#it’s 9:43am and I’ve already had a day

[johnlockdynamic]

stress mixed hot cocoa, oat milk, Reddiwhip, protein and almost threw up from the sweetness aljskajsksjfkjf . 10/10 do not recommend . dumped it and now I'm drinking hibiscus tea.

[tha1troy]

Good Morning, today is Monday, October 2, 2023 at 8:43am.. I am just getting to work right now, I have another long work week ahead of me, with only 1 day off but it’s okay, I’m always here for the money! I just had a bowl of yogurt w/peaches and some granola to give me some energy this morning. The traffic to work was bad, it took me on a different route to work because of all this construction around the Las Vegas strip right now it’s been crazy. The MSG Sphere just opened this weekend with U2 being the opening act. F1 is almost here in November, lots of conventions these next few months as well as SuperBowl right around the corner in 2024. So yeah, they are tearing this city apart.. Luckily, I still made it to work at a decent time to grab a little food and chill before I go in.. Anyways, I can’t believe it’s already almost been a week since I posted. I would like to write daily about my life, feelings, thoughts, and express things I normally can’t. I guess you could say I’ve been pretty busy, I had a lot to get done on my 2 days off last week and then I’ve just been here working pretty much everyday. There was a little drama this weekend but I think I’m passed that now, hopefully. I’m back to being focused & ready to make it happen. My birthday is about 9 days away now & I still haven’t planned anything yet so I need to get on that, I would like to at least do something nice, not sure just yet what I want to do though. But yeah.. for the most part just another day another dollar. Ready to take on whatever the universe is throwing at me today. They don’t want me to win, BUT I WILL WIN! 🏆 Everybody have a blessed & amazing day.

[suttttton]

Like Real People Do

Written for Febuwhump, Day 9: Buried Alive

***

“Absolutely not,” Basira says. “You’re not getting yourself killed.”

“I’m really not asking,” Jon replies. His chest aches where his ribs were so recently pulled from him, and the bone feels almost warm in his hands. “I’m not just going to leave him in there.”

“I say let him go,” Daisy cuts in, her voice low and hostile. “One less monster for us to deal with.”

Jon turns his face away. She’s right, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered exactly that point, but… this isn’t an excuse for him to die. He has to come out of the coffin. He has to get Martin out.

Basira ignores Daisy. “Jon, we’ve all lost people. You have to get over it.”

Jon just shakes his head. “I’m not losing him.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, until Basira finally relents. “Fine. You want to get yourself killed? Go ahead.”

“I’m not going to get myself killed,” Jon says, with much more confidence than he feels.

“No death in that thing,” Daisy says.

“Yes,” Jon says, still not looking at her. “But—this will work. People have found their way out of the Buried before. One person, at least, and the Eye wanted me to read their statement. It—If I leave my rib here, I should be able to find my way back to it.”

“And how will you find Martin?” Basira asks.

“That won’t be a problem,” Jon says. He can’t See him, not in the Coffin, but he can feel him. A deep kind of resigned terror that makes his heart ache.

“How long?” Basira asks.

“I don’t know,” Jon says.

Basira glares at him. “You don’t know.”

“No!” Jon says. “I might be in there—a day? Maybe?”

“And if you don’t come out?” Basira says.

“One less monster,” Jon manages with a self-deprecating smile, glancing at Daisy.

“Yeah, well,” Basira says. “Try to make it back.”

“Right,” Jon says. “Right.”

***

It’s easy, finding Martin.

Well, no. Easy isn’t quite the right word. The Coffin is… horrible, dirt brushing against every exposed part of Jon’s skin, walls closing around him, squeezing him until he isn’t quite sure how he’s even moving forward. He can’t breathe, and his throat hurts from inhaling dust.

But he can feel Martin, like a tether, pulling him closer and closer, until finally he’s… there. He’s right there, and Jon is grabbing his hand, and it’s cold but it’s Martin. He’s never been so glad in his life.

“Jon?” Martin says, and his voice breaks Jon’s heart. He sounds exhausted. He sounds… crushed. Nothing Martin should ever, ever sound like.

“Yes,” Jon says, reaching out for more of him. It’s hard. The Coffin would much rather keep them apart.

“No, no,” Martin says. He also grabs for Jon, and manages to pull him a little closer, one hand settling on his arm. “You can’t be here. Why are you here?”

“I came rescue you,” Jon says.

“You came to…“ Martin’s face is already dirt-streaked and tearstained, but Jon hears his throat catch. “Jon, why would you do that? I don’t—I don’t want you to be trapped here too.”

“I—I won’t be,” Jon says. “I can—” his voice stops, as he reaches for his rib, comes up empty. “I—no, this isn’t—” Where is his anchor? He can’t feel anything, except for the endless, endless dirt pressing in on them for all directions. “Martin, I—I can’t—” his breath hitches with something like panic.

Martin pulls Jon to him, through the dirt, and Jon tries to take consolation that he can at least have this—Martin’s arms around him, holding him close in the darkness.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” he says, and his voice breaks. He couldn’t even do this. “I—I thought—”

“It’s alright, Jon,” Martin says, petting a hand through his hair. “It’s alright.”

***

Martin thought he’d gotten past the worst of the pain this place had in store for him. The terror had long since faded to numb, hopeless horror. The loneliness had started to feel… right, somehow. It was almost peaceful. For once, nothing left to worry about.

But now his heart is breaking, and he is barely, barely holding himself together. Because of Jon. Because Jon came for him. It’s such a stupid, Jon thing to do, Martin almost wants to laugh.

He’d so badly wanted Jon to be alright. It was the one thing he still bothered to hope for, in this hopeless place, but he should have known better.

Jon is doomed because of him. Jon is trembling, crying in his arms because he’s trapped here, forever. A lump forms in Martin’s throat. He wants to fix this. He so badly wants to fix this, to assure Jon that everything will be fine. But it won’t be fine. They’re buried, and it’s all Martin’s fault.

The worst part is that Martin is happy. He’s happy that Jon is here. He’d been so certain that he would never, ever see Jon again. Now he’s warm against Martin’s chest, and even while he cries it is so, so sweet to hear his voice.

He shouldn’t be happy.

Jon pulls back from him, just slightly, just enough to say, “I’m glad—Well,” he laughs softly, wetly. “I’m not glad you’re here. But… If I had to be stuck in a hell dimension with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Martin buries his face in Jon’s hair, laughing silently. Laughing too much, probably for how feeble of a joke it was. “Me too, Jon.”

“I love you,” Jon says. Just like that.

And Martin—can’t. It’s too much.

He gets a sudden flash of terror, imagining the dirt softening and flooding around them, into every little crack between them, forcing them apart. He wouldn’t survive that. Wouldn’t survive losing Jon. Wouldn’t survive knowing that Jon was suffering, somewhere, without being able to offer him even a modicum of comfort.

He holds Jon even tighter, trying to relax the heavy knot that’s formed in his throat. It’s difficult to breath, and for once it isn’t because of the dirt surrounding them. “I love you too, Jon. I’ve always—” his voice hitches, and then he’s sobbing, clutching to Jon like a life raft, because that is exactly what he is. The only thing keeping Martin from sinking.

Jon’s hand comes up to his face, and wipes tears and dirt from his cheeks.

***

A day passes, then two more, and Jon doesn’t re-emerge from the Coffin. Basira doesn’t ask Elias for advice, but he tells her anyway. Tapes. Everything always comes back to the tapes.

Part of her agrees with Daisy, that Jon being gone gives them one less monster to deal with. But… if the Institute gets attacked again, Basira would rather have as many monsters as possible on her side. And she likes Martin. He doesn’t deserve to be trapped in the Coffin forever.

***

Martin is dozing when he feels Jon squeeze his hand.

“Martin,” he says. “I—I think—” Jon’s eyes aren’t looking at him, are far away, and in the dim light Martin can see that they are glowing, just faintly. He doesn’t know if he should be worried or hopeful.

Then Jon gasps, and a grin comes over his face. He keeps his tight grip on Martin’s hand, and says, “I know the way. Martin, I know the way out!”

***

They emerge from the Coffin into Jon’s office, and everything is dark. It’s 1:43am, according to the Eye, and the others have long since gone to sleep in the tunnels.

It isn’t silent, though. All around them, the tapes are running.

“That’s… creepy,” Martin says, leaning heavily on Jon’s shoulder.

Jon just nods, too exhausted to speak. The Coffin lid slams behind them, and they both sink to the floor, still holding on to each other.

They just lay there for a long time, listening to the drone of the tapes around them. Then Martin pulls Jon tightly against him and they embrace.

“I love you,” Martin says, his voice thick and muffled in Jon’s hair.

“I love you too,” Jon says, leaning back to look into Martin’s eyes. Jon’s eyes are soft and he smiles as he looks at Martin, so it takes him by surprise when the next thing Jon says is, “You need a shower.”

Martin laughs. “Wow, okay!”

Jon looks away, blushing. “I just—I meant—I thought you’d probably want one, given everything, and, and—You are a bit covered in dirt.”

Martin laughs again. It’s been so long since he’s laughed at anything. “Jon, can I kiss you?” he says, before he can think about it too hard, before his self-consciousness catches up to him and talk him out of it.

“What?” Jon says. “I—Yes?”

So Martin does. Jon tastes like dirt, and Martin can feel the grit between their lips. But it’s still Jon, and Martin can just barely bring himself to pull away.

“I love you,” he says again, because he can say it now. Because he’s too exhausted to not say it as often as he possibly can. “And you need a shower too.”

[notaburgler]

30 days of quarantine

Bokuto x Fem!Reader tw: language, implied sex, implied anal sex, swearing

A quarantine had been ordered forcing all of Japan to stay indoors. 

“30 days, at minimum.” The official said from the conference.

It would be hard, no doubt about that. Your live-in boyfriend was a ball of energy that wasn’t easily contained. He couldn’t lounge around or be lazy, even if it was in the name of health and safety.

He loved socializing. He didn’t even need to know them. Many times you’d been stuck at the entrance of the grocery store with a tapping foot, waiting for him to be finished with the lengthy conversation he was having with the person from the other line or the cashier. You wondered how he managed not to see the look of disinterest when he babbled on and on. But you loved the idiot, no matter how long he held you up everywhere you went. 

Staying indoors and refraining from any kind of personal social interaction would wear on him. He was a social butterfly and the government just clipped his wings. For you, this was something you felt prepared for. Unlike him, you relished in time at home. Lazily lounging on the couch and munching on your favorite snack food was a night well spent in your eyes. 

Your gaze fell longingly to your boyfriend as he pouted on the couch next to you, “Don’t worry babe.” You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, “we will still have fun.” 

Your smile brought him back to life. He had faith in you, trusted you. His grin made your cheeks burn, he was so easy to bring back from his sad mode, you couldn’t understand how, or why, Fukurodani ever had an issue in the first place. 

“You’re right babe! Plus,” he slid his hand along your lower back, “we get plenty of alone time. Maybe we should work on starting that family you want.” His bushy eyebrows wagged at you making you shake your head.

With a roll of your eyes, you popped another kiss on his cheek, “babe, it goes: dating, marriage, then kids, then we die.” A pat to his thigh before lifting yourself up from the couch. 

Day 1- 7pm

“I decided to start a journal documenting how we handled the quarantine. Koutaro seems to enjoy relaxing for the first time ever. Occasionally, he will get spurts of energy and start pacing or go to the kitchen and open the fridge. I can’t help but laugh when he stares inside it for what seems like ages, then closes it and comes back to the couch with nothing to show. It’s funny watching him. 

Maybe I’ll document how he handles this quarantine. Only 29 days to go.”

Day 2- 10:45pm

“Nothing unusual today. Kou talked my ear off about volleyball. I love him, I really do, but if I have to hear another story about an amazing spike he made in high school again, I might not make it to the end of the quarantine. But I still listen and smile. I have no idea what the hell he's talking about… like, what the fuck is a Libero? He said that Komi is the best out there. 

In all honesty, only day 2 cooped up in the house and I can tell he’s desperate to get back on the court. Maybe I’ll actually pay attention at the next game? Not that I don’t, I just have no idea what’s going on! But Kou slaps the ball really good.

He’s in bed right now, staring at me. God I love him. Time to go get a bit freaky.”

Day 3- 11:11am

“It’s starting to hit me a bit. The quarantine blues really are a thing. I think it might be because Kou has moments of sadness. He’s like a dog, waiting for it’s master to come home from work. He stares out the window with a forlorn look on his face like it’s been years since he had smelled fresh air. 

Like, babe, we have a backyard! 

It’s not huge, but it’s enough to get some fresh air. Kuroo helps a bit. The window in our bedroom and the window in his face each other. They chatted for a few hours today. Gave me a chance to clean up the place. For fucks sake babe, it’s not like you’re busy! Clean up after yourself!

Note to self: Teach Kou how clean as you go before having children with him. 

I think we will watch a movie tonight. It’s weird, we’ve been together in this house for 3 days, but yet we haven’t really spent time together. He's always so busy doing something. He just has to keep moving. It’s that, or he’s sleeping.”

Day 3- 1:39pm

“What in the actual fuck Kou! My god damn boyfriend is currently having a screaming contest with Kuroo. Those two idiots are just sitting in the windows holding a scream for as long as they can…. why? Why did I agree to move into a house right next to Kuroo? Why do I hate me?”

Day 4- 9am

“He’s still asleep. It’s the first time he’s slept in so far. It may be because he was up super late watching porn. I don’t understand how he can have so much energy? I tapped out after round 3, but he wasn’t done yet. 

He is very cute when sleeping. I love him…”

Day 4- 6:56pm

“Well, disaster strikes!

It was a sweet effort, don’t get me wrong. He tried to cook dinner- key word: tried.

It was both burnt and under cooked… at the same time! I don’t know how he managed to fuck it up that bad, but here we are!

I still ate it. I smiled. I hope he couldn't read into the look of disgust I clearly had in my eyes. Maybe I’ll get him online cooking lessons or something. He seemed rather eager to cook, and I’m not one to stop him from trying, especially if that means I don’t have to.”

Day 5- 9:43am

“He tried cooking again. I got breakfast in bed. He’s such a pure-hearted idiot… my idiot. He made the eggs look like volleyballs, it was a cute effort. I told him that in a way to thank him for being such a sweetheart, I’d do lunch and dinner. 

He’s tried cleaning the house, but somehow manages to make a bigger mess than before. My cheeks hurt from laughing at him fighting the dishwasher. Maybe this whole experience will help him appreciate what I do around the house more- not that he doesn’t already. Sometimes I think he assumes that since I’m going to college online and not working that it’s my job to clean up, and by all means, I’m more than happy to do so. But even when I’m home all day, some verbal appreciation and a lending hand here and there is also expected from him. I’m blessed that I am able to stay home, but I’m also not the only one that lives here.”

Day 6- 2:15pm

“He’s crying because Akaashi called to check in. Kou is such a social man, being out of contact with his friends is hard on him. I think he’s missing volleyball too. He’s been watching old matches on the computer a lot. He has this look of someone that’s missing their spouse on his face. If only he’d look at me the way he looks at a volleyball…”

Day 6- 5:09pm

“Akaashi is now FaceTiming him. Kou begged to see his “beautiful face” so now they are FaceTiming… he never FaceTimes with me! Why am I jealous of his high school setter? Imma go give him a piece of my mind. Update when I return.”

Day 6- 5:13pm

“Akaashi is beautiful. I have chosen to forgive Koutaro.”

Day 7- 8:46am

“He wants to build the best pillow fort ever. Kuroo is throwing all of his pillows and blankets over the fence so we can make one. I’m pumped! Hoping to turn the entire living room into a pillow fort.”

Day 8- 7pm

“Lazy day today for me. Kou has been getting more and more restless. He found old paint in the garage and decided to repaint the spare room. This… will not go well.”

Day 8- 8pm

“Note to self: make sure Kou has a spotter when painting on a ladder. Also, call a carpet cleaner when this is over.”

Day 9- 5am

“Kou is up early. I can’t sleep without him next to me. He curls up into my back and holds me so close, I love it. He woke up early to work out. He’s currently running circles around the backyard… the backyard is not big enough to run circles… also, I don’t think he’s shaved since day 1. Neither has Kuroo- oh god they aren’t shaving!

I’ve seen Kou take selfies each morning. Is he documenting how his hair grows? These two are so weird. I want him to come back to bed. I want to cuddle!”

Day 10- 3:47am

“I’m gonna murder Koutaro Bokuto, I swear. His snoring is so goddamn loud….”

Day 10- 8:05am

“I didn’t sleep at all. Kou was tossing and turning all night long. Apparently, he snores. This is news to me! I’d never heard him snore before, or at least, not like that. We had a fucking freight train rolling through our bedroom at top speeds, blaring it’s horn. Only 10 days in… I guess this is a real test of our relationship, huh?”

Day 14- 3:36pm

“Kuroo waited around the window for a while. We talked for a bit. It had been a while since we talked, it was a nice break. He was busy with work for a while, but this was a great chance to finally relax and chill. He told me that he picked up a few games at the store before the lock down. This was evident by the few cases strewn between our houses. He probably tried to let Kou borrow them and didn’t make the toss… and they call themselves athletes? 

Kuroo was a nice break from the monotony of this lock up. I’m getting cabin fever and would like a chance to go for a walk or maybe-”

Day 14- 3:40pm

“So… Kou found out the hard way why we don’t play volleyball inside the house. Now our coffee table is broken and there is glass all over. Ugh… if old polaroid cameras were still a thing, and I had one, I’d leave a picture of my face right now. Just, ugh… 16 more days… 16.”

Day 16- 9:03pm

“Today was a nice day. I think Kou watching so much porn has made him hyper aroused. I swear, we’ve fucked on every surface of this house. He asked to get a bit adventurous, wondering what I would be willing to explore with him.

The list is rather long. The standard stuff normal couples try at least once… right?

Anal, 69, bondage, role play… stuff like that.

He says he doesn’t want the bondage to be like the porn he’s seen though, he can’t begin to even fathom hitting me, even if it’s something I asked for. He said, “the best you’ll get is a smack on the ass, babe.” And followed that up with one helluva slap to my butt. Ace of Fukurodani for ya, leaving hand prints on my ass. That’s fine, I don’t really like the whole slapping thing. But I’d be willing to dip into choking or some light shit like that… meh, we are gonna talk about it more tonight. I’ll write our list of what we wanna try next.

The good news is that I get to go grocery shopping today! Never thought I’d be excited about that!”

Kou and my kinks to try:

Anal

Bondage/shibari

69

Role play

Student/teacher

Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby

Doctor or nurse/patient

Boss/Secretary

DS

Pegging? (I’ll convince him!)

Mutual masturbation

Orgasm control/denial

Over-stimulation

Hot/cold play

Wax play

“I’m sure we won’t get all of them, but I think he’s game to try.”

Day 17- 10:53am

“WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME ANAL SEX MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU GOTTA SHIT?!?!? I swear, I couldn’t enjoy even a second of it because I kept feeling like I was shitting all over the bed. Kou said it felt like he was fucking a silicone coke bottle; tight at the beginning, but after you press through... not so much. I mean, at least we tried it. I don’t think we are gonna go down chocolate lane again. 

Not sure what we will try tonight. Actually, I might need a break from that. My hips hurt more than normal, and I still feel like my asshole is gonna prolapse any second… fuck that.”

Day 18- 8:20am

“Where the fuck did he get a saxophone? We don’t have a saxophone. It’s 8 in the goddamn morning and he’s trying to learn- I swear Kuroo… he’s got a trumpet. A FUCKING TRUMPET! These two… I love Kou so much, and I’d do anything for him, but I have to know where he got the sax from.”

Day 18- 8:34am

“I knew getting prime was a mistake.”

Day 18- 10:17am

“We agreed to have a lazy day. He put away the sax. I hid all of his reeds. It’ll be a shame when he goes to play again and has no reeds to play with. Sorry babe, but I’m on edge and I can’t handle you squealing your saxophone all day long. 

About to pick a movie to watch while we eat. Maybe a show, who knows? I was scanning Netflix earlier and saw a cute little show called “happy tree friends” looks like something we might like. Just a cute show to bring back nostalgic memories. Maybe we will binge The whole series?”

Day 18- 11:19am

“So… that show… not what I was expecting. Kou is traumatized. This whole day of relaxing really isn’t panning out as I hoped. Maybe I’ll watch more after I rock my baby-of-a-boyfriend to sleep tonight. He’s fragile, but so damn cute.”

Day 21- 10:02am

“He’s started one of the dumbest things I’ve seen so far. I can handle the saxophone, I can deal with the screaming contest, I can even tolerate the paint fiasco… but why on earth would he create his own food challenges? He’s eating so much food! Babe! We don’t have that much food to be eating in one day! 

Oh god… please Kuroo, please stop encouraging him. Well, at least he’s not making his own anymore, he’s just doing food challenges-“

Day 21- 10:05am

“He tried to do the milk challenge. The one where you try to drink a gallon of milk in one go. I don’t need him crying and vomiting because of it.”

Day 21- 3:18pm

“I’ve been helping him work out. It’s helping him stay relaxed and chill. He just can’t sit still. So at this moment, I’m sitting on his feet watching tv while he does crunches behind me. This is kinda nice. I like doing this. Maybe once he starts doing push ups, I’ll lay under him and get a kiss each time he comes down.”

Day 22- 10:05am

“We watched The Lion King and now Kou has taken the cat and lifted it up above his head like Rafiki did with Simba. He’s hanging out the window and now Kuroo is rounding up all of the stuffed animals his girlfriend has and any animal shaped object in his house and putting them on his lawn. Kou doesn’t know the words to the song, but he tries. This may be the weirdest thing they have done to date.”

Day 22- 11am

“I think the cat is traumatized. It keeps running away from Kou when he comes near. Now I have a depressed boyfriend and a terrified cat. I wanna be mad, but he’s so cute when he sulks. Plus, he cuddles me when he’s upset. I like that part.”

Day 24- 9:43am

“So, he's rearranged the living room. As I’m writing, he’s moving the couch I’m sitting on… again. I liked how we had it, but he needs to stay occupied. I’d rather him do this than to try to create an indoor slip and slide like he was gonna do.”

Day 24- 1:28pm

“He’s passing the volleyball back and forth with Kuroo. At least he’s still able to socialize, even if it is from a distance. I can see him want to spike the ball over the fence. He says it’s the perfect height. But it’s not safe since the backyard is so small and both of them are so tall… how?!? How are they so tall?!? 

I’ve taken this time to work on a few projects that I’ve been trying to finish for a while now. I’ve got a blanket I’m making for Kou that I haven’t had time to work on, I’ve needed to finish that birthday present for my mom, there’s a tv show that I’ve been wanting to start, but Kou isn’t interested in it. Today has been fun. And our furniture ended up in exactly the same place it was when we woke up. I think he just wanted to see what our options are.

6 more days and hopefully, we are free from this mess.”

Day 28- 11:35am

“Almost there! Kou and I have handled this pretty well. We’ve fought a few times, but nothing worth mentioning. I’ve come to realize that even though he can be destructive and air headed, he’s also so sweet and compassionate, it’s probably the reason I fell in love with him. I couldn’t have done this without him. I would have gone crazy!

There’s a press conference tomorrow regarding the quarantine. God I hope this is over. I can’t stand to see him so desperate to get out of the house. He’s FaceTiming with Akaashi again. Their friendship is so sweet and pure. Maybe we will adopt Akaashi? I’ll run it by him.”

Day 28- 11:43am

“Akaashi said no.”

At 8am, 29 days into this national quarantine, a well dressed man took to an empty room and faced the camera. The broadcast was live and you were sure everyone was watching. 

You took in a deep breath, squeezing Koutaro’s hand a bit too tight. Nervous, annoyed, a bit nutty; all of these could easily describe how you felt having been cooped up for 29 days.

After a moment to go over his notes, he spoke, “citizens, your cooperation in this time of need and crisis has been noticed. It is understood and acknowledged that the hardships and issues you face staying indoors for so long. It is with that that I must regretfully inform you…”

Day 29- 8:02am

“Fuck.”

[hopeisour4letteredword]

innocent bones ch2

Summary: Apollo gets a wake-up call in a few ways. It’s okay, though--he’s got best-friend backup.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

“Goood morning, sunshine!”

“Blrgh,” Apollo says, more to his pillow than Clay. He rolls over and pulls the blankets over his head.

“Oh, are we grouchy this morning? I can drink both of these by myself if you wanna be left alone.”

Apollo peeks out from the covers warily. Clay dangles an iced drink in a plastic café cup tantalizingly over the bed. The morning is already hot, and only promises to get hotter; Apollo knows by the time he has proper clothes on, he’ll want something cold and sweet. He sighs and kicks the sheets aside, stretching.

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“Why were you sleeping with one sock on?”

Apollo looks down. Sure enough, he still has on the sock he’d yanked on at three in the morning. “...Fuck me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Clay says, batting his eyelashes, then cackles as Apollo swings a pillow at him and chases him around the room. When they reach the kitchenette, Clay successfully diverts his attention to a small paper bag of baked goods. Apollo allows him to exchange the pillow for a chocolate croissant. “To answer your question, I’m here to chill with my best friend on my day off, like we’ve been planning for, oh, the last three weeks?”

Shit. That’s right. Apollo scrubs the crust of sleep from his eyes, shoulders slumping. “Sorry. I remember now.”

Clay smiles easily and slides him the drink. Apollo sips. Peachy oolong tea with lemonade. “No harm, no foul. Seriously, though. Why the sock?”

“I had the most surreal fucking night,” Apollo says, and tells him about it. Clay starts laughing uproariously as soon as he mentions the teeth. He doesn’t stop until Apollo concludes with Prosecutor Debeste’s intervention.

“Oh, man,” Clay chuckles, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “How does this shit happen to you?”

“If I knew, don’t you think I would try to stop it?”

“I don’t know, would you?” Clay smirks maddeningly and bites into his muffin. Through a mouthful of crumbs, he drawls, “I’m sure you suffered so much with a handsome man vying for your attention.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you disgusting goblin.”

“Ach, Herr Forehead,” Clay says, in the worst fake German accent Apollo has ever heard. “When I’m sad and lonely, you’re the first one I think of to cheer me up. Oh, how I wish you were here with me—“

Apollo seizes the pillow again. Clay rushes to get a grip on it before he can take a swing. They struggle for control until they both tip out of their chairs and go crashing to the hard, unforgiving linoleum floor in a heap.

“Ow,” Clay says. “Huh. I’ve had more exciting tumbles.”

“And Mr. Starbuck trusts you to pilot a rocket with him,” Apollo scoffs, feeling a bit ow himself.

“Please, I’m much nicer to Mr. Starbuck than I am to you, I don’t have to worry about fighting with him.”

They attempt to sit up. Clay somehow maneuvers their tangled limbs apart without injury to either of them. Apollo moves to stand, but Clay slings his legs across Apollo’s own before he can go anywhere.

“Hey,” Clay says, low and serious. “For real. You okay? You didn’t have any new nightmares because of all that, did you?”

Apollo winces. “...No.”

“What was that face for?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re an awful liar and you know it.” Clay frowns, concern creasing his brow. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But I’m here for you, dude.”

“I know, space cadet. Calm down.”

“Alright, alright.”

Clay moves his legs out of the way. It’s Apollo’s turn to interrupt him before he can rise by dropping his head onto Clay’s shoulder.

“Worse than a nightmare,” he mutters.

“What? What’s worse than a nightma—oh, my God,” Clay gasps. “You had a sex dream?!”

“WH—NO!”

“MY BABY BOY IS GROWING UP!”

“I DID NOT HAVE A SEX DREAM!”

Apollo tries to smack him. Clay catches his hand and wrestles him into a headlock.

