#it’s absolute bullshit I can’t even be excited for him anymore :/

[petrichorium]

I was so hype abt boothill but nothing has taken the wind out of my sails like the bullshit that’s happening w firefly and how they’re nerfing all the stuff that works for him to make her look better :/

[cosmiclily]

hii - jst wanted to say girl Ur writing is *chef's kiss* okok so i saw requests were open and im a SUCKER for actors au arcane soooo could u write a actor vi x co star!fem reader?? could it be a lil not like enemies but at first their energies don't match, but they soon learn to like eachother. on the premiere they were seen together and get asked questions abt eachother. vi keeps her hand on co star's waist whispering in her ear. idkkk jst some fluff plsss

- btw i was the anon who asked for the domestic vi teehee 🤭

love your work, xx

play pretend

✰ vi x f!reader

wc: 6.2k

notes: (snoopy pfp twins!!!) first of all, thank you !!!!!! and also your requests are so good i always have fun writing them😭😭 second, kinda got a little too excited about the request lol

If anyone watched Complex without doing any prior research, they would undoubtedly say that you and Vi had undeniable chemistry. The tension, the longing glances, the way you played off each other—it was electric. So electric that after the movie was released, the audience wanted more and more from the two of you.

But off-screen? Things weren’t nearly as perfect.

At first, Vi had been thrilled to work with you. She had been a fan for years, and when her manager called her about the role—and, more importantly, who she’d be working with—she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She had pictured smooth sailing, late-night script reads, inside jokes, maybe even the start of a great friendship.

What she hadn’t pictured was the absolute nightmare that was your first meeting.

You were thirty minutes late to the chemistry read, walking in with a sour expression and barely sparing her a glance. No pleasantries, no introductions—you simply read your lines (flawlessly, of course), nodded at the director, and walked right back out. Vi had sat there, script still in hand, completely thrown.

Things did not get better from there.

The two of you bickered about everything. Blocking, line delivery, even what music should play between takes. It was like you had been designed to push each other’s buttons.

And then there was the first kiss rehearsal.

Vi, in all her brilliance, had eaten a tuna sandwich right before the scene.

The second you leaned in and caught the scent, you recoiled so fast you nearly toppled over. "Are you serious?!" you had shouted, fanning your face as if that would somehow make the stench disappear.

Vi? She had lost it.

She laughed so hard she had to physically hold onto the set piece to keep herself upright. It took a full ten minutes and an entire pack of breath mints for you to even consider going through with the scene.

But as much as you bickered, there was no denying it—the chemistry was off the charts. The moment the cameras started rolling and you weren’t Y/N and Vi anymore, something clicked. Suddenly, you were two best friends hopelessly in love, bound by circumstances that would never allow them to be together. It was raw, it was emotional, and it was so frustrating for the director.

"Cut!" Frank shouted, exasperation dripping from his voice. As soon as the word left his mouth, you immediately stepped away from Vi, your longing expression vanishing like it had never been there.

"You delivered your last line too late," you huffed, flipping through your script. "The silence was awkward."

Vi rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "It’s called dramatic tension. Like my character is hesitating before saying it. You don’t know art."

You scoffed. "That’s bullshit."

"Oh my god," Frank groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can’t the two of you just stop?"

Both of you turned to face him, blinking as if you hadn’t just spent the last five minutes arguing.

"If I hadn’t sunk so much goddamn money into this movie," he continued, his face red with frustration, "and if your chemistry on screen wasn’t so damn perfect, I would’ve fired you both by now! This is insane! You can’t go three seconds without fighting!"

You and Vi exchanged a glance—one that probably lasted all of two seconds before she smirked and you scoffed again.

This was going to be a long shoot.

Later, after finally wrapping for the day, you were in your dressing room, peeling off your character’s persona and replacing it with your own. You had just finished touching up your lipstick in the bright vanity mirror when your manager, Mel, stormed in—her expression immediately telling you she did not bring good news.

"Frank is fuming," she announced, crossing her arms. "Livid. He says you're a brat who thinks she runs the set, and that Vi has the humor of a twelve-year-old boy."

You let out a small snort, not even bothering to look at her. "Well, he’s not wrong about Vi."

Mel shot you a glare. "What the hell are you two doing? How are you supposed to promote this movie when you can’t even be in the same room for five minutes without arguing?"

You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you fixed a stray hair. "Well, if she wasn’t so damn stubborn and stupid, I wouldn’t have a problem with her."

Mel groaned, rubbing her temples as if you were single-handedly giving her a migraine. "You know what? That’s it. I was talking to Vander, and he agreed—the two of you need figure this thing out, go out together or something."

That caught your attention. You turned to her, brows furrowing. "Go out together? Like what? A forced bonding exercise?"

"Yes, exactly," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you. "And don’t look at me like that. I wanted to lock you two in a room for the entire weekend, but Vander thought “hanging out” was a better option."

Your lips parted slightly in disbelief. "That was your suggestion?"

Mel shrugged. "It would've worked."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "What exactly are we supposed to do together?"

Mel smirked. "That’s for you and Vi to figure out."

Mel had given you Vi’s number—which you didn’t have after working with her for more than a month—and told you to text her. She even threatened to call your mom if you didn’t, which, honestly, was a low blow.

Naturally, you did not text Vi.

By the time you got home, showered, and settled into bed with a book you’d been dying to read, you were so ready to ignore the outside world for the next three hours. But, of course, your phone pinged with a notification from an unknown number.

(Unknown Number)

hey

(it’s vi by the way)

vander said i have to text you and we have to go out together ?

You sighed, rolling onto your back before lazily typing out a response.

You:

yeah, mel said the exact same thing to me. not that i’m too excited about it.

Violet Lane:

i know you hate me and stuff, but if we could just get this over with it would be better lol

You frowned.

You:

?

i don’t hate you?

Violet Lane:

you don’t like me either

anyway, we can just go to a restaurant or something, talk this over and “bond” (or whatever)

You stared at your screen for a moment, chewing on your lip. Did Vi really think you hated her? Sure, you bickered—a lot—but that was just how you two were. You pushed, she pushed back. It was an endless back and forth, but hate? That was a strong word.

You hesitated before typing.

You:

fine. tomorrow at 7?

Violet Lane:

cool. see you then.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto your nightstand and staring at the ceiling.

Yeah. This was either going to be a complete disaster or the longest two hours of your life.

──────────────────────

At 6:35 p.m., you were already ready—probably too ready. You had checked and rechecked your outfit, adjusted your hair at least five times, and debated whether your makeup was too casual or too much.

Your stomach was tight with nerves, anxiety creeping up for no reason at all. It was just dinner. Just a casual outing with a coworker who thought you hated her (and who, admittedly, got on your nerves more often than not). You were only doing this because Mel and Vander had threatened you into it.

Still, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the time on your phone like it would magically change.

Should I text her?

Would that be weird?

Would it be even weirder if I just showed up at the restaurant early?

Before you could second-guess yourself, you opened your messages.

You:

i know i said 7, but i finished the things i had to do earlier, so i’m ready. do you wanna meet there or go together?

(Lie. You had absolutely nothing to do today—but Vi didn’t need to know that.)

A response came quickly.

Violet Lane:

i can pick you up, if you want. i’m ready as well.

You blinked. That was… unexpectedly nice of her.

You:

k

[your address]

As soon as you sent it, you tossed your phone onto the couch and exhaled, running a hand through your hair.

Okay. No big deal. You were just getting dinner.

Then why the hell did it feel like you were about to go on a date?

──────────────────────

Vi picked you up, and the drive to the restaurant was… painfully awkward. You slid into the passenger seat, muttered a quiet hey, and she responded with a nod and a simple hey back. And then… nothing.

No music. No conversation. Just the sound of the road beneath the tires and the occasional glance exchanged between you two.

At the restaurant, things weren’t much better. You placed your orders, handed the menus back to the waitress, and then sat there—staring at each other like you were both waiting for the other person to break the silence.

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly in your seat. This is ridiculous.

“Soo…” you started, grasping for anything remotely close to small talk. “Anything good happening these days?”

Vi shrugged, leaning back against her chair. “Nah. Just working, you know.”

Riveting.

“Right. Of course.” You nodded “Me too.”

Another pause.

You took a sip of your drink. Vi did the same.

This was painful.

You were supposed to be bonding, fixing the weird tension between you, but so far, it felt like the two of you were just tolerating each other's presence.

Vi exhaled through her nose, drumming her fingers against the table. “Okay, this is weird, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, so weird.”

Vi cracked a small grin, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s just—be normal. For once.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For once?”

“You did spend the first two weeks acting like I personally offended your ancestors.”

Your mouth dropped open. “I did not!”

Vi shot you a knowing look.

“…Okay, maybe I wasn’t the most welcoming.” You rolled your eyes. “But you were annoying as hell.”

Vi smirked. “Still am.”

“Unfortunately.”

And from then on, you actually talked.

Your food arrived, and for the first time since you started working together, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about why you got into acting, your dream roles, the best and worst people you’d worked with, the projects you would never do, and the actors you’d always wanted to work with.

“Well, I always wanted to work with you.” Vi’s voice was softer now, a little hesitant, as she cut into her steak.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, avoiding your eyes as if embarrassed to admit it. “One of the reasons I took this role was because your name was already on it.”

That was… surprising. Vi, who you were sure couldn’t stand you, had actually wanted to work with you?

“I always admired your work,” she added, still not quite meeting your gaze. “Your performances always felt so real—like you weren’t just acting, you were that person. I thought, ‘damn, if I ever get the chance to work with her, I have to take it.’”

For a moment, you just stared at her, unsure how to respond. This was the same Vi who had laughed for ten minutes over a tuna sandwich before your first kiss rehearsal. The same Vi who had argued with you over every minor detail on set. The same Vi who, up until an hour ago, you were convinced didn’t even like you.

And yet, here she was, admitting that she’d taken this role, in part, because of you.

You swallowed, setting your fork down. “I—wow. I didn’t know that.”

Vi finally glanced up, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. “Well… now you do.”

And maybe—just maybe—you could actually make this work.

──────────────────────

After that dinner, work became bearable.

Frank no longer looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown every time you and Vi were in the same room. You still bickered, but now it was more playful than anything—teasing quips, exaggerated eye rolls, and smirks exchanged between takes.

And, to your absolute horror, you actually laughed at one of her jokes.

“I can’t believe my eyes!” Vi exclaimed dramatically, pointing at you like you were a rare species on display. “She’s actually laughing at my joke! Somebody get a camera, this is a historic moment!”

“Shut up!” you said between chuckles, trying (and failing) to regain your composure.

After that, things just… shifted.

Vi started bringing you coffee in the mornings—because apparently, she noticed that your usual sour mood could be fixed with a large caramel macchiato. She never said anything about it, just handed you the cup with a smirk like it was no big deal.

And maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it also wasn’t a big deal that you’d started looking forward to seeing her face every morning. Or that you caught yourself glancing at her between takes, watching the way she effortlessly charmed the crew with her stupid jokes and easygoing attitude.

It was not a big deal.

Until one of your last scenes together.

Vi’s character was leaving. It was an emotional scene—there were tears, there was rain, there was heartbreak. The two of you stood on a dimly lit train platform, the cold air thick with tension, with unsaid words.

And then you ran to her, your shoes splashing against the wet pavement as you grabbed her arm, desperation spilling from your lips.

“You can’t leave me in this town,” you pleaded, breathless, water dripping from your soaked hair. “It’s not fair. They can’t make you do this!”

Vi turned to you, her face half-lit by the flickering station lights, raindrops clinging to her lashes. “It’s not their choice,” she said, voice unsteady, tears mixing with the artificial rain. “I want to leave.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “I can’t keep living this lie. I can’t be myself here.”

Your breath hitched. You shook your head, your hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her soaked jacket. “Please,” you sobbed, the cold making you shake, but not nearly as much as the emotions clawing their way out of you. “I—I love you.”

The words came out like a confession, like a wound torn open.

And for a moment—just a moment—you weren’t sure if the silence between you was scripted or not.

Vi’s eyes locked onto yours, her breath shallow, her lips parted slightly. You could hear the rain hitting the pavement, the distant sound of a train horn echoing through the empty station.

Then, she kissed you.

You had kissed before. Countless times, in countless takes. But this? This was different.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you in, grounding you in the middle of the storm. One of them trailed up, fingertips ghosting along your skin before settling at the back of your neck, holding you like you were something fragile.

You melted into her, fingers curling into the damp fabric of her shirt, letting yourself sink into the warmth of her despite the freezing rain.

And then, just as suddenly, she pulled away—her breath ragged, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you too,” she said, softer than she should have. “But not enough to stay.”

And just like that, she was gone.

She turned, stepping onto the train, leaving you standing on that rain-soaked platform, crumbling from the inside out.

When Frank called cut, the entire set fell into stunned silence.

No one moved. No one spoke. The only sound was the steady patter of artificial rain against the pavement, mixing with the remnants of your ragged breathing.

Then, as if snapping out of a trance, crew members rushed forward, wrapping warm towels around your trembling frame, fussing over you, making sure you weren’t too cold.

But none of it registered.

Because your eyes were still on her.

Vi stood a few feet away, drenched, her chest still rising and falling from the weight of the scene. Strands of wet hair clung to her forehead, rain trailing down the curve of her jaw, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. She just looked at you.

It was a silent conversation, one you weren’t sure you understood.

And then, just like that, someone called her name, and the moment was gone.

──────────────────────

After wrapping up filming and sending the movie into post-production, you and Vi barely kept in contact.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Life simply got busy. You had new projects to consider, meetings to attend, scripts to read. You were thrown back into the chaotic whirlwind of the industry, and Vi… well, Vi had her own life.

But that didn’t stop the weird feeling in your chest. The absence of her was something you noticed, in ways you didn’t expect.

Her face wasn’t the first thing you saw when you walked on set every morning, You no longer groggily accept the caramel macchiato she always brought you with that smug little smirk. You didn’t hear her humming on set, or listen to her dumb jokes between takes.

The worst part? You caught yourself missing it.

You missed the way she’d argue with you over the most insignificant things, how her eyes would light up whenever she got you to crack a smile, how easy it had become to just be around her.

And maybe that was why, after a month of telling yourself you were too busy to reach out, you found yourself sitting in Mel’s office, trying—and failing—to make it sound like you weren’t fishing for an excuse.

“Have you heard from Frank?” you asked, leaning casually against her desk, as if this were just a passing thought.

Mel didn’t even look up from the magazine she was reading—the one that featured an interview you had given a few weeks ago. “About?”

“Post-production for Complex,” you said, picking at the edge of a business card on her desk. “We must be starting promotions soon, right?”

That finally made her glance up, one perfectly arched brow raising as she studied you. The sharp gold liner on her eyelids made her green eyes look even more piercing.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to talk to her, right?”

Your hand froze mid-pick.

You let out a nervous laugh. “What do you mean by that? I’m asking about the movie.”

“Uh-huh.” Mel’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she lazily flipped another page. “Everything’s on track. Frank said you should hear about it soon. The movie trailer should be out in a week or two.”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. That was good. That meant press tours, interviews, red carpets—things that would inevitably bring you and Vi back into each other’s orbit.

You should have been focusing on that.

But all you could think about was your phone, sitting in your pocket. And the fact that nothing was stopping you from pulling it out, scrolling to her name, and just—

You swallowed, pushing the thought away.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

──────────────────────

After the movie trailer was released, you filmed a couple of interviews, and suddenly, it felt like you were whole again.

Vi’s presence was there—her lazy smirk, the sarcasm wrapped in dry humor, the way she’d nudge you under the table just to see if she could get a reaction.

It was like nothing had changed.

Like you hadn’t spent weeks pretending you weren’t waiting for a message from her. Like you hadn’t caught yourself missing her laugh in the middle of a quiet afternoon. Like there wasn’t something undeniably different lingering between you, hidden beneath the playful banter and easy rhythm you fell back into so effortlessly.

But it was different.

Because now, every stolen glance lasted a second too long. Every brush of her fingers against yours felt intentional. And every time she looked at you—really looked at you—you swore you could still feel the ghost of that last kiss, the way her hands had held you like she was afraid to let go.

And you didn’t know if you were imagining it, if you were just hoping for something more than what it really was, if you were being downright delusional.

But if it meant she would be around you for longer, you would be the most delusional person in the world.

“Earth to Y/N.” Vi’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you blinked rapidly, turning to face her. She was looking at you with a knowing smirk, her elbow propped on the armrest between you. “You good over there? Looked like you were having a moment or something.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “Just thinking about how much I regret agreeing to this interview with you.”

Vi gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “And here I was, so excited to see you again.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

The interviewer, who had been watching your interaction with amusement, cleared her throat. “It’s clear you two have amazing chemistry, both on-screen and off. Was it always like this during filming?”

Vi grinned, glancing at you. “Oh, absolutely not. Y/N hated me at first.”

You groaned. “I did not hate you!”

“She totally did.” Vi turned back to the interviewer, ignoring your protests. “She was all serious and broody, barely talked to me for the first couple of weeks. But then I broke her.” She smirked, tilting her head toward you. “Didn’t I?”

You gave her a flat look, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “You wish.”

The interviewer laughed. “Well, whatever the process was, it clearly worked, because your performances in Complex are incredible.”

Vi nodded. “What can I say? We’re just that good.”

And maybe she was right. Maybe this—whatever this was—was just the natural result of spending so much time together. Of playing two people desperately in love.

But then Vi glanced at you again, her expression softer this time, her arm brushing against yours on the armrest.

And suddenly, you weren’t so sure.

The next interviews were all like that—her lingering touches, the way her fingers would find the small of your back when she guided you through a crowd, the way she’d stare at you like you were the only person in the room.

It was weird. Even for Vi.

Sure, you were both actors, but she couldn’t be acting all of it. Not when her hand rested on your waist a second longer than necessary. Not when she looked at you like she was memorizing your face.

And yet, you kept telling yourself you were imagining things.

Until one particular interview made it impossible to ignore.

“So, we heard rumors about your interactions on set,��� the interviewer, a short blonde girl with an overly cheerful tone, began, her eyes locked onto Vi. “How you bickered all the time and made the director go nuts. What do you have to say about that, Vi?”

She acted like you didn’t even exist.

Almost all the questions were directed at Vi, and even when you did answer something, she barely spared you a glance, her attention fixed entirely on Vi, nodding eagerly at every word she said.

You tried not to let it bother you, but with every passing minute, you felt yourself shrinking in your chair.

By the time you left the studio, you were fuming.

Vi, however, was thoroughly entertained.

She gave you a ride home, and the moment you got into the car, you turned to her with an exaggerated voice.

“What do you have to say about that, Vi?” you mocked the interviewer’s tone. “Oh, I think you’re so hot, and I’m going to ignore Y/N while I talk to you!”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head as she started the engine. “Damn, that’s pretty good. You should do impressions more often.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at her.

“What?” She smirked, sparing you a glance. “Are you jealous?”

Your cheeks burned instantly.

“Of course I am! She ignored me the whole time!”

Vi snorted, her grip tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah, because she was too busy flirting with me.”

You huffed, looking out the window. “Could’ve at least redirected a question or two…”

Vi was quiet for a moment before she said, voice laced with amusement, “Didn’t know you cared so much about my attention, princess.”

You turned to glare at her again, but she was grinning, eyes still on the road.

“Shut up.”

Vi only laughed, shaking her head.

And when her hand dropped from the gear shift, resting just close enough to your thigh, you didn’t move away.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence. The night air was crisp, the windows rolled down just enough for the wind to kiss your face, ruffling your hair as the city lights blurred past.

For a moment, it almost felt like old times—like the months apart hadn’t left a hollow space in your chest, like you hadn’t spent too many nights staring at your phone, hesitating over an unsent message.

And then, just before Vi pulled up in front of your place, she spoke.

“Why didn’t you text me?” Her voice was casual, like she was asking about the weather, like it didn’t really matter. She kept her eyes on the road, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “Or call?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the question—by the way it hung between you, heavier than it should be.

You turned to look at her, studying her profile, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face.

“Why didn’t you?”

Vi finally glanced at you, just for a second, but there was something in her expression—something unreadable, something that made your chest tighten.

She let out a soft scoff, shaking her head as she pulled the car into park.

“Touché” she muttered.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged—like a question waiting to be answered, like a decision waiting to be made.

Then you opened the door.

Pausing for just a second, you glanced back at her. Vi was watching you now, her fingers still drumming against the steering wheel, jaw tense like she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should.

You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“See you on the premiere.”

And with that, you stepped out, closing the door behind you.

──────────────────────

On the day of the premiere, a driver picked you and Mel up. She spent the entire drive coaching you—how to answer questions, how to walk, how to carry yourself—but none of it stuck. Her voice was just background noise, drowned out by the only thought looping in your mind.

Vi.

How would she act? Would she pretend like nothing was going on? Would she ignore you? Would the two of you just be professional—smiling for the cameras, standing side by side like coworkers instead of... whatever it was you had become?

The knot in your stomach tightened with every mile closer to the venue. Your palms were damp, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mel’s voice finally broke through your daze.

You blinked, turning to her. “Huh?”

She sighed, exasperated but amused. “That’s what I thought.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she added, “She’s probably thinking about you just as much as you’re thinking about her.”

You scoffed, looking away. It was like Mel had a sixth sense.

She just chuckled, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

The car slowed to a stop, and suddenly, it was time.

Blinding flashes erupted from every direction, a chorus of voices calling your name. You moved with practiced ease—smiling, posing, keeping your posture pristine as you stepped onto the red carpet.

But your mind was elsewhere.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching. Looking for her.

If Vi had arrived, you couldn’t see her. And that realization made the knot in your stomach twist just a little tighter.

You spotted Frank mid-interview and took the opportunity to approach him.

“Hii!” You waved, making your presence known.

“Oh, there she is! One of our stars of the night!” Frank beamed, his entire demeanor much warmer than the no-nonsense director you were used to seeing on set. “She’s one of the reasons we’re standing here tonight!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Frankie. Without you, this project never would’ve happened.”

The interviewer smiled at your exchange, clearly entertained. “The chemistry in Complex felt so real—especially between you and Vi. What was it like working so closely together?”

At the mention of her name, you hesitated for just a second—just long enough for Frankie to notice.

“Ah,” he teased, nudging you lightly, “now that’s a question.”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus. “Vi is... incredible. She’s the kind of actress that makes you better just by being in the scene with you.”

The interviewer nodded eagerly. “And off-camera?”

Your lips parted, but before you could say anything—

“Why don’t you ask me that?”

Your breath caught.

Because there she was.

Vi strolled up beside you, effortlessly charming, effortlessly her—a lazy smirk playing at her lips, the sharp cut of her suit fitting her entirely too well.

And just like that, the entire world shrank down to her.

She stopped beside you, her hand instinctively finding your waist—like it belonged there. A gentle squeeze, warm and grounding, as she turned to answer the question.

“I’m wonderful to work with. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you.” She smirked, her tone playful, but you barely registered her words.

Because damn.

She looked stunning.

The open-back suit she wore left little to the imagination, her toned muscles on full display beneath the flashing lights. It wasn’t fair—nothing about her was fair.

Your focus shattered, your train of thought completely derailed.

The interviewer laughed, oblivious to the way your eyes shamelessly roamed over Vi. “And what about her?” she asked, motioning to you. “What was she like to work with?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, considering. Then, as if she hadn’t just ruined your ability to form a coherent sentence, she murmured

“She makes it easy.”

Your breath hitched.

She wasn’t looking at the interviewer. She was looking at you.

And you felt it—like a spark catching fire, like something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After countless photos, interviews, and polite smiles, the entire cast finally made their way inside the theater for the screening. But Vi was still glued to you—her hand finding your waist, her fingers brushing against yours, her presence a constant, undeniable force.

So you did the only thing that made sense.

You grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the nearest bathroom.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Vi chuckled, but followed you without hesitation.

You pushed open the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind you.

Then you turned to her, frustration boiling over. “Okay,” you started, jabbing a finger into her chest, “I need you to be sohonest with me right now.”

Vi raised an amused brow but said nothing, letting you continue.

“Are you being serious or is this just for the movie?” You demanded, your heart racing. “Because I swear to God, Vi, you’re giving me serious mixed signals, and I don’t know if I’m being down-right delusional or—”

And she had the audacity to smirk at you.

That damn smirk. The one that made your stomach flip. The one made impossibly more infuriating by the bold red of her lipstick.

Vi took a step closer, slow and deliberate, her voice dropping into something almost dangerous.

“What if I am being serious?”

Your pulse skyrocketed. The air between you felt thick, charged with something that had been simmering for too long.

“Then we need to do something about it,” you said, inhaling sharply—your lungs burned like you had been holding your breath for weeks. “Because I’m tired of you joking around and then holding me like you want me, looking at me like that…”

Vi tilted her head slightly, her smirk softening into something real. Something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Like what?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “Like you feel something,” you admitted, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “Like you want this as much as I do.”

She exhaled, long and slow, her fingers twitching at her sides—like she was holding herself back.

Then, so quietly it almost got lost in the space between you, she said, “I do.”

You barely had time to process it before her hands were on you, pulling you in, closing the distance in a way that left no room for uncertainty.

