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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years ago

Text

Back to Haunt Me

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word count: 12301

Summary: Simon Snow hasn't heard from his former roommate in years. So when he gets a call from him, he's equal parts confused and intrigued. Based on "I called you at 2am because I need you" request from @god-themself

Read on AO3

AN: I'm really sorry for how long these requests are taking, oy. Every time I start writing, the fic ends up getting longer and my stupid body decides to crap out and not work. Anyway, here's the latest fic. Hope you enjoy it :)

———————————————

Simon

I’m sitting upside down on my couch when I get the call.

It’s not something I do too often, just when I’m really, really stuck on something. I say that ideas pool in my feet and this lets them trickle down to my head. Penny thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous. She says it will give me headaches, and it does, but it also helps. I’ve been stuck for an hour on coming up with new lessons. This is my last resort.

So I’m laying upside down on my small couch, legs up in the air, face turning a very bright shade of red. My glasses slipped off a while ago, making me essentially blind to anything more than five feet away. My mind is swimming with new ideas for maths games and art projects, the mental images almost swirling past my blurry vision.

And when I’m deep in contemplation a new history Kahoot, my phone blares out my “Toxic” ringtone. (Britney is amazing and haters can fuck off.) I flip up way too fast, making my vision spin like water in a toilet bowl. I paw at my phone while I wobble back and forth. With the combination of my glasses on the floor and blood rushing from my head, I don’t bother to read the caller ID. Or lack thereof.

“Hello?” I say shakily, still clutching my head.

“Siiiiimon,” a low, slurring, strangely familiar voice says. Is a student prank calling me again? Dammit, I thought I scolded them enough.

“Jeremy, if that’s you, this isn’t funny. This is my personal mobile and you-”

“Aw, did you already forget me, Snow?” the person continues, and my heart suddenly freezes. “It hasn’t been that long has it? Only seven years.”

My jaw drops and I sit ramrod straight. Every vein in my body turns ice cold. Holy. Fucking, Shit. “Baz?!”

“Yes, it is I. Good evening, Snow,” he snorts, but there’s still that weird waver to his voice.

“A-Are you drunk?”

“Ding ding, we have a winner in every category,” he giggles. Fucking giggles. I don’t think I ever heard him let out so much as a chuckle in all the years I lived with him. He must be very drunk.

“Um, how did you get my number?”

“Remember when you got mysterious calls supposedly from the Babadook when we were fifteen? Surprise! That was me! Got your mobile off the school registry.”

My mouth falls open even more. “I knew that was you!”

“Duh!” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “Shush! Yes, I actually have him on the line. I’ll get him to come.” He’s definitely not talking to me. He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about that, Snow. Super sorry, for everything I did back in school. So please don’t hang up.”

Admittedly, I was going to. But he sounds so pathetic and drunk, so I stay on. “Alright,” I sigh. “I’m still here.”

“Hooray!” There’s a short stretch of silence. He doesn’t continue, so I have to pipe up again.

“Baz,” I say, “not to be rude, but, uh, why are you drunk calling me? We haven’t seen each other in awhile and it’s...” I scramble to grab my glasses, then look at my wall clock. “After two in the morning. Plus, you like, hate me.”

“No,” he slurs out. He sounds well pissed. “I don’t hate you, Snow. You’re too much of a kind brave hero to hate.”

“Um, thank you?”

He laughs loudly. I’ve heard him laugh more in the last five minutes than I did our entire childhoods. “You’re very, very welcome.”

Again with the silence. I can’t believe I’m the one talking more between us. “So... why are you calling? You wanna catch up or something?”

Baz lets out a long, low groan. For some reason, I imagine him slumping against a wall or something. “I bloody wish. Stupid barkeep won’t let me leave until I call someone to get me and my stupid friends and stupid aunt won’t pick up.”

“So you decided to call me?!”

“You’re the only other person I know who lives in London.”

“Who told you I lived in London?”

“Aggie. Said you had a cute little flat and a cute little cat.” He giggles, and I can almost picture a dopey smile on his usually frowning face. It looks so weird and wrong. “Hey, that rhymes.”

I sit even more upright. “Wait, Aggie? As in Agatha?! Are you two dating now?!”

He scoffs. Now that really reminds me of our school days. “No, Snow, I’m not dating your ex. She’s not my type.”

“That’s rude. Agatha is very pretty.”

“I mean that she’s not a man, Snow.”

My face immediately turns scarlet, and this time not from being upside down. “O-Oh. You’re gay?”

“Once again, duh!”

“Fuck off, you flirted with her all the time!”

“Nuh-uh.” He sounds like a bloody obnoxious American. “Not really. Just did that to piss you off.”

“I’m hanging up,” I growl.

“Wait!” Baz shouts as I move the phone off my ear. “Please don’t hang up, Simon. Fucking hell, I need you.”

I seriously debate actually hanging up. But there’s something in his voice that tugs at my chest. It’s weird and explainable, but it’s there. I slowly bring the phone back to my ear. “You need me?”

“Yeah,” he groans. “I’m drunk as fuck and uh...yeah, I’m still bleeding.”

My pulse goes wild instantly. “Bleeding?! Are you hurt?!”

“Yeah, but you should see the other bloke,” he laughs proudly. “Bartender says if someone doesn’t pick me up and take me home, she’s calling the police to come get me. Doesn’t trust me with an Uber or something.” Baz makes a weird yet familiar sound. Is...is Baz Pitch sticking his tongue out at someone? What the fuck has happened in the last seven years?

“Alright,” I sigh. “Where are you?”

“Yay! I am...” He takes a long pause, which gives me time to rub my aching temple. “Hey, where am I?”

There’s more rustling and some muffled yelling. “He’s at XOYO,” a stern woman’s voice says. “32-37 Cowper St, second floor. We’re closing in an hour so get here soon.”

Before I can say anything else, the phone clicks off. I stay frozen for a moment. My brain is still playing a bit of catch up. So, Baz bloody Pitch has called me out of the blue after seven years, drunk off his arrogant arse, apparently gay, and needs me to pick him up. And now he’s sorry for being a dick to me through our entire time in school? That’s nice. Few years too late if you ask me, but better late than never I suppose.

I look down at all my notes, the ones I have to finish in a few weeks before the new school year. If I were a worse person, I would forget about Baz, finish my lessons, and just go to bed. He’s my former bully, I shouldn’t care. But when I think about Baz, drunk, bleeding, sitting there alone at a bar waiting for me but I never show up, my stomach plummets to the centre of the Earth.

Godammit.

I march towards the door, grab my keys, and set out to fulfill a bad idea.

Turns out this bar is right in the middle of bloody Shoreditch. Which means at this time of night (or morning), there’s lots of closing nightclubs and stumbling drunk people being sick on the sidewalk. Glad I didn’t take the tube.

XOYO is a mostly nondescript red brick building with some black panelling and a neon red sign. I park as close as I can, which is not that close. The stairs up to the club are steep and leave me panting by the end. Bloody hell, I need to get back to the gym. Chasing ten years old is not enough exercise apparently. The bar is one of those hipster places with wooden tables and old Victorian chairs and candles. There’s a few people passed out on tables, snoring with their beer glasses.

“Simon!” a familiar voice shouts from the bar. “Simon, over here!”

I turn to my left too look at the bar, and...wow. After seven years, Baz looks so different, yet so the same. Same sharp cheekbones, same long-ish raven hair, same deep sea grey eyes. He’s broader though, shoulders filling out his blood stained grey dress shirt. Far less gaunt and gangly and vampiric looking than he was in school. The shirt has the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Weird. Baz always had his uniform buttoned to collar in school. Then I have to do a double take, because...Baz Pitch is wearing jeans? They’re dark and expensive looking, hugging his legs, which still have a footballer’s strong muscles. He has a big, dopey, drunk grin, which is offset by the small black eye and blood trickling from his nose. It’s unfortunate this is the first time I’ve ever seen him smile.

I walk towards him, hands in my pockets, shoulders nervously hunched in. Why is my heart beating so fast? Bloody hell, calm down, Simon, it’s just Baz. You know him, probably better than most people. He’s an arsehole, not evil. And we haven’t had a physical fight since we were thirteen. Plus it’s been seven years, we’re adults now. He won’t bite. Hopefully.

“Hi Baz,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Uh, nice to see you.”

Baz squints at me, and a pang of panic shoots through me. Is there something wrong with my face? Bloody hell, what a cruel twist of fate it would be, to see my childhood enemy after years and have pizza sauce on my cheek.

“Um, Baz, you there?” I weakly wave a hand in front of him.

“Since when do you wear spectacles?” he asks, still slurring his words.

I instinctively touch my wireframe glasses, immediately self conscious. “Oh. Since first year uni. Turns out one of the reasons school Watford so hard for me was that I couldn’t read the board a lot.”

I chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. I expect Baz to laugh or mock me like he used to. But instead he grins again, leaning his cheek on his bruised hand. “They look good.”

Why are my cheeks heating up? Must be bad air conditioning. “Um, thanks, Baz.”

He keeps grinning, showing off his sharp bright white teeth. (There’s a good reason I thought he was a vampire.) “Welcome.”

It goes silent again, with me standing awkwardly and Baz grinning. Christ, this is so weird. I assumed I’d never see Baz ever again, let alone drunk and bloodied in designer jeans. I have less of an idea what to do than usual.

“Ugh, finally!” a woman’s voice says to the side. I whip my head around to see who must obviously be the bartender. She’s got a deep scowl on her face and hands on her hips. “You’re Simon Snow?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I reply.

“Good. Please take this arsehole off my hands.”

Baz blows a raspberry at her like a toddler. Bloody hell, he is a weird drunk. The bartender glares and flips him off.

“I’ll get him out of here,” I say.

“Thank you.” She digs under the bar and takes out a sleek black iPhone. “Here’s his phone. Took it from him after he almost dropped it in a beer glass.”

“Alright.” My brow furrows in confusion. “Do you have Baz’s keys? Or does he still have them?”

“He never had them. Searched all his pockets, nothing there.”

“Worst feel up ever,” Baz grumbles.

I rub my aching temple. “Baz, did you really forget your keys?”

He frowns and scratches his head with a bloodied hand. “Hm, yes, I think I did. I left my flat pretty fast. Maybe the super will let me in if he’s awake.”

“Where do you live?”

His brows pull together, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Now that is certainly an expression I remember from school. It’s his thinking face. I used to glare at him while he studied all the time. “Somewhere...posh, and silver.”

I groan and drag a hand over my face. “Alright then. Well...I guess I’ll bring you to my flat.”

Baz’s jaw drops open and he shakes his head, making his black hair fan out in a strangely majestic way. “No no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out-”

“No, Baz, you won’t, you’re too pissed to think right now. I’m taking you to my place, no questions.”

He frowns. I can’t tell if he’s sad or angry. “I don’t wanna im-”

“We lived together for years, arsehole. One more night won’t kill you. Come on, get up.”

I grab his bicep and haul him to his feet. Bloody hell, does he work out a lot or something? He’s made of fucking rock. Baz wobbles back and forth and ends up leaning on me. I struggle to keep him upright.

