#i don’t go to the gym on weekends but randomly decided to go today and this thought has been bubbling up in my head since i got here

[kaidabakugou]

working out with bakugou and waiting behind him until he bends over to grab the weights to touch his asshole through his workout shorts just to see him clench his butt cheeks from the sudden intrusion

bursting out laughing when he does, your giggles making him smile, cursing “you little shit” under his breath whilst he sets the weight back down before turning around to put you in a headlock

kirishima laughing from the bench he’s in lifting dumbbells where he has a clear view of the two of you as he bursts out laughing when he sees bakugou tackle you into the foam floor

[hansolmates]

(secret) lovers | m

summary; the (not) best friends 2 lovers spin-off where jungkook and you are trying to hide your relationship from his old best friend  pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; established relationship, jiyu is now an old friend and mc went to high school w them, weeb!koo, jk n mc be kinda stanky bc they’re only going to this party for the free booze, soft dom!mc, switch!koo, whiny koo, mc calls jk a slut, cockwarming, gets really soft n’loving at the end, heavy use of the pet name [redacted] i really think this couple is meant to be diabolically dumb together w/c; 2.7k a/n; this couple is really out here living rent free in my mind. jk, mc and jiyu really just are that thruple that i love to hate and hate to love. hope u enjoy this lil spin off! 

[series masterlist]

“You made it!” 

Jiyu flings her hands out, knocking both your heads with hers in the middle in a surprisingly strong hug. It’s a complete episode of déjà vu, from the way her body smells like the peach lotion she used after gym class to the shade of coral lipgloss. From the corner of your eye, you can see the caramel brunette’s tiny face is inching closer towards your ride, her head tucking in the crook of his neck. 

“Jiyu,” you beam. You’re the first to speak, the first to dip their toe in the water. “You look great!” 

“Thank you!” she pulls away, popping her hip against the doorway. The silky material of her coverup gleams in the sunlight, the silvery material showing off the silhouette of her bikini-clad body. Despite the fact that you’re the one who compliments Jiyu, her gaze floats over to the person next to you, “what a coincidence you two came at the same time and—oh my, and where are my manners! Come in, come in!” 

She moves away from the door, revealing an ornate lobby and two twin stairwells. You can’t help but light up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, flecks of pink and blue flickering in your eyes.  Further down the hallway you spot open glass doors that lead to a large backyard that overlooks the lake. Some people are already sitting by the dock, lounging about with drinks and happy smiles on their faces. 

“Actually,” Oh, he speaks. You think with a small smile on your face, side eyeing the man of the minute, “I forgot the rest of my luggage. We’ll meet you inside.” 

“Okay!” Jiyu smiles, “I’ll make you guys some drinks.” 

As soon as the door shuts, Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend for three years blurts out, “She still has a crush on me.” 

You snort, taking off the duffle bag that’s hiding behind your back. Continuing to stand awkwardly at the front door, you prepare yourself to console your boyfriend’s worries. “She still has heart-eyes for you, Koo,” you tease, pinching his side. 

His eyes are big and swimming with guilt, “We should tell her.” 

“Oh, baby. We can’t break her heart this weekend.” 

“But love, it’s her birthday.” 

“Exactly,” you chirp, bumping your head against his arm, “can’t break her heart on her birthday.” 

Jiyu is an old high school friend. Class president, straight As, and even vied for prom queen. The only thing she wasn’t able to obtain throughout her high school years was Jeon Jungkook, the object of her affections. They were best friends in elementary school, eventually turning into distant friends as their interests changed and they got older. Yet, Jiyu still tried to insert herself into Jungkook’s life. Back in high school it was surely cute, the way she’d pine from the back of the room and place anonymous love letters in his locker, but Jungkook wasn’t interested and avoided any of her advances. Fast forward ten years later and it seems like old flames never die out. 

The meetups with Jiyu have been scarce since college and only in large groups. As former class president, she decided to hold a little reunion for her old friends, taking advantage of her stellar job benefits. A weekend in the woods, perfectly balmy and far away from the city. 

“I don’t wanna lie,” Jungkook nearly whines, pink lips warbling at your inability to budge. 

“Mm,” you hum, tracing the fingers across the seam of his back pocket. His boardshorts hide nothing, and you curl your fingers around the swell of his plump bum, “be good for me and tell a little white lie, will you?” 

Jeon Jungkook, former President of the Anime Club, prom king candidate and your favorite nerd in the entire world. 

A teeny tiny lie won’t hurt anyone. After all, you haven’t seen your high school buddies in literal years, and they wouldn’t dare bother to make a fuss about your relationship. In fact, they don’t know of your relationship with Jungkook. The two of you reconnected randomly, some spontaneous holiday party Kim Seokjin is always inclined to throw. You barely made eye contact the first two hours into it, not really wanting to go back to the hellhole that was your late teenage years. Nevertheless, by the end of the night the two of you couldn’t help yourself. 

As you look around the room with utmost confidence, the two of you have made the finest glow up by far. At first you wanted to keep the white lie to save face, you don’t owe anyone an explanation as to how you and the President of the Anime Club hooked up. However, you’re starting to enjoy the ruse. 

Jungkook’s sitting on the other side of the backyard, looking absolutely delicious as he sips on whatever fruity cocktail he created. Judging from yours, you have a feeling his drink probably consists of 95% orange juice and 5% alcohol. 

Jiyu and him are sitting in the large netted hammock, swinging lightly. Gravity is doing its thing, and Jiyu is practically laying on top of Jungkook’s lap, her body pooling to where his meets in the middle. As soon as his thigh touches hers, his eyes flicker to you in panic. He’s shirtless, only with a pair of mid-cut shorts to protect him. The skin that touches him probably burns. 

You wink and wave him away, assuring him it’s fine. Pretending to flip your hair, you turn back to the conversation you’ve been ignoring for the past five minutes. “Man, Jungkook’s so sexy,” Im Nayeon cooes, looking longingly at Jungkook’s form. 

“Jiyu’s so lucky,” Rina eggs on, taking another shot from the tray (a tray for herself, you might add.) 

“Do you think Jiyu’s gonna get some birthday sex tonight?” 

Nayeon snorts, covering her flared nostrils with her hand. That hand eventually loops around your thigh, eagerly pushing you two together by pressing on the meat of your bare skin. “If she’s lucky! Besides, we all know Jungkook had that big crush on you junior year!” 

Her pretty bunny teeth tease you, and you can’t help but smile back in return. “What do you mean, he really liked me?” you ask innocently. 

“Oh yeah! Drew so many little pictures of you in the margins. Little anime versions of you in his favorite outfits.” Of course, you know about Jungkook’s old crush on you. He’s mentioned it in passing, paired with an adorable blush on his cheeks. Hearing it from Nayeon, the shameless grin on her lips and the ease of champagne on her breath is much more entertaining. “Rina, do you remember when Jungkook set up her desk with rose petals and chocolate in a little heart? And then in the morning the janitor sweeped it up? He was so sad!” 

“Yes! I really felt for him,” Rina pouted. 

“Oh, poor baby,” you didn’t know that bit of information. You put a hand over your heart, watching as Jungkook shares a drink with his old friend Kim Mingyu. He looks so different, yet all the same since you’ve been acquaintances in high school. He carries his own weight now, an air of confidence that he’s finally reached over time.  

“Definitely not a baby anymore,” Rina scoffs. She clicks her tongue back to where Jungkook is seated. 

The sun is doing wonders for him, highlighting every crevice of where his biceps curl and twist as he lifts his hand in another drink. Their side of the lawn is doing a toast. For what, you don’t know. You do know however, that Jiyu is trying very hard to cheer right over Jungkook’s thighs, spilling some liquid over his knees. You smirk when Jiyu sends him an apologetic grin, dabbing a napkin up and across his thighs, far away from the wet spot. 

Jungkook, the poor guy, discreetly shoves her off. He brushes his hands and gets up, letting Jiyu fall back in the hammock all by herself. Avoiding the teasing gazes of his friends, he looks into the lake, hiding his blush. 

Still a baby, you think. Your baby. 

“Jiyu was practically sitting in your lap, baby boy,” you card your hand through his dark locks, fresh and shiny from the shower. The feeling is soothing to Jungkook’s scalp until you tug, arching his neck towards your lips and twisting, “did you like that,” you mumble into his Adam’s apple, “my little slut?” 

“N-no! Never, ohgodnever—” Jungkook is sweating, fat beads rolling down his hairline and glistening across his face. His fingers are practically phasing through your skin, the crescents of his fingernails sinking into the swell of your bottom. 

You clench around his dick, your soft folds urging Jungkook closer to his release. But he knows better not to move, and instead shudders from the ministrations, breaking apart from you to dip his head into your chest. His nose pokes at the bouncy flesh, nuzzling into your breast like the softest pillow. 

“Sh-shit, love,” he cries into your skin, “you feel so warm n’soft.” 

“You need to be quiet, baby,” you murmur, playing with the curls that hang around the nape of his neck, “unless—you want someone to hear? My little slut wants everyone to hear that I’m fucking you?” 

“Mm, no,” you grin at his honest reaction, and you can feel his neck heating up at the thought. Your fingers make their way, finally ending towards the apples of his cheeks. You squish lightly, loving the way his tanned skin puffs under your fingers. “I’m—ah—not a slut. I just really love you, only you. Really wanted to hold you in my lap today and show you off,” he whimpers at the unconscious clench of your folds, “just uh—slut for you, love.” 

You giggle, tightening your thighs around your boyfriend’s tiny waist. Your other hands trail down to the ridges of his abdomen, where you two are connected. You absolutely love the way your thighs wrap around his lean waist. 

Jiyu split the floors by girls and boys, as if you’re still in high school. It took forever for everyone to fall asleep, but you managed to sneak away with your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Call yourself needy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself falling asleep with at least one good night kiss. Jungkook was ten steps ahead of you. Your boyfriend was already naked when you arrived, pumping his cock across the bed and getting himself ready for you. His eyes instantly zeroed in on you in his shirt, the black material hanging off your shoulder and begging to be pulled away by his teeth. 

“If I crawled in your lap today,” you murmur into his shoulder, “our whole secret would’ve been thrown out the window.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded, even if Jiyu got hurt,” Jungkook admits, running his hands up and down your back, “I wanna marry you, y’know.” 

You freeze in your ministrations, suddenly feeling the room go cold. Not in an unpleasant way, but the room freezes, the blue-white light of the moon igniting the seriousness in Jungkook’s gaze. You force yourself to stay on his lap, let his cock settle between your folds. The juices of your coupling are dripping down each other’s legs, cooling at your thighs and onto the white blankets. 

“You wanna marry me?” you echo, running your thumbs across his shiny lips. 

Of course, you’re at that age. Everyone around you is getting married, heck many people your age are already in the middle of creating a family, going on vacations to Disney and picnics in the playground. And yes, you also have thought about marrying Jungkook, he’s the only man you can picture marrying. Yet, hearing it out loud and from him only further fuels your desire to make these thoughts a reality. 

He kisses your thumbs, lips smushing against the pads. “Of course I do, love. You’re it for me.” 

You relinquish, slowly pulling yourself off of him. He’s still hard as you untack yourself, his member slapping against his belly button as he watches you in confusion. You make a show of fluffing up the pillows, arching your back and wiggling your ass as you make yourself comfortable to lay on your back. 

“Show me, baby,” you spread your legs for him, gesturing for him to come closer with a curl of your finger, “show me how much you want to marry me.” 

Jungkook smirks, hands immediately pumping with a squelching sound resulting from yours and his combined arousal. You love it when Jungkook takes the lead, just as much as you do. It makes you feel like a pillow princess, especially when you feel lovey sex is on the way. “Will you be quiet? Just like you tried to make me quiet?” he rasps, wrapping a hand around your waist to arch you up. 

“Depends on how good you are.” 

The head of his dick rubs against your clit, slapping lightly at the shiny skin. You both moan when he finally gives you what you both need. As soon as the tip of his dick sinks down, you feel like you’ve both hit home. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, naturally throwing your leg over his shoulder for added leverage. 

“Oh—fuck, baby,” you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a wet kiss. You don’t care that you’re slobbering all over him, the bed creaking and squeaking against his minstraitions. “I—uh, you feel so deep—yes!” 

“When we’re married I’ll fuck you every day like this, love,” he whispers between your lips, thrusting in a particularly sensitive spot that has you arching your back and pulling your chest to his, “I—ugh, I love you so much.” 

“Love you. Love youlovelove—ah! Kook, I’m—” 

The two of you don’t spare any time, the sun will eventually rise and you’ll be back to playing strangers. Jungkook pounds you into the mattress, nails you with enough cum for you to last the next day without having to sneak into each other’s room like horny teenagers. The roughness is smoothed out by love and bliss, eager at the thought of going home and anticipating a permanent life together. 

Five minutes later, you’re starting to feel a little too sticky. “Ohmygod—I need to fucking pee,” you pull yourself away from Jungkook’s sweaty body, palming around for your t-shirt.

“Just pee on the bed,” Jungkook grins. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you make a face, “nasty.” 

“You like that I’m nasty.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

With one last kiss, you skip away from his bedroom and close the door behind you. Unfortunately, as soon as you take five steps in the direction of the bathroom, somebody emerges from the shadows. 

“Holy shit, Jiyu,” you put a hand on your heart, eyes widening at her peeking in from the hallway. “You scared me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she frowns, squinting her eyes to make you out in the dark. It’s easier to see her in her white slip, a thin chiffon material that barely covers her thighs. 

You don’t question why she’s out in the hallway in really pretty lingerie, or why she’s on the boy’s side of the house. So much for being discreet. Then again, there must be an ulterior motive for her if she’s already here, five feet away from Jungkook’s room. You wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been so sneaky. (Well, not so sneaky. You got to him first.) You smell like sweat, arousal, and Jungkook. The shirt you’re wearing feels far too short and the cum in your panties feels tacky and gooey. You feel like a teenager being caught smoking. 

“Why?” Jiyu’s voice suddenly sounds as dark as the early morning, no sign of the sun. 

“Why what?” you answer, furrowing your brows at the sudden change in demeanor. 

“Why?” she hisses, eyes wide with pain and confusion, “why Jungkook?” 

You frown, not liking her attitude. Did she think it was a contest to who would fuck Jungkook first? Did she think she was being slick, sneaking away into a bedroom she has no business being in, even if he was single? You could laugh. So despite your height you steel yourself, looking at Jiyu straight in the eye. 

“Because Jungkook’s mine, and I’m marrying him.” 

As you pad down the hallway as fast as you can, you send Jungkook a quick text. 

[5:44AM] love: pack it up. Plan b go fake a fever we gotta go lol

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 2

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 6k (lol no chill as always)

[a/n]

Sorry for the delayed update. I added almost 1k words just to solidify the characters to give depth even more to the story. Feel free to reread. (It's totally not because I started a different series altogether.)

When I say this is slow burn, I meant sloooooooowww burn. 

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. :)

AO3 

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

What were you even thinking? Actually,  why weren’t you? Had you used at least two brain cells of yours, you wouldn’t have momentarily lost your mind and kissed Tsukishima. You could’ve justified your actions if you were drunk, but you ingested not even an ounce of alcohol that night.

History will remember yesterday as the day a a sober you and a very displeased Tsukishima who found yourselves smooching publicly in the middle of a club. You’re just glad that no other member of the team goes to the same university you both go to. Else, you'd run the risk of getting seen.

Were so touch-deprived that you couldn’t resist even Tsukishima? And what about him? Why did he get along with it? You don’t think he actually hates you. Hate is such a strong word. He just exceedingly dislikes you. So why would he make out with you? Maybe he thought of it as a way of finally standing up to you?

Ugh.

You’re thankful that you didn’t have training yesterday. You were a mess the whole day trying to make sense of what happened. Not that you’re any better today; you’re still baffled as fuck. But you’re glad you had that day off so you wouldn’t have to face him immediately. 

For the first time ever, you’re dreading going to the gym. Even if you’re tired or you lack sleep, you’ve never felt distressed as the manager of the Sendai Frogs. All this because of Tsukishima. But can you really put the blame on him when it was you who initiated it?

“Good morning, y/n,” Eiji, the captain of the team greets you.

“Morning, Eiji,” you say back. Even though he’s older than you, you dropped the salutations already, same with everybody else. 

“You okay?” he asks worriedly. 

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely! When am I ever not okay?” You toughen it up and erase the troublesome kiss in your head. You are their ever shining manager, first and foremost. Anything outside of that has no place in this gym. 

“Never. It’s almost scary actually,” he answers with jest.

“Right? ‘Cause I’m a freaking goddess.”

He gives you a noble bow. “Indeed, you are, my lady.”

You giggle softly. Your players really are the best on and off the court (except for Tsukishima). “Go do your drills instead of buttering me up, ‘captain.’” He gives you a mock salute then jogs off towards the net. 

“Y/n!”

You saunter off to your coach after you were called. “Yes, Coach?”

“Can you help tape the blockers?” You nod willingly, quickly discarding unnecessary thoughts of Tsukishima. 

“Tsukishima’s free. Go start with him.”

You almost flinch upon hearing his name.

‘Great,’ you groan internally as you get the wrap from your kit and drag your feet toward the source of your uneasiness. But what did you expect? Of course, you’d have to deal with him sooner or later.

“Morning, Tsukishima,” you greet him with forced normalcy, acting like nothing’s wrong. As you take his left hand and you’re instantly reminded of what happened the other night -- how this hand gripped your waist while his mouth moved against yours… how his skin felt against the palm of your hand as he towered over you, body against body in a dance so dangerous and so hypnotizing that you lost yourself in the moment.

You tried your best to calm down yesterday, but seeing him right now makes you want to smack yourself from your momentary insanity that led you to kiss him.

Instead, you give him the nicest, brightest smile to channel your frustrations as you start taping his fingers. You just hope and pray that he doesn’t bring it up.

“Morning,  manager .” It was an indirect jab at you. Even when he says it with a dead tone, you know he’s taunting you by addressing you as manager - a tortuous reminder that what happened last Saturday night wasn’t forgotten.

Instead of yielding to the provocation, you respond with your own. You might have messed up, but you’re not letting him get the upper hand. “How was your weekend, Tsukki?” 

“Horrible,” he quickly answers without even thinking.

“Ditto. What happened to yours?” you ask with fake curiosity, already knowing why. Even if you didn’t kiss him then, he was already acting up like an angsty teen forced by his mom to attend a children’s party within the neighborhood.

“Went to a disgusting party.”

You nod pretentiously. “Mine’s horrible too. I got g-”

“I didn’t ask,” he interrupts.

“Well, you’re still going to hear it,” you respond just as distastefully as he cut you off. “I got groped by some perv, but I kinda punched some good manners unto him.” You release his left hand and take his right one to tape it as well. 

“And?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s it. After that, I just went home from how  horrible  the experience was.”

You look up to him, meeting his sardonic gaze paired with a raised eyebrow from what you just said. You know that he understood that you were referring to something else other than the perv incident as horrible.

“How about you? What happened to that disgusting party of yours?” you press on.

“I bumped into someone I didn’t really want to see.”

“And?”

“Do you really wanna know how horrible it was for me?” A smirk creeps up on the corner of his mouth as he asks. There were many times before that you’ve wanted a taste of Tsukishima’s vile sarcasm, just to know what he’d say to you. Today is not one of those times. You don’t want him using that reckless kiss against you. 

“Actually, no. I don’t really care.” You let go of his hand you just finished working with and look around to look for anyone you could use as a distraction from Tsukishima’s attempt to retell the kiss from his perspective.

“Kogane!” you brightly call the setter as you bounce cheerfully towards him. 

Even if you don’t show it, Tsukishima knows he’s gotten under your previously impenetrable thick skin. He detests what happened last Saturday. The more he remembers it, the more he abhors it. The only reason he’s not totally hating himself for getting swept along with your shit is because he knows you hated it too, probably more than he does since it was you who kissed him first.

His smug grin only spreads when you march to Kogane with that cutesy act you only show to players from opposing teams to unsettle them before matches. You take both Kogane’s hands and beam at him. “Do you want me to tape your fingers?”

“Y-you don’t have to, y/n. I can do it myself!” Kogane blurts out, panicking at your sudden closeness and physical touch.

“But I love taking care of you guys,” you pout at Kogane, which only makes the setter blush a shade almost close to red.

Tsukishima follows you to help his babbling, flustered teammate.

“You’re going to kill him, y/n,” he says as he passes by you and Kogane who now looks like he stopped functioning.

You blink at Kogane, realizing what you’re doing to the poor guy.

You must have been really bothered by Tsukishima and unknowingly projected it to someone else.

Tsukishima sneers as he sees you try to ease Kogane from his severe fluster but only make it worse by rubbing his shoulders. 

A dash of pride and satisfaction swells on Tsukishima’s chest as he watches you get agitated with the situation you, yourself caused. Getting back at you feels even better than he imagined it would be. 

--

Even though you and Tsukishima are in the same class, you don’t really notice his presence. Sometimes you’d even forget you’re classmates. Now, though, you are more aware of the fact that he’s actually there than you ever have.

“Alright, class. For your main project this semester, I’m going to have you partnered up. You need to come up with a comprehensive report on mating behavior of reptiles. I’ll randomly generate your assigned reptile.”

You groan. Another collaborative work in the same subject. You don’t like working with others because you don’t want to adapt to anyone’s schedule. You like to get things done ahead of time. You hate procrastinating because you don’t want your uni requirements getting mixed up with potential tasks from your managerial job, especially whenever tournament seasons come. 

The last collaborative work you worked on is a group project where you did most of the work yourself. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t have fucking freeloaders as groupmates.  The little shits made you do 90% of the project because you wanted it done early.

You just pray that this time, you get to be paired with someone responsible. You tap your pen on your desk while you wait for your name to be called.

“L/n and Tsukishima.”

You drop your pen at your professor’s announcement. It bounces twice on your desk before rolling to the floor, but you don’t move to pick it up. Your gaze immediately flies to where Tsukishima is seated and find him glaring at you already. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this entire situation is.

Seriously? Were you a serial killer in your previous life or something? Did some higher power decide to punish you for your grave sins like this? 

Whatever. You’re not having any of this shit. 

You wait until the class is over and approach your professor. “Sir. I’d like to do this project alone.” Or at least with someone else. 

He continues to type something on his laptop, not bothering to look up at you, as he asks, “Why is that?”

“I just feel more comfortable doing things on my own, Sir. Please.” You try to give him your nice student smile but his eyes don't leave his screen.

“Then what? Have you increase my workload?”

Shit. You forgot that this particular professor of yours is known to not budge to anyone. You scramble your brain for another excuse.

“Sir. Can I do this project alone?” you suddenly hear Tsukihima’s voice behind you.

Finally, your professor closes his laptop and eyes you two unenthusiastically. “My answer is no to miss Y/n, so my answer to you, Mr. Tsukishima, is also no. I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but you’re doing this together.”

You can’t help but scowl despite being right in front of your professor. If it wasn’t for that darn kiss, you would’ve loved working with Tsukishima. Even though you don’t have the same classes, his schedule won’t be that hard to match up with because you two have the same training days. Secondly, he’s smart. You won’t have to carry the whole weight of the project. 

“You know what, I’ll reconsider.” A glimmer of hope lights up in your chest as you hear your professor’s words. “I’ll allow you two to work individually — but with an automatic ten point deduction for this project.”