Her lips crashed into yours, and this time, there was nothing to hide behind. No cameras, no script, no excuses. Just her. Just you. And the way she kissed you like she had been waiting for this moment just as desperately as you had.

Your hands went straight to the opening of her suit, fingertips dragging down the exposed skin of her back, desperate, needing to hold her—to make sure she was real and not just another scene you’d have to pretend didn’t mean anything.

Your back hit the door you had locked only moments ago, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat pooling between you. Vi’s hands were everywhere—on your neck, slipping under the fabric of your dress, gripping the back of your thigh as she lifted it around her waist. The only sound in the bathroom was your breathless kisses, the rustling of clothes, the quiet hum of a moment neither of you wanted to end.

Until your phone started ringing.

You groaned against her lips, fumbling for the device in your purse without pulling away completely. Vi kissed down your neck, her lips never leaving your skin as you glanced down at the screen.

Mel’s name flashed on the display.

“Fuck,” you exhaled.

Vi huffed out a breath, her thumb brushing over your hip, her smirk returning. “You gonna get that?”

You hesitated. No, you really didn’t want to.

But Mel was persistent, and if you didn’t pick up, she’d probably barge into the bathroom herself.

With a groan, you answered, trying—and failing—to steady your breathing. “Mel—”

“Where the hell are you?” she hissed. “The movie is about to start! I swear to God, if you and Vi are off somewhere being unprofessional—”

You locked eyes with Vi, her smirk only growing.

“We’re coming” you said quickly, voice slightly breathless.

“You better.” And with that, Mel hung up.

Vi chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Guess we should go be professional, huh?”

You sighed, reluctantly letting her step back, already missing the warmth of her. But as you looked at her—lipstick smudged, pupils blown, her suit out of place from where your hands had been—you knew there was no more pretending.

Something had changed.

And this time, neither of you wanted to run from it.

──────────────────────

You fixed yourself as best as you could, smoothing out your dress, running your fingers through your hair, and dabbing at your lips to make sure they weren’t too swollen. But Vi—Vi was a mess. Her lipstick was completely gone, her eyeliner smudged just slightly at the edges, and the faint red marks on her back, stark against her skin, were impossible to ignore.

“Why did you wear this stupid suit?” you muttered under your breath, practically dragging her toward the theater.

Vi chuckled, completely unbothered. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You shot her a glare, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

By the time you slipped inside, the room was dim, the screen displaying the production company logos as the final guests settled in their seats. You spotted Mel near the middle row and made a beeline for her, thanking God that Vander was still across the room, too deep in conversation with Frank to pay you or Vi any mind.

Mel barely spared you a glance as you slid into the seat beside her, Vi dropping into the one next to you. Then, without missing a beat, she leaned in and whisper-yelled, “Where were you? Actually—” she held up a hand before you could answer, “don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a smirk.

“Just sit down,” she sighed, adjusting in her seat. “You’re lucky Frank decided to give a speech before it started.”

Vi leaned in, just enough that only you could hear. “See? We are professionals.”

You rolled your eyes, but when her hand held yours on the armrest, when she shot you that look, like this was your little secret, you knew—tonight wasn’t just about the movie.

It was about you and her.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[papayafiles]

watch drive to survive with me, a lando fan with absolutely zero chill, season 6 episode 3 edition:

(this got so long it literally exceeded tumblr's character limit, which i did not know existed until now, so i'm splitting it into two parts and posting it anyway because what is a tumblr blog for if not dramatic unhinged public breakdowns!)

it hasn't even started and i'm already Losing My Mind

"the brand cries out for more performance" with angsty heavy music... i forgot how dramatic drive to survive was. the music really enhances the stakes here.

"we did go backwards last year. no denying" cut to daniel struggling at the back 😭 he's not even in the team anymore and he's still catching strays. drive to survive editors have zero chill.

dramatic conversation between zac brown and a mclaren exec about how poorly things are giong... cut straight to lando walking into his interview with rice cakes smiling and giggling. I LOVE HIM.

the squeal of excitement that came out of my mouth at his VERY FIRST line (it's one word: "wow". wow indeed lando norris. you. yes. wow. i need to stop)

producer: "did you break it?" lando: *instantly looks concerned and checks*

LMAO not oscar waving his arms in front of the mtc double doors trying to motion sensor them open... only to fail epically 😭 dork (affectionate)

LANDOSCAR <3

oscar arriving late to the first mclaren team meeting and immediately thinking to ask his guide if lando's arrived yet vs lando making a point of pointing out that he beat oscar there 😭 idiots

lando watching oscar walk into the room for the first time with a contemplative expression… what are you thinking in that beautiful curly head of yours

oscar, doing an official interview about mclaren f1 vs lando, in the corner, eyeing him up and down: oscar’s quite tall, huh? he doesn’t look tall, but he is. he’s also like 15.

trademark dts beat drop after will buxton finishes dramatically chatting shit oh i've missed this

lando face scrunch count: 1

oh no we’re doing bahrain

i didn’t watch bahrain live so i didn’t know it was this bad 😭 wdym 25-30 second long fifth stop of the race my god

“red bull DOMINATES bahrain” yeah yeah shut up

claire williams??? what is she doing here

lando looking distraught cut the cameras i can’t do this 😭

“is it too soon to call it a crisis?” f1 journalists have zero chill (derogatory)

mclaren were DEAD LAST?? i was not aware

not christian horner again 😭 leave lando ALONE! he doesn’t want you!! netflix pls stop exploiting cute norstappen clips for your rbr lando agenda i do NOT endorse this

christian horner saying lando would fit really well in the red bull environment…………… in WHAT world

i’m so interested in seeing how conversations with pr managers go… like this is so fun to see them go through the bullet points of what topics journalists might ask and the ~vibe~ they want to be giving in their responses

…okay netflix i REALLY feel like you’re taking clips out of context and splicing them together to form a narrative here. and i get that that’s your whole job. but i think i also get why lando signed that renewal so early now 😭 warding off dts bullshit before it can even start to hit

“we’re so slow on the straight” dipping to a whisper like a confession he didn’t mean to slip out… glance up then back down again… i see you storytellers weaving the narrative. i see you. i get it. you really don't need to keep going

okay i know lando and zak are having a very serious conversation in this scene but also. lando in golf clothes. arms. AND legs. bronze tanned smooth skin... i’m not even thirsting here i’m just pointing out OBJECTIVE facts that are possibly maybe a little bit distracting me from… whatever they're talking about

“i’ll do my best, as always” ❤️ he always does

will buxton shut UP

why are they spending so much time on miami... they weren’t even good there… we’re getting more angst aren’t we.

ohh i forgot how pretty the red bull miami liveries were

nevermind they’re showing max lapping the mclarens. no longer pretty. fuck that livery actually

lando sounds so depressed on the radio i’m going through it 😭

did he really say haha. LOL. :/ on the radio 😭😭😭

“i’m not suggesting it may look bad. i’m suggesting it is bad”

lando saying "fucking hell" on the radio count: 2

okay do we really need another montage of team principals ragging on mclaren. we get it! you want him! he has a line of admirers a mile long! move on!!

NORRUSSEL CONTENT

according to george there are drivers who drink during normal race weekends?? lando throwing up his hands as the camera points toward him like not me! (i can't tell if george is joking but that sounds crazy to me? i bet it's either a really depressed backmarker or max after winning the wdc on a saturday)

not george calling the mclarens horrendous 😭 have some mercy

……………………………………...........

NETFLIX—

cut the cameras.

NETFLIX WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME

the way i'm actually in tears 😭 i'm so fragile right now do not talk to me

"this is the worst start to any season i've ever had. i want to be the best driver there is in formula 1. that's why i started my whole journey" THEN THEY CUT TO HIM IN A GO-KART??? A MONTAGE SEQUENCE???

they really edited together a mini montage of lando's whole journey including interview clips of him as a young child then put a voiceover of his tiny baby voice saying "i need to be stronger and not make so many mistakes" over video footage of adult lando looking depressed out the plane window and expected me to just be okay after that.

then they go straight into a montage of zak brown and lando's history together going way back ("first time i met lando, he was a small 14 year old ... he was very shy, as you'd expect a 14 year old... he was very fast.") cutting between old photos of them together pre-f1 with emotional music ("i think the first time he drove a racecar it was probably mine") oh! okay then!!

"i would love to create the story and finish the story and everything with mclaren. i really would love that." EVERYTHING HURTS

why does watching this episode make me feel like he's going to leave mclaren when i KNOW he just signed a contract extension? the magic of mood-setting background music and splicing clips together

zak brown meeting with all the sponsors... he is a stronger man than me. i would be freaking out in his position. it's also insane how much is riding on literal sports results from a corporation/business perspective? like the amount of pressure on f1 drivers to deliver is wild and here we are giggling at our silly clown sport and its silly circus events

oh claire williams shut up

(you don't even have a job in f1 anymore why are you still HERE)

[jalenh1]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐭? / / 𝘫𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯 & 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢.

Who: SC & JH ( @brinacarpcnter )

When: December 31st, 2023

Where: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Plot: Sabrina's frustration grows with Jalen, and then the truth comes out.

Triggers: N/A

SABRINA: Sabrina knew he would be upset; and rightfully so. Losing to a 3-12 team was rough, to say the least. But she was starting to become overwhelmed with what to do in these situations. Even when they won, Jalen was still hard on himself. But right now, it was multiplied by ten with them losing. And she really wanted today to be a good day, regardless of the outcome of the game because it was New Year’s Even and she was performing in front of millions for the Rockin’ Eve special in Times Square. And knowing he’d get to be there to see her perform had her incredibly excited all day. But right now? She didn’t even want to be seen in public because of how defeated and frustrated she was. Sabrina was in the middle of packing a small overnight suitcase when she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. She knew it was Jalen, but she decided to ignore him; continuing the process of throwing stuff into her suitcase. Though while she was doing so, a single tear had managed to escape from her eyes, but she quickly wiped it away with a quiet sniffle. “I don’t know how to help you anymore, Jalen,” she said quietly, finally acknowledging his presence.

JALEN: Jalen had full intention to let him enjoy himself after the game, going to New York City to see Sabrina shine. And while nothing in the world would stop him from going, his mood had quickly soured, putting the same manifestation of learning, growing from the loss, into the air at the after game press conference — yet, truth be told, he wasn’t so sure he believed it himself anymore as a leader. He felt the weight on his shoulders as he strolled into the room Sabrina was in, quiet until she spoke up, and then he exhaled a deep sigh as he ran his hands over his head. “It’s not your job to help me,” he said, not wanting a burden on her before her big night. “But you can’t really expect me to walk around and be happy about that, right? It’s not happening. I failed everyone out there.” He inched forward to initially take a seat, but stood there, eventually beginning to pace. “There’s only so many times I can say the same damn shit before people don’t buy it, before this team gives up on me because I can’t execute. I wanna be locked the fuck in.” He could feel himself getting angry now, heated as he felt every emotion of blowing it. “It was supposed to be our year, and to end it like that? At that rate, ain’t nobody gonna fucking help me.”

SABRINA: Sabrina had never stopped what she was doing and turned around so fast before to face Jalen. “What do you mean it’s not my job? I’m literally your girlfriend, Jay. It is my job to help you through whatever feelings and emotions you’re dealing with. But you’re making it fucking impossible to do it at this point because you don’t want to hear what I have to say,” she argued back. “I’ll never expect you to feel any sort of way about anything. I just feel fucking helpless when you’re like this.” The blonde’s voice softened a bit as she eventually made her way over to Jalen, but still kept a good distance from him. “Saying you failed everyone out there and that they’re all going to give up on you is fucking bullshit and you know it. Those guys would go to hell and back for you, just like you’d do the same for them. Don’t even deny it, because you know I’m right,” Sabrina said with a sigh. The absolute last thing she wanted to be doing was fighting with her boyfriend right now when they literally had to be on a plane in a half hour, but she wasn’t going to leave until things were resolved. “Do you remember when I told you that you don’t always have to be Superman? That applies right now. You are still 11-5 and there’s so much to be proud of. No one is going to hate you for having a rough day. And you definitely don’t have to carry the whole franchise on your back, either. That’s why you’re a fucking team, you’re supposed to lean on each other in times like these. But what do I know, right? Since you don’t like to listen to me,” she spat bitterly and turned back around to pick up where she left off on packing her things into her suitcase.

JALEN: Jalen exhaled a deep sigh as Sabrina turned to face him, making points that made complete sense, but nothing he wanted to admit to. He dropped his arms that were crossed at his chest as her voice softened, his line of sight down on her. He listened as she spoke, not wanting to interrupt, despite the numerous messages that contradicted her speech somewhere deep in his mind. Once she turned on her heels after her last sentence, he couldn’t help but feel like the inferior one, that Sabrina was only trying to lift his spirits and he had always been quick to dodge it and remain stuck in his ways. He had never been great at articulating his feelings, and to have someone like Sabrina willingly listen to them? It was something he wasn’t used to, either. “It’s just.. reading all this shit that I’m no good, a fraud, it gets in your damn head.” His words were soft now, finally making it to the bed and sitting at the edge of it as he looked down at the floor, to his hands, rotating the watch on his wrist absentmindedly. “Like, when the people that once believed in me start to feel that way, kinda makes you think.” He said, a shrug of his shoulders, “I know we still have everything in front of us, we’re the same team that started out strong, just hard to bounce back after losses like that. Even harder when I just want to make you proud, too,” he paused, picking his head up to see Sabrina still working on packing up her bag. “You’ve been coming out to all these games, and fuck, I love the game, but when I started loving you even more, times like this have me thinkin' I don’t want you feeling like you wasted your time on me.”

SABRINA: Honestly, at this point, Sabrina had already started tuning out anything else that Jalen was saying. Why bother listening to him when he never listened to her? That was her current logic. Tears unknowingly welled in her eyes again when she was finally finished with packing, but this time, she didn’t bother to wipe them away because she didn’t care that much anymore. Finally, she pulled her suitcase off of the bed and had started to walk out of the bedroom, Jalen still fully talking to her. But Sabrina swore she had never stopped so fast in her tracks when he so casually mentioned that he started loving her. Of all the things she managed to tune out, that wasn’t one of them. He… Loved her? Did she even hear that right? Time felt like it was frozen when she finally turned around to face him slowly, to make sure that she had heard him right. “Wh… What?” She barely squeaked out, her voice small and nearly inaudible. “You… You love me?” Sabrina asked again, once again needing to make sure she heard Jalen right.

JALEN: At this point, Jalen was speaking without much of a filter, something that was unlike him, but it just went to show how he felt around Sabrina. His heart did the talking for him, leaving his girlfriend puzzled as she made her way to the doorway, ready to leave. He looked up just as she had turned around, looking at her in silence before he got back up on his feet and stepped a bit closer to her, still giving her some space if she needed it. “I love you,” was how he answered, hoping to God it was reciprocated, but nevertheless he wasn’t about to back track. Sabrina wanted Jalen to be truthful with her, to listen to her, and he wasn’t going to take the lead by downplaying how he felt towards her. It was the complete truth, whether he meant to out it or not: he was falling in love. He was in love. Despite things starting slow, Jalen found himself falling fast, and now? He couldn’t let Sabrina leave without knowing it. “I didn’t know I was looking for it, but, it found me and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

SABRINA: When Jalen repeated himself to confirm it, it felt like all of the air had been knocked out of Sabrina's lungs. She didn't care how soon it was, she was one-hundred percent in love with him, too. She was just afraid to admit it out loud to herself, much less, to him, because she wasn't sure if he would reciprocate the feelings. But low and behold, he was the first one to say it, washing away all of her fears. Sabrina let him finish, then all but dropped all of her belongings and practically sprinted for him, throwing herself at him without even thinking twice about it. With her arms secured tightly around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, she didn't want to let go. She was afraid that this was just a dream and that she'd be woken up anytime soon. But the tighter she held Jalen, the more she realized it wasn't a dream. That this was reality. "I love you, too, Jay," Sabrina finally returned the sentiment, squeezing him a bit tighter. "I wasn't looking for it, either, but I can't help how I feel about you... You're everything I've ever wanted in a person and that made it way too easy for me to fall in love with you."

JALEN: When Sabrina came up to him and into his arms like she belonged there, he knew instantaneously he had nothing to worry over. He tightened his grip on her, as if she were to let go, even if he knew well enough that it was as if she were molded to him. He swayed a bit back and forth with her in his arms, listening to the soothing sound of her voice, how she spoke about having the same feelings that he spoke from his heart. He didn’t want an argument to bring it out of him, but it came naturally, releasing his feelings to her like it was now or never, no turning back, not even a thought that could have prevented him from speaking the truth. To hear he was everything she ever wanted, and everything she didn’t know she was looking for, he knew he was worrying for nothing. No matter how many wins, and no matter how many losses, he would come home to her. And he loved her. He pulled back just enough to kiss her, an apologetic look in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry if you felt as if I didn’t bother listening to you before,” he said, “I’ll be the first to admit I’m stubborn. But for you, I’d do anything.”

SABRINA: When Jalen pulled back to kiss Sabrina, she instantly melted into him and the words he spoke soon after. It felt like a relief that they were on the same page with something for once, and that he was apologizing not really listening to her. The blonde took his face in her small hands, and one of her thumbs absentmindedly caressed over the noticeable stubble along his jawline. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I just want to be with you right now,” Sabrina said, sealing it with another kiss. And with Jalen in agreement, the couple decided it was to be a conversation for another day. Instead ending the conversation so that they could make love with one another until they eventually had to head out for Sabrina’s New Year’s Eve performance in New York City. She hadn’t expected her day would turn into what it did, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. They loved each other unconditionally and that was all that mattered to either of them now.

[olderjodijournals]

Monday, April 1, 1996

 

Last Saturday I got a reply from Denise Austin herself. On the bottom of a standard letter, she wrote herself to exercise 5 times a week and that I could do it, etc. As famous and as busy as she is, I certainly never expected her to write to me herself. She was quite vague though at answering my question. I wanted to know if her Tone-Up 1-2-3 program was enough for me to do every other day, but she didn’t really answer that. Still, it was nice that she responded.

This weekend was a good one, and Tom lost the bet like we knew he would. Of course, he had to go on and on swearing that he wanted to win more than anything and that if we just give it a chance, we can take care of the problem ourselves and all this bullshit.

When we were screwing in the living room, he tried to tell me that when he was about to cum, he’d pull out, finish himself off, then stick it back in me when the cum came out. Then he said he didn’t know when to pull it out cuz he cums instantly without warning. As I know, though, this is impossible. You have 3 or more seconds of warning as to when you’re about to cum. Then he went on with how I’m sexy and he loves me and there’s nothing wrong with me. Well, then if that’s the case, what’s his problem? Fear of getting me pregnant, of course.

I’m not as upset about this as I thought I’d be since I expected, accepted and knew it was coming. The thought of his cumming and us having a kid is starting to go numb on me and I just don’t know if I want it as bad anymore with the way he is.

I’m glad we won’t be having sex till Saturday, cuz I kind of want to just be on my own for a while. It still isn’t that easy always just forgetting and getting close to a liar who’s betrayed you in a big way and is denying you something you had dreamed of and wanted. He may as well have made the decision for us both and gone and tied my tubes up or something.

Due to my writing about his lying about not cumming, and not being able to have a kid, I was blinded from something else I was forgetting that’s very much the case and important. There is still God and the DES. Even if Tom came, I still really wonder if I could get pregnant anyway. All I know is that it’s over. There’s absolutely no way I can or will ever have a child. I’m 100% it’s not meant to be and there’s some good in this decision, too, that God and Tom have made for me. All I have to do is keep on plugging at getting over it and looking at the many good things there are to their decision.

Tom admitted that he was a liar. He said that placing the bet was a bad thing cuz he can’t stand timetables. Then, why didn’t he tell me? And why did he lie about it and say he’d win? And he begs me to trust him? Yeah, right! And like this also makes me determined to get us to a doctor next year. I really don’t think so. Not with his attitude and lies.

Yesterday Tom rigged the cable so we could see that sex channel. It really wasn’t anything that interesting or exciting, though.

Yesterday I hit the jackpot on a few things I bought. First we went over and got Ma and took her to buy a tape player while Dad slept. She couldn’t find one she wanted and of course, she had to stop and look at things for Nickolena and a lot of her conversation was about her. I know she loves Tom and me, but sometimes I still feel that it’s the ones with kids who are superior to the rest or think that they are and that others think they are.

Then we went back and got Dad and the 4 of us went to a nursery where they got a couple of plants and I got a small pot with 5 different cactuses in it. Soon, we’re going to get Prickly Pears which are my favorite cactus and they’re only about $18. They had my favorite palm tree, too, called Queen Ann, but they were pretty expensive.

Then we went back to their place for a little while and oh my God! It was almost like the NHA, even though nothing’s quite that bad. Kids next door to them as well as behind them were screaming up a storm and bashing their ball against poor mom and dad’s fence. How do they stand it? Ma said they played their music so loud that they could hear it in the bedroom the night before. I don’t see how they can deal with it and they can easily afford to move.

Then Tom and I went out to Walgreens where I got 3 new lipsticks. Two of them are too light. I got purple nail polish and 3 new beautiful journals for only $3 each. I saw the 3 there that my parents sent me, too.

Later…

Tom just came home and I told him my mind is permanently made up. No kid. Not with the way I’d be an abusive mother and with the way he’s proven to me he’d lie like hell to the kid. I may always want one, I love Tom and think he’s a great husband (when he isn’t lying) but there’s no way I could ever have a kid with him or without him, even if I could get pregnant. I’m 100% sure I’m doing the right thing and I’m gonna stand behind this for keeps.

Then he says we just won’t have sex then, till we make up our minds, but I just did make up my mind. And he made his mind up a long time ago. He just said we won’t have sex to punish me for taking away something he can no longer tease me about, but that’s fine.

Look at it realistically…we fight so much over this baby that doesn’t exist, so imagine just how much we’d fight if it did exist. No thanks.

Tuesday, April 2, 1996

 

Last night and today really sucked. But I got my period, so I’ll be OK for the next 20-some-odd days till I have to go through this anger and depression all over again.

When I asked him why the hell he made the bet in the first place if he didn’t want to, all he said was that it couldn’t hurt to do something again, even though it failed in the past and he really believed he’d cum. Yeah, right. The guy’s just got too many fucking excuses and anyone can say they really believed something would work. I’m just so sick of his excuses and how he casually lies and covers up the truth. I know that I-cum-without-warning line was just to cover up the truth. How convenient to say, “It feels so good that I don’t want to pull out, but I don’t know when to pull out to finish it off since I cum without warning.” This is total bullshit and like I said before if it feels so good to him and he loves me so much, then why isn’t that enough? Why does he always need more time to be able to cum? Wasn’t I good enough from the beginning? I know I sure as hell believe that if you love someone enough and are attracted to them, there shouldn’t be any problems unless it’s physical.

Then last night and today he’s gone on all about how sad he is about my decision not to have a kid and I know it’s all show. I know deep down the guy’s elated.

He also says he’s upset and hurt by how I said he’d abuse the kid. This was when I told him that if he could lie to his wife, he could lie to his kid, but he’d never be nearly as bad of a father as I’d be of a mother. When I said I’d beat it and do all kinds of horrible things to it, he said he was sure I wouldn’t. He just knew I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t know how or why he’s so sure of this, but it doesn’t matter anyway.

We said so many things to each other that I can’t remember every single thing we discussed and I’m so sick of getting into it even in this journal.

This morning I had such terrible cramps for the first time in quite a while and I was so very close to puking, but luckily, I didn’t. I had to take 3 Ibuprofen tablets to kill the worst of the pain and was so relieved when the worst of it was over.

Right when I got up I heard blasting rap music and I knew it was that fucking dude next door, even though I didn’t see him, but as I went out front to let him have it, there was no one there. So, I guess this one doesn’t get it. I knew the understanding M family was a rare breed. I guess he’s gonna come and go with that fucking music blaring, no matter what. But they came here quietly the other day and left with the music going not too loud at all, so why now?

We got a pen from a business pen company with the business name (Mystery Computer Enterprise) on it and that was cool.

I’m trying to decide whether or not I should ditch old letters from Kim, Bob and Alex and keep only the letters that are rare or special or very funny or interesting and different in any way. Like letters from Larry and Anne & Harry. If I do decide to ditch letters from Kim, Alex and Bob, I will still write in the highlights and anything of importance that they might say.

Thursday, April 4, 1996

 

Andy’s meeting a guy he’s spoken to over that meeting line and he said he doesn’t want to waste his time on him if he’s ugly like the last guy that he met. It was kind of funny, too, cuz he said, “If he’s ugly, I’m gonna ditch him and watch Dark Shadows.” So, this is our plan. I’ll call him at 12:30 and I’ll be from out of state. I’ll say to him that I really need to talk and if he says he can’t, that means the guy’s cute. If the guy’s ugly, he’ll tell him he got an urgent long-distance call and will ditch him.

He’ll be ditching him. I know that love isn’t meant for Andy any more than a baby is for me.