“The most important thing to remember is that this is a normal part of puberty,” Clay says, solemnly, even as Apollo shrieks with dismay. “Every growing boy—“

“I WILL KICK YOUR ASS.”

“Like you could? Alright, sunshine, let’s hear it. What’s worse than a nightmare, aside from a sex dream?”

“I don’t want to tell you anymore,” Apollo says, sulkily, voice muffled by Clay’s arm.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Clay pats his head with his free hand. Apollo grumbles some more. “Is it really that embarrassing?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then it’s about feelings.”

“Wh—how did you—I mean, what makes you think that?!” Real smooth, Justice. Apollo can feel the hot flush of mortification on his face.

“Honestly, dumbass, how long have we been friends? You think I don’t know how your brain works as well as you know mine?”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Yeah, you’re busy saving all your affection for Klav—ow! Don’t hit me!”

“Shut up! God.”

“You know you get to have a crush, right? That’s normal and okay.”

“I don’t want to have a crush,” Apollo moans, hopelessly. Clay finally releases him from the headlock so he takes the opportunity to bury his face in his hands. He hates catching feelings. He always blows it somehow. It doesn’t help that they never have these conversations anywhere less weird than the kitchen floor. “He’s my colleague. I need to be professional. Our working relationship is too important for me to fuck this up.”

“He got lonely while he was high on painkillers and called you at three AM and you’re still going on about professionalism?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“That’s because it is stupid.”

“Your face is stupid.”

“I’m serious, man. Like, if you wanted concrete evidence that he considers you a friend outside of your working relationship, it just got handed to you on a silver platter. There’s no way you’re the first friend he’s ever had that’s been a little into him.”

“...I guess that’s true.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s a little into you too.”

Apollo gives him an incredulous look.

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to you in the last year, that’s all I’m saying! And he has an awful lot of nice things to say about you for a courtroom rival.”

“We’re not rivals,” Apollo says, mostly on automatic. Clay ruffles his hair as they clamber to their feet.

“Sure, sure. Hey, speaking of things he has to say, has he said anything to you this morning?”

“How should I know? Somebody bullied me out of bed and I left my phone behind.”

“I’ll go get it, you eat breakfast.”

Apollo finishes his croissant. After a moment, Clay tosses his phone at him.

“Do I really have to check it right now?”

“If you’re gonna be such a big baby about it, I can check it for you.”

“Ugh. No, fine, I’ll look.”

Klavier Gavin, 9:04am

hey, i just wanted to apologize for last night. i hope i didn’t scare you too badly. i remember you saying i owed you one, so let me know if you come up with a way i can apologize.

Apollo lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Clay makes a questioning sound and a grabby hand gesture. Apollo passes his phone over, obligingly, and steals a chunk of Clay’s muffin while he reads it for himself.

“Totally normal,” Clay says. “See? It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” Apollo echoes. He takes his phone back and sips absentmindedly at his iced tea as he types.

Apollo Justice, 10:38am

I’m going to change your contact name to “Teeth Theft Victim.”

How’s your mouth this morning?

Klavier Gavin, 10:39am

HF no :(

not the worst. definitely not as bad as it was last night!

i had some painkillers when i got up. mostly just feels a little weird rn

Apollo Justice, 10:41am

That sounds about right.

Klavier Gavin, 10:42am

did you get back to sleep okay?

Apollo Justice, 10:43am

Yeah, I’m fine.

Klavier Gavin, 10:43am

you’re always fine, HF ;P

Apollo Justice, 10:44am

I bet you think you’re clever.

I got plenty of sleep. Don’t worry.

Klavier Gavin, 10:45am

i am sincerely sorry though. seriously, let me know if i can make it up to you somehow

“Do I actually seem angry?” Apollo asks Clay, mystified. Clay peers over his shoulder at the message thread. “He didn’t really do anything wrong, considering his mental state at the time. I’m not trying to be brusque with him.”

“Tell him to take you out for coffee,” Clay says.

“What? Why? Where did that come from?”

Apollo Justice, 10:47am

All you have to do is not call me at 3AM saying ominous things without context again.

I know this is a terribly high bar to meet, but I have faith that you’ll rise to the occasion.

Klavier Gavin, 10:48am

you really thought i was actively dying, didn’t you?

were you actually on your way out the door?

Apollo Justice, 10:49am

I thought you had gotten roofied. Of course I was on my way out the door.

Klavier Gavin, 10:50am

my knight in shining armor ;)

“TELL HIM TO TAKE YOU OUT FOR COFFEE,” Clay yells, aggressively shaking Apollo by the shoulder. Apollo yelps and almost drops his phone.

“He’s always like this! It doesn’t mean anything!”

“I WILL DO IT MYSELF.”

“Do what yourself?! Take him out for coffee?! Fine! I hope you’re very happy together!”

“God, and you mean it, too. You’re hopeless, AJ. No game at all. Give me your phone.”

“NO!”

Apollo Justice, 10:52am

awerrttrtrtFSDFFG

Klavier Gavin, 10:52am

?? HF??

Apollo Justice, 10:53am

BRB

Have tio kickmny friendsd ass

Apollo does not kick Clay’s ass, because Clay has fifty pounds of muscle on him and Apollo hasn’t gotten in a real fight since he was a middle schooler, but he damn well tries. It’s the effort that counts. Maybe. Hopefully.

Apollo Justice, 11:12am

COFFREERE

Klavier Gavin, 11:14am

??????

Apollo Justice, 11:15am

TAKE HIM OUT TO COFFEE

Klavier Gavin, 11:16am

who am i speaking to??

Apollo Justice, 11:17am

DONT QWORRT ABT UT

Klavier Gavin, 11:18am

i’m a little worried about it

is Herr Justice okay??

Apollo Justice, 11:18am

YEA HES FINE

IM BULLYING HIMN

Klavier Gavin, 11:20am

that doesn’t sound very fine

Apollo Justice, 11:21am

I am so fucking sorry.

Klavier Gavin, 11:21am

are you alright?

Apollo Justice, 11:23am

I’m fine.

I’m with a friend right now and he decided to be obnoxious.

Klavier Gavin, 11:24am

by which i suppose you

mean he stole your phone

Klavier Gavin, 11:25am

That and putting me in a headlock.

Klavier Gavin, 11:25am

:(

Apollo Justice, 11:26am

I’m fine, honestly. We roughhouse all the time.

It’s mostly my pride that hurts.

“Bet you ten bucks he offers to kiss it better,” Clay says, slurping obnoxiously at the dregs of his iced tea. As winner’s spoils, he has retained eavesdropping privileges. Textdropping? Wiretapping? Fuck it, Apollo doesn’t know.

“He will not,” Apollo says, through gritted teeth, valiantly attempting to suppress the red-hot surge of embarrassment to his cheeks.

Klavier Gavin, 11:28am

well then, we all know you’ll survive that one :P

Apollo Justice, 11:30am

Ouch. Rub more salt in the wound, why don’t you?

“You owe me ten bucks,” Apollo announces.

“You motherfucker, you didn’t even take the bet!”

“It was implied! You would have made me give you ten dollars.”

Clay grudgingly pulls out his wallet and gives Apollo a five, three ones, and a fistful of change. He hands it over way too fast to have figured out how much the change is worth, but then Clay is actually good at numbers shit, so maybe he did. Anyway, Apollo cares more about the principle of the exchange than receiving exactly ten dollars.

Klavier Gavin, 11:31am

i prefer to think of it as a salve to help you heal faster

Apollo Justice, 11:32am

By making fun of me?

Klavier Gavin, 11:33am

by reminding u that u can pull through these hard times!

Apollo Justice, 11:34am

Sure.

Klavier Gavin, 11:35am

but hey, for real. do you want to go out for coffee sometime?

“YES,” Clay hollers, victoriously. Apollo wants to curl up under the table and die of mortification.

“I can’t believe you. He thinks he has to do this because I got inconvenienced last night. This is stupid, Clay, why would you do this to us?”

“Because,” Clay says, “He flirts with you, constantly, and you’re who he calls at three AM when he’s in pain and he wants to talk to someone to distract him, and you have a crush that can be seen from space. It’s my job as your best friend.”

“It’s really not.”

“Uh-huh. Tell the nice man you’ll go out for coffee with him.”

Apollo Justice, 11:39am

You really don’t have to take me out just because of what happened last night.

Clay was being absurd.

Klavier Gavin, 11:41am

okay, sure, i understand

but do you WANT to?

Apollo Justice, 11:42am

I mean. Yeah.

If you’re sure.

Klavier Gavin, 11:43am

i’m positive :)

Apollo Justice, 11:44am

Then coffee would be cool.

“Cool,” Clay echoes. “God, AJ, you’re a mess. I love you so much. Cool, he says, when the actual rockstar asks him out on a date.”

“You bullied the rockstar into asking me on a date,” Apollo snaps, red-faced.

“I didn’t do a damn thing to him except offer a suggestion. He didn’t get put in a headlock.”

Klavier Gavin, 11:45am

Großartig! i have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, but perhaps tuesday?

Apollo Justice, 11:46am

Tuesday is fine.

What time? Where are we going?

Klavier Gavin, 11:48am

let’s say 3pm? and it’s a surprise ;)

Apollo Justice, 11:49am

I won’t be footing the bill if you drag me out to some weird, fancy upscale tea bar.

Klavier Gavin, 11:50am

nein, don’t be ridiculous. it’s my treat

“Ooh, what a gentleman!”

“Can’t you stop reading over my shoulder and let me set this up in peace now?!”

“No, I just scored you a date and you elbowed me very hard in the stomach earlier. I earned this.”

Apollo Justice, 11:52am

Does that mean it IS a weird, fancy upscale tea bar?

Klavier Gavin, 11:53am

actually it means i haven’t decided yet

Apollo Justice, 11:54am

Ah. Foolish me, then.

How am I supposed to get there if it’s a surprise?

Klavier Gavin, 11:55am

oh, you can just meet me at my office and i’ll drive us there

...unless you’re still afraid of my motorcycle? :P

Apollo Justice, 11:58am

I’m not afraid.

But you better have a second helmet.

Klavier Gavin, 12:00pm

don’t i always, Schatz?

“You go on his motorcycle?” Clay says, outraged and oblivious while Apollo can feel himself going scarlet from the roots of his hair all the way down to his collar. “This is so unfair. You’ll barely get in a car with me, and you’re terrified of motorcycles. How long did it take you to realize you like this guy again?”

Through gritted teeth, Apollo says, “You drive like you’re trying to die young, and Klavier is the only person I know who consistently follows every single traffic law to the letter.”

“Sounds like—“

“Also, we work together, and basically every time I’ve gotten a ride from him has been to or from case-relevant locations.”

“—Like excuses to me. What does Schatz mean, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Apollo lies. Clay’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He’s not that oblivious, then.

“Uh-huh.”

Apollo Justice, 12:04pm

I guess so.

Klavier Gavin, 12:05pm

so tuesday at 3pm, meeting at my office, then?

Apollo Justice, 12:06pm

Works for me.

I have to go, I’m supposed to be hanging out with Clay today. But I’ll see you Tuesday?

Klavier Gavin, 12:09pm

tuesday it is! i can’t wait to see you ;)

and tell your friend i said danke, ja?

Apollo Justice, 12:11pm

Thanks, he wasn’t already being insufferable enough.

“Oh I’m the fucking best,” Clay says, gleefully. Apollo tries to hide a smile, but it’s pointless. Clay has already thrown an arm around his shoulders to squeeze him in a tight side-hug. “Who is the best friend in the whole wide world who probably just got you laid?”

“Clay.”

“Remember this when I’m done with my mission and I have time to date again, okay? I expect equally enthusiastic wing-manning from you.”

“You have literally never needed me to wingman for you,” Apollo says, with fond exasperation. “Besides, what happened to that alien boyfriend you keep insisting you’ll come back with?”

“Well, maybe he’ll only be my alien work-friend when I come back, and I’ll need my dear friend to help me push past my misconceptions about professionalism to find true love.”

“Good grief,” Apollo says, as the blush that had been steadily dying down on his face flares back to life. “True love? It’s one coffee date. Slow it on down.”

Clay opens his mouth, probably with the intent to say more wild shit about Apollo’s upcoming date (a date! With Klavier! Is Apollo still in a weird exhaustion-induced feelings dream?), so Apollo hurriedly jumps in to say, “So how did you want to spend your day off? Video games? Movies?”

“I want to kick your ass at Smash Bros,” Clay says.

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Almost as easily as we just arranged—“

“Pushing your luck, Terran.”

“I learned that from the very best,” Clay says, nudging Apollo’s shoulder with his own with a fond grin. Apollo can’t help but smile back.

“I guess you did.”

[jisungsmochi]

fallin’ for you - lee jeno

strangers to friends to lovers oooooo

based off the song ‘Fallin’ For You’ by R5 (references to the song are in italics)

summary: lee jeno was captivated by your unique sense of style, your ability to present yourself as your own individual. after finally becoming your boyfriend, he made it his mission to make it explicitly clear how much he was falling for you.

word count: 3.9k (this may be the longest one i have written oops) 

————————————————————-

[8:43am]

it was an average day. you walked into school with your head held high, uniform in pristine condition. but you couldn’t ignore the amount of eyes that were focused on your lower half. at first you had though that you put on your skirt backwards, but it came to you that they were staring at your feet, in particular your mismatched��socks. they were stained with accents of purple and yellow which was a stark contrast to your school colours, navy and maroon. it was intentional. you were probably going to be put into detention if a teacher called you out, but you didn’t mind.

the stares continued, all up until you met with jeno. he laughed in amusement before pulling you in for an embrace

“babe, loving the socks” he complimented

“clearly a lot of people here aren’t fans of it” you roll your eyes

“well i’m a fan, your biggest fan if i say so myself!” he smiled brightly before placing an arm over your shoulders and walking with you.

it amazed you as to how well you and jeno complimented each other. you weren’t as different as you had originally thought. you met him last year, in your PE class.

although you weren’t the most coordinated person, you still tried your best in each sport you played. in particular, volleyball. every time your class would play volleyball, people would ask you before hand if you would join their team. you didn’t think you were that amazing, but you did acknowledge that you had some interest in the game.

[2:15pm]

it was the last period on a rainy friday, when the teacher decided to play an indoor sport, which happened to be volleyball.

you were placed into jeno‘s team, in which the captain of the other team, donghyuck was infuriated due to his attempts to coerce you to be on his team. 

jeno greeted you kindly, shaking your hand before saying “you’re our secret weapon”

you chuckled at his compliment before taking your position.

it was thrilling to be playing, especially when you could hear jeno’s constant praise

“you’re doing so well, y/n! you’re so awesome!” which made you blush, but you played it off as you were getting tired.

after the game had ended, with your team’s victory, jeno chased after you before you headed to the locker rooms.

“hey y/n! i was wondering if you would like to get pizza with me? like after you get changed and everything, but you don’t have to if you’re tired! oh my god you should go rest at home-“

“i’d love to! just give me about 10 minutes!” you smiled at him widely

before heading into the locker rooms.

jeno stood outside nervously rubbing his palms onto his shorts.

donghyuck approached him, before teasing “i can’t believe you actually asked her out! props to you dude!” he winked.

“nah man she probably just thinks i’m treating her for helping us win, it’s no biggie” jeno played it off.

“you’re not fooling me bro, you have heart eyes for her and honestly it’s kinda cute” donghyuck persisted, which made jeno slightly blush.

“she wouldn’t go for me dude, she’s kinda out of my league, don’t you reckon?” jeno nervously stammered.

“you’ll never know unless you try! wow that was hella corny, i’m gonna jet now. have fun and text the group chat, because you sure as hell know i’m texting them everything” he smirked before jogging out of the hall. jeno shook his head in disbelief before being met with you tapping his shoulder.

“ready to go?” you swung your bag over your shoulder and began walking beside him. he nodded in agreement, beginning to talk about how well you did in the game.

[4:02pm]

the pizza parlour was quite busy. plenty of little kids running about, playing some of the gaming machines they had installed. there were families out for dinner, catching up on recent events.

you sat across from lee jeno, who was arguably one of the most handsome boys you had ever seen.

“what’s your least favourite subject?” he asked with gleaming eyes

“probably maths, i just can’t seem to understand it all too well” you shrugged.

he nods before taking a look at your pizza slice that had been left on the plate for quite sometime.

“oh are you not hungry?” he questioned, worried that maybe you didn’t like pizza.

“no no, i am! i just prefer cold pizza? i don’t know, it’s super weird, but i like it” you smile awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t think you’re a complete weirdo.

he starts chuckling softly, “you’re really interesting, you know that?”

“bad interesting or good interesting?” you furrowed your eyebrows before finally taking a bite.

“the best kind of interesting”

————————-

from that day on, you would always notice him in the halls. he would wave to you and give you a small nod before continuing conversations with his friends. you would approach him during class at times when you didn’t understand a question and he would try his absolute hardest to help you out, even if he didn’t know the answers himself.

it was fair to say that you had started to crush on him. but you were still unsure of how he felt towards you.

—————————

a few weeks had passed, until it was jaemin’s birthday. he had invited everyone his classes to attend his house party. at first, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go, because you didn’t have a ride to or from the party. you still took jaemin’s invitation, which had been neatly printed on some glossy paper, and tucked it into your bag. recently, jeno would help you with your maths homework and continue to help you with problems you were stuck on. in return, you would play volleyball with him after school if the coach allowed you guys to stay back.

[3:44pm]

at one of your volleyball sessions, jeno was running late. you were just about ready to pack up and head home, when a sweaty jeno came running towards you, almost pushing you over. he grabbed you before you would hit the floor, your faces incredibly close. you let out a small chuckle before standing up straight.

“i’m sorry i’m late, i had detention on the other side of school and i had to bolt here, hoping you hadn’t left yet” he stuttered, due to the shortness of breath he had.

“it’s okay! let’s go get some ice cream or something” you shrugged, pulling him out of the hall.

while you were seated, waiting for him to collect your ice creams, you pulled out jaemin’s invitation.

“here you go!” he handed you your ice cream, before letting his eyes land on the invitation.

“are you going?” he asked innocently, looking up at you whilst licking his ice cream.

“i don’t have a way to get there and back, but i do want to go” you answered honestly.

“i can take you? i mean, if you want? i’m sleeping at jaemin’s anyway, and i can pick you up on the way there so we can help set up” he smiled widely, internally hoping you would agree.

“really? you would drive me all the way there and home?” you were surprised that he offered, which made your heart feel warm.

“yeah it’s not a problem! i want you to come” jeno’s eyes widened at his words.

you softly laughed along, continuing to eat your ice cream.

[4:50pm]

you heard a knock on your front door, and went rushing to answer it. you were met with jeno, dressed in a white buttoned up shirt and some black jeans. it was simple but he looked incredibly handsome.

you decided to opt with wearing a mid-length black dress with daisies plastered all over it.

“ready to go?” he acknowledged before leading you to his car.

“you’re a good driver right?” you buckled yourself into the seat, holding your bag in your lap before meeting eyes with the boy.

“i’ve been told i am!” he proudly announced before beginning to drive.

“who told you that? your mum?” you joked.

“actually yeah” he shyly responded, causing you both to laugh.

“i really like your laugh, jeno” you complimented, which made him almost stop in his tracks.

“t-thank you, i like yours as well” he muttered back, not making eye contact with you. you couldn’t help but notice the flush of pink on his cheeks.

as you arrived at jaemin’s house, most of the decorations were already set up. jaemin has asked you and jeno and set up floaties around the pool area in case people wanted to swim.

“are you swimming tonight?” you asked jeno, while placing some chairs onto the grass.

“uh maybe yeah, you didn’t bring a swimsuit, did you?” he asked

“oh that’s where you’re wrong, it was on the invitation! of course i brought a swimsuit. but i only really like swimming at night, when the moon is full, god that’s strange isn’t it?” you mumble to yourself, hoping he didn’t hear the last sentence.

“no, i think it’s cool, we can swim together then, when everyone leaves” he suggests, avoiding eye contact once again. you were starting to get annoyed with his inability to face you when he complimented you. that would change later tonight.

[9:17pm]

the party wasn’t as wild as you had initially expected. nothing crazy happened, people were happily drinking and taking blurry photos with their friends. jaemin was smiling all the way through, eventually thanking you for your gift, which was a customised starbucks cup for his caffeinated needs.

you stuck with jeno most of the night, you were just more comfortable in his presence. the amount of people soon died down, leaving only jaemin’s close friends and you.

“hey jeno, umm are you taking me home now?” you tapped him softly, causing him to fully face you.

“oh yeah, but i uh, don’t worry it’s dumb”

“no what is it?” you were hoping he would bring it up.

“it’s just, i thought we were going to swim together” he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glued to the ground. you stepped towards him, placed your hands on the sides of his face, letting his eyes meet yours.

“say it to me again” your words shocked him.

“do you want to swim with me?” he asked.

“of course you idiot” you smirked before removing your dress, where your swimsuit laid under.

you sunk yourself into the pool, paddling around for a bit. jeno admired you in awe, the way your hair glistened under the moonlight.

he met you in the pool, first doing some small laps before meeting you in the middle.

you didn’t know what came over you but you paddled closer to him. he stayed in the same spot, watching as you slowly approached him.

“hey” you whispered

“hi” he replied back, not noticing how close you had gotten to his face.

“can i tell you something?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, instinctively wrapping your legs around his torso.

“s-sure” his breath fanned across your nose, causing you to smile.

“i really like you. and my heart is beating out of my chest right now.” you confessed, causing his eyes to widen, making him speechless.

“you don’t have to say anything yet. i’ll wait for you” you smiled, caressing his wet hair slowly.

“can i kiss you?” he whispered so softly.

you nodded eagerly, closing your eyes as he leaned closer to you. your hands were running the back of his neck, gliding through his wet hair. his lips fanned over yours, you were beginning to get impatient.

you sealed the kiss, whilst his hands moved on your sides.

the kiss didn’t go for too long, you both pulled away, slightly giggling at eachother.

“you’re so cute” you whispered under your breath, causing him to flash you his adorable eye smile.

“and so are you” he smirked before placing a small peck on your lips.

“ah fuck, jeno and y/n are making out guys!” donghyuck’s voice echoed, resuting in the rest of the boys rushing to the backyard.

“freaking finally” renjun cheered, before giving donghyuck a high five.

“could you guys not? it’s my pool” jaemin chuckled.

you and jeno quickly untangled yourselves. you ran out of the pool, most likely your entire face was flushed red.

“i-i’m sorry! i’ll go home now!” you quickly packed your things.

“i’m your ride though” jeno came up behind you and placed his arm protectingly on your waist.

“oh yeah right, thank you” you mumbled, leaning yourself into his chest.

“you can stay over if you want, i’m sure jeno would like it” jaemin offered, before smirking at the last remark, which caused you to go even more red.

“are you okay with staying?” jeno mumbled in your ear which sent a shiver down your spine.

“i-i mean sure, my parents aren’t home anyway” you shrugged slightly, facing jeno, giving him a small smile.

he nodded gleefully, leading you inside and past the group of boys. they all made their way to their designated sleeping spots in the living room. you followed jeno to the bathroom, before hopping in to quickly rinse yourself.

jeno has given you some sweat pants and one of his extra shirts to wear for the night. as you were getting changed, you could hear him talking to someone.

“dude, you hit the jackpot! she’s finally yours!” the voice, who you assumed was jaemin, exclaimed.

“yeah i guess, but i still have to take her out on a proper date you know?” jeno sighed.

“you guys have been on plenty of dates already! she’s into you dude, don’t hurt her because of your tendency to overthink okay?”

it was silent for a while, until you decided to exit the bathroom, acting as if you hadn’t heard a thing.

“y/n, jaemin said you could sleep in one of the guest rooms, if you’re not comfortable sleeping around us guys” jeno softly chuckled. you nodded in agreement before wrapping your arms around him.

“can you stay with me?” you mumbled into his chest, not realising that jaemin has slowly crept away from you two.

“you want me to sleep with you hm?” jeno could not wipe the smile off of his face, embracing you into his chest.

you looked up at him and gave him a small peck on his jaw before tugging on his sweater.

he led you to the guest room, saying goodnight to the boys before shutting the door.

he made his way to sit with you on the bed, gliding one of his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“i really really like you y/n” he mumbled into your shoulder, running small circles on your side.

“i really like you too, jeno” you responded before taking his hand in yours and intertwining them.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he avoided making eye contact with you once again. you turned towards him, making him face you, head on, with his hands holding yours.

“of course i’ll be your girlfriend” you smiled at him, before leaning in for another soft kiss. this time, his hands cupped your cheeks, moving your lips along with his. it was kind of sloppy, not all so sweet, but to you, it made you feel on cloud nine.

———————-

a few months into the relationship, you and jeno were cruising through it. you two weren’t completely all over eachother at school, nor when around the guys. you had both agreed to just simple hand holding, small hugs and soft kisses here and there.

[1:21pm]

one day, jeno invited you over to his house, to catch up on homework as well as spend a whole day together. it was your first time going over to his house, and you were kinda nervous to say the least. you began to have an unsettling feeling in your stomach, your relationship had essentially upgraded to the next level.

as jeno was sat next to you at his dining room table, scratching his head at the current essay question in front of him.

you were distracted from your own work, taking a moment to fully enhance yourself in the beauty that is lee jeno. the way his glasses slid midway on his nose, how he nibbles at his lip when trying to find the perfect response, how he subtly taps his fingers on the top of the table to concentrate.

“babe, stop staring, you’re throwing me off my game” he muttered beside you, giggling at his own words.

“i’m sorry you’re so good looking” you flirted with him, nudging his shoulder with your own. he looked up at you, shooting a classic eye smile, before placing a quick peck on your forehead and continuing to plan his essay.

after that day, you truly couldn’t help but feel more attracted to jeno. seeing him in his natural state, away from the hustle and bustle of school, made your heart swoon. he was extra cuddly and affectionate when you both were alone, which you thoroughly enjoyed. but you still had doubts, that maybe he was way too good to be true.

he was such an amazing boyfriend. he spoiled you with extra packed sandwiches for lunch, he surprised you with flowers the evening of one of your bad days. he was the embodiment of perfect. but you on the other hand, felt like you had to compete. you felt like you had to match his actions, otherwise, you weren’t good enough. the nights you spent dwelling on your emotions, ended in quiet sobs. you wanted to be good enough for lee jeno, god you wanted to give him the world. that’s when you realised, you were falling for him. hard. and you couldn’t pull yourself out even if you tried.

[8:32am]

on a warm summer’s day, you quickly made your way past the school gates, instantly being met with jeno calling your name. you turned quickly, before being embraced by his arms.

“i missed you so much!” he mumbled into your shoulder, causing you to chuckle softly.

“jeno, we didn’t talk for just one weekend!”

“well i still missed you! how was the trip with your family anyway?” he continued the conversation. you were slightly annoyed that he hadn’t realised you had undergone a significant outward change. over the weekend with your family, you decided to cut your hair to just below your shoulders, and also coloured it a light, but subtle brown. your oblivious boyfriend had yet to point it out.

“yeah it was fun, did some kayaking, some board games, oh! we even went to like this aquarium type place-“

“babe” he suddenly interrupted.

“hm?” you paused briefly, hoping he had noticed.

“your hair! it looks amazing, gosh who let you look this good?!” he exclaimed, brushing his fingers softly through your new styled hair. you let out a laugh, gently pushing his shoulders back.

“took you long enough!” you teased “do you like it? i was kind of worried, it’s the first time i properly got a short type of cut” you rambled, looking at the ground.

“babe, you can change your hair, five times a week if you want to! it wouldn’t change the how gorgeous i think you are!” he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before taking your hand in his and walking you to your first class. you tried to hide the slight blush on your cheeks, this boy was going to be the death of you.

