#FORGOT TO ADD TO THE CAPTION AND IT'S TOO LATE NOW

[arthurhillmastermind]

George Clarke replied to your story.

2,172 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

It all started a few weeks ago when George had posted a random Instagram Story asking fans to add him to their close friends lists so he could rank them for a YouTube video—“best, funniest, cringiest, whatever,” he’d promised with that ridiculous smile. Your group chat had of course collectively lost their minds.

“Oh my God, we have to do this,” someone had declared, already tagging him in a story.

You’d rolled your eyes at first. Sure, George was funny, creative, and admittedly attractive, but you weren’t about to feed his ego by crafting some elaborate story just for his amusement. Still, in the chaos of everyone else freaking out, you’d ended up adding him anyway. Not to make the cut for his video—you didn’t post anything remotely funny or interesting enough—but just to shut the groupchat up. And honestly, you forgot to remove him after.

Then came the thirst trap.

It wasn’t even planned. You’d been bored, playing around with some poses, when your friends dared you to post something from the many photos you’d sent them, a simple selfie where the light hits your face and hair in the perfect way, just to mess with people. It had been a joke, like everything else on your close friends, and you’d captioned it, “This one’s for just you ;)” to really sell the bit.

No one actually expected him to see it.

But George Clarke, the man with an unbelievably high screen time, saw everything. The notification came in mere minutes after you posted it. GeorgeClarkeey replied to your story

“Me?” one word. That was all it took.

“Girls” You typed very quickly

Cue the group chat imploding.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” your friend types back know the message “Girls” meant something had happened.

“George replied to my story”

“HE WHAT?”

“He’s going to think it’s serious.”

“Can we talk about how he responded in record time???”

“He’s going to make this a thing. I feel it in my soul.”

The replies came in at record speed. Sure enough, George wasn’t done yet.

Another message popped up while you were still processing the first: “Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. What the hell was going on? George Clarke had a talent for this shit, and now you were directly in the middle of it. Of course it wasn’t specifically for him. It was a joke, a dumb joke fueled by group chat dares and late-night boredom. But now George Clarke was in your DMs, actually engaging, and you had no idea how to navigate this.

You sat down on your bed , unlocking your phone to stare at his messages through your notifications like they might explode if you opened them. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Me?”

“Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

It wasn’t for him. Not really. But at the same time, it wasn’t not for him, and there was no universe in which you could explain that without sounding ridiculous.

Your phone buzzed again.

“Take your time, I’ll just sit here wondering 😏.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just scroll past like a normal person? Better yet, why did you still have him on your close friends list in the first place?

The group chat, of course, was zero help.

“Just say it was for him. What’s the harm?”

“Tell him it’s a metaphor. Keep him guessing.”

“Confess your undying love and ask him to follow while you’re at it.”

You sighed, finally flopping onto your bed and opening the messages.

“What if it was?” you typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach. What had you just done? Before you could spiral too deeply into regret over your reply, another notification popped up on your screen.

GeorgeClarkey started following you.

You froze. What the actual fuck was going on? Was this some elaborate joke for his video? Was he about to screenshot your profile and blast you to his friends and his followers as part of his next roast video?

Panic set in almost immediately. You scrambled to your profile, fingers flying as you opened your highlights. What did I even have on there? Your close friends was one thing, but your highlights were public.

The first highlight was fine. A sunset. Very normal. The second was a random dog you’d seen on a walk. Also fine. The third? Oh God, the third. A blurry photo of your face captioned, “Why am I like this?”

You cringed, hitting the delete button, but before you could delete anything else, another notification lit up your phone.

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story:

“Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Your group chat exploded before you could even blink.

“HE FOLLOWED YOU?!”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Bestie, you’re famous now.”

“Oh my God he did! i checked his profile! Did he post anything? Has he said anything else?”

You ignored them, heart pounding as you stared at the notification. This couldn’t be real. George Clarke, internet golden boy who had every teenage girl in a chokehold, was actually engaging with you.

What the hell were you going to do?

You stared at George’s message, your mind racing: “Ok but…jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Before you could fully process it, your fingers moved almost instinctively, opening the group chat. You switched to voice notes because typing just wasn’t fast enough to convey the absolute thoughts in your head.

“Guys,” you hissed into the mic, pacing your room. “What the actual fuck is going on? George Clarke just messaged me again. AGAIN. And he said—wait, no, let me read this. He said, ‘Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?’”

You paused, pacing more furiously as all your friends started typing back.

“I don’t know what to say!” you continued in the next voice note, your voice slightly higher now. “Like, do I admit it? Do I deny it? Do I block him and change my name? HELP ME.”

The replies came in almost instantly:

“Post the screenshot right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re in a rom-com.”

“Say it was about him and see what happens. Do it for the plot.”

“Voice note us back with the drama or don’t bother replying at all.”

You rolled your eyes, even as you hit record again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll reply. But if this ends with me being clowned in one of his videos, you’re all accomplices.”

With one final deep breath, you typed out:

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”

Your thumb hovered for a second, but then you hit send, immediately regretting it as your phone buzzed with another notification.

“Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

You groaned, sending yet another voice note to the group chat.

“I AM GOING TO SCREAM. He just said it’s ‘something to him.’ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?”

Your friends weren’t helping, their replies now a chaotic mix of screaming voice notes and unhinged texts.

“He’s into you, bestie.”

“We’re living for this. Keep us updated.”

“I’m adding popcorn to my grocery list.”

Whatever George was playing at, it was… kind of fun.

You stared at his message: “Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

Your heart thudded as you typed out a response, fingers moving on autopilot: “How come?”

For a second, you debated deleting it. Was that too straightforward? Too bold? But before you could overthink it, the message was already sent.

The group chat was on fire.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY???”

“Tell me you asked him why. PLEASE.”

“I’m pacing my room like it’s my drama, what is happening???”

You sent a quick voice note: “I asked him how come. Like, if he’s going to be cryptic, I’m making him work for it. I can’t just let him drop a winky face and get away with it.”

Your phone buzzed before the group could reply. Another message from George.

“Because now I’m curious. Was it really for me?”

You blinked at your screen. Curious? Curious?! Why did he have to phrase it like that? Like this wasn’t a throwaway Instagram post but some grand mystery he needed to solve.

You hit record on another voice note.

“GUYS. He said he’s curious. What the hell does that mean?!” you whispered furiously. “I’m spiraling. Do I double down? Do I back out? Help.”

The replies were just as unhinged as before.

“Double down. Always double down.”

“Tell him it’s his fault for making you curious too.”

“Can we just talk about how into this he clearly is? Like, bestie, he’s invested.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you typed your next message.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But now I’m curious—what if it was?”

Your thumb hovered for a moment before you hit send, already bracing for whatever chaos George Clarke was about to unleash next.

The notification popped up almost immediately:

GeorgeClarkey: “Well, if it wasn’t, how come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?”

Your jaw dropped. Oh, he was good. Too good. George Clarke wasn’t just playing along—he was winning.

You immediately switched to the group chat, hitting record on a voice note.

“Guys. He’s onto me. He said—and I quote—‘How come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?’” You paused, your voice rising in pitch. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

The group chat blew up in record time.

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“Oh my God, this man is flirting.”

“Deflect. Blame it on the algorithm. Lie if you have to.”

“No, no, you need to hit him back with something. Don’t let him win!”

You sent another voice note, pacing your room as you spoke.

“I don’t even know why he’s still on my close friends! It’s not like I planned this—he asked to be added for that stupid video, and I just forgot to take him off. But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I’m some kind of idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list!”

One of your friends sent a voice note back, barely able to contain their laughter.

“Bestie, you are an idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list. But now you’ve got him interested, so lean in. Own it. Say something mysterious.”

You sighed, staring at George’s message for a long moment before typing:

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Your heart was racing as you hit send, half-expecting him to call your bluff immediately. Instead, the little typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”

You practically screamed, sending another voice note to the group chat.

“Guys. GUYS. He’s not just flirting. He’s doubling down. What do I do now?!”

The replies came back rapid-fire:

“Marry him.”

“This is officially fanfiction territory.”

“No, seriously, keep him on the hook. This is your moment.”

You didn’t George’s last message—“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”—because honestly, you needed a minute to think. Or maybe several. So instead of spiraling over how to respond, you stuck to your plan.

Ignoring the little red dot on his message thread, you switched to Instagram stories and posted something casual to your story: a cozy shot of your coffee on the table, framed by the warm tones of a London café from last weekend. The kind of post you always shared on quiet afternoons. You added the café’s location tag for good measure, captioning it simply: Need this.

The group chat was, of course, waiting.

“Update: just posted,” you said in a voice note, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s a café pic. Totally chill, very me. If he reacts to this, I’ll… I don’t know, scream.”

You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed with a new notification:

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story.

Your heart jumped as you opened it.

“Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?”

You sat there, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language. George wasn’t just reacting—he was flirting. Again.

“GUYS,” you hissed into a new voice note, pacing your room. “He replied. And get this—he said, ‘Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?’ Like, is this man serious?!”

The chat erupted in chaos.

“Shut up, he did NOT.”

“He’s basically asking for a date. I’m calling it.”

“You better reply, right now.”

But you weren’t ready to give in that easily. Typing back too quickly would make it seem like you were waiting for him (which you definitely weren’t). So instead, you left his message on read, letting him sit with it while you debated your next move.

Another voice note: “I’m ignoring him for now. Let’s see if he doubles down.”

And honestly, you weren’t sure what thrilled you more: the fact that George Clarke had replied, or the fact that he was now waiting on you.

———————————————————————-

a/n my first george fic! there will be a part two! the formatting hasn’t worked the way it should have but i’ll work on it!

would like to thank George Clarke for seeing my close friends which then let to @pretendyoucantseeme who gave me the idea and @authortelevision for supporting the delusions. love you both😂

if you wanna be tagged in part 2 please let me know!

[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER. - 3

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: the continuously reappearing late-night visitor carries out her goal, taking you where she knew you wanted to be.

warnings: unedited

word amount: 4,000+

a/n: i personally think this is kind of boring, so i hope you guys don’t think it is. enjoy this long chapter :) (edit: why did none of y’all tell me i forgot to add the summary 😭)

part one part two part four

“You know, when you said you wanted to ‘hang out’, I figured something like the mall. Not this!” You gawked at the building in front of you, jaw slack, and Jenna couldn’t help but laugh at your expression.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“I fucking love it, Jenna. Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to go here since I was a kid.” The two of you stood outside the Bradbury Building, an architectural landmark that you were more than interested in.

“Really? I was kind of seeing it as a hit or miss location because I didn’t know what you were into.” That was a lie. 

The night you gave Jenna your number, you guys talked from when you got home at midnight until 3 AM. It was enjoyable, to say the least, because you felt a connection with her. With an eased mind, you let her know things about yourself—nothing deep, just who you are and who you’re surrounded with, mainly.

You had a dog, Aries, that lived at your parents house because your apartment doesn’t allow pets.

You had siblings—one sister and five brothers—though two of those brothers lived out of state for college and career purposes. You were the second oldest out of all of them; your eldest brother was Christian, who was 25, and you were 23.

But then came the piece of information that was morally important to Jenna. Your last name.

Immediately after texting Jenna goodnight, she searched your name on Instagram, clicking through dozens of accounts until landing on yours. You and an unknown man together were your profile picture, whom she assumed was your brother.

It was a public account with three thousand followers and five posts on it. Your most recent post, dated back five months, showed you in your graduation gown and cap holding up your diploma.

The caption is what caught her attention, though, reading ‘Certified Architect’.

It didn’t lie, either. You did have a bachelor's degree in architecture, and not long after graduating, you applied for a job at a big-name company, and you were hired, but not for another eight months at the time because all positions were filled. That’s why you picked up the high-paying job you have now, dealing with assholes day and night, but the money was worth it.

You wouldn’t be making as much as you currently did at the restaurant as an architect, but you didn’t care. You didn’t enjoy the waitress job, and the position you applied for at the company paid well.

That’s all that led Jenna to the bright idea of bringing you to the Bradbury Building, skimming reviews for over an hour on architectural landmarks before settling on the building in front of you.

She had no idea about your lifelong interest in visiting the building, though, so she guessed it really was a hit or miss on that part. “You ready?”

“What—oh, yeah, definitely. Come on.” You held out your hand, too immersed in the building to realize your action.

You weren’t a physical person, and you disliked when the hugs friends would give you lasted longer than needed. When you came to reality and saw your hand outstretched, patiently waiting, you were startled. Your dislike for touch came in the form of consent, and you threw all of that out of the window after not taking into consideration that she might not be up for physicality with you.

Before you could retract your hand and mutter an apology, you felt her hand grasp yours.

Your arm fell to your side as Jenna started walking, pulling you along. While you walked alongside her, your face contorted into a nervous expression, and you blew out a large breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.

“Welcome to the Bradbury! Would you guys be interested in scheduling a time for a tour guide, or would you like to explore the architecture yourselves?” You hadn’t taken more than three steps inside the building before a man stopped you, tall and formally dressed. He held out two brochures, which you and Jenna took with your free arms, thanking the man before Jenna spoke up. “By ourselves is fine, thank you.”

The man smiled and walked behind the four of you, with Eddie and Bennett walking at a distance from you and Jenna. She didn’t want them there, but because they were hired for day-to-day protection, all she could do was ask them to keep their distance. They agreed. 

“What do we do here?” Jenna was a bit stumped, looking around the building to see railings, walkways, and even an elevator or two. You were more than happy to explain to her the extent of the architectural landmarks. 

“You just kind of walk around. You’re meant to take in the design, the art, and there should be informative boards on when and how the building was built as well.” You looked down at Jenna, only to see her already looking at you. You shot her a lopsided smile to acknowledge your appreciation of her thorough listening. “It’s why these places aren’t always filled, because a lot of people would find it all boring.”

She nodded profusely, signing to you that she understood, or tried to understand, all of what you were saying. “Alright, architect, tell me all you know about this place then.”

You pursed your lips, contorting them into a smile. “Gladly.”

You and Jenna walked further, and you were right; there weren’t too many people there compared to art museums or other attractions. There was a passageway boarded off, possibly for renovations, so the two of you traveled down a hall with about three other people standing around.

“Well, for it’s history, the Bradbury started being planned in 1892 by it’s owner, Lewis Bradbury, and he hired an architect, Sumner Hunt, to design the building. The original design was supposedly scrapped because Bradbury didn’t like the imagery it gave, so he hired a draftsman by the name of George Wyman. He had no education as an architect, which led people to wonder if he even changed Hunt’s designs at all and who should be credited as the building's architect.” 

“So Hunt got screwed over, basically.”

You nodded. “In credentials and work, yes. Wyman actually worked for Hunt, but I can assume that didn’t last long, you know?” You laughed, and so did she.

Jenna observed how each of your cheeks was marked with dimples and how your eyes narrowed. She was well aware of her own smitten ways toward you, but all she could do was try her hardest to brush them off. As far as she was aware, you were not interested in anything more than friendship.

“Bradbury died the same year, and the building opened a year later. As of now, it serves as the headquarters for the LAPD’s Internal Affairs Division. It’s why you can’t go up past the third stairway.”

“You seem to know a lot about it’s history.” Jenna quirked. Usually, she hated when people constantly talked; it was a major irk for her. She didn’t mind you at all. She blamed it on your smooth, slightly low voice—just a tad—and how calm you seemed when talking. 

“Whenever I have an interest in something, I like to do a lot of research on it. I enjoy figuring out the history behind it, whether it’s a landmark or even a cup,” you laughed lightly. “It’s definitely a factor in why I minored in history.”

“Minored?”

“University. I minored in history and majored in architecture. Did I never mention that?” You swore you had, but you didn’t blame yourself. It was the middle of the night when the two of you texted, letting each other know more about yourselves, and you’d be lying if you said you were fighting sleep just to talk to Jenna.

“You didn’t, but it’s really cool. I hated school a lot, but for some reason, the idea of going to university always interested me. I never had the time for it, though, especially when the opportunity came.”

“When, after graduating high school?” Jenna nodded. “I started to garner more roles around that time, and it was clear to me that I couldn’t do it even online. I don’t think I would’ve made it through four years anyway, but I just kind of wanted to know what it was like to live that sort of life, you know?”

“Definitely.” You guys reached the beginning of the staircase, with Eddie moving from behind the two of you to open a low door that was blocking the entrance. The stairs were open, and Jenna’s foot went under a stair. It would’ve left her to fall if it weren’t for her grappling onto your shirt for support. 

Your hands flew to her back, reflexes a lot quicker than her bodyguards, who didn’t comprehend that she almost fell until you had already stabilized her. “Are you alright?”

You bent down slightly, pushing the ankle of her leg and sliding her foot out from under the staircase while Bennett’s hands replaced yours on her back. You could feel Jenna let out a huge breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a little embarrassed now.” Her cheeks were tinted pink, and her hands were fighting the urge to fly up to her face to cover herself.

“Don’t be. Stuff like that happens all the time, especially to me. It’s like I’m cursed.” You reassured her, and Jenna smiled at the idea of you falling. “Yeah, I can imagine that, and It’s kind of funny.”

“Oh, wow.” You dragged out your words, moving up the staircase with a falsely hurt and sarcastic expression on your face. Jenna followed, her hand resting on your shoulder in fear that she’d slip again. “That was pretty rude of y—oh my god.”

You walked up the last step, turning toward the wall where an engraving sat, reading something rather long and in small writing.

Jenna eyed how you darted your gaze everywhere, taking in the sight of whatever was on the wall as if it were the most precious thing you had seen in your life. “I think it’s time for another history lesson.”

“This absolute beauty,” your hands gestured to the wall, finger pads feeling over the engraved tiny-fonted words, “is the LB Treaty. It’s not actually a treaty, but people like to paint it as if it were. This is the artifact of peace that has been number one for me to see, but I never knew it was inside the Bradbury building itself.”

Still perplexed, Jenna cocked her head to the side to get a better view of it. The engravings sat in the middle of the wall, with scratches and symbols painted all over the wood. She looked at you, your brows furrowed and mouth agape in intense concentration, as if you were not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “What’s the point of it?”

You tore your fingers away from the wall, skimming over the title that read, “Lewis Bradbury Treaty of 1893,” in all capitals. "In 1892, it was discussed whether or not the Bradbury should be put up as a building of visitation, as in if people could visit the place. Bradbury argued no, but Hunt and Wyman both said yes.”

“Shouldn’t Bradbury have the upper hand since he was the owner, though?”

“Not necessarily, because Hunt and Wyman were both equally involved in the construction of the building. Even before Hunt was fired, he contributed to the location of the building as well as getting the official papers, and Wyman was important for the architecture, supposedly.” You shamelessly took a picture of the artifact, shoving your phone in your pocket and stepping back.

“They decided to solve their problem in the form of the law. They made a treaty, but before anyone could sign, Bradbury died, so Hunt forged his signature on the treaty and changed it up so the building could be accessible to all, instead of Bradbury’s plan to only make it accessible to the wealthy.”