Yesterday and today Tom and I talked and we both agree that we need to be able to communicate better. It’s really weird cuz I feel as if I’m one of the bluntest people, yet people still don’t get me. Also, I’m really good with most people, but he’s a tough one at times, even though I know deep down where he stands on most things. He’s just too contradicting, as far as I’m concerned and not blunt enough with me. He admitted that he’ll offer to do things for me even if he doesn’t want to. Well, then how can I believe he isn’t full of shit and saying he wants a kid when he obviously doesn’t, even though he swears he does?

I know I’m not perfect and that I can’t always deliver the things I say I’ll do, but I’m still a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. One minute he expresses how he’s afraid to do what he wants (not have a kid), but worries that I’ll be angry, bitter and resentful about it. Then in the next breath, he says he wants a kid and swears we’ll have more sex and that he’s doing all he can so we can have a kid, but won’t cum and we don’t end up having more sex, either. He can’t have his cake and eat it, too. He’s gonna have to make up his mind and do what he says he’s decided to do.

Me? My heart still cries out for a kid, but my head still believes that I made the right decision (even though I’ve got no choice and he pretends to be sad about it) not to have a kid cuz it’s not the right thing to do or a good thing to do.

Before he went to bed he said he felt better and that he’s cautiously hopeful. He says he’s encouraged but doesn’t want to jump the gun, but there really isn’t anything to hope for or to jump the gun for. We’re still gonna have our good days and our bad days and I’ll still get angry and sad over the decisions he’s made for us, etc. Regardless of our attitudes or what either of us wants, thinks, believes or feels, nothing’s gonna change. Tom and God will see to that. I will just go on loving this man for all his wonderful qualities, while still being angry at his lying to me about a kid here and there, even though I’m glad it turned out this way and glad I don’t have to worry about pregnancy, even though I’d still like that mutual sex. And he’ll go on being burdened by when I do go through my angry spells and all the while keep on denying it’s his choice to not cum and he’ll swear he always wanted a kid.

He said the most ridiculous thing to me last night. He said that if I gave up on trying for a kid now, we’ll never know if we couldn’t or could’ve had one cuz of all the fighting we’ve done about it for the last 2½ and a half years and that the last 2½ and a half years don’t count or matter. How insulting. Besides, what with most couples out there being unhappy and what with the way they fight, you’d think the human race would be just about extinct, but no, instead most couples do have kids.

Friday, April 5, 1996

 

Yup, the guy Andy met was ugly.

Sometimes I still wish Tom and I could have normal sex and a child, but I understand that this always will and must remain just a fantasy.

I’m through begging and pleading with Tom and God about it and they’ll never change their minds about it.

They’re over there next door now, but I don’t know for how long.

Tom’s been on the phone now for quite a while at the computer guiding Eldon through some problem.

He seems to be in a great mood since I said I knew I had to stick to my decision and since I told him I’ll try my best not to get upset over his decision which is the same as mine.

He was affectionate earlier but showed no desire to have sex. I saw a slight grin on his face when I went to use the vibrator. It was like he was saying to himself, “Oh, good. She’s gonna use the vibrator, so I don’t have to worry about her bugging me for sex.” I wonder if his grin also had to do with the fact that maybe he fucked up the vibrator as a mean, teasing joke. It seemed to lose half its power after I said I was getting dependent on it and he knows if that happens, he can’t tease me with sex as much.

I called my dad earlier to wish him a happy birthday and Ma was on the phone too. I told Dad that if we were there in June, I could help with fitting the candles on Ma’s birthday cake and that maybe we could get her a cake in the shape of an airplane.

He also said he spoke to Tammy who woke up to snow this morning! It’s April yet they still have snow!!

Saturday, April 6, 1996

 

The vibrator is just about completely dead and Tom said that the transformer he put on died and that it wasn’t the right one. Well, then why’d he put this one on? He says he has others that are right for it.

He wanted to have sex earlier but then changed his mind cuz I had to tell him something first. I can’t do or say anything in order to get laid! He knew when I was going to use the vibrator, too, and why he didn’t offer himself instead, beats me.

He also swears he didn’t lie about wanting to place the bet, he said he made a mistake by placing that bet and didn’t know it’d be a mistake at the time he placed it with me. He said you can’t call someone a liar for making a mistake. What a casual way to cover up the truth! I mean, how fucking convenient! He’s gonna use that same idea for the appointment next year if we do go. He’ll say he thought maybe it could help us and he honestly tried to make it work and let it help him, but that’ll be a mistake, too.

He swears he still wants a kid and that it’s possible, but I don’t want to be set up by him or myself to fall, even though it sometimes makes me so very, very sad to know we’ll never have one.

He asked me if I meant it when I said I didn’t want a kid a few days ago. I do, but I know it’s not right and that it won’t happen, so it doesn’t matter what I want, right? Not when he’s got all the control and the power to let us have a kid or to make sure we don’t. The ball’s in his court and it’s all up to him, as I told him. Along with God.

Why does God hate me so much? Sometimes I feel he hates me so damn much and really wants to just torture the shit out of me. What did I do to make him hate me so much? And if it’s true that we pay for the sins of our forefathers, then what did any of my ancestors do that was so bad? He must have hated the hell out of someone so bad that did something so very wrong to have me pay for it for the rest of my life, if it isn’t all cuz it’s me he hates and me only. There’s always a price to pay for the wonderful things we do get, too. If I were pregnant, would God replace my life with some other issue that would make me angry and depressed? Would he make sure the kid was deformed? Would he make sure the labor and delivery drove me out of my mind? Would he make sure I was a bad mom? Would he ruin our marriage? What would he do if he let me have my way on this one? I’ll never know.

It’s so hard sometimes to tell myself that Tom and God really did make the correct decision. It’s so hard to not blow up at Tom cuz he can’t deal with that. Why can’t people just have the things they want in life? If not everything they want, then why not the things they want the most? I’m not asking to be 6 feet tall or anything far out. I’m just asking for a child to love and to hopefully be loved back by that child and to make a difference for the better in that child’s life and to not be like my mom was.

I envy Tammy and Larry. They know what they want to do with their lives and they have kids. Me? I’m 30 years old and I don’t know what the fuck I want to do since I can’t do what I want to do.

Tom said he wouldn’t have sex with me, if I didn’t want a kid, without birth control of some kind. What a waste of time, effort and money! That tells me that he’s probably thinking, “If she’s on birth control, then I can cum without having to worry about ending up with this kid I never wanted. Meanwhile, as long as she says she does want one, I’ll go along with it, say I want one, too, and take care of my own self.” He probably wouldn’t cum right away to try to cover for the truth, though, knowing him.

I still wish I knew how this was gonna end and when. Will he ever come out and admit he never wanted one? Or will he suddenly decide he doesn’t want one and tell me that, even though he never wanted one? I think he’ll always swear to wanting one, swear he tried, but just couldn’t ever cum.

This is what I did about the letters. I ditched Bob’s letters but cut out about 6 drawings he did that I like and want to draw myself and put them in the back of this journal. I kept everyone else’s letters, but will no longer keep any letters unless they’re different or special to me for some reason.

I spoke to Mom and Dad (Anna & Harry) yesterday. First Dad answered and didn’t know who I was at first. He was happy to hear from me. Then he said, “Here’s your mother.”

She got on saying, “Hi Peanuts, what’s up?” and we had a very good talk. She and her family are in good health and they were once out in Scottsdale and says you never know if they’ll ever come out here again. She says her son Freddie divorced, remarried, and has a 6-month-old son as well as a 12-year-old son with his first wife. She complimented me on my artwork and they said to give their love to Tom and that they’re so happy for me and my life out here. Of course, they don’t know that I cry over this baby I can never have. She also said she’ll be answering my letter and I told her to take her time since I know how busy she is.

Oh, how I hope Tom and I can see them someday, even if it’s for one last time.

Andy’s new number will be easy to remember. He got rid of his number that began with 508 cuz he said it was too much like a pager.

Andy got a letter from Sarah who now lives with her boyfriend in L.A. I’ll be sending her a letter and I’m sure I’ll be hearing from her, too.

Tom said it’s OK to listen to and consider what she and Robin may tell me, but that I must make my own decisions and not look for signs or other sources. Well, it’s awfully hard to make a decision you can’t make. And I’m sorry, but other sources are a factor and they don’t let me make my own decisions.

I have been having more dreams with babies in them as I asked for as a sign of whatever, but it never seems to be our kid. The kid is always someone else’s, so it seems and I’m just a bystander. It must be something about Kim getting pregnant, although she said she was gonna wait till right after she’s married. Maybe they set a date and that’s why I’ve been having more. Who knows what the dreams mean?

Tomorrow I have to get up earlier to go to his parent’s house to see Steven and his family who came in for Easter. I don’t think Steven’s wife’s son Matthew will be there, though. I think he’s with his dad. Carol’s parents own a private plane, so that’s how they came over. Steven and Carol will be staying with Mom and Dad for a couple of days I guess and they’ll surely be in for lots of noise! That place is a wild, horrendous zoo.

I’m probably gonna be bored out of my mind tomorrow for the most part, since Tom will no doubt want to stay there for hours since he doesn’t get to see Steven too often. I hope I’m not dog-tired, either.

Sunday, April 7, 1996

 

Soon, I’ll be writing about going over to his parents’ place and more. First, though, I’d like to watch some TV.

Later…

He woke me up at 2 PM and yes, I was dog tired, but I woke up quickly. We took off an hour later for Mom and Dad’s where food and people were waiting for us.

Steven and Carol were there and soon Ray and Nora came over. Their daughter Jackie was there with her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s kid. The boyfriend, Jim, who lives in an apartment, was going on about how he too, hates the paper-thin walls the apartments have out here.

Then Carol went on to say how people in houses aren’t always so quiet either. From the sound of it, she’s got a large family next to her as well as a dog that never shuts up.

After a few hours, we came home.

It looks like they might be fully moved in. Tom said he saw a black car out there, but I’ve only seen a red one and a blue one, so who knows whose it is. I could’ve sworn I heard the kid screaming over there.

Great. I’m really gonna enjoy that next fall when we turn off our fans and stuff like that that helps block noise from outside.

Tom’s got to stay up late cuz he’s working the night shift this week. I’m sure he’s also putting sex off (if he wants it) till the last minute to tease me and to make it easier for him to hold back. He still hasn’t touched me, but hey, he just has to punish me for nearly taking away his favorite thing to tease me with. For the most part, I’d still rather cry over never having a kid, than have one.

Monday, April 8, 1996

 

Tom fixed the bathroom sink which is nice. Before, the water would fill up in the sink and take forever to drain.

For the millionth time, I told Tom that I need and want to have more sex and that I don’t want to feel like I’m the last priority of the day. I may be glad I don’t have the typical male here, but must he be so different? Can’t he be somewhat like the average guy for a change and not be so weird? Will my message sink in this time or is he really never gonna be that into me and sex?

He did go down on me, which was great. Then, after a few minutes of banging, he had to stop due to his worries and doubts as to what I thought of him. Perfect timing to ask such a thing. I mean, I’m glad he asked, but he’s a real winner, I swear!

I’m gonna go now and see if I can fit print on some really pretty floral stationery Kim sent me. Then, maybe I’ll start Sarah’s letter, as well as Kim and Bob’s.

Tuesday, April 9, 1996

 

Well, Tom should be home any minute now.

From 11:30 PM - 3:00 AM I was at Andy’s He picked me up and fed me lasagna from work, then he went out food shopping while I got very, very lucky. I didn’t think I’d be able to do another cat drawing as I’ve got in the music room, but so far, so good.

He’s home now, so I’ll write more about it later.

Wednesday, April 10, 1996

 

I’m not sure if I dreamt it or if next door’s car music really did wake me up. Tom said there was no way it was next door cuz he didn’t hear anything, and he saw the 3 of them pull in as he went out to pick up smokes an hour earlier. Then, how could I dream something that seemed so real? I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though. If that damn car stereo does wake me up, I won’t hesitate to go over there and say, “Look, I’ve asked you twice and now I’m asking for the last time that you cut the thing down upon coming and going. Way down.”

I asked Tom if they had their music on when they arrived and he said no, so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. It does appear that they are here full-time, though.

I’m just so sick of other people’s noise. Their dogs, their kids, their cars, etc. One good thing about it is that I haven’t heard the kid next door. Yet. I’m almost ready to believe Robin on this one, but not quite just yet. Not fully anyhow, and as for believing her when she says I’ll be pregnant soon enough? What a joke!

Tom says we might not even be here in the mid-summer. I asked him if he knew something I didn’t and he said no, he’s just more faithful in things and more optimistic. That seems more like being unrealistic to me and like a tease or a joke unless we win the lottery. I still say it’ll be several years before we move, but something else he said was a definite joke. He said that he thinks I’ll find something to do that I like. He said sometime this year is when he thinks I’ll find that, but probably even by mid-summer. I know he’s talking about the kid, but I still didn’t think he still thought I was stupid. I thought he was over his old tricks. I wasn’t about to call him a liar, cuz then he’d just insist that it was simply his opinion and he has a right to that. Well, the good thing about it is that he did say nothing’s guaranteed. Sure they are. Some things are. I can guarantee we’ll never have a kid.

Andy and I were talking about that last night. He’s not sure why he feels cursed and why he’s destined to be alone forever, but his theory is that one where we pay for the sins of our forefathers from 4000 years ago. He said it was written in the bible and that this sick, unfair rule of God was meant for the Jews. Well, the fact that the bulk of the bible is BS, gives me hope that this isn’t true. I know God does lots of sick, cruel, and mean things, but who knows? I know God can’t hate gays. Hell, he doesn’t even hate murderers, cuz if he hated anything or anyone, then I should think he’d eliminate it altogether from the face of the earth.

Andy says he believes that he won’t know the reasons why he was cursed in certain ways till after he’s dead, whereas I have 3 theories as to why God’s denying me a kid. 1. To pay for the sins of my forefathers. 2. Cuz it’d kill me and my marriage. 3. Cuz I’m not a bad enough person who kills or does other serious crimes, nor have I been a victim of such a thing as bad as molestation or anything like that. It’s got to be 1 or more of these 3 things, cuz if there’s any other reason, I can’t see it.

This isn’t a complaint, since I can’t hear it in the house, but just an observation. I am amazed at how much late-night noise I hear off in the distance. As late as midnight I can hear adults, dogs and even kids.

I just hope that the day will really come when I fully realize I don’t have to worry about next door or be paranoid about them in any way. And I hope it comes soon. Right now for example, even though Tom insists it was a dream, I’m afraid of being woken up by that damn bass of the car music, the next time I go to bed. Not only do I not want to worry for my sake, I really want a damn good excuse and reason to really believe in Robin. Oh, I believe in her. I just don’t know if I can buy every single thing she tells me. Should I believe everything she’s told me about next door, about Tom not lying about the kid and about my getting pregnant, I wonder what was their purpose in all this? To help me get through the waiting time till I know these things for sure if I ever really do? If she’s bullshitting me on that, then why would she do that? To go along with the story of my life? Meaning, God’s insistence that I be bullshitted so much? Is she just a new liar to replace old liars who are either no longer in my life or those who are but who no longer lie to me?

Before going to Andy’s yesterday, I got a message that Karson left him that he stuck on my machine. Karson was whining something along the lines of, “I know Mystery’s mad at me cuz I’m pregnant but tell her that her idol is gonna be performing here live sometime soon, but I don’t know when for sure.”

That’s OK cuz I hate live concerts and Gloria will be here in July and Andy and I both certainly hate Karson’s guts. Well, I can’t say that I hate her as she never really did me wrong. She’s just too whacked out and I’m not the Massachusetts Jodi anymore, so I don’t like getting phone calls 5 times a day anymore.

I’m doing a large ceiling-to-floor cat for Andy, but it’s somewhat different from mine. Its tail will be behind it, rather than gathered around in front of it like mine.

Andy’s place may be somewhat quieter than here, but although he has no desire to move for quite a while, he’s come to see that it’s not as quiet as he thought it’d be. He says across the street from him he hears a baby cry on a daily basis. Also, he does hear some dogs. I heard one for about two minutes while I was there, but couldn’t see or tell where it was coming from.

I typed up a book with recipes for arts and crafts stuff in it for Tom. It was a library book that is due back today. There were just over 100 of them and I did it in 3 days. I also did manage to size up letters on Kim’s stationery that she sent, after a few tries.

Later…

OK, what the hell is he up to now? Get this, he’s now trying to tell me that there are significant changes going on in our lives, but I can’t see them cuz they’re gradual changes and I’m not used to gradual changes, only sudden ones.

First of all, let me say that it doesn’t look good at all for him getting on nights. Bummer, but I guess they’re just not gonna need more people cuz according to him, there’s hardly any work to do. Now who knows if and when we’ll ever get ahead in life and have more time together? He says, though, that this is a good thing cuz he at least didn’t get himself locked into anything. True, and I guess he’s gonna have to stay on days for a while, but that good feeling I had revolving around a job or raise in June is hopefully still on. I mean, I still hope that something better comes up for him during that time.

Anyway, he said he’s so sure that my life won’t be the same by July 10th and that he wants us both to write down what we feel won’t change and he’ll let me throw it in his face and call him a liar in July if I’m as right as I know I’ll be. So, we wrote down what we think will still be the same (believe me, my life will be the same for years) and we didn’t show each other what we wrote. Instead, we sealed them in an envelope which is not to be opened till then.

He really loves to play games with me. And what is he, does he get off on me throwing things up in his face or something? Does he get off by my calling him a liar and telling him I told him so about certain things he insists will change or happen that I know won’t or can’t?

God is he weird! He either knows something I don’t or is just playing his usual games. The trick is to get my hopes up or try to anyway just to see me fail, not get what I want so I can be upset over it while he laughs to himself.

Nonetheless, here’s what I wrote. Things that won’t happen or change by July 10th:

I’ll still be smoking.

I’ll still have a weird schedule.

We’ll still be living here.

The money situation may be better, but not a lot.

You still won’t cum.

I won’t be pregnant.

I either won’t be working or I’ll be doing something that’s no big deal to me.

You still won’t want to have sex more often with me and sex will still be basically one-sided (for me).

I’ll still be angry at you here and there and feel you’re lying and teasing me about having a kid and that it’s not what you want.

We won’t have the bed or even half of the material things we want.

Later…

I just called Tammy about an hour ago and she sounded really bummed out. She told me to check the computer for her message. I immediately thought something was wrong. I thought maybe Bill was sick or something. I asked if she needed to talk and she said no. So I told her I’d go check the message, then send a reply. She said, “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

She woke up to a foot of snow, schools were closed, she had to cancel patients since Bill took her van which ended up getting stuck, she was cold, etc.

Oh, this is soooooooooooooo fucking funny!! So they’re getting April snow showers, instead of April showers! I left Andy a message, laughing my ass off as I read her message. It’ll totally make his day. He could wake up on the wrong side of the bed and this will totally snap him out of it.

It’s already getting hot out there, but God how I hate it here at times! Those fucking dogs two yards down really make me wish I had a gun! It’s so sad and so cruel just how many dogs are left outside 24/7. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Arizona had a law against dogs being allowed indoors.

They better fucking not wake me up next door, either, or I’ll be sooo pissed and boy will I let them know it! Please Robin, please be right and watch over me and keep them quiet! Please don’t compensate me for the peace I’ve had since the music stopped across the street and since the M's shut up (except for the ball games and dogs). Please don’t stick the car music on me in place of kids or ball games. Please, God, please!? I know I’m blessed with being in Arizona, but please let me sleep and have my peace?!

As far as the lousy winter goes that New England’s had in ‘93 and ‘96, compensation really does happen. No wonder I can’t have a kid and Andy’s loveless.

Mike Tyson’s in trouble again since a woman filed a sexual assault charge on him. See? A rapist can’t be changed. No matter if they’re rich, poor, famous or not.

The Phoenix Pig Department is under fire again too, for harassing people. I never thought I could hate pigs and authority figures so much, but I do. When Andy was driving me home the other night, the pigs were speeding for no reason at all. They think they’re God.

Sometimes I’m pretty sure I hate just about everyone in general.

Thursday, April 11, 1996

 

Tom should be home any minute now, so I’ll just say that before I fell asleep close to noon, Robin came to me and told me I’d sleep just fine and that I still had nothing to worry about as far as next door’s concerned. She also wouldn’t say what or give any details, but she did say that I’d be surprised by what could happen by July 10th. I’m not sure I buy the last thing she said, but she sure did mean it when she said I’d sleep okay and for this, I’m more than grateful.

Later…

Tom’s home and eating now. It still doesn’t look good for him working nights. Yeah, I figured. I mean, I’m not surprised, since it just doesn’t seem meant to be for us to spend more time together. Even if we spent all day and every day together, I still don’t think we’d have more sex. The lack of sex and the denial of a kid isn’t just God’s doing. It’s his own choice too. You can’t make yourself get into something you’re just not into. And you can’t always make someone into something or make them do something they don’t want to do. He still has hopes of finding a way to get on nights full-time, but I have a strong vibe that it isn’t gonna happen.

Like I said, things will be the same for years in general and there’ll never be a kid. I told him, though, not to just take my word for it and to check it out anyway. I just think that the more we want something, the less likely it is to happen (especially with me). Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t psychic. I hate having a strong vibe of something bad and then knowing it’s gonna happen, then seeing it happen. If I weren’t psychic, it’d still be obvious, for example, that Tom doesn’t want a kid by his not cumming. If he couldn’t get hard at all, then I’d believe he had a true problem that was out of his control. But anyone that’s the way he is has one fear in mind and one fear only…a kid.

Yesterday I got to thinking about all the pictures my mom stole. Boy, I sure do miss them at times.

I asked Tom if there’s anything he’d like me to tell this journal and he said I could get writing my retractions. Meaning, say I’m sorry that I say he’s a liar. I told him he hasn’t given me any reason to and that if he pulls his pants down and gives me a reason to, then I will.

I then mentioned calling the radio station to try to request a song, but then he said I won’t be listening to it (cuz we’ll be having sex). Now he’s in the bathroom taking a dump and he took in a library book with him. Yeah, I’ll bet he’s jerking it off right now, too.

Andy left me a message in response to my laughing on his machine about the snow Tammy’s got and he was laughing, too. He said he talked to his friend Adam at the hotel and that he and his coworkers were so jealous about it being 88 degrees here today.

Later…

We had sex and now he’s gone to bed. I told him that I’d write in here about how he’s gonna finish what I’ve started before he falls asleep. He just denied that, of course, and told me I was a nut.

There were pros and cons to the sex we just had. After my periods I feel better emotionally, but it’s harder for me to cum and I thought I’d never cum at one point. The good thing about his not wanting to fully participate in sex is that I can just have him pull out and go down on me if I’m close but am having a hard time cumming easily. If the sex was mutual for us, I wouldn’t be able to do that without him feeling teased and saying I was selfish.

So, that goes to prove again that all bad things have good in them and that good things have bad in them.

He picked up 3 interesting books from the library today when he went to return my John Saul book and renew another one I’ve just begun. One’s titled How to Turn Hobbies into Cash, but it’s not what we thought it’d be about. We thought that if your hobby is drawing, for example, it’d tell you the best way to go about selling your drawings, but instead it’s about selling others that draw things related to drawing. Take my journal-writing, for example, I’d be selling other people’s journals, pens, bookmarks and stuff like that.

The other one is Card Games for Two which is nice since everything’s usually family this and family that.

The last one was instructions for many different kinds of games.

Later…

I just stopped to feed the birds. That weird-looking one I call Measles, that’s white with gray splotches, comes around regularly now.

I just realized something. Tom’s exact words were that I could “retract all the horrible things I’ve been writing about him.”

A-ha. So, he’s been reading my journals. How else would he know I’ve been writing horrible things about him? That’d even mean that he’s read my list of stuff I said won’t happen by July 10th. You see, the reason why we agreed to not read what each other wrote was so that one couldn’t be influenced by the other, but I know better. Meaning, it doesn’t matter what I say, cuz if it isn’t something he wants, there’s nothing I could do to influence him into it. So, if he’s read my list or anything else, oh well. It’s not gonna change a damn thing. He’s a very stubborn, arrogant and determined guy. If he decides there’ll be no kid, there’ll be no kid and he’ll do or say whatever he has to do to get his way while keeping me and anything else he may want to keep along with it. Just as long as nothing enters his life that he’s against. Of course, he’d be against getting in a car accident, but that’s nothing he can guarantee in the way that he could guarantee that I don’t get pregnant.

To break down and examine one of the 3 theories I have as to why God’s dead-set against me having a child - the paying for the sins of the forefathers one, well, I thought about it. Now, all my life I’ve felt punished and have been punished/cursed in many different ways. One thing after another. I wonder, then, if it’s possible that God wanted to torture me with Tom’s not cumming, then at a later date will let Tom not be afraid to cum, then I’ll have to deal with the torture of really knowing that the DES did get the best of me. I already know that, but then there’s really knowing it. I’ve only been sprayed 10-15 times before by other guys, so maybe that’s it. Maybe he wants to torture me for a few years with this, then let him let himself cum, then get my hopes up slightly, only to see that year after year the DES got me. I don’t know. After all, it does seem more likely that together Tom and God will see to it that Tom just never cums at all. No matter if we see doctors or not and no matter what’s going on in our lives.

Friday, April 12, 1996

 

It was 13 years ago today that I jumped and I’m doing all I can to keep my mind off of it so as not to have any flashbacks.

