#crazy how such a small brain can hold so much self loathing uh

[doublxpresso]

『So... This guy's been clingy』

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[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?�� After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ‘it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

[lihikainanea]

Request?/idea, since you’re in that headspace: Bill coming home from a shoot to find tiger drinking her feelings away on the couch.

Anonymous said: I'm in my feelings 'cause I'm dealing with some crap & its making me crave angst. Like Bill & Tiger having a drunken night in & lately Tiger's been feeling insecure so she goes to town on the alcohol. It loosens her up & she starts blurting out her insecurities to Bill. Like how she doesn't understand why he wants to be with her, when he could be with supermodels & how she doesn't want to hold him back. Really silly stuff that her brain thinks about sometimes *sighs*

Edit: I got carried awayyyyy.

I feel so called out right now. Listen man, I think usually tiger has her head on straight, except sometimes...maybe if he’s been away for awhile and really the only thing she’s seen of him is the airbrushed and photoshopped pap pictures and professional shots from whatever it is he’s promoting and where--maybe then sometimes it gets hard for her. Bill is just...god, he’s so beautiful you know? Inside and out, and sometimes tiger gets a little self-conscious about it. About why her. To boot, she’s met all of his ex-girlfriends--Bill has dated models, models, actresses, people who are paid large sums of money to be that beautiful on a constant basis.

It scares the hell out of her.

But I think she’s getting better at reeling it in, right. Sometimes it’s hard when he’s away and all she sees are these perfect photos of him impeccably dressed,  but then she remembers that this is the same dude whose eyes cross a second before he sneezes--every time. This is the same dude who gags when he tries to eat spinach. The same dude who whacks his big ass forehead on everything, who seemingly can’t control his limbs in all of their spectacular length. He’s impeccably dressed until she finds out that the shirt he wore cost $8,000 and that watch on his wrist is a cool $200,000 and then she bursts out laughing because Jesus Christ, his entire world is fucking ridiculous.

But maybe these things start to rear their ugly head when she’s had a lot going on. Bill’s been home and tiger’s been around but she’s also been working on a big project. And she levelled with him when she started it--told him straight up she’d be pulling long hours and really running herself a little thin, but this project had huge repercussions for her and if she knocked it out of the park, then the rewards for her and for her job would be incredible. Bill gets it, he knows what that’s like, and he’s not about to punish her if she needs to do this. So instead he just tries to maintain whatever balance he can for her--ensuring that she takes small breaks if it’s feasible, having a good breakfast waiting for her if she has to work on the weekend, making sure that the food she’s eating and snacking on is healthy and nourishing even if she has to vacuum it down in a 45 second time frame and then get back to work. And when she’s nearly in tears from exhaustion and the hustle of it all, he’s always waiting with a warm cuddle and some encouraging words to get her through.

But tiger also kind of...overdoes it. A lot. And has trouble really dealing with things. So maybe towards the end of the project, Bill comes home one night and she’s pretty tipsy on his couch--which is fine. She had a small win at work, she told him, and wanted to celebrate buuuuut whoops her hand slipped and she just kept pouring glasses. Bill doesn’t think much of it, she’s been working so hard. So he gives her a messy smooch, joins her for a drink, then hauls her into the shower with him for some play time before bed.

Tiger has a pretty hard time getting herself out of bed the next day.

And maybe that night or the next night, Bill is prepping dinner when tiger stumbles home--literally stumbles. She had happy hour drinks with a few colleagues on the project after work, but drinks turned into shots and sorry bud, she overdid it. Bill frowns a little--I mean, it’s Tuesday--but lets it go. He gets her changed into his shirt, tries to get her to eat a little something, but she basically falls asleep at the table.

And as the week goes on it kind of just gets worse. Because tiger is stressed out, she’s working herself thin, and when that happens--all kinds of crazy ideas creep into her brain. And maybe it’s triggered by one of her idiot colleagues, who said something to her over drinks. Sometimes about how handsome her date to the Christmas party was, and then another colleague pipes up that yeah that dude is famous--and then it becomes a whole thing. She’s grilled on how she met him, what he’s like, what they’re uh...doing. Like, are they together? No? Oh, that makes sense. Hey didn’t he date a lingerie model last year?

And then the pictures are pulled up. Of him and his ex-girlfriends.  Lots of them.

Maybe, to her credit, tiger didn’t realize how much it bothered her. How much she archived that in the torment section of her brain, just to be recalled endlessly for the days after. But come Friday--homegirl is basically a fucking mess. Because she’s realizing everything Bill is doing for her--cooking her good meals, offering up lots of back and tummy rubs and head scritchies, always ready with a bear hug, picking up things for around the apartment she always forgets, doing her groceries for her, running all kinds of menial errands that seem like nothing but always take her so much time on the weekend. And it’s all just been...a lot. Her colleagues’ words have been on her mind all week, the stress of the project is making her crack, and come Friday she’s just a mess. So maybe Bill insists on a quiet night in--if she wants to get drunk she can do it plunked on his lap on the couch.

