#its not my fault ideas come at 3am on a class night!

[torment-deviser]

Way to call me out

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 5

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Summary: Jake tries to fall asleep beside you, Steven is there to adore you in the morning and Marc is still struggling. What happens when Jake breaks his lifelong silence?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, longing, complicated relationship stuff. Angst. References to past abuse. Struggles with addiction/alcoholism and its effects. Probably inaccurate description of addiction. self-worth probs. Violence is mentioned. kissing and touching, implied sex but no smut, nothing explicit or gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot. 

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you. 

What a little shit. 

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.” 

With little convincing, Jake got ready for bed, so he could join you in finally getting some rest. Your 3am alarm went off as he was washing up, so you silenced the one for 4:00.

Conveniently it was your day off, so no other alarm was set. Steven did have one class mid-day, but otherwise, also had the day off.

As Jake slid under the covers, you reached to turn off the bedside lamp. Then you were left in the same position you found yourself in that first night.

The night he held your hand.

Remembering what you'd whispered to him in the dark that night, you softly uttered, "I'm glad you came back to me, Jake."

"I'll always come back to you," he swiftly replied, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you reached for him, resting your hand over his. He immediately slid his fingers through yours, just like the first night, and whispered goodnight.

Jake always came home while you were asleep, and he didn't even front every day. Usually he was only there when Khonshu bid him take to the nighttime alleyways and rooftops, or when Marc and Steven were in an exorbitant amount of danger...

...which was unfortunately more often than either of them (or you) were aware. Marc had a long and colorful past, in which he'd made many enemies - some of them, through no fault of his.

Abused, with an undiagnosed disorder, there were sections of his life missing, and problems he just couldn't control. That, combined with blackouts from drinking and a mighty temper, when provoked, had left a trail of...unfortunate mishaps. And pissed off former associates and enemies.

Time eased many grievances, and Marc had handled several problems on his own, years ago. But even after Jake himself had dispensed with Arthur Harrow, there still lingered fingers of his network. And those weren't the only problems.

Just last week, Jake had disposed of a man who had followed you home from work two nights in a row. He simply watched the first night, choosing restraint, but after he saw the mysterious man following you a little too closely the second night, well - that man did not live to see a third.

At first, Jake wondered how Marc could be so naive. He expected that more from Steven. Well, not naivety, exactly, but a general "chin up" outlook on life that the he radiated.

Steven, although far more direct, outspoken and cautious than most people gave him credit for, was an overall ray of sunshine. In protecting the system, Jake wasn't just protecting his own body, or Marc, who he had known since his youth, he was protecting Steven - the one Marc simply could not do without.

And Jake supposed that's what it all came down to. Marc had settled into a beautiful domesticity with both you and Steven. And maybe that was why Marc couldn't perceive the danger you were all in.

Jake was happy to keep it that way. If Marc was not only safe, but thriving, if Steven was growing and learning, putting his beautiful mind to work, and the two of them had someone they loved? Then Jake had done his job. As long he stayed on top of things, it could all work out.

But the drinking relapse was a problem. And he hadn't counted on you meeting him.

Jake had often wondered how Marc and Steven - for lack of a better word - shared you. He wondered if they ever got jealous. Or if you ever showed any preference for one over the other. That's why he thought it best to stay out of it. Not only did he hope to keep his head down and do his job, he was concerned that getting mixed up with you would only confuse him.

That all went right to hell when he carelessly barreled into your bedroom the other night, having forgotten to have Marc or Steven check in with you earlier, or go to bed beside you. He was equally panicked and wonderfully elated for this mishap.

And now, as your soft breathing slowed, he tried to pretend this night was like every other time he'd slipped through the window to find you asleep.

But it wasn't and he couldn't.

He wished you were still awake. He wished he had more time to hear your voice, to watch the flurry of you around the room, picking up his things, worrying after him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remembered the press of your body against his - the soft satin hugging your shape.

Shit. He could use a cigarette. Or maybe he could beat the hell out of someone.

It was difficult to blow off steam when Marc - a.k.a. their body - couldn't drink and with Marc and Steven engaged to you. Jake tried to respect that. He had the right to his own life, sure, but he just couldn't bring himself to "blow off steam" in that way since you got engaged. You weren't his, but he was faithful to you anyway.

As if sensing his irritation in your sleep, you rolled over, burying your face into his shoulder, snuggling up to him comfortably.

Jake was walking a very fine line between soothed and riled up. If your leg made its way across his thigh, he was going to lose his shit.

Only a few hours later, as the sun struggled to climb into a gray sky, you woke up, tangled in someone. Wondering who might greet you each morning always brought the tiniest smile to your face, but on this morning, just for a moment, you wondered if it was Jake.

Your body stiffened. Did you sleep like this for the past few hours? Did it bother him? You hadn't ever thought of what you might do in the night when Jake got home from his escapades.

As the man beside you continued to breathe evenly, in and out, you decided that three hours of sleep was definitely not enough.

Hours later, you awoke to the domestic sounds of the kitchen. You smelled cooked food and heard the sink's water running, along with the clang of a pot or saucepan.

The sun had made its way through the morning fog, and a sliver of it poured through the crack between the drawn drapes and the window.

After stretching like a very satisfied cat, you freshened up in the bathroom and headed back to your closet to decide what to wear for your day off.

Steven was waiting for you on your bed, perched on the edge.

"Morning, my love," he hummed cheerily, his eyes raking down your body appreciatively. "See you've got on those nice satin pajamas I gave you."

Glancing down at yourself, you softly smiled. "Indeed."

"You're so bloody lovely," he breathed, eyes darkening as he reached out his hand to beckon you back to bed.

Feeling absolutely adored and a little frisky, you skittered over, ready to pounce, when he held up two hands to stop you.

"Careful, darling, I've made you breakfast. Or brunch, rather. It's eleven o'clock," he laughed, nodding toward the tray sitting in the middle of the bed.

Eyes wide, you beamed - but it didn't stop you from climbing onto his lap, just...carefully.

"You are an angel." Locking your arms behind his neck, you dragged your hips forward until you were flush against his body. Rubbing your nose against his, you giggled as he chased after your lips.

"Feeling cheeky this morning, are we?" he tutted after trying and failing to kiss you a few times. "Come here, you." Gently gripping your face in one hand, he opened his mouth hotly over yours. Sucking your lips one at a time, he teased you right back, easing one strong arm around your back. His forearm flexed, holding you firmly as he thrust up against you.

"Steven," you gasped, shifting in his lap to feel him just where you wanted him. Licking into his mouth, you pushed your fingers into his curls, tugging just hard enough for him to jerk deliciously against you again.

The two of you went on that way until he laid back on the bed, pulling you on top of him.

"Steven, Steven, wait--"

Too late. The tray carrying your breakfast spilled all over the bed, some of the jam-covered toast landing on Steven's adorably oversized sleeve.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Scurrying off the bed, you rapidly gathered up the mess, hands bumping into Steven's as he struggled to help you.

"Thank goodness I've left the tea on the table then, yeah?"

You burst out laughing.

You and Steven cleaned up the bed, finished breakfast (at the table) and dressed in cozy clothes for a day off together. Steven decided missing one class wouldn't hurt anything, since he had high marks in every course.

"Thank you for taking care of me this morning, my love," you sighed contentedly, draping your legs across his lap as you relaxed on the couch. "I noticed you pulled the drapes closed so I could sleep in."

"Oh...must've been Marc, I s'ppose," he mused, rubbing up and down your leg. "Wasn't me."

"Oh, okay. But it was you that cleaned up the broken bottle the other morning, right? Before I woke up and made breakfast for Marc?"

Steven's head whipped around so fast. "Sorry, what? Marc broke a bottle? Darling--"

"It wasn't like that, I promise. It was an accident," you soothed. Reaching for his hand, you squeezed it gently, forgetting, in that moment, who could have cleaned up the bottle.

"Everything's a bit odd lately, innit?" He spoke up after a few moments. "Khonshu scaring the life out of Marc like that, deceivin' us both. Bloody stupid pigeon."

"I'm sorry, baby." You felt a shade guilty having talked to Jake twice when Marc and Steven had yet to even meet him.

"Not your fault, love. The old bird's the one to blame. Him and this other mysterious bloke I've got up here." He tapped one finger to his forehead.

"Jake, you mean." You eyed him cautiously. Feeling like you hadn't seen Steven as much for the past few days, you felt the need to confess - catch him up. "I talked to him again last night. Did Marc tell you we'd met?"

Dark eyes cut over to yours - unreadable - a rarity in your warm and open Steven. "Didn't have to. Spoke to him myself."

You gasped a little dramatically. "Y-you talked to Jake? He talked to you?"

"A bit, yeah," Steven sighed. "A bit. Might have told us we were still entangled with Khonshu so Marc didn't have to wake up in an alley like that. It's no bloody wonder he's had a rough go of it."

Gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you inched a little closer to him on the couch. "So...you're angry with him then. With Jake."

Shaking his head, Steven's gaze dropped. "He's got his own life I s'ppose. Rather used to the way things are with Marc, is all."

"Must be hard, sweetheart," you sweetly sympathized, wishing you could fix any and everything for these men you loved.

"Not your fault," he softly repeated, reaching up to caress your cheek. "He does seem a bit taken with you, though."

Oh god.

"R-really," you squeaked. "Jake said that?"

"Not exactly, but...I gathered," Steven mused, his fingers trailing down over your throat to rest along your collarbone, which he traced carefully. "Made me wonder if you'd worn that lovely satin for him, if I'm honest."

You gulped. "Well...not for him, exactly. I did want to talk to him in a little more than Marc's t-shirt. I want answers too."

The corner of his mouth turned slightly upward, reminding you of Jake. "You're a vision in anything, darling - bare legs and t-shirt, or black satin. I certainly understand why he fancies you."

You skin heated up as you tried to decide how to respond.

And just like Jake the previous night, Steven seemed to enjoy you flustered like this. Giving you a devilish smile, he trailed his fingers down your arm.

"Steven...you're my fiancé," you finally managed, a little breathless. "Jake and I have only spoken twice. It will take a little more than crawling in the window at night to get to know one another."

Nodding, Steven asked, "But you would...like to get to know him?"

"Of course I would," you instantly answered, as if it were obvious. "Of course I want to know someone in our lives like this - part of you and Marc, and...honestly, someone who has you all out at night doing god knows what."

Reaching for your fiancé, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Besides, I doubt Jake said he fancies me," you chuckled. "Doesn't really sound like him."

"Ohhh, it doesn't, does it?" Steven laughed out. Studying you closely, he added, "Would you like to know what he really said? 'Bout you?"

Spellbound, you nodded as Steven leaned in close. "I'm not going to tell you. That's between you two. But I will tell you what I think, if you care to know."

Climbing across his lap, you touched your forehead to his. "As long as it's something good, baby."

"Oh it is," he breathed against your mouth.

He never told you. But you did finish what you'd started in the bedroom.

After all the recent late night activities, plus a vigorous couple of rounds in bed with Steven, your sated bodies drifted off to sleep...

...which inevitably led to you waking up from your nap, wondering who would be greeting you. The flat was quiet and you were alone.

Feeling a little more relaxed and rested than you had felt in days, you found the clothes Steven had yanked off your body just a couple hours before. You didn't want to waste one more second of your shared day off by sleeping.