[6:18pm]

jeno was over at your house this time. you both sat, backs against the wall, while your legs sprawled over the bed. he had his arm around you, with his hand resting at your side. his head rested above your own, as he slowing placed kisses while you were both watching random videos online.

“jeno” you softly mumbled.

“yes?” he slowly moved himself so that you were able to face him.

“i have to get this off my chest, i feel so bad for not talking to you about this sooner-“

“wait, are you breaking up with me ? because i am so sorry if i have been a lousy boyfriend! it’s just that exams have drained me so mu-“

“oh my god no! i’m not breaking up with you!” you have him a panicked look before watching his facial expression soften.

“oh, that’s good. what’s up then?” he still had his arm around your torso, slowing rubbing your side.

“it’s just, i’m scared. i’m scared that one day you will just get up and leave. and i know that you won’t ever want to do that to me. but i just don’t see myself as somebody that’s worth sticking around. i’m scared you won’t be there for me.” tears brimmed your eyes. you took a small breath before burying your head into his shoulder. he was speechless, trying to find the right words to say.

“baby, i swear, i’m not going anywhere. as i have said before, you can change your hair, you could even change your name! okay that’s a bit crazy. but look, you are so much more than you give yourself credit for. those times where you would dance in the rain on the way home because you felt like people weren’t looking. when you choose to wear second hand clothing because you feel bad for wasting money on branded items. before we got together, i admired your ability to be your own person. to separate yourself from everybody else, in the most humble way possible. i admired your character. and i am so drawn to you, i don’t even know how i got so lucky. i’m falling for you so hard y/n. i love you”

at this point your were truly crying. your sobs wouldn’t stop. you embraced him deeply, letting your tears soak part of his hoodie.

“jeno, that was absolutely beautiful. you make me feel beautiful. i just want to be enough for you, because you deserve the world. and i hope that i can give you everything to make you happy. because god, your smile is what gets me through every day we have been together. what i’m trying to say is, i love you too. and i have never been more sure in my life on something before you came” you both were now tearing up. he pulled your face closer to his, staring at your lips. you wanted this more than anything. he made you feel secure. he made you feel you were on top of the world.

it didn’t take long for you to close the gap between you two. your hands reached for the sides of his face, pulling him closer if that were possible. one of his hands was attached to your waist, whilst the other landed on your cheek, slowing wiping away your tears.

as you pulled away, his eyes met yours.

“never change. not for anyone. promise me” he mumbled quietly, still prepared to attach your lips again.

“i promise” you answered instantly before allowing him to initiate the kiss.

he was head over heels for you, and all your quirks. finally, someone who accepted you for who you were.

[lovemesomesurveys]

“she acts like summer and walks like rain”

The power goes out. What are three things that you have taken for granted? I mean, it depends how long it goes out for. I’ve only experienced that for a couple hours at most from what I can recall, so. Although, the worst to me is when it happens for any length of time during the summer because it instantly feels like a sauna in my house and it’s absolutely miserable. D: It happened a few times this past summer during a heat wave with triple digit temps... not fun. But yeah, that’s the only thing that really bothers me from my experience. I just mess around on my phone, play Animal Crossing, read, or just chill with the fam. My dad acts like it’s the end of the world lol like a couple minutes in he’s like, “what are we going to do for food?? I think we might have to get a hotel or something, we can’t stay here with no power.” lol.

Have you ever done the Polar Bear plunge on New Years? I’ve never done it and never would. Nooo thanks. I don’t swim or get into the ocean, lake, or river for one, for two, diving into freezing cold temperatures sounds horrific. It’d probably shock my body and kill me.

Name lyrics that include the word "baby" in them. “Oh baby, you got what I need, but you say I’m just a friend.”

You get to choose your middle name! It must begin with the letter H. Nah.

Have you ever had a Halloween party? Yeah. I had one when I was in like 2nd grade and invited kids from my class over. I had a few smaller, more just like hangouts, with my cousins or friend as well. The most recent was like 4 years ago. I’ve been to more Halloween parties than I’ve thrown, though. 

Would you rather have a plant cactus or venus flytrap? A cactus.

Are you better at crosswords or word searches? I love word searches. 

Would you rather have a water balloon fight or a paint ball fight? I’ve only had water balloon fights, back when I was a kid. I wouldn’t want to have either one now. Running around and getting hit with stuff just doesn’t sound fun. I don’t have the energy for all that. Also paint ball fights sound especially painful.

Do you like being told what to do? In some cases I might need a little push or can’t decide on something so I’ll sometimes ask someone what I should do. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen, but it can be helpful. I don’t like when someone tells me what to do as a command. I’m super stubborn, so being told to do something just makes me not want to do said thing even more, even if I already planned on doing it.

What would you do if you were attacked by thugs? If I was attacked by anyone I wouldn’t be able to do a whole lot.

Do you have a favorite word? I can never think of one on the spot when asked.

On what circumstances would you break up with someone? If they cheated on me I might, but I can’t say for sure. It would depend on a few things. I’d also like to think I would if there was abuse. I feel like I would, but I’ve never been in that situation and I know it’s not always that simple.

Have you ever been kicked out of a store? No.

What's your worst subject? Math was always my worst subject.

What are 3 things that make you happy? God, my family (including my doggo), and vacations.

“baby, let me be your last first kiss”

Have you ever been pampered? I get my hair done fairly regularly (not so much now... I can blame covid this year, but let’s be real the past few years I started slacking). 

Are you going to force your kids to be in activity or let them choose? I don’t want to have kids; however, IF I did, I wouldn’t force them to. I would certainly encourage and support, but it’d be their decision. If they didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t push it. It should be enjoyable for them, not torture.

Do you watch Toddler and Tiaras? Nah, I never got into that.

What was the last band t-shirt you bought? Nirvana. 

If someone asked you to go to war today, what would you say? Uh, no???

Are you passionate? I feel like I haven’t been passionate in years. Like, even things I like I don’t get as excited about like I used to. I just feel unmotivated and deflated. 

Do you usually get nervous before taking a test? Always. I had major test anxiety.

True or false : Your middle name begins with the letter J False.

Are you more comfortable in public or in your house? Most definitely in my house. This is my safe, comfortable place where I’m not judged. My self-esteem has always been crap, but these past few years it’s been even worse. I’m very self-conscious. I also just don’t like being around a lot of people. 

Do you own an old vintage typewriter? No. 

Do you hate how dogs bark every time someone comes to your house? No, I want my doggo to do that. She’s not excessive about it, though. And she’s not a little yappy dog that barks when an ant walks by lol. My neighbor’s dogs bark a lot, feels like it goes on forever and it’s annoying. 

What's a commercial that you cannot stand? I don’t pay much attention to commercials.

Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper? Dr. Pepper. 

Do you say "mate?" like Hello, mate! No.

What makes you rate a survey? I don’t rate them. I decide if I’m going to take a survey by skimming over the first few questions and seeing if they’re of interest to me and if I’ve already done it before (well, at least to see if I’ve done it recently).

“I can’t explain loneliness”

Do you drink Mountain Dew? I haven’t had it in probably like 10 years. I used to love the red and blue one. Oh, and I liked the AMP energy drinks Mountain Dew used to(?) have.

How many weddings have you been to? Three. 

When you smile, are you confident? No.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yeah.

Was the weather beautiful today? It’s finally been feeling like fall, which I love.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yes. During the hot months I have 3 going at all times in my room. I still have 2 of them going even though I’ve been needing a blanket now. I love it, though. If I turned them off I know I’d get warm again. I’d love to have it be cold and need a blanket year round.  Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? Out of those, I guess gray.

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? No. I dye my hair red and I just want to keep it that color.

Have you ever gone to a private school? My UC is.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? No, but it’s cute.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? My preschool did. Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? It is on, it’s on MTV.

Does your house have security cameras? Yes.

What's your favorite Another Cinderella Story? The one with Hilary Duff.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? No. I’m not a popsicle kind of gal.

“0 of your friends are online - yup, I feel like a loser.”

Do you drink more water or juice? Definitely water. I don’t like juice, so I never drink it.

Sweater weather or tank top weather? Which do you prefer. Tank top weather all the way, no competition. I hate summer. I also don’t wear tank tops. 

Do you always carry a purse with you? Not lately. The other day was the first time I had one, well it was my Baby Yoda mini backpack, in several months.

Do you update your Facebook relationship status when it changes? It’s never changed since making my Facebook in 2008 :X Joseph and I had our thing, but it wasn’t an official relationship. If I were to get in a relationship I wouldn’t rush to make it Facebook official cause who cares, like that wouldn’t be my first thought, but I could decide to change it at some point. Ha, maybe I would do it right away cause it’d be so surprising and shocking that I’d have to share it with everyone lmao.

Have you ever kissed a Zachary? Nope.

Do you hate when people try to embarrass you? Uh, being embarrassed certainly isn’t fun... I wouldn’t want someone to purposely try and embarrass me. Do you like in October when a bunch of haunted places open up? I like October for many Halloween-related reasons, but not for ghost walks or haunted houses - those aren’t really my thing. <<< Same, I don’t do all that.

Did you tell someone you loved them today? No.

Do you watch the show Ghost Adventures? I’ve never heard of it before. I’ve heard of Ghost Hunters - my father enjoys that show. <<< Ha, my dad really likes one of those as well; I forget which one. I’ve never gotten into shows like, though. 

When it's dark, do you always tell someone to drive safe? No.  

Are you love sick? No.

Do you want your own house someday? My family and I do. We’ve only ever rented.

What color are your curtains in your bedroom? Dark blue.

Are you superstitious? I do the knock on wood thing, but I think it’s just habit now.

Is there a cat in the room you're in right now? No, I don’t have a cat.

“it only takes a second to fall in love”

Have you ever read the book The Guardian by Nicholas Sparks? Nope.

Have your parents ever said you're ruining your life by dating someone? No.

Are you excited for anything? I’m looking forward to starting my Christmas shopping.

True or false : It's past 9:22 PM True, it’s 2:43AM.

Do you hate when artist change their music? No, not necessarily. It can be cool to see them try different genres. Does your house have a doorbell? Yep.

Would you ever name your car? *shrug*

What's worse : Two-faced people or fake people? Isn’t that the same thing?

Are you wearing a necklace? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years.

Have you ever saved someone's life? No. Do you hate when your makeup smears? I always hated how my eyeliner smudged in the corners. I say “hated”, past tense, because I haven’t worn any makeup at all in like 3 years.

Are you good at giving advice? I think I kinda used to be, but not now. I was the one friends always came to. I used to also participate on teen message boards when I was like 12-14 and tried to offer advice and resources to people when I could. Sometimes I IMed with people who needed advice, too. That’s when I knew I wanted to help people in some way and it was in high school when I discovered what psychology/ a psychologist was. I majored and got my BA in it, too... now it’s just collecting dust and I don’t want to purse it anymore....

Have you gotten into any fights within the past week? No.

How often do you go to the kitchen? I don’t know.... probably like a handful of times. 

Are you strong? Nope. Not mentally or emotionally, and certainly not physically.

“bring her back to serendipity”

When you choose your golf ball for put-put, what color do you pick? I’ve never played.

Have you ever ate the tip of a pencil? The eraser. No...

When was the last time you wore earrings? I got cute rose gold Minnie Mouse ones for Christmas last year and wore those for a couple months until they started messing with my ears for some reason. It was weird because it was like they were getting sucked into the hole? I’ve never had that happen.

You can dye your hair red or neon green. You pick? I already dye it red.

How many Juliet's do you know? I don’t know any.

What's your current mood? I don’t feel well.

What time is it? 2:55AM. Do you own any colored pants? No.

What color of eye shadow do you wear? I haven’t worn eyeshadow in several years.

Hamburger or steak? Hamburger, definitely. I don’t like steak.

When was the last time you ran through a sprinkler? Not since I was a kid.

Can you do a cartwheel? No.

Do you believe you have the perfect parents? No one is perfect, but my parents are quite amazing.

Do you own any Converse? I still have one pair. I used to have a few.

How tall are you? 5′4.

“Right now, I just wish you were here.”

Would you ever try a workout video? Or have you? Maybe a fun dance one if it involved a lot of arm movements that I could do. Do you like your ice cream in a cup or cone? It’s gotta be a cup or waffle bowl for me cause I take too long to finish my ice cream and it gets super messy otherwise. 

Are fireworks your favorite things ever? I like how pretty they are, but I definitely don’t enjoy the sound that they make. <<< Ugh, saaaame. I hate the sound.

Is your cat orange? As I’ve said, I don’t have a cat.

Is anything in the room your in striped? My Adidas have 3 stripes on both sides.

What song do you hear playing? I’m not listening to music.

Have you ever found a four leaf clover? Yeah. Back in elementary school we used to hunt for ‘em on St. Patrick’s Day.

Do you think you've been in love? I believe so. Twice.

Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet? In the 9th grade, we were required to in English class. <<< Yep.

Were you ever in the plays in school? No.

Whose eyes do you have? Pretty sure they’re my own. Haaaa. My eyes are the same color as my mom’s. 

When was the last time you bought a pair of new shoes? I haven’t bought my own in a long time. I often get a new pair for my birthday and/or Christmas from my parents, usually my dad. He’s a total shoe guy, so he likes to buy shoes quite a bit for himself and as gifts for my family and I.

How many gray shirts do you have? I don’t know; a few.

Have you ever cried because you missed someone so much? Yes. Especially after the death of loved ones.

Do you hate waiting for things? I’m very impatient. Waiting makes me nervous and anxious.

[junghelioseok]

change. | 06

↳ a kind, handsome stranger makes you question your deteriorating relationship.

◇ taehyung x reader | jungkook x reader ◇ angst | fluff | smut ◇ 5.7k [6/10]

notes: i... don’t actually have anything to say about this update? wild. enjoy!!!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | epilogue ✓

Days pass. The weekend arrives in the form of a sunny Saturday morning, bringing with it blue skies as far as the eye can see. Quietly, you admire the cloudless expanse through the crack in your curtains, not quite willing to leave the cozy warmth of your bed and face reality just yet.

Eventually, the staccato vibration of your phone drags you out of your cocoon of blankets, just enough to grab the device off the nightstand and wake the dark screen. Two text messages blink up at you, and unsurprisingly, neither are from Jungkook. You haven’t heard from him since the fight, and even though a part of you misses him, you still have your pride. And your pride—well, it refuses to let you reach out first and apologize for an argument that he’d needlessly instigated. Even so, the half-empty tissue box on your nightstand sits there like a taunt, cruelly reminding you of just how many tears you’ve shed over him since he stormed out of your apartment.

With a sigh, you glance back at your phone. One message is from Seokjin, and, as always, the sight of his name is a comfort. Your trusty best friend had dropped by to visit the day after your fight with Jungkook, a freshly-baked cake cradled in one arm while the other reaches out to pull you into a hug. Since then, he’s checked on you innumerable times—sometimes making multiple visits a day—and you couldn’t be more grateful for his constant, unwavering support.

[9:23am] Jin: Still on for breakfast tomorrow?

You send back a quick confirmation before opening up the more recent text message, eyes widening when you see the name that pops up onto your screen.

[9: 39am] Taehyung: good morning! do you enjoy coffee?

Your phone buzzes again in your hand, and you almost drop it in surprise. Recovering quickly, you scan the new text.

[9:41am] Taehyung: i prefer tea myself, but yoongi’s been telling me to try this café for ages and i’d love some company if you’re free

His earnest invitation cuts through the dreariness of the past few days like a ray of sunshine, bright and heartily welcome. Still, a sense of hesitation stubbornly lingers, clouding your mind with doubt. Your entire face feels puffy, and you’re sure that anyone will be able to tell with one glance that you’d been crying. But the prospect of getting out of your apartment is enticing—and even more so is the chance to get to know Taehyung better. Besides, wouldn’t it be rude to decline?

After another minute of furious internal debate, you compose a careful message, deleting and rewriting it several times before hitting ‘send’.

[9:43am] You: That sounds nice. I could definitely use some time out and about.

Your phone vibrates again within seconds, and you can’t help the tiny smile that blooms across your face at the sight of Taehyung’s name blinking on the screen once more.

[9:42am] Taehyung: then let’s do it! should we aim for 10:30? 11? either is fine by me!

Ten-thirty is perfect, you reply. He responds with enthusiasm and the address of the café, and you can’t help the way your smile widens as you crawl out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. Your face is indeed a little puffy and your eyes a bit red, but it’s nothing that a quick shower and some makeup can’t fix. Scrutinizing yourself carefully in the mirror, you make sure to cover any splotchiness with concealer before doing the rest of your makeup.

It’s nearly ten-fifteen by the time you leave. A quick glance at your map app tells you that the café Taehyung had specified is a mere ten minutes away so you wander over to the window, cracking it open to decide whether or not to walk. Pleasantly surprised at the mild temperature, you elect to don a lighter coat instead of the oversized wooly monstrosity you have for especially frigid days. A chunky knit scarf completes your outfit, and as soon as you’ve double-checked your purse for your wallet and keys, you are out the door.

Taehyung is already seated when you arrive, his head of coppery hair tucked away in a corner booth next to the window. A smile spreads across his face when he spots you by the door, and immediately he’s bouncing out of his seat and waving you over eagerly. “{Name}! You made it!”

Your lips curl into an answering smile as you weave your way through the tables and chairs to join him in the booth. The interior of the café is warm and flooded with sunlight, illuminating the eclectic collection of furniture within. You’re fairly certain you haven’t seen a single matching set of chairs yet, and a bright yellow couch in the corner covered with an array of throw pillows in shades of orange has you grinning and shaking your head as you take a seat across from Taehyung. “This is quite the place.”

Taehyung chuckles. “The interior decorator may have gone a bit overboard.”

You cast another glance around, taking in the vibrant atmosphere and the cheerful baristas behind the counter. “I don’t know… I think I like it. But you said Yoongi recommended this place, didn’t you? And, well, I know I’ve only met him once, but this really doesn’t seem like the kind of place he would come to on purpose. Or repeatedly.”

“He gets his coffee to go,” Taehyung admits with a grin. That draws a giggle from you, and the two of you share a good laugh before he speaks again. “Speaking of which, we should order before the line gets too long. Think we can save this table by leaving our coats here?”

“Only one way to find out,” you reply, shrugging off your coat and draping it over the back of the booth. Taehyung follows your lead, and together, the two of you head to the front counter to select your beverages. You take the opportunity to observe him while you wait in line to order, taking in the silky floral shirt he’s wearing and admiring the exact way it drapes over his broad shoulders as he scans the chalkboard menu on the wall.

He’s handsome. It’s something you’ve acknowledged before, but the tiny voice in the back of your mind refuses to let you forget about your boyfriend, stubbornly reminding you of his existence at every opportunity. Persistent whispers of Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook echo through your head until you feel ready to burst, and Taehyung, ever observant, seems to sense that something is off. Concern etches its way across his face as he reaches out, gently laying a warm hand on your shoulder and asks, “{Name}? You okay?”

“Of course,” you say automatically, forcing your mouth up into a smile. “I’m fine. I must’ve just spaced out for a second.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced, but he pulls back nonetheless. The disappearance of the warm weight of his hand leaves you strangely cold, but you shake off the feeling and muster up your most cheery voice.

“So, what are you thinking of getting? You said you’re a tea person, right?”

Taehyung gives you one last glance, lingering on your eyes, and you have no doubt that he can see some of the residual redness from your tears the night before. Still, he turns away after a few seconds, directing his attention back to the chalkboard and tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Yoongi said there’s a strawberry smoothie that I’d like on the menu… oh, there it is! I’ll probably order that. What about you?”

“I need my coffee fix,” you say with a rueful smile. “I’d kill for a latte right now.”

Taehyung grins and nudges you forward lightly. “Good thing you’re up, then,” he says, gesturing to the barista waiting expectantly behind the counter. Flustered, you glance up at the menu on the wall one last time before requesting a medium-sized latte. Taehyung orders his smoothie after you, and reluctantly allows you to pay for both drinks after you snatch his wallet right out of his hands and offer the laughing barista your own card.

“Thank you,” you say after she hands it back. Taehyung thanks her as well, and she offers both of you a nod and an amused smile before turning to the next customer.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” Taehyung says as you head back toward your table and make yourselves comfortable. His lower lip juts out in a slight pout, and you can’t help but giggle at the expression.

“I’m pretty sure I did,” you reply. “You’ve called me… what, two cabs since we met? I owe you.”

Taehyung shakes his head, brown eyes alight with warmth from beneath his coppery hair. He glows golden in the sunlight shining in through the window, and you almost stop breathing when you notice how utterly ethereal he looks, even just sitting there with a pink smoothie at his elbow. “No, {Name},” he says, and despite his quiet tone, you don’t miss the tenderness lacing his voice. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

///

An hour passes, then two. Your latte is cold by the time you finish the last sip, making a face as the milk foam coats your upper lip. “Ugh. I forgot how weird lukewarm coffee is.”

“Lukewarm smoothies aren’t much better,” Taehyung replies, picking up his cup and giving it a shake. “Oh, well. Just let me apologize in advance for the sound this straw is going to make when I finish this.”

His declaration is followed by a loud slurp, empty air whistling through the straw along with the final dregs of pink smoothie. You can’t help but giggle at the sound, and his lips tilt up into a smile around the straw as he raises his brows and waggles them exaggeratedly.

“So,” Taehyung says, setting his empty cup back down and leaning back in his seat.

You are suddenly reminded of the first time you met. Mirroring his movements, you relax into the plushy leather of the booth. “So.”

He grins, but you can see a hint of hesitance glimmering in his eyes. “So,” he repeats, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “I don’t know if you have plans today, but I was going to go look at some art pieces after this. Did you… maybe want to join me?”

The slight stammer in his voice makes you smile. “That sounds fun,” you tell him earnestly. “But full disclosure: I know absolutely nothing about art, so I’m going to be pretty useless.”

Taehyung’s grin widens. “Don’t worry about that. Your company’s more than enough for me.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity. The snide voice in your head has long since been banished to the very darkest corners of your mind to cower in silence, leaving you feeling lighter and happier than you have in days. “In that case,” you begin, standing up and reaching for your coat, “I’d be happy to join you.”

It’s a wonder that Taehyung’s smile hasn’t split his face in half, for it is nearly blinding in its brilliance. Rising to his feet, he grabs both of your cups, tossing them neatly into the bin before holding the door for you to exit first. As soon as you’ve both stepped out onto the sidewalk, he takes the lead, chattering happily about the studio you are about to visit. “I’ve never actually worked with this artist before,” he says as he turns the corner and enters the parking lot behind the building. “He’s a newcomer to the scene, but he’s gained quite a reputation for his vibrant colors and abstract style. I’m excited to meet him in person.”

The two of you have reached his car by this point—a sleek silvery vehicle that he unlocks with a flourish. Opening up the door, you climb inside and glance over at the young man who is folding his long limbs into the black leather of driver’s seat beside you.

“Sorry,” he says when he catches you looking. “It’s a bit of a mess in here.”

Curiously, you crane your neck to look at the backseat, one brow arching in amazement. “A mess?” you ask, taking in the half-zipped black duffel and neat bundle of magazines lying there. “This is your definition of a mess?”

Taehyung chuckles and starts the car, the engine thrumming to life as he turns the key in the ignition. The fingers of his other hand begin tapping the steering wheel in time to the song that blares to life on the radio. “It could be neater,” he says as he reverses smoothly out of the parking space. “I normally try to keep everything contained, but I’ve been running around a lot lately with the new gallery. The bag’s full of my photography equipment, but I’m pretty sure some of Yeontan’s toys got lost in there along the way. He’s been sniffing around for his favorite ball for days now, and as far as I can tell it’s not in my apartment.”

You nod at the duffel bag. “I can take a look and see if it’s in there, if you don’t mind me going through your stuff.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Not at all. My camera’s padded pretty securely in there, so go for it.”

Turning around in your seat, you carefully pluck up the duffel and plop it down into your lap, unzipping it the rest of the way and peering inside. True to his word, Taehyung has filled it to the brim with photography equipment. You spot a smaller black bag inside that looks like it holds a camera, and a neatly-folded tripod buried underneath several manila envelopes that you assume are full of photos. Loose film canisters roll around the bottom, but a flash of bright orange catches your attention amongst all the clutter.

“Found it!” you say, raising the ball in triumph. “At least, I think I did.”

“That’s it,” Taehyung confirms with a laugh, looking at you out of the corner of his eye before directing his attention back to the road. “Are there any more dog toys hiding in there?”

You hum, peeking inside once more. “No, but there is a bag of treats. And what looks like a very tiny sweater. And… a leash?”

Your discoveries earn you another laugh. “Whoops.”

Giggling, you set about removing the items, making sure to place them in a conspicuous spot beside the duffel bag when you replace everything in the backseat. “So you remember to bring them up to Yeontan later,” you say by way of explanation when Taehyung gives you a curious sidelong glance.

His face softens into a smile. “That’s thoughtful. Thank you.”

The remainder of the drive passes quickly. Peering out the window, you see that you have arrived in the more residential part of the city, where rows of brownstone townhouses sit on quiet tree-lined streets. Taehyung is already unbuckling his seat belt and stepping outside so you quickly follow his lead, watching as he double-checks his phone for the correct address and scans the nearest cluster of reddish-brown houses.

“Aha,” he mutters after a few seconds of careful consideration. “That’s the one. Shall we?”

Nodding, you follow him, admiring the well-kept patch of lawn out front. Three short steps lead to a bright yellow front door, a little green sign hanging slightly askew from the knocker reading, Come on in! With a shrug, Taehyung turns the brassy knob and gestures for you to step inside. As he joins you in the foyer and shuts the door behind him, you take a few steps farther into the house.

The first thing you notice is how bright the interior is, radiant sunlight painting the cream-colored walls with streaks of gold. To your right is a long wooden staircase, the railing twined with colorful string lights. On your left is what looks like a sitting room, a dark green sofa littered with tasseled throw pillows taking up the expanse of wall opposite the wide bay window. The remaining walls are covered with canvases—bright colors and abstract shapes splashed across each surface. If you had any doubts about this being the home of an artist, they are erased when you spot the half-finished painting sitting on an easel in the corner.

Footsteps sound from somewhere inside the house, and a few seconds later the artist himself pops into view with a winning smile and an outstretched hand. “I thought I heard the door!” he exclaims, his brown eyes sparkling beneath a mop of cherry-red hair. “You must be Taehyung.”

“And you must be Hoseok,” Taehyung says, accepting the handshake with a grin. “I brought along company—I hope you don’t mind. This is {Name}.”

Hoseok reaches out to shake your hand as well, his smile widening. “Nice to meet you both! Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water? Maybe something to munch on?”

Taehyung inhales deeply, and for the first time you realize that the entire house smells like warm cinnamon and vanilla. “Well, if you’re as good a baker as you are an artist, then I won’t say no to whatever it is you’re whipping up back there.”

“I’ve got apple turnovers and some shortbread,” Hoseok replies merrily, already turning toward the doorway that leads to the rest of the house. “Follow me!”

The kitchen, you discover, is just as charming and upbeat as Hoseok himself. A sky blue kettle sits on a pristine white stovetop, which the red-haired man immediately turns on to make some tea. As promised, a plate full of pastries and another full of cookies sits on the counter, and Hoseok gestures for you to help yourself as he putters over to a cabinet to fetch three mismatched mugs.

Ten minutes later, with tea and pastries in hand, the three of you head upstairs to Hoseok’s art studio. At some point, the room was clearly a bedroom, but the only pieces of furniture that remain inside are a long table sitting against one wall and a plain wooden stool in front of an easel that’s identical to the one you saw earlier. Several canvases hang on the exposed brick wall, and even more are piled up against it, facing outward and organized by size. Already, you are dying to take a closer look—and Hoseok seems to sense your curiosity, for he waves you forward with a grin and a playful wink. “Go on, take a look around! Taehyung and I are just going to be talking business anyway, right?”

