#but hey I mean getting unreasonably mad at your friends not responding to your texts is hella relatable sue me for wanting an episode abt it

[tentacle-therapissed]

I don’t think I’ve seen Anyone talk about the fact that Logan’s infamous Orange outburst had a double meaning.

Pay attention to the frames that we see literally right before Logan yells ‘stop ignoring me!’

Thomas checks the messages he sent to Nico for the millionth time that day to find them still unanswered, and there’s a close up of his eyes narrowing.

‘Stop ignoring me’ wasn’t just something Logan was saying to Remus. It was something Thomas himself was thinking at that exact moment, about Nico. It’s why he jumps back in surprise when Nico immediately FaceTimes him (as if Nico somehow heard his thought and complied), and at that moment the orange fades from Logan’s eyes.

I think this means Remus’s line “Who do you really want to scream that at?” could also have a double meaning. The straightforward answer is that Logan wants to yell at Thomas to stop ignoring him. But there’s a second answer too— that the Orange side wanted to yell at Nico to stop ignoring him.

I’m a firm believer that Orange represents something akin to anger/rage/wrath, and this kinda just strengthens my theory. While Orange is obviously very intertwined with Logan’s feelings, he is of course still ultimately a representation of Thomas’s own state of mind. Right now, Thomas’s anger just seems to be manifesting through Logan for reasons yet unknown.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hey look it’s chap 2! They won’t all come out today I promise.

(Also the other characters tagged appear later in this chapter after the :readmore: this isn’t cross tagged for publicity purposes)

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

-------------------------

After school, Dream, George, and Sapnap tossed their bags into Techno’s trunk. Technically, he and Dream did have PowerPoint projects to complete, but it was a solo project and he already finished it at lunch.

Snagging the shotgun seat, Sapnap cheered, “To the mall!”

Techno grimaced. At least Sapnap was excited.

Actually, there was one good thing that came from them: friendship. Techno had met Dream at one of these mall fights while they went to different middle schools, then they ended up at the same high school and started to drag Dream’s other friends to them. Techno didn’t mind George and Sapnap, they were just more Dream’s friends than his.

Techno drove them out of the city, and they cruised down the highway for twenty minutes before pulling off to the exit towards the abandoned mall.

“I’ve never understood why this shit happens right after school,” George said.

Dream answered him, “It’s because the cops think this stuff happens at night. They don’t think to look for this stuff during the day.”

“Plus, there’s a lot more of the other stuff going on, so they’re busy.”

“Why do you know that, Sapnap?”

“Reasons.”

Techno rolled his eyes at the trio, and pulled the first aid kit and his backpack out of the trunk. “I’m gonna stay in the car today.” He handed the box to George. “Math homework due tomorrow,” he explained.

“Ah man. That’s too bad,” Dream said, stretching out his arms. “More practice for me.”

“Maybe you’ll even beat me next time,” Techno joked.

Dream wheezed, and Sapnap had to push him away towards the building.

Techno got back in his car, cranked the radio, and blasted the AC, shutting the windows tight. Throwing the bag into the seat next to him, Techno pulled out his binder, and opened it to a fresh piece of graph paper. Study time lasted all of forty minutes before the sirens rang out.

“Snitch,” he muttered to himself. He slumped down in his seat, and pulled out his phone. He debated who to text before deciding that George was least likely to be busy at any given moment.

Techno Got snitched Cops in lot

George Fuck Dream says leave Drop our stuff at Bad’s Drop Tubbo with Punz

Techno Roger

A squad of four cars descended on the parking lot. Most of the officers stormed the mall, but three stayed behind. Two began making their rounds around the parking lot, but--of course--the other was left behind to secure the entrance. It was standard procedure, so Techno wasn’t very surprised to see this happening.

Techno made the decision to continue doing his homework rather than try to get away. He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and turned the radio off.

He was calm. He was cool. He was doing his math homework. He was rolling down the window when prompted by a tap on the glass.

“Captain Craft,” the officer stated.

“Pleasure,” Techno responded.

“License and registration.”

Techno grabbed his wallet from his backpack and gave Captain Craft his license. He leaned over to the glove box to grab his car’s registration. “Afternoon Sir,” he muttered, handing over his paperwork.

“Techno Blade? Unique name.”

Techno snorted at the officer’s attempt at small talk. “Was born with it, I'm afraid.”

“That’s cool.” He handed Techno back his paperwork. “What are you doing here?”

Techno gestured to the paper in his lap. “Homework. Got a calculus test next week.”

“Smart kid.” Captain Craft was writing things down in his notebook. “Do you know why the police were called to this location?”

“No Sir.”

“What brings you here?”

“A quiet space to work, the foster home gets really loud. Normally this place is empty.”

“Normally it is,” Captain Craft agreed. “So you don’t know anything about a potential drug deal?”

The surprise on Techno’s face was genuine. Yeah this was an illegal ring, but drug deals? Really? “No Sir. I’m just doing my homework.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” Techno said, not playing the officer’s game.

Captain Craft leaned back to look at the backseat.

Techno had never been more thankful that Dream, Sapnap, and George liked throwing their stuff in the trunk for more leg room in the backseat.

Captain Craft patted the car. “Well. I feel comfortable letting you go free kid. Clearly you have nothing to do with this.”

“No Sir.”

“Techno Blade was it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Do you have a number we could potentially call if need be?”

Now, Techno would have loved to give the officer his home number--giving the police a direct line of contact with his cell didn’t sound good--but that was a horrible idea. One of the other kids would pick up the phone, and they’d talk. Or the Foster Bitch would pick up, and she’d just cuss out the poor person who called. “Yeah. Let me get you my cell number.”

Captain Craft scribed the number down in his notebook. He flipped the page and ripped off the next page. “Doctor’s note to get you out of the parking lot.”

Techno snorted as he grabbed the paper. “Thanks.”

Techno shifted the car into reserve and pulled out of his parking spot. He drove towards the checkpoint and didn’t roll up the window until the officer standing guard approved his departure.

Techno arrived at Sapnap and Bad’s house. He pulled into the parking spot in the apartment’s garage that Bad paid for, so Sapnap’s friends could leave their cars when they came over. He grunted in annoyance at the weight of the three backpacks; there also wasn’t a convenient way to carry three backpacks. He rode the elevator up to the first floor and buzzed Bad’s apartments.

“Who’s there?” Bad’s voice crackles through the intercom.

“Techno, I’m here for delivery and pickup.”

Bad laughed.. “Hi Techno, they’re in the middle of something so it’ll be a little while.” The buzzer sounds and Techno steps into the room, taking the elevator to Bad’s floor, which was unreasonably high. How was Sapnap supposed to climb through the window late at night at this height?

Although Techno was required to have someone buzz him in, he conveniently had his own key for the door, and could use that. Techno couldn’t be bothered to remember which room was Sapnap’s, but he knew where the guest room was, so he tossed all their stuff in there.

“Hi Bad. Have any snacks?” Techno asked, entering the kitchen. Mario Kart sounds floated over from the living room. “It’s time to go home!” Techno called out to the kids.

“Why?” Tommy yelled back.

“Because. Also Tubbo, Dream said that I’m dropping you off with Purpled at Punz’s place.”

“Oh.” Techno could hear the way Tubbo’s face fell. “He got into something again?”

Techno took the plate of sandwiches from Bad and brought them out to the boys. He gave Tubbo a tight smile. “Apparently, but he’ll be fine.”

Once the boys finished their game--Ranboo won--they all bid Bad adieu and head back for Techno’s car. The boys and their backpacks file in. Tommy sat up front; Tubbo situated himself on the middle hump, and Purpled and Ranboo arranged their legs accordingly.

He let the boys karaoke on the way to Punz’s place. They were very loud, but it helps that he didn’t have to worry about where he was going, as he is far more familiar with these streets than he would have liked to be.

Techno pulls into the driveway. “Get out.”

“Thanks for the drive Blade!” Tubbo said, following Purpled out of the backseat.

“Good luck!” Ranboo yelled after them, stretching his legs into the newfound space he had at his disposal.

“Stay safe!” Tommy shouted, only half joking. “Let’s get out of here.”

Techno pulled out of the area once Tubbo and Purpled had made it into the house. He then drove them out of the slums to the richer areas of the city where Ranboo lived. He parked the car in Ranboo’s cul de sac.

“This is my stop,” Ranboo said lowly.

“This is your stop.” After a few minutes of silence Techno spoke again. “You gonna get out?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Ranboo opened the door. “Thanks for the ride!” He pushed it shut once outside and walked up the lawn to his manor.

Tommy waved goodbye to his friend then turned to look straight ahead. “Let’s go back now.”

“Are you still mad at me for hanging out with Dream?”

Tommy didn’t respond.

Techno pressed on the gas and brought the car back to the main road. “I’m allowed to have friends, kid. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Then stop. Stop defending yourself. You don’t need my approval.”

“When did you get older than me?”

“When you started hanging out with kids who get put in the newspaper for petty crimes!”

“I’ve been hanging out with Dream since long before you even got here.”

“And? People change. Little Dream isn't big Dream!”

“I know who my friends are,” Techno bit.

“I hope you do. Because Tubbo is having a sleepover with Purpled which means Dream isn’t home. And you were there. So what happened?”

All of Techno’s pent up energy left his body, and he fell into a steely expression. “Nothing.”

“Something happened! Why isn’t Dream home?”

Techno turned on the radio.

“Tell me bitch boy!”

“Do you want to eat tonight?” Techno shouted back at him, turning to face him directly now that they were stopped at a red light.

Tommy’s eyes were wide. He had one hand on his seat belt buckle and one on the door handle. He was as pressed away from Techno as he could get in the car. He was holding his breath and his body was tense. “Please,” he whimpered.

Techno tensed up as well. He had gone too far. He knew he had gone too far. That wasn’t cool playing on Tommy’s fears like that. “Tommy--”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up. Please. I know it’s your stash. Please.”

“Tommy.” The light turned green. “We’ve been over this. My stash is your stash.”

Tommy mutely shook his head, refusing to reply.

Internally sighing, Techno tapped his finger on the side of the steering wheel, his brain working hard. He should have known not to say that with Tommy, but of course he had to mess up again.

The car behind them honked its horn loudly, jerking Techno out of his thoughts. He lifted his foot from the brake, and placed it down on the gas, accelerating forwards, and allowing the long line of traffic behind him to go.

Tommy still hadn't spoken, but was shaking slightly, and it wasn't because he was cold.

“My stash is your stash,” Techno reiterated, if only to fill the silence.

“No it’s not,” Tommy said in a small voice. “You keep saying it is, but it’s not.”

“Then steal from my stash to make your own stash. You’ve done that before.”

“Not from people I need to like me.”

Techno stopped looking at Tommy in hopes he would calm down slightly. “I do like you,” he reassured. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t be trying to convince you that we share a stash.”

Tommy fiddled with the radio stations and made a noncommittal sound of what Techno pretended was agreement.

Techno and Tommy spent the rest of the ride home in silence, Techno glancing at Tommy out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

When they arrived home, Techno put the car in park, and undid his seatbelt, but made no move to get out of the car. Twisting his neck, he looked Tommy in the eyes.

Techno knew what Tommy needed to hear, even if he hated having to need to say it. “You can eat tonight. Grab whatever you want from my stash.”

“Really?” Tommy asked more hopefully than Techno was comfortable with.

“Yeah.”

Tommy then bolted out of the car, as if to make sure he did the thing while he had permission before it was taken away abruptly.

Which Techno would never do. Techno was feeling like shit playing on Tommy’s insecurities to get him to shut up. That wasn’t cool and he knew that. Techno slowly pulled himself out of the car. He grabbed his backpack, and the one Tommy had left in his haste.

Walking slowly to the house, Techno gave Tommy some time to settle in before entering their shared space. Yes he generally wished that Tommy was quieter after 10pm, but tonight it would be for the wrong reasons.

At least Tommy didn’t seem to think Techno was about to hit him.

[kuroopaisen]

hi!! may i request for a headcanon to how oikawa would react after reuniting with his childhood friend turned fake ex-girlfriend after how many years at a common friend's wedding and to his shock he still likes her? thank you!

okay so i know you asked for a headcanon but i got carried away so,,, if you’d like me to redo it, please let me know. and this got a little angstier than i expected slkjfd

- admin rowan  

truth be told, oikawa hadn’t envisioned himself attending a wedding at the tail end of his uni years. why anyone would be getting married before graduating was beyond him. but sure enough, he and iwaizumi were standing a scant few feet away from the doorway of a church, about to seek out yahaba and give him their congratulations. 

