#my dad came home with a new frying pan

[pages-and-1nk]

James potter is 100000% the type to get absolutely hyped up when it comes to kitchen appliances.

I just imagine he and Regulus moving into a bigger apartment or something, and James going out to buy them new ceramic pans as a celebration, and for the next week he’s ranting about the pan like-

“Oh my god, Reg, this pan is so smooth!”

“Regulus you have to try this pan nothing sticks.”

“Baby, have you tried the pan yet?”

“This pan is so easy to clean.”

Just being absolutely smitten with that goddamn ceramic pan and Regulus just nodding and humming because if James is happy so is he.

[demilypyro]

My parents both really liked that I was playing drums. But when I didn't improve at it, I lost motivation. But then the drumkit was just sitting there. And my mom kept offering to pay for more lessons. And it just got so stressful. Now I just associate drums with that stress.

I got really into building gunplas. But one night, my dad came home while I was building one in the living room, and he got mad at me. I haven't been able to build one since. I spent a lot of money on kits.... But they're just sitting there.... I told myself I'd build them after I moved..... But I still can't bring myself to do it.... Now I associate the kits with that stress.

When I moved out I told myself I would learn how to cook. But even my first attempt, frying some eggs, was a failure. After several attempts and advice from a friend, the conclusion was that the frying pan was just bad. So I spent money to buy a new one..... But I haven't even taken it out of the package..... Now I associate cooking with that stress.

I wanted to get back into drawing last year, so I bought a tablet and told myself I'd draw at least one thing every day.... But I was only able to draw from example. I wasn't able to draw anything original no matter how much I practiced. Then my hand started hurting really bad, and I learned you're supposed to take rest days.... I haven't drawn anything in months and months..... Now I associate drawing with that stress

Why am I like this

[sleepkey]

bad news I'm out of the frying pan and into the fire today was traumatizing my mom refuses to stay in the hospital and they can't keep her or she could sue... so she came home this afternoon but my dad wanted to stop them or at least prove a point so we locked the doors and distracted them enough to create a scene and resulted in a cop barging into my room which gave me a panic attack

complete shutdown today but kinda recovered I'm just so drained glad I took the day off work holy fuck

in good news my family that works in healthcare and live 7 hours away are coming to help and will be here tomorrow which might take some weight off me

idk how I'm still holding it together the amount of self harm and suicidal thoughts bombarding me is not a good sign

[indigo-blueses]

Once upon a time I tried cooking fish a certain way and it didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I first fried it in oil at high heat and it got stuck on the surface of the pan.😩

And my first thought was "well, it was probably because the heat was too much." 🥵🥵

And so the next time I tried frying it, I did it on low heat and still the fish got stuck to the pan and turn into little pieces. And I thought "maybe it's because of the pan I was using." 🍳🥘

So since that was the only type we had, I had to find a different way of cooking fish without it sticking to the bottom of the pan.(Of course I could've just roasted it in the oven but that takes too much time and more electricity)🕑⌛⚡

I wanted the easiest and quickest way possible. And so after going through a dew YouTube videos I came across a video where they the dish by first putting the tomatoes, garlic and onions and then putting the fish on top, that way it doesn't stick and it's easier to turn over. And so that's how I had been cooking fish for that entire time. 😇

Now a few days ago, my dad bought fish again. This fish looked different and so I decided to go back to frying it first and see if it would work and Lo and behold it worked!

It didn't stick to the pan and it was on high heat. No flour coating whatsoever. 🐟🐟

So now I was wondering what was different then and now and maybe it's because of the type of fish. Or the thickness of the skin.

Anyway the point of this story is about creativity. When we hear of people being creative, we sometimes think of artists, singers, actors etc. We never really see ourselves as creative unless we are doing artistic stuff like drawing, writing, painting or whatever. And so I remember reading somewhere about how being creative is in every living being. It's in our nature being creative. 🍥

Doing something a different way makes you a creative. Me deciding to cook that fish dish differently makes me creative. Deciding to take a different route home makes you creative.

Doing something different brings out a different outcome, sometimes something that we would've never imagined. And maybe by doing that you find a way of working that you weren't aware of.

Who would've thought my fish dishes would turn to smithereens. It tasted different, a nice different. Probably because of the texture. Would I intentionally cook it again? No.

But maybe if I was a chef looking to polish my culinary skills I would find a way to incorporate it into another dish where it creates the right flavour based on that texture.👨‍🍳🔪

And so doing something different might lead to new discoveries. So in what ways are you choosing to do things differently?🌱✨🌱

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

[she-talks-to-angels-14]

New Girl: An OBX Story

Part V: The Compass & Redfield

Part 4 Part 6

I do not own the rights to this gif

————————————————————————————————————————

(Y/N’s) POV

I was startled awake by the sound of my phone going off. “Hello?” I groaned answering the phone?

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” John B’s voice chimed through the phone.

“Good morning,” I responded. “Can I ask why you’re calling me and waking me up?”

“I was calling to tell you that you need to come to the chateau.”

“The what?”

“My house, JJ and I have some information on the guys who shot at us yesterday.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about that right now we’ll explain when you get here.”

“First off I have to know where here is.”

“I will text you my address.”

“Ok, let me get dressed and grab some food and I’ll be there.”

“Ok, I sent you my address, we will see you shortly.”

“See you shortly.”

I ended the phone call and rolled out of bed. I went to my bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my hair. After I ran my straightener through my hair a few times, I walked to my closet and found some jean shorts and an older t-shirt. If there is one thing I’ve learned being around John B and his friends it’s that you never wear any of your good clothes. You never know what you’ll get into. I put on some foundation and mascara and then made my way downstairs.

My mom was in the kitchen, the smell of bacon filled the house. I saw a plate of eggs and bacon in the frying pan. “What’s for breakfast mama?” I asked

“Bacon, eggs, and biscuits and gravy.” She smiled.

“You’ve gone all out this morning.”

“I just cooked what was requested by your dad.” She smiled. “You’re all dressed where are you going?”

“John B called and asked me to come over.”

“Oh” she sighed questioningly. “What for?”

“His dad has been missing for quite some time and he thinks he has found some clues to his disappearance.” I lied.

“Oh poor thing, I had no idea his father was missing.”

“I didn’t either until he told me yesterday while we were on the boat.” I sighed, “he’s getting everyone together to tell us his findings.”

“Oh okay.” She smiled, “are they still planning to come eat?”

“Absolutely!” I laughed.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, hopefully not too long.” I smiled “I will text you when I’m heading home.”

“Okay.”

I quickly made a plate of breakfast and sat down to eat. I quickly ate my eggs and bacon and took my time eating my biscuits and gravy. My moms biscuits and gravy were the best and I wasn’t in that much of a hurry that I couldn’t enjoy them. As I was taking my last bite my phone vibrated on the table. I looked down to see a text message come through.

John B: Where are you?

Me: Just finished breakfast leaving now.

John B: Hurry!

Me: Don’t get your boxers in a twist I’m coming!

John B: 👍🏻 see you in a few.

I got up from the table, took my plate to the sink and hugged my mom bye before I walked out the door. I climbed into my Jeep putting my key in the ignition and putting John B’s address into my GPS and cutting on my music. I put the car in gear and drove out of my driveway.

________________________________________

“You have arrived at your destination.” My GPS called out as I turned into the driveway of what is known as the chateau. I put the car in park and killed the engine. As I was getting out of the car I noticed there was a figure waiting on the porch. Although their back was turned I could tell by the brown curls flowing out from under the hat it was John B. I made my way to the porch where he was standing.

“It’s about time you got here!” He laughed as he embraced me in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I had to get dressed and eat before I came.” I rolled my eyes.

“Remind me if I ever take you out to tell you to be ready an hour before you should be!”

“Oh so you’re planning on taking me out sometime?”

“Uh maybe.” He stuttered, “that is if you want to.”

“We will see.” I smiled playing hard to get. “So what is so important that you had to have me here immediately?”

“Follow me.” He said leading me into his home and to the back porch where I was met by the gaze of Kie, Pope, and JJ.

“It’s about time you got here!” JJ joked.

“Look John B woke me up out of a dead sleep.” I said crossing my arms. “I had to get dressed and grab some breakfast.”

“I see you have on some makeup, which of us are you trying to impress?” He asked.

“Bless your heart.” I laughed, “you think I put on makeup to impress you? That’s real cute JJ. If you must know I’m trying to impress one of the kooks”

The porch was filled with laughter from everyone except JJ. He didn’t particularly find my joke funny.

“Hey Jay, pick up your jaw off the floor or you’re gonna be catching flies.” Kie laughed.

JJ straightened up and ran his hand across his face. I could tell he was still reeling from my comment. If he only knew I would choose him or John B over any of those boys from Figure 8. I like a guy who’s down to earth and doesn’t have things handed to them, they work for it. I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of JJ’s voice.

“And we’re right outside against the house like this.” JJ says leaning against the side of the house. “All I hear is bam! bam! bam! Paint was getting knocked off the wall from the inside! Look at this” he says making his way over to where we’re sitting. He leans down and starts scratching his scalp.

“JJ that’s dandruff.” I said rolling my eyes at him.

“That’s paint flakes babe!” He says.

Did he just call me babe? Should I call him out or pretend I didn’t notice. Before I had the chance to say anything he was back telling the story.

“At that point, I was waiting for death.” He sighed.

“So you saw the guys who shot at us?” Pope asked.

“Yeah,” JJ replied

“Did you get a good description of them?” Pope asked. “Anything we can bring to a police report.”

“Yes anything is helpful!” Kie exclaimed.

“Burly.” JJ responded.

“Burly?” Kie and Pope asked in unison.

“That’s not very helpful,” I chimed in.

“Okay, like the type of guy that works at dad’s garage.” JJ said.

“Yeah, No.” we all said in unison.

“I can tell you with complete confidence,” he said lighting a cigarette. “These guys are killers.” He took a drag. “They’re square groupers.”

“Like narco square groupers?” Pope asked, “like Pablo Escobar?”

“Yeah man.” JJ sighed.

“What did they look like specifically?” Pope asked.

“I don’t I wasn’t taking mental pictures!” JJ shouted, “I was under duress!” His voice squeaked. “But I can tell you the way Ms. Lana was screaming, these guys are serious hombres.”

“Why do they want the compass?” Kie asked.

“The things a piece of shit.” Pope stated, “no offense John B.”

“The office.” John B said to no one in particular.

“What?” Pope asked.

“My dad’s office.” John B said walking inside. “He kept it locked so no one could steal his Royal Merchant research and since he left I’ve left it how he kept it.

He lead us to a locked door that I am assuming is his dad’s office. He opened the door and went inside where he found a cork board full of pictures. The pictures on the cork board were all of men in John B’s family who had owned the compass at one point and died in freak accidents leading the compass to be passed down to the next in line.

“My dad said there was a secret compartment that soldiers would hide notes in the compass.” He said taking the compass apart. “That’s my dad’s handwriting.”

“How do you know?” Pope asked.

“The Rs.” John B said.

“What’s that say?” JJ asked.

“Redfield.” I replied.

“What’s Redfield?” Kie asked.

“Besides the most common name in the county?” Pope asked sarcastically?

“Maybe it’s a clue?” John B asked.

“If it is a clue it could be an anagram.” Pope said.

“Yes you’ll need paper,” John B replied.

Different words starting with one of the letters in Redfield were being thrown about the room while John B searched through some drawers.

Looking out the window I saw a black truck pull into the driveway. “Guys were we expecting anyone?” I asked.

“No why?” JJ questioned.

“Well someone is here.” I pointed out the window.

Everyone made there way to the window. “Guys is that them?” Kie asked with worry in her voice.

“John B I told you.” JJ said walking away from the group.

“Look at me.” John B said chasing after him, “where’s the gun?”

“The gun?” JJ responded, “I, I can’t.”

“You don’t have the gun?” Kie asked, “the one time we need it?”

“It was in my backpack,” JJ gulped. “It’s on the porch.” JJ took off out the door to go get his gun.