Taehyung, who had at that moment chosen to take a rather inopportune bit of his apple turnover, can only nod, his brown eyes crinkling as his face lifts into a sheepish smile. Giggling, you hand him a napkin from the pile that Hoseok thrust upon you in the kitchen. “Don’t let me keep you, then.”

Leaving the two men to their conversation, you meander farther into Hoseok’s studio, taking in the vivid colors splashed across each surface. You walk past several still life paintings and one of a seascape rendered in bright blues and yellows before coming to a stop at the chalkboard on the far wall. Vaguely, you are aware of Taehyung and Hoseok slowly making their way around the perimeter of the room as they discuss the various pieces, but you are too entranced by the rough chalk drawings in front of you.

“I’ve always been terrible at drawing hands.” Hoseok’s voice floats across the room, and you realize immediately that he’s talking about the chalk drawings. Hands of every shape, size, and color are scattered across the board, and you marvel at the realism as you raise your own hand and hold it up to each sketch in turn, mirroring the positions. Peace signs, thumbs-ups, high-fives—the accuracy Hoseok has managed to capture in a few simple strokes of chalk is astonishing. They’re some of the loveliest sketches you’ve ever seen, and, you are about to turn and tell him so when the next words out of his mouth stop you dead in your tracks.

“But you know what they say—practice makes perfect, right?” Taehyung nods his agreement, and the red-haired man grins before leading him over to the canvas displayed on the easel in the corner. “This is what I’m working on right now. I really wanted this painting to be perfect, and I’m hoping you might like it enough to display it in your gallery.”

From your angle, you can’t quite see the painting propped on the easel. Quietly, you begin inching to the right, trying your best to be as unobtrusive as possible, and little by little, the work comes into view. You catch a glimpse of purple and a flash of green, and then Taehyung is stepping back to say something to Hoseok and the painting in its entirety is revealed, brilliantly simple and heartwrenchingly tender.

Two hands—one a deep, rich purple and the other a bright, brassy yellow—are twined together on the canvas, fingers interlaced and thumbs crossed over one another. From between their fingers, delicate green vines spring up, winding around and up their arms, each shoot bearing tiny leaves and even tinier red blooms that have yet to blossom. You draw closer as if compelled, and Hoseok beams when he notices your interest.

“I’ve been calling it Love in Bloom,” the red-haired man explains, directing the words at Taehyung. “It’s cheesy, I know. And of course, it still needs a few finishing touches. But I’m really pleased with how it’s turned out so far, and it looks like your girlfriend likes it too.”

You almost choke on your shortbread. Beside you, Taehyung looks about ready to spit out his tea, the muscles in his jaw working furiously as he splutters in response. “O-oh! We’re not… um. We’re not together. She has a boyfriend, and I… we… we’re just friends. That’s all.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen, horror creeping across his features. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“It’s okay!” Taehyung assures hurriedly, laying a hand on the red-haired man’s shoulder. “Really. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Somehow, between the crumbs still lodged in your throat and the wild thoughts darting about your head, you manage to give Hoseok a reassuring nod. “D-don’t worry about it,” you stammer when your voice finally returns.

Hoseok’s frantic expression relaxes, settling into sheepishness. “I really am sorry,” he apologizes again. “Um, maybe we should move on? I still have a few questions about Studio V, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course not,” Taehyung replies. Then his gaze skitters over to you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile. “Do you mind, {Name}?”

You wonder at how quickly he seems to have recovered, taking in the gentle slope of his upturned mouth and the sparkling warmth of his chocolate brown irises. “Not at all.”

/// 

It wasn’t your intent to spend nearly a full day with Taehyung. When you’d left your apartment this morning, you’d expected a nice chat over a quick cup of coffee. Casual conversation and roasted beans, maybe with a splash of milk and a dash of sugar. That was it.

You certainly didn’t expect to still be with him five hours later, when midmorning has descended well into the afternoon and the sun is already beginning to sink toward the orange horizon. “I always forget how short the days are in the winter,” you say wistfully, watching the city pass by in a flurry of steely gray and polished monochrome glass. “It gets dark so fast.”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully from his spot in the driver’s seat, his fingertips tapping idly along the wheel in time with the radio. “It is starting to get dark,” he admits, gazing through the windshield at the setting sun. “Did you want to head home? I can drop you off if you’d like. Or—“ He trails off, his deep voice tapering off into silence, but when you raise a curious brow at him, he huffs out a soft chuckle and continues. “Or we could have dinner.”

“Dinner,” you repeat slowly. On cue, your stomach lets out a loud grumble, as if to remind you that you’ve only fed it shortbread and apple turnovers today.

If Taehyung hears your belly’s rumbling complaint, he doesn’t say anything about it. Still, you can see the way his lips curve upward, his face illuminated by the last weak rays of the golden sun. “The holiday market always has good food,” he says. “Have you been yet?”

“No, not yet,” you answer. “I’ve been meaning to go, though.”

Taehyung’s tapping fingers still on the wheel as he makes a smooth right turn. “No time like the present,” he remarks, and when the car straightens back out again, your jaw drops at the sight before you.

You’ve only seen the holiday market in daylight, walking past on the rare occasions when your errands take you downtown. You’ve seen the rickety carnival rides and the wooden stalls displaying homemade wares, with their painted signs peeling after weeks of exposure to the unpredictable wintry weather. But as the sky fades into dusky hues of blue and purple, a very different scene emerges. Lights begin to turn on—from the streetlamps lining the road to the string lights wound around every available surface—illuminating the entire holiday market in luminescent gold. In the distance, the Ferris wheel spins slowly, stark and bright against the darkening backdrop of the sky.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe. “It’s so pretty.”

“It is,” Taehyung agrees, and as you press against the window for a closer look, you completely miss the way his gaze lingers on your face.

To your surprise—and Taehyung’s delight—it doesn’t take long to find a parking spot. He manages to snag a space along the side of the street just as someone else is pulling out of it, and within minutes the two of you are walking into the brightly-lit market square. Your head spins pleasantly at the sudden influx of sights and sounds, your nose twitching at the smell of fried food and mulled wine. As if on cue, your stomach rumbles again, and, embarrassed, you look up at your companion.

Taehyung is grinning a grin so wide, you fear his mouth might fall off. “Food first?”

“Food first,” you confirm, rubbing your belly ruefully. His eyes crinkle up into crescents, and something in your chest does a funny little flip when he reaches out to grasp your hand and leads you toward the concession stands.

It seems a waste to sit down and eat, so you and Taehyung elect to walk around, admiring the wares of the local craftspeople with baskets of food in hand. The stall to your left is selling glass-blown sculptures, and the one next to it has delicate hand-painted ornaments. Across the way, there’s a gorgeous display of textiles, and another of sparkling jewelry. It’s impossible to stop and admire everything, yet that’s exactly what you want to do. And Taehyung seems to feel the same way, if the awestruck look of wonder in his eyes is anything to go by.

“{Name}, look,” he says excitedly, gesturing at one of the painted ornaments. You recognize the distinctive golden whorls of Starry Night right away, smiling at the way his love for art always manages to shine through.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, watching as he sets down his food and carefully plucks the glass globe from its black velvet casing, spinning it around to admire the brushwork.

He beams. “Do you want it?”

“Do I want it? I should be the one buying it for y—“ you begin to say, only to be cut off by a loud buzzing from your pocket. The sudden vibration startles you, but you recover quickly enough to grab your phone and offer Taehyung an apologetic shrug before answering. “Hello?”

On the other end of the line, you hear a low, deep sigh. Then: “Hey. It’s me.”

“Jungkook?” you ask, your heart rate picking up at the sound of his voice. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you stare at the unfamiliar string of numbers on the screen. “This… this isn’t your cell. Where are you?”

“Work,” he sighs. “But that’s not important right now. I… I want to apologize for what I said the other night. It was completely out of line, and I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook,” you repeat, his name heavy on your tongue. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Taehyung, his coppery hair shining like burnished gold underneath the lights strung up around the market. He’s turned back to the stall selling ornaments in an attempt to give you a little privacy, but the stiff set of his shoulders tells you that he can hear every word. Wordlessly, you take a few steps back, finding refuge along the side of one of the wooden stalls and lowering your voice. “Jungkook, I’m glad you’re apologizing. But shouldn’t we talk about this in person?”

“We should,” your boyfriend agrees. The sound of shuffling papers filters through the line, and you deduce that he must be fidgeting nervously. “How about tomor—“

Out of nowhere, a toddler nearby starts wailing, his cherubic face scrunching up as he reaches up for his mother. The new sound gives Jungkook pause, and you can hear the concern lacing his tone as he speaks again.

“{Name}, what was that? Where are you right now?”

“I’m downtown,” you admit, plugging your other ear in order to hear him better. “At the holiday market in front of city hall.”

Even through the phone, you can hear the frown in his voice. “Alone? You really shouldn’t wander around the city at night, you know. It’s not safe.”

For a split second, you debate letting him believe that you’re alone, only to banish the thought immediately afterward. Jungkook has already gone to the effort of apologizing and he deserves your honesty now. Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you quickly explain, “I’m not alone. I have a friend with me.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Is it Jin?”

“Taehyung,” you murmur, swallowing nervously when you hear his sharp intake of breath. “We… we met at Luxe last week.”

You don’t explain any further, and you don’t need to. You can tell from the prolonged silence on the other end of the line that Jungkook has realized which night you are referring to. It’s the night he never showed up for your long-awaited dinner date—the night Taehyung swooped in to your aid and saved your dignity. And even though you don’t explain exactly when or how you’d met your coppery-haired friend, you know that Jungkook’s analytical mind is calculating every possibility.

“I see,” he finally says, his tone clipped. “Well. I guess I’ll stop interrupting, then.”

“Jungkook!” You’re gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles are beginning to turn white. “Jungkook, wait.”

Silence. Then, “I need to go, {Name}. Bye.”

You remain standing with your phone at your ear for several long moments after he hangs up, your heart hammering wildly in your chest as blood rushes through your ears. Jungkook is upset—probably even more so than before. And all at once, regret begins to bubble up in your chest, eating away at your insides until you’re lightheaded.

Taehyung must’ve gotten worried over your extended absence, for his head suddenly pops around the side of the stall. “{Name}? Are you all right?” When you don’t answer right away, he takes a cautious step forward and repeats your name, concern etching its way across his features. “{Name}? What happened?”

You finally lower your phone, tucking it back into your pocket and shaking your head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “That was your boyfriend, right? Jungkook?”

You nod. “We… we’re just going through a rough patch. I’m all right. Honest.”

To your relief, he doesn’t press the issue any further. Instead, he simply offers you a small smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t we call it a night? I can drive you back home.”

“Taehyung,” you begin to protest. “It’s okay, I can take the bus or call a cab or something—“

He shushes you with a bop on the nose, just as he’d done back at Studio V. “I’d feel much better if I drove you myself. Call it a gift—a thank you for putting up with me all day.”

You shake your head. “You’re too kind to me.”

“Nonsense,” he replies simply. “The world could do with a lot more kindness, in my opinion.”

And on that note, he gestures for you to follow him back onto the main path through the holiday market, meandering through the milling crowds and wooden stalls until you finally reach the street where his car is parked. The drive back to your apartment passes in amicable silence, broken only by the occasional directions you provide him and the soft sound of the radio.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he pulls up to the outside of your apartment building, stopping right at the front door.

“You’re welcome,” he responds with a smile. “Try and enjoy the rest of your night, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree softly. His smile widens.

Stepping out of his car, you enter the lobby of your building. He doesn’t drive off until he sees that you are safely inside, and you wave at his retreating taillights until they disappear into the night.

Then you pull out your phone and thumb over to your ‘J’ contacts, composing a quick message. I really, really, really need a drink tomorrow. Putting the device away, you head for the elevator.

By the time you step out onto your floor, you have a response lighting up your screen.

[6:43pm] Jin: Brunch instead of breakfast tomorrow, then. I’ll have a mimosa waiting.

[previous] [next]

[fyeahcreepyshit]

My neighbor has been mowing his lawn for 12 hours straight

u/nslewis • Jul 14, 2019

Part 1:

It started at 4:43am. The noise jolted me awake. It sounded like there was a giant truck revving its engine right there in our bedroom. Exhaust fumes wafted in through the open window. It was a bad way to start the day.

“What is that?” moaned my wife. We’d both slept poorly, because our daughter had crawled into our bed at 1am and kept kicking us in the face until we were both half-hanging off the bed while she snored away.

“Start of the apocalypse,” I groaned. “Go back to sleep.”

“No way can I sleep through that racket,” said Vanessa. She rolled out of bed and shut the window. That helped a little, but it still sounded like war out there. She pulled the curtains back and looked through the window. “It’s the fucking neighbor. Mowing his lawn. Before the sun is up. We need to have a heart-to-heart with him. Let him know that’s not okay.”

Keagan, our daughter, woke up crying.

“Guess that’s that,” I muttered, getting out of bed myself. “I’ll go talk to him after some coffee.”

“Bring me some too,” said Vanessa.

“Papa, bring me some Smarties,” said Keagan.

“No. No Smarties for breakfast. Banana. Or toast. But not Smarties.”

“Fine,” huffed Keagan. “Toast. Cut into shapes.”

I sighed. This was really the last thing I wanted to be doing at 4:45 on a Saturday morning. Making coffee and cutting toast into animal shapes instead of drooling in my sleep and dreaming of a gentler world.

I went into the kitchen and started the coffee and toast, and then looked out the living room window. Sure enough, there was Mr. Limsky, mowing his damn lawn, in his damn bathrobe no less. That was another thing that I had no desire to do: get into it with him about this, or really talk to him about anything ever beyond a friendly wave and a “Howdy, neighbor.”

By the time I was awake enough to form a coherent thought, it was almost 6:00, and I had consumed four cups of coffee. Mr. Limsky was still at it, which was strange, because his yard isn’t very big at all. It shouldn’t take more than a 40 minute mow job. But here it was, an hour and fifteen minutes later, and he was still at it.

I got semi-dressed and stumbled outside. I walked across my own yard, which, I noted, needed mowing itself. Maybe I’ll tell him that if he mows my lawn and promises to never start so early again, I’ll let it go. But I knew that I wouldn’t do that. I was a coward.

As I got closer, I observed with some confusion that his lawn was already mowed. He was going over it a second time now. I walked up to our property line, denoted by the contrast between mowed and unmowed grass, and started waving my hands in the air, waiting for Mr. Limsky to notice me.

He never did. He just stared straight ahead and kept pushing the mower.

“HEY!” I shouted. But it was no good. I could barely hear myself, and so I knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear me from across the lawn, right behind the lawnmower.

Goddammit.

I walked across his yard until I was right behind him. “HEY!” Nothing. I tapped on his shoulder. Nothing. He just kept pushing the lawnmower onward over the already mowed lawn. I didn’t know what to do.

I’ll catch him after he finishes, I guess. He’s in the Zone.

I shrugged and was getting ready to turn back to my house when I saw a trickle of what was presumably urine run down his bare leg.

Jesus.

I went back to my house and opened the door. Vanessa was reading a book to Keagan. She stopped when I came in and looked up. “Well?”

“I, uh… he couldn’t hear me. I’ll go over there once he stops. He’s got to stop some time, right? And, uh… well, I’m a little worried about him honestly. I saw him, you know, wet himself.”

“Mr. Limsky peed his pants?!” asked Keagan. She started laughing.

“Well, that sometimes happens, kiddo,” I said. “You used to do that. We do that a lot when we’re kids and then we don’t do it for a while and then when we get older we sometimes do it again.”

That gave her something to think about anyway.

“Huh,” said Vanessa.

“There’s more,” I said. “He’s already done with the lawn. He’s just going over it a second time.”

“Maybe he missed a few spots?”

“Nope. It’s perfect. Not a blade of grass higher than any other blade of grass.”

“Hmm,” said Vanessa. “That is strange. Do you think he’s okay? Should we call somebody?”

I shrugged. “Who are we going to call? The police? Tell them that our retired neighbor is mowing his lawn twice while pis… while peeing himself? What will they say to that?”

*

By 8:00, I was done cooking the bacon and Mr. Limsky was still at it, mowing his lawn for what must have been the fifth time. I tried not to think about it, but it was hard.

“After breakfast, we should go somewhere,” I said. “It’s a beautiful day. No sense staying cooped up all day.”

“Why does Mr. Limsky keep mowing his lawn?” asked Keagan.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” I muttered. “I don’t know. You want to go to the playground or something?”

“Yay!”

“I’m going to stay here and try to go back to sleep if that’s okay,” said Vanessa.

“Of course,” I said. I felt like going back to sleep myself, even after all that coffee, but the desire to get far away from the sound of the lawnmower outweighed my tiredness.

We ate, then Keagan and I headed to the playground.

At 9:00, I got a text from Vanessa: “Can’t sleep. He’s still mowing.”

9:30: “I’m really starting to get worried. This isn’t normal.”

10:00: “I went over there and tried to talk to him, but it’s like he’s in a trance. Please come home.”

I sighed, but complied. I rounded up the kid and drove home. I felt a deep sense of unease, that grew more intense the closer I got to home.

You’re afraid of an old man mowing the lawn? I chided myself. It didn’t work, because my instinctive answer was: Yes.

I turned onto my street and prayed that Mr. Limsky would be done mowing the lawn by now. He’d tell us it was just a practical joke and we’d all have a good laugh over it. But soon enough, I saw that wasn’t going to happen. As I pulled into my driveway, I saw that he was still out there. I thought I saw a streak of brown running down his leg, but it was hard to tell for sure because he was going around under the shade of his ancient apple tree.

I walked inside and Vanessa was at the kitchen table with bags under her eyes and a glass of wine in front of her. “Please make it stop,” she said.

“I don’t know how to do that,” I said, suddenly feeling very tired and in need of a drink myself.

“Call the police,” she said.

“Why don’t you?” I asked.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s just that I do everything else around here so I thought maybe you could help this one time.”

I held my tongue. I did plenty around there, but I knew that now wasn’t the time to point that out. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll call the police. How has he not run out of gas by now, anyway?”

“I’ve been watching him,” said Vanessa. “He’s got a can of gas in his driveway. Sometimes he grabs it when he passes by and gasses up while still pushing the mower. It’s crazy. Please call the police.”

“Alright, alright,” I said. I looked up the number and proceeded to have one of the most awkward phone conversations of my life. It was ten minutes with the receptionist, and then another ten minutes with an officer. Finally, they agreed to come over and check it out.

*

Fifteen minutes later, I watched out the window as the cop car pulled into Mr. Limsky’s driveway. A single cop got out and walked over to Mr. Limsky.

The cop was waving his hands and shouting, but it was no good. Then the cop grabbed Mr. Limsky’s shoulder and spun him around forcefully. This caused Mr. Limsky to finally let go of the throttle, and for the first time all day, the lawnmower stopped moving. It was still running though, because he had taped its safety shut-off down.

I held my breath as I waited to see what would happen next.

Mr. Limsky opened his mouth, and something emerged from it. It looked like a long, thin tentacle. The tentacle wrapped itself around the cop’s neck, and lifted him up into the air. Then a second tentacle emerged from Mr. Limsky’s mouth, and made its way down the cop’s throat.

I slammed the curtains shut and noticed that I too, like Mr. Limsky earlier, had wet myself.

“What’s going on out there?” asked Vanessa from the kitchen. “Did the police arrive?”

I didn’t have a good answer, so I didn’t say anything.

“Honey?” said Vanessa, walking over. “Are you okay?”

From outside, we heard the whine of a new machine join in with the lawnmower. Vanessa opened the curtain, and I turned slowly to look out.

The cop was out there going around the old apple tree with a weed whacker while Mr. Limsky was back pushing the lawnmower around again.

*

It’s 5pm. Besides Mr. Limsky, there are now four cops in his yard doing various tasks. One is still at it with the weed whacker. Another has been going at the shrubs with a pair of clippers for hours now. But the one who concerns me the most is the one who is going around spraying the ground from a bottle full of neon blue liquid that Mr. Limsky at one point puked out of his mouth.

I personally am petitioning the family to pack up the car and start driving to Florida where Vanessa’s mother lives. I have no idea what is going on, but it doesn’t look good.

[ehentha]

The Dhivehi Art Drop vol. 1

Interesting and inspiring content by Dhivehi / Maldivian artists.

Few of my favorite clicks from early morning stroll around Villingili. pic.twitter.com/zdRYxtx70b

— zayaahmed (@zayana_ahmed) July 4, 2019

Sharing a few illustrated portraits. pic.twitter.com/GIiQHD4VEw

— zayaahmed (@zayana_ahmed) July 2, 2019

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2019 is the year of self portraits and metamorphosis. #illustration #portrait #selfportrait #penandink #instaart #art #artist #artistsoninstagram #sketch

A post shared by Nuha Nasheed (@nuha.nasheed) on Jul 8, 2019 at 7:57pm PDT

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Dictatorial Fish Propaganda #illustration #graphicdesign #behance #typography #experimental #digitalart

A post shared by Arsham Irusham (@iruaru) on Jul 7, 2019 at 7:12am PDT

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One of my fav from the recent shoots I’ve done! @vuv09 you’re so easy to work with. ✨ MUA/Photo: @eutopian_ Model : @vuv09 Featured : Seagrass sarong + Boli cuff by @islandbazaar styled by @vuv09 herself! 😙

A post shared by Z𝑒𝑒 (@eutopian_) on Jul 8, 2019 at 1:24am PDT

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│ H O L O C E N E │ ･ ･ ･ ♬♪ ♩♭♪ At once i knew I was not magnificent Strayed above the highway aisle Jaged vacance, thick with ice I could see for miles, miles, miles.. ･ ･ ･ #folkgood #folkvibe #aov5k #aestheticshot100k #moodygrams #aov #artofvisuals #mhplyrical#moody#toneseekers #igers #instagood #instagram #mobilefolk #igers #shotaward #livefolk #agameoftones #visualambassadors #live2folk#visualsoflife #main_vision #mg5k #byfolk #shotzdelight #fs_vsco #vsco #vscofolk #vscocam #hsdailyfeature #soft_vision #mobilefolk

A post shared by Ahmed Nimal (@nimalahmed) on Aug 31, 2016 at 11:48pm PDT

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30-11-2018

A post shared by Abdulla Sajidh (@a.sajidh) on Jun 25, 2019 at 6:26am PDT

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finished cover art for kamancello’s second album with a little glitch effect. this was a really fun piece to work on since I rarely Do mandala style pieces without an animal subject. The centre of the piece resembles a kamanche in the centre of a cello(traditional instruments that embody their music). thanks @raphcello and @kamancelloofficial for the opportunity and huge congrats on the album and your crazy talent🤘🏼🎻

A post shared by M ▲ ▲ H Y (@maahyart) on Jun 27, 2019 at 10:43am PDT

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A strong woman that speaks in silence. Model: @rauwowza_aicha MUA: @ruthbaaa #portait #photoshoot #photography #beautiful #gorgeous #nikon📷 #maldives #bluesky #amazing #people #women #instagram

A post shared by Lee (@insaniac_inspirations) on Jun 25, 2019 at 3:20am PDT

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When I dance, and when it’s not to hurt people, I’m make art and designer jeans #art #performanceart #liveart #livepainting #muaythai #artwar #style #yolo @fannugathering

A post shared by Vishal (@ekkayvishal) on Jun 25, 2019 at 1:29am PDT

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Sunset — 17th September 2017, 6:31 PM

A post shared by Aly Mahryn (@alymahryn) on Jun 23, 2019 at 9:52am PDT

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The Prayer Ink on paper A4 size Dm for prints #ink #art #artist #maldivianartist #prayer

A post shared by Zara Unais (@zaralovescatto) on Jun 23, 2019 at 4:35am PDT

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When I saw @kurboi ‘s new #drawthisinyourstyle I could not resist drawing it. Am in love with all the details in this character. So here’s my take on #kurboi50k #dtiys I hope you like it and congratulations on 50k! 🙌 . Painted entirely in @procreate . . #procreateart #digitalart #illustration #tiggmanje #drawthisinyourstylechallenge #ipadproart #procreate #digitalart #artistsoninstagram #instaart #artist #drawing #painting #girl #illustration #creative #love_arts_help #arts_help #art #artoftheday #arte #swsfeature #grafikita #redrawchallenge #art #drawthisinyourstyle #digitaldrawing

A post shared by Shany Ahmed (Manje) (@tiggmanje) on Jun 14, 2019 at 9:52am PDT

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Styled this gorgeous babe @vuv09 Mua @eya.makeupartist Shot by @nadhuha_

A post shared by FAMUSHU (@angelshujau) on Jun 3, 2019 at 12:58pm PDT

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Today I read somewhere: “Your money’s not yours. It’s just your turn with it” Photo by the extremely talented and humble @maahy0__0

A post shared by FAMUSHU (@angelshujau) on Jul 4, 2019 at 11:59am PDT

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⚫️⚪️

A post shared by FAMUSHU (@angelshujau) on May 21, 2019 at 3:03pm PDT

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And just like us, these kids will one day grow up to tell their loved ones about the fun they had whenever it rained. #EidKihineh

A post shared by Refty (@refty) on Jun 4, 2019 at 5:33am PDT

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“In life, as in chess, forethought wins.” #EverydayRaajje #vsco #vscomv #Funadhoo #ShaviyaniAtoll #Atoll #Maldives #chess #island #islandlife #vacation

A post shared by Ismail Thohir (@ismailthohir) on Jun 5, 2019 at 7:24am PDT

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Keeled! #goprohero7 #freediver #ocean #marinelife #uwphotography #uwpics #boat #keel #maldives #onebreath #freedive

A post shared by Naahee Nazim (@naaheenazim) on May 30, 2019 at 11:50am PDT

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Float back down

A post shared by Mo (@autonomotor) on May 27, 2019 at 4:27am PDT

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Raa⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #36daysofthaana #illustration #arts_help #artistsofmaldives #illustrationartists #best_of_illustrations #design #illustration #painting #art #typography

A post shared by @ skadoomsh on May 13, 2019 at 4:07am PDT

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02 | Tranquil ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #inktober #inktober2018 #inktobermv #ink #illustration #arts_help #artistsofmaldives #illustrationartists #best_of_illustrations #design #illustration #painting #art

A post shared by @ skadoomsh on Oct 1, 2018 at 9:16pm PDT

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it's ya boi!!!!!!!! also I'm sorry for not posting I'm a little jelly person and i am doing my Best #art #digitalart #selfportrait

A post shared by Midhu Ismail (@starburstfarts) on Jul 3, 2019 at 7:38am PDT

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PRINCESS MONONOKE The first of the Ghibli series I'm doing this Ramazan/ sem break. For some reason this paper didn't take the water so well so you can see the paint and water sort of staining a bit on her skin. Says 300 gsm but doesn't feel like it. . . . . #watercolour #painting #paint #art #watercolourpainting #ghibliart #ghibli #studioghibli #princessmononoke #hayaomiyazaki #drawing #mononokehime

A post shared by AISHAI (@_.aishai._) on May 17, 2019 at 12:16am PDT

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Jumping on the bandwagon with the @kurboi #drawthisinyourstyle for #kurboi50k! . . . . . #digitalart #digitalpainting #illustration #artistsoninstagram #illustree #gfxmob #designarf #vaniladesign #graphicroozane #supplyanddesign #designground #kidillustrations

A post shared by Zeina Shareef (@zzzeinasart) on Jun 17, 2019 at 4:55am PDT

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2010

A post shared by Aznym Adam (@azuneemu) on May 1, 2019 at 3:43am PDT

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“Exploration” .💦 .🔥 .🌞 . #huraaisland #huraakulhi #lightroom #lightroomedit #instagrammer #instadaily #instalike #instamood #instagood#photo #photography #photographer #photooftheday #photofromiphone #colours #iphone #iphonephotography #goodvibes #vibes #maldives #maldivesislands ...

