#can’t even scroll bc there’s nothing new bc it’s all I’ve done today

[i-will-not-be-caged]

FUCK I miss having the capacity to enjoy things

[golbrocklovely]

remember me // colby brock

A/N: this is not a request, but this is something i have been thinking about for a long time, probs since i started writing. i only finally wrote this out bc i’ve seen a lot of edit on insta that are like ‘what if your fave didn’t exist?’ and i figured this was sign for me to finally write it. if you guys want me to make a sequel to this, lmk. hope you enjoy.

prompt: everyone has forgotten colby, except her. but why?

trigger warning: angst, kinda sad, ppl forgetting colby

word count: 3567

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day started out like any other day for Colby. Nothing felt out of place as he woke up and laid in bed for a couple minutes. He knew today was going to be one of the less crazier days for him and Sam. No meetings of any kind, and no filming either. He had gotten everything done earlier this week and he was excited to have a bit of a day off. The only thing he had planned for today was to go workout with Sam early. He glanced at his phone. 9:34 A.M. Perfect time for him and Sam to go down to the apartment's gym and get some work done.

Colby stretched as he stood up, stumbling over to his closet and changing into what he usually worked out in, a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. He trudged into his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly, opting to take a shower after he got home from the gym. He slipped his sneakers on as he walked into his kitchen and got a water bottle from his fridge. Taking a big gulp, he grabbed his keys and headed straight down the hallway to Sam's apartment.

He knocked three times, calling out to Sam as he waited for the blonde-haired boy to open the door. Finally, Sam did, rubbing his eyes and staring at Colby confused.

"Hey dude, did you oversleep?" Colby smirked, "That would be a first."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Colby, his voice still tired. "Um, I'm sorry?"

“Don't you remember? We planned to work out this morning. We talked about it last night.” Colby replied, twirling his keys in his fingers.

“What are you talking about?” Sam scrunched up his face.

“Last night after we filmed your video, we said we should go workout this morning…” Colby chuckled lightly, “Are you okay, brother?”

“I'm sorry, but... do you have the wrong apartment?” Sam asked nicely.

Colby exhaled. “What?”

“You must be looking for someone else, dude. I have no idea who you are.” Sam mumbled to himself, “Or how you know my name…”

“Okay, ha-ha. Very funny. Come on, Sam. Let's go.” Colby stated, taking a step back to leave.

Sam insisted, his voice getting louder. “No seriously, I have no idea who you are.”

“Babe, who is that?” A voice called from inside the apartment.

Colby looked over Sam, seeing Kat walk around the corner in her pjs. Colby glanced above Kat and noticed something off but ignored it.

“Hey Kat, did Sam hit his head last night?” Colby joked.

Sam turned to Kat. “Do you know him?”

Kat took a step back, glancing at Colby quickly. “No, I have no idea who he is. Do you?”

“No, I don't.” Sam shook his head.

“What are you guys on about? Of course, you know me.” Colby hissed.

“Seriously, I have no idea who you are or how you know me. But you gotta leave.” Sam ordered.

“What?” Colby raised an eyebrow, his voice softening, “Is this some type of prank?”

“Leave now, or I'm gonna call security on you.” Sam grunted.

Colby started. “Dude what are you talking-”

Sam slammed the door in Colby's face, locking it loudly. Colby scoffed, staring at the door for a second.

If this is a prank, I'm so gonna get him back for this.

Colby rolled his eyes and went down to the gym. He couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. Why was Sam pranking him if they already filmed last night? Was he trying to film for next week now too? Was this for someone else's video?

I mean, this has to be a prank... right?

Colby shook his head, ignoring the strange thought. Of course, this was a prank. It was probably for Jake's video. Maybe even Kat's. Or Kevin's. Someone was doing it to him. He couldn't remember the last time he had pranked somebody. But whoever he did, they were probably trying to get him back now for it. And they were doing a pretty good job.

Colby jumped onto the treadmill, keeping the pace slow at first as he searched through Spotify to find his playlist. Where was his playlist? As cheesy as it was to listen to the playlist he made for fans, it was filled with his favorite songs, so he would actually listen to it a lot. But now... he couldn't find it.

Where the fuck is it?

He searched, even going to his profile, but it wasn't there. Gone, like it never existed.

Maybe Spotify is acting up. Let me just go to Youtube.

Colby clicked on the app, searching up a song he wanted to hear. Then he paused for a moment, deleting the text he had written and typing in 'sam and colby'.

No results found.

“What?” Colby murmured, twisting up his face.

He then typed in 'colby brock'.

No results found.

Colby's heart sped up in his chest, his breathing quickening. Did his channel get deleted? Why were there no results for his channel, or 'Sam and Colby' for that matter? He finally typed in 'sam golbach', and Sam's channel appeared.

Colby clicked on it, glancing around at the different layout. This wasn't the layout Sam had had before. The only time they change it is when they are starting a new chapter, and they always do it together. Maybe he changed it last minute?

He clicked on Sam's videos. Scrolling through the list of them, he noticed something weird.

Sam always included Colby in the thumbnail. But now... he was nowhere. Now someone different was in the thumbnail, like Jake, Kevin, or even Corey. But... Colby was nowhere.

What the fuck was going on?

Colby clicked on a video he knew he was in, 'This Is How He LOST The Game’. He watched through the first ad, waiting impatiently. Finally, when the video loaded, his eyes widened at what he saw.

He wasn't in the video.

Sam had started the video off like normal, showing all the guys sitting on the couch as he explained the name of the game. But Colby, who knew for a fact he was in this video, was no longer there. His spot empty.

It was one thing to pretend not to know him, it was one thing to remove him from the thumbnails. But to remove him from videos all together...

“It's impossible.” He uttered under his breath.

Colby rushed off the treadmill, no longer in the mood to workout. He ran up to his apartment, feeling his heart bang against his ribcage.

Maybe this is all a weird ass dream? Or an extremely elaborate prank?

Colby went into his closet, deciding he wanted to change out of his clothes into something more comfortable. He gazed over at the corner of his closet, where he kept all of his merch, along with the XPLR ones too.

It was empty.

“What the fuck?” Colby grabbed at the empty hangers, spinning around his closet. He threw open drawers to try and find his merch, but he couldn't find it.

Colby swiped open his phone, sliding to his pictures. He knew him and Sam had a recent photoshoot in the new XPLR merch, so as long as those photos were there, he knew everything's okay.

As he opened his photo album, a certain dread trickled through his body.

Colby never deleted anything off his phone. He wanted to keep as many photos as possible. Plus it was always good to have extra photos in case he didn't have anything to post on his Instagram. But now, every photo he had was different than it once was. He had many photos of him and Sam from their years of friendship. But now every photo that had him and Sam in it... was gone. It was no longer Sam and Colby. It was just... Colby.

I'm not doing this right now. This can't be real.

Colby shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him as he laid back down on his bed. He took some deep breaths, trying to relax. This must just be the most realistic dream he's ever had, and he just needs to go back to sleep and wake up to everything normal again.

Normal... Sam's neon sign was gone.

Colby groaned to himself, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in bed. No, this is not the time to think. I just need to sleep.

As Colby felt himself relax into sleep, his dreams that followed were confusing and dark. Nothing made sense, but all he knew was that he was in a panic.

Colby jolted awake suddenly. He could tell by the way the sun was peeking through his windows that it was later. He opened his phone. 1:34 P.M.

He sighed deeply. Colby was used to waking up on his days off this late. Everything already felt better.

Did I dream all of that? Or was that prank real?

As he slid out of bed to the bathroom, he decided to check twitter. If that was all real, maybe Sam had mentioned the prank to the fans.

Colby opened twitter and nothing seemed out of the usual. He looked at Sam's account, and noticed it was not following him anymore.

He's being extremely thorough, isn't he?

As he went to switch over to the Sam and Colby account, he noticed the icon wasn't there. His fingers twitched as he typed 'sam and colby' into the search bar. Everything but that account showed up. 'Sam and Colby' twitter didn't exist.

A nauseous feeling rolled through Colby's body. Colby went to his profile, looking through the people he followed, not even noticing the significant lack of followers he had. He knew he followed a couple fans, maybe they knew what was up. As he scrolled through, he noticed the usernames were different.

He knew a bunch of fans off-hand. A lot of fan accounts always stuck out to him; and it was easy to remember the username, especially if it was named after him.

But nobody's username was.

He saw a lot of 'Golbach', but no 'Brock' or even 'Golbrock', which he always thought was cute. Not a single username was related to him anymore.

Alright, that's enough.

He angrily clicked on his contacts, needing to call Sam and tell him to call off this prank. It was no longer funny and honestly, he didn't even want to be a part of it anymore. Most pranks he was fine with, but this one was going too far for him.

Colby gasped as he stared at his contacts, dropping his phone like it electrocuted him.

All his friends were missing from his contacts. The only people in his phone were his family, and that was it.

Colby began to hyperventilate, unable to stop the panic that surged through his body. He bore at himself in the mirror, staring at his stress-ridden face. He gripped the counter of his sink, trying to calm himself down.

If he couldn't turn to Sam, who could he turn to?

He picked his phone back up, leaning against his counter as he called his mom. He just needed to know that someone remembered him.

“Hello?” His mother’s voice sang through the phone.

Colby breathed, slightly relaxing against the counter. “Hey Mom, how are you?”

“Hi Cole-baby. I'm doing okay. How are you?” She asked sweetly.

Colby pouted. “Um, I'm feeling a bit... off, to say the least.”

“Oh no, what's wrong?” She responded.

“I know this is gonna sound like a weird question, but do you remember my friend Sam?” Colby questioned, tapping his hand against the counter.

She hummed, guessing. “Sam? Sam... Johnson?”

“What? No. I never knew a Sam Johnson.” Colby rolled his eyes, frustrated, “I mean Sam Golbach. Sam Golbach. Do you remember him?”

“No... should I?” She admitted.

His heart dropped at her words. “Yeah, you should. He's my best friend. We were friends all through high school. We started a literal career together, he's basically your third son at this point.”

“Woah, honey. What are you talking about?” She puzzled.

“You don't remember Sam? He's the whole reason I moved out here, Mom.” He urged, needing his mother to remember.

She paused, then spoke. “Colby, you moved out to LA alone. Last month.”

“What?” He choked.

“You worked all through high school and college and saved up money and just recently moved out there.” She informed.

His eyes widened. “Mom, I've lived in LA for almost five years now.”

Also... college?

“Maybe it feels like five years, but honey, you only moved out a month ago at max.” His mom’s voice softened, lowering slightly. “Are you okay?”

“No momma, apparently not.” He sighed, “Who was I friends with in high school if I wasn’t friends with Sam?”

“Honey, you didn’t have any… or none that you ever brought home.” She mentioned.

Colby queried. “And college?”

“You didn’t really talk about anyone. You were very focused on your schoolwork.” She explained.

That literally doesn’t sound like me at all. I couldn’t even pass math without Sam.

Colby glanced down at his tattoos for a second, pursing his lips. “Another quick question, I was allowed to live in our house with dyed hair, tattoos, and pierced ears?”

She gasped. “Wait what? You got a tattoo?!”

“Mom, I have like five.” Colby deadpanned.

“When did you find the time to get them?!” She hushed, “Cole, you know how I feel about tattoos.”

Colby grew tired. “So, you've never heard of a Sam Golbach before?”

“No, absolutely not. But don't try to change the subject on me, Cole Robert.” She scolded.

He huffed. “I'll talk to you later, momma.”

She sputtered. “What? Don't you-”

Colby clicked ‘End Call’, lowering his head to the counter, taking in a deep breath and holding it.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” He demanded out loud.

Colby jumped up, going to his closet and slipping on some clothes quickly. The only thing he knew for certain is that something wasn't right, and he needed to get out of his apartment and go somewhere else. Anywhere else.

He grabbed his keys and rushed down to the parking lot, getting into his car quickly and driving off.

He drove for a while, finally pulling into another parking lot and turning off his car. He needed to get something to eat, and then maybe he could figure things out. He glanced around and noticed the parking lot he was in was for a diner named Meyer's. He locked his car as he left, swinging the diner's door open hastily. The diner wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. A nice lull of conversations droned on as he sat down at the furthest booth, cracking his knuckles nervously.

He picked up the menu that was already at the table, staring at the front of it. He didn't even realize a waitress had walked up next to him.

"...Are you okay?" The soft voice said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Colby stared up at the waitress, noticing her eyes first. They were captivating and beautiful, much like herself. Her hair shined brightly in the sun that basked through the window. Her smile was wonderful to see after a day of unpleasant looks.

He stuttered. “What? Uh-I. Yeah, no, I'm fine.”

She giggled. “Okay. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Um, a water. No, a soda. Please.” Colby muttered.

“Alright. Coming right up.” She nodded.

Colby stared at the menu again, gazing over the pictures of sandwiches and wraps. He wasn't really hungry, but he felt like he should just eat something, even if it was just to pass the time.

The waitress came back over with his soda, placing it lightly down in front of him. “Are you ready to order?”

“No, not yet.” Colby answered, not looking up from the menu.

“Okay, I'll be right back.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Are you okay? I know I already asked you that but... you look really upset.”

Colby’s shoulders slumped as he gazed up at her. “I-I... don't even know how to explain it.”

“Why? Is it complicated?” She guessed.

“You could say that,” Colby glared down at the menu. “It just doesn't make any sense. It sounds fake, to be honest.”

“Well, you can tell me. I won't judge.” She smiled.

I might as well tell somebody...

“Everyone's... forgotten about me?” Even Colby was confused at his words.

“What do you mean? Like they're ignoring you?” She questioned, her hand resting on her hip.

“No. Like they literally forgot I exist. Or, I somehow don't exist in their lives anymore, when yesterday I did.” He confessed.

She shrugged. “Well, maybe they're trying to ignore you instead of talking things out.”

“No, I don't think you understand. I don't exist to them. They don't know me. Like, at all,” Colby corrected. “My best friend, my brother, the fucking dude I got arrested with, doesn't know who I am.”

“Wait, you've been arrested?” She raised an eyebrow.

“It was just breaking and entering. And having fake IDs,” He commented. “But that's not the point, the point is no one remembers me, but I remember them.”

The waitress stood there silently, awkwardly.

“I don't know what to say.” She whispered.

He gulped. “I don't know either. But if you have a solution, I'd gladly hear it.”

“Maybe it's a prank?” She speculated.

“I thought about that too. But if it is, this is extremely elaborate. And borderline impossible.” Colby disclosed.

She argued nonchalantly. “People do crazy things for social media.”

“Yeah, but even my friends wouldn't take it this far for just a dumb video.” He complained.

“Are your friends famous?” She inquired.

“I wouldn't say that. My best friend is Sam Golbach.” Colby revealed.

“Sam Golbach? Why have I heard that name before?” She asked quietly.

“He's got a lot of followers. He’s a Youtuber.” He pointed out.

“Wait, you're Sam's best friend?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side.

She gasped. “Oh! You're Colby Brock!”

“I'm what?” He stammered.

“You're Colby, right?” She doubted for a second, “Or did I get that wrong?”

Colby jumped up out of his seat. “Oh my God, you know who I am! Wait, how do you know?”

“My one friend is a huge fan of you and Sam. She showed me you guys like a month ago.” She paused for a second, smirking. “She's actually really into you... Maybe I should call her.”

“Please do. I need to know if she knows who I am.” Colby pleaded, sitting back down.

The waitress followed him, sitting across from Colby. “Of course she does, she literally has you set as her wallpaper.”

She pulled out her phone, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her. She clicked on a contact, putting the phone on the table and clicking ‘Speaker’.

“Hello?” A voice broke in through the phone.

She grinned, staring up at Colby. “Hey Sara, you need to come down to the diner real quick.”

“What why?” Sara questioned.

“Colby Brock is here.” She announced.

Sara remarked. “...Who?”

“Colby Brock, the guy you're in love with.” She repeated.

“I have no idea who you're talking about. I've never heard that name before.” Sara denied.

“He's Sam Golbach's friend.” The waitress described.

Sara exclaimed. “Oh my God, is Sam there?! Because I’ll-”

She interjected. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh... then I don't want to come.” Sara recalled, “I've never heard Sam talk about a guy named Colby before.”

Colby swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes falling off of the waitress’.

She fretted. “Okay then. I'll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye.” Sara ended, hanging up the phone.

After a moment of silence, the waitress stated, “I'm sorry about that.”

“What's there to be sorry about?” Colby quavered.

The waitress scoffed suddenly. “Is this some kinda joke?”

“What?” He queried.

“Are you pulling a prank on me? Was Sara in on it? Because I’ll kill her if she met you and didn’t tell me.” She jeered jokingly.

Colby shook his head, deadpanning. “I haven’t met Sara, and I’m not pranking you.”

“How can I know if you’re lying or not?” She questioned, squinting her eyes.

“Google my name. Search me on any social media,” Colby suggested. “I don’t exist.”

“Okay…” She agreed.

The waitress quickly typed in his name into Google, coming up with no images that looked like him. None of his social media links came up either.

She gazed up at him slowly. “This is really weird.”

“You’re telling me.” Colby uttered, “No one remembers me.”

She blurted. “But I do.”

“Yeah… why is that?” He inquired.

“I-I don’t know.” She sputtered, confused. Then she jolted up from her seat instantly. “I-um, gotta go help out my other tables. Do you need me to give you some time to look over the menu?”

“Yes…” He continued, “But one other thing.”

“Sure.” She leaned in, her hands resting on the tabletop.

“Can you help me? Please?” Colby begged, lightly grabbing her hand.

She silently gasped, whispering, “How?”

“I don’t know. But I think you’re the only one that can.” Colby divulged.

The waitress stuttered, but no words fell from her lips.

He exhaled, staring into her eyes. “So, will you?”

| >>

[sondepoch]

Day 4

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

MASTERLIST

Sleep never comes.

You spend the entire night alert, impossibly aware of every car moving around and every voice coming from apartments below. Your senses are on fire, lit up with fear and terror of what's to come.

And by the way Jumin looks at you in the morning, your lack of sleep shows.

"Eat," He says, when his chef brings out an extravagant breakfast. "You look awful."

"Thanks," You mumble sarcastically, not caring about being polite. You clench your jaw when you look down at the food. It's a breakfast fit for a king, a dozen different plates spread between you two. Jumin has placed a portion of baked egg danish with kimchi and bacon onto his plate, and his chef has served him fried eggs with hazelnuts and blackberries. There's a fruit arrangement, two egg and cheese soufflés, and more crumpets than two people would ever be able to consume. And the chef is still placing plates down.

Still, all you can bring to your stomach is a small waffle square that brngs you back to your days in the orphanage, when life had been sweet and peaceful. When your parents hadn't been in the picture.

"Jumin," You begin, voice low. "Before my mom comes. There's something you need to know."

There are a lot of things he needs to know, You can't help but think. And if he knew them, he wouldn't have called my mother, but I have to at least tell him this.

"I'm adopted."

He doesn't even take a pause from his breakfast, not bothering to meet your eyes. "I know."

Your eyes widen.

How?! Your parents have taken every precaution to keep that aspect of their life a secret, never wanting the world to know that they're incapable of producing child.

Jumin must notice the confused look in your eye, though, because he explains: "After you called Luciel...well, I don't know what impression you left him with, but he automatically assumed you were an enemy of mine. He sent me a file on you, thinking that I'd use it to blackmail you to protect myself."

Oh.

No wonder.

The world doesn't know it, but BC-Sonic has invested billions of dollars into user privacy and security, so you'd instantly known that 707, or apparently Luciel, was a top-tier hacker. And then he'd gone back and breached your company's security two more times until BC-Sonic had shifted its algorithms completely. So there's no real surprise that he'd been able to uncover the details of your adoption.

But what else does Luciel know? And more importantly..."What else was in the file?"

Jumin flicks a bored eye up at you, thinking. "Nothing noteworthy. It went in chronological order, so your adoption was the first thing I saw. I didn't look at it much after that point."

A small smile finds its way to your face, despite the situation. Even when he doesn't have to, Jumin always seems to find a way to be a gentleman.

"Can I see the file?" You ask hopefully, needing to know the depth of Luciel's information.

"I already returned it back to him," Jumin responds. "Why? Was there something specific you wanted to know?"

You swallow. Jumin has now stopped eating, putting all his attention on you. Underneath his piercing gaze, you can't help yourself. "Did it say anything about..."

Child abuse?

"...Nevermind," You say quickly, cutting a waffle square and shoving it into your mouth so you have an excuse not to speak.

It's bad enough that Jumin may piece together the truth at the meeting with your mother tomorrow, you have no intentions of bringing it up any earlier than necessary.

"Should I take the day off?" Jumin inquires after a moment. "I've already cleared my schedule for tomorrow, and my assistant should be able to move my meetings for today."

"Why would you need to take today off?" You ask, unable to hide your irritance. "I'm fine."

"Of all the words to describe you right now, fine is not one of them."

You shoot Jumin another glare, but you know he's right. Last night was one of the first sleepless nights you've had in a long time, and your body is not adjusting well. And it doesn't help that every time you think about seeing your mother, the pit in your stomach gets even deeper. But still: you don't want Jumin risking his reputation at C&R on your account.

"There's nothing you can do for me by staying home," You blurt, not caring about how rude it sounds. "Go. We'll see each other in the evening."

Jumin opens his mouth in protest, but you give him no chance, standing up and leaving the room as quickly as possible. A bubble of guilt begins to rise in the depths of your consciousness, where you know that Jumin is simply doing all he can to make sure that both you and his father are happy...but he knows too little of the truth.

And he has too much power, you can't help but think.

That is the one spot of hope you have—that your mother, even if she hurts you tomorrow, won't do it in front of Jumin. She can't possibly be that bold, can she? Not in front of a man with such powerful influence. Even if the meeting brings you pain, it'll be in private, without Jumin ever finding out.

I can only hope, you think absentmindedly. You hear the front door close, signifying Jumin's leave.

You sigh.

Heart heavy with a need to distract yourself before you start shamefully crying once more, you turn to entertainment to preoccupy your thoughts. What should you watch? The Big Mermaid? Cinderemma? The Lion Prince? You turn the TV on and scroll through the titles before selecting Beauty and the Feast, a heartwarming tale about a comely woman and her neverending appetite.

But the moment the credits start rolling, your mind darts back to thoughts of your childhood, and all the pain you'd endured. Absentmindedly, you bring a hand down to your outer thigh and massage the spot, a motion you've done hundreds of times before to soothe yourself.

No, you tell yourself, angrily shifting your hand away. I need to leave those memories—and those habits—in the past. As soon as tomorrow is over, Mother will never lay a hand on me again and I can forget everything. For real, this time.

You turn on One Hundred and One Damnations and force your mind into the setting of the movie, repeating the pattern over and over again until the entire day has gone by like that: angrily binging children's' movies to distract yourself from reality.

You don't even notice that Jumin has returned until he awkwardly coughs. "Is this how you spent your day?" He inquires, one eyebrow raised.

"Better than nightmares all day like yesterday," You respond plainly, scooting over on the couch. You pat the spot expectantly, and Jumin regards you with mild amusement before walking off. You pout for a moment, but then he returns, now with his blazer off and tie loosened. The man sets two wine glasses on the coffee table and pours himself a glass of red, leaving you a glass on the table in case you desire it.

And just like that, you hit the play button and the movie continues.

Except that this time, each time your mind gets pulled away from the movie, it's not your mother you think about. It's the businessman himself: Jumin.

His expression is relaxed, from the wine or the movie you don't know. Even his usually sharp gaze is now softened as he watches Ponald Puck stomp around on the screen. You can't tell if he's actually invested in the movie or not, because every now and then his gaze drifts to the windowed wall, where there's a beautiful sunset, or to the chandelier looming above your heads, or to his reflection in the wine; but there's something utterly mesmerizing about watching him.