After checking the bathroom and the living room, you finally found a note in the kitchen from Marc.

On the roof. - M

Finding some shoes and Marc's tan hoodie, you grabbed your phone, realizing Marc had sent you the same message via text, just in case.

A few minutes later, you made your way out to enjoy the chilly but decently sunny day. A rare treat indeed.

"Hey there," you sweetly greeted, walking up beside Marc, purposely bumping your shoulder against his. "Where's your jacket? It's cold."

He glanced over at you, smirking. "You're wearing the one I like. Looks better on you anyway."

Even though Marc was a little taller than you were, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders as if it might warm him up.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, already a bit cheered up by your presence.

"I'm protecting you. Like I said, it's cold."

Glancing down at you, he shook his head, amused, while his heart flared with adoration. You were always taking care of him in one way or another. He could never deserve you.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, folding you close. "There, now I'm warm."

"Good," you returned, nuzzling into his neck.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, rubbing up and down your back lovingly.

From what little you knew of Jake, you were fairly certain that Marc was the quietest of his alters. It was nice sometimes, to just be together in contented stillness.

But unlike Jake, there was no one in the world you knew better than Marc. And he was neither content, nor prone to remain still for much longer. Itching to prod about what troubled him, you waited longer still. You had learned to wait him out and he had learned to trust you...confide in you.

"I, uh..." he cleared his throat, breaking the silence after a while. "I came up here because I was thinking about...having a drink."

Oh.

Releasing you, as you knew he would after an admission like that, he folded his well defined arms over his chest. "Sorry." He stared out over the city, wondering what you would think of him - of how he kept letting you down.

Matching his pose, you gave him just enough space to confess, while keeping close enough to ground him.

"Sorry for what?"

Huffing out an irritable sigh, he frowned. "You know what. Sorry for wanting to. For...fucking everything up, for letting you down."

"I see," you softly returned. "Is that all?"

Turning his head, he started at you. "Is that not enough? You need a longer list?"

"No," you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the cityscape. "Just asking if there's anything else you're trying to punish yourself for today."

"There's a never-ending, extremely long fucking list," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Where do I even begin?"

Turning your body to face him, you waited a moment for him to calm down. "How about we start with what brought you up here today? Did something happen? Did you talk to Steven? Or Jake? Or maybe Addiction is just being the annoying bitch that Addiction is?"

You could see that he was already relieved to have you facing him, engaging with him. Marc could fight with the empty, thin air if he wanted to, because the person he fought hardest with was himself.

"I did...talk to Jake," he finally confessed, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He, uh...he actually apologized...for what happened in the alley, with Khonshu."

"Okay," you slowly nodded, your heart rate doubling at the thought of Marc and Jake interacting. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Like an idiot," he huffed, pushing a hand through his hair. "I should have known that Khonshu would never leave us alone." His hands landed on his hips - a trademark Marc-is-annoyed stance. "I should have known it wasn't safe, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" you hesitantly questioned. Surely he didn't mean he was unsafe for you, or Jake was... You started to worry for just a moment, that he would try to do one of those stupid 'you're safer without me' speeches that superheroes were always doing in films.

Like hell. Khonshu could shove his bony beak right up his bony ass. He was not fucking with your engagement, or your life.

Seeing your distress, Marc reached for your shoulders. "Jake saved your life last week," he explained. "Someone was following you home from work."

"He...what?" You gasped. "Who? Jake told you this?"

"Don't know who," Marc replied, his jaw clenching in fury at the thought of anyone even noticing you, let alone trying to stalk you. And to think he had no idea - no inkling that you were in danger... it was unbearable. "Doesn't matter. He's gone now. I just can't believe I let that happen to you and I didn't even realize..."

Releasing you, he paced a few steps away, and back again. Back and forth, punishing himself. For not perceiving that danger still followed him around - followed you. For not being the one to save you. For not recognizing someone else was in his mind, in their body. For being the absolute most useless and pointless of his alters. For all these things compiling and making him want to drown it all at the bottom of a bottle. For being a worthless alcoholic. For being like her...

Marc was the walking embodiment of the phrase, 'that escalated quickly...'

You knew it was bad once he stopped pacing and dug the heels of his hands into his forehead. Steven would probably be joining you momentarily. Or maybe Jake.

"Marc?" You softly called, gently reaching for his wrists to stop him hitting himself in the head. You didn't pull or try to halt his motion, you simply allowed your fingers to circle his wrists. As soon as he realized that his banging motion was jerking your arms too, he stopped, allowing you to hold onto his wrists, rubbing your thumbs carefully over his skin.

"There you are," you soothed, granting him the most gentle smile and pulling his hands down to his chest. "I think you kept this conversation going without me. Probably started telling yourself a whole lot of bullshit...does that sound about right?"

Sometimes you would undercut the most dramatic of his meltdowns with deceptively gentle sarcasm. It always seemed to disarm Marc - your comments showed him your tenderheartedness rather than your slight teasing feeling like mockery. You truly had a gift for it.

You didn't wait for his verbal answer. His silence was compliance. You kept hold of his wrists, there against his chest, and tried to fill in the blanks.

"I'm guessing you're blaming yourself for not knowing everything that's ever going to happen, for not predicting the future, for not knowing every corner of your mind, and for being afflicted with an addiction. Am I close?"

His jaw clenched, this time in anguish, rather than fury.

"You don't...you don't have to do this," he choked, avoiding your gaze. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"Like I hell I shouldn't," you shot back. "I marrying you in 52 days. And on that day, I'm going to vow to love you for better or for worse, in sickness and in health - you know the rest. This is exactly what I should be doing."

"I'm sorry," he brokenly whispered. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate..."

"What are you like, sweetheart? How is it that you think you should be?"

Marc shook his head, his eyebrows pinched with worry. "I-I don't even have a job or go to school, or always make you smile or feel better, like Steven. I can't even protect you, like Jake. I have nothing to give you. I can't think of one reason to even--"

"Don't you dare," you warned. "Don't you dare compare yourself to them - they are a part of you." Releasing a shaky sigh, you realized then how bad things must have gotten for Marc before he ever even picked up a bottle.

This was deeper than one encounter with Khonshu. He was calling his whole self-worth into question, comparing himself to Steven and now Jake. He hadn't failed you. Maybe you had failed him.

"Look, I don't claim to be any kind of an expert on addiction or DID or marriage," you explained to him. "I only know what I know. When Jake saved my life, you were there. You are a part of him. And-and Steven - his amazing mind is your mind too. This addiction you have - they all have it! I understand you are distinct people, and I respect that. And I don't pretend to know what you're going through or what it feels like to be you, but baby..."

Squeezing his hands, you peered up at him pleadingly. "You were my first love. I knew you first. I loved you first. You are the reason I'm here. And Steven. And Jake. We all love you, Marc and we need you. We're with you. Who else is going to help Steven remember to do his homework? Or make my coffee the way I like it? Or fix the sink every time it leaks?

"Who is going to make me feel like the most special person in the world, make me laugh, make me the best toast for breakfast--"

"Uh, that would be Steven," Marc admitted, his voice softening. "Steven does those things for you."

Thinking back through what you'd just said, you nodded. "True. He does make better toast than you but his coffee-making skills are shit."

Marc cracked a smile. Just a tiny one.

"And you do make me laugh. And make me feel special. Why do you think Steven is the only one who does that?"

"Because...I don't know, because he's so good at it," Marc shrugged, calming down a little more. Your candor was somehow soothing because he never had to wonder where he stood with you.

"Baby, where do you think he gets that from?" You stared at him pointedly, waiting for him to get it. "How many years did you try to protect him, to keep him safe?"

"Yeah, but I fucked that up too," he argued. "He was pissed when he found out about me, remember I told you that."

"Only a first," you reminded him. "But since then, you're literally his best friend. You keep him grounded. And I know it's true for Jake too. You're his moral center."

"Really," Marc scoffed, "then he's fucked."

You rolled your eyes. "You are. From what little I know of Jake, he doesn't seem all that bothered by violence... by doing whatever he feels he needs to do, for you or for Khonshu. Don't you see?"

Marc shook his head.

"When you have to use violence, you hate it, because it was used on you. You've agonized over the lives you've taken, because you value life. What is more morally centered than that?"

Finally releasing your hands, Marc rubbed his face with a long sigh. "I told myself I wasn't going to do this to you. That I was just going to go to a meeting and talk to you after. But...but I thought if I left to go to a meeting that I might stop by the store and there would be a drink, you know, just waiting..."

His hands found their way back to his hips. "What do I do?" He gazed at you as if everything in the world hanged on your answer.

"This," you said confidently. "You take a beat...take a breath, talk to me. Exactly this, baby. Everything you need to be doing, you are doing right now: admitting you're tempted to drink, stopping and thinking first, going to meetings..."

You counted his victories off on your fingers, "Using your support systems, being honest about your feelings, even the really fucking hard ones. This is exactly what you do, Marc. You are literally my hero."

Completely taken aback, his lip trembled. "W-what? No...I-I'm not."

Folding your arms over your chest, you narrowed your eyes, waiting a beat.

"You're not? Shit. I must have been thinking of someone else then." Cracking a grin, you inched toward him slowly. "You're so damn stubborn, Marc Spector, but you have met your match. Game fucking on."

Reaching for his wrists, still planted defiantly on his hips, you pulled his hands into yours. "Now, is there anything I can do to make you feel better today? I could walk you to your meeting? Or fix you some matzah ball soup? I've been practicinggg," you sang, a little playfully.

Sometimes acting like a dork really cheered up your grumpy fiancé. Maybe it would work.

"Please, god no," Marc laughed out, "it was more like matzah meal sludge. I think I could have built a sandcastle with it."

Giggling, you released his hands, sliding your arms around his torso. "Okay, fair enough. Maybe we'll do something else then."

"Yeah, like what?" He shot back, some of the tension finally draining out of his tense body as he wrapped his arms around your back.

"How about a massage?" You suggested. "You love it when I play with your hair. You could lie down on my lap, relax..."

"You're just trying to get my head between your legs, aren't you?" Marc chuckled, narrowing his eyes.

You smiled innocently up at him. "Always."

"Come on, it's freezing out here," he laughed, guiding you back toward the doorway with his arm around your shoulders.

"Still feel like a drink?" You asked, your candor never ceasing to amaze him.

"Only if you make me eat your matzah ball soup," he teased.

Just him joking was a good thing. And he probably would have you walk him to a meeting later in the day. One step at a time.

"You're really doing it, you know? I'm really proud of you," you sweetly affirmed as the two of you made your way back down to your flat.

"Thank you," Marc evenly answered, after a long silence. He hadn't really been sure how to reply until the two of you were back inside your living room. "For everything."

"One day at a time, my love. Today, you're doing it. You're doing everything right."

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face 

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

[iamanartichoke]

I wrote a Thing. It’s extremely long. I’d prefer it not be reblogged; I wrote this for my own catharsis and would prefer it not be circulated, bc of Reasons. 

I changed my mind, okay to reblog. <3 

Under a cut for (extreme, did I mention?) length. 

So I got about 12 minutes of sleep last night, as you do, and around 3am or so I found myself - out of sheer curiosity - going down a meta hole of Ragnarok discourse, trying to figure out where this "satisfying redemption arc" for Loki happened. (I mean, there's a lot of things I would like to figure out, but I started there.) Because I could. 