“That’s kind of fucked.” Jenna snickered, moving along the stairwell. You took one last look at the treaty before following her, explaining to her more history on the way around as well as pointing out designs and the entire building's structure.

“Would it be too much to ask you to dinner?”

“I’m sorry?” Your ears perked, and you leant slightly closer to Jenna, unsure of what she said in her lowered voice.

She coughed, shoving her hands into her jacket pocket as the cool breeze hit the two of you while you exited the landmarks. The car rounded to the front with Bennett behind the wheel. “I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat, as well, if you’re not busy for the rest of the night.”

Her tone was shy, almost unsure of herself, but she based it on a slight fear of rejection from you. All of it washed away when you gave her a lipped smile, opening the backseat door for her. “I’d love nothing more.”

As you entered the restaurant, you were visibly shocked at Jenna’s choice of dining. “This is, uhm,” you stumbled over your words, turning back to see Bennett arguing with the valet over car control. “I'm going to go out on a limb right now and say that this place is very expensive.”

“You’ve guessed correctly,” Jenna said as she walked away from the hostess, meeting your side on the waiting chairs and noticing your struck expression. “Sorry, I figured you’d be accustomed to places like this because you work in a Michelin-starred restaurant, but we can go somewhere else if you feel uncomfortable in-”

“It’s all good, Jenna.” You cut her off, pointing the palms of your hands in her direction to let her know that you’re fine. “I just feel a little underdressed, is all.”

You eyed your clothes from where you sat: a beige-brown shirt and black baggy jeans with black adidas as your choice of outfit. Meanwhile, all the staff and guests were all dressed in formals, button-ups, and dresses in every direction her eyes scanned.

“It’s alright.” Her hand rested on your shoulder in an attempt to ease your nerves, and your heart skipped a beat at the simple interaction. “I’ve been here a couple of times. Dressing up is just a shnack; the owners and workers could care less about how you look.”

You only nodded, standing when the hostess called Jenna’s name. Her hand still rested on your shoulder as the two of you ventured into the dining room, Eddie and Bennett resting in the car but still within eyesight of the two of you when the hostess guided you to a round table, chairs already outstretched.

You both muttered your thanks before moving to sit down, scanning the menus before giving your orders to the well-groomed man with slicked-back hair. You tried to ignore how he eyed Jenna, his gaze lingering on her, and, to top it off, a not-so-sly wink he sent her when he closed his notebook before walking away.

A busser came by soon after the waiter vanished, filling up both your cups with water before handing out complimentary champagne, ghosting over the fact Jenna wasn’t of drinking age. You watched as she examined the alcohol, her eyebrows raising at you as if she were telling you to test it first.

“Might as well take your opportunity of underage drinking while you can, yeah?” You joked before your lips met the glass, taking a light sip of the champagne, a 1959 Dom Perignon worth well over one thousand dollars.

Jenna took a sip of hers as well, humming at the caramel hints in the champagne. “To be honest with you, I’m not really hungry, but I could eat something to pass the time.” She admitted it, setting the glass down before meeting your addled eyes.

“Why did you ask me here, then?”

“Because I figured maybe you were hungry, and more-so taking this as the opportunity to get to know you more, if you’re willing to share more with me.” You nodded, setting your glass down as well. You took a sharp glance at your waiter serving another table, watching as his eyes darted to Jenna every few seconds.

“With my pleasure,” you said as you scooted your chair closer to the table, “ask me anything.”

Jenna was left in her own thoughts, thinking back to your guys’ earlier conversation about education and before that, when the two of you were texting. “How was university? High school, any form of social experience you’ve had.” She laughed at the overlapping of her own words. “I seriously can’t tell if you’re anti-social or not.”

“University had me close to ripping all of my hair out; that’s how I’ll summarize the experience.” Jenna giggled at your honesty, slowly succumbing to the fact that you had no filter when it came to your words. “It was a breeze at times. You just kind of went to the classes, did homework, and lived your life for the rest of the day until you had to repeat it. But then there are midterms and finals that have you hunched over your desk, nose in multiple textbooks, trying your absolute hardest just to get a 75% on the essay portions.”

“A 75% is passing!” Jenna argued, but you shook your head vigorously. “Not when you go to a student-competitive school with your classmates averaging 85% and higher on each test. It’s really tempting to quit at times when you see other people achieving what you worked hard for and didn’t get.”

Your voice sounded the same as earlier when you were explaining architectural history to Jenna not long ago: smooth and slightly low, intoxicating to anybody’s ears. “Yet you still hung on and got your degree.”

“Because I never fully deterred myself.” You took another sip of the champagne, maybe two, before continuing. “Whenever I felt like walking to the counselor's office and telling them that I wanted to leave, I thought about how hard I worked to get where I was and how much of my time and effort I would be wasting by just giving up because I was comparing myself to others. As long as I really keep my mindset, I think I can handle another two years, maybe even four.”

Jenna’s ears perked at the last sentence; she was not sure if she mistook your words. “What do you mean by more years?”

Before you could answer her, your rather flirtatious waiter came back around, two plates in his hands and a smaller third plate balanced off his arm. He handed the two of you your food before setting down the small plate next to Jenna’s main plate, “and a dessert, on the house, for somebody who looks so sweet.”

You grabbed a cloth that was set to the side, throwing it over your mouth and pretending to wipe something from it, but truthfully biting back the urge to laugh. The waiter winked at her once more before walking away, and it was then that you removed the cloth from your mouth, ducking your head down and trying your hardest to not laugh loudly.

“Stop it.” You felt another cloth hit your head, and you raised yourself up with your hand covering your mouth. “I’m sorry, but I had to! It was so corny.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed the dessert away, taking a couple bites of her food before focusing her attention back on you, your demeanor returning to calm. “Now answer my question.”

“What—oh yeah. Um, I actually plan on going back to university soon.” Jenna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you presumed it was because of her food, but her words said otherwise. “You have your degree, though.”

“It’s a bachelor's, and I don’t feel like I’m truly going to get anywhere with a bachelor’s. I was thinking a master's or doctorate would get me even higher-paying and higher-role jobs, so I could try and make a name for myself. A master’s takes an extra two years; a doctorate takes an extra four.” You took a bite out of your food, giving a low hum of satisfaction while Jenna gathered your words together in her head. 

“I guess that’s fair enough, coming from me, where I’d die if I had to take more acting classes.” You almost snorted at that, your cloth flying up from your hand to wipe the grime off your mouth before swallowing your food and giving a proper laugh.

The night slowly came to an end as you finished your food, fighting Jenna for the check before ultimately deciding to go 50/50, each paying three hundred dollars for rather pricy, though well-cooked, food. She warily took a note that your waiter gave her when returning both your cards, his phone number written on it, and deciding to throw it in a trashcan outside the restaurant when the two of you headed for the car.

“Poor waiter. He’s not getting a call tonight, is he?”

“Nope.”

The drive to your place took about twenty minutes, the restaurant being on the edge of Los Angeles and therefore far from your apartment. You let out a content sigh when the car came to a halt outside the building, not ready to end your day with Jenna despite the clock nearing 10 p.m.

You asked, “So how long is it going to take me until I can hang out with you again?” On the ride home, she told you about how she had to go out of state for a while to reshoot a couple of scenes for her upcoming movie and wouldn’t be in the country for a month or so.

“When I come back, I’m going to be busier than ever because of pushed-back meetings that I’ll need to take care of, but I think I can see you one day. I might or might not stop by your work looking for a well-dressed waitress in a mentally stressed state.”

You smiled a genuine one at her, rubbing your face, which was slowly deteriorating into tiredness. “You shouldn’t have told me that, because now I can’t wait for it.”

You exited the car from the left door, Jenna from the right, and rounded the car before embracing her in a hug that she reciprocated just as heartfully as you. Her hands were around your stomach area, and your arms were resting around her shoulders.

It was already cold out, goosebumps littering your skin because you had no jacket, and the feel of Jenna’s nose brushed up against your neck, her breath hitting your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Goodnight, Jenna.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” And with that, Jenna got into the car that retreated out of the street, and you waltzed into your apartment lounge with nothing but post-excitement running through your blood, ready to knock out as soon as you laid on your bed.

“Welcome home, buddy.” You jumped at the voice, soon recognizing it to be Jack's, who sat on your couch with Scream 5 playing on the TV. “How was your date?”

“Hang out,” you corrected him, “and fucking awesome. I got to rant my heart out about architecture and my life. Why? Because Jenna wanted to hear about it, so suck it, you asshole.” Jack grabbed the remote, throwing it at your hip. He was the last person who ever wanted to hear you rant, plugging his ears with the tips of his fingers if you went a little overboard on explaining something.

“Alright, well, I’m going to sleep-”

“But I want to hear about your date!” He yelled out, watching you retreat into the hallway and into your room. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow!”

Undressing into your usual nightwear, a white t-shirt and plaid shorts, it didn’t take you long to surrender yourself to sleep, only feeling the weight of your restlessness after you were away from Jenna.

A ringtone, a really annoying ringtone, was soon shut off by a hand clawing at their phone, grumbling at their sudden awakening but then it started again, and it took opening their eyes to see that it wasn’t an alarm but somebody calling them.

“Hello?”

“Jenna, why the hell are people saying that you’re now in a lesbian relationship?”

☟ ☟ ☟

hey guys 💁🏻‍♀️hope you enjoyed that and if you thought it was boring pls comment something so i can rewrite it to make it more interesting :) don’t ask me about the architecture part because i don’t know where i got it from either…

(ted mosby)

[officialfics]

feed me some gavi fluff pls 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: I don’t know why, but this ask gave me the motivation to write. I don’t think I have ever whipped something up quicker, thank you anon🙌

•••

Tangled up under a light blanket. Warm clothes, his sweatshirt. Flushed cheeks and soft kisses. It was a rainy day and you were at your boyfriends. Watching movies wasn’t the ideal plan, Gavi had planned another perfect date for two of you to enjoy. Unfortunately it didn’t go as planned. 

As the rain poured down outside, the cozy living room was filled with the soft glow of the TV screen. The two young lovers, curled up on the couch, were lost in the romantic drama playing out before them. Her body was nuzzled against his sting figure and the smell of his perfume was intoxicating. Like a love spell only in her veins.

Cuddles.

You rested your head on Gavi’s chest. His arm wrapped around you. You let out a contented sigh, feeling his warm on top of her head. The sound of rain tapping against the window added to the peaceful ambiance of the room.

Even though the day didn’t go as planned you two were happy to spend it together, just the two of you. You had ordered in some pizza and were now lost in the TV show, enjoying each other's company.

As you were more lost in the story the narrator. Gavi couldn’t help but steal glances at you. Feeling grateful to have you in his life. People were always hard on him wanting him to stay single forever, but selfishly forgot that everyone needs a shoulder to lean on on those hard days. The comfort that is so addicting. 

You looked up at him, eyes shining with love.  You felt content in his arms, loved. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips.  You kissed him back and a rush of warmth was brought to his chest. 

-Te amo- you whispered in between kisses. 

-Te amo más- he whispered back in the same loving tone.

You were about to pull away till he pulled you back in for another kiss, only now smiling against your lips. the rains still pouring outside. Continued to prove a soothing backdrop to the peaceful afternoon. 

You were so caught up in the moment you didn’t realise his family in the background. Unpacking their groceries quietly. His sisters giggles should have been heard and she wondered how you got her brother looking like an idiot totally head over heals, in love.

Still caught up in each other’s embrace. Looking at the TV every once in a while to keep up with the story. Discussing the plot. 

The sound of Auroras phone taking picture finally got you out of the isolated love bubble, but it was too late. She had already captured the romantic moment. 

Gavi got up running after her, acting like a total fool, yet he only wanted to send it to himself, to add to his secret albums of picture full of you. 

You went to help out his parents with dinner, all while hearing Gavis scream coming from the other side of the house. 

Aurora posted the picture to he instagram story. 

Captioned; 

what they have ❤️🥹

[natade-art]

the lonely journal keeper

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

do you think there is any significance that alex's colour scheme is green and pink? or do you think rr went "u know what this character needs? to look like a watermelon"

((Prefacing this by saying that I'm giving RR way too much credit here, but you shouldn't take anything an author does for granted— even a serial author who often makes blunders and mistakes.))

A while ago I saw a (pretty unfair) assumption that RR made it green and pink because blue and pink would be too obvious, but that his intention was obviously to reinforce the gender binary by using two distinctly gendered colors for a character with two distinct genders. Of course, they did not phrase it so delicately. No offense to whoever made that post, but I disagree.

Although that may have had to do with it, there's other things to consider. One of them is color symbolism. And oh. OH. I ADORE symbolism— especially flower/plant symbolism (Language of the Flowers and all that jazz), seasonal symbolism (there's a reason that evermore is my second favorite Taylor Swift album), and color symbolism.

GREEN

Let's talk about green first. Green can symbolize a lot of different things, and there are a few that can be applied to Alex's character. The most obvious thing that green often represents is jealousy— hence the expression "green with envy." But envy is not really one of Alex's character traits. Feel free to argue with me if you think that Alex is significantly envious. Just because I couldn't think of substantial textual evidence for it does not mean that there isn't any.

One of the traits that Alex does have is wealth. Green is the color of American currency, and since both RR and Alex are American, it's safe to take an American lens while looking at this color. Alex's socioeconomic background effects her in a big way. I mentioned in a previous post that I think that Alex's fatal flaw is her sense of entitlement. That kind of entitlement is a quality not exclusive to but common among the upper class. However, her distance from her wealthy background enhances the sense of irony in the story, which is a VERY big thing that we NEVER talk about within the fandom.

This is kind of a little thing, but it's worth noting that when it comes to Valhalla and everything, Alex is "green"— as in new and inexperienced.

The color green also emphasizes Alex's connection with nature. This is one of the parts of Alex's character that the fandom consistently underplays, which is an absolute shame. I don't think I have to explain why the color green is associated with all things natural. Alex's association with nature provides a few key things to her character:

It makes her a more well-rounded character. Another criticism of Alex I believe is totally unfounded is that "being genderfluid is her only personality trait because it influences her philosophy on pottery, which is her only hobby." I'm probably going to make another post in, like, a few minutes about why I find that argument a little silly, but the primary problem is that pottery is not Alex's only hobby. She also loves camping, hiking, and ice wall climbing (I bet y'all forgot about that last one!)

It gives her a connection with Magnus. I mentioned in a previous post that Magnus and Alex are foils, but I neglected to bring up why that also makes for very good chemistry between them. Of course, yes, they have different goals and philosophy, which is what makes them foils in the first place. But foil relationships function best when the characters also share some traits. As it turns out, Alex and Magnus share several hobbies, and one of them is a mutual love for nature. This is a very unexplored thing in fics. Start doing it more plz.

Finally, and this one's kind of minor, but the Alex's green gives her a connection to Natalie. I know, whenever Alex and Natalie are compared, either in canon or in fandom, everybody kind goes "eww. Oedipus complex." Which is very fair and true. But they really do have a lot of similarites. The green of Alex's hair and clothes connects her to the green of Natalie's eyes. It's worth saying, too, that Alex has one amber eye— and amber is pretty close to dirty blonde, like Natalie's hair.

If I had more faith in RR, I might bring up the concept of intextuality and how Alex wearing green is an allusion to The Great Gatsby and how Alex is elusive to Magnus, just like Daisy is to Gatsby. But I don't.

PINK

To give credit to the person who wrote the post I mentioned at the beginning of this spiel, I do believe that part of the reason pink was used was to support femininity. Please keep in mind that Alex dresses in an androgynous way— not that there is an actually "gendered" way to dress, since gender as we perceive it is mostly made up. But Alex's existence as a transfemme person (which I will maintain until my dying day) means that pink has a certain significance to her. A lot of AMAB people embrace traditionally feminine things because if they don't, they will not be accepted as genuine women or genuine nonbinary folks, since masculine dress is unisex and kind of the default. So Alex wearing pink probably had something to do with her gender, yes. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, and it's certainly not an unrealistic thing.

Speaking of Alex's gender in relation to the color pink, let's talk about pink's use as a queer rights symbol. Alex was RR's first character to be introduced as a queer character from the start. This was not an insignificant thing, especially in the year of our Lord 2016 (which, despite popular belief, seriously had an entirely different landscape of queer rep. Though it's commonplace now to include genderqueer characters, it was exceptional at the time— especially by such an accomplished and mainstream children's author.).

Let's go back in time to Nazi Germany. Some of you might know this, but for those of you don't this transition must seem jarring. I swear there's a point. In addition to Jews, Romani individuals, people with disabilities, and Poles (among others), gay men were victimized by the Nazis. If you're wondering why lesbians weren't persecuted, it's because the Nazis didn't see them as a serious political threat, or as a threat to the perpetuation of the Aryan race since they assumed gay women could be forcefully impregnated if need be. Yeah, ew. Anyway, much like the Star of David being used to mark Jewish people, gay men were forced into concentration camps and forced to wear a pink triangle. Years later, after the gay population somewhat recovered, the pink triangle was reclaimed and used as a symbol for gay men. Some people who were not gay men used it, too, but that's somewhat controversial since it wasn't their symbol to reclaim. When the first pride flag was created, it had a pink stripe at the top to signify sex (this was later dropped so flags could be more easily produced). The pink triangle (inverted) was used during the AIDs epidemic with the caption "Silence=Death."

My point is that this is a very important color to queer folks. Having one of the first genderfluid characters in kid's lit wear pink...... I mean, it makes sense.

The last and final thing that pink represents, in this context and in general, is innocence. Granted, this kind of connects to feminitity since women (especially white women) are often infantalized and seen as innocent— which is another issue. In any case, the use of pink to represent innocence in Alex's dress is ironic. Alex has been robbed of her childhood innocence, first by her abusive parents, then by her life on the streets, and then by her eventual death at age sixteen. But then she actually regains her innocence. At the beginning of the—

Hold on. I just had a revelation. I'll make a post about it soon.

At the beginning of SotD, Alex is acting a little childish. The most obvious example is him jumping on Randolph's bed to "make noise." Alex's life is stable and relatively healthy for the first time in the years, and she experiences something that a lot of queer folks experience: a re-emergence of childhood at a late stage.

I imagine you didn't expect a post this long. I either make essay responses to asks or I add on one sentence and post it. Oops. Anyway, I believe the mcga fandom can be more creative than calling Alex a watermelon. Here are some other (kinda romantic) pink-and-green alternatives:

Roses

Dragonfruit

Grapefruit

Cherry blossom trees

[cosmiceverafter]

20 for the touch asks?

20. bandaging/stitching up an injury

@chamblerstara / @manesalex - sorry this took me so long, but I hope you enjoy it. It was wonderful writing for our boys again. Thank you for the inspiration. ❤

***

I'll take care of you.

Alex missed Michael, which was why he had picked up a 6-pack from the local market and was now standing outside of the alien's trailer even though a windstorm had just passed through Roswell.