“No,” you and Tsukishima respond at the same time. 

“Great! You’re already getting along swimmingly.” Your professor picks up his stuff and stands up. “Enjoy,” he waves a dismissive goodbye and leaves.

You slowly turn around to face Tsukishima and find that you share the same lour that he has. You cross your arms and lean on your professor’s desk. “Guess we’re together, Tsukishima.” 

--

You allowed yourself one week to compose yourself before you agreed to start the project with Tsukishima. You still saw him at training days, and even then, you tried to have the least amount of interaction with him so the ‘incident’ wouldn’t be brought up again. Meeting him for a project where it’s just you two is different and you needed time.

As much as you don’t want to be with him, you told yourself that it’ll be over soon. You just pushed the kiss in the back of your head and convinced yourself that it was just a stupid kiss. It didn’t mean anything. He probably just went along with it out of spite, so it’s best you think of it as a spur of the moment madness. That way, you won’t be bothered if he sordidly brings it up again. At least now, you can go back to your usual, cheeky self around him.

You’re about to text Tsukishima that you’ve arrived at the station you agreed to meet up at but you already see him there standing while he’s scrolling his phone with his usual white headphones on.

Unfortunately for you and him, the reptile assigned to you two are crocodiles. It’s the worst possible assignment you could get among the roster of reptiles assigned. You need to travel all the way to Wakabayashi for a legitimate crocodile farm to observe, compared to other reptiles which are easily accessible with nearby zoos in Miyagi. You just pray that you’ll only need this one trip to get all the data you need for your report.

You walk towards him and instantly regard how he looks. Despite being in the same university, you don’t see him around much. Even in your sole class together, you’re seated way too apart from each other to even look at each other’s direction. Not that being seated beside each other would’ve made a difference. You’re not friends. There’s no need to talk to him since everything that’s volleyball-related is relayed through line. To you, he’s just one of your players. As far as you’re concerned, the only Tsukishima you’re aware of is the one sweating his white shirt and training shorts during practice. 

To have this much involvement with him outside the gym is throwing you out of your usual loop. You continue studying him at a distance. Today he’s wearing white plaid pants, black turtleneck (probably long sleeves) with a lighter shade of black coat on top, and a brown wool scarf. He also has a gray bonnet that makes his blonde locks frame his face nicely. 

What the heck? Did he always dress like this even in class? How come you never noticed? 

He finally notices you. He puts down his phone and removes his headphones. “How long have you been there?”

“Wow, Tsukishima. You look kinda hot,” you blurt out without thinking.

His eyes expand at your statement that came out of nowhere. “Huh?!”

“Oh, sorry. That must’ve been random. But you look really good though. I kinda feel like I’m meeting a date,” you say with objective candor as you continue to stare at him. 

That catches him completely off guard. The other day you’re on the edge around him. You weren’t even paying much attention to him during training, but now you’re back to being a headache whose mouth knows no bounds as you faze him with your unfiltered thoughts. Now, it’s him who is uncomfortable again with your thorough eyes scanning him approvingly. 

“As if I’d ever date you,” he snaps back at your remark to which you scoff at.

“I didn’t say you would. Maybe you’re forgetting, I’d never go out with a member of the team.”

“Right. But kissing one is totally fine, huh?” he retaliates in an instant with a condescending look. He waits for your reaction, eager to see you distraught and bothered by it. To his dissatisfaction, you don’t behave in such a way. Instead, you sigh defeatedly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I got a little crazy that night,” you say casually to a degree that you sounded like it was just a petty accident. “You kissed me back, so I’m sure you were too. Right?” 

The last word is conniving, and he can tell why you phrased it that way. You’re leaving him no choice but to disregard what happened or else it’s going to seem like it meant something to him. The hell it does. It simply resurfaces back on his mind sometimes because of how unpleasant the memory is. 

‘Devious woman,’ he snarls in his head.

It should be okay. Your reason for what you did can also be his excuse for how responded to it. What he didn’t like is that he hasn’t even managed to make the most out of that incident, while you immediately found a way to undo the grave you dug for him to bury you into.

Plus, the only advantage he sees out of partnering with you for this project is the possibility of being able to pester you the way you pester him during practice. Obviously, that’s already thrown off the window. Now, there’s nothing in it for him for the duration of the project. He is left with nothing but the fact that he has to endure your company. To think that he’s already so miserable when this afternoon has barely even started.

“Yeah,” he answers with contained resentment. “Can we go on the bus now?” He asks to deviate away from the topic already. He was hoping he could still use the incident to unnerve you, but it’s for naught now. 

He enters the bus first and assumes you’ll follow him, which you do as you take your seat beside him. You get your shoulder bag and take out a notebook.

“Can you take a look at this outline I made for our report?” you ask while you hand him your notebook opened at a certain page.

“I can’t read while the bus is moving,” he says then waits for a lame comeback from you. But you don’t comment about it. Why must you keep on being such a wildcard?

“Ah, okay. I’ll just tell it to you then,” you smile at him. “This trip is going to take long. It’d be a waste of time to not make use of it, right?”

He groans internally. Why must you be right all the fucking time?

He also made an outline last night, but he didn’t tell you because he thought it’d be better if he just did the data-gathering himself and let you take the pictures the report should have. He forgot that you’re not as irresponsible and carefree as you present yourself to be.

He listens to you explain your outline, looking for flaws in it for the sake of his grade and also for his self-satisfaction. And he does find a few.

“You should have separate discussion points for mating characteristics for male and females. I’m sure they have distinct traits. Also, I think we should include more than just one species, preferably three if the farm has it.” He continues, “Maybe we can note certain unique behaviors per species. It would be inconclusive, but it would still be nice to include it as a commentary.”

He hopes to extract even just a tiny hint of embarrassment from you for he’s thought of it better than you did. But you just stare at him for a good few seconds before you break into a dazzled smile.

“Oh my God. Yeah, you’re absolutely right!”

You open your notebook and scribble the changes in your drafted outline. “Is there anything else?” You consult him genuinely. You accept his criticisms with an open mind, which vexes him even more. 

“Nothing,” he grumbles.

“Alright. Let’s just revise it again once we see what’s on the farm.”

He doesn’t bother replying anymore since you’re once again right.

He puts on his headphones again to drown out whatever chatter you plan to have with him since you’re done discussing the project for now. Instead of bugging him, you take out a bunch of readings and focus on them intently, completely ignoring him. 

With nothing to entertain him aside from the music on his ears, his peripheral keeps going back to you and how hard you’re concentrating with the papers in your one hand and a pen in the other. 

He removes one muff of his headphone from his ear and asks you, “Don’t you get motion sickness?”

You really must be into what you’re studying because you flinch when he speaks, causing you to drop your pen. 

He feels responsible for it so he leans down to pick it up, but you also do the same. As you both reach down to grab your pen, your temple collides with his. 

“Ow,” your fingers go to massage the spot, failing to notice as he does that your faces are too close for comfort. He watches you wince for a quick while before looking at him, finally realizing that he’s within a proximity familiar to you both. 

It’s reminiscent of that night except this time, the natural light affirms that it wasn’t just the ambiance of the club that made you attractive enough to pull him in and share that heinous kiss. With your well-lit features, he can see that you’re thinking about the same thing he is.

Your eyes fall on his lips and for some illogical reason, he does the same.

Like last time, you’re the first to act on it. The major difference is, instead of leaning in, you retreat. You sit up straight with your fingers still on the side of your head and smile graciously at him. “It’s fine, Tsukishima. I’ll get it,” you say, which he finds half-witted because he’s still bent down and he can already grasp the pen.

He sits back up and hands you your pen. You use the hand on your temple to get it.

“Oh, thanks.” You stare at the pen for a second, then tuck it in your pocket. “Anyways, yeah. I don’t have problems reading in a moving vehicle.”

You dive back to his question and disregard what just happened. It works for him. He’d rather not think about it as well. 

“Have you not seen me scrambling paperwork on our bus rides to and from tournaments?”

“No.” He prefers not to pay attention to you. Hell, he pretends you don’t exist when he can. So naturally, he doesn’t know what it is you do when you’re not being your pestering self. It pains him to admit it, but you do get shit done -- efficiently, too. He should be glad because at least, you won’t be like his previous groupmates.

Still, just you being … you, ticks him off.

You laugh out of nowhere. “For someone who doesn’t speak much, you’re so fucking transparent.”

He frowns, not being able to grasp what you meant.

“Okay, look. I like pissing you off. I really do. And you, you don’t like me a lot. But for this project. Can we pretend that I’m not your annoying manager and you’re not the nasty Tsukishima I know?” 

“How the fuck can I do that when we see each other almost everyday as such?”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “Right. What was I even thinking? Go ahead and be emo with your music over there while I study here, yeah?” You pat him on the shoulders twice with that patronizing grin you always give him before pulling your pen back from your pocket and focusing once more on your readings, completely paying no attention to him for the rest of the trip.

—

As soon as you reach the crocodile farm, Tsukishima suggests that you two roam the area separately to cover more ground. In reality, he just wanted to get rid of you even for just a few minutes. He needed a break from you.

He does so by taking his time strolling around the place, observing how the area is situated. It looks like a park with its vast lush green environment and man-made waters to habituate the crocodiles. There are four main areas: the museum, the hatchling house, the zoo, and the breeding pens. He first goes to the museum, looking at the skeletal structure of some crocodiles. It isn’t really significant to the project but he can’t help admire it.

When he realizes that he’s taking longer than he initially thought, he starts looking for you. He sends you a text, but you don’t reply. You had gone to the zoo’s direction so he assumes you’re somewhere around that area. 

When he does find you, you’re not alone.

There you are near a crocodile pen, getting friendly with a guy he’s sure you just met.

It’s so familiar. The only difference is that you’re not wearing the Frogs’ jacket and you’re not in the Sendai gymnasium. He walks towards your direction, not caring if he’s going to cut off your little chat. You’re there for the project, not to snag some random bozo.

As he closes in behind you, he hears your conversation.

“Actually, birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than crocodiles. You couldn’t tell, right?” you explain with zeal. 

Tsukishima stops in his tracks at the foreign feeling in his chest. Wait a minute. Is he actually impressed? Moreover, what the heck is he impressed for? You should know that. You are both in a higher herpetology class. Even though it hasn’t been discussed during lectures, it’s natural that you know that. However, the guy you’re talking with isn't as enthusiastic. 

“Can’t blame you though. Crocs and dinos share the same sexy vibe with those chill eyes and scaly skin. Also, look at those smokin webbed feet. Fucking work of art, dude. You feel me?” you press on fanatically.

The stranger looks at you with a forced smile, obviously weirded out by your ‘passionate’ description of the reptile. “Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Bye,” the guy bows and storms away from you. 

You turn your attention back to the lowered pen in front of you with a satisfied smile and shudder when you see Tsukishima already there beside you. 

“Gah! You scared me. Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask with your hand still on your chest.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you creeping out that stranger.”

You tither at his answer. “Glad you didn’t. It was fun seeing him all freaked out.” 

He finds it weird. He thought you just had an aversion towards athletes. That’s why you keep driving away anyone who’d approach you during matches. Apparently, that’s not the case.

“He looked like he’d follow you back to Miyagi if you didn’t go all freaky nerdy on him.” 

You jeer at his comment. “He could follow me to the ends of the Earth and I still wouldn’t give him my number. I’d rather date Mr. Crocodylus siamensis over here than boring dum dums blinded by how hot I am.” 

“Then why do you entertain them?” he follows up.

“Caaaauuusse it’s fun to see them squirm,” you declare cheerfully as you veer your gaze at him. “Why the sudden interest with the way I handle men, Tsukishima?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging up to form a playful smirk. “Don’t tell me you suddenly find me interesting?”

You really do know how to push the right buttons to provoke him. He grits his teeth from your audacity.

“I’m joking for fuck’s sake! My god. I already know that even if it’s just the two of us on this planet, and we’d have to procreate to restart the world population, you’d rather choose to doom humanity than have anything to do with me.”

Among all the correct things that came out of your mouth, that was the only thing he could verbally agree with. “Good you know,” he retorts. 

You don’t seem to take offense though. You still keep your unwavering smile as you get your phone out and take a picture of the Borneo crocodile. 

“Should we go see the breeding pens now?” you ask nonchalantly, dismissing the previous conversation like it was nothing. 

--

You both decide to hire a designated tour guide to assist you while you observe the crocodiles, particularly the ones for breeding. 

“Hi, Ms. l/n. I’m Sara and I will be your guide for today,” she introduced herself with a dedicated smile.

“I’m so thrilled that you and your boyfriend decided to learn more about crocodiles for your date,” she adds. 

You and Tsukishima glance at each other before turning back to her. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend.”

You both say simultaneously, except yours sounded like a friendly correction while his sounded like a dead announcement. 

“We’re just classmates for a project,” you correct her.

She bows apologetically with embarrassment and worry. “I’m so sorry for assuming that.”

“No worries, Sara,” you reassure her before Tsukishima says something unnecessary. “Can you lead us on the breeding pens? We’d like to observe the whole thing.” 

“Of course. Right this way.”

Aside from the mishap earlier, you find Sara competent at her job as she fills you in with details not included in the sign boards in the pens. She gives you information about the mating process that you didn’t find when you researched about the subject. You assume Tsukishima’s thinking the same because he doesn’t say anything out of the blue.

“By any chance, will we see a pair mating today?” he asks after a while.

“I’m not really sure, Mr. Tsukishima. It’s really up to the animals.”

You tug on Tsukishima’s sleeve when you catch sight of one crocodile latching himself on top of another.

“What?” he asks irritatedly, but follows your line of sight. 

“Oh, lucky. There you go.” Sara announces with a pleasant smile.

You get your phone and your notes. You multitask listening to Sara, taking photos, and scribbling notes on your paper pad. 

On the other hand, Tsukishima multitasks observing the crocodiles in action and observing you. 

You’re asking important questions to the guide while juggling other tasks. Yes, he doesn’t like you and loathes being partnered with you. However, that doesn't mean he won’t cooperate with you. He won’t mind if you ask him for help, but you seem to have even forgotten that he’s there. 

He grabs your phone from your hand, garnering a confused look from you.

“I’ll take the photos. You take down notes.”

You flash him an honest, grateful smile. “Thanks, Tsukishima.”

Then, you proceed with the things you’re doing more at ease. 

He can’t tell who he’s more pissed at, you or himself. Something about that display of productivity and wit unnerves him. It’s as if it’s telling him that his chagrin over you is unreasonable because you’re actually reliable when it counts. What’s worse is you’re completely oblivious to it. In fact, you’re almost ignoring him.

Goddamn it. What’s he doing? He’s completely distracted now from the project and is solely focused on you. He quickly shakes it off and calms himself down. His attention should be on the reptiles, not you.

He turns his attention back to the crocodiles, but the mating act only lasted a few minutes. After that, you both barrage Sara with an array of questions that she looked too overwhelmed by the end of your tour. 

You’ve covered almost everything for the day and it’s already around 6 in the evening when you get on a bus on the way back to Miyagi.

“That was fun!” you comment ardently with an abnormal shine on your face when you sit down on the bus on the way back. He wears his headphones on before you start a conversation he’s not willing to have. From his peripheral, he sees you turning to him and as he predicted, your mouth begins moving while you animatedly narrate words he could not hear. 

He’s already acting as if he can’t hear nor see you, but you still don’t stop. Knowing you, you will not stop until you make sure he notices you. He wearily removes his headphones only to see you not saying anything and only mouthing words with hand gestures. 

“Seriously?” He scowls at you. He’s already exhausted at having to deal with you even for just half a day, but you still have the energy to mess with him. 

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker but it erupts into a hoot of laughter shortly. You gasp ridiculously after you ride out your stupid amusement from poking at his patience. “Tsukki, I swear to God. You make the best faces,” you say while wiping away your joyous tears.

“Were you even going to say something worth listening to?” he questions sourly.

You study him then shake your head. “I think you’re tired, so let’s just discuss what we gathered next time. You can go ignore me now,” you tell him with an understanding smile despite the slight banter.

You tilt your body in his direction and hoist yourself up a bit to put his headphones back yourself like it’s no big deal.

You settle back into your seat while he stills on his seat, stunned with what you just did while you get your readings again and shrink to your own bubble. You don’t seem to make anything of it, so he doesn’t as well. It was very you to mindlessly get on anyone’s —  particularly his — personal space anyways.

He increases the volume of his headphones and tries to relax. Yet, his attention keeps swerving back at you every now and then. You’re really concentrating hard with your brows burrowed while you stare at your hand-outs. After a while, he notices you bobbing your head from the corners of his eyes.

He can tell you’re as tired as he is and trying hard to fight the sleep that’s taking over you. The bunch of papers you previously held are now clutched on your lap.

On the last bob of your head, you snap out of it. You blink repeatedly and return your eyes to your readings again. To no avail, you’re shutting down with your eyes fluttering when you try again. You look like you decided to give it a rest and put your papers back in your bag. You cross your arms and lean back to your seat. 

He feels relieved that you finally yield to your physical exhaustion. He doesn’t need an additional bullet point to his list of why he can’t fully hate you. Also, you won’t run your mouth at him if you’re asleep.

He feels the soft thump of your head on his shoulder. You probably did too as you suddenly bolt up and tell him ‘sorry' which he only understands based on how you mouthed the word. You lean back again and try to settle back to sleep. But when you start dozing off, you sway to the other side of your seat which is the aisle of the bus.

He grabs your shoulder to prevent you from tumbling down to the aisle. Your disoriented self looks around, alarmed at his sudden touch.

“Just fucking lean on me,” he spits out, irked that he has to say it out loud. It’s not like he pushed you away. You could’ve just stayed as you were and he would’ve turned a blind eye at it out of recognition of the effort you put in today. He’d just consider it one of those times that you do something annoying and he just ignores you as a response.

You regard him with dazed eyes. You open your mouth as if you’re about to say something but decide against it as you shut your eyes again and you let your head rest on his shoulder. But even then, your head still falls forward from time to time. He puts a hand on your forehead to settle you back on his shoulder and slides a bit downward on his seat to accommodate you. 

Jesus Christ, you can study in a moving vehicle but can’t even do a simple thing like sleep properly on it. Why does he even have to adjust for you?

He heaves furiously in contrast to your steady breathing, letting him know that you’re easing deeper to your sleep. 

He distracts himself by looking at the window, witnessing the unmoving dark sky and the changing scenery below. He lets out a sigh.

Maybe he should’ve just accepted the ten point deduction.

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

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[darkangelgirl017]

| Taemin | - Liking It

I stare at my apartment ceiling in boredom, I had absolutely nothing to do considering all my dramas were either finished or the next season was still being made...

My phone suddenly buzzed making me quickly grab it hoping it was who I thought it was, and... it was.

Unknown; Hey baby you look good today.

I suddenly glance down at my flowy shorts and baggy shirt and snorted.

Me; yeah right I'm wearing my comfy clothes.

Unknown; just the way I like it.., do you know why that is babygirl.

Me; hmm no amuse me.

Unknown; it means you aren't dressed to go anywhere.

Me; yeah I guess that's true.

Me; soooo when are you gonna show yourself to me???

Unknown; soon.

Me; ugh your so boring.

Unknown; wouldn't you know...

I turned my phone off before getting up and making my way to my mirror and grabbing my hair brush and brushing my hair.

I tugged off my shorts and put on a jean skirt tucking my baggy white shirt into it and putting on my white Adidas.

Who said I wasn't going anywhere.

I herd my phone vibrate, but I ignored it and grabbed my purse, shoving it into it while walking through my apartment, grabbing my list off the counter and proceeding to the door and locking it behind me before making my way down the stairs and getting into my car.

I drove to the grocery store and parked.

I walked into the store and grabbed a basket and hung it loosely on my arm like a purse.

I made my way through the store picking up various things to make dinner with.

I turned down an isle in the back that held the healthy snacks, where no one tends to go.

I made my to the other end only to be pulled back against a hard chest, scaring the crap out of me until I herd a voice that sent chills down my spine.

"I don't like being ignored babygirl..."

It was him, a man I didn't have a name or a face to put to him, yet he was right behind me.

I tried turning around, but his grip only tightened, I only got a glimpse of golden brown hair.

I groan frustrated, getting a chuckle in return.

"You know I'm surprised you aren't scared of me...

Cause you should be." He breath tickled my ear.

I rolled my eye before huffing out.

"Scared of you? No way, your the only form of entertainment in my life, plus all you do is fallow me around and send me texts every now and then."

He laughs at that making me hold my breath, hearing his laugh made my knees weak.

"What's your name..." I demanded to know, if he didn't give me answers soon, I might just go crazy... scratch that I already am.

"Only... if you promise to not EVER ignore me again." He snapped, making me get whiplash from his sudden mood change.

"Okay, I promise now tell me..." I whined.

Making him hum before he licked the shell of my ear and biting it before he whispered.

"Taemin." I finally had a name to this man who randomly started sending me creepy texts in the middle of the nights till later when he started to text me in the day.

I didn't realize till now, that Taemin's arms had left me and the footsteps were fading around the corner.

I quickly ran that way and as soon as I turned the corner I saw his golden brown hair walking away from me, his tall lean figure dressed completely in black, from head to toe.

I quickly went after him and as soon as i was about a meter away from him he turned a corner and picked up his speed, making me do the same, until I turned another corner finding he was gone.

I huffed, annoyed once again before quickly making my way to the register, paying for my stuff, and making my way home.

I pulled up to my apartment and took all the groceries inside, which wasn't much, considering I like to make fresh food every night.

I decided tonight he was gonna show himself one way or another, if he won't come out I'll force him.

I texted an old college friend and Asked if we could meet up tomorrow, smirking when he responded with a yes.

I was gonna make Taemin jealous beyond belief.

I finished making dinner and ate while watching a dumb movie my brain couldn't comprehend.

I soon got annoyed with the movie, shutting it off and dropping the remote on the table, making my way back to the kitchen and scraping the other half of my food in the trash considering I lost my appetite from being annoyed and that's been happening a lot lately. In fact I've been losing a lot of weight since this man came into my life. He always annoyed me.

I don't like being teased and that's what he did more than half the time.

I dressed in leggings and a tank top, throwing a jacket over top and zipping it up. I walked to the front door putting my Nike's on, putting in my AirPods in my ears, and slipping my phone into a zip up pocket on my thigh after putting it on my playlist. I open the door and locked it before putting the key in my other zip up pocket.

I turned and looked at the view raising my fingers up to see I fit three under meaning I could make it back just before nightfall.

I started running a little faster than I normally would, I wanted to blow my annoyance off and this is just how I deal with it on days the gym wasn't open.

I arrived just before sunset, just as I thought.

I pulled out my key slipping it into the lock and pushed the door open dropping my keys into the dish and slipping my shoes off neatly by the door.

As I walked towards my bedroom I made my way to the bathroom and took a shower.

I put on a large black t-shirt and under garments before making my way to my bed and slipping into it, flipping around for 30 minutes before a was able to fall asleep.

I woke to my alarm, 8:00am. Meaning I had to meet my friend in an hour.

I decided to wear blue washed skinny jeans, a bright red sweater tucked into them, and my bright red vans. I decided to braid the sides of my of my hair and down.

I herd my phone vibrate and I checked it.