Basically I was looking for meta that went into detail about how Loki was redeemed in a satisfactory way. The ‘satisfactory’  is an important word here bc there is a redemption arc in the film, in that Loki starts off the film as an antagonist (kinda) to Thor and he ends the film as an ally to Thor, standing at Thor's side. In that sense, yes, there's a redemption arc. I didn't find much (and I had no idea how much people just despise Ragnarok "antis" [I really dislike that word] but that's another topic [that I don't particularly want to get into, tbh]) but I did find some. I read what I could find, and I read it open-mindedly, and overall I came away feeling like, okay, there are some valid points being made here and I can kinda see where they're coming from.

But it was a bit (a lot) like -- flat. Idk. The best comparison I can think of is that it’s like if a literature class read, I don't know, The Yellow Wallpaper for an assignment, and some of the students came away from it feeling like it was a creepy story about a woman slowly driving herself insane, and the other students came away from it incensed at the oppression and infantilization of women in the late 19th century -

- and neither side is wrong, but the former is a very surface-level reading and the latter isn't (bc it stems from looking at why she drives herself insane, why she was prescribed 'rest' in the first place, the context of what women could and couldn't do back then, etc; basically, a bit more work has to go into it). 

[Note: I am not disparaging the quality of The Yellow Wallpaper. At all. It’s just the first relatively well-known story that popped into my head.]

In this sense, I can see the argument for Loki's redemption arc, but I don't think it's a very good argument. Not invalid, but not great.

I mean, for example, I think the most consistent argument I found variations of re: Loki's redemption is that Ragnarok shows Loki finally taking responsibility for his bad behaviour and misdeeds. This includes recognizing that his actions were fueled from a place of self-hatred and a desire to self-destruct in addition to bringing destruction on others. That he probably feels awkward and regretful of these things and doesn't know how to act around Thor, but he figures it out by the end, and decides that returning to Asgard is the best way to show that he's ready to make amends. His act of bringing the Statesman to Asgard is an apology. He allies himself with Thor and ends up in a better place, both narratively (united with Thor once again) and mentally (having taken responsibility and made amends for his past).

And setting aside that he had already made amends by sacrificing his life in TDW (and also setting aside that the argument is made that Loki redeems himself in IW by sacrificing himself to Thanos but if that's the case, wouldn't that imply that he hadn't achieved redemption in Ragnarok or else there would be no need to achieve it again in IW? Or, if you think he did achieve redemption in Ragnarok, then what the fuck did he give his life in IW for? What was his motivation there, and why did the narrative not make it clearer? I digress.) 

- setting aside those two factors, I think this is a very fair argument. Loki is fueled by self-hatred, and he does want to self-destruct, and he does want to inflict that pain on others as well (particularly Thor). No lies detected here. 

However, I also need to know where that self-hatred and desire for destruction (toward himself and others) comes from and for that, we need to go back to Thor 1.

Thor 1. 

Loki starts Thor 1 out as "a clenched fist with hair," to borrow a quote from the Haunting of Hill House (that I tucked away in my mental box of Lovely Things bc it says so much so very simply). He's very used to bottling everything up, pushing it down; he slinks around behind the scenes, pulling the strings to this plot or that. He's "always been one for mischief," but the narrative implies that the coronation incident is the first time Loki's done anything truly terrible. And it all immediately pretty much goes to shit, so Loki spends the rest of the movie frantically juggling all these moving pieces while trying to seem as if he's got it all under control, every step of the way. That's how I view his actions. 

But I always come back to that quote where Kenneth Branaugh tells Tom, of the scene in the vault, "This is where the thin steel rod that's been holding your mind together snaps." In other words this is where Loki discovering he's Jotun is just one thing too many. He can't take it. But though the rod snaps, his descent isn't a nosedive. It's a tumble. As the story progresses, the clenched fist starts to loosen, the muscles are flexed in unfamiliar ways (that feel kinda good, after being stiff for so long), and it culminates with the hand opening completely and shaking itself out. All of that repression, that self-hatred, that rage and jealousy just explodes so that, by the time the bifrost scene happens, Loki's already hit bottom. It's not just about proving his worthiness to Odin. He wants to hurt Thor, too; he, essentially, throws a tantrum. (That's right, I said tantrum.) 

(Note: The word 'tantrum’ has negative connotations bc we normally equate it with a toddler stamping their feet and screaming in the aisle when their parent won't buy them the toy they want. But in itself, the word tantrum isn't infantalizing. It's an "emotional outburst, an uncontrolled explosion of anger and frustration" [paraphrasing from dictionary.com]. That's exactly what happens here [and why Tom called Loki's actions a massive tantrum, but people took that to mean Tom agreed it was childish whereas I doubt Tom meant it that way]).

He's been pushed past his limit, and he does bad things. He does really shitty things. He hurts Thor, he hurts his family. I'm pretty sure he knows this all along so this isn't, like, some revelation further down the line that "hey, those things I did were probably kinda bad." He got the memo already. 

Ragnarok 

Fast forward to Ragnarok, and we're introduced to a version of Loki who's had 4ish years to sit with everything that's happened. To sit with it and not do much else. The rawness of it has faded, and now it seems as though it's just become a thing, like when you move through life aware of your childhood traumas and have more or less just accepted them (and you probably share a lot of really funny depression memes on Facebook, which is kinda the equivalent of Loki's play, but that's probably just me). 

Loki has, more or less, chilled out. He seems more bored than anything else; he's been masquerading as Odin for longer than he ever planned or intended to, so he's more or less ended up hanging out, letting Asgard mind its own business, and entertaining himself with silly plays. This is the version that starts out the movie as an antagonist to Thor - a version that is, arguably, in a much different place [and is a much milder threat] than the version who originally did those Bad Things. 

And of course Thor is still mad at him, and of course they're going to butt heads, because that's what they do (and Thor's grievances are genuine, I’ll add, bc it's not really his fault he assumed Loki faked his death, nor can he be blamed for being pissed about Odin).

One argument framed this version of Loki as being a person who is facing the awkwardness of coming out of a dark place, which is fair. If we're going to frame his actions in Thor 1 as a tantrum, then Ragnarok would be the part where the toddler has been taken home, possibly has had some lunch and a juice box, and is now watching cartoons. They're over the tantrum, and would probably feel pretty silly about it if they weren't, yknow, toddlers. They probably can't remember why they even wanted that toy so badly. If they're a little older and self-aware, they might even be embarrassed for having melted down.

Like the word tantrum, this feeling isn't a thing limited to toddlers. I know I've had a few epic meltdowns as a grown ass adult, and I know I always feel deeply embarrassed afterwards - like, want to crawl into a hole and die. I've said things I can't take back. Adolescents and teenagers throw tantrums, mentally ill people throw tantrums, adults throw tantrums (I mean, my god, look at all the videos of Karens having screaming meltdowns - screaming! - over having to wear masks in order to shop at stores). Humans throw tantrums. And usually, after the feelings have been let out and the tantrum has passed, humans feel pretty regretful and awkward and embarrassed about whatever they did and said in the midst of their meltdown. 

I get all of that and agree it's valid and that Loki probably feels it. By the time Ragnarok happens, Loki's had some time to reflect and think hmm, yeah, probably could've handled that one a lot better. The argument further goes that in order to navigate this awkward period, Loki must come to terms with what he's done, acknowledge that some things can't be unsaid or undone, and begin to make amends. Supposedly, some people feel that Loki becomes a better person because he does "own" everything he did wrong and, even though he feels like a jackass (paraphrasing), he sets that aside to become a become a better person by choosing to help Thor and Asgard at the end. 

Thus, the overall arc goes like this. Loki, Thor's jealous little brother, 

throws a tantrum of epic proportions bc Reasons 

continues to act badly and make things even worse (Avengers) 

has to face consequences for his actions (prison sentence) 

ends up with a stretch of time in which he's free to contemplate and chill out 

feels embarrassed and awkward about how he's behaved

sees an opportunity to make up for it and decides to take it 

helps Thor, saves the day, and ends the film a better person. 

Redemption achieved.

None of this is wrong. The film supports it. It's a fair interpretation. But it leaves. out. so. much.

To circle all the way back around Loki being "a clenched fist with hair," and his actions stemming from his self-hatred, you have to ask - how did he get that way? He didn't end up with all this self-hatred on accident. Generally, one isn't born despising themselves, it's a learned behavior. (I realize chemical imbalances are a thing, obviously, as I have Mental Shit myself, but for argument's sake I'm assuming that's not the case with Loki [at this point in time]). 

Where did Loki learn it? From his family, from his surroundings, from his culture. We see examples of these microaggressions in the first, like, twenty minutes of the movie - a guard openly laughs at Loki's magic after Thor makes a joke about it (the tone of the conversation implies that Thor "jokes" like this often) and though Loki does the snake thing, the guard faces no real consequences. Thor doesn't acknowledge that anything went amiss. Not much later, on their way to Jotunheim, Loki's barely gotten two words out to Heimdall before Thor cuts him off, steps in front of him, and takes charge. Loki doesn't look annoyed at this; he looks resigned. 

Then, for absolutely no reason at all, Volstagg decides to make a jab at Loki ("silver tongue turned to lead?") just because he can. The ease with which he makes this comment and the way that no one else blinks an eye at it implies that this isn't out of the norm. And Loki doesn't react, not really. In the deleted version, he delivers a particularly nasty comeback but he delivers it under his breath, without intending Volstagg to hear it. In the final version, he simply says nothing, though his expression can be read as hurt or stung. Either way, the audience sees an example of Loki being walked all over by Thor and his friends and bottling up his reactions instead of standing up for himself. 

Microaggressions matter. They are mentally and emotionally damaging. They hurt. The implication that this is not unusual treatment for Loki means that Loki's probably gone through this for most of his life. It's like the equivalent of being, I don't know, twenty two and you're the friend who has to walk behind the others when the sidewalk isn't wide enough, and it's been that way since the first day of kindergarten. At this point, you're used to it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less when the jabs come seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason other than to make you feel bad.

(I personally identify a lot with this bc I experienced passive bullying in social settings for years. I was the 'doesn't fit on the sidewalk' friend; I hung around with people who'd pretend to be my friend and would be more or less nice to my face, but would laugh at me and make fun of me behind my back for whatever reasons. And often there'd be the random jabs at me, things that would come out of nowhere to smack me in the face, followed by the fake laugh and “just kidding!" so that I couldn't even get upset without being made to feel like I was overreacting and couldn't take a joke. I'd deal with this socially, particularly in middle school when girls are their most vicious, and then I'd go home and, because I was the only girl with a lot of brothers and because boys are mean and because I am who I am, the dynamic was that my brothers would just endlessly roast me to my face and sometimes it was a "just kidding!" thing, where I was the only one not laughing. But that’s beside the point; my point is that microaggressions, passive bullying, and consistent invalidation are harmful and that shit stays with you into adulthood.) 

So, yes, Loki needs to be held responsible for his misdeeds, and it's valid to say that he recognizes those misdeeds and wants to make amends. I have never disagreed with that. But the problem with this interpretation is that it lets every single other character who contributed to Loki's self-hatred and mental breakdown (let's just call a spade a spade here, that's what it was; he was broken psychologically) get off scot-free.