And she does. But then it kind of just....explodes. And I’ll bet it happens right as Bill reaches and squeezes her tummy a bit, gives her a few pats there on her soft parts. It’s something he loves to do and something that normally gets her purring but this time it just kind of shuts her down.

“Don’t,” she snaps, and pushes his hand away. He’s a little taken aback by it because she usually loves when he does that.

“Okay,” he acquiesces, “Sorry, kid. You usually like when I do that.”

“Yeah well did your lingerie model girlfriend like it too?” she mutters under her breath.

“What?” his brow furrows in confusion.

“Your lingerie model girlfriend, Bill,” she isn’t yelling, but her tone is definitely escalating, “Remember her, buddy? In all of her perfectly proportionate glory?”

“Tiger, what are you--”

But she’s almost hysterical now, that quickly, and it’s this disastrous mix of exhaustion, stress, anxiety, self-loathing, anger--god, everything explosive about her is all coming to a head.

“Why, Bill?” she demands, “I guess that’s what everybody wants to know, right? Why me, after her? Why me, after all of them? The actress--the few actresses, actually. The model. The other model. The pro volleyball player.”

She’s staring at him accusingly, hopping up from his lap and pacing the living room. She has her drink in hand, and it’s sloshing messily over the rim of her glass. Bill wants to interrupt her, ask her what the fuck she’s going on about, but in actuality he’s kind of just...stunned into silence.

“Everybody at work is asking me how, asking me why. Why me. With someone like you. Because they didn’t have this, did they?” she lifts her shirt, pokes at the squishy part of her stomach, “They didn’t have boring 9-5 office jobs. They didn’t look like death in the mornings, or hungover, or tired or any of that. They didn’t have 17 different kinds of zit creams in their bathroom, did they? I’ll bet they certainly didn’t have pants they wore only one week a month because they bloated like a puffer fish and nothing else fit. You said it yourself about one of them--god the fuck was her name?”

She stops her rant, finishes half of her glass in one gigantic gulp. Bill’s eyes are huge, scared, and he’s motionless on the couch.

“I can’t remember her fucking name,” tiger waves passively, “But golden pussy? Does that ring a bell?”

Tiger drinks the rest of her wine in another giant gulp, and actually throws the glass against the wall. It shatters and Bill winces except now...now he’s mad. They’ve had this conversation before, and he’s not about to have it again. No fucking way. He can handle her moods, he knows he’s a lot to deal with, he gets that she can be a little on edge about it--but this? Hearing her put herself down so much, think she’s unworthy of him? That makes him angry. With her. Because how dare she.

The glass shatters, and tiger continues her tirade--but Bill stands.

“I didn’t see you for fucking months, Bill,” she says, “All because of this girl and what you called the best pussy you’ve ever had. Why don’t you find her again--her and her entire wardrobe of tiny little negligees, and go a few rounds with her instead. She’s more your type, no?”

And she’s just about to lace into him again--and it’s not HIM she’s mad at, she’s just mad at everything and all of what he embodies in her life--but she doesn’t have a chance. Because Bill is in front of her, and in a flash her back is slammed to the wall and her jaw is squeezed in his hand, his knee pinned between her legs.

“Enough,” he growls, “Enough, tiger.”

It breaks her a little bit--just a tad, but enough that he can get through. She swallows the lump in her throat, the one that was making her voice all shrill and shrieky, she sniffles and tries to keep the tears at bay.

“Look at me.”

“No,” she chokes, but he grabs her chin and roughly tilts it up, “Bill, no.”

But it’s too late, he has a hold of her and his eyes--furious and wide--are burning a hole through hers.

“I’m not doing this with you again,” he seethes, “Tiger, if I wanted her--or anyone else--I’d go out and get her.”

Tiger sniffles, chokes a little, but Bill doesn’t move.

“I want to throw you over my knee and spank your ass raw for this kid, and I would if I thought you were in the right mind,” he threatens through gritted teeth, “But you’re clearly insane. Fucking insane.”

“It’s you,” he jostles her chin a little and she whines, “Get it through your thick fucking skull kid, it’s you.”

And then he lets go--pulls away so suddenly that she crumples to the floor. He’s madder than hell--mad that she still thinks this, still thinks so little of him at the same time, mad that she’s drowning everything she’s feeling in alcohol. She knows better. On all accounts, she knows better. So he takes a step back, watches as she just gives at the knees and oozes to the floor. He takes a deep breath, runs his hand through his hair, walks a few steps to the bar cart. He pulls a glass from it, pouring out a thumb of scotch and knocking it back in one go. He takes a steadying breath in--the sound of her soft whimpers are breaking his heart, but god, she needs to learn. Needs to learn that he’s hers, in every single sense. That he couldn’t be with anyone else if he tried. That it’s her--everything, all of it, is hers. He's hers.