I want to type the very bizarre conversation I had with Robin yesterday and I really mean it when I say it’s the wildest conversation I’ve ever had with her. I can’t type it, though, cuz something’s wrong with the computer. I get a weird message about something about a disk drive error. Then it says to press any key to continue, but that doesn’t help. Well, Tom should be home in an hour and a half so then he can fix it.

I’ve been forgetting all about working on backtracking through my life, but I’ll probably get back to that at some point during my next journal.

I asked Tom if he was reading my journals. He said no, which a good 95% - 98% of me believes.

Hopefully, Tom can find a new transformer for the vibrator over the weekend. He says he doesn’t even know if he has the right one cuz it’s an unusual voltage. It figures. Everything with sex that pertains to me is unusual.

OK, about my chat with Robin. I’d love to think our chat was my imagination, but I’m as sure of it as I’m sure of when Tom and I chat.

Before I get into it, though, the question is how and why would Robin want to turn on me? What did I do to make her tell me such a lie? Although, she did say she expected me to laugh and not believe her and that I could cuss her out and call her a liar all I wanted.

Well, she says I’ll be pregnant real soon, and that it’s over (all the torture and misery I felt about this subject). She knows it’s been a long hard haul, but that I got through it and survived. She swears I’ll be pregnant real soon and no, God doesn’t hate me and it won’t kill me or my marriage. She says it’ll help our marriage, the labor and delivery will go fast and that I won’t need a C-section and I won’t be as sick as I was in the NHA. We had a very lengthy discussion, so I’ll try to remember everything else we talked about later.

Later…

I had one of the two huge baked potatoes I made and Tom can have the other one.

Anyway, Robin said she had no exact dates on anything and didn’t know when or if I’d quit smoking. Actually, she said I would, but doesn’t know when. She said she gets all her information from God and that she knows my basic life plan and when I’ll die, but doesn’t know little details and trivial stuff. In other words, she doesn’t necessarily know what I’ll eat for dinner tomorrow.

She told me that it’s not that Tom really didn’t want a kid or had been planning on waiting, but that things going on in our lives were the issue. She said his subconscious will soon become free of worries about waiting till nothing’s going on cuz he’s gonna realize that things are always gonna be going on and that his subconscious will stop using that as an excuse.

She said I could tell Tom of our talk, but to try to remain as low-key as I can to help fate play itself out, even though it’s fated to be anyway and is inevitable.

Later…

I stopped writing cuz Andy called. He too, didn’t really know what to make of what Robin said.

Tom’s home now and says he’s working from 9 PM - 5 AM tomorrow night.

Back to what Robin said. She said whether I hated her or not and whether I wanted her to or not, she’ll always be looking out for me.

Yeah, well, if I find out she’s lying and she’s got to be, I’m not gonna want a damn thing to do with her anymore and I shall hope that she’ll be prepared to tell me why she had to suddenly start lying to me. Why would she want to hurt me? She was right about next door and other stuff, so why would she want to lie to me now?

I don’t think next door’s been over there, though, since yesterday or nearly two days ago.

I did tell Tom of my talk with Robin and he said don’t jump to conclusions cuz that’s what gets in the way of things happening. He said don’t believe or disbelieve her, but just let things play themselves out before deciding whether it’s true or not. He said this, but his appearance and mannerisms seemed to say, “This isn’t gonna happen so don’t bother getting your hopes up. It’s not at all gonna happen cuz I’m gonna keep on making sure it doesn’t.”

He also said he doesn’t have to read my journals to know I write bad things about him since I say bad things about him.

Oh, okay. Well, I may have said mean things to him out of anger, but other than that, I simply write what I see and believe.

Tom fixed the computer problem. He’s using the computer now, guiding Eldon, who he says is so stupid, through his latest computer crisis.

I need to update my journal chart sometime soon. The typed version I like to have, I mean. The written one I keep in #77 is all up to date. I just wish our ribbon wasn’t so dead, so I’ll just print at a higher resolution.

If I remember anything else Robin and I spoke about, I’ll write it in, of course. Right now I’m gonna go listen to music.

One more thing. Alex had bad arm luck, but fortunately for him, he didn’t break it. He just banged it up in a skiing accident.

Later…

What a scary close call I just had! I went out to smoke a cigarette, then when I turned around to come back in, there was a black widow on the door. Tom killed it, but is it a coincidence that it should be here on this day? I hope not and I sure hope they don’t ever come inside the house!

My birds are up now, but I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to go back out there just yet. Yesterday a bird tried to land in the back room window, but the strip around it was too narrow for him to stay there for more than a few seconds. We’re gonna make a little perch for them one of these days.

I wish he’d hurry up and get off the phone so I can finish typing the last 30 pages of the last book.

Perhaps I should go read for now.

When it warms up out there so I can turn the cooler on to keep the smell out, I’ll spray Raid around the doorway and those parts of the patio area where I hang out.

Later…

I just remembered. That’s it! No wonder I had such a horrible feeling when I went out back at around 1:30 AM. It was due to the black widow being right there. I really do vibe spiders. This has been one of my continual strengths as far as ESP goes.

I wonder if the coupon I got for Midol is a “sign” to help me to be low-key. It’s for PMS and I’m gonna give it a try.

Saturday, April 13, 1996

 

I slept great and they came in silence next door. Yup, they’re back. I saw a car out there.

I updated my journal chart in columns, now that I know how to do that. I fit it into 2 pages and 2 columns.

I can’t get into my library book, so I think I’ll go work some more on the computer.

Later…

It’s already warming up out there and I’ve got my suit on, but I’ll wait a while before trying to get any color. Yesterday I was in the pool just up to the top of my belly button. It’s in the low 80s.

Tom went to bed about an hour ago and says tomorrow he’ll push himself to stay up as long as he can so he can work days again.

Tom says as soon as we’ve got the money, we can get those bee things, but he wonders if they’re for real and if they won’t rip us off. Well, it’s something I want really bad, so they just might rip us off.

They must’ve left early this morning cuz there’s no car over next door. Maybe they’re not fully moved in yet after all. If they’re not fully moved in, then I wonder where they’re coming from that’s allowing them to take their sweet time. Did they come from an apartment where their lease still isn’t up? Why would they get a house 2 or 3 months before their lease was up? Maybe they just couldn’t pass up this particular house for some reason. Still, they’ve been too good to be true and I hope and pray that it stays that way! I can’t believe how right Robin’s been so far, but believe what she told me yesterday? No way! I wish I could and there are some things she says that I can believe, but this?! I don’t think so.

Tom’s a smart guy, so why would it take him this long to realize that there are always gonna be things going on in life and start cumming now? No, he just plain and simply doesn’t want a kid. And I can’t see God changing his mind now either.

If I don’t get the rest of the stuff that Gloria’s fan club promised to send real soon, I’m gonna send them a letter about it. Gloria herself did say that she’d get on people’s cases about shit like this. But to pay $18 bucks for 1 picture, 1 pin, and 2 newsletters in 2 years is getting rather ridiculous.

Later…

I’ve created a new file called the backtrak file and it’s where I’m gathering all the stuff I’ve written about life before the journals. Most of it is life before the journals, anyway.

I’m gonna continue on now with life at the beach and then maybe I can describe where other family members lived and describe them better. I’ve already described members on Tom’s side of the family since we all met after I began writing and at a time when I wasn’t such a vague writer.

When I was little we rented a few places at an all-white, predominately Jewish beach in Old Lyme, Connecticut. It was just over an hour’s drive from our house in Longmeadow. I barely remember the places we rented, but I do remember when we got the one we owned. It was a run-down shack at the time and my parents fixed it up real nice in no time at all. It wasn’t too big of a cottage at all. About 600 square feet. It was in the shape of a square and had 4 bedrooms that were square to each other, a living room and eating area, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small enclosed porch in front. We used the first front bedroom as a den. Eventually, two walls were torn out so there was one big master bedroom and one other smaller bedroom and the den and living room became connected and formed an L shape.

I hated it there and I loved it there, but for the most part, I hated it. I had to deal with my mother’s abuse and I was always jealous of other kids cuz they got to stay up later, or cuz they could wear the clothes they wanted or their hair the way they wanted and I don’t know how many other mothers called their daughters fat pigs. At the same time most mothers believe their kids are the best and want to show them off and speak well of them, my mother was always wishing I could be like some other kid and she had a lot of negative things to say about me constantly.

We were 7 cottages away from the start of the beach and next to me, lived Andy and his family for the summer. Our parents were good friends for about 30 years until the mid-70s.

We were on a lot called KOMMS since 7 families bought the 7 cottages at once on this lot. The last names were the initials. The K’s had a 2-story cottage. All the other cottages were the same size as ours.

My mother always made Tammy and I spend the day on the beach unless it was raining and I hated that. I’d want to go back and listen to music and just be alone, besides sleeping in, but Ma wouldn’t have it.

Some of the happier times I remember are when Nana and Pa, my mom’s parents, would come down from time to time and stay with us for a few days. July 4th fireworks were always nice as were the weekly movies they’d have a night on the beach and all the games they’d have a few streets down on Hartford Ave. Our street was Breen Ave.

Later…

I’ll continue on with the beach later, but Robin’s so full of it already! They just came home next door blaring that car stereo and I could hear it in the kitchen. That definitely would’ve woken me up and I couldn’t have been dreaming the other day. Oh, I’m so fucking pissed! Doesn’t this guy get it? If I get woken up one more time, I’m gonna go over there and talk to him.

Sunday, April 14, 1996

 

Why is it that I’ve got this burning feeling that it was due to my prayers to God that Tom and I just ended up having the fight we had? Is this what I get for praying? Why is it that every time I pray, trouble happens? Gee, let me guess - it must be cuz I’m praying for no-nos. Every time I try to restore my lost faith in God, shit happens, so I guess he and Tom have finally won cuz I now really see the definite connection.

It started when I lived out a certain fantasy that he agreed to go along with. I pretended that he came along with me and then he said I looked upset after a few minutes. I tried to tell him I was OK but he went on and on. This finally blew me up and I asked him why he has to spoil a fantasy that if I can get used to it, I just may not need the real thing as much. He promised to go along with it, go with the flow, and not ask questions, yet he did. This is after making me promise to go along with him, go with the flow, and don’t ask questions.

Then he had the nerve to tell me that he’s sorry if I only want him just for a baby, that I’m being selfish, and that I shouldn’t feel he’s a liar for promising us a kid over a year ago. He said he meant it when he said all those times he’d be cumming, cuz he had no idea we’d fight so much over the subject. How convenient.

Then he said that the reason why he doesn’t want to get help now is cuz he feels that’d ruin our marriage cuz that’d be implying to him that I didn’t trust him enough to give him a chance. Trying to tell him otherwise, didn’t do a damn bit of good. He swears that in a year from now, it’ll be enough time put in of trying on our own. Yeah, right. Then he’ll just say another year is all he needs. I know him.

He also said that in his opinion, he doesn’t feel I’ve suffered since being here and that it was all coming from me. So, this is how much he can understand me and feel into my heart and see into my mind, huh? Are all the pages of suffering, sadness and desperation I’ve written all in my head, then? Like I don’t have a reason to suffer and feel like he’s lied to me and hurt me? It’s all in my head? I’m being selfish?

Resigning to the fact that he’s gonna be saying the same thing about not cumming and not having a kid 30 years from now, I finally just told him what he wanted to hear. I said I was sorry for being selfish by wanting a kid and I was sorry for calling him a lair after promising we’d have a kid and he’d cum so many times since we met and that I’d continue to do my best to snuff any feelings about feeling not good enough sexually and about the kid and not talk about it.

Then he said he didn’t want me to keep my emotions bottled up. Well, hey, you can’t have it both ways. If I talk, it just gets him upset and then we both get upset and that’s how fights start.

He also told me that I wasn’t thinking of him sexually and what he wants and that I was only out to please myself and that he’s sorry I’ve got to have a kid right now. Well, then if he’s so happy the way he is in bed, why does he keep insisting that he wants to change and that he wants to cum and make it better? This tells me all the more that he doesn’t want to cum. And if I’m wrong for wanting a kid right now, then why is he not wrong for saying that he does want one now?

Year after year the guy’s gonna have one excuse after another as to why he can’t cum and swear he will and that we will have a kid. I can’t keep playing this game and I’ve got to get on birth control. It’s the only way I can get him to stop playing with me about the kid. It’s the only thing left I can do to save what’s left of our marriage. I’ll still feel like I’m not good enough sexually and he probably won’t cum to cover the truth and make me think that he wasn’t afraid of getting me pregnant, but I just can’t keep going through this. With me on the pill, it’ll relax me enough cuz I won’t have to worry about him promising me a kid that I can’t have for sure on the pill and I’ll be able to deal with those emotions of being angry toward him a lot better. The kid is the biggest thing we fight about, so eliminating any way that I feel he could be teasing me or lying to me about that will help a lot. Then he can realize that I don’t just want him for a kid, but I’m sure he knows this anyway. The man’s not stupid. He just thinks I am. I mean, why would I want to play cards with him and do things with him and wish he were here more if I only wanted him for a kid? Why wouldn’t I just go entertain my own self in another room and ignore him if that was all I wanted from him?

Anyway, tomorrow I’ll make the appointment for birth control and hope I don’t have any side effects from it.

He still insists that if we could go two weeks without discussing the kid, he’d cum and we’d have sex more often. Yeah, right! Do you know how many other things that he’s insisted would help him that we did that didn’t help him? The only reason why he doesn’t want to discuss it is cuz he doesn’t want a kid and the subject scares him and turns him off.

I’m sorry I called him names, I’m sorry I screamed at him, but I can’t buy anything he says anymore. He’s just too contradictory and he just can’t put his actions where his mouth is most of the time.

I’m just gonna get on the pill and try to not let the thought of not having a kid get to me as much as I can. As well as my anger towards him or feelings of not being good enough for him. I shouldn’t feel like I’m not good enough for him after all. It’s his fucking choice to not cum. It isn’t my fault. Why do I feel the need to blame and punish myself for things that aren’t my fault?

He still says he’d prefer me not to be on birth control, but that if I felt it’d help me - go for it. I can see just how upset he is about the idea. There goes his #1 thing to bullshit me about and I’m sure he’s gonna do stuff to make me feel punished for taking his fun away from him and I’m sure he’s gonna pretend that my taking birth control is really making our sex lives way more miserable than ever. I ain’t gonna fall for it.

I’ve got to stop fighting God. I’ll just let him hate me and succumb to doing what he wants me to do.

I’m gonna prove Tom a liar yet again, though. I’m gonna go the two weeks without bringing up the subject and prove to him that that won’t be his cure to cumming and that he never will cum. Of course, then he’ll say something like, “I never said that,” or “I didn’t mean exactly two weeks. I need more like a month. Besides, it’s cuz of the birth control.” Well, I’ll just have to remember that if Tom says he wants a kid to tell him that’s selfish of him, rather than call him a liar.

As far as Robin goes? I don’t ever ever want her near me again. Don’t want to talk to her, don’t want to know her.

He also says he doesn’t want me to dance cuz he doesn’t want me to do anything that doesn’t make me happy. He means that doesn’t make him happy. Dancing had its drawbacks, but I certainly wasn’t unhappy about it. Besides, if he didn’t want me doing anything that made me unhappy, then why leave me childless all my life?

In the end, just like always, Tom will get his way. I’ll tell you this much, though. I’m not gonna work. So there’s one thing I’ll be doing that’ll make me happy. Just cuz I can’t do what I want doesn’t mean I’m gonna settle and go for second best and do something just cuz it’s all I can do. Tom’s gotten and will always get what he wants from me and now it’s my turn. Since I can’t get what I really want from him, other than his love, he’s gonna have to support me all his life. He at least owes me that much.

There is one other thing that happened and I will admit that this was my fault. Well, when I was screaming, he jumped up at me really quick to take hold of my arm to calm me down cuz his ears were hurting and you don’t do that to me. Not with my past. So, I kicked him in the balls and slapped him, then was prepared to do something much worse and pretty terrible to him when it hit me that he just might have no intention of attacking me and that he was just trying to calm me. So I ran out of the room and told myself that if he followed I’d put his lights out, but he never did. Yes, this was very wrong of me to assume that he’d be like others have been and I should’ve realized his true intentions since the man has not one violent bone in his body and could never hurt me. I told him I was so very sorry and that I’m glad I didn’t go any further. I would’ve hated to have to live with that guilt. I feel guilt, unlike most others. If only Tom would feel guilty about his big black lie to me, but if he doesn’t now, he never will. It’s a real damn shame, though, that such an otherwise great guy can have such a clear conscience about what he’s doing to me. It should be scary to me, but it isn’t. Just sad and infuriating.

In truth, yes, 90-something percent of me knew he didn’t spring up to attack me, but I guess I honestly used this as an excuse to get some of my anger out on him physically, even though I had no intentions of literally dogging him unless he or anyone else’s intentions were to do that to me. I’ve had many thoughts of beating on him and he says he doesn’t understand how I could always be angry at him about this, but how can I not? It’s not a little casual white lie that he’s told me. He lied to me in a big way about something that meant a lot to me and that I was counting on us doing.

If my screaming was really hurting his ears, then all the more reason why I can see he doesn’t want a kid. Kids scream all the time.

I know my life is over, in a sense, and that I have no purpose in this life but to please him and I guess I’ll just have to love him for what he is and take the life I’ve got, seeing that it could be much worse. I don’t have to work, I don’t have to be in Valleyhead again or live with my parents. All I have to do is give him what he wants and he wants no kid. Women forgive their husbands all the time for cheating on them and I know I’d forgive Tom if he did that to me, so I’ll just have to work on transforming my anger into forgiving him.

Later…

OK, this is the scoop. I reaffirmed that Tom says yes, two weeks without discussing a kid is his cure-all to being able to cum. When he doesn’t after those two weeks, then I make the appointment for birth control. Not cuz I fear I can get pregnant and don’t want to, but to help ease off some of this anger I feel towards him since on birth control I can’t accuse him of lying about getting me pregnant.

When I begin PMSing, I’ll take this Midol I got that’s supposed to ease the physical symptoms, but unfortunately not the emotional ones. Like Tom said, though, when you feel better physically, you feel better emotionally. I should think the pill will help me feel better emotionally cuz it should lessen the PMS and the period itself. That’s what it says in the encyclopedia.

I just realized something that’s a total first. We screwed today and today I’m mid-cycle. I guess I am anyway. How amazing. If he could cum, though, and if my plumbing was okay, how many months would it take to hit it right, I wonder?

Yesterday I did give them a note next door, knowing that they’d never just turn the car stereo down on their own. I thanked them for being my “dream neighbors” as they are quiet in all other ways and asked if they could just please cut the car stereo volume upon coming and going cuz we sleep weird hours. I also told them that the last family that lived there was pretty wild and that I really appreciate their quietness and that they could come to join us for coffee anytime they liked. Also, if they were still looking for a babysitter, check next door to them on the other side cuz they do daycare. Lastly, let me know if my music gets too loud.

It’s too soon to tell, but so far they’ve been cool and they came in with the stereo going really soft. Not enough at all to wake me up.

As I went to put the note in their mail slot, Joely, as I found out is her name, was on her way out and took the note from me.

I could be way off base with my presumption here, but I kind of get the feeling that they’re a Dave and Barb I type. He seems calm, collected and passive and she seems like she could be a snotty, aggressive bitch. All she said was her name when I approached her, then said “Okay” when she took the note and then I walked back here. As I was opening the front door to come in, I glanced back and noticed her watching me with a blank expression. If it meant anything, I have no idea. Then, a few minutes later I was in the music room as she was on her way out and thought I heard her say something like “I don’t care,” in a sure way, but not softly, loudly, or angrily. She was talking to Mike, obviously, but who knows what’s really on their minds or what they’re gonna do?

The weekend’s not over yet, so we’ll see, but I have a feeling I’m not gonna get that transformer or that bird perch after this morning’s fight.

Oh, how I just want to go back to those days when a kid was the last thing on my mind. I really, really do! I should be praying to God for that. That’s something he’d love me for and would happily agree with. Then again, maybe not. I think he wants to punish me and make me have these feelings of hurt and anger. If I got over it, he’d go do something else. I should remind myself that I’d be just as miserable, maybe more, if we had a kid. It’s like trying to quit smoking. It’s just swapping in one misery for another. God would make sure that motherhood really did make me miserable and ruin our marriage or stick something else in my life for me to be punished by and feel sad and pissed.

Monday, April 15, 1996

 

Now I know why I haven’t heard from Jenny C. I called and Sandy answered. She was bummed out at being stuck at home bored since she was suddenly laid off from work. That sucks. She then gave me an 800# to call Larry at work, so I did. As I’ve heard, he’s been swamped. He said he’s sorry he hasn’t called, don’t think he’s blown me off, but he’s been so busy. I understand. Anyway, I finally asked him if Jenny just wanted a quick $5 from us or got cold feet and it turns out that her mother died. Her mother was an alcoholic, so I’m sure that’s got something to do with it.

Tuesday, April 16, 1996

 

I sent a letter to Gloria’s fan club asking them to please speed things up. Also, I asked if there was any way they had a catalog where we could pick out pictures and how big we’d like them to be.

Tom apologized for saying that all I wanted from him was a kid and he admitted that he knows I’m strong and is sorry he sprung up at me to try to get my attention to calm me down. He’s sorry cuz I saw my mother and other people who sprang at me with violent intentions and I’m sorry for jumping the gun myself.

It’s done and over with in our books and we hope to just move on. I promised to work on not screaming so loud when I get angry and he said he’d just leave or something, rather than try to calm me down till I’m ready to calm down on my own.

We played cards last night but didn’t have sex. I have to wait until the weekend, as usual. I told myself, “Don’t do it. That’s stupid of you to wait and see if he cums after 14 days of not discussing a kid, cuz you know he won’t. Just get on birth control now.”

However, if I get on it now, he’ll use that as an excuse for why he didn’t cum. Like you need your woman not to be on birth control to cum, right? So, I’ll just wait and see what other excuses he uses, then call for it.

A couple of days ago Tom was telling me that during childbirth, your hips become lubricated by a certain hormone and that only during childbirth do your hips spread in a way that they normally can’t. That must be why someone my size can have a baby naturally. I didn’t know that. He knows a lot about this subject, that’s for sure.

A bird landed in the window again yesterday and this time he managed to hang on for a few minutes. I have a new all-brown bird, that’s different from the chicken pigeon who has white on the very back of him. I also have a new smaller Measles pigeon and yesterday I noticed a band around one leg. It looks like there are one or two small round rubber or plastic blue bands and one white plastic one that’s about ¼ inch wide. I saw the upside-down number 17 on it. Tom said it could’ve been someone who was raising it or that the government banded it for a study on where they travel to or something like that.

Later…

I spoke with Andy earlier and tomorrow or the next day I might be going over to work on his cat some more after he gets up.

I’m gonna put a note out tomorrow for the mailman telling him I understand how confusing it must be to keep track of Drive vs. Ave. However, I ask that they please ensure proper mail delivery, cuz we’ve both gotten each other’s mail. It’s not that I mind getting Irene W’s mail, it’s that I’m afraid our mail is being misdelivered and I’m so sick of this shit. The call to the post office didn’t work, so hopefully this will.

I did an interesting thing with my nails. I polished every other one red and the others purple. On the purple ones I made a red slash and on the red ones I made blue slashes. My parents would love it!

Now I’ll backtrack a little more. Like I said, life at the beach wasn’t too thrilling. Most of the time, since I had to be on the beach, I’d go off into my own little world and go climb on some of the rocks that divided the beaches, etc. I guess there’s not much more to say about the beach, so now I’ll go on to discuss when I left home for the first time. That was in late July of 1981.

Before I go back to 1981, let me just say that next door, just like next door to them, seems to be like most people. You ask them something nicely and they don’t give a fuck and they’re gonna do what they want to do, anyway.

Why do I have to get blacks next to me who blast that obnoxious rap music? Well, it was only for a minute and it wasn’t loud enough to wake me up, but it wasn’t soft, either. I was out back before the 7:00 movie smoking a cigarette when I heard Joely and some guy yelling at each other. I think they were yelling at each other, anyway, and all I could make out were the words, “Not my baby!” from Joely.

So, then I came back in a few minutes before 7:00 and as one of them was leaving, the music started and I said to myself that if they didn’t pull out and leave by the time the movie started I was gonna go out there and give them a piece of my mind, but they left. If I knew I’d only hear their music and nothing else for a minute here and there at that same volume, I could relax, but I don’t know that they’re gonna say - what the fuck and blast it enough to where the bass and drums wake me up if I’m asleep. I think it’s gonna take me the rest of 1996 to relax about them if nothing gets worse than it has been and I certainly can’t trust Robin. Not with her lying about my getting pregnant soon.

I think they just left, and yes, they left quietly, but I’m wondering if they aren’t gonna be company freaks. I noticed an aqua-colored car there this morning and that was it. So, if they’re both there and they both have their own cars, who knows? That’s 4 different color cars I’ve seen over there. Aqua, black, blue and red.

I haven’t heard the kid and they still have no dog which is great, but I’m still so nervous about them, not knowing for sure what they’re gonna do. Are they gonna have a big party and have an outdoor barbecue with all kinds of music and other noise?