“John Routledge!” An unfamiliar voice called out.

JJ came running back in the room empty handed and shut the door. “They’re on the front porch, I couldn’t get it.”

Crashing noises followed by shouting came from the other rooms of the house.

“We have to get out of here.” I said.

Pope, John B, and I leaned against the door to keep it shut while Kie and JJ tried to open the window. The next thing I know someone is kicking the door. Instinctively I grab John B’s hand bracing myself for another kick to the door when Kie and JJ get the window to finally open.

One by one we file out of the window, John B was finishing closing the window when a shot rang out through the house, one of the men must have shot the door to get it open. We made our way over to the chicken coop to hide. Looking out the side of the coop we were able to see the two men walking out of the house carrying boxes of John B’s father’s research. The men were about to get in the truck when the rooster started freaking out.

“Oh god.” I sighed.

“Someone shut it up.” JJ whisper yelled.

“What do I do?” Pope asked.

The smaller of the two men heard the commotion and started walking towards the coop. John B and I leaned back against the wall attempting to avoid detection. He grabbed both mine and Kie’s hand in an attempt to calm our nerves. JJ had caught the rooster and a snapping noise filled the coop. I placed my free hand over my mouth to keep from making any noise and tears began to roll down my cheeks. I felt movement next to me as JJ sat down and placed his arm around me as he pulled me into his side.

“It’s going to be okay.” JJ whispered

“I hope so,” I whimpered, “you broke the roosters neck.”

“I had to keep ya’ll safe.” JJ sighed, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Ratter what are you doing?” One of the men called. “Let’s go!”

When we heard the truck pulling out of the driveway everyone in the chicken coop breathed a sigh of relief and then we began crawling out of the coop. Kie and I were both visibly shaken and in desperate need of some cleaning up. She grabbed my hand and we made our way into the chateau to the bathroom. I looked at my reflection and saw the trail of black running slightly down my cheeks Kie was nearly identical to me.

“You know,” she said wiping her face gently, “they both like you.”

“What?” I asked stunned, “are you referring to John B and JJ?”

“Yes, they both have a thing for you, JJ just seems to act upon it a little more than John B.”

“So the plan yesterday was because he liked me?” I wiped my cheeks gently, “John B grabbing my hand to comfort me today?”

“Yes (Y/N) you came into town and something in them clicked.”

“JJ isn’t as JJ as normal and John B he’s actually opening up which is something I haven’t seen since his dad disappeared.”

“Oh.” I said trying to process everything that has been laid out for me.

“I don’t want to see either of them hurt so please don’t string them along.”

“Kie, I’m not like that, it’s been done to me before and I do not do people like that.”

“I just don’t want to see them get hurt.”

“Kie I completely understand that.” I sighed, “to be honest I think they are both very attractive and great guys, but I don’t know if I could choose between them, for fear it would ruin a friendship between them and for me with the other one.” I put my head on my hands. “Not to mention, I’m not sure if I’m ready to get into something with someone just yet.

“I understand that,” she smiled. “I just thought you should know, and to be honest I haven’t seen you do anything to string them along. I’m just protective they’re like my brothers.”

“I get that and thank you for letting me know.” I hugged her.

We made our way out to the porch only to be greeted by a pretty blonde girl.

“Have you guys seen John B?” She asked, “I need to talk with him.”

“He’s out at the shed,” Kie replied and the girl sauntered off.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Sarah Cameron,” she replied rolling her eyes. “JB worked for her dad but he fired him today because he found out about the scuba gear.”

“So she’s Rafe’s sister,” I said pointedly. “She must be just as bad as him.”

Kie remained silent as she walked to meet Pope and JJ around back. I followed her but I won’t lie felt a weird sense of jealousy rush through my body when I thought about John B being alone with Sarah.

We reached the back porch and I was met by JJ’s sea blue eyes and in that moment that jealousy dissipated. I took a seat in the hammock and listened to the group talk about Sarah for a few minutes. I looked down at my phone and realized what time it was.

“I should be going guys,” I said lifting myself up from the hammock. “I need to get home and help my mama with dinner. I’ll see y’all this evening.”

“Here let me walk you to your car.” JJ shot up.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said to him as he walked towards me.

“I know I don’t have to,” he said putting his arm around my waste. “I want to.” The flip my stomach did when those words left his mouth nearly made me throw up.

“If you say so.” Was all I could manage to say back to him.

Once we arrived at my car he walked me around to my door and proceeded to open it for me.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” I giggled.

“I try miss.” He said in his best British accent.

“You know you’re kind of cute when you’re being all gentlemanly.” I said without realizing what had just come out of my mouth.

“I would say you’re cute all the time but I’d be lying.” He said as my heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach.

It took all I had in me not to cry instead I turned on my heel to get into the jeep. Here I was thinking we were having a moment and he just completely ruined it. I felt a hand around my wrist pull me and turn me around to look at JJ. Our faces were now inches apart and he had this look on his face as if he had just ran over a puppy.

“You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.” He sighed, “saying you’re cute would be a lie because you are not cute (Y/N), you’re beautiful.” As the words fell from his lips my heart nearly beat out of my chest. He called me beautiful. In that moment I couldn’t help but want to kiss him.

Without hesitation I closed the gap between us bringing our lips crashing together. He tasted faintly of cigarettes, but I didn’t mind, the way his lips molded to mine felt like they were meant for each other. He brought his hand to my cheek cupping my face, deepening the kiss. When we finally pulled away we were both breathless a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry about that.” I said franticly, “I really should be going.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He smiled.

“Bye I will see you later.” I said climbing into my Jeep and putting it in gear. JJ waved as I backed out of the driveway that small smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

________________________________________

John B’s POV

I was out in the shed when I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I was secretly hoping it was (Y/N) but when I turned around I was greeted by Sarah Cameron.

“What are you doing here?” I asked venom in my voice.

“I came to apologize about dad.” She sighed.

“You mean apologize for getting me fired?”

“John B I didn’t tell him I swear!”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know! But I know I kept my promise!” She shouted, “it’s not my fault you stole our gear!”

“I was trying to find clues to dad’s disappearance!”

“Look John B I understand why you did it. I just came to say I was sorry and yo tell you it wasn’t me who ratted you out.” She said turning on her heels to walk away.

“I’m sorry, the situation is just frustrating.” I sighed, “thank you for not ratting me out.”

She just smiled and walked out of the shed. As she was making her way out I saw (Y/N) and JJ standing by her car. It looked like he had said something that had upset her. She had turned away and went to get in her car when she was stopped by JJ grabbing her. He turned her around to face and began speaking to her. I could see her body language soften as he spoke. They were unbearably close, close enough they could kiss. She starred at him for a few moments letting his words sink in, and that’s when it happened. They kissed, I wasn’t quite able to tell who initiated it but there it was. They were lip locked right before my very eyes.

I didn’t know what to think, my emotions were running high and I was starting to see red. I was jealous, jealous of a kiss that could have meant nothing but I couldn’t stop myself from marching over to where JJ stood.

“What the hell was that?” I seethed.

“Dude calm down,” JJ said raising his hands defensively. “She initiated the kiss I didn’t.

“Yeah but you sweet talked her!”

“I simply told her she was beautiful. I didn’t sweet talk her or make any kind of move you’re thinking I did!”

“Hey hey hey!” Pope shouted getting between us. “Calm down you two! It’s not worth fighting over!”

“Pope is right!” Kie shouted as she walked over, “I’m sorry JB but having Sarah Cameron come here didn’t help your case.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I saw the look on her face when Sarah asked her where you were.” She rolled her eyes, “it’s possible she believe something is going on there.”

“Oh so I’m second best?” JJ asked.

“No Jay, I’m saying maybe Sarah showing up solidified who she had feelings for.” Kie responded

“What do you mean Kie?” I asked

“JB you’ve been less flirty with her, Sarah shows up makes her think that’s why you are t flirty, JJ has been showing her that he has feelings, what I’m saying is Sarah sent the wrong message.” She rolled her eyes.

“You women are too confusing,” JJ sighed.

Kie just rolled her eyes and went back to the porch. I was lost in thought, Kie was right Sarah could have sent the wrong message and then the fact that I haven’t been trying near as hard as JJ likely didn’t help my case.

I needed some time to myself and I asked everyone to leave for a bit and they obliged. Once everyone was gone I had gone back to my dad’s office and started looking through his things. On a cork board was a name and that name finally made the clue in the compass stick.

________________________________________

JJ’s POV

I was still mind blown from that kiss so I was zoning in and out of the conversation. We were on our way to (Y/N)’s for dinner and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about seeing her after that kiss.

“So I was doing some digging in dad’s office when I stumbled across something.” John B proclaimed.

“What?” I asked.

“Redfield, I thought it was a place.” He said proudly, “Redfield is a person.”

“Who?” Kie asked.

“My great-great grandmother Olivia.” He stated, “her maiden name was Redfield.”

At that point I had zoned back out and missed a few key pieces of the conversation until (Y/N)’s name was mentioned.

“After dinner I’m going to ask (Y/N) if she wants to go with us to the crypt.” John B said plainly.

“I’m sure she’ll go,” Kie replied. “We haven’t scared her off yet.”

Kie was right we haven’t scared her off yet and I sure hope we don’t. She fits in with us really well. Not to mention she’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl. I had zoned back out and missed the rest of the conversation. When I came back to earth we were turning into (Y/N)’s driveway and suddenly my heart started racing and I was a ball of nerves.

The Twinkie came to a stop and soon we were filing out of the van. Once we reached the ornate wooden door John B knocked and we were soon greeted by Mrs. Landry. (Y/N) was truly the spitting image of her mother, they both had gorgeous dark brown hair and emerald green eyes.

“Come in y’all.” She smiled stepping to the side of the door.

“Thank you Mrs. Landry,” John B smiled as he entered the house.

A heavenly aroma filled the air as we walked into the house, “Mrs. Landry the gumbo smells amazing.” I said as I inhaled the wonderful aroma.

“Why thank you!” She smiled, “Scott, (Y/N), we have company!”

Mr.Landry came from what I’m assuming is the living room and (Y/N) was making her way down the stairs. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and minimal makeup on, even when she wasn’t trying she was beautiful.

“Hey y’all,” she said once she made it to the first floor.

“Hey,” we all chimed in together.

“Welcome to our house,”she giggled. “We’re still getting situated so ignore the mess.”

“What mess?” Kie asked sarcastically , “I see no mess.”

(Y/N) just giggled and she lead us to the dining room for dinner.

“Take a seat wherever y’all want,” she said as she was sitting down. John B took the seat on her right and I sat down in the seat on her left. Mrs. Landry came through the dining room door with a large pot and sat it in the middle of the table. Mr. Landry followed with a smaller pot and then soon they disappeared again only to return with another pot and a stack of bowls.

“Alright y’all, the big pot is the gumbo,” Mrs. Landry smiled. “The two medium pots have rice and potato salad. Dig in!”

Everyone made their bowls of gumbo and quickly sat down and began eating, not a word was spoken until everyone was done eating.

“That was amazing Mrs. Landry.” Kie said.

“Why thank you!” She smiled at her, “I’m glad you all liked it!”

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a while!” John B exclaimed.

“Thank you for inviting us.” I said

“Y’all are very welcome!” She exclaimed, “y’all are always welcome here.”

“Do you need any help with cleaning up mama?” (Y/N)

“No dear y’all go hang out.” Mrs. Landry stated.

“Yes ma’am,”(Y/N) replied as she made her way out of the dining room as the rest of us followed.

________________________________________

(Y/N)’s POV

We were sitting out on my back porch and John B was filling me in on his theory about the etching in the watch.

“I believe it has something to do with my great- great grandmother.” He said, “Redfield was her maiden name.”

“So it’s a person not a place?” I asked.

“I think so, we’re going to check out the Redfield crypt later tonight. Do you want to come?”

“Yeah I will come.” I smiled.

“Great!” He smiled.