A post shared by Rilwan (@r_i_l_w_r_n) on May 1, 2019 at 12:35am PDT

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Work in progress.. inked. #oceanjunk #series #art #ink #acrylic #environmentalart #surrealart #savetheocean #savethereef #savetheplanet #visualpoetry

A post shared by Afu Hasan (@afumeeha) on Jul 6, 2019 at 11:30pm PDT

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Color 3 . . . #illustration #illustrator #art #artistsoninstagram #artist #artist_features #artist_4_shoutout #figurestudies #figuredrawing #abstract #abstractart #digitalart #digitaldrawing #wacom #artsglobal #abstractexpressionism #sketch #sketchzone #sketchdaily #araakaa #ltmiseemyart

A post shared by ARAAKAA (@araakaa) on May 1, 2019 at 11:04am PDT

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Friday = more time to draw. . . . #indian #saree #culture #vscoart #procreate #digitalart #vaniladesign #art #artistsoninstagram #illustration #portrait

A post shared by Zaya Ahmed (@zayadraws) on Apr 26, 2019 at 10:08am PDT

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Diving deep within. . . . . . #inkonpaper #inkart #geometry #sacredgeometry #metatronscube #ageofaquarius #mandala #art #artistsoninstagram #trippy #trippyart #geometry #drawing #abstractart #artwork #lsd #floweroflife #seedoflife #metatronscube #abstract #surreal #artworknow #sacredgeometry #psychedelics #artgallery #surrealart #inkart #symmetry #maldivianartist #conceptart #characterart #characterdesign #linedrawing

A post shared by Mohamed Ahmed (@art.by.mohamed) on Apr 22, 2019 at 5:04am PDT

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Unmasked

A post shared by Maizan Azlym (@maizan_azlym) on Apr 19, 2019 at 8:02am PDT

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Design approved by citycouncil 😌

A post shared by Lolakun (@lo_lakun) on May 25, 2019 at 1:37am PDT

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މަސް

A post shared by hsniyaz (@hsnniyaz) on Apr 16, 2019 at 11:51am PDT

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36daysoftype : f g h i j

A post shared by Asthu Shahindha (@asthu.s) on Apr 11, 2019 at 8:36pm PDT

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Swirling Sharks Here's a palette cleanser. 💧 Taken with the Nikon D3200 in Athuruga,Maldives #sharks #shark #babysharks #maldives #ariatoll #photography #dslrphotography #lightroom

A post shared by Ibrahim Salah | Photography (@maldivianfish) on Apr 11, 2019 at 2:33am PDT

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Day 29 #inktober #inktober2018 #inktobermv #inktobermv2018

A post shared by Jauna Nafiz (@jauteez) on Oct 29, 2018 at 2:56pm PDT

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A post shared by trivialinfidel (@trivialinfidel) on Apr 10, 2019 at 11:45am PDT

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Style is something each of us already has, all we need to do is find it." —Diane von Furstenberg . . . . . . @dvf #maldives #doubledot #lifestyle #fashion #canon #fashioninspo #bl #vitiligo #vitiligomodel MUHA:@mykx_official Models: @dyna.maldives @veryviti

A post shared by Mohamed Azmeel | Maldives (@doubledot.mv) on Apr 9, 2019 at 5:23am PDT

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A shoot after a long break @dyna.maldives @jaybeautystudiomv #photography #fineartphotography #art #photo #maldives #fashion #beauty #editorial #colors #hope love #photoshoot #photoshop

A post shared by Hisham Agil (@hishamagil) on Apr 8, 2019 at 10:58pm PDT

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Before #winteriscoming there was #omariscoming on #hbo . He had his shotgun. Watch #thewire to rinse yourself of the current bad writing on #gameofthrones #omar is the king. You come at the king, you best not miss. 😎 #motiongraphics #aftereffects

A post shared by Ahmed Shan (@shaan3990) on May 9, 2019 at 4:38am PDT

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Kinomoto Residence ✨ #zarascomics #cardcaptorsakura

A post shared by Zara’s Comics (@zarascomics) on Jul 7, 2019 at 11:50am PDT

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I miss our face painting and photo sessions with bad quality cameras and snapchat filters. You are and will always be my biggest inspiration 🖤

A post shared by NAS (@nashfarts) on Mar 30, 2019 at 9:06am PDT

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𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰? 🌻🖤

A post shared by 𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 (@aye.shaaa._) on Apr 20, 2019 at 9:13am PDT

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📸: @_hiyala

A post shared by Eena (@eena0823) on Jul 7, 2019 at 4:34am PDT

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hulhumalé. #35mm

A post shared by Izana (@izznzz) on Jun 7, 2019 at 11:47pm PDT

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detail of 'nyx' scroll by 🌙 oil paint on a wood panel

A post shared by maldha (@malsart) on Dec 24, 2018 at 4:48am PST

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🐦 for #redditgetsdrawn Tools : iPad Pro + @procreate . . . #art #tropicalsummer #characterdesign #portrait #vscoart #instaartist #instaart #artistsoninstagram #artagram #artworkoftheday #instaart #instaartist #art_spotlight #procreate #ipadproart

A post shared by Razzan (@_razzan_) on Jun 19, 2019 at 9:54am PDT

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Boy 👨‍🦱 . . . . . . #photography #photooftheday #love #photo #instagood #nature #art #photographer #like #instagram #picoftheday #travel #follow #fashion #beautiful #photoshoot #mode #style #naturephotography #bhfyp #travelphotography #happy #life #portrait #ig #beauty #landscape #bhfyp

A post shared by SHAIHAN FAIX (@shaihan_faiz) on Jul 5, 2019 at 3:01am PDT

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A post shared by އޭސ (@yourass_) on Apr 20, 2019 at 11:38pm PDT

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~ Fashion fades, only style remains the same. -Coco Chanel ~ . . . Model @shaffa.__ Special thanks to @_kweeeeen

A post shared by Mohamed Maahy (@maahy0__0) on Mar 24, 2019 at 7:18am PDT

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A man from Bangladesh preparing a fishing net in Male' City. . . . . . . . . . . #maldives #fishing #documentaryphotography #photojournalist #photograpy #photojournalism #ocean #islandlife #marinelife #instatravel #lonelyplanetmaldives #tropical #instafollow #worldculture #photostory #portraits #portraitphotography #visualstorytelling #everydayasia #everydayraajje

A post shared by Avva (@ashwafaheem) on Jul 7, 2019 at 1:12am PDT

So guys. My song Heavens and Sins just made it to the semi-finals in the International Unsigned Only Song Competition, chosen out of around 6000 songs submitted worldwide. Uhh... so ya I'm happy af pic.twitter.com/dY33hlKdcV

— Karam (@karamibrahimali) July 9, 2019

[noorakardemmomesaetre]

I’m Sorry, What?

Read Me on Ao3

Pairing: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: Betty Cooper’s massive crush on new Southside Serpent, Jughead Jones, has her a bit…distracted. 

Monday, 9:43AM

One curl falls beneath his gray crown beanie, against the back of his tanned neck and Betty fights the urge to reach out and touch it, to feel the softness of his hair between her fingers.

She’s biting the cap of her pen, her mind wandering past the Appalachian Mountains and the geographical facts that coincide, a topic the class is currently discussing, to where she thinks he keeps that crown beanie when he’s not wearing it.

Does it hang on his bedpost while he sleeps? Does he shove it in his backpack as soon as he gets home, finally free to be himself? Does it lay on the bathroom countertop when he takes a shower?

Betty’s cheeks burn the lightest shade of pink as her mind wanders to the steam in his shower, the hot water dripping down his toned and bare-

“Ms. Cooper?”

The pen cap falls from her mouth as Betty immediately lifts her gaze to her teacher who is standing at the front of the classroom, a questioning expression on her face.

Her classmates who aren’t secretly texting under their desks turn to look at her, but Betty’s eyes are fixated on the chalkboard, her ears ringing as she sees out of the corner of her eye the gray beanie in front of her shift in his seat.

“I’m sorry…what?”

Tuesday, 12:36PM

“If I had more time to practice, I’d basically be able to write an entire album,” Archie is saying and Veronica is smiling and nodding as if he’s talking about the most stimulating and entertaining topic she’s ever heard and Betty has to give it to her, she’s quite impressive at faking interest.  

Betty attempts to replicate Veronica’s smile and nod along as well, but he walks in and Betty’s eyes drag to the door of the cafeteria where he’s currently talking to another Serpent.

They laugh at something he’s said and Betty’s heart catches in her throat, his laughter melodic and rare.

She wonders if she’d have found that joke funny, was he being sarcastic? Or was it a clever pun that had his Serpent brother grinning?

“Betty,” Veronica’s calling her name, her eyes wide in a “help me” way and Betty immediately tunes back into the conversation.

“Archie, maybe you need to buy a planner-” but her voice falters before falling off completely as he and his friends make their way past Betty’s table, his gaze meetings hers for the briefest of moments.  

“Easy, how?” Archie asks, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as Betty immediately grabs her bottled water to take a sip.

“I’m sorry…what?”

Wednesday, 3:47PM

River Vixen practice has never been more draining, dragging on and on and making Betty wish she’d faked a stomach ache after school today.

“Again!” Cheryl snaps, her arms folded and her bright red lips pursed as the vixens back up into formation. A small smile flits across her face when her eyes meet Toni’s, but it immediately falls back into a frown as the formation quickly disappoints.

Betty wipes the sweat from her brow as she tries to catch her breath, glancing up at the bleachers where the Serpents have currently entered, laughing and talking loudly as they find seats amongst the empty space.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket and he takes a seat on a higher bleacher than the rest, his legs kicked out in the bleacher below him.

“Betty, hello? You’re sloppy at best today and it’s embarrassing.”

He’s pulled off his beanie now, his fingers running slowly through his hair before he tugs it back on. His eyes drift towards the vixens and Betty bites her lip, immediately wondering if he finds cheerleaders attractive.  If he finds blonde cheerleaders attractive…

“Betty!” Cheryl snaps her fingers loudly in her face, breaking the gaze he had just met.

“Sorry!” Betty sucks in a breath and quickly whips her head towards a clearly irritated Cheryl, “…what?”

Thursday, 8:10AM

Ten minutes late.

Betty has never been late for anything a day in her life and here she is, ten minutes late, her books falling from her normally pristinely organized locker.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispers to herself, kneeling down to pile them together with one hand, the other hand clutching a desperately needed (although now fully regrettable) Americano.

His signature black combat boots stop in front of her before kneeling down to pick up a few loose pieces of paper that had drifted from her binder.

Her eyes lift to his when he holds out his hand, offering her the sheets of paper, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks, Sweet Pea,” she says softly, the pounding of her heart fading upon realizing it’s not him, but one of his brothers.

“Late to class, tsk tsk Betty Cooper,” Sweet Pea grins, offering to hold her coffee as she stands and attempts to reorganize.

“I’m having one hell of a morning,” she sighs, slamming her locker shut and brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, “as if you couldn’t already tell.”

She takes her coffee from him just as another Serpent turns down the hallway and Betty immediately looks down, her breath catching in her throat when she recognizes him.

“Jones, you on your way Mcclellan’s class or are you skipping that shit today?”

Jughead lips tilt into a smirk that makes Betty draw her bottom lip between her teeth, a warmth pooling in her stomach she hadn’t felt only seconds before.

He kneels down and picks up a light pink and gold etched pen that had rolled from Betty’s backpack when she’d first arrived, walking up and offering it to her with a small smile.

Blinking, she lifts her hand to take it, her fingers brushing his just barely, the electricity she feels making her quickly shove the pen into her back pocket, before he nods to Sweet Pea and continues down the hallway.

“Wow,” Sweet Pea laughs, raising both eyebrows and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket, “the princess of Riverdale has a thing for our very own Serpent Prince.”

Betty quickly whips her head back to him, her ponytail swinging behind her as her eyebrows furrow, “I’m sorry…uh, no… what?”

Friday, 7:14PM

“You look gorgeous, babe.”

Veronica smiles at Betty and takes a step back to admire her work. It’s the opening game and Betty is fully decked out in her brand new and fitted River Vixen cheerleading outfit, high bouncy ponytail, and light pink lipstick.

She giggles, twirling once to show off all sides, before the locker room door slams open and Cheryl walks in, arms folded across her chest and wearing a stern take-no-shit facial expression.

“Ready, ladies?” Toni runs her tongue along her bottom lip, grinning at her girlfriend and Cheryl’s tough facade breaks temporarily to blow Toni a kiss.

As they rush onto the field, Betty dragging a bit as it’s her first game as a Vixen and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous, the crowd headed to their seats intermingles with them and Betty slams into a tall, lanky body.

She feels the arm wrap around her waist just before she falls and she quickly rights herself, stepping out of the guy’s grasp.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-”

Her eyes widen when she realizes the ever-so-helpful arm belongs to that of Jughead Jones.

He’s rubbing the back of his neck, a look of concern clear on his face as he waits for her to say something…

Anything, Betty, come on…use your words!

“It’s no problem, Jughead,” she finally breathes, a sparkling smile replacing the grimace that had fallen on her face when she’d slammed into him, “it’s pretty crowded tonight.”

He’s smiling now, adjusting his crown beanie as he steps closer to her in an effort to get out of the rushing crowd’s way.

“I really want to make a comment about how cliche and Friday Night Lights this situation is, but-” he laughs teasingly and motions to her clearly cliche high school cheerleading outfit.

Her cheeks burn but she giggles in response, “you’re probably the first guy to ever not like a cheerleading outfit.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

His tongue brushes against his top lip as her mouth parts in surprise and he chuckles nervously, that same hand rubbing the back of his neck.

She knows her cheeks are flushed pink and not because of the chilly breeze brushing past them, but now his lips are moving and she can barely hear him and she’s leaning closer to him and -

“What?”

“I said,” he grins at her, and shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, “I think you’re missing your opening cheer.”

“Shit!” she squeals, noting the way the girls are jogging into formation, knowing she has less than a minute, and flashing him her most dazzling apologetic Betty Cooper smile as she makes to walk past him.

“Cooper!” he calls out and she feels the adrenaline already racing through her body intensify as she stops and turns her head towards the sound.

He’s jogging to catch up to her and when he stops, the beat to the Vixens’ opening number drops, but Betty’s long forgotten the reason she’s even at this game tonight.

His eyes are the stormiest shade of blue she’s ever fallen into and she smiles encouragingly, biting her lip as he glances behind her at the start of the Vixen’s cheer.

“I just…” he pulls his beanie from his head and runs his fingers through his hair nervously, before he finally shrugs, smiling as he says, “I just wanted to let you know…I’ve noticed you too.”

“I’m sorry…” she says, her voice thick with surprise, as he tugs on his beanie and turns around, leaving her to stare at the Southside Serpent emblem stitched onto the back of his leather jacket as he saunters away, and she whispers happily to herself, “what?”

I was in the mood for a little soft Betty pining after the new Serpent, Jughead. Enjoy and leave me your thoughts if you’d like! Hearing them is one of my fave parts of writing! ❤ xo

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 9/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 9/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "Maybe had they done a mistake by giving Maxence a sedative."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“It is safer and wiser to cure unhealthy rivalry than to suppress it.” - Obafemi Awolowo.

CHAPTER 9:

Rose was back to her previous spot: in the cage with the shadow of her husband. He was still asleep. The sedative Liv had given him must have been a really strong one or it was just that he needed that sleep. The rats and even Peggy showed no sign of needing sleep. They barely ever lay down and got some rest. They were always going round and round in their cages. Only the sane rats were getting sleep. The infected ones who weren’t showing symptoms were sleeping too. Maybe had they done a mistake by giving Maxence a sedative. She approached the interactive glass wall and checked his vital signs. Another invention from Zachary: inject tiny self-destructive sensors connected to the lab system in the blood of the subject. It was easier than sticking sensors on every inch of skin. Sensors that could be torn off whenever that subject was angry. The negative point of those sensors was that they were less economical because you had to renew them every week. It was already a miracle that they could survive so long in a hostile system and Zachary was doing his best for them to last longer. Anyway, this was a great evolution for their work. It made things a lot easier. Especially since they could see what a nightwalker was able to do. Rose observed the details displayed on the wall. Maxence’s vital signs were different from usual, more human like. Nightwalkers had a very high blood pressure and so their heartbeats were faster than normal. But at this precise moment, Maxence was showing almost normal vital signs. Was it the sedative? Like an after effect or something? She glanced at Maxence. His skin was still translucid with blue tentacles and yet, she could see through this ghostly appearance. Rose opened a video recording software. She was gonna do her new video log here. It wasn’t like she had anyone to talk to. Maxence was just asleep from the drugs and Zachary was himself napping behind the control panels. He had done his job perfectly and could get some rest. No one was gonna report him to Tegan. Just like no one was gonna report Rose because she was being too close of an infected person. They were a family and a family stuck together whenever they were facing a hard time. Sixth day of October 2017. Day 1750 since the infection. Rose Spitz video log. A few hours have barely passed by since the arrival of our first and only living specimen but we’re already working hard to improve and correct our attempts of a cure. It’s too early to have any real result but some differences already show up between humans and animals. If our current patient suffers from the same symptoms the rats and Peggy have, he’s also distinguishing himself by having different reactions. We know for sure that infected people are deprived of all the primary needs: they don’t feel the thirst, the hunger or the need for sleep. That’s what we think at least because that’s what we’ve seen so far but our patient number one shows us another side of this disease. A more human side of it. At 5:33am, he was given a sedative, a normal dose for a normal human since we didn’t know what dose would work on him. He has fallen asleep in a few seconds. His system has recognised the sedative and reacted positively to it. Right now, it’s 6:43am and the patient is still asleep. He almost seemed normal like this, if it wasn’t for the translucent skin and blue tentacles. His system is also reacting to the sedative, calming down his vital signs. 72 beats every minute, blood pressure at 130/85mmHg, PaO2 at 78mmHg and pulse ox at 92 percent. Still out of the normal rates but close enough. The sedative forced the system to a more human pace. The patient hasn’t woken up yet. We may have another hour before he does. Unless it goes wrong. Rose swallowed and shut the video recording. She sent the file to her computer and shut the interactive screen. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass. It was hard to speak of her husband that way but it was her job and she had to do it, to tell all the small details that could lead them to that cure. She didn’t have any idea of where they were going at the moment. She just had the feeling of going nowhere, of losing everything, and she hated this. She hated feeling so powerless while everyone around her was falling. She didn’t even have her job to keep her mind distracted because her job reminded her of Maxence, of all the time he had spoken to her about sciences, about all the things he had taught her, about all the moments they had had together until now. She turned around and looked at the sleeping form of her formerly husband. She imagined him outside of this cage, outside of this lab. She imagined him in their bed, at home. He wouldn’t wear these awful grey pyjamas. Instead, he would be in his boxers, or even naked. She had photographed him many times while he was asleep and completely unaware. The pictures did justice to him only when he wasn’t posing for them. Her fingers would brush over his naked skin and he would smile as his body would cover in gooseflesh. His voice would be husky from the sleep he would wake up from slowly. He would wrap his arms around her and press his lips to hers. And he would make love to her softly. A repetitive beeping interrupted her daydreaming and she quickly wiped the single tear rolling on her cheek. Well, tried too. Her hand met with the plastic of her suit protecting her from the virus. How she wanted to rip it away! But she wasn’t Maxence, she wouldn’t accept being a science subject. It meant they would have to kill her or throw her out of this place. And she wouldn’t bear being away from Maxence even if she was losing herself to the noctiagus. His love for her was stronger than his love for science. She was convinced that it was that love he had for her that forced him back here to serve as a science subject. He had wanted to stay by her side, he had known she would take care of him and his first reactions to her presence had made her certain of it. She looked at the wall. The beeping wasn’t coming from it. She had shut the interactive functions. She glanced around her. Nothing was susceptible of making that beeping sound in there and she couldn’t hear sounds from the outside as long as the intercom was off. Then, she realised that it came from her jeans pocket. Her phone was beeping. Probably out of battery. It would shut off soon enough and she would have to charge it to have access to her pictures with Maxence. This sudden thought gave her an idea. She reactivated the interactive wall and logged in her personal cloud. She picked some of the best pictures she had of Maxence and herself, of him and his friends, of him and his colleagues. Once she had all the pictures she needed, no more than ten, she logged out of her cloud. When Maxence would be awake, she would try something with him. She shut the interactive wall again and walked to her husband. His vital signs were almost normal, human. She delicately lifted one of his eyelids. His eyes were as black as when he had arrived here but she could see a pale blue circle in the middle. The ghost of the blue eyes she couldn’t see before. Did it mean that the true Maxence was coming back to her? She could only hope for it. Her hand softly stroked his hairy cheek. He hadn’t shaved in a while. It didn’t bother her. She liked when he was a bit hairy. It was making him sexier. He always laughed whenever she said it. He was refusing to think of himself as handsome. Gargoyle was the word he used. Rose jumped when he suddenly opened his eyes and stared at her with those black frightening eyes. The blue ring was still there. He blinked a couple times, something she had seen him do more than once since he was a nightwalker. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to check his sight. No one had thought of it so far. She stayed still and observed him. He raised a hand and placed it over hers on his cheek. A smile crossed his lips and he tried to speak. A reflex he was supposed to have lost. Nothing came out of his throat but Rose could see the word. Her name. It was her name. “Yes, my love. I’m here.” She gave him a kind reassuring smile but she could see his fear of facing his wife in a cosmonaut suit. He could not even touch her or kiss her. That was frustrating him. He tried to speak again but words remained stuck. He choked on them. “Shh, it’s okay. You can’t speak, honey. Your brain doesn’t know what it is anymore.” But the fact he could think of precise words was a good thing. It meant part of his brain was still working and thinking quite clearly. She had to write it down in her report. “You’re home. In the lab. We’re taking great care of you.” Maxence sat up slowly. He wished Rose wasn’t wearing this suit. He wanted to touch her. He was dying to touch her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to contaminate her and force her to live in one of those cages. He scratched his neck and his fingers met the bandage covering the bite. He frowned. Rose took his hand in hers. “Do you remember how it happened?” It was a bit blurry at first, but the memories came back to him. The mission outside, the kid, the bite, Allegro dragging him away from the nightwalkers, being locked in a bunker, and the crate. Allegro had put him in the crate and brought him back here. He acquiesced. “You’re healing well. The wound wasn’t pretty but it’s better now. I’ll change the bandage later.” The memories were haunting his mind now and it was making him nervous. Rose could feel it. Her hand found his face again and forced him to look up at her. The light circle of blue was already fading away and it saddened her. She was about to hug him, to comfort him, when she saw movements in the cage next to Maxence’s. It had been activated and Zachary was checking all the settings to be sure it was okay to welcome another infected person. Rose walked to the intercom. “Zach? What is going on?” “Liv has Allegro’s results. He’s infected. No symptoms on him. But the virus is in him.” “Damn it.” On the bed, Maxence had grabbed his head in his hands. That was entirely his fault if Allegro was infected, if Xavier was dead. For a nightwalker, he was experiencing a lot of feelings. This part of his brain was supposed to shut down with the virus. Was it because he was struggling not to lose his humanity? “T is working on the scans you’ve made. He wants you to go and work on the samples you have. Adam is already done with the blood.” Rose was ignoring Zachary. She was too focused on her husband. She walked back to him. He was too anxious. Definitely something that only Maxence, the real Maxence, could do. She cupped his cheeks. “Look at me. Maxence, look at me. This is not your fault. Alright? You were given that order. It was his fault. He threw you on the lion’s den and I promise you we’ll find that cure and save you and Allegro. And then, we’ll kick their fucking asses. They have to pay for this. They will pay for this.” Maxence blinked. The blue rings were gone. He was gone. “I love you, Maxence. I’ll never let you down.” He tilted his head. He had understood what she was saying to him but he couldn’t answer to her, or feel something. His feelings were gone and he wanted them back. He wanted to feel what love was, what loving someone and being loved by this special someone felt like. And what did it mean, be strong? He watched her leave the cage. He could still see her – well, her silhouette – as she made her way to the other cage. He got up and went to the wall his cage shared with the other one. He saw three persons coming in. They put down the crate and opened it. Allegro was a much better patient than Maxence but they were different patients. The virus was acting differently on them but unfortunately, it was turning them into study objects. Rose didn’t stay with them for too long. Liv could perfectly handle the situation with Mickey and Kyle. She walked to Tegan’s office. The man was working on the scans. Markers were scattered all over his desk and the scans were full of notes. Rose knocked on the door. Tegan started and turned to face the door. When he saw her, he came to open the door. She stepped on and the door was closed behind her. “I guess you haven’t started working on the samples.” His tone was lightly blaming her for not working on their cure when it was getting more urgent than ever. “He needed me.” “He needs the cure.” “Speaking of this…” “You’ve found something?” “It’s more an observation that I’ve made by being around him. That sedative we gave him had some interesting side effects. I’ve recorded some of them on my video log but you might hear it now.” “Go on.” “The sedative makes him more human. His system is coming back to normal when he’s asleep. Heartbeats, breathing, blood pressure were back to the latest results we have from his medical visit. I’ve also noticed that his iris was visible in the black.” “Anything else?” “He tried to speak to me, and he was struggling against his feelings. Guilt, fear, confusion. It disappeared when the sedative stopped having an effect on him.” “Hm.” Tegan turned back to his scans and Rose raised an eyebrow. She was angry that he was ignoring her and considering these remarks as her undying hope to see something human in Maxence. She had seen it and it was on the video recording of the day. It wasn’t her imagination. It was real. “Come here.” He was bent over the scans once again and he made her a sign to come closer when she didn’t react. He wanted to show her something. She stepped closer and looked at all the scans, deciphering some of the writing on them. “Do you see it?” The difference between the three scans? She sure was seeing it for how clear it was. The first one was marked with a “before infection” note. It was Maxence’s results from the last checkup that had been made in him. The second was wearing the inscription “after infection – before the sedative”. The scan wasn’t one of the best since Maxence kept moving but it was clear enough to see that the brain wasn’t working like it should. On the third one – “after infection – after the sedative” – it was a mix between the two first ones. The areas controlling dreams and feelings were active when they were totally off when Maxence was awake. “The nigtwalkers are deprived from the primary needs that make us human: sleep, hunger, thirst, feelings. But if you force their system into one of those needs, like sleep, it appears that they can come back to their normal self. You’re not the only one to have noticed it, Rose.” “But it’s only temporary. Once the effects of the sedative wear off, he was that… he wasn’t himself anymore.” “Yes, but it’s another clue given to us. We just have to work on that new lead. Write your report and send it to me. I’ll transfer it to Martha with my own conclusions.” “Alright.” “And do your job before going back to him.” “Yes.” Tegan had made it sound like a suggestion but Rose was taking it as an order. After all, he was the boss now and she was just his second in command. And he was right, Maxence needed the cure more than he needed her. She was the one who needed him around, just to know that he was still there somehow. On that thought, she went to her lab to work on the samples she had taken from Maxence earlier.