Unknown; you look quite pretty a little too pretty to be staying at home...

I smirked before responding

Me; I guess your right.

I then slipped my phone into my bag and made my way outside locking the door behind me and making my way to my car and driving to the location I was meet my friend.

As I arrived I walked into the small coffee shop and seen few people, not many considering it was a weekend and it was 9:10am in the morning.

A boy in the back with dark hair stood up making his way towards me with a smile on his face.

Jaeyoon an old college friend who just happens to be gay but Taemin didn't need to know that...

We hugged each other.

"It's so good to see you! How have you been?" He questioned making me smirk.

"I've never been better than now." I told him backing up and smiling in which he returned.

We both ordered our drinks and made our way outside to walk to the mall which was just around the corner.

"So... why the sudden wanting to meet up?" Jaeyoon questions making me turn and look up at him, in which he was already look down at me.

"I need your help... but I can't tell you here." I mumbled lowly. He glanced around before meeting my eyes again and nodding I smiled.

"Trust me you'll like it, it's just up your alley." He seemed to smile at my comment as we made it into the mall.

I found a more open space before telling him about my plan in a much more similar way than saying I have a stalker and he won't show me himself for the life of me, but instead said there's this guy I really like he's gonna be here and I need you to help me catch his attention and make him jealous. At those words I've never seen a more evil smile in my life.

Me and Jaeyoon spent the whole day together, hearing my purse vibrate every now and again letting me know I had a notification which I chose to ignore to drive him crazy.

Right before I went, Jaeyoon and I hugged before going our separate ways.

I drove home and made my way up to my apartment door which was slightly cracked open...

I wasn't sure how to react. It could be Taemin, or someone completely different. I rolled my eyes before taking my chances and stepping inside, closing the door, and slipping my shoes off. Just as I turned away from slipping my shoes off I was slammed against the door as an angry but silky voice assaulted me.

"You think you can ignore me, hang out with you little friend, all touchy on each other and get away with it!" His words sent shivers down my spine and made me smirk as I looked up at his shadowed features.

"Do I really have to show you who you belong to, cause it looks as tho you forgot..." he bit my lip and moved his hands away from my shoulders to my neck, applying pressure, making it hard to breath.

I tried talking but his lips covered mine in a dominant violation. I responded making his hands loosen slightly around my neck as my hands ran up his chest and looped around his neck.

I pulled away father than needed considering he tried fallowing me.

"Today I asked my friend for a favor to help me out? In addition I got the exact reaction I wanted out of you..." I lowly say letting my breath touch his lips as I smirk. His eyes held confusion before he smirked as well.

"Your a naughty girl, getting under my skin like that..." he says wrapping me up in his arms and smiling down at me. Suddenly his smile disappeared and I was pushed back up against the wall with his knee in between my legs and his hands around my throat making me choke.

"You're not allowed to pull this on me ever again your mine and only MINE." He harshly bit out while I struggled out six words.

"I know and I'm liking it..."

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 6: O (II)

Fuck.

It’s Friday. The third Friday of the month. How could she forget? She’s got it marked down on every single device she owns.

Hell, she even set a reminder on Clarke’s phone just in case…

Fuck.

Octavia lets out a deep breath of air, she didn’t even realize she’s been holding onto as her eyes settle upon the row of gym lockers beyond her. She shifts from foot to foot, adjusting and re-adjusts her beat up backpack as she does.

“Five more minutes, ladies! If you aren’t changed, and in the water by the time I come back out of my office, you can guarantee that you’ll be swimming at least 10 additional laps.” The voice booms across the length of the locker room, causing Octavia to shudder with the added reminder of what’s to come.

She forgot. And now…

And now there’s no way out of it. No note. No excuse as to why she can’t participate.

Octavia hasn’t been in this situation since the that first special Friday of her freshman year. The one where she found herself in the midst of an unexplainable, full blown panic attack after attempting to change into her standard issued school swimsuit and managed to blackout.

That incident had led to Octavia waking up in the school infirmary to the ever so comforting smile of her dad. He had swooped in and rescued her that day, taking her home, but not before making a quick stop for a pint of her favorite ice cream first. Cause, as he put it, rocky road and bad 80’s slasher flicks solves all problems.

And that’s what Octavia loves most about the man that she has come to call her dad. Jake just gets her. With no need for extensive questions or lengthy conversations as her mother Abby is notorious for. He never pushes or prods too much. He just knows how to be there. Like an indestructible safety net. There to always catch her when she stumbles.

Jake had started writing notes for Octavia to get out of swimming ever since that day. They never really talked about it, nor mentioned it to the rest of the family. All Octavia would have to do was mention that “the Friday” was coming up and a day before, a note would be tucked away within her backpack.

But she had forgotten to say something before Jake had left for his business trip and now…

And now, Octavia is stuck.

If she skips and gets caught, then they’ll call her mom. They always do. And that will just lead to another hour-long lecture about how she’s wasting away her potential followed by the standard two weeks without any form of entertainment whatsoever.

But if she stays…

“Fuck it,” Octavia mutters under her breath with a sudden newfound resolution.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Octavia swaps her backpack onto the opposite shoulder and takes off out of the locker room.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ten minutes later and Octavia finds herself crossing the football field, heading straight towards one of the few true hidden sanctuaries that their high school had to offer.

The space under the stadium bleachers had been the first spot Octavia had discovered last year during her hellish first month as a freshman. At first, it had been purely by accident, having stumbled upon it while trying to escape a mandatory all-school pep rally. But soon it became her go-to place whenever she needed a breather from the social gauntlet known as high school.

Octavia gives a quick, precautionary glance around for any possible onlookers and then slips under the bleachers. She drops her bag, closes her eyes, and breathes a deep sigh of relief. The familiar ambient sounds of the surrounding track and field wash over her, bringing a momentary sense of calmness with it.

Octavia knows that this is only a band-aid. A brief respite from the unnamed feeling that loves to wreak havoc just beneath the surface of her skin. This won’t won’t stop it from flaring up again.

Suddenly, the distinct sound of a food wrapper crinkling cuts through the stillness, grabbing Octavia’s attention. Her eyes pop back open and scan the shadowy length of the space.

Nothing… Nothing… Nothing…

“Rae?” Octavia blurts out in confusion as she spots the what looks to be the older latina in the near distance. “What are you doing under here?”

“Just thought I’d take a page from your book today,” Raven responds.

“Funny.” Octavia closes the gap between the two of them, and unceremoniously plops herself down next to Raven, giving her a once over as she does. There’s an odd puffiness to her rich chocolate eyes. Something that Octavia has never seen before. Almost as if it’s the remanence of recently cried tears. But it couldn’t be…

Raven doesn’t cry.  

“Oh, I’m fucking hysterical, Blake. Don’t you know that?” Raven gives Octavia a playful nudge with her shoulder and offers her the remaining half of the Twinkie she’s eating. “You want?”

A hint of a smile spreads across Octavia’s face as she snatches up the Twinkie from Raven and a bite. “I don’t get it. Why do you always have these things?”

“Twinkies?”

“Yeah.”

“Simple. Twinkies are the most superior food ever invented.”

Octavia’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.”

“They’re not even a food.”

Raven grabs the crumpled up wrapper out of her jean pocket, flips it over to the ingredients and smooths it out for Octavia to see. “Says who? A serving of Twinkies has the perfect ratio of fats, carbs, and sodium needed to sustain the average human body for at least 4.5 hours. And they are virtually indestructible. These bad boys can even survive a nuclear fallout.”

“So can roaches.”

“But are they cream-filled?” Raven responds with her trademark smirk.

“Ewww.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them as Raven shifts her position, leaning back a bit to open up a space on her lap. No explanations are needed. Octavia automatically adjusts her own body accordingly, laying her head down within the open space as she has done so many times before. She lets out a deep sigh of content as she feels the all too familiar sensation of Raven’s fingers lightly scratching their way through her hair.

And suddenly…

It’s gone.

Or at least It’s temporarily crawled back into the deep, dark recesses of Octavia’s core until It randomly decides to re-emerge once again and wreak havoc on every inch of her very being.

She can breathe.

How does Raven do it? One simple motion. A feather-light touch of her fingers and presto. Octavia finds herself drenched in a tidal wave of complete and utter comfort.

There’s no other word for it.

Comfort.

That’s always been the single sensation that Raven-- and Raven alone-- evokes in her.

Octavia can’t pinpoint when this became a regular thing between the two of them, but she does remember the first time.

God, does she remember.

It had been the summer before Octavia’s freshman year. Bellamy had just left for college and Clarke, having finally woken up to her blatantly obvious feelings for Lexa, was in Vancouver vacationing with the Woods family at their cottage. This left Octavia genuinely alone for the first time ever. Sure, her mom and dad were around at night and during the weekends, but otherwise… Otherwise, it had just been her.

And that’s when It had begun. Too much time. Time alone. No distractions. Just Octavia and her thoughts. Too many thoughts. Thoughts that made her skin crawl with an unscratchable itch.

Something wasn’t right with her.

But then, one day -- the day that Octavia thought she’s couldn’t take another single second more of It-- Raven showed up. No explanation nor reason. Just waltzed right through the back door, grabbed a slice of leftover pizza from the fridge, and made herself at home.

They had spent that day in the confines of the basement, binging on junk food and old 80s movies. Breakfast Club. Sixteen Candles. And of course, Raven’s all-favorite, Weird Science.

It wasn’t until they reached Just One of the Guys, though, did Octavia notice the shift between the two of them. At first, it was beyond subtle. Somehow Raven had mysteriously moved closer on the couch, closing the gap. Not close enough that they were touching but still...

Still, it was different.

“You could pull that off.” The comment came so seamlessly out of Raven’s mouth that, as first, Octavia almost missed it. Just another throwaway comment of mindless commentary.

But it wasn’t.

Raven’s fingers casually made their around a loose lock of Octavia’s jet black hair, twirling it in a slow, rhythmic pattern. “Ripped jeans, button-down shirt, skinny black tie. Yeah. You could definitely pull that off, Blake.”

“You think?”

“Oh, I know. But you’d have to cut this off.” Raven, then switched to lightly scratching her fingers through Octavia’s hair and like clockwork, Octavia found herself hit with the sudden overwhelming urge to lay down in Raven’s lap. She attempted to fight it for a brief moment, slightly terrified of the unspoken boundary she would be crossing by doing so, but then swallowed down her fears and just let go.

And to Octavia’s surprise, it was met with nothing but warmth. Raven shifted her body, welcoming Octavia’s head in her lap and continued to run her fingers through the younger girl’s hair.

“Eh. I dunno Rae.”

“You should do it. You’d look freakin’ hot.”

A hint of a smile spread across Octavia’s face and for the first time in forever, she felt completely and utterly comfortable. She felt at home.

“I’ll think about it.”

After that day, Raven seemed to always be around the Grifin house. More than she usually was. And Octavia couldn’t help but love it. There was a natural ease between the two of them. A rhythm of sorts. As if…

As if life was merely meant to be this way.

The two of them.

“So you coming to Murphy’s tonight?” Raven’s voice snaps Octavia out of her thoughts and back into the moment.

“Clarke mentioned it, but I--”

“But what? Got somewhere better to be?”

“No,” Octavia quietly replies with a bit of a defensive bite to her voice.

“Come.”

“Rae…”

“Seriously. Come with me. We can be each other’s dates.”

A small laugh slips from Octavia’s lips. “Oh yeah. Finn would love that.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Finn,” Raven responds in no more than a whisper.

Octavia jerks her head upwards in surprise, catching Raven’s chocolate brown eyes and searches for an explanation -- any explanation -- as to the sudden change in mood towards Finn. But there’s nothing there. At least nothing that Raven is willing to offer up at the moment.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“Of course you will, Blake. Don’t you know I’m the best date ever?”

Octavia gives a slight shake of her head in amused disbelief and then re-shifts her body, curling herself up even more into Raven. “Whatever, Rae.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Check again.”

“Ma’am, I’ve already told you--”

“Check. Again,” Lexa says punctuating each syllable, hammering home her point. She stares at the attending nurse behind the reception desk with a cold, penetrating gaze that signifies one thing and one thing only… She isn’t going to back down.

“As I told you already, she’s not in our system,” the nurse responds with an underlying tone of frustration.

“But she will be, right? Once they bring her here,” Clarke chimes in, moving closer to Lexa as she does.

“Yes. The ambulance radioed in ten minutes ago. They’re bringing everyone here.”

“Everyone?” A look of confusion sweeps across Clarke’s face at these words.

“One DOA. A critical. And one stable.”

“DOA? Who’s the DOA?” Lexa's voice starts to break ever so slightly, causing Clarke to instantly move closer, but not too close. Just enough.

“I’m not at liberty to--”

“It’s my sister!”

“Lex.” Clarke crosses the line and places her hand down gently on Lexa’s forearm. The small but noticeable touch does the trick, momentarily grabbing Lexa’s attention. “Let’s go find my mom, okay? If she’s not here, then we can track down Jackson. One of them will be able to tell us what’s going on.”

Lexa doesn’t respond, but instead, sinks into Clarke’s touch, as her stoic rage quickly dissipates. She willing lets Clarke lead her away from the reception desk and towards a set of doors on the other side of the waiting room.

O watches the entire scene unfold before their eyes, tucked away in an isolated corner of the room, like an all too eerie case of deja vu.

Surreal.

It’s the only word that comes to mind. And even then it doesn’t feel quite adequate enough to describe what’s transpiring right in front of them.

Lexa.

Clarke’s Lexa. The one that all but left their sister a broken mess of a human without even a note saying goodbye.

The one that O has grown to loathe over the years as they were subjected to helplessly watch as their sister transformed into nothing more than a ghost of what she once was.

No. Surreal isn’t the right word. But O can’t seem to think of any others at the moment.

Clarke glances over her shoulder, catching O by the eyes and mouths “be right back,” before disappearing with Lexa through the set of doors.

O takes a moment, letting go of a breath of air they didn’t realize they had been holding in and runs their hands over their topknot. They aren’t exactly sure what do with themselves. O parks their body in a free chair and immediately their legs start bouncing at a frenetic pace, fueled by nothing but nerves and caffeine.  

They hate hospitals.

The greenish, sickly hue that all of the lights seem to cast upon every single object and person they touch. The constant chorus of machines beeping in the background. The cafeteria food that makes ramen noodle look like a gourmet meal. And the waiting…

God, the endless amounts of waiting. Unsure of what’s to come next. If--

Suddenly, the all too familiar sounds of the emergency bay doors bursting open cut through the silence of the room, fully grabbing hold of O’s attention. They watch as a chaotic blur of paramedics race a gurney across the room toward the emergency unit while desperately trying to keep the mangled mess of a human being before them alive.

“Move! Carter! Get the cart ready. She crashed two times already on the ride here. Multiple compound fractures collapsed lung on the left side, and possible internal bleeding,” one of the paramedics calls out as they hit the button for the emergency unit doors.

“Where’s the stable?” The nurse from behind the reception desk responds, quickly jumping to her feet to help clear a pathway.

“Right behind us. Broken collarbone and few deep lacerations.”

“Got it.”

Then, O spots it.

The tattered sleeve of a red bomber jacket with a faded Nasa patch. It dangles off the edge of the gurney, having been haphazardly cut from whoever was wearing it, but never entirely removed.

And suddenly…

O’s world comes to a crashing halt. Their lungs claw for air, and their vision starts to blur.

It can’t be.

But it can.

It can because it makes logical sense.

Lexa received a call saying that Anya had been in an accident and Anya is in a relationship with…     

“Raven.” The words slip out from O’s mouth as they helplessly watch the gurney disappear behind the emergency unit doors. They can’t seem to move, let alone blink as the realization fully sinks in.

It’s Raven.

Their Raven.

All O can do is stand there and stare.

[dahmer]

no longer my call

michael just broke up with me. outside, by his car, parked in the red outside our apartment building gate. as I helped him load up bags into his trunk. two of which I packed for him the night before. full of thoughtfully selected clothes, socks, underwear, chargers, books, mail, bathroom stuff, and a journal. the journal is one of those “each page has a prompt question” type pre-made journals. a friend, King, gifted it to me years ago as a birthday gift. most of the questions are about “your partner” and relationship type stuff, sprinkled with some “today made my smile because” sentimental wash. the questions are sort of unfair right now, but many would do him good, in my calculations, since he isn’t talking to anyone or handing out time apart in a healthy way. his words. the journal never seemed needed, but upon digging through my many gifted empty-notepads, journals, and writing mediums, I found that this one has found its place for good use. I filled out the first six or seven entries, outlying “my favorite memories with my partner” and “nice things I’ve done for my partner recently/nice things my partner has done for me recently.” 

for my “nice things I’ve done...” I crossed out “nice” and exchanged “for” with “to,” so I could highlight and overview all the pain and damage I’ve caused our relationship since he found out I was struggling with addiction. He discovered my opiate paraphernalia gear that I began barely trying to hide. It was in my clothes basket in the bathroom, and I knew he noticed I oddly had it pulled out randomly for no reason while entering/leaving the bathroom between showers. it’s like I wanted to get caught. I was near or already felt several rock bottoms, at least in the stages I’m at, and couldn’t stand another day of my addiction. It had been that way for months. a year. since the start. but I couldn’t bring myself to telling him. the shame, the guilt, and the paralyzing fear that I’d lose him. that he’d just walk away without looking back.

sure enough. my biggest fears came to pass. there’s no one to blame but myself. this is all from my own toxic behavior and selfish decisions. he left to his parents house immediately after discovering me using. he waited until I left the methadone clinic to start detox, then took off. that weekend was the hardest. being alone at home, left without the man I love. who has given my support, who has fallen asleep in my arms for almost six years, who has been there for me everyday. but to him, it was all a lie this last year. and as I progress through recovery, I understand that more and more. his perspective and position, his pain and hurt, his distrust and disgust, it’s understandable. he grew up in a clean, upper class, wealthy, one percent little south orange county town, and he’s never had to face any real world struggles. showing support in our relationship always reflected what he inherited from his father: how can I give money to make this all go away. he seemed most upset about my addiction in terms of money. the money i would have had. the money that i took when i needed help with big expenses. the money that’s preventing him from buying a house and progressing in society, moving up the social ladder. i understand all that because i understand who i was dating. always.

and i love him. he’s the love of my life. at least that’s how i feel right now. the last 10 years he’s gone radio silent. before that, we only met up once after he left to his parents house. we went to dinner. where he asked a few questions, and i cried nearly the whole time, answering in total and complete honesty. that level of vulnerability is incredibly difficult. sometimes i resented how he took it for granted. as if it were easy for me, yet something he could never even do himself. that’s what came up. my response to him breaking up with me.

i, firstly, brought on myself. he came by to pick up some things, and grab the bags I packed for him that I planned on dropping off the night before. but once he got wind of me bringing it over and having them brought up through his twin brother’s boyfriend (my appearance and involvement non-existent--simply a gesture), he texted me while on my way last night to say he planned on coming over today to grab stuff anyways, so I don’t have to come by. so it’s “easier on me.” My gesture was about care and concern, not convenience. when I saw he was close to the house today, I packed up my work--grading papers--and went to the coffee shop that’s basically connected to our fancy apartment complex. it’s directly across the small street we live on. “The Walk” it’s called, a strip of shops for our big complex, with the coffee shop being the main staple. you can see it from where we exit our gate from our side of the building. I figured this gives him space in the apartment, but if he needed to chat or check in, I’m right here.

i was frankly delighted when he texted me moments after being in the apartment:

‘Hey I’m at the apartment. What are you up to?

I told him I was at the coffee shop. A short, direct response, but I implied the night before I might go there when he came by if he needed space. He said he didn’t, but I was trying to be diplomatic knowing him and the response of “doesn’t matter if you’re around or not.” He responds with a shorter “For sure.” i wait a few minutes and inform him i’ll swing back to the apartment if he wanted to talk or anything, or he’s welcome to join me at the coffee shop--I’m “at a two seater table.” iMessage never shows he read the text, so I assumed he was busy gathering his belongings. about 10 minutes later and michael appears, asking if he can take the empty seat. no hug or formal greeting, and i almost laugh at the question. “of course.” his eyes glance me over and i detect immediate disappointment. i even point it out quickly, but he dismisses it. i can be a little confrontation. aggressive. but its been 10 days since he’s spoken to me, and before that, little texts that he ended quickly with no intent to maintain dialogue. there were many words exchanged at the dinner date during our last meet--the only one between today and when he left at the start of my detox--but what kept ringing in my ear after that dinner, despite all the kind and ambiguous words were: “I’m still trying to decide if I want to be in a relationship with you.” I know that trust is hard to rebuild, and only able if both parties are committed. i was aware of his doubts, keen to his hesitations of commitments to serious, non-monetary issues, and drowned in the radio silence as of late.

we exchanged basic questions at the coffee shop. his answers were often positive, but felt a little forced. and his face keep drawing this down glare--giving off impressions of disappointment and disinterest. i knew seeing me again would not be all that he wanted. i hadn’t made significant progress at the gym yet, i could be eating healthier, i’m under stress from work, and i’ve been depressed on and off about our situation. on the bright side, i’ve been working hard at recovery. and trying to think about what this is like for him, and be understanding to that. i���ve had to take low dose benzos to fall asleep each night, and regretted that last night because it makes my eyes droopy, and michael always said the one thing he can tell that i’m on by still looking at me was xanax. even though it was the nice before in lose dose as instructed in treatment, i’ll always wonder if maybe that played a factor. the half-life the next day, still dampening my appearance. an appearance already i didn’t feel confident of next to him, with hopes and expectations of this just going all away--as stated during our previous dinner meeting 2 weeks prior.

we asked adult questions. about work. my classes. his family. my family. my recovery, but he jabbed a little mock at me wanting to call it that. he asked if i was still “on methadone,” i tried to explain that this was a treatment option that yielded the highest success rate for some, and i’ve already experimented and failed with others. but i don’t think he likes the idea. understandably. as much as i hoped my sister-in-law, who was coaching him over the phone before he even confronted me, after finding my gear, had explained the positives of methadone. but i know they’re not fond of medication assisted programs, and even though i hoped it would inspire him to research more, which i know his has, i don’t think he’s stumbled upon the vast outdated and bias, outworld thinking of this epidemic. i wish i could show him this HBO documentary I just watched. there was a post short film that discussed recovery options. i quote some stats, about 75% of medication assisted treatments prevent relapse, compared to the 90% fail rate of most other treatment options. a 10% success rate means i’m being smart about how i go about it. but not sure if that translated well.

our conversation was brief. he ended up after about 10 minutes, checking his iWatch several times. the universal gesture of wanting to leave. i offered, but he dismissed that was the case initially. but then said he’d “let me get back to work.” before he left, i mentioned how i wanted to see this film, beautiful boy, on a date. a ‘by myself’ date, but implicated i would enjoy company. the subject matter was relevant to what i’m going through, and one of the rare early screenings happens to be in Irvine not too far from where he lives--opening this Friday. i dangled it out there to gauge interest. he didn’t bite. just noted how “yeah, I think I saw the trailer to that.”  

[more later]

[the-hero-of-queens-blog]

Richie Tozier Needs Love and Protection - A Reddie One-Shot

Hey everyone, I decided to write a Richie Centric Reddie One-Shot because I love him so much. He is my son and he needs love. I’ll also protect Reddie woth my life. Enjoy!

