#I definitely need to reread her rambling when I’m not so tired lol but i loved this upd8 omggg

[turntechradiohead]

Rose refusing to confront what was happening to her during the early parts of the game by rebelling against her quest is really coming back around to her, and now she’s searching for that same sort of structure and purpose that the game tried to give her again now. She’s trying to find meaning in new problems with the old framework given to her that she discarded at the time, which is just narrowing her entire outlook on her future

Kind of like Doc Scratch in a way, she thinks that because she has these omniscient powers no one can outwit her, so she stops trying altogether. Because she’s accepted everything is the way that it is and at the end she will no longer exist, her actions now don’t matter anymore

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me: Chapter Five

Thanks for your continued support for these sweet artsy bairns! Here’s the next installment! I read all of your kind comments and they mean the absolute world to me.

READ ON AO3

Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

Claire was just walking up to the picturesque green of Louisburg Square, where her townhouse sat facing the gardens, when her phone began an incessant buzzing. She had her hands full after stopping at the market for dinner staples (otherwise known as a box of Velveeta Shells & Cheese). She was fumbling with her purse and muttering a not-so-quiet “Shit,” when she dropped her keys on the porch. When she stooped lower to get the keys, more toiletries from the market spilled onto the ground and rolled down the steps while her phone continued to buzz. “Oh fuck it all to hell… Oh hello, Mr. Grant!” Claire’s next door neighbor was a kind man, but always appeared perplexed -- whether by her uncontrollable hair, clothes splattered with dirt from the shop, or simply by wondering how she came to be the owner of one of the most coveted real estate properties in New England, Claire would never know.

“Hello dear. Are you alright over there?” His brow was knit as Claire shoved her scattered belongings back into their various bags all while muttering under her breath as to not offend the old man’s sensibilities. She stood, and realized he had most definitely already heard her vocabulary choices.

“Oh, I’m fine, just one of those days!” One of those days where you fall head over heels for the strange guy you met last night and then all your shit falls on the sidewalk because your brain is short-circuiting.

“Well as always, if you need anything, I’m just here and happy to help.”

“Thank you! One day I’ll absolutely take you up on it -- I’m usually less of a mess!” She tried to joke it off, but it sounded a little too much like she was trying to justify herself to neighbor, and herself.

Mr. Grant smiled. “Of course, dear. Ah, you seem to be very popular today!”

Claire’s phone went off for at least the fifth time. She tried to reign in her annoyance, said her goodbyes to the man, and using her foot to kick a back of groceries inside the doorway finally made it inside. She dug around her bag for the phone ready to lash out at whatever telemarketer couldn’t take a hint, but stopped.

Two missed phone calls, four missed texts. The caller left a voicemail for each call. She pressed play on the earlier one.

“Hi Sassenach, uh, Claire, I guess I should call ye Claire since that’s yer name, huh? Shit. Hold on… Okay, let me start over. Hello Claire, this is Jamie. James. James Fraser? From the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken? Of course she kens, ye damn eedjit… Me! Not you! Oh god this is literally the worst call I’ve ever made in my life. Fuck it, I’m just going to try again.” The voicemail abruptly ended. Claire was in stitches at his earnest attempt to just talk to her. At least he wasn’t lying when she heard him say she wouldn’t have to wait long at all for message from him. She pressed play on the second voicemail.

“Hello Claire, I hope this message finds ye well. It was verra nice to see ye today at my shop. It may be the cool, relaxed thing tae do would be to not call ye right away, but ye make me feel anything but cool and relaxed and under control. Ye make me feel… like there’s something different between us, mo nighean donn. As I told ye in the shop, I dinna think I can wait another week to see ye. If you would do me the honor of saying yes, I would verra much like to take ye out for dinner and drinks. Or anything ye wanted to do, really. Dinner and drinks was just my idea… okay I think I’m getting flustered again so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Okay thanks, talk to you soon hopefully, bye. Oh, and this is Jamie Fraser.”

Her laughter had died out the moment he said how she made him feel. Is that really how he felt about her? Did he mean it? Claire had a feeling that Jamie Fraser from the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken didn’t ever say things he didn’t mean. She fell into the couch facing the big bay window, and breathed. Her breath came in heavy, her heartbeats fast. Her thoughts were swirling and her mind racing and everything felt light around here. A little breathlessly, she opened her text app to a number she didn’t recognize.

[+16178256192]: Hello Claire, this is James Fraser from Fraser Literature and from karaoke last night at The 21st Amendment.

Claire actually laughed out loud now. As if she could forget who he was! He had turned her world upside down at the bar, she sang in his shop, she gave him her phone number less than an hour ago! She added his number to her contacts before reading his following texts.

[Jamie]: Okay that was weirdly formal, sorry

[Jamie]: Could ye do me a favor and just delete the first voicemail?

[Jamie]: I was hoping we could maybe set up a time for the date I mentioned earlier at the shop? I would really like to see ye again before next week.

[Jamie]: And maybe before we have to hang out with the Spanish Inquisition. ;)

Claire laughed through her nose at that last one; apparently, Jamie had been grilled about their relationship? Interaction? by Rupert and Angus like Claire had been by Joe and Geillis. She reread all the messages he’d sent her before responding.

[Claire]: Hello James Fraser, owner of Fraser Literature and karaoke. I do indeed remember and even if I didn’t, you’ve reminded me several times in your many incessant texts/voicemails. ;)

Three dots immediately popped up, disappeared, popped up, and a next text appeared.

[Jamie]: I told ye to delete the first voicemail! You weren’t supposed to hear my rambling!

[Claire]: Uh huh, seems likely. ;) Maybe I have a super power that renders you useless around me?

[Jamie]: Well lass you're not far off.

[Jamie]: How’s about that date? What are you doing tonight?

[Claire]: Lol, you’re not tired of seeing my face yet?

[Jamie]: Not yet, not ever.

[Jamie]: Sooooooooo, dinner? ;)

Eventually, they decided on a little Italian place close to Claire’s place. Claire paced around the upstairs bedroom, trying out an outfit only to rip it off and throw it in a pile on the floor. She’d walk to the bathroom, evaluate her look, give a deep breath out her nose, and was now at the point of yelling about how she had no clothes. But, she remembered. In a garment bag at the back of her closet hung a blood-orange dress. A square neckline gave way to a triangle dip in the middle, the hem came just to the middle of her thigh with a cinched waistline.. She smiled, sadly. The last time she wore the dress, she was still in med school. Frank had asked her out to “a dinner with a few medical friends” and promised she could make a few connections to help her down the road. Claire ended up discarded at the door until Frank needed to show her off to a classmate or professor or colleague. She learned he hadn’t told anyone she was also studying medicine, telling her he “wanted to let you stand on your own, darling.” The last time she had worn that dress, she realized she wouldn’t resign herself to a life of being second-best to her partner, to a group of strangers, or to anyone. Tonight was the perfect time to remind herself she was taking things into her own hands yet again -- with Jamie at her side. Her smile turned genuine, and she pulled it off the hanger.