“Baz,” I grumble, “you’re too heavy, I can’t hold you up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He sort of heaves himself upwards, still wobbling on his feet, but at least he’s standing. That’s something I guess.

“You good?”

Baz sticks out his arms like he’s on a tightrope. “Yeah, I’m alright. Mostly.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.” I look over at the still very annoyed bartender. “Uh, thanks for taking care of him.”

“If you’re really thankful,” she spits, “make sure he doesn’t come back.”

She marches off into the back. Baz flips her off before I quickly pull down his hand. “Enough,” I grumble. “Let’s get you out of here before she smacks you.”

“Kinky,” he chuckles. God, drunk Baz is fucking weird.

Getting down the stairs takes far longer than it should. Baz has to watch his every step so he doesn’t go tumbling down. He’s like a shaky newborn fawn. It would be cute if it weren't so frustrating. Finally, we get to the bottom and I lead Baz by the sleeve towards my car. He laughs loudly when we reach it. I immediately scowl and whip around to face him.

“What?!” I snap, assuming he’s making fun of my old beat up beetle. But instead he has his head tilted upwards, laughing at the sky. Neon club signs and yellow street lights light up his smiling face. He’s like a rainbow constellation, colour reaching every crevice. Huh. Baz has always been pretty, but has he always been this pretty?

“Lights in the sky,” he laughs. “Pretty.”

I groan and tug him hard. “Come on, you drunk prat, hurry up.”

Baz stumbles along reluctantly. I shove into the passenger seat and buckle him up like he’s a bloody eight year old, then take my place in the driver’s seat. Baz is slumping, the seat belt digging into his cheek. If we crash his pretty face is going to get cut open. I debate telling him, but Baz rarely ever listens to me, and I doubt that has changed much.

I turn the engine over. Baz lets out a whoop so loud I jolt. “Allons-y,” he shouts like some deranged adventurer.

“Silence, s’il vous plait,” I reply as I turn on to the road.

“Oo, you speak French now, Snow?”

“Yes. I lived in France for a year, I learned pretty well.”

“Very nice.” For a moment I think he’s mocking me, but his smile is completely genuine, if not a bit drunken. Is it weird that I like drunk adult Baz better than sober teen Baz?

I drive through Shoreditch slowly, making sure not to hit any wayward club leavers. Baz grumbles about the slowness, but I tell him to shut up or I’ll drive us into a pole. That makes him quiet for a little while, thank god. When we hit the main drag, he decides to pipe up again.

“So what have you been up to, Snow?” he asks.

My eyes briefly flick over to him, catching his grin and glazed eyes. I scoff and look back at the road. “Really? We’re going to chit chat about life after Watford?”

“You just want us to sit in silence the whole time?”

“Maybe.”

“Boring,” he groans. “Come on, Snow, it’s been a while. Let’s catch up.”

I chuckle low in my throat. “Yes, I would love to catch up with my plastered childhood bully.”

Baz lets out a pathetic sort of whining sigh. Suddenly, something brushes my shoulder. I jolt away and briefly look over, realising it’s Baz’s hand. He’s pouting in the way his mouth is perfectly made for.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “About all the shit I did. I was a messed up prick at Watford. I’m really sorry I took that all out on you.”

I raise an extremely suspicious eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?!”

“It’s been seven years, Snow. Am I not allowed to learn from my mistakes?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, of course. I just didn’t expect it from you...”

“I’m a changed man, Snow,” he declares proudly. “No more picking on other people to avoid dealing with my emotional and family problems.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Wow, you sound like a therapist.”

“That’s because I am a therapist.”

We stop at a red light, giving me a chance to whip my head around in shock. My jaw is firmly on the ground. “You’re a therapist?!”

“Sort of.” Baz grins pointed ear to pointed ear. He offers his hand, though it’s a bit limp. “Dr. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, psychiatrist in training at University College Hospital. Pleasure to meet you.”

I can’t take my hands off the wheel, so I don’t take his, but I smile instead. Baz chuckles as his hand falls, so I think he gets the picture.

“Wow,” I sigh. “You, a psychiatrist. I never would have thought.”

“Me neither, until I took a psychology course in year 10. Then I decided I liked, y’know, mind stuff and shit. It was interesting and challenging. And I could help people with it.”

I scoff, but with a smile. “And you used to call me the overly noble hero.”

“Well, I decided to follow in your golden footsteps, golden boy.” He turns towards me, cheeks squished against the seat. He’s really going to die if we crash. “So really, what have you been up to since Watford, Mr. Hero? Storming castles? Saving damsels in distress? Travelling the world?”

That makes me laugh louder. “You have a way overinflated sense of my heroism.”

He snorts, but it’s not unkind like it used to be. Just sort of amused. “Alright. Then what do you do?”

“I’m, uh, actually a primary teacher. Year six, to be exact.”

“Oh,” Baz breathes out, sounding genuinely amazed. “That’s cool. That makes sense, yeah.”

“Makes sense?”

“You were always helping out the kids in younger years at Watford.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, guess you’ve got a point.”

“Is it fun? Teaching children?”

“Yeah. I like finding fun ways to teach them stuff. Though it’s not great they get in fights or stuck lego bricks up their noses.”

Baz lets out a barking laugh. It’s a fun, sudden sound. I’ve never heard it before, yet it works well for Baz. “Is that what people mean by ‘the joys of children?’”

“Something like that. Is psychiatry fun?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But time consuming. Doctors aren’t supposed to have damn lives apparently.”

“Well, good thing you found time to go to a hipster bar”

Everything suddenly gets very, very quiet. It reminds me of when we would study. Backs to each other, no noise, plenty of tension. Did I say something wrong? I used to do that a lot, but I thought I’d gotten better. I’ve learned to chew my words better over the years. But when we stop at a roundabout, I turn to see that Baz is gazing ahead, mouth a thin line and grey eyes lost in the distance.

“Pretty lights,” he whispers in awe, like a child. I guess alcohol does turn adults into children. His nose is still letting out a small trickle of dark red blood. I sigh and shake my head.

“Glove box,” I say.

Baz turns his head to me. “Huh?”

“There’s tissues in the glove box. Your nose is still bleeding a bit.”

“Oh.” He paws at the latch in front of him, floppy drunk fingers struggling to just bloody lift it. I sigh and reach over, lifting it for him. Baz takes out the little packet and flashes me that dopey smile. Why does my chest feel funny? I must be overtired.

“Thanks,” he says, then presses the tissue to his nose. It’s weirdly comforting in its familiarity. I still remember sitting in the headmaster’s office after our fights, covered in bruises and blood, glaring at each other. This is better though. We’re not fighting, in fact we’re being nice. Maybe this is how we could’ve been at Watford. Maybe we could’ve been...friends.

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride. But it’s a comfortable silence, no tension. I like it. A lot. I like all of this better than fighting.

———————————————

I pull into my spot in front of my apartment. Dragging Baz out of the car is a bit of a problem, but luckily my place has a lift, so no more stair problems. He starts leaning on me as we go up to my floor. I use one finger to push him back, and he slumps against the wall. I need to strap him to a dolly.

We go into my apartment, and I instinctively prepare for a snide comment from Baz. Something about it’s size, it’s clutter, the decor. But he says nothing derogatory. In fact, he smiles, brushing his hand against my Van Gogh print and old dining room table.

“You, uh, like it?” I ask. Wait, why does it matter what Baz thinks of my place? I don’t need his approval.

“Yeah,” Baz replies. “It’s very nice.”

There’s a thump from my room, followed by the familiar pitter-patter of tiny paws. Cherry prances into the room, all fluffy tailed and cute. She blinks up at Baz with big green eyes. Baz makes a tiny gasp and gets on his knees, holding his hand out to Cherry.

“Hello, pretty kitty,” he says softly. “Aren’t you an adorable little thing.”

Cherry sniffs his fingers, then immediately nuzzles against his hand. Baz looks absolutely elated, a big childish grin on his face.

“You like cats, huh?”

Baz nods vigorously. “I would have one if my building allowed pets.” He scratches behind Charry’s ear with glee. “What’s this little one’s name?”

“Her name is Cherry.”

“You did love those scones,” he chuckles.

I chuckle as well, fiddling with my shirt sleeve. “Still do. Though none are as good as Cook Pritchard’s.”

“Very true.” He stands up, pulling away from Cherry, and wobbles his way into the sitting room. He stands between my coffee table and ratty old couch. “So may I sleep on that couch?”

I scramble in after him and start piling up my curriculum papers. I don’t want Baz shouting at me for the mess. “Uh, yeah, just lemme fix it up a bit.”

“It’s alright-”

“No, I’ll fix it. And...maybe you should clean up a bit first?”

Baz turns to me with a confused expression. “What?” I sigh and point at is blood spattered shirt. He pulls it in front of himself, like a child who’s spilled food. “Oh, right.”

“There’s stuff on you face too...”

Baz drags a long finger over his cheek, and rubs the dried blood between his fingers. “Good point.

“You wanna take a shower maybe?”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah. But be warned, I don’t have any of your fancy French soaps.”

He lets out a loud short laugh, like a happy little firecracker going off. “Wouldn’t expect you to, Snow. I doubt you’ve changed that much.”

“Heh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, which is getting very hot for some reason. I think I need to fix my fan.

Baz wobbles back towards me. He stands a bit too close, and now that things are calm, I notice how he smells. It’s a mix of liquor, irony blood, and the very faint, familiar scent of cedar and bergamot. Seven years later and I can’t forget that smell. I guess it’s burned into my brain forever. I’m not sure that I mind.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asks, snapping me out of my olfactory induced daze.

“Oh, uh, down the hall and to your left. There’s towels in the cupboard.”

“Alright.” He sticks his hands in his trouser pockets, a very shy gesture I’m not used to seeing from him. “Thank you. Again. I’m saying that a lot tonight, wow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “I guess so. Now go wash off that awful blood please.”

“Aye aye, Mr.Snow.” He does a mocking little American salute with two fingers. I watch as he half skips his way to the bathroom, trying not to giggle at his ridiculous gait.

The bathroom door shuts, and I let out a long breath. My brain is still playing catch up. I need to sit, relax, just process all this shit. Once I organize my papers into semi-neat piles and close my laptop, I grab a cherry granola bar from the counter and collapse on the couch. I hear the shower turn on. I glance over at the clock. Bloody hell, it’s past 3am, and my enemy is taking a shower in my flat. Well, former enemy, I guess. We’re not fighting anymore. In fact, Baz is being really nice. It’s pretty damn great. I hope we can keep this up.

Cherry jumps onto the couch, startling me from my daze. She immediately curls up on my lap, purring happily. I chuckle as I pet her. Penny jokes that Cherry is my emotional support service cat. Honestly, she’s not wrong. I don’t know what I would do without her.

“Wanna watch Dr. Who, darling?” I coo, scratching behind her ear. “Yes, yes you do.”