He's handsome, you realize. How is it that you've never noticed it before?

It's only the few times that his gaze actually shifts to you that you move your eyes away to focus on the movie, though your thoughts drift back to him soon enough.

"You should sleep," Jumin says quietly, when a new batch of credits rolls onto the screen for the sixth time.

"I don't want sleep," You respond. Though you're certain he understands your real meaning. I don't want nightmares.

Jumin sighs, taking the remote away from you before you can put on another movie. "(Y/N), it's been over twenty-four hours since you last slept. Considerably longer than that, actually. This can't be good for your health."

"I'll make it work."

Before Jumin can answer, your phone begins to buzz. You pull it up, and the entire screen is lit up with Chairman Han's contact picture.

You stiffen. Taking his call is the last thing you want to deal with, right now.

Next to you, Jumin places his wine glass down on the coffee table. His soft gaze flits over you before he takes the phone from your hand. "Hello, father? Ah yes...(Y/N) is already asleep, she left her phone on the table. Of course. Very well, I'm taking the day off tomorrow but I'll tell my assistant to set up a meeting. Oh, no reason...Yes. You as well. Good night."

Jumin hangs up and places the phone next to the wine glass, making no mention of what he just did.

You avert your eyes. "Thank you," You tell him, your voice quiet enough to have been lost in the light breeze from the ceiling fan.

Jumin sighs and turns, all of his attention centered on you. But for once, his gaze isn't calculating as he looks at you, or even sharp. His expression is different tonight, a stormy sky of passionate thunder and lustful wind swirling and mixing all in his gray eyes.

"You can talk to me," He tells you gently, after staring at you for what feels like hours.

Somehow he's managed to pin you to your spot with his eyes alone, and as much as you want to give in—to tell him the truth about your horrid childhood and all your fears of the life you're getting into with Chairman Han—you know that you can't burden him like that. This is your weight to bear, and your life to manage.

"No, Jumin." You tell him. "I can't."

His jaw clenches momentarily and he looks down. In turn, you sigh, hating yourself for denying him. But you have to do it. You can't give in. You can't.

"I want to help you, (Y/N)."

"We don't need to talk for that. Just..." You bring your gaze up to Jumin's, and when your eyes meet you pull your gaze away, staring at your hands. There's only one thing you can ask of Jumin. "Just be here for me."

"Okay," He says, bringing his head lower so that his forehead is resting against yours. "I'm here."

It's...oddly peaceful.

Neither of you move. With each passing second, you feel the weight of your memories and the fears of your future slowly fade, until you're not thinking about them at all and all that remains is the present.

Your breathing slows, and you release a sigh of content when Jumin wraps his larger hands around yours, slowly caressing each finger before rubbing soothing circles on the soft skin. Your mind feels completely empty, devoid of thoughts of your mother and Chairman Han. All that exists in the moment is you.

And him.

And his hand, as it rises to your cheek.

And his thumb, as he delicately tilts your chin upward so that you're meeting his eyes, the blueish grays never being as soft and tender as now. Whatever storm of emotion that was in them before is now cleared. All that remains a silent question: Is this okay?

And as you both lean forward, all that exists is his lips on yours, so gentle and loving but tender with promises of more to come, and nothing can shatter the infinitely precious moment.

Somewhere, in the distance, you hear one of Jumin's clocks strike twelve times.

Midnight.

But even so, as Jumin brings a hand to cup your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, neither of you can bring yourselves to care, and even time doesn't exist in the perfect world you're both immersed in: the worlds of each other.

MASTERLIST 

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: So...If you follow my other fic Where Futures Begin, you'd notice that I haven't been updating....and that's because I physically cannot type with my left hand at all without the process being 10x slower >.> I've been able to keep updating on this story because I've had some prewritten chapters, but Day 5 will probably be on the shorter side if my hand doesn't heal :( My hand is also the reason i've been posting more oneshot fics, I've just been going through drafts and making minor edits >.> I'm sorry for the inconvenience!

Comment & Like

Next Update: 4/25/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

[misterbitches]

Hello! @flootweed replying to the post from before. the long format was killing me. why does tumblr look like this...

I haven’t watched episode 8 yet...or have I? If it’s the most recent one. No.

Is the hornbill a bird? It probably is but I have a terrible memory and I’m dumb so. I skipped the last few weeks because I’m scawwed. How are you liking it? I did see someone say that the hornbill makes sense (without knowing what it is...at all) bc heart transplant patients only live like 5-15 years after but someone in those comments pointed out that he was so young when he got his and that’s pretty rare so he has a higher likelihood of survival. Frankly, this is the only way I will proceed. Since when did shows ever care about the heart transplant health? Never and it needs to stay that way!

What did we think of ep 6? LMAO. I need opinions! And omg it makes me feel special when I can point things out to people because I so...rarely get to LOL. Editing is like one of my favorite things ever so I can be super particular about it but I try to do the thing you do when you’re supposed to see if it works within its context. I’d like to go in with scissors and glue but alas. 

THe mic covering....the rustling....it’s like guys...please. Ironically the audio today wasn’t great. I don’t know why. IDK if you watch c-dramas but I am not even sure what’s worse between them because they dub their dramas. But actually no it’s best to have the dubbing because even tho it is painful they have to put a lot of effort into it. LOL. 

Right? @ Aey! It’s just weird if they would show us more about what he’s done instead of saying he’s done sth bad and not even explaining that....like you could even do some shitty exposition. I think if he is to be a true villain then we really need to be privvy. All the warnings make it seem like he’s a fuckin’ serial killer so when we get the scene of him at home it’s like....actually this is really serious? Maybe his pain is like...for a reason. Althought you won’t even TELL US WHAT HE’S DONE WRONG BESIDES BE JUST FUCKING WEIRD AND ANNOYING! So from what we have it’s just a realllllllll fucked up sad person lol. god i forgot about the dinner! and i totally agree. he really needs them to succeed. i like your theory because it would make the scene where he like blocks the twitter user make more sense. he also says they dont really know each other etc so it’s realllllyyyyy probable that he just sees it as a way out. if not then we shall pretend u wrote it :)

god yea i wouldnt say it is art but i also guess we technically have to since it is technically. in the way that technically performance artists are artists but mostly i uh technically ignore them. Also one of my fav BLs is called the best twins. If you do not know what it is I will not elaborate further.t 

i want to know more abt poli sci majors lmao but they sound DRAMATIC/ hopefully most ppl in ur cohort arent losers! 

hahahha i understand. there was just a thing on twitter about DSA and then the day before about reading discourse. the same thiings. over. and over. and over. and over. we are our own worst enemies but also our own best friends? but i hate tankies and that wont change. but hasan’s a decent guy. he said sth abt black ppl during biden’s primaries in GA or whatever and i was like chill. but he’s insecure and has adhd which means ur more open to being wrong and changing otherwise u will suffocate and die. 

and totally about hiding fuck ups. i’ve tried really hard bc of organizing IRL to like...be honest, question, etc but also like...approach it naturally? because if you’re trying to be perfect and so worried you’ll fuck up you don’t realize that puts  more stress on you, makes you seem like a robot, and could potentially not make you realize the mistkaes you made. also if we’re privileged in certain spaces there is just no possible way we won’t get something wrong. im light and i know that honestly any way to speak up on colorism is going to be difficult and that’s a space where i have power so i just have to figure it out. we should be uncomfortable because we have to sit with unpleasant feelings and sort through our own whatever. that just makes the next time even better and people can trust u more.  i think some people sweat it sooo much or maybe they think their personal life and what theyve been through is more the norm? on the other hand people can be sf reactionary in the worst way and idk what their issue is. there was also a user who said sth very inch arresting about tankies which i thoroughly enjoyed (how like violent lefitsts or tankies / ppl who are like ooh a gun whatever just want to be violent in another space so they have shit tendencies from jump and nothing of substance which i think i agree with tbh fo ra lottttt of ppl. like their anger is actually like “no im about to beat that ass” instead of what we actually want to get done) 

sort of in the same vein re: taking it easy...we coudl all be more understanding too. to slow it down like you mentioned about not being privvy to fucking eveyrthing and saying anything on our mind. i saw this person talk about y2k which was a huge deal while happening bc it was the turn of the millenium (bruh were u even alive?) but this twitter user grew up in a super super SUPER religious household and was like why do ppl make jokes about Y2K it was insanely traumatizing? though my first instinct was confused ive tried hard to like look more before i judge especially thanks to a friend of mine. turns out that with the further reading the more we found out he was just really traumatized; it was very common in religious households to be afraid of 2000. so we could have come at him with no understanding and he could have thought that everyone had the same experience with that year that he did. his feelings sit precedent though but i think it was just very hard for him to fathom. 

i didnt reply bc he didnt need that and what could i have said? he’ll see what the truth is with exposure and unfortunately this was something he really did go through. 

and that’s what makes most people think others could be over the top. because it sounded ridiculous but then it was this huge traumatic thing that we could have never known about. so maybe when someone sounds like actually crazy they have an explanation? of course some ppl are just batshit or annoying but that’s anywhere not just leftists it’ just means more i guess when a ~~librul is annoyed~ but it can be easy to want to make fun of ppl too. lmao.  basically what i am saying is the internet? especially twitter? for leftists? in this economy? bitch it’s the wild west out here.

i am 29! idk if i said it or not. i am OLD u probably werent even born in the year i was talking about wah. i know not old-old or old at all but compared to you i’m due for a colonoscopy.

omg i hope u can get vaxxed soon! are you wfh rn? i hope ur also not in a bad state as in state state not state as in ur being :| bleh what a fucking time. it sucks that you have to fucking do work. well unless u like school. which i hope u do. i just assume everyone hates it cos i did lmao

was it the lindsay ellis drama? that bitch is dumb. if there was other drama oh wait the drama i was referring to it all happened on the same day. idk book twitter that well but i saw something from someone who was abt that shit and wowie! the american people are not that.....intelligent to put it lightly.

i’ll get better. ppl tell me they miss me and im like aw. i have insanellllyyy bad insomnia and a lot of stuff happened this year HOWEVER I SLEPT FOR TWO DAYS FOR 8 HOURS AT A REASONABLE TIME. im a new woman.  anyways you too! i hope ur not too burnt out with school. we just dont know when the burnout is or we just dont know we are burnt out until we are. the panaramiciccici hit and all the things i was ignoring kind of just fell on me and sooo much happened at once. and frankly it’s hard to take care of ourselves. lord. 

Like if you aren’t interested in expanding on the issue in a way that hasn’t been done before all you gotta do it like… spread resources and donate if you can. I dont see the point in having to say something about every issue especially if you (not at you specifically just in general) aren’t immediately impacted by the issue. Like is the 14 yr old white marxist named sarah on twitter really gonna have meaningful insight on anti-asian violence ?

this is part of why i cannot telecommunicate. i dont want to do shit on the internet. i am able bodied so i know that this time has been of such ease for other people. but mentally i just can’t. i don’t have a comment on hand like that and i hvae no desire to engage with ppl that way. i am a super super super solitary person but thats bc it’s MY time so when it’s like all this effort with other people i dont ever want to be alone. it’s the same with the way i approach filmmaking. it isnt a sole thing so i hate it not together. that’s part of how u can get so sucked in and repeat doom scrolling. i was in this webinar last may after [redacted] and this black woman prof said “read with a community and talk” because otherwise she said we are torturing ourselves. you can’t carry that weight all on your own. unfortunately i hate zoom, discord, slack, signal, whatsapp, facetime. you name it this panera has made it evi.. L

you make a really excellent point. i think the young young gen zers are really really just interesting because it’s like this whole new world for them with leftist politics and they just can’t grasp the horrors of the world and the kind of freedom being a leftist can bring. and so many people don’t grow out of it. those people so happen to be the “least productive” in terms of how much time they spend IRL withe these issues. naturally, younger kids are gonna have a harder time. they are not as mobile as well so the internet becomes this place. but then it’s this echo chamber. and many times just things posted without sources. and social media NEEDS that to exist.

i think of the irony of leftist kids on tik tok and while i am happy it’s reaching them it’s just....different. very different. the growth of social media is so good but also so fucking sad, it’s too much! i think the point about not writing everything is major. even i have to do this which is part of the disappearing.y ou need to detach and make sure your head is on straight again. but when you think eveyrone has to be privvy to every thought and you can’t just sit back....which twitter and social media doesn’t encourage. you have to join in. that’s often why when i have something to say it is dense because i don’t feel like repeating it. ever. lmao ust ever. i cant pay attn. social media is a fucking minefield for my brain u can get so lost in it and absorb it but once u start talking you may not be able to stop. 

i think a big part of that is it not being a leisurely thing but sort of just in our lives always. this sounds like a grandpa rant but ykwim. We dont have to see the same thing over and over again. And eventually it gets sincerely diluted or its diluted bc of capitalism or whatever. Or if theyre very young or maybe they don’t have like the greatest way of sharing the knowledge? then it can be butchered. I hope this is making sense...i’m talking beyoond the boring surface-level milquetoast shit. i see really ahistorical stuff on there from leftists (like this thing about NK + africa and it being a beneficial rship as opposed to a um not beneficial one. and it isn’t.  beneficial but this young black girl was talking abt it and noname rtd and i was like it’s just too complex. there’s no good/bad here just bc it’s not america. dont get me started on this.)

but Lol that was kinda off topic but I think what I meant in my last reply about not turning off the voice in my head is about when I consume media, not necessarily when I’m online talking about. Even if I have criticism for something, I’m usually pretty chill when consuming fandom content bc I think being serious online all the time is kinda boring. Like sometimes I’m analyzing theme and shit but really most of the time im memeing.

exactly.........gotta laugh. thats why sometimes im like i cant think lmao. unfrotunately i have been ARGUING with ppl on the internet for rly no reason when  i could have replied to ur very nice fun wholesome message. i love torture. i miss memes.

“ i think the people who get the least enjoyment out of that are those so obsessed with getting upset with anyone thinking outside of their lines as if it equates to them “ EXACTLYYYYY

kekekekeke im glad u got it. it’s like with conservatives throwing around snowflake. now im beginning to question who the real complainers are. 

LMAO exactlyyyy. i posted a screenshot of this writer from twitter saying that exact thing. Like first of all, I’m...an adult? and if you are as well uh? i’m sorry for you but are we 12? But how is it affecting u this viscerally? And if it does why dont u...do...research? pihgofuaipoajghou but honestly everything u said. we’re trained to go into it with nothing. i was only around ur age when i started to get more serious about this stuff but you’re like lightyears ahead of where i was at 21. did i say this but i’m in iww and literally i can tell u in 2016 i did not think 2019 me would be in a union bc i told my friend in a train station that we don’t need unions. i was 23...but the thing is i didnt know what i was talking about. at all. and i knew i didnt know and she knew i didnt know and now i am the clown.

also yes at critical engagement. i had to learn so much through experience and this is tuff that i coudlnt be shielded from. there’s an empathy you kinda have to develop and this understanding that you move through the world as this person who is “nowhere and everywhere; nothing and everything” so i’ve always had to think about things differently just to survive. that’s also what can drag a lot of people towards it like theres so many black kpop fans bc i think a lot of the pain in SK can be mirrored (sort of) through our history. and theres currently a history now but it had to be forged. uh what was my point oh yea however i wouldnt have been able to move further if i didnt have my background to go off of  bc i knew something was off when i started getting into all these things (ill give u a hint) but if i had no prior knowledge and didnt have to think about it then the critical approach is either stale or stupid. 

i had to research but i dont understand how ppl are so bold with little to no research and understanding? thhey just inherently know with also like ZERO experience in what they need experience in. engaging critically means “how i see the world” with dashes of trying to be open adn understanding or whatever. actually that’s another thing like being afraid of criticizing things bc theyre foreign to you so u give it a pass (like we discussed) but it doesnt hAVE TO BEEEE JUST REAAAAAD and then take all the info ur teensy brain and apply it. be a normal human being and dont be fucking rude and racist. thats it! u can complain abt literally anything without being a dick.

as we start with LW and end with LW.....what do we think (i asked this already) omg please share wbl thoughts i THINK i know what ur talking about. well it could be two things; their rship when they came back and the physicality and then pei shou yi. i almost dont even want to use my brain to fucking look at that. i think wbl can get away with more bc of visual~*~*~* reasons (like literally, the look of the show. there’s more space to get lost in the frames. many thai dramas are a lot more literal? this isn’t the right word but it’s very heavily character focused particularly bc of $ i think) though good production also underscores flaws so i am also wrong. but like do u know what i mean? u have to kinda focus on it? or maybe it’s just cos like.....ur so used to it in thai bl idek. i’ve seen tw bl ofc. 

look i swear i will justify this forever bc there are some things we miss right but if u feel like someone’s a bad actor....theyre bad. it’s about tone movement etc etc etc and since most thai bl productions have 0 interest in that....well. they take these newbies and put them in these situations. we dont understand thai but if we see them and we’re like “wow this is really bad” then they’re bad lmao. IDC i will never be like cos idk what theyre saying NO WHY HE LOOK LIKE A ROBOT???????? DOES HE EMOTE? why is he CRYING WITH NO TEARS? and it’s not even a total requisite to cry with tears(i mean for me it is) but it’s just like what is happening on ur face right now young man????????

painful.

the inflection stuff is very valid ooh good point tho but that’s only a part of the piece. plus we get used to the way they communicate. like the ppl from sotus were prtty bad. i dont like that show but thats an ex of ppl liing the actors and the person i thought was better other ppl dont think that? well apparently hes a shitty guy but. um. so when theres decent acting its so glaring.

although i must say even tho i dont care for 2gether anymore and would never like to be reminded about its existence (only bc i just cringe lol) i honestly....didnt think bright was a bad actor? but people keep saying he is and i am much more inclined to believe them than myself. though i am not often dickmatized that could have been it. until he opened his mouth and ruined it and then i stopped paying attn.

although honestly i’m so much more critical than i could be positive. i have ben stumped for the last day about how i wasnt mad at his acting in the show. is it me? is it him? who’s......the wrong one.....(me) 

oh shit they have been denied? i haven’t been paying attn to whats been going on recently. i just got into it on MDL because of snowdrop. sometimes i literally cannot engage bc ill just be like alright well im black so this power button in my head is going off when ppl talk abt that shit. back in the day when kpop jawns were saying some real outta pocket anti black shit (now everyone is slick with it) it’d always be THEY DONT HAVE GOOGLE THEYVE NEVER SEEN A BLACK PERSON but really it’s like no...maybe they are just racist? that’s ok too.

also the past 2 weeks have been um atrocious bc how fucking easily people fell into the pit of white supremacy and started to turn their ire towards black people and making a competition between our groups just like they wanted. it’s not about the women who are dead anymore, who were sex workers, their womanhood, being asian, being poor anymore. it’s about how much black people get attention and why people only pay attn to us. i am not feeling very generous this week for ppl to excuse that hsit.

on a lighter note, ppl say that abt the whole husband and wife thing. i dont know how to explain how angry that shit makes me but maybe it’s because i do not want to think of my body in relation to a fucking penis at all hours of the day. if bls could kindly not do that it would be nice lmao 

yes there are a lot of those. who are only there to gawk lmao. and just idk worship bc of the cult of personality thing bc of how weird and open they have to be as actors. some of the others are people who /think/ theyre really smart (i think im asmart but i also think i am very dumb and i have adhd to prove that MEDICALLY!!!) but are actually not? or their observations arent great? or idk if they are they arent interesting? but i think well..........we have more refined palettes :P

jk also theres just different personalities. you and  i mesh more bc we have a lot of the same beliefs and are coming from the same place. that makes it easier to understand as well. i really try to remember that but some people are really weird so. again just...the perception of certain things even down to acting skills. but i also dont like.......believe this genre can really do anything at all. on one hand i want them to do it right bc it’s a piece of work so they should. be proud of it. cos most things arent advancing us bc representation and culturalism are a lie bla bla. it’s just that when the depictions are negative or not done well it adds to the problem as opposed to the things that are well done are fairly benign and can’t really pull us back (perf example is the black panther film. i woudl definitely not say it was transgressive as a literal work but visually it’s just stunning. and it’s sad that it’s stunning and surprising but still with basically an all black cast of mostly dark people abd like what it means in the zeitgeist yes. it’s also just a good movie. but it’s still imperialist prop and unfortunately and this is fucking pathetic to say it “opened eyes” in other countries where they hate black ppl and ignore their own racialized minorities HENNYWAYSSSS a better ex is moonlight except moonlight isnt mainstream and is indie tho...still thru a funnel of capital bc a24 but who cares bleed the fuckers dry is my motto. my point is moonlight is both a great work and doesnt bring any failures to the table and its existence helps in ways outside of art but they arent the defining things giving us material advancement sooooo i mean it’s complex (this is my conclusion to everything um guys it’s complex) 

er i had one more point in conjunction to above. oh yea so i like dont need all these extra things to make it progressive. like people really want more women in the show and i am honestly like i really dont. i dont want them to actively do this. if they cant do it naturally then let someone else do it. i am not asking for more bc i dont want it from them. when something comes along i embrace it but i do not see why women should be represented when the genre RELIES on patriarchy. there is no complete satisfying existence for the women in these series. i dont want it. i dont ask people to show us~*~* or respect~* like fuck no the people who make it make it and hopefully more will make it in the future but i will not beg bc THEY DONT WANT TO DO IT SO WOULD FORCING IT MAKE IT BETTER? just fucking leave them out entirely. that’s the answer if theyre gonna make nasty female characters then those bitches can geaux. we have other plcaes to be. booked. and. BUSY!

[angel-deux-writes]

I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this On Here, but I really want to tell the story of the guy who put in my kitchen floors because it was terrifying

im putting it under a cut bc it’s probably not that long, but who knows.

(scrolled back up after i actually wrote it to confirm that it is in fact long)

Some backstory is that I was INCREDIBLY lucky and got my condo very cheap in a neighborhood I already knew I loved. The other unit I’d looked at was a full 30k over my budget, but this one was perfect because the owner hadn’t updated ANYTHING since it was built in 1985, so it was just...awful. Awful rugs, awful floors, awful walls. My dad is like...the dad who loves a project, so he was all “I can fix all of this except the floors!!! it’ll be great!!”, so I bought it. We hired a local company to do the floors, not wanting to go to Home Depot or whatever (Which i still support in theory, just......not this company lmao). Everything except the kitchen and bathroom was originally carpet. Hallways, stairs, every single room. And it was cheap industrial carpet, too. Like the kind in office buildings. The dude who did the carpet was like “what the fuck were they thinking???” 

Also, one of the carpets had a truly upsetting rusty stain, so. My guest bedroom might be haunted. 

Anyway, the carpet guy was great. He was the owner of the company, and he was older and very kind. I had my mom come over with me when he was doing the carpets, but I didn’t even need her there. He was cool. His son was in charge of the hardwood portion (I say “hardwood”. I mean, like, the cheapest laminate while still looking nice lmao). He was less great. He had a team of like 3 dudes and 1 lady who would show up and work, doing my office/dining room and upstairs hallway. I know carpet is easier, but the carpet guy took one day, and these guys took a week and a half. They messed up a few times, and it was kind of stressful, but overall it was okay. They had to redo all the subfloors, because condos built in 1985 were almost universally built in buckwild, impossible-to-explain ways, so it took forever. The hardwood guys were loud as hell, but they were nice! 

At one point, one of the nicest guys accidentally broke a few of my kitchen tiles while putting in the transition from the wood to the tile. I was cool with it, tbh, but he offered a discount on a new kitchen floor because, shocker, the subfloor under the broken tile was really jacked up, and it wouldn’t be as simple as taking a tile from under the fridge and replacing it. I was like, okay, cool! We set it up. 