-- -- --

Jamie knew this was unusual. Claire wasn’t the first girl he’d ever been interested in, but if he had any choice in the matter, she would be the last one. Rationally, he should’ve been talking himself out of planning a future with the girl from the bar, but he couldn’t help himself. When he was in high school in Scotland, he kissed a girl who smelled like hairspray and spun sugar and he didn’t like that at all. He kissed a few lasses before rugby games and they’d tell him it was all for good luck. He enjoyed them (didn’t every red-blooded teenage boy enjoy kisses before sports games?), but enjoyment was the extent of it. In college, he had met Annalise. She was smart and kind and lovely, and so bonny. She’d loved his family, loved him. And he had loved her, too. Their relationship started after their first year at school when they became close friends and confidants. She was truly one of the best friends he’d ever had, outside of the lads. When he said he was leaving Scotland to pursue his dreams in the states, she said she was being “abandoned”. Jamie considered asking her to come with him to build a life, but reconsidered. After many long conversations, many tears, many honest words… they had decided their relationship was based in comfort. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that. They loved each other because of their close friendship, their proximity to each other at school, their families’ friendship that developed because of their own. When Jamie confronted Annalise about his realization that he would forever be grateful for her, but didn’t see a romantic future together, she had cried and told him she was so happy -- she felt the same. They split amicably and continued to call and text when they could. Friendships like theirs didn’t just dissipate.

With Claire, things felt… different. Emotional, raw, honest, profound. It felt like something he couldn’t quite place. Something he didn’t have words for. The mere thought of her made his pulse quicken, made his breath catch in his chest. Their connection last night at the bar, their physical connection at the bookshop (god, how it felt to be touched by her…) , their easy banter over text, and then when she gave him her address… he had to sit down. He knew her address exactly. He’d passed it every time he went home, or went to work, or went anywhere at all. She lived in Louisburg Square, across the garden and just to the right of a place he knew intimately. She lived across the garden and just to the right, of his place. They were neighbors. He never knew. He thought back to telling her how they must have just been missing each other for years, but god, he never knew how close they really were.

Jamie finished tying up his leather boots and took a look in the mirror. Hair brushed back, curls falling at his neck, a light blue button-up, a leather jacket. Not too bad. Still not good enough for her, though. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, and left his townhouse. He made his way up his side of the square, and stopped not ten feet up the sidewalk. He saw her. From the second floor, Claire was illuminated by soft light in the window, gauzy curtains framing her. He could only watch in awe as her head tilted to the side to fit an earring to her ear. She reached for a brush and started to comb out a curl. Jamie sighed contentedly when he noticed her hair was still down, curled around her face, wild as ever. Claire gave up with the brush and settled herself to smoothing down creases in her wee dress with delicate hands. Hands that had touched him, healed him, had literally written her name over his heart. She was... ethereal. Tearing his eyes away from the window, he managed to send her a message:

[Jamie]: On my way there Sassenach

[Claire]: No worries, take your time. See you soon!

Jamie rounded the center garden and up to her steps. The light from the window was still glowing, but he could no longer see her. One more text:

[Jamie]: Just outside

He walked up the steps, raised his knuckles to the brass knocker, and paused. First step to forever… His phone buzzed.

[Claire]: I thought I said to take your time? ;) seriously, how’d you get here so fast? Just a sec and I’ll be down!

He did knock then, answered her text to say there was no rush, he wasn’t going anywhere. Behind the door he heard a literal run down the stairs and he stifled a chuckle. There was a jingle of keys, a fairly loud, “Shit!” as the keys hit the floor, a scuttle of shoes around the entry, and the door opened.

Here we go, lad.

[anneboleyns]

I saw the downton abbey movie so now here’s kind of a rambling personal essay, under a cut for spoilers for the downton abbey movie. downton abbey movie spoilers ahead.

once again SPOILERS AHEAD also tw for death, grief, suicide attempts/etc mention.

so, i know probably no one cares but considering how active i was in this fandom and how incredibly important this show and the character of thomas was to me personally, i’m just gonna sit here and write my thoughts about thomas barrow, the show, the movie, what it meant to me, and my critique overall

so basically i always loved the show and thomas but it really took off 2 yrs ago during 2017.

i had just moved out of my mother’s house and i had just finished a rewatch of the show, i remember this so clearly lol it was september 2017 the rewatch had started like june 2017. and i remember when i got to my new apartment one of the “comfort shows” i would put on on my very own tv in my very own apartment was “downton abbey”. i believe the other that was regularly tossed on in the background was “the tudors”, obviously lol

anyways, i was so hyper obsessed. i had also JUST discovered that thomas and jimmy were legitimately shipped in this fandom. i had no idea that was a real thing when i watched it live. and i had never cared about jimmy or thought of them as an actual viable relationship. but with this rewatch they just hit different i guess. i spent hours and hours and hours at my mother’s house before the move (which was an EXTREMELY tense living situation, the month or so right before i left. i’m not getting into all of it now. if you followed me back then you know) watching this show like properly sitting and watching an episode with my sister, and then capping for gifs, which if you make gifs you know is basically spending possibly 3 or 4 hours with the same episode. like it can take that long for me personally to go through it and cap everything i want, then, sorting the caps into folders, especially if i’d capped more than one episode. completely mesmerized with the smallest details, hand and facial movements i specifically wanted to gif or be in a set, clothing movements, emotional moments, like i was just so into all aspects of the show and wanted to gif everything. my fav 4 are thomas, sybil, mary, and tom. i also adore edith and it may be a “fav 5″ now as i think i just love all of those characters equally. so i pretty much giffed every single fucking scene they were in lol. unless they were “ugly scenes” that i knew i could never make work in photoshop. sometimes i would cap it anyway and sort it anyway and open it up anyway and try but would end up deleting all the caps for that set. so all the gifs i have posted, is not even all the ones i capped. anyway

okay and then, there’s the fanfic. reading it, rereading, and writing it. it took me 2 years but i actually read close to every single thomas/jimmy fanfic on a03. at some point i only started opening complete fanfics because i got burned too many times on abandoned slow burns, and if a fic wasn’t my thing i would obviously not finish it. but definitely hundreds of works i read, saved to my phone and reread in google books. works i would think about all day.

so, june 2017 i start the rewatch. i also start planning to move out of my mother’s. a toxic tense living situation. in the past i have used harsher words like “abusive”. i can’t really use that word and apply it to my mother right now even though it is accurate. it hurts to think about. i can’t think about it. september 2017 i actually move.

the hyperfixation is in full swing. hours every night reading. reading 50k word fanfics in a single night. hours every day (or, week, i have a fulltime job) capping and coloring frames in photoshop. eventually i started writing fanfic for them as well.

so, in november 2017 my mother is hospitalized. this was not an unusal occurence. in february 2018 they tell us she’s going to die. 12 days later she died.

i’m not gonna really get into what happened to my mental state. it’s uh. bad. guilt. self hatred. like hatred isn’t even a strong enough word. i wanted to annihilate myself. i believed i deserved to be annihilated. that’s the only word violent enough i can think of to describe the depth of it. suicidal. etc. whatever.

but! i had this piece of fiction, this series, and assorted fan works. it really intensified after this. i can look back at this time last year and i remember how obsessed i was lol.