He exhales deeply, walks back and crouches in front of her. Then he does the only thing he can think of--he lurches forward and kisses her. Kisses the hell of out of her. Knocks her head back into the wall with the force of it as he grabs her face, settles his knees between her legs. And he doesn’t ease off when he feels her start to pull back, instead just tightening his hold on her and not letting her get away. She’s crying now, full on tears wetting his hands, and he just doesn’t give a shit. She needs to know. Needs to believe. But the more he kisses her, the more he’s kind of melting--she’s had a rough go of it, he knows that. And every time anything gets rough for her, she kind of faults to this belief that he just...doesn’t want her. That he shouldn’t want her. And he tries to understand, to meet her stress and anxiety with compassion--but sometimes, it’s a lot for him too.

He breaks apart from her finally, out of breath. His cheeks are red, his eyes on fire, and she’s just watching him carefully. He sighs, kneeling down further to kiss granny’s locket around her neck, then to lay his lips firmly on hers again.

“It’s you, tiger,” he whispers, “I don’t know what else I can do to make you believe me. But it’s you.”

She sniffles, nods a little.

“I know you’ve had a rough week. I know you’re tired, stressed, anxious,” he continues, “But god help me, I don’t ever want to hear you say any of that shit ever again. Clear?”

She nods lightly, meeting his eyes shyly.

“Swear it,” he says.

“I swear,” she mumbles.

He picks the locket up from her neck, holding it to her lips. She kisses it briefly, and he leans in to do the same after.

“Bill,” she mumbles, “I’m sor--”

He cuts her off with a gentle hand over her mouth.

“Enough for tonight, kid,” he sighs, “Just enough. Let’s go eat.”

[charterandbarter]

I have seen some TMA/TAZ crossovers floating around (thank you @inkedinserendipity btw). I have never seen a TAZ but uh that eye imagery! If y’all will permit I would like to throw in my own two, angsts cents hahaha man I need sleep.

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOTH PODCASTS AHEAD

Alright, premise time:

What if that Hunger was all the Entities fused together? What if John was replaced by Jon & Jonah?

let’s say tma post canon is a bit like this: jon and martin make their way to the panopticon. jonah magnus is there, the heart of the world like the bastard he is. You have the key who opened the Door, and the bitch who twisted it into the lock. In the ensuing confrontation, jon opens the door again, drags every Entity kicking and screaming into its maw, and locks it for good with him on the other side.

But the thing is, he doesn’t go alone.

What’s an Archive without an Archivist? What use is a living chronicle of fear if there’s no beating, squishy, pitifully human heart to experience it? The Entities are always hungry, and as much as Jon’s performed beautifully before the Change, he’s sorta not the right,,,flavor of fear the Entities need. Getting the sum of human suffering shoved into your head can put a damper on the little terrors, yknow.

(so many jons. Jonny sims why must you do this to me)

ANYWAY! I will insert a readmore later maybe, when it is not 2am in my timezone & my brain allows! Apologies for you mobile people.

SPOILER WARNING FOR TMA AND TAZ: BALANCE

There’s two people who could fill the “squishy fear generation machine” role by the time Jon and Martin make it to the Panopticon. And Martin’s just made friends with the personification of backdoors.

Jon gets to say goodbye before Martin and Helen go. Maybe he has time to let Martin Know all the infinite ways he loves him. It still hurts.

Jon and Jonah fall through the door. The Entities swallow them whole.

it’s not really like Jekyll and Hyde, nor is it like Jon and Daisy trapped in the Buried. It’s just...hatred. Hatred, self-loathing, despair, and the regret of a thousand hopes shattered to stardust. By the time Jon and Jonah go through the door Jon’s compiled quite the Archive, but even all that suffering has a limit. When the stories finally run dry, they turn on themselves, on their only remaining humans left, until the difference between jon and jonah and the fears is nothing but so much churning stomach acid. A feedback loop of misery.

They cannot die. They can’t remember why. There is only yawning dread, and the desperate desire to fill it.

Martin Blackwood‘s plane is safe, of course. The Door will stay shut. But not every world has that luxury.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to get more time.

(how does it feel, Jonah Magnus, to be the Archivist? How does it feel to Know that the suffering of millions, including your own, is all your fault? how does it feel to remember the years of gaslighting, abuse, manipulation, and coercion that you inflicted, just because you were afraid of something as small as Death? how does it feel to hate yourself? how does it feel to commune with your fucking god?)

they tear through worlds and yank at the reins that keep them together, even as the two people holding those reins scream in mutually shared/felt agony. It’s hell, and it goes on forever.

When it comes time to play chess, it is Elias standing before Merle in a crisp, black suit. When Merle asks if the Hunger is his friend, it is Jon’s voice that chuckles before answering. And when They call existence horrible, who’s to say which person is actually talking anymore?