I did not hear from them for four months. Which, I get it. It was a discounted job, so obviously they wanted to do full-price jobs first. I have no problem with that. The same hardwood guys came back to do the subfloor, and then they were like “okay [the owner’s son] will contact you about the tiles. That took about a week. Finally, I got a date. It was a Friday, a day when my sister was already working from home, so she was like “yeah, I can handle it.” She works in interior design, so she’s used to dealing with construction people, and she was REALLY useful when it came to talking down the son of the owner, who was like...every bad stereotype about contractors meshed with a used car salesman. 

So I’m at work the day the tiling is supposed happen. My sister is fine at first, texting me about how the son showed up with one single guy, and then left, so it was only the single guy working. She was annoyed like “it’s supposed to take one day, right? That’s what they said? There’s no way he’s finishing at this pace. Why are they making this guy do the whole thing by himself?”. She called him “nice, kind of cute, but a very slow worker”. I was like ‘well, if they have to come back tomorrow, whatever, that’s fine’.”

Around 10:30 she starts texting me increasingly insane shit. 

“He’s talking to himself downstairs? Maybe he’s on the phone”. 

“He keeps dropping stuff and yelling SHIT really loudly.”

“Someone just showed up with a bag, and he let them in, and they chatted in the kitchen for like ten minutes, and then the person left, and they didn’t take the bag with them”. 

“He’s standing outside using the tile cutter and SCREAMING whenever it’s on.”

“He’s out in the rain and shout-singing something while he’s cutting tile”

“He is BARKING LIKE A DOG TO THE TUNE OF THE RUGRATS THEME SONG CAN YOU PLEASE COME HOME”

I’m half convinced she’s making this shit up, but she’s uncomfortable so I tell my boss what’s going on and race home. When I get there, there’s a vaguely adam driver looking guy who seems nice enough. A little startled to see me, but we make pleasant conversation, I see that he’s not very far along, and then I go upstairs to see my sister. I brought her takeout as a treat, and we sit there for a while talking about normal things. Gradually, downstairs, the dude starts talking to himself. I’m thinking that’s still not THAT weird. Then he starts singing and clapping along. Okay, a BIT weird, but not terrible. I decide to go downstairs into the living room and play some Playstation. Like, maybe he thinks we can’t hear him upstairs and he’ll be more chill when i’m down there? NOPE! HE ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT! He does the barking thing again (and it is, in fact, the rugrats theme song), he’s working at a pace of about one tile per hour, and he starts singing a song that consists only of the word “bitch” over and over again. 

I’m texting my dad, freaking out, and he tries to get in contact with the owner or his son, but nobody’s answering the phone. My other sister and her friend are on their way for game night. My sister’s boyfriend should be home soon from work, but not soon enough. It is, at this point, 7 pm. There is absolutely no chance he’s getting these tiles done today. He’s not even halfway done. My kitchen is VERY SMALL, by the way, so this reasonably could have been done in a day with two people, but I suspect that because it was a discount job, we got the discount treatment. 

My other sister and her friend show up, and the guy is perfectly pleasant and normal to them. We all go upstairs into my sister’s room, and we sit there, waiting in silence for it to start again, hoping that maybe with more people in the house, he’ll be okay. 

NOPE! He starts singing the “bitch” song again. I distinctly remember my other sister whispering “I love this song” and pretending to groove, which was kind of funny but NOT THE TIME. I’m sitting on my sister’s bed clutching a camp axe like a maniac, because I’m like “we are going to be killed by this giant kylo ren asshole”. I’m still texting my dad, who’s like “if you need me to come over, I can, i’m out of work”, but at this point it’s almost 8 and I’m also thinking about my neighbors. Like, he can’t be here at night. He just can’t. He’s so loud even just doing regular tile things! 

I muster up LITERALLY EVERY IOTA OF COURAGE THAT I HAVE, and I head downstairs. I ask him when he’s planning on wrapping up, because I know there’s no way he’s going to finish tonight. He tells me it’ll probably take about two more hours. That is 1) absolutely not true and 2) not something I’m willing to deal with because I live in a condo with neighbors on either side of me, and one of my neighbors is a truck driver who gets up at like 4 am! So I explain that my friends and I have an obligation to get to, and I would love it if we could arrange for someone to continue the work tomorrow. He’s SUPER NICE ABOUT IT and is like “oh, okay, no problem!” He leaves. Just...walks into the rain. Leaves all his tools and his tile cutter. I move it inside because it was on my front porch and it is, again, raining. 

My sister, a Nancy Drew Game fiend, starts searching the entire downstairs and eventually finds the plastic bag that someone brought him. My other sister, who is a nurse in a hospital that primarily treats overdose patients, is like “yep, that’s drug residue for sure”. I’m like, okay, so he didn’t hurt any of us, and he was nice, just....high and weird. But it’s over now, so whatever. My dad says he’ll call the owner’s son the next day, and everything’s cool. He also says that he, my mom, and my brother will all come over to watch the football game at my house the next day just to be there (which...im less than thrilled about the football part, but sure). I also beg my friend to drive up from the Cape to pick up his hat that he left at my condo over the summer just so he can chill for a few hours in the morning. 

The next day, the same guy returns, with the owner’s son this time. The owner’s son is like “why did you only get this far along?” but otherwise doesn’t really say anything. The barking guy is TOTALLY FINE, totally polite. My friend lingers as long as he can, but there’s an ice storm coming, so he peaces out eventually. I’m alone for about an hour with the guy, and nothing happens. He’s quiet, even when the owner’s son peaces for a bit. My parents show up, we watch the football game, and nothing happens. I feel like A LUNATIC, because my dad is like “he seems fine now” and I’m like NO BUT YESTERDAY WAS TERRIFYING. 

Anyway, so that’s the story. I didn’t end up saying anything to the owner’s son, but my dad reamed him out a bit for sending only one person to do a job meant for two. And now every time I drive by that business I suppress a shudder, and sometimes the barking version of the Rugrats theme song still gets stuck in my head.

[toziers]

can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts. 

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention. 

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable  with “notsfw” and “bill hader”. 

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs. 

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves. 

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over. 

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag. 

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti. 

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself. 

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog). 

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine. 

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts. 

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again. 

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content. 

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning. 

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves. 

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree). 

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen. 

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that 

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19. 

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in). 

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry. 

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has. 

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink. 

[beanarie]

⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐ (or talk more about and/all of your Elementary WIPs/ideas bc I want every single drop I can get)

so i totally wrote about joan having breast cancer a couple years ago. here’s the bits i cobbled together, some of which also disappeared from my phone, which tells me i need to back my shit up more often!

~

The call comes while her stitches from her lumpectomy and lymph node removal are still in place and hurting like a mother and she's only too aware of Sherlock, his terror an acrid smell in her nose. She's told it's not what they hoped, but it's not hopeless, and she barely pauses at all before she looks at Sherlock, smiles, and says, "It's fine."

He's so grateful he takes her out for lunch. They go to a cafe with an outdoor area that he knows she's been eyeing for months.  She orders a giant salad with extra pecans and he wrinkles his nose before telling a story about Thomas Jefferson's penchant for giving pecans as gifts.

The call comes while her stitches from her lumpectomy and lymph node removal are still in place and hurting like a mother and she's only too aware of Sherlock, his terror an acrid smell in her nose. She's told it's not what they hoped, but it's not hopeless, and she barely pauses at all before she looks at Sherlock, smiles, and says, "It's fine."

He's so grateful he takes her out for lunch. They go to a cafe with an outdoor area that he knows she's been eyeing for months.  She orders a giant salad with extra pecans and he wrinkles his nose before telling a story about Thomas Jefferson's penchant for giving pecans as gifts.

[the truth comes out in a week or so!]

"We should talk about this."

He closes the file in his hand and tosses it on the stack. 

"I-I'm sorry I kept you in the dark. I needed to get the full results and figure out what to do next, without... I don't know. Background noise."

"It's not that serious. People with results like mine have a ninety-three percent chance of remaining cancer-free after treatment. Really, it's barely cancer." 

"I mean, yes. Several weeks of radiation, sprinkled with tests and maybe a PET scan or two. Still, not particularly life-derailing. I'm going to work. The only real change will be to my availability. And I won't be able to leave the city, except maybe on the weekends. Overall, we'll simply get more use out of face-time than we did before."

A series of short, shallow nods urges her to let the other shoe drop.

Joan adjusts her gaze to slightly beyond his left ear. "I've asked Lin to help me find a place to sublet for the next two months."

His only reaction is the barely perceptible droop of his shoulders.

"I'm not leaving you." The first time she meant to leave the brownstone, he abducted a contract killer, then tortured and stabbed him. The second time, he went back to London for almost a year with no notice beyond a short Dear Joan letter. She can't handle one of his signature extreme overreactions. "Sherlock, it's really important you absorb that, if nothing else."

"But you do plan on leaving."

"It's the least disruptive option for both of us. And it's only temporary."

[the next day, joan gets home and in the library there's a stack of books, dvds, and cd's on wellness-type things and other stuff, like a giant fluffy orange blanket on the couch. sherlock explains he did some research, orange is a calming color. also OK HE RESPECTS HER CHOICES but. she's not a disruption, she's family. also also moving is one of the most stress-inducing acts a person can put themselves through and it wouldn't be good for her recovery to do that twice in as many months. anyway, she stays.]

"We should formulate a safety plan."

Joan finishes the line she was working on and clicks save so she doesn't have to end up doing this report all over again. This has his second sponsor written all over it. Rashida, having completed her PHD, has been taking classes in behavioral science possibly with an eye for a new specialty. She means well, and she and Sherlock get each other like a pair of esoteric intellectuals only could. It's still strange to get confirmation that he talks about her illness with other people. "A safety plan."

"Yes! A short, memorable list of agreed upon actions in the case of emergent medical and/or emotional, um, turmoil."

"We never had a safety plan for you."

 "Didn't we?"

"Fine, so you'll let me pass out wherever I drop and just leave a protein bar by my head so I don't die of hypoglycemic shock when I wake up two days later."

"That's all you did?"

"So I'll let you know if I'm not feeling well and up to whatever's going on." His expression is unreadable, which is rare. "What? You implied pretty heavily that you wanted me to."

Incomprehensibly, his expression becomes almost sad. "That's why you remain so closed off, because of my history of resistance to..." 

"Okay, this conversation swerved past making sense. I tell you things all the time. This morning, with your cereal?"

"When *truly* bothered, you keep it to yourself and speak to no one, unless I draw it out of you."

"I speak up when I have something to say. And, I will."

-

"Have you considered cutting your hair?" 

"I'm not getting chemo, Mom. I told you."

"I know. It's just so much to take care of. My cousin Darlene, she had radiation. It drained her. You'll be tired."

"You've always wanted me to cut my hair."

Her expression grows softer, more wistful. "I do like it shorter." 

"I remember." Ruefully her entire catalogue of school photos scrolls through her memory. Mom's rule had been adamant and easy to follow: Never past the chin. "I'm not doing that again."

"Okay. Your choice." 

Joan doesn't rise to the hint of passive-aggression. 

A few hours later, she gets home from treatment, she takes a shower, and she tries to see tonight playing out in a possible near future. She adds imaginary weights to her wrists and ankles, and the almost unbearable weariness after watching a murderer get to go home scot-free. 

"Fine," she tells her reflection. 

She puts her mom on FaceTime, so she can see the results.

Her mom squints. "You didn't cut that much."

"Four inches." Just enough so she doesn't have to strain to get the brush through while she's blow drying.

“Hm.“

“Anyway, I’ll see you Thursday for tea, Mom?“

-

Lord save her from aspiring criminals who think they're too cool for the interrogation room. Anthony Raymond has been stonewalling them since Bell brought him in. What makes this especially annoying is he won't even ask for a lawyer. They'd tell him to spill his guts, or at least start negotiations for a deal. This nothingness isn't ideal when she has to take off for treatment soon. If she doesn't get this nut cracked before she goes, it'll be hanging over her head for the rest of the afternoon.

The door opens. Anthony doesn't move a muscle. Gregson enters bearing an extra-large fountain drink, a pen, and a piece of paper. He sits, thoughtfully configuring these objects around his immediate space. It takes a full thirty seconds, during which he doesn't acknowledge Anthony at all. He slides the paper toward Joan.

'Paige made you a smoothie. Not sure what's in this, but she swears by it.'

Joan glances at Anthony as though she learned something important, then looks back at the note. "Hm." She takes the pen. 'I'm good. Thank you both.'

'Holmes said you haven't really eaten yet.' He pushes the drink about an inch in her direction.

Joan makes two straight lines, one each for 'I'm' and 'Good'. 

[perp eventually cracks because their note-passing is freaking him out]

[slightly later, joan brings the smoothie into gregson's office. he asks what she thought of it. she says "i didn't try it" and throws it in the garbage.]

-

It's Saturday, the end of her first week of treatment, and there aren't any murders. Joan texts the guy she liked from TrueRomantix, the one who came to check that she was safe when Everyone doxxed her and hacked her profile. He's still cute. She can't remember exactly why they didn't sleep together the last time, something about it not feeling right. Meanwhile he fosters seeing-eye dogs and he has the best pectorals she's ever seen.

She takes off her bra, but leaves the camisole. It's dark in his bedroom, but not too dark for either of them to see her scars or the semi-circle constellation of radiation tattoos. At one point she guides his hand underneath to her right breast. When he goes for the left, she distracts with a move that almost has his eyes bugging out of his head.

"Wow," he breathes.

When they're done, he doesn't push her to leave *or* ask her why she isn't staying. They'll be doing this again sometime.

-

[another patient in the waiting room at the radiation clinic starts having a medical emergency. joan immediately jumps forward to help and the patient's mom looks at her like who the fuck are you. it sticks with her the whole rest of the afternoon.]

She's been in a position where people have doubted her expertise before, many times. But never because she was meant to be on the other side. She's a patient, that's her role now.

Briefly she considers lying. The Uber app is acting weird, something like that. She settles on a simple, 'Are you busy?'

She gets her reply in less than thirty seconds. 'Need a ride?'

When Marcus arrives at the clinic, he touches her arm and kisses her cheek, a note of intimacy between close friends. It feels natural, even though his customary greeting, usually at crime scenes or the bull pen, is a brusquely friendly "Hey." They communicate mainly in nods and smiles intended only for each other, cups of coffee as close to the way they like it as limited resources will allow. 

After they settle into the car, he doesn't turn the engine on right away. He waits, unobtrusively.  

"I don't want to disrupt any plans you might've had for today," she says.

He lifts one shoulder. "Just a pickup game. Nothing I can't put off for another week."

"Actually..."

He turns his head. "Hm?"

She was warned not to expect anything fancy. No bleachers, not much crowd. Kids of varying ages drift by, many popping in and out of the tiny storefronts. 

She can't remember the last time she simply existed in public when she wasn't jogging or staking out a criminal. The open air feels refreshing. Not one of these people care that she used to be a doctor.

After the first quarter, she asks to borrow the chair of a guy selling hats, scarves, and phone chargers from a folding table. He was spending most of his time at the halal cart talking to the man stuck inside anyway.

-

The chair is comfortable. The lighting tasteful. Joan's shoes feel fine. The mid-level exec at the other end of the table isn't stonewalling in the slightest. His voice could almost be called soothing. 

All those other things aside, if this meeting doesn't end in the next few minutes she is going to jump out the window. 

Her knee bouncing, she shifts her upper body in a way that's hopefully not that visible to anyone else. It doesn't help, in fact the resulting movement of her bra over her left boob makes her want to scream.

"We appreciate your elucidation on Mr. Wallach's movements last Tuesday." Joan nearly bites her lip at the growing light at the end of the tunnel. "Now if you could tell us about the lawsuit from three months ago. Sexual harassment, was it not?"

Joan gets to her feet with a repressed groan. Then she runs for the receptionist. "Restroom?"

She's just stepped inside the single stall and slid the lock into place when she hears the deathly urgent, "WATSON???"

She curses fluently inside her head and undoes the lock, just in case. "Sherlock! I'm o-"

And he's barreled through the open door.

"What the hell!" She pulls together the unbuttoned half of her shirt. 

"I thought-" Over Sherlock's shoulder, a security guard starts coming into view. "What-what are you doing?"

"Sorry." Her face will probably remain this garish shade of red for...ever. "I'm, uh, peeling. Itch is driving me crazy."

He blinks, adrenaline making him shake slightly and keeping him from comprehending. "What?!"

"The only emergency right now is my imminent death by mortification." Her left hand tightly curled to protect her modesty, she makes a shooing motion with her right. "Go away."

He turns toward the door, then stops. "I've done the reading. If you have developed a rash, or the beginnings of dermatitis, scratching is highly inad-"

"OUT."

-

Lin greets her at the bar in her signature neurotically enthusiastic way. After tilting her head a little, she agrees to sit at a booth rather than stay near the bartender, where she loves to try out her charms to get free drinks for the two of them.

"I've never seen you go hard like this." She's waiting on the server to bring her second martini and Joan's third whiskey. "You look tired."

Joan waits until after the drinks have arrived. "Thanks, I had cancer."

"What?"

"Had," she repeats. "Had. As of yesterday, it's past tense. When I'm done with this course of radiation, I'll be free." She knocks on the table. "Until the follow-ups." 

Lin gets up to go to the bathroom without a word. Joan downs her drink and orders another round. To Lin's credit, she beats the server back to the table.

"So those times you said you couldn't meet up because you had cases..."

"One, oncologist appointment and two, actually a case. Sorry."

"You told your brother, didn't you?"

Because Joan is three drinks in, she doesn't hold anything back from her eyeroll. Her siblings having no relationship with each other is not on her. "That's different."

"Because he's real."

"Because he lives two hundred miles away! I didn't have to see...that. That expression, in my face, all the time."

"You could've died and I would never have known you were sick."

Joan snorts. "I was never *dying*." There was that period between her biopsy and the results of her lumpectomy, when decades-old memories of various patients, poor souls fading in front of her eyes, resurfaced every hour. Lin didn't need to be there for that.

"Look." Joan kisses Lin noisily on the cheek. "I just got the best news of my life and I wanted MY SISTER here with to celebrate being Officially. Cancer. Free!"

A table of young men nearby let out a cheer. Lin smiles in spite of herself.

-

Joan wakes up naturally. 

She spends a few minutes watching him. Many people say they'll sleep anywhere, but Sherlock actually will. And he never shows a single sign of stiffness or back pain. She envies him that, even as she acknowledges that she'd still prefer a bed, even if there were no consequences to sleeping on the floor. 

"Is this just the first time I caught you?" Her voice is husky from sleep. 

He springs to his feet. "Oh!" He runs off, returning no more than six minutes later with breakfast.

After placing the tray on the bed, he stands at her side, stiff and silent like a brooding Lurch. "What, no speech?" she teases.

He takes in a shaky breath. "It has been quite some time since I lost the ability to imagine a life without you in it. Gratitude isn't sufficient enough to describe how it feels to know this is a concern I can put off for another day."

"Oh, Sherlock." 

"These past few weeks have been fraught, for you." She gives a start. This has taken an unexpected turn. "Full of pain and fear, the reopening of old wounds. You've conducted yourself so admirably. My respect for you, which had appeared to reach its zenith years ago, I find had untold heights yet to climb." He leans toward her, his hand cradling the back of her head while his lips press against her hairline. 

He disengages, turning his back and she makes a tentative grab for his hand. He freezes in place, not resisting. "I love you, too," she says thickly, shoving aside tears.

Joan doesn't remember having done anything remotely admirable. She's been tired and snappish, she forced everyone to cater to her, she stopped doing her fair share of the work. The one person she tried to help didn't need her. It's been weeks since she felt like she existed for any worthwhile reason. 

Maybe that's why it's good to see herself through his eyes, just this once. She squeezes his hand, then quickly lets go, taking pity on him. Plucking the cloth napkin from the tray and pressing it against her eyes, she laughs. "So this was your plan for my last day? Get my face all blotchy just in time to go in there and say goodbye to all those people?"

"What does it matter? You'll never see them again.

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

Hey who wants to hear the miserable story about how I had to deal with loneliness this year? Feel free to scroll on I just need to write it down to, I suppose close the chapter on the story? Read if your curious, or maybe also need guidance, or just want to learn some tips on how to help someone dealing with it. This will be poorly structured it’s just... getting it off my chest I guess.

People talk sometimes about university students often struggling with loneliness, and often going overlooked because they’re not seen as ‘vulnerable’ as other populations. I mean, look! They’re in a city! They go out every night and piss off the locals! They can’t be lonely!

It started back in 2018 (yup, that far back), when my friends decided that it would be better for my mental health if I didn’t live with them. No lie, that was the actual fucking reason. I was heartbroken; I’ve missed out on a lot of typical “growing up! Yay!” Type things because of my mental health, trauma and bullying and the fact that “living with friends” was gonna be added to the list was fucking heart breaking. But I dealt with it, because I had no where else to turn. No one else to move in with. I cried for like 2 hours solid after they so sweetly told me they didn’t want to live with me because I have *anxiety*. Not even one of the quote unquote “””scary””” mental illnesses (which would have been a MAJOR dick move), just plain old anxiety attacks and hiding from people to calm down. I proceeded to have break downs every Wednesday for 3 months while searching for somewhere to live, bc it was always a stabbing reminder that I was so unwanted.

(They planned to move in with 2 other people so it’s not even like they were only searching for a flat to fit *just* them)

I study 300 miles away from home, literally the exact opposite part of the country. Despite not having many friends growing up I was never lonely because I had a great family who would always chase it away. Maybe I was lonely a bit at school, but I could always come home and my parents chased it away. It was recurrent, but not constant.

I got a place for the new academic year. Studio flat, great location, tiny and over priced to Hell but I was in a safe area which was great because *no one was looking out for me anymore*. I didn’t have flat mates to check I was alive everyday, no one to chat to when I got home. If I got sick, I was completely on my own. My next door neighbour is lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she’s a working professional, and I’m a second year student. Everyone else in studio flats are mature students, masters, phD students or working people. And me. I have so little in common with these people it’s tough to start a conversation with them.

My birthday is early in the academic year, so we didn’t celebrate it until about a month after. Half of my friends didn’t even bother, no card, no presents. Okay, fine, I’m not materialistic, but acknowledgement would have been nice I suppose. This is the only time they came around my flat, and they are the cake I baked to celebrate.

But they inexplicably started to just stop interacting with me. There were 5 of us, they’d pair up in lectures and only talk between themselves between lectures and left me sat quietly trying to speak to someone, ANYONE, because hello? I haven’t got FLATMATES. I talk to NO ONE outside of this “friendship” group. They don’t seem to care much, they just keep telling me how wonderful it must be to live in a studio.

They invited me round to celebrate another friend’s birthday at their shared flat. He gets presents from everyone, including the two that left me out. Their flat looks lived in, there’s board games out while I don’t have room for any of them in mine. They’ve got bean bags everywhere it looks so damn nice. “But your kitchen is bigger than ours!” Eve tried to tell me (an absolute LIE), but they don’t roll out of bed and immediately land in the kitchen. They don’t have to chose between watching tv, eating or living the flat any time they want to dry clothes bc there’s no room. I want to cry throughout the visit, I storm off once were done. I don’t know why. I know now.

Loneliness feels like a weight on your chest. It’s a double edged sword where both edges only cut you. You desperately seek interaction but it also upsets you. I wanted to hang out at their flat because I hadn’t hung out with them in nearly a month at this point, but when I got there I realised they hung out together every. Single. Night. While I cried alone in my room. It made everything so much worse. And they laughed it off.

They stopped posting in the group chat, they talked to me even less. Never invited me out, but there’s no way I could prove *they* went out so it was pointless complaining about it. I was meant to go to a concert with one of them, I reminded her about tickets an entire month before, offered to buy hers. She cancelled 5 hours beforehand. I went alone.