I grab the remote and turn on Netflix, going to one of my favourite episodes. We sit there in peaceful silence through the show. I try not to listen to the shower down the hall. I can’t help but worry. What if he slips and hits his head? What if he falls asleep and drowns? What if he tries to eat the bloody soap? All are strong possibilities. But he’s still Baz. He’s too smart and stubborn to die.

As I near the end of the episode, I realise it’s been half an hour since Baz went in. My heart beats double time, every fear racing through my head. (As well as concern for my water bill.) But the sound of water shuts off, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I hear Baz’s unsteady feet pad around the tiled floor. But then there’s rattling and muffled swearing, and I’m on my feet immediately. Cherry meows unhappily and scuttles away.

“Sorry, girl,” I say as I speed walk to the bathroom. I knock on the wooden door. “Baz? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” his muffled voice replies, but that’s followed by a loud bang. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I’m coming in.”

“Snow, wait-”

I push the door open and immediately freeze. All the blood in my body goes straight to my face, turning it tomato red. Because Baz Pitch is standing in front of my medicine cabinet with nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is soaked and messy, falling adorably in front his shocked face. His legs look strong enough to crush someone. Thin rivulets of water drip down his broad, bare chest. I watch them for a few long, drawn out seconds, completely frozen. In our time living together, Baz and I made a point to never see each other without clothes on. Did he even look close to this back at school? Did I just never notice?

“Um...” Baz says, breaking me out of my daze. I whip around, hand cupped over my eyes.

“Bloody hell, Baz!” I shout. “Give a guy some warning.”

“I would have if you hadn’t come bursting in!”

“Well, you took awhile in the shower, then I heard swearing. Excuse me for being concerned.”

“I’m grateful for your concern, Mr. Hero, though not for your usual brashness.”

“Just put some clothes on, please.”

“Very well.”

I listen to Baz shuffle and grumble as I assume he gets dressed. I resist the urge to turn around and check if he can get his legs into his trousers. I’m not sure how drunk he still is.

“You can turn around now, Snow.”

I slowly turn, and my face turns scarlet again. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!”

“Because mine is covered in blood,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which I guess it is, but still he’s not wearing a shirt. Why are my hands so clammy?

Baz starts sorting through the medicine cabinet. I frown in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for bandages.” He lifts his left hand, showing off his bruised, still slightly bleeding knuckles. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get it, sit down on the toilet.”

Baz stumbles over and does what he’s told (for once). I grab the first aid kit from under the sink and sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“Gimme your hand,” I say. Baz holds out his arm, fingers limp. I try not to look freaked out. His skin is black and blue and there are many cuts, still bleeding slowly. “Why are you still bleeding? It’s been like, an hour.”

“My blood alcohol content is high,” Baz replies. “Booze is a blood thinner. Means I’ll bleed more.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Thanks, Mr. Doctor.”

Baz chuckles, a soft smile playing on his mouth. “Dr. Grimm-Pitch will do.”

I laugh as well. I take a towel off the rack and pat his hand dry, then get the antiseptic.

“I just had a shower,” Baz protests.

“Don’t care. We need to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

“I’m fine.”

I pour the clear liquid on a sterile pad. “Still doing it.”

“I’m the doctor here, dammit.”

“The doctor who is still drunk off his arse after a bloody bar fight. So shut up.”

Baz frowns, but doesn’t protest. I lightly pat his cuts. He inhales sharply through his teeth and tries to pull away, but I grab his wrist, holding still.

“Don’t move,” I say.

“It hurts,” he whines like a toddler.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s what you get for getting in a bar fight, idiot.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t move again either. Once I’m satisfied all the cuts are clean, I use another pad to get them dry, then take out the bandages.

“You get injured a lot, Snow?” He’s smirking playfully, not a hint of malice. It’s much nicer than his smug arsehole face.

“No,” I chuckle. “But it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Especially if your former enemy shows up drunk and bleeding.”

Thoughts start racing through my head. Horrible, nervous thoughts. I stop wrapping his hand for a moment, but quickly start again. Unfortunately, Baz notices.

“Something on your mind, Snow?” he asks.

I chew on my bottom lip as I secure the bandage. I gesture for Baz to give me his other hand, and he does. I slowly pat on the antiseptic and he doesn’t move at all. Slowly, I look up, and I meet Baz’s deep sea eyes. He doesn’t look mad or annoyed, just concerned. So am I.

“Baz,” I sigh, “you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And considering you’re a bloody doctor now, I doubt that’s changed. So I’m absolutely astounded at how you could get so drunk and end up in a bar fight.”

Baz’s thin lips press together, and I watch his throat bob in a gulp. He leans his elbow on the sink, propping his cheek on his fist. “Snow,” he says slowly, “what do you know about my mother?”

My blood turns ice cold. I stop with the bandage completely, just looking at Baz. “Uh, not much. I know she died a long time ago. And...it was at Watford...”

Baz nods slowly. “Yes, that’s what everyone knows. But what most people don’t know is that I was there.”

And now my heart completely stops. My mouth falls open slightly. Baz’s face stays completely neutral. “You...you were there?”

“Yeah.” He leans harder on his fist. “I was sitting with the rest of the kids in the Watford nursery. Suddenly a group of men with knives burst in. They started to come after the nannies and the children. But that’s when my mother showed up with her hunting rifle. My father insisted she have it for protection when he wasn’t there. She got all of the men immediately, including the one holding me. She hit him in the shoulder so he dropped me. Another man charged her while she was distracted, and she shot him in the chest, but not before...” Baz rubs his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like I do when I have a headache. “Not before he stabbed her in the neck. She bled to death in seconds.” He drags his hand down his face. “I fell unconscious after that. When I woke up, my father and aunt were tending to my wounds, and my mother was gone. I was young, it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember enough.”

I’m left in stunned silence. Baz doesn’t say anything either, just rubbing his head. He’s not crying, but he looks on the verge of tears. I don’t blame him. I can’t believe it, can’t believe Baz went through that and no one ever knew. It’s just terrible.

“Wow,” I finally say, “that’s...wow.”

Baz chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I never knew that happened...”

“No one did, Snow. All the gruesome little details were kept under wraps. It would’ve been terrible if anyone found out Natasha Grimm-Pitch died in such an undignified way that traumatized her heir.”

His voice is mockingly scathing, even with his slightly slurred speech. He’s a mix between furious and mournful. I don’t understand how he feels, but I don’t think I ever could. I may never have had parents, but that’s a far cry from watching your’s die.

“I don’t know how much it means, but I’m sorry that happened to you Baz.”

The corner of his lip quirks up into a small half smile. “Thanks, Snow.”

I start wrapping his hand again, and my brow furrows. “So, uh, what does this have to do with you getting drunk and fighting? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Baz takes a deep inhale through his nose, and lets out the air through his mouth. “My mother was killed twenty years ago today.”

“O-oh. That...yeah, that makes sense.”

“Mhm. I’ve lived with it for most of my life, but this anniversary hit me harder than I expected. I had my first day off in months, so after some mindless telly, I went to that bar. Gave the bartender my card and told her to keep the tequila coming. First mistake.”

“Second one was getting in a fight?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He flexes his bandaged hand. “It was just some arsehole looking for trouble. He kept prodding at me and shoving my shoulder until I snapped. I don’t even remember what he said. I was just so angry and sad and drunk. And that arsehole was right there” He groans loudly and rubs his head. “One of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Probably. But you made one good choice.”

“Oh?”

I finish bandaging his other hand and smile at his mopey face. “You called me.”

His mopeyness melts away as he lets out a breathy laugh. Our eyes meet, and his are glinting in a way I’ve never seen before. “Yeah, I guess that was a good idea.”

We smile at each other. Something tugs in my chest, something I don’t fully understand. I’ve never felt anything like this. Maybe I’m just overtired.

Baz flexes his bandaged hands. I put the first aid kit under the sink again. Baz stands and presses a hand to his bruised eye. hissing between his teeth. “Got any ice packs, Snow?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply. “It’s in the kitchen, c’mon.”

We walk towards the kitchen. I open the freezer and pull out my reusable ice pack. Teaching a bunch of children can result in some bad headaches. I wrap it in a napkin and hand it to Baz. He presses it to his eye with clenched teeth. As he leans back against the counter, I remember he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Uh,” I say, “those jeans don’t look comfortable. I’ve got some spare pyjamas. Want me to get them?”

Baz nods. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

“Alright, stay here.”

I go to my bedroom, wading through the laundry I have to do tomorrow to get to the dresser. It takes awhile for me to find something that will probably fit Baz. Damn his extra four inches, always so infuriating. I eventually pick out some trackies and a long Chicago Cubs shirt. It’s all I’ve got. I go back to the kitchen, and come upon a strange scene.

“Baz,” I say slowly, “what are you doing?

Baz looks up from the messy, cutlery covered counter, still pressing the ice pack to his eye. He lifts a plate with two pieces of bread, both half covered in marmite. “Making a marmite and cheese sandwich. You want half?”

His expression is so innocent, not a hint of the old malice I used to know. I let out a sigh. “Sure. Let me get the cheese.”

He grins and goes back to slathering on marmite. I pull my sliced sandwich cheese from the fridge. Hope Baz doesn’t mind cheap Tesco brand swiss. I bring the package to the counter, and Baz takes out a slice without even looking. Guess he’s not as snobbish about food as he used to be. He cuts the sandwich into two slightly lopsided triangles and swans out to my dining room. I follow behind with the pyjamas.

Baz sits in a chair, leaning back with his legs spread out. I sit across from him, placing the clothes on the table. Baz snatches it. It unfolds and his brows pull together.

“You a baseball fan now, Snow?” he asks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah. Micah definitely is though.”

“Who?”

“Remember that American exchange student from fourth year?”

“The short nerd with large glasses?” His voice is muffled as he struggles to put on the shirt. Drunk Baz doesn’t get along with t-shirt holes.

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe him I guess. He and Penny started dating then and have been together ever since. She lives in America with him now.”

Baz’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s wonderful. How is Bunce? I miss facing off with her in debate club.”

“She’s doing well. She’s got a job as an assistant professor in Chicago and loves American food. I just saw her a few weeks ago on vacation.”

“Marvelous. Tell her I say hello next time you speak to her.”

“Will do.” We both take one half of the marmite-cheese sandwich. Baz takes a huge bite, followed by a happy groan. I can’t tell if he’s drunk hungry or actually hungry. Probably somewhere in between. I take a bite as well. There’s far too much marmite, but it’s four in the morning. Right now anything tastes good.

Thinking of Penny makes me think of Watford. And something else, or more accurately someone else, pops into my head.

“Hey,” I say through the marmite, “you said you talked to Agatha earlier. How are you two still in contact? She cut off almost everyone after Watford. I didn’t start talking to her again until a year ago.”

Baz quickly chews and swallows. “Funny story there. I did a semester abroad in California and ended up in the same biology class as Agatha. It was extremely awkward at first. But once we sat down over coffee and sorted stuff out, we bonded very quickly. Similar upper class British family problems and expectations.”