when i try to articulate what this character and show means to me, i always feel really embarrassed. at some point when i’m talking about thomas it becomes obvious i am talking about myself as well. but i’m gonna really try and objectively talk about my opinion on thomas and why i adore him and why i want what i want for him. it’s probably gonna be obvious i am also talking about myself but. anyway. 

here’s the “meta” “opinion on the fictional characters” section.

thomas barrow starts the show as an antagonist. he’s rude, could even be called cruel. a bully, snide, dishonest when it suits him and honest when it hurts him. like, he’s an asshole. what he said about william’s mom. how he treated baxter. his ambition and the underhanded things he does to serve it. overall proud demeanor designed to make those around him feel lesser. feel less able to hurt him. he wants the people around him to feel like they should not hurt him. i think he might be unaware that that is his motivation. because even as he’s afraid of everyone, he craves everyone as well. he’s alone, outside, and he’s been shoved there, constantly, he’s been shoved there politely and he’s been shoved there violently and if they’re gonna shove him here outside, away from them, unfixably different from them, unworthy of them, then he will stay there. like, the meanness and the comments and the attitude. he’s already Not Like The Others. if they already don’t like him, he will make it even harder for them to like him. unless, he can get somewhere safer, which is where his motivation comes in.

i just really view thomas as a character that craves safety.

he wants others to not hurt him. he wants to get from where he is to somewhere safer, somewhere up there, where it’s even less likely for people to be able to hurt him.

so, his motivations: safety, and then, there’s love.

he constantly has this world and these people implicitly and explicitly telling him he cannot love or be loved. it’s not right, it’s not natural, best case scenario is it doesn’t even exist- he’s confused, he’s sick, he’s broken, maybe they can fix it. he’s on the outside, remember, and he just gets to watch thru the window as the others dance and fall in love and have friends and family and be cherished. he can have none of it. this is a really old story that could be told by better people and in a better way.

the loves we get to see him have all have teeth. he’s betrayed by one lover and then abandoned, someone he obviously had feelings for but also betrayed first. then we get a probably one-sided attraction, but still a friend, still someone he can actually be vulnerable with since they’re helplessly vulnerable with him as well due to the circumstances. who kills himself. and then there’s the shameless, stupid hope that almost costs him everything, but he does get a friend in the balance.

he finds a friend in baxter, another character i just adore, because she gives to thomas what he needs even though he objectively does not deserve it, at least not from her, who he has terrorized. baxter’s trauma from her abusive relationship with coyle that thomas knows and uses, the impossible situation thomas places her in, the manipulation, the bullying, some would even term his behavior abusive. baxter would have had every right to ignore thomas, to get him fired, to hurt him back. but she loves him instead. she loves him in spite of. she loves him because. she helps him, she speaks to him softly and kindly. she tells him he’s brave. she remembers him as a child. this especially touches me. the idea of thomas as a child, someone who must have been different from who he is now, and she knows them both and loves him. she looks at the grown, hurt, cruel man in front of her and she speaks to the boy she once knew, and thomas listens. slowly. but he listens. AND she tries to give him advice for finding a lover, supporting and encouraging something the rest of the entire fucking series despises or ignores.

i don’t have enough energy to really go off but, baxter is supreme. i need a baxter.

thomas clearly cannot form self esteem in the environment he lives in. the ground is dead. he can’t grow it himself. he has this ironclad sense that he deserves what the others have, the ones on the inside. it’s immovable. he deserves it, they have no right to keep it from him. maybe he’ll never, ever get it, but in his mind, in his heart, he will never stop believing he deserves it. they tell him he’s nothing, he’s dirt, he’s wrong, and he just nods and keeps walking. they can think that. they can say that. he can’t stop them. but he will not stop working for the future he wants. he will not stop until they have no choice but to let him inside.

but he wants, i think, for them to invite him inside. but he’ll never admit it, and he’ll never ask for it, and he’ll never get it anyway.

so, he tries to change himself. maybe they’ll invite him in then? no.

then, his attempts to form friendships get twisted, and aborted, and he gets tired stereotypical accusations thrown on him.

then, he tries to kill himself in a bathtub with a razor.

then, he leaves his home and spends his days bored and unchallenged and away from all of the friends and half-friends he had.

then, he’s invited back. he’s invited inside!!!! you might say. and yeah i guess. as close as they’ll ever let him. but part of him always ignored and not commented on. part of him always raised eyebrows at i’m sure. and yes, his bad behavior is also to blame for this. but see, the 2 are linked. and you can’t unlink them.

by the end of the show the others still largely tiptoe around him. but due to his now somewhat subdued behavior he’s “likable” now.

i think it’s quite a choice to have this character who is completely sharp edges have them worn away by heartbreak, torture, injury, suicide attempt, ostracisation, abandonment, and present that as a victory, as a happy ending. but guess what? it is. and i’ll take it. he was back among his friends, back home, accepted, celebrating with everyone else, and i adored it, even as the jarring notes i heard in it won’t ever fade from my opinion of it.

anyway, in the aftermath of my grief i fell heavily into this story and the many stories of thomas finding love and safety. and healing, and friends, and peace. lots different from each other and lots the same. again, i relate very strongly to this character. i was not in a mindset where i was able to be kind to myself. or think sympathetically about myself. i think i fixated so much on this character, became obsessed with finding stories where he gets told and he experiences all the things i think i wanted to be told and i wanted to experience. i couldn’t accept it, even the concept, directly. but i devoured and absorbed a billion pixels of a character very similar to me accepting it. it’s the closest the concept could have gotten to me and i’m embarrassed i only recently realized this link and that that was what i was doing considering it is obvious, and common, and normal. maybe not “healthy” but like. let’s not get into healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms rn bec i promise you the fanfic and the fiction fixation is not even at the top of the list lol

FAST FORWARD it’s september 2019. the movie is in theaters.

my mom is still dead. but. a lot has happened to me. i have happened to some people. i’ve been thru some more things now. dipped my toes and eventually completely submerged and perhaps am drowning in the entire Romance/Love/Sex section of human experience. again, let’s not get into it. but it’s a LOT. 

i don’t quite have the same relationship with fiction and fanfiction as i used to. it’s been only 2 years since leaving my mother’s house, but i feel as though galaxies could fit in between the girl back there and the one here. but they’re the same! i’m working on understanding that. 

i love this character and this show so much. i loved the film. there are problems- the writing and plotting is not nearly as neat and crisp and sharp. it’s more smooth, almost to a loss of definition, and instead of quick-wit it feels just... fast. there’s no time to really dive in in a film, so i’ll forgive all that, but it’s a flaw that should be mentioned. but it’s not a flaw that prevents joy in the film. i was overjoyed watching it. the things i wanted for thomas all happened. all the characters and relationships were... smoothed, i can’t describe it any other way. i feel like the bumps and corners and quirks and hidden pockets of them were just smoothed away. we know they’re there because we watched the show, but the film doesn’t- can’t- show them all. 

it was frustrating for me to see thomas smoothed in this way, but also satisfying, because while he absolutely one of a kind, unique, damaged, and layered, and contradictory, really a marvelous character and well-built... he is just like everyone else. and i think he would love and hate that and i love and hate that about myself.