It was a Toyah concert. I fought back sobs in the opening song “Good morning universe”, because it repeatedly asks “how are you today?”. I was awful. I finally had it figured out. I was lonely, isolated, and I didn’t know what to do.

Before anyone gets too sad, the story only continues for 2 weeks past this concert.

1st November, they joke about how Blake, friend number 4, practically lives at their flat, and I get angry. Why does HE get to live there? Blake has flatmates, Blake’s not alone! I should be practically living there because there’s NOTHING in my flat but silence. The internet is on the fritz and I’ve yet to figure out the tv, I don’t even have background noise except the kettle! I storm off, vow to never interact with them again.

I go out for drinks with my neighbour for her birthday. She buys me a pint of coke bc I don’t drink. I hate coke, but I drink it all and chat with her friends. It was a great night.

That weekend I bake pumpkin cake and bread for knitting society, and calm down. I overreacted a bit surely. One more chance, that’s all I’ll give them. The cake and bread doesn’t all get eaten at the society so I bring some for them on the Monday.

Tuesday night is bonfire night. I sit in my flat wishing I could go out and see them rather than just hear them, but I don’t know where to go. I have no one to go with.

Wednesday im sat in lectures beside them, and a friend not in the group but still a friend comes over to chat. One of them excitedly tells her about how they went to a display last night “look at these photos I got of (friend in group)!” I ask if they went out last night, the phone is quickly put away, they ignore me. I ask again. The friend outside of the group is confused and leaves before the lecture starts. I spend 3 hours with loneliness ripping out my lungs, because how could they? They could’ve dropped me a message to say they were going and I could meet up, but they didn’t even do that? Why?

After the lectures finished I corner one of them. The first of my friends at university. The first person on my course I befriended. “Did you go out last night?” “Yes” “without me?” Another runs up “it was last minute it wasn’t planned!” Laughs it off. So I rush off. I don’t say good bye. That was it.

I went home and cried. Told my parents what happened. Cried down the phone to them. “It’s time to cut ties with them”. I know it is. It’s still hard.

So yeah. Miserable story. But any sad story should have a happy ending, right?

Yes.

The next day I told someone what had happened. She immediately called it bullshit and invited me to join her friends. They’re really nice. I like them.

I left the old group chat. No explanation, just “I’m hanging out with X now. Laters” and I left. I wrote my frustrations and explanation in a shitty poem, called it shitty in the poem itself, but also said they didn’t deserve better. They didn’t deserve even that, so I didn’t send it. I think it was a very sexy decision of mine.

But most importantly, through the hardest points, most of my weekly socialisation every week came from the two societies im part of: my society (knitting) and the nerd society. 4 1/2 hours a week of socialising isn’t enough, surprisingly. But it got me through.

But more importantly are the people I met there. I don’t want to tell them what happened, I fear they’ll be upset that they didn’t help more, but they helped so damn much. So much more than could ever be expected from anyone. That final Wednesday, when I’d cried my heart out, 2 people texted me out of the blue and lifted my spirits so much I laughed that evening where I’d cried in the day. Stupid texts too. “Baby rabbits and kittens, cos you’re a vet right?” And “I only just got this message, I would have LOVED some pumpkin cake 🙁”. Poor lads probably weren’t expecting the wild conversations we had afterwards but friendships blossomed from it. Sorry new friend, hope you like the cheese scone recipe you definitely did NOT see coming that day.

The society meets on a Thursday, but it was to be a video watching thing more than a social thing. Loneliness was still tearing me up inside, I wanted to talk to someone damnit! But I went because I needed cheering up. I laughed so hard, I sang theme songs with others, and we all went to the pub afterwards. I’d never been before, I planned to leave at half 10 so I could shower and go to sleep in reasonable time for a 9am lab. I got chatting to the cake boy at 22:25. By the time we left the bar and he’d had his fill of chocolate rolls at my flat (I offered, he was hungry and Sainsbury’s was closed) and I was in bed, it was 00:40. Oops.

But I wasn’t lonely anymore.

Whats there to learn? I suppose don’t take advantage of your friends. If someone is living alone, check on them OFTEN. Make sure you don’t just pair up for conversations in lectures. Invite people round more.

And don’t under estimate the power of a text message. The lack of one ruined one friendship, one daft one about pumpkin cake built another.

(And I baked cookies for my new friends and we ate them in front of the old friends. Get rekt).

[lovemesomesurveys]

Is there anyone at your work that you want to just deck in the face? * I dont have a job, but there isnt anyone in general that I feel like punching <<< Last thing you drank? Water. Last thing that pissed you off! Health related things. Last thing that made you feel better *sigh* Why the “sigh”? Anyway, a trip to the beach would help. For the time I was there, at least. Something you did differently today that wasn’t so bad It’s only 1:37AM, I haven’t done much so far except for a few surveys. That’s not anything different.

Last plans that were ruined because of things you can’t control My mom and I wanted to visit my aunt a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t able to go because I was having a flare up. How old are you? 30. Someone’s YouTube that annoys the crap out of you I don’t watch any that annoy me. You are lucky because I’m blessed because I have my family, a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, clothes on my back, and food to eat. What kind of jeans are you favorite? Skinny jeans. Man, I haven’t worn jeans in like 2 years, though. I only wear leggings now. Mini skirts, slutty or stylish? They can be cute, but it’s not my style. I don’t feel comfortable wearing them. Do you like a partner who is clean cut or rugged? Clean cut, but I do like some scruff. Pale or tan, which would you rather be? I’d like to be tan. What if you were drastically what you’d rather be overnight? Cool. Habit with health concerns by society that u have Uhh. Do smartass sarcastic old folks piss you off? * Idk. I kind of enjoy the “smartass” personality bc its amusing as long as it isnt malicious. My old friend Denise was such a smartass and I loved her <<< Yeah, I get what you mean. It depends. What about little kids that want to be gangstas? Just stop. What do you think about Hipster? I don’t care. Scene? Is that still a trend? I feel like I don’t see it anymore, but maybe that’s because I’m old now. What do you think about “Juggalos” and “Juggalettes”? I don’t get the whole Insane Clown Posse thing. lol that’s funny. Something that you won’t even try No other drug besides weed, which I’ve done. Do u blog? You’re lookin’ at it. Tweet? Yeah. FB? I rarely post anything anymore, but I scroll the feed and like some stuff here. Myspace? Myspace has been dead for a long time, time to let go. What do you think about that G6 song? It’s old now, but still catchy. Is walking cats strange? ( like walking dogs ) That does seem weird. What about kids on leashes? What do you think about that? I mean, I can see how it would be helpful. In a super crowded place, it would be easy to lose grip of their little hand and it would get very tiring pretty quick if you had to carry them. Strollers can be a nuisance in really crowded places too, so for a toddler I can see the benefit of the leash. Only for that age group, though. We are all the same is bullshit is it not? Clearly we’re not all the same. Will the world end in 2012? That’s next year. That was 7 years ago and we’re still here. No one but God knows when the world will end. What lip balm do you use to keep your lips moist? EOS. I bought a vaseline lip balm recently, but I haven’t used it, yet. How many piercings have you had, BESIDES ears, no one cares. Well that’s all I got, sorry. New tats in your near future? I don’t have any tats. I’ve wanted 1 for several years, but I doubt I’ll ever get it done. How about piercings or re-piercings? No. Who would you like to hang out with? No one. Next new thing you are wanting to try! Nothing comes to mind right now. If your skinny you are underweight true or false? You can be thin but not underweight. I’m underweight, though. Being told to eat more is as offensive as being told to eat less. TF? I just hate it because it’s like clearly it’s an issue for me. It’s not that easy. If I could just “eat more”, I would. It’s not that simple. Even if I could eat more, I’d still have a hard time putting on weight. I have a fast metabolism, so I’ve always been thin, but not as thin as I am now. That happened due to health reasons and because of that I haven’t been able to gain any weight. It’s been a real struggle these past few years with health issues and eating/appetite issues on top of it. Would you wear short shorts, long socks and converse? No.  Do converse look/feel uncomfortable to you? I like them.  Your young but your life isn’t distracted by a cell phone. TF? I’m 30, I’m old.  What kind of deodorant do you use? Secret in powder fresh scent. Thing that bothers you. A lot of things. A dream of yours. I just want to be in a good place health wise. Can one create a masterpiece with a ballpoint pen? Yeah? Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side. He crossed over. He died. Do you say sorry a lot? Yes. Do you believe that you can feel energy from others from their thoughts? Not from their thoughts, I can’t get inside someone’s head, but I feel their energy through other things. Would you ever visit a psychic medium? No. If you would, what would you wanna know? Absolutely nothing. I don’t believe in that stuff. Do you get creeped out easily? You could say that. Ever scared the crap out of someone and laughed hysterically after? Yes. Do you type homerow? No. Are some days a waste of makeup? I very rarely wear makeup anymore. It’s been awhile. I don’t know if I have at all this year... Do you have acne? I’ll get a pimple or two now and then. I had it worse as a teenager and in my early 20s. Then it just cleared up, thankfully. My skin is still shitty, though. It’s so dry. Halloween costume. I don’t dress up anymore for Halloween. Diet soda yay or nay? I can drink Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper. I’d rather just drink the regular kind, though. Would you buy a Coach bag? No.

[chubsjiminiie]

Ignoring but Not Really

a/n: took a while babe sorry, I got really busy this last week. I hope this is good? let me knoww! i wrote little stories bc i thought theyd be cute lol

kim seokjin: 

“Y/n do you think I should wear my white shoes or do the grey ones look better?” He said stepping out of your shared walk in closet. 

You were scrolling past twitter checking out the trending page and laughing at all the funny memes. Since you weren’t looking his direction, the lack of vision caused you to miss whatever he asked you. At first he smiled thinking you were just way too out of it to realize he was talking. 

“Y/n babe. What do you think?” once again no response on your end.  

He began to question if he had done something wrong from the moment he stepped to change and now; but nothing. Out of frustration he went back into the closet to look for something funny to wear to make you laugh. Automatically his eyes land on your foax fur coat in the distance. Having such broad shoulders the jacket would not come up and stayed at his elbows. He figured you’d find it as funny as he did once he turned to the mirror. He practically jumps out of the closet wanting to get your reaction. Nothing came though. 

Slowly his pout came out and he walked to where you sat on your bed. He stood in front of you and finally you looked up at him with your beautiful smile and sparkly eyes. He looked a bit surprised about your facial expression and you furrowed your eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I thought you were ignoring me.  I’ve been calling you for at least 5 minutes”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, you know how I’m hard of hearing, if I’m looking your way there’s a slim chance I can actually hear you.” 

“Babe, I totally forgot! I was overhear wondering what I did wrong. I’m so forgetful, this happens way too often. You have to yell at me every time you’re going to be doing something else so I can make things easier for you.” 

He leans downs and sweetly presses his lips on your forehead. Jin always forgot but would try his best to not make you feel bad for not catching it in the first place. But now, he told you to keep your eyes on him because he needs your opinion on a very important subject, his shoes. 

min yoongi:

“Baby should we invite the guys for dinner tonight?” Yoongi spoke from a distance.

You were too busy watching your favorite movie and paying attention to what was happening to be able to catch whatever Yoongi had said. The movie came to an end and you made your way into the kitchen to put wash the dishes you had dirtied while eating snacks. 

“Y/n, so should I tell them they can come or no?” his voice was at a regular tone but he wasn’t close enough for you to catch what he had said. 

He huffs to himself thinking you must be mad at him or the boys since you were usually the one to respond very excitedly to the guys coming over. You walk past him and give a sweet smile but he just tilts his head to the side and lifts one eyebrow. He watches you sit on the recliner chair in your living room and begins to think to himself. He stares for a while until you feel his eyes on you and you turn to face his direction. 

“Is something wrong babe?” 

“Not to me. What’d I do? Or what did they do?” 

“Who’s they?”

“The guys.”

“Nothing.. speaking of them you should invite them over! It’ll be so fun to have dinner together!!!” 

He looks at you with a sort of confused look and lifts his eyebrow again, “I just asked you twice if I could invite them.” 

“No you didn’t silly!” You giggle walking up to him, “Oh wait. It happened again. Yikes.”

His face seemed to finally get what happened and he giggled back at you and pulled you into a warm hug. 

“OH! Right. I forgot it was hard to catch what I’m saying sometimes. Don’t worry about it babe, I’ll invite everyone right now.” 

He was always understanding. Forgetful. But would never make you feel bad for not realizing you couldn’t hear him clearly unless you can lip read or pay close attention.

jung hoseok:

Hobi was in the mood to show you a new choreography he came up with while on his free time. He couldn’t find his speaker, and just couldn’t remember where he left it. You had started to help him look for it so you could watch his new moves but it was no use because you couldn’t find it either. Finally in the last place he looked, the bathroom, there it stood on the counter. 

“I found it sweetheart!” Hobi said walking in the room you were in bent over looking through different pieces of furniture. 

“You can stop looking y/n,” but you carried on. 

At first he was a little taken back by no response but he tried once more; it still didn’t grab your attention. You weren’t the type to get mad over such a small thing so he was really taken back this time when you ignored him for the third time. 

A few seconds go by and he realized you probably missed what he said because your attention was else where. He comes next to you and lightly taps your shoulder, you stand up and face him, he brings up the speaker to his face and smiles. You giggle at his silliness and high five him. 

“Where’d you leave it? Was it in the bathroom again?”

“Ugh yes..” he said playfully sighing.

“You didn’t hear me earlier so I had to come up to you or else you’d still be searching.” 

“Oh,” you giggle, “That would’ve been a little funny.” 

He grabs your hand and leads you to a spot on your couch. He started to connect his phone to the speaker and winked at you. He was very quick to remember that you needed to read his lips so if this happened often he’d just walk up to you and either playfully pout or just continue the conversation as if it were nothing.

kim namjoon: 

You and Namjoon had spent almost the entire day at his studio as he wanted to write but because it was one of the only days you’d both be able to be together he asked you to come along. He had sat in his chair in front of his computer with a pen in his hand and the cap in his mouth, as his face scrunched up, struggling to find the correct lyrics. Finally it seemed something had clicked and he wrote down a couple lines to his verse. He felt so happy and accomplished but he wanted your input and praise. 

“Okay so, Y/N, listen to these fire ass lines.” he says as he spun in his chair. 

“Babe. Listen!” he says while you read other lyrics he had thrown out, “Hey quit ignoring me.” 

He crosses his arms against his chest and looks at you with a half serious straight face. He tries calling out your name repeatedly but you were too invested in his “messed” up writings to clearly hear anything. He turns to his notebook and lazily rips a piece of paper. He crumbles it into a ball and starts to aim it at you; he sticks his tongue out slightly and tilted his head to get perfect accuracy. In that moment you had finished reading the paper in your hands and start to look up at him but a flying white ball comes straight towards you. It lightly taps your cheek and falls down next to you on the mini couch in Namjoon’s studio. 

“Hey, what did I do?” 

“You ignored me. I was so excited to show you these new lyrics that I came up with but you were too invested in other things to hear.”

“Oh my. Didn’t realize, then I did deserve your paper ball on my cheek,” a small laugh escapes your lips, “Tell me the lyrics!” 

Namjoon never really was bothered by your moments of not hearing him, he took the opportunities to playfully mess with you for your attention. On the rare occasion he’d forget and get pouty but it was all sweet. There were moments he’d even jump into your lap like a little kid to regain your attention. It never failed to make you laugh. 

park jimin:

We all know how Jimin lives for his attention and praising, so on days he was a little low, he’d really cling himself onto you. This day in particular you were busy doing work on your computer for work/school and he just didn’t like how you weren’t focused on him. Having been turned away from him he had been calling your name for the past 20 minutes but you hadn’t a single peep because you were concentrating so hard. A couple times you heard a little noise and turn around to face him but he would just look at you and smile. 

On top of being so busy, today was a very off day for your hearing. It was one of those days you struggled more hearing much of anything without putting all your energy to pay close attention. You were close to finishing up on your work and you got a little more excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend. 

After finishing you made your way to him and fell lightly on top of him, hugging him tightly and cuddling into him. He seemed a bit stiff while everything played out, and his facial expression was a bit annoying and sad. 

You look up to see him and he has his lips out in a nice plump pout. 

“Now you want cuddles after ignoring my pleads for a full 20 minutes.” 

“I wasn’t ignoring you Jiminie!” he furrows his eyebrows, “I promise. I’ve just had a little more trouble today listening without looking.” 

“Ah why didn’t say so! I was sad here, feeling lonely, and unloved,” he exaggerates his sigh, “but you were just struggling.” 

“I’m here now to give you all the love you are asking for.”

“Good. Sorry I should remember more than you have trouble hearing me.” 

Jimin always told you never to apologize if he felt ignored but you were having trouble because he should realize that you can’t hear and should grab your attention. So he was always the one to apologize for not noticing earlier but you always reassured him it was all fine.

kim taehyung:

“... And that’s why I told Jungkook he shouldn’t buy a pet bunny while living with our hyungs.” 

Silence.

Did she fall asleep? he thought. He turned to face you on the couch but your eyes were wide as you held a book in front of you reading. He figured you didn’t enjoy his story and rather read a better one to keep you entertained. He got up off the couch and looked for the remote to the tv. Once located he sat at another spot and turned on his favorite channel, and raised the volume thinking it’ll annoy you enough to talk to him. 

You could hear the slight murmurs of the tv but they were sounds your ears and brain could not correlate to anything and so decided to check out what it was. Your eyes landed on spongebob dancing around and signing at the top of his lungs on the tv screen. Spongebob was Taehyung’s favorite cartoon to watch at night so he could have a good laugh before going to bed. 

Your eyes land on Taehyung and he has a calm expression on his face. 

“I turned the volume almost all the way up because I wanted to steal your attention, since you ignored me, but then as I saw you look up to the tv I realized it was probably because you couldn’t hear me.” 

“Yeah, what were you saying?” 

“I was telling you a story about Jungkook but it’s whatever. I can’t believe I always forget about you needing to rely on lip reading.” 

“It’s alright as long as you get it eventually.” 

His boxy smile appears and he makes a mental note to remind himself every single day. From then on he got better at remembering to ask you and speak to you if you were looking directly at him.

jeon jungkook: 

All day it seemed like you’d be all about him for twenty minutes straight but then for five minutes you’d ignore him and the cycle would repeat and so he’d get pouty and whiney until you looked at him and could listen again. 

“Okay whats up?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been distracted this entire time and I’m starting to get a little jealous. Whoever you’re texting, is clearly stealing you from me.” 

“Kookie. No,” you laugh, “It’s just if my eyes aren’t on you I can’t really make out what you’re saying, remember?” 

His once sad and frustrated face turned into a guilty look and his eyes looked down. His lips formed a small ‘O’ and his hands intertwined together on his lap. 

“Jungkook don’t feel bad. It happens and thats fine!” 

He looks up and sees your smile that never failed to make his appear, and he reached out to grab your hand. 

“I do this too often. But I promise I’ll try harder to keep it in mind and let you do your thing babygirl.”

From the moment you started dating he had always had an understanding you struggled with this little part. Many people would get frustrated but he made sure he wasn’t one of them and tried to remember and keep in mind you didn’t choose to ignore him. 

[hearts-upon-our-sleeves]

Undercover Madness - Spencer Reid

Title: Undercover Madness

Summary: In which Hotch enlists you to go undercover into one of the biggest drug rings in the US, which meant you had to leave behind the team and a special genius.  

Warnings: Drugs, Fighting (lots), Curse words, sexual themes, gangs, drug rings.

Word Count: 4000+

Terms: Y/N = Your name, Y/L/N = your last name.

Masterlist

A/N: THIS IS 100% BASED OFF OF SEASON 1 FINALE OF BROOKLYN NINE NINE, I TRIED TO ADD NEW THINGS AND MAKE IT MY OWN BUT I GOT THE IDEA FROM THEM. pls dont sue x. Also the first part the cast is Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, & Garcia. Elle and Gideon are gone and Prentiss comes a bit after you go undercover kk, also I made a lot of the agents and directors up bc i don't pay enough attention to know everyone cast in the show.  ALSO I CAN 100% DO A BACKSTORY AS TO WHY YOU’RE CALLED THE CALVARY IF Y’ALL WANT JUST ASK I’VE GOT IDEAS MY DUDES. This isn’t proof read its late okay. 

It wasn’t everyday that Hotch called you into his office before flying off for a case, yet here you were sat in one of the leather lined seats bouncing your leg up and down. It was obvious that you were nervous, you grew that way more and more as Hotch briefed the team for the newest case. You had no clue why you weren’t in with the rest of the team, but you listened to Hotch and sat in his office waiting on him.

You didn’t have to wait that long for Hotch to walk in and sit at his desk. Hotch flipped through a few files not speaking a word until he found one, to which he threw in front of you. You grabbed the file and looked inside curiously.

“This is the the mayor’s file, the case I tried to make when I thought he was laundering money, Why did you give me this.” You looked up at Hotch in a state of wonder. Looking into this case got you suspended the last time you tried to follow it.

“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room under any circumstance.” You looked around the room a small bit before nodding. “I need you to get fired, and I need you to use this to get fired.” He tapped the case file, as you looked at him  as if he was mental. You tried everything to read him but you couldn’t figure him out.

“Hotch this is insane, I like my job, I can’t just leave it.” You set the file back down and set your hands on your knees looking back up at Hotch.

“I know, I need to know if you trust me.” You let out a small laugh that made him raise a brow.

“Of course I trust you, but I don’t see why I need to get fired.”  You leaned back into the chair you were sat in and crossed your legs.

“For me to tell you why you need to be fired, you need to agree to it.” Hotch locked his fingers together and met your gaze, you had to take a minute to think about what endless possibilities Hotch could ask you to do, Reid could probably tell you the exact number. Reid. Oh crap what about that pretty boy genius, the genius that would walk you to work and make your coffee with too much sugar, but you never minded because he looked so happy doing it. You knew deep down Hotch came to you because you were the only person for the job. As much as saying yes would kill you, you knew that it needed to be done and if blindlessly following him would help in any way shape or form you’d do it.

“Okay, I’ll get fired, but I need you to do something okay?” He nodded looking to you for your favor. “Watch out for Reid would ya? He’s a sweet guy and I don’t know what I’d do if he got hurt.”

“You know I will, but Y/N, the mission I’m sending you on requires you to infiltrate one of the biggest drug rings in America.” There was no way he’s gonna say that you, a FBI agent is gonna get into a family of incredibly dangerous gangsters. That shit just ain’t gonna happen. “I need you to infiltrate the Romanov family, get to know them, learn their ways and most importantly we have found a bar frequented by one of their sons, he is around your age and I need you to get close to him, have them accept you as one of their own. This is incredibly dangerous and I’m hiding this mission away from everyone. Garcia is going to work with you on creating a means to communicate with us under the radar. I’m going to be honest, there’s a high chance that you will die, but if you can get in it’ll be monumentary. I need you, I need the Cavalry.” As much as you took in you couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname he used, you hadn’t heard it in a long time but then again it was why people had been scared of you.

“What’s the story again? People keep adding onto it.” He smiled a bit showing the smallest ounce of compassion on a gloomy afternoon. You shook your head letting a breath escape you. “So are you in on everything or not?”

“I’m in.”

-

Saying goodbye as the team left to go to their case was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but you did it and over that week they were gone, you investigated the case harder than ever before and pissed off the director of the BAU. Which lead to a two-day suspension, and at your hearing you raised so much hell you were fired on the spot. You left with a hug from Garcia and a vague memory of your team- no your family.

That’s how it started, you got fired and never looked back as you drove along the highway singing Billy Joel with a suitcase in the back. It was getting late and you could use a drink and a nice motel, so you stopped at a bar. As you sat down you already felt eyes burning into your chest but you couldn’t care, you ordered and scrolled through your phone looking and feeling bored.