Characters: The Losers Club, Maggie Tozier, Went Tozier, Bowers’ Gang

Word Count: 8389

Summary: Richie Tozier is a wildcard. ALways has and always will be. Now the Losers have to help him after his big mouth gets him in to trouble. Thanksfully, Eddie is there.

(Gif Credit: colinmorgay)

Richie Tozier Needs Love and Protection

Richie Tozier was definitely the most unpredictable out of The Loser’s Club. Most of the losers keep to their schedule and routine. Not Richie. Routine made him itch, feel like he was stuck in an endless loop of uselessness. Most of the Loser’s didn’t get why, but Bev got it. She was the most like Richie out of everyone. Sure she knew when and what not to say and she certainly didn’t have half as bad a trash mouth, but she understood him and why he did what he did. So when Richie didn’t show up to ninth period Spanish class that he shared with Bill, Stan, and Eddie, no one was concerned. Richie was known to ditch class to sneak up to the roof to smoke a few cigs with Bev when they were restless or had what Bev called “the itch”.  , they didn’t bat an eye, maybe if they did, thing would have been different.

The boys left Spanish class, an endless stream of chatter and teasing following them as they rushed to their lockers to get their stuff and leave the school for the three day weekend. They didn’t see Richie at his locker, but they still weren’t concerned. On days that he ditched with Bev, he was usually the first one to their meetup spot, the bike rack. But when they got to the bike rack, they didn’t see Richie or his bike. So the trio waited at the bike rack for the others. Richie could just be with Bev still. Sometimes they would stay behind to finish their stick before heading down. Mike headed over first, he had dropped off his meat delivery early so he could meet the losers at the school. Then, Ben and Bev headed over, laughing about some shitty poem that a freshman wrote about their horse. Still, no Richie.

“Bev, where’s Richie?” Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m not sure, he didn’t make it to ninth?” She asked, not all too concerned.

“N-N-No, he w-w-wasn’t there t-today.” Bill responds, before pecking Bev’s cheek quickly.

“Well, he probably split a while ago. We were on the roof during third period study hall and he said he was thinking of ditching for the arcade.” Bev responds, unlocking her own bike from the rack.

“Trashmouth is probably glued to Final Fight and talking smack to the other nerds that are there just as much.” Stan says, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know guys…” Ben says, uneasy at the idea of just up and leaving without Richie.

“We should just check? With Derry, you can never be too sure.” Eddie, attempting to hide the fear in his voice. It’s only been two months since the events of the sewers.

“If I see one ‘Missing Richie Tozier’ posters I’m killing myself.” Stan says and Eddie glares at him.

“Stan, shut up.” Eddie deadpans.

“I’m just saying, I’m not in the mood to deal with IT right now. I have an algebra ii test on Tuesday!” Stan says, following the group back into the school anyway. He won’t leave his best friend but he will sure as hell complain about it.

The searched the hallways, Richie’s locker, the roof, and even the locker room, but besides the stench, they didn’t find him. No sign of him and no signs of Pennywise. The group was relieved they didn’t find things written in blood or missing posters littered around, but they were still uneasy about not finding Richie. Something about today was just off. But, they just wrote it off as still being off after the events of the summer.

“I guess he just isn’t here?” Ben says, as they’re all stopped in the boy's locker room.

“A-At l-l-least it wasn’t I-IT.” Bill says, relieved they don’t have to deal with that again.

“I don’t like how he just sneaks away without a word. So many things could happen! He could be kidnapped by some creep or hit by a car and bleeding out or dead at the bottom of the Quarry and we would have no idea!” Eddie exclaims, frustrated.

“He just needs to be a little unpredictable sometimes, Eddie. Being predictable makes him anxious. Not that he would admit that, he just says it makes him itch.” Bev says, understanding where both boys were coming from.

“I guess we’ll just see him later; do you think he’ll come around to the quarry?” Mike asks.

“If he is glued to that stupid arcade game, probably not, I’ll just call him when I get home.” Stan says.

“I guess he’s just at Level Three Richie™️ today. You know how he sometimes gets.” Bev says, and all the losers nod their head solemnly.

Richie was not one to show his emotions easily, another similarity between him and Bev. While the others of the group will admit when they are feeling scared or down or just generally upset, Richie will hide it for everyone.

Level One Richie™️ is the most subtle of the three levels. This usually means an increase in his “Voices” and terrible jokes. His famous trashmouth is working in overdrive; every other word out of his mouth is “fuck” or “shit” or occasionally “asshole”. When Rich was at Level One Richie™️ they knew to just let it run it;s course, and not to push him too far.

Level Two Richie™️ was a little bit worse. When he was at Level Two Richie™️ he smoked more than usual and was easier to provoke than usual. Level Two Richie™️ was brought out most by Bower’s gang and sometimes teacher. When people bothered him about his glasses, his loud mouth, his big personality, he would get hurt. Instead of showing it, he turned it outwards. Like Level One Richie™️, he cursed up a storm and didn’t hold back his colorful insults.

But Level Three Richie™️ is a whole new Richie. They’ve only seen it a few times, and they don’t like to. The first time they say Level Three Richie™️ was after their first time in the Neibolt house. Eddie wasn’t there for it, Richie held it in until Eddie’s mom drove away because Eddie was terrified and hurt and he didn’t want to make it worse. But then Bill just had to go on and on about how they had to go back and keep going, ignoring the fact that all of them had almost died, and that if they had figured out that three doors weren’t real a second later, Eddie would have been eaten. Richie exploded, he screamed at and pushed and shoved Bill. He had to be held back by Mike and Stan when Bill punched him for calling him out on his bullshit.

The second time was when Bower’s gang was trailing the loser’s club with his car and he was saying shit to all of them, and they all let it roll off their backs. But Richie’s at like Level Two Richie™️ because he has no time for Bower’s gang and he doesn’t like when they say shit to his friends, so he says shit to Bowers. So, to retaliate because Bowers hates being made to look a fool, he just attacks Richie. He goes in on how no one likes Richie, not even his family, and how fucked up Rixhie’s parents are. This sets Richie off and he is at full blown Level Three Richie™️, he lunges into the car, and starts dragging Bowers out of the movie car. He’s punching him and just losing his shit. The losers are trying to hold him back and Bowers’ gang is trying to drive off. Honestly, seeing Richie freak out like that freaked them all out, because even when he was at Level Three Richie™️ with Bill, he wasn’t anywhere near as bad as that. Richie had to leave because he was upset and couldn’t handle being near anyone, so he spent the night at the arcade.

The third time Richie is at Level Three Richie™️ is when Bowers’ gang lock Eddie into a gym locker. Everyone knows Eddie hates germs, it’s been ingrained into him since he was a toddler. Even after he knows he isn’t sick, it’s just anxiety; the germs still freak him out. So he was freaking out and in the middle of an attack. Richie, who was coming to smoke, walked in on what was happening and once again lost his shit. Bowers’ gang know that Richie is a scrawny kid they could easily pummel, but seeing that much rage is off putting at first. So, once again, it ends with Bowers’ gang rushing off with vows for revenge. This time, Richie cools down quickly, more focused on helping Eddie out of the locker and to breath normally than on his own anger and frustration.

Level Three Richie™️ is not someone to mess with. They all know this. So when Richie is at Level Three Richie™️, they know to stay away and let him cool down in peace.

“L-L-Let’s just h-head to t-t-the Q-Quarry.” Bill says, and so the group leaves.

The group almost forgets Richie randomly  disappeared earlier. They hang out at the Quarry, seeing who can throw rocks the farthest into the water, playing stupid games like tag and manhunt (aka a more adult feeling hide and seek), and just having fun. But it does feel strange that the loud and sometimes obnoxious voice of Richie wasn’t talking trash and attempting his “voices” that seemed too like his own to be a real impersonation.

Eventually, they all go their separate ways for dinner, but no one forgets about the missing loser. When Stan gets back home, his mom is still finishing up dinner, so he decides to call Richie quickly to see how he was doing. The phone rang six times, almost going to his answering machine before Ms. Tozier answers the phone.

“‘Ello? Who’s it? Is eighclock and ‘m tryin ta watch Snoopsss.” Richie’s mom’s speech is heavily slurred and it’s hard for Stan to even understand.

“Uh, hi Mrs. Tozier, is Richie there? I just have a quick question?” Stan asks

“Richieeeee, Richieeeeeeeee! The phone, Richieeee! ’m trying ta watch Snooppss Richieeee.” Richie’s mom moans out Richie’s name throughout the house. In the background, Stan can hear Richie’s dad yelling in the background.

“Maggie stop your screaming! It’s so goddamn annoying! Kid’s not here!” Richie’s dad says, making Stan furrow his brows.

“He’s na ‘ere. Bye.” Mrs. Tozier mumbles out

“Well, can you tell him-” Stan is cut of by the line clicking.

“-that Stan called…” Stan mumbled the rest, but before he could think to call the others, he is called to dinner.

The next day, Richie is still MIA. Bev, Bill, and Ben all go to the arcade to see if anyone has seen Richie since friday. No one has, the last time anyone saw him was in school on Friday. They leave the arcade more frustrated than they had been when they arrived. Eddie, Stan, and Mike have insufficient results. They all went to the movies, if Richie wasn’t at the arcade or with them, he was at the movies. They had a student discount so instead of paying four dollars per movie, he only had to pay a dollar. But, the clerks said that they hadn’t seen him at the theater since Wednesday. They didn’t understand where Richie would be, even after being at Level Three Richie™️, he would be fine after a day. It was unusual for him to simply drop off the face of the earth.

Thankfully, it was Saturday. Saturdays were the Loser’s Clubs favorite night. That was when they had their weekly movie night. The person who got to pick the movies rotated on a weekly basis. They would rent three tapes and everyone had to watch no matter what. They would make a ton of buttery popcorn, eat a ton of candy, and drink soda until their stomachs ached. They would all sleepover Bill’s house, who had the biggest living room and whose parents were glad the house was filled with sound again. They always had a ton of fun. They would play truth or dare and never have I ever and had over the top pillow fights.

So, they all, one by one, arrived at Bill’s house by seven. The last one to get there was Mike, since he lived the furthest from Bill’s house. They waited for Richie, assuming he was running late. As the time passed, however, they got more and more concerned. They waited in silence, the chattered had slowly died out as time went on and their worry grew, for two and a half hours. By 9:30, Richie still hadn’t shown up. Never once, no matter what mood Richie had been in, has Richie missed a movie night. It just simply wasn’t allowed; their movie nights were sacred.

“Okay, I’m freaking the fuck out now!” Eddie yells, startling everyone.

“He’s never missed a movie night! Even when Bowers threw his bike into the barrens, he made it to movie night. I don’t get it…” Ben responds.

“Something about this just seems...off?” Mike adds.

“Richie wouldn’t just up and ditch us.” Bev says with certainty.

“I tried calling his house yesterday, when I got home for dinner. His parents said he wasn’t home before they hung up on me.”

“You don’t think-” Ben starts to say before Bill cuts him off.

“N-N-No, i-it can’t be.” Bill says, and no one thinks to question it.

“Well, then where the hell is he? No one has seen him at the arcade or the movie theater or at home!” Eddie yells, the conversation only making him more frustrated and scared for Richie.

“Maybe we missed something at the school. There could be like clues to where he could be that we missed because we were too busy trying to prove it wasn’t IT.” Bev says.

“W-W-Well, w-w-we can’t go n-now. My p-p-parents w-w-would be p-p-pissed. W-We’ll go in t-t-the morning.” Bill declares, and the group nods.

Bill was right, they can’t do anything now. They try to watch the movies that Stan had brought, but no one could get into it. They were all off and on edge, worrying about Richie. Eventually, they all fell into light and restless sleeps only to wake up at nine in the morning, all ready to find their friend. It’s Bill’s idea to visit Richie’s before heading into the school; it was on the way and it couldn’t hurt to try. They all stood on Richie’s sketchy porch that looked as if the rotting wood was going to give out at any second. Richie’s dad answered the door, and as soon as the door opened, the stench of booze and cigarettes and BO and vomit hit them like a brick wall. The blinked quickly to fight off the stinging in their eyes, but tried to remain as neutral as possible as to not upset the temperamental Went Tozier.

“Hello, Mr. Tozier! We were wondering if Richie was around?” Bev says, using her sweetest voice, the one she uses to manipulate adults.

“You want the kid? I have no clue if he’s here.” Mr. Tozier says with a scowl.

“Maggie! Have you seen the kid?” Mr. Tozier yells over his shoulder to the woman slumped over at the dining room table, a bottle of vodka to her left.

“Went shut up with all the yelling! I’ve got a migraine that’s killing me. How should I know where the kid went? Not my problem.” Mrs. Tozier says before she pours herself a glass and knocks it back.

“When you find him, tell him he owes me cigarettes, he was supposed to pick them up yesterday.” Mr. Tozier says, and before the kids could say anything else, he slams the door.

“Wow. Just wow.” Mike says

“I knew they were asshole but…” Ben adds

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie says, obviously pissed.

It wasn’t a secret that Richie didn’t have the best home life, but terrible. His parents didn’t even notice or care Richie was missing for two days. This only made the losers want to find him more. They remembered the fear on his face in the Neibolt house when he saw the missing poster. So, they quickly rode their bikes over to the school, all of them sending out a silent prayer that this whole thing was one elaborate prank orchestrated by Richie and they can all punch him in the arm for it. But, it wasn’t like Richie to scare them like this, maybe a jump scare or something, but nothing that would remotely remind them of IT.

So, once again they searched the halls and the classrooms and roof. But, once again, there was not a single trace of Richie anywhere. His bike wasn’t locked to the bike rack and nothing looked out of the ordinary. The losers were at a loss.

“Where could he be?” Ben says.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Where else would he be?” Mike adds.

“We’re missing something…” Bev says, her brows her furrowed.

“What was the last place anyone saw him?” Stan asks and they all take a moment to think.

“K-Kristen Mc-c-cCall saw him in p-p-painting class fifth p-p-period?” Bill says, but Eddie shakes his head.

“No, Larry Johnson saw him go into the locker room after gym eighth period. That’s the last time anyone saw him, since he didn’t show up to Spanish ninth period.” Eddie says, figuring it out.

They all rush to the boy's locker room, and once again the smell hits them like a brick wall, except this time it’s so much worse than it had been on Friday. It smelt like a terrible mix of BO, piss, and trash. They’re eyes widened in horror; what the hell happened?

“What the-” Stan starts but Eddie shushed him quickly.

“Quiet, I hear something!” Eddie whispers and they all go dead silent.

At first they think they’re imagining it, but then they realize they’re hearing ragged breathing and the sound of someone lightly hitting a locker door. Their eyes widen and they begin to frantically search for the source of the noise. Of course the locker room had to be huge, and each locker smelt terrible, so it was hard to figure out which one was the one they were looking for.

“Richie?”

“Richie, where are you?”

“Come on, Richie, talk to us!”

“Guys, over here!” Ben yells, and all the losers flock over to him.

They stare in horror at the locker. It big black lettering reads “Bucky Beaver”, the sounds of harsh breathing and shaking is louder. The terrible smell of piss and trash is much stronger than at the door, and it’s making all their eyes water, Stan is even holding his nose.

“I tried to open it, but it’s locked!” Ben says, his voice panicked.

“How are we supposed to get him out? The janitors don’t come until tomorrow!” Eddie yells and he swears his stomach is made of ice. They need to get Richie out of there now. They have to.

“I got it!” Bev says, pulling out the bobby pins holding her curls out of her eyes.

They all sit for what feels like hours, waiting anxiously as Bev goes to town on the lock. She twists and pulls and pushes the pins inside the lock, they’d probably be impressed if they weren’t so terrified. After what was probably less than a minute, they hear the lock pop and Bv pulls open the locker door to a heartbreaking sight.

Inside the locker was Richie. He was covered in what looks like multiple trash bags worth of garbage. He stunk of piss, obviously from being stuck inside the locker for over 48 hours. His already pale skin looked almost see through, so pale as if someone drained him of all his blood. His breathing was coming out ragged and shallow. He had duct tape covering his mouth and it looked like his hands were bound behind his back. The sight broke all the loser’s hearts, making them want to cry. Stan had tears pooling in his eyes, and Eddie could feel his own eyes stinging with unshed tears.

They all froze for a moment, not knowing what to do, how to approach this. It was obvious that Richie was freaking the fuck out, but so were they. Bill was the first to approach, as the not-so-unofficial leader of The Loser’s Club it made sense he was the first to approach.

“R-R-Richie, w-why don’t y-y-you g-g-get out of the l-l-locker.” Bill says, reaching out to help Richie out of the locker, but it only made things worse.

Riche burrowed himself deeper in the locker, desperate to get away from Bill. He also began to scream, they were muffled by the duck tape but it didn’t help calm his friends down.

Bev tries next, her and Richie had gotten close since she joined The Loser’s Club. She thought that she might get through to him. But like the Bill, she failed too.

“Richie, calm down. It’s us!” Bev yelled, but Richie’s screams only got louder. He seemed to be yelling something but it was impossible to tell with the duck tape. Eddie wanted to cry just looking at him.

Next, Stan decided to try. Stand and Richie had been friends since they were kids, their parents had been friendly when they still bothered to go to temple, before they stopped bothering to keep up appearances, and pushed the two boys together.

“Richie, listen, it’s just your-” Stan got as close as the in front of the locker, a hand on Richie’s arm when Richie got even worse.

Richie kicked Stan away, slamming him into the lockers across from the one he was in. He had started to cry, fresh tear tracks joining the dried ones on his face. Mike grabbed Stan off the floor and helped him up, they all looked terrified, unsure how to help Richie without getting hurt.

They can all clearly see on his face, that Richie has no idea what is going on. It looks like he doesn’t realize it ’s them and not whoever put him in the locker. His eyes have a look eerily like Bev’s when IT put that weird fear spell on her. Richie’s breathing was getting worse, if he didn’t calm down soon, he was going to pass out.

Eddie looked at Richie and could feel his heartbreaking. Here was Richie, who did everything for his friends, even standing up to a child-eating evil demon clown multiple times, is having a full fledged panic attack. Suddenly, Eddie is struck with an idea. Eddie has panic attacks all the time! It was the actual source of his “asthma”, he knew exactly how to handle this.

“Guys, back up! I know what to do!” Eddie whispers loud enough for the losers to hear but not to startle Richie anymore.

“Richie, it’s your friends. It’s just us, you’re safe.” Eddie says in a voice softer than the losers had ever heard, slowly making his way to the side of the locker instead of in front of it.

“Richie, it’s Eddie. You’re okay now, it’s going to be okay. You’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you. We’re gonna help you.” Eddie continues to soothe Richie; he doesn’t touch him or overwhelm him at all. He simply speaks softly.

The best part is it���s working. Richie’s breathing is starting to slow a bit, not fully to where they were comfortable, but he didn’t seem like he’d pass out any second. He also stopped screaming, just seeming to mumble something under the tape.

“You’re okay, Richie. The whole Loser’s Club is here to help. We’re all here. You’re safe now, we got you. I got you Richie.” Eddie says, and Richie’s eyes seem to clear and not look so much like a cornered animal.

“Richie, you’re going to be okay. Can I take the tape off your mouth, Richie?” Eddie asks and while Richie doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t react.

Eddie decides to take a chance and slowly pulled off the tape, mostly slick from Richie’s spit. Richie doesn’t lash out or panic, only starts to breathe out of his mouth.

“Richie, we’re all here with you. I’m gonna need you to try and calm down you’re breathing. You’re safe, okay.” Eddie says, trying to get Richie out of his panic attack, but it doesn’t seem to work on helping his breathing.

“Okay, Richie you’re still struggling with your breathing. I have something that can help you breathe better. Do you want to try ?” Eddie asks, the rest of the loser simply watch the interaction.

At first, Richie doesn’t respond, and Eddie worries Richie is still too far in his head, but then he nods stiffly.

“Okay, we’re gonna use my inhaler. I’m gonna hold it for you. All you have to do is breath in when I count to three, okay? Can you do that for me, Richie?” Eddie asks, and Richie nods again, taking less time to process.

Eddie pulls out his inhaler out of his fanny pack, now using it for anxiety instead of actual asthma. He pulls off the cap and softly places it between Richie’s lips, not wanting to startle him and cause him to revert to his panic.

“Okay, on three Richie. One... Two... Three.” Eddie says, and he pushes on the inhaler as Richie breathes in the puff.

After he breathes it in, Richie’s wide eyes shut and Eddie puts away the inhaler. Richie’s breath calms down and he starts to breathe normally.

“Good job, Richie. Now, do you want to get out of the locker? I’ll help get your hands free. You’re safe here. All your friends are here, okay.” Eddie says, and Richie opens his eyes, much more alert than before but still full of tears, and nods his head.

Eddie lightly grabs Richie’s bicep and leads him out of the locker, making sure to keep his visual field clear so he doesn’t feel trapped. Richie steps onto the floor, his legs shaking violently. It’s only then that they realize he’s been standing for days. Eddie realizes Richie isn’t going to last longer standing.

“Riche, why don’t you sit that why you don’t pass out and rest your legs.” Richie nods and Eddie helps him to the floor without him collapsing.

Now that Richie is sitting, they can see his hands tightly bound with more duct tape behind his band. His hands are blood red from him struggling against the tape, and Eddie can even see some blood were the tape chafed his skin. If he wasn’t set on helping Richie he’d find who did this (even though he was a strong idea who it was) and kill them himself.

Bev hands him her pocket knife, and he doesn’t even question it, saving that for later. It just gently cuts off the tape, making sure not to accidently nick Richie. Once he pulls off the tape, he places Richie’s hands in his lap. It’s then that Richie understands what’s going on.

“Guys?” His voice cracks and sounds like he’s going to lose it.

“We’re here Richie.” They say, matching their pitch to Eddies.

“Do you think you can ride on the back of my bike till we get to Bill’s house?” Eddie asks, thankfully that he let Richie talk him into putting pegs on the back of his bike for “a coolness upgrade”.

Richie nods his head, but he makes no moves to stand. He looks hesitant and it breaks Eddie’s heart, he’s scared to even go with his friends.

“It’s okay, Richie. You’re safe.” Eddie says, and Richie peels his gaze away from his throbbing hands to Eddie. Eddie has a soft smile on his without any menace or mischief. So Richie nods again and Eddie gets the message.  

Eddie gently lifts Richie off the ground, wrapping his arm over Eddie shoulder. Eddie may have been shorter than Richie, he could still support his weight. They exit the school quietly, Eddie and Richie lag behind the others, but Richie doesn’t seem to mind.

The bike rides over to Bill’s house feels way too long and way too short for Eddie’s liking. On one hand, he wants to get Richie cleaned up and feed and take care of Richie. He wants Richie to relax and sleep and just feel better. However, Eddie is reveling in how tight Richie is holding onto his shoulders while standing on the pegs. His body flush against Eddie back. He has a slight tremble and he grips Eddie as if he would slip away if he eased up. Eddie didn’t care about the trash and piss and germs the boy is covered in because he’s just so damn close. He feels guilty that he is enjoying this while Richie is freaking out and in pain, but he pushes that away for now.