(As Merle dies, They notice the blossoms in Merle’s beard look like chamomile flowers. Something deep inside Them aches. It’s been a long time since They’ve had a cup of tea).

(I’ve only heard Merle Highchurch speak once, but in that one time he said life was about the joy you choose before insulting an elder god to his face. This man has Martin Blackwood/Absolute King™ energy don’t change my mind)

“Kiss my ass, you sanctimonious bastard.” Merle Highchurch says.

“Huh,” For a moment, a shiny burn scar glows through the fire licking Their hand, “I feel sad.”

Merle dies. The ache grows.

(For Them--The Archive, The Archivist, Jon--Merle is an anchor. For Jonah—and he Knows, now, he was Jonah Magnus, former king of the world—Merle’s a warning eons too late.)

I don’t know enough about taz balance to work out the rest of the details, unfortunately. I do know the image of Hunger!Jonah Magnus (no longer bound to Jon after an Arms Outstretched 2.0 moment) getting FUCKED UP by the Tres Horny Boyz delights me.

Really, though, Hunger!Jonah can enjoy his immortality trapped in Lucretia’s barrier-bubble-thing like the blind goldfish he is. But by the deities above and below Jon and Merle sitting on the beach looking out into the sunset is near and dear to my heart.

Perhaps it would be appropriate if Jon dissolved into the waves. There are worse ways to die than with a friend at your side and memories of chamomile tea. I’m sure Jon would think it’s more than he deserves, and yeah TMA is a tragedy so maybe it does fit the bittersweet but cathartic ending we’re expecting in canon.

However, I am a] a sap, and b] of the mind that if you can pick, learning to live well is better than hoping to die well. So here’s an alternative for my fellow saps:

When the dust settles, there’s one more refugee that the Bureau takes in. He’s pretty skinny even for a human, and his scars are weird as fuck, but hey everyone in the world just went through a multiplanar apocalypse so who are they to judge? He’s quick. Quiet. Has a strange accent, and loves to read. Maybe Angus Mcdonald likes him. If so, then he can’t be that bad.

(The moonbase libraries aren’t anything like the Archives. Jon can’t tell if that’s good or bad yet, but he has time to figure it out. It’s...nice, to read something for fun again.)

It takes a long while to grow from a level 1 to a level 17 caster, but Jon has time. He can--not recover, exactly, but settle into himself. Learn how to be, without being of use.

Does Jon become an Aberrant Mind!sorcerer with eyes that still inspire paranoia? Or a Conjuration Wizard that can summon tape recorders? Who the fuck knows. He certainly doesn’t! What a blessing—he doesn’t Know!

Jonathan Sims made it out alive. With enough work, perhaps he won’t regret it.

(Maybe this world has therapists. There’s a bone lady shooting fireworks floating around, surely a therapist won’t call him crazy if he tells them the truth, right?)

tl;dr: let Jon get adopted by the Tres Horny Boyz at the end of Story & Song while Jonah Magnus dissolves into seafoam, please. One day Jon brings Martin to the taz!plane via permanent Gate spell so they can have a kickass honeymoon on the literal moon. Martin brings a dog. The base goes bonkers. Everyone is crying. Let the survivors of the tma!plane LARP their DnD dreams.

[inactivedaddymemeyard]

Crazy

Kevaaron set to Crazy by Gnarls Barkley

Ao3: here

The first time Aaron thought Kevin was a raging storm he wanted to get lost in was on the Foxhole court of all places. Aaron didn’t pretend he hated Exy like his twin. Aaron was competitive and feisty and he’d be damned if Kevin Day was going to make him feel like a slacker. He was self-aware enough to know that he wasn’t as good as Matt, but he was better than Nicky. Being better than his cousin, who only played so he could stay with the twins and go to college, was not an accomplishment. It wasn’t good enough for Aaron and it sure as fuck wasn’t good enough for Kevin “Exy is life” Day.

That day had been specifically bad. Kevin was having a bad day, and that meant longer practice and ruder comments. Everyone ducked their heads and took the anger and frustration Kevin spit at them with every mistake made. They understood. Aaron did too, but enough was enough and Aaron wasn’t having a good day either. He’d woken up to the smell of pancakes and thought he was back in his room in California. He’d bounced out of bed excited to see his mom alert and happy for once before he remembered she was dead. Before he remembered she’d been gone from him long before she’d actually died.

Kevin had been specifically hard on Aaron and Neil, probably because he knew they understood the pain behind his anger. Aaron hated that he’d shared a knowing look with Neil more than he hated Kevin yelling at him. Anger was something Aaron understood. He could speak fluently in misdirected anger. He’d lived and breathed it for years, still breathed it sometimes. Aaron was learning to process his anger and frustration instead of pushing it down until he exploded. It was a slow uphill battle, but his family deserved better than Aaron had given them.