“What’s a pretty face like yours doing looking so sad? I’m Mickey Romanov nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I just got fired from the FBI.”

-

The past few months were crazy you had successfully gotten into the family, you had no clue but they all loved you. You thought it was because you beat out Nona in a shots contest, apparently no one could do that. You had incredible information and could easily arrest them all but you knew they’d all run and rebuild their empire, you needed an event where they would all be at and couldn’t leave. You needed a marriage, you’d dated Mickey for a while and were extremely happy when he believed that you wanted to wait till marriage for sex. But all round Mickey was sweet to you but cruel to the outside world and you knew that it was for the pure fact of you could kill him without even trying if he treated you wrong.  

You and Garcia spoke once a week through the mail, she figured out a way to send you new recipes that were actually messages, Mickey thought you were getting weekly new recipes but you were really just relaying back and forth with Garcia. You and Mickey lived together and as he would believe happily, yet still inside were raging feelings for Boy Wonder and Garcia knew it which is why she always included a recipe about Reid and the things he did that week. You wrote her back a recipe telling her all of the intel you got this week including your plan to get the family together by a marriage.

-

“Garcia, how’s she doing?” Hotch walked into Garcia’s lair after being informed of a new letter.

“She’s holding up feeling a bit homesick but I would too after eight months of faking who you are.” Garcia typed away on her computers pulling up the recipe. “They smuggled in more of the bad stuff through the ports, there's a lack of security in one spot and so the claimed it as their own. Do we do something about it?”

“No we handle it all after we catch them all, we fix it they will think someone’s giving out their information and I can’t risk Y/N to close off one port.” Hotch thanked Garcia and continued to his office.

-

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” You could have rolled your eyes there but you faked tears and happiness, yet a small hint of relief for it would be over soon.

“Yes, yes I will, I can’t wait to be Mrs.Y/N Romanov!” You squealed trying to feel a single ounce of happiness yet nothing.

-

“Hotch!” Garcia called running into his office in a hurry, she slammed the door finally catching his attention. “Y/N is gonna get married! Hotch this is her plan during the vows when everyone is there and all attention is on the bride and groom is when we hit. She’s gonna get to come home, after a year and a half we can have our girl back!” Garcia practically threw the wedding invite at Hotch.

“We’ve got three weeks, I’ll fill in the director.” Hotch read over the copy of the invite, thinking about the plan.

“But the director of the BAU will never let us go in he hates Y/N!” Garcia exclaimed confused and looking for an answer.

“That's why I’m going to the Director of the FBi. Also Garcia, Y/N has kept up this act for a year, that does a lot to someone.” Hotch sighed and looked down at the photo of Y/N and her fake fiance.

“What are you saying sir?” Garcia looked up with beady eyes.

“Let’s just hope Y/N can come out of this as herself again. I’ll inform the team soon, please keep this quiet.” Garcia shook her head and left Hotch to himself, trying to think positively that Y/N would come back herself.

-

“Team, meet me in the conference room in 5.” Hotch shouted over the team as they wondered why JJ cancelled the new case, in all honestly JJ didn’t know either.

“Anyone know why Hotch called us in here?” Morgan asked around the room of confused agents. Prentiss shrugged as JJ shook her head. Reid mumbled a ‘no clue’ as Garcia bounced into the room. “Hey Baby girl what’s got you so happy today?”

“It’s a secret but you’ll all see soon!” Garcia took her sat and positive energy illuminated the room as everyone looked confused. They were all trying to profile the situation, but were interrupted when Hotch came into the room, Rossi trailing behind him with a smirk on his face.  Morgan furrowed his brows trying to figure out what was happening. But it wouldn’t take him long since Hotch wrote on the board a name most of them were all too familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N. Reading your name again made Spencers heart stop dead in its tracks, he’d spent so long trying to forget that you left without a single goodbye to any of them. Reid was angry, he wanted to be angry at you but he was angry at himself for falling for someone who would leave without a single word. He wanted so badly to understand everything but the puzzle was missing a piece until Hotch finally turned to them and pointed at the board.

“I’ve got some explaining to do about a past agent, a past friend. Many of you may be angry that she left and none of you have known why, and it was my fault. I made Y/N get fired, then go into the Romanov family.” At that moment Morgan realized Spencer’s jaw had clenched and his fist tightened around the uncomfortable desk chair he was sat in. “Over the past year and a half she has infiltrated them, gained their trust, and even succeeded in joining the family, or should I say she will be joining the family. In three weeks she will be getting married to one of the sons, we have three weeks until the wedding to put together a plan of invasion. There has been talk of them storing all of the product at one massive facility the day of the wedding, but we won't know until we speak to Y/N again, she’s been sending Garcia messages in the form of recipes, she’s gone under the radar and it is the perfect way to speak to her. I want you all to find everywhere they are importing the drugs and keep tabs, we are going to bring teams in on the day of the wedding we attack. All of the files are being brought to you, you’re all dismissed.” With that Hotch took his leave and Spence did everything he could to not storm after him and curse his name. He loved you more than anything in the world, where you disappeared it took a toll on him that no one could fix, hell even to this day you were there burning in the back of his mind.

“Garcia, you knew about this?” Spencer was past being angry but now he just felt betrayed by one of his friends. Spence stormed out of the room, he couldn’t handle everything that was just laid on him.

“Spencer.” Garcia called after the boy wonder, turning to Morgan silently asking him to talk to the damaged boy.

-

“Wow.” You choked looking at yourself in the mirror, today was the day you tried your gown on and you looked absolutely stunning. Of course it was a fake wedding but you could at least imagine if it was real, with a different groom of course, maybe one that was smart and sweet and cute and now you were droning on and on, about the love of your life, Spencer Reid.

-

“Hey, hey, hey, the hell’s wrong with you?” Morgan chased after Spencer, stopping him in the hallway. Morgan placed his hands on his on Spencers shoulders, looking him in his already red eyes. Spencer push Morgan off and tried to continue until Morgan grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. “I get it you love her and you’re incredibly angry but don’t it out on other people because you feel like you let her leave, you know in that smart head of yours you couldn’t stop her from doing anything.”

-

“So who exactly was Y/N Y/L/N?” Prentiss asked looking through the boxes of intel. JJ laughed a bit making Prentiss raise a brow in question.

“Ever heard of the calvary?” Garcia piped up her fingers clicking away on her laptop, looking up for a second to see Prentiss putting it together.

“You mean Hotch was able to get the cavalry on his team? Dang I’ve heard all of the stories, she’s just plain terrifying but she looks so nice.” Prentiss looked at an old picture of you and Reid in stupid party hats and a feather boa draped around your neck that clung to Spencer’s shoulder. Smiles illuminated both of your drunken faces and you could sense the love the two of you had for each other in the picture. JJ looked at the picture and smiled too she knew how much you two cared for each other and she was rooting for you two to get together.

“She’s the nicest person I know, don’t believe the stupid stories people make up, yeah she can kick serious butt but it’s only to protect people. We’re lucky to have her, and besides as much as Spence looks angry and hurt, he’s excited to get his girl back.”

“His girl huh?” Prentiss smirked a bit, never knowing Spence could have actual human emotions.

“Totally! They are in love with each other!” Garcia piped up ready to talk about the letters about Reid, that she’d promise she wouldn’t say anything about, so Garcia didn’t say any more but tease them a bit.

-

Today was the day. Today you were going to get married or you could finally be free from this crazy family and kick some bad guy ass, you hoped it was the ladder.  You slipped the bottom part of your dress on over some black leather leggings, thankfully your corset was the top part but it was breathable so you could just take the skirt off to fight. On top of the leggings you had two gun holsters just incase things got bad, you prefered fighting over shooting but this would be one weird and angry day.

Mickey’s father escorted you down the aisle. You knew that Hotch was watching, you could see the small camera set in the bouquet, it was hard to see to the normal eye but you could catch it. Every step you took you felt enlightened for it would be over so soon but you knew there had to be a war before there was silence. You met Mickey’s love sick gaze and gave him the same look, it sickened you but you swallowed it down and took the last step as his father gave you away.

-

You looked absolutely beautiful and it made Spencer sick, he hadn’t looked at a picture of you in so long, so seeing you at your wedding destroyed him, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact it was fake. But he was there with every single member of every security team, they all split up around the building you were getting married, and Spence was gonna be there when they release the gas that knocks everyone out, he was gonna be there to make sure you were okay. Hotch told him you could hold your breath but Spence prepared for the worse, he didn’t know why he acted this way but his mind just couldn’t focus around you, he loved you.

-

“I  have never loved anyone the way I love you, Mickey.” You lied your ass off. “Standing here with you by my side makes me realise I missed so much the first part of my life, and I’m ready to start it off right with you.” You looked into his eyes with stars in yours. “It’ so hard to describe how much I love you, it’s like trying Baba’s meatballs for the first time over and over again.” Heartfelt laughter erupted as you gazed into each other. You smiled, for the fact part one was over.

-

“That’s the word, release the gas.” Hotch ordered, it was rare for him to be incharge on so many different units and ranks, but this was his case, the director of the FBI made that clear.

-

It took 15 seconds for people the people in the back to pass out cold, and another 5 for everyone else. You held your breath and closed your air ways off. There was a gas mask stashed under the food cart which you grabbed and threw it on fast, finally breathing in and actually feeling how light headed you were. You took a few moments to compose yourself, there were guards you had to take out on the roof, before teams swarmed this place like a beehive. As you walked down the corridor to the roof staircase you slipped your skirt off leaving your pants, as it was easier to fight in pants than a 15 pound skirt.

As you reached the opening you could hear the guards, Hotch told you that he placed an earpiece under on of the shelfs in the room. It didn’t take too long for you to find it, turn it on and place it in your ear. “5 guards on the roof, taken them out then we go in, you still got it?” Hotch’s voice boomed through the ear piece.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You smirked, you were back in business, you were you again. You threw the door open, greeted with 5 very big men. One charged out at you and you jumped over him grabbing his head with your feel and kicking him onto his back. Two snuck behind up so you elbowed both of them in the head using an ‘x’ motion. Another charged in front of you so you did a front aerial with a spin and used him as a landing target. Those four had been knocked out but you still had one more and he charged at you throwing punches, you did the only logical thing you could think of at that time and threw him off of the building, which startled a lot of agents when they saw a girl throw a huge man off a building, eh you shrugged you’d deal with it later. You walked back to the door and used one of the guys as a stepping stone. When you climbed down the ladder you were met with a face you’d dreamt to see for the past year and a half. Spencer. You two looked at each other not knowing what to do only just staring and smiling until you just ran into his arm and hugged him, stuffing your face in his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He said into your hair, you could’ve cried right then and there but you just smiled to yourself and felt at home in his arms. But all good things must come to an end, you two still had a case and Spence knew that so he pulled away first, he never liked touching people or having them touch him but damn were you his only exception. Spencer escorted you out to Hotch and you gave him all of the information he needed to send teams out.

It was over, the year long mission you had, everything came to an end today, and go damn were you happy to see everyone.

-

By the time everyone was in custody and all of the drugs and other illegal things were found it was almost midnight and that was when they let you go home as long as you came back in the morning to give your statements and everything.  Spencer walked you home and you let him stay over, since it was so late and you honestly didn’t wanna watch him go. So that’s how you found yourself on your couch cuddled with Spencer as content as possible.

“Did you ever think about us while you were away?” Spencer broke the silence, looking down at you cuddled into him, you sat up and looked in the eye.

“Of course I did Spence, every single minute of every single day, I missed you so much and I honestly had to fake every single emotion I had because I was so empty without you, I didn’t want to leave you I really didn’t but I had to. Honestly all I wanted to do was say goodbye, but you were on a case and it was such short notice and all I wanted to do was just,” You paused. “I just wanted to kiss you and listen I just god every single time I think about yo-” Spencer cut you off he couldn’t listen after the first statement. He slammed his lips into yours and you kissed him back as if the world was ending, you two fit together like the world’s most perfect puzzle and every single second of that kiss was explosive.

“I’m so sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.” Spencer looked into your eyes as you both broke apart. You just smiled and let out a small breathy laugh.

“I think I liked the kiss hello, better than the kiss goodbye.”

[strapcats]

Thicker Than Water (Part 11)

↬ Genre: Gang au, angst, drama, eventual fluff

↬ Pairing: Jeongin x Chan

↬ Word Count: 3,846

↬ Description: Dépaysement- (n.) When someone is taken out of their own familiar world and pushed into a new one.

–

Yang Jeongin is a young Busan runaway with a sharp tongue.

Bang Chan is the easily-offended leader of a crime syndicate.

Read on Wattpad // Read on Archive

Part(s) One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

!!!DISCLAIMER AND WARNING!!!

I am very against underage smut, especially with skz becuase they're my ults and I hate the idea of sexualizing minors. With this in mind, this chapter includes some stuff that I'll classify as "heated". I'll put a warning before where it is, so you can skip it if you want.

---

“I know I sound like an idiot but that’s beside the point.” Felix spoke angrily, running his hands through his soft white hair again in anxious feeling. “I think I really like him, Changbin. Honestly. And all he ever does is run in circles with BC. I fed him when he first came here! I made sure he didn’t freeze on the solid ground since that asshat didn’t give him a blanket!” Felix was near shouting now, he was so frustrated.

“Felix, I get it, and it’s not stupid. Honestly you just have to get over him. I can’t give you much more advice than that, because that appears to be the only way you’re going to get out in one piece.” Changbin spoke calmly, his voice unwavering and full of compassion. The slightly older male was trying to comfort his friend, though he was just a little out of reach. Felix sniffled in defeat.

“Thank you hyung… I’ll do my best.” The white haired male spoke calmly again and thanked his undercut friend. Changbin had recently had it redone, and it looked so sharp. To Felix, the style really suited him, it made him look handsome. The pair of boys had been brought into Clan 09 around the same time, so they became fast friends. Felix sought out gang life, and Chan was his easy in. The freckled boy needed to support his family, and taking people out was an easy way to make big bank. 75% of each of his paychecks got automatically wired to his family’s bank account, they thought he was a freelance artist that happened to be hitting the right deals. Changbin was yanked into the crime syndicate web after he got into ring fights. He ended up losing against Chan and the penalty was three months of work. Of course he accepted, he was a good sport. After the three months however, he had grown to love the lifestyle, and he had found that Chan was a fantastic person to have on your side. So he stayed.

A few rooms away, Minho, Jisung, and Seungmin were chatting over a high-stakes game of M&M poker. Minho was winning. The eldest of the three had joined the gang life at 17 out of sheer rebellion. Clan 09 hardly existed at the time, and Minho was one of the founding members. Jisung joined up purely for the thrill, because nothing in the world felt better to him than sprinting through the dim-lit Seoul streets from a squad of police cars with an AK-47 strapped to your back. Seungmin was scouted by BC, he was the brightest teen hacker in Korea. He had taken up computer science and technology studies in high school, thinking that the government would notice his potential and he could make his family proud. They never saw him, not even when he hacked their security systems for the hell of it. So he started looking elsewhere, in deeper, darker places. The boy-wonder had caught the eye of a number of less-than-legal businesses, but Chan was able to coax him in with good money and a fantastic cover story. Seungmin’s family thought he was a government iT agent now.

Kim Woojin was rebandaging a cut on Hyunjin’s arm in the younger’s office, while he counted money. The black-haired boy ran into the dangerous gang lifestyle headfirst, as his sister got caught up in a hostage situation, or so he thought. The boy was fooled by a rival gang to work for them, but Chan snatched him up before he started working for someone else. The young boy meant to leave, he really did, but once his first paycheck rolled in, he never wanted to leave. Designer brand after designer brand, he got more and more comfortable in his role as treasurer. Woojin on the other hand, was born into his syndicate role. His father was one of the first mafia bosses in Seoul, so when Woojin was born, it became his birthright. After witnessing his father’s murder by his right-hand man, however, he decided to stray from his original path and let his father’s old mafia die out. Kim Woojin was infamous in the syndicate web, everyone wanted a piece of him and his bloodline, regardless of his loyalties. Chan though, had other plans, and made Clan 09 with his best friend as soon as he knew that he was free from his father’s clutches. They were the seed that sprouted into the intricate web of illegal activity that Seoul seemed to thrive on.

Jeongin sat on his bed in his room, surfing the internet and browsing social media. All the higher-ups of the gang had been doing nothing but planning since their shootout with Purity Ring, and Jeongin was not in that circle. He was unaware of any plans or ideas in the making, but “mid-late April” was drawing ever nearer by the day. He trusted his teammates, so he just laid low, they would figure something out.

“Knock knock.” A voice at the door pulled Jeongin out of his thoughts, so he looked up to find a very cute looking Felix standing in his doorway. The younger boy waved him in and scooted over on the bed a little to make room for his friend. The white-haired male took his silent offer and sat next to him on the plush bed, leaning back against the headboard and picking up a pillow to put in his lap and hug. Jeongin chuckled at the boy’s actions.

“You look really cute today, Felix. And your socks are very nice.” The curly-haired young boy spoke clearly with a slight giggle in his throat, pointing out Felix’s appearance. He wore a light pink beanie, white melange ribbed joggers, and a black, longsleeved thermal tee that clung to his lean body. He had on fuzzy socks that matched the color of his hat and had little ears and a face embroidered on each one to look like bunnies. Jeongin thought they looked cozy.

“Ah ~ Thank you Jeonginnie. You’re not too bad yourself.” Felix blushed as he spoke, unable to contain his smile. Jeongin reciprocated the loving grin and nodded in thanks. The younger boy didn’t feel like he was wearing anything special, just a pink and white floral silk sleep shirt, and a pair of white fleece shorts with fuzzy socks similar to Felix’s but without the embroidery.

“Did you have a reason to come compliment me and steal my pillows or did you just wanna hang out?” Jeongin asked playfully, nudging Felix with his elbow as he went back to scrolling. His friend’s face dropped quickly and he began to subconsciously fiddle with his fingers. His eyes dropped to the soft sheets on the younger boy’s bed. Jeongin became concerned. “Hyung? What’s up?” His voice was laced with worry for his best friend, he thought something was drastically wrong. Felix sighed.

“Don’t worry Jeongin it’s nothing bad, I’m just… I’m just scared.” Felix’s voice was soft, and Jeongin leaned in to hear it, only making the elder’s nerves worse. He took a deep breath. “I know it won’t work out for a multitude of reasons but it’s been eating away at me and I really want to tell you that I kind of like you. And I mean, like-like you. I guess I’m confessing right now.” Jeongin’s eyes widened, but before he could think of a response, Felix kept talking in his quiet, tense voice.

“I just, actually feel alive when I’m near you. Ever since I joined 09 I’ve just been living day to day waiting on my paychecks and only having a little bit of fun with Jisung or Changbin here and there. Chan is a great older brother figure but ever since you came along it’s almost like you’ve brought this warmth and kindness with you that makes me not dread waking up every morning. Being around you when you’re happy is intoxicating and contagious, and it’s the best feeling in the world. God, and not to mention the fact that you’re physically a prince. Your eyes are so changeable and deep and your dimples add so much to your already beautiful smile. You have perfect proportions and I know this is probably too far but your lips look painfully kissable.” Felix rambled on and on, eventually getting louder and more confident in his words, like he was getting lost in the idea of Jeongin even when the boy was sitting right in front of him.

“And when you talk about BC and the way he treats you, it makes my blood boil. He has no idea the damage he’s causing or what a precious gift he’s rejecting. You want to please him and be his friend and make him proud so badly and he just spits in your face and calls you names. You deserve better, Jeongin! He doesn’t respect you like you should, he doesn’t understand how lucky he is that he’s receiving your affections, even after all the bullshit he’s done.” Felix was nearly yelling now, and his eyes were glassy with intense emotion. He felt so strongly and he had never said all of his feelings out loud before, so everything just came tumbling out without a filter. He barely noticed that Jeongin was withered backwards away from Felix. He looked like a wilting flower, so beautiful but so distressed that it was eating away at his form. The older boy finally came out of his trance-like state and noticed the now shaking boy across from him. His eyes were cast downward and he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He winced at himself and then reached out a hand to try and comfort his younger friend, only to be met by Jeongin flinching away violently. That one stung.

“J-Jeongin…? I’m sorr-” Felix tried to start, but the younger cut him off.

“D-don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t deserve. My feelings are my own and you have no right to dictate them. A-and you come here, confessing your emotions, and what do you think is going to come out of it? A relationship? I’m barely 17, and you don’t know the first thing about why I’m even here.” Jeongin spoke his words quietly, almost afraid of them. They cut through Felix like a knife, but he knew the younger was right. “I’m flattered, and I like you as a friend, as my best friend, but you have no power over who receives my affection and who doesn’t.” The black haired boy finished up his thoughts as he stood up and walked to the door. He stared at the floor and Felix saw crystalline drops falling from the young boys face. He pointed out the door.

“Go.”

And Felix did, without a word of protest, without any movement but getting up and walking out of the cozy room. Jeongin closed the door behind him and fell face first onto his bed again. He thought he would start bawling, but no more tears came than the ones already softly streaming down his supple skin. He felt hopeless and like his body was made of lead. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to because of the weight of his emotions crushing his back and shoulders. His best friend had a crush on him, and now their relationship was ruined. Jeongin was alone again.

The young boy only had one idea in his head, and he knew it was a stupid one. He decided against his better judgement and stood up from his comfy bed and walked to the mirror. He checked his appearance momentarily to make sure he didn’t look like he’d just been crying, before walking out of his room and down the dimly lit hall to the last door at the very end. Before he could even knock on it though, Woojin opened the door to BC’s room from inside, surprising both of them. The older male only had on silk pajama pants and basic socks, no shirt. Jeongin had seen almost every member without their shirts, save Woojin and Chan. Well, now just Chan.

The older male didn’t say a word as he stepped out of the room that definitely was not his, and walked around Jeongin, breaking eye contact only when he finally had to. The honey colored boy didn’t close the door, so he took that as an invitation in. Though he had been in it before, Chan’s room never ceased to surprise him.

It was bigger than all the other rooms, and rightfully so. He had a king-sized bed that was a bit raised off the ground on a solid black platform. He had a dresser across from his bed and an indented closet in the wall. On the dresser a couple glass bubbles sat with little air plants in them. There was a black and white geometric rug on the floor and a few miscellaneous things like clothes and gun harnesses strewn about. It had a pyramidal skylight that had clearly been redone, as it had clean, slightly fogged glass panes instead of the dingy, rusting ones that were present in the rest of the warehouse. There were small succulents hanging on little gold chains from the corners of the light, as that was the only place they could get direct sunlight. Jeongin smiled a little bit at the thought of his leader having plants. BC had simple black sheets with nearly invisible wide navy blue stripes on it. He had a few pillows, and no plushies. The older man’s voice took him out of his thoughts.

“What do you need, Fox?” BC spoke clearly, his eyes cutting right through Jeongin’s weak facade. There was no emotion in his voice, no resentment or concern or irritation; it was just flat. Jeongin gulped.

“Yeah… I just kinda wanted to talk to you sir… I don’t feel so good.” Jeongin fiddled with his pants a little bit and cast his eyes to the floor. Now it was the leader’s turn to gulp. Sir.

“Jeongin, you’ve never called me sir, what’s going on?” Chan closed his laptop that he was fake-working on and turned his full attention to the young boy in his doorway. His voice was still emotionless, it reminded Jeongin of when he first met the older.

“Oh, yeah… sorry. It’s just that Felix, well, he confessed to me.” Jeongin spoke ever quieter, only casting his eyes upward when he apologized. Distress and shame were evident in his tone and caused Chan a small bit of unidentifiable worry. He heard Chan sigh in apparent irritation and hit the top of his laptop in frustration. Jeongin looked up at the noise to be met with Chan’s stony glare. Jeongin felt his heartrate pick up speed for a couple of reasons.