for this reason, i really enjoyed a scene where he refuses to help carson. carson is flustered and overworked, in a crisis, and asks barrow for help, and thomas refuses, with a smile. i adored it. carson is one of thomas’ worst ... opponents, i could say. carson hurls homophobic abuse at and about thomas several times during the series, casts aspersions on him in the film as well, and he can choke. i love that even though towards the end of the show and yes during the rest of the film thomas’ sharp edges got smoothed away, but they put this one in and it catches you right on the bone how it should- an older woman in my theater actually gasped, offended, when thomas refused to help and carson was left to flounder. i, on the other hand, thought, “that’s my boy,” and leaned back in my seat satisfied. it might be my fav moment in the film. surprising considering the AMAZING joy and tenderness thomas gets to experience in the movie (but, i think that’s just my taste right now due to a personal heartbreak i won’t get into). like, they shoved him outside, carson shoved him outside, outside the realm of normal, and this is a moment of carson needing his help and thomas going, “no, remember how you used to treat me? remember how you secretly think of me? i do. i won’t forget. good luck! bye!” and then goes on to have a terrible wonderful adventure, while someone funny and kind finally falls in love with him, he gets to stand up for himself to the crawleys in the beginning of the film as well and i just felt elated watching that scene.

i could probably write essays about the love and romance portion of his storyline in the movie. but i’m just not in the headspace to do that right now super in depth but.

i’m also annoyed he had to experience yet ANOTHER homophobic plotline. he goes out to a gay club for literally The First Time and gets arrested and called a dirty pervert. i remember this being my exact fear for the movie. like “imagine if thomas goes to a gay club and gets arrested? that would suck!!!” and that is exactly what happens. but at least it’s so quick, i genuinely think that entire plot is like 6 short scenes max. why is julian fellowes obsessed with having this character, the ONE main queer character, suffer solely because he is gay? experience so many gay-specific agonies, the depths of which i just really doubt he, fellowes, can understand. it’s really, really, disappointing. but consistent as the show did this as well. smh. at least he gets out, and his lover, richard, goes to bat for him in this movie TWICE!!!!! and stares at him with stars in his eyes, soft and enamoured? while thomas is oblivious?? I’VE READ THIS FIC BEFORE!!!! so yes that was VERY cute and all i ever fucking wanted

it’s just funny how fiction touches us differently depending on what we’re going through, especially for those of us that were lonely, neglected, children, ones who grew up with favorite characters instead of friends. i might be more “normal” i might be more “sociable” i might have more “life experience” than i used to but this fangirl inside is just not going anywhere.

this was just a ramble, i wrote it with no point in mind and i’m not rereading or editing it lol. enjoy this vague update into my life/movie review/character meta lol

[the-resurrection-3d]

hey so I (@aelinbitch) am currently answering the ask you just sent me for this but i decided to write A Whole Essay so in the mean time: would love to hear you go off on something about the acotar series - something you have an issue with or love or literally anything. i stopped reading midway through acowar not because i disliked it that much or anything but just because i like….. lost steam i guess? so anyway i don’t engage with acotar content that much and i’d love to hear your hot takes

Lol this will probably also require an essay. 

EDIT: it did require an essay. I cut out some stuff (like the way the fae world is wlwphobic and the fandom’s reaction to it) just because this post was getting too long and that whole mess could make for its own. The TL;DR is I am both a contrarian and yet don’t have anything new to say because we all know SJM didn’t think it though that deeply.

Now, keep in mind that I haven’t reread any of the books, nor have I finished ACOFAS - I gave up about halfway through because it just wasn’t grabbing me. ACOWAR was slaughtered on the alter of unnecessary spin-offs, and ACOFAS did little to mend my opinion. I actually had a review of it written way back when for my wordpress blog, but my beta thought it was too dark because it ended on a few quotes from Yahtzee Croshaw’s Duke Nukem Forever review. Specifically these lines:

So,this is how the anticipation ends, people. First show of the long-awaitedcomeback tour and the singer’s hanged himself on the microphone cord. But he’strying to sing anyway! Forcing on a smile and choking out lyrics in-betweengrotesque spasms. Andyou’re wondering whether it’s kinder to cut him down or swing on his legs tohelp him on his way.

Yeah, he thought it was a tad too dark, lol.

Looking back over my ACOFAS review (which was really a rambling list of complaints that I openly struggled to continue), I suppose I really have only a few things that are still worth mentioning. My personal favorite that I haven’t really seen echoed:

Honestly,since it’s very clear every Archeron sister is going to be mated off, what I’dlove to happen is for each sister to be used to explore a different way themate bond can resolve itself. Feysand is obviously meant to be the OTP, butElucien can become best friends (possibly with benefits) as Elain comes out ofher shell, while Nessian eventually realizes that however much they understandeach other, they’re too toxic to function in a romantic relationship.

Thatwas supposed to be the original definition of mates, wasn’t it? Someone whounderstands you better than anyone else on earth? It’s a very versatiledefinition, and one I’d like to see explored further – I’m honestly tired ofboth media and fandoms treating soul mates as an exclusively romantic phenomenon,to the point I’ve been about turned off the trope entirely. 

And then I shit-talked a TomTord artist who also draws Big Hero 6 incest porn, lol. Like I said, I was openly struggling to write about ACOFAS. Sure, Rhysand’s parents hated each other, but we don’t actually see them “on-screen.” Not that any of this really matters since the definition of the mating bond has gotten increasingly mangled. Can I just say I’ve never really liked Nessian / Elucien or gotten the hype about them? 

And then ACOFAS vagued me personally with Rhys/Cass/Az’s constant reminders of what great totally fraternal brotherly no homo brothers they are. I’ve seen plenty of anti TOGs complain about SJM burying any ship she doesn’t like, but I didn’t believe it until that book, lol.

On a more positive note though, ACOWAR had a lot of moments I really loved! Part one ( “The Princess of Carrion,” right?) was just SJM’s fairy!Degrassi AU and it was fantastic, because it captured perfectly the best moments of that horrible, horrible show – namely, watching a character you hate get shit on by everyone else around them. 

Also, Amren’s comment that Feyre was treating her sisters the way Tamlin treated her? I was shook to my fucking soul. And honestly I hope I hear about SJM capitalizing on that more in the Nessian book, because ACOFAS had plenty to support that. Sure, I don’t like Nesta, I would be fed-up with her behavior in ACOFAS too, but Feyre needs to understand that she can’t mend their relationship if Nesta herself isn’t interested, and it really felt like Feyre only bankrolled Nesta as an excuse to keep herself tied to her sister. (Which is all very ironic, considering one thing I loved about ACOTAR is Feyre eventually realized her family ain’t shit – I’ve been so hungry for stories that acknowledge that family =/= undying love/loyalty. Oh well. “Requiem” from DEH still exists I guess, lol). 

Oh god this is getting long. Sorry I went off like that! I don’t really have many opportunities to talk about this series. :PPPPPP

[t0ngue-tech]

Longing For You

“Out of all of things that were stacked on your plate for your senior year, your unrequited feelings for Taehyung was the thing stressing you out the most and you hated it. You already had enough to worry about, feelings shouldn’t be one of them.”