“Oh. That’s makes sense I guess. It’s nice you guys talk.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He chuckles, mouth gummed with marmite. “The weirdest part was telling her I’m gay. I apologised for leading her on, and you know what she did?”

I lean over the table, genuinely enraptured. “What?”

“Laughed her fucking arse off for ten minutes straight.”

I snort so hard I nearly shoot sandwich out my nose. Baz throws his head back laughing. He’s so loud he might disturb my neighbours, but I don’t care. His laugh is too incredible.

“Just like that,” he giggles, calming down.

“So she wasn’t mad?” I ask.

“No, not at all. She admitted she wasn’t really into me. She was just rebelling against her parents. We both sympathised on that front.” He sighs and leans back even more. “That’s all I wanted at Watford, really. I was under so much pressure to be the perfect son. I seriously considered yelling ‘fuck it’ and doing whatever I wanted.”

I sigh too, putting my cheek against my palm. “Yeah, I understand that. Mr. Mage put a lot of pressure on me. He wanted to prove to the Watford board that scholarship students were worthwhile, and since I was Watford’s very first scholarship kid, I had to be perfect. Every time I got a low grade he would yell at me for an hour.”

“What a prick,” Baz grumbles.

I chuckle as I nod slowly. “Yeah, total prick. Watford wasn’t an easy place to be.”

Baz slowly lowers his sandwich, looking pointedly at the plate, and therefore not me. My heart speeds up. Did I say something wrong? Did I piss him off by accident? I do that a lot. And I definitely used to do that to Baz.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t mean to pry,” he says carefully. “And maybe this is me still being pretty drunk. But...I saw something in your medicine cabinet.”

I squint, trying to think what could be so concerning. “Saw what?”

He fiddles with his still damp hair. It’s an old nervous habit I recognise from finals studying. “A bottle of citalopram. I’m a future psychiatrist, I know what that medication is usually for...”

My stomach drops out. I freeze with the sandwich still in my hand. “Oh,” I squeak.

“Yeah.” He leans closer, eyes round and sympathetic. “I’m sorry I looked. And...I’m sorry if I had any part in your need for it-”

“No no, Baz.” I shake my head, leaning forward as well. “You don’t have to. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s in particular, really. It’s stupid chemicals misfiring in my brain. You’re a doctor, you know that.”

“Yes, of course I know that, Snow. But I also know my incessant arsehole behaviour for seven years probably didn’t help.”

I shrug, leaning back again. “Probably. And I bet me insulting you and punching you in the face all the time didn’t help your mental health either.”

He smiles and laughs again. He looks better when he laughs. “Okay, good point.”

“Exactly. So let’s agree neither of us need to apologise. We’ll let the past be the past, move on from here.”

“So you mean a truce?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I reach out my hand. “Truce.”

Baz smiles and clasps his hand with mine. His skin is just as rough and cold as I remember it being back at school. But even after we pull apart, my skin still feels warm.

“Just so we’re even,” Baz says with his mouthful, “my favourite antidepressant was cipralex. I went off it a few months ago because it started making me too drowsy, but it worked well for years. Citalopram made me far too ill. When I first tried it, I ended up vomiting in a bloody bedpan.”

I burst out laughing. And Baz’s grin outshines the sun.

We finish our sandwiches together. Baz complains that his mouth tastes like a rubbage heap. Apparently the combination of old tequila, Tesco cheese, and marmite creates a truly awful flavour. I give him an unused toothbrush from the dentist. He goes into the bathroom and soon emerges with clean teeth and wearing my trackies. I’m back on the couch with Cherry in my lap.

“You tired?” I ask.

“Not really,” Baz replies. “Late hospital shifts have turned me into an insomniac.”

“Wanna watch some Dr. Who?”

He throws himself down next to me, long arm stretched out over the back of the couch behind me. “Sure.”

I switch to a new episode. It’s a standalone, so Baz won’t be too confused. But he still asks incessant questions. Who’s this, what’s that, how the everloving fuck can they do that and survive? No wonder he’s a doctor. He’s perfect at looking for answers, no matter how annoying he is. Eventually I have to threaten to duct tape his mouth to get him to shut up. He huffs, crosses his arms, and sinks down further.. His head ends up on my shoulder. Despite my shorter neck length and Baz’s naturally long face, his head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck. Like it was made to be there. Wait, where did that thought come from?

The credits roll, and I notice a quiet whistling noise. I turn my head to the side. Oh. Baz is asleep. His eyes are softly closed and his lips are slightly parted. I’ve seen Baz sleep before of course, but this is different. Baz had nightmares throughout our entire time at Watford. (So did I.) I don’t think he’s having one now though. There’s no thrashing or whimpers. I’ve never seen Baz look so...peaceful.

“Baz,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond at all. “Baz,” I say louder, jerking my shoulder a bit.

“Ugh,” he groans, “let me sleep in, Daphne, it’s summer.”

“I’m not your step-mum, Baz.”

He cracks one eye open. “No, you’re really not, Snow.”

“Yeah. You wanna go to bed?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Okay.” I slowly get up, easing Baz off my shoulder. I gently lower him onto the couch. The bottom half of his face hangs off the arm. Yeah, he’s going to need a pillow. I go to my bedroom and grab a pillow and blanket. I also make a stop by the bathroom for some aspirin and make another at the kitchen for some water and a bowl, in case he’s sick. I would prefer not to clean vomit out of my carpet.

Baz is still awkwardly pressed against the sofa arm, drooling slightly. Who would’ve thought I’d see the day Baz Pitch drooled in his sleep? I wouldn’t have. Not in a million years. But apparently tonight is a time for new things.

I place the bowl, water, and aspirin on my coffee table. Slowly and carefully, I lift Baz’s head and fit a pillow under it. I drape the blanket over his annoyingly tall body. His arm hangs like a limp noodle off the side. I sigh, kneeling down to tuck it back in.

Out of nowhere, I feel long, rough fingers touching my cheek. My whole body locks up in shock. Slowly, I raise my head, and I meet Baz’s half open grey eyes and soft smile.

“Uh, Baz?” I say, not sure what else I can.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers. My eyes widen and every nerve in my body is filled with...something? Fear, nerves, an absolute sense of what the fuck? I can’t tell.

“W-What?”

Baz’s hand moves lower. His thumb traces just under my bottom lip. Why does my skin feels like it’s fire? “Your face, it’s still really pretty.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, I guess you’d know. You punched it enough.”

He laughs softly. His hand falls, pulling back under the blanket, and his eyes slip shut. “Wish I had kissed it instead.”

I don’t even have time to respond to that, because Baz is asleep in an instant, snoring quietly once again. I’m frozen in place. My jaw is slack. Baz would tell me I’m going to catch flies. Baz, who’s sleeping right in front of me, who wished he had kissed me? My brain can’t process this. I’m like a computer with an eternal blue screen. This does not compute, cannot compute, fuck fuck fuck.

There’s only one thing I can think to do.

I grab my phone, rush to my room, and close the door. Cherry is already curled up on her side. The second I’m sitting on the mattress, I click Penny’s contact.

“Hello?” Her voice immediately calms me down.

“Hi, Pen,” I say.

“Simon?! Bloody hell, isn’t it like four in the morning in London?”

I look over at my clock. “Uh, yup, just about.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are calling me at four AM?”

I sigh and flop backwards. “Pen, you’re not going to believe who is sleeping in my living room right now.”

“Who? The Doctor? Boris Johnson? The Queen of England>

A laugh bubbles from my mouth. “Nah, even weirder.”

I can almost hear Penny’s face pinching together in confusion. “Who?”

“Baz Pitch.”

She gasps loudly. “What?! As in Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch? That Baz Pitch?!”

“You think there’s another Baz Pitch in existence?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “good point. So why is your arsehole former roommate sleeping on your couch?”

I rub the bridge of my nose. It doesn’t help. I’m not sure anything can help now. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

I sigh, and start spinning my insane tale. From the call to the bar to my flat, how Baz and I talked and became friendly and made a weird truce over cheese and marmite. I try to say everything quickly yet accurately. Penny barely makes a noise as I talk. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or contemplative. Probably both, honestly. I can’t blame her. The more I talk, the more completely nuts it all sounds. I’m living in a bloody sitcom.

“And then,” I say, “he held my face, said I was beautiful, and that he wished he had kissed me instead of punching me!”

“Wow,” Penny gasps. “That’s...a lot.”

“I know right? I’m so confused and I have no idea what the fuck to do!”

“Okay. What do you want to do though?”

I rub my very aching brow. “I don’t know, Pen. It’s so weird. Like, is this something he’s just realised or has Baz always felt this way?”

“Probably the second one.”

I bolt upright, brows knitted together. “Wait, really? You think so?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“But why?!”

“Well, Baz has always been very obsessed with you. He would go out of his way to be around you.”

“Yeah, to torment me,” I grumble.

Penny lets out a sigh. “Yes, he did. But as you told me, Baz said he picked on you because he couldn’t deal with his emotional issues. One of those issues certainly could have been romantic feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t he just say something?!”

“Because he was the gay son of a conservative upper class British family, which probably wasn’t easy to deal with. Plus, his father and aunt hated the idea of scholarship students, also known as you.”

My righteous anger fizzles out like a dying campfire, shoulders slumping as I fall back against the headboard. “Oh. Yeah, that’s a good point. Still shouldn’t have been a snob and a bully.

“No he shouldn’t have. It was probably half poor coping and half trying to get your attention.”

“Like a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a stupid and sexist way to handle a crush. I tell my students that all the time.”

Penny sighs. “Yeah, of course it is. But I’m pretty sure Baz knows that, at least now. He’s sorry for what he did. It seems like he’s gotten a lot better.”

“Yeah.” A smile creeps across my face without thinking. It just feels natural. “He’s gotten a lot nicer. He’s not the perfect, pretty, unfeeling arsehole I thought he was. And he’s funny, at least when he’s drunk. We had a pretty great time .”

I laugh quietly, but Penny’s is far louder. She sounds like she’s muffling her giggles. I frown a bit. “What’s so funny, Pen?”

“Oh,” she keeps giggling, “I think I’ve just realised something, and it’s hilarious.”

“Realised what?”

She takes a few deep calming breaths while my anxiety just climbs. “Simon,” she says kindly. This is the way she used to speak while explaining our complicated maths homework. “Hear me out, but I don’t think Baz is the only one who feels something.”

“Huh?”

“I think you have at least a few romantic feelings for Baz.”

“What?!” I shout far too loudly, and I worry I’m going to wake up Baz. I crouch inward, like I’m hiding, but I’m not really sure what. Baz? Penny? Myself?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss.

“Hear me out,” Penny says. “I’m saying that based on the evidence, you may have latent romantic feelings for Baz Pitch.”

“What evidence?!”

Penny lets out a low chuckle, like a super villain who’s plan has come to fruition. “Let’s see. Number one: back at Watford, you spent 99% of your time thinking about, talking about, or being with Baz. I had to put a limit on how much you were allowed to talk about Baz, remember?”

“Yeah, because he was bugging me,” I mumble.