We sat around the back porch and talked for a little while longer until nightfall. Once it was dark they decided it was time to go to the crypt and see if we could find anymore clues. Because of the events of the last couple of days I was honest with my parents about what we were doing. I explained to them that John B found the compass and the inscription and that he believes it has something to do with his great-great grandmother so we were going to check out her grave. Surprisingly they were ok with it seeing as I was upfront and honest with them. My dad just asked that I take something with me to defend myself in the event of danger.

We loaded up in the Twinkie and made our way to the cemetery. I was sitting in the back seat with Kie and Pope when Kie caught me off guard.

“So you and JJ kissed?” She asked.

“I truly don’t know what happened.” I sighed, as I thought of our conversation at the chateau. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues, I swear.”

“I get it sometimes things just happen, but John B saw and was not the happiest.”

“He had Sarah Cameron here. I thought they had something going on.”

“Ha!” She chuckled, “no she came to defend herself that she didn’t rat JB out.”

“Oh” I sighed.

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by JJ claiming we were pulling up at our destination.

We all filed out of the Twinkie and made our way to the Redfield crypt. We walked through the cemetery until we found a crypt that had overgrown plants and vines around it with the name Redfield in large letters visible on the outside.

“Pope help me with the door.” John B commanded.

Pope obliged and they attempted to open the crypt’s door but to no avail when JJ jumped in to help. The three of them continued pushing on the door until a hissing noise caused everyone to back away. Out of a crack in the cement wall of the crypt came a snake tumbling to the ground.

“That’s a cottonmouth!” JJ and I said in unison.

JJ began barking at the snake, prompting John B to tell him to hush. Followed by JJ arguing that snakes are afraid of dogs. I looked over to Kie and she rolled her eyes, this must be a common occurrence between the two boys.

“John, we’re not getting in there.” Pope said defeated, “we should probably just go.”

“I can get through,” Kie said blankly.

“What?” The boys asked

“You think your gonna fit through that hole?” John B asked.

“This is about your dad,” she said. “Honestly I don’t believe in it but you deserve to know the truth.”

“I’ll go with you, Kie,” I said.

John B had a grateful expression on his face as he started tearing down the overgrowth on the door with JJ and Pope joining in. A pathway was finally cleared and John B ordered JJ to help Kie and I into the crypt. He squatted against the wall lacing his fingers together for us to step on and him to help lift us up.

“Remind me what we’re looking for.” Kie ordered before going inside.

“You’ll know when you see it.” John B responded.

Once we were inside Kie and I began looking around. John B was anxious you could tell by how many times he checked in on us. Kie went in one direction while I went in the other, slowly scanning the crypt.

“Did y’all find anything?” John B asked?

“Oh my god!” Kie exclaimed.

“What?” Everyone asked at the same time.

Kie said nothing all she did was pull an envelope out of a crevice and hand it back through the hole. She then made her way back out to the other side and I followed suit. Once we were back with the guys John B examined the envelope.

“Holy shit,” he cried. “This is from my dad.”

The joy John B felt was short lived, in the distance you could hear a vehicle approaching.

“Code red!” JJ called out. “Square groupers!”

“Go!” Kie ordered. With that we all took off running away from the crypt and the approaching vehicle. We shut off our flashlights and pressed our bodies against the wall of a crypt nearby.

“It’s the guys who robbed your house,” JJ whispered.

“Do you think it’s them?” Kie asked leaning over the corner of the wall.

“They have a gun.” JJ said.

“Screw this,” Kie said as she stood up and took off running to the gate. We all followed her and climbed the gate to get to the Twinkie. We made it to the van and quickly left the cemetery and went to the chateau.

Once we made it to the chateau we all went inside and circled around John B to see what was in the envelope. He quickly ripped the tab off the envelope and pulled out a map and a tape recorder. He hit the play button and the room was filled with the gruff voice of an older man.

“I hate to say I told you so,” the voice stated. “But I told you so and you doubted your old man. At this moment you’re probably riddled with guilt over our last fight, but hell I didn’t expect to find the merchant either.”

The look on John B’s face when he heard his father’s voice again broke my heart. He continued to listen to the message and when it was finally over he walked away. Once he made it to the doorway he leaned against the frame of the door and began sobbing. My heart was breaking for him, listening to the tape with us and not his father meant that his father was no longer alive and I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling.

“Big John did it!” JJ shouted.

“Can you not?” Kie scolded him.

I walked over to John B and wrapped my arms around him. His sobs shook his entire body and I couldn’t help but hold on to him tighter.

“I’m so sorry, John B.” I whispered.

He didn’t respond instead he turned around to face me and buried his head in my shoulder. I held him and ran my hands through his hair trying to comfort him until his sobs subsided.

“Thank you.” He said lifting his head from my shoulder. “For just letting me break down for a few minutes.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” I smiled. “I know you were upset and I’m okay with being a shoulder to lean on when it’s needed.”

“Thank you again.” He smiled.

“You’re welcome, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

When we turned around the rest of the group had disappeared. I guess they stepped away to give John B time to process what he had just learned about his father.

“Where is everyone?” I asked turning around and nearly smacking into John B.

“Maybe out on the dock.” He said as he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You almost jumped out of your skin when you turned around.”

“I didn’t realize you were right there it took me off guard.”

“I’m sorry,” he laughed “but seeing you a little scared was pretty funny.”

“Wow remind me never to be nice to you again.” I said turning around, “since you’re making fun of me now.”

“Come here,” he said grabbing my wrist and spinning me around. “I was only picking with you. Thank you for being my shoulder to lean on earlier.”

“I guess I can forgive you.” I giggled.

“Good,” he said wrapping me in a hug and kissing the top of my head. “Come on let’s go find the others.”

We made our way outside where we heard Kie, Pope, and JJ talking. We followed their voices to the dock. Once we reached the dock they engulfed John B in a group hug. Each of them expressed their condolences to him. We all sat in silence for a while until it was broken by JJ?

“How much was it again?” He asked.

“Four hundred million” Pope replied.

“Alright let’s talk about how we’ll split the money,” JJ said. “I think I deserve a bigger share since I’m the only one who can properly protect us.”

“No,” Kie and Pope said together.

“What are you doing with your share?” Kie asked Pope.

“I’m going to pay for college in advanced,” He said. “What about you Kie?”

“I just want to make a double album.” She said happily.

“I know what I’m gonna do,” JJ chimed in. “I’m gonna get a big house on Figure 8 and go full kook. What are you going to do (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know if I deserve a cut,” I said honestly, “but I’d use the money to open my own animal shelter. What about you John B?”

“To going full kook.” John B smiled and raised his drink in the air.

“To going full kook.” We all cheered and raised our drinks to meet his.

We sat on the dock talking for a little while longer until we were nearly falling asleep.

“I really should be getting home guys.” I said as I stood to my feet.

“So should I,” Kie agreed. “I can give you a ride she said.”

“That’d be great.” I smiled.

We gathered our things and hugged the boys goodbye and made our way to Kie’s car. The ride home was quiet we were both too drained to talk. Her car pulled up my driveway and she let me out, I thanked her and made my way inside. My parents were already asleep so I went straight to my room. I took a shower and got ready for bed. The second my head hit my pillow I was out, my dreams filled with images of JJ and John B.

Tag list:

@jjpogueprincess @khiaraaa-in-spacee

[moonyoon5839]

Reunion

A little peek: A new member in the dorms or a family reunion

Warnings: none

Setting: 2011/??/??

Jia lost track of time.

Again.

She was practicing and after that she went to Yoongi's studio and did her homework. Today was a day off.

Plan of the day

Homework, Practice, Eat, Rest

And repeat

It was currently 11pm. Yoongi didn't even bother to check the time and Jia was desperate to finish 2 weeks worth of homework. Jia already knew that she will have almost no time to do her homework so she was doing it before hand.

"We're doomed."

"Yeah we're gonna die once Jin hyung sees us."

The dorms weren't that far away so they walked the way back.

A few months ago, Jin came and joined the dorm. And the thought of him already scared Yoongi. He cooked for them, did the laundry, and almost everything. He became the boss of the house in no time.

Namjoon and Yoongi were the first ones. Then Jia came. At first, they were confused on why a 10 year old was going to live at the dorms.

'Dad and Mom came back to Korea a few years ago. I didn't want to trouble them by moving and doing all that again. They weren't against the idea of me being a trainee so I insisted on living in a dorm. But I was still 9 when I was scouted so my parents told the company to wait and here I am.'

Namjoon was not going to lie and say he wasn't surprised. She was way mature than he thought. He was worried that she might get homesick but she looked fine too. They weren't strangers anyway. She met both of them when she came to Seoul for the first time(Yoongi) and the second(Namjoon).

After Jia, the human sunshine, Hoseok and lastly Seokjin came.

"We're back."

"Oh, looks like they're back."

Yoongi was a bit surprised that he wasn't waiting behind the door with a frying pan in his hand. He was almost sure that his only Hyung was going to kill him for being late and not bringing Jia, his new baby back home in time.

"Who's he talking too?"

"Don't know."

Both Jia and Yoongi were sure that it wasn't either Hoseok or Namjon he was talking too. There was an unfamiliar pair of shoes too. Pairs of shoes.

It wasn't that far till the living room so they got the answer real quick. Yoongi had a question mark on his head while Jia didn't have much of a reaction. Jia knew the 2 young girls that was sitting in the small living room.

"Kim Nayeon and Choi Siyeon?"

A very familiar name. very. Currently Wednesday so Jia met them yesterday too.

"Unnniiieeee!!!!!" "We missed yoooouuuu!!!!"

They both totally forgot that somebody was going to join the dorms. Namjoon told them yesterday but they had other things to do than wonder who was coming.

"What the fu-"

"No cussing. And we're gonna have a long talk young man."

Well, he's dead. Yoongi kinda knew that Jia wouldn't get a 3 hour scolding and just Jin nagging for 10 minutes and lastly a kiss on the forehead. Of course.

But who were they?

"It's not like we didn't see each other yesterday. And where are your manners, say hi to him too." Jia, team captain mode on.

"Right, Hello My name is Kim Nayeon. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Choi Siyeon. Please take care of us!"

"Uhhmmmm....... Hi? Min Yoongi. Nice to meet you I guess."

Yoongi and Seokjin remembered Jia saying she had 4 close friends. By the way she allowed them to take a shower with her (by convincing her with puppy eyes for 3 minutes straight), they had a guess that it was 2 out of the 4. She described the group as a family that knew each other too well and couldn't be at ease when even one was missing.

The're still talking, Jia warned them to be quiet but they get excited when meeting each other so their volumes were not easy to control. She met them yesterday but they had so much to talk about.

The source of sound left to take a shower, leaving the 2 oldest in an awkward silence. Those new girls were loud as hell. Not that he was complaining, just maybe they could be a little quieter in the night time? Seokjin could imagine the neighbors complaining about the noise once they start to get comfortable.

"So Hyung, they are...?"

"They are the people Namjoon was talking about a few days ago. They will be living in the dorms for I don't know how much.

I swear Jia has the most talented friends. You remember the last monthly evaluation?"

"....No"

"The team those 2 were in got the second place. They are from JYP but changed to Bighit because Jia and the rest of the little group lives near. The things they do to just stay close."

"Then that means they are Jia's teammates too. Ah, the twins she was talking about."

Jia talked about her friends that she thought of as a sister to her Hyungs almost a thousand times, they had basic information about them (not something too personal of course). She described Nayeon and Siyeon as a twin, even soulmates because of how they act like when one of them is not by their side.

"Yeah, they won last years cup tournament, they are currently Seoul's No.1 team, elementary school category. We went to watch the game,"

"The things she does..."

"I know right, not only her but her friends too- WAIT! don't get me off the topic, you have some serious explaining to do."

and here we go again

"I'm sorry Hyung, after having dinner, we lost track of time."