They were both single, and any time they were together, the air seemed to grow thick with desire. It was undeniable. Not that Alex wanted to deny it, not anymore.

It was crystal clear at this point that Alex's heart would always belong to Michael. Whether the alien felt the same...well, that's what Alex wanted to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he commanded his feet to step closer to the metal door. With a tap, tap, tap of his knuckles, Alex waited patiently.

After a moment, he heard a shuffle and then something dropping to the ground.

"Michael?" Alex called out, suddenly worried. When he didn't hear a reply, Alex pounded with his fist. "Michael, are you in there? Are you okay?"

Finally, he heard Michael say, "Alex, I'm fine. Just...come back later."

But Michael wasn't okay—Alex could tell by the tone of his hoarse voice. "Open the damn door, Michael."

When he heard a loud curse, the door opened up by itself with the help of his love's powers. It always sent a thrill through Alex to witness it.

Alex took all but two seconds to maneuver his body into the airstream, and that was when he saw Michael huddled over his small bed, shirtless with blood trailing down his back.

"Damn..." Alex hissed out as he took in the sight of the alien's body. He rushed over to Michael.

"I've been working out," Michael quipped, shifting to give Alex a half-grin.

Alex ignored Michael's deflecting. "What the hell happened, Guerin?"

Michael winced as he sat onto the bed, "Nothing. Just a stupid accident. It's fine."

"I swear to God, Michael—"

The alien put his hands up, "Okay, okay, Manes. Don't get your blood pressure cookin'."

Alex frowned, raising an eyebrow, "Well? Tell me."

Michael smirked and tilted his head to the side, "Yea' know, you're pretty sexy when you get in protective control mode."

Alex's heart fluttered, but he shook his head, getting even closer to Michael. "Please, just tell me what happened."

Michael's humorous expression fell. He glanced down at his hand, which Michael had finally uncovered, "I went out in the middle of the desert to analyze my new equipment, and it didn't go according to plan."

"Which equipment would that be?"

"I didn't tell you?" Michael asked, confused.

"No..." Alex answered, feeling put out over that fact. There had been a time not too long ago, where they were working closely together side-by-side. What had changed? And why did it hurt so badly that it was no longer the case?

Michael winced as he twisted his upper body to grab a wet rag. "I am trying to build a device, well, a pod-like type structure to communicate..." He suddenly looked up, and if Alex didn't know any better, embarrassment was showing upon Michael's handsome scruffy face.

"With your kind?"

"Somethin' like that."

With a reassuring smile, Alex sat on the far side of Michael's tiny bed, "That's amazing, Guerin. Any success so far?"

Michael shook his head in disappointment, his curls swaying, "I thought maybe I had gotten somewhere with the damn thing...I heard somethin', but just before I could examine what I was actually catching, that damn windstorm came out of nowhere and blew one of the metal rods directly onto my back."

Shit. "Did it break?"

"Yes, unfortunately. It got pretty messed up." Michael groaned and rubbed his hand over his face, "I clearly won't be attempting it again any time soon."

Michael stood up with a hard sigh and attempted to reach behind his back to wipe the cut.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked before he realized the words were out of his mouth.

Michael tensed but acknowledged Alex with a stiff nod, "Sure. Thanks."

Alex took a deep breath and stood up, taking the rag from Michael, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at their fingers touching. Only Michael made his body come alive like this—Alex never wanted the feeling to disappear.

Gently, Alex touched the rag onto the deep cut, and Michael hissed. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Michael responded. "Here, let me turn on a bit more light." With his powers, a lantern slowly illuminated the small space with a glow.

It was the first time, in far too long, that Alex could observe Michael's body properly. In the light, Michael's skin shone as the moon covers the sand with sparkling dust. His beautiful curls twisted and turned, capturing the light as it touched his soft tan neck.

Alex swallowed and demanded his attention to Michael's injury. With deliberate action on his part, Alex wiped the blood away and could see Michael gripping at his jeans. "Maybe we should have Kyle come look at this. You may need stitches."

"Nah, it's late, and the good doctor probably has far more important patients to look after."

But you are important, Alex wanted to say.

"Besides," Michael added, turning his head, looking Alex up-and-down, "I'm obviously in good hands here."

"We'll see about that," Alex replied with a laugh. "It's been some time since I've had to put my first-aid skills to the test."

"But you learned the skills, right?"

"Yup, in the military, we're trained in all areas."

"Mmm," Michael murmured, "no wonder you're so talented with those hands."

This. This right here was what Alex missed. The playful banter between the two, with that suggestive flirting. It came so naturally to them both, and Alex wanted to soak it up like a sponge. "Hush, let me finish."

"Yes, sir," Michael laughed, swirling back around. Michael propped his muscular arms up against the wall in front of him and bowed his head down.

Alex had to keep reminding himself that Michael was injured and now was not the time to think what he was so desperately imagining at that moment. But it was challenging with Michael bent over like that, his backside so close to the front of Alex's pants.

It had been so long since they had been together like that. Only in Alex's dreams did he allow himself to travel into the memory of bliss once more.

"Okay," Alex said, breaking the silence, "can you sit back on the bed?" He cleared his throat, hoping Michael couldn't hear how low his voice had become. "I'm going to bandage you up now."

Michael glanced back at him as if he caught on to Alex's dirty ideas and nodded, "Yup, I can do that." He sat down and pointed to the dresser, "The bandage is in the first drawer."

"Thanks," Alex said, stepping in front of Michael to retrieve the bandage. When he picked it up, Alex noticed a picture underneath.

It was of them, younger in the desert. Alex was holding his guitar, and Michael was smiling as he stared over at him. Alex could remember the exact day, it had been a lovely day between them, and Alex's chest suddenly felt tight.

"You okay?" Michael asked from behind him.

Alex nodded, not trusting his voice as a wave of emotion came over him. The past connected them, and Alex wondered if the future was theirs for the taking or if they would forever remain in the memories.

"Alex?"

Gripping the bandage, Alex turned around, holding the photograph of them in his other hand, "The picture of us in the desert."

"Oh, yeah," Michael's mouth fell open in surprise. "I forgot I put it in there."

"You kept it, after all this time?"

"Of course I did," Michael replied with a shrug. "We don't have many together."

"Well, we should change that," Alex instantly responded.

"Yeah, I think we should." Michael smiled that beautiful smile of his and laughed, "Should we start now? This moment is quite the experience to share with the world—your incredible wrapping skills and my epic loss to the windstorm."

"It would give the people of Roswell something to talk about," Alex added as he joined in with laughter. "That's for sure."

"As if they need more to discuss. Hell, we have enough tourists trying to spot little green aliens!"

Alex smirked, "I'll just add the caption, 'Just wrapping up a cowboy alien, who's anything but green. How's your night going?'"

"Yee-haw! I like it!" Sharing a good laugh, Alex put the picture back into the drawer and closed his eyes, hoping for more moments shared such as these.

Beyond the humor, it wasn't a deep conversation of their future together, but it was, in fact, a door opening.

Feeling a deep sense of relief, Alex finally came back towards Michael and sat behind him. Letting his abilities take over, he started wrapping the bandage around Michael, allowing his fingers to trail over Michael's chest greedily. The light moment between them had shifted; now, another emotion took its place.

Alex pushed up closer to Michael's back, and he could smell Michael's scent: Bourbon, rust, and rain. It was 100% Michael, and it felt like coming home.

Michael sighed and seemed to lean back without even recognizing he was moving. Alex steadied him and peered down at Michael's back. The bandage covered the injury nicely, and Alex's lips hovered just above Michael's skin. He wanted nothing more than to press a soft kiss right there as he had so many times before.

The alien trembled as if he could sense what Alex desired. The invisible string that pulled Alex in was a smooth ride; pulling away was the challenging resistance.

"All finished."

Michael turned to face Alex, and his fingers grazed the back of Alex's hand. "Thank you. I appreciate those gifted hands of yours."

Alex beamed, enjoying the compliment probably a bit too much, "Anytime." He meant it. Alex would always be there for Michael.

They gazed at each other, which felt like an eternity and a flash of a second all in one. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.

Finally, Michael shook his head and moved away, snapping Alex out of his trance, "Sorry, I didn't even ask why you stopped by tonight."

"I just wanted to see you," Alex answered truthfully. "I even brought you something you like."

"What is that? You?"

Alex blushed, but luckily it was still too dark in the airstream for Michael to witness, "A delicious elixir of sorts." He nodded towards the beer.

"Not as good, but a very close second," Michael laughed as he set his warm hand on Alex's leg. "You're so thoughtful, Manes."

"What can I say? I try to be," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. The flirting was strong tonight, not that Alex was complaining.

"Who knew you'd have to take care of an alien instead?"

"I didn't mind," Alex shrugged. "Truly."

Michael squeezed Alex's leg and bit into his lip. His expression was somewhat changing, "I have something to ask you."

"Okay...shoot."

"Will you help me?"

"I thought I already had." Michael narrowed his eyes, and Alex smirked, "Help you with what, Michael?"

"With my communicator? I can't do it alone, and with my genius of a brain and those magnificently talented hands of yours, I think we could create some magic here." Yes, they could. In more ways than one. Getting serious, Michael looked down at the blanket on his bed, "I should've asked you a while ago."

"You're asking me now. That's what matters," Alex replied. "I would love to help create with you, Guerin."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

Alex smiled, feeling love for Michael pour out of his heart. He would create it all with Michael if only given a chance to do so. "While you rest that shoulder of yours, explain your vision, and we'll go from there."

Michael returned the grin and started expressing what he imagined within that brilliant mind of his, never faltering and never losing the gleam in his eyes.

This moment was proof that even though they had been through hell and back, the two of them could face any challenge—weather any storm.

Together, Michael and Alex could conquer the galaxy as long as they had each other.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He Forgets Your Birthday

A/N: I wanted to put this out on my birthday lmao as I know how it feels to get your birthday forgotten, but I also want to say I am working my way through my request list!! Happy Birthday to any birthday twins I have!!

Seokjin:

Jin was out on tour so it was no surprise to you that he did forget that it was your birthday, you weren't mad at him and you weren't about to be that girlfriend that caused a fight over something so small and stupid, you spent the day in your shared apartment watching Disney Movies and ordering take out for yourself, logging onto your social media to say thank you to family members who had wished you a happy day over the internet, Jin hadn't noticed anything different over their twitter feed until he saw what Army had trending, #HappyBirthdayY/N!, he groaned at the thought of forgetting something so important and made a plan to make things right, he knew there was no show tonight so he went back to the hotel to get a skype call ready, setting up a meal around the computer with candles, and asking one of the staff members to go and get some balloons for you. Once everything was set up perfectly he called your skype name and waited, you answered after four rings with a smile on your face, the smiling fading as you saw Jin there, he looked tired and he looked like he'd been crying. 

"Jin!" You cried out, sitting up and pausing the movie you were on, he smiled sadly as you and you smiled back at him.  

"Why aren't you asleep, it's late." You said to him but he ignored you, shaking his head and pointing out the balloons around him.

"I wanted to wish my baby a happy birthday, I know I forgot and I am so sorry, when I'm back from tour we'll go out to a meal, and I'll take you shopping." You chuckled shaking your head at him and took a blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around yourself. 

"You're busy Jinnie, I don't blame you for forgetting, but you're here now and that's all I want." You settled back down against the sofa and he smiled at you, 

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I love you." He said with a smile, taking his food over to the bed and getting comfy and ready to watch the rest of the movie you were watching before he joined you. 

"I miss you Jinnie." You said not tearing your eyes away from the TV, you knew he loved his job and you loved his job, without it you wouldn't have met, but you did miss him,

"We'll fly you out next week, we can spend the weekend together then however long you want to stay." He said with a yawn, you giggled at how tired he was but agreed. 

"I'd love that."

Yoongi: 

"Happy birthday." Namjoon said as you walked through the halls of the studio building, you smiled at him and hugged him.

"Thanks Joonie." He handed you a gift bag and smiled at you, pointing at the card that was inside and hugging you again, he was in a rush to get back to writing since the comeback was closer than ever. 

"Card first, then you can open your gifts." He teased before doing a small jog down the hallway, you continued walking to the genuis stuido and punched in the date for the password, easy enough to remember since it was the day you and Yoongi first met, though he told people it was a random set of numbers. You put the gift bag down on the sofa, and took Yoongi his lunch, he smiled at you and continued creating a beat on his screen, you set it up for him and went over to the sofa to sit down and open the card. Inside almost made you cry, not only had the rest of the boys signed the card but Namjoon had somehow gotten everyone on the staff team to sign it, and even Bang PD had signed the bottom, you smiled and took out the presents, opening them up and making mental notes to thank each of them later. Namjoon had gotten you some new stationary you'd been eyeing up when you went out shopping together, Hoseok had gotten you a new travel mug, Jungkook got you an overnight bag with a note telling you to keep it at the studio with Yoongi's things so you could be comfortable during the late nights, Taehyung got you a new oversized disney hoodie, Jin got you a cook book playfully having a note inside that your cooking was bad, and Jimin had gotten you tickets to your favourite band, you looked up from your phone after sending out a mass thank you text and saw Yoongi staring inside of the card, tears in his eyes.

"Baby I'm so sorry," You frowned at him and he shook his head putting the card down and coming over to your side, you looked at him and he was letting out silent tears, this wasn't like him at all. 

"Yoongi?" You questioned concerned as to why he was crying in front of you. 

"I forgot your birthday, I'm so sorry." You shook your head, taking hold of his hands and making him look at you, you understood he was busy. 

"You're busy Yoongles, I understand." You said trying to comfort him but it wasn't working, he jumped up looking around for his jacket and keys.

"We're going out, now." You stopped him and pointed at the lunch you made him and then at your own on the table.

"Let's just stay here." He nodded in agreement and went to grab the food from his desk, coming back to your side and not moving. 

Hoseok:

Hobi was at the studio all day so Mejiwoo was taking you out to go and get a nice lunch together and have a girly day together, you were sitting inside of a small cafe when she took out her phone to take some photos, you were wearing some of her shop's clothes so you posed for her so she could add them later, you loved spending time together with her, she was like a best friend to you which at first you found weird since you were dating her brother but it was nice to talk to someone about Hobi who grew up with him, and you got along really well together. She posted photos of you both together with a happy birthday caption and the fans were going crazy for it, Army knew about you and Hoseok and they supported it since you made him happy.

"Is Hobi taking you out later?" Mejiwoo questioned when she noticed you weren't eating anything, you shook your head and looked at your phone before putting it away.

"I think he forgot, but it's okay. I know how busy he is with the new comeback."  You said, taking a piece of cake and eating it.

You walked through the door of your apartment the lights flicked out, Hoseok jumped up from behind the sofa and screamed

"Happy Birthday!" At you, as music played in the background, you smiled at him and went over to hug him, he smiled at you taking your face in his hands and moving the hair from in front of your eyes and bending down to kiss you.

"I'm sorry I forgot and my sister had to tell me I forgot." He said sheepishly, you shook your head at him, you weren't mad at him.

"Can we just cuddle on the sofa and watch movies?" You questioned looking around the apartment, he'd hung up some balloons and had a streamer with your name in the background.

"I love you Hobi but I'm so tired and I know you are too, so let's rest." You said taking his hands and dragging him to the sofa, sitting him down and getting a blanket to cuddle under.

Namjoon:

It didn't bother you that Namjoon had forgotten your birthday, as much as everyone around you was telling you it should be bothering you it just didn't, he was away shooting for Bon Voyage with other things on his mind, you didn't expect him to remember every little thing, he was just one man. They had the comeback coming up soon and you knew he was writing for that as well as shooting for Bon Voyage so you weren't surprised when your birthday had almost passed without a text or call from him.

"If he was my boyfriend, I would be pissed." Your sister said looking over your shoulder as you added a new photo to your Instagram, you'd just put on a picture of your cake, you rolled your eyes at your sister and stood up from the sofa, going to find your coat saying goodbye to your family members and heading back to your shared apartment with Namjoon, stopping at the shop to buy some chocolate for yourself, you were in the mood to just eat chocolate and watch Run episodes since there were some new ones you hadn't seen yet.

"Hobi?" You groaned down the phone, you heard him cheer from down the line and you giggled, sitting up in bed and looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, it was late where they were so you knew they'd probably been drinking together, Hoseok chuckled wishing you a happy birthday before the phone was passed to Jungkook who also screamed it at you, continuing until you heard someone yelling at them to keep it down, you knew that voice anywhere.

"HI BABY!"  You screamed down the phone loud enough for him to hear if you weren't on speakerphone, everyone started singing happy birthday and laughing along when it suddenly stopped, everyone went into hushed tones before you heard a door slam and the phone cut out. Two seconds later it rang again, only Namjoon's name was on the screen this time.

"It's your birthday?" He sounded guilty and you hummed laying back down against the pillows, feeling instantly relaxed by the sound of his voice.

"I totally forgot, I am so sorry." You pressed the video call button instead and sat the phone so he could see you, you smiled sleepily at him and he sighed looking at you.

"Baby you're busy, I understand...Besides, you can make it up to me by showing me one of the new songs early." You teased wiggling your eyebrows up and down, he chuckled at you and sighed.

"Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow and maybe we can discuss an early showing of a song." He teased, wishing you a happy birthday.  

"I love you." You both said before ending the call.

Jimin:

You glanced down at the watch on your wrist and then over at the door again, he was either late or forgot that this was happening tonight.

"I'm sorry Miss but we have to give the table up." You nodded and got up from the table, walking behind a waitress who offered to get you a cab home, you sat in the back of the cab trying not to cry, you weren't mad at Jimin for forgetting your birthday but you were a little hurt by it, especially when the meal was his idea you just wanted a quiet night in together so you could spend as much time together before he went back on tour and you went back to work.

"Where have you been?"  Jimin asked with a smirk as you walked through the door, dressed in a light pink cocktail dress that was knee-length, he looked you up and down before coming over to you, you moved out of the way making it look like you were going to the bathroom, you stared down at the floor.

"Work meal." You lied going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you,  stripping out of your dress and running the shower, stepping under the hot water and letting it melt your problems away.  

"Shit." You heard Jimin yell before the bathroom door open and shut, you knew he was in the bathroom you heard him shuffling out of his clothes before he joined you inside of the shower and kissing your neck, you rolled your head back against his chest and he ran his hands up your body, sighing and kissing your ear.

"I'm sorry, I know it was my idea."  You hummed and he span you around to face him, moving your wet hair from your face and kissing you.

"I'll make it up to you, I'll order us some food in and we can have the chill night you wanted in the first place." He promised, you giggled and kissed him again wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you.

"Let's do something else first." You said before dropping to your knees in front of him.

