it'd be impossible to preserve us from the view of a window. I don't know what the fuck am I doing, and this feels like a moment where we should just stop and talk it out.

It'd feel right to clarify how I feel. But my euphoric heart says otherwise.

Our lips break apart, he softly pants against them. I can't see his face anymore in the darkness.

"What? Are you going to tell me you have a girlfriend now? Because I already know that," I lazily bring the corners of my mouth up, and the fresh sensation of relief tingles down my chest when he breathes out a gentle chuckle. I'm glad this remark didn't upset him, though it should have.

"No," he snickers. "But this feels wrong."

"Tell me about it. You were the one who initiated."

"You were tempting," he sneaks a soft nibble on my neck.

"Say that one more time and I will make you forget about Kassidi for the rest of the night," my words slow and seductive, I gently rub the tips of my nails through his hair, dreamily gazing into the spark in his cobalt eyes.

"You promise?" he whispers into yet another kiss. I crave him completely, I don't think I've ever craved anyone else as much.

I want to prove that to him. If this night is only going to be one in a lifetime, I want to make it last forever. A sneaky picture pops up in my thoughtless head, whispering into his ears a plan how to get to one of the bedrooms without anyone noticing us together, but it's only an image, as I can't physically detach. I need him right here, and right now.

My head and heart arguing, the line between them erases itself completely.

I blank out. Maybe it's my consciousness, maybe it's my brain playing tricks on me, but the next time I open my eyes through my eyelashes coated by heavy mascara, we're now both on the ground. Some clothes off, his back against the wall as my nails dig into his naked shoulders. The addictive smell of cigarette smoke fills my nose, I watch the flickering scarlet glow held between his fingers, 'cause that's easiest to focus on.

Fuck. I feel puke coming up.

Another blank. This time, I'm quite terrified to brighten my vision in the fear of having vomit all over his naked chest. But that doesn't happen, thankfully, I must've been quick to turn to the side, or maybe it didn't happen at all. Most guys find it a turnoff, yet his face looks like he's about to set off like a ticking bomb. Eyes lingering on me through heavy eyelids, eyebrows bend together and upwards, mouth slightly gape. Every once in a our gazes meet, I try to convince myself this is all a dream. It doesn't take much convincing. I don't feel real.

Drops of sweat running down my body. He talks me through it, but the blood pressure rings in my ears and I can't comprehend a voice he says.

Suddenly, the tight knot in my stomach frees and for this once, I want to believe I am in love. Fuck, no. If there ever was a minute of love intertwined with my feelings for him, it was a hallucination. Misconception. Lust, is all there is.

Weak, fragile, gasping for air all over him. He holds me steady in place, as I would've fallen over by now. "Fuck, did we use a condom?" I say in an urgent manner.

The silence kills me.

"No, seriously Carl, we didn't, did we?"

"No," he shakily breaths out, trying to regain himself.

"Oh my god. Oh my fucking god."

An unexpected tsunami of feelings rushes forwards him when I break down in tears.

Early sun lights of the dawn come upon us.

Just like a certain Gallagher did a few hours ago, which is why I'm sitting on the stairs of the porch, cigarette in hand in the hopes of the nicotine giving me a miscarriage before the fetus can even form.

I'm way too drunk— or hangover, or high, or all of the above, to go buy birth control. I'm not even sure if I can.

I think Carl is passed out right where I left him. Or maybe Fiona's bed. If I try hard enough, I can recall a few memory flashes of going up to the bedroom and continuing our forbidden mistake. But I can't tell whether that's a dream or not.

And when Emily comes down to sit next to me, I shiver a little.

"You okay, girl?" she concerningly asks, rubbing a warm hand on my naked shoulder.

Holding back my tongue out of stupidly wired fear, there's a moment of confidence when I decide to speak, "How old are you now?"

"20. Why?"

I share my cigarette with her.

"Can you buy me morning-after pills later today?" this is the first time this sentence has ever escaped my lips.

As a dear best friend of mine, she'd always do most of the favors I asked her of, which is why instinctively, she nods. Before the realization knocks in, and she has to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent a blood curling scream.

"You— holy shit. No way."

"Guess with who," I say disappointedly, lazily taking back my cigarette and inhaling a careless puff, almost dropping it straight out of my trembling hands. I think it's a genetic thing, for them to shake this much after product usage.

"Was the boyfriend guy at the party?"

I shake my head. God, this conversation makes me feel like the sluttiest hooker in town.

"Carl."

"Gallagher?" she doesn't cover her mouth this time, and I instantly shush her down. I pray to the lord he doesn't wake up, this conversation would probably make me spiral into a crisis. I hope I clear up my business before the hangover headache spikes him wide awake.

"Don't tell anyone, go piss out all the heroin and vodka out of your system so we can get this over with."

"Are you even ovulating?"

"Fuck if I know. I don't track my cycle. I should start probably if I'm gonna whore around every party like this."

For a moment, we both daze off into the dramatic ombré of the sky, consisting a variety of gorgeous shades orange, lightly teal and even ruby in some aspects. The rays of the dawn haven't reached us yet, which is maybe for the better. I like this serenity.

"Oh, fuck me," I hopelessly moan. "I need a drink after this. Anybody seen where the vodka bottles are?"

"Check behind the cushions of the sofa. Frank hid them all," Emily calls out.

I want to. But not when I come and see about six people stacked up on each other, and at the very bottom of the pyramid — Frank. I don't think I could get him off even if I wanted to.

So I just sigh and grab a random plastic cup from the table, gulping whatever's left.

My blonde best friend prepares a breakfast for us — three toasts and three cups of coffee, one extra for when Akira finally pulls his ass up from the floor. Supposedly, eating food is meant to help with a hangover, but I think I'm still struggling with the very first stage of partying — the alcohol. Though it's not as bad, now. It seems to be leaving my system after I spent the entire morning throwing my insides up.

Trying to get to the kitchen table is like an obstacle course — jumping over all the passed out people. But once I finally do, I sit down and take an unsatisfying bite of my toast. I don't even remember how hunger feels like.

Emily joins me, and I hear the drained out edgelord behind us stumble his way towards the smell of coffee.

"So, what was it like?" she curiously asks, biting back a foolish smile.

"What, the sex?" I scoff. "It was my first time."

"No shit," her eyebrows arch up and I surely pray nobody is conscious enough to hear us right now. My prayers become even louder when Akira makes a loud, crashing noise before throwing his body on the chair to sit down. Is he paralyzed from the waist down or something?

"Yeah. I was blanked out for most of the time, though. And I might've thrown up. And I did have a messy breakdown like twice. Overall, it was nice. It didn't hurt like it would've for most women, I don't think I even bled."

"Well, you were insanely drunk. Maybe that's why," Akira spits a sassy remark, as if he isn't on the verge of passing out right this second. I don't understand how alcohol correlates with bleeding but whatever.

"Wait, breakdown?" Emily's voice softens concernedly. "Why?"

I grab onto my forehead, coffin shaped nails digging through my knotted hair as I scrunch my eyes and try to recall something. Anything that could give me a clear response. "Fuck if I know. Probably because we used no condom, also because it was my first time and maybe in that moment I realized I didn't actually know what the fuck was I doing. Also, drugs."

"Hold up," Akira pauses. "No condom?"

I slowly sigh, lazily nodding my head.

"Still was your first time, right? We gotta celebrate."

A light chuckle turns into a laughter that echoes across the room, I think I'm having a brain fog when I suddenly don't care about anyone waking up and hearing this wicked conversation. "Another celebration? I'm set for years after last night."

"Sure you are," it takes me a few seconds to register that this is not Akira speaking, and I in fact do not recognize that voice. I believe so, until I turn around.

"Michael..." I can't believe who am I looking at.

It's been two years ever since I last saw him, my little brother. His wavy hair hasn't lost its texture over the time, but it has deepened in the shades of brown — no longer a sweet, blond young boy looking up at me with sparkling, chocolate doe eyes.

What is he now, 12? It's a shame I can't remember.

"What are you doing here?" I mutter with a hint of harsh concern. Despite both of us being minors, there's a gigantic difference between 17 and 12. No way in hell I want him to be messing with the South Side. And no way in hell I want him to see me like this.

My trembling, caring hand tenderly cups his cheek as if his image hasn't changed for me at all.

"I thought you quit," he speaks and my heart tightens itself.

I want to hide my eyes behind my eyelashes forever so he doesn't have to see the flushed veins. I want to wipe off my dark circles and bathe myself in a bath flooding with scented scents to rip this sickening scent off of me.

"Where have you been, sweetie? I thought you don't live with dad anymore."

"Stop talking to me like that. I'm 12."

One thing I got right. I'm not enjoying how he keeps avoiding my questions.

"Listen, Michael," I steadily hold my hands on his shoulders. "Last night was a one time thing, alright? I don't do none of that shit anymore, I swear. How about you go prepare some breakfast for the Gallaghers for when they wake up, we can talk about this later, okay?"

He sighs before walking off, and when I glare at my two best friends, they recognize my eyes screaming for help.

I wish kids didn't exist. In every single way possible.

Heading back towards Fiona's bedroom, trying to find all my things that are scattered throughout the entire house and backyard like fucking Easter eggs, I slightly jump back when my hand opens the door.

I see Carl. In the worst state I've ever seen him.

Handcuffed to the bedframe, blanket only covering up to his naked collarbones tells me enough about what's going underneath. His hair is messy, pointing in all directions, and how his eyes shoot to view me right the second I enter makes me fatigue. He's awake, and pissed off.

"What the fuck happened to you?" my jaw almost dropping to the floor, I ask, even though I fear his answer.

"You, woman. That's what happened," he tells me, irritated.

Holding eye contact for any longer might make me explode, so I look down. Spotting a gun pressing in its frame on his lap is perhaps worse, so I find his eyes again.

My words tremble out of shock, "Wait, so when we, um.. did that, you're telling me I—"

"No! Jesus, worse!" he squeezes his eyes out of aggravated despair. "You handcuffed after and pointed a gun at my head, threatening me to never get near you again!"

As all of my worst fears and disgusting delusions fade, a proud smile crawls on my face. "Good. Listen to my advice," I turn around and walk out.

"What?" I hold my phone against my ear with my shoulder whilst washing the dishes of my own house. I think I have lost count of the amount of days my father has been gone, but especially with my brother suddenly back in my life, someone has to take responsibility.

Hangover's really starting to hit, with each step I take, I feel puke travelling up to my throat. And the sunlight's too bright for my headache.

"Where the fuck are you?"

Shit.

I knew Carl was one of those "DO NOT RESPOND" contacts, but there were too many of them to keep track. I only picked up because I thought maybe I had named Emily or Akira that for a stupid reason, and they had some important information about birth control or whatever. Life's tight right now. My brother could die from a stroke for all I know.

"If you're going to swear at me, I'm hanging up."

"No, Maddie— shouldn't we talk about this?"

I scoff. "All you ever want to do is talk. Fuck off, Gallagher. If I'm pregnant, I'm aborting it. Bye."

"Quit being such a bitch and talk to me!" I can't tell whether he's actually frustrated or not.

"Oh, me a bitch? I wasn't the one to shoot my mighty, little swimming champs into a girl who was on the hospitalization level of drugs!"

"Fuck, well, we made a mistake, alright? Maybe we should discuss—"

"A mistake? What, are you gonna say it happened because we were young and stupid? Fuck that! Do not contact me."

I press on the red button with my wet, soapy hands and slam the phone onto the kitchen table. Few breaths of frustration here and there, until I hear weirdly rough thumping sounds on my front door.

"Carl Gallagher, leave me the fuck alone, I do not want to see you!" I scream, but the banging doesn't end. I figure it'll be better on my end to open the doors so my neighbours don't get hysterical.

Not like anyone actually cares in the South Side. This is just me trying to convince myself it's a better choice to do so, because to be truthful, I want to see him. I want to see the version of him I have laid out in my mind, the one who will tell me exactly what I want to hear. And it's not realistic.

I hesitant before opening the doors.

"I'm here to make amends."

A tired sigh leaves my lips. Tired both, physically, and mentally, and still being tired out from my hangover. But I'm too exhausted to care much about my pride or morals, so I figure sitting down, as he suggests, doesn't sound entirely bad.

"So..." his eyes circle around the room as if trying to find something. What he really is trying to find, though, is a way to not burst from awkwardness.

"So?" I question, trying not to snap at him.

"So, are you pregnant?"

When he meets my eyes, I click back into reality and realize that this is indeed Carl asking me this. The same Carl who once sat on the exact chair next to the kitchen table, sticking up french fries up his nose and confessing he accidentally snorted some of the salt and seasoning, which was what caused him a minor headache that he associated with risks of brain cancer.

I breathe in, which starts out as a sigh, but ends as a distressed snicker. "I don't know. There is no way to know right next morning. But Emily is going to buy me morning-after pills, so we're good."

I watch him nod his head, a slightly nervous smile curling up on his lips. "Right. I'm sorry, y'know? For last night. I don't know what happened."

There he goes, avoiding eye contact again.

"You should be sorry. I've had a shit of a morning today."

I gulp down guilt and self hatred when I realize he doesn't really care. But maybe he does. "Why?"

"Well, I woke up throwing up and pissing all morning because of all the substance abuse, then I remembered I could be pregnant with your fucking child after having my first time with you, god damn it, and I hate myself for it. And for fuck's sake, did you know Michael was at the party? He's only 12. I promised him I'd never drink again," all my words came out so suddenly, I hide my face in my hands and swear to never look Carl in the eyes ever again.

I don't even want to see his face expression.

"Damn."

I figure I'll save him the awkwardness of trying to build a comforting sentence and lead on the conversation. That's not even what I'm looking for, anyway. The thing I want the least at the moment is to be fucking pitied by Carl. "Where was he staying while I was gone?"