“Number two: when you talked about Baz, it was always about how annoyingly pretty, smart, and graceful he was. You hated him, yet you had so many nice things to say.”

“Well he was perfect and it was annoying!”

“Number three: During the entire time you dated Agatha, you paid far more attention to Baz than you ever did to her.”

“T-That’s not true!” Though, looking back...fucking hell, it might actually be true.

“Number four: even though you hadn’t seen him in seven years, you dropped everything at two AM to go pick up his drunk arse from a bar.”

“It was the right thing to do!”

“Number five: you just gushed about how much you like Baz now and that he’s fun to be around. And I bet you were smiling.”

“No.” I think my cheeks are turning red.

I hear some rustling, and I think Penny is leaning forward in her chair. I can almost see her kind face in front of me. “Simon, I don’t want to push anything on you, but I also want you to really think about this. I know you hate to analyse things but it’s necessary right now. Maybe it could lead to something good.”

I tug on my hair, trying to distract myself. “I don’t know about that, Pen.”

“I know. Doesn’t even have to be romantic, maybe a good friendship. You could use more friends. And I’m not saying you have to jump his bones tomorrow.”

“Penny!” Now I’m definitely blushing.

She laughs uncontrollably, snorting every once in awhile. I cover my blushing face and groan. “Oh, I’m only joking, Si,” she says. “But I’m serious, don’t shut it down. Think about it. Baz is nice now, maybe it could work.”

“Why are you so desperate to set me up with my former enemy?”

“Because you haven’t been on a date or made new friends since first year uni. And I haven’t heard you this happy about being around someone in years.”

I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I’ve had more fun with Baz in one night than I have in ages. I enjoyed talking to him. I enjoyed laughing with him. I’m glad he’s asleep in the next room, where I can make sure he’s okay.

“You may have a point,” I say.

“Of course I do.”

I roll my eyes, just like she does. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve always known you’re smarter than me.”

“Mhm. And in my smart opinion, you need to go to bed.”

“Will do.” I flop backwards. The pillow feels heavenly on my head. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You better. Night, Si.”

I smile, and I hope she can hear my love and gratitude over the phone. “Night, Pen.”

The phone clicks off. I let it fall to the side. I am 0.2 seconds from passing out, even with so much still on my mind. I plug in my phone and turn on my side. I pull Cherry close to me. She curls around my hand like usual. When I close my eyes, all I see is raven hair, deep sea grey eyes, and a smile I never knew was there before.

———————————————

“Bloody fucking shit!”

I wake up with a start, clutching my sheet. Late morning sunlight is bleeding through the gap in my curtains. There’s muffled banging on the other side of my door. It’s like a very clumsy little rhino is moving through my flat. But I know exactly who it is.

I grab my glasses and slowly walk down the hall, peeking around the corner. It’s weird to sneak around my own apartment. I see a familiar long, lithe back, bent over as he struggles to get his struggles to get his oxfords on. He keeps wavering side to side like a branch in the wind.

“Good morning,” I say nonchalantly.

Baz whips around so fast he nearly topples over, stumbling to the side. He looks even more disheveled than last night, hair extremely tangled from sleeping on it wet, bruise worsening under his eyes, and bloodstained shirt buttoned wrong. He looks absolutely shocked to see me, which is odd, considering this is my flat.

“Um,” he says, shakiness in my voice, “good morning, Snow.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“Uh, well, yes, I suppose.”

I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. “So you were going to go and what? Leave me a thank you note like some bad teen movie?”

He probably thinks I don’t notice, but I see him crumple up and shove something in his back pocket. “No. I-I would’ve texted you my thanks.”

“Because that’s so much better.”

Baz looks down in shame, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...I didn’t want to make things awkward after last night. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted and imposing on you.”

“It’s okay.” I walk forward, hands in my trackie pockets. “I know you were pretty drunk, but, what do you remember from last night?”

Baz looks up, but still doesn’t meet my eyes. “I remember, being upset, going to the bar, getting in the fight, and the bartender screaming colourful obscenities at me.” That makes him laugh a little. It still sounds so nice. “Then I called you, you came and you had glasses. We drove to your place. I had a shower. You tended to my wounds like some war nurse.”

I giggle, nodding in complete agreement. “Yeah, I definitely did do that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Then uh, we ate sandwiches, watched Doctor Who, and I assume I fell asleep.”

“Okay.” I draw out the last syllable on purpose, making my doubt extremely clear. “That’s most of it, but you’re missing a few key parts.”

“Am I?” He’s trying to sound confident, but I know Baz, and I can hear a waver in his voice.

I start walking closer. “Mhm. You’re missing the parts where you apologized for being a prick in school, called my flat was good, liked my cat, said you drank because it was the anniversary of your mother’s horrible death, talked about your experience with antidepressants.” I’m only a few feet away from him now, looking him right in his pretty. “And, the part where you said that you wished you had kissed me back at school instead of punching me.”

With his complexion, it’s hard to tell when Baz is blushing. But I can see it. Scarlet creeps down from his cheeks to his long neck, eyes locked on me in stun.

“Oh,” he squeaks. “I see.”

“You really don’t remember all that?”

He rubs his brow. “Well, maybe, it’s just...fuzzy.”

“But was it true? Did you like me back at Watford?”

He visibly gulps, then looks at the floor again. He looks incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. “Yes,” he says, like he has to force himself to say it. “Yes, it’s true.”

I let out a long breath, half from relief, half to calm myself down. Okay. It’s true. Baz had feelings for me. All through school, all that time, Baz was pining after me from afar. And I never knew. Not a bit. But I think that was the idea.

“Alright,” I say.

Baz lifts his eyes slightly, cocking one eyebrow. “Alright? Is that all you have to say?”

I shrug high then drop my shoulders low. “I don’t know what else to say. That’s all. It changes a lot of things I assumed in school.”

“I bloody well hope so.” His voice is lighter, trying to lift the mood, trying to make this even slightly less than horribly awkward.

“So,” I say drawing out the o, “when, uh, did it start? You feeling like...that.”

If Baz’s blush could get any worse, I think it just did. He plays with his sleeves, his buttons, his hair, obviously looking for a distraction. “I realised it when I was 15. But I think, it started almost since we met.”

That hits me hard. The first year we met, I wore ratty old clothes and was essentially nonverbal. Baz saw me like that, a dirty silent little orphan kid, and he already liked me. He didn’t show it, but only because he couldn’t. He cared about me, even then. Even when so few truly did.

“Huh,” I say stupidly. “That’s a long time.”

He lets out a scoffing chuckle. “No shit, Snow.”

“That makes me feel even more sorry for being a prick to you in school.”

Baz shakes his head very quickly. “No, no, don’t apologize. I was a prick to you first. I just...” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “In my family, I wasn’t supposed to be gay, let alone have feelings for someone they hated. I lashed out and hurt you because I was hurting. It was wrong.”

He sighs and sits down heavily on the couch. He looks so forlorn and ashamed, head hanging forward, his hair like a curtain. All the guilt seems to be pushing down on his shoulders, making him slump. Penny was right, as usual. But to hear it from Baz, to see him like this, it tugs on my heart. Like that time I caught him drunk in front of his mother’s grave when we were fifteen, or twice last night. He’s grown a lot and gotten happier, but a small part of Baz is still that sad kid, I guess.

Slowly, I walk towards him and sit down. Before I can think too much, I reach out and touch his hand. Baz’s head snaps up, completely terrified and shocked. Yet, he doesn’t pull away. One by one, I slip my fingers between his. Baz’s skin is such a strange contrast. My palm touches the smooth back of his hand, while fingers trace tiny rough ridges. It feels...really good.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I know it’s been awhile, but what do you think about me now?”

I look him in the eye. I can see the way his lips shift, feel how his hand twitches. I wish I could hear what he’s thinking right now. He stays silent, so I decide to jump in.

“Well, let me start. I know what I think about you. I think,” I move closer, “that you’re kind, funny, smart, and still annoyingly gorgeous.” That makes his eyes widen ever so slightly. “And now I also know that you’re incredibly strong. That you struggled and mourned and came out okay. I mean, you’re a bloody doctor who’s going to help people work through their own problems. That’s amazing.”

Baz looks so shocked, probably both at my words and my coherency. I’ve gotten a lot better at speaking over the years. I’m so glad for that right now. “You really think all that, Snow?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always found you annoyingly amazing. Now it’s just not so annoying anymore.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?”

Baz presses his lips together for a split second. “Honestly, yes. We hated each other for years, fought like cats and dogs. I assumed I had ruined any chance of that changing.”

“Well,” I move even closer so our thighs press together, “you didn’t. Because I like this.”

“What is this?”

“This!” I gesture wildly between us. “What we’re doing right now. I like this, I like you.”

He looks so shocked, yet there’s a twinkle of happiness too. “Like me how? As...a friend?”

And he calls me oblivious. I squeeze his hand again. “That depends. I know it’s been a long time, so have your...feelings about me gone away?”

Baz stares at me, studying my face. I just watch his eyes roam over me again and again. Then he reaches forward and delicately places his hand on my cheek, just like last night. Except it feels more purposeful. And so much better.

“No,” he says quietly, “they haven’t gone away. I don’t think they ever could.”

My body feels so light and happy and indescribably full. I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone. It’s hit me so suddenly, yet it feels so right. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning.

“Okay,” I say. “I feel the same.”

Baz’s hand falls, touching my arm. He raises a perplexed eyebrow. “Okay, but since when?”

I shrug, which makes Baz roll his eyes. “I’m not sure. All I know is that I do. That’s what really matters, right?”

He sighs. His hand moves up and down my arm. I can’t tell if he’s studying me or trying to hold on. “I suppose, yes.”

“Exactly. So why don’t we give it a shot?”

“What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” Baz’s lips falls open and hand slips slightly down my arm. I hold onto him tighter. “Like, fair warning, I’m not a great boyfriend. I forget things, I’m super clumsy, and I haven’t dated anyone seriously since Agatha, so my experience is limited. But I like you. And I’m not asking for something serious right now, I just want to give this a try. Do you maybe want to?”

Baz’s face is such strange, confusing mixture. His brows are tense and pulled together. They scream worry and doubt. His thin beautiful lips hang open is absolute disbelief. But his eyes, a mix of dark blue and dark green, are filled to the brim with hope.

“I’m a doctor,” he blurts out.

“Um, yeah, I know,” I reply, trying not to laugh.

He shakes his head violently. “No, you don’t understand. I’m a medical resident. I’m at the hospital almost every day. I have barely any free time, and if I do I use it to sleep. And I don’t have much experience either. I’ve had two semi serious relationships that both ended in flames. I’m terrible at everything relationship related, probably even more than you, Snow.”

Baz looks so frantic and scared, but he’s hanging on to my hand. In spite of harsh realities, he doesn’t want to let go. I think he’s expecting me to admit defeat and walk away. But what he doesn’t seem to get, is that I don’t want to let go either.

I move closer, and cup his face this time. Baz instinctively leans into it. “You called me Simon before.”