“how do i look, iwa? do i look dashing enough?”

“shut up.”

“but i need to make sure i look my best for my re-debut. some of these people haven’t seen me in a few years, you know.”

“this isn’t about you,” iwaizumi said, looking over his shoulder. “it’s too late, anyway. we’re already here.” 

oikawa pursed his lips, trying to think of something to say in response. frankly, he was nervous. 

“don’t chicken out.”

“i’m not going to!” oikawa whined, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. 

why was he so nervous? sure, he hadn’t seen some of these guys since high school, and he certainly hadn’t spoken to a few of them since that final match with karasuno. but that was long since past. and yahaba surely wanted him there, despite everything. 

was it because yahaba of all people was getting married, while he hadn’t been able to maintain a consistent relationship all throughout his uni years? was that why he felt so off? 

“it’ll be fine.” iwaizumi was looking at him with the slightest of frowns. he spoke with such a gruff sense of surety that only he could pull off. 

“i know that,” oikawa huffed, running a hand through his hair. 

god, this was so unlike him. 

“then stop acting like a damn coward.”

“iwa-”

“and behave yourself.” 

“you don’t have to be so mean to me,” oikawa whined, his shoulders slumping. he took another step towards the door. 

there were more people than he’d anticipated – and he didn’t recognise most of them. he still wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. how long did weddings go for again? was he expected to stick around and socialise? he might’ve, on any other day — but something was just off. 

“ceremony’s about to start,” iwaizumi mumbled. 

oikawa took a quick moment to scan the room, looking for the least conspicuous seats. the less people who spoke to him, the better. 

a flash of teal caught his eye. he looked again, frowning. huh. who was that? they were too far away for him to get a better look at — and his contacts weren’t as strong as he would’ve liked them to be — and he could only catch the profile of their face. and yet…

“sit down.” iwaizumi pushed him towards one of the benches. 

“you don’t need to push me,” oikawa pouted. 

“then stop spacing out,” iwaizumi grunted, sitting himself down. 

oikawa sighed, settling himself into his seat. 

it really was a lovely ceremony. the bride looked stunning in her dress – pure white, and embellished with appliques –, and yahaba was positively glowing. 

but try as he might, he couldn’t stop his gaze from flitting over to that person in teal. it wasn’t unreasonable to assume they’d attended aobajohsai; how else would he know someone invited to yahaba’s wedding? and yet, there was more to it than that. something more familiar.  

this was going to drive him crazy. 

“hey, iwa?”

“what do you want?”

“that person over there,” he said, trying to point as subtly as he could, “do you know who that is?” 

“you don’t?” 

“should i?” oikawa frowned. “they seem so familiar, but i just can’t put my finger on it.”

“you’re such an idiot.”

oikawa gaped at him. he was used to iwaizumi being blunt, but usually such abrasive assessments had cause. “i haven’t even done anything wrong!”

“you seriously don’t remember?” iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at him. 

oikawa tilted his head at him. 

“good grief,” iwaizumi sighed, rubbing his temple. “come here.”

“wh–”

iwaizumi grabbed him by the wrist and stormed off. oikawa opened his mouth to protest, but it was much too late. iwaizumi led them through the small throng of people, marching with such distinct purpose that oikawa couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he was going to die. 

“hey.” iwaizumi had stopped abruptly, causing oikawa to stumble. standing in front of them was that person in teal. shit, did he know them? was he about to make a fool of himself by not remembering their name? was this about to get really, really awkward? 

the person in teal looked between the two of them, eyes wide and round for just a moment. 

“oh!” the stood up a little straighter, a smile starting to spread across their face. “hey guys.” 

oh shit. 

a childhood spent together, running around a backyard and chasing balls down the street. a constant cheerleader at his volleyball games, screaming from the stand with all their might. someone to temper iwaizumi’s rage at the best of times, and to make him smile at the worst. someone to tend to oikawa’s wounds, physical or otherwise, when he’d been overworking himself. 

how could he forget you? 

“hi,” oikawa did his best to smile, but he knew it would look vacuous. insincere as always, even though he knew you deserved better.

hell, you deserved better than what he’d given you. 

he could barely remember his reasoning for making such a stupid request. 

things had been fine until third year. great, even. he’d even had a girlfriend for the first few months, before he was mercilessly dumped for being ‘too obsessed with volleyball’. you were the person he’d turned to for support. you’d expected it, for the most part – he spent most of his day practicing, and the scant free time he did have was usually spent with you and iwaizumi. she’d spoken to you before it had happened; telling you that she wasn’t mad, she was just jealous. 

it was around then that he asked you to ‘date’ him. you’d been bemused – and on reflection, rightfully so. you felt bad about his girlfriend, about lying to everyone, about not being convincing. oikawa had been adamant that it’d be fine. nothing would change, right?

“how’ve you been?” you asked, looking between the two of them. “still playing volleyball together?”

“unfortunately.” 

“iwa!” oikawa whined, forgetting himself for a second. “but you said all those nice things to me in third year!”

“that was before i knew we were going to the same uni.” 

it had been okay, for a while. holding hands felt normal enough. he’d gotten used to giving you a kiss on the cheek or the forehead. and he liked it a little more than he should. people believed it. even iwaizumi had been fooled, at first. he’d even grouched that oikawa should’ve done something sooner. oikawa had barely understood it at the time, dumb and eighteen. these days, he knew exactly what iwaizumi had been talking about. 

“are you in your final year?” you asked, hands clasped behind your back. 

“don’t remind me,” oikawa mumbled. 

things took a turn for the worst a few months before graduation. the details were hazy, but one evening stood out with such startling clarity that he was sure he’d never forget it. 

you’d been walking around town after school, just the two of you. he’d been getting antsy back then; he wanted to spend more time with you, and he didn’t understand why. he’d also taken to holding your hand, even when no-one was around to see it. he knew now that it was because he was in love with you, but he hadn’t comprehended that at the time. 

you were just his scrappy childhood friend, not someone he could see himself in a genuine relationship with. things were too comfortable, too easy with you for that; your presence in his life expected much more than it was cherished. 

maybe that’s why it had happened. 

that evening, he’d kissed you. he’d walked you home as the sun set, spewing some bullshit about his future. he spoke with a confidence only beget to teenagers, and he hadn’t let you get a word in edgeways. and once you’d stopped in front of your house, he leant in and kissed you. 

he still didn’t know what compelled him to do that. it must’ve made sense to him at the time — maybe he was stupid enough to believe that the relationship was real. maybe it was his way of trying to tell you about that tangled mess of emotions that was rattling around inside of him. maybe he’d hoped you’d understand what he really felt, like you always did. 

but you cried. you looked at him, eyes glassy, and called him an asshole. 

you’d slammed the door before he’d had time to respond.

you ignored his texts, and you weren’t picking up his calls. he’d tried to ask iwaizumi, but he’d just told him he was stupid. no matter what he tried, you wouldn’t reach back over the gulf. 

next thing he knew, you were all graduating. graduation day was the first time you’d interacted with him in ages; you’d obstinately taken a few photos with him and iwaizumi, seemingly for your parents’ sake. as hard as he tried, he couldn’t look back on those photos and pretend you were happy to be standing next to him. he could see it in your smile. 

it wasn’t the one you were giving him now — full and joyful, adding a bit more shine to your eyes. you were happy to see him. 

he bit the inside of his cheek. why did his head feel so hot? he hadn’t even had anything to drink yet. 

you and iwaizumi were still talking. oikawa hadn’t even noticed that he’d zoned out of the conversation — what if you thought he was rude? what if you thought he hadn’t changed? 

you laughed. 

fuck. 

his heart stirred like it had all those years ago. like when you told him you believed in him, no matter what, while looking up at you with eyes so full of determination and belief that he didn’t know how to respond. like when you’d bandaged his fingers so gently and tenderly after he’d overworked himself in solo practice. like when you’d held him and called him tooru after that last match with karasuno. 

you’d think four years would be long enough to get over someone, he thought. but it seemed like life wasn’t ready to let him forget his mistakes. 

maybe it was because he was lonely. maybe it was because he’d missed you more than he’d thought possible. maybe it was because he hadn’t had even a single successful relationship in uni. 

he wanted nothing more than to take your hand and apologise. there was so much he wanted to say to you – so much he wanted to explain. but it had been four years. 

this was too much. 

“i, uh, i’m going to go and get something to drink,” he said, looking between the two of them. you and iwaizumi stared back at him, faint surprise laced in your expressions. why, he didn’t know. he turned on his heels, the faint buzzing in his chest getting harder and harder to bear. 

a hand gripped the cuff of his sleeve. 

“tooru?” 

his breath hitched. 

“i missed you.” 

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home (Gavin Reed x Reader)

Chapter 2

Read: Chapter 1 here!

         I had just left my apartment a little after 11 am and started walking towards the university. I couldn’t help but to think about lunch yesterday. I was surprised how well it went; my dad seems like a totally different person from when I last saw him. Connor has been really good for him, almost like a son and Connor seemed to look up to him like a father figure. As I walked towards my office, I wondered if that meant eventually, I would think of Connor as a brother.

         I walked into the Faculty Administration Building and up two floors to reach my office. As I got closer to my office I noticed Nines was standing patiently outside the door.

         “Oh! Nines, if I knew you were waiting, I would have come sooner!” I rushed over to the door and unlocked it. I walked in and he followed.

         “I wasn’t waiting long, Dr. (L/n).” I sat at my desk and gestured for him to sit across from me.

         “Nines, please you can call me (Y/n). I really prefer it.” He nodded. “So, what can I do for you?”

         “I wanted to talk about one of your earlier papers. You wrote a piece about the Stanford Prison Experiment and how you didn’t believe, at the time, the results would be any different with androids. However, deviancy wasn’t a known problem. I’m quite curious on how you reached that conclusion.” Nines leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees.

         “Wow, that is an old paper. That was one of my first in grad school, I’m surprised you found it. Well, Zimbardo found that regular college students in the role of the guards allowed power to go to their heads and they mistreated the ‘prisoners’ even though they were all very similar. I mention this in the paper, but I do think it would depend on the type of android and if everyone in the simulation is an android or if some are human. For example, if the guards were all AX400 models and the prisoners are human, I don’t believe we would get the same results. However, let’s say we remove the androids LEDs and mix them with humans, where the humans don’t know who is human or android and there’s a varying mix between each group in the role of the guards and the role of the prisoner, we would get the same results. Even without deviancy, the androids would know who is human and who isn’t, so if they are in the role of the guard, they would follow the lead of the others. On the other side, androids who were not deviant would comply with any mistreatment and therefore wouldn’t fight back from the guards.” Glancing at Nines, his stare was extremely intense and made me a little nervous. I’ve had to defend my papers to a lot of different individuals, in and out of academia, but never had to do so in a one on one conversation like this. 

         “What about now? If you could run the experiment?” He asked.

         “Well, I wouldn’t. The Stanford Prison experiment was highly unethical and did a lot of damage to the psyche of many of the participants. I wouldn’t cause that pain on humans or androids. Hypothetically speaking, I believe the results we would get would be the same as Zimbardo’s. Especially now, many androids have removed their LED and it’s sometimes difficult to pick out androids versus humans in a line up.”

         “What if they were all androids?”

         “Well, if this is before deviancy, I would say nothing out of the ordinary would happen. But today we do have android on android crime, so it’s reasonable to assume that similar emotions will arise from Zimbardo’s experiment.”

         “Yes, that makes sense.” Nines nodded and leaned back, seeming content with my answers for now.

         “I’m glad I could answer those questions for you. May I ask you one?” He paused for a few seconds before answering.

         “That seems fair.”

         “Why are you curious about this?”

         “It’s simple really. You’re one of the few people in academia who write about androids and more specifically android behavior. You’ve also been studying this the longest out of anyone I’ve seen, and you approach the subject objectively which can be hard to come by. It’s part of my job to understand human and android behavior and I would consider you an expert on the topic.”

         “Well, I don’t know how many of my peers would agree that I’m objective when it comes to my research, but it seems to come with the territory. What prompted you to come visit me so soon?”   