He stretches, shrugging. "I saw him here 'couple of times. Sometimes at V's.

"So like a stray dog?" I sound crushed. And hopeless.

"If you put it like that."

Wow. Great. Awfully great.

"What about your girlfriend?" I change the topic, my voice exhausted and sounding hesitant, but in reality I would rather die than continue talking about my brother. "What are you going to tell her?"

"About last night? I don't know."

Not like there's anything to tell. He's a dick whether he says the truth or not.

"Might be best if I don't say anything at all," he almost mutters. "We can just pretend it never happened, right?"

My first fucking time. "Sure," I breathe out. I feel my heart beating faster, pumping up stupid tears to my waterline. I've had a familiar sensation before, when I can't tell whether my body craves a longing embrace or a three hour shower. But it's something. I feel my skin itching.

A shower it is.

I have got to get my life together, and if I don't, I'm as good as dead.

Fuck Carl Gallagher. Fuck molly and fuck teenage pregnancy.

It's been a few weeks ever since all those incidents. Emily successfully brought me the emergy pills, I've been taking them non-stop in the fear of the fetus somehow transforming its way back into my uterus. Maybe there wasn't even a fetus to begin with, I don't know and I'm glad I don't.

Also, one late night, the realization hit me that I am a terrible girlfriend. Instead of breaking up with Chris, I've been leading him on for 2 years and still am. Fuck, I even cheated on him.

Getting my life together means stopping playing dangerous risks and appreciating what I already have.

I've been taking a few drinks and puffs every time Michael's not around. It's hard to quit once you've started again, but I promised myself I will. For no one else but my little brother and my self, I will slowly put an end to all of this.

Less Carl, more Fiona, V, Akira, Emily and Debbie. Sometimes even Lip too, he's been oddly close to us right now. Especially when we're all gathered for drinks, he never misses an opportunity.

I slowly begin to understand why when he texts me late at night.

Lip: hey.

"hi?" I reply back, if I could I'd bold the question mark to state my total confusion as to why he's texting me right now and ruining my self care time watching movies on the couch.

Lip: can I ask you something?

"go ahead, champ"

After like 5 minutes, my phone finally rings with a text message notification. I was already convinced he forgot about me. Or got hit by a car, or whatever the fuck happens to Gallaghers when they randomly disappear.

Lip: what's Emily's favorite color?

"you're a grown man, lip. ask her yourself"

Lip: just tell me.

"idfk?? blue?"

Concerning silence, maybe it's really over for him this time.

Lip: what about flowers?

I send a GIF of a laughing cat, which is oddly uncanny valley, but it doesn't matter that much.

"you're asking her on a date or what?"

He replies with a stupid GIF of a red emoji gritting its teeth out of anger, eyes almost in the shape of two triangles from the utterly burning frustration. Wow. I can't believe this is how he expresses himself.

"fine, she likes tulips. specifically white. and chocolate, get chocolate instead of flowers if you have to choose. but both is best" I finish off with a winking emoji.

He replies with a thumbs up emoji, not even a thanks. Men.

It's a lazy Sunday at the Gallagher house. Fiona asked me to come over, so I did. And because I am such an amazing friend and somehow have a nurturing side to me, I take care of the kids while everyone gets some time to themselves.

Carl and Debbie eat at the breakfast table bacon and eggs I prepared myself, whilst the head of the house is upstairs doing whatever. Meanwhile Lip and Ian are gone, they left at different times though, so weirdly enough, not hanging out together. And, very weirdly enough, Emily just won't reply to my messages.

I carefully chop up some purple grapes into parts of 4, fill a glass of natural orange juice, pop a straw in and bring it all to the kitchen table for Franny.

"Here you go, baby," my soft spoken voice reminds me of my mother in some way. Carefully, I bend down on my knees and feed her the grapes with a Hello Kitty spoon. It's a delight to see how she enjoys my company for some reason, always that candy smile of hers that gets me.

"Wow, look at that. She loves you more than me," Debbie sarcastically snickers, sipping her coffee through a smile.

"Of course not. It's grapes that she loves more than you," I can't hold back a goofy grin. "You love grapes more than mommy, don't you?"

"You are going to be such a good mom," Carl remarks, eyes laid upon me.

His sister almost barfs, poking him in the arm with her elbow. "Eugh, that was cheesy. Never say that again."

Debbie's laughter follows after mine, even Franny smiles, too. And when Carl throws in a couple of swear words in his next sentence, he immediately gets shushed and told to keep his language modest. It's nice having only women around and a dork in the house, keeps the humoristic atmosphere.

Suddenly, Debbie's phone rings a message, and when she turns over her screen to perceive it, a loud gasp pops out of her throat.

"Oh my god," she begins, almost tripping over her words from the rush. "My boss's marriage anniversary is in three days, they're planning a camping trip next to the beach and we're invited!"

"We?" Carl squints his eyes and scrunches his eyebrows together.

"Yes, we! They said I can bring whoever I want."

Debbie is bursting with excitement and happiness, almost ready to jump out of her chair and go straight to packing bags. But the confused silence which lingers in the room is much too loud, it knocks her attention back to us.

"By we, how many of us do you mean?" he asks the question I've been wondering, as if reading my mind.

"Everyone, duh?"

"Like me, and you, and the rest of the—" I start naming, blindly feeding another piece of grape for Franny.

"Yes, me, and you, and Emily, and Akira, and Carl's girlfriend and whoever the fuck we want. It's supposed to be huge, my boss is really serious about his marriage. And the company is going to pay for car fuel and other stuff anyways."

Wow. That does sound like an adventure.

A beach and camping trip with the Gallaghers + many plus ones or plus tens. Is it really worth challenging my sanity over?

Sure as hell it is.

For those three days it's been quite hustle and bustle at the blue house of the South Side. Everyone's going off to steal big backpacks and suitcases, fighting over clothes and seat arrangements in the car.

Which is why I prefer to pack at theirs. I love the noise, and being informed about all the changes and plans. And screaming at Frank, insisting that he is not going with us.

The ride is many hours, days and nights. I wonder how the other people on the lane feel like seeing a bunch of similar cars drive after another.

I sit in behind the driver, who is Carl. I don't know who let him behind the wheel, I guess there wasn't really discussion anyway, he just kind of picked this place himself. In the passage seats sits his girlfriend Kassidi, which forces my eyes to stick to the window. In the middle seat is seated Lip, and next to him — Emily. The brothers take turns on who's driving every once in a while, that equals to their partners, too. It's awkward when Carl sits next to me, squeezed in between his girlfriend and his ex.

Our car is Fiona's, she let us borrow it. Most of the other cars are loaned from the company. In one of them is Fiona, Michael, Akira, Debbie, Franny and Liam, then Chris somewhere mixed along the other cars, also V and Kev with their little girls. And of course, six more cars of strangers we don't know. By now, I think I've lost track of how many people are actually going. Or who is going.

I might have dressed a little too slutty for sitting with my ex's girlfriend in the car. I pray she doesn't think I'm trying to seduce him or whatever, and I pray that he is not getting seduced, considering him sometimes stealing quick glances in the rear-view mirror, my illusion of a honey painted skin because of the veil of the dusk.

I have nothing but time. And thoughts. Car rides are great for undercover philosophers.

When I get tired of Kassidi's annoying voice ringing against my ear drums, I pop in my earbuds and turn on maximum volume.

'I'm getting my life together,' a wise lady once said. 'Fuck Carl Gallagher."

All those prophets are mindlessly forgotten the moment my favorite song comes on. Staring into the clouds with lingering hues of gold, crimson, and violet, I think of memories. Not ones that'd sadden me, or bring a gentle smile but nothing else.

I think of the ones that make my heart beat faster. Make me sweat even though I'm not moving a muscle.

I think of the night at the party. It feels like so much but so little time has passed, I'm even beginning to recall more than I could before. Certain movements, specific emotions that lit up in my chest, how many times he smiled at me and praised me with nice words and how many times I cried into his chest.

I'd be desperate to dig up the reason why I truly sobbed so many tears, but there isn't one in the first place. It's a mix of many. Most of my emotions aren't explainable, I feel like an infant at heart who was high on molly.

But it'd be a lie to say that it wasn't an enjoyable night. Stupid, regrettable, probably one of the worst times and mistakes of my life. Yet I enjoyed every second of it, even when I couldn't hold back emotions behind the wall I've built and became as fragile as a bomb.

I catch his eyes in the rear-view mirror once again. It's as though I've been caught. I have to look away to not bring attention to my flushed face.

And when it's his turn to sit down next to me, I have the sudden urge to break the window open and vomit all over the parking lot of the gas station, before jumping out and running for the hills.

But it's finally over. We've arrived.

As we park our cars in the driveway nearby a forest, the sound of groups of people yawning, stretching, running off to piss and complaining echoes like a loud protest. Meanwhile when I look deeper into the forest, I suddenly worry a bear is gonna maul me alive.

For today, no beach. Everyone has to settle in. Whilst there was still at least a tiny bit of light from the sunset reflected from the painted sky, everyone hurried to put up tents and search for logs and rocks to set up fireplaces. I'm equally bad at both of the things, so I just helped unpack and organized everything like we were a group of homeless survivors trying to make it through our first day after making it through a crashed plane.

Our group is a little separated from the others, close enough to see them in case a wolf destroys our campsite, but far enough to not be bothered by their talk of business and wives. I can still recall exactly how their faces cringed when they found out everyone is going, I'm sure they won't complain. Funnily enough, the boss was pleased. At least someone enjoys the presence of Gallaghers.

Now, the sky's completely painted dark with beautiful stars sparkling in the distance and sounds of crickets echoing through the space. We all sit around the campfire, taking shots of jelly tequila and other forms of alcohol. Franny, Liam and Michael are off to play with the rest of the kids, which definitely sounds terribly frightening for a mother and a sister. But we were promised to bears and no wolves in the woods, so it might be okay as long as they're under someone's watch.

Chris' hand on my thigh, I look at Carl's on Kassidi's right behind the sparks of fire in front of me. I gulp.

Suddenly, Debbie's drunk mouth is beginning to blabber, and she suggests playing truth or dare, insisting that we are all now naturally overly honest because of the alcohol. Good point, everyone agrees.

Akira and Emily make out and almost set each other on fire, wasn't very pleasing for anyone to experience that, considering how Akira is quite literally gay and Emily's sight hovered on Lip the entire time. I catch them share a look every once and then, it's cute.

Fiona admits that the blond cop's she took virginity from dick is like 9 inches, V and Ken improvise how would their true wedding look like with some acting and a bouquet of prickly sticks instead of flowers, Carl hunts down a squirrel, Chris burns down his underwear in the firepit and Kassidi admits to hooking up with one of her father's friends.

One of the most crazy events of the night is when we randomly found Frank laying amongst the branches and moss next to our campsite. In return for him being such a pain in the ass, we all collectively smudged our jelly shots into his hair.

But when the ruthless arrow of the game pointed at me, my breath hitched.

"Maddie, truth or dare?" Fiona asks me with an arched eyebrow, I'm already fearing, no matter which one I pick.

But if I'm something, I'm surely not a pussy. "Dare."

"Pick anyone in this room, except your boyfriend, and orally trade oxies," she speaks as if a narrator of a tensive drama story, before slyly smirking and throwing two oxycodone pills into my hands.

"Seriously, you brought oxies?" I breathily cackle, scanning them over in my bare hand. How does that even work? I can only imagine it looking like a french kiss, but two drug addicts participating.

Frank starts screaming at the background at the mention of his favorite drug, but he's tied down to a tree and nobody really cares. My eyes look through my possible options.

Fiona, you rat.

You knew what you were doing, sly bitch.

My circle of choice isn't very quite big, considering the fact I'm not attracted to women and today I'm not looking forward to experimenting. If I can't pick my boyfriend, then who am I left with?

Oh my god.

My nervous eye contact tells him everything he needs to know as I throw one of the pills over the flame, slightly hoping it catches on fire.

"No, stop!" Kassidi stands up before me as I do too. "This isn't fair, he's taken."

"Oh, sit down, Melania Trump. This just a game, I didn't really marry Kev, did I?" V rolls her eyes, which was the least thing I expected.

I watch her jawline clench at the woman, before sitting down with a stack of pending anger and arms crossed one over another. She eyes me down with such a stare it could kill, as I walk around the fireplace.

Shit, how am I even supposed to do this?

He's looking up at me, and I'm standing in between his legs.

Fuck.

I carefully bring my knees over to hug his thighs, adjusting myself comfortably as I pop an oxy into my mouth. A wave of adrenaline rushes down my chest at the way his fingertips carefully hold me steady in place, it's obvious how he regrets that movement as soon as our skin makes contact, but it must've been an act of instinct. Struggling, I try to keep my focus on his eyes. I don't want to think about Kelly's frustration, or whatever the fuck everyone is wondering right now.

He pops in the pill too, and it reminds me that this is really happening, and we're only going to look like dumb fools if we stretch more time. Fuck. I can't tell if I'm sweating from embarrassment or humiliation or anxiety.

My knee almost rolls off the log, intuitively causing his hand to grab my inner thigh and my hands to squeeze onto his shoulders for balance. I nearly swallowed my oxy from the sudden panic, and it's only getting worse because of this stupidly round log we're seated on.

Fuck it. I forcefully grab him by his nape so he has no other choice but to allow me be in control, and collide my lips with his.

Tenderly, I shut my eyelashes tight and tilt my head for easier access, slipping the oxy smoothly into his mouth with my tongue. My head is empty, yet overflowing with loud static.