Okay, in July of 1981, I was sent to the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont where I stayed till December of that year. It was hell there, but not as bad as places I’d be in after this. This place was for drug and alcohol users and there was an adult psychiatric ward as well as one for adolescents where I was since I was 15 at the time.

My mother made it sound like a country club, but she said the doctors were the ones that made it sound like a country club. Whatever. All I know is that, like Valleyhead, they didn’t make you feel any better about yourself or your situation and their attitude was that the kids were fucked up and the parents were perfect.

The floor I was on was in the shape of a huge L. We each had our own room and there were about 30 kids there, both girls and boys. There was a rec room, a porch, 2-3 staff meeting rooms, the nurse’s station, a lounge area, bathrooms, and shower rooms. All the windows had bars, and the glass was Plexiglas. Only the windows in rooms down at the end of a long hallway had real glass.

Even though this place was a nightmare, there was more freedom and less strict rules there. You could have all the money you wanted and if you got on restriction, that didn’t mean you couldn’t go in your room or only have 4 cigarettes a day like at Valleyhead. Sometimes if you were on restriction, you were made to go to your room or you couldn’t use the phone or watch TV.

I had a tough caseworker there and she made me have only 6 cigarettes a day cuz of my asthma. She said it was cuz of my asthma, but my asthma wasn’t bad then and it was really out of spite and power play. She didn’t like me very much. Guess it was cuz she thought I was wimpy. The staff could be like students in the way that they favored the tougher ones. Margaret M and Barbara D at Valleyhead were like that.

At one point I was also only allowed in my room twice a day for a half-hour each, once they saw that I liked to be alone more often than most others.

When they caught me smoking in the rec room, they restricted me from going in there. Then they caught me smoking on the porch and restricted me from going there. Then they caught me smoking in my room, so they took my door down. Then they caught me smoking in the closet in my room and they took that door down. Finally, they caught me smoking in the bathroom and shower room and they couldn’t restrict me from going in there, so I had to go in there with a staff member.

When I finally got out of there, I went home to the house in Longmeadow. By this time Tammy and Larry were long gone and my father’s mother, Bella, was living with us. She came to live with us before we moved from the first house in Longmeadow. She had been living in California and she had a stroke.

The following April, 4 months later, I became a ward of the state.

From that December to April I attended an alternative high school in Springfield which I liked. It only had about 5 teachers and about 10 students. We could get away with murder there. We could skip class, go outside, and do drugs, and even our bus driver smoked pot with us.

Jenny got me into cigarettes and pot at age 13 and I smoked pot about 30 times here and there till the final time when I was 21 and had a bad experience with it like I did when I was 16. The pot had either been laced or just didn’t go with whatever meds I was on at those times.

In April I was taken to Emergency Services in Springfield and stood there at the crisis center for about 3 days. This was the very same crisis center I was in for a couple of days when I was 21 and got taken to court for prank-calling in 1989.

From there I went to LaRagione’s in Springfield. This place was originally owned by Kate LaRagione who was Anna’s mother. I was there till about June and Anna and Harry wanted to be my foster parents till I was 18, but the state wouldn’t allow that and neither would my parents since they wanted me in a long-term residential school.

I loved it with Anna and Harry so much and felt so loved, wanted and understood. I don’t remember what in the world made me cut myself before I left there, but I know it had to do with the threats they were making about taking me away from them and placing me in a school.

I remember being in my social worker’s office when the men in white coats came in and took me to Northampton. The state funny farm, and man, was I lucky to get out of there alive! What a nightmare this place was and talk about no privacy and being surrounded by lunatics! An old lady would hit me over the head with her pocketbook. Another one would masturbate in the bed across from me in my cubicle.

They gave you cigarettes every hour if you didn’t have your own, but you weren’t allowed to have any matches or lighters. Also, this wasn’t the type of place where you could bring a stereo or anything else of personal items. You were made to wear hospital gowns and you were watched every second like a hawk. The bathroom stalls had no doors on them, there were no mirrors anywhere and you couldn’t even take a shower in privacy. The shower stalls weren’t private much like in a prison.

I was there for 8 days, but when I first got there I filled out a 3-4 day notice to leave. Even my parents were furious that I’d been taken there. When my notice to leave was denied, all I was doing was sitting on my bed crying. I didn’t hurt anything, anyone or myself, yet they took and tied me down to a small bed in a small room by my wrists and ankles for 2-3 days. I naturally tried to fight them off as hopeless as it was. When I needed to pee or shit, they’d bring a bedpan and I was fed by someone from a tray. Once they untied one arm and I punched that person, so they tied me back up and fed me themselves and it was amazing that the person feeding me didn’t choke me to death with the way they were shoveling the food into my mouth.

Later…

Wow! I was just in the pool. I went in the Jacuzzi first and little by little, I got used to that and ducked under once. Then, I swam up and down the main pool once. It was pretty cold at first and that 72º water felt like 30º. It’s windy out there, too, so I was quite chilled upon coming out of the water.

I was in Valleyhead from August 1982 to August 1984 when I graduated. It was a big mansion in Lenox, MA. Aside from Northampton, this was the worst place I was in as a minor. There were 2 or 4 or 6 girls in a room, but usually 4. The rules and restrictions there were heavy-duty and there was very little free time, except on weekends.

When I was 17 and there for 8 months, I jumped out a window and broke my arm. I felt trapped and just totally panicked. I felt like I’d never get out of there.

I don’t really want to spend too much time on Valleyhead as I know I’ve already covered enough about it here and there.

I went home in August of 1984 to my parent’s house. By this time Nana Bella was dead. She died when I was 17 and my mom’s parents died 6 months apart from each other when I was 19. So, it was me, my parents, Tammy and her first kid Lisa who was only about 1 at this time. I lived there for about 16 months and it was always me against Mom, Dad and Tammy and them against me for the most part. Still, I had freedom and privacy. Tammy took over my old room, Lisa was in Nana’s old room and the last of the 4 bedrooms was a den. I lived in the cellar.

Later…

Holy shit! Nervous is dead! I can’t believe he’s actually dead. When I was hanging out by the pool, I heard a cough that sort of reminded me of his nervous cough, so I called information to see if he finally had a phone. There was no listing for a Kevin T, so I called his mother to see if I could get any information from her and she said Nervous died of a sudden heart attack last September. She said they didn’t know what caused it and by the time he got to the hospital, he was gone.

This actually made me cry for a little while there. He was a nervous, obnoxious weirdo, but it’s still too bad that he had to go this way when he just turned 54. And he used to say that he had 20-30 years left when we met when I was 21 and he was 45 and that he’d live to be in the 80s just like his dad.

It goes to prove Tom’s point when he said that usually, it’s those that have no history of heart problems that die suddenly from heart problems. He told me this after I told him how I worry that mom will suddenly call saying that dad died. Nervous never had any heart problems that I knew of, so it’s got to be nerve-related. He was always so nervous.

Friday, April 19, 1996

 

I got a letter from Sarah a couple of days ago and soon I’ll send her a letter. I have a letter going out to Larry today and I decorated the envelope with animals and flowers.

I haven’t heard a peep out of next door since I heard them at 7:00 that evening when they gave me a minute’s worth of their rap music. They seem to leave early in the morning and return in the early evening.

I wonder if just Mike lives there since I never see more than one care there at once. I don’t think the kid lives there after all since I never hear it.

Robin still tries to come around and assure me that all will be fine with next door and that she’s not lying when she says I’ll be pregnant soon, but I just tell her to go away.

Tom wants me to write a short story and a poem for him. Should I not do something he asked of me that I said yes to in order to give him a taste of his own medicine? I’ll think about it.

I knew Tom was lying when he said he couldn’t hold back from cumming and that if he cums, he cums suddenly without warning.

When Andy gets together with Quinn, he tells me all about it and he confirms what I always knew when he brought up how they’d hold back to enjoy it longer and how they knew when they were gonna cum.

I can’t believe what a bad liar Tom is and how dumb he thinks I am.

How can I ever forgive Tom or not be angry with him for never allowing me to have a child? All I can do is know it and accept it. I couldn’t believe it when he said I shouldn’t be angry with him cuz we don’t have a kid after he’s said so many times that we would, but then again, I can believe it. He’ll say the most far-out things or be the bad liar he is when it comes to a kid and making excuses to not have a kid.

There’s always got to be someone in my life to help God control me, or take something away from me, or to stop me from getting things and there’s never a damn thing I can do about it. Part of me wishes I was either in denial about what he’s doing or that I could believe him when he says he wants a kid and isn’t doing anything to prevent that. Then the truth would hit me harder in the end, so maybe I should know what he’s doing.

Later…

Speaking of believing - it’s still hard to believe Nervous is dead. One minute I’m not thinking about it and the next it pops into my head.

Tom was really helpful yesterday. He listened with understanding, and supportive patience while I told him all about it. At least I’ll always have his edits, like Tom said, even though Nervous really did hate those edits with a passion.

Later…

Here’s another reason why I’m so sure Tom beats off, besides the fact that he’s human and has to relieve it somehow.

Andy told me that he beats off prior to seeing Quinn in case he can’t have sex with him. Andy took care of Quinn last night for 3 hours and he said he took care of himself, so he could just take care of Quinn which gives him great pleasure. He also says he jerks off before meeting a guy in case he’s cute and can’t have him so he won’t be overly horny. So Tom figures he doesn’t want to cum cuz he doesn’t want a kid, but he won’t tell me that, so he relieves himself whenever.

Tom’s parents are really doing badly, and he even told me how worried he is and how preoccupied his mind is, so all the more he won’t cum, along with reasons that deal with just us. I’m sorry his parents are dying, but lots of people maintain normal sex lives while their parents are dying. Even if there were no worries and nothing going on, there’s still his underlying fear of having a kid. He doesn’t want it as well as is scared of it.

I keep telling myself that this two-week cure-all is bullshit, just like everything else he’s said would help, so go get on birth control, but I will soon enough. I’ll bet he’ll use his parents as the perfect excuse after two weeks of my not bringing it up. What’s he gonna do when his parents die? Tell the truth? No. There’ll be something else.

Saturday, April 20, 1996

 

Not much has happened today and I’ve been bored for the most part. Maybe I should work on a story or find some kind of project, but I haven’t hit upon anything yet that I’d really like to do. I guess I’ll go start Sarah’s letter.

Tom’s been out all day working on his aunt’s trailer pipes and at his parent’s, so hopefully he’ll be home soon.

Later…

I believe tomorrow will be day 5 or 6 of not bringing up the issue of a kid. If it isn’t my imagination, then it seems we’ve had more sex since I began doing this which is about all he’ll give me for this. He knows I’m doing this too, so all the more, I’m gonna get teased in some way and he’ll be laughing to himself when this is over.

He got $60 for working at Evelyn’s and he stopped by his parents’ place to help them out, too.

He put up the bird perch using an old curtain rod. No, a shoe rack rod. We put some seed on the windowsill, so hopefully they’ll see it soon enough. It’s right by the back window.

Tom’s in the bathroom now taking a shower and beating off so we can have “safe sex” in a while.

Tomorrow we’re going to his parents’ place.

Later…

Tom’s unwinding now, and then he’ll be going to bed.

We had sex for quite a long time, and surprisingly, it took me forever to cum.

I haven’t been able to think of any ideas for a short story or poem.

Yesterday I drew a neat picture of Gloria where she’s in a mirror and you can see her twice. Tom liked it, but I didn’t, so I’m just gonna stick it on my parents.

I’m sitting with Tom right now in his favorite chair as he unwinds.

Later…

They just got in next door and they did so very quietly. I only heard one door shut and no kid, so I’m sure it’s just Mike.

We’ve had two spiders in here today and it’s that time of year to bomb, so we will soon.

Sunday, April 21, 1996

 

Just got done watching TV and now I may do some drawing before hitting the sack.

Sometime soon I’ll have to get back over to Andy’s to work on the wall cat some more.

Thank God Nervous didn’t die in July. Last July was when Robin began visiting and with her bullshit lately, I might’ve ended up wondering if she was really Nervous if Nerv’s mom said he died in July.

I mean, I don’t know what to make of Robin anymore. Yes, she’s been right about next door being fine and Tom does seem hornier, but I couldn’t be pregnant soon, any more than I could be tall soon, so I don’t get her anymore. I’d just assume she stay away.

She was also right about saying she’d always watch over me no matter what as I sense her presence occasionally. I just tell her to go away.

She usually likes to come when I first get in bed where my mind isn’t as occupied and where my body is more relaxed. Here is where she either gives me messages or just visits with me for what seems to be for the hell of it.

Monday, April 22, 1996

 

Boy, have I been having kid dreams. The night before last, I think the dream was about my talking to a doctor about having a kid. I don’t think I was pregnant, but I could’ve been. Last night’s dream was about birth control. I got some IUD or something that you insert inside you and I think it was starting to fall out at one point. I remember the doctor asking if they could do something that’d permanently sterilize me and I nodded yes. So, why I had this thing inside me, beats me.

Last night is when the dead-set strong vibe set in that this two-week thing is bullshit, even though I already knew this. So, maybe last night’s dream was a sign saying, “Yes, you’re right about him being full of shit, so get on birth control. It’ll help you.”

I like how I read that birth control makes your periods more regular and how it eases the period and cramps and hopefully the PMS, too, and hopefully there’ll be no side effects.

Earlier, I was sitting at the kitchen table when I heard a car stereo. I jumped up, pissed as hell and ready to haul off at next door, but it wasn’t them. It was some car passing by. They haven’t been there since about last Friday.

Bob should be calling in about 15 minutes. I sent him a letter about 5 days ago telling him to call collect.

The night before last, Robin came around again. She was all sad that I don’t want anything to do with her and she still insisted that she’s not lying. Also, that Nervous is with her and that he doesn’t hate me. He’s looking out for me, but won’t bother me. That’s nice, cuz that’s all I’d need is for him to bother me.

Yesterday we went over to his parent’s house. Ma showed me how she has tons and tons of material and I had brought over the back of the chair we sit on at the computer. The back of it is like a director’s chair and it rips, then I sew it, and back and forth. So, I picked out a blue floral print and she made a new back and I helped. It looks so professional.

Later…

Bob called and we talked for about 20 minutes. Besides his usual of how he’s worried about Kim and wants to see her, he told me that he’s on medical watch cuz of his heart and that he has an appeal going through. He said he won’t know anything till June or July.

Yesterday at Mom and Dad’s, Mom’s brother Johnny came over with his wife Marie and their grandson. Marie’s from Mexico so her secondary language is Spanish which we gabbed a little in. Johnny had told Marie he was glad there was someone shorter in the family than Marie, but I’m an inch taller than Marie.

I promised Andy I’d mention this. At around 2:00 that afternoon when I was at Mom and Dad’s, Andy claims to have been thinking about how Nervous and I would gab in Spanish at the same time Marie and I were. A connection? Who knows?

Later…

Tom and I were just discussing how we could afford for me to go to a community college and go through their vocal programs without having to take math and all that other bullshit. Classes start in September, but can I ever get my schedule normal once and for all in order to go? This would be great for me and a great way to continue trying to get over never having a kid.

I also blew my two-week thing where I wasn’t supposed to mention a kid or cumming, but that’s OK. He was never gonna cum anyway and now it’s time to make the call for birth control tomorrow.

Later…

There’s still no one next door. In a sense, these people are weirder than the M family. I mean, where do they go so often? Where do they sleep? Aren’t they fully moved in? Are they just using that house for something illegal, like manufacturing drugs?

Anyway, I know I said I was gonna call for birth control, but I’m not cuz I’m gonna do what Tom wants, as usual. Besides, Tom’s probably right when he said that the side effects would be more than the benefits I just think I’ll get out of it. Yeah, God’s determined to really hit me hard with this. He’s not gonna let me escape it. He really wants to shove it in my face and tease me with it.

I believe those that believe that there’s a reason for everything and that after we die, we find out why things happened or didn’t happen. I just wish I knew why now. All I have are my theories. God’s either punishing me or trying to save my life and marriage. Which is it? Could it be both?

Tuesday, April 23, 1996

 

I might be going over to Andy’s tonight after he gets off work to work more on the cat.

Later…

Those stupid, stupid fucks next door! You can’t even ask someone nicely to do you a small simple little favor. Everyone in this world is so fucking selfish, it’s pitiful. They just can’t deal with turning their stereo down or off 30 seconds before driving up and parking their car. They just have to blare it up in between the houses. People either don’t do anything you ask of them or make false promises. Was my asking them to turn the stereo down upon coming and going that big of a deal? Is it really such a hard thing for them to do? Do they only give a shit about themselves? Obviously so and I’ve decided I’m not gonna worry about blaring my music and if they complain - tough shit unless they turn theirs down. They don’t blare it when they come and go early or late, but if I had been asleep, it probably would’ve woken me up and I’m not gonna go through that shit all over again of having to get up when neighbors say so.

We talked over the last couple of days and I told Tom that I feel he does too many things he says I shouldn’t do. I asked him if he was punishing me by not having sex with me cuz I’ve needed to talk over the last couple of days. He said he was reluctant to cuz he was afraid of what the consequences may be. I reminded him of how he advised me not to have any preconceived ideas of the outcome of things, so why does he? He says don’t let life’s events control the things I do. Then why can’t we have sex or do whatever else after we’ve had discussions? Well, at least he went down on me, but when I went to do him by hand, he only got semi-hard.

I feel he’s contradicting and confusing, too, when he says don’t try to control or manipulate my thoughts and don’t decide how I’m gonna act on them. He’s basically said not to hold things in, yet talking about certain things will “ruin all he’s worked on.” How could I have done that two-week thing, yet talk when I need to? How can not trying to control or manipulate my thoughts or feelings make me less angry or depressed like he says it will? So, basically he’s saying to talk about what I need to, yet he doesn’t want to talk about certain things cuz then he has them in his head, so he says, and it ruins what he’s been working for, which is nothing that I can see as far as sex goes. He says he’s not blaming me for his not cumming and us not having a kid, yet he is. He does blame me indirectly in several different ways.

Then he says he doesn’t want to wait till September to start a kid but suggests college at the same time as something to consider? He’s been saying for well over a year that he doesn’t want to wait, yet he doesn’t cum. So, I asked him, which is it? Do you want to start a kid or have me think about going to college? His answer is not to plan when and how things are gonna happen and to just let things play themselves out. A kid is never gonna “play itself out” as long as he remains the way he is and whether or not we plan it. He’s still all talk and no action who says that in his mind - we will have a kid. No. I know I won’t be pregnant by September or ever and I really want to check out some college in August and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I don’t know yet how I’m gonna manage to keep the schedule and I know next door’s gonna wake me up at least once a week.

Then fucking Robin had to come by last night and tell me that I was to be finding out I was pregnant by September and that college may be a good and right thing for me, but not in Sept. Yeah, right!

Boy, I’ll tell you, though, there’s nothing like having a husband and a spirit play with your head and tell you such tall tales!

Back to next door. What the fuck am I gonna do about them? It’s obvious that asking them nicely isn’t gonna do a damn bit of good (this is my compensation for the M’s being cool about my asking them to quiet down). If I smash their car or do anything to them, they’ll just get us back some way, so what do I do? Just resign to the fact that they’re gonna do this at least one or two times a week, maybe more in the future and hope to hell I sleep through it? Is that all I really can do? It pisses me off. It really pisses me the fuck off! I know it’s gonna be years before we move, so how many more families are gonna live there while we’re here creating whatever kind of noise? Are we ever gonna live in someplace like my sister lives? Are there any houses out here in Arizona that don’t have other houses 5 feet away from them that you don’t have to be rich to afford?

Wednesday, April 24, 1996

 

So far it’s been quiet all day and night. There might be someone next door cuz I can see a light on, but I couldn’t see any cars out there.

I bitched to Andy about it last night when he picked me up and he brought up a possibility I never thought of. He asked if she was ugly and I told him yes, she’s very ugly, as a matter of fact. Then he said that it might be her blaring the music and not him cuz she might be paranoid of my looks interesting Mike. Could this be why she blankly stared at me as I walked back here after handing her the note? She did seem rather cold when I first saw her. Maybe she just doesn’t like whites. Well, he did, after all, turn the music down when I first asked him and he was very polite and friendly. She, though, did seem like an aggressive bitch, even though she never spoke to me, other than to tell me my music wasn’t too loud and what her name was.

Then Andy bitched about his coworkers.

At Andy’s I got half the cat colored and he really loves it. I think I can finish it the next time I go. I’m glad he loves it so much, cuz personally, I think my cat in the music room is way better.

Tom said it could be someone visiting them, but then why didn’t Mike tell them to lower their music? He seems like the type that would. Tom also says not to worry unless they really do wake me up and he swears that I was really dreaming that day and that there was no music whatsoever. He says he’s seen all 3 of them come and go, and Mike come and go, but never her alone, and that they always would come and go quietly. I could’ve sworn the day I handed Joely that note, she had just come in with Mike and I could hear the music going.

Who knows for sure who it is and why, but if I get woken up, I am gonna have to think of something to do about it. Robin still insists I never need to worry. Also, I woke up wheezy 3 mornings ago and she told me that yesterday I wouldn’t wake up wheezy and that today I wouldn’t either and I didn’t. So, she’s been right about some things, but I still can’t imagine her and Tom being right about my being pregnant by September. That just seems too far-fetched and just so out of this world. A good 98% of my strong vibes have been right and it just seems so incredible. I feel I could bet my life on him cumming in me 10 times a day and still not conceiving. I just can’t imagine being made to eat my words on this one in the way that I was made to eat my words about when I met and married Tom, or even made it to Arizona.

I was right on two predictions. One of them was strong and one was light to medium. I told Tom a while back that I had a strong vibe he wouldn’t be on nights and that he was destined to stay on days at least for a while. Cuz the more you want something, the less likely you are to get it and cuz I still believe something wants to hold us back in life. Last Sunday night he asked if I had a sense of when he’d find out for sure and I told him Wednesday. Today, Wednesday, he was told he didn’t get it cuz they gave it to some part-time worker.

Then I went and wrote a list of a few things I felt would happen or not happen by September 1st. Here they are.

Strong - A raise or new/better job for Tom in June.

Medium/Strong - College or a job for me in September.

Strong - Will not be pregnant by Sept.

Medium - Tom’s dad will be alive in Sept.

Medium/Strong - There’ll be no chance till September to go to Florida.

Light/Medium - There’ll be major car problems or the car will die.

Medium - The number 10 and the color blue may have something to do with wherever Tom’s working in June.

Later…

Tom and I are still having sex more frequently, so that’s nice.

We got a package from my parents today containing a Phoenix Sun’s flag for Tom and a musical sequined cap for me.

Speaking of spirits, I saw an interesting movie called Voice from the Grave. It was about a singer who also worked at a hospital that was murdered by some guy who also worked there. Then there was some girl who worked there, too, but she and the murdered girl only spoke once for a few minutes. So, after the girl was killed she possessed the other girl and sent visions of her murder/murderer through her so she could help the police nab him and put him away.

I’ve believed spirits could contact humans and show them future stuff for a long time. I believe Robin’s been right about a lot of things she’s told me and I used to believe she was a good spirit, but I still find myself racking my brains, trying desperately to figure out why she’d lie to me suddenly. Just like Tom, she isn’t pulling off some petty little white lie, either. I also thought she said something about taking off for a while. Guess some family member who’s still alive in the East needs her more, but she’s been a regular around here.

The phone’s ringing now and I’m sure it’s Andy telling me all about this Chinese place I told him to check out. Why must he call me so much on his days off? He can really bug me at times. I’m just not into playing phone like I used to be and if he called once every 2 or 3 days, that’d be much better.

I made up tons of mashed potatoes today, cuz I wanted to make them before they rooted, so I think I’ll go have a plateful now.

Thursday, April 25, 1996

 

I just sewed up Andy’s torn apron pocket and now I’m gonna go try to call him.

Later…

For the first time in a while, I was in the mood to gab on the phone. Andy called me with Michelle on the line, then we added Brad who’s a potential date for Andy. Andy mentioned going to the China Doll to Brad and I guess Brad asked to meet him there. Andy said no cuz he thinks he looks shitty today. Anyway, Andy thinks Brad secretly went to check Andy out.

So, I read a bunch of bullshit to Brad. I randomly grabbed Journal 17 from 1991 and began my line-mixing routine.

I’m wondering - should I read back on all my journals now, or wait 10-20 years? Whenever I read them, I’d still like to time it and see how long it takes to read however many I’ve got at the time.

Later…

I am so bloated now and my tits really hurt. I can’t make my period arrive any faster, so I guess I’ll go take a Midol. The problem with taking them during the day is that they make me so damn drowsy.

Later…

I took a Midol last night but didn’t fall asleep right away. However, after I took one after being up a few hours today, I fell asleep for two hours.

Andy’s having trouble with his EC. He says it just blows hot air which means the water level is either too low or there’s something wrong with the pump. Tom says for me to tell him that if he or his landlord can’t fix it, he’ll go over there this weekend and check it out.

From what Andy described, his landlord is a lot like Russ was. An older friendly guy, but one lazy ass. A cheap one, too, like Seelig was about the heat. He wouldn’t even take the time out or pay someone to put in Andy’s new security door. Andy had to get Quinn to do it.