Once at Bill’s house, they have to treat Richie like a scared and injured animal as to not trigger another panic attack. Eddie coaxes him to use the bathroom while Bill gets spare clothes for him to wear. Eddie waits outside the bathroom door like he promised. Bill hands Eddie the clothing and joins the others downstairs, giving Richie his space. Eddie is content on just waiting outside the door until Richie is done using the bathroom and showering until Richie speaks.

“E-Eds, can you come in?” Richie asks and his voice is uncharacteristically soft that for a moment, Eddie thinks this must be a clone. But he shakes that idea from his head and enters the bathroom. Richie is standing in front of the shower in just his underwear, he looks uneasy and like he is afraid of what Eddie is going to say.

It takes all Eddie’s willpower to not gasp. Richie’s underweight frame was littered with nasty purple bruises. He was fiddling with his fingers and refusing to look Eddie in the eyes.

“Are you okay, Richie? Do you need me to do something?” Eddie asks gently and can coax an answer out of Richie.

“Can you… Can you stay in the bathroom while I shower? I don’t want to be alone…” Richie answers, his voice is heavy with shame.

“Of course Richie. I’ll wait right here with your change of clothes. It’s not a problem.” He responds, and Richie lets out a breath he must have been holding.

Richie turns his back to Eddie and turns on the hot water for the shower. After giving it a moment to warm him, he turns just a fraction to see if Eddie was looking at him only to see he was staring at the door with a bright red blush on his face matching Richie’s own. Riche quickly finishes stripping and enters the warm shower. He lets out a quiet little moan at the soothing feeling if the water on his tense, aching muscles that makes Eddie’s own blush deepen.

Richie spends a long time in the shower, scrubbing his scalp with Bill’s mom’s fancy shampoo and condition, making his hair smell like strawberries. He scrubs his body with a body soup that smells like vanilla, and after a few rinses and repeat cycles, he smells like strawberries and cream. The smell of trash and pee is gone, even Eddie can’t smell it in the bathroom anymore. He uses the extra toothbrush that Bill gave him and scrubs his teeth three times. He normally isn’t this intense with his hygiene, but being in that disgusting locker made him feel so gross. It took longer for him to feel normal again.

Finally, after an hour, Richie finally turned off the shower water and grabbed the soft towel from the rack. When Eddie sees this, he places the clothing, a soft, baggy sweater that may have been Bev’s and a pair of shorts that may have been Eddie’s. After so many sleepovers, Bill had a collection of the losers’ clothes piling up in his room. His mom washed and folded them but they always forgot to take them home with them again. Eddie once again stared at the door, not wanting to invade Richie’s privacy, sure he’s since him naked and in his underwear before, but Richie was so vulnerable now.

“I’m good.” Richie said quietly, and Eddie looked up and choked a bit on his spit.

Bev’s gray sweater was big on Richie, she was taller and was actually a healthy weight. The sleeves were past his fingertips and the collar hung loose, exposing his pale collarbones. The shorts, which were Eddie’s, were also loose on him, having been old and stretched out from trying to clean it himself and doing it wrong. Eddie’s mind short circuited at the sight. Richie looked so soft and cuddly that Eddie just wanted to hug him so tight, scared he’d slip away. But now was not the time for that, Eddie. Richie is looking for help from a friend. Get it together. He catches his breath and stands up.

“The other losers said they’d make you some food while you showered. You must be starving.” Eddie says, helping Richie down the stairs, still weak.

“Yeah.” Richie says softly, not making a joke to go along with it. Eddie frowns, wishing his friend could just be fine. But that’s not how the world works.

When they get downstairs, both of them are surprised by the set up the losers made while Richie showered. On the couch was a huge nest of soft blankets and puffy pillows. On the coffee table was a bowl of soup and a mug. Bev was holding the boombox, playing one of her many mixtapes. Riche just gapes at the sight, and Eddie must whisper for him to sit.

“I know it’s not much, but we thought it’d help.” Bev says softly.

“I made a blanket nest so it ’s comfortable.” Mike says, his smile was so sweet it gave Eddie a cavity.

“I made some soup on the stovetop, it’s just chicken noodle, but it’s my favorite.” Ben adds pointing to the bowl.

“I made some of my mom’s tea that she makes whenever I’m sick. It tastes good and makes you feel a million times better.” Stan says, and Richie and Eddie can smell the sweet tea from the couch.

“And I’m playing the mixtape I listen to when I’m upset. It helps a lot when I’m in a bad mood and I know you like these songs.” Bev says, and Richie has a small smile on his face.

“Thanks guys. This means a lot.” Rich says.

“D-Don’t w-w-worry about it.” Bill says.

Eddie starts to move towards the kitchen but Richie’s head snaps towards him.

“Where are you going?” Richie asks, fear in his eyes breaking Eddie’s heart.

“I’m just going to get some stuff to clean your wrists from the kitchen. They’ll get infected if you leave them.” Eddie says, guilty to leave for just a few seconds but Richie nods.

Eddie returns in record time and gets to work disinfected and wrapping Richie’s wrists and hands with gauze. He works in silence, and besides the soft music playing in the background, no one speaks. They don’t know what to say. They want to ask what happened, but they don’t want to get Richie worked up again. Eddie goes to stand and give Richie room when he finishes but Richie grabs his shirt sleeve and tugs, pulling Eddie closer. They’re full on cuddling now, and Richie doesn’t care and Eddie can’t seem to make himself. It doesn’t matter that all their friends are there because Richie is holding Eddie and Eddie is holding Richie and Richie wants Eddie to hold him and he wants to hold Eddie.  

Bev, being the most blunt and brave of them all, breaks the silence and asks what they all are desperate to know.

“Richie, we don’t want to scare you, but what happened.”

Richie’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t panic. He takes a deep breath, before starting his story.

“Well, it was after gym class…”

Richie was glad gym glass was over, he hated gym. He got all sweaty and out of breath easily and he’d rather be in math class or Spanish. He was good at those subjects. Sure, he got A’s in gym, but it was a lot more work and none of the other losers were in this class.

He stayed behind to help his gym teacher clean up the gym so he could wait it out till the locker room was empty. He entered the locker room, and when he saw it was empty, he opened up his locker and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. The main reason he hated this class was the fact that he shared it with-

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky Beaver!” Patrick Bowers says in Richie’s ear, causing him to jump up and drop his cigarette.

Riche is grabbed by two of Henry’s goons, Vic and Belch, who twist his arms behind his back. Henry’s other followers, Peter, Moose, and Gard circle around, blocking any means of escape for Richie. Fuck.

“How you feeling now, Bucky Beaver?” Henry asks, his voice dripped with maliciousness.

“I was doing better before your ugly fucking face showed up!” Richie retorts, earning him a punch to the gut.

“Do you think you can run your mouth right now?” Henry yells, punching Richie again.

“Well, your mom seemed to enjoy my mouth last night!” Richie yelled again, only adding to the blows.

“Do you forget who you’re talking to?” Henry says, his gang laughing and egging him on.

“I can never forget you’re ugly fucking face, Bowers!” Richie yells again, unable to hold back the words.

“You just can’t help that trashmouth of yours can you? Well, maybe this’ll teach you to keep it shut!” Bowers yells, and Moose pulls a roll of silver duct tape from his bag.

“Wait, what are you doing? Stop!” Richie screams but is cut off by tape covering his mouth painfully.

“This is gonna teach you how to play nice with others, Bucky Beavers!” Bowers tapes Richie’s hands together, shoving him into his open locker.

“Don’t worry, we have more! Time for the finishing touches!” Bowers yells, and without Richie realizing being too caught up in being taped up, the others now had bags of trash.  

They dumped all the trash on Richie, not giving him time to see or breath. Before he could react, the locker door is shut, locking Richie inside.

“Have a wonderful weekend pissing your smartass in that disgusting locker, Tozier!” Bowers yells, but Richie doesn’t hear him. Bowers slammed the locker and smacked Richie’s head, causing him to pass out.

When Richie woke up it was dark in the locker, almost no light was flooding in from the slights near Richie’s eyes. Richie desperately had to piss, but he wouldn’t pee in his pants and let Bowers win. God, he prayed someone came and got him, and soon. But seeing how dark it was, it must be after school. Oh god, Richie thought, I’m stuck her all night! His stomach was grumbling, he hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was getting to him.

Hours passed before the pain was too much for Richie. His legs were shaking violently, if he had the room they would give out. His head was pounding and his body was aching. He couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t hold it. He cried violently, his sobs muffled by the tape, as he pissed himself, urine running down his leg and staining his pants. He was mortified. He almost wished no one would find him because he didn’t want anyone to know he had pissed her fucking pants.

The hours passed slow. Richie had no idea how long he’d been in the locker. Surely, his parent’s realized he never came home and were looking, right? Someone had to be coming any minute.

By the next night, he was terrified. His stomach was cramping so hard he was crying. He was so thirsty, his mouth was as dry as sand. He had given up on holding back from peeing, the damage was done. His memory was muddled, he couldn’t tell where he was or how or anything. When he heard voice, in the back of his mind, he started to freak out. They were coming back to torture him more. God, they were back! When the locker popped open, he didn’t see who it was, not really.

In the distance, he could hear something, a soothing voice. It reminded him of Eddie. But it got louder and louder, closer and it was Eddie. He opened his eyes, and he could see his Eddie was standing there next to locker and he could breathe again.

By the time Richie had finished his story, the soup and tea and glass of water were finished and tear tracks covered his face. Eddie tightened his grip on Richie, which made him calm down a bit, feel safer.

“God, Richie, we’re so sorry! We went looking for you but we couldn’t find you! We should have come sooner!” Eddie says, feeling guilty they didn’t try harder to find him.

All the losers were upset, damn Bowers hurt one of their own. He was going to wish he never messed with the losers. They were all holding back tears, not wanting to upset Richie anymore, who continued to cry.

“I-It’s okay, guys. I probably didn’t help by egging him on.” Richie said in between his crying. And for the first time, Richie did look like he was ashamed of his big mouth.

“Doesn’t matter if you made a dumb mom joke. Bowers’ gang are shitheads!” Mike says.

Richie nods, barely able to keep his eyes open. He was clearly exhausted and crying was helping.

“Thanks guy, you are the best.” Richie yawns out and Eddie continues to rub his back.

“R-Richie, w-w-why don’t y-y-you go s-s-s-sleep in the guest b-bed. T-T-There’s no w-w-way y-you’re going h-h-home like t-t-that.” Bill says with a smile and Richie nods his head slowly.

Eddie helps him stand and leads him upstairs to the spare bedroom. The bed was piled with blankets and Eddie tucked Richie into all of them. Once Richie was in the bed, Eddie goes to go back downstairs, but Richie grabs the sleeve of his sweater again.

“P-Please stay.” Richie asks, not wanting to be alone.

“S-Sure.” Eddie says reluctantly climbing in bed with Richie.

They’re silent for a moment, both hesitating, before Eddie decides to be bold.

He gently throws an arm around Richie, just above the waist. Rich signs softly, cuddling further into Eddie.

Eddies realized his feelings months ago. He was questioning what his feeling for Richie were for weeks before the summer of 1989. But he was sure of it after what happened. When IT started to come out of the projector, Richie had pulled him up and away from the screen, closer to him. He was terrified, but felt a fraction better because he wasn’t alone. When they were in Neibolt House, and IT was about to kill him and Richie and Bill entered the room, he thought well shit, we’re gonna die and I never even told Richie I like him. The thought surprised him, but he knew it was true. When IT was about the kill them, his arm on fire, when he was terrified and confused and hurt, and Richie pulled his gaze away from the monster and onto him, cradling his face, he knew. He felt safer, he knew exactly how he felt. He wanted to kiss him. He had never really thought about someone, but he had to hold back from kissing Richie because Richie doesn’t feel the same and he didn’t want their first kiss to be in a disgusting demon house with an evil child eating demon clown about to eat them.

But after that, he just knew that he loved Richie. Well, a fourteen year old’s version of love. To truly love Richie, he’d have to be with him. But the love was still there. And sure, people all around, especially gay people were dying of AIDs and that scared him. But when he learned he was never sick and everything he’d been so afraid of was bullshit, he decided he won’t let fear hold him back.

Eddie looked at Richie, his hair was soft and curling. His skin was clean, and from this close he could see the smattering of freckles across his cheeks. Were his eyelashes always that long? They reminded him of girls in his class when they wore makeup. For a moment, Eddie couldn’t breathe. Then Richie spoke.

“I left part of the story out.” Richie whispers, stirring Eddie from his thoughts of Richie.

“Do you want to tell me? You don’t have to.” Eddie says, not wanting Richie to feel pressured.

“When I was trapped inside that locker, I felt like I was back in Neibolt house.” Riche says, his voice shaking.

“You’re safe, Richie. We’re never going back there.” Eddie responds, soothingly rubbing soft circles on Richie’s back.

“I know, but I felt so real. Like I was there. I could see the coffin filled with missing posters and a corpse me. I could see all the terrifying clown statues and dolls. It felt so real. I was so scared no one would notice I was missing...” Richie says, his eyes filling with tears again.

“Richie, that will never happen again. You won’t ever go missing while we’re around. That thing is never coming back. I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”

Eddie blushes, realizing he said I’ll keep you safe and no we. But he doesn’t regret it. The

Small smile and light blush on Richie’s cheeks are worth it.

“Thanks, Eds.” Richie responds, finally letting his eyes shut and cuddling deeper in Eddie’s chest.

After a few minutes, they both fall asleep, tangled in each other's arms. Thankfully the both sleep soundly, neither boy having nightmares. They wake up a couple hours later, still cuddled together. Eddie wakes up first. He rubs his eyes a bit and looks at Richie. He looks much more relaxed and well rested than before. He wasn’t as pale, his cheeks maintaining their warm color. Eddie didn’t realize that Richie woke up until his voice, thick with sleep and still a bit hoarse surprised him.

“Enjoying the view?” Richie asks, a soft smile breaking out on his voice. Eddie blushes.

“Enjoying the cuddles?” Eddie retorts, but it’s shot down by Richie.

“Very much so, actually. You’re very warm and soft.” Richie rubs his head against Eddie’s chest to emphasize his point and they both laugh softly.

Uh, thanks for everything, Eds. I was a mess before, and I needed you. So, thanks for helping me and just for being the you that I love.” RIchie says, looking Eddie in the eyes to convey his honesty and meaning.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, he wished those words were meant in the way he wanted them too. He was too oblivious to realize they did.   

“Uh, it’s no problem, Richie. I’d always do it for you.” Eddie says, not understanding.

Their faces were so closer, Eddie could feel Richie’s breath on his face. Why hadn’t he realized just how close they were. Richie was looking Eddie right in the eyes, and Eddie couldn’t bear to look away. Eddie thinks he sees Richie glance at his lips for a moment before looking him in the eyes again.

“Kiss me.”

Eddie barely hears it. He half thinks it was just in his head. No, Richie just asked him to kiss him. He actually asked him to kiss him. He must be dreaming.

“W-What?” Eddie sputters out, his voice also barely above a whisper.

“Kiss me, Eddie. Please? I’ve been waiting for this since I was like, ten.” Richie says, his face so open and vulnerable. Eddie leans in and pressed their lips together.

In all the romance books and movie, they describe it like fireworks or electricity. That’s bullshit. This kiss feels nothing like that. Their lips are a little dry, definitely not enough spit. Eddie didn’t tilt his head quiet enough so their noses are pressed together. Neither one of them know how they’re supposed to move their mouths so they just change the amount of pressure and don’t think. It’s so much more than fireworks. It’s so much better than electricity. They feel like sunshine has pooled in their stomachs. Bright and soft and warm. Eddie has a hand holding Richie’s waist gently, not entirely sure if his hand was supposed to go there. Richie is cupping his cheek, just like he was in Neibolt House, but this was much better.

It felt like hours, but in all reality was about ten seconds, they broke apart. Richie has the softest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. He can feel the smile stretching across his own face, it should be painful but all he feels is amazing. They both go to speak at the same time.

“Eds, do you wan-” Richie says at the same time Eddie says,

“Richie, can we-”

They both stop and laugh. THey laugh because it’s finally happening. It’s mutual and amazing and wow. Once they finally catch their breath, Eddie takes the leap.

“Richie, do you want to go out? Like, be boyfriends?” Eddie asks, he is happy and not afraid of the answer for once.

“Oh my god, yes, Eds. Definitely.” Richie can’t help the blush and smile.

They both smile, and quickly kiss again. This one is just as amazing and even a bit better logistically. They pull away, not going more than a few seconds and Richie speaks again.

“I guess I’ll have to end things with your mom.” Richie says and Eddie barks out a laugh.

“Oh my god, Richie shut up!” Eddie says again and they both laugh.

“I don’t know if she’ll survive the heartache.”

“Richie!” neither one if them stop laughing.

I hope you all enjoyed this long ass one-shot! It started off a small idea and then it got out of hand. But i just love it all so much!! 

Also if you have a problem with Reddie saying it is too “sexual” just know that’s all bullshit 13-15 year old are in relationships! That is normal and healthy! The real reason you have an issue with it is because two boys is seen as sexual aka you’re perpetuating the sexualization of queer people. (Not to be mixed up with NSFW things about children) 

Anyway, this is also on AO!3 so check it out!! 

[dancekickboxcardio]

Hmmmm... 🤔 How do you this?

I decided to write 🖊 my execution of today’s work out 💪🏾 🏃🏼‍♀️ routine. I have been up pretty early and I have not completed my nights 🌃 rest 😌 . Yes, I am going back to bed 🛌 . Surprise 😮, I have no bad hips. I was holding on to the grab bars treadmill. It was a difficult adjustment coming from a three day 📆 sit. I was dragging my feet and a touch lazy. But I did what I need to do to establish a tone. I measured myself. Ah, 📏I should totally do the body stats thing and I don’t mean just weight. The size and proportion. Thick legs 🦵🏾.

I got to catch up with some of my gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾 friends. I asked them about their plans for the holiday 🎄. It’s still two weeks off and yet it is fast 💨 approaching. I am waiting for the week to move along so I have my allowance 💵. I am bad. Vie, can you focus your attention on other stuff. But I love ❤️ shoes, make up 💄, clothes 👗, bag 💼. The sad 😢 part is I am getting essentials. They don’t have to be expensive 💲💲💲💲💲 and I am aware of that. But you have to realize great function when you see one. You totally can realize and be like the price you pay is commensurates the product that you are getting. Even then, I don’t pay retail. However, let’s face it. High end Lululemon is not going to put it on sale 🏷 and really it is a novelty item that I need now. I know I am annoying 😒 . It’s more than durable. Like many things I would like to be reminded that life must be enjoyed 😊 slow. Relish the time spent working on self. How many people do you thing have that? Develop not on the constraints society tells you. You dictate your terms (because you can). Merry Christmas 🎁. I have my water 💦 bottle but I got distracted to making my espresso ☕️ . Someone is training Jajamoose to have yogurt 🍦. I was having my early breakfast 🥞 snack. He loves 💕 it and he’ll be in your face at every turn.

I am not turning on podcast 🎙. But I am painting my nails 💅🏾. I would like to provide my commentaries on pictures 📸 . Artsy farsy. But that defeats the purpose of impressions right. Let’s break it down segment by.

I had a morning ☀️ similar to today. I was up at 600a and couldn’t go back to bed easily. I got up had a yogurt 🍦 and my espresso to jump start my system. I sat in my chaise 🛋 studying 🤓 👩🏼‍💻 American Constitution. I finished the four week lectures which is the equivalent of 1/8 of a semester’s course work. Maybe even less. But the condense materials 📑are nevertheless robust. I am getting a certificate 📜 . I love ❤️ collecting tokens ✨ of accomplishments apart from lipsticks 💄, blushes and eyeliners 👛.

He is sticking with me this morning. It must be the yogurt 🍦. Although he has been extra sweet 😻 lately. Then, I see him bossing his older bro’s around 😆.

I need to change my sheets.

I don’t seem to like the chicken 🍗 that I made. It needs more salt and I would love ❤️ the crispy coating. But I am eating 🍽. I’m not going to throw it away. I saw that duck 🦆 and turkey 🦃 were on sale in the grocery 🛒. But I calculated the cost of an entire weight of meat 🥩 it’s a lot. I chose not to have a gourmet meal 👩🏼‍🍳. I can almost taste 😋 the orange 🍊 glaze. I was prepped early. My Mom interrupted my sleep 😴 for a schedule 🗓 change. It was resolved. I had lunch 🍴 early and at 600p, yes I was hungry 😋 for dinner in my cool down stretches 🙆🏼‍♀️ .

Police 🚔 was in as I walked. He opened the door 🚪. I wanted to see if it was the same officer who took my report. I said hi 👋🏾 to Joe who checked me in. I smiled at the Frozen display. “Let it go. Let it go.” ❄️ I missed K. There was a new gal at the desk. I haven’t started my work out 💪🏾 🏃🏼‍♀️ and my hair is already disheveled. I looked 👀 sweaty 🥵 exhausted too. I sat in the sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️ to literally warm up my muscles. I wanted to take a picture where I was sitting and put the bag 💼 I have my eyes 👀 on. Just being silly 🙃.

I went upstairs and I didn’t take a shot of the inbody. I saw Molly and commented on having cookies 🍪. I wanted to tell her that I had some graham crackers covered in white chocolate 🍫. I tried a little bit restrained. Then, I saw Lane. I didn’t recognize him because he was in regular clothes and he was as I told him going out wild 🌲. I discovered that he was going to California for a competition. I went deep. I was like, “ have a passion for something.” Somehow I was able to complain about my tote 👜 that smelled 👃🏾 like hospital 🏥 after I smelled tea 🍵 on it last week 🗓. I don’t remem the transition. But I bid him good luck 🍀. “California. California. California.” 🎶 OC theme song. Obsessive Compulsive. Speaking of which I forgot to sanitize my mat. Freak out. It’/ cold and flu season and my nose is always running. I feel ok this morning. Thank God. Imma do moderate. No, like what I was randomly 💭 thinking in the treadmill, 90 minutes sustained cardio ❤️. Did I tell you guys how bad I was. My body was behind. Out of condition after not being in the health club for 3 days. As a result it has a steep slope. I mean mentally I wasn’t there. I wasn’t up for it and I didn’t want to weather. It was easy peasy lemon 🍋 squeezy. I decided to do the usual, make it harder but with assist. My hands 🤚🏾 where on the grab bars the entire time.

I actually decided to do moderate Tuesday. I usually charge hard esp that I am well-rested and have the energies ⚡️. I decided to warm up slow and conserve what I have to finish the week. I am not looking at it day by day. I see it in the entirety and make some sort of ways to make sure I completed ✔️ another straight 5 days of 7. Day 2 today. I wasn’t able to fill up all the blanks in my worksheet 🗒because I had no pen 🖊 in the café. I thought 💭 I kept one in my 🎒 backpack. I did back. I am not as sore. I still feel my back legs 🦵🏾 taut. I am thinking 🤔 perhaps it wasn’t the personal training session on the area. It Cardioing the Right way 👟 . My legs are now actually doing the work no hands on the bars. I wished I had a journal 📓. It would be nice not to be laser focus. Be distracted, disorderly and doing output instead on focusing input. Everybody was very aware at how they relate to the space. They were all in attention. Well others stiffer than others. But I smiled 😃 a lot. Ian was there. For some reason he came off strict and nasty mean yesterday. Just yesterday. Impatient? He’s usually the funny 😆 approachable easy going one. I love 💗 the new book 📚. I wanted to take notes on the further reads at the back book 📖 cover. But it was a mind blowing 🤯 topic. I am so eager to follow along. I had bits and pieces. I think 🤔 the Outrace area is pretty cool 😎. There was a girl she hung in one of the grab bars. I was always bad at monkey 🐒 bars. I wondered to myself why I chose the band instead of the TRX things. It came first to me and also I had to make sure I am not whooped the next day. I was ill-at-ease with my forms. Vie, that’s the idea 💡 . I have to make sure I am doing it correctly. I keep on checking my behind and make sure I am not displaying my old Victoria’s Secrets and my moon 🌝 buns.