After practice Kevin had demanded that Neil and Andrew continue to practice on the home side, when Aaron made to exit the court Kevin had yelled that Aaron wasn’t allowed to leave until he’d successfully blocked Kevin. Aaron knew what he was capable of and he also knew that Kevin wasn’t going to hold back once everyone had exited the court. Kevin knew Aaron wasn’t good enough to block him when he went all out. Kevin just wanted someone who wouldn’t break under his anger and Aaron wasn’t one to back down from a challenge or from Kevin’s rage.

Kevin charged him a total of tweleve times before Aaron had had enough of failing. The thirteenth time Kevin charged him, Aaron dropped down and swiped Kevin’s legs out from underneath him. As Aaron’s leg swung out his hand shot up and he pushed with all his strength. Kevin hit the ground with a resounding thump.

The only reaction from the other side of the court was from Neil, who reminded Aaron that his defense tactic wasn’t legal before resuming his and Andrew’s practice.

Kevin had to be at least winded and Aaron’s stomach twisted as he regretted the amount of strength he’d put into the shove. He hadn’t expected the giant to drop so easily. Just as Aaron was beginning to worry he’d actually injured his friend Kevin ripped off his helmet and let out a loud, happy laugh. He sat up and flashed a bright, brilliant smile that reverberated through Aaron’s entire being.

“That’ll do I guess.” Was all Kevin said before another soft laugh escaped him.

Aaron had never seen anything so mesmerizing.

I remember when

I remember, I remember when I lost my mind

There was something so pleasant about that place

Even your emotions have an echo in so much space

Nicky was on the phone while leaning against his locker. Aaron wished he could tune out the German that rushed out of his cousin’s mouth. Even when he actively stopped his brain from translating he still subconsciously translated some words. His distaste for his cousin’s relationship used to be rooted in something dark and self-loathing. He had been working with Dr. Dobson this past year on his homophobia and his distaste for public displays of affection on top of the anger management they were already doing. He saw her almost as much as Andrew now. He was reluctant to go at first, but as with most hard to swallow truths Neil had laid everything out in a blunt and slightly rude manner. He no longer thought those hateful thoughts about his cousin and brother’s sexuality, but he still had a strong distaste for the inappropriate jokes and come-ons his cousin couldn’t seem to help himself from saying.

Aaron caught the word “suck” and decided that he could finish putting on his practice gear on the empty court. The court was not empty unfortunately. Neil, Andrew, and Kevin were standing in the middle of the court talking. Aaron did not approach them, he stood there undetected and watched the easy way Neil and Kevin talked to each other. The care-free way Kevin smiled at Andrew when he spoke. The warmth in Kevin’s green green eyes. Aaron watched and he yearned. Aaron had never felt that way. He constantly had to mentally assess his words before he spoke them, had to emotionally and physically keep his distance. Sometimes he felt like a rock in the middle of a river. His family flowed so easily together, their edges merging together to form beautiful, warm water while he was stuck with jagged edges and a hard inside just observing.

Aaron’s stomach fluttered when Kevin finally saw him leaning against the wall and smiled at him. Aaron wasn’t naïve enough to think Kevin’s fondness could last. He knew better. Everyone left. Aaron hurt everyone around him. He could never experience the quiet contentment that showed on Kevin’s face. He could never have Andrew and Neil’s love. He was too cold, too hateful. He didn’t deserve companionship and contentment. But Aaron couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him to his family when Kevin called out to him.

And when you're out there, without care

Yeah I was out of touch

But it wasn't because I didn't know enough

I just knew too much

Aaron was self-aware enough to recognize the feeling in his gut every time he saw Kevin. It was attraction. Aaron had a crush on Kevin fucking Day. His hands were shaking as he dialed Dr. Dobson’s office.

“Aaron? Do you need me?” Betsy’s warm voice floated out of his phone calming him a bit.

“Do you have an open spot today, doc?” Aaron asked, his voice only catching once.

Aaron closed his eyes and chewed on his nails while he listened to her flip through her day planner.

“Aaron, honey are you still there?” Dr. Dobson only used endearments when she knew he needed to hear them.

That’d been an uncomfortable revelation. He hadn’t realized he actually liked endearments until Dan had called him “hun” while congratulating him. He’d explained the warm feeling that had filled his chest to the best of his fumbling, awkward ability to Dr. Dobson and she’d asked him if he was okay with her using them. He hasn’t regretted consenting once since that day.

“Aaron? Sweet pea I can squeeze you in in an hour. Can you wait till then?” Her voice was more calming than he thought it ever could be.

He managed to croak out an affirmative sound before hanging up.

Aaron was startled by his alarm going off. He’d somehow lost an entire hour. The last thing he remembered was hanging up on Dr. Dobson and setting his alarm to go off in an hour so he wouldn’t forget. He was losing his mind.