         “Detective Reed takes his lunch break from 11 to 12:15, since I don’t eat, I normally sit in the precinct. Recently Captain Fowler has asked me to actually leave the building for my break like Connor. For some reason, I think it upsets him seeing me sit there and not move. If it is alright with you, may I visit again tomorrow during this time?”

         “I don’t see why not, but Nines we don’t have to only talk about sociology. I would like to get to know you too.” Looking at him I noticed he barely turned his head, if I hadn’t been looking at him there’s no way I would have noticed. I wonder if he picked that up from Connor or if it was in both of their programming?

         “I’ve told you, I’m the RK900 model and I work with Detective Reed at the Detroit Police Department.” I sighed.

         “How about this, for every sociology question you ask me, I get to ask you something in return. About you or your opinion on something?” Nines looked at me unblinking for about thirty seconds before finally answering.

         “That seems fair. Do you have a question now?” I tried hiding my smile from him, it was always so rewarding to get androids who have stuck to their programming, despite being deviant, to talk about themselves.

         “Do you like working for the DPD?” I asked.

         “Of course, it’s what I was made to do.”

         “Yes, but do you LIKE working for the DPD?”

         “I don’t understand the difference you’re trying to get me to make.”

         “If you could work at a different police department, would you?”

         “No. The city has a high number of cases to solve and as difficult as he can be, working with Detective Reed is another challenge that has been interesting to solve.”

         “What do you mean?”

         “Well, when we were first partnered, he refused to even discuss cases with me. Overtime he’s seemed to warm up, maybe because I can finish both of our case paperwork in less than an hour. However, I have noticed unlike Connor and Lieutenant Anderson, Detective Reed doesn’t get upset with me when I use my forensics kit. He doesn’t like androids, but I think he prefers me to Connor.”

         “Well, Connor did knock him out apparently.” I said with a smile and I swore Nines’ lips twitched for a second as if he was going to smile.

         “Detective Reed will be returning from lunch soon.” Nines said while standing up, “I need to return to the precinct before he does.”

         “Does he get mad at you if he has to wait on you?”

         “No. However, it is easier to tease him about being late rather than teasing him for being on time.” I couldn’t help but laugh at Nines comment.

         “Before you go, here’s my card. It has my email, school phone, and my cell phone. In case you have any pressing questions. Please send me a message, so if something happens and I cannot make it before one of our meetings I can let you know.” Nines nodded and his LED flashed yellow.

         “I sent you a message. Have a good day Dr…. I mean (Y/n).” He said turning towards the door.

         “You too Nines! I look forward to our conversation tomorrow!” As Nines left, I relaxed in my chair. With this new job, many of my coworkers seemed hesitant to talk to me about my research, maybe they believed I was too radical. It felt nice having someone ask questions about my work and to show a genuine interest. I looked at my cell phone and giggled at his message.

          This is Nines, the RK900 android that works at the DPD

          Part of me wanted to poke fun at him, because of course I would know it was him, but I didn’t want to alienate him in any way. I looked at my other text messages to see what else I had missed during my walk and conversation with Nines.

          Hey! Me and some people from the precinct are going to get drinks at Jimmy’s bar around 7pm. Do you want to come? I think Connor’s going. Hank’s been trying to get him to hang out with people his “own age”.

          I bite my lip, I have been wanting to hang out with Tina, but I don’t know if I’m ready for questions on why I disappeared. I looked at my phone and decided to text Connor first.

          Hey, are you going to Jimmy’s tonight? Tina invited me and said you may be coming?

          Connor immediately responded.

          Lieutenant Anderson is forcing me to go. He said he was going to lock me outside the house until it was an “unreasonable time to be home”. Do you know what that means?

          Haha yeah. He wants you to hang out with other people, I guess. Branch out and make some friends. If you want, I can go with you and if it’s lame, we can just walk around and tell my dad we spent the whole time at the bar. 

          Yes, I think if you were there it may be better. I’ve tried going before, but I was the only android. I believe I made Detective Reed uncomfortable with my presence since I can’t drink, and he believes I record every conversation.

 Alright, well Jimmy’s is closer to the precinct, so I’ll meet you there around 6:45?

 Are you alright walking here alone? It would be no trouble for me to come to the university or your apartment first.

 It’ll be okay. It’s a short walk! I’ll see you at 6:45 in the lobby!

 Okay.

 I sighed gently, I had to go now. There was certainly no backing out now, unless I wanted to hurt Connor’s feelings. I swiped back to Tina’s message.

 I’ll be there.

[floatingpetals]

Boys in Blue || Pt. 10

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, PTSD/ Panic attacks, sad buckys sad

Word Count: 3000+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: Posting this suppperr late at night, but I finally got this chapter how I wanted it! Huzzah! I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated this, so to all you who are sticking around to see how this goes THANK YOU!!! I hope you all enjoy this part, let me know what you think! Enjoyy! 

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Series Masterlist

“Hey, Sarge!”

Bucky’s paused mid-type and glanced over his shoulder. He let out a sigh and nodded to the Sam before returning back to the report in front of him. The chair next to his desk scratched against the floor, causing Bucky to flinch at the harsh sound. Sam plopped himself in the vacant seat and leaned back to watch Bucky type away.

“Hey, Sam.” He mumbled. There was a snort in reply that was less than amused with Bucky’s half-assed greet.

“Oh come on. That’s all I get when you’ve been gone for six weeks?” Sam teased. Leaning his elbow against the desk, Sam rolled his eyes. “Thought we were better friends than that.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, willing some of the tension to slip from his shoulders. It wasn’t that he was irritated with Sam per se. His morning was off to a rough start after learning he wasn’t going to be allowed back on patrol anytime soon if he wasn’t willing to agree to the terms. Naturally, Bucky refused. Which meant none other than desk duty until he could suck it up. Steve already gave him an ear full, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Sorry, Sam.” He said with a heavy exhale. “Just not in the mood today.”

“When are you not?” Sam snorted. When he didn’t get a return quip, his face dropped the smirk and smoothed over with a serious expression. He could sense the shift in Bucky’s moods, catching on that this wasn’t the time. “Hey man, I know you and I joke around, but I just want you to know if you ever need to talk with anyone I’m here. I’ve never been shot before, but I know can’t be easy to go through that.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, his jaw tensing at the thought. However, he slowly started to nod, feeling a tad lighter knowing Sam cared a little. It didn’t mean he was going to take him up on the offer, but it was a nice sentiment. It appeared enough to appease Sam; he clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder stopping short with Bucky’s wince.

“Still sore, huh?” He asked. Bucky grumbled and nodded, rolling his shoulder to alleviate the tension. “Welp. Don’t expect special treatment. You already got that with your girl back home.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to snort, shaking his head at Sam as he stood. Sam started to walk away, but not with it out turning around to walk backward and point a finger directly at Bucky. Amused, Bucky watched as he almost tripped over an open box by Natasha’s desk in the process. She shot him a disgruntled look and grabbed it out of the way before he could crush the files.

“I’m serious. I’m not gonna let you get all soft because of this.”

“Alright Sam,” Bucky laughed, waving his annoying but thoughtful coworker away. Turning back to his desk, Bucky’s eyes landed on the folder with the conditions to his return. His eyes turned dark. 

Snatching the folder off the desk, he shoved them into a drawn and all but slammed it shut. The simmer of irritation grew again, replaying the conversation he had with Captain Fury and then Steve right after. It just wasn’t fair. He didn’t need to have the therapy as they wanted. Why did he need to do that?

A throat cleared behind him. He tensed, feeling daggers being thrown his way. Slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Natasha stared at him with a brow raised, her lips pulled down into a disproving frown. Sheepishly, he waved over his shoulder and spun around to his desk with blazing cheeks. Alright, so mental note to keep his irritation in check. Sucking in a deep breath, Bucky started back with his reports, biting back a groan.

“So I tried to convince him it’s what he needed and that if he wanted to get back on patrol, he just needed to get it done,” Steve stated hotly, waving his beer glass around as he paced in front of the television and explained the day he had to Y/N. She sat on the couch, her legs curled up under and watched him sadly pace back and forth.

Today was the first day for Bucky to return, Steve had already gone back a week earlier after the doctor gave Bucky the all-clear. He wasn’t needed to stay around and help, so his Captain called him back in. He himself had already done the mandatory therapy session and done his tests. Just today he was given the all-clear to go back on patrol, however, he hated leaving Bucky behind.

“He just got all weird and snapped at me. He seems to think he doesn’t need and will eventually be let back on patrol, despite Fury telling him that isn’t gonna happen.” Steve sighed. Y/N patted the seat beside her, sensing his slow descent into pointing fingers at himself. Sinking into the spot beside her, Steve let out a heavy sigh and leaned against her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around him and began scratch behind his ears.

“It’s his first day back,” Y/N said quietly. “Let’s let him get settled first, and when he realizes how much desk duty sucks, he’ll do what Fury wants.”

Steve made a face, shaking his head.

“It’s not just that.” He began. “Bucky needs to go to therapy. Not just to get cleared, but the whole thing just really messed with him. I don’t think he realizes just how bad, but I see him just be so tense about every little noise. I’m worried about him.”

Y/N sighed sadly, nodding along with his answer. She had seen it too. Bucky would flinch at loud noises and his eyes would dart around wide with fear. It would only be a flash, but it was long enough for her and Steve to spot it.

“You’re right.” She agreed. “But when has he ever listened to you first time around?”

Steve scoffed and shook his head. He glared at the wall and took a long gulp from his beer.

“It used to be the other way around.” He muttered, the fond memory of their college coming back to him. Usually, it was him that ignored Bucky.  Had been since he could remember. It seemed like a switch flipped overnight and suddenly Bucky was the one being unreasonable. “I just don’t understand.”

“I know,” Y/N sighed. “It’s even more frustrating when the man won’t walk with us about it. But we can only push so much.”

Steve laid his head against hers, eyes falling shut to her still scratching the skin behind his ear. He hummed in agreement, despite his instincts telling him this was wrong. Bucky needed help, but Y/N was right. They couldn’t push him into doing something he didn’t want. Just because they saw the issues, didn’t mean Bucky was willing or even remotely ready to admit he needed the help himself. For now, Steve decided to keep a close enough eye on Bucky as he could. Only time would tell how well that would go.

Clock in, sit down, sift through the countless amounts of paperwork, fill them out, hit submit, and do it all over again until 6. Three weeks he’s been doing this, and all three weeks had been pure torture. Bucky had thought if he kept up with his refusal to step foot in the therapist’s office, Fury would give in and let him back on active duty. So far, the old stubborn mad hadn’t budged once. But Bucky was just a stubborn as him.

“Yeah, Steve I can run to the store.” Bucky was walking back to his car after another groundbreaking day stuck in his desk. His phone was cradled against his ear as he fumbled for his keys in his pocket. Steve was out on his route and called him up knowing Bucky was off. The fridge was almost empty, and Steve was getting sick of take out.

“I’ll send you a list of things I need,” Steve said absently on the other end. “And don’t get that weird bread again. Just get the 9 grain.”

“Fine. I’ll text when I’m on my way back.” Bucky hummed and buckled in, turning on the engine. “Talk to you later.”

Steve said goodbye before Bucky hung up and tucked his phone in his pocket. He sat there for a moment just staring at his dash, his heart heavy and his thoughts dark. It seemed the past few weeks that’s what his whole world seemed like. True, he had two people who loved him and cared about him, but something just felt off. He was getting bored, sick of his day to day. That had to be all, he thought. It wasn’t anything more than boredom.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Bucky threw the car in reverse and backed out. Opting to ignore the sadness, he went on about the rest of his day and headed to the store. It had been a while since he had gone someplace other than his house or work, especially alone. Y/N had been fairly busy with her clients the past few weeks and hadn’t really had nights that allowed them to take her out on a dinner. Steve would usually do the grocery shopping on his way home from work, so Bucky never really needed to leave the apartment. It still didn’t make this any less than unusual. he was a grown adult who's done this countless time before. Yet even as he wandered the aisles and filled the cart there was still something off about him and he was getting really sick of it.

A sharp cry behind him made him flinch and shot a startled look over his shoulder. A baby was fussing in it’s seat, grabbing out to it’s mom who was trying to soothe the child while she grabbed things from the shelf. Bucky exhaled loudly, ignoring the thumping in his ears. He pushed his cart out of the aisle and went to the meat section, willing his body to relax. This was ridiculous, he chastised himself. He wasn’t in danger here.