“Jeongin, come here.” The leader spoke, disregarding his rare sign of emotion that he displayed just a moment ago and patted the bed close to his thigh as a motion for where Jeongin should sit. The young boy followed his directions obediently, only breaking eye contact to make sure he didn’t step on anything important on the floor. He sat lightly and scooted over to where Chan has pointed out, the pair’s thighs barely touching as he settled.

“I have to ask the obvious, do you like him back? Did you accept his feelings?” The leader spoke, showing a little bit of boredom by the questions he of course had to ask. Unsurprisingly, Jeongin shook his head disdainfully. Chan nodded back, not needing any more explanation.

“In that case, why did you come to me? Shouldn’t you have resolved it with Felix?” The black-haired boy said with a twinge of annoyance in his voice, making Jeongin crumble inside. The younger had no idea why he came to Chan, his mind just told him to. So he shrugged noncommittally. Chan rolled his eyes and scooted just a tiny bit closer to his youngest member. “Jeongin. Tell me why you’re here. I can’t do anything for you otherwise.” Chan spoke with a hint of condescension lacing his words and so Jeongin took a breath.

“Because I felt like I needed to tell you. You were the only person I wanted to tell, hyung. I don’t know why but I did and now I’m here looking weak and vulnerable again and making your life harder with problems that aren’t yours.” Jeongin’s speech picked up speed quickly, the stress and confusion eating away at him at a rapid pace. He just needed reassurance and comfort, neither of which Chan seemed like he would be doling out anytime soon. The pair sat in silence for quite a while before Jeongin felt awkward, causing him to look down at the striped duvet and pick at a loose thread. He felt the need to get up and leave, but right before he started to move he felt Chan’s hand on his own. He looked up slowly, a slightly stunned expression on his face. His eyes met his leader’s and he gulped, heat rising in the back of his throat. The older male turned his hands over in his palms and just comforted the younger through physical touch. After a couple of silent minutes Chan took a breath.

“I know that everything is confusing right now. And I also know that I have been anything but a good leader to you. I'm sorry, Jeongin.” The older male spoke calmly and cooly, and for once showed emotion in his voice towards the younger boy. Jeongin looked down again and nodded. Chan shook his head and reached out to touch the black haired boy's face. He used two fingers to lift the boy's head to look at him again, startling him and unknowingly cause a vicious blush to grow on his face. Jeongin gulped and looked at Chan’s lips momentarily without really meaning to. Some meaning flashed between them, and before he realized, Chan was leaning in ever so slightly, then Jeongin, and then their lips met.

!!!THIS IS THE WARNING!!!

It wasn't fireworks, it was more; it was like pyrotechnics at a stadium concert. Jeongin’s soft lips tasted like bubblegum and intoxicated the leader, only sending him reeling. Chan's hand cradled Jeongin’s face, pulling him closer to him, the younger’s body pressing against his own. Their lips were locked in a long-awaited embrace, and even when he realized he needed air, Chan refused to let go. They felt like they fit together, long they’d been searching for something and the moment their lips touched they found it. Jeongin was the first to pull away, much to BC’s distress. The younger was now basically on Chan’s lap, his wrists draped over his hyung’s shoulders and neck in a very feminine way. Chan’s hands had moved from his members face to his hips, subconsciously squeezing them to draw him closer. The smaller boy let his forehead rest on Chan’s for a moment, catching his breath and biting his lip a little bit in awkward anticipation. BC was just soaking up the view.

“Hyung, how long have you wanted to do that?” Jeongin asked abashedly, averting his gaze from Chan once again. Chan chuckled and squeezed the boy’s hips again, making him squirm a little in unexpected pleasure.

“I didn’t really know how badly I wanted it, wanted you, until you were leaning in, fox.” The leader’s words sent chills down Jeongin’s spine and the speaker blushed slightly at himself. The pair sat in relative silence for a few minutes, letting their actions settle into the air. Chan was happy, but thoroughly scared as to what this meant for the future of the Clan. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Jeongin started to move, Chan thought to leave. Instead, the younger boy simply fixed their position so he was straddling his leader’s lap. Chan felt heat rise to his cheeks for the first time in front of someone else and when he met Jeongin’s eyes with his own there was a devilish fire within them that made the leader gulp.

“J-Jeongin… What are you-” Chan tried to speak but was cut off abruptly by Jeongin’s lips on the corner of his own, clearly trying to tease him. The black haired boy quickly realized what the boy on his lap was trying to do so he just sat still, not reacting to the tempting things the younger decided to do with his lips. He kissed the corner of his lips, then trailed his kisses to the older male’s neck and ear, giving Chan goosebumps from the younger’s bated breath.

“Come on hyung… why don’t you play along?” Jeongin’s mischievous side was back out in full force and it lit a fire inside Chan just like how it had when they first met. He groaned in a displeased manner before moving the younger away from his tattooed neck and placed his attention back on his lips. Jeongin smiled in an accomplished manner into Chan’s mouth, running his hands through the elder’s hair and settling his hands on his cheeks. Chan’s rested on his partner’s hips again, and when their lips began to melt into each other, the elder pulled Jeongin roughly closer to him by his hips, earning a surprised noise from the younger boy, delighting Chan. The older boy licked Jeongin’s bottom lip, and the smaller eagerly accepted his invitation. They continued, Jeongin’s breath progressively getting hotter and came out in shorter pants, Chan becoming greedier by the second. Eventually Jeongin found the willpower to push his partner away, because he knew at this point Chan never would. The boy in question looked up at Jeongin with a confused glance before trying to go back in for his swollen pink lips, but the smaller boy just pulled farther away.

“B-BC, we have to stop… I’m still a minor and we have an attack on the horizon…” Jeongin stuttered out his words between sharp intakes of breath. He tried to keep his eyes away from Chan’s face, he knew that just one look from the leader’s lust-filled eyes would send any impulse control to the wind and he couldn’t go that far, he was still too young. He felt Chan loosen his death grip on Jeongin’s thighs, where his hands seemed to have travelled during their heated moment. The boy scooted away a bit, making sure to put safe distance between them now. Chan nodded at the actions, understanding and agreeing that it was probably the best course of action. The pair sat in silence before Chan flopped down backwards on his plush bed, surprising Jeongin a little bit. The smaller boy looked at him skeptically before BC rose a hand and beckoned him to come, Jeongin obediently obliged and crawled over to his leaders side, lying next to him happily. A strong arm snaked around his waist and the pair eventually drifted off to sleep, a million unspoken words dangling in the air between them.

[deliverydefresas]

masters of the scene

it’s been months, i know and im very much the sorriest!  this is the penultimate part y’all, so be prepared to either love or hate me more than you already do, lmao (it is shorter than what i was working on, but the next - and last obvs- will be longer i promise)

thank you for being patient with me, i appreciate it a lot! ((not proofread ok)) 

ALSO: today’s article is in the middle of the part bc,,, a little surprise 

in case you’ve missed any part:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 + 6.5 | 7

AU: Matteo Balsano is a famous singer who has been crushing on this one girl he saw every day behind a window many years ago, back when he first started recording his debut album and inspired his first big hit, Princesa. Luna Valente, professional Olympic skater turned actress is at a local (and very popular) talk show to promote her breakout movie. This is where it all starts.

“Luna, c’mon, you can’t keep avoiding everyone.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone, Nina.” She replied from her side of the door, scrolling through her e-mails on her laptop, looking for one that was due to arrive that day. As soon as she recognized Tamara’s username, she opened it, sighing as she read her message. ‘It’s done.’

“You aren’t not avoiding anyone either, Luna.”

“A double negation Nina, really, you?”

“It’s been days, L. You can’t possibly keep on sulking, it isn’t healthy. Please.” Luna groaned loudly, tossing her covers to the side as she stood up to open her door. Seconds after, she was engulfed in Nina’s arms.

“You act like you haven’t seen me, Nina. I was out of the room for breakfast this morning.” Her words were mumbled on Nina’s shoulder, who hadn’t let her go yet.

“Well, I haven’t. This… sulky person isn’t you, Luna. You don’t run from your problems, and you don’t shut me out when they appear.” She was almost sure Nina had a scowl on her face, which meant she was truly upset on her behavior, as her best friend didn’t get mad that often.

“I’m not sulking, Nina, I’m just… thinking.” Luna pulled away from the hug, turning to sit on her bed, expecting her friend to follow. She did.

“If you were ‘thinking’, as you say, you’d talk to me, because that’s what we do. And yet, you aren’t. So, you’re sulking.” Her brown eyes showed her worry, her tone turning a lot softer, she wondered, “was it that bad? Whatever he said, was it so bad that you’re here, secluded in your room, avoiding your friends?”

She was deliberately avoiding saying his name. “I don’t know if bad is the correct word, but it was so incredibly awkward, Nina! He- he- he said Princesa was written – well, inspired by me. He spent God knows how long watching me from afar and wrote a song about it, said his label was pressuring him to write songs and when he saw me supporting Simón he used me as inspiration. And now finally he, after years, decided to talk to me and it’s- it’s nice but, I don’t know. It’s all a mess up here.” Luna pointer to her head, falling back to lie on her pillow.

“Why does it bother you?” Nina asked cautiously, as if she was choosing her words carefully. Luna frowned.

“What do you mean?” Quietness.

“Why does it bother you that he wrote – or, well, got inspired by you to write a song? Simón’s done it countless of times before; Valiente, Vuelo, Siempre Juntos, Andaremos. They’re all about you, but it doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“Because Simón is my friend, he didn’t write them by watching me through a freaking window and imagining scenarios in his head, not bothering to get to know me or speak to me.” She hoped the look she threw Nina reflected the incredulity she was feeling at the moment.

“What about Eres?” once again, Nina was cautious with her words.

“That’s different.” She replied quickly, trying to dismiss it.

“How?” Another ‘are-you-being-serious’ look sent her friend’s way. “Luna, he wrote this love-song about you, when you weren’t best friends, but mere acquaintances, having spoken a total of fifty-ish words to each other. He literally says in it that you’re – and I quote- ‘the cause, the reason of my songs’. I’m just trying to understand how that doesn’t make it awkward when it comes to Simón, but it does when it comes to Matteo.”

Luna frowned. “Simón had a crush on me, Nina.”

“And Matteo wouldn’t?” Silence. Then her best friend sighed. “I’m not trying to defend Matteo, Luna, and I don’t want you to feel like it needs to be awkward with Simón because of what happened years ago, but I do think you’re making this sound worse than what it actually is. To me it just sounds like he was obviously going through a bad patch and you – the idea of you- helped him get out of it. The guy didn’t stalk you, he never appeared on your window to watch you sleep, he just wrote a song about finding someone he could fall in love with. You just happened to be the face for it.”

Luna pondered her words. Was Nina, right? Was she exaggerating the situation more than she had to? Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to be creepy, but a small part of her still thought of it that way. There was nothing wrong with feeling this way, was it? Her feelings were her feelings, and she didn’t want to dismiss them, but she could acknowledge that this wasn’t just her situation, but Matteo’s, too.

Finally, she asked; “you think what he did is right?”

“No, I just don’t think it’s wrong.” Nina smiled softly. “I understand it bothers you, though, so I’m not going to push you to talk to him, or to see things the way I do, but-”

“But you want me to see your perspective, too and take it in mind.” Nina’s smile got a little bigger.

“Exactly.” She reached out to grab her hand, squeezing just a little in support. “I see the way he looks at you, Luna. I know, in the farthest of your mind, you’re wondering if his interest is made up by the idea he had of you then. But I- we all have seen him when he’s around you; he just, he gravitates towards you, like you’re the sun to his earth, and he just can’t help it; his eyes follow you everywhere, smiling when you do the smallest of things, and he beams when you give him the smallest of attention. And I’ve seen you, Luna, the way your eyes search for his, when you lean in his direction to let him know you care about what he’s saying, when you smile at him hoping he smiles back; and, even now, I see you worrying over all of this, when, if it were another person, you would just dismiss it and try to act flattered. You’re the moon to his earth, you gravitate around him, too. Think about it, yeah?”

“I will.” She promised, gaining her another smile from her best friend. “Can we drop it for now, though? I feel like all we’ve done lately is talk about him.”

“Of course. I’ve been meaning to ask you if you were in the mood for travelling soon? I’m not sure where yet, but my camera has been calling my name and I have a couple ideas for Felicity’s new book.”

“You just launched one a month ago and you’re already thinking of the next one?” She joked, knowing well her friend was just planning ahead.

“Not soon-soon, but I like to reserve the plane tickets by at least three months, you know that.”

Luna laughed. “Yes, I know, I’ve been going with you for years.”

“So, you coming then? I want to make a special feature on Felicity’s best friend now that you’re done with competitions.”

“Of course, though, I might not be able to stay for the whole trip this time.” She apologized, sitting up to look at Nina’s face, who looked confused. She decided to explain, “you know how my dream’s always been opening my own rink, right?”

“Of course, I know! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t? Don’t tell me, it’s happening?!” she gasped excitedly, covering her mouth with one of her hands, letting a couple of squeals out.

Luna nodded, beaming at her happiness for her. “I’ve just begun looking for potential places, and Juliana e-mailed me a couple of addresses to check out around here, so, if everything goes nicely…”

“You’ll have to be in town to coordinate, of course. That’s amazing, Luna!”

“You’re not mad, right? I will travel with you for a week or two, I promise-”

“How could I be mad? This is your dream, L! I knew one day this would come eventually, and I couldn’t be happier for you right now! Maybe this could be the best friend feature, if you agree? That way you wouldn’t have to travel at all.”

“No, no, I want to go with you for a couple days, really. You can make the feature about the rink if you want but travelling together is something I don’t want to miss with you, it’s our thing.” Nina grinned, reaching out her arms to hug her.

“I would love that! But only if I get to see how your dream builds into reality; I want to capture it all in pictures for us to see in the future.”

“Wouldn’t you need to stay in town for that? I can’t ask that from you, N.”

“I never said we’d travel to the other side of the world. The countries around are lovely, and they’re perfect of a weekend-long trip.” Nina shrugged it off as if it were nothing to be worried about. Luna wasn’t as sure as her friend and voiced her reluctance.

“Nina…” Her friend was having none of it.

“No, Luna, it’s alright, I want to do it, okay? You’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed – hell, you’ve travelled with me for years, renting rinks to practice for competitions around the world when you could’ve stayed behind and not worry about schedules to be there for me. Please let me do this for you?”

She sighed out, smiling with the gratitude she was feeling for having someone like Nina with her. “Thank you for doing this for me, N. I love you.”

“You’re welcome, I love you too.” She chirped out, giving her another hug before turning to her laptop, “is that from Tamara? ‘It’s done’ – is that about the deals you had left to break with the sponsors?”

“No, there’s a week left for that.”

“Then?”

“I agreed to do the interview with Jazmín.”  Nina froze at her words. It was funny, really, since she was in the middle of grabbing one of her pillows, so her arm was left hanging in the air.

“You did?” her voice was back to being cautious, as if she’d get angry at her for questioning her. It made Luna frown.

“Yes. Tamara and you were right, and it’s a great idea; I owe it to the fans to explain in a more-personal-way and tell them it was something I decided on my own, for my own good.”

Nina nodded. “You’ll do it alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe you could bring someone along? I think Delfina said something about Ma- he being there?”

“He won’t. I asked them not to, I want to do this for my fans, since it’s about my career. If Jazmín asks about him, I’ll just tell her the truth.” Nina pursed her lips, looking worried for her.

To be honest, it was getting on her nerves now. Nobody had to tip-toe around her, as if she’d break if they added pressure to the wound. Sure, it’d hurt as fuck, but she wouldn’t break. She was strong enough to bear it.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.” She reassured her, smiling, trying to calm Nina’s worry. “Now, how about we go out for dinner? I’m craving cochinita, what do you think?”

“Only if you pay.” Nina gave her a small smile.

She returned it with a grin. “Deal.”

BREAKING: MATTEO’S LITTLE PROBLEM!

If you don’t know who Matteo Balsano is, you’re probably lying.

Italy’s most famous singer has been everywhere for the last seven years, from T.V. shows, to magazines and newspapers, his face is engraved to our minds and hearts! And how could it not, when his enormous talent, outgoing personality and good looks are more than enough to make girls and boys swoon all over the globe?!

Now, you’re probably wondering, then what’s the problem you read in our headline? Well, Matteístas, you might want to sit down because this is nothing except Shocking. With a capital S.

Rumor has it our Italian Casanova is a small bean… down there.

And no, we’re not talking about a slightly smaller size than the average. Oh no, we’re talking about a true, peanut-sized member. Because yes, we really meant that.

Matteo Balsano has a micropenis.

You heard it here first, folks! And we know you, you’re probably wondering if this is an early April Fool’s joke, or if we were hacked by aliens. The answer is no. We were able to talk to one of the friends of one of Matteo’s physician’s (ex) nurse and… it’s legit info. She told us; “he’s tried to keep it secret from his fanbase. He doesn’t want his image to be affected by this, or the opinion people have of his music to change so he keeps it quiet, even more so than other patients with the same problem.”

We tried to attach some pics, but, unfortunately, we gotta keep this magazine non-porn for your innocent and pure minds (sorry). But, trust us, it was absolutely, and undoubtedly, a peanut!p with Matteo’s face. It even makes us wonder if this is the reason our little (hehe) heartbreaker doesn’t last with the girls he’s seen with?

Ámbar Smith and Sol Benson offered no comment on the matter. (NDA’S? You bet your wig that’s a yes!)

Matteo, if you’re reading this: Rock that bean, baby! Us, real fans, will love you anyway! ♥

Want to know more? Visit our website!

No lo puedo entender, ¿cómo no te has dado cuenta? / Lo mucho que te quiero pienso no es normal / Pero tengo miedo de pensar, que no te vayas a enamorar / Y que me digas que te olvide, que es complicado intentar /

He tried the words out, his fingers moving on its own as he thought the melody and hoped it would translate into reality as he played the keys on his piano; writing the notes he liked on the music sheet he had in front of him. His eyes lingering on the crossed word of the third lyric. Too soon, his brain kept replying, so he shook his head and sighed, deciding it was enough for the day. He had made a great progress the last couple of days, so a break wouldn’t hurt. In fact, it was probably the smartest idea.

Composing usually brought out his true feelings into words, and he wasn’t ready to read them all just yet when he hadn’t prepared himself to deal with them.  

“MATTEO!” Gastón’s shout was barely audible on his studio, but he could tell it was an urgent one. There was an edge in his voice that had him worried.

He stood up quickly, racing to the living room. Gastón had shrugged off his coat, lying on one of their couches. In his hand, he was holding a newspaper.

“What is it?” he asked anxiously; his friend pursed his lips, and dropped the newspaper on their coffee table, motioning for him to pick it up. He did.

He almost sighs in relief when he saw it wasn’t related with Luna. However, as he started reading, and his brain started making sense of the words, his jaw dropped open. Matteo must’ve been dreaming. He had to. This couldn’t be happening to him, Delfina wouldn’t dare.

“I found it laying outside our door.” Was the only thing Gastón said, crossing his arms, waiting for him to speak.

“She wouldn’t dare.” He repeated his thoughts out loud. His best friend grimaced.

“I told you, you had to be careful.” He got closer, to pat his back comfortingly. “On a bright note, your fans don’t seem to buy it.”

He buffed, grabbing his phone from his back pocket. “She wouldn’t dare!” The phone only rang twice before Delfi picked up.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck, Delfi?!” He exclaimed, throwing the paper to the ground, loudly.

The woman sounded bored as she replied, “oh, it’s you.”

“Of course, it’s me! What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Gastón mouthed to him to calm down, but he flipped him off. How could he speak of calming down? Wasn’t he seeing what was happening right now?

“I see you finally received my gift. You’re welcome.”

“I’m not thanking you, Delfina! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Your job is to protect me, not to- to defame me this way!”

“I warned you, Matteo. I told you not to make any rash decisions that could put you and Ámbar in trouble, but what did you do? You acted like a spoiled brat and did it anyway!”

“I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know the workers there would run their mouths off to the media?!” he defended himself, his fingers gripping the sides of his phone tightly. Matteo was finding hard not to scream things he knew he’d regret later.

“How long have you been in the spotlight Matteo? You aren’t a fucking newbie, you know to need to behave, no matter if you’re in a public place or a deserted island!”

He finally snapped. “That’s the shittiest bullshit, Delfina! And even if I didn’t behave like the little kid you want me to, your fucking job is to protect me, I don’t pay you to start stupid rumors that could ruin me!”

She was quiet for a moment. He was about to throw his phone, thinking she’d hung up on him, when she spoke again. “Have you read the footnote, you dick?”

“What?”

“The footnote at the end, you haven’t read it, have you?” she sounded amused, her laugh loud enough to alert Gastón something was on. He mouthed ‘footnote’ at him, pointing down at the discarded paper on the floor. His friend was fast to pick it up, and scanned the article, grimacing as he read the very end of it.

“What does it say?” He asked him, both anxious and scared of what was awaiting him. Gastón passed the paper, pointing the text to him. ‘Gotcha! Consider this a warning; don’t mess with my patience, Balsano! Next time I’ll be sending this to Miss Luna Valente and, trust me, she’ll drop you and your micropenis faster than you can say pasta.  – Delfina. P.S. In case your little brain doesn’t get it: yes, it’s fake, you idiot.’ “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’.” She laughed again, unable to stop herself.

“I’m sorry, Delfi. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” He sighed out, begrudgingly. “I still don’t appreciate your joke, though.”

“I would never purposefully, much less publicly ‘defame’ you, Matteo, and frankly, I’m offended you believed I would.” She truly sounded offended, so he apologized again. “I accept apology gift-cards, only. Oh, and a pay-raise.”    

He snorted. “I gave you one less than two months ago.”      

“Couldn’t hurt to try. Also, I’m glad you called me. I have news.”

Matteo’s brows raised. “Good or bad?”

“I’ll let you decide. Tamara called me, she told me Lovergirl agreed to do the interview with Jazmín.”

“You mean Luna?” He could picture his manager rolling her eyes at him right then.

“Yes, Luna. Anyway, back to what’s important: she wants to do it alone. I tried to persuade her to let you go with her, but she refused, saying that silence was the best way to refute any rumor. She’ll only speak of her reasons to quit, and nothing more. If – or, well, when Jaz asks about you, she’ll say you two have never been anything other than platonic.”

So, she was still avoiding him. He knew it shouldn’t shock him, he was expecting it to happen, but, it still hurt him. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Matt. I tried my best, but she seems set on avoiding public contact with you.” Delfi sounded apologetic, her voice turning a bit softer.

“I know, it’s okay. I’ll just have to figure out another way.” He replied quietly. He was reminded of Gastón’s presence in the room when he put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Everything okay?’ he mouthed, Matteo nodded.

“She also asked me if I was willing to give her a couple of classes on how to deal with Jazmín. Maybe you could be a student t-”

He interrumpted her. “No. I don’t – I don’t want to force her to deal with me. Whe – if she comes around I want it to be because she wants to, not because we are forcing her to come. I owe her space.”

“You sure? Some people need just a little push in the right direc-” Delfina tried talking him into it, but Matteo knew he couldn’t do it anymore. He’d pushed his way many times, sometimes bordering creepiness, and he didn’t want to do it again. It hadn’t turned well, if his actual situation was any tell.

“No, Delfi. It’s best if we give her some time. Look where my pushing lead me to.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, though…”

“I’ll call you.” He promised, and then turned the conversation to a professional one, anything not to keep talking about her. He had a meeting with his label soon, to check up on his composition progress, and discuss possible collaborations with other artists. As soon as Gastón felt he didn’t need him, he excused himself saying he was going to shower.