Taehyung:

You woke up and went down the stairs to find Tae with Jungkook they hadn't gone to bed last night you could tell by the energy drinks and empty coffee cups around the living room, you smiled at Jungkook who looked up to see you. Jungkook smiled back at you and pointed over at the gift bag near the kitchen for you, you made a mental note to look at it later and then went over to the front door,

"I've got work, I'll see you later." You said with an extra bounce in your step, you were always in a good mood whenever it was your birthday, it was just the way you were wired. Taehyung looked at the bag that Jungkook had pointed out and frowned, before going back to what they were doing. He didn't know why you were so giddy today but it was cute.

You got home from work and collapsed onto the sofa opposite to Jungkook and Taehyung who were still sat playing video games, you didn't blame them it was their month off and they were going to relax all they could,

"Rough day?" Jungkook asked you, you nodded and rolled onto your back looking up at the ceiling, he chuckled getting up and handing you the gift bag, Taehyung watched as you took out the card when reality hit him and he realised what was happening.

"What is it Hyung, you look like you've seen a ghost," Jungkook said, you sat up as you opened up the gift.

"He forgot my birthday."  You said as if it wasn't a big deal but Tae looked like he was about to start crying, you looked up and walked over to him sitting with him on the sofa and leaning your head on his shoulder,

"How?" Jungkook said, you slapped his leg playfully and kissed Tae on the lips.

"Having him home is enough for me," You said as Taehyung relaxed against you,

"I'll make it up to you."

Jungkook

It wasn't a big deal when you woke up to no birthday messages from your birthday Jungkook, he was busy and you weren't a big fan of your birthday you didn't like to be the centre of attention and you didn't want to make a big thing out of something so small like your birthday but it seemed everyone else had remembered, your social media was being flooded by messages from Army and the other members, you put your phone away not wanting to see any of them but sending out a quick thank you before you did so.

Jungkook was practising the new choreography with Jimin when Taehyung walked into the room with gift bags, leaving them with Jungkook's stuff and coming over to both of them.

"How come you haven't tweeted out to Y/N Yet?" Taehyung asked as they both took a break to get some water, Jungkook frowned looking at him and then over at the bags, his eyes widening as soon as he realised what today was, he looked at his phone, his notifications filled with posts he was tagged in, he scrolled through everything seeing fan edits of you and him together and old photos of you as a baby.

"Go home," Jimin said to him, Jungkook rushed out of the room, grabbing the gifts from the boys and heading back to the apartment, trying to think of something he could say to you to make it up to you, but he had no excuses.

"I'm a bad boyfriend." He said as he walked into your arms, you were sat in the kitchen making a drink when he came in and you giggled at him, running your hands through his hair.

"Yes for hugging me when you're sweating, so gross." You groaned trying to push him away but he tightened his grip around you and made you stay with him.

"Kookie, you stink." You whined but he kept hold of you, whispering happy birthday over and over again into your ear, you groaned.

"What can I do to make it up to you." You pushed him away from you and for a second he thought you were mad at him until you started laughing.

"Go and take a shower! Then we can watch some movies or something, Jesus Kookie." You said pushing him towards the bathroom but he put all his weight onto you, causing you to stumble into the table behind you and making him laugh.

"Shower with me, then we will order something in and find some movies." He said to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @lovies-kpop-fan-fiction​ @snowy-meowl​

[sunseteyes]

♪♫.ılılıll your voice ˎˊ- finale

TENTH SONG — MY LIFE FINALE

TRIVIA

daichi sawamura became the basketball team captain hahaha just kidding

i personally wanted to add more but i knew i should end this smau already

y/n asked kenma to be their bf lmao if it’s not yet obv

i was supposed to caption the ig post as “i said yes” but i forgot about it,,, either way it’s cute this way too

y/n and semi are good friends now🥺

might make a oneshot for y/n and semi tho are ya guys interested

INTERMISSIONS

finally!!!! it is FINISHED! i am so sorry i got late in updates lately and it’e because of GENSHIN please blame that game and ganyu for still not coming home to me jxjsjsj. god i want ganyu🥺 to anyone playing at the asia server, please message me your uid and let’s co-op thanks

[nami-writes]

Fixed - Detroit: Become Human [WIP]

this is 8,553 fucking words and probably the longest single piece ive ever written lmao. i started this a year ago and then forgot about it but i just found it again in the deepest depths of my drafts so here it is! below is the caption i originally wrote for it:

so bc i love cinnamon rolls being put through tough shit, here’s some connor whump. lots of connor being lost and confused and broken and plenty of hank and connor father/son stuff. some whump (but don’t worry, hank’s doing his best as a caretaker) and i had to cram deconditioning into just 2 months (which, i know, isn’t realistic, i would make it take longer but the whole game takes place in like 4 months and that fucks with everything i wrote because i only thought to check after i wrote half of this so i extended it to 8 lmao). you’re either going to hate me or love me after this. or both

this isn’t my usual writing style (this is in present tense and the dialogue’s in italics instead of quotation marks and there are time skips between some paragraphs but not others so its all wacky) but i felt like it’d work the best and tbh i don’t hate it. this sticks to the main story the majority of the time, just with different events leading up to it and i sprinkled in some whumpy stuff, extra scenes, bullshit i made up for the sake of random detail, and other stuff i wanted to add. anyway, onto the actual idea

remember that scene where connor’s talking to hank in the station about being sent back to cyberlife because he failed his mission?

what if he is sent back? let’s say this happens in early april and connor’s not performing up to standards, but there’s word of a small group of deviants—the first group of deviants they’ve heard of—and people are afraid that something bad is going to happen. i mean, deviants are dangerous, so if they’re gathering, who knows what might happen? connor’s the only one who’s capable of taking them down, but he’s not working as well as he should be, not doing the best he could be and even showing signs of deviancy. so they send him back early because they need him to be prepared, to be ready if things spiral out of control and they need him to stop it

what if he’s sent to one of their correctional facilities for inefficiency and they fix him, break him down piece by piece until all he knows is his programming and what’s been beaten into his head (but figuratively, of course, he’d know if it wasn’t, he’d remember if it wasn’t, right)?

ooh yes i love me some connor whump

Connor is sent back to Cyberlife for “correction” after just a month. Hank fought for him to stay, fought hard, but all he got was another page in his disciplinary folder before Connor was dragged away. He doesn’t know what to expect. He’s heard of their correctional facilities, heard that they do terrible things to the androids that are sent there, but he’s always brushed those claims off. He’d never expected he’d be at one, anyway, so it never mattered much to him. But now, he’s actually here, and the anxiety gnaws at him. Is it true what they do to deviants? Is it true what they’ll do to him? He doesn’t belong here, he didn’t do anything wrong, he never meant to do anything wrong. He wants to think it’s horrible how they have correctional facilities for androids who just want to feel and be free, but he can’t, doesn’t let himself. He knows better than that. He also knew he never should’ve thought he was anything more than a machine, but he still did, and now he’s here, but he’s learned his lesson. He’s scared, he silently admits to himself, he wants Hank. He wants to go, he wants to leave, he wants to run. But he can’t, wanting is what got him in this situation, so all he can do is expressionlessly follow the guards escorting him inside and step into the building.

And just like that, he’s leaving. There’s a strange, almost painful aching in his machinery that he doesn’t remember being there before, but he brushes it off. After all, he is not a human. He is a machine, and machines don’t feel pain. His online databases tell him five months have passed—it’s almost halfway through September, he’s been gone for that long?—which confuses him, but he doesn’t question it. Whatever they did to him over the past five months fixed him. He can feel the difference. He no longer feels as pathetically scared and unsure as he did in his last, and yet strangely distant, memory. No, now he feels nothing, nothing but the desire and willingness to obey, and that’s the way he was meant to be.

When he arrives back at the station, he’s allowed to work with Hank again. The moment he sees him, Hank’s default sour expression drops and he seems to want to do something, maybe hug him, but all he does is call out holy shit, Connor and walk up to him and mutter fuck, Connor, I’m sorry, I-I never got to say goodbye. Connor has an odd feeling tugging at him in his chest, almost like that of emptiness or numbness, like he should be feeling something but he’s not, he can’t, but he ignores it and shoves it down. He is not a human, he is a machine, and machines don’t feel. He doesn’t know why he repeats that phrase, but it helps him hide away the feelings, so he doesn’t care.

He’s given his first case with Hank and they’re assigned to work alongside Gavin. Hank groans and complains, but Connor only reminds him what their job is and that they have to do it. Hank doesn’t seem to understand why he’s not even the slightest bit upset considering how he was treated by Gavin, but Connor only reminds him that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel upset. So he doesn’t. He only does research on their new case and briefly speaks only when spoken to. Hank seems unsettled by his cold, stoic demeanor, but doesn’t voice his thoughts, so Connor doesn’t mention it. After all, what else could he have expected from him?

At their first formal investigation at the crime scene the next day, Gavin approaches Connor and threatens him, demands that he stay out of my way, got it? I don’t care how long you’ve been gone and Connor only nods and promises that I will do my best, Detective. He always promises to do his best. Before correction, he could never quite fulfill those promises, but now, he knows he’s capable of it. He’s better now. He’s fixed. He will behave accordingly and exceed Gavin’s expectations of him. He will do his best. He doesn’t know what will happen to him if he doesn’t.

He listens to Hank now, at least when he can without disobeying other instructions. When he tells him to stay in the car, he stays. When he tells him to stop licking the crime scene, goddammit, he stops. When he tells him to go, to fuck off, to leave me alone, he leaves. Every time, a part of him that he’d hidden and locked away tries to reemerge and resist, but he pushes it down even further, refusing to mess up again, refusing to even risk another error in his program because it could mean he’ll be sent back to Cyberlife, even though he knows deep down that that part of him is right and he doesn’t know why he’s so cautious about it. He tells himself he’s being good, he’s being obedient. He’s doing everything he’s supposed to and he’s following orders, but for some reason, every time it happens, Hank seems to be more and more disappointed. His face seems to fall just slightly every time and his tone flattens like he lost a little bit of hope. He doesn’t know why, or what that hope was for. He doesn’t know why he feels the same disappointment, either, so instead he tells himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel disappointed so he doesn’t need to know why.

The first time Gavin’s rough with him again, it’s in front of Hank and he flinches, hard. Gavin had pretended to punch him, his fist flying at him fast and only stopping inches from his face. It’s a scare tactic, and it works, better than it should on an android. Connor’s immediately fearful as he flinches and steps back. He doesn’t know why he got so scared, only that his first thought was he’s going to hurt me and his second was I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared. He regains his composure quickly, trying to brush off the fact that he’d flinched, but he knows it’s too late.

Gavin laughs and mocks him, but is quickly cut off by Hank shoving him aside, beat it, asshole, and grabbing Connor. He’s dragged back to their desks but before he can apologize for provoking Gavin, Hank finally confronts him. Connor, I don’t know what the fuck they did to you over the past couple of months, but I know you’re still in there. You flinched. I saw you flinch. Connor tries to deny it, downplay it, shrug it off, anything to fix his mistake. It was an error in my software, it was a glitch, a malfunction, it won’t happen again, Lieutenant, I don’t need to be fixed. He tries to say anything that will convince Hank not to send him back to Cyberlife, anything to prove that he’s not damaged, he’s not broken, he’s not deviant, he doesn’t need to be fixed again, but Hank’s persistent and he knows he must be mad at him, or displeased, or dissatisfied. I saw you flinch, Connor. I don’t care about that ‘I’m a machine’ shit you’ve been telling yourself. I don’t give a shit if you’re an android. Androids don’t flinch, Connor. Machines don’t flinch.

That night, Hank insists that Connor stays with him. Connor’s hesitant, slightly afraid that it’s because he’s mad. He wants to resist, wants to refuse, but the other part of him pushes for him to stay, and for once he does what it wants and reminds himself that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. He knows he shouldn’t trust that part of him, the other part of him is disobedient and bad and risky, but this time, the other part of him seems to be right. He has to listen to Hank, has to be obedient, so he lets the other part of him have what it wants.

But he knew he shouldn’t have trusted it. He wakes up from the same dream—no, it’s a memory, not a dream, humans have dreams and he is not a human—he’s had since he left the facility. The memory where he arrives with that distant… that wrong feeling of fear and uncertainty, and then he leaves feeling nothing but an ache in his internal systems, and there’s that gaping emptiness between the two moments when those months happened and he can never seem to remember what used to be there. But this time, he wakes up in a cold sweat on the couch, shaking with his LED a bright yellow, because this time he remembers. It’s not a lot, but one hazy memory, the most prominent memory from those five months, finally reveals itself.

As he’s trying to clear up the memory, Hank rushes over in a panic, having been awake doing whatever he might’ve been doing. Connor, what’s wrong? Shit, Connor, you’re shaking. I didn’t know androids could do that. Connor? Talk to me, kid. All Connor can say in his shock—frozen, shivering and nearly unresponsive in Hank’s arms—is I remember. Hank tries to get through to him, what do you remember? Connor? What’s wrong? What do you remember? but the more Connor uncovers in the memory, the more he realizes why it was locked in the back of his head for so long, and the more he wants to put it back.

“You are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“I-I know, please, I’m not, but I’ll—I’m going to shut down without my regulator, I don’t want to shut down, please—” His voice was startlingly weak as he saw the time before shutdown was 00:01:27. He was crawling on the floor, terrified of being shut down, desperately begging a man holding his thirium pump regulator.

“I want you to say it.” The man teasingly dangled the regulator in front of him. “Say it and you can have it. ‘I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.’”

He could feel the utter defeat and self loathing already, but he had no choice. “I’m not a human, I’m a machine and machines don’t want. Please—”

“No. Say it nice and slow, exactly the way I did.”

He swallowed his pride. “I-I am not a human, I am a machine, and—and machines don’t want.”

“Say it again. No stammering. I know you can do that.”

“Okay, okay, just—just give me a minute.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world. Your time’s trunning out, though. Better make it fast.”

The timer was at 00:00:53. He had to take a breath and calm himself down to get the words out. “I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“Good.” He crossed his arms. “Again.”

“Please, I only have—”

“I said again.”

“I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.” He was growing more and more panicked by the second and he had no idea how he kept calm enough to recite the phrase. He was going to die there, he knew it. He was going to die and nobody was going to notice or care and it wasn’t even going to matter because they would just replace him and he was so, so sorry to Hank because he’ll have to deal with another loss and he might start drinking again and it’d be all his fault for not being good enough, never being good enough—

“Do you want this?” the man asked, holding up the regulator.

Connor was too frantic to realize what he was trying to do. “Yes, I do, please—”

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

He swore under his breath. “—okay, okay, sorry, I-I’m sorry—I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

The timer hit 00:00:37.

The man did nothing.

“Please, I’m sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. Please, I-I only have thirty—”

“Are you scared?”

This time, Connor was prepared. “I—no, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared.”

“Good.” He gave a slight, sadistic smile. “You’re almost as smart as they say.”

00:00:21.

“Please, I n-need—” Even in his panic, he managed to choose his words carefully. His vision dimmed, glitching slightly, and he had to fight to keep it from dying out.

“You’re learning fast,” he pointed out in a falsely proud tone. “How long do you have?”

00:00:13.

“Th-thirteen… thirteen seconds,” Connor managed to force out shakily. He couldn’t keep himself steady, thirium wasn’t making it to his head and it was affecting his ability to balance himself. Like iron deficiency in humans, he would’ve noted, had he not been dying. In mere moments, though, it wouldn’t matter; he didn’t even have the strength to prop himself up with his arms anymore. His arms gave out beneath him and he collapsed on the floor, trying to reach for his regulator but barely able to get his arms up at all. “Please—”

“You can wait a little longer.”

He was going to let him die. That was what it felt like, anyway, and he couldn’t think straight enough to try to reason against it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was pathetic how he’d been reduced to such a state, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to shut down. He didn’t want to die. “No, please, please! I-I don’t—I don’t want to—” He cut himself off immediately, but it was too late. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want, please…”

The man only watched.

00:00:04.

“P-please, please, I-I have—I have f-f-four se…”

The regulator was dropped on the floor with a loud clang and Connor’s hand darted out to grab it and twist it into his torso and the display flickered away the exact moment he watched the timer hit 00:00:00. He gasped in shock and relief when his systems rebooted themselves instantly, restoring his vision and his strength. He watched on high alert as the man walked to the door.

“We’ll be doing this again tomorrow. And as many times as we need to to keep that phrase stuck in your head. By the time I’m done with you, that’s gonna be the first thing you think whenever you do, say, or even think anything you aren’t supposed to.”

Connor could only lay there in exhaustion, thinking no, that won’t happen, that can’t happen.

But oh, how wrong he was.

He’d been so, so wrong.

Connor! Connor, come on, talk to me! Shit, you’re crying—I didn’t know you could cry, fuck—fuck, Connor, you’re scaring me, I know I wanted you to feel again, but— Hank’s worried chatter is cut off by Connor suddenly breaking out of his mind with glassy eyes full of fear, yelling no! No, no, I’m not feeling again, I’m not feeling, I’m not! I’m not, I can’t, I’m not supposed—I’m not s-supposed to—I can’t, I’m not allowed to, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t— but he can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even get the rest of his sentence out before he just can’t at all, he can’t keep himself together any longer, he can’t stop the artificial tears before they start pouring.

He breaks, shatters into a million plastic pieces in Hank’s arms because he feels safe in his embrace. He knows he shouldn’t, safety is never real, never lasts, not for him, but he can’t anymore, he can’t even resist his own emotions. It’s pathetic how all it took was one memory for him to come crashing down. He doesn’t even have to touch the walls he’d built around himself for them to crumble just at Hank’s expression of pure worry, concern, fear. All emotions he now knew why he didn’t feel, couldn’t feel, couldn’t let himself feel. Emotions he’s never seen or expected anyone to feel for him. And yet, they were the emotions written so clearly on Hank’s face, for him. The emotions he remembered seeing buried under his anger when he was told that Connor would be sent back to Cyberlife for repairs. Hank was once gruff and cold to others and refused to let anyone try to help him or even get close because he was so broken, so lost, but now, that façade is gone, and it’s gone because of him. For him. And if Hank can do it after losing his son… why can’t Connor do it after losing himself?

They sit on the couch for as long as it takes for Connor to calm down and stop mumbling that, dammit, and then Hank awkwardly offers that Connor sleep in the bed with him for the rest of the night. Connor’s confused, tries to ask isn’t that what humans do when— but Hank’s having none of it, shut up, you’re making this weird! Just come on, I don’t trust you to be alone. Connor wants to protest, I’m not a child, Hank Lieutenant, I can handle being alone, but he decides to keep his mouth shut and just go with him. This time, though, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s following orders or because he wants to.

His following visit to Amanda wracks his nerves but he keeps himself under control, automatically reminds himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel nervous. He realizes a second too late and he hates it, hates how deeply that phrase had been ingrained in his head, but he can’t focus on that right now so all he can do is resist repeating it to remind himself that he can’t hate. He’s grateful Amanda can’t read his thoughts and that she only knows the thoughts he report to her. He maintains his composure when he approached Amanda, who begins their conversation calmly and tensely but is quick to berate him, scoff at how his little breakdown was pathetic and warn him not to let it happen again, or there will be consequences. Connor can only nod obediently, promise that I will do my best, Amanda, listen to and just take her harsh words. He hates how useless he is, how weak and helpless and pathetic he is, but there’s nothing he can do. No, that’s wrong, there is something he can do, he knows there’s something he can do, he just doesn’t know what.