As he bent over to look over the steak options there was another clatter, a series of bangs that ricochet off the high ceilings. It made Bucky jump, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end while he spun around. Down a ways at the top of an aisle, a lady had hit a shelf with her cart that sent several of the metal cans flying against linoleum and rolling noisily away. She cursed loudly and bent to pick them up.  

Bucky shakily turned back to the meat, grabbing a package before he threw it in the cart. His hands trembled as he pushed the cart towards the checkout, confused and slightly frustrated. What was going on with him today? Things like this had never bothered him before. It was just a baby and a few cans hitting the ground. Why was his mind making him react like this? Why now?

A lump started to grow in his throat, the shrill beep of the scans as the cashier did her job caused a tick with each item. The frustration grew, but so did the anxiety. He didn’t even notice when the cashier was done until she called out louder to him over the drone in his ears.

“Sir?” She asked concerned.

Blinking rapidly, Bucky looked up and stared at her for a split second.

“Card.” He muttered, the light bulb turning on. “That’s right. You need me to swipe.”

The cashier giggled and nodded, blushing lightly at the bashful grin he sent her way. He swiped the card, ignoring the way his fingers shook. The bagger set all his bag in the cart and bade him goodnight. Bucky nodded mindlessly, flashing him a hallow smile.

He hated how jumpy he had been tonight. His heart hadn’t once stopped pounding in his ears, there was an itch under his skin. While he put the bags in his car, his breathing began to pick up rapidly. Catching the side of the car, Bucky ducked his chin against his chest and tried to suck in air. A weight of terror sat on his chest, making it harder to breathe and harder to keep his wits.

Shit, he thought. Somewhere in his frantic mind, he realized he was having a panic attack. Gasping for air, he sank to the concrete, leaning against his open door. Bucky clutched his head, pulling and tugging at his locks.

Quit freaking out, quit freaking out, quit freaking out! Bucky chanted, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fumbled with the phone, barely glancing at the name before answering.

“Hey, Buck. Steve was wondering if you could grab-?”

“Y/N?” Bucky gasped. There was a pause.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Bucky shook his head, the panic growing higher and higher. He couldn’t do this; he couldn’t stop it. The world became white noise, barely making out Y/N’s frantic pleas.

“Bucky! Where are you? Steve and I can come get you, but baby, you need to tell me where you are!”

“Grocery, grocery store.” Bucky panted. He heard her shout to someone on the other end, Steve no doubt. A flurry of noises as they rushed out the door. Then her soft soothing voice came back on the line.

“Okay, baby.” She began. “Steve and I are on the way. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

Bucky nodded, gasping for air as tears started to fall down his cheeks.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes.” He croaked.

“Okay good. Now I need you to take a deep breath with me. Can you do that?”

Bucky nodded, clutching his chest as he listened to Y/N. She took in a steady deep breath before loudly letting it go. Bucky struggled to follow, the panic still gripping tightly to his chest. Yet, Y/N never stopped. She whispered soft words of encouragement and kept repeating her breathing.

“You’re doing so good baby.” She cooed softly. Bucky’s eyes fell shut; his breathing not as bad as it once was. Now his body shook, his heart still pounded in his chest, but at least it wasn’t in his ears. “We’re right at the stoplight. Give us two minutes and we’ll be right there.”

Bucky mumbled something incoherent, his body sagging against the car. He heard a car pull up next to him. It barely made it into park before both doors were swung open and footsteps rushed to him. Soft hands framed his face, a familiar comforting smell wafting into his senses that caused his eyes to flutter open.

Y/N was kneeling between his legs, her face twisted in concern with tears threatening to spill. His gaze turned up to Steve who was standing behind Y/N, looking equally as worried and troubled. Sitting there wallowing in the outcome of his worst panic attack to date, Bucky felt helpless. He felt weak and useless. He was a cop couldn’t even make it one trip alone to the grocery store without having a full-blown panic attack. How ridiculous was that?

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked quietly.

“Like shit.” Bucky voice cracked. Y/N twisted to look up at Steve. He let out a heavy exhale and shook his head. Y/N turned back to Bucky and gently took his hands.

“Let's get you off the ground and Steve can take you home.” Y/N instructed. She stood and helped Bucky stand on shaky legs before passing him off to Steve’s waiting arms. Bucky mumbled thanks and dug into his pocket to hand over to Y/N. Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to his chin. “We’ll get you home, get you some food and snuggle during a movie later. Okay?”

Bucky nodded sluggishly, leaning heavily on Steve. Steve didn’t seem bothered by Bucky’s added weight, but Y/N could see it on his face. This rattled him just as much as it rattled her. The two shared a knowing glance before Steve directed him to the front seat of the car. Y/N and Steve both shared a quick kiss in goodbye with Y/N saying she’d put the cart up and meet them at his apartment.

Steve pulled away, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Bucky glanced over, his heart tightening in his chest. Only this time it was for a different reason. He hated seeing Steve and Y/N in pain, especially over him. He hated how distraught the two of them were when he was shot. He hated how they both looked so broken and helpless with how he was now. While he’d hate every second of it, Bucky knew what he needed to do. Turning back to the window, Bucky took in a deep cleansing breath and let out the denial with an exhale.

“I’m going to do the therapy.” He mumbled. Steve’s ears perked up, his head swiveling around to stare at Bucky.

“Really?” Steve asked uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Bucky bobbed his head. “I didn’t think I was that bad with how everything went down. Clearly, this was the wakeup call I needed.”

“That’s… That’s good.” Steve said, his voice growing excited. “This will be good for you, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grunted and stared out the window. “Don’t have to say I told you so.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Lair.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Silence filled the car, the two smirking in the opposite directions. The air felt lighter between them, no longer was Steve unintentionally pressuring Bucky into this and Bucky wasn’t putting a wall to fight back. Steve reached over the center console and tenderly took Bucky’s hand in his. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he squeezed Steve’s hand.

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, Steve.”

Boys in Blue Taglist: (CLOSED!!!)

@debgreenleaf / @thorins-queen-of-erebor / @merigoldcaroline / @urbanrights/ @taliarosej00 / @stuckysheart / @thenightkillers /  @desertrose-saku / @weyheycraicey /  @apocalypse-zombiie / @inspiration2001 / @impalaimages/ @reading-stan / @angelicdisgrace / @nastybuckybarnes / @mazarinqueen / @neverforget-whereyoubelong / @hayliz20 / @jessieray98 / @cs-please / @forsaken-letters / @anything–marvel / @all-fandomthings / @jbug491 / @marvelobsessedteen / @monikawhatthefuck / @myrabbitholetoneverland / @wingardiumlevidonewithlife / @darkblueeyedperson / @supernaturallover2002/ @savemesteeb / @juliet12345678 / @virtualsheepeat / @flyawaybay / @marvelous-capsicle / @fandom-addict-aesthetics / @chelzwwefan / @babygirlizz / @superhero2552 / @hermionesalvatore84 / @kianya-loves / @literalangels / @grey-stardancer / @krazyk99 / @avngrsinitiative / @bohemianrhapposts / @secretagentben / @javapeach / @mizzzpink / @capslut2014

Perma Tag: (CLOSED)

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(Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

[sonicrainicorn]

Logan Is Berry Done

The title was a stand-in but I couldn’t think of anything better, so...

For @sides-of-quotes-contest

Words: 1609 Prompt: click here TW: Alcohol

Hope you enjoy~

((This post now has its own AU! Check it out here.))

Logan was not one for parties. He tried to stay away from them as often as possible in order to avoid… humans. Humans were icky, complicated things with too much to share or too little personal space -- especially at a party. They were weird and Logan wanted to avoid them as often as possible.

The one time Logan was glad to have been dragged to a party was several years ago. He had just turned nineteen so his brother, Thomas, thought it would be a great idea to invite him to his first “grown-up party”. Logan tried to refuse. He spent days trying to get Thomas to take somebody else, but Thomas persisted. He wanted Logan to be with him (out of all other possible candidates).

Reluctantly, Logan ended up going.

At the time it seemed terrible. There were so many strangers at various levels of drunk. Logan didn’t touch any drinks no matter how many times it was offered to him; he saw no reason to. Most of the night he stayed by Thomas’s side while the other talked with friends about random topics. He did, however, leave to find the bathroom as a temporary means of escape from all the noise.

The party was rather crowded and Logan found himself having to squeeze between people in order to move around. After reaching the inside, he ended up tripping over something (someone?), but instead of falling to the ground, he crashed into a person.

“Whoa, you okay, buddy?”

Logan flushed. This stranger had caught his fall. “S-sorry.” He pulled himself together, but his hands lingered a second or two on the charming stranger’s arms. “I suppose I didn’t see where I was going.”

The stranger chuckled. “It’s no problem.” The next words he spoke changed both of their lives forever. “Well, since you just fell for me you should probably know my name, at least. I’m Patton.”

Several text messages, a risky question, and many dates later, the two ended up married. (Logan was the one to propose). Their wedding was the only other party Logan was glad to attend.

The two were more than happy to spend the rest of their lives together. They wouldn’t want it any other way.

Over the course of their marriage, Logan had tried his hardest to avoid going to any parties they happened to be invited to. Most of the time he ended up going due to Patton rivaling his stubbornness, but they never stayed long. Patton knew how Logan felt about human interaction. Logan would never admit it, but he fell a little more in love with Patton whenever he recognized he couldn’t stand to be in public anymore.

Unfortunately, Patton knew a lot of people which meant he got invited to parties rather often. Christmas parties, birthday parties, Halloween parties... Any date that was capable of celebrating Patton got an invitation to. He was too sociable and cute. People were just compelled to show that they appreciated his friendship the only way they knew how.

And Logan loathed it.

There wasn’t a reason that should be the social norm. There were other ways to say, “hey I like you as a person”. Flowers, maybe. There were certain flowers that meant friendship. A letter was also a good one. It would last longer and something that’s handwritten holds more sentiment. Anything but a stupid party.

For all these thoughts Logan was never mad at Patton for coming home with another invitation; a little peeved, sure, but never mad. He knew it was almost unheard of to deny an invitation simply because someone didn’t want to go. It wasn’t Patton’s fault that Logan preferred to stay away from any type of interaction.

Logan also knew that it was pretty much expected that the invitee should bring their significant other (or even their children). Which was why he was surprised when Patton told him he didn’t need to go to this one.

“I’m certainly not complaining,” was Logan’s response. “But may I know why?”

“It’s only a housewarming party for Alec.” Patton shrugged. “Since you hate being out of the house for long periods of time then why take you to a party that you wouldn’t consider important?”

Logan furrowed his brows. He thought he had met all of Patton’s coworkers by now. “Who’s Alec?”

“That’s another reason.”

So, Logan saw Patton off at around two in the afternoon. There were only a handful of times Patton had gone to a party by himself -- for legitimate reasons such as Logan being sick -- so Logan couldn’t predict when he would be home. While together, they’d leave a party an hour or two after arriving. Maybe three if Logan was feeling particularly sociable. Who knew how long Patton would decide to stay without Logan there like a phone battery losing charge.

That didn’t matter much, though. As long as it wasn’t an unreasonable hour and Patton was safe, that was all that mattered to Logan.

But by nine o’clock, however, Logan couldn’t help but wonder. He had never known for Patton to stay out this long before. He always made sure to be back in time to tuck the kids into bed. It was a little past that time now and Patton hadn’t even called. Patton always called. Even if it was for something little. He wanted things to run smoothly whenever he was away from the house for a significant amount of time.

So where was he now?

“When is Dad coming home?”

The sound of his son’s tired voice pulled Logan out of his worrying. He stopped pacing to face the twins waiting on the couch. They were both very tired but refused to sleep without their dad saying goodnight to them.

“I don’t know,” Logan responded. He noticed Virgil’s head snap up after drooping for a few minutes. “Are you sure you two don’t want to go to bed? Your dad could be out for a while.”

“No,” Roman whined. “I refuse.”

“Me too,” Virgil yawned.

Logan refrained from rolling his eyes. Their stubbornness was learned from somewhere, after all.

He sat down on the couch between them, deciding that his pacing wasn’t getting very far. He had called Patton twice but received no answer. It was both worrying and annoying at the same time. Why would Patton decide now of all times to be carefree?