To have him under my touch, my body language urges to close the tiny gap separating us until there's not a single centimeter left. To roll my hips into his, to breathe in his scent and grip onto his hair. But I can only do so much when everyone's eyes are on us.

At last second, I peek a confident smirk at the thought of Kassidi watching us. Maybe I do care what she thinks, in a way that isn't self destructing.

He wasn't the one ready to back away, and it concerns me to think what would've happened if I hadn't, but the second his pill slithered on the tip of my tongue I had to take an instant shot of vodka. The taste was too sickening, most of mine was already dissolved all over the inside of my mouth.

After me, he takes a shot too and everyone cheers. First thing I do is check up on his ex. Not even clapping, she's clearly displeased and I can imagine Carl waking up with his neck spotted with hickeys like a god damn poisonous frog, her way to claim what's hers.

I don't mind it. It was worse watching her orgasm in front of my dinner, anyway. Little psychopathic girl can handle some oral drug trading.

There only comes a few times I ever see Carl dumbfounded and flushed, and this night's one of them.

Still a shot of vodka in hand, I stand up and self-assuringly make my way back to my spot, nearly tripping over the rocks and probably falling into the pit of flames. Maybe if I wasn't drunk and a little stoned I would hope to burn to ashes, but fuck, how tiring it is to be stressed over every little thing in life. Enjoying it is what matters the most, to dance in the rain and not complain about it

The game continues for a few more crazy rounds, before Kev hears an eerie noise and it signals everyone to go to sleep. For all the know, those coworkers of Debbie's could be early birds and start their day before the sun even rises, no way in hell do we want to be left stranded here and find our own way towards the beach.

Originally, I'm supposed to share my tent with Michael, Franny, V's girls and Liam, but I saw them creep like sneaky spies into Emily's and Akira's tent with a long, striped snake wrapped around their tiny hands, so for tonight I will spend some time alone, up until my friends start screaming out of pure fear.

Dazing off to the dark ceiling before allowing my brain to rest, I notice a dim bulb of light nearing the entrance of my tent.

"If you guys are back with the snake, I'm burning this place down," I role over to the side and murmur into the pillow of my sleeping mat, subconsciously expecting a few childish giggles or so, but it's oddly quiet, and the bull of light keeps getting closer.

"Maddie, it's me," a scarily recognizable voice whispers.

I swing my eyes open and bring my upper body up.

"Carl?" I loudly mumble, trying to keep my tone low because no matter how drunk or stoned I am, I sure as hell know this isn't where he's supposed to be.

Now, wide awake, I can clearly perceive his facial features lit by the lantern he's holding.

"God, put the damn lantern down. You look like a wizard, it's creepy," I rub my eyes and try to adjust them to the light. He snorts, following my given directions. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Kassidi's mad over the whole oxy thing and won't let me anywhere near her. She says I smell like your perfume," he speaks as though he's talking about a terrible tragedy.

Wow. She's surely not the type of girl I took her for, and here I was expecting to wake up to him complaining about how sore his dick is.

"So your first idea was to come here?" I scoff.

"Where else do you want me to go? I'm not sleeping on the bare ground with slugs and worms. Worse, curl up in the corner of some other tent that's already taken."

"The kids are gonna come back, y'know? They're only gone to give a seizure to my friends."

"False," a dumb smirk curls up on his lips, "I heard them snoring when walking past Akira's tent."

My eyes roll a whole circle. "Your girlfriend's not gonna be any happier with you if you decide to spend the night with your ex who you made out with."

"Quit acting like you care. FIY, your sky rocketing ego was pretty obvious, so faking your empathy won't fool me."

"It's FYI, dumbass," I sigh. "Just get in. And don't touch me."

I hold up my thin blanket for him to and roll over, so he's facing nothing but my back.

The last time we've shared a bed was probably when we were still kids, or maybe teenagers already. I can't recall, it's happened way too many times anyways.

Not for the wrong reasons, though. Innocent sleepovers when the Gallagher house was overcrowded. It happened frequently, even when someone was gone or in jail and their bed was free, mostly because Frank just kept bringing random people into the house who kept occupying it. And making me sleep on the floor felt weirdly rude for them, I was almost part of the family.

But hell, how am I going to get any sleep tonight?

Things are different now. Feelings are different.

Every time I close my eyes, I can literally sense his body heat close to mines and it keeps me wide open. Feels like a medieval Chinese torture method.

But thank the lord for making exhaustion more powerful than thrill, so after forcefully keeping my eyelids shut and taking some unnoticed, deep breaths of relief, I manage to slightly doze off to sleep.

It's heavenly while it lasts, but in just what feels like a few moments, I accidentally toss over to the other size and my eyes flutter awake again with the sensation of someone breathing all over my lips. Is it a dark morning already, or was I never asleep in the first place?

I notice how his eyes are watching mine, dark and dimly bright like a fading street lamp, and a soft smile creeps up on the soft lips I previously tasted. My orbs wander to them, then back to his gaze, the alcohol is making me way too nice to turn over again and reject this oddly comforting look of affection.

"You were amazing," he softly murmurs, words barely comprehensible.

"What?"

"Tonight. I've never seen someone get Kassidi so furious."

I scoff. "That's not a good thing for a boyfriend to say."

"But it was impressive. She almost teared my head off," Carl lightly snickers, I only flash a smile. Figured I'd be too much of a bitch to laugh at that.

"Crazy ex things, right?" I mock myself, ready to close my eyes once again and listen to my brain repeatedly begging me for rest.

It's quiet now.

"Remember the promise I made?" his voice a whisper.

I slightly widen my eyes in confusion. "What promise?"

"That I'd fuck you again when the time is right."

Woah.

Woah, woah, woah. Too fast, too sudden, I think I feel a heart attack coming.

No the fuck not, Gallagher, I do not remember your fucking promise because I was in a whole different universe when you made it. Or maybe I do, some parts of the night just feel like total blur, so familiar yet so distant at the same time.

I hitch a breath and try not to freak him out with my soberly drunk reaction. I'm much more in touch with reality this time, but if I were truly, fully, completely sober, I'd probably immediately laugh into his face.

Still wouldn't be a no, though. Jesus Christ, I'm fucked up.

"You think now's the right time?" I jest, smiling with a hint of frivolity. I have no idea where this confidence is coming from.

"Do you?"

Ugh.

I harshly wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a deep, passionately lustful kiss. I must admit, it is much better without the lingering taste of oxycodone in my mouth, and everyone's eyes on us like we're the stars of some kind of drama show.

I like having him in private. I also like flexing him in public. Not like there's much to flex with a moron like him, but something about him keeps the women going.

He towers over my figure as I carelessly push the blanket to the side and arch my back against all his small touches. Jealousy lingers on the tip of my tongue, I suffocate him with it.

I'd have to stop the world just to stop this feeling.

Gasps and restrained moans, I bite my lip to remain quiet in the fear of waking anyone up. God, what a circus would it be if I had my boyfriend walk in. Or Kassidi, ready to make amends with tears streaming down her face. Or the kids, venomous snake in hands. Or anyone really, even thinking about that makes me want to hysterically laugh.

Orgasms scientifically improve sleep quality, so this is for the better cause. 'Cause if we won't go to sleep soon, we'll wake up grumpy, and if we wake up grumpy, we'll ruin everyone's day. Thank us later, bitches.

I jump wide awake from the sharp sounds of two pans repeatedly colliding outside, and some men screaming words I'm still to lightheaded to understand. Jesus, my ear drums are going to explode.

Digging deep into my scalp to soothe the hangover headache, I yawn and struggle to open my eyes, but when I do, I realize the reason why I'm intensely sweating is not because I had a dream of running through mossy bridges and wobbly stoned pathways from a gigantic serpent, it's because there's a fucking arm over my chest and a man's body heating up mines.

Oh my fucking god, why hasn't he left yet?

"Carl," I shake him awake, quiet enough to not let anyone know he's here. "Carl, wake up you idiot."

"What?" he mumbles, clearly the deprivation of sleep speaks.

"Get out of my tent, now!"

He sits up, eyes squinted and face muscles scrunched. Poor guy probably doesn't quite get what's going on, and why am I the one covering my bare tits with the blanket, not Kassidi.

When I get a better look at him, I notice a set of three fucking hickeys on his throat.

I am never taking a shot or a pill within 5 feet of Carl ever fucking again.

"What time is i—"

"Shit," I over pronounce, "shit, shit, shit. Pass me my bra and my makeup bag.

"Makeup bag? Why the fuck—"

"Now!"

Wow. Interrupting two sentences of his in a row, that's a record for sure. A record to clarify that this is indeed serious, so although being completely dazed and out of this world, he does as he's told.

"You don't need makeup in the morning, you look fine," he mutters under his breath, stretching out his arms into the air and enjoying the relaxation and I struggle slipping on a black, laced bra.

"It's not for me, dipshit. It's for you."

I begin surfing through the bag.

"You're going to put makeup on me? Fuck no, I'm not letting you anywhere near my face."

Annoyedly, I roll my eyes and hit him in the head with a concealer container. He's probably suffering from the hangover headache too, this is just to make it worse.

"Look," I open up a tiny makeup mirror right in front of his face, pointing down towards his throat. All of those reddish purple, outstanding hickeys all over his skin, two on the right side, one on the left.

For a moment, he checks them out and looks proud. "Not bad," he says, smugly raising his eyebrows as the tips of his fingers trace over them.

"Just a reminder — your actual girlfriend, who slept alone all night, is going to wake up and see his boyfriend, who slept at his ex's, covered in hickeys. Sounds like a breakup yet?"

He closes his eyes, which I think clarifies he understands and gives me consent to waste the products I gave him for the result of two teens getting horny on a fucking camping trip. Maybe it's good that I have absolutely no interest in actually getting with Carl, a week in and he'd already be banging some another childhood chick I don't even know of.

I begin closely applying concealer onto the hickeys, he hitches from the sudden coldness and discomfort of the liquid on a sensitive spot.

"Should we talk about last night?" he breaks the silence, probably his first genuine thought to originate ever since he woke up.

"There's nothing to talk about," I reply. Actually, there is stuff to talk about, especially now that I can recall all of it the night after. But we used protection, and I am already in the progress of fixing my mistake, so nothing needs to be urgently discussed. "It was purely physical. No feelings involved, right?"

"Right," he breathes out, gratefully nodding as if I just solved world hunger and found the cure for cancer at the same time.

I carefully hold him by the neck, feeling his quickening pulse against my tender fingers as I use my other hand to smudge in the concealer. The shade's not even a match, but it'll be fine. As long as nobody, for example Kassidi, gets too close and inspects his throat, or even worse, puts their lips on it.

"I hope you enjoyed all your mind-blowing orgasms because it was the last time. We're ending things today and now, alright?" I speak clearly, adding last finishing touches to my work of art.

"Why?"

God. "You have a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend. This is weird, and wrong and we're both terrible people," my words sounds informative, as if this is complete news to him, like a mother teaching his ton to not be a dickhead.

With the continuing sound of two pans colliding against each other over and over again, I realize there's probably not much time before everyone packs their bags and does whatever is so urgent, so I surf through the mess and throw Carl's clothes at his face, whilst also slipping on mines.

“Kassidi's gonna be gone soon for some family shit anyway. I can talk to her about fucking other people when we’re long distance, though I'm sure she won't be very pleased.”

“First of all”, I state, looking him dead in the eyes, “she’s still here. Second of all, I’m not the kind of girl you can bone and go off kissing your girlfriend and being a good fucking boyfriend. Third of all, when she’s gone, I’m gone too.”

I search through my dump of clothes and items to find a hair brush, eyes flickering from one thing to another as Carl pauses for a second.

“What?” he asks with a voice that sounds insulted. And confused.

“Yeah, smartass,” I roll my eyes, brushing my knotted hair. “What, did you think I’d stay here for the school year? Go to school in this dumpster and live with my mentally and physically unavailable dad?”

“Wait, physically unavailable—?”

“Carl Gallagher, where the fuck are you?” Veronica shouts in the distance, causing both of us to widen our eyes and snap our heads towards the sound. You can’t tell me she’s the one with the pans.

“Go on, duty calls,” I bop my head towards the exit, signalling for him to get the fuck out.

With a displeased sigh, he opens up the tent and leaves. I can only imagine how many questions he urges to ask, which just makes me terrified to face him alone again. I wouldn't describe myself as a very up-front, communicative person. I don't understand why does he want to talk about everything and anything all the time, when there is no point at all.

Rushing, I wipe sweat off my face and hands using wet wipes and step out the tent to greet the early sunshine myself.

The brightness blinds my eyes, not a single cloud in the sky. A tender breeze flows along the atmosphere to freshen up the temperature, otherwise, we'd all be already melted to the soil. I inhale the clean air into my lungs with a smile, with the idea to revitalize them, but they must be crumbling apart into ashes already.

Despite the uncomfortable situations, it feels way too good to be out in nature. No street fights and alcoholic perverts like in Chicago, no sickening smell of car gas and overwhelming chatters of displeased civilians. I feel good about myself, like if someone were to ask me to climb a mountain and run a marathon afterwards, I'd be down.

My hands drop on my hips and I scan around the campsite, trying to find something to do. Most people are packing, which I find strange, like I should be doing it as well. Carl hasn't went too far off and I see him talking to Kassidi, looks like they're trying to fix things. And when Veronica walks past, Kev following after her, I quickly stop her.

"V, V!" I call out. "Why's everyone packing?"

"We're going to the beach, ain't nobody told you yet?"

I shake my head, dazzled. "No?"

"Go pack, girl!"

Looking like I've just stepped out of a haunted house, I repeatedly nod and smile, assuring her I will as I slightly push her out of the way so I can rush to Carl and warn him.

Beach, sure, how exciting. Not when concealer and water is involved!