x

Colin had managed to get his hands on Maxence’s blood. He had knocked Adam out for that one purpose. It had also been to give that little prat a little lesson he wouldn’t forget so easily. While he was counting the stars above his head, Colin had opened the cold room and had stolen some of the blood that was kept there. Only two tubs so no one would suspect anything. It wasn’t much to work with but it would do for now. Until Adam gave in and became his spy. He was working with precaution not to lose any drop of blood. It wasn’t easy to work with so little but he was still managing to get better results than that team of losers. They were gonna regret their decision to have put him aside when he would have found the solution. CBC with Differential/Platelet White blood cells: 12,8/ul. 4,0 – 10,5. Red blood cells: 4,5/ul. 4,10 – 5,60. Haemoglobin: 12,5/g/dL. 12,5 – 17,0. Haematocrit: 40%. 36,0 – 50. MCV: 84fL. 80 – 98. MCH: 27,2pg. 27,0 – 34,0. MCHC: 32,9g/dL. 32,0 – 36,0. RDW: 12%. 11,7 – 15,0. Platelets: 260/uL. 140 – 415. Neutrophils: 65%. 40 – 74. Lymphs: 46%. 14 – 46. Monocytes: 5%. 4 – 13. Eos: 3%. 0 – 7. Basos: 1%. 0 – 3. Neutrophils (Absolute): 7/uL. 1,8 – 7,8. Lymphs (Absolute): 4/uL. 0,7 – 4,5. Monocytes (Absolute): 0,4/uL 0,1 – 1,0. Eos (Absolute): 0,3/uL. 0,0 – 0,4. Baso (Absolute): 0,2/uL. 0,0 – 0,2. Immature Granulocytes: 0,5%. 0 – 1. Immature Gran (Abs): 0,1/uL. 0,0 – 0,1. Colin read the results of the test he had just done on Maxence’s blood. A simple complete blood formula to see where the troubles were. The results seemed pretty normal to him despite the current condition of the man. His body was fighting an infection which wasn’t surprising and it was trying to heal the bite and burns while fighting the virus. His immune system was overwhelmed with work and the fact that he wasn’t eating or sleeping wasn’t helping it to be stronger. So Maxence was suffering from a certain anaemia. Adam had noticed the presence of leukocytes in his own notes and he hadn’t made a conclusion of that, but Colin did. Those leukocytes, it meant the fool was fighting the virus as if he had any chance to heal himself with just his will. Something was forcing him to fight, to come back to his real self. His wife obviously. How cliché of him. For a friend of Maxence, these results would be alarming. If the man kept struggling against the virus, he would kill himself. His own body would work against him and slowly kill him. Good thing he was in a bubble completely sterile. His system could only fight one virus at a time and the noctiagus was the top priority. If he was to catch even a simple cold, he would suffer from it longer than normal. Or he would die from this. The two options were quite nice for Colin. He had stopped being Maxence’s friend a long time ago. They used to be rivals but Maxence getting it all had caused Colin to get envious and jealous and that was why they were the best enemies now. The world would be boring without an adversary as clever as Maxence. That was why Colin was working on this cure instead of watching everything happen. He would be the saviour for once. He was doing the work of many men and women all alone but he didn’t mind. He preferred working alone. Everyone was thinking he was a sociopath because of it, and because he liked seeing the others around him in pain. He wasn’t refuting those rumours. He liked hearing them here and now whenever he was walking in a corridor. He would rather be feared than loved. All the contrary of that good old Maxence. Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven once wrote Milton and Colin had made this quote his motto. The world was hell and he was forming his realm slowly. The first step was this: healing Maxence Spitz and showing him who was the best of them both. Colin considered himself as the best. After all, he wouldn’t have had the bad idea of getting infected and giving his body to sciences. He wasn’t so idiot, nor generous. He put a drop of blood on a small glass plate and sealed it. Then, he placed it under his microscope. The usual cells appeared under his eyes when he looked through the magnifying glass. He changed the settings of his work utensil to have a better sight on that unusual behaviour the cells were having. He found the usual lymphocytes – a great lot of them – monocytes, eosinophils, basophils, neutrophils and platelets. He also found the virus, a spiky ball of green and violet attacking the other cells and eating them. No mercy in there. The lymphocytes were producing antibodies to fight but the noctiagus was stronger than Maxence’s blood cells. It was winning and leaving bodies in its wake. This thing was worse than any existing cancer and Colin was fascinated by it. Whoever or whatever had created it was a real genius. He wished he was that genius. He put the small glass plate away and wrote some more notes on the cells behaviour. He had an idea of how he was gonna process to mix another cure. He wrote down the formula he had mixed previously for Rose and Clara. He grabbed another pen of another colour and corrected what was wrong in it. He replaced those false data with the ones he was deducing from his observations. It didn’t take him long before he could find a new formula that was more elaborate and more precise than the former one. Creating it was the hardest part. He took his time. He didn’t fear to be double-crossed by Tegan’s team. They were all a bunch of losers. Jack only thought about having sex with the whole building, Rose was too devastated by the loss of her husband to be efficient, Martha was far behind him, Tegan… Tegan was just a weak idiot who had been given power. And that power would destroy him. His new cure was done. The day had gone by very quickly and it was night again. He hadn’t slept in more than two days and yet, he was still good at what he was doing. He filled a small vial with a dark green fluid and put a cork on it. He made sure that it was well-sealed and stuck a label on it. He didn’t write the formula, just the number of the cure: #344. Then, he slipped it in his pocket and put away his notes. No one needed to know what he was doing in there. He left his lab when he was done. Now that his cure was done, he had to find a way to make sure it would be given to the idiot Maxence was. He went to the dormitories. He knew he would find Adam there. Liv must have examined him and sent him to rest. He couldn’t work with the headache he supposedly had now. But he could pretend he needed to see Maxence for a test. “I said I didn’t want to be a part of your plans.” Colin smirked and turned around. He hadn’t even had to go to the room Adam was sharing with his colleagues to find him. The young man came out of the small kitchen they had while Colin was walking down the corridor. He turned around. Except for them, the corridor was empty. “You also said you wanted to be the best.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “We both know you have no chance of finding a cure to this virus, pretty boy. You might be clever and manipulative, you don’t have the right knowledge to mix something as intricate as this cure.” He put his hand to his pocket and pulled out the vial he showed to Adam. “I do.” “How did you…” “It doesn’t matter. I’ve mixed a new cure and you’re the only one to know.” “Well, great for you. But you can’t get any close to Maxence.” “But you do.” “I won’t do that.” “And if that’s the right cure, Adam? You would leave your boss into the claws of death?” Adam hesitated. He was nervously picking at his fingers, thinking about he best way to do things. Colin was right: he couldn’t mix a cure on his own but Colin definitely could and he was real good at it. If the vial he had in hand was the solution to that virus and Adam refused to test it then, he was condemning Maxence. As ambitious as he was, Adam didn’t want anyone to die. So he had to give in and accept that cure. Colin was winning again. “What do you want?” “A copy of everything they will send to you. All the results of all the tests. I can’t have access to it but you do. I need them to do a better work. If the one I’ve done here isn’t good enough.” Colin lightly shook the vial and the dark green colour caught Adam’s eyes. He had no choice: he accepted and Colin gave him the new cure. Now, Adam had to find a way to give it to Maxence. Knowing the man wasn’t trusting anyone anymore, it wouldn’t be an easy task…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

Jack was highlighting the most important data from the results given by Tegan. He was remarking the same details that Colin had noted earlier – details he wouldn’t share – and came to the same conclusions. He was alarmed by the risks there were for Maxence to die from the virus so he sent a message to Liv and Zach for them to keep a closer eye on him and be sure he wouldn’t get in any trouble, more than he already was. This done, he worked on the DNA data he had gathered. Maxence’s results were similar to Peggy’s but his genetic code was presenting some interesting particularities that needed to be studied to find the reason why it was so different.

×××

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English version:

AO3 || Download - CHAPTER 9 || FF || TS || Wattpad.

Buy me a coffee?

[maybankiara]

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera

chapter summary: JJ faces his past. Things with the Heyward match seem to be getting more complicated, and there's a promise to his manager that JJ has obliged to keep. His friends, though, are here to help out.

word count: 10k

what we once had masterlist

read on ao3

The helmet comes off, and not even a moment passes before JJ’s tasting salt on his tongue, with wind swirling between the beach houses. He hops off his bike with ease, holding the helmet underneath his arm, and locks it all in place. Sweat has plastered his hair to his forehead and it’s wet as he runs his hand through it, in a vain attempt at making it look a little less stiff.

 He walks forward, between the houses until he’s reached the place where the sidewalk meets the sand, stretching on each side as far as he can see. It’s a hell of a sight, and one that he doesn’t see too often.

 There’s a pier in front of him, a little to the left, with people jumping off it. The beach itself is filled with people, too, mostly sunbathing as spring heats are starting. JJ sees a couple of surfers paddling on their boards, out to catch the early morning waves.

 His chest tightens at the thought. It’s been a while since the last time he surfed, or even touched the ocean. He tells himself he doesn’t miss it, but each time he sees the vastness of the ocean and feels its call, it rings a little less true.

 Coming to the beach is something that has happened less than a handful of times, since he arrived in California.

 JJ sits on a bench at the edge of the sidewalk. All he can hear is the gulls crashing into waves and people’s chatter – the houses muffle the sounds from the street.

 Moments like these are something JJ doesn’t allow himself to have very often. Seeing people living their lives like they belong to the ocean reminds him of what he’s lost, and JJ Maybank has done everything in his capacity to forget the past. The ocean, the waves, the thrill of riding water with nothing but a wooden board to support him – he’s sacrificed all of it.

 It was his only choice.

 There’s a memory, one that he doesn’t seem to be able to get rid of, fluttering in the back of his mind, slithering its way into the forefront. He feels the board under his chest as a wave splashes into his mouth and all he tastes is salt, and it’s so much of it that he coughs, while his friends laugh. He recalls splashing the curly-haired girl on his left with water, and it goes back and forth until he takes hold of her legs and drags her off the board. The other two join them in the wrestling, and JJ feels his head being pushed underwater, time and time again, all with laughter. The waves come and go and they rise to their surfing boards and catch them, one friend teasing the other. The memory is so real that it seems as if he can still feel the wave underneath his fingertips as he rides on it, keeping himself on the board until the very last moment. The girl in front of him is just as good, if not better, and the smile she gives him… In the moment, the two of them are all there is. The rest of the world can go screw itself, for all he cares, as long as they’re riding the waves and she’s smiling at him like she knows. But then the wave crashes over him and JJ nearly drowns, and the memory crashes to an end.  

 JJ heaves a sigh, letting his body relax against the back of the bench. The helmet is still on his lap and he’s tapping against it, the rhythm akin to that of the waves crashing on the beach.

 He glances at his phone to check the time – 9:43am. He’s got over an hour until he needs to be at the cafe. There’s also a missed call from Elliott; JJ twirls the phone around in his hands, waiting for the tightness around his chest to loosen its grip.

 JJ Maybank’s a fighter, not a surfer. He’s done with that – he is done with the reputation the Maybank name had carried until now. He doesn’t need to be just another fisherman, another surfer, another goddamn waste of space who can’t breathe without water.

 The phone rings. Elliott answers on the third bell.

 ‘My phone was on silent,’ says JJ, in lieu of a greeting. ‘What’s up?’

 ‘Daphne and I are arguing about’—‘Discussing,’ is demanded in the background—‘Right, discussing tables.’

 JJ laughs Elliott’s little aggravated sigh. ‘Tables?’

 ‘Seating arrangements. Daphne is saying we should put Ada and Julianna with the gym table, and I’m saying—’

 ‘Julianna? Jorge’s ex?’ JJ shakes his head, unable to fight the grin forming on his face. ‘Dude, no way. They’ll kill each other.’

 ‘Exactly! She keeps saying it’ll be good to reunite them.’ Elliott repeats JJ’s words to Daphne, who replies something the phone doesn’t catch. ‘Can you come over? We need a mediator.’

 ‘You mean you need someone to support you.’

 The ocean’s call is quieter than his friend’s chuckle. ‘Not too far from the truth. Actually, Daphne’s sister brought some cookies last night, they’re really good, and there’s still a lot left. I would bring them to the gym, but you know Tommy.’

 ‘Yeah,’ chuckles JJ. His fingers are playing with the chinstrap, lightly pushing the inner foam of the helmet. ‘Look, the cookies sound great and all, but I’ve actually got something in a bit.’

 ‘Something,’ Elliott repeats with a hint of teasing. ‘Something that’s got you all mysterious?’

 ‘If it goes well, maybe I’ll tell you about it.’

 Elliott hums in response. ‘Alright. I’m hoping it goes well, then.’

 ‘Thanks.’ JJ itches the skin below his jaw. ‘Hey, Elliott?’

 ‘Yeah?’

 ‘Can you bring those cookies to the gym, actually? Tommy doesn’t need to see them, just give them to me in a box.’

 There’s laughter on the other end of the line and Elliott, muffled, tells Daphne that JJ wants the cookies, after all. He promises to bring the cookies and wishes JJ luck, again, with whatever it is he’s got coming up. JJ thanks him and a part of him wishes he wasn’t so persistent in keeping the whole thing a secret. It’s a fleeting thought – JJ knows that the more he talks about something, the more real and permanent it becomes.

 This is a one-time thing. Nobody needs to know. In a few hours, it will all be done and over with.

  ★

JJ parks the bike a few blocks away, a few minutes before it hits eleven. He knows he’s going to be late, but he didn’t account for the lack of parking spots on a Friday morning in the heart of San Diego, and he tells himself that the miscalculation isn’t entirely his fault, or on purpose.

 It’s only a few minutes.

 (And a few years, but JJ doesn’t let the thought fully form in his head.)

 His hands are casually in his pocket and he’s got that casual stride on the pavement and he’s looking around, casually, because he’s not stressed. Because he’s crossing the distance between his bike and the cafe at a normal speed, despite knowing he should probably try not to be any more late than he already is. The people around him are going on about their day as usual and he tells himself that he is doing the same.

 It’s just coffee. It’s just a business meeting. He’s done plenty of those.

 When he spots the cafe’s sign across the street, he’s waiting for a green light. The inside is well-lit and his eyes scan for familiar bushy hair, or braids, or a tie-dyed headband, despite knowing that the distance is too great for him to see anything. The most he can make out are silhouettes and shapes, and all he can do is wonder which one of them she is.

 (He wonders if her skin is still sun-kissed, with faint freckles littered across her face.)

 The green light comes. JJ crosses the street leaning to the left, so when he’s on the other side, he’s not standing in front of the cafe window.

 He takes a big breath, ignoring the increasing pace of his heart’s beating.

 ‘C’mon,’ he whispers, ‘it’s just business.’

 JJ starts walking alongside the window, glancing in. She’s not anywhere on the left side so he peeks towards the right, taking his time as he approaches the entrance door – but there’s no girl that fits his expectations.

 He enters and, for a moment, thinks she isn’t there. His heart sinks in his chest as he frowns, scanning the crowd once again.

 (Did he want to see her?)

 He doesn’t have time to think, because when he lays his eyes upon her, sitting in the very middle of the cafe, he can’t tear them off. His feet are frozen in place and a breath hitched in his throat and he feels as if the world is spinning, just the tiniest bit.

 Her hair’s not curly, but straight with big, elegant waves at the tips; it’s not pulled up into a effortless bun within a moment, but a high, slicked-back ponytail that accentuates her cheekbones and her jawline, and brings the ten years he hasn’t seen her in, to full display. She looks sharper. Too sharp — seeing her brings him into a state that is almost delirious.

 Has he not believed her to be more than a figment of her imagination, after all these years? Has the memory of her been etched into the back of his brain so deeply that combining that with the image of the person in front of him is impossible?

 She’s not looking at him and he’s lucky, because his jaw is on the floor, and he might faint.

 JJ remembers her to look unruly, untamed, wild in every way he could appreciate. Her face is in front of him yet he hardly recognises her, while knowing it’s truly her all the same.

 He brings himself out of it – he’s here for one thing and one thing only.

 Kie doesn’t look up as he approaches her, until the chair opposite of her screeches and he sees himself to it. Her lip quivers a little and she takes a sharp breath, blinking quickly.

 JJ’s had a moment to recalibrate. ‘Hey,’ he greets, and before she gets a word in, ‘look, I’m here strictly on business. Everybody’s been nagging me to do this match and I figured if I get you to stop asking, they’ll do the same. I’m not doing it. I don’t care about the money, or whatever it is that you guys are offering. This match is not happening.’

 All Kie does is stare at him with her mouth slightly agape, brown eyes running over him as if trying to comprehend what she’s seeing. Trying to believe it.

 A waitress comes and asks for his order. Kie’s got hers already, and all he gets is a sandwich and some coffee. It’s good for his stomach. The waitress leaves with a smile on her face because JJ told her she’s done her hair nicely and he sits back, looking at Kie, waiting.

 Expecting.

 She’s tapping her fingers on the table with a sharp look in her eyes, lips pressed together. His gaze doesn’t waver even if he feels scrutinised and judged.

 Kie calls his name. ‘Can’t we just talk, like normal people?’

 ‘I thought you called about a business thing,’ JJ responds, before he can think about the melody of maturity in her voice and how much they’re not kids anymore.

 ‘I did. It’s about the match. But I wanted to—’

 ‘Then let’s talk about the match, yeah? The one that’s not happening? Is that enough?’

 Her eyebrows furrow and she parts her lips to respond when the waitress puts coffee in front of JJ, with a sandwich and a croissant. When he thanks and asks about the croissant, she gives him a sheepish smile. ‘It’s for nice customers.’

 (Later, he finds her phone number written on the bill. He throws it away.)

 Kie relaxes her hand, taking a sip of her coffee or whatever it is that she’s drinking. She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t seem as agitated when she sighs – it’s assurance. ‘If it was just about the match, you wouldn’t have come here.’

 ‘You’re the one who travelled halfway across the States to get here.’

 ‘And?’ Kie’s raised eyebrow is a challenge. ‘I’m here on business because I’ve been invited here, expecting a little more than just a refusal that could’ve been done over the phone.’

 ‘Well, that’s what you’re getting. I’m done.’

 His voice may be steady, but he feels his armpits sweating, and his toes tap a silent rhythm against the parquet. He was a fool to think he could sit it out here, in the cafe, with Kiara fucking Carrera on the other side of the table. He’s only had one rule that he’s stuck to for nearly ten years now and he can’t believe he managed to fuck it up.

 Stupid, he thinks, fucking idiotic.

 JJ rises from his chair with a screech loud enough to turn a couple of heads. He apologises quietly, a little uneasy about causing a commotion.

 ‘You haven’t touched your food, JJ.’

 He glances at it. ‘It doesn’t look very appetising.’

 ‘I have a feeling your waitress will be disappointed.’ There’s a bite to her tone, something more dangerous than the playful kind he’s used to, and it makes him falter – and that seems to be enough. ‘At least stay until you’ve finished your food.’

 Without a word, JJ moves back into his seat, well aware of the eyes still on him.

 There’s no victory in the stifled tilt of Kie’s smile. A little irritation, disbelief, maybe even disappointment, but no gloating. No self-satisfaction in knowing she’s got her way.

 JJ takes a bite out of the croissant, unsettled by the unfamiliarity of the girl in front of him.

 ‘I told you this isn’t happening, so I’m going to finish my food and leave. You’ve got time to say whatever you want to say until then.’

 Kie’s neck tenses and the sip she takes seems almost forceful. The arch of her brow is the same, but the intensity of the gaze is deeper; protruding, rather than tempting. ‘What I want to say?’

 ‘Mhm.’

 ‘You’re unbelievable.’

 ‘Aren’t you supposed to be begging for the match or something?’

 ‘Begging?’ Kie gasps quietly – all her emotions seem to be expressed through the poor cup of coffee, which she nearly slams on the table. ‘You ran away without telling anyone. Without telling us. Pope and I, we— we thought you were dead. For nearly four fucking years. And surprise, guess what? We find out you’re alive by accident, and not only are you alive and well, but getting into boxing, and have the audacity to say I’m here to beg you? Do you know how that feels?’

 ‘No,’ JJ responds, mouth full of croissant, ‘but if the way you’re being right now is saying anything, seems like you’re taking it too close to heart. And for the record, I do kickboxing.’

 ‘Are you fucking kidding me right now?’

 He holds her gaze for a few moments, unwavering. ‘Do I look like I am?’

 If this was old Kie, she would kick off at someone treating her like this. She would curse and tell him off and make him regret ever being born. But no – all she does is lean back in her chair, look to the side with anger palpable but dissipating.

 JJ finishes his croissant and starts drinking his coffee. ‘Did you arrange the match to get to me?’

 ‘No.’

 All he does is raise his eyebrows, and her sigh falters. Her hand reaches for the end of her ponytail, twirling a few strands around her fingers – her hair’s longer than he’s ever seen it, and usually JJ finds this kind of hairstyle hot, but there’s something off about this. He can’t place a finger on it.

 When their eyes meet again, Kie doesn’t seem so…stiff. Her posture drops and she seems to almost fold into herself, letting her hair fall over her shoulder.

 ‘Pope is wanting to try out kickboxing,’ she says, finally. ‘Branch out, and all that. We thought that if we’re doing this, then we might as well try getting you into the equation.’

 ‘Two birds, one stone.’ JJ runs a hand through his hair; it’s no longer sticky, but there’s a weird texture to it, and he’s self conscious about the way he looks for the first time since he’s arrived here. ‘I’m just a pawn in your little game, then.’

 ‘No, JJ— You know that’s not true. We’ve been trying to contact you for years, and this was the only way.’ When he forces a chuckle, she adds, ‘I’m being serious.’

 ‘I thought the lack of ways to contact me would speak for itself.’

 Kie crosses her arms on her chest. ‘Not for everybody. Friends keep trying.’

 The chuckle escapes him before he can stop it. There’s a lot he could say right now but he keeps it to himself, because he doesn’t think she is ready to hear exactly what he thinks about friends. That fateful summer, a lot happened, and a lot of it JJ has been repressing to this very day – the summer didn’t end with the storm.

 He doesn’t see a point in telling her any of that when he’s already moved on. He eats his sandwich, instead, and watches her as if she’s the most boring thing he could possibly be looking at. After this, she’ll know how he feels about the whole reaching out thing. If all goes well, he’ll never have to look at her again.

 ‘It’s been ten years.’ Kie shifts in her seat, gauging his reaction to her statement. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

 ‘There’s a lot more but I don’t think you’d like to hear any of it.’ It comes out snappier than he expected it to and she flinches. ‘See?’

 ‘I’m not doing this for me, JJ.’

 ‘Oh, really? Cause I don’t see Pope anywhere around here, and you sure as hell aren’t doing this for me.’

 JJ says Pope’s name as if it were a curse. Kie flinches at this, again, and he doesn’t like the way he isn’t opposed to seeing her flinch from his words. Maybe some part of him is relishing in the ability to hurt him the way she hurt him all those years ago – a nasty, malevolent part, but a part of him nonetheless.

 Kie stares at him for a moment, as if loading a gun, and then: ‘We’re doing this for John B and Sarah.’

 She fires it.

 JJ feels as if someone’s dragging him by his feet, down into hell, where everybody can see and hear and feel what he sees and hears and feels – the repressed guilt seeping through every scar being cut open. He doesn’t feel like eating anymore.

 But in reality, all he does is set his sandwich back on the plate, and let the bitterness of the coffee fill his mouth. ‘What about them?’

 ‘We never held a funeral for them.’

 ‘We buried them.’

 ‘No, we didn’t,’ she says. Her voice falters. ‘There were no bodies, so we refused to believe they’re really dead.’ She pauses a little and JJ thinks he can see an internal battle within her. ‘We just thought it’d be nice to, you know. Actually pay our respects. Say goodbye. We never really got to do that.’

 ‘I said my goodbyes when I left Kildare,’ JJ retorts. ‘It’s not my problem that you didn’t.’

 Kie sits there, looking as if he’s backhanded her across the cheek. There’s an ache in JJ’s chest when he realises this, yet he drowns it by having the rest of his coffee.

 He’s a quarter of a sandwich away from never dealing with his past again.

 ‘So you don’t want to—’

 ‘No. Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is no.’

 I don’t want anything that’s got you included in it.

 ‘Okay,’ says Kie, with a shaky little breath falling from her lips. ‘If that’s what you want.’

 JJ raises his eyebrows. ‘That’s it?’

 Kie shrugs, a little too nonchalant, fiddling with the phone that was turned face-down on the table until now. Her eyes avoid meeting his. ‘I’m not here to beg, JJ. I tried to get through to you, and you’re refusing, and I’m not a fool.’

 ‘Cool. Thanks.’

 She shakes her head. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing.’

 There’s a beat and it’s almost as if the world has stopped, and then: ‘I’m happy here, Kiara. I don’t think I’ve ever— I’ve never felt like this.’

 She understands what he’s saying, he’s sure of it, and he knows that it hurts her to hear him even if she isn’t showing it. Kie clears her throat and sips the last of her coffee, rising from her chair with more grace than he would’ve expected from her.

 ‘Great, then. I’m glad to hear that,’ she says. ‘Just… Take care of yourself, JJ.’

 ‘Yeah.’

 You too, he thinks, but can’t bring himself to say it.

 He watches her take her purse and put on the leather jacket as if he were watching her in slow motion – she’s taller, he thinks, and the top she’s wearing is skin-tight (JJ tries not to take notice of her curves, but his eyes are only eyes) and the black trousers are elegant, with simple platform shoes to complete the look. It doesn’t seem like the Kie he’s used to, but he guesses the Kie he is—was—used to doesn’t quite exist anymore.

 In her place, instead, is this woman he hardly recognises, who straightens her hear, wears smart clothing and holds herself with the pride worthy of a Kook.

 Guess both of them have grown into their roots.

 An image flashes before him – Kie in her Midsummer’s dress, leaping into his arms with the desire to go on an adventure. She played the role of a lady then, but now she felt like one, and JJ has never been and never will be to consider himself worthy of someone like that.

 It pricks, like a thorn in his foot, and maybe it’s spite that washes over him, or jealousy, or bitterness that their lives have gone this way, and he doesn’t know what comes over him but—

 ‘I thought I was falling for you, you know.’ He lets out a dry chuckle, not shying away from her gaze. ‘I was a fucking idiot.’

 Kie freezes. She’s looking at him as if she wishes she wasn’t – as if the bullet he’d just fired hurts the same as the one she fired at him. Her lip quivers and when the realisation dawns over her, the taken-aback look in the lines around her eyes is so reminiscent of his Kie that JJ almost regrets his words.

 Almost, but he doesn’t. Not when he can still feel the lump in his throat choking him from the mere mention of what he’s lost.

 She rubs her forehead with her finger, opening and closing her mouth for a few seconds, shock slowly dwindling; JJ just watches. Wonders if she’s got another bullet up her sleeve.

 ‘I, um— I’m guessing no one told you.’ She pauses and looks at him – she’s acting as if he hadn’t just confessed that. Instead of anger, or shock, her face is showing  genuine concern; another flash of his Kie. ‘Your dad died two years ago.’

 She doesn’t express her condolences and JJ appreciates that. ‘Thanks.’

 ‘Yeah. Well.’

 He doesn’t ask her to stay. She doesn’t offer.

 Kie leaves without a real goodbye, and JJ is left sitting alone at a coffee table for two, with a quarter of a sandwich he never picks up again. His thoughts are swirling around his head and he thinks he can hear her shoes clicking as she walks through the door, behind him, but doesn’t turn to look.

 The back of his head is ringing loud enough to tune out all the other noise and JJ finds himself drowning in the sound, finally choking on the lump in his throat until it almost kills him.

 But it’s over now – he survived.

 It’s over.

 He buries his head in his hands, and just breathes.