Virgil rest his head on Logan’s arm as he began to drift off again. Roman didn’t seem like he was going to go down any time soon, but his father could tell that he was fighting to keep his eyes open. Maybe all three of them would end up falling asleep on the couch waiting for Patton.

The twins jumped when Logan’s phone started ringing. It was the stupid Spongebob Squarepants theme song -- Patton’s ringtone.

Logan answered with the full intent of berating Patton on his carelessness.

“Woah, hey, Lo. Logan. LoLo. Logi-bear. My precious little bumblebee,” Patton snorted. “I just fu… I just.” He laughed again. “I jus’ learned a science. Wanna hear?”

“You just…?” Logan was beyond confused. “Patton, are you drunk?”

“I ju-ust learned that men have milk-glands and can breastfeed if their nipples are sucked on for a few weeks!”

Logan didn’t want to know where Patton learned that. “Okay, so why was that the most important thing for you to call me for?”

“S-so when we have a kid --”

“We currently have two.”

“-- we’re both pitching in, milk boy. My cartgan of log-milk.” Patton started giggling to himself.

Logan’s first instinct was to walk into another room and scream, but with both of his sons gazing at him in confusion he felt as if that wasn’t the best idea. What he ended up doing was putting a hand over his eyes and letting a pensive sigh out through his nose.

At a lack of a verbal response, Patton spoke up in a cheerful sing-song voice, “Logan? You still there?”

To avoid actually screaming Logan hung up on him. He placed his elbows on his knees and pressed his phone to his forehead. There were no words for what he had just experienced.

“What happened?” Roman asked.

“Your father is an idiot,” Logan replied, his tone a mixture of exasperation and embarrassment.

He straightened out to dial another contact on his phone. There were several rings before the other side picked up.

“Hey, little bro!” The voice was cheerier than usual.

Oh God. “Thomas, are you drunk too?” Logan ran a hand through his hair. “I thought you said you would be the designated driver if it came down to it.”

“I said that?” Thomas sounded genuinely confused. “Oh, oops.”

“Hey, is that Logan?” Patton’s voice shouted in the background. “Ask him why he hung up on me!  Why would you do that to me, Logy-loo?”

“Patton said --”

“I know.” Logan sighed. “I know.”

“Wow. I have the smartest little brother in the whole world.”

“I’m hanging up on you now.”

Logan groaned and fell back against the couch. Once -- just once -- he wanted to not be the responsible one. Patton and Thomas were adults, too. They should be able to recognize that one of them would need to be sober in order to drive home. Now Logan was going to have to pick them up and leave Thomas’s car there. How annoying.

“Who wants to come with me to pick up your father and Uncle Thomas?”

And if you thought Logan wasn’t petty enough to show the whole party how Patton left his two ten-year-olds waiting in their pajamas to be tucked in, then you would be wrong.

[mystery-inc-unsolved]

Psychosis- Part 2/5

Monday

I forgot to finish writing last night. I’m not sure what I expected to see when I ran up the stairwell and looked out the heavy metal door’s window. I’m feeling ridiculous. Last night’s fear seems hazy and unreasonable to me now. I can’t wait to go out into the sunlight. I’m going to check my email, shave, shower, and finally get out of here! Wait, I think I heard something.

***********

It was thunder. That whole sunlight and fresh air thing didn’t happen. I went out into the stairwell and up the stairs, only to find disappointment. The heavy metal door’s little window showed only flowing water, as torrential rain slammed against it. Only a very dim, gloomy light filtered through the rain, but at least I knew it was daytime, even if it was a grey, sickly, wet day. I tried looking out the window and waiting for lightning to illuminate the gloom, but the rain was too heavy and I couldn’t make out anything more than vague weird shapes moving at odd angles in the waves washing down the window. Disappointed, I turned around, but I didn’t want to go back to my room. Instead, I wandered further up the stairs, past the first floor, and the second. The stairs ended at the third floor, the highest floor in the building. I looked through the glass that ran up the outer wall of the stairwell, but it was that warped, thick kind that scatters the light, not that there was much to see through the rain, to begin with.

I opened the stairwell door and wandered down the hallway. The ten or so thick wooden doors, painted blue a long time ago, were all closed. I listened as I walked, but it was the middle of the day, so I wasn’t surprised that I heard nothing but the rain outside. As I stood there in the dim hallway, listening to the rain, I had the strange fleeting impression that the doors were standing like silent granite monoliths erected by some ancient forgotten civilization for some unfathomable guardian purpose. Lightning flashed, and I could have sworn that, for just a moment, the old grainy blue wood looked just like rough stone. I laughed at myself for letting my imagination get the best of me, but then it occurred to me there was a window somewhere in the hallway. A vague memory surfaced, and I suddenly recalled that the third floor had an alcove and an inset window halfway down the floor’s hallway.

Excited to look out into the rain and possibly see another human being, I quickly walked over to the alcove, finding the large thin glass window. Rain washed down it, as with the front door’s window, but I could open this one. I reached a hand out to slide it open but hesitated. I had the strangest feeling that if I opened that window, I would see something absolutely horrifying on the other side. Everything’s been so odd lately, so I came up with a plan, and I came back here to get what I needed. I don’t seriously think anything will come of it, but I’m bored, it’s raining, and I’m going stir crazy. I came back to get my webcam. The cord isn’t long enough to reach the third floor by any means, so instead I’m going to hide it between the two soda machines in the dark end of my basement hallway, run the wire along the wall and under my door, and put black duct tape over the wire to blend it in with the black plastic strip that runs along the base of the hallway’s walls. I know this is silly, but I don’t have anything better to do.

Well, nothing happened. I propped open the hallway-to-stairwell door, steeled myself, then flung the heavy front door wide open and ran like hell down the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I watched the webcam on my computer intently, seeing the hallway outside my door and most of the stairwell. I’m watching it right now, and I don’t see anything interesting. I just wish the camera’s position was different so that I could see out the front door. Hey! Somebody’s online!

*********

I got out an older, less functional webcam that I had in my closet to video chat with my friend online. I couldn’t really explain to him why I wanted to video chat, but it felt good to see another person’s face. He couldn’t talk very long, and we didn’t talk about anything meaningful, but I feel much better. My strange fear has almost passed. I would feel completely better, but there was something odd, but… still, he was very vague in his responses. I can’t recall one specific thing that he said. No particular name, or place, or event, but he did ask for my email address to keep in touch. Wait, I just got an email.

I’m about to go out. I just got an email from Amy that asked me to meet her for dinner at ‘the place we usually go to.’ I do love pizza, and I’ve just been eating random food from my poorly stocked fridge for days, so I can’t wait. Again, I feel ridiculous about the odd couple of days I’ve been having. I should destroy this journal when I get back. Oh, another email.

**********

Oh my god. I almost left the email and opened the door. I almost opened the door. I almost opened the door, but I read the email first! It was from a friend I hadn’t heard from in a long time, and it was sent to a huge number of emails that must have been every person he had saved in his address list. It had no subject, and it said, simply:

Seen with your own eyes don’t trust them they

What the hell is that supposed to mean? The words shock me, and I keep going over and over them. Is it a desperate email sent just as, something happened? The words are obviously cut off without finishing! On any other day I would have dismissed this as spam from a computer virus or something, but the words... Seen with your own eyes! I can’t help but read over this journal and think back on the last few days and realize that I have not seen another person with my own eyes or talked to another person face to face. The webcam conversation with my friend was so strange, so vague, so… eerie, now that I think about it. Was it eerie? Or is the fear clouding my memory? My mind toys with the progression of events I’ve written here, pointing out that I have not been presented with one single fact that I did not specifically give out unsuspectingly. The random ‘wrong number’ that got my name and the subsequent strange return call from Amy, the friend that asked for my email address, I messaged him first when I saw him online! And then I got my first email a few minutes after that conversation! Oh my god! That phone call with Amy! I said over the phone - I said that I was within half an hour’s walk of Seventh Street! They know I’m near there! What if they’re trying to find me?! Where is everyone else? Why haven’t I seen or heard anyone else in days?

No, no, this is crazy. This is absolutely crazy. I need to calm down. This madness needs to end.

**********

I don’t know what to think. I ran about my apartment furiously, holding my cell phone up to every corner to see if it got a signal through the heavy walls. Finally, in the tiny bathroom, near one ceiling corner, I got a single bar. Holding my phone there, I sent a text message to every number in my list. Not wanting to betray anything about my unfounded fears, I simply sent:

You seen anyone face to face lately?

At that point, I just wanted any reply back. I didn’t care what the reply was, or if I embarrassed myself. I tried to call someone a few times, but I couldn’t get my head up high enough, and if I brought my cell phone down even an inch, it lost signal. Then I remembered the computer, and rushed over to it, instant messaging everyone online. Most were idle or away from their computer. Nobody responded. My messages grew more frantic, and I started telling people where I was and to stop by in person for a host of barely passable reasons. I didn’t care about anything by that point. I just needed to see another person!

I also tore apart my apartment looking for something that I might have missed; some way to contact another human being without opening the door. I know it’s crazy, I know it’s unfounded, but what if? WHAT IF? I just need to be sure! I taped the phone to the ceiling in case.

[i-love-my-exhoes]

Camera binds are Colour blind

Part two / Part one

Sehun x reader

3,8K words

FBI agent watching me!au

Your eyes widened, why one earth would the FBI be monitoring you? You looked around you, making sure no one was reading over your shoulder, before typing your response. “can you prove it?” you weren’t sure whether you should believe whoever typed it, if you were a hacker you’d say the same thing when you got caught. Within a second, however, the ‘FBI-agent’ responded “of course I can prove it, but that would cost me my job. Besides I think you’d prefer not to get raided by the feds”.

You were amazed at his casual way of talking. You had always imagined FBI-agents as stuck up, pretentious and downright stiff. But the person talking to you right now definitely wasn’t, they were even being sarcastic. Maybe your perception had been warped by your own brother, as some higher up officer with the FBI he always followed all rules, making him incredibly boring and strict. Now you were beginning to realise that that had always been his personality and that, maybe, not every single FBI-agent was like that.

“You didn’t answer yet, does that mean you do want us to raid your tiny ass appartement? because I’m sure if I really try I can make that happen without losing my job” The words appeared on your screen again. The audacity this person had still shocked you. So, you started typing furiously, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “first of all, you didn’t ask me a question so technically I have nothing to answer. Second, you come here, into my laptop, pretending you’re with the fucking FBI and even threatening me with a raid an then you even insult my appartement. I’m not having it and I appreciate you trying to help with my assignments but I’m more than capable of doing them myself. So, kindly fuck off” You were heated now, angry enough to have the blood rushing to your cheeks and to feel abnormally hot.

You slammed your laptop shut, your breathing still slightly faster than it should be as you fumed thinking about what was happening. You were never one to get angry this fast, or this much, but whoever broke into you computer just pushed all your buttons just right to get your blood burning. Deciding that just raging about it wasn’t going to help you, you turned your attention to the professor, who had long since arrived during your ‘little conversation’.

Sehun growled, he put all this effort in to help her and she didn’t even thank him but got mad at him instead? it was safe to say that Sehun was not satisfied with the outcome of your little dispute. He was frustrated, smashing the keys harder than strictly necessary as he went through your files again. He knew he‘d never find anything incriminating, and that was frankly not what he was looking for. The truth is that over all the time he spent watching at you and your internet activities, he had started to care about you. 

He was proud of you for working as hard as you did on your assignments, that was why he helped you when he found out your work was missing a few of the required aspects. But that was not all, your weirdly random google searches intrigued him and made him laugh and the sweet messages you sent your friends warmed his heart. All in all, he started liking you. Of course he would never admit it, not only because it would mean putting his job on the line, but also because Oh Sehun likes to think that he doesn’t fall easily.

You felt bad. You’d been avoiding all your electronical devices (like your microwave) just to avoid the man that had pissed you off, making all your assignments on the library computers and using your sister’s old phone instead of your own. The days you had been doing this, however, made you think. Why were you so angry at the man? he had only helped you. It might have been in the dumbest way possible but still, he tried to help you. The only reason you had to be mad at him was his breaking into your computer but if he was speaking the truth, then he was only doing his job.