He lets out a bursting laugh, sudden and unwanted. He immediately calms down, but there’s a little smile there. “Really? That’s what you care about?”

“Yeah. Because I like hearing you say it, and I like this. So,” I squeeze his hand again, “I want to try, no matter the risks. We’ll just deal with the rest later.”

He gives me a doubtful expression. “That’s your solution? Put off thinking about the problems we may face?”

“Yup. Because I want this, you want this, and that’s all that matters.”

“I guess...”

Stupid bastard still overthinks everything. I don’t want his mind far away, I want it right here with me. I brush my thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “Plus, I’d rather focus on other things right now.”

“Oh? What things?”

“Well, more a question.” I deliberately move my hand lower, tracing under his bottom lip. “You said you wished you had kissed me when we were in school.”

He gulps. I watch his Adam’s apple bob slowly. “Yes, I did.”

“So, do you still want to kiss me?”

His eyes flick down, just for a moment. I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Yes.”

I smile, leaning close so our noses brush. “Then do it.”

Baz doesn’t ask for anymore assurance. He just leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine. And my mind completely implodes.

His lips are colder than Agatha’s, than anyone’s really. It’s like kissing a soft autumn breeze. Just chilly enough to send shivers over your skin. Yet when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, I melt completely, leaning closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. He clutches my sides, hanging on with a death grip. Like he never wants to let me go. (I wouldn’t mind that.) It’s an awkward position, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I run my hand through his hair. It’s soft and slips through my fingers, just like I thought it would. I clench my fist and push his face into mine. I more feel him groan than hear it. He bunches my shirt in his own fists. I like him here, under my hands, not off being sad or drunk, where I know he’s okay. I’ve got you know, Baz, I’m not letting go.

From that first press of our lips, I know I want this. Baz feels perfect and wonderful. I want to kiss him forever. It’s strange, to have something you never knew you wanted before, and suddenly need to hang onto it forever.

We both pull apart at relatively the same time, flushed and out of breath. Baz’s eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown incredibly huge, and his lips are swollen and pink. I think mine are too, at least it feels like they are. I’ve never felt so elated from just one kiss. I’m sure I never will again.

“Wow,” I breathe out.

Baz lets out a breathy laugh, so quiet and sweet. “Very eloquent.”

I chuckle too, twisting a strand of his hair. “Yeah, well, that’s all I can manage right now. I think you broke my brain.”

“Don’t stroke my ego too much, Snow. I’ll get a big head.”

“You mean a bigger one?”

Baz glares, but when I flash one grin, his entire face melts. My heart melts too. It’s in a goddamn puddle on the floor forever.

Baz presses one hand to his temple, eyes squinting shut. “Bloody hell, all the drinking and excitement is too much for my head.”

“Did you take the aspirin I left?”

“Yes, but apparently that only does so much. I want coffee.”

“I’ve got some. Probably not very fancy, but it’s good enough. That alright?”

He flashes a lopsided grin. It’s incredibly sweet, making me smile in return. “That would be wonderful, Simon.”

God, I want to hear him say my name like that a thousand times.

We reluctantly untangle ourselves, but our hands stay linked. I lead Baz to my tiny dining room table. He sits on the far side, facing the open space of my kitchenette. My hand drags across his as we reluctantly let go. I walk into the room and flip on my ancient coffee machine.

“How do you take your coffee?” I say over my shoulder. “Black?”

“Actually, I like a lot of cream and sugar.”

I laugh loudly and smile at him. “Still have a sweet tooth, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Of course. I still remember how you would steal my mint aeros.”

“You have no proof of that, Snow,” he singsongs.

His voice is light and joking. I look over my shoulder, and see his soft smile. I want to see that smile all the time. I want to find out every little happy expression he has, the ones I never got to see when we were kids.

“I’ll find some,” I reply..

“It’ll take a lot of coaxing.”

I lean against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him. Baz Pitch, the former arsehole bully, now the mostly well adjusted altruistic doctor, still someone who can occupy most of my thoughts. This is all new yet so familiar.

“Good thing we’ve got time,” I say.

Baz leans his cheek on his palm. From his calm, happy expression, I know he agrees. We’ve got time to not just catch up, but start something strange and beautiful and new.

And I’ve never been so excited in my life.

———————————————

AN: Is this a bit unrealistic? Yes. Is this super adorable? Also yes. Hope you guys thought the same. I def enjoy writing drunk Baz and switching it up so Simon has glasses this time. And I like Simon's total obliviousness to his own feelings. He's a dumb romantic little shit lol. Thanks for reading, see y'all next time :D

PS: XOYO is a real bar. Hopefully they don't have to deal with drunk traumatized psychiatry residents too much lol.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #normal au #reunion #enemies to friends to lovers #getting together #mysnowbazfic

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sgnsian · 5 years ago

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so i am dead tired and have 2 be up in a couple of hours for a work meeting kill me but hi!!! this is my girl sian and she is ??? a pleasant mess and a half but she’s just out here trying to find out who she really is, u know??? anywho here’s her about and i have her bio over here and i don’t have a plot page yet, but let me rest and i’ll come up with that real quick! hit the like button and i’ll come to you tomorrow with ideas and love! and a bit of crappy plots below the cut!!

dahlia girls help her out with her confidence because it’s all a lie

cheer squad girls too!!! tiger radio she’s begging for a show why won’t they give to her

she was even more of a mess her /actual/ freshman year so exes/flings/ all that good stuff

fans??? even though she would like to forget her being in idol even happened but she has to keep up appearances u know

haters!! give us some haters!!! watch her attempt to change herself u can like her more ... or maybe she doesn’t like u too!!

she lives at lim village b/c it’s legit close 2 the food so who’s gonna be her uber eats and bring her things at 2am

uhhh i’ll come up with more later, i’m brain dead atm

#♡ ╱ ooc *

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itsnicetohavealoverr · 5 years ago

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Really obnoxiously long explanation of my time as a Swifite:

The first Taylor song I ever heard was “Our Song” when I was in 5th grade and my friend wanted to learn guitar and showed me a video of the song. I was hooked.

Fast forward, Fearless is released and You Belong With Me is an ANTHEM among us middle schoolers. We’d sing it at every school dance, we made up our own routines to it, and we loved pretending it was about our own crushes.

My mom bought me the Fearless CD and we listened to it NONSTOP in the car together. For Christmas that year, my mom got me Fearless Tour tickets and I was SO SO SO HAPPY. And the same year, my (now deceased) aunt bought me the debut CD so I could learn every song and prepare for the concert. My aunt and cousins were from Tennessee and my cousin Mitch is the same age as Taylor and actually knows the kid who Tim McGraw was written about!!!

Fearless Tour was incredible and I waited anxiously for her next album. I was one of the few swifties who probably remember signing up for Taylor Nation alerts via text when the number came up on the Jumbotron at the Fearless tour 😂

I was one of the swifties on the Speak Now announcement live stream and I SQUEALED when Taylor’s face popped up on my computer.

For Speak Now release week, my mom took me and my best friend to the TODAY show at 2am to see Taylor perform. I hoped and prayed that she would come say hi to us in the back of the crowd, but no such luck.

For the Speak Now Tour, a few of my friends and all of our moms and I went together and tailgated and drew 13s on our hands. We danced and screamed the whole time. Some of my friends were being rude and clique-y that day but I had seats with my BEST friend and her mom and sisters and we had such a good time together it was amazing.

When RED was announced, I was on vacation with my cousins and I think we blasted WANEGBT for the entire week, 24 hours a day. We even made a cute little music video for it 😂😂😂

I begged my mom to take me to release week for RED, but her one sister had just passed away from breast cancer and the other had just died in a car accident and she couldn’t take off any more work :( I was so devastated but I totally understood where she was coming from. It was a hard year for all of us.

RED Tour was the first tour I didn’t go to with my mom. The tickets were a birthday present and I got to go with a few of my best friends. We had such a good time and I think I cried during half of the show 😂

1989 was the era that really changed things for me. I of course tuned into the livestream and waited with anticipation for this album that became the soundtrack of my senior year of high school. My dad this time was the one who brought me and my best friend to GMA to watch Taylor perform during release week in Times Square. That was such a magical day. I couldn’t even believe it was real.

For 1989 Tour, my moms boyfriend upgraded me and my friends’ seats to floor seats as a graduation present to us. We got all dressed up for the show and when we got there, I was so incredibly sick with a bad case of salmonella that I spent most of the opening acts in the bathroom. I didn’t know if I would make it through the whole show. But when Taylor came on, my adrenaline kicked in and I stood up dancing and singing to every song and had string lights wrapped around my whole body to try to get Taylor’s attention. I was only a few rows away from the couple who got married at the show and I watched them get chosen for Loft ‘89!

Shortly after 1989 World Tour, my bf broke up with me and I had one of the hardest summers of my life. I struggled with depression and anxiety and I decided to make a tumblr so I could try to connect with Taylor because I had heard how she helped so many fans through this site.

I ended up finding a community of people that helped get me through that tough time, even if I never got a Taylor notice.

I went to college and got a new boyfriend and he broke my heart shortly after. I spent hours on tumblr reading and watching Clean speeches and writing to Taylor hoping she might someday notice me.

I struggled for over a year. I almost committed suicide multiple times. I got mono and was ordered to bed rest for a week while I was also wallowing in my heartbreak and feeling lower than I’d ever felt. One particularly bad day, I was really wanting to end it all and Better Man was released. That song right there yanked me out of my dark place and let me know I wasn’t alone. I will forever be grateful for those words that Taylor wrote in that song.

I continued to struggle, I was turned on by my best friends and was mocked by my ex boyfriend. I was in another super super dark place when Reputation was released.

Look What You Made Me Do could not have been released at a better time. I was battling my own depression and anxiety, coping with my heartbreak, and being bullied by so many of my “friends”, and that song made me feel like a Bad Bitch and I felt I could rise from the ashes just like Taylor.

I had been saved yet again by Ms. Swift. I went to THREE reputation shows and poured my heart and soul into costumes and outfits. It was such an incredible era. I adopted a dog who saved my life. I found new love that made me feel like I was finally worth it. I was happy again! Truly, truly happy.

And now we are here at Lover. I already adore the few songs I’ve heard on the album. ME! is a wonderful reminder that we’re all a little messed up in our own ways but we’re ultimately unique and special and we should celebrate that. YNTCD is a great anthem for saying “F U Haters!” And The Archer helps me know that my insecurities and doubts are valid, that my anxiety can try to control my life, but that we can push past it and find someone really worth holding onto.

Taylor, this is a really long way to tell you how much I love you and how I always have and always will. You have saved me so many times and I want to thank you for making me feel less alone. I want so badly to hug you someday and tell you all of this, but for now I’m just so glad that we’re both in better places and have surrounded ourselves with people who care.