↠soft angsty ish, highschoolAU↞

word count: 3.3k

↠series↞

A/N: ya girl is back with another cheesy best friend/unrequited love AU! not gonna lie, these stories are definitely one of my faves to write. hopefully you’re not tired of it yet lol. i hope you guise enjoy this story ^-^

You stared at your laptop screen for what seemed to be hours, but in reality it’s only been 15 minutes. Senior year started a month ago and it already felt like you were swamped with a lot more work than you were supposed to be. But of course, you were student council president, the workload was already a given.

As council president, you were in charge of the events for your class which also meant the winter formal. The entire council had already begun an outline during the last couple weeks of summer vacation, so you were going over it trying to map things out more specifically. You squinted at the black lettering of the document and pushed your laptop away from you to plant your face onto the table.

You took an almost full schedule of AP honors classes and the first month of school already wiped you out. Not having enough hours of sleep was a side effect of taking the AP classes and you were already warned about it.

“Good luck on sleep, y/n. You won’t be getting any of it.”

“I’m shocked, Tae. Are you doubting me?”

“Ehh. Just warning you.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong.” You mumbled and brought you head up to rest your chin on your palm. You stared out the window to see if you could get a good glimpse of the basketball courts. “Hm, empty.”

“Class prez’! How’s my favorite girl?” The deep bass of a boy’s voice startled you to the car. A very sweaty student walked into the council room with a backpack over his shoulder and a basketball under his arm. “Looking for me?”

“You wish, Tae.” You folded your arms across your chest and tipped your head back.

“Ouch. I haven’t seen my best friend for a week and this is how you treat me?”

You and Kim Taehyung knew each other since you were both toddlers. Your fathers worked together through business and were constantly overseas during your childhood. This meant that your mothers would get together for a meal and you and Taehyung would play together. Being this close resulted in attending the same elementary, middle, and eventually, high school. There was no way of escaping Taehyung’s personality and his love for spontaneous adventures. He always wanted to hangout, get a late night snack, or even trespass in the community center pool to go for a swim. Not only did you have a lot of memories with Taehyung, you also had gut wrenching feelings.

“Stop being dramatic. I’m just tired.” You weakly smiled at him and sat up straight.

“I know. Why don’t you replace one of your AP classes with a regular honors class? I’m taking honors english and it’s not so bad.” Taehyung dropped his belongings and sat on the edge of the table you were working on. “Oh! Take the class with me! You can still switch!”

You laughed dryly at his comment. Despite not seeing him for a week, you saw Taehyung enough and having him in a class was internally going to make things more complicated for you.

Your feelings for Taehyung never surfaced until middle school. It was a late night and you both were hurrying home after staying out to try and catch fireflies. Your mason jars came up empty, but the adrenaline rush of running into the night was always euphoric for you. Taehyung suggested a short cut and this involved hopping over a tall fence. As you followed his method in climbing over the steel barricade, you misplaced your foot and slipped at the top. You scraped your knee on one of the wires at the top and crashed onto the pavement. For a moment, you had no idea where you were because the impact of the fall had you in shock.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Holy fuck—what hurts? Can you stand?” Taehyung frantically rushed to your side to help you sit up against his chest.

“Yeah, I think I can—ah! Fuck!” You tried to lift yourself off of the cement, but the pain in your knee prevented from doing so. The pain was unbearable and when you looked down, there was a tremendous amount of blood soaking your leg.

“Oh my fuck. Okay, hold on I need to control the bleeding.” Taehyung tossed his backpack aside and peeled his shirt off to use it as a gauze. After securing it, knelt down with his back towards you. “Carry my backpack and climb on, I’ll carry you to my house since it’s closer from this side.” You obliged because of your inability to walk.

There were about two more blocks until Taehyung’s neighborhood and you two spent the time talking about random things. The whole walk there you soaked in the warmth of his skin and broadness of his shoulders. His honey colored hair smelt like apples and pinewood and you were amazing by his stamina for carrying you the whole way there.

“I’ll have my mom call your mom so she’s not worried. Hm, we’re going to have to think of an excuse though. After what happened to you in the sixth grade I don’t think she would be happy hearing that you hopped a fence.” You laughed at the memory of your mom being horrified over the purple-blue bruise you got from hopping a fence.

You dipped your head into the side of his neck and hummed. “I can just say I slipped trying to catch a firefly. I’ll deal with the details myself.” Taehyung nodded his head and lifted you upward to adjust your position. “You can put me down, you know. We’re not too far from your place.”

“It’s fine, y/n. Your knee was cut up pretty bad.” There was a hint of concern in Taehyung’s voice and you closed your eyes, burying your face deeper into his skin. “When you fell, I called your name twice and you didn’t answer… I almost cried on the spot.”

“Stop being dramatic, Tae.” You laughed.

“I’m serious, y/n. Let’s cut back on the night time adventures until you fully heal. No matter how many daring things we’ve done, I’ve never been more scared than I was at that moment.” Taehyung couldn’t see you but your eyes softened and you could tell your cheeks were flushed.

Hearing Taehyung talk to you like that was almost like a taboo of some sorts. It was always “suck it up, the cut will close up tomorrow,” or “clean it, put a band aid, and let’s head right back.” Taehyung’s version of “tough love” was practically vanilla and his solution to everything was to slap on a band aid. The words he said to you made your heart race and it made you wonder if it was really your Taehyung that was carrying you.

“O-Okay.” You sputtered.

“I’ll ask my mom to ask your mom if you could sleep over.”

“Tae, I live two blocks after yours. I can walk after I rest for a bit.”

“Nope. I won’t allow that. You’ve slept over before, so I’m pretty sure your mom won’t mind.”

It was true, you did sleepover multiple times in the past. You took his bed while he slept comfortably on a foldable mattress on the carpet. This was something you were already used to and yet, your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

You didn’t sleep well that night.

“So? What do you say, y/n? Take my honors english class.” Taehyung’s voice brought you back to reality. Hopefully you weren’t spacing out for too long.

“Eh, I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I like my teacher for that class. Maybe I’ll consider a different one.”

“Fine, but you’re going to be missing out on the seatmate ever.”

You put your attention back to your laptop and began rereading the outline. Taehyung noticed and stood behind you to take a peek.

“Ooh! Is this the winter formal? Do we have a theme yet?” Taehyung settled his hands beside your arms, trapped you right in between and settled his chin on your head. Thankfully he was standing behind you so he wouldn’t have to see how flushed your cheeks were. Taehyung had no problem with physically keeping you close to him. Whether it was wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you walked in the hallways, leaning his head on your shoulder when he sat down beside you, or tightly holding onto your sweaty hand trying to get you to run faster. If it wasn’t for him piggy backing you and saying those words back in middle school then maybe you would be used to these actions. Even after doing it a million times, you still weren’t adjusted.

“Y/n, what the heck are you doing here? We told you to go home today so you could rest.” A mutual friend of you and Taehyung, Jung Hoseok, stood in the doorway.

“Hey Hoseok! Your hair faded into a pretty cool color.” Taehyung released you from his clutches to give Hoseok a bro hug.