Finally deciding that your anger was unreasonable, you grabbed your laptop. You opened word, sincerely hoping the guy that’d been monitoring you still was, and started typing. “hey, I don’t know if your still there. If you are I’d like to apologize, I got mad at you for trying to help me (btw I kinda believe you’re with the FBI now, no hacker would just help me with my assignment without totally bugging up my laptop or something)” You got all giddy inside after typing it, like a schoolgirl texting her crush. It confused you, you literally only talked to this dude once and he had gotten you mad there was no way you had a crush on him.

You weren’t really sure of what to expect. It had been well over a week since you’d abandoned all electronics, so he might have already been assigned to someone else. Luckily, within a minute you’d gotten a response.

“Yeah yeah, I don’t really care about that. The question is, are you ready to accept that blood orange was a better description or not?” You snorted, of course you weren’t. Thankfully though, lying is easy when you’re not face to face. “Yeah, it might have been better, got me more words as well”. Not a second later he started typing again. “You can’t see me but I’m rolling my eyes rn. You do know I just heard you snort right? whatever, as long as you don’t change it back, we’re cool” Your eyes widened ‘of course this little creep would be watching me’ You thought, completely disregarding the fact that it was literally his job to watch you. A shock of terror ran through you when you read his next words “I just checked your schedule btw, didn’t your class start like five minutes ago?”. You exclaimed a loud “FUCK” before running around your apartment, quickly gathering your stuff, only stopping to shout a quick “thank you” to the dude watching over you before slamming the door and sprinting to school.

Sehun smiled to himself as you once again tried handing in the wrong file, quickly changing the places of the files so you’d pick the right one. His smile got brighter as he looked at the shocked look on your face before you muttered another “thank you”.

 Over the last month or so, he’d heard these words a lot. You had been talking with him almost every day. Your way of talking had quickly evolved into you just speaking into your mic while he types away, this happened after he told you you typed slower than his grandma did. Truth be told, he found it endearing but he just wanted an excuse to hear your voice more. The two of you were pretty much best friends at this point, he’d even trusted you with his name.

“So, you and y/n must have been talking a lot lately” Chanyeol spoke up, waking Sehun up from his thoughts “You know, because you’ve been less of a bitch-baby lately” he continued when he didn’t get a response . Sehun scrunched up his nose at his older colleague’s childish behavior, not that he wouldn’t have said the same but when Chanyeol did things they always seemed more childish. “we have actually but I’d appreciate it if your dumb ass didn’t expose me in front of our boss so be less loud” His words were harsh but the smile lingered on his face. Chanyeol started walking back towards his own desk but couldn’t help but snicker a bit first “Man, you are whipped”.

Tears streamed down your face. So many things were happening all at once. It all started when you failed one of the most important exams you’d get this semester, meaning your school had to discuss whether they’d want to keep you or not. This made you anxious, and this became the reason the boy you’d been seeing broke up with you. Lastly, you’d just heard your bunny, Loki, had died. Life didn’t seem as colorful as it had a week ago and you weren’t handling it well.

You found some peace in Sehun, he’d been like a rock to you. It seemed like no matter what happened he’d be there for you and that was something you needed at the time. Something you’d started to rely on. But when you had a light panic attack, and he didn’t respond when you opened your laptop and talked to him. Even the messages you’d left him going unanswered. You felt broken. This man you had never even met meant so much to you. Losing him hurt.

“Dude, just look up her address. You can just track her IP bro stop sulking” Chanyeol had been trying to get Sehun to meet up with you ever since Sehun had been reassigned but the boy was being stubborn in trying to respect your privacy. “Seriously though, you watched her through her cam for months I really don’t think it’d bother her if you knew her address”

Sehun had been ignoring him for a while now but he’d had enough. “Chanyeol, can you, for once in your life, not stick your dumb head into someone else’s business. If you can’t just go do it to Minseok because I’m not having it anymore” He spoke, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing.

Chanyeol held his hands up before returning to his own desk. Pushing his hair back in frustration, he hadn’t seen Sehun as happy as he had been when you two were talking in a while. He made a quick decision, he couldn’t call himself Chanyeol anymore if he didn’t straight up ignore Sehun’s pledge for him not to interfere. So that left him with only one thing to do, or well, one thing to do first.

His hands fly over his keyboard as he quickly tracks you, something that could cost him his job if the wrong people found out. Chanyeol didn’t really care though, he genuinely cared for Sehun and after all his co-worker has said about you he even started caring about you. He wanted to see the both of you happy, preferably happy together. So he ignored all privacy laws that forbade him to search for you like this, and within a few minutes he had found you.

This was your third day of continually sitting inside, shoving food into your face to distract yourself from the world. Not the most healthy way of coping, but right now it was the preferred way of coping. You’d seen so many girls in angsty teen movies lock themselves in their rooms with just a tub of ice-cream and now it was your turn. Your friends had all been told you needed a bit of space, so when someone knocked on your door you decided just to ignore it.

“Hey, uhm, I know you’re in there. I really need to speak with you” a deep voice traveled through the mail slot on your door. You hesitated for a bit but you didn’t recognize the voice so it seemed better to you not to let the man know you were home, he was obviously bluffing when he said ‘he knew you were in’. You listened in to make sure he walked away, but instead you heard a heavy sigh “I’m with the FBI, let me in”. The FBI? Your head started spinning, could it be him?

You sneaked towards your door and peaked through the same mail slot he had spoken through. It took you a second to realize what you were looking at, that it wasn’t suddenly dark outside. You were looking straight into the eyes of whoever was standing at the door. Falling back on your ass in shock you made a loud sound as you knocked over a pile of unread newspapers. They piled on you, effectively trapping you.

 “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, I was just curious. Are you alright? I heard a noise”. You weren’t sure how to reply to his stuttered question, so you didn’t yet. Opting to try and remove yourself from the pile of newspapers first. Key word being ‘try’, they were too heavy for you to move in your current position and you cursed yourself for accumulating newspapers instead of just tossing or recycling them.

You hesitated even more, calling for help from the dude you tried to blow off would be embarrassing. Then again, a headline about a local Youngster dying buried underneath a pile of old newspapers might be even more embarrassing. So you swallowed your pride “I’m kind of stuck, please help. The door is probably open” you recalled from when you went to lock the door, but couldn’t find your keys.

“that’s not very safe” the man said as he opened your door. He was ridiculously tall, and kind of cute with big round eyes, that got even bigger when he saw you buried under all the papers, and flappy ears. “Oh god are you okay? How did this even happen?!” He said as he started pulling the papers off of you. “unresolved hoarding problems mixed with an unhealthy amount of laziness” you answered as he pulled you out from the suffocating pile of paper “thank god I didn’t get any paper cuts”.

The man in front of you grinned. “I totally get why he likes you”. You weren’t sure, but you had a feeling you knew who he was talking about. Trying not to get you hopes up you casually asked the man why the FBI needed you. “Ah actually that was just me trying to get you to open the door” He laughed nervously rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. Suddenly he held out his hand to you, which you shook a bit hesitatingly. “Hi, I’m Chanyeol, I work with the FBI. I’m here because Sehun is my precious little grumpy coworker, and he’s been sulking over you for the past few days”.

Chanyeol seemed a bit silly to you, something you usually liked in a person. His words, however, sounded unreal to you. Why would Sehun be sulking over you after he left you? “I thought he couldn’t let anyone find out we were talking” You said. Chanyeol grinned once again and you found it difficult not to grin back at him. “My little Sehunnie just can’t keep a secret from me” he explained, continuing in a more serious tone he said “He’s been reassigned because the department decided you were no longer a threat and he’s too shy to look up your address like I did”.

You needed a second to process that. It made so much more sense now, He didn’t just leave you because he’d had enough of you. It felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. You smiled at Chanyeol brightly “He gets shy? He sounded so confident” You said shaking your head lightly.”He is, He just has a crush on you”.

You blushed, hearing someone say he had a crush on you got you thinking again. Over the past few days you had come to accept your crush on him, it was easier because he was gone, you would never have to act on it because you would probably never talk to him again. But now that Chanyeol was here you were sure you’d get to talk to Sehun again, you’d probably even get to see him.

“He’s got his day off today, an I just know that dweeb is just sitting at home playing with vivi. So why don’t you get dressed properly and we go and set yo- I mean let you two meet” Chanyeol’s smile was devious as he corrected himself. Setting the two of you up was is goal and you knew it, and he knew you knew. So you have no clue as to why he even tried to hide it.

You had gotten dressed, Leaving Chanyeol in your living room to keep himself occupied with a bag of chips, and you were now underway to Sehun’s place which thankfully wasn’t insanely far from your own. “Okay, so maybe don’t mention I brought you here if he doesn’t specifically asks. That brat would get mad at me if he knew I meddled with your and his business”. You couldn’t help but giggle. You had gotten to know Chanyeol enough over the last hour to know Sehun would specifically ask.

Now the two of you were standing in front of Sehun’s door, Chanyeol insisting on fixing your hair before you ring the doorbell. “you know that he could see you through the window if he looked right?” You spoke as Chanyeol combed your hair with his fingers. “maybe he won’t look if you’re quiet. Besides I’m not about to send you into his house with your hair looking like you just debuted with nct 127″ you didn’t even get the time to ask him what the fuck he was talking about before he continued “I’m trying to set the two of you up in case you didn’t notice and since Sehun’s ridiculously stubborn you’re going to have to do all the work”. You frowned at him. Was this really a good idea? Maybe he was just playing around with you, convinced you would never even see him.

Before you could regret your decision Chanyeol rang the doorbell, quickly sprinting towards his car and racing off. The seconds before the door opened were nerve-wrecking with nothing there to distract you from your self destructive thoughts. The moment seemed to last forever but, thankfully, it did not.

The door opened and an annoyed sounding man lazily walked through it as he said “I’m not buying cookies before I get what I ordered last year”. He sounded exactly what you’d imagined even his tone was spot on (especially his tone) but you weren’t prepared for his looks. He was easily the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on, his strong features accentuated by the hair falling loosely down his forehead. His jawline popping out as he tilted his head back a bit to push it away from his eyes, before finally looking at you.

The way his expression shifted was cute. He went from cold and assertive (he was probably mad about his cookies) to a stuttering and blushing mess in under a second. “Y/N?! wha-? how did y-?” He didn’t even finish his question before answering it with a glare into the, now empty, street “Chanyeol”. 

You were glad he had answered his own question; there was no way you had been able to answer him properly right now. You were dumbfounded. You didn’t really know what you’d expected Sehun to look like, all you knew was that it didn’t even compare to the real thing. He was gorgeous and all of a sudden you were thankful Chanyeol had fixed your hair before ringing the bell.

‘I knew he would try but I didn’t expect you to actually come” He said softly when he finally got out of his daze, snapping you out of yours. “why wouldn’t I? I thought I made it quite obvious that I liked you, and when you just ignored me like that I got hurt” You trailed off near the end of your sentence, not wanting to admit how he’d made you feel but wanting him to know nonetheless. He sighed deeply, a nice sound something that would’ve calmed you down under different circumstances. Now it made you anxious fearful of what he’d mean by it.

Warmth surrounded you suddenly, Sehun’s toned arms wrapping around you in a soft, loose hug, something you could have easily shrugged off if you wanted too. You didn’t, instead, you hugged him back tightly. Standing on your tippy-toes to whisper in his ear “I missed you”. You felt at home in his arms, even if you only met him in person for the first time today. You knew you had feelings for him, you had accepted your crush on him some time ago, but now that he was actually there it just hit you so much harder.

Only when you heard him whisper back did you pull away from the hug slightly, making sure his arms were still around you. “I’m sorry” He had said. “You don’t have to apologize, it’s all alright now” you said looking into his eyes with a soft smile, trying not to make your heart eyes at him too obvious. “No it’s not” his eyes bore into yours “I- You really need to know that I didn’t let go of you because I didn’t care. It’s because I thought you wouldn’t. Please know that I care about you, a lot” His face had gotten closer as he had spoken. Only inches away from yours now, you could see his lashes brush his cheeks as he looked down at your lips. You could truly feel how soft his lips were as they pushed up against your own.

You kissed Sehun back gently, keeping the kiss nice and slow. His hand lightly stroked your jaw as he pulled away. “I really care about you” You broke out into a smile for the first time in over a week. “I missed you so much” Your voice was muffled as you pushed your face into his chest. When you finally separated you could see his smile, his entire face scrunched up in joy and you honestly couldn’t comprehend that he had gotten even more beautiful. “want to come in maybe? it’s getting kind of cold”. The two of your walked through the door closing it behind you.