First of all,

Odin is not held accountable for instilling in the princes a mentality of Asgard first, everyone is beneath us but Jotuns are benath us the most, they are literal monsters. He is not held accountable for pitting his sons against one another (even if it was unintentional, he still did it) with "you were both born to be kings but only one of you can rule" being the general tone of their upbringing. He's not held accountable for his favoritism toward Thor.

Frigga is not held accountable for deferring to Odin both in supporting the above things and in keeping the truth of Loki's origins a secret while doing nothing to discourage the "monsters" narrative. 

Thor is not held accountable for his own tendency of taking Loki for granted (he assumes Loki will come to Jotunheim, he oversteps Loki constantly, “know your place,” etc.. He grants his implicit permission for Loki to be treated as the sidewalk friend in their “group,” a group which is loyal to and takes their cues from Thor as Thor continues to do nothing in his brother's defense).

[Note: Wanting Thor to be held accountable for things he's done wrong isn't vilifying him. Acknowledging that Thor benefited from Odin's favoritism and his own place as Crown Prince doesn't negate Thor also being raised in an abusive environment. I don't think anyone's saying that or, if they have, it's not something I agree with.]

Furthermore, 

Odin is not held accountable for his cruelty in disowning Loki (”your birthright was to die” is never going to be forgotten, speaking of people saying things that can't be unsaid or taken back) and in sentencing Loki to a severe prison sentence (life! only bc Frigga wouldn't let him execute Loki) for crimes that are no worse than what Odin himself has committed (around which the entire plot of Ragnarok revolves! Colonialism (and subjugation) is wrong is, like, a major theme [that people rush to praise, even] here). 

Thor is also never held accountable for not trying harder to understand what made Loki snap (fair enough, he didn't have a ton of time after returning from Earth, but certainly he had lots of time to sit around reflecting while Loki was being tortured by Thanos for a year). He knows Loki is "not himself" and "beyond reason" and accepts it at face value; he questions it once and then lets it go. He's fine with assuming Loki's just lost his mind, and isn't that a shame. (I realize I'm simplifying Thor's emotions but my point is that Thor could've tried harder to figure out that Loki was being influenced and/or not acting completely autonomously.) 

Thor is also never held accountable for - if not facing consequences for his own slaughter of Jotuns - then at least addressing why Loki can't kill an entire race even though Thor tried to do that, like, two days ago. (Granted, it’s difficult to understand how Thor got from Point A ("let's finish them together, Father!") to Point B (this is wrong!), but that failing belongs to Thor 1 (which is not, by the way, a perfect movie).

The interpretation that Loki is fully redeemed because he took responsibility for his actions, returned to Asgard, and allied himself with Thor to save their people is all well and good - but, why is Loki the only one here who has to take responsibility for their actions? 

What about all the loose threads in his story? 

For example, how did he get from: 

Point A (believing himself a literal monster, having a complete mental breakdown, getting tortured and further traumatized after that, etc) 

to 

Point B (Hey, yknow what would be fun? I'm going to write and direct a play about how I heroically died to save Thor and Jane, and I'll go ahead and have Odin say he accepts me and has always loved me. I'm going to do these things because Odin never said this in real life and instead of acknowledging my sacrifice, Thor left my body in the dirt, so someone has to validate what I've done right and that someone might as well be me. And hey, while I'm at it, I'm going to control the narrative on revealing myself as Jotun to Asgard, instead of living in fear of it being found out, and I'm going to do it in a way that they have to sympathize with me and revere me in death, bc they never bothered to do so when I was alive. And Matt Damon should play me, also.) 

to 

Point C (Yeah, I guess I feel kinda awkward about that whole tantrum thing, also I should help Thor and support him being king.)

? 

The answers to these questions are handwaved and the audience takes that to mean they don't matter. Furthermore, framing Loki's redemption around an act of service (more or less) to Thor makes Loki's redemption about Thor. Does Loki make this decision for the sake of Thor and of Asgard, or does he make it for himself? It's not super clear to me, and I think arguments can be made for both. Which, again, is fine, but - whatever.

If we're going to collectively agree, as a fandom, that Loki is complex, that he's morally gray, that he's worthy of redemption and therefore arguably a good person who's done bad things, then why is it asking too much to have it acknowledged that Thor (also a good person who's done bad things) played a part in Loki's downfall and has shit to apologize for, too? Bc one can only assume the reason is that you're taking a very gray concept and making it black and white by saying Loki has to apologize and make amends because he is the villain, and Thor doesn't because he is the hero (and it's his movie). And it's lazy.

This is where the crux of the issue lands. There's more than one valid interpretation, yes. And no two people (or groups of people, or whatever) are going to consume and therefore interpret or analyze the source material in the same way. I think I saw a post recently about how studies have been done on this, in fact. But, there is a lot going on under the surface that tends to get overlooked when exploring Loki's redemption arc in Ragnarok, as far as I can see, and that’s why I don’t consider it satisfactory. 

[I did read similar arguments regarding other issues that are often debated ('debated'), like Loki's magic and/or being underpowered, whether or not Loki's betrayal of Thor was the natural outcome of the situation on Sakaar or not, whether Thor actually gets closure with Odin [if he does, how does he reconcile the father he's idolized with the imperialistic conqueror he's discovered? Why doesn't he hold Odin responsible for covering up Hela's existence and the threat of her return, especially as he knew he was nearing the end of his life? Is Thor's "I'm not as strong as you" meant to imply that he acknowledges those shortcomings of Odin's and that he's okay with them, or that he's just overlooking them, or is he not okay with them but didn't have the chance to get into it bc he was in the middle of battle? T'Challa confronted his father on his wrongdoings in Black Panther; could Thor not have had at least one line that was confrontational enough to establish where he stands as opposed to this gray middle? Can someone explain to me how any of this equates to Thor gaining closure? Please?) but obviously I'm not going to go into all of them (well, I tried not to), bc this mammoth post has gone on long enough (I may not even post this tbh)]

- but my overall point to this entire thing is that when I say I'm critical of Ragnarok bc it's flawed, that Loki's arc was neither complete nor satisfactory, that many things went unaddressed and, due to all of these things, I do not think Ragnarok is a very good movie nor a very cohesive movie, this is where I'm coming from. I have not seen anything to change my mind to the contrary. 

But I am not saying that anyone satisfied with it is wrong, or shouldn't have the interpretation that they do. I'm not vilifying Thor in order to lift Loki up, just acknowledging that Thor is arguably just as flawed as Loki without the stigma of being Designated Villain. I think a lot of these arguments get overlooked or dismissed, and that's fine, but it doesn't make the people who do engage with them hateful, or bitter, or trying to excuse Loki's crimes, or feeling like redemption means that Loki's crimes should be erased rather than reconciled. 

And sure, yes, perhaps we are expecting too much and exploring all of these themes (or wanting them explored) means that somehow we think it should be Loki's movie (we don't). Loki is a supporting character, but he's still a character. And the movie itself doesn't have to delve into all these things - no one's saying that. (At least, I'm not.) We just want acknowledgement, from the narrative, that this stuff was an Issue. 

This could have been accomplished with - 

Some dialogue closer to the novelization (and original script), like Thor and Loki both acknowledging the harm they've done one another and their kingdom due to their Feels.

 A single line of Thor confronting Odin, or even asking "Why?" 

A narrative acknowledgement that Odin did both Thor and Loki dirty (”I love you, my sons” isn't an apology, because it doesn't acknowledge either that there's been wrong-doing or express regret for having done the wrong in the first place). 

A little bit more nuance in the way Loki treats his own past (ie, instead of flippantly telling the story of his suicide attempt, maybe - if it must be flippant - talk about getting blasted in the face with Hawkeye's arrow or sailing through to Svartalfheim [And in that moment, I sang ta-daaaa!]) or whatever. 

I recognize that wanting full, in-depth exploration on all of these issues regarding a supporting character is probably too much to ask or expect - but, I also feel like, if you're going to be professionally writing a narrative (or rewriting/improvising, as it were), it's not too much to ask that a little more care be taken in regards to all of the layers that have contributed to said supporting character's downfall and subsequent redemption arc. I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to want. 

And maybe if there had been more nuance and continuity in how these things were portrayed on screen (ie, if TW had actually done as good a job as his stans think he did), the fandom wouldn't have divided and conquered itself over which "version" of the same character is more valid and whether or not the film did its best to close out a trilogy (not start a new one), to the point where everyone in this fandom space makes navigating it feel like walking through a minefield. 

But, I mean 

(Again, please don’t reblog if possible.) 

Edit: Okay to reblog. <3 

[holy-hyuck]

Our Maybes

It’s 3am, you can’t sleep, and Yeonjun can’t get you out of his head.

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing

link to my masterlist -> please be aware that this content is 100% mine and you are not to distribute it or take it without my consent

let me know what you think! 😊

Your eyes shut close, and open a minute after - it feels like that, at least, but the time on your phone tells you it’s been two hours. It doesn’t matter anyway because by seven you’ll feel tired again, and your 8am class won’t let you get any sleep.

It takes a minute but eventually, your eyes adjust to the dark and you stare at your door a little longer. Perhaps you could will yourself back to sleep.

Nah, who are you kidding?

Throwing the covers off, you put on your slippers and the bright orange hoodie haphazardly thrown on the floor the night before. As your feet drag across the carpeted floor, you notice how silent the house in. You can hear everything; your own thoughts, for once, the ticking of the clock, a dog barking outside, Changbin’s snoring, and...glass breaking? Someone cursing?

Who on earth is up at half-past three in the morning? Oh, right. You.

The stairs creak ever so slightly as you descent down them, praying you won’t trip in the darkness, but the floor and the walls are brighter than usual. Then, you notice the light coming from the kitchen and some shuffling, the crispiness of glass breaking underneath a heavy object.

“Fuck.” You hear someone mutter and take a peek into the room. It’s Yeonjun, still in yesterday’s clothes, hitting the plastic edge of the dustpan against the bin, emptying it out. You’re grateful you put on slippers - Yeonjun can’t sweep to save his life.

You watch him chuck the brush and the dustpan into the cupboard below the sink and close it with a slam, startling himself. You let out a giggle and he turns around, only spotting you now, leaning your hand against the wall.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He scratches the back of his neck and smiles at you sheepishly.

You shake your head. “You didn’t.” You walk up to the kitchen island and hop on the marble. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No. I have a test to study for. You too?”

“Something like that,” you answer, then thank him with a nod for the glass of water he slides your way. You watch him take a sip before staring off into space.

You’ve always found Yeonjun attractive, ever since the first day of university when he helped you carry your things into your room, his hair a dark brown colour. A month later, it was silver, and before Easter, a navy blue. Now, he’s sporting a platinum blond colour, but it doesn’t really matter if he has the rainbow on his head or if he’s completely bald - his visuals are out of this world either way.

Your drop your gaze before he has a chance to catch you staring, and play with the strings on your pyjama shorts. You wrap them around your finger, then release, over and over until Yeonjun coughs and you will yourself to look up at him. He gives you a smile you can’t help but reciprocate; he has that effect on you sometimes.

“Hey, put on some shoes. I’m gonna take you somewhere,” he tells you, dropping the glass into the sink rather harshly and running to get his coat and shoes on.

“What?” You’re perplexed but don’t have time to protest, for Yeonjun is nowhere around to hear it. With a sigh, you hop off the kitchen island and do as you’re told, debating whether you should put on some pants but disregarding the idea when Yeonjun’s bright smile meets your expression, and all you can think is how much you want to make him smile like that again.