"Still! You should be careful young man! You promised me to bring Jia back if she's with you until 10! And you're an hour late! You hear me?! An HOUR! She's still 11, she needs a healthy sleep schedule! AND today you needed to be back until 9! That makes it 2 HOURS!! I swear if she catches a cold again this week then it's your fault! She has a weak body for god knows what reason and you can't just speed up the process of making her sic-"

That went on for a good 30 minutes. By the time Seokjin had finished his little long ass speech, the 3 came out of the bathroom with their hair dried and ready to go to bed. Siyeon and Nayeon was okay with staying up late but Jia was not a morning person nor a night-owl. She looked like she could lay down and sleep the next second.

"Where are they going to sleep?"

"They are going to use the spare room." Seokjin answered way calmer than he was just a few minutes ago.

"Kay, you guys can go to bed by yourselves right?"

"Of course, we aren't babies anymore."

"Good night." She lightly patted their heads (their silent way of letting the others know their presence, the boys will know later on) and went to her room.

"Night, Unnie!" "Good night!"

It was the next day, when Hoseok went to Jia, Yoongi and Seokjin's shared room to wake her up. The older 2 were already up, leaving her alone in the room. But when he got there, he saw 3 bodies sleeping so close together that he could see parts of the small bed empty.

Later on, he heard from Siyeon that they couldn't sleep the other day because of the new environment and went to Jia's room and cuddled.

Breaking News

Jung Hoseok has tripped on nothing and hit his head because of his younger member's cuteness.

See more➢ Master list

[hostile-heros]

Hey bud you might wanna worry about the whole god thing later. I dunno the last time you ate something, and it’s better to eat and hydrate while you can. You’ve been through a lot : (

CONNOR: "Huh. That's right I haven't eaten like the whole day."

PUMPKIN: "That's probably why you nodded off to sleep earlier. Cant eat? Sleep. Can't sleep? Eat."

CONNOR: "Yeah makes enough sense."

PUMPKIN: "Oh! By the way Dad started on making sausages, at least when I came back in here anyway. So they should probably be done by now. You want dinner?"

CONNOR: "Aw hell yeah I want dinner!"

The monkey boy promptly hops out of bed, ruffling his hair to not be an absolute mess as he follows his friend out of their room and into the kitchen where Pumpkin's father seemed to be carefully taking out many sausages out of a frying pan, being careful to not be hit by the boiling hot oil in the pan.

PUMPKIN: "Papa! Is dinner ready yet?"

PAPA: "Almost champ. Just need to get the the plates out and serve it up and get the sauce out of the cupboard. Your mother's in the bathroom right now could ya come help me get the plates?"

PUMPKIN: "Okay!"

Before xey go to help their father. Xey turn to Connor.

PUMPKIN: "Feel free to sit down at the dinner table., just not that chair that's my chair."

After pointing to show which chair to not sit on, they rush off to help. Connor, not really knowing what else to do. Takes a sit at the table. And is suddenly hyperaware of how awkward sitting and waiting is when you don't have a mobile phone.

' Do. Do phones even exist here? Probably not. Oh god I am going to lose my daily streak on Jetpack Joyride aren't I? Fuck. '

He eventually decides on using another mildly concerning skill he has to pass the time! Dissociation! He just sits there, mentally checking out and instead thinks about various other things as he stares forward. Probably looking very odd.

Eventually dinner does get served up and Connor gets snapped out of his trance of ignoring awkward by hearing a door open, looking over he sees a Luxray walking into the room. She looks a bit tired but happy. That must be Pumpkin's mom. She does have the same navy pelt colour. So according to all situational context that must be correct. If not. Then that's... Yeah.

PUMPKIN: "Mama! Sausage dinner!!!"

MAMA: "Oh! We haven't had that in a while."

PAPA: "Yeah. The travelling cart hasn't brought many meat products in a while. Probably due to the disasters n' stuff."

MAMA: "Aah makes sense. Oh. Who's this?"

She gestures towards the table where Connor is sitting there, kind of staring. He simply lifts a hand and waves.

PUMPKIN: "That's Connor! He's my new friend! I met him on Sunshine Beach!"

CONNOR: "Helloooo."

MAMA: "Oh! Little Pumpkin hasn't made a new friend in so long! I'm glad you decided to stay over for dinner! Are you new to the area? We haven't seen many Chimchar families in this area."

CONNOR; "Uh. No I don't think I'm from this area. I am rather excited for dinner though!"

' Please for the love of every spirit that likes me please let me have dinner first so I can panic think of a lie to tell while I eat. Please please just let me eat food- '

PAPA: "That's good! Because its right here!"

Pumpkin brings over two plates full of sausages and some steamed vegetables! Placing one in front of Connor then sitting in their chair next to him.

' D U D E Y E S. '

The parents grab their own plates and sit at the other side of the table. Pumpkin has already started eating so Connor takes that as his cue to start eating as well, picking up his fork and beginning to eat as he brain blast's away in his head.

MAMA: "So, Connor, what exactly do you mean that you don't 'think' you're from this area."

CONNOR: "Oh. I don't remember a lot of things. I woke up this morning at the bottom of a cliff so. I probably fell off and bonked my head up. I'm not that worried though. I remember enough to live and stuff I just. Don't know where my home is, or even if I had one in the first place."

PAPA: "Didn't you have anything on you?"

CONNOR: "Nope. No bag or anything. I probably got robbed."

MAMA: "I wouldn't doubt that. People have been going crazy these days and snatching up anything they can. Even if it means taking things from others."

CONNOR: "Hmm? Why's that?"

MAMA: "There's been a lot of natural disasters and various other bad events happening. Signs of another apocalypse. I just hope someone finds the hero soon."

[annonymouslyblonde]

But Why Are They Blue?

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Pairing: Percy x Annabeth

Genre: family, fluff

Summary: Percy has to defend his precious blue food one weekend from his curious children. Short Percabeth family drabble

“Daddy, why do we always have blue pancakes on Saturdays?”

Percy looked up from the batter to meet his little girl's curious green eyes. Well, at least "little girl" in his mind who loved to remind him she would be a teenager in a matter of months. It was something he was definitely trying his hardest not to think about.

“I thought you liked Saturday pancakes,” he asked ladling the blue mixture into a frying pan.

“No!” she giggled pouring a cup of coffee for herself. It annoyed her dad that she drank coffee even if it was decaf at such a young age, which was probably why she drank it every morning with her mom. “Why do you always make them blue?”

It was a fair question. The tradition of Saturday pancakes extended far before the girl's time, and the ritual of making them blue dated even further back. When Percy and Annabeth first moved to New Rome, college had taken more of a toll on the couple than they initially expected. After winning two different wars and surviving Tartarus, midterms and labs should have been a cake walk, or so they thought. The first year was laden with stress-induced spats and mismanaged time. All of which led to Saturday pancakes. On Saturday mornings, the couple dedicated at least two hours to nothing but breakfast together. The scheduled time together did wonders for both of their stress levels. After that, Saturday pancakes became law. But none of that really answered why they were blue.

The question of color choice was a far more volatile topic. While Percy had processed the abuse of his former step-father, the topic wasn't one he intended to explain to his children. Gabe Ugliano had no place in his home or his life in any form.

“Well, one day when I was a lot younger than you, I asked my mom for blue food. Someone told me that blue food doesn't exist.”

“But that's ridiculous,” the girl interjected shaking her head of blond curls. “There are plenty of foods that are blue!”

Percy smiled at his daughter and pulled a perfectly blue pancake from the pan. Every day, she became more like her mother.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

She blushed, remembering she didn't have to always correct everything everyone said. Muttering an apology, she slid into a chair next to her younger brother who appeared to be asleep again with his head resting on the table.

“As I was saying, they told me blue food didn't exist. So do you want to know what my mom did?” he asked coming to sit next to the dejected girl. Timidly, she nodded her head, trying her hardest not to interrupt again.

“Well, your nana, she decided to make all of our food blue whenever she could! Blue cookies, blue pasta, blue soda, and even blue pancakes,” he listed and poked the girl in the ribs with each item, sending her into a fit of giggles. After the laughter died down, her mind started spinning again thinking more about blue food

“Technically, it isn't blue,” the child explained in the same factual tone as her mother. The shift to her lecture mode made Percy chuckle as he returned to cooking pancakes. “It's just dyed blue food. That can't possibly count. Besides, there are blue foods! There are blueberries and grapes. Some crabs are blue. Blue cheese even has blue in the name!”

“What about red,” her brother piped in, lifting his head from the table to chime in on the conversation. “I want red food.”

She glared at him with the same withering look Annabeth always gave Percy when he said something decidedly not smart. He could sense the fight coming as easily as he sensed an oncoming hurricane.

“There are plenty of red foods, stupid.”

“Isabel, don't call your brother stupid,” Percy chided with practiced ease as if he made this statement multiple times a day.

“Yeah don't call me stupid, Izzy,” the younger boy retorted sticking a tongue out in petulance.

“I told you not to call me Izzy, Samuel.” At the used of his full name, the boy leaped out of the chair putting his older sister in a headlock. The pair fell to the floor with a thunk each grapling for leverage over the other. As demigod legacies, both had been trained in hand-to-hand combat for their own safety. The skills, however, were typically used against each other rather than fighting against monsters.

“If you're going to fight this early in the morning, at least take it outside,” an authoritative voice rang into the kitchen making the siblings freeze. Annabeth leaned against the door frame trying not to smile at her rambunctious kids.

“Sorry, mom,” the pair chimed in unison. Both mother and father chuckled at their children as they detangled from each other. Annabeth wrapped her arms around her husband and gave him a quick kiss. Little Sam being only seven cried out in disgust at the display of affection, but Isabel cooed watching the love between her parents. It reminded her of all the fairytales her mom always read to her when she was younger.

“So what were we talking about that set off fighting before eight in the morning?” Annabeth asked as she snatched a crump from the growing stack of pancakes.

“I was explaining to your extremely inquisitive daughter where the tradition of blue pancakes started.”

“And I was explaining that since they are dyed blue, they don't really count as 'blue food,'” she smarted back placing air quotes around blue food. Annabeth snorted at the explanation remembering arguing the same point with Percy when they were Isabel's age. Ultimately, she had given up on the task of changing his mind.

“If dad gets to have blue pancakes, I want green ones!” the little boy exclaimed, excited by the idea of exploring different colored foods. “There's no green foods in the world.”

Mother and daughter met eyes before laughing.

“Sam,” his mother called softly. “There are definitely green foods in the world most of them called vegetables. You just don't like to eat them.”

“Well I want good green food,” he grumbled crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth laughed at the small pout on his face and reached across the table to ruffle his dark hair. It was the same pout Percy would give her when he wanted something.

“If Sam gets green pancakes, I want pink ones with edible glitter,” Isabel demanded. Annabeth always wondered where the girly gene came from in her daughter. Dresses and make-up never came naturally to her, but her daughter was always playing dress-up and asking for some new lip gloss. Typically, she blamed the girl's godmother Piper for it.

Percy gave a long suffering sigh as he placed the platter of pancakes on the table. Everyone quickly filled their plates, eager to dig in after all the discussion about them.

“I'm gonna have to start making rainbow batter just to make everyone happy, aren't I,” he grumbled with a poorly concealed smile.

Watching her family sit together at a table laughing about colored pancakes warmed Annabeth's heart. The tradition had come a long way from their first Saturday morning of burnt pancakes. It was everything she could have ever asked the Fates to bless her with. Taking a bite of her own pancakes, Annabeth answered her husband's question.

“I want my pancakes purple.”

[pankowbabe]

Hello, and welcome to my Outer Banks: Lights Out book review that absolutely no one asked for.

I want to start this off by saying that I had so much hope for this book when I first seen the previews and the description. It made me feel as if we were going to get some answers to JJ’s backstory and what led up to the Pogues’ friendship. I also had no idea of who the author was before preordering, and I jumped the second it was mentioned, not taking the time to research to see if this is directly correlated with the series. (Which it isn’t— the author literally paid the creators to use the characters and plot info.)

First and foremost— the characters of John B, Pope and Kiara do not match the energy of their real characters that we have grown to love. We all know that Pope is passionate about school and his scholarship, but we also know that he’d never pass up the opportunity to go on an adventure with his best friends— especially considering this all takes place during spring break. Kiara hates working at The Wreck, and would use any excuse to leave if she had the chance. So when the author decided to have Pope and Kie stay back from the trip, it just didn’t add up to me, but I continued to read anyways.