Ugh 😑, it doesn’t always have to be the same way. Life is not in a well-controlled cog. At least for me. I keep running to the bathroom. Vie, more than the liquids and some fear at the back of your mind your belly. Yeah, I know. At least I get to freshen up and reapply make up. There was this guy who made eye contact with me and lingered. Yeah, I was malicious. Defense. Defense. 👏🏾 I put some lotion 🧴 as my lack of gloves 🧤 makes my hands dry sensitive. Also, the towels are softer and easier on the skin. Yeah, I noticed. Mariah explained to me that they have new towels and soap 🧼. Since we are at it, my water 💦 from the tap taste like peppery. I was like, is it coming from what I ate like lingering taste 😛. Weirdo. That’s my name for Mark Consuelo. I hope 🤞🏾 he doesn’t think me mean and rude and insulting. I am not catcalling him at all. Yeah. Yeah. I am just being nice.

I didn’t get a shot of my area. It was too busy at least to my perception. A lot is going on. Hysterical 😩. Vie, cool 😎 cub. I should take off my headphones 🎧 to stress 😬 me out tension. I like my listening 👂🏾 pleasure. But ok. I’ll work with on earpiece today for the heck. The suave guy waved at me and I was wondering why so I said hi 👋🏾 back. It was at the hallway. He checked in my Dad one weekend. I should have asked for his name for appreciation. I wasn’t in the tally mood because nothing was going right. I had no pen 🖊 to complete my fitness log, the Internet 🌐 is slow, I want to get to the sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️. Did I smell Eucky? It wasn’t pronounced. I wasn’t in a hurry. I had plenty of time ⏱. I ran into my Mom in the bathroom before Dance Jams 💃🏼. I met her in the classroom. I found out the name of my Korean friend and wondered if I am saying it right. I took it easy like I told Shelly. She was at it yesterday. Angie is fun 🎊. I was enjoying 😊 myself like everybody else. You don’t realize that her exercises are high in intensity. Oooh 😯, that last song 🎼 my thighs are on fire 🔥. I was thinking 💭 to hold on, “Strong legs.” I think I saw L’Tan. I was trying to get a leaving selfie 🤳🏾. I thought 💭 I look 👀 a lot like holding it in 😂. Head shake.

I was hungry 😋 before going to bed 🛏 at 1200a. I had fruits 🍍 and it didn’t cut it. What happened to intermittent fasting. But I am feeling the need to eat 🥙. The better part is it’s not sugar. Ooooh, 😮 I want those caramel cookies 🍪 . I also saw essential oils for the total health and wellness practitioner 🙏🏾. What the heck— Hip-pish-ster 👓.

[raybansandcoffee]

In The Heat of Los Angeles: Chapter One: Don’t Wake Me Up (The Hush Sound feat. Patrick Stump)

Here it is! Chapter One of In The Heat of Los Angeles!! I’m so excited to share this with everyone. I also can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks. Just as an FYI this story will be a bit of a crossover of sorts as both Harry Styles and Nick Jonas will play a big role in the story. Nick was the visual inspiration for Nate in London Calling so it’s only appropriate for him to get an actual starring role in this one. :) I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. 

If you want to learn who the main characters are just read up about them here. I will be adding bios on each of the other characters but I figured I’d start with our main group first. 

The door of my bedroom slammed against the wall as it swung open, startling me awake. I had nearly jumped out of my skin and could feel my heartbeat racing.

“GET YOUR ASS UP!” Kammi yelled. My roommate had no boundaries, especially before dawn. Note to self, put a lock on the door and remember to use it.

“Go. Away,” I groaned as I pulled my pillow over my head.

“Nope. No sleeping. We need to get to the gym to start our day. You know you will be happy we burned off the excess energy and nerves before this journalist from LA Mag gets to the office.”

“Why didn’t you wake Ty up first?” My voice was muffled from beneath the pillow.

“Because he didn’t tell me last night that he was excited to try boxing with me this morning.” She sounded like a cracked out Disney Princess, you’d think she was singing and surrounded by rainbows and unicorns.

“I didn’t either.”

“You did through non-verbals,” she said. I felt the bed sink next to me and the covers shift towards the other side of my bed.

“Because I punched you when you were mocking me?”

“Yes. It was your way of telling me that you wanted to join me for boxing at 6:30.”

“No, it was my way of telling you that you were a bitch for saying I was cranky and needed to get laid, while we were in a meeting.”

“Whatever. Now get up.” I pulled the pillow off of my head and turned to look at her.

“You know there are days that I wish I didn’t know you. Do you think I can stick my Pops in a DeLorean and he can go back to the T-Ball Brawl of Lakeview Little League and force him to hit your Dad instead of helping him up off the ground and hitting the other kid?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.” She had the goofiest smile on her face. I couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“Get out of my room so I can get dressed. And since you are so fucking cheerful this morning why don’t you get my shake ready for the drive in to work.” She stuck her tongue out at me and left my bedroom. I pulled the covers over my head when my phone buzzed on my nightstand. It was likely her, texting me from the kitchen and telling me to get out of bed.

Message with Pops You ready for today? As ready as I will ever be to have a journalist follow me and Kammi around for a day. You’ll both do great. Just a little nervous about it. I don’t want to say too much but I also don’t want to appear like I’m a cold bitch who only focuses on her career. You aren’t a cold bitch. The career thing…well you’re definitely mine. I’ll choose to take that as a compliment. Well, how about we do lunch today, you can bring the journalist along with you. You sure about that? If you have to be under the microscope I’ll join you there. Thanks Pops. I’ll see you in the office in a little bit.

I finally drug myself out of bed and went through my normal motions. Pee. Brush teeth. Comb hair. Put hair in ponytail. Put on gym clothes. Get shoes. Leave bedroom. I was like a robot in the morning. Kammi was a morning person and I hated her for it. If it wasn’t for work I’d stay in bed until noon and just work late in to the evening. Okay, let’s face it. Sometimes I did sleep in and work until the middle of the night. The perk of being in charge, or almost in charge as my Pops likes to remind me. I grabbed my sunglasses off of my dresser and put them on. I found Kammi in the kitchen. She was dancing around like a lunatic as she made smoothies.

“How do you function this early in the morning?”

“It’s genetic. Dad was probably in the office by 6:00 today.”

“You are both crazy.” I took the smoothie she handed me and grabbed my backpack and purse off of the ground where I’d thrown them the night before and we headed out the door. “Are we riding to work together this morning since most of our day is being spent on this feature article?”

“Yeah, my whole day is planned with you. And then if you’re crazy and decide to stay I’ll either make Ty and Eliza bring me home or maybe I’ll have a date tonight.”

“Sounds perfect. Let me guess Jonas is in town?”

“He is,” she said in her sing-song voice.

“So now I have to deal with you being hyper perky and happy that you’re getting laid? I’m going to wish that when you moved here that I forced you to get your own place.”

“You won’t. And I might just decide to stay with him tonight. Though last I heard Joe was in town too. You could get laid.”

“Try again,” I retorted. Kammi had been seeing Nick Jonas for just over two years. They had some pretty wacky and opposite schedules so while they loved each other they weren’t sitting down to talk about marriage or even moving in together as far as I knew. They both often tried to set up Nick’s older brother, Joe and I. I was still recovering from my last relationship which had ended about a year ago and last I checked Joe was dating one of the Starks from Game of Thrones.

“He’s hot. You’d at least get a night of freaky sex or something.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to wear out your vibrator,” Kammi said.

“I hate you,” I said as we exited the elevator in our building and started to walk through the parking garage. We approached the section of the garage for our apartment, we paid an additional fee each month for extra spaces. I was definitely my father’s daughter when it came to cars, we both had more than either of us needed. Parked in a row in the garage were my white Range Rover, which was parked next to Kammi’s matching black Range Rover, a signing bonus. Then my black Audi R8 Spyder, a gift I bought myself for my 25th birthday, and my white Jeep Wrangler, though today it didn’t look very white as it was covered in dirt from a weekend of playing in the desert. I’d had a Jeep consistently since I turned 16, Pops knew I needed a car out here and thought it might as well be fun. After climbing in to my Range Rover we were on the road and headed to the office.

“So are you in town this weekend?” Kammi and I often tried to schedule our trips out of town together so that we could go with our assistants, who happened to be our best friends, Ty and Eliza. The four of us had seen most of the world together at this point.

“Probably, though I was thinking of heading up to Malibu Friday afternoon. I know that Pops said he would be staying in the city this weekend so I thought about going up and having a fun weekend on the beach now that it’s getting warmer. Want to join? We can bring Ty and Eliza and have a relaxing weekend before we start our crazy travel schedule that is coming up. We’ve got New York next week and then I have to head home to Chicago after that and will be there for a few days.”

“Heading home for Jonathan’s birthday?” The oldest of my three younger brothers was turning 16 soon.

“Yeah, I’m headed back to be there for the birthday party and I’ve got tickets for the boys and I to see the Cubs while I’m home.”

“Nice. You’ll enjoy being home. You haven’t been in a while.”

“Yeah, probably two months. I know Mom is anxious to have me home for a few days. I might steal Eliza to come with me. I know that her parents miss her and it would be weird if all of us are together for Jonathan’s birthday and she isn’t there.” My mother, Grace, and Eliza’s mother, Marie, had been best friends since college where they were randomly selected to be each other’s roommate freshman year.

“That will be fun. I almost wish I was going. It’s been a while since I had a chance to go see my grandparents.” Kammi’s Dad was also from Chicago so she still had a lot of family in the city.

“You’re welcome to join. I think we are just stopping the jet in Chicago on the way back from New York, at least if you plan on leaving the same day I was going to leave.”

“I’ll think about it. Might be nice to see my grandparents and see your Mom and Marco. And I’m down for this weekend in Malibu. Though, I’m disappointed James won’t be there.”

“Ugh, stop being gross.” Kammi liked to make comments about my Pops, who admittedly was incredibly handsome and a totally lady’s man. But he was still my Pops. “Just bring your boy toy with you and you’ll be fine.”

“Ooo! Boy Toy and the beach, that might be a good idea.” The house in Malibu had seven bedrooms, there was enough space for all of us and then some. Pops had purchased the land several years ago and built this house to exactly what he wanted. The master suite in this house was insane and where I stayed. Pops entertained clients there enough that he used the studio apartment over the detached garage unless he was there by himself, he didn’t want people going into his bedroom and finding client files. This meant I could bask in a master suite that is bigger than the entire apartment Eliza and I shared our junior and senior years of college in Chicago. We were each at different schools in the Chicago area, she was at Columbia College Chicago and I was at Northwestern University in Evanston. My internship meant a lot of time in the city so I opted to live there and commute for classes. It had been fun living in the city with my best friend at that age.

I drove through the city to our office. It wasn’t far of a drive, which was rare in LA. We lived near LA Live which meant under five minutes walking and we were at the Staples Center, perfect for Kammi and her love of basketball. It was under 20 minutes usually and we were at the office. I loved our office, it was an old Ford Motors plant that had been converted in to the most amazing space. High ceilings, amazing windows, and so much space. We had a full gym which put most of the high end facilities in Los Angeles to shame, this one even included a full basketball court. There was a roof top area for employees to enjoy during their day and for the occasional event that we hosted. There was restaurant and coffee shop on the first level as well as a concert venue that we were in charge of. The top floor of the building had several large offices. Kammi and I each had one as well the company’s COO, my Pops, and  CEO, Kammi’s Dad, though he was based out of New York and rarely in our office. Due to the nature of our work and the facility we had people at our front desk 24 hours a day. I parked in the garage and we started to walk in to the building heading to the gym. We made it to the front desk where Suzy, one of our receptionists was sitting.

“Good morning Suzy,” I called.

“Good morning Miss Scarello, Miss Mackin.” She was new and still hadn’t learned that Kammi and Everlee were perfectly acceptable when addressing us. “You have a visitor already this morning.”

“Okay,” I responded. Kammi looked at me confused.

“A reporter from Los Angeles Magazine.” Why are they here already?

“I didn’t think they would be here until 8:00 or 9:00,” Kami said quietly.

“I looked at both of your schedules. Tyberius had put it on your schedules yesterday.” Ok, she is forgiven for not knowing to call us by something less formal because she just pulled out Ty’s given name.

“Asshole,” Kammi and I both muttered under our breath.

“Where are they waiting?” Kammi asked quietly. Suzy gestured to the young woman waiting in the reception area, she was reading something on her iPhone. “Well, okay. Let’s do this.” We walked over to where the reporter was waiting.

“Good morning,” I said as she stood up to greet us. “I apologize if we are late. We didn’t know you’d be here so early.”

“That’s okay. I haven’t been waiting long. Your assistant, Ty, said that you were usually in the office at 6:30 to get a work out in. I wanted to showcase everything you both do during your typical day. He said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Kammi replied. “I’m Kameron Mackin.”

“And I’m Everlee Scarcello,” I added as I shook her hand. She had a cute bag with her, I assumed there was a laptop in there. Probably also a notebook and a dictaphone or something to record any of our answers.

“I’m Melissa Peterson, it’s nice to meet you both.”

“We were going to head up to the gym for boxing. You’re welcome to join us. We probably have some extra stuff you can wear if you’d like to?”

“Oh that’s fine. I don’t need to box with you. I just want to observe and ask you questions.”

“Sounds great. Can we do a tour after?” Kammi asked. “We don’t want to be late to our class. So if we wait you’ll get the full tour and not a rushed tour."

“That works for me.” We headed through the building to the gym. There was an area that had only two floors and one with five. Our offices were in the taller portion on the fifth floor. The gym was on the second floor of the lower portion along with a cafeteria that was more like a five star restaurant and a large meeting area for all company meetings. Once in the gym we put all of our stuff down and started our boxing class. Melissa observed through the whole thing until we both hopped on treadmills to get a run in after. Melissa sat on the space on the floor close enough to hear us while we were on the treadmill.

“So tell me a bit about yourselves. Everlee, why don’t you go first.”

“Okay, where to start. Umm, I’m Everlee Mae Scarcello, pretty much everyone calls me E or Ev. I’m 25, originally from Chicago, Illinois. I’m a graduate of Northwestern University and I’ve been with Scarcello Mackin Entertainment since I was 14.”

“You started at 14?” Melissa asked.

“We both did. We had internships through high school and college. I’ve done everything in this place you could imagine. During summers in high school I’d work the reception desk, I worked in the mail room, and anything else that would give me insight as to how this company worked. Presently I am the President of our Music Division.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“I’m the only child of the marriage of Grace Fazio Ferrera, she is a curator and event planner at the Art Institute of Chicago, and James Scarcello, he is the director of our Los Angeles office, Co-President and COO of our entire company, and one of the founders. My parents divorced when I was five. My Pops relocated here to open our LA office. I have three half-brothers from my mother’s second marriage to Marco Ferrera, he’s a pretty big restauranteur in Chicago. I grew up in this strange world where I spent basically half of my year in Chicago with a big family and living in a house full of loud Italians and a bunch of little brothers. The other half I spent in Los Angeles or wherever my Pops was for work, just the two of us usually. We spent a lot of time in New York as well, which was always my favorite because I got to spend time with Kammi. My Pops has been married and divorced since he and my mother got divorced but I’m still his only child. Pops is one of my best friends, he taught me everything I know.”

“Did you always want to follow your father in to the business?”

“Absolutely. I loved going to work with him as a kid. This business is his passion and it became mine too. We have a lot in common so that surprises no one, especially my mother. When I would come stay with him as a little kid I’d sit at the little desk in his office that was right next to his. I’d take his scrap papers and color on them. By the time I was probably seven I was reading the trades that he kept in there. By 10 I was asking if I could know about some of his work. I’d sit in on meetings with clients and the staff, most thought I was just a kid who had to be there, but I loved it. By 12 I’d surpassed my Pops in a lot of ways when it came to technology. He’s super tech savvy but I was able to take his projects and build presentations around them that were way better than what he had or could devote time to. At 14 when I was old enough to work I started working here. I think it’s amazing that I was able to be part of SME from such a young age.��

“Kameron, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself and how you ended up in your position at SME.”

“Well, I’m Kameron Mackin, but like E, no one calls me Kameron, except my Dad. Everyone calls me Kammi. I was born and raised in New York City and attended school on the Upper East Side. I’m named after my Dad, Cameron, who is the Co-President and CEO of SME. I'm the oldest of three girls, my younger sisters still live in New York. I am a graduate of the University of Kentucky and currently the President of our Sports division.”

“How did you end up in the sports division? Traditionally that is a male dominated area and it’s inspiring to see a woman in your position in that area.”

“I received a full ride scholarship to Kentucky to play basketball. There was speculation that I’d be drafted into the WNBA at one point but I was unfortunately injured my sophomore year of college and was unable to return to basketball on such a competitive level. I also have a love of horses and have competed since I was very young. I’ve won competitions across the US, it’s part of why I chose Kentucky. I was able to keep a horse in some stables in Lexington, I focused on that after my injury. I have interned in a variety of departments within SME just as E has but sports is the division that I took to and was most effective in. While I’m well aware of the fact that it’s a highly unusual circumstance to have a 25 year old woman running such a male driven division I’ve rarely encountered issues with it, especially from the athletes we represent. Often the negative feelings on a woman in my role come from our competitors, which just fuels the fire to be the best in our game.”

“Have you received any backlash, E?”

“The usual stuff. There’s a lot of people in this industry that believe that a 25 year old is still a kid. I often get treated like a little girl, never inside of this company. People on the outside assume that we got our jobs because of our fathers. And while that does play into it we both earned our way here. We started doing the grunt work we would’ve in any other company, we worked our asses off to earn promotions and get to where we are. The goal is that when our fathers are ready to retire that we can step in their shoes and do it just as well as they have, if not better.”

“We will be better,” Kammi said. “We have a better understanding of technology and how the modern age of social media can effect our clients. Our fathers still have to text us and ask us how to do things on Twitter.”

“How does having such a high profile career at such a young age effect your life? Neither of you are married. Do you find potential partners intimidated by your careers?”

“Yes,” we both said simultaneously and started laughing.

“I was in a relationship up until about ten months ago. I’d been in that relationship since I was 18. But we were in different places in life and different places literally. He is doing his residency in New York to be a surgeon. We had made the distance work for several years, we were both students at Northwestern together, he graduated a year prior to me and moved to New York immediately after he graduated. It was tough to make it work because we are both extremely busy. And he admitted that he was intimidated by the fact that I was already so established in my career while he was still working to pursue his. He was much more traditional than I was. He had hoped that I’d accept a job in New York and move there. When I picked Los Angeles things got hard. Even when I was able to go to New York I was working and so was he. I wasn’t able to be the girlfriend that just attended dinner with his colleagues and supported him because I was busy making sure that SME succeeded.”

“I have been in the same relationship for a while and we are both extremely busy with our careers so we aren’t like a lot of our friends who are planning weddings and babies,” Kammi said. “I am okay with that though. I’m lucky that he’s so supportive with my career and I am with him as well. He knows that I’m capable of being both the woman on his arm when he needs one and he can be the man on mine when it’s my turn to be the high powered person. He’s completely confident with who he is and enjoys that I’m focused on my career because he is as well. Driven people are often times able to accept that, but unlike E’s past relationship my boyfriend is lives in Los Angeles when he's not traveling for work and he is able to understand why my job often takes a higher place in my life than our relationship. I think the difference is that he understands this lifestyle as he’s been in the industry most of his life.”

“You're dating Nick Jonas, correct?” Melissa asked.

“Yes, we’ve been together for a little over two years, we started dating when I moved to Los Angeles full-time. But we both understand that our careers are important so we are able to be okay with one of us up and leaving for a while for work. It’s a nice thing to have someone that understands that. We have fun together. Our main priority is being friends. He’s been someone I’ve known for a long time. Having grown up in New York with a parent in the industry I’ve known the Jonas family for most of my life. Nick is my friend before anything else.” I was a little shocked that she openly admitted she was dating Nick in an interview, while it was public knowledge that they were together and had been photographed together millions of times they’d always remained tightlipped about their relationship. I guess until a few months ago when she stared in a pretty sexy music video of his. Hard to deny you’re together when the chemistry on camera could melt TVs.

“Do you hear opinions from people often about your decisions to focus on your career and not do as many people our age do and get married and start a family?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I have three Italian parents.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “That means a lot of Italian grandmothers and grandfathers. It’s expected that a woman should marry, have children and spend her life making a home. That’s what each of my grandmothers did. But my mother is so incredibly driven and successful in her career while still managing to be the mother of four children and have a successful marriage with her husband that it’s inspiring. I know I can have it all because she has it all. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be speed bumps along the way. My mother and father were together for a long time. They began dating their first week in college. My mother has managed to figure out how to have a successful life and marriage. My father well he’s still working on that.”

I knew laughing at my father’s relationship history was probably strange to most people but it was how he and I functioned. A finely tuned skill at self deprecating humor was the sign of a true Scarcello. It was widely known that Pops had been married four times and none of them had worked out past a few years, my mother being the longest marriage as they married straight out of college and got pregnant with me very quickly. His last marriage barely lasted 18 months. When the women found out that he had no intention of having anymore children they tended to run. The rock solid pre-nup and will that left everything he owned to me for some reason hadn’t been a sign that he wasn’t interested in having any more children, but he did tend to marry some clueless women. He had a few of his properties in my name so that he didn’t risk losing them when he inevitably divorced whoever he was married to. And the kicker, I was pretty sure he knew Mom was the best he was ever going to get and was still in love with her. Their marriage was far from great, but he adored Mom even still after years of being divorced and her being happily married for 17 years to my step-dad.

“My Mom is also incredibly successful in her career. I think nearly every year of my life she’s made the list of top real estate agents in New York and a few times the country. She proved to me that you could do anything you set your mind to. I mean did I have a nanny growing up? Yeah, of course I did. But I didn’t know life any different. Every kid on the Upper East Side had a nanny. But Mom was always home for dinner every night, as was Dad if he was in the city. My Mom never missed a basketball game or a dance recital. But she hustled her ass off selling some of the most amazing properties in all of New York. She taught me that you build the village of people around you that help you conquer the world.”

We were done with our work out so we headed up to our office with Melissa. We each had unique offices that were built just for us. We had been in the offices on the Executive Level since we started her after graduation, despite it taking a year for both of us to earn our current positions. Our fathers knew that we would likely face scrutiny from some of our colleagues, but they also knew we were the face of this company along with them. The names on the door. We were the future of this company and belonged at the top. We’d had the cubicles in the bullpen of our office, so when we moved here and took the job we were able to decorate our offices the way we wanted them.