Arriving to the scene of crime, I flash an awkward smile which is probably the bitchiest thing to do, and do the second bitchiest thing — grab Carl by his sleeve towards me. "Carl, can I talk to you for a second?"

I'm surely ruining this apology for him. This isn't what it looks like, I swear, Kassidi. Or maybe it technically is.

None of them reply, unless her sassy eye roll counts, so I pave my own way and pull Carl towards my tent again. But in the fear of causing too much suspicion of fucking, we don't go in.

"Can't handle 5 minutes without me?" he grins like a drunk, and I have the sudden urge to slap him.

"Listen, V said we're all going to the beach soon. Do not get in the water. Your concealer will wear off," I explain before providing him time to ask questions, trying to keep this conversation as small and comprehensible as possible.

His toothy grin slowly fades away. "Can I go in up to my collarbones?" he asks curiously, eyes bright with a mix of confusion and hope.

"No."

"Up to my waist?"

I straighten my lips, resisting a sigh. "Sure, whatever. But be careful."

"Yes, ma'am."

I give him a rough push on the chest, trying to wipe his cheesy smile out of my sight. "You're not funny, go!"

My eyes linger on him for just a little while. A little longer than usual, arms crossed as if I'd be a military wife watching her husband go serve his country. But I promise myself this is because of last night, so therefore, nothing to overanalyze.

Some things just don't change.

As a child, I've always enjoyed playing in the inflatable pool in the Gallagher's backyard, or bringing a bunch of swimming rubber ducks to my bubble bath.

Unfortunately, there was never enough time, money, or desire for my parents to ever go on holiday, especially swimming. Which makes this time so memorable for me.

We brought a few towels and laid them out on the soft, sun-kissed sand. V and Fiona spent all their money on sour, alcoholic tropical cocktails, surely it was an irresponsible act handing them out to minors, but genuinely, who cares? We've all done so much worse.

Screams of pure joy and chuckles. It's as if every past rivalry, disagreement, or held grudge had just disappeared into thin air along with the gushing surges and relieving sound of seagulls. Every single problem felt so insignificant, like when I forgot to bring a swimsuit, Debbie revealed she had an intuition that'd happen (or that I simply didn't own one), so she bought a cute bikini before hand. I couldn't help but feel a little flustered the moment I saw how much skin it reveals. But the gorgeous raven shade matched so well with my brunette, voluminous hair, and it curved against my figure perfectly, I couldn't refuse.

First thing we did after a few sips of the cocktails was play that shoulder war game. I never truly knew how it was called, nobody mentioned it, but I had always known it was my favorite.

Watching everyone else, clapping and cheering on was fun enough. But when the exciting part came, I wrapped my legs around Chris' neck and used at least half of my strength trying to take down Emily, wrapping her legs around Lip's neck. The waves of the ocean kept swishing us around, we probably reminded others of astronauts high on weed on the moon, until Emily took me down and I fell sideways into the glimmering ripples.

Smiling ear to ear, I celebrated my defeat with drunk snickers and another sip of my frigid drink, the ecstatic sensation of the melting ice cubes on my tongue freshening me up.

After a few more rounds of winning and losing, splashing waves on each other and slipping on sea foam, the day passed in the span of a minute. The dusk was upon us now, setting sun casting long, amber beams of its light all over the blueish lavender sky.

Everyone panting from exhaustion already, some were heading towards the campsite, but to be honest, I wasn't the only one having a fucking amazing day, no one truly wanted to leave. Except for Kassidi, who suddenly got a stomachache and spent half of the day tanning on one of the towels.

Carl even suggested to sleep on the sand, which somehow wasn't a terrible idea until Fiona brought up sand worms and crabs.

To finish this heaven of a day off, whilst others joined Kassidi for a moment of serenity, some of us followed along the horizon of the beach and went looking for rocks.

At that exact moment, I think I felt free.

Completely alone. Feet after feet, strolling on the shore as my sparkling eyes gaze into the breathtaking, ombré sunset. And when I get reminded of what I'm supposed to be doing, my stare swiftly shifts to the ground, scanning the wet sand for stones and whatever else I can find.

Normally, I'd think this is boring and serves no purpose, but today feels special. It's like I'm a completely different person. Maybe no one is ever fully resistant to peace.

I come across many rocks that look exactly like my irises, I can't tell whether it creeps me out or fascinates me. Even the thin striations are sometimes accurate.

Even when being so distanced between everyone I can only see them as tiny stick figures and hear their voices as echoes, my eyes still find a way to intensively linger on Carl, who only went out stone gathering for a minute or two before coming back to Kassidi.

My mainstream problems don't seem to end for the next remaining days.

My eyes, I wish to separate the part of my brain that controls them from everything else that signifies me as me. I don't want to look, but I look, and I sometimes feel something in my chest that has no thought process behind it. Because I don't want to feel, and I know it's something irrelevant. Unexplainable, maybe my body hasn't smoked gotten its dose of nicotine for too long.

It's the fourth day of our vacation. We feed Frank oxies and leftovers when we feel like it, as he's still tied up.

Until he isn't.

My flip-flops crunch down the branches and moss as I wander around the woods. They aren't dense, so I'll find my way back easy for sure. I just needed some time to think, and be by myself whilst still keeping a light chest. Something I haven't done in years.

Until I hear Frank shouting: "Maddie! Maddie, oh thank goodness, Maddie. You're here!"

His voice sounds completely tired, running after me. If a stranger saw this scene, me flinching back as he breathlessly whines my name, they'd call the police.

"What do you want, Frank?" completely dazzled, I narrow my eyes and scrunch my eyebrows. That isn't something new, I always copy the exact reaction each time Frank refers to me for something. But my orbs widen when I notice a German shepherd puppy he has his wrinkly arms wrapped around.

"I found this, I want you to keep it," he gently hands the puppy to me, him silently squeaking and squirming underneath the old man's fingers. I figure I have no other choice but to handle it.

"What the fuck? Are you drunk?"

"No, no, well, yes, well, not exactly. Long night, anyways," he shakes his head, "I may have found this lil soldier barking all night in this dark, lonely forest. I would keep it myself, but the Gallagher house is already overcrowded, and it's only a matter of time before Lip or Carl bring back a baby home. So, I want you to have it."

I take a look at the dog. It's cute, the more I stare at it, the more I want to squeeze it from aggression. His fur also appears to be fluffier than a typical German shepherd's, still, he reeks of wetness.

I have way too many questions.

Why was he in the forest all night?

Where the fuck did this dog come from?

Does Frank even know Carl's age?

"Frank, I can't have it. Planes don't allow dogs."

"Oh, come on! Some do! With the right intention, you'll find a way to bring it back home, won't you?" he smiles, and it looks awkwardly creepy because half of his teeth are missing.

I hopelessly sigh. What can I say to a drunk man? Or high, or whatever. Long night, he claims.

"I'll see what I can do."

"See? I knew you had a heart, Maddie. Unlike all my children," he breathes out, rubbing in between his gray brows.

"Come on, Frank. Do you want me to bring you back?"

He shakily nods, and I am much too good of a person to just leave him here, so I let him follow me back to the campsite.

It hurts to admit to myself that no matter what, this dog is not coming home with me. It's so adorable, and just from holding it against my chest I have already started to form some kind of bond. Playful, and calm, and not loud at all. Perhaps it is a bit shy, still. Especially when we finally reach the campsite, everyone, even Debbie's coworkers, surround us and baby the puppy.

"What are you going to name it?" Emily wonders, giving it tiny and gentle boops on its big, round nose, whilst Fiona scolds Frank in the background.

"I don't know yet. It's a he, might have to look for some names that won't remind me of a white male."

Time passes.

The moon is just about to overcome the horizon, I sit on one of the logs next to an unlit fireplace. My skin is covered in goosebumps, but I don't want to stink up my entire sleeping place with the stench of wet dog, so I choose to play with him outside.

Or maybe that's just an excuse. Maybe I want to watch the shadow of Carl and Kassidi feeding each other strawberries from inside their tent. It's miserable, everything, the burnt out charcoal and my gaze. How the dog whines and barks loudly into my face when I stop paying attention, the slap back to reality feels like a terrible hangover.

"Hey," Chris calls out from behind, seating himself down next to me.

A sudden wave of guilty washes the entirety of my body, I want to cry.

"Oh, hey," I quietly mutter.

"You aren't sleeping yet?"

"No," I hum, "figured I should spend some time with this animal before I go back to New York. I've never had a dog before," a sad smile curls on my lips, as my hand throws a thick branch for him to catch.

Chris quietly hums. "Cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?" his voice beams with hesitance, yet undying curiousity.

"Go ahead."

I begin to nervously brush my finger against the side of my index finger, acting so focused on playing catch with the german shepherd, I don't even care to turn around and face him like a normal person would do in a conversation. I've never been like this, I don't get nervous easily.

"Why don't we share a tent? Call me insecure or whatever, but we're dating, aren't we?" the way he established the two last words made me gulp, but I might just be hallucinating.

"I told you that already," I try to force up confidence. Oh to have a shot of vodka in my hand right now. "It's because I'm sharing one with the kids."

"Franny can just sleep with Debbie, Liam with Lip or Fiona, those girls with their own parents, and Michael pretty much anyone. Besides, they spend every night at Emily's and Akira's anyway. You spend them alone."

I sigh, still painfully avoiding making eye contact. "I just want some peace to myself."

"But I'm your boyfriend. We don't have to fuck if you don't want to, I just miss you," his hand slowly creeps up on mines, fingers intertwining together.

He waits for my answer, and I can feel his heart weight down with disappointment when I stay silent, clutching my hand away from his.

"It's not that," I softly mutter.

"So, what is it?"

Fuck. My heart screams, and I look to his eyes. His face will haunt me.

"I've slept with Carl. Two times, I think. Almost three."

It's as though the second I begun with my words, they ended. Time passes as fast as my heart beats, and I don't even want to hear his response. Because even if he tries to sugarcoat it, deep inside I'll always know his anger for me. Frustration, sadness. Fuck, I've led this man on for two years.

"When?" his voice cracks, but I can tell he's still trying to process.

"The Gallagher party," I start, what I'm about to say next sends shivers down my spine. "And the first night of our trip."

Eerie silence.

"I was in the tent next to yours," I hear his heart shattering through his words.

"I know."

"So, you love him?"

I sink my teeth into my cheeks, my guilty eyes falling down to my fingers, as they follow their quick movements of fidgeting.

"No," I breathe out. "I don't know—"

"You'd rather fuck someone you don't love than your own boyfriend?" his tone arises, a hint of aggression sets me off. My eyes find their way back to his, but this time a different glint shines.

"Don't shout," I furiously state, spitting a whisper behind my teeth. The least thing I need is someone to eavesdrop on us.

"I've loved you for two years. Two, god damn, years. I was nothing but loyal to you."

"I never asked you to be loyal! Or to love me, or to even be my boyfriend!"

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Do you remember the day we started dating?" I raise an eyebrow. "It was the first day we met, we were both on the verge of our having our livers collapse and I was trying to find distractions not to kill myself. We were together for like a week before I moved away! I thought when I ghosted you for those two years it was clear everything was over, if there was even anything to begin with."

I sense his frustration rise. "There's a thing called communication, Maddie. I don't know if you're familiar with it, but you cancel relationships with words and not leave the other person hanging on a hook."

He's right. I don't even know how to reply.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I'm sorry, okay? This was never supposed to happen."

"I waited for you. This thing we had, which you don't even want to consider real, it meant a lot to me."

I bury my face in my palms, unsure if I'm trying to hide tears that are surprisingly welling up in my midnight eyes from the thought of what I am willing to say next, or do I just not want to look at him anymore. All I want is to sleep it off and pretend this never happened, pretend it's a daunting nightmare.

"I don't know how to love, Chris," my voice trembles. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"

I think he wants to say something, but stops himself before the word leaves his mouth. I brush a single, sorrowful tears off my cheek, somehow digging up the bravery to look him in the eyes once again. Those green eyes of his, they paralyze me.

"I didn't grow up around love. I've never seen my parents kiss, or even hug, I never had an example of how love is supposed to look like. I tried to love Michael with all my heart, but he pushes me away and I don't think I fully understand why. My fear of commitment haunts me. I could never love you, even if I tried."

"So those two years meant nothing to you?"

"No," I say almost pridefully. But it's only the truth.

My restless eyes follow his figure as he stands up and mercilessly looks down on me. I expect a word or two, but he turns around before I can form a thought and heads towards nowhere.

"Wait, where are you going?" I clutch my hands around the log, fragile concern in my voice as I try to focus on him through my tears.

"Somewhere," his reply is cold. Much colder than his words used to be, much colder than the heart he offered to me once. And I so ruthlessly squeezed in my hands.

I think it hurt me more to come in face with my own psychological problems than to lose him. To realize that this will be an undying cycle that'll keep repeating every single time a new love peeks into my life, I'll never put an end to disappointing them. Disappointing myself, going through arguments over the same thing.

The night after is underwhelming.

I sleep alone, just like he mentioned. A dazzling regret fills me, maybe I shouldn't have ended things with Carl. I'd proudly state he's the only person I want to see right now, but I'm not even sure if that's the truth. He's the reason I couldn't keep lying to myself, and to my boyfriend. He's the reason all of this happened in the first place.

Those thoughts occur only when I'm 9 shots in.

Another day passes at the trip.

Nothing much to say, it was awkward. Funnily enough, not a single person questioned the reason as to why me and Chris have been ignoring each other, our gazes cold as ice each moment they meet. Maybe it isn't a big enough for others to notice or care, or maybe everyone here has manners and doesn't want to tense up the atmosphere.