John B was really fucking passive aggressive towards JJ almost the entire book BECAUSE HE FELT AS IF JJ ROBBED HIM OF SPENDING MORE TIME WITH HIS DAD BEFORE HE WENT MISSING. Like, WHAT? That isn’t John B. Idc. Our John B knew of JJs home life and would NEVER blame him for tagging along with him and his dad. That pissed me off, almost to the point of where I stopped reading.

So, John b and JJ head out to the Frying pan shoals to spearfish. Savannah shows up on her fancy boat with her shitty boyfriend and their shitty friends, and the chick begins spear fishing. She snags one and it pulls her underwater, and JJ saves her ass. Well, long story short, she gets stuck on the boat with JJ and John b in a storm and her dumbass boyfriend takes off and leaves her. They head to an abandoned lighthouse and then they’re confronted by pirates, yada yada blub blub

Now for Savannah. I was so fucking excited to finally see JJ happy for once. Of course, I didn’t like her character at first because she came off as a preppy touron, but further in she started to have more and more character development. Her dad died and her mom married a rich man. The chick could swim and new how to work on cars and shit. She hated her life, her step dad and claimed her life was boring and that she was with her rich boyfriend HUNTER 🤭 because it was easy being with him. I was straight up digging her. Then BOOM! Her and JJ kiss. There was absolutely no tension build up, the author was just right to it.

Well, after they fight off the pirates, they go to sleep and head back out to OBX the next morning. Lo and behold, hunter is there waiting for her as soon as they get there. THIS BITCH STRAIGHT UP ADMITTED TO CHEATING ON HIM WITH JJ AND HES ALL LIKE “ok, say sorry and I’ll forget it ever happened.” The bitch says sorry, and drives away with hunter— forgetting baby jj even exists. The fuck? Well, JJ decides he’s gonna be all “knight and shining armor” and sneak to her hotel room and shit that night. I was totally expecting for her to run into his arms and them be together, but the bitch. Still. Chooses. Hunter.

I was pissed. So fucking pissed. The book ends with the Pogues eating at The Wreck, and then Savannah and hunter showing up. Jj screams “SCREW THE KOOKS POGUES FOREVER” and then boom. The book fucking ends. I’ve read better stories on wattpad by 12 year olds. I feel robbed. I feel VIOLATED

10/10 do not recommend, don’t waste ya money. The author is a piece of shit anyways. She’s white and the book is focused on… you guessed it… only the white characters. Pope and Kie deserved better. JJ deserved better. This book sucked and so does the author.

K bye.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 13, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 12, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

CHAPTER WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink

First rewritten reworking 06/17/2023

Second rewritten reworking 10/04/2024

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1092

I was doing inventory on the food in the Bradley triplets’ cooler when Peter wandered into the kitchen. He poured himself some coffee before standing back to watch me putter about.

“You want me to make you some breakfast?” I asked him as I avoided his gaze, rushing about awkwardly as I tried to avoid the elephant in the room.

 “Can you look at me, please sweetheart?” I forced my eyes up to look at my soulmate. “What’s wrong?”

 “Last night…” I trailed off awkwardly. “Where do we stand? I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

 “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing either,” he murmured softly, placing his hand on my shoulders.

 “It felt nice, what you did to me,” I confessed, bringing his hand up to my cheek and leaning my petite body into his touch. “Does sex feel like that?”

 He sucked in a mouthful of air and fell into a crouch, meeting me at eye level.

 “I think the best way to answer that question is to experience it for yourself,” he told me with honesty in his voice. “I’m not comfortable telling you what my experience with sex is.”

 “Oh okay, I understand,” I mumbled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Is this okay?”

 Peter only closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his face as I pressed my soft body into his hard muscles, wrapping my arms loosely around his shoulder. He sighed happily as I began to hum a sweet song to him.

 “So what are you doing for today, sweetheart?” he asked, finger combing my curls.

 “Again, I need to deliver bread to Father Kevin for service today, and a few other places requested my homemade bread so I’m going to deliver to them as well. I could use your help, I think,” I listed off the top of my head. “Want to try some? I baked two dozen loaves this past week.”

  I turned back to look for breakfast and came up with a box of pancake mix.

 “How many do you want?” I asked him as I quickly prepared a bowl of pancake mix. “I’m making six for myself.”

 “I’ll also have six,” he answered.

 “I make fat ass pancakes, so if you want more, let me know and I’ll fix some up for you,” I said as I poured the first pancake into the pan and stood above it with a spatula in hand. I had eggs scrambling in another pan and bacon frying in a third. “Can you slice up a loaf of bread for toast for me, please?” I pointed a knife over towards a covered basket. Peter removed the cover and looked at the many loaves of home baked bread.

 “Any loaf?” he called as his hand hovered over the basket. “It doesn’t matter?”

 “They’re all the same,” I responded. He selected a loaf at random and unwrapped it before beginning to slice it with a bread knife. Through our bond, his mouth began to water as he took in a deep inhale of homemade bread.

 “There’s butter in the cooler, could you go ahead and grab it for me?” I asked next, taking the sliced bread and beginning to toast it on the stove. “Gramercy.”

 Peter set the tub of butter next to me and leaned in, placing an arm on either side of me, safely caging me in.

 “When do you want to get married?” he suddenly asked, the thought occurring to him.

 “Why, you excited?” I teased as I flipped one pancake onto a plate before pouring more batter into the pan. “Not until after little girl is born- New York has a law where no matter who the dad is, the husband’s name is required to be on the birth certificate. And I don’t want your name on the birth certificate- she isn’t yours, she’s Aaron’s and James’ daughter. I just don’t want to deal with the legality issues there.” I finished another pancake and poured more mix into the pan. “She’s due in less than fourteen weeks, so we still have time.”

 “Fourteen weeks to find a house and move into a safer neighborhood,” Peter mused out loud. “It’s a tight deadline, but perfectly achievable.”

 “Are you alright with house hunting on your own?” I asked him, reaching up to wrap my arm around his neck. “I’d like to avoid as much stress as I can.”

 “I don’t want to say yes to a house and end up with you hating it,” Peter told her. “What are your must haves?”

 “A big kitchen- I do all the cooking in the apartment I share with my sisters,” she told him, finishing up breakfast. “A tub in the master bathroom- though I’ve been needing help getting out these past few weeks.”

 “Big kitchen, bathtub, got it,” Peter nodded. “Anything else?”

 “A big backyard, if possible,” I shrugged. “I like to entertain and stuff- it comes from being in a big family, I guess. What about you? What are your must haves when your house hunting?”

 “Well, I prefer to be in the Brooklyn area, as how I grew up in the Red Hook area,” he started off with, folding himself up into a corner. “I like nature, so preferably in the middle of green and with no one else around for miles. A big garage where I can work on my car, and a big workroom where I can work on little odds and ends.”

 “And a recording studio?” I suggested, turning to hand him a pale that was full of food, coupled with a sweet smile. “Order up!”

  Gramercy, thank you, Old French?

 TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

 If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

 PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a​

@rockstarslutt​

@angelxfuckk​

[tsumuniri]

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ ┃next

ZERO ━━ WHO’S KICKING WHO NOW?

DO YOU GET NERVOUS to the point you wouldn't be surprised that you already took a shit, not pee, but discharge the residue on your pants? That's how a certain H/C-haired female felt as she sat across the table with her editor on the other side. It was only a figurative speech, though; if she took it literally, Y/N would gladly dig her own grave and plan her funeral up to what kind of horrid gown she'd be wearing in her casket.

It wasn't your fault to be this anxious. You've been doing this type of gig for almost five years, yet you couldn't help but tremble slightly on your seat as you noiselessly wait for the male editor to enlighten you with comments in regards to this unreleased chapter. You hate having to go through this type of initiation, but hey, you love your job nevertheless.

"Great work today, L/N-san. You accurately followed my advice when it comes to the panels. As expected from your skills and experiences in the field." Akihito remarked, pushing up his glasses with his thumb and closing the original copy of the printed manuscript.

You now had the ability to breathe as you draw out a deep sigh of relief. "Well, thank the gods for that! When you criticized the paneling of this chap two days ago, I panicked a bit and had to rearrange them all." You rambled on and began to ravish the food on your tray to satisfy your empty stomach. It was a bit difficult to comprehend your words due to the continuous eating of the delicious french fries. However, your editor somewhat understood you in the end.

Akihito watched you chowed down on the poor potato snack and shook his head from the ridiculous spectacle of your hungry state. "You're the infamous Yamazaki, but you asked me to meet up with you in a place like this?" He panned out.

"What do you mean? And didn't I tell you not to say my pen name out loud? What if people might hear you!"

"Y/N, we're in McDonald's." Your editor frowned, gesturing around the place full of children with a nudge of his thumb. With the sudden dilemma of your hidden identity, he cocked a brow and turned his head to glance at the screaming little monsters chasing each other on the matted floor. It was clear to him that these youngsters didn't pay any mind to their talk.

"We took the table by the playground. I don't think kids of their age would know someone who makes picture books of men sucking-".

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! STOP!" You cut him off right before he could finish his ambiguous statement. You took a bite on the fry you were holding and dipped it in the blob of ketchup on the tissue paper. "I chose this fast-food resto because the atmosphere in this place is loud. I don't want someone to hear you nor see the material you're reading." You licked the salt off your fingers once you finished eating your fries.

His slanted eyes squinted in suspicion as his onyx irises surveyed your get-up from head to toe. Your patterned sock-covered feet nestled on black Adidas slippers as you had plaid trousers that seemed to look like matching pajama pants of a clothing set. The white shirt with the oppai logo you wore made up for your lacking asset. However, the best feature of this apparel you came up with was the unusual pair of large rimmed shades covering your eyes. "It seemed like you do know how to act natural, Y/N..." Akihito trailed, deciding not to ridicule the outfit you chose to wore for their meeting since he knew you were in a hurry to meet the deadline.

Your eyes glanced at the watch wrapped around your wrist and realized the current time. "I better get going. My mom would kill me if I didn't do the groceries. Thank you for today, Akihito!" You pushed yourself off the table, sitting up from the cushioned seat then bowing towards the male.

The brunette also stood up for courtesy's sake, softly smiling at you in gratification. "Thank you for your hard work as well, L/N-san. I'll make sure to send out a copy of the weekly magazine as soon it releases to the public. Your international fans will definitely enjoy this chapter once the global publishing company releases the translated magazine." He assured.

"Well, I'm happy to hear that everyone gets to enjoy my works! I'll see you soon, Akihito." You gave him a lazy grin as you turned your back and left for your pending chore.

"That man sure bought a lot of cleaning products." You thought out loud as you recalled the fascinating scene of a fellow shopper with a basket full of cleaning merchandise. You couldn't pinpoint his looks since the guy was wearing a face mask. But from his athletic build and large hooded eyes that made the other shoppers distance themselves away, you had a feeling he's good-looking. It wouldn't be surprising if he already has a girlfriend.

Or a boyfriend if he likes bananas over tacos.

Your little bubble of thoughts soon popped as you stood outside the gate of your household, staring at the moving boxes stacked on the grassy floor of your mother's garden. 'Now, what are they up to?' You mused, having a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the cardboard packages.

You hoisted up the two paper bags full of groceries against your chest and pulled the gate open. "Mom! Dad! I'm Home!" You greeted out, walking past the boxes and almost tripping on one of them. Your left arm had lifted the groceries with difficulty as you used your other hand to twist the doorknob of the front door.

The spruce door was pushed open by your right arm. As you took a step inside, your ears caught a pitched bark from the end of the hallway. A smile fixed on your lips once the familiar energetic sound registered in your mind.

"Kazu!" A short-coated corgi ran out from one of the doorways as it continued to bark and jump from the excitement of its owner arriving back at home. Its fluffy butt waddled with every step it took with its soft paws— bouncing a couple of times once you called out its name.