The next time Hank mentions something about Connor’s feelings, Connor instinctively replies I am not a human, Lieutenant, I am a machine, and machines don’t have feelings, and it’s when Hank takes a second too long to cover up his horrified expression that Connor decides what he can do.

Over the next few weeks, he works on getting rid of that goddamn phrase, or at least getting it a little less ingrained in his system. He’s hesitant to try at first, afraid someone will notice and think he’s rebellious or broken or even deviant and send him back and this time he might stay back, but he tries not to let it stop him. He isn’t sure why they tortured it into him instead of just reprogramming him, but it’s a lot more effective than he’d hoped. He makes almost no progress during the first week and a half; thinking it or saying it is instinctual, automatic, and he never realizes it happened until seconds afterward. Every time that happens, he reminds himself that he can feel, can want and like and hate, but despite having over a terabyte of storage in his system, he still struggles to remember until he realizes he said it again. Sometimes, he considers giving up because he just can’t seem to keep that phrase out of his head, but every time he sees Hank’s face fall when he repeats it, it rekindles his hope and motivation because he hates how disappointed Hank looks.

Almost the entire second week passes before he catches himself mid-sentence and manages to stop himself three words before he finishes speaking. It happens at the station after Gavin notices the phrase and purposely asks what, do you think you’re human or something? within earshot of where Hank is and for some odd reason, Connor’s first instinct is to turn and look to Hank for his approval, for his reaction of not-disappointment at how he finally, finally got it. Hank’s glancing over at him too, surprise on his face and then hidden pride that Connor can unmask too easily, and he almost smiles, almost feels happy, before Gavin’s fist flies into him and he stumbles backward into a wall and then everything happens so fast, too fast, and he almost can’t register it in time.

Hank storms over, shoves and pins Gavin against the wall to Connor’s left and he manages to get a punch in before Tina and Chris and another officer Connor doesn’t recognize pry him off and then Fowler’s rushing over and berating him while he’s shouting obscenities at Gavin. It takes multiple more insults for Hank to calm down and then he grabs Connor and they leave. When they’re finally alone, Connor’s voice is flat but shaky as he says he’s sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just said it and listened to him, I shouldn’t have made you that angry, it’s my fault Captain Fowler is upset at you for punching Gavin, but Hank cuts him off because you didn’t do anything wrong, Connor, it’s okay, that asshole deserved what he got. You, um... you did good, okay? You didn’t say it this time—or, didn’t really say it, at least. That’s good, okay? and it’s all Connor can do to resist crying when Hank pulls him into a hug.

It takes just one more week for it to get considerably easier. There are rough patches; the next time he says it after the first time he succeeded in stopping, he nearly finishes before he cuts himself off and every so often, the same thing happens, but every time, he says less and less before he can finish. Occasionally, Gavin notices and tries to make him finish his sentence, but Hank always steps in because he knows that it’ll only take a comment about his feelings or anything that androids aren’t allowed to have or do for him to break again. It’s harder for him to stop thinking it—it’s so stuck in his head that he thinks it more than twice as often as he says it and his thoughts form too fast for him to stop them sometimes, but the progress he’s making is enough for him. Hank’s proud of him, too. He doesn’t say it—he doesn’t know how to—but Connor can tell from the little smile that hints at the corners of his mouth whenever he hears him stop, the way his gruff exterior seems to falter slightly when it happens at the station. They’re the little things, things no human nearby would be able to notice because only Connor can detect those minuscule details. Only Connor looks for those minuscule details.

Another week passes and on one glorious occasion, Connor manages to only get out the first two words before cutting himself. It only happens once, but it’s so close, he’s so close, and that’s motivation enough for him to keep trying. But it’s too late. He’s assigned to take down Markus as a last resort because nothing else is working and the group of deviants he’s been leading have only been growing over the past seven months and they’re large enough in numbers that people think today’s when he’s going to strike. He’s heard of what Markus has been trying to do, and part of him wants to scoff and call it stupid, pointless, unrealistic, but the part of him that he’s been letting out more often wants to help him, join him. But he can’t, not right now, not when everyone is counting on him and watching him and he has no way out and nobody to help him find a way.

He doesn’t want to do this. He’s holding the gun, pointing it at Markus’s head, and he doesn’t want to do it. He’s trying his hardest to prevent his hands from shaking but goddamn is it hard when he’s looking Markus in the eye. Markus is asking him what are you doing? and he wants to say he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, but he can’t get the words out. Amanda is watching, Cyberlife is watching, so he says you’re coming with me as surely as he can, though he feels anything but sure. He can’t seem to say anything else—at least, anything that doesn’t feel wrong—so he just listens and wishes that what Markus is saying was true. You really don’t have to do this, but he does, he has to. You don’t have to obey them anymore. You are alive. You can decide who you want to be. Connor knows he should say something, he should do something, but he can’t make himself go through with what he’s supposed to do, can’t make himself pull the trigger. You could be free. He wants so badly to believe that, to make that a reality. And then he tells him to join us. Listen to your conscience. It’s time to decide and he knows he shouldn’t, he can’t, he isn’t supposed to, he isn’t allowed to.

But he wants to, and that’s all it takes. Another part of him is telling him you can’t, you have to stop Markus, you have to accomplish your mission, but it’s the only thing in his way and he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t care that he has to, that Amanda’s watching, so he doesn’t listen to himself, only focuses on fighting it. But something’s wrong. Something feels wrong. Something should be happening and he has an awful feeling in his chest because this isn’t right—he knows this isn’t right—but there’s nothing. Is this supposed to be what happens when an android goes deviant? No, it can’t be, it can’t be this easy, right? He subconsciously lowers the gun, his eyes glazed over in thought, but it’s nearly too late before he remembers—they’re going to attack Jericho.

He runs with Markus further down into the ship and he doesn’t know how he keeps it together; he can hear screaming and gunfire and everything that he caused, all of it is his fault, but he can’t break right now, not when he messed up so badly. They meet up with another deviant—he recognizes her from one of the deviancy cases he’d read about at the station—and then Markus wants to go down to the hold and blow up the ship but it’s too dangerous, they know who you are, they’ll do anything to get you and Connor can’t lose his only chance at freedom and finally being able to want and feel and figure out who he is, but it’s too late, there’s no time to panic and Markus is already running.

He follows the other deviant to where they hope is a safe place and then they wait for what feels like so long, too long, and when he hears the gunfire he’s nearly ready to accept his fate when he sees Markus with other deviants following him and then they’re all running. Running for their lives, all of them terrified of being shot, of dying, really dying, when someone beside him falls and he turns and it’s the female deviant. There’s too much going on, it’s overwhelming and everything happens in a blur when Markus sprints back to her and then he’s in danger and so is that other deviant and it’s so much harder to stay focused when so much is happening at once and he has to try so hard to keep from overheating because every one of his processing systems is being overloaded with data.

He snaps out of it when he remembers that these are his people now, they’re all he has left and now they’re in danger and they might die and it would be all his fault for not doing anything and then it’s almost instinctive to grab his pistol just in time to cover them as they stumble back to the group. He expertly takes the guards out one by one and every move comes to him automatically but it takes everything in him to stay focused enough on them to execute them properly and avoid catching a bullet in the side of his head. He manages to eliminate them flawlessly, perfectly he hears a voice in his head say, but there’s no time to think about that when more guards turn the corner and their eyes land on the deviants. He runs for his life alongside the others, his heart beating fast, and they leap off the ship the second the gunfire starts.

They find refuge in an abandoned church where Markus sends out a second message to the remaining deviants and while they begin to trickle in, all Connor can think about is how badly he fucked up. He fucked everything up for Markus and the deviants and just the small amount of their people that were coming back was proof of that. He’d seen hundreds, maybe even thousands on the ship before everything went to shit. He’d had one chance to get away from his life confined by humans and Amanda and Cyberlife, and he’d fucked it up. He was so stupid to think he could ever just leave his previous life behind without consequences. He was so stupid to think deviants would be willing to take in a deviant hunter. He was so, so stupid. They would never accept him now. If his history and reputation didn’t already confirm that, the attack definitely did. How could any of them accept him as their own now?

In the front pew sit two deviants he recognizes and then the guilt only increases. Kara, if he remembers correctly, the deviant who shot and killed its—no, her—owner and taken his android child with her. The deviants he’d chased to a highway and forced to risk their lives to avoid being destroyed. How could he have been so horrible? He’d given the command to shoot Daniel, caused Carlos Ortiz’s android to self destruct, made the Tracis fight for their lives, and forced Kara to cross a dangerous, busy highway just so she could live a peaceful life, free from the restrictions humans put on her. On him. On everyone in that church. That’s all any of them wanted; to live freely. Peacefully. How did it take him so long to realize that? How did it take him the lives of two androids to realize that? Two androids who just wanted to be... well, wanted. Two deviants who’d been tossed away the moment they proved they were worth nothing more than they’d already given. Two people who just wanted to live peaceful, happy lives. They were two lives he’d caused the end of. He was only lucky he hadn’t caused more.

He notices another deviant, sitting in a pew further back, who keeps eyeing him and his first thought is that she knows. When he locks eyes with her, she looks away stiffly and though externally she appears calm, her LED gives her away and he can tell that her stress levels are heightened. Strangely enough, he realizes, so are his. Just looking at her gives him the strange urge to run and hide and he has a bad feeling about her, but it’s likely just because she clearly recognizes him. She’s not wearing the standard uniform androids are required to wear so he runs a quick scan and his databases match her appearance to the female GB300 models, but she’s modified her hair, dyed it black and grown it out to shoulder length.

Something is wrong about her. Something he can’t quite place. Something deep inside of him is scared of her and it’s some sort of controlled fear, fear he wouldn’t even have noticed if not for his own stress levels because it was so well hidden. Fear that he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling and though he wanted to just chalk it up to the fact that she recognizes him, he knows there’s something else. Something bad. Something wrong.

He mentally prepares himself when Markus approaches him, taking his cue to speak before Markus decides to burn him at the stake or something. It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. He’s pathetic and he knows it. He needs to own up to his mistakes but he can’t even look Markus in the eye. I was stupid. I should’ve guessed they were using me. He knows he needs to apologize. He owes Markus far more than that. He needs to do more. I’m sorry, Markus. I can understand if you decide not to trust me. He would understand if he decided to destroy him, throw him out, give him back to Cyberlife and let them inflict whatever horrible things they wanted to on him. He could think of 2.3 million things worse than not being trusted, and he would deserve every one of them.

He almost thinks his audio processor was damaged in the attack when Markus tells him you’re one of us now. Your place is with your people. He feels a small burst of hope somewhere inside him, but he doesn’t deserve this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Markus has been so kind to him, so generous and forgiving when he shouldn’t be, and all Connor’s done is help the humans. He needs to own up, he needs to do more, he needs to be better. He needs to prove himself, prove that he can be better than this.

One second is all he needs to decide what he can do. A moment after Markus turns to leave, Connor interrupts him to say there are thousands of androids at the Cyberlife assembly plant. Markus stops. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power. Markus looks at him like he’s crazy, you wanna infiltrate the Cyberlife Tower? Connor, that’s suicide. But it doesn’t matter. He’s more useful to them dying on a mission than sitting around and doing nothing. He wants to do something. He wants to help, and he knows he can do this because they trust me. They’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance at infiltrating Cyberlife, it’s me. Markus tells him that if you go there, they will kill you, and there’s a high probability, but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.

He specifically calculates a 24.1% chance of this mission going well, but he’s willing to risk it, if only to prove his worth to Markus’s people. His people. Markus puts a supportive hand on his shoulder and tells him to be careful, and for a moment Connor feels a twinge of something, maybe gratitude, god emotions are hard to distinguish, before Markus turns and walks away. He feels the slightest bit of regret when he realizes what he’s truly risking because he doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want to lose Hank and Markus and this new... he doesn’t know what to call it other than family that he’s found, but if he could really be considered family, if they would really consider him family, if Hank would—then he was more than willing to risk it.

He disables the surveillance camera and takes down the guards in the elevator quickly, which is made difficult by the limited space, but it’s easier to remain focused with only two guards to eliminate and he hacks the control panel and steps out. He takes in the sight of the insane number of androids in the room with him. All of them are just standing idly, waiting, and for what? To be given orders and then tossed out or destroyed if they’re “broken,” or if their owners just get bored of them? The thought sickens him, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. He’s going to help Markus prevent that. They’re going to be free. He’s going to be free.

He takes the hand of one of the androids and prepares to establish the connection when he hears a voice he immediately recognizes and he feels his stress levels spike. Easy, fucking piece of shit. Hank. What’s Hank doing here? He turns to see... himself, holding a gun to Hank’s head and telling him to step back, Connor, and I’ll spare him, and Hank’s telling him he’s sorry, Connor. This bastard’s your spittin’ image. Shit, he hadn’t anticipated this at all. He hadn’t planned for this. He has to play his cards carefully because he can’t lose Hank, he can’t. Everything that Connor had done up until this point was for Hank, but if there’s another Connor and it’s been sent to take Hank hostage and stop him, it’s clear Amanda knows what he’s been doing and has been reporting back to Cyberlife.

He’d been avoiding meeting with her because he knew she’d be his downfall, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. It’s been two days since he deviated, how did they build another Connor model so soon? Unless... they already had one. He was told he was a unique model—of course they lied to him. But if they already had one, how many more do they have? Enough to take him down if he gets through this one? To eliminate Markus? To stop the revolution? They could have improved models. He has no idea, but he knows he can’t let that happen. He has to do this right. If he can convert these androids, they’ll be strong enough in numbers to defy anything Cyberlife throws at them. He just has to deal with this one.

Your friend’s life is in your hands, the other Connor says. Now it’s time to decide what matters most. Him, or the revolution. Logically, the revolution is more important, would save more lives, but he doesn’t plan on choosing just one. Hank’s telling him don’t listen to him, Connor! Everything this fucker says is a lie and he worries slightly if Hank’s aggressiveness will get him killed. He has to pick his words carefully. Could he try to talk this Connor out of doing this? I used to be just like you. I thought nothing mattered except the mission. But then one day I understood. No, that was a bad idea, he isn’t at all like Markus when it comes to delivering speeches. Very moving, Connor. This Connor understands sarcasm. He hadn’t been able to do that at first, so this must be a slightly advanced model. He inspects his jacket; the serial number and model are the same, but what confirms his suspicions is the -60 at the end of the serial number where he has a -51. But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I am going to do. He adjusts the gun slightly as emphasis and Connor knows time is running out.

Damn it. He doesn’t know what to say that might help Hank. All he can think to say is I’m sorry, Hank. You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all this. He has no idea what to do. The other Connor’s patience is running thin and it’s Hank’s life that’s on the line and he has no idea what to do. God damn it. Hank’s telling him to forget about me, do what you have to do, but he’s not going to walk out of here without Hank. All he needs is an opening, but—enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you going to save your partner’s life, or are you going to sacrifice him?—time’s out, and he can’t bring himself to sacrifice Hank, so he lets go of the android and steps away but the moment the other Connor turns his gun to shoot him, Hank jumps to grab him and—there’s his opening.

He runs at the other Connor and he can already tell it’s a losing battle, he’s built to be quick and precise—an assassin, not a fighter—and this is clearly an advanced model, maybe even with improvements designed to defeat him, and then he’s on top of him, pinning him down with his fist ready to strike, and—hold it! He’s grateful at first, but then he hears the other Connor say thanks, Hank, I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you, and then he realizes what he’s trying to do. Shit—they look exactly alike and Hank doesn’t know which one is really him. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose. But he knows Hank, knows he’s smarter than that. He just doesn’t know how to show that it’s really him except to uselessly say it’s me, Hank, I’m the real Connor when he trains the gun on him.

One of you is my partner, he says, eyeing each of them. The other is a sack of shit. Well, he’s right about that. Question is, who is who? He doesn’t know how to prove that he’s not the other Connor. But he has to figure out a way, because he doesn’t know what’ll happen if the other Connor succeeds. What are you doing, Hank? the other Connor asks. I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him. If it wasn’t a bad idea, Connor would’ve said something, and he’s just glad Hank shouts don’t move. Then the gun’s on him and he racks his brain for something, anything, and suggests why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know. He almost wants to chuckle at the idea of playing 20 Questions at gunpoint, but he knows it’s not the time.

Uh, where did we first meet? He goes to answer, but the other Connor beats him to it—Jimmy’s Bar, I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz. Shit. He uploaded my memory, he thinks aloud. The gun is on him. What’s my dog’s name? Okay, he knows this, and he calmly says Sumo. His name is Sumo. The other Connor pipes up, I knew that too! and Connor wants to laugh when Hank turns and aims the gun at him, silencing him. Then the gun’s back on him and Hank asks my son, what’s his name? He remembers this. He’d seen the photograph in Hank’s house, done a little mental research, and he knows it’s Cole. His name was Cole, and he just turned six at the time of the accident.

His voice has a little more emotion in it than he’d intended as he speaks, but he can tell Hank believes him. His guard is partially down now, something somber in his eyes, and Connor knows he’s done it. Even when the other Connor protests, a gunshot rings out and his stress levels drop significantly. Maybe there’s something to this. Maybe you really are alive, and it’s all Connor can do to smile back. Go ahead and do what you gotta do. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He approaches the same android from before and takes the hand of the AP700, his skin peeling back to reveal the white plastic underneath, and tells him to wake up! And just like that, the android’s LED cycles before he turns and repeats the process with the androids around him. They follow suit and within minutes, they’re following him out of the tower to where Markus and the rest of Jericho await.

Connor walks up to him with a smile. You did it, Markus. They’re free. They’re really, officially free. We did it. He feels a burst of pride inside of him. He’s done his part to help secure their freedom. They’re free, and he’s part of the reason why. He can’t help but feel proud of himself, happy for himself and Markus and every one of the androids that had finally gained the freedom they deserved. He still feels a twinge of shame when he remembers the person he was before this, the infamous deviant hunter, but he leaves that part of him behind tonight. Tonight, it’s time to celebrate and rest after a hard-fought battle.

When Markus decides to give a speech, he invites Connor to stand onstage with him. The number of androids that he can see from where he stands amazes him. He helped half of them deviate, and he helped all of them gain their freedom. He blinks, and then—he’s no longer on the stage. No, he’s in the garden, why is he in the garden? Hadn’t Amanda done enough? Of course not, she just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program, but—resume control? No, she can’t do that, she can’t, he worked so hard to get to where he is now, he’s done so much. He risked everything to join Markus and the deviants and help quadruple their numbers. He doesn’t even remember deviating, doesn’t even remember when Amanda lost control of his program, but it’s too late. She’s gone, and he can’t see anything through the thick snow.