“Right? Surprisingly, the purple and silver pink-ish color mixes well together.” He ruffled his hair and approached you flick your forehead. “Go home, Ms. Stubborn.”

Taehyung stared at you with wide eyes and closed your laptop. “She isn’t supposed to be in the council room today?”

“Nope. She kept falling in and out of sleep during yesterday’s meeting so we decided for her to go straight home and take a nice long nap.” You stared at your oddly colored hair friend with a displeased look.

“Well, if that’s the case—” Taehyung gathered all of his belongings, including yours, and pulled you up by the arm. “Let’s go home together.”

↠↞

The car ride home was the same as usual, Taehyung reclined the passenger seat almost all the way down and stuck his feet out your window. He rambled on about how nervous he was for his road test next week. You got your provisional license before Taehyung and this resulted in you driving him around everywhere because you barely trusted him with your car. It was a bit terrifying sitting in the passenger seat when Taehyung drove, but over time it wasn’t as life threatening as it was in the beginning.

“Hopefully I pass the road test. Signing up for an appointment online was hard as fuck because the spots fill in quick and I want to be able to drive to the winter formal.” He groaned scratching his scalp with full force.

“You’ll be fine, Tae. Just relax and continue to practice driving until your appointment.”

“If I fail and there’s no other spots open before the formal, my date and I can ride with you and your date, right?”

The conversation escalated quickly and his question caught you off guard. “Y-You know who you’re taking to the formal already?” You really didn’t mean to stutter when asking your question, but fortunately Taehyung didn’t make a remark about it at all.

“Nah, I’m just generally speaking.” You were relieved, but honestly, you had a feeling that there was no way Taehyung would seriously ask you to be his date. “Hey, but if I can’t get myself a date and if someone doesn’t ask you, do you want to go together?”

“Okay, fine with me.”

↠↞

“You have a chance with going with Tae to the formal. What’s wrong with that?”

“Hoseok, do you not realize how many girls fawn over the ace player of our basketball team?!”

Textbooks and notebooks were sprawled in the middle of your bed whilst you and Hoseok surrounded them. The nap you took only lasted for an hour and you still woke up exhausted. Due to not being able to nap, you called Hoseok over to study. You both studied for about a half an hour until you became distracted and directed your attention elsewhere.

“So? None of those girls are you.” Hoseok reassured you by tossing a crumpled piece of paper at your face. You gave him a weak smile and reached over squeeze his knee.

You met Hoseok during your junior year when he won position as class treasurer. At first he seemed quiet, someone who kept to himself, but he easily opened up to you after a week or two and he was the complete opposite.

Over the past year, Hoseok remained by your side and helped you through council and your classes. It turned out that he knew Taehyung through a science class in sophomore year, so the three of you got along perfectly. It was until Hoseok told you that you and Taehyung would make a cute couple and it triggered you to open up about your feelings for your best friend.

Hoseok fully supported your feelings and wanted to help blossom a romantic relationship, but you adamantly refused. You already stitched in your mind that Taehyung was just your friend and that’s all it was going to ever be.

“Anyways,” you sigh. “How is long-distance so far? You two doing okay?”

“It’s going alright so far. Seokjin is still trying to adjust to his time zone, but overall we’re still fine.” Hoseok explained with a smile.

The vice president of last year’s council was Kim Seokjin, who was Hoseok’s boyfriend. They began dating after a few months of getting to know each other and were still happily together a year later. During the summer transitioning into senior year, Seokjin had to move abroad due to his parents job and also to be closer to his college of choice. Hoseok had been in a slump for weeks, but you helped pick him up back to his cheerful self.

They kept their relationship under the radar and it wasn’t because they were ashamed, it was plainly because they wanted to keep their relationship to themselves.

“It must be such a beautiful thing having a relationship with someone with mutual romantic feelings.” You spewed out, slumping back onto your side.

“I told you, I can pull strings and set you two up! It’ll be fine!” Hoseok reached over the pile of books to latch onto your wrists and pull you back up.

“Hoseok, no. You’ve seen the girls he talked to, I don’t fit into that category—speaking of the devil, hello?”

Your phone was buzzing beside you; a call from Taehyung.

“I hunger. Let’s get something to eat!”

“Sorry, Tae. I’m currently studying with Hoseok.”

“You didn’t want to study with me instead?”

You looked up at Hoseok and gave him a weird look. “Aren’t you tired of seeing me all the time?”

“Never. I would never get tired of seeing you. Don’t tell me you’re sick of me, y/n?”

It was clear to Hoseok that Taehyung said something gut wrenching because of how pink your cheeks had gotten.

“No, Tae. I’m not sick of you. Let’s get something to eat after school tomorrow. I don’t have concil.”

“Okay. You promised!”

Taehyung ended the call and you tossed your phone near Hoseok’s direction. You cupped your cheeks to cool down the warmth, but your friend was already chuckling to himself.

“Shut up or else you’re not getting dinner.”

“Okay, okay, y/n. Whatever you say.”

↠↞

Time came and went and you were seeing Hoseok off at your porch. Your mom had always treated Hoseok like a son, so he was welcome to your home anytime. The sun had completely set when he left, but you sat at the stairs of your porch to take in the nighttime breeze. Out of all of things that were stacked on your plate for your senior year, your unrequited feelings for Taehyung was the thing stressing you out the most and you hated it. You already had enough to worry about, feelings shouldn’t be one of them.

You hated knowing Taehyung all your life. You hated knowing his likes and dislikes, the girls he dated, the girls who would ask for his number. It annoyed you how open he was with his life because you knew every single thing about him and vice versa. But the one thing he didn’t know about you was the only thing that could break your friendship.

Even if you hated all of those things, you loved it all. You loved the way Taehyung went to you first when he needed to vent about something. You loved it when he surprises you with a figurine or a hair accessory because it reminded me of you, so I had to get it. He knew how to cheer you up and how to push your buttons. He memorized your coffee order, favorite foods, and knew exactly when it was the time of the month for you.

“Dude, you don’t have to know that.”

“Y/n, I have to. It’s my job.”

You thought that falling in like with a best friend only happened in movies and books, but you were experiencing it first hand. It was emotionally exhausting for you. You once stopped talking to Taehyung for a week to see if it would make things easier, but he wouldn’t leave you alone. He constantly asked you what he did wrong and what he could do to better himself. This resulted in you telling him that you were just feeling emotional during that week and he brought you brownies to make you happy.

“You look like you just went through a bad breakup.”

You couldn’t tell if the universe was working for you or against you because the next thing you knew, Taehyung was walking up your driveway with a plastic bag in one hand.

“I coming bearing gifts!” Taehyung took a seat beside you and dropped the plastic bag in your lap. “My mom’s brownies!”

A smile automatically bloomed across your face because Taehyung knew damn well how much you loved his mother’s baking. Before you could open the bag yourself, he beat you to it by reaching in within a blink of an eye. Right when you were just about to yell at him, he breaks a piece off the delectable square and pushed it past your lips.

“Now tell me, who hurt you?”

“No one, Tae. Just thinking about all of the shit I have to do for school.” You lie in between chews.