“You won’t believe it Baekhyun. KISSING, THE KIDS WERE KISSING, and he has the audacity to get mad at me for ‘meddling’ with his ‘love life’. Without me the two hadn’t even been together right now and I’m pretty sure y/n would have gotten kicked out of college if I hadn’t begged Minseok to help her with the math classes” Baekhyun laughed “Yes, yes. You’re a hero, saved y/n and Sehun’s love life. I still can’t believe you got Minseok to help her with her studies though, he seemed so cranky every time I’ve seen him”. “Oh that’s because he’s addicted to caffeine, he get’s really moody without it but he’s a real softy at heart” Chanyeol screeched as a couple of ice cubes ran down the back of his shirt.  

“WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM?!”

[random-writing-things666]

Dumpweed Chapter 7

TW; small mention of violence

The next day at work was probably the most tense things have been in forever. Ruby hasn't said a word to me since that phone call, but I was invited to a blink rehearsal so I was kind of happy. "Hey, Ivory..." Ruby finally managed to speak up.

"Hmm, what's up?" I responded, sitting on the other side of Ruby's desk.

"I just wanted to apologise for getting mad at you." She apologised. "I was unreasonable, it was a stupid reason to get angry over." She finished off.

"I think I understand, I replied. I know you may have been a little late, but I should have invited you." I replied.

"I don't think it was stupid. You have famous friends now, and you're about to go on a pretty cool tour with your favourite band." She smiled lightly.

"I'm only going on tour because I'm banging the lead singer." I laughed.

"And rightfully so, I see that you two are made for each other. But before you go, we should go out on the town. This gal needs to get her jiggle on!" She giggled.

"I could do Friday night. We leave on Saturday morning." I smiled.

"Well, Friday night it is then!" She shouted in excitement. "Hey, do you think Mark will let us get ready at his place?" She asked.

"I can't see why not." I chuckled. "I will ask at rehearsal tonight.

I was at the blink rehearsal, watching them do their thing. "That sounded awesome!" I clapped, with a big grin on my face. Mark didn't seem as enthusiastic. "I'm glad you think so, but I can't seem to get this part right." He groaned.

"I think it sounded good." Travis spoke up from behind his drum kit.

"Yeah, I agree." Matt finished off. "You do have to remember that this is a rock show, people will won't care if you mess up one part."

"Dude, people notice." Mark argued back. "People always notice our fuck ups." He finished before storming out. I exchanged confused looks at both Matt and Travis.

"He'll be ok. He does tend to get stressed before touring." Travis spoke up.

"I'll go and check on him. See if I can make him feel better."

Mark was standing outside, leaning against the building. "Hey, are you alright?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. Mark looked down and gave me a small grin before turning away and sighing.

"I don't know. I'm just being a fusspot I guess." He huffed.

"I'm no expert, but I thought you sounded good. You always sound good to me." I replied, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Even before you got into my pants." This caused Mark to bust out laughing.

"Well, I'm glad you think so." He smiled.

"Yes, and I think lots of other blink-182 fans would say the same, well maybe not the last part. And Matt, and Travis would say you sound great." I encouraged him, stepping in front of him and placing his hands in mine. "Plus, the Mark I know is confident." I finished off. Mark leaned in and pecked my lips.

"You're pretty amazing, y'know?" He whispered quietly.

"I know. Now, are you going to do back in and do the thing that made me fall for you?" I asked him.

"Yes, but you have to come with me." He replied.

"Oh and one last thing, Ruby and I are going into town on Friday night. Can we get ready at your house?" I asked. Mark smiled softly. 

"Good to see you guys have patched things up. Of course you can." He smiled. 

The rest of the rehearsal session was a success. I'd hazard a guess that we were all systems go now, Mark and I were parked out the front of my house. "Are you sure you don't want to come back to my place?" He asked, holding a hand in his. 

"I'm sure, but I will see you Friday night?" I offered. 

"Probably sooner, I don't think I can last two nights without you." He admitted. I looked away, trying to hide my blush. 

"Well, I'll be seein' ya." I grinned, pecking Mark on the lips. Only, the peck turned into a mini makeout session. 

"That felt like more of a 'please, stay and fuck me, Mark' kiss than a goodbye kiss." Mark smirked as he pulled away. 

"And, what are you going to do about it?" I bit back, returning Mark's smirk.

"I am going to make you wait." He smirked.

"You're a bastard." I chuckled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I love you, Ivory." Mark smiled, kissing my cheek before I opened the car door and made my way to the front door.

I took a seat on the couch. It was oddly quiet tonight, quieter than it has been. I turned on the TV, only to mindlessly scroll through.  I pulled my phone out and started texting Mark.

Me: I should have let you stay. It's quiet as fuck here.

Mark: see I told you that you'd get lonely, try music. It helps me.

I smiled at Mark's advice and put my +44 CD in the player. It kind of felt like Mark was here. I sat back down and enjoyed listening to Mark's voice as I nodded off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to someone banging on my front door. What the hell? I thought to myself as I dragged myself up, opening the door to see Robert, my ex on the other side.

"Robert, what the fuck are you doing here?" I swore.

"Hello, Ivory. That wasn't a very nice way to greet your friend." He chuckled, pushing past me into the house.

"What the fuck. Leave. Now. And you're not my friend, you're the jealous ex boyfriend who thought he could get his way by pushing me around." I was half angry and half fearing my life. Robert turned around and smiled an evil grin.

"Maybe I still could." He chuckled, clutching a hand around my neck.

"Please, Robert. I've moved on. I don't want you no more!" I yelled. This was a bad mistake, he raised his fist to hit me.

"Hey, asshole. Get the hell off of her!" I heard a voice shout. He was thrown off me too quickly for me to see who it was, but I soon saw Mark and Travis rushing to my side.

"Ivory, are you ok?" Mark asked, kneeling down to me. "Who was that?"

"Robert, my ex. Don't know what he was doing. We didn't get to those particulars." I sighed. "I didn't think he would actually figure out where I was staying."

"It's ok. You're safe now Ivory." You looked up to see Matt walking towards me.

"Yeah, but I moved out his place. I didn't think he'd figure out where I moved to. I had to leave him. He was violent." I was shaking at this point.

"It's ok, Ivory. He won't hurt you no more." Mark reassured me, he got up and then helped me up, leading me over to the couch. He sat beside me and just held me in his arms. "I won't ever let it happen." He cooed.

"Yeah, you have three mean looking punks to look after you." Matt pointed out.

"I'd hate to break it to you guys, but y'all don't look very mean." I joked. This made everyone laugh out loud.

"Very funny." Mark chuckled, still holding my head against his chest.

"So, what were you guys doing here?" I asked.

"I was wanting to bring you to a rehearsal, but I think we could watch some movies instead." Mark suggested, specially after that.

"Alright, let's do it." I smiled. Watching movies with all.of blink-182, no complaints here.

[disloyaltykpop]

I Don’t Forgive You

Pairing: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: 1.7k+

Genre: Angst

 → Synopis: After years of being together, a lie is uncovered that could potentially ruin your relationship with Namjoon forever.

A/N: This is a reupload from personal blog (car-oo-uhl) which I converted to here and edited bc I wanted to make a separate blog for writing purposes. 

There’s something that clings onto you whenever you love someone. It’s a four letter word called hope. It sticks to you like gum against your favorite jeans when you unintentionally touch it from underneath a desk. No matter how hard you try to get it rid of it, it doesn’t come off. Hope doesn’t leave. But there comes a time when you just take a step back and let it be. There’s nothing more you can do to take it off.

       I guess that was where the first problem came to be. We tried so hard to ignore the clear issue at hand like it was no problem, and it slowly became to eat away at us … well at me. Then there were the the constant rumors of him being with other girls. I’d get insecure and barely speak to him, he’d get mad and start arguing. It was a cycle that we’d sadly gotten too familiar with and there wasn’t a way to fix it except exchange ‘I’m sorries’ and pretend like it never happened. But they did happen, and they did hurt me. 

I continued to have that feeling at the very bottom of my gut though, that nasty thought that he could possibly be … unfaithful. But I always pushed it aside thinking it was me being unreasonable. Namjoon was a hardworking guy with a stressful job that barely left him with time for his own. So whenever he did come home, I never wanted to make a big fuss about how lonely I was feeling lately, or how I wanted to do something, anything since we hadn’t had any time together. I never thought he had the time to do such a thing since he barely even had time to be with me.

Then a picture arose. 

It was probably one of the most cliche and careless ways of uncovering such a way of betrayal which was one of the reasons why I found myself denying it.

He isn’t like that. He would never do something like that especially after all this time and effort we put to be together.

Over and over I tried to convince herself the same things. I thought the way that the girl’s arms were wrapped around his neck while his were around her waist as their faces were centimeters from touching was a sick joke or maybe one of the edits that fans loved to make so much. I didn’t want to believe the wanting look Namjoon shared with the girl, the interest and possible love he had for someone that wasn’t me. He promised me he wouldn’t. He told me he loved me too much to hurt me like that.

Does he?

It was only a matter of time before the truth finally surfaced. It was always there really, but I was always in denial mainly for my own sake.

Ten o’clock hit, and I was finally snuggled into the warm sheets that Namjoon and I once shared. He usually called or would FaceTime just so we could exchange our “I love you’s” and good nights before going to sleep, and in this case it was my turn. It was something we had grown accustomed to far before we had gotten into something serious. Yet the irritation grew within me as time passed, and he didn’t call. I was trying to be as understanding as possible, but lately he was sending short-answered text messages. Sometimes he wouldn’t even reply at all until hours later where he would apologize with an excuse that only made me roll my eyes from how ridiculous it sounded at this point. 

I wasn’t asking for a lot. I didn’t blow up his phone or make a big deal out of things because I both didn’t want to become that clingy, obnoxious girlfriend that suffocated her boyfriend, and I definitely didn’t want to bother him while he was working.

Babe I’m literally about to fall asleep 😩  we haven’t talked all day and I just want to say a quick goodnight

I waited ten agonizingly slow minutes waiting for a response, but there was none. Although he had read the message which only fueled my anger and irritation more. In no time, I quickly clicked onto the FaceTime icon and waited for him to answer. It was half past midnight here in Seoul meaning that it was somewhere past noon where he was considering the fact that he was in New York where we shared a thirteen hour time difference. 

“Finally.” I muttered to herself as he finally answered. “Namjoon why haven’t you-”

“Is there any reason that you’re calling my boyfriend?” A voice that was definitely not Namjoon’s asked rudely. 

Did I just hear those words correctly? Did she just call my boyfriend hers while she’s naked under a sheet in his room and on his phone?

I couldn’t even talk as I tried to take in what had just happened. Had he really … what? 

The call dropped after that. I hadn’t even realized I ended it since the imagine of her was implanted in my brain. My phone blew up shortly after that with messages and calls all from him. He wanted to explain what occurred only moments ago, but was there really an explanation for that? And she called him her boyfriend.

Oh God, this wasn’t some one time hookup. 

I felt sick to my stomach, and my nerves turned into knots. My feet sprung into action and bolted towards the bathroom emptying all contents from my stomach.

He was talking to her for weeks, months maybe. Had he been talking to her the same amount time he was with me?

Three years; three years we spent together and for what? For it to just end like this? I gave him my everything. I told him every secret I had and opened up to him like I never had with anyone else. He was my best friend, my other half. He was there for me when I moved here and didn’t so much as understood the language here.

The familiar rings from calls and messages echoed throughout the room as it sat vibrating beside me. By now, Hoseok and Yoongi had joined along with Namjoon to spam it. Had they known about what Namjoon was doing?

There was no doubt that they had. They weren’t just group members, but practically brothers who told each other everything. 

“Hey are you-”

“Is it true?” I asked my voice breaking as I spoke. I hadn’t even realized I accepted the call, but at this point I didn’t care. “Is Namjoon …”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and quite frankly I didn’t know how to handle it.

“I don’t think I should be the one answering that y/n.” Yoongi responded, but that answer was more than enough to confirm it all.

There were muffled voices in the background, and that’s when I heard him, Namjoon. “Let me talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s the greatest idea right now.”