Thank you thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you buddy!!! @taylorswift @taylornation

#taylor swift #taylurking #i love you taylor #secret sessions #reputation #taylornation #reputation era #taylor swift 1989 #fearless #speak now #RED #LOVER

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somehelplesssoul-ithink · 6 years ago

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my 3am thoughts completely spilled out

well, its 2am and my boyfriend is sound asleep beside me. Isnt that exactly what us girls want? someone who treats you well and loves you literally sleeping like an angel right beside you?...-yes right? then why arnt i happy. ive been doing my own thing on my laptop for hours just trying to stay away because everything is frustrating me right now. hes a grown man but i dont feel like im dating one still. i love him with all my heart and hes so incredibly special to me but.. man i havent been myself at all recently. its like i can feel my body going through changes, my emotions changing, my reactions are different and i dont know why. i should be happy with no doubt in the world hes the one ... but i dont know how many more chances i should give him before i lose myself. or did that already happen?

im starting to worry about all the negative things ive heard, although we all have our haters right? but its soo weird, ive been having these visions into the future and all i see is myself looking deep into his eyes and holding back tears asking him how could he do this? but i dont get any farther then that and i dont know what this is really about but i have a very, very strong feeling im gonna get hurt. bad. he has my heart in his hands right now, but how do i trust someone i barely know? he has done absolutely nothing wrong but be himself and man, do i admire that and fall deeper everyday. looking at him get ready in the morning is breath taking and i definitely didnt have this feeling with my ex and i REALLY thought he was the one. so maybe this one is really something special

my mom always told me, and still does to this day that im going to go through 100,000 heart breaks before i truly found the one. Now at first i was very skeptical because my first boyfriend bradley was truly remarkable and i thought i was going to marry him, unfortunately i left him for personal reasons. then brandon came along... and he was very life changing. i spent years with him and felt things i never have before he was so different from my last relationship i thought i should try and hold onto this one forever, and yes i mean forever. well that recently changed and now im with my current one. so is it even worth it trying this young? because we clearly want different things right now. i just turned legal, i wanna party and be care free and he is 5 years older then me, totally finished his party stage and who is struggling to survive, he cant take care of himself and ive realized that fast. but im here now literally changing my life for someone elses sake.

that was my doubting coming out, it happens. but should it? i dont know anymore i love my boyfriend so much. it hurts not seeing him. yet, when im with him i get so upset. im so confused and frustrated i really need answers, although i already know what im gonna do. no matter what i have to stay with him and help him walk alittle longer, he deserves a fair chance.. we all do and i wanna be the one to take care of him in his hardest times. but theres only so long i can do it for too. i always took care of myself and did whats best for me but its different now, i dont do that much anymore. i do whats best for US and i want this relationship to succeed more then i want anything else in this entire world. im not kidding when i say hes special, im honestly shocked even now, thinking how in the world did i score this one. i forgot to mention HES BEAUTIFUL .. like the most sexiest sweetest men ive ever met. hes incredible... our bond and connection is whats really remarkable though, we are so alike maybe thats why he frustrates me so often.

i love him so much its hard to control myself sometimes. i just dont feel like i can talk to him about anything because i feel he plays the victim a lot. its always about his depression and how he feels but i dont think he has a single thought in his mind maybe im depressed too? i used to self harm in many ways and i still kind of do them to this day. i starting to be bulimic and he was alittle concerned when i told him but the next day, its like he totally forgot. he came to visit me at work, we ate sushi and immediately after i said “i felt sick” and what did i do? go to the bathroom to puke up my food. he still thinks nothing of it. unfortunately after that ive been craving anything that will alter my mind, well to prevent nights like this. alcohol, coke, molly, anything it is i will take it ... now that im writing this out im starting to understand the war im having with myself. maybe ill let him read this and he will understand what goes through my mind, or maybe ill delete the next day. whatever i do, i needed this and im gonna wake up tomorrow with a whole new perspective.

its now 3am and im feeling a little better but still confused. when i look over to my left, hes still sleeping there so quiet and peaceful and i still think nothing of it. i still want to listen to my music and spill my fucking heart out because i have lots more to say. but i find it really hard to put my thoughts into words sometimes thats a big reason why i listen to music so much.. it really speaks for me and takes so much off my mind. kind of like a high from music, almost the same high id get taking drugs to release myself. music is just another way of me doing that. but whats really awesome is he has a big interest for music too, and thats just another thing i love about him. we can sit for hours and just show each other music, now thats really special to me.

theres so many songs i found tonight that are really helping me connect with myself and the emotions im feelings right now. its almost like god wanted me to stay awake so i can learn about myself, find some cool songs and spill my heart and soul out so i can sit back and look at what the fuck im doing. thats the part im at right now, occasionally scrolling up and reading whatever the hell im writing. none of this is perfect and theres multiple errors but, my fingers are just typing whatever my mind is telling it to.. and i havent been able to write like this for a long time. so im taking for granted any time i have right now to just.. write

as the night goes on i can finally start to feel my eyelids slowly shutting and my brain is wanting to turn off, but im still so hurt i dont know whats going on with me, althought i do get bad sometimes. i guess this is what you call me getting bad is :/ im trying to restrain myself from grabbing the bottle because i almost bkacked out last night. but writing is so therapeutic i dont ever want to stop. and plus, why am i doing this while with my boyfriend? shouldnt i be cherrishing every little moment we have? or is that just the first stage of any relationship? who fucking knows. who knows anything anymore? because i dont. i dont know whats with relationships but majority dont end well, so why as us humans constantly create and live in relationships? oh this is know, because we crave attention and love. thats something i really need to be careful with not growing up with a father, being in dyer need of attention and protection. i used to give everyone who looks at me a chance. but that kept leaving me broken and pieces of my heart and soul were shattered between my feet. even my relationships were destroyed by my decisions. thats why im asking should i even bother anymore? am i the common demoninator in all my past failed lovers.. who knows?

but i think my time here is almost done. the more i watch him the more i wish i was sleeping beside him. but i know what to do now, because i truly am in love, i need not to let myself go, not be controlled and just be Meghan. because so far, im really liking the woman ive become so far which means i must of done something right

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starkerforlife6969 · 6 years ago

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This post is me replying to the lovely anons I got! But I didn't wanna spam anyone’s feed so it’s all down below in one mega post! Mwah x PS none of these are prompts, those would always be posted separately ;) so if you’re a prompter, just wait on me honeys i promise ill come through for you soon.

1) @janetpie1951: “i would kill everyone for sugar baby Peter. With No remorse.” and “Secretary Peter? Absolutely fucking perfect.”

We are the same, my love. Me too. I love that softboi so much i would pull a tony and just break everyone’s leg if they so much as looked at him the wrong way.

And thank you SO much, I was so scared no one would like the secretary Peter one because I found his character really hard to write as it was so OC, you know? So this put a huge smile on my face :)) x

2) I’m having mild social anxiety just typing this. I wanted to tell you how much I’ve been enjoying your writing. Especially the Mafia boss/sugar baby/bodyguard story line you’ve been posting. I can’t wait for the next part.

I cannot wait for Part 3, at the moment it’s just a few snippets because i need a few more ideas to tie it together, but i promise it’ll be up soon! And my precious thing, well done for typing it anyway!!! I know how you feel, but this made my day so thank you so much sugar xx

3) I wish I was brave enough to share my writing like you do. I'm really scared people will think I'm stupid or that I suck. I'm too shy to share much 🙈 How can someone get over that kind of fear?

Dude, if I could take you back to the first fic I ever wrote- I think it was Dramione? Or H2O, it was seriously just awful like wow oh my god. But the thing was- people were so nice. And dude, it was shit. I promise you, it really was. What i’m saying is- you are your own harshest critic, and that’s super cliche but it’s true. No one will judge your work the way you do. And the feeling when people are nice- oh god, it just- it’s worth the risk. No one is going to think youre stupid or you suck because you had the fucking moxie to create something in the first place. I know it’s hard to take that first leap- I was too young to truly comprehend how scary it was when I did it, but I know you can get there. Sometimes it’s nicest starting in a tiny little fandom because everyone is so supportive and you all know each other and you can build confidence that way- saying that, the starker fandom is by far the most supportive one i’ve ever been in (teen wolf a close second, but there can be some mean anons there who for some reason are obsessed with scott??? like i like him, but let’s chill out, sorry off topic) and there will be haters, but fuck them. I, personally, would read anything you wrote and i would never have anything negative to say. I might be like “dude could you put stuff into paragraphs cuz it’s hard to read a block of text on my phone” but that’s it- that’s the worst thing i would ever say. i’d be too busy being grateful that you’d written some glorious content.

It’s scary, my gorgeous darling, but you can get there. The more fic you read, the more confident you get, and soon you’ll get more confident in YOU. As long as YOU like your writing (which is one of the hardest things ever) it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

that being said, nothing wrong with shyness. It’s okay to keep it to yourself, sometimes it’s a private thing. Maybe tease us with a few snippets and when we all go insane and beg you for more, maybe then you’ll be encouraged ;)

4) OML I looooove that you link the other chapters in your series. It's awesome. Keep up the great work! I love your stories ❤️

Dude, thank you!!!! It’s super annoying to do but i always do it because i wish other users did it because it’s so hard scrolling through their whole blog to find a part 2 so thank you so much for appreciating it hahaha it honestly made my day.

5) Holy FUCK that mafia boss with sugar baby peter is my absolute favorite thing I have ever read in my existence. Thank you so much for writing it and blessing everyone who reads it 💕💕

Yeah you’re just the best and sweetest thing ever. You just are. End of.

6) I just spent the last several hours going through the starker tag on your blog and hot diggity damn are you good at writing these two.

that is one of the best ways to spend the day and I'm am so honoured you picked mine like ahhhhh i could dance and blush forever, thank you so much.

7) your mafia tonypetersteve was so good i just!!! I DONT HAVE WORDS it made me so emotional and it was perfect and just uGHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh thank you for writing it so muchhhhh - { holographic-starker }

dude- dude- dude, you are so lovely. THANK YOU FOR READING IT

8) Oh wow, your Mafia Boss Tony x Sugar Baby Peter x Bodyguard Steve fic is sooo amazing! 😱❤ The atmosphere, the tension, I can't even say what's my favourite part, everything is just so damn perfect and sexy! ❤❤

oh my god this is a tirade of compliments and I'm honest to god sobbing, seriously dude the fact that you read it and liked it is- it’s the best feeling ever i can’t even describe it to you.

9) Ummmmmmm excuse me while I die in a corner because of your mafia au 🤤

have i mentioned that i don’t deserve you guys? I honestly don’t.

10) [this is on the secretary au] THAT TOOK A TURN REAL FAST ((it was so good))

thank you so fucking much honestly i am awed, this was so worth putting off essays to do

11) @biscuitsonofa NEED MORE SECRETARY PETER BOSS TONY PLEASE IM D Y I N G OVER HERE I LOVE YOU

oh my god you are so amazing i can’t even just wow. If i ever came up with an idea i’d love to continue it for you, gorgeous.

12) your a/b/o au with tony/harley/peter was so great!! i would love a part 2❣️

same as above honey in 11, if i ever develop a decent imagination, i definitely will. thank you so much for taking the time to make my whole day.