“Let’s go.” He grabs your hand, grabs his keys, and locks the door of your shared apartment behind him.

The air outside is still, and again, you can hear everything. You can feel everything. The city is asleep, but everything is so alive as you’re trudging through the small streets of your equally small town, side by side.

“I thought you had a test to study for,” you finally say.

Yeonjun releases a ghost of a laugh. It’s warm, like the air around you. “It’s only ten minutes from our house. I promise you’ll like it. Maybe it’ll help you sleep better.”

You nod, though he can’t see you because he’s looking from left to right to cross the street, grabbing your hand and making you follow him as he crosses the road. You don’t know why he looked both ways, or why he wants you to be safe - the city’s sleeping, much like you should be. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.

“Here.”

“Where is here?”

You look around, and all you see are rows of houses, lined up like dominoes. You’re standing in front of a tall gate, the blue paint old and chipping away with every harsh wind and icy winter, and it’s not long, you think, before it falls apart.

“Come on.” You watch as he climbs up the fence, the swaying of the metal making your heart skip a beat as it moves one with his body, and then he jumps off at the other end, leaving you amazed at his agility.

“I’ll catch you if you need me to.”

He motions for you to do the same, and though with hesitation, you grip the metal, surprised by its warmth, and follow his actions. He doesn’t catch you when you jump off to join him; he doesn’t have to, for you do so with ease, but you want him to. Maybe you just want an excuse for him to hold you.

You follow him up some creaky stairs, ending up on a roof of an abandoned warehouse. It’s almost entirely flat, aside from the raised edges preventing your fall, and a gradual slope in the middle, its top flat as well. It’s big enough to room one, perhaps two people.

Yeonjun’s quick to hop on the top, his long legs helping him up the slope. It’s a bizzare structure for a roof, but perhaps that’s why Yeonjun likes it so much; he can sit here and watch every sunset and sunrise, colours seeping into each other like on an abstract painting.

You don’t follow right away, opting to lean back and watch the city, but he reaches out with his leg and nudges you with it, forcing you to go up and join him. He holds your hand until you’re safely next to him, and you’re quick to jerk it away, afraid he’ll notice the sweat coating your palm. It’s his fault for making you so nervous.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He grabs your attention with his words and you nod in agreement. “You should come up here at sunset. It’s even better.”

Again, you nod and stare forward. The city shines, mimicking the stars in the sky, and it’s funny how the first thing you think of is light pollution.

You like the town the way it is; small, quiet, homely, but your heart races thinking of the wildness you could experience just the next town over, a city of life and bright lights, where the night never ends, and the sun never comes up.

Yeonjun coughs again and you wonder if he has a cold, looking at him quizzically.

“So...” He gives you a smile.

“So...” you repeat, furrowing your brows. Why is he acting so weird? “Don’t you have an exam to study for? What are we actually doing here, Yeonjun?”

“Yeah, about that...” He scratches the back of his neck, letting his legs hang over the edge, bringing his hands together. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“We’re talking.”

Your reply makes a frown appear on his face but you laugh it off, and so does he, only after a pause.

“Go on then.”

You look ahead, closing your eyes as you enjoy the gentle breeze of summer on your skin. This is what content feels like. The hot and humid weather gets to you sometimes but you love summer nights; there’s something in them that brings you back to when you were ten, careless and free, like the wind that blows in all four directions without caring what or who it stumbles upon, unable to be controlled.

Suddenly, you feel extra warmth on the skin of your left hand and look to Yeonjun’s hand holding yours. Before you have time to question the action, he speaks up.

“Listen, I-I like you. I’ve honestly liked you since I met you; you were so cute struggling with all those boxes, and then I told you should have taken a suitcase instead, like the others. You remember what you said? That you’re not like the others-”

“-that apparently I’m stupider. Yeah.” You laugh, recalling the memory. Really, you procrastinated buying a suitcase large enough to fit all your years of unhealthy hoarding, and forgot your family were taking theirs on vacation, and you couldn’t be late for your first day at university, now, could you?

“Yeah.” He sighs. “And I was so glad I decided to live on campus. And then Yeri found out about my crush and told me to confess, and I swear I was so ready until your crush on Hyunjae came out and-”

“Ugh.” You make a face and Yeonjun burst out laughing. “Don’t remind me. How could I ever have a crush on someone so self-absorbed?”

“Beats me.” His words make you laugh. After a pause, and much debating inside his head, he speaks up again, “Summer came and I thought I could let go of this crush, but we both just had to decide to come back for the summer.”

He turns you towards him, and you don’t have it in you to push away as he grabs both your hands into his, holding them in front of his chest. “I never let go of you. And I don’t really want to. Maybe I’m crazy, and this will never work out, not in a million years. But I’m also the guy who ignores all the signs of balding, like the clumps of hair after I shower, and continues dying his here like my life depends on it, and I’m still going to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

“Woah there,” you vomit out the words, an action fueled by your twisting stomach, the butterflies’ wings tangled up, unable to escape. “Shouldn’t you ask me on a date first?”

Yeonjun furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side. “Would you say yes?”

You shrug in response, teasing the boy. “I don’t know. If you make it worth my time.”

“You little-” He lunges at you, his hands slipping underneath your jumper, fingers dancing on your skin. The tickling causes your body to jerk backwards, yelling for the heavens to hear, until you’re almost falling off the edge and let out a shriek.

Yeonjun has quick reflexes, though, and catches you, holding you so close to him you feel the rise and fall of his chest. He looks from your eyes to your lips, to his hands holding your shoulders.

“Don’t tell me you planned this,” you breathe out, mixing your breath with his in the stillness of the air.

He shrugs in response, and you expect a small smile on his face, but there’s nothing, not even a trace; his expression is unreadable.

You sigh, detaching yourself from him, then shifting so it’s comfortable for you to lay your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat - erratic and uneven - as it’s thumping against your ear, and your hands clutch his shirt. His are holding you close like you’re still slipping over the edge, and his lips sigh against your hair.

“We should probably go,” you mumble, “before the sun rises and everyone notices we’re missing.”

“Let them notice. I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”

You smile. “Then neither am I.”

[chapter-61]

small things

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 15: Floral

AO3, POST-CARRY ON

It starts with a yellow tulip.

When Simon wakes up on the couch for the fifth day in a row, he doesn’t feel like getting up. What’s the point? He doesn’t have anything planned (as usual) and Baz has classes. Penny is gone for two weeks to visit Agatha, so he’s on his own.

He supposes he could visit his therapist, but he’s been ignoring their appointments for a while and it’d be awkward.

After a moment of consideration, he decides staying on the couch is the better option. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table but stops when he notices the flower. Simon doesn’t know much about flowers but he recognizes the tulip. It’s yellow and wrapped in plastic.

He frowns at it and sits up. Unless he started sleepwalking last night, he’s sure he didn’t put the flower there. Which only leaves Baz. But Baz had left yesterday evening after dinner, when Simon didn’t feel up to conversation, or anything else. He had felt bad, but the feeling was overshadowed by his discomfort of being in someone else’s company, so he didn’t say anything as Baz kissed him goodbye on the cheek.

Simon is certain Baz didn’t bring the flower with him, though, because he surely would’ve noticed. And Baz isn’t a flower person, right? He’s never said as much, anyway.

Maybe someone broke in, but why would they leave a flower? It doesn’t seem like anything was stolen either, so it’s very unlikely.

Which brings him back to Baz. He could’ve come back at night while Simon was sleeping to put the flower there, but he can’t figure out why.

“I suppose.” His voice is still a bit croaky from sleep and disuse.  

Wrestling with his wings, he manages to stand up. Dizziness overcomes him and he almost falls back down, but he keeps upright. Mostly. He keeps his eyes on the flower.

When he’s steadier after a few seconds, he finally picks it up and lifts it to his nose. It smells nice. His mouth corners curl up and the smile on his face surprises him. It feels foreign, but he’s still holding the flower, so the smile stays.

Simon puts the flower down delicately and finds he has the energy to walk to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. Along the way, he picks up his mobile phone to send Baz a text.

To: Baz (9:14) thanks for the flower

He replies almost instantly.

From: Baz (9:15) You’re welcome. It’s a tulip.

To: Baz (9:15) i know

From: Baz (9:21) Alright.

After breakfast, Simon puts the tulip in an empty water bottle, and mostly forgets about it.

Until a few days later, when he finds another flower in the living room. The last few nights he always made it to his bed, an achievement he’s weirdly proud of.

This time, he doesn’t recognize the flower sort. He picks it up and examines it closely. It’s really pretty. The flower is mostly bright purple (magenta, he can hear Penny’s voice in his head), with multiple layers of petals. The magenta petals have yellow ends and circle the middle part of the flower (the stigma?), which is the same bright yellow.

A quick google search doesn’t seem to bring it up, so he opens his texts instead.

To: Baz (9:20) what type is this?

From: Baz (9:23) It’s a zinnia, part of the Heliantheae tribe. It’s related to the sunflower.

To: Baz (9:23) it’s very pretty

From: Baz (9:24) Try to keep it in a place with a lot of sunlight.

To: Baz (9:24) ok, thanks

He finds another empty water bottle on the counter, fills it with a bit of water and puts the flower in. It’s really nice and bright. He puts it on a window sill in the living room, where the sunlight hits it perfectly. It lights up the room, and Simon feels slightly warmer inside.

A week later, Simon wakes up later than usual. Baz stayed the evening, and they watched a movie together. He doesn’t really remember what movie it was, he was mostly watching Baz. His feet were in Baz’ lap and Baz had been gently massaging them. Simon couldn’t keep his attention on the movie after that.

When he exits his room and passes the window sill, he smiles at the flowers. He had his suspicions before, but now he’s sure Baz put a spell on them, because they still look as fresh as the day he found them. They still smell amazing as well, and the apartment hasn’t smelled this nice in a long time.

He’s so busy looking at the flowers while he passes, he almost misses the new flower on the coffee table. Simon can feel his smile grow when he walks towards it.

He picks it up and is pleased that he recognizes it.

To: Baz (10:45) a daffodil?

From: Baz (10:47) I’m impressed. Yes, it’s a daffodil. A jonquil, to be more exact. Narcissus jonquilla.

To: Baz (10:47) :D

He puts away his mobile phone and adds the flower to his collection. Then, he has an idea.

To: Penny (10:53) hey do u still have that flower book somewhere??

From: Penny (11:07) Good morning to you, too. You’re lucky we just arrived in New York or you’d be waking me up at 3am. Why do you need it?

To: Penny (11:07) i’ll tell u when u get back

From: Penny (11:08) Fine, it should be on a shelf in my room. Don’t break it, please.

He scoffs and goes to Penny’s room. Between the magic books and cooking books, there’s the one he’s looking for. The Language Of Flowers, by Chlorissa Anthis.

Simon tries to contain his curiosity as he takes the book with him to the couch. He opens the heavy book to the index, and looks for the first flower.

Tulips

There are many interpretations for tulips, depending on their color. Generally, tulips represent love. A red tulip stands for strong, true love, while purple symbolizes royalty. White tulips represent worthiness or forgiveness, and pink tulips can stand for elegance or gratitude. The most complex meaning has to belong to the yellow tulip. They used to represent hopelessness or unrequited love, but are now more commonly used as an expression for cheerfulness and sunshine. More than that, they’re used to compliment someone’s sunshine-like smile or beautiful eyes.