“I need to talk to her Yoongi! She’s my girlfriend-”

It hurt too much to think about him let alone hear him. Nothing could justify his actions for him doing what he did, and I don’t think I could ever forgive him for it. 

Please just talk to me

Just let me know you’re safe

I can’t lose you y/n

I’m sorry

The messages went on and on for days from him, but not once did I respond. And then I heard the front door open, and I just knew it was him. With every step that he took, my chest tightened, and it grew harder to breathe. My vision blurred with tears that I didn’t even bother to hold back anymore, and my lips quivered as I tried to hold back the sobs.

“Y/n . .” He trailed off as he stopped in his tracks once he entered the room. My attention was towards my fumbling hands as tears fell onto them. I couldn’t meet his eyes. It would break my already broken heart even more if I had.

“Why did you do this me?” I breathed out as I hiccuped a breath. And just like that, all my insecurities began to unravel. “Was I not good enough? Did I not make you happy?” 

“What? No, no, no.” He breathed out and ran up to me. He cupped my face in his hands before continuing. “It wasn’t - I don’t why I … I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.” If it weren’t for the fact that the evidence was clear, maybe I would’ve stupidly believed him.

A whimper left my lips, and I hated how pathetic and weak I sounded. But I was too hurt to feel anything else.

“I don’t forgive you.” I responded as I finally brought myself to look at him and pulled his hands away from my face. Tears welled his eyes as he shook his head. His breathing grew heavy and quickened a bit at the words that had just left my lips.

His vision faltered to the packed bags and suitcases that lied alongside the dresser in front of our bed. “Baby please, just don’t leave. We can fix this. I know we can.”

“I can’t trust you Namjoon.” I told him as I wiped my tears. “And trust is basically what makes up a relationship, so if I can’t trust you,” Honestly, I couldn’t even believe the words spurring out of my mouth. The gravity of the situation was all sinking in, and I wanted out. Call me whatever, but I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stand here and look him in the eyes. I could never look at him the same way as before no matter how much he loved, because by the end of the day, love unfortunately was not enough. It wasn’t enough to keep Namjoon’s affection to be towards me and only me. It wasn’t enough to keep us happy after all this time and effort we spent. It wasn’t enough to prevent those lonely nights I spent crying miles away from him while he was perfectly content in another woman’s arms. It wasn’t enough to save this relationship.

“No y/n.” He shook his head, refusing to let me finish my sentence. “Please don’t do this.” The tears were falling from his eyes, and even though it shouldn’t have hurt, it did. I was angry, but the pain in my heart was much greater than the anger boiling my blood.

“Then we can’t be together.”

[talesofhorrorofficial]

Psychosis (Part Two)

Monday

I forgot to finish writing last night. I’m not sure what I expected to see when I ran up the stairwell and looked out the heavy metal door’s window. I’m feeling ridiculous. Last night’s fear seems hazy and unreasonable to me now. I can’t wait to go out into the sunlight. I’m going to check my email, shave, shower, and finally get out of here! Wait… I think I heard something.

—

It was thunder. That whole sunlight and fresh air thing didn’t happen. I went out into the stairwell and up the stairs, only to find disappointment. The heavy metal door’s little window showed only flowing water, as torrential rain slammed against it. Only a very dim, gloomy light filtered in through the rain, but at least I knew it was daytime, even if it was a grey, sickly, wet day. I tried looking out the window and waiting for lightning to illuminate the gloom, but the rain was too heavy and I couldn’t make out anything more than vague weird shapes moving at odd angles in the waves washing down the window. Disappointed, I turned around, but I didn’t want to go back to my room. Instead, I wandered further up the stairs, past the first floor, and the second. The stairs ended at the third floor, the highest floor in the building. I looked through the glass that ran up the outer wall of the stairwell, but it was that warped, thick kind that scatters the light, not that there was much to see through the rain to begin with.

I opened the stairwell door and wandered down the hallway. The ten or so thick wooden doors, painted blue a long time ago, were all closed. I listened as I walked, but it was the middle of the day, so I wasn’t surprised that I heard nothing but the rain outside. As I stood there in the dim hallway, listening to the rain, I had the strange fleeting impression that the doors were standing like silent granite monoliths erected by some ancient forgotten civilization for some unfathomable guardian purpose. Lightning flashed, and I could have sworn that, for just a moment, the old grainy blue wood looked just like rough stone. I laughed at myself for letting my imagination get the best of me, but then it occurred to me that the dim gloom and lightning must mean there was a window somewhere in the hallway. A vague memory surfaced, and I suddenly recalled that the third floor had an alcove and an inset window halfway down the floor’s hallway.

Excited to look out into the rain and possibly see another human being, I quickly walked over to the alcove, finding the large thin glass window. Rain washed down it, as with the front door’s window, but I could open this one. I reached a hand out to slide it open, but hesitated. I had the strangest feeling that if I opened that window, I would see something absolutely horrifying on the other side. Everything’s been so odd lately… so I came up with a plan, and I came back here to get what I needed. I don’t seriously think anything will come of it, but I’m bored, it’s raining, and I’m going stir crazy. I came back to get my webcam. The cord isn’t long enough to reach the third floor by any means, so instead I’m going to hide it between the two soda machines in the dark end of my basement hallway, run the wire along the wall and under my door, and put black duct tape over the wire to blend it in with the black plastic strip that runs along the base of the hallway’s walls. I know this is silly, but I don’t have anything better to do…

Well, nothing happened. I propped open the hallway-to-stairwell door, steeled myself, then flung the heavy front door wide open and ran like hell down the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I watched the webcam on my computer intently, seeing the hallway outside my door and most of the stairwell. I’m watching it right now, and I don’t see anything interesting. I just wish the camera’s position was different, so that I could see out the front door. Hey! Somebody’s online!

—

I got out an older, less functional webcam that I had in my closet to video chat with my friend online. I couldn’t really explain to him why I wanted to video chat, but it felt good to see another person’s face. He couldn’t talk very long, and we didn’t talk about anything meaningful, but I feel much better. My strange fear has almost passed. I would feel completely better, but there was something… odd… about our conversation. I know that I’ve said that everything has seemed odd, but… still, he was very vague in his responses. I can’t recall one specific thing that he said… no particular name, or place, or event… but he did ask for my email address to keep in touch. Wait, I just got an email.

I’m about to go out. I just got an email from Amy that asked me to meet her for dinner at ‘the place we usually go to.’ I do love pizza, and I’ve just been eating random food from my poorly stocked fridge for days, so I can’t wait. Again, I feel ridiculous about the odd couple of days I’ve been having. I should destroy this journal when I get back. Oh, another email.

—

Oh my god. I almost left the email and opened the door. I almost opened the door. I almost opened the door, but I read the email first! It was from a friend I hadn’t heard from in a long time, and it was sent to a huge number of emails that must have been every person he had saved in his address list. It had no subject, and it said, simply:

“seen with your own eyes don’t trust them they”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? The words shock me, and I keep going over and over them. Is it a desperate email sent just as… something happened? The words are obviously cut off without finishing! On any other day I would have dismissed this as spam from a computer virus or something, but the words… seen with your own eyes! I can’t help but read over this journal and think back on the last few days and realize that I have not seen another person with my own eyes or talked to another person face to face. The webcam conversation with my friend was so strange, so vague, so… eerie, now that I think about it. Was it eerie? Or is the fear clouding my memory? My mind toys with the progression of events I’ve written here, pointing out that I have not been presented with one single fact that I did not specifically give out unsuspectingly. The random ‘wrong number’ that got my name and the subsequent strange return call from Amy, the friend that asked for my email address… I messaged him first when I saw him online! And then I got my first email a few minutes after that conversation! Oh my god! That phone call with Amy! I said over the phone – I said that I was within half an hour’s walk of Seventh Street! They know I’m near there! What if they’re trying to find me?! Where is everyone else? Why haven’t I seen or heard anyone else in days?

No, no, this is crazy. This is absolutely crazy. I need to calm down. This madness needs to end.

—

I don’t know what to think. I ran about my apartment furiously, holding my cell phone up to every corner to see if it got a signal through the heavy walls. Finally, in the tiny bathroom, near one ceiling corner, I got a single bar. Holding my phone there, I sent a text message to every number in my list. Not wanting to betray anything about my unfounded fears, I simply sent:

“You seen anyone face to face lately?”

At that point, I just wanted any reply back. I didn’t care what the reply was, or if I embarrassed myself. I tried to call someone a few times, but I couldn’t get my head up high enough, and if I brought my cell phone down even an inch, it lost signal. Then I remembered the computer, and rushed over to it, instant messaging everyone online. Most were idle or away from their computer. Nobody responded. My messages grew more frantic, and I started telling people where I was and to stop by in person for a host of barely passable reasons. I didn’t care about anything by that point. I just needed to see another person!

I also tore apart my apartment looking for something that I might have missed; some way to contact another human being without opening the door. I know it’s crazy, I know it’s unfounded, but what if? WHAT IF? I just need to be sure! I taped the phone to the ceiling in case.

[simply-storytime]

that goddamn boy

(first post gonna be a long one and an important one to me which is going to feature proper grammar and sentence structuring eskeddit)

I had a boyfriend for about 4 months. We first discovered each other’s existence a year or so before we started dating. There is an odd bit to the story which makes it slightly more interesting. Anyways, I disappear for 4 months after first meeting him (the disappearance is another crazy ass story) and once I finally come back the only screen name I remembered was his. Our friendship beforehand was pretty much nonexistent. He was the standard “hey send nudes” kind of guy. Due to this, I didn’t know why I remembered his name. He didn’t really mean much to me because he was a dick. So, I’d never seen his face before because the internet is the internet and he hadn’t seen mine either. All we had to prove the other existed was just a chat full of lacklustre messages. Eventually he asks if I had a snapchat. This question scared the absolute hell out of me because I have some pretty deep rooted self esteem issues. He’s assured me before he’s ugly and I don’t know why he would tell me that if he wanted anything to do with me. I do give in and give him my snapchat, but not without the lingering feeling that I was not up to status with looks. He snaps me first of course, but not with his face. It’s just a dark screen which was a particularly good thing for me because it was an excuse for me to do the same. This went on for 2 days actually. I get tired of it because there was no point in using snapchat for just text. I take a photo, and I wasn’t going to do myself up for it. He responds back with a compliment, but by now it’s insignificant and forgotten. Under the compliment though was his face. He had really pretty brown eyes and black hair that really made me appreciate remembering his screen name. I fire a compliment back and that’s it. Casually sending our faces was now the plan. This was in early November and we didn’t start dating until January. He never stopped with the “send nudes” thing, but I brushed it off every time and he did as well. On January 9th he finally asked me out. It was an awkward process. It was the “What would you do if I asked you out?” “I’d say yes, of course.” kind of thing. But he doesn’t ask me out like that. He puts it underwhelmingly. “bitch u wanna be my shawty?” At this point i’m excited, but also slightly disappointed. Not much else happened out of the ordinary. The relationship was mostly “I love you"s and "I’m never leaving you.” Oh boy, was that a lie. There were late night skype calls that ended up with both of us falling asleep and countless dropped calls due to his shitty ass wifi connection. He wanted some stuff on Amazon and it was fairly cheap so I buy him a pop vinyl and a stuffed lion. It was going pretty well. April 20 he broke up with me. He said it was because distance was too difficult. I cried for 20 minutes straight and 🎉surprise🎉 this is what sparked my impulses to self harm. He wasn’t the nicest to me all the time. He’d get mad at me for talking to my friends. I could see the whole “I don’t want you talking to other guys because I’m possessive grr” kind of thing which is still unreasonable, but he wouldn’t want me to talk to any of my friends at all. He never apologised for anything he did. Before any of that had happened, he had gotten a ticket to see a girl and stay with her for 3 days. I didn’t say anything about this and I would’ve expected him to react normally about me having friends. Things like that made him angry often. April 23 he asks me out again. I desperately didn’t want to say yes, but I was lonely. This resparked relationship lasted (aaaand at this point i realised that i have no idea how long the relationship lasted ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) *however long it did*. Then, he broke up with me again. Now I’m back to today. I regret the relationship immensely. There are a few things I left out because this post hella long. Looking back on it, he was kind of controlling. So hey, try and avoid a controlling relationship and I can live vicariously through your love life.