A cold evening hangs easy above our heads. We're all sitting around the campfire, heat warming up my cheeks and bringing me comfort I craved so rough last night.

It's as though everyone's eyes are on me, especially when Chris is sitting on the log on my right between Debbie and Michael, whilst Kassidi and Carl are wrapped up in each other like always. I want to burn down this place.

Someone suggests playing 7 minutes in heaven. I can't quite remember who, as I was downing a bottle of tequila the moment they mentioned it, but they also came up with an interesting twist: as we have no wardrobes present, and using tents is boring, the two people have to walk down the forest until they can no longer see the light of the campfire and stay there for a whole 10 minutes, included with the time of transport.

Instead of using a bottle, which would feel much more traditional and enjoyable to me, Debbie finds some sort of wheel website on the net and enters all of our names in. Even Frank's.

Few rounds pass, and eventually she calls out my name. Along with Carl's. Fuck, great, perfect even.

With the reputation I have been building so successfully, there are many eyes to check on after Debbie proudly announces our names. Kassidi, angrily staring me down through her eyelashes as if she's trying to use a mind trick to blow my head up. Chris, nearly same as Kassidi, except the look in his gaze feels saddened, too, like he's trying to get into my head. Akira smiles with a cigarette wrapped around his lips, and Emily joyfully winks. Even Fiona grins devilishly.

And of course, Carl. A tiny hint of flusterment present in his nervously straightened lips, but he seems to be doing much better than the last time we played a game. Good for him. Not me, though. My turn came too soon, I didn't have enough time to completely melt down my brains with substances.

Uneasily, we head towards the dense forest in silence. This trembling fear of getting lost shakes in my chest, but I try to quiet it down with looking back every once in a while, making sure I memorize each step I take.

"Relax," he breathily chuckles. "We'll make it back."

Hopefully.

The beaming glow of the campfire gets lost within the trees and bushes, that's when we stop. His arms cross over each other, as he carelessly bumps his shoulder into one of the trunks and glares at me with dimmed eyes. I couldn't catch a glimpse of him if it weren't for the bright rays of the moonlight, and a slight shine of the lantern I brought along.

I slowly place it down on the mossy, soft ground.

"Quit looking at me like that," I mutter, subconsciously copying his pose.

"Like what?"

I groan. "You know what I mean."

"I don't," my fluttering heart stops the moment he begins slowly walking closer to me. "Tell me."

A gap barely distancing us away from each other, he stops for just a second. To check if I show any signs of hesitance, to see if this is okay for him to do even after what I told him last time. To mentally laugh at my flustered face, chin up, iris to iris staring into his eyes like I might be trying to hypnotize him. But in reality, it's quite the other way.

I stand still, paralyzed. My thoughts busy with analyzing the overwhelming sight of his eyes matching the exact shade of the moon peeking through the gaps of the tree leaves, and his breath pattern, and everything that has happened, is happening and is about to happen. I want to reply to his previous words, but it seems I might have lost them somewhere deep in my brain along the way.

So his warm hands melt against my skin, one cupping my elbow and the other reaching down to my waist, as his soft lips tenderly collide with mines and he moves his body into my figure, leaning my back against one of the tree trunks.

I allow myself to be held by him for just a moment, for his kiss to devour me. Afterall, this is what I have been longing.

But it doesn't take long before my morals kick in.

"Stop," I whisper into his lips, my fragile hands outstretched against his chest as I use the smallest bit of force to push him away. His face isn't displeased, but it's hard to read him. for any further information. "Seriously. I told you, this is over."

"It doesn't have to be," his lips hover over mines as if of instinct, before he realizes that I am dead serious.

My hand slaps him across the face.

"Jesus, Carl. Do you seriously not feel guilty about all this?" I quiet down for just a second or two, waiting for his response, almost expecting to not receive one.

"I don't dwell on it," he murmurs, gently rubbing the reddening area on his cheek over and over again.

"Oh, you don't dwell on it, huh? Guess what, I fucking do. I had to break up with my fucking boyfriend because I couldn't handle lying to his face and pretending like the thought of him hasn't been sickening me ever since you came back into my life."

A smug smirk curls up on his lips, and I immediately wipe it off with another slap.

"Do you love Kassidi?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you care about me?"

"Of course."

"Well, it was nice while it lasted, but it's time you pick one of us. 'Cause I can't fucking take seeing you all head over heels for her."

My heart is about to thump straight through all my bones and skin, right out of chest. Cold sweat over-washes the entirety of my body, but it felt great in some way to tell him that. Something that has been on my mind for a little while, now he knows.

It takes a moment for him to comprehend what I just said, and I realize that once he scrunches his eyebrows together and slightly shakes his head. "You want me to pick?"

I break eye contact. That's my response.

"You like me," his tone softens, as if he's trying to confirm to himself the idea of this entire conversation. I peek at his egoistically soft smile, and it is nearly one of my biggest regrets of tonight.

"It hurts me to see her date a fucking cheater."

Distant sounds of sand-hoppers and owls fills the silence, but it doesn't last too long.

"You know I can't break up with Kassidi," he breathes out with such a voice, it might be my delusions of hearing what I want to hear, but I'm getting a hint of disappointment. Yet the way he tilts his head at me makes me think he's trying to sugarcoat his words, to make his decision appear understandable.

She's fucking crazy. She's insane, way too attached, doing all sorts of weird things with him and cutting her own flesh to prove her love. Why the fuck does he even want to be with her?

Ironic coming from me. Still, it's not my battle to fight, and it's not my place to shame, so I keep these thoughts of envy and frustration to myself.

I feel like a baby deer that's about to get hit by a car. My midnight eyes find their way back to his, pupils dialed all across the iris to adjust to the darkness. "What were your intentions in the first place, then?"

He sighs, barely noticeably shrugging. "Fuck, I don't know, Maddie. I hadn't seen you in a long time. And I missed you."

"And that was your way of showing it? Fucking me and dipping?" I snap at him.

"I never—"

"That's not the fucking point, Carl!" I exclaim, slamming down the air with my hands. "You—You were my first, and you just told me to pretend it never happened."

"What else did you want me to—?"

"You're so fucking ignorant, and careless, and such a fucking dick, I— I can't—"

"Maddie, Maddie—" He makes an irresponsible attempt to get closer, let the filthy fingers of his slither across my upper arm. But I reject, trudging back a step and nearly falling over a thick tree branch intertwined within the surface of the dirt.

"Get your hands off me!" I suddenly breathe in, leaning a trembling hand against the tree to hold balance. "Go on, live your shit of a fantasy life with Kassidi. Get married and have fuckfaced babies, I don't care," I state, holding back tears welling up across my waterline as I storm out towards the campsite.

I hear my name echo across the area a few times as my feet angrily tramp through the branches and fallen, dried out pine needles.

Vomit builds up my chest, I rush to wipe off any remain of tears to cover up whatever the fuck just happened. Though, it won't be a lie if I openly admit I'm hurt. I'm fucking hurt. My heart is shattering, and tonight the world seems so dark and evil, the idea of having to wake up tomorrow and live again sickens me.

The atmosphere between us changed, they probably even heard him yell my name from afar. But everyone's too drunk to openly care, so the games continue.

I'm not a pussy. A stupid fucking Gallagher won't ruin my one and only chance of a trip, so I tag along. Trying not to burst into tears, which seems like a tough job until the bottle of vodka kick in.

It's Akira's suggestion to play another game — never have I ever. Surprising, because he usually isn't the one to really be up for childish games and only plays them to not feel left out.

'Never have I ever owned a sex toy', 'Never have I ever masturbated using food', 'Never have I ever walked in on my parents shagging', 'Never have I ever shot a family member', 'Never have I ever used my hair to strangle someone', 'Never have I ever kidnapped my half-sister in a shipping crate', "Never have I ever watched my boyfriend impregnate my mom', 'Never have I ever orgasmed from a massage.'

The list goes on and on. It really comes to my realization how fucked up everybody in this circle is.

Kassidi's turn comes shortly. "Never have I ever drugged my little brother, so when my mom would find my dad's stolen drugs in my room I could have an excuse," her words chain me down to the log, make my heart stop and my breath shorten.

"Who the fuck told you that?" I calmly yet harshly ask, the peace before the storm.

Not a single word out of her mouth, just a taunting stare, so I stand up and threateningly sneak up to her repeating, "Who the fuck told you that?"

My eyes dart to Carl, and the look of raw disappointment takes away the life out of my soul, and I question why do I still care. Akira's eyes are about to pop out of his skull, mouth gaping like a ghost's, Fiona's eyebrows are wrinkled together and here I thought she'd be the one to understand me, considering what happened with Liam. But our situations, reasonings are totally different. My case was intentional, hers wasn't.

That's only seconds away before I dig my nails sharp into her scalp, pulling onto the hair as my other hand goes straight for the throat and my body weight pushes both of us down to the ground. "You fucking bitch, you had no right!" I growl at her as though I'm a wild dog hunting down its prey, her squeals only motivating me to tighten the grip.

"Maddie, Maddie, calm down," Lip's tone is serene, yet rushing. As everybody stands up, everyone has their own intention, either to witness the catfight and spectate, or try to break the two maniacs apart.

"I will fuck you up, you cunt!" my other hand slithers onto her throat, so now both of them are choking her and banging it to the ground. "Go back to the psych ward that your bitch-ass crawled out of!"

"Motherfucker..." Carl sighs in the distance, hands in the pockets of his long, raven shorts as his eyebrows arch. But I'm not there to see it, my eyes and my mind are much too focused on violence.

"Okay, enough," the saviour of the day wraps his arms around my shoulder and uses his masculine force to drag me away from her. The sight of her laying on the ground, still conscious and not a single drop of blood makes my hands itch for more, but I physically can't, so I shout, "You don't fucking know my situation and you never will! If I wouldn't have done that, my dad would've beaten the shit out of me just like I did to you!"

Whilst struggling to catch my breath, I unwillingly listen to her trembling words. "You drugged your little brother, you psychopath, there isn't any excuse to that."

"The fuck do you care? Not your family, not your problem, spoiled bitch," I squirm and kick like a tall child, my force resistant under Lip's hold but I do not care. Though, eventually, something clicks into my brain. "Oh, I get it," a drunken grin lays wide on my lips and I nod. "You're trying to make me look bad in front of everyone, aren't you? That's your way of winning back Carl? You're jealous?"

"There's no 'winning back', he only belongs to me," her face makes every single blood cell in my system want to tear her brains out, I visualize that. "God," her eyes look me up and down filled with so much revulsion, "no wonder he doesn't like you. Your brother, I mean, or both."

"If you think we fucked in the forest, you're wrong," I lean in suddenly. "You're so fucking wrong."

"Okay, ladies, how about we tone this down just a bit and get back to the game, yeah?" Lip tugs me away from the scene of crime and sets me down back on the log with ease, as my point has been made, and I no longer have the excruciating rage, spread all across my system from my heart, that burns hotter than the flame of the campfire. Kev offers a helping hand for Kassidi, her blonde hair tangled and knotted with all sorts of forest trash, silhouettes of my fingers reddening around her throat, soon to be bruises. I smile.

So soon, when my turn comes, I immediately blurt out: "Never have I ever fucked my ex, who I haven't seen in 2 years, while still in a very committed relationship and lied to everybody."

Seconds after my sentence, I force another shot straight down my throat and everyone's loud gasps fill the air. What can I say, wasted people are whores for drama.

"Bottoms up, Carl!" I mockingly laugh, raising my drinks as I shake my head like an old grandpa who's had a few too many, something like Frank, but a bit more hysterical. Yet this time, he doesn't give into my order. Instead, he looks like he's about to beat the shit out of me, watching the vodka go down my throat.

"No fucking way!" Fiona cackles and slaps her thighs, V covering her mouth and Emily with Akira staring me down with eyes as wide as lakes, sprinkles of vodka bursting out through their lips. I'd cry if I got this much attention whilst sober.

"Right? Fuck, that welcoming party was crazy, I rode him sore," I snort, laughing and pouring myself another drink.

"Jesus, girl, didn't know Chicago got you wildin' like that," V roughly rubs on my shoulder as if to praise me, as if what I just admit to is a good fucking thing. But as wasted as I am, I close my eyes and lazily smile.

Until the force of a beast wraps their claws around my upper arm and drags me straight out of my seats, my shot of vodka falling onto the ground as I shout every curse word in my vocabulary.

It's Carl. The glistering glow from the fireplace fades away, I can't even catch a glimpse of his face. But he's frustrated, I can feel it. Quite literally, holding me so firm, I might pop a vein.

The next time I fully open my eyes, I find us in a quite dark surrounding. I thought we got further than this, but the light of the campsite is still present here, so as barely as ever, I can still make out his figure in the pitch black shadows.

"What the fuck was that?" he asks me straight away, hands going into his hair for a brief moment.

I cross my arms over my chest. "What? I was just sharing with others."

"Sharing what exactly? That I fucked you drunk?" he snaps back.

"Actually, yeah," I straighten myself, glaring at him with fiercely wasted eyes. "I wasn't done, though. Forgot to tell them how you almost fucked me the moment I came back to Chicago. And fucked me in my tent when your girlfriend was mad at you because we made out in front of her. Also," I step forward until I can smell his cologne, "I fucked you. Not the other way around."

He rubs the space between his eyebrows like a distressed dad, before burying his face into his palms and running them through his hair. "You're crazy."

"Worry about yourself and your own girlfriend, Carl," I roll my eyes, growing a little more annoyed with his attitude. But I know he's right, and maybe the thrill of just knowing that is enough to brighten up my life.

"I don't have to, she's not this stupid."

I flash a middle finger into his face.

Unexpectedly, my phone starts buzzing in the back pocket of my navy blue jean shorts. I struggle reaching for it, cursing under my breath as to who the fuck is calling me at this time of the night. Turns out it's my mom.