“Ah, yes. I can relate. I tend to also stare off into the distance and sadly think about school.” You scoff at his response. You weren’t sure if he was actually sympathizing or mocking you.

“What brings you here?” You asked, breaking another piece off the brownie but instead of eating it, you fed Taehyung.

“Well, I was eating dinner and I saw my mom preparing all of the shit she uses to bake brownies and I was like, ‘yo mom, put some on the side and I’ll drop some off to y/n since she loves your desserts.’” Taehyung casually explained and you couldn’t help but laugh. He always knew how to explain something as simple as that in a humorous tone. As quick as he came, Taehyung stood up and prepared to leave.

“You don’t want to stay?” You asked with a pout you didn’t mean to use.

“Why? You’ll miss me?” He teased and that earned him a light kick to his ankle. “I’m kidding. I have some shit I need to do, so I should head home.”

You stood up and nodded your head. “Alright. Head home safely.”

“See you tomorrow, y/n.” Taehyung smirked and ruffled your hair. You watched him scurry down your driveway and vanish down the street.

Taehyung was an ethereal human being who you were blessed to have as a best friend. But sometimes you thought about how much easier your life would have been if you weren’t best friends. At the same time, he was your sounding board and ride-or-die. He was such an important person in your life and you knew you needed him.

And that’s what scared you the most.

♡ rae jagi

[sadrien]

goodbyes & hellos

on ao3

im so so so late but hey this is for first day of prompt week for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare​!!!! day one: wrong number

this was a lot of fun tbh and ive been dying to write this ship. alyas texts are italicized, adriens are underlined on ao3, just bold here bc tumblrs a butt. shoutout to @reyxa​ for the title <3

enjoy!

Alya narrows her eyes at the new message that lights up her phone. It’s an unknown number that she doesn’t recognize — not that she’s given her number to anyone recently — and it’s also seven in the morning . Anyone how knows her at all should know that she doesn’t wake up before at least nine on the weekends. (And that has nothing to do with the fact that she doesn’t sleep during the week and tends to go to bed after two in the morning.)

She groans as another message shows up on the screen. She squints and lets the messages flow in, figuring she can tell the person they’ve got the wrong number after they’ve finished whatever they have to say. Or she can decide that it’s unimportant and ignore it and go back to sleep.

She likes her second plan the best.

unknown number: Hi!

unknown number: Just wanted to let you know the start time for today has been moved from 10 to 9:15

unknown number: My father has a meeting at 1300 so he wants to get it all done as soon as possible

unknown number: And I know you mentioned wanting to have him on set yesterday

unknown number: I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience! Your agent should be calling you soon, but I thought I’d give you a heads up

Alya squints at the screen. She doesn’t want to care but she’s curious. And curiousity killed the cat and all that but she’s used to letting her nosiness get the best of her.

unknown number: agents???

unknown number: 1st of all srry u have the wrong number

unknown number: 2nd of all were u talking to a movie star or smth???????

unknown number: book writer??

unknown number: what kinda person needs an agent

unknown number: Oh I’m sorry! I must’ve gotten the wrong number from someone

unknown number: I’m really sorry if I was bothering you

Alya rolls her eyes.

unknown number: u woke me up but its chill cause now im curious

unknown number: Curious? About what?

unknown number: way 2 keep avoiding the question

unknown number: ???

unknown number: u said the person u meant to text has an agent

unknown number: how fancy r they

unknown number: Oh! She’s a model!

Alya’s eyes widen. The most famous person she knows is that thirteen year old that was in her school who has ten thousand subscribers on YouTube because she makes lyric videos. The second is a boy who has a few thousand instagram followers because he has nice abs and lots of white boy clothing and muscle shirts.

unknown number: u kno a model????????

unknown number: Uhh

unknown number: I’m not sure how much personal information I should be giving to a stranger

Alya sighs. So close.

unknown number: its fine dude (dude? u good w that? lmk if u arent) i getchu

unknown number: u can just stop responding if u dont wanna talk

She locks her phone and slides it back under her pillow. She stares at the ceiling for a few more minutes, wondering if she’ll be able to fall back asleep. As much as she’d like to take the train back to dreamville, she can’t. Because now she’s awake and now she’s wondering. And once she stops wondering, she doesn’t stop.

She’ll probably stop thinking about this random wrong number in a few days and in a few months, she’ll forget about them entirely but…

Ugh.

Sleep definitely isn’t an option anymore.

Leaving her phone in her bed, she pads to the kitchen, twisting her hair up into a messy bun as she does so. No one is up yet — of course they aren’t, it’s seven on a Saturday and everyone is taking advantage of every precious minute of sleep they can get — so she has the run of the house to herself.

So she makes herself some coffee and a bowl of cereal and turns to television on. Her initial plan is to just leave it on whatever channel that’s playing when she first turns it on, and luckily the twins were the last ones to use it. Saturday morning cartoons. Score.

Alya stirs sugar in her coffee as Cyber Chase plays in the background. It’s not much more than background noise, it’s the middle of an episode and she doesn’t really know what’s happening, but she does snort at a few of the bad jokes.

“You’re up early,” her mom says before dropping a kiss on the top of Alya’s head.

Alya hums. “Got a few text messages and they woke me up.” She notes how her mom purposefully avoids eye contact as she opens a cabinet. Alya rolls her eyes and eats a spoonful of cereal.

“School friends?” her mom asks carefully.

“Yes,” Alya lies. Better than her mom asking more questions. The biggest one being why were you talking to a complete stranger?

“Are you going to see them before we leave?”

Alya glues her eyes to the TV. “If they’re around.”

Her mom makes an unimpressed sound and Alya resists the urge to roll her eyes. She texted a few of her friends the other week, but the conversation was awkward and stilted. They all had the same sort of idea about cutting ties.  

Alya sighs and puts down her spoon, twisting around in her seat to face her mom. “I promise I’m talking to them.”

Her mom gives her that look— the one where her lips purse and a crease between her eyebrows that’s becoming more and more permanent; the one that says she wants to push for more details, but won’t unless they’re volunteered first. Which Alya is not doing, thank you very much. “If you say so, honey,” her mom says, turning her attention to the breakfast she’s making.

Alya stares down into her cereal bowl.

Time to evacuate to her bedroom.

She finishes her cereal as quickly as she can without choking and dumps her bowl and spoon in the sink as she passes it, taking her coffee with her to her room. New plan: curl up in bed with her laptop and hope her mom just leaves her alone until they move.

Alya’s almost forgotten about her phone by the time she flops onto her bed. It vibrates almost as soon as she opens her laptop. She frowns as she pulls it out from under her pillow.

unknown number: Dude is fine for me

unknown number: He/him pronouns please

unknown number: Thanks for asking I really appreciate it, actually

unknown number: People don’t always ask

Plan trashed. This is a better plan.

unknown number: she/her for me

unknown number: and no prob man

unknown number: i wasnt gonna assume ur gender

unknown number: ok that mightve sounded bad but i didnt mean it in a bad way like the ‘lol dont assume my gender’ way jerks do sometime i meant it in like a genuine

unknown number: if u have smth u wanna say u should say it because i am very tired and i can go on for a while

Whoops.