Inwardly, Matteo sighed as Delfi started babbling about the candidates for collaborations, his mind going far away from it.

When had he reach this point? The one where all he could think about was her? She consumed his mind, his thoughts, and if he was brave enough to admit to himself, she consumed his heart, too. And yet, he couldn’t have her. He’d scared her off his life.

A part of him wondered what would happen if he tried forgetting her. There were millions of girls out there, surely there was at least one he could fall in love with. Maybe it was time for him stop lying to himself. He couldn’t keep on feeding his own fantasies any longer, the more time it passed, the more it hurt him.

She’d been right when she told him they barely knew each other, as the time they’d spent together was minimal, and, truthfully, most of it had been completely platonic; she’d barely, if ever, given him the ‘interested’ vibe. She’d treated him as nothing more than a friend, she was freaked out when she found his secret, and she was avoiding him.

There were no maybe’s in his mind now.

He had to accept she wasn’t meant to be his.

He had to accept she wasn’t interested.

He had to let her go.

[zoemurph]

to have a friend, chapter 10: $233

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

haha im dying!

thank you for being patient. i have one essay left, a group project (that includes another essay :P), a final quiz, a flash fiction piece, and a final. and i'm done with my first semester of college? i'm actually...taking next semester off so...probably more consistent updates after this. phew. oh and i won nano? wild

i'm exhausted and genuinely don't like at least 75% of this chapter, but it's done. please please p l e a s e read the end notes for a little disclaimer thanks

warnings: anxiety, depression, panic attacks, let me know if any other warnigns should be added

enjoy~

Sometimes Connor has the really strong urge to hold Evan’s hand.

It’s a weird feeling. This desire to just reach out and take Evan’s hand in his own and not even say anything, just hold it.

Sometimes Connor thinks that romantic feelings are bullshit. Especially when it’s seven in the morning and Evan sees him waiting by the locker and lights up like the goddamn sun and Connor’s stomach tries to become an Olympic gymnast.

Like right now.

Evan stands next to Connor, their arms almost touching, as he talks to Alana. They’re still trying to figure out a name for their club, because for whatever reason, Alana refuses to use The Fuck Project.

Jared thinks it’s hilarious, which has somehow worked against the name.

Alana is going on about the details. Evan nods, and he probably knows what’s going on, but Connor’s zoned out. Alana has this in the bag and also Connor isn’t actually involved in their little pet project. Even if the initial idea did come from Alana being way too fucking nosy.

She’s nice when she’s not picking Connor’s brain.

So Alana and Evan talk and Connor stands and people pass them and time until the next class starts ticks down and down and down. It’s a nice moment. Weirdly calm. For once, Connor doesn’t feel entirely awful, despite where he is and everything about himself.

He still wants to hold Evan’s hand.

It’s not like Connor actively tries to think about it. The opposite, in fact. As soon as thoughts about dating Evan pop up, he shoves them to the very back of his brain. He quarantines them away in the darkest corners, because thinking about it hurts.

Evan has made himself a constant in Connor’s life. But a temporary constant. Which is weird and annoying and tiring. Sometimes Connor’s emotions bubble up inside him and threaten to spill out and then Evan will give him this look when Connor pays him and everything just vanishes. Evan looks at Connor and all Connor’s thoughts shrink back and go ‘fuck never mind’.  

That doesn’t mean that he’s actually good about not thinking it. He’s getting worse, actually. It’s turning into a mild problem.

Evan can just look at Connor and Connor’s heart will flip and his mind will be consumed with ‘holy fuck I would date the shit out of him’.

He would. Connor has absolutely zoned out staring at Evan on multiple occasions. He keeps passing it off as being tired and honestly it’s a miracle that Evan hasn’t started asking about Connor’s sleep schedule— which is a disaster but isn’t why Connor keeps staring Evan.

Connor keeps staring at Evan because his brain is a fucking traitor and likes to think about what it would be like to kiss Evan.

Of all the boys to fall in love with, Connor had to go and fall in love with Evan Hansen.

Connor checks his phone under his desk. It’s been facedown on his desk — he’s making an attempt in calculus because he’s doing a really shit job right now and he has to pass because he literally cannot spend a day longer in this hellscape than he has to — but he can see the screen lighting up repeatedly.

From: Ev To: Connor      AR eyou in clasright no w      Of cours e youre in c alss where els e wi oudl you b      Im so ryrcan you g et out ?

Connor squints at the board. There are x’s and t’s and some other bullshit that he doesn’t understand. A lot of lines and marks.

Fuck.

He opens another conversation.

From: dickbag To: assface      you any good at calc?

Jared replies surprisingly fast. Actually, not so surprisingly. Connor is actually not surprised at all that Jared uses his phone in class.

From: assface To: dickbag      ive got a mean b in calc bc      y

Connor raises his hand and asks to go to the bathroom. The teacher waves him out the door and keeps teaching.

From: assface To: dickbag      i have to do something and i need to not fail      you willing to tell me what the fuck is happening?

From: Connor To: Ev      where are you? got out of class

Connor heads to the bathroom, because he’s already on the third floor and that’s where Evan was last time. And it’s the closest bathroom. His phone buzzes in his hand as he hurries through the hall and he tries not to groan when it’s just Jared.

From: dickbag To: assface      no promises but i can try      dont know y ur coming to me lmao      also i charge $10/hr

From: assface To: dickbag      fine but youre a dick

Connor pushes the bathroom door open. The lights are on, someone’s been in here in the past ten minutes, but the bathroom is empty. He drags his hand through his hair and catches a look at himself in the mirror.

Wow. He looks like shit.

Connor rubs his face and checks his phone again. It’s been buzzing, but it’s just been Jared.

From: dickbag To: assface      not news      whats so important that ur running out of class??      o shit drugs?      420 blaze it      i dont kno weed culture

As Connor scrolls through Jared’s messages, a text from Evan pops up on the top of his screen.

From: Ev To: Connor      J aanito s clostesecond follr

Connor runs into a wide eyed freshman as he hurries out of the bathroom and swings around a corner to get to the stairs. He only vaguely knows where that closet it, because he’s never had a reason to pay attention to it. Janitor’s closets are usually locked and it’s not like Connor is observant when it comes to his surroundings.

He skips the last few steps and just jumps down to the landing, slowing to a fast walk as he searches the hallway for the janitor’s closet. He finds it tucked into a corner between two classrooms. He glances up and down the hallway before he knocks softly. He tries the handle and knocks again before he pulls the door open.

“Evan?” he asks softly into the darkened closet. Light from the hallway spills into the darkness, barely brushing Evan’s shoes. Evan is huddled into the corner furthest away from the door, squished between shelves, on the ground with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms covering his head.

Connor stares for a minute, listening to Evan’s ragged breathing, before he steps into the closet. He turns on his phone’s flashlight and covers it with his hand before pulling the door closed. He lets some light slip through his fingers and finds a bottle of Windex on one of the shelves. He puts his phone under it and the room glows blue. Maybe life hacks aren’t always as shitty as they seem.

Connor sits down on the floor next to Evan. “Ev,” he whispers. “Can I help?”

Evan doesn’t look up. After a few seconds he stops holding on to his hair so tightly and holds a shaking hand out to Connor. Connor takes it. Almost immediately, Evan’s hand clenches around Connor’s, squeezing Connor’s fingers tightly. Connor moves over so the position is less awkward and lightly squeezes Evan’s hand back. 

Connor sits and waits, because he doesn’t really know what else to do. He watches Evan’s breathing and tries not to let his mind wander too much, because it’s too early in the day for any of that shit.

Evan loosens his grip on Connor’s hand and the tension seems to run out of his body. He sags against the wall and slowly lifts his head from his knees. He pulls his hand away. “S-sor-sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Connor says. His voice sounds weirdly rough. He clears it and stretches out his fingers.

Evan stares at them. “I— i-if I hurt your…your hand I didn’t mean to I just—”

“You didn’t,” Connor interrupts quickly. “See?” He wiggles his fingers. “Work just fine.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Do you…uh, want to talk about it?”

Evan makes a strangled sound. “N-nothing to… I mean there’s always—” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “D-dr. Sherman always says that— that there’s something? And I just don’t u-understand what so I’m…supposed to process it. But I just…”

“I think it’s a fucking lot to ask you to process shit right after a panic attack,” Connor says flatly.

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I don’t— I-I forget. I forget what I’m— what I feel in the moment a-and what I was thinking and then when she asks what was going through my mind I can’t tell her and then I feel worse and like a failure and I think I’m supposed to be getting better because I go to therapy and I take meds and—” Evan cuts himself off to take a deep breath. “It takes time,” Evan says softly. “It takes time. It takes time and it’ll get better it just—”

“Takes time?” Connor asks.

Evan smiles at him weakly. “Y-yeah.”

The bell rings, slightly muffled. Evan goes tense.

Connor thinks about his calculus teacher. She probably won’t be thrilled that he skipped out on the rest of class, but whatever. Maybe he’ll do homework for once and try to get back on her disinterested side.

“Your mom is working right now, isn’t she?” Connor asks slowly.

Evan nods. “Yeah, she’s a-always working. Pretty much.”

“We’ve still got three classes to get through.” Connor bumps their knees together. “Can you hide out in the nurse’s office or something? I’d say just leave, but…” Evan shakes his head. “Yeah, exactly. I don’t know shit about doing things the ‘right’ way.”

“I’ll…be okay,” Evan says.

Connor stares at him.

“It’s-it’s really fine,” Evan insists.

“Ev—”

“I’ve done it before, it’s not a big… I’ll just— it’s okay, really.”

“You aren’t taking the bus home today,” Connor says. He gets to his feet and takes the Windex off of his phone. “Light warning.” Evan covers his eyes. Connor flicks the light on and winces in the brightness before shutting off his flashlight. He slides his phone into his pocket and offers Evan his hand.

Evan takes it and lets Connor haul him to his feet. “Y-you don’t have to—”

“Fuck the bus,” Connor interrupts. “Zoe has a perfectly good car.”

Evan blinks. “Doesn’t she have rehearsal today?”

“How do you know my sister’s schedule better than I do?” Connor opens the door of the closet and peers out into the hallway. They have to be careful, because high school is fucking hell. Most people won’t give a shit and don’t pay attention to shit, but all it takes is one person assuming something. When no one is looking, he steps out of the closet and pulls Evan along, walking away from the closet quickly and melting into the thinning crowd. “So what if we have to wait for her to get out, just hang around with me for a little bit.”

As soon as Connor says it, his stomach twists. “I don’t have any today but—”

Evan stops walking, yanking Connor back a bit. They’re still holding hands. Connor pulls his away and puts his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“D-don’t,” Evan says.

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You’re already— you’re doing me a favor by…by driving me home. So you don’t have to…” Evan gestures with his hands. “Debt paid. It’s— you’re fine.” Connor stares at him. “I— okay.”

Evan takes a step back. “I have to… I have class. I’ll see you after.” He spins on his heel and walks down the hallway, dodging other students before disappearing around a corner.

—«·»—

Connor drops into his seat in the back of AP Literature and puts his head down on his desk.

He needs to think about something — anything — other than Evan. Evan is supposed to be the one who thinks himself into an anxious spiral, not Connor. And Connor can’t help but feel like something is horribly wrong.

But, fuck, he wouldn’t stop their arrangement for anything. He’ll keep paying Evan to put up with him in the halls for as long as he possibly can, just to see Evan smile.

He wants to see Evan smile today. Anything other than the empty expression he had on his face when he walked away from Connor earlier.

Alana sits down next to Connor. Sometimes Connor forgets him and Alana talk now, even if it’s only because she’s Evan’s friend and probably thinks this is a good way to keep tabs on Evan. All she’s ever wanted from Connor is information, anyway.

Connor stares out the window at the icy field hockey field spread out in front of the school as the teacher starts the lesson. Something about the essay they have due in a few days at midnight.

Alana hands over her essay, printed and typed, five pages long double spaced and stapled in the corner. “It’s just a rough draft,” she says.

Connor blinks at the paper. “Uh…were we supposed to…”

She shakes her head. “No, we just needed to have an outline today.” She adjusts her glasses and opens a notebook. “But if you didn’t—”

“I did,” Connor says quickly. He actually did for once. “Here.” He pulls out his notebook and flips through pages and pages of shitty sketches to the section where he just stuffs any loose papers he’s handed. He pulls out the outline and smooths it out a little. “Don’t expect anything.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Alana says as she takes it from him.

Connor squints at her. “I did this while high so it’s either a brilliant disaster or just a fucking mess.”

Alana grins. “I hope it’s a brilliant disaster.”

“Probably not.”

She just shrugs and pulls out a pen, tapping it on her notebook as she skims over the outline. Connor turns to Alana’s essay and starts reading. Alana likes words and complex sentences. She’s good at backing up her points with evidence from the text, and doesn’t dance around her conclusions. She has a structure and logic to her essay that Connor’s never been able to achieve. He just sort of says words until he feels like he’s done.

He reads her fourth paragraph a few times, picking at his nail polish as he does so. He glances over to Alana and then reads it again.

She’s scribbling on his outline when he looks back to her. She meets his eyes. “Something wrong?”

Connor’s eyes flick from her to her essay. “Uh…no.”

Alana rolls her eyes and hands him her pen. “Fix it. Whatever it is. That’s the entire point of peer review.”

“I could be wrong—” Connor starts, but Alana holds up a hand to stop him.

“I’ll decide what to do with your feedback. Just do it.”

Connor nods slowly and hesitates with the pen hovering over the paper. “What are you doing, by the way?”

“Translating.”

“What?”

Alana pulls another pen from her backpack and uncaps it. “Your outline is good, you have some really good ideas in here, it’s just lost in the typos and grammar.”

“I can figure it out,” Connor says. “You don’t have to do that shit.”

Alana raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Connor blinks. “…not anymore?”

She nods firmly. “Exactly. You edit mine, I’ll edit yours. You won’t hurt my feelings, please, feel free to rip it to shreds.”

Connor exhales slowly. “Okay, Beck. Whatever.” He strikes out a sentence. “Whatever you say.”    

—«·»—

Connor meets Evan by Evan’s locker. They lock eyes and for a second everything feels weird. And then Jared shows up.

Connor has never been relieved to see Jared Kleinman before.

“What’s up?” Jared asks, clapping a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “My…main bros.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, crossing that off the list.” Jared gives Evan a look and Evan shrugs. Connor looks between them and shifts his weight to his other foot. “Anyway, you free on Saturday?” he asks Evan.

Evan blinks. “Y-yes?”

“My moms wanted you over for dinner. They’re going to try to harass Heidi into coming too but,” Jared shrugs, “we know how that is.”

Evan smiles and ducks his head. “I-I mean— yeah that’d be…that’d be nice. Um, I can…ask my mom?”

“Nice.” Jared holds his fist out for a fist bump. Evan rolls his eyes and knocks their knuckles together. “Okay, text me, cause if she’s working, I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

Evan nods. “O-okay, I will.”

“Sweet, got to dash or I’ll never get out of here.” Jared shoots finger guns at Connor. “See, ya Murph,” he says before sprinting down the hallway.

Connor lifts a hand to wave goodbye as jealousy twists in his stomach. It makes him feel gross. He swallows it and turns to Evan. “So, uh…we can probably hide in a practice room until Zoe’s done.”

Evan pulls on the straps of his backpack. “A-are they, um, open? Because I know, I mean I’ve heard because sometimes the band kids in my classes complain about this, that they lock? Or get locked? So…”

“We can…check?” Connor suggests.

Evan nods. “That’s…probably a good idea.”

Connor leads Evan down to the music wing. The first two practice rooms are locked, but the third that they try is unlocked. Connor raises his eyebrows at Evan and pushes the door open. The lights flicker on automatically and Evan closes the door behind them.

All four of the practice rooms are the same in Connor’s experience, a keyboard and bench, a trash, and maybe a stand or chair that someone has dragged in. Except one, that for some reason, has two pianos. They lucked out and that is exactly the room they’re in. Less room, but it doesn’t really matter.

Evan puts his bag down on one of the piano benches and then sits on the floor in the space between the end of the piano and the wall.

Connor coughs. “Uh…are you…okay?” He winces. Yikes.

“Tired,” Evan says softly.

Connor glances to the light switch before pressing the button to turn off the lights. There’s still a decent amount of light from the window in the door, but it’s darker. Connor puts down his bag and joins Evan on the floor. Evan looks up at him.

“Take a nap,” Connor suggests.

Evan blinks at him.

Connor sighs. “Scoot over.”

Evan moves so he’s as close to the piano as he can get. Connor squeezes into the space between Evan and the wall. There’s way more space in these practice rooms than it seems, the pianos make them look small.

Connor pulls on the sleeve of Evan’s sweatshirt. “Just lean on me. More comfortable than the wall, probably, though I’m basically all bone.”

“Y-you sure?”

Connor rolls his eyes because it feels right. “I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t. Close your eyes, Ev.”

“Okay,” Evan whispers. He rests his head on Connor’s shoulder. “Wake me up if your arm falls asleep.”

“Sure,” Connor lies.

A few minutes later, Evan’s breathing starts to even out. When Connor is sure that he’s asleep, he carefully pulls his phone out of his pocket.

From: C To: Z      waiting in practice room c      evans napping so dont come in just knock or some shit

Once he’s sent the texts, he puts his phone down and turns his attention back to Evan. Connor turns his head to look down at Evan, and when his nose brushes Evan’s hair, his heart goes into double time.

Fuck.

—«·»—

Connor thinks he’s drifted off when Zoe finally knocks on the door. He inhales sharply and sits up straighter, eyes wide. He leans forward to see Zoe standing in front of the door with her guitar on her back and her saxophone in hand.

He leans back and sighs. Okay.

Connor shakes Evan’s shoulder. “Ev, Ev wake up. Zoe’s done.”

Evan groans and blinks blearily. “Huh?”

Connor’s breath catches in his throat. He finds himself lost in Evan’s sleepy eyes for a moment too long and hopes Evan’s still too asleep to notice. “Zoe,” he says. “We can go home now.”

“Oh.” Evan pulls himself to his feet using the piano. About halfway up, he grabs Connor’s arm and pulls Connor up as well.

They grab their bags and open the door.

“Sleep well?” Zoe asks with a smirk.

Connor flips her off behind Evan.

Evan shrugs. “I-it was the floor.”

Connor takes Zoe’s saxophone from her. “Let’s go. I have an essay to write.”

Zoe blinks. “You do?”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.

The parking lot is blissfully empty when they step outside. The air is bitter and cold, and Connor wishes that it would just snow more than half an inch so the burning cold is worth it. He grabs Evan’s arm when Evan slips on ice and Zoe makes an offhanded comment about driving and black ice.

“You know?” she says to Evan.

Evan blinks. “N-no, I don’t— I don’t drive?”

Zoe frowns. “Do you take the bus?”

Evan turns pink, and Connor wonders if he’s redder because of the cold or not. “Yeah, it’s…yeah.”

Zoe looks to Connor.

“What?” Connor asks.

“What time does the bus pick you up?” Zoe asks.

“Uh…” Evan slows his walk. “I— around like…6:35?”

Zoe purses her lips. “Okay. Monday? We can swing by and pick you up.” She twirls her car keys around her finger. “Unless you hate my music choices as much as Connor does.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Evan says quickly.

“Too late,” Zoe sing songs. She unlocks the car and pops the trunk open. She puts her guitar in and then takes her saxophone from Connor. “We’d be happy to, right Connor?”

“Duh,” Connor says. “The bus is bullshit.”

“Good for the environment,” Evan says. “P-public transport!”

“We’re already using this car.” Zoe slams the trunk shut. “So it doesn’t actually matter. No additional cars on the road, just one less Evan the a bus.”

“Uh…”

“Sleep on it.” She rubs her arms. “Let’s go before I freeze.” She glances to Connor as she moves to the driver’s side. “How are you alive?”

Connor shrugs and pulls open the car door. He slides into the backseat next to Evan. “Can’t feel cold if you’re dead inside.”

Zoe twists around in her seat to glare at him before shutting the door. She turns on the car, blasts the heat even though it’s just air at the moment, and plugs her phone in. “Today we’re listening to Billy Joel,” she announces. “Get over it Connor.”

Connor just leans his forehead against the cold window as Uptown Girl plays from the speakers.

Zoe asks for directions a few times, but for the most part, they drive in silence aside from the Billy Joel in the slowly warming car.

Connor sits up when they arrive at Evan’s. “I’ll text you,” he says.

Evan gives him a smile. “Y-yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

“I’ll see you Monday at 6:40!” Zoe calls out before he shuts the door. She turns to look at Connor. “You moving up?”

“I guess.” Connor unbuckles and climbs over the center consul to get into the passenger seat. He buckles back in and Zoe backs out of the driveway.

“So…” she says slowly. “You and Evan.”

“What about us?” Connor asks flatly.

Zoe glances to him. “Anything…up?”

“Do you want me to say it?”

“No, but I can’t stop you from doing shit.”

“The sky.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Great, now that that’s out of the way—”

“Nothing,” Connor interrupts. “Can’t two people be friends?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.” Zoe taps on the steering wheel. “You just seem like more than that.”

Connor scoffs. More like barely that. “We aren’t.”

“Do you want to be?”

Connor stares at the road. “The light is green.”

Connor spends most of his Saturday writing his paper. Because Alana had written all over his outline and now he feels obligated to make something half decent out of the genius she turned his bullshit into. Also, she shared her essay with him on google docs the night before for him to edit — he does not know why the fuck she did that and hates the fact that school emails are standardized so she didn’t even have to ask for his email — and offered to edit his in return. He’s not going to give up that opportunity. He’s doing fine in english but another solid essay grade can get his parents to calm down for at least a day.

He texts Evan and draws when he’s not writing. The other weekend, Cynthia dragged him off to the store with her, so he threw a cheap set of kids’ watercolors in the cart. And a box of Capri sun. He sits on his floor and drinks a Capri sun while he waits for a painting to dry. Evan is making lunch right now, so it’ll be a few minutes before he responds. Evan doesn’t usually text Connor while he’s making food, apparently the risk of fire is higher than normal, and that’s not just Evan’s anxiety talking.

Evan had texted him the night before thanking him for the ride home. Connor had replied ‘what are friends for’ and then threw his phone across the room so he didn’t have to read Evan’s response. It didn’t end up mattering, because Evan’s next text wasn’t sent until this morning, and it was a frantic apology because he fell asleep before responding.

Connor just said it was fine and changed the subject as fast as he could.

Connor sighs and gets to his feet. As he waits for the painting to dry, he’s really fucking impatient, he takes pictures of some of his least shitty doodles from class and posts them on a randomass tumblr he made after Evan suggested posting his art online. Mostly Connor did it out of curiosity, he didn’t really use the site otherwise, just posts drawings and then vanishes for a few days, but it’s also good because it means he has somewhere where all his art was stored digitally. He might’ve accidentally spilt a mug of coffee all over a notebook the other day. And he distinctly remembers setting a few sketchbooks on fire back in middle school.

From: Ev To: Connor      Back ! ANd I didnt evne burn anything

Connor smiles to himself and leans against his bed.

From: Connor To: Ev      congrats you now have the cooking skills of a 12 year old

From: Ev To: Connor      :((

Connor hesitates before typing out his next message. He really shouldn’t ask — it’s a fucking terrible idea on so many levels — but it’s been slowly eating away at him. Which doesn’t make sense. But whatever.

From: Connor To: Ev      doesnt matter though i mean youre having dinner tonight wth jared right??

He puts his phone on his desk and goes back to painting and tries not to think about it for a few minutes. It’s not fair of him to get jealous. Because Jared is trying to get better. He’s still a dick but there’s an attempt there.

Connor hasn’t changed anything.