My office looked like a New York or Chicago loft. Exposed brick walls. Huge shelves full of vinyl records and books. The stereo we had put in here was top of the line. Vintage concert posters adorned the walls. Polished concrete floors. Comfy couches and chairs you could just sink in to. The art that hung on the walls had been selected by my mother and included some of the photographs Pops and I had taken over the years while we traveled. My exact words to the designer we worked with had been ‘Give me the Humphrey’s loft from Gossip Girl’. And did she ever. It was eclectic and lived in while still giving off a vibe of the professional environment it needed to be. There was an area that was meant for large meetings with a conference table, white boards, and a large tv. An area that felt more like a comfy living room where smaller meetings could be held and a number of naps had been taken. A space for my desk and work area that was often where I spent most of my day. And an area that felt like the swankiest bar Don Draper would’ve ever seen in his life.

The art piece that meant the most to me was custom made by me and my three little brothers. The wall behind my desk was exposed red brick. The boys and I had painted it to look like the outfield of Wrigley Field. The distance painted on the wall was how far my office was from home plate. We had painted ivy on the wall as well, with the help of Mom. And hanging above where you would expect to see the bleachers was a replica of the red Wrigley Field sign that welcomed fans to the Friendly Confines. There was also a picture of my family, at Wrigley. It had everyone in it. My Mom, my Pops, Marco, and my brothers Jonathan, Mason and Christopher. My family was functionally dysfunctional. And we were all Cubs fans which bonded us together. The photo was taken the day I graduated from Northwestern. Pops had insisted upon taking us all out to celebrate. He’d pulled some strings with some friends and gotten us a suite at Wrigley for a game that night. It was just how I would’ve wanted to celebrate graduating from college. With all of my family, a Cubs game with a W flag appearance at the end, and a few pints of Old Style, which also happened to be the featured beer on tap in my office during baseball season.

Kammi’s office fit her personality perfectly. Unlike mine she had floors that looked like a basketball court. Her desk was made of two glass backboards from the University of Kentucky, being a former player and distinguished alum helped her out as she decorated. Her conference table was reclaimed wood from old bleachers that our designer had found while hunting for the things that would decorate our office. Instead of a bar area, Kammi’s office had a concession area. You could always get popcorn and she often had other concession items like nachos, pretzels, hot dogs, and ice cream cones for meetings. She had a scoreboard replica on the wall with a TV where the jumbotron would be so that she could watch games. During things like the Olympics, March Madness and playoffs for just about any sport the TVs all over her walls came in handy.

Kammi’s favorite things in her office were a testament to who she is as a person. One a photo of her on senior night for basketball at UK. She may not have been playing but she stayed close to the team and they surprised her by having her family there for senior night so that she could walk across the court with her teammates the way she would’ve if she hadn’t gotten injured. She had her old jersey framed beside it. She had commissioned a beautiful painting of the horse she had while growing up that hung above her desk. And then there was the series of photos with her Dad. He’d had season tickets to the Yankees, Giants and Nets will she was growing up. There were photos of them over the years at each sports venue. Moving to Los Angeles had meant that she had grown accustomed to cheering for the Lakers and had season tickets on the floor. The first time she’d taken her Dad he was blown away, not by the seats or the game, but that his daughter wore stilettos to a basketball game and voluntarily cheered for the Lakers.

Our two offices were connected to each other through a large bathroom. There were two steam showers, a huge vanity and a closet made of dreams and stardust. It was what every person wished that had in their home. It was more dressing room, less bathroom. But it functioned as this comfortable place to get ready for a day at the office after the gym or a night on the town after a day in meetings. We had a huge wardrobe of designer clothing, workout gear and shoes that we could pick from. It was also strangely where we got most of our work done. The showers were on opposite ends of the large room but we often were in here post gym shouting at each other about whatever new idea we had or the crap our clients pulled. We’d originally thought we wanted separate bathrooms but realized that having our fancy version of a locker room seemed almost too perfect.

“I need to shower,” I said as we exited the elevator to see Ty and Eliza both sitting at their desks. They had requested that they be near each other so that they weren’t shouting to the other while talking about things. It was fun to have all four of us up here and those two ran circles around my Dad’s assistant.

“Me too.”

“Okay, well this is weird to say but you can hang out in the bathroom while we shower. We tend to be weirdly productive at that point of the day. Otherwise we can set you up in one of our offices if you have work to do and then you can join us as we get do our hair and makeup.”

“I have some emails I can go through so that works fine.” I took her in to my office while Kammi went in to hers to put down her things. I got Melissa set up in the bar area before going in to the bathroom. Kammi already had the music going in here this morning.

“So this is not as bad as I thought but it’s shockingly early to be interviewed.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m going to need coffee when I’m done.” We both hopped in the shower and about five minutes later the door opened and Eliza came in.

“Good morning, girls. Don’t worry, I’ve already told Ty he’s stupid for scheduling your interview to start during your work out,” she said.

“Thank you,” we replied in unison.

“I’ve got breakfast ordered for you guys. Give me your drink orders and I’ll add that. You’ve both got lunch with James and Melissa, your interviewer, at 1:00 per his request. And you have a mystery meeting today that he’s put on your schedule. It’s scheduled for 6:00, which I know is late but he said that he’d also bribe all four of us for working late for this meeting with dinner. He wanted the meeting scheduled when a chunk of our office is gone and when Melissa is done. I don’t know what it is so don’t ask. He refused to tell me when he scheduled it.”

“Pops scheduled the meeting?” I asked. It was things like this that made me happy we had smoked glass as our shower doors because I was super confused and naked but no one could see me as I stopped massaging my scalp mid-sentence.

“Yup.”

“Not Maureen?” Maureen had been his assistant since I was 10.

“Nope, he wanted it to be as private as possible. And technically Maureen is on vacation this week. He has Chloe, that assistant in accounting, this week.”

“That explains it,” I replied as I went back to rinsing my hair.

“The new girl at the front desk, Suzy, she called Ty by his actual name this morning. I was too tired to have a sarcastic response about it,” Kammi called. “So remind me later tonight to make fun of him for not telling her that only his grandmother calls him Tyberius.” Eliza laughed.

“What are your drink orders ladies?” We had a Starbucks in the cafeteria, it was a life saver most days.

“Venti Iced Soy Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. It’s going to be a long day if Dad is scheduling meetings after 5:00.”

“Do we have the s’mores lattes back?” Kammi asked.

“Yes, I had one yesterday,” Eliza said.

“Give me a venti. And grab me a sweet tea too.”

“Alright, I’ll be back shortly.” With that Eliza exited the dressing room.

“Why on Earth is James scheduling a 6:00 meeting?” Kammi asked.

“No idea. He texted me this morning and said nothing of it.”

“Must be something big. Especially if he wants us both in on it.” Our work very rarely overlapped. Athletes didn’t usually make the great musicians. See: Shaquille O’Neal, Deion Sanders, and the 1985 Chicago Bears. And I’m going to be honest, I wouldn’t suggest that many of my clients try to pick up any sports, at least not professionally. It was rare that we crossed in to each other’s territories, especially on new clients. Most of the clients we worked with that weren’t in our division were someone we’d worked with before we got here that we’ve held on to.

“I don’t know. We probably won’t get much of a hint on it either.” I shut the water off and started to dry myself off. I put my hair in a towel and wrapped another around me. I heard Kammi’s shower shut off as I stepped out of the shower. “How am I supposed to know how to dress if it’s a surprise meeting?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I grabbed my cell phone off of the counter and called my father.

“Hey kid.”

“Hey Pops. So this surprise meeting. How am I supposed to dress?”

“I don’t care. Professionally?”

“Pops…”

“What?”

“Well is the client someone who is traditional? Do I need a suit? A dress? Or are they someone who would appreciate a crop top in a meeting?”

“Not traditional. A dress is probably fine. A suit might be a big much unless it’s something not formal and they’d likely enjoy two girls in a crop top, so avoid that.” I laughed, we were still little girls on rare occasions to our fathers.

“Well, you’ll get what you get if you’re keeping the meeting a secret.”

“I figured as much. See you girls for lunch.”

“He says that the meeting would probably enjoy two girls in crop tops and to avoid that. So I vote crop tops,” I said laughing.

YAY! Chapter one is alive, hehe. What do you think?  I’m anxious to hear all about what everyone thinks. As a BONUS I will be posting the first two chapters tonight for everyone to enjoy. What do you think of our four main characters so far? Would you want to hang out with E, Kammi, Ty, and Eliza? Also, who the hell is their mystery meeting with? Will they actually wear crop tops? You’ll have to read Chapter Two to find out!

[megbox]

answering tumblr survey questions late at night like the 13 year old i am deep in my heart

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? Probably. Usually just fun, teasing little things. If anyone was actually salty about my taste in music, I think they need to work on themselves. 

What’s your favorite season of the year? I love the fall. 

Do you have pop-tarts in your house right now? Oh my god I haven’t had a pop-tart in fucking FOREVER. Now I want one. I crave one. 

Is anyone’s birthday coming up? SYDNEY’S omg it’s in like three weeks i am so beyond excited. 

Does someone owe you over twenty dollars? THE BANK. DAMN YOU RBC AND YOUR FUCKING RECONCILIATION COST THAT WASN’T A RECONCILIATION. I’m salty. 

Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? Trevor Kwan. I totally still would, tbh. 

When was the last time you burned any part of your body? Literally this morning I burned a solid layer of my skin off of my index and middle fingertips by accidentally grabbing my flatiron while it was on. 

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? No sir. 

Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? Of course!! That’s a long way off but I plan on having a bangin’ body by then so I will definitely be dressing up. I want to be Princess Peach.  

Have you ever called somebody dollface? I hope not. I’m sorry to anyone I’ve called dollface. 

If I gave you ten dollars, what would you spend it on? I would spend it on gas money because my car is on empty.  

Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? LOL. Imagine if my answer was, “yeah? I do all the time?” 

What are you most excited about right now? A very big life trajectory that I have randomly and passionately decide to throw myself towards. That’s vague but I don’t want to be too specific in case it doesn’t end up working out. But I am infinitely excited about it. 

Does / did either of your parents serve in the military? No. 

Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? I used to be and somewhere along the way, realized that you never really get the recognition you crave for being a perfectionist and you can accomplish lots of things without all the nit-picking anxiety of perfectionism and I lost my edge. 

Do you like sour candy? I fucking LOVE sour candy. 

Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Japan. 

What do you do to stay awake when you’re tired? Coffee coffee coffee. 

Are all nighters something you have grown used to? I have never once been able to pull an all-nighter. I don’t know what it is. 

Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? No, and I probably should. I’m always squinting goddamn.  

Do you wear your shoes around the house? I totally do and I’ll bet my roommates think it’s weird and annoying but it’s just a habit lawllllll I don’t even know where it came from. 

Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? In the summertime. 

What clothes are you most comfortable in? Black tights, casual mini dress. 

Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? Syd. 

What has changed most about you in the past year? My plan for my future career and life, my mental and emotional wellbeing, my level of independence from my parents.  

Are you good at painting nails? No. I suck because I never wear nail polish. 

Smoothies or slushies? Smoothies.

Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? I am AWFUL AT THIS. Seriously so bad. And yet I always try. At work when I am serving tables, I try to fill those gaps with the worst little quips and jokes and sometimes it just sucks so badly. 

Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? HELL no I’d rather rot in the ground. 

Elaborate on a way you have volunteered? Um literally this morning doing research at the CSHC on sexual education and consent education policies for senior citizens in assisted living facilities and particularly whether or not dementia patients can consent to sex. :) 

Do you use a full length mirror daily? Oh yeah honey. I’m super vain. 

Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I love to wear heels though I am a bit awkward in them. 

Any TV shows you sit down weekly to watch? The Bachelor!!!! And America’s Next Top Model. 

Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? Literally all of my close friends.  

Even if you don’t like politics, do you still have opinions on the issues? I think not having an opinion on politics is impossible! I have a lot of opinions that are still kind of shifting and making themselves known and negotiating themselves in my head. 

Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? Always. 

Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? Always.  

Do you ever actually make your bed? Sometimes. It makes my room look a lot more put together. 

Do you make an effort to eat healthy? Ugh no. Well, I go through phases. 

How are things between the person you like / love / are with? We are dancing around the topic of actually going on a real deal date by texting all the time and flirting about innocuous things. So it isn’t really existent at the moment but it’s enough for me because it’s lighthearted and fun. 

Where did you sleep last night? Right here. 

The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? No idea. Can’t remember. 

What year do / did you graduate? 2012 in high school, 2017 for my undergrad. 

What kind of booze did you last take shots of? Something at Ranchman’s the other night. Spiced rum, maybe? Porn stars? I don’t fucking know. 

What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? DRESSES

Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? HAHA yes. Fun times. 

If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose? Bon Iver.

If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? DUDE. A million dollars all the way. You know I’d never be thinking about that regret again cause I’d be too busy yachting in the Mediterranean with all of my close friends. 

Are you taller than your mom? Yeah yeah yeah. 

Have you ever been around someone who was high? Lmao. Many times. 

Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? In the morning. I HATE sleeping with wet hair. 

Think back to June. Were you in a relationship? Not officially but hookings ups were happening. 

What’s so special about what you’re wearing? Absolutely nothing. 

Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? HAHA yes. Yes I do. 

Could you handle living with a male roommate? I think it’d be a little weird. I love living with fellow girls. Unless it was one of my close guy friends. 

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? I was at the Calgary Sexual Health Centre volunteering ~ 

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? Because we don’t speak anymore and we don’t have anything to say to one another. 

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Yes.

What do you miss the most about your past? Having a better body, a more physically active life, and having lots of really special intimacy all the time. 

When is the next time you will kiss someone? Hopefully very soon. 

Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? oh yeah. 

Plan on getting drunk or high tonight? LOL no. 

In the past week, have you cried hysterically? Nope! Not once. Can’t remember the last time I cried. 

Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? Yes I do! 

Are you on birth control? Yes. 

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? Not last night but the night before, yes. 

Last time you were really happy? Honestly? Right now!!!!! It has been so long since I’ve actually felt this good about myself and my life. 

Do you tend to fall for players? I don’t even know how to answer this question. No. But sort of. 

Why aren’t you in ‘love’ with your last ex? For many many many reasons. 

Have you ever asked a boy for advice? Of courseeeeeee I have boys aren’t all useless 

Are you wrapped in a blanket? I am literally wrapped like a burrito in TWO blankets right now how’d you know? 

Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? Lmfao god no me and Sydney stayed up with my work friends until like midnight and then I had to be up early to get ready for volunteering it was a heinous lack of sleep night 

Have you spoken to your mother today? Father? Just via texts.

What is the last medicine you consumed? My birth control a few days ago. 

What’s something you really want right now, be honest? To be alone with a certain someone and be able to finally make a move on him. To succeed on an application I just submitted. 

Do you have any plans for the weekend? I’m working Friday night, getting drunk with Connor on Saturday night, and working Sunday night. 

Will your next kiss be a mistake? I don’t really care. 

What’s your mood? I’m content :) 

What did you do yesterday? Yesterday was my day off so I slept in, woke up and went to Wal-Mart and bought us a new shovel and shovelled our walk. And then I went to a gym and bought a membership cause like wow I really need to get this body back in motion here. And then I went home and napped a bit and then I went to the grocery store and bought snacks to prepare for my guests who came over later and we all just hung out for hours. 

Want someone back in your life? Lol. One certain person but it’s just... not gonna happen and I realize that and it sucks but it’s also my fault and a direct result of a specific choice I made like two years ago so whatever. 

What are you excited for? Next weekend staying in Kananaskis with some hopefully new friends, Valentine’s day dinner with Ali, Sydney’s birthday! 

Do you find it hard to trust others? Not anymore. 

Can you honestly say you’re okay right now? Hell yeah. 

Are you a jealous person? Hell yeah. 

Would you go in public looking like you do right now? I’ve gone out in public looking much worse. 

Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? There’s a few. 

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Nope. 

Missing someone you shouldn’t be? Nope.

Have you ever been heartbroken? Yes. 

Would you ever become a vegetarian? LOL I tried once and literally started having dreams about meat. 

Do you have nice eyes? I have been told that before and I really love my eyes. 

When was the last time you smiled? Now. 

What’s your relationship with the person you last texted? He is my coworker, my friend, and Sara’s younger brother. 

Are you hot or cold right now? I’m hot. 

What time did you wake up this morning? Ughhh like 7:45am it was brutal. 

Do you have a bad temper? Yessss yes I do. 

Do you think you’ll be married in 10 years? Oh man I hope so. 

Do you care if people hate you? LOL okay I used to really really really care but I’ve honestly kind of stopped caring about being likeable to every person because I’ve realized that REALLY, when a person “hates” you how much time are they actively spending thinking about you and thinking about all your flaws? Probably not that much. 

Has a song ever made you cry? Lmao many times I am a sucker for sad, beautiful music. 

Does anyone love you? Yes!!! Lots of people. 

Where will you be 12 hours from now? Probably in this bedroom getting ready to go to the gym cause I have my “free personal training session” plz  KILL ME. 

Is it easy for people to make you smile? Sometimes. If I’m in the right mood. 

Is your current hair color your natural hair color? Noooo. 

Have you ever gotten in a car by yourself with people you just met? Well... every time I’ve taken a taxi. 

Last person to kiss you on the head? My ex. 

Do you ever get good morning texts from anyone? On occasion. They make me happy. 

What were you doing friday night?  I went to the Dierks Bentley concert with Steven and Amanda, and then met up with Sara, Cayley, Harper, Alex and Brad at Ranchman’s afterwards and we fucking danced and took shots and had a wild evening.

If you could see one person right now, who would it be? OLLIE

Would you rather choose truth or dare while playing “truth or dare”? Truth. I like knowing what people want to know about me. 

Do you like to hold or be held? Be held plz. 

Has anyone made you feel like crap lately for something they did? Nope. 

Where did you last sleep other than your own bed? My old bedroom at my parents’ place - HAHA boring. And before that, Ali’s bed! 

Who was the last person to send you a text message? Alex. 

Ever kissed a Jessica, Rachel, Susan, or Zoe? Don’t think so. 

Do you feel comfortable with answering personal questions? Yeah.

Is there something you wish you could tell someone but can’t? Not realllllyyyyy? I wish I could tell someone that I miss them and wish they were available lol but they’re not. I wish I could tell someone that our friendship is never going to work and that’s okay. I wish I could tell my one friend she’s going to be alright. 

Are you a morning person or a night person? Morning person. 

Are you a mean person? Honestly I kinda am. I have a bit of a mean spirit. 

What was your last voice mail and who was it from? Oh god I don’t remember. There were a few weeks where I was getting tons of voicemails from insurance people, car people, bank people. It was annoying. I deleted them all. 

When was the last time you cried? Maybe my car accident? 

Is something wrong with you right now? Nope :) 

What are you listening to? Nothing. Silence. It’s very peaceful. 

You find out your ex is having a kid with someone you don’t like, you say? A KID? Dear god. I’d be terrified for him. Kids are a whole new level.  

Could you last in a relationship for over a year? Happily. 

Do you remember the name of your first school you ever went to? Alvin Buckwold Elementary. 

Tomorrow is? BRUNCH. GYM WORKOUT. CLOSING AT WORK. 

What were you doing at 12:00am last night? I was rolling around on an air mattress and me and Sydney were gonna have a sleepover on it in our living room. 

When was the last time you completely broke down? Lol idk somewhere a few days after New Year’s Eve. 

Are you lying to yourself about something? Nope. I stopped doing that. 

What’s your middle name? Ashley. 

[datingadviceonreddit]

Met this girl from the gym, she’s 21 and I’m 27. Prior to us meeting, I’ve seen her at the gym a few times but never really showed/ had interest in her to be honest. Few weeks go by and she randomly adds me on Instagram. I wait a week and decide to slide in her DMs, she responds enthusiastically, we banter for a bit and agree to hangout whenever both our schedules open up.Before our first “date” occurred she re initiated contact with me the very next day by commenting something flirty on one of my IG stories of me at the gym. We chat very briefly back and forth on IG. I end up asking her a question, and she doesn’t respond till later the next day. She replies to me apologizing that her “IG notifications were off” but that she’s a much better texter, so she gives me her number (I never asked). I text her and she immediately asks me if I’m going to the gym today (Tuesday). I tell her I already went earlier I’m the AM and that I was working till late that night. Another day goes by and she reaches out to me again on Thursday morning asking me again if I was going to gym (she seemed very eager to meet me). Again, I tell her I was working at my office til late and wasn’t able to get to the gym till the weekend. I’m a busy man. Anyways, we don’t meet up till a week later since it turns out she already had plans that weekend.I initiate contact with her the following Thursday and we agree to workout together that weekend on Sunday. Workout goes well. Good amount of flirting and good conversation. 4 days go by without contact. I text her and decide to invite her on a date to the fair on Sunday. She agrees, again very enthusiastically. We meet at the fair end up getting food and talking the entire hour and half. I drop her off at her car and we part ways. That night she texts me that she got home (I never asked) and that we “for sure need to hangout again!!”.This time 3 days go by without contact (I only text mainly for logistics after very brief banter) . I invite her out again Saturday night but she tells me she’s busy and that she has a track and field event that Saturday and doesn’t know what time she’ll be back. I tell her ”no problem!” And get off the phone. The next day (Friday) she responds to one of my stories of me at the gym this time with the heart eyes emoji, showing clear interest. Sunday same thing commenting on my Instagram story. She was initiating some sort of contact with me.Next Thursday comes around I text her, she responds “Heyyy!! How are you?”I text back, but she “falls asleep” and responds the following morning flirting with me about my gym posts on IG. She leaves me hanging mid convo not texting me back (she’s done this before before meeting in person). I didn’t ask anything, but she still didn’t keep the convo going. I didn’t take it personal but never got to asking her out that weekend. That night I post myself at the gym and the following morning she responds AGAIN with the heart eyes emoji and “yesss I love it”. I tell her over the DMs that we should workout again soon and she agrees.I wait 4 days before reaching out again. This time I go straight to the point and ask her if she’s free this weekend. She replies “hey!! I think I am, I have a track and field event Saturday, but Sunday I should be free”. I respond by saying “If you’re down we should grab some food and hit up the IPic theater (luxury dine in theater) Sunday night.”She never responded to me...She always has her iPhone “read receipts” on but she left my text on “delivered”. It’s been 5 days now and haven’t heard from her. She’s still friends with me on IG and watches all my stories but still nothing.Usually I move on in this situation, but out of the 3 girls I’m currently dating this one had me the most interested. At this point I don’t know if she just suddenly lost interest/ ghosted me? Don’t know if I should pursue in this confusing scenario due to the fact that she went from a high level of interest to all of a sudden not texting back to my date invitation? via /r/dating_advice

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 112, July 2018

On Monday morning, I had a job interview for Toll People which are part of the Toll Group, a global logistics company with the nearest office located in Dandenong South. To be honest, I haven’t had much time at all to process this opportunity since receiving the phone call last Friday afternoon from the recruitment consultant, Janella. However, I decided to dive in head first and quickly completed the required online induction and safety modules.

Over the past weekend, my brain has been flooded with many questions: Am I doing the right this pursuing an opportunity that I don’t know much about? Will I be able to fit a new job into my current lifestyle? Will I have to sacrifice and cut out some of my commitments? Will this casual warehouse role be right for me? What if I can’t handle it? What if I don’t enjoy it? All of this boils down to my huge fear of uncertainty and change.