Oh. Well. That brings a sappy smile to his face.

To: Baz (11:17) you think my eyes are beautiful?

From: Baz (11:18) I have no idea what you’re talking about.

To: Baz (11:18) suuuuure

He looks over at the purple flower now. A zinnia, was it?

To: Baz (11:19) what color is the zinnia?

From: Baz (11:21) Are you turning blind? Do you need me to pick up a pair of glasses?

To: Baz (11:21) ha ha. indulge me

From: Baz (11:25) It’s mostly magenta, but mixed with yellow towards the ends.

Simon quickly turns to the index again and looks for the zinnia.

Zinnia

The zinnia is a tough flower and stands for endurance in many forms. It varies from standing by a loved one through a difficult time to a joyous endurance of daily remembrance. If the zinnia is red, it symbolizes the steadfastness of the heart and family, like a beating heart. A white zinnia stands for goodness, and magenta for lasting affection, even through harder circumstances. Lastly, a zinnia can have mixed colors, which means the gifter misses their absent friend/lover and wants them to know they’re still thinking about them.

That’s very different from the yellow tulip. He starts to doubt whether Baz actually meant something with the type of flower, or if he just picked the prettiest. But then he can’t help thinking of the night before, when Baz felt so far away while he was sitting right next to him on the couch. Simon’s always missing Baz, even when he’s nearby. Maybe the same goes for Baz. He’s never thought of it like that. And he supposes the distance between them could be seen as an absence of the other person.

If the book is to be believed, Baz wants to let Simon know that there’s still lasting affection from his side. Which he knows, of course, because why else would Baz still visit almost every day? On the other hand, he had started to doubt Baz’ feelings for him lately, with the giant hole between them nowadays. That’s Simon’s fault, though. He’s the one that’s been acting weird and distant and he wouldn’t fault Baz for wanting to put an end to it. Which brings him back to the significance of the mixed colours.

He takes a deep breath and looks for the daffodil family now.

Jonquil

A jonquil is a very romantic flower, but it can also be a symbol of sorrow. Legend says that this flower originates from the Greek myth of Persephone. In its purest form, the jonquil stands for desire and sympathy. Desire to have love and affection returned. A single jonquil commonly means ‘love me, please’. In the absence of reciprocated feelings, it is clear that the flower can represent sorrow as well.

These flowers are getting more and more depressing, Simon thinks. Does Baz not know how much Simon loves him?

He looks back on his behaviour towards Baz over the last few months, and is suddenly appalled. They’ve barely had long conversations, most of them happening over the phones, and Baz had always been the one to initiate it. Baz had also always been the one to initiate touches, and he took Simon on trips around the city without Simon asking.

Has he really been that detached from the love of his life?

As is often the case when he doesn’t know the answer to a question, he texts Penny.

To: Penny (11:35) am i a bad boyfriend? be honest

From: Penny (11:38) I wouldn’t say you’re a bad boyfriend to Baz, but you haven’t really been in a happy headspace in a while. I think Baz misses you, though, and you miss him. What is this all about? I’m coming home in 2 days, you two better be okay!

Instead of responding to Penny, he sends a text to Baz.

To: Baz (11:39) hey are u coming over tonight?

From: Baz (11:40) I was planning on it. Do you not want me to come?

To: Baz (11:40) nonono please come. i’ll make the food, you don’t have to bring anything

From: Baz (11:41) Are you sure, Simon? I don’t mind cooking.

To: Baz (11:41) very sure, it’ll work out dw

From: Baz (11:42) Alright. Now I’m curious. See you tonight.

Hope blooms in his chest. At least he hasn’t totally messed everything up with Baz yet. He checks the time and puts Penny’s book back. He should have plenty of time to make something edible.

A few minutes later, he’s out of the apartment and on his way to the grocery store.

On the way back home, he stops by a flower shop.

The doorbell rings a bit after 6, and Simon rolls his eyes. He saunters over to the door and opens it to a waiting Baz. Simon is stricken by how good he looks, and it’s not just the smile on his face.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” Baz replies, with that beautiful smile still present.

Simon shakes himself and opens the door wider to let Baz in. “I know you have a key.”

“I do. I wanted you to open the door, though. Get some exercise in.”

Simon snorts as he walks back to the kitchen, suddenly feeling awkward. Is he supposed to greet Baz with a kiss? He wants to, and they’ve been together for over a year, so it should be okay. But he’s not sure how to do it. It’s been a while since he initiated contact between them.

Baz seems to know what’s on his mind, because when he turns back around, his boyfriend is right in front of him. Damn vampire.

“It looks so much cleaner here. Lighter. And something smells delicious.”

Before Simon can answer, Baz closes the distance between them and gives him a soft kiss. “Good evening, love.”

Simon can’t help the blush spreading over his face. “Hi.”

Baz chuckles and goes to lean against the kitchen counter. “You look better, too.”

“I feel better,” he replies honestly.

They smile at each other. Then, Simon says, “Thanks for the flowers.”

Now it’s Baz turn to flush. “Did you find out their meanings?”

“Wait here,” Simon says instead of answering, and he walks over to his room with a slight jump in his step.

He comes back with a single red rose. Baz looks at it with wide eyes.

“You know the meaning of this one?” Simon asks him.

“Of course I do,” Baz replies quietly.

Simon hands over the rose and pulls Baz to him, with his arms around Baz’ neck. “I love you,” he whispers, before he kisses him with all the power he has.

A single red rose signifies pure, fulfilled love. It’s an expression to convey the purest and deepest affection. I love you.

[andystanberg]

bags under my eyes and coffee in my hands

Word Count: 3 000

Genre: fluff, coffee shop au (yeah, yeah, cliche, I know), alternate universe

Warnings: swearing, insomnia

Summary/Prompt:

Phil works at a 24/7 Starbucks and Dan just can’t get any sleep.

A/N Fic idea from my friend @danielleworld. (The coffee shop au only one person asked for hah.)

Dan grips his coffee tight and stares blankly at the white wall in front of him. He doesn’t seem to notice (or perhaps he just doesn’t care) that it’s 3am and the cup is turning his hands bright red. In fact, it seems like he isn’t aware of anything around him at all.

Dan Howell is a nobody with a fuck-it-all attitude and an inability to sleep. The only things about him worth noting are the heavy bags under his eyes and his constant appearances at the one Starbucks that’s near him and is open all night (morning). On first glance, most people saw nothing more than another moody teenager. Dan thinks those people are probably right.

“Sir, are you okay?” A kind voice asks. Dan jumps slightly in his chair and spins around.

He squints up at the employee. The stranger is tall and directly in front of the artificial lights, making it hard to focus on any other details. The brightness of it all makes Dan’s head throb more than his ‘not sleeping in the early morning’ already did. If anything, this guy coming over to ask him if he’s okay makes Dan feel a billion times worse. Dan wants to tell this stranger to fuck right off, or that he’s as fine as being here, of all places, makes him. He wants to say “no, I’m extremely shitty, thanks for asking”, or at the very least insult the guy.

He grunts noncommittally in reply.

“I’m Phil, by the way,” Phil smiles. This Phil guy is far too cheery for Dan’s tastes, he decides.

“I see.” Dan stares pointedly at the nametag on Phil’s apron.

Phil looks down and coughs awkwardly, smile dropping slightly. Good. Dan hopes he’ll go away now. Phil doesn’t.

Instead, Phil plonks himself down on the empty seat across from him, causing Dan to scowl. The reason he always sits in the corner booth is so nobody interacts with him – not that any sane person would come into Starbucks at this hour for the sole purpose of finding someone to talk to. At least, he doesn’t think people did that. It’d be sad if people did that, he concedes.

It’s only then that Dan sees him fully. Something about Phil’s blue eyes, vampire-pale skin and shockingly jet-black hair seems familiar to him. Dan can’t quite place his finger on it.

“You seem interesting and I have no customers at this time of night – or morning, I guess, I’m never sure how to class it-“ Dan raises an eyebrow. Phil stops rambling. “Uh, what I meant was, do you mind if we chat for a while? I’m bored out of my mind and my legs were starting to hurt from standing up behind that counter for so long.”

Dan sighs. “First of all, I assure you, I’m not interesting. Second of all, do whatever you want with your life. If that means talking to a stranger that could potentially be a murderer at 3am, go ahead.” Seriously, any sane person would’ve walked away by now. Not Phil, apparently.

In fact, Phil doesn’t look even slightly disturbed, he just laughs. Dan eyes him warily. Maybe he should be the one that leaves before he gets murdered by this Starbucks employee with questionable sanity. And yes, Dan is most certainly thinking about that and not at all about how cute Phil is when he laughs. He isn’t thinking about the way Phil’s tongue pokes out and his eyes screw up and that nothing about it was fake. Everything about Phil seems genuine. (Except for the hair, Dan notes silently. That shade of midnight black can’t be natural.)

As a person who lies to himself and others daily, it was kind of unnerving. Maybe if Dan ignores him, he’ll go away. Phil doesn’t.

“No offence, but you don’t exactly look like a person who has enough, uh, strength to murder someone,” Phil comments, still grinning stupidly. Dan feels like he should take offence, but that smile throws him off.

Despite himself, Dan smiles back. “Hey, I’ll have you know I could totally murder you! It doesn’t take strength to do it, I could just,” he looks around for inspiration, “throw that cactus into your face a few hundred times.”

Phil follows his gaze. “Oh, you mean Susan?”

“What? Who?” Dan’s eyebrows furrow and he looks around. No one else is here.            

“The cactus! Its name is Susan. I was the one who brought it in, actually. All the other employees just kind of went along with it. You may have noticed, but this place is weird compared to standard Starbucks.”

“Well, this place hired you.” When Phil says nothing in reply, Dan wonders if he went too far. Of course he went too far, he just met the guy! Phil probably thinks he’s weird now. Dan cringes, and stares at the tiled floor, wishing for it to open up into a dark abyss. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Phil shakes his head and chuckles. “I know I’m weird, don’t worry. I can’t believe you picked up on it so quickly, though! For most people, it takes at least an hour of talking before they mention it.”

Dan relaxes. “An hour? Does that mean I hold the record of how-quickly-a-person-can-find-out-that-Phil’s-weird? Wow, the dream is alive.” Dan pretends to swoon.

“And you said you weren’t interesting!” Phil exclaims.

It’s then that Dan realises he hadn’t been following his not-talking plan and stiffens. “Yeah, well…” He shrugs. He picks up his coffee absentmindedly and tries to take a sip only to realise that there’s nothing left. Dan wonders briefly when he finished it and awkwardly sets it back down. He then frowns at it, as if it were its own fault for being empty.

“I could get you another cup, if you want,” Phil suggests. Right, he was still there. “On the house!”

“You don’t have to,” Dan mumbles. “I don’t need it.” He very much needs it. Dan’s head is constantly plagued by migraines that keep him up, thus causing more of them from lack of sleep. Coffee helps sometimes, but really it was more of a habit than anything. The caffeine made him forget about his burning eyes that refused to close and his throbbing head that wanted to shut down, but didn’t exactly help the sleep thing, which made everything worse.