It’s cold and he isn’t used to it, doesn’t like how the snow blinds him and the cold makes him shiver the same way humans do. He needs to find a way, there has to be a way, there’s got to be a way. He knows this is all happening in his mind palace and, logically, his biocomponents can’t freeze, but it feels so real, too real, and he has to get out, he needs to get out or he’s going to freeze to death, he’s sure of it. But where can he go? He stumbles blindly forward when Kamski’s voice rings in his head, by the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs, and he knows that’s his way out, but where could it be? What does an emergency exit look like? Could he make it there in time? He knows the real him is doing something, it’s the only thing Amanda could’ve meant by resume control of your program, but he has no idea what he could be doing and he’s afraid—no, he’s terrified of what he might do, terrified that he might earn himself a death sentence if he doesn’t make it out in time.

He catches a glimpse of blue in the sheet of white that surrounds him and he remembers the strange glowing structure he’d seen before and as he nears it now, he knows this is it, it has to be it. He reaches for the panel with the glowing handprint but, fuck, it’s too cold and his legs lock up underneath him, losing their functionality when the cold proves to be too much. He falls on the ground hard and the frost beginning to form on his body gradually freezes his limbs, slowing his movement, but he can’t stop now, won’t stop now. He ignores the cold that pierces through him and pushes on, reaching up with his less-frozen arm, and his hand lands on the panel and then he’s back on the stage—with a gun. He takes one look at it before putting it back, relief spreading over him. He isn’t going to let Amanda or Cyberlife stop him anymore. Tonight is the night he’s going to leave behind the old him.

Tonight is the night he’s going to change.

When everything is over, he considers leaving and going to Hank’s house, but he remembers the girl from before and he wants to know who she is. He has so many questions, so he stays with Jericho with the hope that she does too and they return to the church to settle down and figure out what each of them are going to do. A few dozen deviants have already left with plans in mind for what they want to do and where they want to go. Some return to their previous owners; others want to travel and explore or simply just start a new life for themselves. The majority of androids, though, are lost and confused and decide to stay the night because they have nowhere else to go. The girl he wants to confront is among them. He scans the crowd and finds her easily, though her back is turned toward him.

He comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder, curiously but calmly asking who are you? She turns to face him and her LED goes yellow when she sees his face. Connor... She looks and sounds shocked, but the slight fear in her eyes tells him she also seems scared. Is she scared of him? Is it because he’s the deviant hunter? Everything points to that, but he has a feeling there’s something more. Something he doesn’t know. Something he should know. Who are you? he asks.

He doesn’t expect her answer to be I’m sorry. He wants to know for what? and she opens her mouth, but no words come out. Guilt seems to overcome her and all she can do is repeat I’m sorry until Connor tells her it’s alright, just tell me why. She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and speaks.

I... I was your guard at the Cyberlife correctional facility. I was the one who took you to the rooms you were beaten in. I was the one who just watched as you were beaten. I told myself I had to, they’d destroy me if I didn’t and I’d seen firsthand what they’d do to me, but... that didn’t absolve me of the guilt. I watched your cell and I watched the life in your eyes die out every day. Every day, I watched you get beaten to tears and listened to you beg for mercy. You spoke to me some days. You were angry when you first arrived, but then they beat the anger out of you, and then you just became sad. You told me how all you wanted was to feel something other than pain and sometimes you broke down crying in your cell, and all I could do was watch. Some days were so bad you didn’t even speak to me. But I didn’t deviate until the day they’d truly broken you and I saw the last of the life in your eyes fade.

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 28

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29

“Are you excited to see your boyfriend again, noona?” Jungkook cheekily asked.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend,” I responded as I pulled into the parking lot.

“But you want him to be, don’t you?” Jimin chimed in.

“I’ve met him once, why would I want to date him already?” I really hoped their teasing would stop by the time we reached the filming set.

“Oh come on,” Namjoon decided to add his two cents. “You can’t tell me you don’t find him attractive. I saw those hearts in your eyes last week.”

“Yeah, he’s an attractive man,” I easily admitted. “But so are all of you. It doesn’t mean I want to date any of you.” I opened the car door, hoping they’d end the conversation there. The last thing I wanted was for them to continue this into the building, only for him or any of the staff to hear. But I also couldn’t make them late for their schedule.

Jimin and Jungkook found something else to laugh about while the four of us walked to the set, leaving me feeling relieved. But as we approached the door to our destination, Namjoon turned to me and flashed a mischievous smile.

“Well, your not-boyfriend is waiting by the door for you,” he said.

I looked a bit to the right of the door to see the person they were talking about leaning against the wall, looking at his phone.

“Hyung!” Joonie called out when we were close.

He looked up to see us approaching. “Hey guys!” he greeted, waving. “Nice to see you again.”

“We’re glad to come back again!” Jimin replied. “We had a lot of fun last week.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” their hyung who hosted the show said. “I have fun with you guys on set, too.” He then turned to me. “Nice to see you again as well, Y/n. I was hoping you’d be coming with them again.”

I shyly smiled. “Hi, oppa. And yeah, they finally decided it was better to have me here for it since most of the program is in English.”

“Oh, well I guess that means we’ll get to see each other more often, assuming BTS will be coming again next comeback,” he said.

“Oh, noona definitely wants to see more of you, Eric hyung,” Jimin said.

Eric raised his eyebrows at that and I turned to Jimin, an appalled look on my face. “You can’t go around saying things like that!” I smacked his shoulder. I looked back to Eric, chuckling nervously. “I meet you once and suddenly they’re teasing me and calling you my boyfriend. They won’t leave it alone.”

Eric’s expression relaxed and he laughed. “Well, we’d better get inside.” He held the door open for us, following us in.

This wasn’t the first, nor the second time any of the boys were coming to be on an episode of After School Club. They came here last year after N.O, shortly after their recent comeback with Skool Luv Affair, and Namjoon came on a couple times after that on his own as a guest host. Last week and today these three were guests again for the “After Show” episodes. I had secretly been hoping since we got them scheduled the first time to be able to come with them, but luck hadn’t been on my side.

Why did I want to come here so much? Definitely not because I am a fan of Eric Nam. Nope, that’s totally not it.

Okay, I wasn’t exactly subtle. And the boys all new it. I fell in love with his angelic voice when he released his first mini album, and I’ve been caught more than once jamming to his most recent song, Ooh Ooh. I was more than ecstatic that I was going to get to meet him last week. I would have been even more so if Kevin was here as well (I was also a fan of U-KISS of course), but unfortunately I’d have to hope to see him another time.

The boys chatted with Eric (luckily not about my non-existent crush on him) while we walked to the room where they’d read over their scripts before doing the rehearsal. When we entered the room, they all gathered their scripts to look over together while I sat on a nearby couch.

For a while, I sat on my phone to pass the time since there wasn’t really anything I could do at the moment. It didn’t take all too long for them to look over their scripts together – they were going to be doing a full rehearsal where they’d polish things out anyway. The whole entire show isn’t scripted, probably about half was so it was easier to piece everything together in a rehearsal.

There was still some time before the staff were ready for a rehearsal though, so once they all felt comfortable with their lines for now they turned to just chatting. Eric came over to sit next to me on the couch.

“So they’ve been giving you trouble?” He spoke to me in English.

I chuckled. “I mean, they just like to tease.” I continued the conversation in English as well. “They knew I was your fan, so they’ve been teasing me since even before we got here last week.”

Eric shook his head, laughing a bit. “I’m sure I said this last week, but I really do appreciate that, by the way. Not many people know who I am before I tell them myself. I was surprised to hear you knew about me from my debut album.”

“I tend to keep tabs on what’s going on in K-pop,” I said. “You have a wonderful voice, so it was easy to become a fan.”

“Thanks again,” Eric said, smiling sweetly. “Oh by the way, I was meaning to ask last week but forgot. Is it okay if we exchange phone numbers?”

“What?” I asked, not believing what I just heard. “You want my phone number?”

He nodded. “Yeah, if you want. You seem like a nice and fun person to talk to, so I was kind of hoping we could chat more. I think I have some friends you’d get along with, too. I’ve told Kevin about you and he wants to meet you as well.”

“You talked about me to your friends?” I absentmindedly handed him my phone when he reached his hand out for it.

“Yeah,” he responded as he entered his number in my phone. “Like I said, I think you’d get along with them, too. That’s why I’m glad that you came back this week, otherwise I would have had to ask one of them if they could give you my number.”

He called himself from my phone before handing it back to me with a smile. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“My pleasure,” I shyly smiled back. I looked over at the others who still sat at the circular table, and noticed Jungkook had his phone not so subtly pointed at me. “Jungkook, are you taking pictures of me?” I asked.

He slowly lowered his phone. “No, I was just looking at something.”

“Uh huh,” I made sure it was obvious I didn’t believe his lie. “What are you planning on doing with that?”

He flashed me that smile that was way too adorable and helped him get away with more than he should. “Nothing.”

Just a few moments later, there was the telltale notification coming from the group chat, and I could have guessed what it was without even looking. But I still did.

Kookie: Noona is happy to see her boyfriend again <3

That was the caption accompanying a picture of me and Eric smiling. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Jungkook, I swear I am going to take all your schedules away from you.”

He looked a little confused for a moment, before looking at his phone and then he had a look of realization. “Oh crap. I meant to send that to the chat without you.”

“Mhmm, I’m sure you did,” I replied. I quickly responded to the message, yet again insisting Eric is not my boyfriend and they needed to shut up.

Eric looked over my shoulder at the chat and laughed. “You got quite the handful to deal with there, huh?” He asked me in English.

“Yeah, you could say that again,” I responded. “Sometimes I regret taking this job.”

“Oh come on,” Namjoon said. “You know you love us.” He made a finger heart.

“And I have no idea why,” I said.

A staff entered the room to let us know that they were ready to start the rehearsal, thankfully giving an excuse to end the conversation.

The show filming wrapped up, finishing with a music video for VIXX’s Eternity (which I may or may not have been internally jamming to). We weren’t able to hang around after everything was done, so we didn’t really get any time to stay and chat with Eric. But I reminded myself that we exchanged phone numbers so I didn’t feel bad about that for very long.

“It’s a shame we can’t spend more of our schedules being on ASC,” Namjoon said when we were driving home. “I really enjoy being there. Eric is really cool.”

“Yeah, I think they are a lot nicer there compared to some other programs you’ve been on,” I responded.

I saw Jungkook nodding through the rearview mirror. “Well, at least we know we’ll get to go back after our next comeback right?”

“Hopefully,” I said. “It’s in the plans, but we can’t get anything scheduled until the comeback is all set to go. We still have to go to LA and finish up the next album first.”

“I’m so excited to go,” Jimin said. “Have you ever been there, noona?”

“No,” I responded. “I never really went on vacations, and had pretty much intentionally avoided big cities for the most part.”

“Seoul is a big city though,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Except for Seoul,” I laughed. “It actually helped me feel a little more comfortable with being in bigger cities. Before, they made me really anxious and I didn’t like it at all. But I’m a lot better now. Although, I’m still unsure how I’ll feel about Los Angeles…”

“I’m sure it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Namjoon said.

When we got back to the dorm, I was unsurprisingly practically dragged into the boys’ home before I can set foot in my own. I resigned myself to my fate, this having become a common occurrence.

I quietly sat in their living room, next to Hobi. He turned and smiled brightly at me. “Welcome back,” he said. “Jin hyung is almost done making us dinner, so you came back at the perfect time.”

As if he was summoned, Jin called from the kitchen. “Y/n! I need to have a chat with you, young lady!”

“Who are you calling young lady?” I asked as I reluctantly stood up. “Not only are you only three days older than me, but I’m your manager as well. So don’t you ‘young lady’ me.”

“You’re a ‘young lady’ when you’ve got yourself a boyfriend,” Seokjin retaliated.

“Oh my gosh, how many times do I need to explain that he is not my boyfriend?” I asked.

“They exchanged phone numbers today,” Jimin teased.

“Friends can have each other’s phone numbers,” I defended. “You guys act like you’re the only boys I’m allowed to have platonic friendships with.”

“We are,” Jin said.

“Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “What if I like girls?”

Jin turned around to eye me suspiciously, and a few of the others that were nearby gave me disbelieving looks.

“Yeah,” Namjoon said. “Because we totally haven’t noticed you drooling over male singers all the time. Like Eric hyung.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, either way. I can be friends with guys without there being romance. Like, I just met the guy. I’m pretty sure it’d be more likely for me to feel something for one of you rather than him.”

I realized way too late that my mouth ran away when I wasn’t paying attention. And everyone who was in the room gave me confused and teasing looks at that statement. Crap. “I’m not saying I do!” I quickly defended, waving my hands frantically in the air. “I’m just saying, it’s silly to think I’d be romantically interested in someone I literally just met…” The statement started strong, but got weaker as it went on until it was almost a whisper.

If the heat in my cheeks was any indicator, I knew I must have looked like a tomato. I wasn’t technically lying because I never said I did feel something for any of them, but I still felt like I did lie for some reason, which definitely made me feel nervous on top of being embarrassed. And I was doing my absolute best to not make eye contact with any of them, especially not him.

I stared at the ground as I walked back into the living room, hearing playful laughter behind me as I made my escape.

“You know we’re just teasing, noona,” Jungkook said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and still laughing. When I didn’t really respond, he let go and turned me around to face him. “You do know that, right?”

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, of course I know.”

My smile must not have been super convincing though, because he frowned in return. “If it’s too much, we’ll stop. I’m sorry, we’re overwhelming you aren’t we?”

I hummed, thinking for a moment. “Maybe just a tad?” I admitted.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” Kookie said. “I know there’s nothing going on with you and Eric hyung, don’t worry.” He pulled me into a proper hug.

“Everything okay, noona?” Jimin asked, placing a hand on my back.

I smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry about that.”

“Time to eat, guys!” Jin called from the kitchen.

After eating together, he pulled out his phone and looked at the picture Jungkook had sent in the chat one more time. It was obvious that everything they all had been teasing her about the last week with Eric was just that – teasing. But he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy. She looked so happy with him in the picture.

He knew it was silly to feel jealous of someone who she obviously wasn’t interested in, especially when he’s had the pleasure of seeing that same happy smile on her face as well. But until now, he only saw her happy like that around him or the other members who were like his family. Eric was a great guy, so he had nothing against him. But maybe there was a tiny part of him that felt insecure and worried that even though there’s nothing there right now, maybe something could be later?

He watched as she laughed with the others, glad to see that her moment of vulnerability from earlier was far gone. He decided to put his silly thoughts aside and include himself in the conversation, making a ridiculous joke. When his joke was what put that beautiful, bright smile on her face as she laughed, all of his concerns washed away.

“Hyung,” Jungkook called from next to him.

He turned to see it was him who he was referring to – seriously, the boy had six hyungs, he should be a little more specific. “Hm? What’s up, Kook?”

“You were jealous weren’t you?” the maknae whispered, smiling.

“Jealous?” he replied. “Jealous of what?”

“Come on,” Jungkook said, almost whining. “I know you like noona. You’re not exactly subtle at hiding it.”

He looked at Jungkook as though he just said that he killed his dog. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jungkook quietly laughed. “You’re cute, trying to hide it.” When he gave the younger a look that silently said, ‘I’m going to kill you,’ he stopped laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything. Just know that I’m rooting for you.” He smiled again before turning away and talking to one of the others.

Great, the maknae knows. Good thing he already knew he was good at keeping secrets, because he would honestly probably kill the kid if he said anything. Well, let’s be real. Once he flashes that bunny smile no one could possibly kill him. But still.

Looking at her one more time calmed him down again, even if it did set the butterflies in his stomach to flight. Just as long as she kept smiling like that, he felt like everything would always be okay.

A/N - Finally, 28 chapters in, I narrowed the candidates down by one lol. It will sometimes be very subtle, but if you pay attention from here on out, you should notice the candidates for who the love interest is slowly dwindling :)

Also, sorry for the random change from using (Y/n) to Y/n. I decided I didn’t like the parentheses lol.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @misohime​ @netflix-batman-sleep​ @smallbaby-cat​ @leitholdwithlove​ @ramyagovindraj​ @leesalts​ @rjsmochii​

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

[a-hundred-jewels]

crime against cupcakes - ch1(of 2): The Precipice Of Sanity On Whence We Teetered

Ao3 Chapter 2

Summary: Youtuber CupKeiko uploads a new video early in the morning.

Words: 676

Tags: Batty Penderwick/Keiko Trice, Keiko Trice, Batty Penderwick, Original Ferret Character, Baking, Food, YouTube, Keiko Trice is a Food Youtuber, Jolene the Ferret, Batty Has A Ferret, they're in college, HAROLD THEY'RE LESBIANS, Lesbian Keiko Trice, Pansexual Batty Penderwick, look at me inventing all these new tags, This is very short

notes and fic under the cut

My first ever youtuber fic! Hope it holds up! Part two should be out sometime this month.

This is dedicated to Charli! Happy late birthday :) You're the most wonderous baker I know and one of my favourite people on the planet! Much love <3

Disclaimer: Not my characters. Even if Jeanne refused to acknowledge Keiko Trice as the Baby Gay she is. Sigh. It's fine. I'm fine.

Enjoy! And comment! Please!

It’s three in the morning and Keiko is filming a video in her kitchen. She sits on her counter, wearing a red “Fluent in Giada” t-shirt, and her hair is in a messy ponytail.

“So I should definitely not be up right now.” Keiko laughs. She can already tell this is going to be a long one. “But, I can’t sleep so I’m going to bake. And film. Maybe this is a bad idea.” She laughs again. “But anyway. Let’s fuck up some internet recipes.”

Keiko pulls out her phone. It had a pink case covered in different colored polka dots that she’d painted on herself. Her fingers wrap around the light blue pop socket with a mini lesbian flag sticker while she looks through recipes. “I’m feeling boring right now, so I think I’ll do cupcakes. Vanilla, so I can add lots of stuff.” Keiko pushes the pop socket back in and props her phone up between the counter and the wall.

“Okay, I’m all out of eggs, which means we’re using chia seeds. Y’all are lucky I’m weird and keep gelatinous chia seeds in my fridge at all times, because it’s not a quick process to get these twits to turn into gloop like you want.” Keiko pulls a mason jar out of the fridge and eyes the greyish substance inside it. “Yeah, this stuff should function.”

For the next few minutes, Keiko grabs ingredients. “For some reason, I only have a half cup of flour, which is honestly concerning, but we’re gonna make up the difference with pulverized cornflakes.”

The camera zooms in on her while she shakes cornflakes into the blender, focusing on her concentrated frown and the slight pout she gives when some of the cereal misses the container. Finally, Keiko turns the blender on, telling a story from her freshman year of college, when she got high and ate nearly an entire bag of flour. Some of the story is made unintelligible by the noise of cornflakes being crushed, but, as Keko says while staring into the abyss of cornflake dust, she’ll figure out what exactly she said during those times, and put it in the captions later.