Tom’s really tired so he’s gonna be crashing in a little while.

There’s not too much to watch on TV tonight, but I might check out a movie later. I listened to music earlier and I’ve been playing Ballistic on and off.

I’m still a bit drowsy from the Midol. I can’t really say for sure if that Midol even helps. My tits are still sore and I’m still kind of water bloated. I’m up to 100 pounds.

I got a letter from Bob today and of course, he had nothing new to tell me. He did mention something kind of strange to me. He said that he was made to rip up the 200 letters he had and flush them down the toilet. He’s only allowed to have letters for 24 hours, then he’s made to rip them up. Why? I asked him why and he said he didn’t know. Sounds like they’re just doing it to piss him off. I can’t think of any other reason and neither can he.

Last night I had a strong vibe that there was a spider or there were spiders in the little closet by the garage door. So, Tom’s gonna check it out before he goes to bed.

Friday, April 26, 1996

 

Since the night I went to Andy’s, I’ve heard no music from next door. So, I’m sure that this means that before the weekend’s over, they’ll come blasting in. They seem to do this about once a week. I’ve seen a light on in their living room tonight and last night, but I can’t see if there are any cars out there. They seem to go to bed at 11:00. That’s when the lights go off. Someone has come and gone over the last couple of days and whoever did so did quietly, which I appreciate.

Andy’s had amazing luck. Hopefully, he’ll be surprised as I was when I found out I was coming here and when I met and married Tom. So far he has been surprised, though.

Well, he met that guy Brad that I mentioned before and he says Brad’s gorgeous and that Brad was also attracted to Andy. Brad says he’s looking for a serious relationship too, with just one person, so hopefully this is it for Andy.

Well, God didn’t and never will answer my prayers for a baby, but hopefully he’s answered my prayer for him to give Andy a break and send him the right guy cuz he deserves it.

Hopefully, Brad isn’t bullshitting Andy and isn’t only out for sex. Hopefully, he’s serious. This sounds really promising and I told Andy I had a good vibe. Plus, it seems logical that if they’re both attracted to each other and want the same thing, it should work out, as long as Brad’s serious and not putting Andy on.

I’m so happy for Andy if this really is his Mr. Right.

I started to watch a movie, but it sucked. When I’m in the mood for TV, nothing’s on, but when I have a million other things to do, there’s good stuff on. There’ll be 3 or 4 good movies on at once or none at all, and of course we only have two VCRs.

Andy said his landlord did get over there today and he said what Tom and I figured was the problem with the cooler. There’s a minor problem with the water pump and he says he’ll be back tomorrow. I told Andy that Tom offered to go over there this weekend and check it out if the landlord doesn’t put his actions where his mouth is. Andy said that was a generous offer that he’d take if he needs to.

I’m starving now. My not eating too much has caught up to me, so I think I’ll go make some hash browns or something. Right now, we don’t have too much variety in the way of food since it’s the end of the week. Tom’s gonna go shopping Saturday or Sunday. After I eat, I’m gonna take and go through next week’s TV guide and highlight everything I think I’ll want to watch.

Later…

Oh, that really sucks! So far, Brad’s dumped Andy, and Andy has an overwhelming vibe that all Brad wanted was sex and that when he saw he couldn’t get it right away, he split. Andy feels really cursed and I don’t blame him. I thoroughly understand and reminded him of how I’ll never have a kid. I still have a good vibe for Andy, but obviously it’s got nothing to do with Brad. I still hope it does, although I always saw a guy as unmeant to be for him as a kid is unmeant to be for me.

I wonder why, though. Is it cuz he’s too good for it? I notice that just like most parents are no good, most people in relationships are either no good or aren’t worthy of those they’re with. Is it due to being compensated for good health and other blessings? Is he being punished for the sins of his forefathers? Is he not ready yet? I think he’s more than ready.

Andy wondered if he were being denied love cuz God’s preparing him for some situation where he’ll need to be alone, but this makes no sense to me. I wondered if it could be cuz he wants it and I’ve said how I believe that the more you want something, the less likely you are to get it. He said no, cuz there were a handful of years where he didn’t want a relationship, and that didn’t mean guys were lined up at his door. This is probably true cuz during the 3 years I wasn’t looking for a woman, I wasn’t bombarded with offers from them.

Could God be denying me a child cuz he’s preparing me for something in which a child would be in the way? If so, what the hell could it be? I doubt God’s preparing me for anything else or that he feels I’m not ready yet. I believe he doesn’t want me to do or have first best and other than Tom, a kid and singing are first best and God knows it. I think it’s either a punishment or a protection thing or both and that’s why I’ll never have a kid.

If he sent Tom to me able and willing to cum (Tom is at least able) he’d just make sure the DES really got me good or something else or that Tom had a physical problem. If either one of us does have or ever has a physical problem, I can bet you God will make it irreversible.

Going through the TV guide and seeking out stuff that looks good sure is time-consuming. And I only check from 6 PM-4 AM. I still have to check Thursday and Friday.

Saturday, April 27, 1996

 

I hope I get my period soon enough to relieve my sore tits. Plus, I swear I’ve got 50 gallons of water retaining in me. This has been the easiest period in the longest time I’ve had as far as the emotional side of it goes. Could it be compensation for the last one which was rough? Or could it be cuz of getting my emotions out that day I hit and kicked Tom and really came to accept the fact that there’d be no kid? Well, it’s nice for a change, anyway.

Tom and I screwed earlier and he said that he had a pre-cum throb which he hasn’t had in a long time and that we were getting back to where we were. Well, that’s nice since it seems to have taken him longer in the past, but I still don’t get what he means exactly. Maybe it’s just his way of trying to help make me feel that I don’t suck in bed.

At first I thought that Tom was trying to convince me that it wasn’t them next door blaring their car music just so I wouldn’t be pissed off about it and so he wouldn’t have to deal with it, but now I don’t even know for sure if it is really them. That night I went to Andy’s, I ran into the music room when I heard it, listening for the sound of a car door to open and close, but I never heard one. Then Tom said he heard that car quietly leave at 5:00 the next morning. The one parked next door at the time.

A couple of nights ago at 8:30 when I was listening to music, Tom said he heard music for about 30 seconds, but that he was sure it wasn’t next door. There was never any car next door, either, even though there were lights on.

Then last night I heard it for about 10 seconds just after 8:00, but there are still no cars there, even though there are lights on. They either have the lights on and aren’t there or maybe they came in at 5:30 yesterday afternoon. I could’ve sworn I heard a car pull up, doors shut, then a kid cry for about 5 seconds.

So, just maybe it isn’t them after all and maybe I was dreaming that time I thought music woke me up. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I’m beginning to relax and think that maybe things will be okay. They’re hardly ever there. I almost never hear the kid. I think I’ve only heard it twice for a few seconds since they moved in what? Late February or early March? Maybe Robin’s right.

Them saying I’ll be pregnant soon is still so unreal as I’ve said before, but if there’s a one-in-a-million chance that Tom’s not joking and he really came closer than he has in a while, is it a coincidence? His language is weird cuz he says that saying “I think you’ll be pregnant by September” and “I know you’ll be pregnant by September” means the same thing. Whereas with me, saying “I think I will” means I think I will, but don’t know for sure, but hope and think so. If I said I know so, that means I know it and there are no ifs, ands or buts. Then he said that in my language that meant that he knows so. Whatever.

I wrote letters to Bob and my parents and addressed envelopes to my parents, Bob, Kim, Larry, and one for Sarah. I hope Tom gets the chance to get 25 of those 1¢ stamps for postcards this weekend, so I can mail some off.

This weekend I’ll probably give Kim a call. It’s been a while since we chatted. That is if she’s home. I wonder when Larry will call or if he’s been trying.

Yesterday I began exercising my legs and today I did my arms and belly. Hope I can stick to this.

Earlier we cut Tom’s hair and it wasn’t the disaster it was the last time. He did the front and sides and I did the back. We did a nice job and he doesn’t look like Mr. Military.

Today Tom will be going to Evelyn’s to finish some more work on her sink and then to his parent’s house. I’ll be asleep most of the day and I just hope and pray that if it is them next door, I hope they don’t get carried away and blare that fucking music. They seem to come and go during weekends, but last weekend I don’t think they were there at all.

Later…

I was just talking to Andy who is kind of depressed even though he expected to be. It’s amazing how everything he said really hit home and how we both feel the same emotions. The only difference is that his is about a boyfriend and mine’s about the kid. He too, has felt that love wasn’t meant for him since he was a little boy, just like I knew since I was a little girl that I could never have a kid.

The things he said totally hit home and were things I’ve often said and probably always will. He’d say stuff like, what’s the point of living? What’s my purpose in life? Why am I so cursed? I’m just totally trying to fight fate when there’s not a damn thing I can ever do to change it. God has his mind made up and he’ll never change it. God wants me to be alone forever. I had fun trying to get things I wanted at times, but I knew the final outcome wouldn’t be what I wanted, etc.

Later…

I’m still awake, but getting quite tired. I suppose Tom will be up anytime now.

Yesterday, due to it warming up, the pool was so green that you couldn’t even see the bottom. So, he got “shock treatment” and shocked the hell out of and now it’s such a milky light blue color that you still can’t see through it. Soon, though, it’ll be nice and clear.

I can hear my birds now who are up for the day.

Later…

Once again, Robin came to me as I was falling asleep saying I’d wake up OK, I need not worry about next door and that I’ll be pregnant soon. She seems to be doing this a lot lately.

Anyway, I’m both happy and shocked to say that next door had a soundless party. When Tom came home I was already asleep and he said there were 4 cars next door. After I got up, I peeked over to next door from the music room where I can see the carport and their living room window. This was the early evening. Their blinds were open and I could see one guy drinking from a can. About an hour ago I checked and all the lights were off. I think I heard cars leave and they did so quietly. So, if they came in with any music on, it certainly didn’t wake me up. If I’d known there were gonna be 4 cars arriving after falling asleep, I’d have been very nervous, but luckily it would’ve been for nothing. Still, I like to not know what my neighbors are up to. If Tom didn’t see the cars and if I didn’t spy, I’d never have known about it and that’s just what I like. To not know my neighbors exist or what they’re up to. Not unless I spy on them.

I have about 8 hours worth of movies taped, so I think I’m gonna break from writing and go watch something.

First, though, Tom got $20 from working at Evelyn’s just as I predicted. I knew it’d be $10 or $20. He also visited his parents and said his dad is doing terribly. He has bad stomach problems.

Then he picked out a really neat screensaver which I’ll describe later and said we’re about to go through a lot of major changes.

Yeah, sure.

Sunday, April 28, 1996

 

I just saw a movie about a true story that was really sad. It actually made me cry and very few movies ever do that to me. This movie is a classic example of how unfair and cruel life is, and of course, it only fuels my hatred for God. There was this woman who had a daughter and gave it up for adoption to a stable couple who couldn’t have kids. Meanwhile, the woman lied about who the father was, and the real father ended up being one who was violent and who abandoned two other kids. So, after two years of the good couple raising her just fine, the courts said she had to go to her biological parents. I felt so heartbroken for this poor kid and it brought back bad memories of how I had to be forced to go places I didn’t want to go. How the fuck can people create and have such a shitty system? How can God allow this to happen? How can God allow a child to go to a lying mother who already has one other kid and a violent non-caring father who has 3 other kids, two of whom he dumped? Meanwhile, this deserving couple who can’t have kids has to suffer with no kids at all. I really hate both God and this fucked up, cruel, unfair world in which we live. If people won’t do what’s right, then when the fuck is God gonna finally put his foot down and do what’s right? Why must God allow and aid such cruel, mean, sick, unfair shit to happen in this world? Why must God give what they say is his ultimate gift to so many undeserving people and bless them with all kinds of wonderful things, while shitting on good people? When can good people have what they deserve? It makes me feel all the more that God hates us and thinks we’re just these two no-good, non-deserving people who ought to rot in hell, never get what we really want and struggle all our lives while we dream of the normal everyday things in life that we’ll never have as we watch undeserving assholes get them. Why must it be that if you take 10 people and have 9 of them be jerks, it’s that one good person in the bunch who can’t have kids or some other thing they want and so richly deserve or would be good at? Tom and I must really deserve a child after all. It must really be that we’d be great parents, I could’ve handled it and not been like my mom after all, or why else would we be denied a child? For our health? Well, maybe that is the case, too, as I’ve said before. Maybe God knows something we don’t, like maybe I’d die in childbirth or all kinds of other things could go wrong with the kid, our marriage, anything. But if God can do anything, then couldn’t he make sure that nothing terrible went wrong or something we couldn’t handle? This is why I doubt he’s protecting me by denying me a child, cuz if there was a problem, God could make sure it didn’t stop us. If I’m not paying for someone else’s sins, it’s gotta be just cuz he plain old hates me and doesn’t think I’m a bad enough person for it. Only bad people deserve his so-called ultimate gift. I know I shouldn’t let God get the best of me (or Tom), but it’s hard. Tom said not to try to fight, control or manipulate my feelings and maybe he’s right. I can’t deny my true beliefs, feelings or desires to myself anyway. I may as well let my mind flow freely and bitch about shit, even if I can’t change it and I know I can’t and I can’t fight fate, either. As weird as it may sound, though, knowing God and Tom will never allow me a child has still been easier than ever to deal with. Especially since our last fight. My feelings about the way God works and the way Tom lied will never change, but I haven’t had the desperate, sad, and angry feelings about it that I’ve had on and off. Maybe my anger towards Tom is transferring into forgiveness after all. And maybe the other part of it is that I’m accepting God’s ways and his rules more so. I always have, but I guess the acceptance has hit home harder.

Tom is just so confusing still. He still loves to play head games with me, while denying that he’s preventing anything or lying and saying how it’s best not to plan stuff. One minute he swears he doesn’t want to wait on having a kid and that he knows I’ll be pregnant by September, the next he’s giving me all kinds of advice on how to up my chances of going to college. I know I’ll either be in college or working in September, so I guess it doesn’t matter what he says, even though I wish he’d speak the truth. I don’t like being lied to and he knows it. Yesterday, I said I wished they’d tell me I needed a hysterectomy out of frustration cuz of the physical part of the PMS which is pretty bad this month. He said, “But you don’t like people lying to you.” Then why does he do it? What makes him think it’s OK for him to lie to me then? Why does Robin think it’s OK to lie to me?

I guess it all goes back to the fact that God has a basic plan for all of us when we’re born. He insisted that people lie to me and take things from me and keep things from me and force me into second best for the most part. That doesn’t include living in Arizona or marrying Tom, either. That is definitely first-best and for that, I’m thrilled and very happy and grateful. I think Tom knows and understands, though, that just cuz you’re married to first-best (except for the lies), you can still feel empty, cheated, and like a waste product who doesn’t know if she’s got a future, other than the same old rut. Yes, this life is way better than before I met Tom and no, I’d never want to go back to my old life or give up the things I have today, but is this it?

Yes.

Later…

I guess Andy’s landlord did fix his EC, cuz he hasn’t called us asking Tom to come over and check it out. Just after midnight on Saturday, he said he wasn’t sure if it was fixed and that his landlord didn’t leave a note about fixing it, but said it did seem cooler. I told him to let me know how it was when he got up in the afternoon, which would’ve been yesterday, then to see if he could get a hold of his landlord. If not, call us, but he hasn’t.

Since there seems to be no chance at all of going to Florida for the next several months, I wonder if my parents will ever come out here. I can’t say I’m too upset over our not being able to go there, cuz you know how I feel about that. I’d have too many worries. Could I sleep okay? Could I breathe okay? Would everything else be okay?

Later…

According to Tom, I slept through 11 minutes of quite a riot next door. I didn’t think Andy’s theory was right when he said it could’ve been just her cuz of how I look. It’s all of them cuz they’re like most people who don’t give a shit about those around them. He said about 4 cars came in (all adult men) and for 11 minutes they played ball, screamed at the top of their lungs, and blared rap music. Then after 11 minutes, everyone left and it went dead quiet. Tom thinks they just came back from a basketball game cuz it’s the end of basketball season. They better not do this very often and they’re lucky they didn’t wake me up. I can’t believe Robin’s been right so far. Tom says not to worry cuz he thinks it’ll be very seldom that they do this and that basketball season is ending and it’ll be too hot for them to do this. I asked what about the winter and he says they’ll be watching football in the winter. I hope so. And I hope they continue not to be home too often. I guess that during weekdays they won’t be here too much. I hope not so I can at least have 5 days to sing in privacy. I don’t like people to hear me when I’m practicing. If I want an audience, I’ll go get one. I’m glad that kid hasn’t been around to play ball. Maybe he just didn’t feel comfortable playing at their house. Who knows, but I’m glad he’s gone cuz now I can’t tell him to go away since the house isn’t vacant anymore.

Now I’m gonna go see if I’ve got any email, then I’ll watch some TV.

Monday, April 29, 1996

 

Andy’s gonna be calling any second. I just called him to see when he wants me to have his apron ready for him to pick up and he was watching Xena.

It’s hard to believe it only took me 18 days to fill up this book. (just about) If it weren’t for my constantly writing about the issue of Tom’s lying about the kid and how I feel about that and our weird sex life, I’d probably be 20-30 journals behind.

Later…

I guess Evie really isn’t into letter-writing as I thought she was, but I forgive her. She’s got a kid. Therefore, she hasn’t exactly got the time to type many letters and with what little time she does have, I’m sure she’d prefer to send letters to her family in Indiana.

Andy called back and it looks like I may be going over there Tuesday night to finish the cat. Or try to anyway.

In 20 minutes, the movie I’m taping will be over. I try to tape as many movies as I can here and there. That way, if I get bored or in a lazy mood, I’ll have stuff to watch if there’s nothing good on at the moment.

Later…

I took off my old nail polish and soon I’ll put the nail hardener on, then my gold nail polish. The nail hardener is cloudy, so hopefully it’ll make the gold stand out better which is otherwise too light.

I’m going to start taking measures to decrease the bird population. There are just way too many (30-something) and they really make a hell of a mess on the patio and around the pool area. I’m sick of having to remember to lift up the seat cushions so they don’t shit all over the chairs and I’m sick of trying to hop around all their shit. I’m gonna start feeding them a little less often and I’m gonna give them much less at once than I normally do.

When Tom gets up, we’ll have to fill out an order form for stamps. We’ll need a book of regular stamps, then we’ll order those 1¢ stamps from them, too. Tom alone, as well as with me, checked vending machines to see if we could get the 1¢ ones that way, but there weren’t any, and this way he won’t have to stand in line forever at the PO.

Later…

As soon as he gets up I’m gonna strip the beds and get the sheets washing. Then they’ll be dry by the time he leaves. I lazed out of doing it yesterday, but I got all our clothes and towels and stuff like that done.

Tuesday, April 30, 1996

 

Something happened that totally drove all desires to have a kid away, but I’ll get into it some other time. All I can say now is thank God that God and Tom won’t allow Tom to cum. Never will I have to worry about the hassle of birth control or its side effects.

Once again, I see that compensation really does exist. This has been a painless period and so far I haven’t needed any Ibuprofen, whereas my last period was a killer.

[hows-itgoagain]

omg i meant to give direct commentary earlier but i was so excited by the fact that you drew my hcs that i forgot (and also i had gotten the notif for this as soon as it was posted and it wouldn’t load bc i had shitty wifi until hours later and i was just happy to see it 🙏🙏) but anyways now here i am!!

i ABSOLUTELY think dot would be self conscious of the scars, ofc as well as being upset over them in general, but mainly just worrying on how it makes him look (but lance doesn’t seem to mind his new look one bit)

i’d always thought about them in the sense of lance walks on dot’s GOOD side because dot wants to see him if they’re side by side, but lance being on dot’s bad side to make up for the lack of vision there is SO good i can’t believe i didn’t think about it that way sooner. also dot totally carries heavy things for lance and boasts about being strong in that playful annoying way, and lance rolls his eyes and tells him to shut up but is still very grateful, even if he won’t say it

YES lance gets so pissed he can’t reach high up things anymore and sometimes he’ll try, hurt himself, and dot would come in and scold him for pushing his body while getting the thing lance was trying to get

lance dot-proofed the dorm and i find that both incredibly real and incredibly funny. very practical though!! dot is covered in bruises and scratches from not seeing things or not having the depth perception to know how far something is and lance knew what had to be done

lance is super not the type to talk about things that are bothering him, but dot’s simply too close to the guy, so he can’t hide shit, and that’s peak. lance probably tries to do things the way he used to, pushing past when things hurt because he used to be able to do it just fine so he should be able to now as well, and no matter how much dot or anyone could try to explain to him that he can’t do things the same anymore, he just won’t listen. i think dot having painkillers on standby knowing how often lance overexerts himself is something he would for sure do, bc he may bash the guy’s head through a wall to get out of a room but he’s still gonna care so much when lance won’t let himself rest (see: my hc that lance Constantly Has Eyebags)

also “even with one eye can see through his bullshit” SENT ME when i first read it like 😭😭😭😭😭

Some quick sketches of headcanons created by @hows-itgoagain I really liked them and they inspired me to work finally. Also they make so much sense it just feels right

[indianliv]

It’s pretty sad but...

It’s pretty sad but I’ve been seeing a really disgusting correlation between women who have no real romantic partner, that also only keep the men they have in their lives to use them for all they’ve got, and their lack of good friendship skills.

I’m no saint but I’ve been seeing the pattern too often not to call it out.

Y’all will say you want to have friends but you don’t treat them any better than the men you have in your life. I have no hope for you anymore.

Every girl I meet who I’ve seen be terrible communicators, have little to no real follow-through, only care about what they’re getting out of it when dealing with guys, have been equally negligent in their friendship with me.

I’ve been so naive to think that they’d treat me any differently just because we’re girls. It’s been quite literally the opposite.

I mean how can I expect you to be reliable, and genuinely have my best interest at heart, when the only thing I’ve seen you do with your potential life partners is revel in the drama and continuously take from them what you don’t give back? 

We don’t talk about friendship red flags enough but if we did, THAT would be one of them.

You’ll complain that some man you’re into won’t text you back within a reasonable time but you can’t seem to maintain a prompt response time when I text you either so...remind me, why are your expectations so high?

You only care that someone isn’t responding when it’s inconveniencing you but I’m supposed to just keep taking your mixxy communication to the chin...do you hear yourself?

Don’t even get me started on the ones who like to tell half the story to make you believe there’s more to it that what it seems. Y’all will jump to share information that no one asked for and I’m always confused about why? Is it that important to you for us to know? Especially when what you’re telling us is NOTHING to write home about?

No seriously, is your ego THAT big?

You’re constantly finding yourself in the same situations and scenarios and you haven’t caught on that maybe, just maybe, you’re the problem? You lack proper boundaries, you don’t have the balls to go after what you actually deserve, and you’re constantly lying to yourself about what you want in life.

I know because everytime I confront you about it, you deflect or make excuses for your lack of discernment. You never take full accountability and responsibility and so, year after year, we’re still having the same conversations about the same takeaway you should’ve grown from the last incident.

I don’t want friends like this. I want friends that value having a man in their life. I want the ones who can clearly tell me what they need from a man and the kind of man they want so I can help them find him. I want friends that are more than excited for me to meet my husband and will encourage me to get out there so he can find me. I want more women in my life who delight in doing for their man what he needs as a man.

I don’t want the friends that only see a man as an extension of their bank account or some kind of social media status symbol they can stand next to and “look good together.” I don’t want the ones who make the conscious decision to hang around girls that truly believe they should receive princess treatment without any real effort in return - and no, sex is not “real effort.”

I want more women in my life who truly want to be wives, not because it grants them the “soft life” but because they truly value having a partner to build a legacy with. A lot of these girls be out here on some cockamamey bullshit because they either want a man to save them or they’re too masculine to be the feminine one in the dynamic.

It’s a lot of women out here that look like women, dress like women, but absolutely do not behave like women. They don’t see the value in having domestic qualities and they barely have any patience, grace, tact, or compassion for the men they date. Frankly, those women are not the best girl friends. I’ve seen it too often and I’m finally waving the white flag on it.

Those are the girls you only call for a good time, not a long time.

[moo-nstone]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).