He wishes he could telepathically tell Phil all this, but without, you know, all the details. Maybe just give him a mental kick to make him get Dan coffee without Phil knowing that Dan caused the mental kick, whatever that meant. Great, he’s so tired that now even his own thoughts are making no sense.

“You look like you need it, so I’m going to get some anyway.” Phil leaves Dan to ponder over whether or not he actually does have psychic powers. If he does, maybe he could refine them enough to control his own goddamn insomnia enough to let him sleep.

Phil comes back and the first thing Dan notices is that he isn’t holding any coffee. “I forgot to ask, what do you want?”

Dan groans and lets his head drop onto the table. It is surprisingly cool. “Phil, you’re the worst employee ever.” He pauses. “Also a caramel macchiato, please.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great employee,” Phil protests. Suddenly he switches to a more business-like tone. “And what name will I take that under, oh costumer from the heavens?”

“Shut up and get me my coffee,” Dan growls.

“Okay, Mr. Shut Up and Get Me My Coffee.” Phil leaves again, just before Dan could chuck something at him. The brunette places his empty coffee cup back onto the table.

A few minutes later, Phil calls out, “Caramel macchiato, for Shut Up and Get Me My Coffee!”

Dan waits for him to walk over. When he doesn’t, Dan lifts his head and looks around for Phil. He’s standing behind the counter holding Dan’s coffee and it doesn’t look like he’s going to move anytime soon. “Phil,” Dan whines, “please don’t make me walk over there.”

“I can’t,” Phil claims, with a hint of a smile. “In this fine establishment,” Dan scoffs, but Phil continues, even louder as if to prove a point, “customers have to actually get up to receive their drinks. Since I’m such a model employee, I must follow procedure.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Dan deadpans. “Who knew you knew such big words? Now drop the act and get over here.”

“I didn’t know you missed me that much.” Phil starts walking anyway.

“Says you. You’re the one actually putting the effort into coming over.” As soon as Dan says this, Phil stops where he is and sits down. He’s still too far away for Dan to snatch his coffee. Or kick him. He hasn’t decided yet. “You little shit,” he sighs half-heartedly and makes a grabby motion with his hands.

When Phil doesn’t move again, Dan sighs more dramatically this time and makes a show of heaving himself upwards and trudging towards Phil’s smug, stupid face.

“Wow, slow down there or you might look a little desperate,” Phil jokes. Dan shoves him lightly once he’s in range.

“May I please have my coffee now?” Dan rolls his eyes as he says this, but throws in a pout for good measure.

“Anything for a cute boy,” Phil winks, before standing up handing Dan his coffee. Dan shoves him again, harder this time (after he has safely retrieved his coffee, of course; Dan’s not an idiot). They walk back over to their (when did it become theirs, he wonders) table.

Dan takes a sip and smiles into his cup. “Thanks,” he murmurs. Despite the caffeine, he feels more relaxed than he has in ages. Dan has to fight to keep his eyes from drooping. As he did that, Phil tilts his head and gazes curiously at this boy.

“You never did answer my question,” he pipes up finally.

Dan looks up and frowns. “Which one?”

Phil considers this for a moment. “All of them,” he decides. “Firstly, what is your name?”

Dan blinks in surprise. He hasn’t told him? He goes over their conversation in his head and realises that no, he never did. “Dan. My name is Dan.” When Phil doesn’t say anything, Dan figures that’s his cue to continue. He rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes while he does. “You’ve probably guessed, but my full name is Daniel. I prefer Dan, though. It just sounds much less like I’m getting in trouble for something.”

“Okay, Danny,” Phil sings out. Dan whacks him and Phil laughs. “Secondly-“ he pauses. Phil’s eyes rake over Dan’s small frame that makes him look like you could knock him over with a feather and decides not to ask that question again.

Dan, however, is curious. The kind of curious that follows someone asking if they can ask you something. Meaning, extremely nerve-wracking. He figures that probably isn’t actually curiosity so much as a want to torture himself by agonising over what they were going to say. “Secondly?” He prompts quietly.

Phil shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

Something about his tone makes Dan drop it. “So, I see you like Pokémon,” he says out of the blue, trying to steer their talk back to topics they can, you know, talk about. He gestures to Phil’s colourful shirt, or, at least, the bits that aren’t covered by his apron.

The subject change immediately causes Phil to brighten.

After that, the conversation flows. Phil cracks a few lame jokes that Dan laughs along to and he, in turn, starts to open up more. They discover their mutual love of anime and video games (and not exercising) and have deep conversations about, well, Pokémon. That isn’t all, though. They also talk about Studio Ghibli!

Their discussion is only broken when Dan realises that the sun is coming up. He squints at it unhappily, much like he had at Phil hours ago. “Huh,” Dan says aloud. Phil turns to see what he’s looking at.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realise how long we had been here!”

“Sorry for taking up your time,” Dan apologises, frowning. He has never stayed out this long before. “I should get going.”

“Me, too,” Phil replies, downhearted. Neither of them moves. A few minutes later, Phil, still gazing out the window, whispers, “Don’t look now but there’s another employee who’s been here for the past hour and they’re giving us a weird look.”

Dan whirls around straight away and sees that Phil’s right. The employee in question spots his accusing gaze and immediately pretends that they hadn’t been staring. “That’s right, loser, don’t look at me,” Dan mutters, turning back towards Phil.

Phil grins. “Well, I guess I really should get going before I get fired for… working… late? That doesn’t sound right but since I know basically nothing about this job, better safe than sorry.”

Dan sees the obvious opportunity to tease Phil about being a terrible employee but doesn’t take it. “And I should go home and pretend that I’ve been asleep since whatever time my parents expect me to be asleep by.” Once again, neither moves. Dan drums his fingers on the table, his leg bouncing up and down in time with it. “I… I’ll see you around? I guess, I mean, I hope, uh, because you’ve been really nice to talk to a-a-and-“

Phil cuts off his stuttering with another one of his stupidly cute laughs. Dan stares at the way the tips of his mouth curves up and at the bit of tongue that somehow escapes Phil’s lips. He finds himself wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss him. “3am tomorrow?” Phil suggests, snapping Dan back to reality.

“What?” Dan asks, screwing his face up.

“No offence, Dan, but you have the worst memory ever,” Phil observes, and Dan can’t see what that has to do with whether or not he’d see Phil again. “I mean, it’s understandable since you’re basically a zombie most days,” Dan figures he should be seriously offended by this, “so I can see why you don’t remember that I’ve served you at the same time every day for the past month.”

Dan’s jaw drops open. His cheeks burn and it’s only then that he suddenly gets why Phil seemed so familiar. Before he can say anything, probably another apology, Phil gets up and goes behind the counter. Dan notes in the back of his mind that that other employee is still there, most likely wondering how they could politely kick him and Phil out.

Phil returns holding a napkin. He sets it out on the table and proceeds to fish around in his pockets until he finally pulls out a black biro.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks. His eyes followed Phil’s careful strokes, so unlike Dan’s own messy handwriting, and watches as they form a series of numbers.

“So you can call me,” Phil explains, as he adds the finishing touches. He slides the napkin over to Dan, who is quick to pull out his phone and open up contacts.

“Why do you have a pen in your pocket?” He mutters as he types Phil’s name.

“I always have a pen on me! It gets really boring on my shifts, so I usually just doodle on random things.” Phil proves this by pointing out the drawn lion next to his number.

Dan raises his eyebrows and tries to hide the fond smile that threatens to take over, but Phil pulls his hand away from his face.

“Don’t hide it, your smile is adorable!” He insists. Dan considers scoffing but honestly, he’s too tired to pretend like that doesn’t mean a lot to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, trying to make it sound sarcastic. Phil sees right through it though. Dan wants to hide his burning face again for some form of defence, but Phil’s still clutching his hand.

As soon as he realises this, Phil shifts his grip so that their fingers are interlocked. “You really are cute, you know,” he whispers softly. Dan doesn’t say anything – he’d be a stuttering mess if he did.

All too soon, Phil lets go. “If I stay any longer, that guy might call the police on me. See you soon, Dan!” He stands up and walks behind the counter for the last time that night (day?) and then disappears through a door in the back, throwing Dan one last, brilliant smile.

Dan sighs as he watches Phil go. After a few minutes of staring at the door that had taken Phil, Dan finally gathers up enough energy to stand up, wobbling slightly as the blood rushed to his head. He walks out of the Starbucks, but not before he glances back one more time, hoping to see Phil. When he doesn’t, he briefly entertains the absurd thought of all of that being a weird dream, but all it takes is for him to pull out his phone and see Phil’s very real contact to dismiss that entirely.

On his way home, he smiles to himself. Tonight has certainly been interesting. He hopes desperately Phil sticks around. On a whim, he sends Phil a text.

MR. SHUT UP AND GET ME MY COFFEE we should hang out sometime. you know, not in the middle of the night. how about later today at 4-ish?

He tries to not check his phone obsessively every two seconds. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because soon enough, Phil texts back.

WEIRD STARBUCKS EMPLOYEE NAMED PHIL 4am?! Unless you have a time travel machine, I’m afraid we can’t. (Just kidding!) It’s a date :P

Dan slips his phone back into his pocket and almost skips home. Even though it’s 5am and the sun is rising, when he finally flops onto his bed after setting an alarm on his phone, he falls right to sleep, a huge smile spread across his face.

A/N This may get a sequel, depending if people like it.

[natasha-talks]