"Hi mom," my voice sings excitedly, catching Carl's attention and burdening even more irritation down his chest. I catch a look of Kassidi making her way towards her boyfriend, sorrow and aggravation burns in her eyes. I know a broken heart when I see one. Sorry, girl.

"Madeline, I booked you and Michael a flight tomorrow 12AM back to New York."

"What?" I squint, genuinely not comprehending a word I just heard.

"It's because of your father. I just got a call from the hospital, they found him unconscious in the middle of a sidewalk. He,—" her voice miserably cracks, "he overdosed."

Time stops.

"They said it was from drugs, I'm honestly not surprised. And I can't have you stay any longer there, not without a guardian. Pack your things, a cab will come at 10PM."

All her words slur into one, and everything I have once cared about suddenly lose meaning.

My phone hits the ground like my heart hits the bottom of my chest. The corners of my vision flicker in multiple colors and shapes, I think I can feel my blood rush around my veins at a burning temperature, hotter than usual, as my breathing patterns intensifies crazily. Even though I'm not thinking a thing.

"Fuck," I hysterically laugh out. "Fuck!"

Dirty converse stomp my phone over and over again. The distant sound of my mom trying to figure out what's happening reaches out for a second, before it's all a muffled static sound. And I laugh.

Harder, and harder.

"Fuck my life!" tears of sorrow pave a glossy way down my reddened cheeks.

I run towards the campsite like I'm in a movie.

"Holy fucking shit, guys!" I yell. "It can't get any worse, can it?"

They all quiet down. So I grab a pointy stick up from the ground and hold it close to the burning flame.

They stand up, they question me, but I can't tell whether the wood is catching on fire faster than my tears can run.

"Everyone keeps leaving," I manically breathe out. Getting pushed around makes me sick, Lip makes a terrible attempt to hold me down, but it all proves to be useless when I hold the flaming branch in his face.

"Maddie, listen to me," Akira's slim hands try to get ahold of me, but I move quicker than lightning. I swing my weapon tougher than a Milkovich. "Tell me, what happened?"

"Fuck off!"

Overwhelm gets the best of me. I think I scream, it might be just in my head. But I know something that's real; how the burning stick of wood hovers over the grass, the people and the dark sky of the night, leaving a smoky trail behind it and inflaming my tent.

All my things.

The sheets that never got washed.

It all burns beautifully, really. I don't think I've ever seen a fire so close, so big, its unbearable heat radiating right on my skin and how my lungs burn inhaling the toxic smoke. Even though I've smoked an incredible amount of cigarettes ever since I moved back. It's no use comparing a fag to arson.

It feels so good, I force out my last few laughs through tears and listen to everyone mutter words I can't focus on.

"What's the matter with you?" Lip scolds me, but I can't even see him clearly in my vision anymore.

The voices of Debbie's coworkers in the very distance are louder than his words. But the loudest of all are my thoughts. I think of my parents fucking up my ability to ever love someone purely and innocently. I think of Carl only ever wanting me when fucking's involved. Making me so vulnerable and raw, only to run back to his petty girlfriend at morning. I think of Kassidi outing me out, and how my father's fury overtook me at that moment. I think of how arrogant and messy I am. How fragile my emotions are and how I am like a ticking time bomb at all times. I think of my sobriety, which only lasted two years or so before I fell right back into the hole of misery. I even tried to deny it, how unfortunate can it get? I think of my father dying. How he must've known it was coming sooner or later, how he went missing and I couldn't even care enough to look for him. What must've happened for him to give into drugs again, and how scary it must've been to overdose in the middle of the streets. I think of Michael and how unloved he must feel. Older sister guilt haunts me. I think of cheating on Chris. I think of leaving Chicago and going back to New York. How my mom immediately wants me back home. But it's not home, at all. That's one thing I realized during the summer.

My thumb lightly presses on the car keys which I stole from Fiona's pocket whilst everyone was trying to pin me down, the lights of her car blind my eyes for a second and just at the sight of that, they all come running and shouting like a group of angry protestants.

But I'm already behind the window. My dad taught me how to drive once when I was 12, I'm not sure if I can recall. And I still don't understand why she parked her car right next to the campsite instead of the parking place like everyone else did, might be for the greater good, though. Even if it'll be harder to reach the driveway.

I hope I don't hit anybody, apologies if I do, but I must get out. I must drive. I'll find my way back to the South Side of Chicago somehow, but before that, I must depart from this hellhole and get myself high on adrenaline.

Though not only my emotions are a ticking time bomb, so is my patience. So when every single memory pierces my heart like sharp pairs of needles, and that agony stacks up with the fact this stupid car won't start running, I hit the wheel repeatedly as tears of frustration and fury prick my eyes.

I think I might burst through my skin.

Suddenly, the car finally powers on and as I am already fidgeting and fiddling with every single thing out of pure frustration, I get hit by the force of bumping into a thick tree at the back. It's nothing but a relief to know that this thing works, I laugh through tears.

So I press down on the pedal. Rough. My car lights aren't toggled to see further ahead.

I drive forwards for what feels like a minute or less, a hint of a steady road still unavailable even after the distances of these forests. Suddenly, my body paralyzes when I hit a tree. With this time being much harsher, my entire vision spins before my eyes and a terrible headache spikes my forehead, yet it also might be from the insufferable, repetitive sirens sharply deafening my ears because I impulsively didn't put on a belt. I let go of the wheel. Oh, seriously, fuck me.

I sit barely conscious in the dark, listening to the distant voices of people eventually getting louder. They all sound so concerned, I don't know if I should believe that.

I don't think I've ever felt this lonely. Before I bleed out, I hope someone comes. I hope it's my father.

Lip opens the doors and I feel slightly humiliated. I feel their judgement burn through my skin, how dumb and reckless I am.

"Keep her awake, it might be a concussion," Fiona taps Lip's shoulder and informs him.I feel like her words should've been a lesson for me alone, but I can't control my body and my consciousness begins slowly dozing off, that's when Lip gently slaps my face a few times.

"Hey, hey," he calls out immediately. "Don't close your eyes, okay? Stay with me, Maddie."

"Ask her questions!" V hurries to yell, almost frustrated with his way of trying to save me from a major injury.

"Fuck, okay, uh," Lip clears his throat. "What happened?"

"Questions she'd actually want to answer!"

"I'm trying!" he snaps at her, but he truly means no harm. It's a stressful situations. "What's your favorite food?"

As Lip carries on constantly making up questions that I'd only hear at a daycare, I listen to Kev completely panicking and screaming at others to call the ambulance. I want to resist, I can't be hospitalized with a flight tomorrow. But suddenly, it's as if my vocal chords won't listen to my brain and I can't put a single word together. Only nod and blink, i don't even know if I'm breathing.

I haven't seen Carl in a while, so I think about him.

How odd it is to long for somebody who did you so wrong.

Despite my wants and desires, a hospital was the only choice.

Thankfully, I didn't get a concussion. Or any major wound or health complication, only a few bumps and scratches. Therefore, I won't need to delay my flight.

The doctors weren't happy with my drug and alcohol results. They immediately informed my mother, which wasn't very a delight to listen to. Despite being completely numb, I could still feel a tingling wave of embarrassment creep down my chest when she started screaming at the poor nurses and threatening to fire them if they do not allow her to talk to me. But even then, it was refused. I wasn't in the state to talk to her, nor in the mood.

Fortunately, everyone convinced them it was only a one time thing and I abused substance purely because of my father's death, that everyone found out through the nurse who phoned my mother. What a lie, I'm just an addict.

I lay in the hospital bed. All alone, with just my thoughts and the sound of a drip echoing in my ears, whilst using up all the energy left on me to press down on the button of a lighter, previously given to me by Mickey in secret. It's satisfying to watch the spark appear and ghost away. He said it's the only thing that'll calm down someone manic like me, and before I could attack him like a wild dog, he left. But he's not wrong, this is what I used to do during my childhood each time I stressed, and for whatever reason, it's always a miracle.

That lasts until Fiona comes in.

"Hey," her voice sounds so candle-lit, almost like a mother's. "How are you?"

After her, Akira and Emily come into the view. I smile.

"Could be better."

"We brought you something," she gently tells me, as Akira hands her a small box. It's neat and adorable, the color of the base being a pastel mix of violet and pink, whilst the bow wrapped around it flashes with Christmas patterns and colors. Nothing new from Gallaghers, at least it was made out of love.

Hesitantly, I open it, a little afraid that something is about to jump at me and tear off my face. But it's only a tray of freshly baked cupcakes with cream and strawberries on top, a slight area of warmth still active enough to reach the surface of my skin and my nostrils. My stomach growls, I don't think I remember how good quality food tastes like.

I pout my bottom lip as if I'm about to cry. "That's so thoughtful, thank you."

Carefully, I wrap my delicate fingers around the box and position it on my lap as I grab one and take a bite. My hunger fools me, I don't feel the craving, probably because I'm being wired to a shit ton of vitamins and other medicine, but I know it's there. I must fuel my body.

"You sure you're gonna hold up fine in New York?" Akira wonders considerably.

A shaky sigh exits my lips, as I shrug, but my lack of energy makes it barely noticeable. "I'll try. Not like I have another choice."

"You can always call us. Even Frank, you might be one of the only people he'd ever respond to," Emily snickers.

"You and The Alibi," chuckling, Fiona rolls her eyes.

I return the gesture and my smile brightens, positivity is always a good thing. "Does he even own a mobile phone?"

"He might," she tells me. "I remember when he owned a BMW for two years without ever telling us, then crashed it into some kind of lake in Kentucky and said he got back by riding a horse until the natives stole it at the border."

"Shit, I remember that too," I accidentally cackle too roughly, causing a sharp pain in my head, but I swiftly brush it off. "God, being around you Gallaghers in my childhood was certainly something. No wonder I turned out like this."

"Oh, stop it. You turned out just fine. We all have our moments."

She's lying, but I pretend to accept defeat and nod.

"It's sad to see you go," Emily murmurs.

"And I was just getting used to you being my smoking buddy," the emo sighs in almost disappointment mixed with disbelief. It feels illegal to see him without a cigarette in mouth, like I'm looking at him bare naked.

"I'll come visit," I try to pinch in a bit of positivity, but I might be lying to myself and others. Knowing my mom, she won't ever let me near Chicago ever again.

Everyone quiets down for a slight moment, thinking of what to possibly say next. "So, what's the deal with you and Carl now?" Akira finally wonders the question that was waiting to be said. My sorrowful smile, barely hanging on my lips, quickly fades away and I tense up.

"There never was one in the first place. Not two years ago, not now. He's always been an egoistical piece of shit."

"That's just Carl," Fiona shrugs. "Though, we were sort of rooting for you two."

I think I feel my soul split into two when a miserably light chuckle flows through my lips.

"Can you guys do me a favor?" I ask.

Without hesitation, every single one of them agrees.

"Tell him I never want to see him again. I don't want him to call, or text me, and if he ever sees me in public, I want him to pretend as if we've never met."

It breaks my heart full of sorrow to admit that, but it's for the best. If my life were a book, I'd erase every single part of him. Every mention, and every event that happened due to his existence.

"Sure," Fiona considerably nods.

I sigh from relief and allow my eyelids to rest easy on my eyes.

I dream of happiness lasting longer than a brief second.

And when the Gallaghers throw me a goodbye party in the hospital room, I can't help but shed a few melancholy tears. Carl doesn't even attend.

[streetkid-named-desire]

2 for V and 6 for Bea :]

AAAAWWWWWW

2. "Do I look like the kind of guy to own a fucking potato peeler?"

Comes from the Hanukkah fic (required reading)

"Do you own a potato peeler?" Bea asked. V stopped and stared at her, "Are you-are you serious?" Bea walked over to V and grabbed the bag of onions out of his hand, "Yeah, it's like a staple kitchen utensil." "Bea, Bea look at me," V blocked Bea against the counter and turned her face to him, "answer me honestly." Bea frowned. "Do I look like the type of guy to own a fucking potato peeler?"

6. "No one mocks my matzo brei!"

Comes from the start of chapter 7 when they have a cute lil bonding moment when they learn the other is Jewish

V heard a woman laugh from the kitchen. A woman? Wait, was that Bea laughing? It wasn't the demure giggle she did at the club or the mean scoffing. It was real, genuine laughter. "No one knocks my matzo brei! You love that shit and you know it," Bea said. "They're fucking crackers and scrambled eggs," Jackie said and Bea laughed again. It was music, the sweetest sound V had ever heard. He stood up, dusted himself off and joined them in the kitchen. "Did you say matzo brei?" he asked. Bea looked up at him. Her hair was damp and the ends curled as it dried. She wore a dark green sports bra and black running shorts. She had dark circles under her eyes and a subtle flush scattered across her cheeks and nose when he smiled. She sat at one end of the table, the same end she sat at last night. V noticed it was the only seat with a view of the front door. He sat down across from her, his bare feet brushing against her own beneath the small table. He wanted to sit like this, with her, seeing her smile and laugh first thing every morning. First of all Jack," V watched Bea as he spoke, she smiled. "It's not crackers and scrambled eggs. They're matzo crackers, okay? Unleavened bread. Second, it's not scrambled eggs. The matzo is soaked in the egg." "The fuck you know about Jewish food, V?" Bea asked, raising one eyebrow. She stood up and walked to the drink machine, only a few steps away. The running shorts barely hid the curve of her tight asscheeks. "Coffee?" "Only if it tastes like shit," V said. "And, uh, my mom made it for me every morning before school." Bea turned around and folded her arms across her chest, she narrowed her eyes. "Bar mitzvah?" "February 14th, 2065," V said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his own arms. "Bat mitzvah?" "August in 2064." "No date?" Bea shook her head, "Nomads. All did it in a group once a month for anyone that turned 12 or 13 that month." Bea turned back around and started the coffee drip. "Best Mel Brooks movie," V asked. This was a tough one, they converted them to BD, but it was still just watching a movie on a screen. If she's a nomad, then it's even less likely she ever saw a Mel Brooks film. He wouldn't hold it against her, but he would make her watch as many as he could find. Maybe go to that drive-in theater he went to with Rogue and Johnny, make it a proper date. Bea turned to face him again, her body language changing into a more languid and relaxed form, "What's a dazzling urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this?" She delivered Gene Wilder's line from Blazing Saddles with perfect diction and enunciation. She nodded her head at V, asking him the same. V cleared his throat, "Because, unlike some of the other Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English accent." Jackie groaned. Bea groaned. He tried to mimic an English accent, and it came out as a southern drawl. Bea handed him a chipped green mug of coffee and patted his face, he wanted to hold her hand and lean into her soft touch, "I don't think Fourth Wall will be calling you back anytime soon, babe." The pet name, even in jest, made V's heart soar and catch in his throat.