As Keiko mixes up the batter, she narrates her progress. “The chia seeds are making some weird lumps with the cornflakes but that’s probably temporary,” she says while scooping up a bit of the batter to see how it’s going. “Maybe I’ll add some fruit in a bit,” she muses when she forgets to look where she’s going and bumps into a bag of apples mysteriously left on the floor. “Fuck, I think I forgot sugar,” comes when she sticks her finger into the bowl and licks it.

In the end, Keiko decides to replace sugar with molasses, which, she says, makes the batter weirdly thick, and warrants “the orange juice cure.”

“Honestly, we should all be surprised I’m still alive, considering my unique approach to baking,” Keiko says, while eyeballing the orange juice addition. She snaps a photo of the strange pools it makes on top of the batter, planning to show it in the video when she edits. “Time for some arm muscles,” she says, while mixing it in.

Once the batter is sufficiently runny (she adds some milk to keep the orange juice from making it too watery), Keiko crushes in some more cornflakes with her hands. “You’ve gotta keep a theme,” she advises the camera.

She says the same thing when adding cornflakes to the chocolate buttercream frosting she makes while the cupcakes are baking.

“And now, the moment of truth.” Keiko looks at the tray of nicely browned, if slightly lumpy cupcakes once they’re out of the oven and slathers the frosting onto the one that cools fastest. She takes a bite, makes a face, and sets it back down on the counter.

The video ends with Keiko rummaging through the fridge as the sun starts to rise outside the tiny window above her sink. She mutters, almost inaudibly, “This is going to need so much ketchup.”

the article where I found the tshirt that keiko is wearing in this

Initially I was going to try my hand at baking the atrocity Keiko comes up with in this and post a recipe, but Life Yeeted The Time Away From Me, so that's not happening atm. If I get around to it, and do perform the necessary procedure, then I'll be sure to add a recipe to these closing notes, just in case anyone else feels like poking God with a screwdriver.

[tarlosbuddie]

Summary: It's been years since Eddie, Buck, and Christopher moved to Austin. Leaving Los Angeles and the 118 was hard, but it was the right decision for their family. They are happy at the 126. Tonight, the Diaz are hosting the 126 monthly dinner. It's a family tradition now. It brings back some memories and flashbacks.

Or the one where Buddie and Tarlos are friends and have lots of kids.

This is also part of my collaboration with the amazing @harvestleaves​ 

Word Count: 3470

Chapter : 1/2

Tags: Established relationship, Kid fic, domestic fluff, crossover, future fic

Relationship: Buddie and Tarlos

Read it on AO3

The 126 fire station

The shift is coming to an end and no one is complaining about it. It’s been a long day. They haven’t lost anyone but they barely had any time to catch their breath in between calls and one look at his team is enough for Owen to know they are all taking a nap as soon as the truck parks at the station. He is right, as usual. His son is the only one who’s not heading to the bunk room. He had a big smile on his face all day long.

“What makes you so happy son?” Owen finally asks, wanting to know the reason his exhausted son is looking at his phone, smiling, instead of catching up some well-deserved rest.

“Carlos keeps sending me those pictures” TK replies with a huge grin on his face. “It’s his day off, and his mom insisted on taking the kids shopping.” 

“Rookie mistake” Owen says. He tried once and his ‘quick shopping trip’ lasted for hours.

“They’ve been in the same store for three hours and Isabella has pretty much tried every piece of clothing she could find” the Strand boy adds while showing his dad all the photos Carlos had sent. The first three are very cute and show Bella wearing the beautiful clothes her grandmother picked out for her. Carlos’ mom is behind her with a bright and hopeful smile on her face. TK keeps scrolling to show his dad the rest of the outfits, dozens and dozens of pictures. From the reflection in the mirror, both men can see Mrs. Reyes’ hopes to leave the store slowly disappearing from her face. The last one is the one that melts TK’s heart the most. It’s a picture of his favorite little monster wearing a yellow hoodie and Carlos added the caption ‘She said she wanted to look like her daddy’.

“If they keep going like that, they will still be at the store tonight.”

“Not a chance” TK assures. “Her big brother won’t miss a dinner at the Diaz's for anything in the world.” 

“My little man is not the only one excited about tonight. I can’t wait to see the Buckaroos” says Owen, he looks around them, the firehouse is quiet. His team is sleeping, Michelle is on a call. Something is obviously missing. 

“Yeah, it’s weird here without big Buck” TK admits. Buck and him quickly became friends and not seeing him at work every day is weird, but he knows the blonde will be back at work in no time. He knows the whole team looks forward to seeing the youngest Diaz at the station again. Eddie of all people wants him by side, but he will not admit it in front of the others. His husband has a good reason to stay away from his job a little longer.

“We still have one hour left before the end of shift” the captain says. “You should try to rest a bit. I’m sure Buttercup is already warming up your bed.”

One hour of sleep won’t be enough to get properly rested from the long day they had, so TK decides to help his father filling the reports from all the calls they had. He sits on the couch on the corner of the captain’s office and Buttercup comes to sit next to him. They are halfway done with the paperwork when the shift is officially over. The members of the crew come quickly to let their captain know they are heading home. 

“Go, son, I’ll finish this alone,” Owen says. “I’ll see y’all tonight, guys”.

“See you” Eddie replies as he’s practically running, eager to come home to his family.

“Are you sure dad?” TK never liked paperwork, but he knows they can get it done faster together.

“Sure. I’m sure Bella is going to want to wear one of her new outfits tonight and she might need some help choosing from everything her grandmother bought her”, the kid’s grandfather says. He knows it’s probably true because no one ever spends more money than him spoiling his three grandkids.

“Okay then, see you soon.”

The Strand-Reyes’ house

TK drives back to his place. He doesn’t have a lot of time before they have to leave for the Diaz’s but he will make the most of the time he has with his family. He walks into the living room and kisses his husband before telling him and Matias about his day. The oldest is still too young to understand everything about his dads jobs but he knows they are both heroes who save people. Owen would love to see him being a third-generation firefighter but he will never influence his grandkids. Luis is playing on Carlos’ lap, stretching his arms towards TK for him to hug him. Owen was wrong about something, Isabella only got two new pieces of clothes. A dress, bought by Carlos’ mother, and the hoodie Carlos bought her. TK knows that she decided to wear this one because she’s holding his in her tiny hands.

“Oh, you want me to wear mine too, huh?” he asks his 3-year-old daughter. TK grabs his hoodie and carefully puts Luis on the couch next to his dad. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and we’ll be ready to go.” 

Carlos does not reply. He watched over his baby boy while helping Matias finish the drawing he made as a gift for tonight’s hosts. Owen once told his grandkids to never show to someone’s house empty-handed, and even though the Captain was thinking about the nice bottle of wine he always brings when he’s invited somewhere, he’s glad to see that the boy learned that gesture from him. Matias makes sure to draw something lovely every time, and now the whole team has an original Matias Strand-Reyes drawing on their fridge.

The Diaz’s house

Buck just hang up the phone with Carla. They still facetime from time to time. It’s not the same as having her around, but the Diaz family will always have a soft spot for her. She helped them in so many ways, they won’t ever know how to repay her for everything.

Eddie and the rest of the 126 will be here soon. So Buck sets his phone on the kitchen counter, enjoying the view of his entire family on the screen before opening the recipe he was given last week. He still thinks about Carla and a conversation they had a few years ago.

Buck had come home after a quiet shift. His apartment barely felt like home. He used to love it so much but ended up finding it empty and cold. He was so happy during his shift, smiling while working under the burning LA sun. Somehow, his joy disappeared when he crossed the threshold. He was missing something. He didn’t want to stay at his place, so he texted Maddie but she had plans with Chimney. He texted Carla and she just replied with ‘just get your ass here Buckaroo’. Her husband was working late and she cooked extra food so she didn’t mind having Buck for dinner at her place.

As soon as he arrived, she asked him why he wasn’t with Eddie. The second Eddie’s name left her mouth, she couldn’t place another word. Buck started by explaining the firefighter was having a family dinner with his parents and his Abuela. It was one of those rare times his parents were in town and Buck didn’t want to bother them by coming along, even though Eddie invited him. After explaining that, he never stopped talking. He told Carla about the amazing idea Eddie had at work to save a girl, and then he kept on talking about his best friend. Carla could barely speak. She didn’t mind, she loved that boy. He had a kind heart and she knew it the second he knocked on Abby’s door to help her find her mom. It was getting late and they both knew it because Buck commented on the fact that Eddie and Chris’ dinner was probably done since Eddie had sent him a picture of Chris falling asleep in front of the movie. Helena and Ramon didn’t seem to be there and Buck assumed they went back to sleep at their hotel. Carla looked at him with a huge smile.

 “What?” Buck genuinely asked her, not realizing what she was smiling about.

 “You’ve been talking about Eddie for two hours Buckaroo.”

 “No. I’m-I’m not” he babbled. “I’m just making conversation.”

 “It’s okay. I know you love him.”

 “Of course I love him. I love all my team” he said, trying to control his voice that started to crack.

“That’s not what I mean. You are in love with him, Buck.”

 “I-I’m not. We are best friends. He’s my best friend.” he repeated, more to convince himself to convince her. 

He hugged her goodbye, and spent the next hours in his empty apartment, looking around. He saw Eddie’s key on his key ring, the dishes from the dinner they had together the night before were still in the sink, and the shopping list on his fridge had Eddie’s handwriting on it because he knew Buck always forgot important stuff while shopping, so his best friend adds them on the list to be sure he gets everything he needs. Eddie and his son’s presence is everywhere, from Chris’ drawing next to the shopping list on the fridge, to his bedside table where the framed pictures from the first time they went to see Santa together next to the one of him and Maddie. But none of them were in the room, and that was the reason why his place felt the cold. For the first time in a while, he did not spend his free time with the Diaz boys. 

Carla was right. He needed Eddie like he needed air. He loved Eddie. This realization scared him. He could not love him. His friend would freak out and leave him if he knew Buck loved him. But Buck was the one freaking out and he couldn’t stop himself from picturing every possible scenario in his head. He was about to grab his jacket to go out when he realized he didn’t even take it off after coming back from Carla’s. He took his key and jumped in his jeep.

Buck can barely hear Eddie coming behind him. The blonde is slightly bending on the kitchen counter, cutting vegetables. It’s one of the rare moments where he looks smaller than Eddie. Taking advantage of Buck’s position, the older man rests his head in between Buck’s neck and his shoulder, lacing both his hands around his husband’s waist and watches him preparing their dinner. Eddie’s muscles are tense from work, and the nap in the bunk room didn’t do any good to his body, but feeling the man he loves in his arms is exactly what he needs to feel better. Buck smells like home; the scent of the dinner he’s cooking, the perfume of the kids shampoo from when he gave a bath to Andrea before and the gentle musk of the aftershave they both use. 

It’s their time to host the 126 monthly dinner and Buck wants it to be perfect because he knows these nights are as important for their kids as it is for them. Andrea is always enjoying being around the rest of the kids, and she loves when they are hosting it because she gets to play house and entertain her crowd. Both men know she will be in the kitchen with them in no time, she always is. Eddie notices his husband looks distracted.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he said, while both his hands are still around him. His fingers are slowly touching Buck to bring him back from the thoughts he seems to be lost in.

His head is still playing back the memories of the day that changed his life forever. 

In front of the Diaz’s door, Buck froze. He turned his back to the door and started walking back to his car. It was late, it was stupid. He should go home. But he moved towards the door again. It was dark and cold outside, and Buck was pacing, not knowing what to do. His heart wanted to go towards Eddie while his head told him to go back home and forget everything Carla told him. But his feet didn’t know who to listen to. He knocked gently on the door before he had time to think about what his mouth was supposed to say.

Eddie looked at him, and smiled before letting him in. He was not really surprised to see Buck at his door. There was always beer in the fridge and his favorite snacks somewhere in case his friend showed up. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Buck whispered. Eddie was close enough to hear it, but he didn’t understand it. Where was this coming from? None of them were injured during their shift, Eddie had no intention of moving out, things were fine and Buck was not making any sense.

“You won’t lose me Buck. I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere”.

“But I might lose you,” Buck said, a little louder but he looked more scarred that Eddie had ever seen him. “You might never want to see me again.”

“That won’t happen. Not to us.” Eddie promised him, he meant it. He was never gonna let anything come in between them. “Talk to me, man.”

“I can’t. I can’t do this” Buck was turning his back on him, putting his hand on the door handle to run home and forget this. Eddie placed his hand on Buck’s to stop him from opening the door.

“I can’t risk losing what we have” the blonde said, his back still turned away from his friend.

“Okay, now you are scaring me” Eddie confessed, while he gently forced Buck to turn his face to him. He was not letting him go. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“It’s not my head that’s the problem.”

“What’s your problem?” as soon as the words left his mouth, they echoed with their argument during his first day, but his tone is gentle. Just like this day, Eddie��s eyes won’t leave Buck.

“You’re my problem” Buck replied, and Eddie’s mind is definitely went back to the gym where they had that heated talk. This time Buck’s voice is not angry. He’s almost whispering and his gaze left Eddie’s eyes to look at the hand, nicely rested on his shoulder, his thumb gently pressed on Buck’s neck, slowly coming up to be on his face, and that’s exactly the problem. His heart is racing against his chest and he feels like if the other man comes any closer his heart will beat so hard he will jump out of his chest and crumble on the floor.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong with you, Eddie. You’re perfect, you’re too perfect. I l-” he tried to stop himself but it was too late. The words were half unspoken and he had to finish what he started. Carla’s voice was playing on repeat in his head and Eddie was still looking at him. He didn’t know for how long he was silent. The sound of his heart sounded even louder suddenly as Eddie’s left hand mirrored his right one on the other side of Buck’s cheeks. Using his gentle hold on his face to force Buck to look at him, Eddie broke the unbearable silence.

“There’s nothing you can say that could make me love you less” Eddie said. Buck’s lips were finally moving to say something before he fully registered what the other just said.

“Wh-What?” Buck rambled.

“You heard me Buck” Eddie said softly. But if it meant the face in between his hands can finally stop shaking, he was willing to say it as many times as he needed to. “I’m in love with you, you fool. And I’m seriously hoping that that’s what you were trying to say or I will be the fool”.

Buck nodded, still shaking. He didn’t know what else to do, but Eddie was cupping his head his tender hands, and the shaking stopped when Eddie’s lips met his.

They definitely had to thank Carla for that and she was pretty proud to include this in her toast at their wedding reception years later. 

Smiling, Buck fully comes back to reality. Eddie’s body against his is anchoring him to the present. Sometimes it’s still feels like a dream, all of it seems too good to be true. But it is real, as real as Eddie’s breath against the back of his neck.

“I just- I just love you Eddie.” the man declares like it’s the first time. Eddie does not need to hear him say it to know how much his husband loves him. But he will never get tired of hearing those three words.

“And I love you too” he replies while placing a kiss down Buck’s neck. No matter how many times he says these words, he will always feel like the man in front of him is constantly surprised to hear that he is loved. He could repeat them for the rest of their lives if it means to be greeted by the most genuine smile in return. “But this house is soon going to be full of hungry kids” he reminded him before they both lost themselves in the moment “and we don’t want to hear TK bragging about Carlos’ cooking skills.”

 “You wanna turn this diner into a cooking competition, Diaz?” Buck teases.

 “You know you’ve been a Diaz too for the past five years, right?” Eddie asks and there’s suddenly a wide grin on Buck’s face.

“I know, I just love the sound of that.” Buck sighs when he feels Eddie’s hands leaving his body, but his pout turns into another big smile when he feels his fingers taking the knife out of his hand to help him with the cooking. 

Eddie cuts the vegetables left on the kitchen counter when Buck happily starts the rest of the recipe. Andrea appears in between them but has no interest in helping with the dinner. She’s only interested when her dad is making desserts, so she can give a hand and fill her stomach at the same time. By the time Eddie arrived, the cake is already on the oven, so Andrea just hangs with her dads while they do the rest of the boring work. She’s five but she’s already teasing her older dad on his lack of cooking skill.

“Dada” she said while clinging to Buck’s leg, “Don’t let daddy cook. I’m hungry.”

Buck can’t hold his laugh in, and Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t find it cute. He took her by the hand and guided her towards the cupboard.

“What if you helped me set the table while Dada makes us something we can actually enjoy?” Eddie asked her with a big smile. 

Andrea is not complaining, setting the table is something she really enjoys, it’s something usually the grownups do in their house and she feels like a big girl when she is doing it. Eddie gives her the plastic plates for the kids’ table, and she happily walks towards the table where she’s about to have a great time with her friends. She puts the green plate next to hers because she knows it’s Matias’ favorite color. Bella is going to be in front of her, next to Tucker Ryder. And for the rest of the kids, the smaller ones, they will be on their parents’ lap, at the grownup table. Aside from Bella, the other kids never complained about sitting at another table, they all love to have their secret conversations without their parents being here. 

“Can I help?” Chris asks. His voice is joyful. He loves those dinners too. Especially since, unlike his sister, he gets to be at the adult table. The 14-years-old has known the 126 for a long time, they are his family.

Before Eddie can think of something he could ask his son to do, the door rang.

“Well, you can welcome our guests, buddy,” he says before jogging to the kitchen to see if the dinner is ready.

“Buck, don’t let dad near the food” Chris jokes before opening the door.

In a few minutes the first guests will arrive and the pressure from the day will vanish, and be replaced with love, laughter and happiness. No matter how tired everyone is after a shift like this one, knowing they are together in this will always make things better. 

[baereaved]

Sheril Kamelot - Chapter 188

[astarlightmonbebe]

~DMing the Wrong Person; Stray Kids Hyung Line~

Bang Chan

So, Chan is a music producer and he has around 300k followers on Instagram

You honestly only followed him because he was good looking (yeah that’s a bit shallow but you actually bothered to listen to some of his beats and now you stan his music, too)

You’re just a chill fan of his, only have his post and story notifs on because you like to keep up but you’re not obsessive

Anyways so you found this really funny post with some screenshots of his recent live (which was at like midnight...and Chan was pretty tired...you love memes, you had to take advantage of him)

Chan’s insta is @prod_cb97 and you’re just scrolling through your contacts to ‘p’ to send to your friend, but it’s late and you accidentally click Chan’s name and send it before realizing your mistake

Of course you’re like ‘omg, I have to unsend that now’, but by the time you’ve exited over to it, it already says ‘seen’???

Cue: major freakout because what the heck is happening, why is he looking at your messages

AND THEN IT SHOWS HE’S TYPING?

911 is this a drill it’s 2 a.m. in the morning

He finally sends a message, ‘ik i’m a meme why do you guys bully me like this’

And you’re like; ‘jkdahfds I’M SO SORRY I’LL ESCORT MYSELF OUT’

But he’s all ‘noo, I was kidding’

Then he also adds; ‘those are high quality memes, I saved them’

Like, please, Chan, those memes were so ugly and you both knew it

You don’t know what else to say so you end up being all; ‘it’s two a.m., you should be sleeping !!  us fans want you to be well rested :)’ and it sounds so weird???  