Gone-

There’s a part of me that i can’t get back. No matter how hard i try, it’s never coming back. It’s gone. It’s my fault. My fault for trusting people. My fault for falling for the wrong person. My fault for being too childish. My fault for being too stubborn. My fault for being so stupid. My fault for being too nice. It’s all my fault. Shit is getting real. I thought i was about to recover but no. I need help. I need a few good words to carry on. I need people to remind me that life is worth living and i need someone to remind me that i am useful because the truth is, i feel so shitty about myself with everyone around me making me feel like one ugh i’m tired. Too tired. I stopped taking my meds. I hate that my mood is unstable and my skin is breaking out and everything is falling apart. I am down to the very core. I am sorry for myself. I will end this because i don’t think there will be a good end for me. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to survive but i failed. You have no idea what its like to wake up every single day and say “Today is going to be a good day! I’m gonna be okay”, get out from bed and pass by the mirror inside your room and damn, you hate every single thing that you see in the mirror. You keep on smiling and tell yourself again that its going to be okay even though you know that you’re lying to yourself. You have no idea what its like to step into your bathroom and ask yourself “Is today going to be the day?” whenever you look at the cutter. You have no idea what its like to live every single day knowing the fact that nobody understands you’re in pain, mentally and physically. You have no idea what its like to know that boys are looking at your body and there’s nothing you can do about it. You have no idea what you really have until it’s gone. You have no idea what its like to know that there’s nobody there for you when you’re about to cry in college and the toilet is the only place you could think of (Or maybe the rooftop). Yes, i’m an overthinker. I’ll create situations in my head in order for me to prepare for the worst. Why? That’s because i hate surprises. To my parents; I’m sorry. I am truly sorry. I’m toxic as fuck. You have no idea what its like to get panic attacks at 3am when everyone else is sleeping. You have no idea how painful it is not knowing who to call because your parents wont see the pain and they will never understand. A part of me misses him because he was there to answer my calls no matter what. My friends kept on telling me to go back to him. Why wont they fucking understand that i will never go back to him after everything that he did to me. I am traumatised. Still. Every time i heard his name, it brings me back to 19th January. I can still see his face shouting at me. I can still see him raising his hands and pulled my hijab. I can still see him hit my head. I can still see him pulling me back into the car when i wanted to jump off from the car. I can still see him chasing me in the parking lot and pushed me. I can still see him shouting “Perempuan sundal” at the main entrance of my college and everyone looked at me. I can still see him pushing me to the ground and shouted “Get back in the car la sial”. I can still see his looks when he kicked my womb. Now you tell me, how am i supposed to forgive and forget? You tell me how am i supposed to go back to the person who claimed he loves me when the truth? He put me in so much pain. The reason why im here is because i promised myself not to share anything with people unless if they wanna know. I just need a few good people to love me when i dont even know how to love myself. The last person who said “I love you” randomly to me was Najaa. It felt so good to have someone to remind you that you are loved without you doing anything for him/her. Yes, i feel so insignificant most of the time. I stopped talking to everyone in class. Now it all make sense. When you’re smart, everybody wants to be your friend. But when youre dumb, nobody wants to be with you. A and R, you guys won. Congratulations.  I crave for the crazy kind of love. When i am not afraid to be myself around you because no matter what, i know that you love me for me. I want my lover to be my bestfriend, my brother and also my partner in crime. I just need someone who is down for long night drives, a day at the museum, impromptu roadtrips, rollercoaster rides (MY FAV!!), food hunting and so many more. I did all of these before with someone i never truly loved. It felt different. I want to have someone who can grab my hand and cuddle me. Someone who understands my likes and dislikes. Someone who will not control me because there’s nothing to control since I don’t even talk to guys. Someone who will just hug me when i’m scared or mad because istg, hugs can heal everything. But i dont know what i want anymore. I don’t see my future. I dont see myself graduating, i dont see myself having real friends except for 1 or 2. I dont see myself getting married. I dont see myself having a family. I don’t see myself having kids. I used to work my ass off because i had my future planned out with him. We did our very best because we wanted to provide the best for our kids so that they will be proud of having us as their parents. Yes. that’s why. Cringe all u want but that’s the fucking truth. I dont see myself being supportive anymore. I dont see myself laughing out loud, i dont see myself studying abroad. Useless as fuck. Tell me what’s the point of living? Somebody just please tell me. Tell me whats the point of living when you’re useless? Nobody likes having you around. Youre ugly, fat, stupid and everything negative = to you, Natasha. It’s all your fault. I’m tired. I am so so tired. I’m tired of seeing the doctor too when i know he will say the same damn thing every fucking time. “Don’t stress yourself too much yea. We don’t want you to snap then u tahu everything will be over kan?” Wtf are u talking about? How am i supposed to choose? It’s not like i’m the one who is asking for it. Shit. Then snap the shit outta me. Let me die since everyone wants that to happen right? I’m tired of dragging people into my problems. They deserve to be happy. I want to watch people happy and i never want them to feel what im feeling because istg its fucking painful. I’m done. Perhaps, people will start appreciating me once i’m gone.

[briefbouquetcreatorlove-blog]

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"How much does the average person have in their checking account?

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BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://insureinfo.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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How much qualifies as full coverage insurance?

How much qualifies as full coverage insurance?

How do I get health insurance for my unborn child?

I'm 17 and I'm due the 13 of September. I have insurance through my dad but my baby won't be covered. My parents make too much for any type of government assistance. I need my baby to have health insurance before we go to the hospital but I don't know how to achieve that.

How old do you have to be to buy insurance?

how old do you have to be to buy Business insurance?

How much does the average person have in their checking account?

NOT including 401ks, etc. Just cash you can touch and spend. And how much should you have if you have like 1,000rent +utilities +car insurance +credit cards + cell phone, etc.

Decent and Cheap Health Insurance Plans for International Students in the US?

I will be studying my Master in the Boston area, this September. The grad-school health insurance is a little too expensive to me. What would be some of the decent and affordable health insurance companies and plans?""

How much do you think my car insurance would cost?

I'm turning 18 in March and will be getting a car on my 18th birthday. I don't know what type of cr I'll be getting but I'll make sure it has good MPG. I'll be using my car for storm chasing. Do you think I'll get a discount since I'm helping the National Weather Service issue watches and warnings by storm chasing? What's the average cost of car insurance for my age group in Manatee county, FL? Sources?""

Health insurance for over 65 yrs old immigrant?

Im looking for health insurance for my parents. Theyre both 65 yrs old and have health issues (although, they dont require immediate health care but just being prepared in case an ...show more""

What a good auto insurance for a college student?

going to be my first insurance so i really wanna get a good n cheap insurance

HELP PLEASE. AUTO INSURANCE FOR NEW DRIVER. I NEED A GOOD ANSWER?

how much a year would a 1998 chevrolet camaro base, not z28, be for a new driver. any ideas? and also a 2002 dodge intrepreped es 4 door cost? please.""

How can i get lower car insurance for my newly passed girl friend ( UK )?

my girlfriend has just her driving test 2 weeks ago im getting her a car tomorrow, ive been checking through loads of insurance sites trying to find her the cheapest possible is there any tips and tricks what to enter on these sites they ask so many strange question, or should i insure the car than just add her as a named driver? or do you know off any cheap sites.""

Should my 85 year old grandparents but life insurance?

I am very upset with this insurance company who sold my 85 year old grandfather some life insurance. He gets $5000 worth for $91 per month! what a rip-off! They REALLY want to buy some insurance . does anyone know the best option for them? Please help!

""Hai, i need to go to Muscat by car is it possible to get insurance from hatta border for this car which is registered under my friend's name?""

Hai, i need to go to Muscat by car is it possible to get insurance from hatta border for this car which is registered under my friend's name?""

Average cost for house insurance for a trailer? (VA)?

My husband and I have been renting for years and are looking to purchase a single-wide trailer as a starter home. We're looking at 2009 models under $50,000. I've googled myself to death and can't find an idea of what our monthly insurance cost would be. Just a rough estimate would be nice, so we can continue with our budgeting. Thank you!""

Cheaper auto insurance with EVOC certification?

While I was going through military police training, I was told if you have an Emercency Vehicle Operations permit, you can get a discount on your car insurance. Is this true and what companies offer this discount if at all?""

How much higher is the maintance cost on a BMW vs Ford/Chevy/Dodge?

i want to get a bmw as my first car, i can afford the car, insurance, taxes all that junk but what i dont no about are the service costs? compared to a regular car how much higher will they be.""

Can a step parents add a child on his health insurance?

We live in california, and i have heard that if they investigate and there is a claim and they look into it, because he has no legal coustody, then there is a possibility they would not cover the claim?? Please help, and if you reference from a website, if you could include the url that would be great.""

What is a penalty in MA for driving a car with no insurance?

I was involved in the car accident recently... I was driving in Boston the uninsured car with the New Hampshire registration. But in NH car insurance is not compulsory. The hearing will be held on my case, which is considered to be criminal. If somebody ever been in the similar situation ,plz, share your experience!""

What is the cheapest car insurance for a new 20 year old driver in Michigan?

I dont have car yet but I just need some general information about how much im going to be paying a month. I also live in the suburbs and plan on getting a reliable,cheap,and off the theft radar car. Thanks!""

Should I buy a 600cc or a 1000cc super sport motorcycle?

I am a fairly experienced rider, I have been riding dirt bikes since I can remember; I also have had my motorcycle licenses at age 15 and now I am now 17 years old. I have put over 10,000 on my kawasaki ninja 250r so this isn't for my first bike it is a step up because me and my dad both believe it is time. I have been looking at ZX6r's and r6's a lot but my real question is if I buy a 600cc bike will I regret it and wish I would have bought a ZX10r or a r10? Will I eventually feel like the 600 bike it's enough? Oh and I am looking to get a bike and keep it so that it will last me though senior year of high school and all of collage. I have looked at all different types of Motorcycles and the super sports have been my favorite by far. Any other information about the 600cc or 1000cc bikes and y'all's opinions on them and which ones you all personally like will be greatly appreciated! Thank you so much for your time for answering!""

""Any companies you would recommend for cheaper car insurance rates (in Ontario, Canada)?

I've been calling around some of the major companies and the quoted rates have been sky high despite my spotless record. Maybe there's some hidden gem companies out there? I hope!

How much is Ferrari insurance?

How much would it cost to insure a 16 year old for a 308 Ferrari that is worth $20,000""

Auto insurance low monthly payments?

I am having a very difficult time getting auto insurance i can afford . am on disability, and cannot afford the outlandish prices these days. Does anyone know where i can buy cheaper auto insurance? where can i find it? the lowest i could find was $143,53 down and and $140.09 a month. Does anyone have websites i can surf? Is there any with no money down and only monthly payments? is there anyone who has had the same problem as I? can anyone help me please?""

Car insurance please help me out?

Oh right lol my query is as follows .. In July 2012 my daughter took out a pay monthly insurance policy with close premium 139 per month which was paid from my bank account every month on time for 12 months. When due for renewal August 2013 the insurance company sent her a quote saying payments were 168 per month! In view of this she decided not to insure her car and didn't use it. Shortly afterwards she receives a letter from close premium saying Hastings insurance could cover her for 100 per month but she never accepted this offer. In September 2013 Hastings took payment from my account so I contacted bank and recalled the payment. She now has a recovery agency acting on behalf of Hastings claiming she owes 400 . I can't see how she owes this money ? Do we have to pay this when we never accepted the policy and close premium passed on my bank details without my knowledge ? ( hope this makes sense)

I have auto insurance in SD but currenly in MN for college?

I'm currently in college and looking at switching my auto insurance. My permanent address is in South Dakota which is also where my car is insured and I'm going to college in Minnesota. I know I need to have my policy in South Dakota but will using my college address require I have minnesota insurance and register my car in minnesota?

What kind of health insurance is best for business?

in my family i am alone young and i have small business. i am afraid if any thing happen with me, my family become many problem.""

My First Speeding ticket as a minor! Will my insurance go up?

Last night I was coming home from a concert in Cleveland Ohio. Stupidly I wasn't paying attention to my speed and got pulled over for a 76 in a 60. 16 Mph over. Knowing my parents would take my car away for who knows how long my brother has agreed to help me pay the ticket. So with the ticket taken care of, that leave the possibility of my insurance going up who knows how much. I have State Farm and am on my parents plan. I will be receiving 2 points from this ticket. If anyone has a general idea about the possibility of my insurance going up at all. - I have done previous reading and can't get a straight forward find. Im hoping it wont affect my insurance premium or whatever and I can be in the free!! thanks alot in advance""

Auto Insurance Price?

Does anyone have a rough estimate of how much my auto insurance would cost per year? I'm a 19 year old female purchasing a 2000 Toyota camry.

What if I don't want to pay for car insurance?

I think its wrong that we are forced to pay for car insurance, what if we didn't have to? Assuming I never get it any crashes, I don't want to pay all my life to make sure that some drunk driver gets his car fixed.""

Do insurance rates vary on the type or model of car?

Do insurance rates vary on the type or model of car?

How much does the average person have in their checking account?

NOT including 401ks, etc. Just cash you can touch and spend. And how much should you have if you have like 1,000rent +utilities +car insurance +credit cards + cell phone, etc.

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/homeowner-flood-insurance-affordability-act-peter-holland/"