[hockey-fics]

Final Summer at the Cabin ~ Nolan Patrick 

Summary: The small community of summer cabins was where you and Nolan met and where every summer you grew closer and closer. After some time apart your history is tested when Nolan invites Travis up to visit. 

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: drinking

A/N: This is quite rushed but I wanted to get something finished because I’ve been promising to do that for awhile. I also know that the whole Nolan/Travis friend dynamic was played out in fics like 4 years ago but I didn’t want to put too much thought into another friend for the fic. 

Picking up a pair of jeans from the pile of clean laundry on the end of your bed you fold them carefully before dropping them into a large box on your bedroom floor. “I don’t know, mom. I should just start looking for jobs once I get back,” you say, your phone on speaker sitting next to your pile of laundry. 

“You have your whole life ahead of you to look for jobs. Just come spend spend the summer at the cabin with us. You know, you may not have a whole summer off to spend there for a long time once you get a job.”

The cabin. Summer at the cabin. It brought back incredible memories from your childhood. As soon as school would wrap up for the year you would pack up every article of summer clothing you owned and pile into the car with your parents to drive an hour up to the cabin on the lake that your parents had bought the year you started kindergarten. The little community held many memories and a few close friends, other kids of families who owned cabins to occupy during the hottest months of the year. 

But after high school you moved away for university and between jobs and internships and summer courses you were never able to make it up to the cabin for more than a long weekend here or there. 

“I don’t know, I-.”

“I heard through the grapevine that Nolan is going to be there this summer,” your mom cuts in. 

Dropping the sweater you were in the midst of folding you stare at the screen of your phone. “And what does that mean?”

“Well I know you too had so much fun together every summer and you haven’t gotten to see each other for a few years so I thought you might like to see him again.” You wait a second and before you have the chance to say anything your mom continues on. “And that last summer you were both there the whole time, you two were really cute together. Maybe you could revisit that.”

Your mom was always a big fan of Nolan. But you didn’t expect one summer fling to leave such a lasting impression on her. “It was one summer, mom. Not even the whole summer either, and it was barely anything. We made out a whole bunch over like a month and a half, not exactly the stuff of romance novels now is it?”

“It was a month and a half after you having a crush on him your whole life.”

“Oh my god, I’m not coming to spend three months at a cabin to see a boy I had a crush on when I was like seventeen.”

“Fine, when you put it like that,” your mom begins, huffing loudly. “At least come up to see your family then. You don’t have to stay for the whole summer if you don’t want, just come for a bit.”

“Okay, I will.”

Two weeks later and you’re sitting on the beach in front of your cabin with a can of vodka soda and a book, working on the beginning of your summer tan. The sun was hot on your skin that was glistening with a layer of sunscreen. Just as you go to turn the page you hear a voice calling your name. Turning your head you shield your eyes from the sun to see the figure approaching you. Tall and handsome as always you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips. 

“Heard a rumour you would be here,” you call as Nolan gets closer before dropping down onto the sand beside you. 

“I’m not the one who hasn’t shown up the last three years,” Nolan teases. “Congratulations on graduating, I ran into your mom on the way down, she said you graduated with honours.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Of course that would be one of the first things she says to you,” you giggle. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a big enough deal to keep you so busy you couldn’t even come back to see us over the summers.”

Groaning dramatically you tip your head back to look up at the sky. “Everyone is really on my ass about that,” you laugh. “Anyway, how long are you sticking around here for?”

“I have to head back for training camp at the end of August.”

“You mean I have to put up with you for three whole months?” You can’t help but notice the way your stomach feels alive with butterflies sitting next to him next to the beach and joking like you hadn’t been separated for years. 

Nolan laughs at that, shaking his head. “I’m the one who has to put up with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You scoff. 

“Who rubs your sunscreen onto your back every hour? Or the aloe when you end up burning anyway? I can’t even remember the amount of times I’ve had to take care of you when you had a few too many drinks, and-.”

“Okay, stop,” you laugh, reaching over and playfully pushing Nolan to get him to stop teasing you.

“Okay, okay,” Nolan chuckles, standing up and reaching his arms down to grasp your hands. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

Gathering the items you had at the beach you drop them off on the patio on the way up the road to the tiny little store in the centre of the community that sold everything from ice cream to fishing tackle. 

“Any plans tomorrow?” You ask, walking along the sidewalk next to Nolan. 

“My friend from when I used to play in Philly is coming up for a bit tonight so we’re going to go fishing tomorrow.”

“I see,” you hum. “Who, um, who’s your friend?”

“Travis,” Nolan tells you, pulling the door to the convenience store open, the bell above the door jingling to announce your arrival. “Are you still on that strawberry ice cream kick?”

Looking up at Nolan you feel a small smile growing on your lips, that he would remember that the only ice cream you would eat the last summer the two of you were here was the strawberry swirl ice cream. “It’s not a kick, Nolan. It’s a lifestyle.”

Walking up the counter Nolan orders and pays for both of your ice creams before the two of you wander slowly back to your cabin, taking the time to catch up on everything you had missed the last few years. “Bonfire tonight?’ You suggest as you get back to the cabin, sitting on the steps that look out onto the lake. 

“Absolutely,” Nolan replies without hesitation. After awhile Nolan heads over to his family’s cabin when he gets a text from Travis that he had arrived. Heading back inside you spend a little extra time showering and doing your hair and makeup. You knew you shouldn’t care about what you looked like. Nothing was going to happen with you and Nolan, that ship had long ago sailed and he had definitely grown out of your league. 

Once the sun had set Nolan sent you a text to let you know that the fire was going and to come over whenever. After gathering some drinks you head down the short path that connected his cabin to yours and down to the beach where a small group of people were standing around the fire. 

“Hey,” Nolan calls and you drop your bag of drinks onto the sand before walking over to him. “This is Travis,” Nolan introduces you to the guy standing next to him. 

“You must be Y/N,” Travis says. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Oh god,” you groan, looking over at Nolan. “Hopefully not terrible stuff.”

“Not terrible,” Travis jokes. “Do you want a drink?” He asks, gesturing to your empty hands. 

“Oh, I brought some,” you tell him, walking back over and grabbing a drink from your bag. 

Eventually everyone finds seats around the fire, Travis in between you and Nolan. After a few drinks and a lot of small talk Travis turns his attention to you. 

“So are you coming fishing tomorrow?” 

Shaking your head you finish off your watermelon white claw. “I wasn’t invited,” you tell him jokingly. It wasn’t untrue but you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything other than a joke. 

“Well I think we could probably change that,” Travis tells you, glancing over at Nolan who was very evidently pretending not to listen to the conversation you two were having. 

“I’m not much of a fishing….person,” you inform him, leaning back on your hands as you stare ahead of you at the fire. 

“You don’t have to fish,” Travis says. “Just come on the boat and look pretty.”

Giggling you turn your head to look up at him. “I think I can get on board with that.”

“Perfect,” Travis chuckles. 

As the night continues on you talk more and more with Travis, getting to know him a little better. At least as well as you can get to know someone once you’re both drunk and giggling at almost everything that’s being said. 

“Well I should probably call it a night soon if I’m coming out on the boat tomorrow,” you eventually say, gathering up your empties into a bag that Nolan had brought down from the cabin. 

“How far is your place?” Travis asks, stumbling to his feet. 

“Not far,” you tell him, pointing up the beach to the path. “Just up there.”

“Let me walk you,” Travis suggests. 

You’re a little taken aback by the offer but you nod in agreement a moment later. Crouching down you wrap your arms around Nolan who was still sitting on the ground. Your chest was pressed to his back and you rest your head on his shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” you whisper in his ear. 

Nolan reaches up and squeezes your hand. “Have a good sleep,” he mumbles. 

“Thank you.” Leaning over you kiss his cheek gently before standing back up. 

“And don’t be late tomorrow,” Nolan calls after you, knowing your track record of sleeping in during the summer. 

Walking next to Travis you feel a slight tension between the two of you. “So, what’s your deal with Nolan?” Travis finally asks. 

“Hm?” You hum, broken from your trance. Looking up at Travis you wait for him to go on. 

“You know, like, are you two more than just, uh, friends?”

“We, um, yeah…I mean, no, we’re just friends.” You contemplate spilling the truth, that you seemed to still have feelings for Nolan after all these years, that Nolan had been your first real crush, that the two of you spent a month and a half together, happily spending every waking moment together. 

“Oh,” Travis says and you can’t tell if it’s doubt or surprise in his voice. 

As your cabin appears in view you point towards it. “Well, this is it,” you tell Travis. “Thank you for walking me back.”

“No problem,” Travis tells you. “So, there really is nothing happening with you and Nolan?”

“No,” you giggle, leaning against the railing to your deck. “I mean, we did, you know…but that was years ago.”

“Hooked up?” Travis presses. 

“No, we never had sex. It was the summer after high school, I was still a virgin and kinda scared to lose it. But we spent the last part of the summer kind of…together, I guess,” you mumble, the alcohol making the words slur together.

“Oh…shit,” Travis mutters. “So you were actually something, not just a hookup.”

“I guess,” you shrug, staring down at the ground in hopes that Travis wouldn’t notice the way your heart ached at the thought of you and Nolan once being something, something that no longer existed between the two of you. 

“So earlier when I asked if you were more than just friends?” Travis pries. 

“We are…we’re just friends now. I promise, we’re just friends now.”

“Okay,” Travis says, leaning into the railing on the opposite side of the stairs that you were standing on. The two of you hold eye contact for a few moments beyond what feels casual. 

Finally you look towards the door, your whole body swaying with intoxication. “I guess I should go inside.”

Travis nods, stepping back from the cabin. “Goodnight.”

Stepping up a few stairs you glance back at Travis. “See you tomorrow.”

The next morning you power through a bottle of water, a couple advil and a pancake breakfast that your mom had made before heading down the dock where you were meeting Nolan and Travis. 

“Good morning,” you call as you approach the boat, a cooler bag with drinks and snacks over one shoulder, another one with a towel, book, and sunscreen in your other hand. 

“Good morning,” Travis replies, catching the bowline that Nolan throws with noticeably unnecessary force. “We get it, you’re strong,” Travis quips, though Nolan fails to respond to it. 

“Someone seems grumpy,” you tease as you get closer, swinging your bags into the boat. 

“I’m not grumpy,” Nolan mutters, hoping into the boat and extending his hand out to yours to help your into the boat. 

Reaching over you take his hand, letting him support you as you drop down into the boat. “Nolan, seriously, are you okay?” You ask quietly, standing so close to him that you were almost touching. 

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he nearly snaps, reaching over and turning the key in the ignition, the sound of the engine coming to life one of the only sounds on the morning lake. 

“Okay,” you mumble, sitting down on one of the seats opposite him, your eyes finding Travis who was looking at you with equal levels of confusion. Sure, Nolan wasn’t the most chipper person, but he would almost never snap at you like that. 

Shortly after you’re floating halfway across the lake, the engine turned off as Travis and Nolan sit in silence with their fishing rods in the water. You can’t help but feel like maybe you shouldn’t have come, feeling like you were interrupting the fishing trip. Taking your book out of your bags you pull your legs up onto the seat you were in, hoping if you made yourself as small as possible while involving yourself in your own activity Travis and Nolan could at the very least talk. 

When you finally look up from your book your eyes connect with Nolan and you wonder how long he’s been staring at you. Smiling gently you see the corners of his lips fight against a smile of their own. “You two don’t seem to be getting very lucky,” you comment, hoping to break the tense silence. 

“We need a good luck charm,” Travis chuckles. 

“And what would your good luck charm be?” You inquire, setting your book down. 

“Why don’t you come closer and see if it’s you,” Travis suggests. 

Rolling your eyes playfully you stand up, walking to the stern of the boat and sitting down on the seat between Nolan and Travis. “So, like, how long does this usually take?”

“Awhile,” Nolan deadpans. 

“Oh my god, Nolan, I’m going to throw you overboard,” you burst out jokingly. “You’re being so fucking cranky so either tell me what your problem is or drop it,” you tell him. 

“I told you I’m fine,” Nolan insists. “Now you need to drop it, you weren’t even supposed to come today.”

“Jesus, man, you don’t have to be so mean to her,” Travis chimes in. 

“I’m not being mean,” Nolan defends. “I just didn’t invite you here for you to hang out with Y/N this whole week.”

“You know what, just take me back to the dock, I’ll go home.” Standing up you walk over to your bag, stuffing your belongings back into it while trying to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes. You hated yourself for getting upset about something so inconsequential, but the thought of Nolan not wanting to spend time with you after so long was heartbreaking. 