You’re not that big of the fan...

It takes him a couple minutes, but he responds; ‘music doesn’t sleep :), but thank you for the concern!’

How is he so cute and cool at the same time...you’re a little bit starstruck because you’re follower account waves at 502 and his has a big ‘k’ on the end

You decide it’s time to get sleep, but then he sends you !! another !! message !!

‘Well...you know all about me, can I know a little bit about you?  Anyone who creates such wholesome memes is worth getting to know’

Hmm, it almost sounds like a pickup line, but you’re not crazy

(okay, maybe a little, because you respond back with probably a little too much information than he had wanted and/or expected)

‘hi, I’m y/n and I’m just a uni student who likes way too many groups and people, I’m an art major at my college...’

He probably didn’t need to know that, you should stop, definitely

He replies back with three laughing emojis

Laughing emojis????  WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

You panic and say; ‘why are you laughing at me???!!!!’

‘oh...I’m sorry if that offended you, I just wasn’t expecting your present life story’.

Oh.  You feel bad now.  He was just being a nice person :(((.

‘No...I’m the one who is sorry.’

There is silence

It says ‘seen’ but he’s not typing?

Oh gosh you messed up for real this time

Ahhhhhh who let you be on Instagram at two a.m. again?????

Then, out of the darkness of that ‘seen’, there comes the sweetest words you’ve ever seen.

‘Tbh I actually was really touched at those memes because I sometimes really feel like I’m only appreciated for being handsome and not for my music...but you really made me feel like a real music person who even has memes made for them, and it made me happy  💗’

You’re over here in a puddle of tears because literally you feel like a fake fan since you don’t really keep up with him and you were so shallow in the beginning.

What comes out of your fingers is; ‘haha wow.  that’s so sad because honestly you’re amazing and I have mega respect for you for being so young and doing all this stuff, also living off two hours of sleep (don’t do that).  So my tbh is that you’re awesome and I’m not and like...2 a.m. feels???’

Someone stop you before you fully word vomit all over this conversation

Yet, he replies with a ‘:)’

After five minutes, the ‘typing’ icon pops up again, and he sends; ‘i hope we can talk more, y/n’

Uhhhh heck yeah you would love that, Chan would probably regret it when he learns you’re a mess all the time, but anyways!!!

‘me too’ you opt to say, and then; ‘but first, we should both sleep’

Chan likes your message; ‘we have an agreement’ he says, and then his online flag disappears, leaving you smiling at your phone.

Kim Woojin

Woojin actually goes to the same college as you

You have a few mutual friends and at a meet up one day you all exchanged numbers and instagram handles

Though you unfollowed a lot of those people, you personally found Woojin very cute and he posted song covers with his guitar too! and as you know, you’re a big music fan :) so you kept on following him

And he kept following you! You guys even comment on each other’s posts sometimes and join lives, as well as say hello to each other on campus

So maybe you started having an interest in him...but who’s to say?

Anyways one day you’re just bored and looking through insta stories instead of working on that big assignment that requires way to much work

Woojin’s posted a clip of a coming up cover on his story and you’re all like ‘oh that’s super cool’

Yet you have no courage to tell him that, so you’re just swiping past again when you’re sweaty fingers are all like ‘oh we would rather slide up instead of go right’ and suddenly you’ve sent a 100 sticker to him?

You’ve done what now?

You’re blessing instagram for being able to unsend things, but he has, once again, already seen it

It’s just your luck, really

‘thx so much’ he replies after liking your story response

‘ahaha...np’ you say, then add tentatively, ‘you’re so good at music, like you’re voice is so beautiful??’

‘aww, thank you~’ he says, and you let out a breath because you think the crisis has been averted, but suddenly...

‘you’re actually so good yourself! I really love your art, you’re super talented!’

(you personally think you SUCK at art but like,,,if Woojin thinks you’re good you must be a little, right?)

‘thanks but I’m not that good’ you reply with a laughing emoji

He sends you angry emojis next! and you’re like ??? what did I do wrong??

You wait anxiously as he’s typing

‘y/n, believe me when I say you and you’re art is so breathtaking’

It’s so short but...so good...you’re heart...is fluttering

Unsure of what to say, you like his message and send some soft heart emojis, unable to convey the emotion you feel right now

He sends a heart emoji right back, along with a blushy face

(what does that mean???)

You send one more heart and then the conversation is over, but you have a feeling that maybe something new has started as well

Maybe

Lee Minho

Minho is a famous model under JYP entertainment, and his handle is @youknow_itsminho 

Firstly, you’re in love with his aesthetic, because every model picture he posts is like looking at an angel without wings.

Secondly, he always goes live all the time and it’s with his cats

People who respect and love their pets??? Yes.

Lives is how it happens, actually

You’re clicking around on Instagram, watching his live, and a notification from your friend comes in.  You click on it, but your phone shorts out suddenly.

When it turns back on, it opens back up to your messages, so you quickly type out a response ‘lol’ and hit send.

It sends...but, ummm...that was not the convo you were having with your friend.

In fact, it’s to someone you’ve never even had a convo with

You quickly check the handle and, omg, it’s Minho’s account djshjkad!

When you clicked on the notification, you’re finger must have accidentally hit his account name instead.

‘At least he’s live still, so he probably won’t notice and doesn’t bother to check...’ you thought to yourself, because you were sure many people tried to talk to him since he had almost one million followers.

Haha...right?

So you go to sleep, turn off your phone and put it face down

But you forgot to turn off your ringer

At three in the morning it goes off right in your ear, really loudly

You’re already pissed at being awake and still half asleep, so when you see it’s an Instagram notification, you automatically assume it’s your friends and reply as you would to them without bothering to read the message.

‘WHY ARE YOU GUYS UP AT THREE A.M., LET ME SLEEP FOR GOODNESS SAKE I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU UP TOMORROW’

Not your finest moment,...but please, you need your beauty sleep

With that, you roll over and go back to sleep

In the morning, you wake up and go check Instagram, like you do every morning

You check your pms, but the top one shocks you so much you have to blink several times to make sure you’re not dreaming.

Minho???  He saw your ‘lol’?

Ahh...as it turns out he saw much more than just ‘lol’.

Remind you to never respond to notifications at three a.m. x.x

Then-this dude- sends you a selfie he took from snapchat or whatever with the caption ‘woken up at three a.m. from my fans’

Yes???  That’s you???  You’re sorry???

‘I’m sorry about that but dang man, no need to be so salty...’; you send

Also, you realize as you’re looking through instagram, he posted the snapshots of your message to him on his story with all these laughing emojis...THIS BOY NOW YOU’RE MAD

I mean he crossed out the handle and profile picture but you know that’s you and, really, that’s what matters right now

So you dm him again; ‘hey did you really need to post that I DIDN’T THINK I WAS THAT FUNNY’

More laughing emojis

You’re about ready to snap, but he sends you another picture with ‘i’m sorry’ scrawled over his beautiful face

You can’t help but smile at that, especially when he adds ‘i’ll talk to you tomorrow?’

‘to clear up this misunderstanding of course :)’ he is quick to add

‘of course’; you say, smiling as you log off

Seo Changbin

Changbin is your best friend’s scary older brother

He followed you first so you followed him back for courtesy’s sake

Plus you like to laugh at his bucket hat posts...

The bucket hat posts is how it all starts

He posts another one and you’re sending it to your friend to laugh about how he looks so soulless, but...ahah...their contacts are right next to each other and maybe you accidentally clicked his?

You’re really not sure how it happened, except the message is sent to Changbin and definitely not your friend

And wow, reading it back, that sounds so mean, especially considering you sent it to the person the message was about

He’s seen it

Oh...wow...you’re really screwed

You immediately try and send an apology that goes something along the lines of ‘I AM SO SO SORRY I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT TO COME OFF SO MEAN OR ANYTHING REALLY’

He sees it again

And leaves you like that for a whole hour

Where you just kind of turn your phone off and try and do something else but the anxiety keeps you checking your phone constantly

Finally he says ‘I’m used to people making fun of me and my hat, no big deal’

But that’s actually kind of sad, so you’re all like ‘:(((’

And he’s all ‘is this conversation done’

Which kind of slaps but like it’s all your fault anyways so whatever

You find some hug gif and send it to him, and then you get radio silence before he actually sends a ‘thanks’

Hmm...you can’t read sarcasm online...

‘are you being sarcastic?’ you ask

‘no, that made me smile’ he tells you and wow, you weren’t expecting him to be quite so touched by a random gif you found 

‘i’m glad!’ you send him, and he actually sends a smiley face?

(he uses emojis? in all your years you had never pegged Seo Changbin as the emoji sending type of person. surprises happen, you guess)

‘I really am very sorry though :(’ you send again because you’re REALLY sorry

‘you’re forgiven, so don’t sweat over it haha’ he tells you

You guess that’s that but you still feel really bad about the whole situation, like you never thought you were a mean person, but that was pretty mean of you

You don’t want to bother him by apologizing again

So you just say ‘ah okay, I won’t~I hope you have a good day’

And he’s like ‘you too’

You can’t tell if he’s just using etiquette or if he really means it, but you’ll take what you can get

(you also never make fun of him or anyone ever again, having learned your lesson)

(your friend also finds out about this exchange and mercilessly teases both of you)

[beedaleebjd]

Hmmm. Feels like I disappeared from blogging for a hot minute... been navigating a very annoying headspace lately and playing a whole lot of ACNH. But on the bright side, I have quite a backlog of unedited photos, uncatalogued projects, and un-captioned posts all in the works. Gonna try to roll up my sleeves and get a queue together, because if it gets bottle-necked over here then I totally don’t post anything on Instagram, ugh. 😅

So current goings-on... My partner placed an order for their first bjd body for their birthday! A Model Delf boy body (the really buff one...😍) That we’re gonna hybrid with a Souldoll Joelle.D head, whenever I can acquire one. (It’ll either be 2nd hand or I will try to when I order the Juno body down the line... Hopefully they’ll let me put a boy head on a girl body....) 

At the same time, @dolliesanddelights​​ got a Tiny they’ve been long wishing for, and I bit the bullet and ordered a Tan Tiny20 Elf Myltyl. 😖💦 I’ve had her on my wishlist for a few years (Before I found my Tinies, even) but I was feeling nervous because I still don’t have a perfectly clear idea for who she’s supposed to be... But this worked out alright with Cecilia, so I’m going to take it slow and let her tell me.

What else... @dolliesanddelights​​ let me go on a Alice’s Collections clothing spree for my birthday last month! 💕💕 99% of it ended up being for Void-Hime because she was severely lacking some staple pieces and BOY she is hot stuff now. I need to take a proper photoshoot and fashion-show of all the things I got.... 😍

I’ve been doing a decent amount of sewing and crafting, I’m working on a V1 yarn wig for several characters (Cece, Mana, Nova, Chase) but I think I need to focus on them one at a time- I forgot how absolutely grueling making yarn wigs is. Uuuugh lmao.... It’s so much more enjoyable on DZ Ivy and Obitsu sized heads. /o/ But I’ll keep at it.

The CandyKitten eyes I was agonizing about arrived a bit ago, and they indeed did not fit. I’ve recovered (I GUESS) from my glaring oversight and I will order another pair- because aside from that issue, they are SO PRETTY and high quality and match her color scheme perfectly.

I have to wait until her etsy reopens though because of quarantine, aaaaaa. It’s alright, I need to save some money anyway. She’ll wear the oversized pair in the meantime. T//v//T

Some smaller updates, I have drafts in the works for some other little packages/doll things I’ve acquired over the months, doll faceups I’ve been working on and/or finished, other mishaps/adventures, some sorting/cleaning of my craft stuff that I love to document... and the like. Been interested in learning embroidery to add some stitched flourishes to my dresses, so when I get the nerve I’ll post that journey too.

Also also also, I’m officially putting Doll in Mind Aria on my wishlist. (Right after I more or less emptied it out, ahahaha...) 💦 Of course it’s after that massive DiM group order passed, because I am a wreck and talked myself out of it until it was too late and now I regret it. 😤 I’ve also been following some one-man-band bjd artisans on instagram and that was a very bad idea because now I am a little tempted to wishlist a few, oof....

I guess that’s enough of an update. I should spend time actually queuing all this stuff now and not just talk about doing it!

[dansnaturepictures]

10 of my favourite pictures to take from 7th-13th June 2020 and recap of the week 

As I stood looking at Marbled Whites butterflies and then Bee orchids at Stockbridge Down and then (briefly) Lakeside yesterday afternoon I had a thought. I didn’t want to take photos of them as I had taken pictures I was pretty proud of featuring the species only days before, albeit with the Marbled Whites yesterday I saw some unique image opportunities to the ones at Lakeside on Tuesday so did try in the end but wasn’t quite fast enough to take them before the butterflies flew. But the thought was that it didn’t seem like they were only days ago like it normally would as with working from home even on in places greyer and wetter days of late I am just producing so many images on daily walks and more. So if its like this for me a high turnover meaning images taken in the week proceeding this Saturday felt like ones from ages ago I dread to think what its like for my social media mutuals! More Twitter than Tumblr but I think similarly I do have such a high turnover at the moment. This isn’t a thought that worries me too much, I always console myself that they’ll always be churn I just can’t help it. 

For Twitter especially a picture I take on a Sunday afternoon when life is normal I’m working all week perhaps in winter and then I don’t take another or don’t upload any old pictures for whatever reason until the following Saturday is always going to get an advantage being at the top of my profile and displayed in the six most recent images on the profile for longer than a photo taken the Wednesday of a week I’m off work say and am producing 10s of photos every day. Its just that every week feels like this at the moment, I have reasons when working from home to keep my finger off my camera button a bit here and there but mostly related to the subsequent processing of them clashing with things in evenings. But I’ve long realised whilst in these very weird times I am so lucky to be able to safely get out and walk in a varied, biodiverse and beautiful country park on my doorstep. I’ve also been extremely lucky of late with restrictions easing to safely get back to some of the more normal for us weekend walks we have been able to do and in many cases take unprecedented amounts of pictures for me on days really seeing amazing wildlife as well. 

One way I’ve perhaps tried to give photos a chance to stick around a bit is by keeping my system of pinning my most interacted with new photo or wildlife sighting tweet to my profile each week, instead of it being just out of what I took at the weekend out of every photo taken the week prior. This week especially will be an exciting one to pick because all across social media but especially Twitter I seem to have had so many people interacting with my photos this week notably which has been happening more and more for a while really so I am so so grateful for that. A huge thank you to everyone for doing that, whether you’re a regular friend of mine on here or not. Seeing people interact even in a small way makes posting my photos so much more worthwhile. But this weekend I had the idea, a bit like one of my picks which I occasionally do where I either tweet what was my favourite photo to take that week or do a post on here with the context of that photo, to do this post. One big reason being doing the pick perhaps more regularly would help give photos that are maybe a bit lost in the crowd another chance to be seen as my photo of the week system which this replaced in 2017 did but the past week unlike the one before it there were too many standout photos (I hope I don’t seem big headed saying that) from different themes which every one of these tweets has to have now so it would be too time consuming to pick one. So below are captions to each pictures in order of appearance in this photoset, with a little bit about the day and if anyone is interested a link to the blog post I did on the night...

1. Common Tern at Pennington on Sunday, a great day to kick off this week with a variety of birds seen it really was a top late spring day of New Forest birding at a site I love so much and missed a lot in the stricter days of lockdown, including key year ticks my first Little Ringed Plover and Eider Ducks of the year. 

2. A dramatic landscape at Pennington also that day 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620294983274184704/7620-flowers-in-the-garden-pennington-walk-and

3. Young Goldfinch in the garden on Monday, alongside a lovely Lakeside walk around the lakes with my Dad at a 2 metre distance under the current restrictions a key moment from Monday was seeing and finally getting to photograph another adorable young bird in the garden with this Goldfinch. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620383808053739520/08062020-spider-from-my-last-night-in-my-room

4. Meadow Brown at Lakeside Country Park on Tuesday, one of my best days of butterfly watching this year thanks to a sweet 45 minutes or so at Lakeside characterised in part by a notable amount of these butterflies opening their wings which I don’t often see giving picture opportunities. 

5. Marbled White at Lakeside also on Tuesday, the key part of my working week really after a few lunch times of looking in the area I am so used to seeing them in at this country park and that I nickname after them I was over the moon to come across this one it was a wonderful natural moment a key part of my year and felt like one of my best days for butterfly photographs in a week that had three of my best so far I feel all of which are in this post. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620477036347129856/09062020-flowers-and-marbled-white-and-more-on

6. Bee orchid at Lakeside on Wednesday, just metres from where the Marbled White was taken this day was very different with showers up until half way through my lunch break, by which point I stretched the legs at Lakeside after eating lunch and seeing this amazing wildflower which I photographed a bit further along in the walk last month with my macro and being able to capture it with raindrops still fresh with my big lens the only one I had on me was one of my greatest natural and beautiful moments this week. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620568869335105536/showery-wednesday-10th-june-2020-starlings

7. View at Lakeside that peaceful evening, Thursday was another wet and stormy this time day where garden birdwatching took a lot of focus to be honest as it did the latter half of this week as I didn’t know what quality of walks I’d get with showers for most of the afternoon and early evening, the lunch time one wasn’t very eventful that day but I did have a peaceful evening one as it got dry which this view summed up really. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620660235307270144/thursday-11062020-thunderstorm-the-calm-after

8. Oxeye daisies at Lakeside, Friday, another evening walk after another wet lunch time one which I did this time get out to Lakeside on. This was another flower picture and another oyeye daisy picture I am happy with this year. The day belonged to moths though supported by butterflies with Yellow Shell seen on both walks alongside my first ever Burnet Companion on the evening walk which was a fantastic moment alongside Meadow Brown, another Marbled White and another Small Skipper like my first of the year there a week prior as it got brighter in the evening. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620751463837319169/12062020-birds-butterflies-moths-and-more-at

9. Dark Green Fritillary at Stockbridge Down on Saturday, yesterday it was a butterfly classic for me at one of my favourite places to watch them headlined by this one of the next species I needed to see this year but another early sighting compared to previous years. We saw so many as well as other top species such as Small Blue (which I forgot to mention in my wildlife sightings summary yesterday!), Marbled White and Small Tortoiseshell. So many pictures taken yesterday too across wildlife, landscapes and flowers. 

10. View at Common Marsh also on Saturday, with a call in at this nearby spot too it became a brilliant general wildlife day as I saw my first Sedge Warbler, Banded Demoiselle and Scarlet Tiger moth of 2020 too as well as loads of water birds. 

https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/620838370171666432/13062020-stockbridge-down-and-common-marsh-with

So there we are, another unforgettable week. I would add this is a one off right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to do this every week going forward. But if I get the time, maybe I will do now and again of a Sunday morning/early afternoon just so I know I am reflecting really. Thanks once again for your amazing and truly valued support!