  ★

‘C’mon, Stan, give me a proper jab. You keep going like that and Leila will kick your— Yeah, kid, that’s good!’ JJ pats Stan, a scrawny boy of barely twelve, on the back, and gives him a light shove back towards his training partner. JJ claps his hands, grabbing the attention of all the twenty-ish kids in proximity. ‘Alright, kids. We’re going to switch it up a little. Stan and Owen, go find yourself some space. Stella and Charlie. Simon and Vi. Leila and Allie. Freddie and…’

 Within half a minute, all the pairings have been switched up. Most regular gym-goers are currently away so the kids have got nearly the entire gym to themselves, and JJ likes making use of that.

 ‘Make space,’ he tells them, spreading his arms wide. ‘We’re doing a combo – two jabs, a cross, a hook, and then you finish off with any leg move you’d like, but make it a surprise. Leila, come over.’

 The girl who was just paired with Stanley walks up to JJ, hands locked behind her back as a wide smile stretches across her face. Her hair’s tied up in two pigtails, curly and brown. For a moment, she reminds JJ of another girl with dark curly hair.

 He shakes the thought out of his head.

 ‘Leila,’ he says, raising his hands. ‘You remember the instructions?’

 ‘Two jabs, a cross, a hook, a kick.’

 ‘Alright. You ready to show it on me?’

 The little girl nods, confident. JJ raises his hands and helps her perform the blows, all a little flimsy, but hitting the targets. When she finishes, he gives her a high-five, and Leila skedaddles back next to Allie.

 He blows the whistle and sets the timer on his watch, looking over the kids as they perform. He takes note of Stanley’s fast improvement, Owen’s determination to learn from his mistakes, Leila’s knack for precision, Vi’s astonishing speed, Charlie’s firm defence. Each of the kids has got something special going for them – something that, if JJ does his job right, will get them far in the future.

 JJ loves his job.

 They do some more exercises until the end of the session, when JJ gives them a makeshift obstacle course to go through. Most of them groan, but he tells them that if they want to get somewhere in life, they’ve got to go through the hard stuff, too.

 He isn’t always motivational because he knows it easily becomes too much, but he’s aware that some of these kids don’t have adults to properly guide them. If all he contributes is a statement that hardly makes sense every now and then, but sticks around in their little heads, it’s still better than nothing.

 Besides, JJ likes these kids. He wants to help out as much as he can.

 (He tells himself it’s got nothing to do with his own lack of a positive authority figure when he was a kid.)

 JJ walks up to the ring bell they have in the corner of the gym and strikes it, letting it echo for a bit. The kids scramble themselves into a line and he walks along them, smiling.

 ‘You were great today,’ he tells them. ‘Keep up the progress. You can have a day off tomorrow, but we’re going to start introducing a couple of new things next week, so I’m expecting everybody to be doing some working out even on your days off. Understood?’

 There’s a cheer of yes’s, and JJ’s smile widens. ‘Questions?’

 There’s a cheer of no’s, so JJ extends his hand. Within seconds, all of the kids have got their hands on his, assembled around him in a circle. ‘What are we?’

 ‘WARRIORS!’

 The kids cheer again, as they always do, running off to get changed and leave. JJ watches it unfold with an ease inside his chest – it never ceases to amaze him how easily kids are pleased. All they need is someone to believe in them.

 JJ clears his throat. ‘Simon, it’s your turn to help me tidy up!’

 Another scrawny boy with a red birthmark on his left eyebrow turns around, running over to JJ with no hesitation. Today, there’s a bruise marking his face, too.

 ‘It was my turn last week,’ says the kid.

 ‘Well, sometimes life isn’t fair, so your turn comes twice in two weeks.’ JJ shrugs and throws an arm around the kid—he reaches to JJ’s shoulders—and walks with him to the mats, starting to pile them up.

 Simon is one of the best kids JJ’s ever taught. Smart and quick, easy to miss – all the kids are good, but Simon is the one JJ would put his money on. Kid’s got talent. Now it’s only the matter of time when he’ll start honing it in.

 But he can’t do that if he’s getting into fights outside the gym.

 ‘So,’ JJ says, picking up the cones from the obstacle course. ‘Who managed to get their hands on the hardest kid to aim for?’

 Simon freezes a little. ‘It was just some guys from school. It’s not a big deal.’

 ‘Were you the one who started it?’

 ‘No, Coach,’ says Simon, a little offended. ‘I’d never start a fight.’

 ‘Okay, I don’t doubt it.’ He elbows him gently, so Simon could see the concern on his face. ‘These kids, do they tease you often?’

 ‘Sometimes.’ The kid shrugs; he’s still avoiding JJ’s gaze. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

 ‘Simon—’

 ‘Really, Coach. You don’t need to worry about me.’ He says it with assurance, as if it’s absurd that JJ would even worry about him, and it strikes a note of familiarity JJ wishes it hadn’t.

 JJ sighs and sits down, motioning for the boy to do the same. Most of the other kids have left already so no one would find it odd, even if they took notice. ‘Is your dad expecting you home soon?’

 ‘He’s not going to be home until late.’

 ‘Well, would you like to help me make the plan for next week? Nothing big, just to see what we could do. I haven’t made up my mind yet, so…’

 Simon smiles and the purple on his cheek shines bright under the gym light. ‘I’d love to help, Coach!’

 After training the kids, JJ usually has a training session himself. He either spars with Rocco, who waves at him just now as he enters the gym, or boxes on the punching bag to test his limits. Now, he’s showing Simon how to keep his defence better and firmer and read the opponent’s body language before he evades, including some exercises Rocco showed him a few weeks back.

 Simon doesn’t like help and charity, something that JJ can relate to, but he needs some sort of guidance if he’s going to be dealing with bullies.

 After about half an hour of their one-on-one session, they’re both sweatier than before, and Simon is panting a little. He’s got good stamina for a thirteen-year-old, but that doesn’t always help in a brawl.

 ‘Look,’ says JJ, quietly. ‘I know the rule of the club is no fighting outside the gym. But you can defend yourself, alright? That’s fine. We’re going to understand that. As long as you don’t start anything and you don’t hurt anyone more than you need to defend yourself, it’s fine.’

 The realisation dawns on Simon’s face and his eyes drop to his feet, shoulders slumping. ‘I don’t need special lessons, Coach.’

 ‘I’m not giving you special lessons. You’re going to learn this either today or at some point in the future. I just thought it could be more useful to you now.’

 He doesn’t mean anything by this, but Simon is just thirteen and he’s taking this as a wound on his pride, if the way he’s holding himself is anything to judge by. Maybe JJ isn’t the best person for things like this, but he doesn’t think Simon’s dad can improve his defence in a scrap. Court officials don’t seem like they could hold their own in a street fight.

 ‘Look. You don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to. But when they come at you, the most important thing is to protect your head, if you can’t get away, or run.’

 ‘I can’t run,’ Simon mutters. Something flashes over his face and he adds, ‘Running is for cowards.’

 ‘Running is for smart people who don’t want to get beaten. Take it from me.’ JJ lifts his shirt a little, exposing his lower side – on the left, there’s a thin scar that’s an imprint of one of Rafe Cameron’s rings. ‘Better save your head than your pride.’

 Simon nods. There’s a little hesitation in the way his eyes are glued to JJ’s scar until he covers it. ‘What if really I can’t run?’

 ‘Then you defend yourself.’

 ‘And if I can’t defend myself?’

 ‘Then you hit, and try to run.’

 ‘And what if I can’t do that, either?’

 Who the fuck are these bullies? ‘Then you call me.’

 At this, Simon seems a little more relaxed, and JJ wraps an arm around him again, pulling him closer. Simon’s hands wrap around him without hesitation. ‘Thanks, Coach.’

 The boy’s spirits seem to be lifted when he finally leaves the gym, a little better for the wear. JJ finds himself worrying about the kid – he’s never been a troublemaker and he doesn’t seem like someone who’d be an easy target for bullies, but then again, San Diego works differently than Kildare.

 It could be a one-off thing, JJ tells himself as he finishes cleaning up. The gym starts to fill as it’s just hit half past eleven and he makes a beeline for the punching bag next to Rocco, doing an elaborate handshake with the guy when he spots him.

 ‘What’s up, Daddy Maybank?’

 JJ ties the bandages around his palm with a quirk in his brow. ‘What the hell are you on about?’

 ‘The kid,’ Rocco says, nodding towards where JJ and Simon were sitting. ‘I saw you were dealing with him fine. Was that because of the bruise, or what?’

 ‘He’s got some kids bugging him.’

 ‘You worried about him?’

 ‘Nah.’ JJ extends his hands towards Rocco and he tightens the gloves, tapping them lightly. ‘Simon lives three blocks away from here. He’s tough.’

 Rocco nods and takes a step back before unloading a few punches to the bag hanging in front of him, all light but precise. ‘His dad’s that judge, right?’

 ‘Judge MacIntyre, yeah.’

 ‘Eh. Seems like kind of an asshole.’

 ‘That’s what being a judge does to you,’ JJ mutters, landing a few punches to his own bag; they land heavier than expected. ‘Or having any power over the small man.’

 Rocco lets out a sharp chuckle. ‘Good thing he’s got you, then. You’re going to make a good dad someday.’

 There’s a retort on the tip of JJ’s tongue but he swallows it, and opts for a punch, gritting his teeth, instead.

 ‘Seriously. You’re a natural with kids. No wonder they love having you as a coach.’

 Thud.

 ‘Can we go back to boxing, or are you going to get all sappy now?’

 ‘Alright, alright.’ Rocco raises his hands in defeat, shaking his head a little. ‘No need to get all Rocky Balboa on me for that.’

 JJ heaves a sigh and it’s as much of an apology as Rocco’s going to get. Both of them seem to be aware of that, because they do end up going back to boxing. They agree on a series of timed exercises, all the advanced versions of the ones he plans on giving the kids, chatting about things they’ve got going on for them. Rocco’s recently started a new job downtown as a sous-chef and it’s looking pretty good for him – he’s got a ten-year plan of having his own restaurant, and seven years are already behind him.

 They’re doing variations of the jab-cross-hook-kick combination he gave the kids. JJ’s punches are hard enough to be heard throughout the entire gym, or so it seems – he’s feeling the pressure of the intensity in the tendons throughout the back of his hand, getting tense and sore already. He’s got an unfamiliar stiffness in his shoulders, pushing his feet into the ground; beating the shit out of the bag does little to help to relieve the tension.

 Physically, anyway. Mentally, JJ feels like he’s pushing out every thought he’d repressed to the back of his mind in the past few days – every face and memory that showed up unannounced and unwanted.

 Rocco calls his name, loudly, and JJ gives it one more go until his hands drop to his sides, sweat dripping down his temples.

 ‘Where did you go?’

 ‘Nowhere,’ says JJ. He wants to wipe the sweat off of him, but he knows better than to use his gloves, like he used to. ‘I just thought I’d push myself today.’

 ‘Don’t push too hard just yet. I still want to beat your ass after we’re done warming up.’

 ‘You, beating my ass?’

 ‘Damn right.’

 Rocco winks at him and announces the start of another round. JJ takes it a little easier; his hands ache a little and even his neck is sore from all the tensing, still.

 They end up sparring a few rounds later. Rocco puts up quite a fight but it’s mostly fun, a little dirty, and a little more challenging than one would think a friendly spar would be. Rocco’s good and he’s more of a technical fighter rather than a brawler, which is a stark contrast to JJ (even with all his improvements over the years). Not only is Rocco good at deflecting JJ’s throws from a southpaw stance, but he also knows JJ’s strength and weaknesses better than probably everyone apart from Tommy.

 Sometimes, JJ wonders what would’ve become of Rocco Voigt if he decided to pursue a form of boxing instead of the culinary arts. He could’ve been one of the greats – but some people just prefer to enjoy the quiet simplicities of life.

 (Others, JJ thinks, don’t have that luxury.)

  ★

On Sunday morning, he finds some inspiration for tinkering around the bus. Jorge said that they could add some colour to it, a name spelled out over the entire thing in graffiti (art would be done by Jorge himself), but JJ hasn’t made his mind up on the name just yet.

 He’s sitting on his toolbox with the spring sun high above him, staring at the bus as if it’s going to tell him its name. There’s quite a few things he’s thinking of fixing up today – the suspensors, for a start, and he’s got an additional few sets of screws to hold the back seats in place. He needs to take measurements for a minibar, too, one that he hopes to install by the time the next match comes around, so that the boys don’t need to carry drinks in bags.

 With headphones stuffed into his ears, JJ finds a hard rock playlist to jam to while fixing up the bus. Usually he’d listen to something more soothing, like reggae, but now it doesn’t feel like the right pick.

 Shortly after, JJ finds himself under the bus. There’s a mechanics’ garage just next to the parking lot, where JJ used to work. Still does, occasionally, when he wants to tinker with something and he doesn’t know what to do with the bus. The mechanics there are more than okay with letting him use the equipment on Sundays, provided he pays for what he breaks, if it comes to that.

 It’s a fine deal.

 Some Metallica is blasting through his earbuds when JJ feels the bus shake a little. He’s lying on a creeper seat with his hands covered in grease, suspensors half through being fixed – all he can hope is that whoever needs him, doesn’t need him for long.

 JJ pushes himself out against the bottom of the bus. When the sun hits his eyes he shields them, and some of the grease drops onto his face – great.

 ‘Thought you said you’d be taking time off this weekend.’

 ‘You know me,’ says JJ, wiping his hands on his trousers before finally taking the earbuds out.  ‘Can’t let myself be without something to do.’

 Tommy is sitting on his toolbox, his trademark hoodie thrown over his head despite the relatively warm weather. He’s twirling a wrench in his hand. ‘What are you fixing?’

 JJ nods in the direction of a box with metal parts sticking out of it. ‘Suspensors. The back’s a bit bumpy.’

 ‘Doesn’t seem like a lot of work.’

 ‘There’s a few other things.’

 The silence that falls after Tommy’s nod isn’t unpleasant. Cars drive in the background and there’s distant chatter, all paired with a flicker of JJ’s zippo. He inhales the smoke from the cigarette and rolls his eyes at the trainer, who seems to refrain from saying anything.

 When JJ flicks off some of the burnt parts, he sighs. ‘It’s my only one in a week.’

 ‘As long as you’re preparing for the match.’ There’s a pause, then: ‘Which you are.’

 All JJ does in response is nod, blowing smoke through a small hole between his lips.

 Of course I’m preparing for the fucking match, he wants to say, but he’s learnt to keep his flame from setting everything on fire. It’s about my life. I’m not gambling it away.

 Half of the cigarette has burnt out and it tastes more bitter than he’s used to. He flicks it to the floor and stubs it out, then throws it out in the bin. Tommy gives him the slight raise of brows, but doesn’t comment.

 JJ sits down on the creeper. ‘What’s bringing you here?’

 ‘I know you’re still pissed about the Heyward match.’

 ‘I’m not.’ He pushes the creeper back until he’s pressed against the warm steel of the bus. ‘I got that sorted out, it’s in the past. All I’m thinking about is how to beat McLaggen.’

 (I did what I had to. It was the right thing to do. It was.)

 Tommy stares at him – his brow lowers over his eye, protruding and scrutinising. JJ holds his gaze, despite the chills rising up his spine at the feeling of being analysed. Tommy’s good at the psychological, even without the talking, and it’s not often that JJ is on the receiving end of it.

 I know you’re lying, says Tommy’s quiet sigh, and the little shake of his head before his face relaxes tells JJ, I know your head’s not as in it as it’s supposed to be.

 He doesn’t say any of that.

 ‘We’re starting boxing and MMA training right after that match’s over.’

 JJ frowns. ‘That’s too soon.’

 There’s another pause. Tommy’s hands bring the wrench to a still, before he throws it at the blond. ‘Nick told me about the ultimatum.’

 ‘The one he gave me or the one I responded with?’

 ‘Both. You’re playing with fire, and people are talking.’ Tommy’s voice is stern but the lines of his face are softer than usual; the tilt of his brow concerning rather than scolding. ‘I know you don’t pay attention to the press, but if word about this gets out, you could get some shitty comments your way.’

 Think about your reputation, is the underlying warning here, but JJ doesn’t quite give a fuck. Or at least he likes to think so – the reputation is what’s giving him matches and keeping the bookies on him. It’s yet another thing he can’t gamble with, despite consistently dancing on the edge of doing so.

 JJ sticks his hands into his pockets. He finds the Zippo, and wedges his finger between the cap and the body. ‘What are the consequences?’

 ‘Don’t fuck with me, Maybank. You know what I’m talking about.’

 Tommy glares at him with head tilted to the side, fingers running through his hair like it’s his own future JJ’s toying with.

 The moment is charged. JJ lets out a quivering sigh, giving his trainer a reluctant nod.

 It’s not his kickboxing reputation that’s on the line. If word gets out that he refuses matches and whatnot, he won’t be able to fight high-profile fighters upon his very entrance into the MMA and boxing worlds. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t give a damn, but he made a promise to Nick that he’s got to keep.

 (He knows it would’ve been easier to do the match he keeps refusing and never do boxing again. It just happens to be the one piece of his integrity JJ can’t compromise.)

 ‘Can I worry about that later?’

 ‘When’s later?’ asks Tommy. ‘After the McLaggen match, after securing your first boxing match, after fighting in the octagon?’

 ‘Whenever.’ JJ takes the Zippo out and lights it; he watches the flame dance until the gentle breeze blows it out. ‘Just not right now.’

 Tommy waits for a beat, and then he’s off the toolbox, standing in front of JJ with hands stuffed in pockets, with the sun shining behind his back. His face is half-shadowed by the contrast and the dominant energy reminds JJ of someone else who used to stand over him like that.

 He flinches, then lets the Zippo burn his finger a little until the pain brings him to the present.

 ‘Maybank.’ Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to another, teetering on the edge of whatever he’s about to say. ‘If there’s anything you want to talk about, there’s—’

 ‘There isn’t. And if there was, I don’t think it’d be you I’d come to.’

 It may be the sun’s optical illusion, but JJ thinks he sees a genuine smile in the corners of the man’s lips. ‘I was going to suggest Thawne. Or Barbas.’

 With a pat on JJ’s shoulder, Tommy declares this conversation over. He stays for a few more minutes, asking JJ about the suspensors and the other things he’s planning to do, even letting the boy show him how to fix some of the things he didn’t know. By the time Tommy leaves, JJ realises he’s gone from a sour mood to something where he can focus back on tinkering without feeling the weight on his chest that comes whenever the cursed bout is mentioned.

 JJ dunks himself under the bus again with a flashlight in his mouth, grabs a wrench, and gets back to work.

  ★

Jorge Barbas is, as per usual, late.

 JJ’s found himself a spot in the back of the dive bar, slumped in the seat as he glances over the place again, looking for something to divert his boredom. There’s a group of bikers a few tables away, loud and having fun, and maybe a few weeks ago JJ would’ve joined them, and share some of his own experiences from back when he travelled half the country on his bike. On the other side there’s a group of girls, two of whom keep looking over, and maybe a few weeks back JJ would’ve entertained that thought, too.

 The only conclusion JJ draws from this as he keeps on looking, is that in the past few weeks, he’s definitely lost some of what made him fun.

 The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He shoots Jorge another text and he gets a reply almost instantly, consisting of the usual: Got held up at Joanna’s. I’m on my way. Sorry! It makes JJ laugh – Jorge’s honest, at least, even that means admitting he’s late because he can’t resist his fiancee. It’s just as endearing as it is annoying, and JJ lets it slip.

 At least now he knows he’s got about ten more minutes to kill, if Jorge’s just left Joanna’s. That’s on top of the fifteen he’s already waited, and the one beer he’s finished, and…

 Boredom, like alcohol, drives a man to do things he otherwise wouldn’t.

 JJ googles Pope Heyward.

 It’s more of just clicking on the previous searches, if he’s being honest with himself, and he goes to the page that posts quality videos of Pope’s matches. The most recent one was a month ago, so about the same time as JJ’s. He opens the video and watches it, recognising Pope’s moves, analysing it as if it were another fighter, another opponent, and not someone he would’ve once upon a time taken a bullet for.

 (Has taken a bullet for. Not a physical one, but jail time and a fine at sixteen feel all the same.)

 Pope hits the guy with a messy, exhausted cross—not unlike he’d do to JJ when they would playfight—then steps back, and ends the match with a clean, powerful right jab straight into the nose. JJ feels a distant sense of pride swell in his chest – seeing the smile on Pope’s face when he realises the guy’s down, but walking over to make sure he’s doing okay, it makes him think that maybe not everything has changed.

 Then they zoom into Pope’s face, and JJ drops to the comments. Most of them are positive, some are critiquing Pope, and some are so blatantly pure hate and irritation that JJ finds himself wanting to argue with them – Pope’s doing a good job, he thinks, I’d know better than anyone.

 There’s a reason why Pope’s name is up there with the big guys. He’s still got quite a bit left to climb, but he’s as reputable in boxing as JJ is in kickboxing – considering the scales of each sport, Pope’s got it much better. He’s like a bull, steadfast and determined, where JJ is like a snake, quick and whimsical.

 It could’ve been a bout to watch.

 One of the bikers slams his beer on the table and JJ’s head snaps in his direction; it’s nothing, he tells himself, even if his body tenses. The girls on the other table are throwing concerned glances around the bar. Half-heartedly, he nods at the one who catches his eye, as if to say that he’s got this.

 Don’t worry, he thinks the look is saying, I’ve got this.

 His head’s ringing a little and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might break, but nothing comes of it. The bikers quieten down, and JJ’s attention is brought back to his phone when he sees what he’s accidentally clicked.

 Pope’s Instagram account is less… Pope, for the lack of a better expression, than he’d expected. The first few pictures are of him, some solo shots and others with his training team, matches, whatnot. JJ finds himself scrolling for a while to find a photo that feels even the slightest bit personal – there’s a photo of him with his parents for his dad’s 55th birthday nearly a year ago. Hardly any photos with friends, and none with—

 JJ clicks on a photo dated from September, 2018. Nearly two year and a half years ago. There’s Pope, sweaty after a match, with a belt for the lightweight category around his waist, and Kie at his side, arms wrapped around the boy. Her hair is flat there, too, but the smile on her face is just as JJ remembers it – open and welcoming, as if the entire world ought to smile, too.

 Pope’s embrace is firm. He looks ecstatic, happier than he’s ever looked from how JJ remembers him.

 JJ’s gaze remains on the picture for a moment, before he finds himself scrolling through the other pictures from the post. Another one of him and Kie, with his parents, too, this time; one of him and his entire team by his side; one of what must’ve been the afterparty. Pope looks nothing short of belonging there – Pope, who was the worst at parties because he always wanted to just smoke weed and talk about the most random things, and almost exclusively it would be just the Pogues entertaining him. Kie is in the frame, too, with a glass filled with champagne, the same wide smile taking over her entire face.

 Leaving was the best decision he could’ve made for them.

 His finger slips (or so he tells himself) and the account that opens is Kie’s. JJ closes the app within a heartbeat, putting his phone away.

 He can’t be doing this. He said it’s over. He called it all off, told himself he’d never meddle with their lives again, that what happened in Kildare stays in Kildare. He said what he said to make her not want to get in contact with him again. He said what he said because it was the last time he was going to talk to her. He said what he said because it was the only thing he never got to say.

 He can’t be doing… Whatever it is that he’s doing right now.

 (Ten years, he thinks. I’ve held out for ten years. Looking at her Instagram profile won’t change that.)

 So he looks around, checks that Jorge’s ten minutes are up and he still hasn’t showed up, and unlocks his phone.

 For a while, he scrolls. Kie’s profile feels more like the Kie he used to know than the one he met a few days ago – pictures of animals, travels, friends and family, Pope’s matches, and even some photos and videos of her trying to box, too. She radiates happiness, the genuine kind that he doesn’t think can be faked even on social media. She’s got herself the life she’s always wanted.

 This time, JJ doesn’t try to fight the happiness bubbling in his chest, or the smile reaching his cheeks. He clicks on a photo of Kie and an elephant, and the location is somewhere in Africa, dated from January. She’s got a tank top and cargo shorts on, with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and messy curls seeping out of it. There are photos where she’s polished, all prim and proper, but these are rarer. This seems like the person Kie is when the curtain is drawn and she gets to be herself.

 It only hurts because that means that the Kie who came to meet him wasn’t this Kie.

 (He’s kind of known that they were both coming guarded, putting up pretences of whatever they were trying to portray. She was just as closed off as he was, just as defensive, just as unwilling to show honest care. It was the PR manager Kiara Carrera, not his Kie from the island, even if she tried to make it seem different.

 He wasn’t the JJ from the island, either.)

 She’s happy. Pope’s happy. That’s all that matters.

 JJ can move on now.

 The infamously-late friend shows up shortly after that, with two beers in tow, and all’s forgiven. JJ’s entertained by a story about Jorge’s in-laws, who seem to be giving him hell even before he’s officially an in-law.

 ‘I won’t be late again,’ Jorge muses, index finger pointed up.

 JJ chuckles. He shakes his head and sips the beer, knowing he’s going to particularly enjoy alcohol tonight. ‘Famous last words.’

 ‘You’ll see.’

 ‘As long as you keep getting a round whenever you’re late, I’m down.’

 The two shake hands and Jorge gets JJ talking about the kids he’s training, about Elliott, about how Nick won’t get off his back, and his tongue loosens enough to talk about these things without feeling the weight of them. Jorge’s good helping people unwind, and JJ loves him for that.

 It ends up being like with Tommy – he’s worried about shit and then someone comes around and takes his mind off of it. By the third beer, he forgets Kiara Carrera or Pope Heyward even exist.

  ★

JJ comes home late. It’s nearing midnight, which isn’t all too late for a twenty-six year old bachelor living alone with no job to wake up for in the morning, but it’s late for him.

 He comes home late, and drunk.

 The door nearly kicks him in the face when he stumbles into the hallway, struggling to even find the light switch. He curses and teeters around, wanting to just plop into bed and forget about the headache he’s going to have in the morning. All he needs is to find a pen so he can write down the plans he made with Jorge, because sober him won’t remember.

 JJ sticks his hand into the drawer in the hallway cupboard and instead of a pen, his fingers grip an envelope.

 Intoxicated, pissed at the world for trying to throw his past at his face, he lets the universe—fate—win. He takes the envelope out of the drawer, not even wiping the dust it has gathered in all this time. His head is spinning a little so he steadies himself with the empty palm flat against the wall, letting the cold bring some sobriety into him.

 I need to turn on the heating if I’m planning on showering, he thinks as he sinks onto the windowsill. I need to put more coffee grounds in the coffee maker.

 In his hands, the letter feels as if it’s on fire. He throws it on the coffee table to prevent himself from getting burnt.

 Outside his apartment, the moon is barely there, and everything seems to be tinted an ugly shade of orange-yellow. Orange used to be JJ’s favourite colour – vibrant and joyful, a little out of the ordinary, but you can find it anywhere you look. Now, it feels like everything that made it vibrant has sucked all life and joy out of it, filling the gaping holes with rust that’s spreading like a virus, eating at everything that once was good.

 JJ Maybank spent ten years repressing the trauma of his childhood and adolescence. He spent ten years erasing everything his father had done, good and bad, in order to rewrite his own sense of self. He spent ten years learning who he is when he’s not bound by the shackles of being a Maybank.

 He fights under the name because he has chosen to reclaim it. To prove to himself that being a Maybank doesn’t guarantee being a good-for-nothing nobody.

 The letter on the table is the last thing that’s keeping him from letting go and knowing that pains him more than he’d ever admit.

 He sits on the couch with hands clasped in his lap, pushing at his nailbeds. The entire place is shrouded in darkness, even with the orange seeping through the window – it lands on the envelope like a curse, wrapping its repellent stench of rust over it. It’s almost as if the rust is coming from the inside, too – the merging of the evil.

 They’re as good as one.

 JJ’s head is ringing and he feels the pressure pushing on his ears, pushing him into himself, the sensation all too familiar; when does this end?