Alya can’t say she’s known for her stellar first impressions but she usually doesn’t ramble her way into an awkward corner. She mindlessly flips through apps as she waits for a response.

unknown number: Don’t worry about it! I didn’t take it the wrong way or anything

Alya smiles to herself as she responds. He keeps leaving her openings which is nice. Based off his initial reaction, she thought he’d shut this down as fast as possible.

She realizes this is probably a little weird. But it’s the most exciting thing to happen to her since school let out so…

unknown number: so whats up stranger??

unknown number: b4 u ask im just sitting in my room doing nothing but text u so thats my morning

unknown number: I actually have work soon, so that’s fun

Alya raises her eyebrows. She forgot age was something else she didn’t know yet.

unknown number: oo work that sounds fun

unknown number: what do u do???

unknown number: I work for my dad, it isn’t anything special

unknown number: But it gives me something to do with my time so I don’t mind that much

unknown number: If I randomly stop responding without warning, that’s why

unknown number: good 2 kno

unknown number: can i ask what u do 4 ur dad or is that 2 personal

unknown number: I uh… I just do whatever he needs me to do

unknown number: I don’t get paid or anything but

unknown number: ay it still works as a resume builder

unknown number: Yeah exactly!

unknown number: thats cool that ur dad can get u a job!! my mom and dad could never w their jobs so i just suffer

unknown number: not that thats any different from what i would do anyway as a teenager

Alright, perfect. She’s brought up the age question in a really clunky and awkward way. Better than nothing.

unknown number: Oh how old are you?

unknown number: I’m 15

Alya lets out a sigh of relief.

unknown number: ayy same!

unknown number: just ur fav teenage superhero blogger

unknown number: doing nothing with her life

unknown number: You like superheroes?

unknown number: yeah!! i love comic books. you??

unknown number: I don’t have time to read many but yeah! I’ve always loved Spiderman

unknown number: wonder woman is my g i r l

unknown number: superheroes are just so cool

She waits a few minutes before she decides that he must have gone off to work. Bonding over superheroes, that’s good. A shared interest. She scrolls through their conversation, rereading some of the earlier messages before she creates a contact for him. She makes the name ‘stranger’ and leaves it at that.

It’s not like they’re meeting up or anything. Even if he is an ax murderer, can’t kill her if she never sends him her location.

Alya spends the next couple of hours avoiding her mom as much as possible. She takes her sisters to the park and then goes to the library after she brings them home.

She doesn’t want to talk about it.

She’s clicking through a webcomic that she missed a few weeks worth of updates when her phone buzzes. She glances down, expecting it to be a text from her mom asking if she has any plans or to do chores or something, but is pleasantly surprised to see a message from her stranger.

stranger: Sorry about that, work ran long

stranger: Admittedly, I don’t know very much about Wonder Woman, but she looks very awesome

unknown number: !!!!

unknown number: when ive got more time remind me to tell u all abou t her

unknown number: and to rec some comic books even if u dont have time

stranger: Is she your favorite?

Alya sits back in her chair. This conversation is going to be a long one.

Alya finds herself randomly texting her stranger for the next few days. He doesn’t always respond quickly, but he responds eventually, no matter how weird her original message.

That’s more than she can say for most of her friends.

She texts him as she’s sitting on the counter in her kitchen, stirring a pot.

unknown number: hey stranger whats up

stranger: Just reading, you?

unknown number: making box mac n cheese

stranger: Sounds fun

unknown number: yeah im gonna eat it straight from the pot

The three dots bounce on the screen as the stranger takes his time with the next message. Alya snorts and turns off the stove, straining the pasta and moving to the fridge to find butter and cheese. He’s found his words by the time she’s letting the butter melt in the pot.

stranger: Straight from the pot? Why?

unknown number: because i live life on the edge

unknown number: and also because im too lazy to clean the dish later

stranger: You know what? That’s fair

Sometimes, Alya thinks that she probably shouldn’t think about someone who she doesn’t even know the name of as often as she does, let alone text him as much as she does. But sometimes she’ll see something, and she’ll immediately think of him. Or she’ll just be randomly upset and feel the strong urge to pick up the phone and see if he’s available to vent to.

She knows it’s kind of weird, but she can’t help herself.

One night, at around two in the morning, she finds herself messaging him.

unknown number: hey did i ever mention i was moving

She’s almost asleep, slightly more okay than she was before she sent the text, when he responds.

stranger: You haven’t but we also don’t talk about where we live

Alya stares at the screen for a long moment, the bright light in the darkness making everything on the screen blur into nothing. She just feels kind of numb.

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: like 8 hours away from where i live now

stranger: Wow that’s a big move

unknown number: yeah

stranger: I’m guessing you don’t want to go?

unknown number: not really

unknown number: did u know ur my only friend right now

stranger: I am?

unknown number: me and my other friends sort of cut ties

stranger: The internet exists

stranger: Phones exist

stranger: FaceTime and Skype both kind of suck, but they exist

unknown number: yeah i guess

unknown number: i guess its just too hard for any of us to try

stranger: I have no idea how far apart we live

stranger: We’re doing just fine

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: yeah ur right

One of Alya’s small comforts that comes to mind whenever she thinks about moving is the fact that she’ll have her phone on her and a portable charger. Her stranger will be with her every step of the way.

He’d managed to get her to talk to some of her friends. She doesn’t really think it’ll last once she’s in Paris, but the attempt is nice. And it gives her other people to talk to for the rest of the summer.

It’s too early in the morning when they leave for the last time for her to get really emotional about moving. All she has the energy to do is to take a picture of her old apartment, caption it ‘one last goodbye to marseille’, and save it before sending it to her friends over Snapchat. Before she falls asleep against the car window, she texts it to her stranger.

She wakes up to a new text among the goodbyes from her friends.

stranger: Have a nice car ride! I’ll let you know when I get back from work <3

Alya hides her smile from her sisters and screenshots the text for later.

She texts him from the floor of her new bedroom while her dad starts moving boxes. They’ve been in the process of moving for a while now, shipping most of their things to Paris beforehand. Now all that remains is the actual unpacking.

Alya doesn’t have the energy for that. She just lays on the floor and stares at the ceiling for a while. Then she picks up her phone and sends him a text.

It’s been about an hour since they last talked. She’d talked to him for a good majority of the car ride, only stopping when he was busy and ending the conversation when they arrived so she could get her things out of the car and help her sisters with theirs. She’d sent him a picture of her empty bedroom and said ‘let the unpacking begin :P’. He’d responded with a ‘Good luck!!’ and ‘I’ll let you get to work!’

Alya’s thumb hovers over the send button for a few seconds. She’s never really pushed him for any sort of personal information before.

New city, new Alya. Or something.

unknown number: hey just wondering

unknown number: what do u have me in ur phone as??

unknown number: i have u in here as stranger

stranger: Your contact name?

stranger: Uh awkward but you don’t?

stranger: You’re the only one I just have the number for, so I know who you are that way

Alya reads his texts a few times before she responds. She doesn’t know what she expects in return, but she figures she has nothing to lose.

unknown number: im alya

unknown number: in case u were wondering

stranger: Hi Alya

stranger: I’m Adrien