He’d faced the horror of Drake. He’d faced the fear of imprisonment and the horrors of his brother’s past. He’d faced the guilt of a murderer even when he had no regrets. He’d faced the regrets of years of abusive words and sentiments he could never take back. He’s faced so much that shook him, and yet it’s the battle of his sexuality that has him losing his mind.

He forcibly shook the thoughts and memories away before leaving the dorm.

Dr. Dobson’s office was a slight relief. Aaron found himself comforted by the obsessive organization. He felt calmer inside as his eyes roamed the room taking in the extremely cleaned and organized space. Betsy was smiling warmly at him, used to his need to absorb the calm clean feeling of her room before he filled it with his chaotic emotions. The angry fire within him filling every inch until he was suffocating.

He wasn’t angry today though. He couldn’t describe this feeling. He said as much to her.

“Let’s start from the beginning. When did this feeling start?” Her questions were always accompanied by a gentle smile.

Aaron opened his mouth to tell her about Kevin’s laugh that curled around Aaron’s being and soothed his anger, his fear, his hatred, his unfathomable fire that was always raging. And yet what left his mouth was something more honest and accurate than he’d been ready to admit to her or himself.

“The first time it happened was at Eden’s. Kevin was drunk and smiling like an idiot. We’d just beaten Riko. Neil had yet to tell him what happened after the game. It was the last night for weeks that Kevin smiled.” He zoned out after that, remembering the weeks and weeks of Kevin’s grief for his abuser, and subsequent self-loathing for grieving a monster.

He blinked and the memories faded away, “Uh, anyways. Nicky was bragging about how hot he looked that night and how well he was dancing, and I mumbled “Okay, Narcissus” under my breath. Kevin spit his drink all over Nicky because he was laughing so hard. I hadn’t even realized that was why he was laughing until he placed his hand on my arm and smiled at me.”

The memory came easily to him. It was one of the best nights of his life. Kevin’s shoulders never drooped, his eyes never looked down. He was finally happy and confident and it was a goddamn beautiful sight.

Dr. Dobson’s voice startled him out of the memory, “That was over a year ago. What brought you here, honey?”

He felt the small smile that bloomed on his lips at her warm tone and her endearment. He stopped hiding when he was pleased months ago. Especially to the doc.

“I know what it is. You do too. It used to only happen when he smiled at me or laughed with joy. I can’t get it to go away anymore.  It was an infatuation. I couldn’t stop noticing how pleasing he is to look at. Here lately I day dream about wiping away his tears, about having his arms around me, about his laugh and how it smooths something broken inside me. That is not infatuation. That’s not even a crush. I think I’m in love with Kevin.” The words tumbled out of him in a flash flood.

Bee didn’t react, like the good therapist she was. She just watched him, the eye of his emotional storm. At some point he’d pulled his legs up and began to rock back and forth. He pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose to hide his quivering chin.

“Are you struggling with being in love with Kevin as you said or is this m ore about the question of your sexuality?” Betsy asked once he’d settled somewhat.

“I have always been able to appreciate the beauty in the people around me. Male or female. I have felt the urge to kiss guys before, but I was usually drunk at the time and horny.” Discussing being sexually frustrated was uncomfortable to Aaron who still struggled with talking about any form of physical affection, but he pushed on regardless, “I’ve only had an honest to god crush one other time. Why Kevin this time? Why a man? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Betsy smiled at him and said, “Let’s talk about the fluidity of sexuality, specifically the fluidity in bisexuality."

Does that make me crazy?

Does that make me crazy?

Does that make me crazy?

Possibly

[death2thevirgin]

A Flip of the Switch

Summary: The reader suffers from Bipolar Depression, at a group therapy session she meets a new comer and a bond is formed.

Characters: Reader, Jared

Word Count: ~2,400

Warnings: Bipolar, Depression, Anxiety, thoughts of suicide, cutting, language, self loathing, brief mentions of being taken advantage.

A/N: I wrote this for @letsgetoutalive mental health awareness challenge. I decided to do Bipolar Depression because I was diagnosed with it a year ago and I felt like I could show how a person with this disorder felt on a daily basis.  This is a work of fiction so lets just pretend in this world Gen is happy with someone else.  I mean no disrespect to Jared, Gen or their family! Please read the warnings! I appreciate all feedback.

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

 “Hello everyone, my name is Y/N and I suffer from Bipolar Depression, to be more descriptive I experience rapid cycling. For me rapid cycling means I experience multiple highs and lows a day.” You look over the faces you have come to know over the last few months.  All of them you are familiar with, except one. “That’s doesn’t mean my mood changes minute to minute, though it sure feels like it.” You giggle a little, it’s a tick of yours, when you’re nervous or uncomfortable you giggle.  Every eye in the room is trained on you, if this was a few months ago you wouldn’t have been able to do this.  “Bipolar depression, bipolar disorder in general just feels like your mind is playing tricks on you.  You are sad one minute, hyper the next then giddy, then back to sad, teary. It’s very confusing and scary how your mood can change and change and change.  You feel like your moods are changing so quickly and you don’t know when you will feel “right” again.”