 You do as I say, echoes Luke Maybank’s voice. JJ’s teeth grip and he shuts his eyes close, to not see the envelope, to not see the rusty light, to not see the rust underneath a car that could fall on top of him, to not—

 JJ dives and grabs the letter. He doesn’t look at it until he’s sitting back in the chair, his heart is beating its way out of his chest, and he’s said to himself a thousand times that he can’t hurt him.

 It’s dated June 21, 2019. Almost two years ago.

 Luke Maybank always had a funny way of sending letters on the odd occasion he’d do it, writing down the date of sending it on the envelope. In case it gets lost, he said once JJ asked him about it, You can’t trust the fuckin’ post. They’re all scummy, stealin’ letters left and right.

 JJ couldn’t have been older than six, yet his father was already crass and blunt, with no regard for raising a child. He’d never meant to be a father in the first place, and it’s a fact that JJ could never fix.

 (He tried. He tried running away, doing whatever Luke asked, being whoever he wanted him to be, until he realised that he’d only be happy if JJ was dead.)

 His fingers glide across where the envelope has been closed, feeling the edge of the paper. A thick layer of dust remains on his finger. He thinks of his mind, of all the memories he must’ve buried to be able to not fall apart from the heaviness of his childhood, and wonders if there’s a layer of dust covering them, too.

 He’s afraid of what he’d find.

 In the end, JJ puts the letter back in the drawer, and sees himself to bed. There will be a day when he won’t feel like opening that letter would open everything he’d sealed away; when opening it won’t feel the same as lying underneath the guillotine with Luke Maybank holding the rope.

 Today, there is only a line without dust – a line uncovering his full name written in his father’s handwriting, and it looks like a curse.

  ★

  next chapter

[mydarlingfelix]

Get to know me tag(s)!

Tagged by: @hyunjinh  @felox-the-great @jaeffreyy @squishywoojin @welcometochanskitchen @dabkingfelix @mosquitofelix

Hi! I’m Summer btw (Ik it’s not in my bio), but I just go by Sum or other nicknames lol *I also just put multiple “get to know me” tags in 1 lol THIS IS A SUPER LONG POST IM SORRY However thank you for tagging me!! I Love you all soOoOo much!

Bold Thingy Tag

1ST RULE: tag 9 people you want to get to know better

I think everyone done this already fkjdjgb

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE: - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo -I have at least one piercing - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair (idk it’s growing) - My abs are at least somewhat defined - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY: - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY: - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory - I am good at doing maths in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES: - I enjoy sports - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month (Lucy wanted to be drawn for her bday and I did a watercolor portrait thing ig? for her) - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority- I do some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES: - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol- I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event- I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

MY LIFE: - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling (I have like 5)- I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS: - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity (?) - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship (not a healthy one at least)- I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily (It’s disgusting, wtf is wrong with me. I don’t need feels) - I have had a crush for over a year (Umm kinda he’s just really really cute. I talked to Dain about this before) - I have been in a relationship for over a year (but not currently) - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM: - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages - I have made a new friend in the past year

Alphabet Soup Tag

A: Age - “I’m 19, you fight me?” B: Birthplace - Cali C: Current time - As I’m during this 1:26pm D: Drink you had last - Water, but also Thai Tea Boba E: Easiest person to talk to - F: Favorite song - None G: Grossest memory - My cousin’s and I were doing a auntie and niece day and went theMall and I saw this girl throw up on the second floor in Forever 21. I felt sorry for the workers...  H: Hogwarts house - G I: in love? - nah, never gonna happen J: Jealous of people? - It’s only a human aspect, you’re only truly horrible if you do something nasty to others because of that feeling K: Killed someone? - Not yet lmfao L: Love at first sight or should I walk by again? - No thank you M: Middle name - Summer N: Number of siblings - 5 O: One wish - None P: Person you called last - My mom Q: Question you are always asked - Idk tbvh R: Reason to smile - Idk things make me happy S: Song you sang last - The Unit No way (I dont remember the unit colors)  T: Time you woke up - 6:43am  U: Underwear color - White  V: Vacation destination - South Korea, Japan, & idk the other one, but honestly my goal is to visit all my mutuals before I died lmfaooo W: Worst habit - Not caring, sleeping in, getting distracted easily, being anixious all the time.  X: X-rays - Teeth Y: Your favorite food - I have a lot... Z: Zodiac sign - Gemini

🥛 Colour(s) I’m currently wearing: Black... Just a lot of black (I need to stop wearing sm black omg)  🍥 Last band t-shirt I bought: I don’t ever buy clothes for myself, idk when was last time? Maybe during the Got7 concert?  🥛 Last band I saw live: Got7 (Fly In LA: Day 1) and Paradise (A Hmong Band)  🍥 Last song I listened to: Rn I’m listening to The Unit’s Cherry on Top  🥛 Lipstick or chapstick: Idk... I wear lip tints.  🍥 Last movie I watched: Ever Wonder? (idk it’s a true story about the creation of wonder women)  🥛 Last 3 TV shows I watched: Wanna One Go, Wanna One x Aimgo TV, and The Unit 🍥 Last 3 characters I identified with: Kora, Steven Universe, & Ken Kaneki (idk for this part, I never thought about this fkdfdkgd)  🥛 Book I’m currently reading: Books for my classes njfdkjd 

What’s my name? (Imma just put my initials) 

M. S. L.

What’s my nickname?

Sum, SumSum, SumShine, Summahh Girl, Tsumdere, Chee, 

How old am I?

“I’m 19, you fight me?”

What got me into Kpop?

SJ- Sorry Sorry, but Got7 made me offically stay and learning everything about the kpop fandom

What’s my favourite Kpop group?

Rn W1 (the most)

Who’s my ultimate bias?

Park Jihoon

What groups/artists do I stan?

Too many to count, you all can ask my personally if you want lol

What groups/artists do I casually listen to?

A lot, I try to be diverse, but what’s good music is good music to me. Feel free to suggest me some :D

What artists do I listen to that aren’t Kpop?

Ahh I’m lazy, but just good sounding music. Calvin Harris just popped up in my head. fknfkjskfnj 

Who’s my bias and bias wrecker from my ultimate group(s)?

Omfg

Wanna One: Park Jihoon & Kang Daniel

JBJ: Kim Donghan & ??? (They’re all messing me up rn)

SK: Felix & I think Hyunjin? Idk

What’s your favourite song(s) to sing/hum?

It’s recently been Chungha’s roller coaster lol and The Unit songs  

What are your favourite flower/tree/plant (all 3 or whatever you have an answer to)?

I really love plants and flowers in general, however Peonies are one of my many faves!! 

Favourite colour(s)?

Pink, blue, purple, black, white, and gray

What do you always doodle (if you ever do)?

Umm yeah I always doodling, but I try not to because I want to be able to focus in class haha. 

How do you take your coffee/tea? If you don’t like those what’s your fav warm drink?

It probably like 20% coffee and 80% french vanilla cream nfksjfgsbjg sometimes I add a lil milk too 

Favourite candle scent?

Anything flowery, but i really like sweet pea smell lol. I don’t any candles yet, so I don’t quite know which I like more yet. Soorrryy

Sunrise or Sunset?

Sunset! The colors are soo pretty and like it doesn’t require me to wake up from my sleep lmfao. The transitions of day and night it just so beautiful! and the stars that start peeking through the dark sky! 

What perfume do you wear if any?

I don’t wear perfume? I have them at home but in my opinion I feel like if you’ve showered and smell nice why try to mix more scents onto you?? and I don’t really need it? DONT WORRY I AM CLEAN NFJSNJF idk if I make any sense

What’s your go to dance move when you’re alone?

-

Favourite quote?

“The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.” ― Carl Sandburg 

&  “We ran as if to meet the moon.” ― Robert Frost  

& also 

“The moon and stars just for you my love” - Me lol 

Favourite self care thing(s) or routine(s)?

Umm... Drawing. Showering and putting a face mask afterwards. Painting my nails. It’s more like small things, especially like painting my nails and drawings are things I can’t do often because I try to focus on school, because ik I’m bad at focusing. Sleeping and reminding to just eat, when I get too busy and focused I tend to skip meals. njfkdsnfj s

Fuzzy socks or House slippers?

OMFG BOTH THAT’S LIKE THE BEST COMBO! I have these pinky and purple house slippers I got aND IT’S FUZZY KSFJ SK IT’S SOOO CUTE OMG!! I love. nfjdnfd 

What colour are your eyes? 

Dark Brown

What’s your favourite eye colour on others?

Hazel, black, and gray

Favourite season? why?

Autumn and Winter (Ik contradicts with my name) but I love the rain! and cloudy weather! The sound of rain is calming and being inside while hearing the rain is nice. I really love Spring too when the flowers begin to bloom and like it’s a fresh type of feeling when spring hits lol.

Cheek, neck or nose kisses?

SJFNKFS Honestly depends on my mood  (´•/// ω \\\•`) but I like cheek kisses because softtt

What does your happy place look like?

My room on a rainy day with my fairy lights flickering

Favourite breed of dog?

YO OKAY SO I SAW THIS FB POST ABOUT THIS DOG BEAR AND I WANT A DOG BEAR IDK WHAT THEY’RE CALLED JKFDFHKSF. My dad is a dog breeder as a side business, so I grew up with pitbulls, pocket pits, american bull dogs, frenches, and now ‘exotics’ are the trend atm. 

Do you ever want to be married? If so what colours would you pick for your wedding theme?

Umm yes and no? I’m not sure. If I have an American wedding I like to stick to a traditional white with maybe a peach and light pink here and there, but for sure I would love to do a traditional Hmong wedding. 

Silk or Lace?

Silk feels nice, but I like lace too :)

Favorite weather?

SF type of weather 

[supes9]

I have been tagged by @ravenwald; Thank you, Raven, I feel honored! : )

Rules: Tag 10 of your followers you want to get to know better

Name: Samantha

Nickname: Can I put more than one?; Sam, Sammie D (D is for my last name), Sammy Jo (Jo’s my middle name), Supes

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Libra

Height: 5′5″

Sexuality: Straight

Hogwarts House: I’m afraid I have no idea, but based on what Raven put, Hufflepuff sounds good to me. ; )

Favourite Animal: Dolphin

Average Hours of Sleep: Average hours of sleep, indeed. Well, because I never feel the need to go to bed in a timely fashion, it’s between 4 to 6 on weeknights, which then catches up with me over the weekend, where we then often double that number. ; )

Current Time: 12:43am (I’ve just made my point with the previous question, lol)

Dog or Cat Person: It was dogs, but now that my sister has 5 cats I’m an aunt to, I’m leaning more towards cats, but I love both pretty equally. My family had a yellow lab we lost a few years ago and he was the best! <3

Dream Trip: Ireland; my parents finally made the trip over there last year and I want to go someday too, looks beautiful!

Dream Job: I sort of already have it, because it’s being a video editor, but the real dream part of it would be to edit for something more fun like a TV show. Maybe we can both work for the same one, Raven... maybe Gotham...? ; )

When I made my blog: February 2017

Followers: 155, and bless them for thinking I’m worth following, haha!

Why I made a tumblr: I needed to share my love for nygmobblepot! I had found some nygmobblepot blogs that I was basically following before I even had one of my own, and then after the heartbreaking 3x14 episode, I finally decided to officially make one to share and help cope with the pain, lol! My love for nygmobblepot and Gotham still dominate my blog, with some other loves sprinkled in here and there. : )

Reasons for my URL: I wasn’t sure what to use here, so I just stuck with my Youtube username, which derived from my love for the man of steel, and Supes is short for Superman, and as stated above, one of my nicknames. Me and my close friends all have a certain superhero nickname because we’re just that cool. ; ) And one day I just decided that 9 was my favorite number, so that’s that. I really should have tried harder when I put this together, haha!

I’m not gonna specifically tag anyone,  I think most people have already done this one, but if you see mine and want to join in - tag, you’re it! ; )

[goldsteinsistersimagines]

No Turning Back

Prompt requested by anonymous: “Lie to me then”

Pairing: Queenie Goldstein x reader (modern au)

Warnings: slightly NSFW, swearing

A/N: This is so out of order but I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, sO...

“Queenie,” you giggled as the woman straddled you on the couch. “I have work to do.” 

“Stay,” the woman whispered in your ear and kissed down your neck. 

You moaned as your girlfriend kissed your collar bone. That was one of your weak spots. 

“Mmh... Five minutes.” 

Queenie smiled as she gently nibbled your neck. You placed a hand on her waist and tangled the fingers of your other hand in the woman’s hair. Your breathing quickly became shallow once Queenie started grinding her hips against yours. 

The blonde moved up to kiss you and you kissed her back passionately. You slightly turned your body, but it ended up in you losing your balance and falling off the couch and onto the rug, Queenie on top of you. The two of you laughed, and the blonde leaned down to continue what had been interrupted. 

You woke up on the ground and looked to your right, seeing Queenie sleeping beside you. You took your phone off the table to check the time. 12:43am. 

“Shit,” you muttered, getting up quickly and putting on your clothes. You groaned as you put your shirt on, feeling the new scratch marks Queenie had left on your back. You went to the bedroom to grab a blanket and draped it over Queenie before heading to your desk and turning on your computer. You ran a hand through your hair as you stressed over a deadline. 

You were supposed to present in front a group of board members tomorrow, and though you had the content down, you still hadn’t come up with a worthy presentation. This was one of the most important moments of your career. If you did well, you would travel to Australia with some of the higher ups to collaborate with an affiliated company. This had to be perfect. 

Queenie had gotten up so quietly that you hadn’t even heard her. When she wrapped her arms around you from behind, it made you jolt. You sighed a sigh of relief and your girlfriend giggled at your reaction. You put your hand on hers and you continued to work with your other hand. 

“How much longer are you going to be working on this?” The blonde asked.

“I don’t know. I just have to get this done,” you answered. 

“Well I’m going to bed.” The woman kissed you on the top of your head. “Try not to stay up too late.” 

“I’ll try,” you reassured. Queenie slipped away and you continued to work through the night. By the time you were finished, it was a little after 4 am. You could get three hours of sleep. You turned off your computer and walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When you were done, you tiptoed into the bedroom and carefully slid in bed next to Queenie, trying not to wake her. After you set the alarm on your phone, you breathed out as you relaxed under the covers and drifted to sleep. 

Your alarm woke you up while you were in the middle of a dream, and you shut it off crankily. You sat up in bed, your eyes still closed, wishing you could stay in bed all day with Queenie. But today was the big day, there would be no rest until after. 

‘At least it’s Friday,’ you thought to yourself. You started getting ready for the day. You prepared everything you needed for the day and double-checked to make sure everything was in place. 

Before you left for work, you went back to the bedroom and kissed a sleepy Queenie goodbye. She wouldn’t have to get up for work for another hour or so after you left. 

You were nervous for your pitch, but you felt confident that your presentation was well put together and properly conveyed what you wanted the board members to get out of it. 

All your hard work had paid off, as you were offered the opportunity to go to Austraila. You graciously took it, and you couldn’t wait to tell Queenie about it once you got home. 

“Babe?” You called out into the apartment as you stepped inside. 

“Bedroom!” Queenie called. You walked to the bedroom and saw Queenie sitting on the bed, reading a book. You sat on the edge of the bed and beamed. 

“What?” The blonde giggled. 

“I got the offer,” you said. 

Your girlfriend’s eyes widened. “You got the offer? Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!’ She pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you!” 

“I leave in a month,” you informed. You were more hesitant to mention the next part. “I’ll be gone for four months.” 

Queenie pulled away from the hug. “Four months?” 

You nodded. The blonde looked down, and you knew she wasn’t okay with it. 

You put a hand on her shoulder. “Queenie? I won’t take the job if you don’t want me to.” 

The woman shook her head. “No, you’ve been working hard for this. You should go.” She turned to you and took your hands. “I just didn’t think you would have to leave so soon.” 

“Well, I still have a month. We’ll do whatever you want. I want you to know that I’m committed to making this work.” 

Queenie nodded. “I’m real happy for you, honey.” 

You smiled. “I love you.” You leaned in for a kiss. 

“I love you, too.” Queenie met you in the middle for the kiss. 

When the day came for you to leave, you went through your packing list with Queenie, making sure you had everything with you. Queenie drove you to the airport. Before you left, the two of you shared a kiss. You walked through the airport doors and didn’t dare turn back, for fear you would never leave. 

Once you landed in Australia, you messaged Queenie. 7 pm in Australia meant 9 am in New York, so you figured she would be awake by now. 

“Landed in Sydney... Miss you already.” You wrote. 

Within minutes, you received Queenie’s message: “Great! Have a wonderful day! <3″

You smiled as you put your phone in your pocket and started heading out of the airport with your colleagues. 

“Leah Anderson, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She was the most promising candidate in our PR department, so we chose her to come here.”

The two of you shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). I look forward to working with you. As you know, this project is very near and dear to our hearts and it’s important that we have someone so knowledgeable so we can communicate to our consumers in the proper way.” 

“Of course. The pleasure is all mine,” you responded. The brunette woman smiled, and you noticed her intense green eyes. Her presence was somewhat intimidating, but you always thought of that as a challenge to get to know the person better. 

You Skyped Queenie every weekend, catching each other up on the little things you may have missed. It was difficult, since all you wanted to do was to be there in person to hold your girlfriend. 

One morning when you Skyped your girlfriend, you noticed her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” the woman dismissed. 

You gave her a skeptical look. “Doesn’t look like it was nothing.” 

“It’s just hard, you know?” The blonde gave a small laugh before she started crying again. “You’re so far away. I miss you.” 

You couldn’t help but tear up a little. “I miss you, too. Only 74 days and 3 hours,” you said meekly. You saw a small smile appear on Queenie’s face. You wished you could go through the screen and hug her.

You talked to Queenie for a while longer when you heard a knock on your door.

“Hang on, babe.” You went to go answer the door. It was Leah. “Oh.... Hey,” you greeted. 

The woman looked in the room and saw you were video chatting with someone. “Oh, um... Am I interrupting something?” 

“No, no. I was just talking to my girlfriend...” You trailed off. 

“Well, some of us were going to get breakfast if you wanted to come. Feel free to join us whenever you’d like!”

“Thanks,” you said. The woman nodded and walked down the hall.  You closed the door and walked back to your desk. 

“Who was that?” Queenie inquired, trying to hide the jealousy in her voice. 

“She’s someone I’m working with for this project. Her name is Leah.” 

“I see.” The two of you sat in silence for a bit. “Well, I should let you go. You need to eat and I need to sleep.” The woman gave a small smile. 

“Okay. Goodnight, Queenie.”

“Goodnight,” The woman said. Her tone wasn’t quite as perky as she usually was. 

“Alright, I’ve set up the new webpage. What do you think?” You asked Leah. 

The woman leaned over your shoulder, her long hair tickling your cheek. “I think it looks great. Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“No problem.” 

The woman scrolled through the page. “This is such a huge step for us. I can’t thank you enough.” The brunette put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Uh... Sure thing.” You scooted your chair back and cleared your throat. “Well, it was nice working with you, Miss Anderson. I think I should get back to my own office now.” 

Leah nodded. “Of course.” 

When you left the room, you were unaware of how the other woman was eyeing you. 

You turned on your computer in the morning and opened up Skype, ready to talk to Queenie. 

No answer. 

“Skype?” You messaged your girlfriend. 

“Sorry, out with Tina and friends tonight.” You let out a sigh. You hadn’t been able to video chat with Queenie in a few weeks because both of you were always busy with something. 

“33 days to go,” you told yourself. 

After work, you saw Leah walking alone. You decided to approach her. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, (Y/N).”

You wrung your hands. “Look, I know I haven’t been very social, but I was hoping to change that. Would you want to go out to dinner? I don’t know many of the local places and I thought maybe you could show me...” 

The woman smiled. “Of course. Do you mind if you meet me at my place? I kind of want to shower first.”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“Great, I’ll text you the address.”

You knocked on the apartment door. When Leah opened the door, you noticed her hair was still wet. 

“Oh, (Y/N)! I’m still getting ready, but come on in. You can sit on the couch if you want.” 

“Oh, thanks.” You stepped inside the apartment and noticed how clean the place was. Leah headed back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. You looked at the paintings that hung on the walls while you waited. One of which drew your attention. When you looked at the signature on the painting, you noticed it was Leah’s. 

You heard a pair of footsteps behind you and you turned around. 

“How do I look?” The woman posed in her navy dress.

“Now I just feel under-dressed,” you joked.

“Oh, nonsense, you look wonderful.” 

You could feel yourself blush. 

“I see you were looking at my painting,” Leah noted as the two of you started walking out of her apartment.

“Oh, yeah. I’m impressed by how professional it looks,” you commented. 

“Painting has always been a hobby of mine.” The woman locked the door and the two of you kept walking down the hall. 

“But never a career option?” 

“Well, I’m sure you’re smart enough to know that artists don’t get the credit they deserve. Besides, I had a destiny to take over my family’s company. Painting in my free time is just a way I express myself.” 

“But if you could choose, would you still choose to be a businesswoman?” You asked. 

“Yes.” The woman looked at you. “I’ve always been naturally inclined to lead. And I’m good at getting what I want.”

“It’s like you were bred to lead a business,” you remarked. 

Leah chuckled. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.” 

“So, tell me. How do you like it in Australia?” Leah had her full attention on you.

“It’s pretty awesome.” You laughed. “I mean I miss my friends and family back home, but... This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 

“You certainly worked hard to get here.” 

“Yeah,” you said. Your mind drifted as you thought about Queenie. You were finally doing what you wanted to do, but in the process of doing that, you were now almost 10,000 miles apart from her. 

‘23 days,’ a voice echoed in your mind. 

“Hey, you okay?” Leah reached over the table and put her hand on top of yours.

“Uh... Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about some stuff.” 

At that moment, the waiter had arrived. “Are you two ready to order?”

The two of you nodded at each other in agreement. 

“I think we are,” Leah replied. The two of you placed your order. 

“Could I interest you ladies in a bottle of wine tonight?” 

Leah tilted her head, silently asking if you were interested. 

“Um... Sure,” You answered. You picked one off the menu. 

“Alright, I’ll have your orders in soon. I’ll be back in a few with your wine.” 

The two of you thanked the waiter as he left. 

As the night dragged on, you got to know Leah a little better and the two of you shared some laughs. It had been a while since you had laughed this much. 

After dinner, the two of you walked around the area for a little bit. 

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come back to my place and enjoy a few more drinks? I make a mean sidecar,” Leah suggested. You were already feeling a little tipsy. You probably should have said no. 

“Sure.” 

“Okay, try this.” The woman had just finished mixing the drink and poured both you and herself a glass. You took a sip.

“This is your rendition of a sidecar?” 

“What do you think?” The brunette asked. 

“It’s interesting...” 

Leah pretended to look offended as you took another sip. 

“Okay, it’s actually really good.” You laughed. 

The two of you had more to drink in the next couple of hours. 

“No, I’m serious. Think about it, our galaxy is huge. I mean there’s absolutely no way our dimension is the only one,” you told the brunette. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” The woman laughed. You noticed Leah was leaning in a little closer now. “So what do you think alternate universe you is doing?” 

“I dunno. Probably having fun doing whatever she wants to do.”

“Can’t you do that in this dimension?” Leah whispered, her facial expression changing. 

You felt her soft breaths on your face as she leaned in closer. Soon, the woman closed the gap and pulled you into a kiss. You heard the woman moan, and it drove you crazy. You slid the straps of her dress down and started kissing her shoulder. Leah helped by reaching back and unzipping her dress. She briefly pulled away to stand up and slip out of it. When she came back, it was her turn to help you out of your clothes. 

You knew it was wrong. But you couldn’t seem to find a reason to stop. It felt so good to be this close to someone, something you hadn’t felt in a while. You wanted this. You needed this. You couldn’t turn back.

You woke up to the sound of a knock on your door. Leah turned over and you remembered she stayed over last night. 

“Mmh, I don’t wanna get it,” you said sleepily. You looked at the brunette with puppy eyes. “Could you do it?” 

The woman laughed and started to get up. “Fine. But just so you know, this is your apartment.” You stuck out your tongue and watched Leah put on a robe. 

When Leah opened the door, she noticed a blonde woman standing in the hallway. 

“Yes?” The brunette asked. 

“Oh... I’m sorry, I must have the wrong apartment.” 

You jolted out of bed as you recognized the voice. Queenie.

‘Shit.’ 

“Who are you looking for? Maybe I could help you,” Leah suggested. 

“I’m looking for (Y/N)?” 

The brunette paled as she heard your name. “(Y/N)?” 

“I’m her girlfriend.” 

‘Fuck.’ 

You had never mentioned a girlfriend to Leah, and now she was rightfully upset. 

“I think you better come in,” the woman said solemnly. 

Queenie looked at the brunette curiously, but when she stepped inside, she saw you. You couldn’t look her in the eye. 

“(Y/N)...?” Queenie’s voice faltered. 

“I... Hey, Queenie.” 

Leah walked up to you. “I better go.” She went up to Queenie. “I’m so sorry.” The woman left the apartment, leaving just you and Queenie to talk. 

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you said. 

“Were you not going to sleep with someone if you knew I was coming?” The woman asked softly. 

“N-no, I-”

“How long?” Queenie asked. 

“Queenie...” 

“How long?” The woman repeated, this time more forceful. 

You shook your head. “I couldn’t answer that.” 

“Why?” You saw tears falling down the woman’s face and your heart broke. You did this to her. 

“Because...” Your voice cracked. “Because it hurts to tell the truth.” 

“Lie to me then,” the woman said. “Please. Just give me an answer.” 

“I... I haven’t been cheating on you for the past month.” You looked down, ashamed of yourself. 

Queenie’s lip quivered and she shook her head, unable to believe this. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

And soon after, you felt a slap against your face. Queenie took her belongings and started heading out the door. 

“Queenie, wait!” You grabbed the woman’s arm. 

“Let go of me!” She pushed you off. 

“Please!” You cried. “Please don’t go.” Your voice broke. 

“How could you do this?” The woman shouted. She was shaking, trying to hold herself together. “I came all the way to see you because I missed you. And you... You...” Queenie shook her head and stormed out of the apartment. 

“Queenie!” You shouted. 

She didn’t stop. 

“Queenie!” You screamed. You fell to the floor and started to sob. She was gone. You made a mistake you couldn’t take back. And you were going to regret it for the rest of your life. 

When you came back to New York, you didn’t know where to go. So you went to the office, where you spent the night for a few days until a friend offered to let you stay with her for a while. A few months later, and you moved in to your new apartment. 

Work became your only priority. You started working over time, and some days you wouldn’t go back to your apartment. There didn’t seem to be a point. It didn’t feel like home. You missed Queenie terribly, but you knew the consequences of your irrevocable mistake. Your heart ached whenever you thought of her; the pain you caused her. 

Sometimes, you dreamt about her. You would dream of holding her close to you or dancing with her like you used to. And when you woke up, you cried because the reality was so much harder to face. 

Seven years later, and you were named CEO of the company you worked for. Your speech as the new CEO was on the news. 

Queenie changed the channel when she saw your face, and she faltered as she watched you speak in front of hundred of people. You looked pretty much the same, if not more tired than you used to be. She wondered if you still went to bed late at night, stressing over a project or business proposition. She remembered how she constantly had to remind you to go to bed at a normal hour. She smiled at the times when it was her fault you didn’t go to bed on time. 

“What are you watching?” A woman sat on the couch next to Queenie and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Just the news. I thought I saw someone I knew,” the blonde lied. Queenie changed the channel, her thoughts of you slowly fading away as she focused back on this moment. She was happy. And despite everything that had happened, she hoped you were happy, too.