You smiled from ear to ear, "You miss me, boy?" You cooed, slipping out of your slippers and setting the bags of groceries on the hall table by the door. The dog barked softly and looked up at you with his beady eyes, wagging his tail and letting out another bark in reply. You would've played with this cute bunch that the gods have blessed you with, but the questions about the boxes haven't stopped galling you for answers.

"Where's mom and dad, Kazu?"

Kazu tilted his head and barked as if the corgi understood what you were trying to tell him. The dog turned around and darted over to the staircase leading upstairs. 'Maybe that's why they didn't hear me.' You thought to yourself and followed your dog over to the flight of stairs. The fluffy puppy used his time in climbing up the steps, but you decided to scoop the dog up in your arms and carry him midway due to how hard of a time the corgi's having.

You gently placed Kazu back on the floor after you both reached upstairs. Your brows furrowed together as you caught the sight of the two pieces of luggage outside your bedroom door. If your gut was telling you before that something grave might happen, it was screaming at you now that something will. "Mom?" You called out for your mother, needing an explanation for what the hell her parents are doing to her room.

Finally, the said person peeked her head out from the doorway of your room. "Y/N, dear! Welcome back!" She smiled and waved her hand to beckon you over to her side.

"Since you're finally here, your father and I have some great news for you!"

You eyed your mother, suspicious by the way she's acting, but you still heeded her command and took hesitant steps in the direction of your bedroom. "What's happening, mom? Why are you guys in my r-" You weren't able to finish your sentence as you find yourself in an almost empty bedroom with your father sealing a box with packaging tape.

The middle-aged man looked up from what he was doing and beamed once he saw his daughter walked inside the room, "My lovely girl! Great timing! Help your old pal in bringing your stuff outside the house." He hummed.

You didn't know what to say— you already had an idea of what the old couple was about to do, but you don't want to believe it. Your wide eyes shifted between your mother and father, "Don't... Don't tell me that..." You stammered as you were in disbelief from the current event playing right in front of you.

"We're kicking you out, Y/N!"

## and this is the first fic that i posted here on tumblr! though, i already published it in wp as well LMAO. i hope you enjoyed reading the prologue :'>

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙6

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series), nocturnal playtime, unwanted touching.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: I’m working on more drabbles and Eye of the Storm! But for now, enjoy some Andy.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your appointment went as well as it could have. The doctor ran bloodwork and several other tests as Andy nodded knowingly as if to say ‘I told you so’, which he also did aloud several times after. The drive home was a reiteration of what you should, and more enthusiastically, what you shouldn’t do. 

It was really starting to feel like he believed you were an actual child. Your own father had never talked to you in such a way. You couldn’t say the same for your mother but even she could reel it in long enough that you didn’t feel like a complete moron. Andy just seemed to latch onto every mistake you made and sink his teeth in until he tasted blood.

And like the teenager he treated you as, when you got back to his house, you stormed up to the guest room and slammed the door. You fell onto the bed and screamed into the pillow. Oh yeah, that long lost adolescent rage returned. Then it all drained from every inch of you and you rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

You could hear Andy below. You listened to him moving around, the decisive click of his polished leather shoes. He climbed the stairs and you heard him stop outside your door. He sighed and retreated to his own room. Your day off an you’d spend it like this; raging at your new warden.

The knock on your door made you flinch. 

“Hey,” Andy’s voice sounded decisively through the door. “I’m going into the office for the rest of the day. I’ll be in around six.” He paused and the handle jiggled but didn’t turn. “You know where everything is.”

You didn’t answer him. You waited until he left, the footsteps on the staircase, the front door, the soft rollover of his car engine. You sat up and pulled out your phone. A single voicemail; your parents’ number.

“Hey, kiddo,” Your dad’s voice rose from the speaker. “Your mom wants to know when you’re getting the rest of your stuff.” A slight pause and a cough. “You know I don’t care and you take your time but if she asks, I told ya to come get it… Love you.” The line buzzed. “And your mom loves you too but she’s just as stubborn as you, you know? Well, anyway, uh, bye.” Another glaring silence. “Oh, and it’s still my house. I’ll be happy to see ya, kiddo.”

You saved the message and dropped your phone to bounce on the mattress. You put your head in your hands as you tried to resist the overhwelming swell of sadness that overcame you. You didn’t care about your stuff and you couldn’t bring it here. You wouldn’t. Sell it, toss it, you didn’t care.

You sat up and dropped your hands to the bed in defeat. You were such a fuck up.

🌙

You avoided Andy for a few days. You found excuses to stay in your room when you weren’t working and even spent a good deal of time in the backyard, weeding the overgrown garden. It didn’t matter. Autumn was close and most of the plants were dead. It must have been her job, or maybe a cherished hobby.

Aside from Andy’s prickly nature, she made it harder. That stranger; Laurie. You were an imposter in her place; usurping her as she laid in a hospital entirely unaware. You only knew what the press put out. He never said much about it. Did you really expect him to? All he ever spoke about was you, the baby, and everything you did wrong.

After a rather long day at work, made longer by your suddenly returned appetite and the smell of cinnamon and coffee, you returned to the house and found yourself back in the yard. You sat at the patio table and scrolled through your phone. 

Felicia wanted to meet up the next night. You hadn’t told her yet. If she took you for drinks, as she always did, she’d figure it out pretty quickly. Well, why were you hiding it? You wouldn’t be able to for much longer. You already felt a little bigger, wider at least. Would it be so bad to tell? To not be alone?

You swiped away her text and bit your thumbnail. You’d think about it and send your answer before you went to bed.

The screen door clattered and you sat up straight. You looked up as Andy emerged and strode across the deck. He had a beer in hand and placed it on the glass table as he neared the other side of the table. His tie was gone, his top button undone, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

“Here you are,” He said as he pulled out a chair and sat. “How was work?”

You shrugged and turned over your phone. “It was work,” You sat back and crossed your arms. “Do I ask you? Is that the right thing to do?”

He chuckled and popped the cap of the beer and took a swig. “Well, it was an exciting day. Had a defendant attack the judge. Didn’t get very close but a they took him out,” He turned the bottle on the table. “He got me good on his way out, even if he missed my face.”

You let your arms fall to rest over your stomach. You didn’t know what to say. Did he want pity? Surely you couldn’t relate to his courthouse crusades.

“Well, that sounds… scary.” You offered.

“It happens. Not a lot but you can never predict people,” He took another gulp of beer. “What are you doing out here? It’s gonna rain soon.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at the grey clouds. “I never minded the rain much.”

He was quiet as he picked at the label of his bottle. His toe tapped and he pushed his shoulders back.

“Your mother came to see me,” He said gently. “Said something about tossing your stuff out on the lawn.”

“Shit,” You winced. “She shouldn’t have--”

“You haven’t talked to her?”

“And say what, exactly? She made her feelings about me pretty clear.” You played with the case of your phone as you turned it over. “My dad called me but… I don’t care about all that shit.”

“We can go get it. It’s not--”

You laughed and shook your head. “Why? You’re so eager to erase my former life, why would you care?” You threw your hand up and planted your elbow on the table. “It’s just books. A few stuffed animals. I never really could afford much of value. The poor pauper girl.”

“I never--”

You stood and slid your phone into your pocket. You still wore the plain black shirt and matching pants from work. Your fly was half undone to relieved the pressure and your shirt had caught in your waistband. You pulled the hem down and pushed in your chair.

“I’m hungry. I’m going to get changed and make something to eat.” You said.

You left him there and went inside. After slipping into some leggings and a loose tee, you swept into the kitchen and surveyed your options. Some linguine with chicken and spinach. That didn’t sound too bad.

You pulled out a chicken breast and the cutting board. You put the water on boil and heated the frying pan. You started to chop up the chicken into chunks as you heard the back door. Andy appeared and set his bottle down across from you as he stood on the other side of the island. It gave a hollow clink; empty, already.

“So, what are you making?” He leaned on the marble.

“Pasta,” You answered curtly. “You have any hot peppers? Hot sauce?” You opened the fridge. “I wouldn’t mind something spicy.”

“Check the door,” He said. “You must be past the nausea. You know, I always heard the cravings were the worst part. I never really considered pickles anything to drool over but---”

“Stop, please,” You interjected as you turned back with a jar of banana peppers. You could dice them up and mix them into the sauce. “It’s miserable. All of it.”

He sighed and stood straight. He rounded the counter and opened the cupboard. He added oil to the pan and it crackled. He put it back and turned to grab the spinach and rinsed it in the colander. He set it on the counter and turned back to watch you slice the chicken.

“You gonna keep this up?” He asked.

“What?” You set the knife down and dumped the chicken into the pan and washed your hands..

“You gotta try to meet me halfway,” He turned.

“Meet you halfway? Andy, christ,” You spat as you stirred the chicken and seared it. “How much more can I give you?”

“Bit of courtesy, maybe,” He said. “I’m trying here but you won’t even--”

“There you go again, speaking to me like a child. I am not a child. Let’s start there,” You pointed at him with the spatula. “You should know that.”

He considered you, his blue eyes drifted then returned to you. He gave a small smile. “I definitely know you’re not a child.”

“I’m serious.”

He nodded and exhaled. “Alright, I’ll try to ease off.”

You squinted at him. “I really wanna believe you will.”

He scoffed and brushed past you. He went to the fridge and grabbed another beer. He flipped the cap off and leaned against the door.

“I’m a lawyer. I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “But for the sake… of the baby, I’ll take my foot off the pedal. A little.”

“Cool,” You set the spatula down. “So you won’t mind if I go out tomorrow night. My friend Felicia wants to have dinner.”

“Dinner?” He repeated. You raised a brow. “Yeah, fine. That sounds like fun.”

“Great,” You smiled and grabbed the linguine noodles. “And you know, you’ll get a night to yourself. Win-win.”

🌙

You texted Felicia after dinner and for the first time in a while, you felt excited about something. So excited you found it hard to settle down. A bigger problem because you had an opening shift the next morning and you were already constantly exhausted.

You laid in bed and tossed and turned. You stared at the ceiling, then rolled over and stared at the window, then tried laying on your stomach until your leg fell asleep. It was at least an hour of endless turmoil, trying to force yourself to doze, before you just resigned to blinking into the dark.

You listened to the gentle spatter of rain. As always, Andy was right. It was really annoying. You sighed and peeked out the window as the rivulets streamed down the glass. The moonlight shone through the droplets in silver orbs. You turned onto your side and counted them, hoping it would coax you to sleep.

Then you heard it. At first, you were certain it was nothing. The wind, maybe. But it continued, steady, slowly mounting. The heavy breaths coated with sultry groans. You froze and craned your head to look over your shoulder as you listened. You’d left your bathroom door open without thinking and could hear a little too much through the one at the other end.

You dropped your head back to the pillow as the voice continued; deep and drawn out. It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on; what the only other person in the house was doing. Andy was only human after all. Well, you’d fucked him almost on sight. You were no saint. Yet it felt so wrong, hearing him like that. Worse that as you closed your eyes, you could only imagine him in the other room with his hand…

You pulled the duvet over your ear and pressed your head to the pillow. You felt a tickle between your thighs and squeezed them together. Ignore it, just listen to the rain. But his voice only got louder and louder until it finally peaked in a sharp grunt. Your lips parted and you shuddered. He was done, thank god.

It was silent for a few minutes, all but the gentle patter of rain. Then the bed groaned through the wall and soft footsteps. You were tense as you listened, moreso as you heard him near the other side of the bathroom door. 

Shit, he had to clean himself up and… 

The door opened and you heard his feet on the tile. He let out a growled and cranked the sink on. Your door was still wide open. It sounded as if he was right beside you as the water flowed and his breathing evened out. He turned off the faucet but lingered in the bathroom.

Then he stood in the door to your room. You could feel him there, looking at you. You were thankful your back was to him. Slowly, he crept closer and you felt him looming over you, just at the side of your bed. Your nerves were on fire, every hair on your body was on end.