Looking over the crowd you make eye contact with the new attendee, his eyes hold an understanding that you haven’t seen before.  You continue your story with out breaking eye contact. “It feels like you’re riding a never ending rollercoaster with highs and lows of unknown duration.  The depression of knowing you’ll fall, and the happiness when you’re climbing up, the anxiety when you realize you’re going to start falling again any moment.” You can feel the tears start to form. “It is painful, it is tiring and over dramatic at times.  Always fearing the fall when your high and praying for the high when you’re low.” Clearing your throat, you finally break focus on the stranger. “The medication helps.” Bullshit.  “I was doing great; more leveled but last week was terrible. I had a bad day at work, which for most people isn’t a big deal but for me, it was just enough.  The depression came hard and it came fast.  I wanted to lock myself away and I did, I took some sick days and I spent 38 hours in my room.  The funny thing is everything I was dealing with wasn’t so bad, thinking back at least. But in that mind set there is no reasoning with yourself, you just feel like you are worthless, hopeless.” Wondering if you should share the full extent of your pain, the thing you almost did. Tell them how weak you were.  You look over the crowd meeting the stranger’s gaze one more time.  You decide against it, you have come far but you weren’t ready to go all the way, not just yet. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in “But it is a work in progress, I know the medicine can’t do it all.  I know if I want to live a normal life I will have to fight for it, work for it.  Thank you for listening.”

After you finish and make your way back to your seat, the room is filled with light applause and “thank you for sharing”.  The group therapist, Dr. Nazoro, makes his way to the podium and the room quiets down.  Your heart is still pounding, you weren’t one to speak in front of crowds but when you moved to Austin for your job your therapist suggested group therapy and you had to work the program if you wanted results.  “Thank you for sharing your struggles Y/N, ok so we have a new guest today and he would like to share with the group. Everyone please welcome Jared.” 

Jared makes his way up to the podium and that’s when you notice how tall he is, like really tall.  There is something about him that seems familiar but you can’t place it.  Some of the other members start mumbling to each other and you notice some of the other women are acting a little giddy.  It must be because he is so good looking and he is really good looking. “Hi ya’ll my name is Jared” he lets out a slight laugh as most of the women in the room were swooning. “I suffer from anxiety and depression.  Some of you might be familiar with me, because I am an actor which puts me at a disadvantage.” He scans the room, like he is scared to open up.  

From the corner of the room Dr. Nazoro speaks up “It’s ok Jared, this is a safe place… Whatever you say here stays here.” The room nods in agreement. 

“Uh thanks doc” His hands grab the sides of the podium and instantly I think how it would feel to have those hands on my thighs. Shut up brain! “Some people think because I am an actor, I make a decent living and have adoring fans that there is no reason I should be depressed, right? Hell I wonder that too, but as ya’ll know it’s not something circumstances can control.  I have the constant fear that I am not good enough, that I am not doing enough.  Also I see the things that my coworkers have and I am jealous.  They have wives and children; I worry if I will ever find someone that can handle this.” He motions over himself, pausing briefly at his head.  As Jared continues his story you can’t help but feel sorry for him, not because you pitied him but because you knew exactly what he was going through.  To go through that but also be a celebrity had to be hard, having everyone know and judge everything you do. You couldn’t imagine.  

When Jared finishes up every one thanks him for sharing.  As he heads back to his seat he briefly pauses, and instead of going to the seat he was in last he takes the empty one next to you.  Oh shit.  You just focus on your breathing while the rest of the rooms shares their stories. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out.   

When everyone is finished sharing and Dr. Nazoro takes the podium to wrap up the session you gather your belongs, making a mental note of the next meeting.  When he is finished, you stand to leave making your way to the door only to stop when you feel a hand on your shoulder.  You half expected it to be Jane, since you joined the group she has been trying to hang out.  You always put it off because you never really liked having friends, it made it easier to shut people out if they were never there.  

You turn around already concocting an excuse, expecting Jane but only to be met by a broad chest.  The chest of Jared.  You meet his eyes; confusion must be written all over your face. “I’m so sorry to bother you.” His voice is soft and his eyes are friendly. “I just had to talk to you after hearing your story, I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink?” 

At times like this you wish you could just be one of those girls that could say yes to a cute guy offering you a drink. “I’m sorry, I uh- I don’t drink.”

For a moment you could swear a look of sadness crosses his face. “Oh yea- I’m sorry for bothering you.” He turns and starts towards the door.

“Hey Jared.” He turns and faces you hope in his eyes.  “I don’t drink but there is a 24-hour diner about two blocks away that has great coffee and some awesome pancakes.” You didn’t know what it was but you didn’t want to risk not getting to know this man.

Jared laughs “That sounds great.”