So really this job interview is basically a learning opportunity to grow as a person. To embrace change and take a risk by potentially gaining new employment. The good news is that the ball is basically in my court. If things go pear shaped and it doesn’t sound like the right job for me, then I can always walk away and decline the offer. Also if I can’t seem to make it fit in or becomes overwhelming, the choice will always be there to pull the pin. But at the same time, I do want to give this opportunity a red hot go and see where it takes me. https://tinybuddha.com/blog/7-ways-to-deal-with-uncertainty/

It’s been over a year since my last job interview so of course I was feeling quite nervous and unsure about it. I wanted to make sure I was prepared enough for it in terms of my attire, presentation, what to bring, questions and answers, my skills and abilities. I normally wear standard business attire to job interviews but this part of the email I received last week suggested I should do otherwise:

“During this testing, you will undergo evaluation designed to identify some risk factors that are associated with your potential employment with Toll. This will include requiring you to provide a written medical history/questionnaire and to answer questions at the interview. This written form of assessment and interview will assist with evaluating your overall physical ability to undertake the inherent physical requirements for intended role. Please wear comfortable clothing that will allow you to undertake this task.”

And so I decided to go with neat casual dress and hoped that was appropriate as I didn’t hear back from the recruitment consultant, Janella, over the weekend. So it was a relief of sorts when I discovered most of today’s interview involved filling out copious amounts of paperwork with everything from my personal details and medical history to identification and police checks, superannuation, tax and banking details. It took me about an hour to get through it all as there was about 20 pages to read, fill in and sign.

The nice thing was that I wasn’t the only candidate applying for work which means less pressure on me. The interview itself with Janella was a lot more informal and brief than I expected. She asked a few routine questions to make sure I was still interested in pursuing a casual warehouse hand position, checked through all the paperwork and that was it really. Part of me is overcome with self-doubt and worries about whether this job is right for me but I’m trying hard to remain mildly optimistic about it.

Of course I was still flustered and exhausted as hell by the end of it but I’m really glad that I made the effort to do this. Even if I’m not successful, at least I can say I tried and did my best.  And if it turns out that this job isn’t for me, at least I can say I’ve gone through the interview process and it wasn’t a waste of time. It’s all learning. https://www.tollgroup.com/business-services/recruitment/looking-work

On Monday night, I attended a meditation class at Level Up Yoga in Berwick. Tonight's meditation class hosted by Angelina Morino was based around the theme of HEALING. Being the middle of winter, I usually get very susceptible to colds, flus and various sinus issues plus symptoms like dry mouth, dehydration, sleepiness, muscle tension, physical and mental fatigue and low mood/energy. https://www.aaronpetty.com/meditation/

Ange talked about the fundamental principles of a meditation practice including finding the spaces between thoughts and using the breath as a focal point or anchor. She also discussed how our minds constantly make up stories that aren't necessarily true. This is something I've been continually working on over the years, to let go and dispel of those bullshit claims that my brain is coming up with.

Some of my "stories" include: I am not enough. I don't have any friends. I am weird, boring and uninteresting. Everyone in this room is ignoring me and deliberately excluding me. Nobody likes me. I'm going to be lonely forever. There's something wrong with me. I'm too quiet. I don't speak up enough.

A lot of this comes from how comfortable I am with myself and having self-acceptance. That means accepting every single part of who I am, the good and the bad. It also means ridding myself of things that no longer serve me: negative thoughts, toxic emotions and self-doubt. It's a difficult process for me having severe mental illness but I've got to keep working at it everyday.

Tonight was a great example of why most of the above stories are bullshit. If those things were true, Aaron Petty wouldn't have hugged me on arrival or asked about my job interview today. Angelina Morino wouldn't have said hello, grabbed my props and offered me a muffin. And the other students wouldn't have said hi and acknowledged my existence. I am definitely not alone and I am very much enough. https://www.aaronpetty.com/teaching-schedule/

On Tuesday night, I had my YardFIT group training session at The Yard Strength & Fitness in Pakenham. I was burning the candle at both ends a little today after being out of the house for a total of 6 hours. I did a CX Works group fitness class at YMCA Casey ARC (I can feel my glutes burning) plus a half hour session on the treadmill. The new CX Works release was pretty tough with lots of tracks using the resistance bands and trying to incorporate Pilates movements. I’m surprised I didn’t get tangled up in the bands! I then drove straight to Frankston and parked in the multi-level carpark near Hoyts Australia FRANKSTON. http://w3.lesmills.com/israel/en/classes/cxworx/music-tracklists/

Of course I didn’t really anticipate the school holidays crowds which means more traffic on the road, more congestion, more time needed to find parking, more parents and kids everywhere and a long queue at the candy bar. Thankfully I managed to grab an exclusive Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom dinosaur drink cup with Blue the velociraptor on the top (Yes I’m a dinosaur geek and also love collecting stuff, what of it?). I really enjoyed watching JW:FK a second time even with the kid next door randomly asking me 20 questions before it started. https://www.hoyts.com.au/movies/jurassic-world-fallen-kingdom

PEAK HOUR TRAFFIC! It took me about an hour to get home from Frankston even with some quick decision making in going an alternative route. But inevitably I was going to get stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Of course I forgot about the large round-a-bout on Hall Road. But never mind, I just wanted to get home so I could eat something and have some downtime before going out again.

I was feeling mentally exhausted by the time I got to The Yard and perhaps it was a good thing that I didn’t rush myself to get there by 5.30pm. I was just me and Rodney Millar tonight. We worked on a lot of mobility, stretches and muscle activation through the glutes, hips, hammies and back. To warm up, Mandi Herauville drew from a deck of playing cards and corresponded these to a particular exercise including ring rows, med ball snatches, jabs on the punching bag, burpees, squats, lunges and push-ups.

For tonight’s WOD, we did a modified version of the FILTHY FIFTY. As the name implies, we had to do 50 reps of each of the movements which is very tough. These included: Box Jumps (Step Ups), Jumping Pull-ups, Kettle Bell Swings, Overhead Bar Presses (Med Ball Snatches), Knees to Elbows, Wall Balls, Burpees (Supported with a box) and Double Unders (Single Skips). Rodney and I were both stuffed after just 15 minutes and Mandi knew when to draw the line. https://www.boxrox.com/crossfit-workouts/others/filthy-fifty/

That’s the thing I love about Mandi as a personal trainer and coach. She knows exactly when to back off or modify a workout if things are becoming too difficult and not achievable for the client. She can also be really blunt and direct with a strong “no bullshit” radar but she is always coming from a good place. Even during the final cool down, she reminded us that life can be really tough and we should be proud of our efforts both at the gym and in life.

“I fall into the ocean, I fly into the sky. All my broken emotion is slowly drifting by. The further I go into myself. The more I find, then I find, I need someone else.”     Evermore - Into The Ocean (Calling You) (2004)

“Leave the TV on to fill the empty air. Loneliness sinks in, like ink into my skin. Should have seen it all. The climb before the fall. I held to what we shared. But now its disappeared.” Evermore - Come To Nothing (2004)

[bitch-sexy-blog1]

Day 1 - Angie

Monday 8:48 am:

Text from Dom:  “Hola!!! I miss you!  So curious how you be, wanna catch up? <3”

I wake up to this text.  3 mosquito bites on my forehead.  Some IG memes.  Snapchats.  Along with a slight depression because I am still funemployed and I hate not working.  Oh, and to texts from my other ex-boyfriend Jake who reached out because his step-father passed away this week.  

*Mind tries to swallow these feels*

9:50 am: Sends Mila a screenshot of Quinn’s text

9:53 am: Mila:  Oh my god.  Are you going to respond???????

*falls back asleep until MUFUGGING 4 PM* WHO THE FUK AM I.

(Dom is a well-known (I guess you could say famous) DJ ex-boyfriend of mine whom I asked to never reach out to me again back in January after the X-Games.  That was my breaking point of our “trying to be friends after dating” situation.  He is the reason I have an unordinarily negative outlook on love, relationships, and men.  And yet I still compare every guy I date to him.  How obsessed we were with each other, how we communicated, how we loved...I can’t put into words how it felt.  The best part was that it was mutual each step of the way.  But as time went on, we both changed.  Unfortunately for me, he turned into a lying, egotistical fuckboi.  He was a world-class manipulator and controlled my every move like I was his personal puppet.   He was also the *only* person who could make me cum in 30 seconds.  Yay for me.  After I found out about his sleezy nature and about all the PLUR baby girls he was banging, I could no longer cum.  Not even once.  That was it.  The flame burnt out.  Sexually, mentally, emotionally.  We tried and tried and tried and it just wouldn’t happen.  You can still try to love when your mind’s not in it, but when your heart’s not in it too, that’s when it’s game over.  Time to move on.  I appreciate the times we had because now I know how to love deeply.  I also knew what it felt like to be vulnerable, for once.  

Year 1 and 2 he showed me what true love was like.

Year 3 he tried to have an open relationship with me (with it being open on his end only, mind you) and consistently told me it’s natural for men to have multiple partners because they crave “sexual diversity”.  Even though he thought I was perfect, he still wanted a taste of something different.  He would tell me “if you don’t want any guy to cheat on you, you’re gonna have to get with a plumber.  Because guys in this day in age, if they’re successful, attractive, and are charming, they are going to have multiple partners.  That’s how it should be.”  He told me, “I become even more addicted to YOU, because of how free you allow me to be.”  

Pshhh, keep that shit away from me mayne.

Here is where my negative outlook on men began to cultivate.

Anyway, so I wanted him out of my life.  I felt like he was toxic to my mind and I just didn’t want him to flood my thoughts anymore.  I politely asked him to stop reaching out weekly and he freaked out.   He tried to text me four or five times after, and my short and disinterested responses seemed to have worked.  I haven’t heard from him since April.  And it’s been great!

However, it’s hard to escape his entirety.  My friends in Atlanta are all obsessed with his music.  He developed a friendship with my brother.  I still even enjoy his music.  His old body guard still messages me.  I can’t escape Stage Name, but I can still try and escape Dom.).

This text was like woah for me this morn.  

Rewind two days:

I had just talked with the guy I’ve been seeing Quinn (who is also in the music industry) about how Dom and I don’t talk anymore.  He seemed curious about it and said, “Doesn’t he live like 20 min away from you?”  I said yes, but trust me, he doesn’t know I live out here.  And I asked him not to reach out to me a while ago.  He hasn’t.  It’s fine.  Don’t worry.”   This happened Saturday night as I lay in his lap, listening to Deadmau5, looking up at the sky (and his cute ass face).  He was asking me all sorts of questions.  How many relationships have you been in, how long were they, etc.  

Soon after, we all packed into Dan’s car heading to an after-party at Mike’s loft.  As I sat on Quinn, knee to face and ass in lap, he bit my ear, kissed my neck, kept turning my head to make out with me...all in front of everyone.  After we had talked about how he doesn’t need to worry about Quinn, how I’m a good girl that doesn’t just hook up, and how I’m a deep girl with deep feelings, he seemed to have no worries at all.  I liked that.  He couldn’t stop hugging me.  I noticed that I didn’t care about PDA at all either, which is unusual for me.  PDA?  Me?  Naw…..well, I suppose yes with him :)

We hung out on the rooftop overlooking the ATL skyline.  Soon we both got tired and head to bed.  Of course, we ended up having sex even though the bedroom had missing walls (I get that it’s a loft but like, what about privacy?  Y tho).  Pretty sure people heard us.  But, again…..we didn’t care.   

Sunday:

*Alarm goes off* 12:10pm

Angie:  Shit.  Need to get up.  Guess I’ll get up and see how I look.  *Looks in mirror*  Okay, not too bad.  We can make this work.  A little foundation, brushed teeth, and change of clothes and I’ll be Gucci.

12:15pm: *whispers to Quinn*

Yo...we have to leave in 15.  You don’t have to come, but just letting you know.

Quinn: Wakes up all squinty-eyed.  Curly-headed mess.  Zombie walks to the bathroom and moans.  Walks back to bed.

I sift through my tiny gym bag of necessities (thanks to Skiplagged even tho I love you Skiplagged) and find a cute, chill outfit to wear.  In 10 min, I look gewwwwwd.  Slight bags underneath my eyes but that’s inevitable after a festival weekend.

I tap on Quinn to let him know I’m calling the Lyft.  He gets up, stares at the wall for 30 seconds (I look at him like ...da fuq.  He spaces off randomly and IDK if he’s really not thinking about anything or what but...I curious about you sometimes dawg) but then he finally makes moves and puts his shoes on, and says “Mmmk.  I’m ready.”

We meet my mom and brother for lunch.  My mom is being extra cute and Asian and Quinn just giggles and stares at me the whole time.  I keep putting food on his plate to eat (Korean style) and he just kept eating.  What a doll.  He tried everything too.  What. A. Doll.  Even though he’s the second guy I’ve ever introduced to my family, my fam kept it pretty chill.  I think they know not to get attached to any guy I talk to now ‘til it’s reaaaal.  But still.  Props to my fam.  They were very welcoming and adorable.  I knew he really liked them.

My brother drops us off at the loft again and we pass out for a couple hours.  <Insert last quiet attempt at sex here>   We did ittttttt.  Both came too.  Tehe.  I still couldn’t get on top because the bed squeaked too much, but still.  Fun times.

We both head to the airport and he’s constantly touching and grabbing me along the way.  He asked, “You think we’ll have time to dine?” I smiled, “Dine?...Yes, I think so.”  And he smiled back.

We “dined” at Grindhouse Killer Burgers and just chatted.  Kept looking at the time, hoping time would pass slower.

I had 5 minutes until boarding ended, so we started to walk towards my gate.  Right before we got there, he asked when I’d see him again.  Of course I agreed to come down to LA.  We kissed goodbye and I hopped on my flight just in the knick of time.  Had bitch seat in between one chick playing loud ass electronic music and another watching football on her phone the whole time chewing her gum like Cardi B would (one of my biggest pet peeves).  And no TV.  So I decided to just try and sleep the entire way.

Decide to take BART home.  I see McD’s next to the station...so I decide to make moves.

Get home to wifey Mila.  I have a McDouble in hand.  I plop down on the couch and eat my burgz.  I barely ate all weekend so it was pretty fucking delicious.  We talk some then both decide to go to sleep.

I had awful sleep because I kept getting mufugging bit in the face by mosquitoes lurking in my room.  

I woke up Monday like…………………..is this for real?  Universe.  I see you.

Dom...really?  Now?

Also, last time I got bit in my face by a mosquito was when I was with Quinn on a hike a couple years ago and my forehead literally grew an inch because of how I react to mosquito bites.  He constantly laughed at me because of how cute it was to him.  Was this foreshadow, Universe?  Cuz...I still see you.

Anyway, all this is making me question if I could be with someone in the music industry again.  I lurked Quinn’s IG haaaard the other day and it was all fest/show life.  

I really dig Quinn, but during this next trip, I want to get to know him more and see what his everyday life is like.  And what his normal communication is like.  I can’t tell if he’s just shy and quiet or if he likes to keep the game interesting by being quiet.  I told Mila I want to have a communication level to a degree where Quinn and I shared, and she was like, “You compare every guy to Quinn,” and I was like…damn, you’re right.  But just because I want that communication level doesn’t mean I want a guy like Quinn.  Quinn is a broken dude who will always be broken.  I just look for the way our convo flowed.  Kinda like the way Mila and my convo flows.  I need that.  

So, bought my flight to LA (exact same one as Mila cuz she’ll be there for her poker playaz) today.  

Oct. 13…………oh lordt.

(I also messaged my bartending connect today.  We are meeting this weekend.  I think I’m gonna go this route for now.  Fukkkk sales.  I mentioned this so you don’t think I’m a lazy POS, lulz).  But really.  I am excited to see where this goes.

11:20pm:  Mila’s Jonah Hill doppelgänger just called.  He’s totally in love and trying to pay for her flight out this weekend.  She’s playing it cool by saying she has to check with her boss (which I’m sure she does) but I can tell wifey needs to think a lil about it.  I’m so curious to see how this weekend would go for her if she decides to go.  He’s suggesting she stay a good amount of time.  Her and this super sexy dark Kocoum look-a-like (who is roomies with Jonah at the cheez mansion) have this intense chemistry going on, and I’m sooooo curious to see how it unravels.  If she doesn’t go this weekend, Mila and I are both going to be in LA Oct. 13th wknd.  We are gonna have two completely different blog entries, I can tell ya that much, lolz.  I’ll be with Quinn mostly and she’s gonna have to fend off Chuck and Jonah, but try and sneak away with Kocoum.  Also while trying to slay at poker.  I happened to be at this mansion during fight night in LA a couple weeks before with Quinn and met all these guys.  Completely randomly with different connects.  The one guy I noticed and thought was cute was the guy she picked out--Kocoum.  Go Mila :) 

Arrrittttee.

****Time to sign off****

-Angie

[ramblingsbyrhi]

feels

My intention when I created this account was to a. write about “things” as opposed to “feelings”, due to the large possibility that b. I would share the link at some point for some self imposed “important” reason or another, and people could take or leave it as they pleased. I have been slightly at war with myself lately however, and I figure if I can word it somewhat level headedly enough, then a. it may make me feel better/slightly more at ease/neither, or b. it could resonate with whoever randomly stumbles across it one day, or even help those who have to endure me on a regular basis to understand why I’ve behaved in a certain way as of late etc. Perhaps none of the above will occur as a result of what I’m about to write however I will continue regardless and the rest is reliant on your discretion (I have this overwhelming urge to post the peace emoji here and I’m so glad I am unable to at the same time).

I can’t pinpoint when exactly I began to feel this way, but I think I can narrow down a few various factors that largely contribute to WHY, which I won’t go into detail about. Basically, I was just driving home from a gym sesh with my PT where I was whinging the whole time, complaining about what he wanted me to do, sulking that it was hurting, that it’s Monday afternoon etc, which isn’t a way I generally like to behave at the gym or at all, but probably do far more often than I’d care to acknowledge. The negativity most likely resulted in me not putting in the amount of effort I should have and would have liked to, made me look like a complete moron, was plain embarrassing, and has made me feel even worse, to the point I was fighting tears on the way home and argued with myself about the reasoning behind it all. In my head I was justifying it with my PT having changed the time on me, it being a Monday afternoon where everyone suddenly decides they’re going to get fit this week and it tends to be one of the busiest times of the week, my muscles aren’t getting as strong and defined as I’d like in a short period of time, and a handful of other bullshit excuses as to why I was allowed to behave like a fucking child. But, in reality, he had literally just got off holidays less than 24 hours ago and was doing his best to fit me in, not to mention was probably keen to get home himself after having worked all day while I had a cruisy day at home, he worked around the fact that there was a bunch of people permeating the gym, really well in fact, I can only get out of the gym and bettering my health as much as I put in, and the negativity and ridiculous behaviour is in no way justified no matter how much my PT has come to be a mate - he’s probably everyone’s “mate” and there is absolutely no reason for me to presume it’s alright to act like a dick.

The thing is though, the sooking and negativity wasn’t just today, they’ve been around for many days - many months even. I tell myself there’s a difference between negativity and logic, and any thoughts I have or remarks I make about people or ideas or events that I don’t understand or agree with are because I am logical. But I know (logic) that that can’t be the case, and there are many people who are uplifting and positive and motivating in their personalities, and they can’t all be daft or oblivious to unreasonable events or behaviour of other people.

I know that my job and lack of career path are major contributors to my sourness - any retail position where you HAVE to take treatment whether good or bad from absolute strangers will take its toll, not to mention the pressure in regards to making individual KPIs and yet working within a team environment.. it all adds up. But whilst I have no qualifications for a different job and no idea what I’d like to do, and am actively doing absolutely nothing about either of those factors, I really have no entitlements to complain. There is no sense in regretting the decisions I’ve made, the time and money wasted in study I now have absolutely no interest in, the present time with which I am doing nothing productive that feels like it is slipping through my fingers.. I’d love to have some sort of epiphany or even vague idea about a direction I should head in, but I am absolutely lost.

The relationships I have with not only the people around me, but myself, also massively affect my mood and general overall feelings. I am struggling with intimate relationships, friendships, acquaintanceships, and also the way I feel about myself (which I am trying to work on, this post kind of being about that, I guess). I know that I choose to be around people who will do me absolutely no favours in the long term, and sometimes even in the short term, whilst I neglect relationships with those who I know can and have done me a world of good. I am generally pretty introverted, I don’t need to socialise often to feel satisfied or validated, I don’t like to go out on weekends and I don’t have a lot of friends a. who do that or b. in general, and it suits me just fine. I see people on social media mainly who seem so happy and bubbly and uplifting and like their shit is actually sunbeams and beautiful flowers, and surely they can’t be like that one hundred percent of the time. But it does make me wonder why I can’t be like that some of the time, and why I place myself in the company of people who also aren’t really like that which makes it okay for me not to be like that *takes massive breath*. Aahhh. I know the world of social media is mostly some make believe facade, but the positive parts are inspiring, it’s just the putting into practise I struggle with.

In saying that though, I’m sure social media and the general way we go about our days now (something happens; upload a picture of it, go somewhere; take pictures of it THEN upload it, make something delicious to eat; make sure it looks nice then take a pic then upload it then wait for the likes from the correct hashtags to pour in and you’ll feel more validated or something and then you’ll eat cold food) mostly has negative impacts on all of us, and I have thought about this concept so many times it isn’t funny, yet still I continue to involve myself, because what else would I do with my time?? I deleted facebook just after my 21st birthday after deciding I was fed up with the time wasted on there, the unnecessary bullshit people upload, the way everyone’s still “in touch” but so far out of touch with each other.. it’s mind boggling. I signed back up when my best friend went overseas and I figured it was the best way I could keep up with her travels and make sure she was alive and so on. Slowly people I knew began to add the not so serious account, and quickly I remembered why the fuck I deleted it in the first place. I can’t really boast about the fact that I went so long without it since instagram quickly filled any void and took up all my time. And while I still think instagram is much better since its mostly only pictures and you really don’t have to see people you went to school with or whatever as much as you do on facebook, and most posts are super catered to what you like to see, it definitely fucks with your head since it is all photos.. Of stunning girls with perfect lives, and popular people who make a living off of it, and people from your area you vaguely know who are younger and far more successful than you. And I continue to use it and wonder what it’d be like to be any of the above and just sit here all miserable like, reverting back to crying about not making quicker gym gains, or why I didn’t get a law degree and own a house by now with a job that doesn’t make me depressive every other day, or why my hundreds of friends and I aren’t naturally pretty models with tiny waists who post a photo of a fucking teeth whitening product and get deposited five thousand dollars for doing so, or why I don’t have a perfect relationship where we’re both ticking off goals and travelling the world and buying properties...

Wow, did I just answer my own question??

I am sorry if you’ve noticed a change in me that doesn’t leave the greatest aftertaste, but if it’s any consolation I taste it too. It’s awful, and I know I need to count my blessings and change the flavour and be grateful that someone even wants to give me PT, or that the sky at around 5pm is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, or that I have an absolutely wonderful family who would support me in any career path or study I wish to undertake, because I live in a country where I have the access and means to do so!

Thanks for reading, it kind of worked.