The blanket moved just a little as he tugged at it. You made yourself stay still as he paused, waiting for you to react. He let out a long breath and yanked harder to dislodge the duvet from under you. You squeezed your eyes shut, terrified. You should say something, do something, tell him to fuck off!

He bared your leg and the cool air raised goosebumps along your skin. Your shorts offered little coverage and had ridden up your ass. He let the blanket rest on the other side of your leg and his fingertips grazed your calf and thigh. He touched your ass and pressed more firmly against it.

Then suddenly he recoiled. You heard him swallow and he pulled the blanket back over you. He turned and retreated into the bathroom, your door clicking closed behind him, the second which led into his own room. The silence was pierced by his muffled voice.

“Shit.”

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 3 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 4

Jude scooped her hat off the ground and bolted.

She knew full well that she wasn't as good as the Juilliard students, but it was something else entirely to hear Nicasia laugh her head off as she strode off. To hear Valerian mimicking her as his voice replaced hers to echo around the subway station.

To see Cardan turn away from her and walk away like he couldn't even stand to look at her.

It wasn’t that she thought she thought she was something special. Not like the Juilliard students, with their showcases and enormous posters. It was just that Jude's voice was the only thing she had left of her mother. She didn't fancy herself any kind of super talent, but she had been told that she sounded just like her mom. And that was enough for Jude to love to sing.

The anger pooled in her gut, and soothed the heated shame from her cheeks. Fuck those guys. She hadn't marched onto the stage at their beloved school. She hadn't asked them to come see her. Up the road there was some guy playing the spoons; you could busk anything in New York and she didn't need their permission.

Still. The fifty dollar tip from yesterday didn't seem to mean as much now. A small voice that Jude despised whole heartedly wondered if it had been pity money.

She slowed down, sighed, and rounded the corner. May as well turn back home.

It was then she heard the pounding footsteps behind her.

"Jude!"

She turned, and was surprised to see Locke standing there, panting. Jude narrowed her eyes.

"What," she spat, "did you follow me down the block to keep taunting me?"

"No!" Locke said quickly. He shook his fox coloured head. "No, not at all. Hey, sorry about my friends. They're assholes and they can't sing anyway."

Jude didn't bite. He hadn't stopped them at the time.

"Really," Locke pressed. "They just think they can get a rise out of you. They don't actually think you're bad, or anything."

Jude rolled her eyes, and kept walking. "Sure, whatever," she said.

"No wait!" Locke ran out in front of her. "I'm Locke," he told her.

"So?" Jude shot out.

"So, I'm producing this musical at one of my father's playhouses next month, and I think you have just the perfect voice for my lead role. You should come be part of it."

"No," Jude said, and tried to walk on. Locke stopped her again.

"I'm serious!" Locke said. "You have a gorgeous voice, and you could get a lot of attention for performing with us. My dad's a Broadway producer, you know."

"I couldn't give two shits who your dad is," Jude hissed, and Locke sighed.

"Okay look," he said. "I get it, you've been waiting our table for four years and you have no reason to trust me as far as you can throw me. I know, alright? But... give me a chance."

Jude stared at him skeptically, but didn't walk away. Locke pulled a business card out of his pocket.

"I'm having a party this weekend. Come meet the crew. If you like us, come sing with us. If not, I won't bother you again. Okay?"

"Don't you have to be like thirty and in a suit to carry business cards?" Jude asked. But took it anyway. Locke laughed.

"You're funny Jude," he said as he turned away. "I like you."

"Yeah well the jury's still out for you," Jude grumbled, but Locke was already disappearing through the crowd.

/////

Nicasia sat down in Cardan's lap, and he almost spilled his drink.

"What do you want, Nicasia?" he asked, irritated.

"What do you mean, darling?" Nicasia purred, twining her arms around his neck. She wore a shiny green dress that rode up high on her thighs, and seemed to shove her cleavage under his chin. Subtle as a frying pan to the head, was Nicasia.

"You know what I mean."

Nicasia wriggled in his lap. "I want you, silly." She tugged his earlobe between her teeth.

"Since when?" Cardan asked, pulling away. Nicasia stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Since always, babe."

"Oh yeah? And where were you when I called you and told you I was stressed about my parents coming through?"

Nicasia rolled her eyes. "You're always stressed."

"What about how you've been hooking up with Locke for the past three months?"

"Babe you know we're not exclusive."

"Well then don't call me babe."

Nicasia frowned. "What's gotten into you?" she asked. "You’re always so fucking cranky these days.”

"Nothing," Cardan said, and pushed her out of his lap. "I'm just sick of this. Don't come round to my place anymore."

"Cardan!"

But Cardan didn't come back.

To be fair to Nicasia, she was right. They had dated in high school but since they got into Juilliard, they had agreed to see other people. And then they sort of drifted apart, and now it seemed that Nicasia only came round when she needed sex and there was nothing better on offer. They hadn't slept together now in months, and honestly, Cardan had no desire to anymore. He couldn't have said when exactly it had started, but lately when he was around Nicasia, he just felt... bored. And sometimes, when he looked too hard at her face, he could swear that she was bored, too.

At any rate, Cardan was fairly sure him calling it off would actually make very little difference to their relationship.

He wandered through the party, walking up the stairs and nodding at people who clapped him on the shoulder or called out his name. He recognised barely any of them.

And then he heard it.

Heard Jude's voice, he was sure of it. But how could that be? Why would she be at one of Locke's parties?

Cardan followed the sound until there she was, standing on a table, her mahogany hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and wearing a tight black dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. She was curved like a cello, and she laughed as she sang and she looked magnificent.

"Jude?"

Around her, a small crowd of people sang along. Her voice carried above the others, and she looked so natural in the centre there that for a second, it didn't seem strange that she was here at a Juilliard party at all.

Jude looked up when he called her name, and to his surprise, she smiled wider.

"Cardan!" she cried. "The cruel prince of Juilliard himself!" She gave a mock bow. "I should have known I'd run into you here."

"That's Cardan," someone whispered, loud and drunk. "Do you think he's really as good as they say, or is it all just hype?"

Jude heard it too, and her eyes sparkled. Cardan hated them all. He rolled his eyes, and left the room.

"Wait up!" Jude slid down from the table, and followed him. He stopped at a landing that looked over the living room.

"What are you doing here?" Cardan asked her.

"Your friend Locke invited me," she said. He smelled whiskey on her breath. "Something about wanting me to sing in his musical."

"Oh." Cardan blinked. "Well. You should."

Jude leaned on the railing. "I don't know," she said. "Locke seems like kind of a dick."

"He is," Cardan agreed. Suddenly he felt way too sober. "But he's connected, and you may as well use him if he's offering."

Jude gave an exaggerated groan. "Ugh I just don't want to have to kiss Locke's ass in order to get ahead," she said.

"So don't," Cardan said. "Just go and be amazing, and let your voice do the talking. Er, figuratively."

Jude appeared to consider it. Cardan put his forearms on the railing next to her. "Or what? You're gonna sing in subway tunnels the rest of your life? You're too good for that Jude," he said.

Honestly, the words were coming out of their own accord. He definitely needed another drink. Or eight. Cardan was just considering leaving Jude and finding a bottle when she leaned forward suddenly, and kissed him on the mouth.

For a moment, Cardan just froze.

Then his eyes slid closed and he cradled her jaw gently in his hand, and kissed her back softly. She tasted like scotch and caramel, and something very hot was just waking in his stomach when she pulled away as abruptly as she had come in.

Jude shook her head as if dazed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't..."

She didn't finish the sentence, just slipped through the crowd and left him cold by the railing.

****

Oh noooo my babies 🥺🥺🥺

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler

[everybodyscupoftea]

anyone can cook

rafe cameron x reader

words: 3729

warnings: usual cursing, mentions of drugs 

synopsis: college au, four times you cook for rafe and one time he cooks for you

Growing up, your mom taught you the importance of food. For most of your childhood, you loved cooking with her. Learning family recipes, and spending time in the kitchen with her instead of doing homework was thrilling to you. As you aged, you started to resent it, feeling like your mother was perpetuating the harmful stereotype that women are meant to be in the kitchen.

And then you left school early and came home to see the shit your dad was putting your mom through and was forced to immediately take that hard pill to swallow. Perspective was a bitch. Your mom didn’t cook to please your dad, she cooked to keep him happy enough for you to be fooled. It was heartbreaking.

You decided then that you’d not take any time cooking with your mom for granted. She loved you and she wanted you to be happier than her. For her, you could certainly fucking try. It was all going great until the storm that knocked out power, rendered the kitchen useless, and drove your dad’s patience level to its breaking point.

He’d never been that angry before, at least not in front of you. You weren’t sure what to do as he lashed out at your mom and then you, without warning and in the end, without apology. Normally if you were upset, your mom would make cookies with you, letting you use cookie cutters and dirty unnecessary dishes. That time though, you had to figure it out alone.

When you got to college, your parents helped pay rent for your first apartment. It had a good kitchen with lots of room, and your mom bought you a ton of kitchen tools, pots and pans, and other cooking necessities as a graduation gift. Her and your dad helped you move in, and that night, with shaky hands, she held your face in her hands. Tears in her eyes she whispered, “Promise me you won’t stop cooking.”

You couldn’t stop your own tears as you gulped and nodded a little frantically, “Of course not, Mama.”

Rafe lived a very different life. His real mother wasn’t in the picture and his step mother didn’t really want kids, so his experience with cooking was very limited compared to yours. Coincidentally that’s how the two of you met, outside your apartment building at 11:48 p.m. while the fire department sorted out the disaster that was his dinner attempt.

You knew it was his fault because he was very carefully trying to make himself look small. The only reason you knew what had gone wrong was you overheard the fireman talking to the landlord saying it was just a small kitchen fire in 227 and wouldn’t be too much to fix.

It was really out of character, but you walked over to where he was sitting on the curb and sat down next to him, “227?”

His head turned toward you sharply, “Figured me out, huh?”

“You were trying a little too hard to look inconspicuous.”

He shrugged, “Didn’t want a bunch of angry neighbors.”

Which you understood, so you nudged his shoulder with yours, “Well, I’m not angry and I know, but I’m not so sure I’d risk it with her,” you pointed at a lady who seemed to be ranting into the phone.

The boy followed your point and winced, “Yeah maybe not. Cooking clearly isn’t for me.”

“What were you making?”

“Kraft mac and cheese.”

You let out a loud laugh, assuming it was a joke. But then he didn’t meet your eyes or laugh along and you quickly stopped laughing, “Wait actually?”

With a shrug, he answered, “No one really taught me how to cook.”

And here you had a choice. Years and years of stored up cooking knowledge, endless recipes memorized, and a fantastic kitchen begging to be used by more than one person made the choice obvious.

“Well then take this as my standing dinner invitation whenever you want. I’ll give you my number and you can let me know when you’re hungry.”

“So, you’re gonna what, teach me how to cook.”

“Well, we can start small. I’ll cook for you first.”

One:

The first time Rafe texted you was on a night you actually had a fridge full of leftovers, but the boy who lived alone with sad eyes deserved better than leftovers. Rafe knocked on the door a few minutes later and he was dressed similarly to the first time you’d seen him, in sweats and a hoodie, and his hands were folded nervously in front of him.

You let him in, and he followed you to the kitchen, “So what’s on the menu for tonight?” he asked.

“Chicken pot pie,” you told him over your shoulder. You’d turned the oven on to preheat and had the potatoes and carrots chopped already. He stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Before you could continue, he cut in, “Is there something I can do?”

You thought for a minute, “You can control the music. My phone is synced up to the bluetooth speaker and I have Spotify pulled up, so have at it.”

Rafe nodded and sat down as you put the veggies into a pot and added water to start boiling them. You quickly went into your cooking zone as Rafe sat quietly queuing up songs. They were from your chill playlist and you appreciated that he was sticking to your playlists, humming along every so often.

By the time you pulled the chicken and veggie mixture from the heat, Rafe was leaning forward in his seat, and he looked excited to see what you’d do next. Reaching down, you pulled out a glass pie tin and looked over at him, “After I press the crust down, will you help me pour the mixture in?”