[not-alien-girl-v]

Hi! I love your blog sm!! Could I pls request the evans with a manic pixie dream girl gf? Or just a Tate fic about having a manic pixie dream girl gf bc Tate is my absolute favourite 🥺 thank you !! <3

The Evans x MPDG

warning: idfk. soon i’m not gonna tag for language because this is tumblr you can’t expect to not see the word fuck

note: no jimmy, rory, austin, or whatever the fuck was in apocalypse because i haven’t bothered to watch seasons 4 and 10, and i just don’t want to write about ginger or bowl cut evan today. sue me. also i feel like i’m missing someone here. if i didn’t write about your favorite character i’m sorry

Tate:

tate is kinda like the sad boy archetype that falls in love with the mpdg in every movie

his life is boring and pointless, then he meets you

he’d write some poem about you, calling you ‘his sunshine, the only light he’d ever known’

and one day you’d drag him to an open mic night at a coffee house and force him to sit amongst the masses

you read out his poem and he’s absolutely mortified

but he waits until you are outside to kiss you, his way of saying thank you

he mostly just entertains your madness, he lets you come to him with all your bullshit things you say and he listens

he never reciprocates it much, never being high energy or whimsical, but he always admires you for it, whether it be by words or just by the adoring way he looks at you

you give all his favorite songs new meanings, you take him to do things he’s never done, and before he realizes it, he’s finally living, instead of merely surviving

you’re truly a spectacle and he never wants to take his eyes off of you

Kit:

he loves how silly you are,, finds it so endearing and pretty

he loves joking around with you like kids, and your spontaneity charms him every time

although sometimes you are a bit much for him

he loves you so much, and he wants to marry you and settle down and have kids

but you’re not sure the words ‘settle down’ will ever be in your vocabulary

it’s nice to have someone solid to fall back on when things crash and burn but he wishes things weren’t always crashing and burning with you

he cares too much about you, and doesn’t want to see you get hurt one way or another

and you’re so magnetic to everyone around you, he’s always terrified of losing you since he never matches the energy you give to him

Kyle:

the most manic pixie dream boy on this list

not kidding either

in a mainstream way, if that makes sense, like you would still have to introduce him to good music

niche but i imagine this song being ‘your song’

often times you butt heads with who gets to take who on an exciting, life changing, world shattering date because you both have something planned

he doesn’t always have the time to be crazy with you, but if you catch him in the right mood, he’d be willing to drop class for the day and drive out of state

late night impromptu dates, like grocery shopping or graveyard visiting

on that note, he’d take you to a graveyard and make up stories about the most unusual graves, like the youngest ones, the ones with strange gravestones or notes, and whoever can make the best story doesn’t have to pay for dinner later

he’d always end up paying, you’re just too good to beat

James:

you’re a breath of fresh air to him, especially once he can’t keep murdering hotel guests anymore

you keep things interesting, eternity in the hotel doesn’t seem so bad when he has you by his side, finding new things to do everyday, throwing him off daily but he loves you for it

he’s very hesitant to do some things, however, like throwing water balloons at people from the roof, but he enjoys the chaos and mild inconvenience it bestows on the victims

and he does love your weird food combinations you come up with on the spot during dinner, he tries to stomach them every time, even when you mix strawberries into your soup

he really doesn’t mind how little you sleep during the night, he doesn’t sleep at all, so he can just spend the empty hours alone with you, which is more than he could ever ask for

he reads you his favorite books from his youth and without fail, you give him a new way to look at the stories, a new perspective on things

he cares an awful lot about you and your eccentricity, and he always avoids saying no to your schemes

Kai:

pisses him tf off

hates when the attention is on you during cult meetings

ignores you and your madness at all times

certainly does NOT get all soft when you’re alone together

absolutely NEVER plays into the little stories you make up on the spot or random impressions you do when you’re bored

DEFINITELY DOES NOT do silly little things like letting you do his makeup to look like you, buying you books of poetry, or flowers that reminded him of you

is in NO WAY effected long term by your spontaneity, certainly he doesn’t enjoy his life 10x more since you came into it and made it inherently better

this is kai anderson we’re talking about, he’d never cuddle up with you and listen to you talk all about your adventures from the day, all the dogs you shook hands with, all the strangers you greeted like friends, the ‘meaningful’ pieces of trash you collected off the ground to plaster on your bedroom walls

no, he’s a cult leader, he would NEVER buy into all that sappy shit

[brutal-nemesis]

Alrighty let’s see (under a cut because there’s a Whole Fucking Lot and also it’s spoilers for some events of E&T)

Since he canonically has never met his parents it always feels weird giving him good ones in AUs cuz part of his character is based on He Was Not Raised Right (Or At All) so in this AU the king and queen were probably kind of strict/controlling and Castys wasn’t a fan so he developed into his chaotic feral self

He’s secretly a little relieved that he doesn’t have to be a prince anymore. Not that he’s very excited about being a prisoner/test subject, but it’s a bit of a silver lining

Neteri thinks he’s very cute, but not the same way she thinks Erebus is. More like a feral cat you found in an alley instead of a little puppy. Castys is also actually 19 here, so she sees him as a little bit of a kid

He hates it when she touches him, and unlike Erebus he never warms up to it since he’s pretty touch averse unless it’s someone he’s really close to

He’s 5’8” so his height difference with 5’0” Neteri isn’t quite as drastic but it’s still a bit silly

He fucking hates the collar and once he gets the new arm and figures it out he makes his right hand grow demon claws and tears the collar off. Neteri leaves him with his wrists cuffed behind his back overnight as punishment and gives him a new metal one instead

Getting his tongue cut off messes him up more than it did for Erebus. His words were all he had to fight back with and keep himself calm, and being silenced is so dehumanizing

He’s not happy about the brand, but it doesn’t upset him quite as much. He cries in the cell that night, but mainly about his tongue and because he’s scared of what’s going to happen to him next

He bites Neteri the first time she puts a leash on him, so he gets to be gagged even though he can’t talk ❤️

He’s very happy to get a new tongue, and the first thing he says to Neteri after the procedure is “Fuck you”

In general he thinks getting demon parts is kind of cool, but it’s definitely not worth the surgeries and the pain, so he doesn’t look forward to the procedures

He still cooperates with Neteri, and while he doesn’t have a weird attachment to her like Erebus does, he still likes her well enough

On the other hand, he absolutely despises Hjáll and punches, kicks, and bites her every time he gets the chance, so her thinking of him as a feral monster is kinda justified in Castys’s case. He also calls her a creepy bitch to her face multiple times 💅

Neteri is a little apprehensive about giving him fangs due to his tendency to bite, but after hearing what the alternative tail surgery would be like, Castys, who very much does not want her to touch his ass, agrees not to bite her anymore if she gives him fangs. He is more willing to agree after she tells him she’s not going to punish him if he bites Hjáll

Castys does not attend the ball 😔 he hates formal events and dressing up so it would be basically torture for him. When Neteri asks him if he could help her practice dancing, he replies with “do you think I remember any of that bullshit?”

His horns do not tingle when Neteri comes to see him. However, they tingle when she brings his meals, and after experimenting with what she brings him a bit, Neteri finds that they seem to tingle the most when she brings him dessert. Guy who just wants A Little Treat

He probably asks for Neteri to bring him puzzles to do and some kind of fidget toy to help with the boredom. Unfortunately, since he doesn't like her touch, she doesn't make him sit next to her at her desk ever 😔

Despite not being as close with him as she gets with Erebus, Neteri still ends up caring a lot about Castys (he is Her Boy!) and ends up wanting to save him from his fate of being sent to the Untitled world. It doesn't work out because I love suffering but she tries good job Neteri

He copes with The Horrors a little better than Erebus and kind of has fun fighting the demons, but he still gets pretty lonely and would rather not have to do this

he makes a cute demon lad the end

(picrew 1 | picrew 2)

been cooking up (thinking about) AU where Castys is Neteri's test subject instead and it's very silly i will dump some bullets about it tomorrow mmkay i sleepy now

[maizumis]

Hii! Another Haikyuu dad au! Can it be with the miya twins, Bokuto, Iwa, and Suna? They get into an argument with their pregnant wife so the wife tells them to leave her alone. The boys find a loophole so they talk to her baby bump about how sorry they are to their mama :)

— HAIKYUU BOYS ARGUING WITH YOU WHILE PREGNANT AND APOLOGIZING

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintaro

note: female reader‼️ angst to fluff ‼️different format cos I wanted to write more 🥴 thanks anon! hope you like it 😽 I think I'm gonna do a part two cos this got longer than expected and I couldn't add all the characters! not edited, that's work for tomorrow!

# MIYA ATSUMU

atsumu came home after a rough day at practice, excited to spend some time with you and baby boy that was about to come in just a month

all happiness he had quickly erased when he saw that the home was on the same that when he went to practice, dishes without washing and clothes without fold

" ‘tsumu you're home! we missed you!" he walked past you, he didn't even give you a side look, going directly to the bathroom "‘tsumu all okay? I made your favor–" "could ya please shut up? a come home after working and entire day for ma family and the house is like this? what did ya do the whole day?"

you were stuck in your place with wide eyes and hands over your belly "I'm sorry ‘tsumu, my back hurts a lot today and—" "save it, don’ wanna hear yer excuses"

"go fuck yourself then, miya, sleep in the comfiness of the couch today and don't you dare talk to me until tomorrow" with that you were gone to the master bedroom, fighting the tears that were in your eyes

he thought nothing about it and went to the shower, thinking what was he gonna eat for dinner then go to sleep, tomorrow is a new day

-

freshly out of the shower with pajamas on, he went to the kitchen to eat something, mesmerized when he saw the little note on the oven glass

"enjoy your meal! we love you!<3"

not only that, but that you made his favorite, knowing he was gonna come home late and exhausted after practice

memories of the recent fight came to his mind, he didn't even let you talk your mind, his throat feeling heavy with the guilt that he was experiencing, maybe he should let you talk after all

contradictory to your words, he went runnint to the shared bedroom, ready to apologise for being an ass "baby, yer awake?"

"not for you" you told him trying to hide your sobs, the day was awful, your back didn't let you do anything, the meal you cooked was an hour of fighting the back pain, thinking your ‘tsunj would be happy if he found this

"okay then, good thing a have a baby I can talk to"

he knelt down in front of you, carefully placing his head on the baby bump, caressing it from time to time

"I was an ass, sorry, a bad person to yer mom today baby, a came home and told her bad things, she was hurting and a Didi care, can ya tell her sorry for me?" he felt a kick on his cheek and a smile on his face when he saw you laugh, even with the tear-stained cheeks you were beautiful

" ‘tsumu, not cool what you did today, I wasn't feeling okay and I missed you, we missed you" your voice still a little wiggly after that crying session you had with your maternity pillow

finally, first name privileges, he thought "a know, am sorry, am so sorry, ya deserve so much better angel, am sorry"

"‘s okay tsum, cuddle me as an apologize, yeah?"

he never got into bed at that speed, quickly cuddling you with hands on your tummy while giving little pecks to your neck

"ya don't have to tell me twice"

# IWAIZUMI HAJIME

before and during pregnancy you joined iwaizumi on his works out or runs from time to time, you knew he enjoyed his time doing it so, why don't join him?

today you were not feeling like it, morning sickness took over you and the bed seemed like the best place to stay all day, one day in bed wouldn't hurt, you thought

apparently it stroke a nerve on hajime "what are you doing in the bed? up! we need it go out! " '‘m sorry haji, not really feeling like it today, why don't you go and I make something when you return home?"

"what do you mean 'you don't feel like it' the only thing you do all day is laze around"

you took a deep breath before answering, knowing didn't meant what he say "well I'm sorry I'm pregnant iwaizumi, I can't help it. go on your run and we can eat something together when you return"

"fucking Clara wouldn't put this excuses on me" he murmured under his breath, hoping you didn't heard the mention of his ex partner

"repeat yourself iwaizumi hajime, I'm waiting"

"no baby— I'm sorry, I didn't mean it-"

"go out before I go out by myself iwaizumi, don't bother talk to me the rest of the day, I'm gonna make dinner and leave it on the fridge, I'm also gonna sleep in the guest room. fucking low of you iwaizumi, so fucking low"

he went out with a knot on his throat, he didn't need to bring that up— he knew you weren't feeling your best and then he still played that ex-girlfriend card. on the way back home he picked up flowers knowing you loved them, praying to anyone who was above him for your forgiveness

"I'm home"

"and I told you not to talk to me, iwaizumi"

being petty was right, the mention of his ex while carrying his first daughter because you didn't feel like going out today was bullshit, he didn't have an excuse

he looked down to the floor before closing the door and going to the living room to think about what he did, cheeks red of embarrassment because of his childish behavior

-

he waited for you to be asleep before going into the room, with the idea of carrying your to the king bed instead of this one, after all, he was the one that deserved the uncomfy room

before picking you he saw the pregnant belly, the shirt you were wearing rolled up so it was exposed to the cold air

" ‘m sorry baby, your mama doesn't deserve this, you have the right to be angry with me" tears were pricking his eyes, maybe he was thinking too ahead but would you leave him for this?

"I'm such and asshole, I hope you don't remember that lady's name" he told the fetus as if he was having an actual conversation face to face "behave for mom yeah? don't put more pressure on her than already did" with that he picked you up, without knowing you were fully awake the whole conversation

you let yourself be carried to the big bedroom, once you felt him place you on the bed, you tugged his shirt while looking at him with teary eyes "we need to talk tomorrow but please,stay hajime" you were still mad, but his company is what you were craving right now

"there's no way I'm not staying forever with you"

# SUNA RINTARO

rintaro was coming home late this past weeks but he finally had a free night! so you were excited to spend a bonding time with him and your unborn baby

finishing the little detail on the table such as the dry flowers and the candles, you hear the door being open "rinnie! you finally home! it felt like forever while waiting for you!" he gave you a sweet peck in your lips before going to his room to change his clothes

"oh~ I see you dressed fancy for the occasion! wait for me I think I have a dress that stills fits me!" "what do you mean? I'm going out with the inarizaki boys, kita is in town"

you stopped midway the hall that ended in your room, quickly walking towards your boyfriend again "what do you mean you're going out? what about what I made?"

"you made something?"

it was ridiculous to keep begging, maybe you should call it a day and watch some movies in the couch with a tube of ice cream, alone, again.

"okay then, have fun rin, don't drink to much and come home safe"

-

rin came home after a few hours out, he indeed had a good time with his old teammates but his mind was all the time one you, maybe he should have stay with you, eat some homemade food and cuddle all night while talking about nothing

he entered the house and saw you spread on the couch, huge blanket on with his highschool jersey on, long forgotten night snacks on the night table and Netflix on the tv

it wasn't only that what caught his eye but the table in the kitchen too, he walked towards it and saw it, the candles, the flower carefully placed on the middle of the table, the matching napkins and fancy plates, so that was what you were referring to earlier

guilt creeped all over his body, he didn't acknowledge your efforts to make a night for the both of you, was this negligence? he thought

going again to the couch, bending over so he would be at your height, he placed a hand on your belly before speaking

"you're allowed to be mad at me when you're born baby" he paused for a few seconds, thinking what was he gonna say next "papa is a fucking asshole— sorry, don't say that, papa is very clumsy from time to time"

"Rin?"

there you were! his hand came quickly behind your neck, pressing your forehead and noses together, lips brushing each other

"I'm sorry I'm so stupid— fuck, I really don't want to cry right now, I'm an horrible person"

you cupped his face with both your hands, eyes teary about to cry for a second time that day "you're not horrible Rin, it's just it feels lonely you know?" tears already going down your cheek, the sight made his heart ache, you were crying because of him

"I know you're out there trying to be the best for us but" your voice wiggly, you were really trying to hide the sobs you had inside "but sometimes it feels like you're not around anymore, I can't share the little moments I have because I wake up to an empty bed and go to sleep with the thought of you being out" full sobs were coming out of you at this point, days of pain finally reaching their point "and it hurts so bad not to have you around"

rintaro was crying along with you, you could feel his wet tears on your neck, where he was placing his head "and your absolutely right angel, I'm gonna be better for you– for the both of you, what about I take the day off tomorrow, yeah?" his quavering voice betraying him, even if you knew he was crying he wanted to be strong

"that sounds perfect rin... come cuddle me?"

carrying you bridal style to the bedroom, he lit your favorite candle and snuggled you under the cost sheets

"cuddle you, all day long baby"

[kats-baku1999]

Hidden Secrets, Part Two.

wait I can’t believe you guys actually like part one (read that here) I was so insecure about posting it. I’m glad, I’m so glad. Everyone was asking for Bakugo’s suffering so here it is…

READ PART THREE HERE

warnings: I won’t even lie to you all, I have father problems, so this writing hit a little close to home. if in any way you think it’ll hurt or upset you, please don’t read any further okay? mentions of cheating and sex too. also there is some momo slander. I am so sorry.

It was as if the entire world stopped spinning for a second. Kirishima took a step in front of you and Haru, standing chest to chest with Bakugo. Bakugo glared at him, before looking at you. Every ounce of anger you felt towards him began bubbling up. There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to scream at him. You couldn’t yet though, not in front of Haru.

“Kirishima, will you take Haru to your office? I know how excited he has been to see it since the renovation,” You forced a smile, and looked at your son who’s middle brow was creased, which was a for sure sign he was worrying about something, “It’s alright Ru, I will come meet you in there soon,”

“Yeah, come on little monster, I have a huge TV in there now!” Kirishima’s tone did not match the glare on his face, “The conference room is open you two,”

“Thank you Ei, have fun sweetheart,” Haru released himself from you, and let Kirishima take him. He perked his head back over Kirishima’s shoulder and gave you a small wave with his tiny little hand. You forced another smile and waved back, before turning around to face your ex boyfriend. His face was still frozen in shock, as he watched his old best friend walk off with the tiny little human.

“Please tell me what the fuck-”

“Go to the conference room, now.” You snapped and stomped away from him. Bakugo followed after, the boots of his hero costume echoing on the floor of the lobby. He clicked the door behind him as soon as he was in the same room as you.

“So did you just plan on never fucking telling me I had a kid?!” Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing. You turned around and glared at him, “When the fuck did you even find out you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I found out a few days before I found out you were cheating on me,” You laughed dryly, “I was going to tell you that night, but I got a little side tracked,”

“Bullshit absolute bullshit, you should have told me!” Bakugo yelled, not backing down, “Four fucking years! Four!”

“Cut the bullshit Bakugo, I came to your office two weeks before he was born, I ran into Momo and she said you would call me, that night I get a simple text that says you wanted nothing to do with him,” You yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Then you just mysteriously move away with Momo, and no one hears from you, and now you are in Kirishima’s office demanding to know things?!”

“What the fuck are you talk about?! What text?!” Bakugo yelled, grabbing your hand and moving it away from him, “I just found out about the kid today! You still haven’t even confirmed that he was mine?!”

“Take one fucking look at him and tell me he isn’t yours, the only thing that even convinced me he might be from some magical conception is that he is so sensitive and caring!”

“(Y/N) what fucking messages? We haven’t talked since the night you left?” Bakugo’s voice lowered, “I promise you, if I would have known about him I would have, I would have-”

“What? Come back to me? Be with me?” Your voice was monotone and cold, he felt like he was talking to a stranger. A stranger that hates him.

“I mean, yeah maybe, or at least I would’ve been there for his first steps, words, breath, just anything,” Bakugo’s anger was subsiding for the first time in years, “Momo, that day, I know what you’re talking about, because she told me that her and I would never be happy as long as we were here,”

“Oh wow, so the person who you cheated on me with was also a liar, what a shock,” You scoffed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I heard about her and Todoroki, and their affair,”

Bakugo paused for a second, shocked by your apology. Also by the fact that you even knew. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, considering it just happened two weeks ago. That was the one reason Kirishima was even acknowledging his presence again. He was the one who found them together, and despite his anger towards him, at one point Bakugo was his best friend. So he called him, told him to come to the bar he was at. When Bakugo got there, he found Momo practically on top of Todoroki. A poor, still oblivious, Todoroki who was convinced that Momo had left Bakugo. That she had called off their two year engagement.

“I didn’t realize Kirishima told you, still don’t know how he failed to mention my son-”

“Hey, don’t do that okay? Be mad at me for not trying harder, but don’t be mad at Kirishima, he knew if he would have said anything he wouldn’t have been able to see Haru anymore,” You sat down in one of the chairs, “To be honest, I had just planned on you never finding out,”

“That isn’t fair (Y/n), he is my son.” Bakugo’s tone of voice was frustrated and angry. He didn’t want to be mad at you, he knew he couldn’t be mad at you.

“No, he is my son, mine, I’ve done everything, I was there for all of the bruises and scratches, for when he got into my hair gel to try and make himself look like Kirishima, for his birthdays and Christmases, you weren’t there,” You snapped, “Sharing his genetics does not make him your son,”

“No but you don’t get to hold this shit against me, it wasn’t my fault,” Bakugo fired back.

“You’re the one who fucked her,” You sneered. Standing up again, running your hand through your hair, “You cheated on me with her, you chose her over me, you don’t get to be the victim here either, I don’t even get to be the victim, the only person who deserves to even act like the victim is my son,”

“I’m here now, I know now, and I want nothing more but than to get to know him,” Bakugo looked at you with pleading eyes, “To be apart of his life, of your life,”

“I don’t know, I can’t just tell him that you’re his dad, he has been asking for the past year, and he has so much more going on already,” You laughed, “He doesn’t have his quirk yet, it’s becoming evident that he might not ever have his quirk, so how do I tell him that his dad is the number one hero, and a person he idolizes?”

“So you’ve faulted me because my ex fiancé was a psychopath who didn’t think I needed to know about my son, and now because I’m the number one hero- wait, he doesn’t have his quirk?”

“No, no he doesn’t, that’s why we are in town, for Denki and Hitoshi’s wedding, and to see a doctor,” You explained, the tears finally spilling over, “I can’t just dump this on him too Bakugo, please, you have to understand,”

“I do, okay I do, but please I can’t just let you walk away today with him and not do anything, I have to know him, but I don’t want to make this a problem bigger than it needs to be,” Bakugo grabbed your shoulders, “Please don’t make me villain here, okay I don’t want to be,”

“As much as I want to, I can’t, I know I can’t it wouldn’t be fair to him,” You grabbed his hands off your shoulders and held them for a second, a small sob threatening to escape your throat, “But please don’t take him from me, he’s all I have,”

Bakugo stopped and tightened his grip on your hands. Forcing you to look up at him. His eyebrows were creased, furrowed up exactly like Haru’s always did. The same look of concern Haru’s always had on his face when you said something close to sad.

“I wouldn’t think about taking him away, so get that shitty ass thought out of your head right now,” Bakugo sighed, “He doesn’t even have to know I’m his father right now, not until your ready, but I would like to be your friend, your friend that comes around him, your friend that he gets to know like he knows Kirishima,”

“Okay, okay,” You mumbled, nodding your head, “You can pick us up and take us to his doctor’s appointment, then we can all go out with Kirishima after so he feels more comfortable, we can start there,”

“Okay, let’s start there,” Bakugo let go of your hands slowly, “Does he you know like anything?”

“Yes, Bakugo he likes things, heroes specifically, are you going to blow up this office if I say Deku is his favorite?” You wiped the tears off your face, and finally bust out laughing at Bakugo’s groan that followed, “I’m going to grab Haru, I’ll have Kirishima send you my number okay?”

“Okay, thank you, let me know about the doctors thing.”

You gave him a small nod and walked out of the room. Stopping the bathroom to rinse off the tears. When you opened up the door to Kirishima’s office, you found Haru staring at the large tv completely awe struck by the footage of Midoriya fighting alongside Bakugo. One of their earlier fights, they were just barely pros. You remembered it because that was when he and Shinso agreed to work together. That was the fight that introduced you to him.

— a few days later

“Momma, you’re doing your upset walk,” Haru whispered, as if he was telling some kind of secret. Shinso snorted into his coffee, and earned him self a dirty look from you.

“Your mother is just nervous over seeing her friend small human,” Shinso called you out, and earned another dirty look.

“Momma is friends with Dynamight, Uncle Toshi! She has even met Deku!” Haru’s eyes were sparkling as he said it, waving around his Deku plushie.

“You know, I’ve worked with Deku before, almost beat him-”

“In the sports festival, yes Uncle Toshi we knowwww,” Haru groaned, having heard the story at least fifty time. It was your turn to laugh. Haru loved Shinso, but when it came to his favorite heroes, being ranked under his own fiancé was a bit of a sting.. So poor Shinso tries to impress the kid every chance he can.

“You’ve told him the story at least ten times,” You backed up your son, shrugging your shoulders.

“You know, I was in the room when you came into this world little man, I deserve some props as a hero,” Shinso groaned, and Haru just laughed, taking another bite of his cereal.

“I know, but you’re a hero like you know a dad would be,” Haru said casually and both of you froze. He was trying so desperately to figure out what it meant to have a Dad. The last time Kirishima came to visit, he had even asked him if he was his dad because of their red eyes, and how Kirishima is always there for his big moments. Then he asked you if Shinso was his dad, because they both liked cats.

“Haru, our ride is here, we better go outside okay?” You smiled, changing the subject, “Give Toshi a hug!”

Haru jumped down and gave Shinso a quick hug. You grabbed your things, and your files about Haru’s past doctor’s appointments. After he grabbed his backpack you walked over and kissed Shinso’s cheeks, mouthing a quick apology. He waved you off.

“Let me know how it goes,” He smiled, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the doctors appointment.

You picked up Haru and carried him outside. Bakugo waved at you both, and Haru hid his face again. Although he was excited to get to meet one of his heroes, he was also terrified. Bakugo pouted a little bit, and you gave him a small glare. He straightened up and forced a smile.

“I just need to grab his seat!” You forced a smile, trying to avoid how awkward this was. Bakugo shook his head.

“Nope, I bought one, it’s got all the things,” Bakugo sounded proud of himself, you raised an eyebrow but walked towards his car. He opened the door and you saw a seat, one of the ones with a cup holder, and in it was a collectible Deku doll that Haru had wanted for months. Along with a signed picture of him.