“Y/N, no, wait,” Nolan huffs, standing up and walking over to you. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean, I’m sorry, that came out wrong, I want to spend time with you.”

Nolan’s hand lands on your arm but you swing back and shake him off the second it does. “Don’t touch me,” you mutter, zipping your bag shut and dropping it onto the ground. You refused to turn around till Nolan had stepped back, hoping that if there was even a foot of distance between the two of you he wouldn’t notice your glossy eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Nolan repeats, this time his voice is softer, almost pleading. 

“It doesn’t matter, Nolan. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your boys trip so please just take me back so you two can hang out.” 

“I don’t want you to go,” Nolan whispers, gently turning you around so you were facing him. “I really don’t.”

“Then why are you being mean?” You whisper, wiping away the tears that had pooled in your waterline. 

“I didn’t mean to be, I’m sorry,” Nolan tells you, pulling you into his chest. You can’t help but give in, wrapping your arms around him, letting him hold you in a tight embrace. “Would it be mean if I threw you into the water right now?”

Scoffing you push him away, giggling. “Yes, that would be so mean.”

“You threatened to do it to me first,” Nolan defends with a chuckle. 

“But I didn’t do it,” you point out, sitting back down and reaching for your book again. 

The tension dissipates slightly after that, though you spend most of the morning reading and sipping coolers in your own little world on the boat. That was until you started to pull off your t-shirt and shorts, exposing your bikini clad body. “What?” You ask, noticing Nolan glancing over at you. 

“Are you going in?”

Shaking your head you sit back down, adjusting the straps of your bikini. “No, it’s just hot.”

“Okay,” Nolan mutters, turning his attention back to where his fishing rod was hanging over the side of the boat while you stare at him curiously for a few more minutes. 

A few hours later neither Nolan or Travis had caught anything and the three of you decided to head back in to spend some time on the beach instead. Spreading your towel out on the sandy beach you pull your sunscreen from your bag, glancing over at Nolan. “Can you put some on my back, please?”

“Yeah, give me a minute,” he replies, in the midst of spreading out his own towel. 

Travis steps closer, taking the sunscreen from your hands. “I’ll do it,” he offers. 

“No,” Nolan suddenly snaps, turning around and staring at Travis. “No, you can’t.”

“What?” Travis asks.

“Why?” You add at the same time. 

“Stop, stop fucking flirting with her, Travis. It’s pissing me off,” Nolan says, eyes glued on Travis. 

“I’m not, man. I just offered to put sunscreen on for her,” Travis defends, hands raised in front of him. 

“That’s bullshit, you’ve been flirting with her since you met her and you need to cut it out, she’s mine and you need to back off.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat when you hear Nolan call you his. Because it wasn’t true, but you wanted it to be so badly. But you couldn’t handle him being possessive after so many years of not being anything but friends. “What?” You whisper. 

“No, shit, I didn’t mean, I just,” Nolan stammers but you’re already gathering your things. “Y/N, wait, I didn’t mean that, I mean, not like that. We just, we have a history and he’s my friend and just-.”

“Save it, Nolan, I’m going home.” Quickly scurrying up the beach you refrain from looking back, not slowing down till you’re at the front steps of your cabin, your eyes meeting your mom who was sitting on the front deck with a drink in her hand. 

“Everything okay?” Your mom asks, noticing your frazzled appearance. 

Shaking your head you collapse into the chair beside her, recounting the events of the afternoon. 

“And how do you feel about it?” She asks. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I think I, um, might still have feelings for him. But he can’t claim me like, as his if he’s not going to, you know, actually make me his.”

“So you do want to be with him.”

“I didn’t say that.” Sitting up straighter you look over at her with wide eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“Sounds a bit like you did.” Your mom brings your drink to her lips, taking another drink. “I’m going to get dinner started, you want to help?”

Nodding you get to your feet, heading inside to the welcome distraction of making dinner. After dinner you have a couple more drinks with your mom while watching reruns of the bachelor till she heads to bed. As you’re getting ready for bed you hear a gentle knock on the front door of the cabin. 

“Nolan,” you say quietly when you open the front door. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to talk, to apologize, I guess.”

Leaning against the doorframe you wait for him to go on. 

“I guess I was jealous, seeing the way Travis was talking to you last night. I really thought he was flirting and then you two left together and you know…”

“No,” you shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t know.”

“Obviously you guys hooked up, you left drunk together, I know what happens, I’m not dumb. And-.”

“Nols,” you interrupt, reaching over and placing your hand on his forearm. “We didn’t hook up, we didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” you laugh, shocked that he would even think that. “We walked back, he asked me about you and I and then I went to bed. I wouldn’t do that, Nolan. He’s your friend and we used to be…whatever we were. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Oh,” Nolan mutters, his cheeks bright red. “Is that the only reason you wouldn’t?”

Swallowing heavily you shake your head. “No,” you whisper, taking a step closer to him. 

“Can I kiss you?” Nolan whispers, his hands ghosting over your hips, waiting for permission. 

“Yes.” Reaching up you slide your hands along his shoulders, one hand finding its way to the back of his neck as he leans down, lips pressing against yours gently. It only takes a couple seconds before the kiss grows heated, your hands grasping at his t-shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric. “Nolan,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Nolan whispers, with the same sweetness that he showered you with the summer you two were together. 

“I can’t do this again, not if it’s just going to end in August.”

Nolan presses his lips to your forehead before tugging you into a tight hug. “What if it doesn’t have to?”

“Then that’s different,” you mutter into his chest, wiggling a little more space between the two of you in order to lean up and kiss him again. “Then this is exactly what I want.”

[companionjones]

Dancing Around

Pairing: Corny Collins x Reader

Fandom: Hairspray The Movie

Summary: Smut with Corny Collins.

Warnings: Corny is canon age, Reader just turned 18, smut, cursing, I’m sorry I wrote this

*******

    The night you first kissed Corny (Well, more accurately, Corny kissed you), you both knew it was wrong to be doing what you were doing. You and him were the last two in the studio.

    “Hey, Y/n. What’re you still doing here?” Corny approached you at your designated vanity.

    You chuckled as you slowly filled your backpack with your things. “Honestly? Holding off heading home in the storm. Aren’t you doing the same?”

    He quickly avoided your eyes as he gave his answer. “Yeah.” In truth, Corny always made sure never to leave before you. “But I’m only driving. Don’t you walk?”

    “Unfortunately,” you shrugged.

    Corny jumped at the opportunity. “Well, that hardly seems fair. I could give you a ride home. If you--if you’d like.” Corny fumbled over his words at the end there because the meaning behind them finally caught up to him.

    You also hesitated. You weren’t oblivious. You understood how you and Corny were dancing around each other the past few months. You understood what others would think if the two of you ever actually did anything together. He was a full-grown adult, and you had only turned 18 a few weeks before.

    But that didn’t stop you from agreeing. “That would be great, Mr. Collins.”

    Corny almost physically cringed at that. You weren’t the only one of the dancers to address him by such a professional name. However, you were the only one that made him hate his last name. He swore, most days he was sure his feelings were one-sided.

    Most days.

    “Do you want to come in?”

    The car ride had been awkward, or maybe it was just tense. Neither of you had said a word the whole time. That was, until you asked Corny to follow you inside.

    “My mom made chicken noodle casserole, and it’s really good,” you went on, “There’s a lot left, too, ‘cause my parents are gone and I’ll be alone for a few days, and my mom wanted to make sure I had stuff to eat.”

    Hearing that your parents were gone set alarms off in Corny’s head. First, that nobody would know if he stopped in for a few minutes; and second, that he was so wrong to be thinking what he was thinking in that moment. Corny did his best to ignore that second set of alarms.

    “Uh, sure. Sounds fantastic,” he answered you, turning his car off.

    As soon as the backdoor closed behind him, Corny could barely breathe. The two of you were in your kitchen, and you were still caught up in the pretense of the casserole, but Corny could have sworn you took over every square inch of his brain once that door latched shut.

    “We just need to wait a few minutes for it to heat up, Mr. Collins,” you had your back turned, but Corny caught your wrist so you would face him.

    You were fighting a smirk. Of course, you didn’t intend on even touching that casserole. You just wanted to see if Corny would break first.

    And he certainly did.

    “Please. I’m begging you,” he implored, “Call me Corny.”

    A teasing smile broke out on your lips. “Sure, Corny.”

    That was the last straw. Corny, waited one more moment to make sure you knew what he was about to do then he practically jumped forward and collided his lips with yours.

    Corny kept his grasp of your wrist as your hand went to frame his face. His other hand landed on the counter he backed you up against to keep the two of you steady and keep himself in check.

    The kiss had an almost shaking intensity to it. Corny had to fight himself to pull away from you; however, he didn’t get very far.

    His forehead was still pressed against yours as he admitted, “Darlin’, I have been wantin’ to do that for such a long time...” he let go of your wrist, thought a moment about putting a hand on your waist, instead put that hand on the counter as well. Turns out, he needed the leverage to keep himself upright after what you were about to say.

    “Do you want to do a little more?”

    Thickly, Corny swallowed, “I don’t think you know what you’re asking of me, sweetheart.”

    “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting a long time for this, Collins.”

    He pulled back. “I know. But we gotta be sure we wanna do this, doll. If this gets out, we could be in for a world of trouble--”

    You rolled your eyes, then leaned in and kissed him again.

    Corny reacted accordingly. His hands left the counter and found your hips. He chased your lips when you pulled away again.

    “I’m sure, Cornelius,” you told him sincerely.

    Hearing you say his full first name was enough for Corny to give you another chaste kiss. “Where’s your bedroom?” he pulled away just long enough to inquire before his lips were on yours again.

    As quickly as you could, you lead Corny by hand up the stairs of your house. You weren’t fast enough.

    Midway up the steps, Corny stopped, spun you around, and backed you up against the wall.

    “Come on...We still have to get...to my room...” you managed to say between his assaults on your lips.

    Corny disagreed, “I don’t think I can wait that long, little darlin’.”

    Somehow, the two of you managed to stumble the rest of the way to your room, and before you know it, your back was hitting your mattress and Corny was on top of you. You sat up so Corny could help you take your shirt off and Corny could do the same with his own garment.

    Corny unhooked your bra. As it slid down your shoulders, he stared at your exposed breasts in awe. “God, sweetheart. You are more beautiful than I have ever imagined.”

    “Imagined me often, have you?” you teased.

    He smirked, “Every damn day.”

    Collins kissed you again and backed you down on to the bed. The two of you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, but you stopped Corny before he could go any further.

    “Wait. Before we do this, I have to tell you something.”

    “Anything.”

    “I’m a virgin, Corny.”

    His lips parted. “And you still want to--?”

    “I’ve wanted to give this to you for months, babe.”

    Corny couldn’t help but kiss you at that. “Then I should tell you something, too, sweetheart.”

    “What’s that?”

    “I’m in love with you. Have been for a long time now.”

    Overwhelmed with joy, you pulled him down to kiss you again. “I love you too, Cornelius Collins.”

    Without a second thought, Corny kissed you once more as he positioned himself at your entrance. “You stop me whenever you want to, okay?”

    All you manage was a quick nod before he pushed into you. “Corny!” you gasped out, immediately full.

    “Oh fuck, darlin’ you’re a tighter fit than Mrs. Turnblad in a size 1.” He kissed you. “You tell me when to move okay?” He moved his lips in a wet path down your cheek and neck.

    “Move, Corny. Please,” you choked out only a couple seconds later. You needed him to fuck you.

    Collins grunted as he quickly slid out and trusted back into you. He grabbed your arm tightly as he roughly fucked you into the mattress.

    Because it was your first time and Corny Collins was Corny Collins, you didn’t last very long. Your cries got higher and higher until you either went silent in your orgasm, or your voice went so high that only dogs could hear it.

    Corny’s thrusts were softer as he worked you through your climax and when you were finished, he stilled in you entirely so he could give you a long kiss. But he wasn’t done.

    “I think you got another one in there for me. Is that right?”

    Although our mind was mostly blank, you found yourself nodding wholeheartedly.

    Corny chuckled breathlessly. “That’s it,” he congratulated before kissing you, pulling out, and thrusting deeply into you again.

    You cried out. You cried out every time Corny pushed into you in fact. Your cries were so loud that they almost drowned out Corny’s grunts as your dripping hole pulled him back in over and over again. But his mouth was pressed against your ear and the sounds he was making only drove you more insane.

    Your second orgasm approached fast, and you held tightly onto Corny as it hit you. “Fuck...fuck...Feels so good, Corny...Fuck!”

    Unlike your first climax, Corny didn’t slow down. If anything, he got rougher. As soon as your orgasm had subsided, Corny was intensely encouraging in your ear, “One more. Come on, baby. One more!”

    You swore, it didn’t feel like your second orgasm ended, more like it was strung out and only got more intense as your third one hit. You were screaming by then, drowning in ecstasy. “Corny!”

    Finally, he came as he pushed as deep into you as he could and emptied himself inside you with a shout that almost sounded like your name.

    Before he had even pulled out of you, Corny’s lips were back on yours, kissing you with the most intensity yet. “I meant what I said,” Corny notified when he was completely detached from you. “I love you, Y/n. So, very much. And I don’t know what we’re going to do now, but--”

    “Shh. Corny let’s talk about that later, okay?” There was no way you could talk about that repercussions of you and Corny getting together while your brain was so thoroughly fucked-out.

    “You got it,” Corny agreed as he laid down beside you and pulled you into his arms.

    “And Mr. Collins?” you called out, almost asleep.

    Corny chuckled at the name then, and a stark opposite to his earlier reaction. “What’s up?”

    “I love you, too.”

    “That’s all I need, baby.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!