Rafe nodded eagerly and you made quick work of the pie crust, motioning him to come around the counter. He looked hesitant for the first time since you’d started cooking, and you tried to smile reassuringly. Returning the smile, he moved closer, “What do you want me to do.”

You held out the potholders, “If you pour, I’ll scoop.”

He picked the pot up and slowly poured the mixture into the tin and you quickly scooped the stuff that didn’t pour. Rafe set the pot down and you held the second crust out to him to press on top. He mimicked your actions from earlier carefully, and you couldn’t help but smile. You showed him how to press the edges down with a fork and he did so, slowly. Covering the edges, you let Rafe put it in the oven and then led him to the living room to start a movie while the two of you waited for it to finish.

The pot pie was a family recipe, and when Rafe tried it, the look on his face made it worth him seeing the secret ingredients your mom added to jazz it up. It felt good seeing someone enjoying your cooking again.

Two:

You weren’t entirely sure the relationship Rafe had with his family, but on fried catfish night, Rafe showed up at your doorstep unexpectedly. Fortunately, you had a few extra, so you invited him in for dinner. It wasn’t exactly what he was gunning for when he showed up, but he’d never say no to your cooking.

While you battered and seasoned the fish, he vented about his dad.

“I just don’t understand how a 4.0 isn’t fucking good enough. He’ll never give me any credit as long as Sarah does well in school and plays volleyball, I just want to be good enough.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, and you found yourself tearing up on his behalf. You paused the music that had been softly playing in the background, “Fuck your dad, you deserve better.”

Rafe laughed drily, “I’ve done some dumb shit, this is my karma. I just don’t like it.”

“I fail to see any mistakes bad enough to warrant a parent totally disregarding their child like that. Did you kill someone or something?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “No, I didn’t kill anyone. But I had a drug problem in high school. I’m clean now, but it was me attempting to get my dad’s attention and it all spiraled out of control. Clearly it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to because my dad just kicked me out.”

You were horrified, “He kicked you out?!”

“Yeah, I went from couch to couch for a while until checking myself into rehab so I could get clean. I was tired of being dependent on something and really I wanted to prove my dad wrong.”

“God, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and you started heating the oil up to start frying. There was an extended pause before he softly continued, “He didn’t let me move back in, even when I showed up clean. News of everything had gotten around town and he didn’t want me to further disgrace the family name.”

Brushing a tear off your cheek, you caught his eye, “Karma will come for your dad someday. You deserve only good things, Rafe.”

With a faint smile, he tapped his fingers on the cabinet, almost nervously, “Maybe one day I’ll be able to see it that way, but for now, I just don’t.”

“I’ll keep telling you until you believe it,” you promised fiercely. And you really meant it.

You finished frying the fish, silence between the two of you. It was no longer heavy and it wasn’t as awkward as the first time, you were proud of the progress. Rafe grabbed plates from the cabinet and at your instruction, the coleslaw you had already made and stored in the fridge.

Courtesy kicked in, and you let Rafe make his plate first. You figured he deserved to feel first choice for once. He almost looked like he wanted to argue, but you weren’t about to back down, so he filled his plate and sat back at the bar, patiently waiting for you to sit down before eating.

You fixed your plate and sat down next to him before squeezing his shoulder, “Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

Rafe laughed, “Thanks for letting me rant.”

“Anytime.”

Three:

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath and your laptop confirmed what you feared, your last bio exam had gone very poorly. It was just one test, but you weren’t used to seeing such a low grade, and you had to try really hard not to cry. Everything in you wanted to go lay down for days and forget about the rest of your classes, but the logical part of your brain texted Rafe to invite him for dinner.

He showed up not even five minutes later, and you decided breakfast sounded like the most comforting thing. You didn’t want to come across as too needy, so you didn’t mention the bad grade and tried to cover how you were actually feeling.

Unfortunately, the music you had playing gave it away. Rafe took one look at your face and the slight slump in your shoulders, and immediately wrapped you into a hug. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the tears, and he held you tighter.

“What happened, bud?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to deflect, “fucked up on a bio test. We still have a few more, but it’s not a great start.”

“Which bio?”

“Molecular.”

Rafe thought for a few seconds, “I know a guy who has taken that, want me to see if I can get his notes?”

“That would be great actually.”

He smiled, “Good, now why don’t we get some happier music and get to cooking.”

And you could do that. Rafe changed to a playlist he’d made and sent to you a few weeks ago called Good Vibes for Cooking Nights and you couldn’t argue, they were good songs. A Wallows song started playing and you fell into a rhythm of pouring batter and flipping pancakes, feeling immensely better than when Rafe had first showed up.

You were thankful for him, this boy who had totally changed your life in the four months he’d known you. Four months of baring your hearts to each other in your own little ways. Rafe showing up to your apartment looking casual, not at all how he looked normally during the day. You letting him control the music and watch you cook, something so personal and special to you. It was new for the both of you.

Rafe heated up syrup while you quickly buttered the pancakes and washed some fruit for toppings. For the first time, you made your plate and sat down first. Rafe sat down next to you a few minutes later, plate heaped high with pancakes and raspberries.

After a few minutes of eating, the music being the only noise in the kitchen, Rafe turned to you, “You’re so intelligent and I don’t want you to let this one test discourage you. I know you’ll bounce back.”

“I studied so hard,” you told him, almost whispering, “I knew this was going to be hard, but I have no prior experience to fall back on, and it’s killing me.”

“But you’ll learn. Now you know how exams are structured, and you can adjust your studying habits. Next test will go great, I promise.”

You couldn’t stop it, it had been building between the two of you for months, and in your extra emotional state, you acted more rashly than normal. Setting your fork down, you turned to him and grabbed the front of his shirt. Rafe was startled, but turned to face you, not prepared for you to kiss him.

He froze and you almost regretted it, loosening your grip on his shirt, about to pull away embarrassed when he started kissing you back. Rafe tasted like syrup and raspberries, an addicting combination. Unfortunately, you eventually had to pull away to breathe, and Rafe pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while you caught your breath.

He picked his fork back up and smiled widely at you, “So that was nice.”

You blushed, “Yeah, um, sorry.”

“I’m not,” he stole a strawberry off your plate, “I didn’t want to make a move and make you uncomfortable if I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

“You, um, you weren’t reading it wrong.”

“I see that.”

Your blush deepened as he smiled wider at you. You shrugged, “So, what now?”

“Well, hopefully, now you’ll let me take you out and see where we go from there.”

“I’d like that.”

Four:

You weren’t sure if it was an out of sight, out of mind situation, but your parents planned a couple’s trip for Christmas, and you weren’t invited. Which would make this the first time in your entire life you wouldn’t spend Christmas with your family. You had mixed feelings. On one hand, you were hurt at the blatant disregard of you and your feelings, but on the other hand it gave you the chance to spend your first holiday alone with Rafe.

The two of you were eating hummus and doing homework when you decided to bring it up. He was on the floor, and you were on the couch, so you nudged his shoulder with your foot to get his attention, “How do you feel about spending Christmas together?”

He looked back at you with a wide smile, “I feel like it would be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You grabbed a blank sheet of paper and handed it down to him, “Write down specific foods you want.”

“What do you normally eat on Christmas?” he asked, not taking the paper.

With a shrug, you pulled the paper back, “I don’t know, we normally do gumbo and cornbread and German chocolate cake.”

Rafe grabbed your ankle, shaking your leg a few times, “Let’s do that.”

“You don’t want to add anything?” you asked, hesitant.

He bit the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking, “Maybe we could do a baked mac and cheese. We had those a lot growing up before Mom left.”

“Find me the recipe and I’ll make it for you, bub.”

With a wide smile, Rafe grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “You’re the best.”

When Christmas finally rolled around, you woke up early to start cooking. Your mom suggested a Dutch oven, something you didn’t already own, and to buy file powder instead of trying the cornstarch method. She also told you to make the cake a day earlier so you wouldn’t have to worry about it with the rest of the food.

You worked with Christmas music playing softly in the background, focusing on making sure the flour and oil combination didn’t burn before adding the veggies. The recipe wasn’t hard, but it did require a lot of stirring and paying attention and exact timing.

By the time it was ready to start simmering for about 30 minutes, you had started boiling the pasta for the mac and cheese. That recipe was simple, and you’d been playing with the cheese topping in your own time to make the flavor blend better with the gumbo, and you were pretty sure you’d figured it out.

With practiced ease, you finished it and poured it over the pasta before setting it to bake. By then, it was time to finish the gumbo, make the cornbread, and get dressed.

Rafe showed up just as you finished getting dressed and the cornbread timer was going off. He had a key and let himself in, and you knew he could handle taking the cornbread out.

“Babe, I’m here,” he called out as he shut the timer off.

“Coming,” you yelled back, smoothing your sweater down.

By the time you finally made it to the kitchen Rafe had set all of the food on the counter and he was leaned next to it in his own sweater and jeans. He held his arms out for a hug, and you walked into them happily.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed and reached up to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas,” you told him, pulling away.

“Food looks good,” he complimented, reaching for the bowls and plates he’d gotten out.

You looked over the spread and smiled proudly, “It does, doesn’t it?”

“You want to eat on the couch and watch the Jim Carrey Grinch?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you grabbed a plate, “Fuck yes.”

The two of you settled on the couch, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the background. Rafe started the movie and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, plate in his lap. You leaned into him and let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. This Christmas, while out of the ordinary, was your favorite one yet.

+ One:

You got home after work, exhausted. Your apartment was dark and cold and it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Work had been so time consuming over the past month you’d barely seen Rafe and you missed him. But if you got the promotion your boss had been hinting at, you’d get more manageable hours and higher pay, so you were grinding it out until then.

Dropping your bag by the door, you kicked off your shoes before slowly walking to the couch. Before you could sit down, there was a knock at the door. You considered ignoring it, but it persisted, so you walked slowly back to answer.

Rafe was standing there, giant grin on his face, with a steaming pot of something which explained why he didn’t use his key. It was very surreal and you blinked a few times in confusion before letting him in. He walked past you to the kitchen and set the dish down before digging through your drawer for the matches to light your favorite candle on the counter.

“Go get changed,” he urged, “I’ll get plates set up.”

Your phone rang as you were changing into shorts and you grabbed it out of the discarded pants pocket. When you saw your boss’s name, your heart rate doubled and you answered shakily. The phone call was brief, and the gist was that you’d gotten the promotion and the next day off.

Energy immediately filled your body and you ran to the kitchen where Rafe was scooping out what looked like mac and cheese onto plates.

“Rafe!”

He looked up, startled, “What’s up?”

“I got it!”

“The promotion?” he asked, eagerly.

You nodded, beaming, and jumped into his arms when he opened them. Rafe spun you around a few times and kissed you hard. Slowly setting you back down to your feet, he deepened the kiss, your hands winding into his hair.

Rafe pulled away first, pressing soft kisses to both of your cheeks and your forehead before standing up fully. You let go of his hair and took the hand he offered to you. Leading you to the couch, he sat down and motioned for you to do the same.

“Is this mac and cheese?” you asked, poking at the food with the fork he’d brought you.

“It is. I went on snapchat earlier and realized that it’s an anniversary of sorts. I wanted to make you dinner for once since I know you’ve had a long week.”

“Anniversary?”

A faint blush rose on his cheeks and he cleared his throat, “Um, yeah, a year since we met.”

You laughed loudly, “When you set your fucking kitchen on fire making mac and cheese?”

“A year ago, today. And with your cooking help, I can now make mac and cheese without setting the kitchen on fire.”

Poking at it again, you looked up at him, almost fearing the answer, “This isn’t Kraft right?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, “I called your mom to get her recipe.”

Biting your lip to hold back the onslaught of emotions, you took in a shaky breath, “Right. Okay. Um, I love you, Bub. And this is genuinely the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Rafe kissed your temple before lifting your chin to make you look him in the eye, “I love you too, and as crazy as it sounds, I’m glad I set my kitchen on fire.”

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

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