“Haru, look,” You whispered, making sure to tell Bakugo later that he can’t just buy his love. Haru’s face lit up though, and he quickly jumped down out of your arms. He grabbed the doll and picture, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Thank you Mr. Dynamight sir!” Haru grinned, before climbing in his seat so you could buckle him in. Bakugo stood behind you, and you could practically feel the grin radiating off of him.

“Call me Katsuki kid, all of my friends do,” Bakugo smiled, and got in the drivers seat. You walked over to the other side, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride was quiet, just the sounds of Haru playing with his new toy in the background. Neither you or Bakugo knew what to say to one another. So you just sat in comfortable silence, looking through Haru’s main doctor’s notes. Then Haru needed to blow his nose, and out of habit you opened up the glove box to grab a tissue as if you were in your own car. Inside it though you found Bakugo’s necklace that had matched yours, that you gave back to him when you left. You grabbed a tissue and handed it back to Haru.

“Yours is hanging up on the rearview mirror of my other car,” Bakugo mumbled, his eyes not leaving the road. You studied the side of his face, just nodding in response. It was odd that after all of this time he still had that dumb thing. You two had gotten them on your fourth time of hanging out, he had found them at a festival he made some appearance at. They were cheap, but you both wore them all of the time. The necklaces meant something to both of you, the day you took yours off was the day you knew it was over.

The rest of the ride felt tense. You felt silly over thinking the necklace. You figured he would have thrown them away at this point. When you finally got to the hospital, Bakugo went and found a parking spot. He went to walk in with you two but you shook your head.

“I’m not ready for the rumors to start surrounding Haru, so would you mind just hanging out here?” You whispered.

“Oh, yeah no you’re right, I’ll be here,” Bakugo nodded his head, looking a little disappointed. You climbed out of the car and grabbed Haru, who waved a tiny hand at Bakugo as the two of you walked towards the entrance.

You weren’t in the waiting room for long till you were called into the exam room. They did a few X-rays, and tests, on Haru. Then after about an hour you were sitting in the Doctor’s office as Haru played with his toys on the floor. The doctor say down across from you and showed you all of the test results.

“Well the good news is, Haru will most definitely have a quirk, his body is already adjusted to what his quirk would be,” The doctor smiled, “I’m guessing his father’s quirk has something to do with nitroglycerin?”

“Uh well we don’t actually know much about his father,” You lied, knowing Haru was paying attention now.

“Well Haru has high levels of it in his sweat glands according to the tests, but my only concern is that I think he has some kind of mental block keeping him from using his quirk,” The doctor explained, “You’re quirkless correct?”

“Uh yes sir, I am,” You nodded your head. Haru walked over to you and grabbed your hand. So you put him in your lap.

“Maybe he just won’t use his quirk because he doesn’t want to be different from you, since you are his sole provider,”

“No that’s not it,” Haru interrupted and you both looked at him, “It’s not Mommy’s fault, I just want to use my quirk when Dad comes back for us,”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“Haru sweetie, have you known about your quirk?” You whispered, and he nodded his head sadly.

“I accidentally blew up Mira’s doll at the playground, but made her promise to not tell her parents so you wouldn’t know,” Haru hung his head, and avoided eye contact. Like he did whenever he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“Haru you could’ve told me, then we wouldn’t have had to do all these tests, why didn’t you-”

“I just wanted dad to be the one to help me,” Haru cut you off again, his eyes watering. You let out a sigh and pulled him closer to you. The doctor nodded his head, smiling softly at you.

The two of you walked out to the car again. Bakugo’s head perked up at the sight of you both. He jumped out of the car and opened the door for you to put Haru in. Bakugo raised an eyebrow at the sad look on his face, and then looked at you.

“Tell me he has his quirk? Or at least a hope of one?” Bakugo asked, and you closed Haru’s door. Glaring at Bakugo, before walking over to your door. You climbed in the car and didn’t say a word until you got the park where Kirishima was meeting you guys.

“Hey, Haru why don’t you go with Uncle Ei and play while I talk to Katsuki?” You smiled at Haru, who climbed out of his seat and went to Kirishima who had opened the door for him. Kirishima closed the door and walked away with Haru. Bakugo looked towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” You whispered and Bakugo just looked even more confused, “Why did you fuck all of this up?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo’s tone was proof enough that he was annoyed. Not necessarily at you, but more so at the fact he could see Kirishima playing with his son so effortlessly.

“Cheat on me, leave me alone to raise him, leave him confused and upset because all he wanted was his dad,” Your eyes started water, tears threatening to spill over. Bakugo turned his head back towards you, your words stinging a little bit.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I didn’t know.” His voice was stern, “You can’t make me out to be the dead beat father in this situation (Y/n) I would have been there for him if I would have known he was alive,”

You let out a sigh of defeat, making eye contact with him. Bakugo felt his heart break at the look in your eyes. You looked.. Defeated.

“I know, I know it’s my fault okay?” You whispered, “I should have never kept him from you, I should have told you I was pregnant but I was selfish, and hurt, and-”

You were sobbing now. Your words falling off. Bakugo unbuckled your seat belt, and pulled you over the center console so you were sitting on him. He hugged you, tightly. Letting you let out every single sob, as he rubbed your back. You cling onto his shirt as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“I know why you were mad, and I don’t blame you but (Y/n), I would have been there for you both if I would have know,” He whispered against you, you pulled your head back and looked at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I still hate what you did to me, to our relationship, but Haru deserves to know his father,” You sighed, Bakugo reached up and wiped some of the stray make up on your face.

“So we’ll tell him?” He smiled hopefully, and you nodded.

“Eventually, eventually we will tell him, but for now I just want you to get to know him, ease him into it,” His smile faded a little but he knew you were right.

Bakugo stared at you and it settled in for him that it was never Momo. It was never once her for him, it was you. Back then, he was too scared to let himself admit it. Despite how long you two had been together when his affair with Momo started, he was scared. Scared of how much he could love a single person. Then he felt guilty because he had no reason to have that fear. He grew up watching his parents have that kind of love. It was his own selfish mindset that pushed him to that decision.. That pushed him to losing you.

You crawled back into your seat, flipping the visor down. Bakugo watched as you wiped the make up off your face. You turned back to look at him, smiling a little.

"I have a proposition for you, if you want to spend more time with him?" Your voice sounded a little nervous, and Bakugo grinned a little nodding his head, "Go to the wedding with us to the wedding? I mean you and Denki were friends right?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know how all of them must feel about me?" Bakugo laughed a little, and you shook your head looking back at Haru and Kirishima.

"They all love Ru, so much, so I think they will understand why I want you there, and besides Hitoshi does nothing but tell me to get back in the dating game," You rolled your eyes, and Bakugo laughed at you a little bit.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date if Dead Eyes is making jokes about it?" Bakugo was half teasing, and half curious what the answer was.

"Oh don't you start asshole, I have been raising our kid," You laughed, a genuine laugh. A laugh that made Bakugo's heart do some kind of internal flip. He smiled softly at you.

"You said our kid," He whispered, and you blushed a little.

"Our kid who is staring in here trying to figure out what's wrong," You laughed, pointing towards Haru who now had an adorable pout on his face. You climbed out of the car and ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him all crazy like. Bakugo smiled as he watched you two together. Realizing that all he ever wanted in life was right here, and in his reach again.

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

tagging all of the people who replied to hidden secrets part one <3

there is going to be a part three, and i promise for everyone who asked for bakugo suffering.. it is coming because i am feeling evil >:]

@girl-who-likes-cold-bois , @leximoron , @shyonigirichan , @tspice283 , @heyomie , @beigeunburdened , @xoxo-teddybear , @silentw-lkr , @semhal , @justmewoo , @jazzylove , @nolimitsam , @da1chisjuicywatermelons , @ayoooooooooooo

[btscontentenjoyer]

If OC is the one setting the standard for Jungkook, he's the one setting the standard for ME 😭😭😭

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.” Aw is that her dad :(( It really will take a while for everything to settle and the wounds to heal, he definitely could have supported her and done so much more for her. But at least there is hope for relationships and connections mending, if they were any good to begin with.

"That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered. Just, never as much as today." 🥺🥺🥺

"There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one." Yuppp, he could have been supporting her the whole time but instead he chose to stay silent, and that still brings a lot of pain, it's not only the being openly vile to her like her mother that hurts.

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?” She's so precious 🥺🥺🥺 trying to see the good in him when he so obviously didn't do enough.

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.” Aw I will always hope for OC's sake that her mother gets it together, no matter how much I don't like her.

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?” 🥺💕

"And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you." Yupppppppp!!

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.” They're so cuuuute. And I can attest as well that I've had to stop reading and collect my thoughts because of some things cmi Jungkook has said that have hit right in the feels.

"Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…" Good thing he didn't say that out loud because I don't know about OC, but that would persuade me for sure and there would be no one answering the door for the guests lmaoooo.

"Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…" They've come so far 🥺🥺

"He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t." Aaaah so excited about that 🥺🥺

"Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore." I'm so so happy about that too, so happy that OC feels happy <3

"Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?” AAAAAAAAAH!!!!! I love love love this moment from the series, it's definitely one of my favourites. I absolutely need to reread it now.

"He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—” 😳😳😳😳😳😳 This man, I swear!!

"Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning." He's so precious and I love him so much 💕💕

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 As I think I've said before, knowing how protective Jimin is of OC and the kinds of reservations he had about Jungkook, it really means a lot now that he's trying to warm up to him more.

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.” 🥺🥺🥺

"To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him." I wanna know too 👀👀👀👀

"If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already." All of them and their happiness are so precious to me <3

"He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands." Love these lines 🥺🥺🥺

"Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom." 💕💕💕

“Bedroom. Right now.” Lmaoooo the man has had enough 😤😤

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?” One thing about cmi Jungkook is he always knows exactly what to say and how to say it to reassure her 🥺🥺🥺 It feels so calming and sweet and yet so stern that there's no way you won't take him seriously and start to believe it yourself.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.” This is such an amazing feeling when it happens to you 🥺🥺 and even more amazing when you actually do get to spend your time with that person 🥺🥺

"You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate." Something I love so much about them 🥺🥺🥺

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.” 😭😭😭😭 this is so real honestly, when you find a person who doesn't meet your standards but actually builds them, you know you've found a keeper.

"You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him." I can't wait 🥺🥺🥺

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.” When this happens, I predict I will be freaking out about it as much as I was while reading the body painting scene. And that was a lotttt.

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.” Ugh I love Joon so much. And I love how him and OC are perfect at teaming up to reassure Jungkook.

"In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts." Aaaaaw

"You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?" Poor baby still has insecurities about not being good enough for her huh 🥺

"Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you." 🥺🥺🥺 What better cheerleaders are there?

"Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks." He's so in love!!!!!

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks." They're so similar and it's so cute!!

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.” 🥺🥺🥺 They believed in them that whole time and so did I.

"Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his." 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay." Pleaseeeee it was already so cute before but now repeating it makes me wanna cry for some reason 😭😭😭 Imagine someone loving you so fully and so truly that you literally need to do nothing else but be yourself for them to adore you and think about you constantly 😭😭😭 It also reminds me of how he wants her to be completely herself when she meets everyone because that's who he loves and he's so sure that everyone else will love her too without her needing to even try 😭😭😭

Cmi Jungkook is theeee standard, I've believed it since day one and he has come through and provided me with more evidence every step of the way. I love him so so much. And I can't wait to see the roadtrip because I love their lil friend group so much too 🥺🥺

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep. 

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?��

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching. 

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh… 

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end. 

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out. 

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round. 

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer. 

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up. 

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove. 

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym. 

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back. 

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring. 

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile. 

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a  cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off. 

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days. 

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused. 

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained. 

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…” 

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne. 

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him. 

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to. 

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head  and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry. 

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly. 

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added. 

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought. 

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down. 

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start. 

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed. 

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked. 

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities. 

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added. 

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing. 

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work. 

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.” 

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up. 

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down. 

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding. 

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could. 

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it. 

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head. 

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least. 

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him. 

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening. 

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette. 

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone. 

“Hello?” Harry answered. 

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit. 

“What do you want?” 

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up. 

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face. 

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him. 

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest. 

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off. 

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing. 

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness. 

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good. 

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys. 

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him. 

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.” 

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by. 

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out. 

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter. 

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner. 

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. 

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed. 

“Sure you guys are ready for that?” 

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words. 

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts. 

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing. 

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you. 

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head. 

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked. 

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members. 

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake. 

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting. 

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill. 

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?” 

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to. 

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy. 

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to. 

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before. 

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym. 

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings. 

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched. 

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape. 

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers. 

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier. 

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter. 

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone. 

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing. 

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough. 

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden. 

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly. 

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words. 

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class. 

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’ 

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working. 

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad. 

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable. 

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through. 

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked. 

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on. 

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands. 

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal. 

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head. 

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym. 

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle. 

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding. 

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout. 

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion. 

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered. 

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence. 

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him. 

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is. 

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested. 

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no. 

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room. 

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in. 

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?” 

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you. 

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch. 

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him. 

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.” 

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned. 

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions. 

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead. 

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts. 

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand. 

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing. 

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well. 

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring. 

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym. 

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile. 

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked. 

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour. 

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you. 

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever. 

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out. 

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked. 

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer. 

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore. 

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer. 

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last. 

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again. 

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout. 

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you. 

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left. 

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant. 

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color. 

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel. 

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out. 

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked. 

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.” 

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there. 

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.” 

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?” 

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?” 

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked. 

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month. 

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly. 

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily. 

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward. 

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’ 

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant. 

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved. 

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better. 

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did. 

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory. 

“How long have you been boxing?” 

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled. 

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’ 

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions. 

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out. 

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for. 

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words. 

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears. 

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream. 

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday. 

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well. 

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile. 

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better. 

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.” 

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities. 

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his. 

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain. 

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb. 

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him. 

“Really?” 

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding. 

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him. 

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship. 

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything. 

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to. 

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you. 

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you. 

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight. 

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students. 

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you. 

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?” 

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…” 

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.” 

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked. 

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago. 

“Is this about his mom?” 

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.” 

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted. 

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed. 

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out. 

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied. 

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him. 

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?” 

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added. 

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all. 

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. 

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.” 

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.” 

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how  Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner. 

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout. 

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked. 

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing. 

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face. 

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry. 

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door. 

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side. 

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay. 

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you. 

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.” 

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous. 

“Thank you, shall we?” 

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly. 

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking. 

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs. 

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift. 

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.” 

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. 

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you. 

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you. 

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive. 

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you. 

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours. 

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts. 

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested. 

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you. 

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened. 

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him. 

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say. 

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile. 

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily. 

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks. 

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together. 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it. 

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever. 

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day. 

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you. 

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside. 

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…” 

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-” 

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.  

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside. 

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.” 

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you. 

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you. 

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you. 

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break. 

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky. 

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car. 

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before. 

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags. 

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there. 

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands. 

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in. 

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears. 

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy. 

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you. 

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck. 

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him. 

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.” 

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible. 

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on. 

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter. 

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut. 

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears. 

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.” 

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer,  Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened. 

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled. 

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly. 

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added. 

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment. 

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.” 

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him. 

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections. 

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.” 

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over. 

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of. 

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone. 

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer. 

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days. 

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you. 

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows. 

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top. 

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry. 

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before. 

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted. 

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground. 

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you. 

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle. 

“Too busy for me?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself. 

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted. 

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night? 

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them. 

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold. 

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.” 

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?” 

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness. 

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.” 

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with. 

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared. 

 Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you. 

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you 

intimidating whatsoever. 

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one. 

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong. 

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?” 

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted. 

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry. 

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion. 

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both. 

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him. 

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for. 

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good. 

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him. 

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch. 

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them. 

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…” 

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration. 

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.” 

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met. 

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…” 

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.” 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees. 

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar. 

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground. 

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him. 

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.” 

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new. 

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late. 

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around. 

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream. 

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up. 

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well. 

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face. 

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?” 

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better. 

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak. 

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you. 

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears. 

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again. 

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips. 

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you. 

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you. 

You giggled. “I love you, baby-” 

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly. 

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands. 

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting. 

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach. 

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax. 

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more. 

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms. 

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better. 

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled. 

“Want you,” you simply stated. 

“You have me, angel.” 

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins. 

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you. 

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it. 

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you. 

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands. 

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple. 

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.” 

“Harry…” you blushed. 

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs. 

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.” 

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle. 

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?” 

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him. 

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan. 

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently. 

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body. 

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them. 

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see. 

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed. 

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.” 

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence. 

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.” 

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again. 

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster. 

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact. 

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body. 

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter. 

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure. 

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently. 

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle. 

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed. 

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it. 

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch. 

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.” 

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs. 

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back. 

“You think so?” 

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now. 

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go. 

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive. 

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor. 

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off. 

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum. 

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more. 

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing. 

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard. 

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness. 

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan. 

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy. 

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out. 

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job. 

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin. 

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…” 

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you. 

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high. 

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm. 

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago. 

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again. 

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest. 

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look. 

“And I love you too.” 

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him. 

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior. 

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager. 

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out. 

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him. 

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle. 

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate. 

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym. 

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen. 

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about. 

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable. 

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?” 

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked. 

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.” 

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Can- can I just talk about the Victuuri relationship? Pretty please?

I just…. I’ve never seen a healthy relationship that starts from idolization and a need to get out that has ended in a satisfying way.

Let me elaborate:

We all know that Yuri idolized Victor. It’s why he was so nervous in the beginning and why it took time for them to build on their relationship, he saw Victor as a god.

Victor? He was depressed. He loved the ice so much but he longer found excitement in competitions. He didn’t have any worthy opponents that had a chance of beating him (sorry Chris).

I believe Victor “fell in love” at the banquet. He was attracted to Yuri but, even though he lost, he also saw potential in him. That night was probably the most exciting night for him in a long time. I think he felt genuine affection for Yuri but also saw a way to get out of his predicament.

Then, of course, Yuri didn’t show up the following season (a year had passed before the present timeline). He was most likely annoyed that someone who had gave him excitement didn’t show up. Did he think Yuri had a chance of beating him at first? Probably not. Did he see potential or at least someone he could have fun with during the season? Hell yes!

And then when he saw the video of Yuri skating Stay Close To Me, something that awarded him a gold medal. That’s all he needed. He saw how Yuri not only skated it perfectly but I bet he thought Yuri skated it better. Let’s not forget that emotion is a huge part of skating. If you don’t skate with the passion your supposed to hold for whatever theme you have, your performance can almost seem futile. Victor obviously won because he perfected it but if it was based on how he presented it alone, he would’ve lost. He saw someone worthy of skating an gold medal piece while also having the heart to do it. That’s talent.

Anyways, because of this, their relationship doesn’t hold well in the beginning. He’s passive aggressive towards Yuri because he doesn’t see his own talent and Yuri is just going along for the ride because holy shit it’s Victor fucking Nikiforov.

As they get to know each other and Yuri opens up more (plus Victor getting info on Yuri from the others) Victor starts to see Yuri as an actual person and not someone he can use to project himself onto and then later skate against. And Yuri starts to see him as an actual person too.

I saw on another post talking about how we didn’t see them during the summer and how the end credits of every episode suggest they got to know each other better as both in the credits and in the show they (Yuri) are able to touch each other more. I 100% believe this.

I also believe they might’ve had an argument or two on this topic. It’s not easy to switch from inadvertently seeing someone as anything but a person to an actual person with emotions and feelings. I believe Victor would’ve tried to back away from this subject but Yuri wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t big arguments like in episode 7. It was probably little quarrels that annoyed them both but after having a long conversation they finally started to become more comfortable with each other.

Yuri started letting go of the notion that Victor was a god like creature and Victor saw him as something other than a pawn. Yuri stopped getting as embarrassed with Victor touching him and Victor stopped trying to seduce him as much just so he could see the man from the banquet.

This most definitely leads the way towards a healthier relationship but episode 7 was inevitable. Yuri’s anxiety was at an all time high when he comes out on top. The fact that he needs to stay on top and not mess up is getting to him. As a person with anxiety, it’s pure hell. The thoughts of failing won’t get out of his head and even as he turns off all the monitors he can still hear everything.

Victor takes him away from prying eyes and has no idea what to do. Despite an obvious change that would’ve had to include some emotions from both occurring over the summer, he still has no idea how to help someone in distress.

Then he makes his first mistake. Yuri is visibly shaken by someone’s scores (can’t remember who) and Victor, who is at his wits end, yells at him to stop listening and puts his hands over Yuri’s ears. This tells Yuri how nervous Victor is too and despite knowing that Victor wouldn’t leave him now it shows to him that Victor doesn’t have faith in him (even if he does).

Victor tried to shatter Yuri’s heart. He must’ve expected Yuri to maybe sign heavily but tell him that he’ll do everything in his power to win (probably something that’s happened with him and Yakov). Instead he see’s the consequences of his carelessness. Yuri rightfully lashes out at him and even through all that Victor stills says “should I kiss you?”. Idk what Yuri was thinking but if I were him I would be extremely offended that Victor would try and use me like some doll he can play with and can assume that physical affection and love can fix everything, which was probably what Yuri was thinking.

There’s something off about Yuri and Victor when they emerge but Yuri is surprisingly better now. Cathartic crying can do wonders, kids. There’s also my favorite part of the entire show (couldn’t find a gif):

*head jab* “Hey, fuck you.”

*more head jabs* “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I know you don’t like this you unempathetic dicknip.”

*head pat* “You’re forgiven.”

We all know what happens next: Yuri ends his love story with Victor’s signature move and Victor kisses him out of joy and the need to one up him (with love, of course).

I’m gonna get a little sloppy here with the timeline because I have the memory of a female protagonist that needs to go back to work to get something only to accidentally bump into the jerk CEO of which she will develop a toxic relationship for fan service, so forgive me.

Gonna skip ahead to the scene where Yuri tells Victor that he’s leaving skating, and basically Victor too. (At this moment I realized I’ve been spelling Viktor with a c and not a k which is really fucking with my brain but it’s too late to go back). Victor starts crying and realizes just how Yuri felt when he was rejecting him.

I believe Yuri found some light in the situation because of that fact, which Victor was not having. They’ve been closer than ever now. They’ve kissed, they’ve also announced they they’re getting married, so what the hell?!

Yuri, as we know, feels he’s keeping Victor from the ice. Victor, while he misses the ice and wouldn’t mind being competitive again, has found meaning and if he’s going to be Yuri’s coach to stay where he is than so be it.

He wanted to coach Yuri because he wanted a worthy competitor and while he still wants that, what matters most now is his relationship with Yuri. If he stops being Yuri’s coach and Yuri goes off the ice he knows it will be the end. Yuri loves the ice too and I’d bet he’d try to distance himself from Victor as to not feel regret from leaving without actually knowing that he’s doing it.

They’ve grown so much at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. After all they’ve been through Yuri doesn’t realize that consequences of parting from one another. While being too dependent on your spouse isn’t good, it’s what they both need right now. They are what caused the other person to be happy again and while I hate those types of storylines this one executed it perfectly.

I find Victor’s silent plea to Yurio absolutely heartbreaking. He knows it’s bad to put pressure on people but now he’s doing that to a 15 year old boy. He’s putting his relationship and his life into this child’s hands because he knows there’s nothing else he can do.

I do think Yurio had a crush on Yuri but even if he didn’t: Yuri has taught him so much. He, although being an ass most of the time, has really come to love Yuri as family. It’s clear that Yurio was always lonely (Otabek being his first friend and all) but once he came to Japan and lived, truly lived there, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Yurio wins, Yuri gets silver and all’s well that ends well.

I guess my point of this was to show how well the relationship in YOI was. I could’ve included some more detail on some points but I usually write stuff in one take (it’s very hard to revise without my mind shutting on itself).

I just love how an implicitly toxic relationship can come out so healthy. They don’t do any of that miscommunication bullshit and when they do it’s because the characters don’t know what to do or how to handle something. Like humans do!

They could’ve easily made this the hot famous guy thinks the kawai girl boy is just so adorable and the kawai girl boy is absolutely infatuated with the hot guy. Hijinks ensue which includes the kawai girl boy thinking the hot guy is in love with someone else. She He gets pushed into thinking that she’s he’s more independent in the end and happily ever after for the couple that will divorce in less than five years! Yay!

Seriously, I thought that was what was going to happen but YOI subverted my expectations so much. They are people that grew from their bad mindsets. And you know what? Yuri still has anxiety! Victor is still bad with handling emotions! And that’s ok! We don’t change that quickly. It takes time and hopefully another season.

I’m definitely using this show as a template for healthy relationships. It’s so hard for me to properly write them when I’ve never been in one and I’m not given the chance to see it happen in different environments (when searching it up all I get is “they trust each other. They blame each other. They’re compassionate.” Like ok but can you show me how?)

Yuri!!! On ice…. I love you so much. You have done so much for my mental health and my writing. Thank you.