The walk to the diner was a quite one, not awkward, if anything it was peaceful.  When the two of you arrive you get a few side glances from some of the other patrons. At first you feel a little self-conscious but then you remember that Jared mentioned he was an actor and the glances were probably directed to him.  You lead him to your favorite back booth and ordered your coffees.

“So what is an actor doing in Austin?” You try to break the ice. 

He takes a sig from his coffee and clears his throat. “I’m from Texas and never really liked the L.A. lifestyle so I decided when I’m not filming I’d like to come somewhere that actually feels like home. How bout you, are you from Texas?” 

“No, I moved here about four months ago for work.”

The conversation stayed light, taking your time to get to know each other. Jared found it incredible that you didn’t know him, not in a cocky way, he was just shocked.  You just told him you didn’t watch much television, you mostly read.  The two of you sat there for hours talking about any and everything except the thing that brought you together. 

After covering everything else in your life you decided to talk about the real reason you assumed he asked you here. “So how long have you’ve been crazy?” 

He almost spat out his coffee. “Well that’s one way to broach the subject.” 

You let out a small laugh “I was never one for subtlety.” 

“Well I have always felt odd, always searching but never able to find my happiness.  Last year while I was up in Vancouver filming I had an anxiety attack and decided to go see a therapist and the rest as they say is history.” He pauses momentarily “What about you?”

You swallow hard, briefly contemplating not sharing. “Well my story is a little more complex. When I was in high school I never fit in and was known to have mood swings but my parents and I just brushed it off to being a moody teenager.  It wasn’t until my first semester in college when the work load got to be a bit much. I tried to fight it but I found myself getting more and more recluse.  I would skip class and stay in bed all day, at my worst I went a week without leaving my dorm. I didn’t eat, I didn’t do anything but sleep.”  You risk looking him in the eyes, half expecting him to run for the hills.  But when your eyes meet there is nothing but understanding and care there. “Then like a flip of a switch one morning I woke up and felt like I could conquer the world.  I called my friends and spent the next few days partying, I drank and did drugs until I blacked out.  I was out of control.  One night on one of my binders a guy took advantage of me and the next morning when I woke up I felt so disgusted with myself that I- I uh…”  You didn’t expect for all this to effect you the way it was but you could feel the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

Jared comes over to your side of the booth puts his arm around you. “You don’t have to finish if you don’t want to, I understand.”

You quickly wipe away the tears and clear your throat. “No… I can do this, plus my therapist says that sharing is a way of healing.  So where was I, right disgusted with myself.  After that night I feel hard and fast.  I felt like I was alone and tainted goods so I tried to kill myself. I went to the top of the highest building on campus and was going to jump.  I would have done it too if the janitor hadn’t stumbled across me.  After that I was forced to take a semester off and my parents forced me to see a therapist and to quote you the rest is history.”

“Wow Y/N, you are really strong to be standing here after all you’ve been through.” 

“Thank you, but I’m not, I promise you.” You can’t help but be drawn to the thoughts of your past week. “I’m really not.”

Jared looks down at you “What are you talking about? You’re still here you are still fighting.”

“Barely.” It comes out as a whisper but he still hears you anyway.  You don’t know what it is about him but you feel safe, a feeling you weren’t too familiar with.  “Last week I was feeling pretty lousy about life and the people I thought were friends have turned their back on me since I don’t drink, you know it doesn’t mix well with my medication… You never realize how much you hate yourself until you are all alone. I couldn’t tell you exactly what it was that set me off but I hit a downward spiral and the other night the darkness was too overwhelming. I just wanted it to stop, I needed it to stop.  I was so ready for it to be over, I had it all planed out.  I was going to take all my pills and just go to sleep. Peacefully. I did it, I took them all and in the moment I felt the world get fuzzy I forced myself to throw it up. I decided to live, I decided to fight.” You look at Jared. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

Clearing his throat, he sweeps the hair that fell in your face away. “Always remember that no matter how useless you feel you’re someone’s reason to smile. I want you to know that when I think of you I will smile.” You feel the smile before it forms. “You are enough flaws and all.”

You and Jared stayed in that booth for the rest of the night talking like old friends until the sun came up.  You exchange stories of youth and things you like, not just the disorders that have come to define you.  Not wanting your time with him to end you fought off a yawn but failed.  “Well I guess it getting kind of late, well early.” Jared laughs “I guess I should let you go.”

“No, I am fine...” you say yawning some more. “Ok maybe I could use some sleep.”

Jared pays the bill and walks you to your car. You exchange numbers with him and he promises to call you later in the day. As you drive home you feel the happiest you’ve felt in a long time.  It isn’t until you get home that you notice you have a missed text.

Putting the phone away you smile for the first time in what feels like forever. You have a genuine smile, you are excited to see what the future has in store.

Forever Taglist: @16wiishes, @notnaturalanahi, @illbeguiltyifyouwantmetobe, @tom-is-in-my-tardis, @ally-miller16, @impala-dreamer, @iwantthedean