He sits on the floor and works on the painting. Now that he has slightly less shitty watercolors, they’re still pretty garbage but they aren’t old and mostly gone, he uses way too much purple again.

Whatever.

He doesn’t check his phone again until he has to wait for more paint to dry. He’s tempted to grab a sketchbook and keep ignoring it, but that’s not fair to Evan.

From: Ev To: Connor      Oh  y eah      We used to ha ve dinner a lot togethe r when ew wer elittle      All oru moms were friends      Kinda weird that were doing it again but… NIce?? Hopefull y ?      My mom s ocming which is nice      She hasnt been home ofr a few nights so yeah

Connor takes a slow breath before replying.

From: Connor To: Ev      thats pretty cool      i hope its fun and the food doesnt suck

Evan replies almost immediately, even though Connor took almost twenty minutes to respond.

From: Ev To: Connor      Thnk you!!!      Jareds moms are really good cook sso itll be good I think      I hope dinner goes ok for you tonight !! Good luck :)

Connor stares at the smiley face and falls on his bed with a groan.

—«·»—

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Evan lately,” Larry says, pushing quino around his plate.

Connor resists the urge to roll his eyes. They never really talked about that. Sometimes, when Zoe goes over a friend’s house or has a friend over, Connor will give Larry a very pointed look and Larry will find something on his phone fascinating. An amazing double standard.

And, like? Of course he spends time with Evan. They’re best friends— pretending to be best friends. Connor doesn’t know how to get that through Larry’s thick skull.

Evan is Connor’s best friend.

“Well yeah,” Connor says, stabbing a piece of kale with his fork. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Wait, shit— 

Zoe chokes on her drink.

“What?!” Larry practically shouts, silverware hitting the table.

Connor opens his mouth to explain that technically, no, they aren’t boyfriends, though they are friends who are boys, even if sometimes Evan looks at him and makes Connor feel like he’s turning to putty. But they aren’t actually—

He glances to his mom with wide eyes. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Cynthia smiles, eyes watering. “I’m just so happy for you, sweetie!”

Connor slowly looks around the table. His mother crying tears of joy, his father staring at him in shock, his sister trying to bite back a smile.

Connor needs to talk to Evan immediately.

They’re fucked.

—«·»—

Connor grabs Zoe’s before she can disappear into her bedroom. She stiffens and he pulls his hand away. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” She crosses her arms. “I thought you told me nothing was going on between you and Evan.” She raises her eyebrows.

Connor grimaces. “I— don’t tell Evan.”

Zoe tilts her head. “Don’t tell Evan…you’re dating?”

Fuck. “No, no, fuck.” Connor frantically searches his mind. “I, uh, we weren’t going to…tell people? Yet? And I…fucked that up. So don’t— don’t mention it to him until like he says something or whatever, okay?”

Zoe mimes zipping her lips. “Secret’s safe with me. But also, I fucking knew it.”

Connor forces a laugh and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. You did.”

Zoe goes back into her room and Connor grabs his phone and goes down to the basement. He wonders if he can get his door back for Hanukkah, but for now, this is the only private place he’s got. He would lock himself in the bathroom, but that’s still way too close to the rest of his family members for comfort.

He flicks on the light as he heads down the stairs and grabs a blanket off the back of one of the chairs. The basement is about half finished and has been since Connor was in middle school. One of those projects that Larry never got around to finishing. Now they mostly use it for storage and hanging out when it gets too hot in the summer and even central air isn’t working well enough. Him and Zoe used to camp out for weeks in the basement on air mattresses and stay up way past their bedtimes giggling.

Now it’s December. He hasn’t been down here since he punched the far wall when everyone else was asleep. Him and Zoe haven’t spent time together in here in years. They haven’t done much together in years.

Connor wraps himself in a blanket and sits down in one of the old oversized chairs. They’re only down here because the went out of style and were deemed unworthy for the living room.

He unlocks his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and presses call. Then he listens to the phone ring and hopes that they’re done with dinner at the Kleinmans’ while he waits for the call to be answered.

“Hello?”

Connor grits his teeth. “Hi. I…might need help.”

“Is it about Evan?”

Connor frowns. “Why do you assume it’s about Evan?” It is but—

Jared laughs. “Dude, we aren’t friends. The only reason you talk to me is because of Evan. What’s up?”

Connor blinks. He’s just gotten so used to having Jared constantly around that it’s like they’re basically friends. But not. Because Connor doesn’t have any real friends.  

“I,” Connor clears his throat, “my family now thinks Evan and I are dating.”

There’s a long pause. Connor waits for Jared to start cackling, but Jared just whispers, “Holy shit.”

“Say whatever shit you want to now,” Connor mutters. “Get it out.”

“Holy shit,” Jared repeats. Connor rolls his eyes. “Murphy, what the fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, I fucked up.”

“What are you going to do?” Jared sounds almost amazed.

Connor frowns at the phone. This is not how he thought this conversation would go. “Pay Evan two hundred dollars? I know you meant that as a joke but—”

“Fucking shit, my dude. What the hell!”

Connor drags his hand through his hair. “Kleinman, my mom started crying when I said Evan was my boyfriend, okay? I can’t— fuck. I don’t know.”

Jared whistles.

Connor picks at his nailpolish. “Would Evan…go along with it? Do you think?”  

“I think that’s a question for Evan.”

“I’m asking you.”

Jared snorts. “Okay, fine. I think he’ll go along with it.” It almost feels like Jared is going to say something more, but he doesn’t. “You got two hundred bucks lying around?”

“No,” Connor admits. He has an idea. It’s a terrible idea that could backfire, but it’s an idea.

“So…how are you going to get it?” Jared gasps. “Oh shit! Are we going to rob a bank?”

Connor frowns. “No? Why is that the first thing you came up with? Why would you rob a bank for two hundred dollars? Wouldn’t fucking…normal robbery be easier?”

“Fuck off. Are we doing that?”

“No.”

“Well we both know you’re not getting a job—”

“Fuck you.”

“—and that would probably take too long. Are we going to sell weed?”

“What? No,” Connor says. “Also how long did you restrain yourself before asking that?”

“Too long for that boring answer and reaction,” Jared admits. “Give me something to work with, stoner kid. We could just steal it. I know you said no, but—”

“Jared what the fuck,” Connor interrupts.

“Dude, you aren’t offering any ideas here, I’m just trying to help out.”

Connor rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fucking— do you know how PayPal works?”

“Yeah sure,” Jared says. “Super easy, why?”

Connor sighs. “Would you be willing to help me set one up?”

“Ten bucks.”

“Fine.”

“Yeah sure, you wanted some help on calc anyway. Do you have info on your bank account, by the way?”

“I…can find it,” Connor says slowly. “Does tomorrow work? My house?”

“Yeah sure, my man. Shoot me an address and a time. I expect snacks.”

 Jared shows up on the doorstep ten minutes earlier than Connor expected with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a Starbucks drink in his left hand. “Sup.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re early.”

“Fashionably.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Whatever.”  

Zoe leans out of the dining room. “Who’s here?”

Connor steps aside to let Jared in. Jared waves at Zoe.

Zoe squints. “What are you doing here?”

“So nice to see you again too, Smaller Murphy,” Jared says. He kicks his shoes off and puts them next to Zoe’s converse.

“Calc,” Connor says. “I’m…not doing great.”

“But you aren’t failing yet,” Jared says. “So we’re just going to keep you from not doing that. What are you learning again?”

Connor shrugs. “Something implicit. I’ll show you the homework.”

Jared nods. “Chill, chill.”

“Aren’t you friends with Alana?” Zoe asks.

“I…guess?” Connor frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“She’s the valedictorian, isn’t she? Why didn’t you ask her for help?”

“Uh…” Connor looks to Jared.

Jared takes a sip of his drink. “I’m genuinely offended, by the way. I’m no Alana Beck but I am passing AP Calc BC, which is more than you can say for seventy percent of our class. Don’t take it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Zoe assures him. “Just didn’t tutoring was your…thing.”

“Alana tutors,” Jared says.

“I know, that’s my point.”

“Ha ha very funny. She tutors a lot of people so it makes sense that I take someone off her workload.” Jared points to Connor. “As her friend, Connor understands.”

“Right.” Connor nods. “That.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t judging you or anything I was just wondering. Have fun. Don’t set the house on fire, I’m going over Pippa’s to work on our history project, and Mom and Dad are out shopping or something.”

“I’ll keep Jared away from anything breakable,” Connor promises.

“I remind you I’m doing you a favor,” Jared says.

“You’re making me pay you.”

“Shit you’re right.”

—«·»—

“This is easy shit,” Jared says, looking up from Connor’s textbooks. “Really easy.”

Connor flips him off.

“I’ll explain it!” Jared promises. “This makes my job easier, probably. So back to real reason I’m here—”

“You are here to help me with math.” Connor reaches for his laptop. “I’m going to open commissions.”

Jared stares at him with a blank expression.

“Commissions,” Connor repeats slowly.

Jared blinks. “Since when do you draw?”

“Do you actually know anything about me?” Connor asks.

Jared looks away. “Valid. How can I help?”

“Mostly just need help with PayPal. And maybe wording the post? I don’t know shit about talking to people.” Connor opens his laptop and logs in. He closes a few tabs and opens up tumblr. He hesitates and then opens his blog. “Here.”

“Your theme is awful,” Jared says flatly.

“Did I ask you?”

“Didn’t have to.” Jared clicks a few times. “Dude, if you want to be selling your art, you need a theme that isn’t painful to look at.” Connor opens his mouth to protest, but Jared holds up a hand. “I’m doing you a favor here. Give me like ten minutes. I will change your world.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

Jared pushes away in the desk chair. “Too late, I’m not helping if we don’t change this ugly ass theme. Doodle or something while I do this. Make a commissions banner, I don’t fucking know.” Jared hunches over the laptop and starts typing.

Connor stares at him. Hopefully Jared isn’t going to charge him for this too.

Forty minutes later, Connor is putting aside a random drawing and Jared is looking up from the laptop.

“Bam, motherfucker,” Jared announces spinning the laptop around. “A picture heavy theme with easy navigation, readable text, and colors that don’t make me want to stab my eyes out.” Connor leans forward to see it. It actually looks pretty decent. And pretty professional. Jared has also added a few links, including one to Connor’s still nonexistent PayPal and a commissions page. “By the way, your art is pretty rad.”

Connor blinks. “Thanks. Did you want that bank account information?”

“Yeah sure.”

Connor gets up from the floor. “Let’s break into my dad’s office.”

Jared sets aside the laptop. “Sweet.”

—«·»—

Connor sits down in the chair in Larry’s office. He pulls open one of the lower drawers in the desk and flips through the the hanging folders until he finds one with his name.

“Don’t steal my identity or anything,” he says to Jared as he hands him one of the folders. “But see if anything in there is what you need.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jared starts flipping through the papers. “Your identity is too lame to steal.”

“Thanks.”

Connor skims over various forms and papers with his name all over them. So weird that he’s attached to all of these things but doesn’t understand any of them. That might be concerning. Is he supposed to know what these mean? He squints at something that looks like it has something to do with money.

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Jared mutters.

Connor looks up. “With?”

“This fake dating shit.” Jared puts a stack of papers down on the desk. “I thought this was convoluted before.”

“You helped.”

“So you two keep reminding me.” Jared flips a piece of paper over. “I think this is it.”

“Cool.” Connor puts his folder away and Jared puts Connor’s laptop on the desk. Connor fills out what he can and Jared helps with the rest.

“And you have a PayPal,” Jared announces, finishing the form. “If you click this you can transfer money to your bank account, which is how you’ll get the money off the internet and into Evan’s hands.”

Connor nods. “Makes sense.” He grabs the papers and puts them back into the folder. He puts it back in the bottom drawer and makes sure everything is just how Larry left it before he gets up from the chair.

“I genuinely didn’t think either of you would get invested in this shit,” Jared says as they stop in the kitchen to grab a bag of chips.

Connor shrugged. “I fucked up, that doesn’t mean anything.”

Jared gives him a flat look before biting into a chip. “Let’s just finish this shit so I can teach you how implicit differentiation works.”

Connor wrinkles his nose. “Fine.”

They bring the bag of chips up to Connor’s bedroom and sit on the floor with Connor’s laptop in front of them. Between handfuls of chips, Jared sentences to the post.

“We can’t call it ‘I’m Gay Give Me Money’,” Connor protests.

“Why not?” Jared asks. “It’s tumblr.”

“What’s your point?”

Jared pulls the laptop closer and starts typing. “We just say like… ‘I’m trying to meet my boyfriend’, we stay vague on the details no one wants to know the complexity of this shit and also it’s weird as fuck, ‘so I’m opening commissions’. Blah blah blah here are details…” Jared looks up at Connor. “Any suggestions for prices?”

Connor shrugs.

“You are the least helpful person,” Jared mutters. “Okay…going on what I saw on your blog…” He types rapidly for a few minutes. “And posted.”

“What?!” Connor grabs the laptop from Jared. “Why did you do that?!”

“You weren’t going to have anything to say so fuck it, it’s posted.” Jared pops another chip in his mouth. “Chill the fuck out.”

Connor reloads the page to check the post. He doesn’t have any idea if the prices are reasonable, but Jared put up Connor’s email and a link to his PayPal and tagged the post with a few tags that make sense and a few that don’t.

Connor groans. “If you fucked this up for me—”

“I didn’t,” Jared says. “I am doing you so many solids right now. And now I’m about to try to teach you calculus. I am literally a god.”  

Connor resists the urge to slam his head against the keyboard.  

[franeridart]

hey fran, i really love you & your art!! i fell in love w your bokuroteru tattoo au after reading it through, and then i found your bakushimas and i love them so much! you're actually the reason i found the motivation to start bnha lol and i'm really glad i did, so thx!

Thank you!!!!!! So much!!!!!!!!!! For liking my stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *O* and you’re most welcome, I’m super happy you’re liking it!!!!!

Anon said:I love dragons and I love kiri and I love your art so that post is like all three of my favourite things rolled into one, B L E S S.

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:your traditional sketches are so cool!!! i feel like it kinda adds like depth to it or something but like those are so neat what if you lined some

Thanks!! And I’ve actually thought about that, but I’m not much a fan of going back on stuff I already posted... it’s more probably I’ll just go back to the concept and draw more instead of lining those haha

Anon said:FRAN UR TRADITIONAL ART IS SO CUTE OMG ITS SO GOOD (also DRAGONSSSS)

GAH I’M SO DAMN HAPPY YOU GUYS ACTUALLY LIKED THOSE OH MY G O D S

Anon said:voltron third season is cOMING SOON AS IN TWO DAYS AAAAAA ARE U EXCITED?

Anon... my pal... my dear friend... I don’t know how to break this to you but... I haven’t even properly watched s2 yet...

Anon said:i started reading bnha bc i wanted to understand your art better, and I gotta say it's a really great series. thanks for inspiring me to read it. finished the manga today and my favs are definitely kirishima, tamaki, toshinori and fatgum. actually I knew kiri would be my fave anyway bc 75% of why i got interested in your bnha drawings was bc of him...he's just?? so good?? that aside your art is incredible and your characterizations of the bakusquad are perfect. you're super cool, keep doing you!

I’m!!!!!!!!!!!! aaahhh!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you so much oh my god ;A; I’m happy you decided to try it, I’m super happy you ended up liking it, and I’m indecently happy you actually do like Kirishima!!!!! BOI!!!!!!!!!!!! He needs all the love he can get, the pure son ;A;

Anon said:your art is so good wth!! everytime i get the notif that you posted i get so excited!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!

Anon said:The fuck is shitty ab these traditional art pics. They're good, everything u do is good, don't play blind u perfect shit

Tough love! Sometimes this comes around my inbox too haha it’s fine anon, the reason why I rarely draw traditionally is that I never feel like I’m done with a drawing when I do, feel incomplete for however much details I put in because tbh there’s always more I can do on them, so with shitty I mostly meant “incomplete” lol going okay this is finished is something I don’t know how to do with traditional doodles hah

Anon said:yo what happened to your hand bro?

Therapy with my dermatologist that ends up giving me blisters on one of my fingers! It’s nothing serious, but makes arting sorta hard haha

Anon said:You should draw more kiribaku kids it had me really interested and brought out my happy

Should I 👀👀👀 an ugly word, let’s try with could next time shall we - that said, seems like yall really did like something that for me was a one time thing! I might get back on them in the near future, just because that post seems to have blown up way more than I had anticipated haha

Anon said:ahhhhhhh i absolutely love your art. i've been feeling very irritated lately and your kiribaku / kiribakushima art really helps calm me down.

This makes me super happy to know!!!! Oh my gods!!!!!! I hope life has stopped getting on your nerves in the couple days it took me to answer, anon!!!

Anon said:Headcanon: kirishima plays dream daddy

To be honest I don’t know anything about that game aside from “it’s a dating sim” and “it’s gay”, but either way to me it sounds more like something Kaminari would play hahaha

Anon said:Hey Fran! I recently caught up with the BNHA anime thanks to you (still have to get around to the manga) and I loveeee itt so much (pretty much adopted like 20 kids😂) have a lil question tho, in your AU/bnha comic thingy are Bakugo and Midoriya finally like... "okay" friends? Or is Bakugo still acting like he hates the poor boy? Thanks in advance and also absolutely love your art~😍

WEEEEHHHHYYYYYY I’m glad you decided to check it out, anon!!!!! But, I’m sorry I’m gonna need you to be more specific here since I don’t have any “ongoing” AU for that fandom atm - exactly which comic are you referring to?

Anon said:I've been restraining myself from going on Tumblr to once a month max for like a year or so now because it was exams and then I had a new year (MY LAST YEAR) of high school to worry about, and I know me. When I go on Tumblr, I stay on Tumblr for literally an entire day. Or more. And then I accidentally stumbled upon your stuff today and wasted (thoroughly enjoyed) a day of scrolling through your art and asks. I never knew I shipped bakushima so hard until today. Thank you for your beautiful art.

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I’m so happy you decided to use your one day for my blog omfg !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so so much for this ask, it made me really super happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:do you know the song that is playing when endeavor is fight the winged nomu? ive tried looking for it but I can't seem to find it. thanks if you know it. its fine if you don't. btw you're amazing

Eeep sorry anon this ask is so old omfg I hope you found your answer somewhere else - also because I’m actually the worst person in the world to ask about soundtracks orz so, like, double sorry o

Anon said:A cute kirikamibaku thought to hopefully help cheer you as you wait for your hand to heal again: the three of them going out to a restaurant and Denki trying to subtly convince the other two to order something he wants to try when he can't decide what he wants to eat. Whenever he succeeds, he ends up eating just as much off their plates as his own.

This has actually been cheering me up for days now so thank you !!!!!!! Also because I’ve been thinking about Bakugou giving in but making it super spicy out of spite and honestly that’s the funniest thing hahahaha

Anon said:MATSUHANA🌸🌸🌸🌸

IT’S INDEED A SHIP THAT EXISTS! A GREAT ONE TOO!!

Anon said:I can't stop thinking abt that one anon that sent you "Batsuki Katsuki" and I'm losing my fuckin mind over it oh my god but anyway hello I love ur art I hope you have a good day ( ˘ ³˘)♥

THANK YOU!!!! I hope you’ll have a great month, anon!!!! *O* and also tbh same I randomly remember it and laugh by myself thank you anon for that gem I’m never getting over it haha

Anon said:I live for your bakukirikami art. I never had an ot3 until these boys, and they're just so so good. Do you think any of them ever gets insecure/jealous about the other two's bond in the relationship? I feel like if anyone would it might be Denki? But I dunno, because the way you portray them I like to think that they all actually just love watching each other be cute and bond and stuff.

Yeah that’s how I see them!  You know how, like... when you’re friends with two people and they’re friends with each other and you look at them being silly together and you’re like boy I’m so glad I have both of you in my life and that I can have you both at the same time and that you can be silly and adorable and happy together too - that’s exactly how I portray the bkk, only it’s romantic instead of platonic haha

Anon said:Your art has inspired me to write some BakuKiri / KiriBaku bless!!!! I'm also writing KiriBakuKami as well, thank you so much for the gorgeous art!

THIS IS THE BEST SORT OF ASK!!! THE BEST!!!!!

Anon said:Hello! It's the anon that asked about posting your art online for the first time. Thank you so much for answering my questions! That means a lot to me. I'll definitely take your advice. You made me feel a lot better about posting my stuff online. I'm gonna go ahead and draw the things that make me happy and,, hopefully I'll find people that like it like me!

AAAAHHHHHH I’m happy I could help!!! And I’m sure you will, anon!!!!! I hope you’ll be able to have a great time in whatever community you decide to be part of *O*

Anon said:I was feeling slightly uck but then I was like "you know what would make you feel better" and I just started scrolling through your blog and HONESTLY you are a blessing I feel a lot better and lighter and looking at your blog is literal self care for me now I love you and I hope you have a fantastic day

Sob thank you so much for this ask ;A; aaahhhhhhhh!!!! I’m so happy I can help you like that and this made me feel great back when I first read it (and also now that I’m rereading it, honestly!!!) so thank you for making my days better too, anon!!!!

[sadrien]

goodbyes & hellos

on ao3

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

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

enjoy!

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

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

She likes her second plan the best.

unknown number: Hi!

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

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

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

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

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

unknown number: agents???

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

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

unknown number: book writer??

unknown number: what kinda person needs an agent

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

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

Alya rolls her eyes.

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

unknown number: Curious? About what?

unknown number: way 2 keep avoiding the question

unknown number: ???

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

unknown number: how fancy r they

unknown number: Oh! She’s a model!

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

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

unknown number: Uhh

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

Alya sighs. So close.

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

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

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

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

Ugh.

Sleep definitely isn’t an option anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

“School friends?” her mom asks carefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alya stares down into her cereal bowl.

Time to evacuate to her bedroom.

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

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

unknown number: Dude is fine for me

unknown number: He/him pronouns please

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

unknown number: People don’t always ask

Plan trashed. This is a better plan.

unknown number: she/her for me

unknown number: and no prob man

unknown number: i wasnt gonna assume ur gender

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

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

Whoops.

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

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

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

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

unknown number: so whats up stranger??

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

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

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

unknown number: oo work that sounds fun

unknown number: what do u do???

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

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

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

unknown number: good 2 kno

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

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

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

unknown number: ay it still works as a resume builder

unknown number: Yeah exactly!

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

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

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

unknown number: Oh how old are you?

unknown number: I’m 15

Alya lets out a sigh of relief.

unknown number: ayy same!

unknown number: just ur fav teenage superhero blogger

unknown number: doing nothing with her life

unknown number: You like superheroes?

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

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

unknown number: wonder woman is my g i r l

unknown number: superheroes are just so cool

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

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

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

She doesn’t want to talk about it.

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

stranger: Sorry about that, work ran long

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

unknown number: !!!!

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

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

stranger: Is she your favorite?

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

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

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

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

unknown number: hey stranger whats up

stranger: Just reading, you?

unknown number: making box mac n cheese

stranger: Sounds fun

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

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

stranger: Straight from the pot? Why?

unknown number: because i live life on the edge

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

stranger: You know what? That’s fair

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

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

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

unknown number: hey did i ever mention i was moving

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

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

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

unknown number: yeah

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

stranger: Wow that’s a big move

unknown number: yeah

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

unknown number: not really

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

stranger: I am?

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

stranger: The internet exists

stranger: Phones exist

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

unknown number: yeah i guess

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

stranger: I have no idea how far apart we live

stranger: We’re doing just fine

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: yeah ur right

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New city, new Alya. Or something.

unknown number: hey just wondering

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

unknown number: i have u in here as stranger

stranger: Your contact name?

stranger: Uh awkward but you don’t?

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

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

unknown number: im alya

unknown number: in case u were wondering

stranger: Hi Alya

stranger: I’m Adrien