13) @pretty-well-funded I binged through Super Size Me at 2am and I am fucking in love with it

Well I’m in love with you, so there. And please don’t hate me over how slack i’ve been with that fic, i started it before i made this side blog and now this sideblog has taken over my whole life but i promise i will get back to it because you guys are so supportive and brilliant and wow

14) @hoe4parker You're literally one of my favorite writers and I'm currently writing a trans!Peter fic and if you're cool with writing one, you could write one too? I love trans!Peter and new content is always fabulous and I really really love your writing

You are beyond the sweetest thing in the whole world. Just wow. Just thank you. Actually because of this ask i did a bunch of research into how to write trans characters and asked a lot of other users for advice, but i just don’t think i can do it justice at this stage :(( i’ve never done it before and i don’t feel i know quite enough about it. I love reading trans peter fics and i can’t wait for yours, but as for me, i think i need to build up my talent in that area. Who knows, maybe one day? ;)

15) @starkersbitch Heyyy there! Uh I somehow wanted to tell you that on here rather than on ao3, but I am OBSESSED with your fic "Super Size Me". The characterisation? AMAZING. The smut? I'm living. Your general writing style? Love it. Keep up your good work, love!

yeah i remember getting this, it put the biggest smile on my face ever like just wow thank you so goddamn much. like i said in 13, don’t hate me. I will get back to it gorgeous, i promise!!!! be patient with me, like timberlake says in bad teacher “i think I'm worth the wait” snort goddamn, I'm totally not but you’re a darling and i love you seriously, this encouragement is what makes this fandom the best one ever.

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makistar2018 · 6 years ago

Link

10 Years Later, Taylor Swift’s ‘Fearless’ Still Slaps

When it was released in 2008, Swift’s sophomore album launched a thousand takes. Today, it’s best remembered as a simple time capsule

By LAUREN M. JACKSON November 12, 2018

Taylor Swift during the "Fearless" tour at Madison Square Garden on August 27, 2009 in New York City.

Theo Wargo/WireImage for New York Post

Like Propel water, The Scarlet Letter and mechanical pencils, Taylor Swift’s Fearless pairs well with the sporadic squeak of team-issued sneakers, overpriced hot lunches and the kind of angst that defines comfortably suburb-bound teenage years. Sliding open the album on Spotify with my iPhone 8, I can still feel my limbs stretched in all directions, hear the snap-crackle-pop of a dozen adolescent girls’ joints going through the motions of yet another warm-up to what would become the soundtrack of my high school varsity dance team’s inner and outer lives, as well as leave poptimism forever changed.

I am 27 now, still anxious but inflexible, no longer clinging (as) tightly to singular albums to tell the emotional landscape of my life — but back then, Fearless was god. Swift was barely into legal teenagedom when compiling her sophomore album’s original 13 tracks, but more than the happenstance near-synonymy of our ages (I’m younger by 1 year, 6 months, 27 days), the four-walled, high school claustrophobia induced by the album is a matter of skilled musical mood setting. From the first downbeat of the inaugural title track to the last flippantly rebellious “hallelujah” on “Change,” Swift traps us in the mind of an ungainly teen as she was once trapped, as I was, as so many others wading the ambiguity between comportment and desire that doesn’t quite end when gowns come on and caps fly up.

Like so many notebook pages on the golden screen, Fearless is filled with boys. Stans and haters have their theories, but I like to think of each song as an archetype, less true stories of relationships gone sour than a young woman’s true to life hetero-ethnography. There are the boys who do good — the “Fearless,” “Love Story,” “Hey Stephen,” “The Best Day” boys (the last a tribute to Dad) — the boys who nurture and love intensely. They do all the usual country boy things, all the usual cinematic things: driving slow, kissing in the rain, flouting archaic inter-familial squabbles. They honor their promises and, most of all, leave the narrator better changed for her affection.

These boys who do good are short-lived. By Track 2, “Fifteen,” we’re already checking in to Heartbreak Hotel for the upteenth time with an account of that age generic enough to warrant a fan-made montage of clips from Degrassi: The Next Generation. The song tells an allegedly universal story of freshman year woes, complete with riding in cars with senior boys who also play football (because of course). It’s saccharine, sung in the vernacular of normative coupling that would become Swift’s enemy in the gossip pages. But the limited lexicon is not necessarily untruthful. “Fifteen” has aged about as well as anyone would expect, but some of those refrains make me yearn for arms long enough to slap all the powers that be responsible for belittling the whims of young girls. And according to the greater duration of Fearless — tracks like “White Horse,” “Breathe,” “Tell Me Why,” “You’re Not Sorry,” “The Way I Loved You,” and “Forever & Always” — the greatest threat to the happiness of teen girls are boys.

November 2008 looks rosy from here. America had just elected its first black president, the man who promised too much hope and change to possibly be true, but faith felt good back then. Men had committed just five mass shootings over the past year with one more on the way in December (2018 has 307 mass shootings to its name so far). The nation boasted just under 150 recognized active white supremacist groups (that number would climb to over 1,000 during Obama’s presidency). Global finance was in crisis but cable networks were still winning Emmys. Amy Winehouse was alive. Kanye still made sense and a bright-eyed, hair-tousled new country darling was exclusively concerned with dating, rather than local politics.

Like any celebrity who is also a woman, but also in a lane quite her own, Swift’s relation to mainstream feminism wanes and waxes with the season. A female artist beloved by the girls for whom her songs are written, Swift and her music are therefore more scrutinized, more rigorously excavated for signs of harmful messaging than her male singer-songwriter peers. Fearless frayed Swift’s reputation in a way that wouldn’t let up for years, if ever, largely because of its critical success. Swift took home four Grammys at the 2010 awards, including Album of the Year, beating the Dave Matthews Band’s Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, The Black Eyed Peas’ The E.N.D., Beyoncé’s I Am… Sasha Fierceand, most egregiously, Lady Gaga’s debut studio album, The Fame. The perceived slight invited robust inquiry into this supposed album of the year, and the aesthetic discrepancy between the two quickly turned to politics.

Autostraddle’s Riese called Swift “a feminist’s nightmare,” the enemy of “brave, creative, inventive, envelope-pushing little monsters” everywhere. An accompanying infographic, “a symbolic analysis” of Swift’s works to date, cataloged her most damning motifs, including “virginal” imagery, “the stars,” “crying,” and the 2AM hour. At Jezebel, Dodai Stewart agreed that Gaga was the rightful winner, speculating that in a race between “Gaga the liberal versus Taylor the conservative,” the latter “makes the Academy feel more comfortable.” One joy of pop culture is the revelation of how melodramatically things can change. Last month, Swift announced her endorsement of Tennessee Democrats Phil Bredesen and Jim Cooper for the midterm elections; meanwhile, Lady Gaga hews the path of glamorous respectability on her lengthy A Star Is Born Oscar campaign.

Feminist readings of Fearless weren’t wrong, exactly. Allies on the album come in strictly male form, while other girls are competition for Swift’s persecuted first person. Even the red-headed bestie Abigail becomes a lesson in chastity, losing her virginity — “everything”! —to the boy who broke her heart (the foil to Swift’s main character, whose dreams of living in a big ole city protect her from such a fate). The charting single “You Belong With Me” is a bouncy jaunt through the valley of me versus those other girls. The video that won Best Female Video at the MTV Video Music Awards over Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” — to seismic effect — stars Swift as both the frizzy blonde, bespectacled weirdo in band and the sleek brunette cheerleader with the man (Lucas Till who now plays MacGyver on CBS). In true romantic comedy fashion, Good Swift, clothed in white, ends up with the guy in the end, defeating Bad Swift, whose only crimes it seems are great taste in footwear and not appreciating her high school boyfriend’s likely moronic sense of humor. Both the song and video became emblematic of a kind of Swiftian all-for-one girl power. Her 2017 video for “Look What You Made Me Do” resurrects and buries all sorts of Swiftisms, including the iconography of the uncool girl who features so heavily in the Fearless-era of her oeuvre.

Pop music exists not to elevate our souls or our politics, but to safely wade in the muck of our pettiest appetites, whether they come with trap drums or in serenades. Pop music deserves interrogation, but it will never exceed us. Fearless was a diary, sounding like the selfishness that bubbles up regardless of one’s intellectual or political guards against it. The debate it ignited wouldn’t happen were it released today, amidst all this. It’s a relic of a time when determining exactly what an album meant, culturally and aesthetically, was a crucial discussion to have in public, when nuance had stakes. Compared to the basic moral tenets we now expend so much of our energy defending, such communal acts of criticism feel small and regretfully scarce. Fearless was a moment, now relegated to a time capsule, no longer a prompt.

Rolling Stone

#taylor swift #fearless #rolling stone #2018.11.12

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chenlebloom · 6 years ago

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Isn’t our Oppa pretty?

Honestly just a quick imagine that came to me when watching a J-Hope Vlive, he’s such a cute ball of sunshine and so talented ^.^ Apologies for any typos/mistakes and the bad writing, I’m writing this at 2AM.

J-Hope x reader

Alllll the fluff

Scenario: You’re an idol and in your studio late one evening so you decide to take a break and do a Vlive despite it being 11PM, you ask Hoseok if he wanted to have dinner with you at the studio and he agrees, not knowing about the Vlive. When he arrives you’ve notice he’s acting off.

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

My head flopped into my folded arms that was resting on my desk in front of my keyboard as my stomach let out another loud grumble, my last shred of concentration flying out of the window as I gave in and grabbed my phone to text Hoseok.

Doing a wiggle of celebration in my chair at the thought of seeing my boyfriend and getting my favourite food combination, I made the last minute decision to do a Vlive, making use of the spare time as I definitely wasn’t getting anything done for the next two hours. Starting a Vlive, I propped my phone up in the stand I had bought specifically for Vlives before grinning wildly as fans began to lock in on the broadcast, greeting me in multiple languages.

“Surprise!” I giggled, dragging my word out and making jazz hands, more than likely looking like an idiot but I didn’t care, my excitement taking over. “I thought I would do a Vlive while I’m sat in my studio not doing anything... I’m waiting for Hoseok to get here with food, I’ve managed to drag him out at this time of night, yes.”

The comments continued to zoom past my eyes, 20 minutes of the broadcast passed and I had told a bucket-load of jokes and performed random dances from other groups that I knew for my viewers, enjoying myself as time flew by quickly. I was stood in front of the door when it softly opened behind me, the warm and comforting smell of hot food filled my senses as I spun around quickly to tightly hug my taller boyfriend.

“Aegi, I’m all wet get off, I don’t want you getting ill!” Hoseok instructed, gently pulling away from my hug as he set the plastic carrier bag down on my desk before stripping his wet coat and changing in to his slippers that he kept for my studio to avoid making the floor muddy.

“I’m doing a Vlive, say hi to everyone!” I chirped and pointed to my phone, my smile faltering slightly as his eyes widened, tugging his face mask back up over his mouth and nose and pulling his hood down further to hide his wet brown hair. “Why don’t you sit in my chair? Talk to everyone as I quickly dish up dinner.”

“I don’t really feel like talking today (y/n),“ Hoseok moved further from the camera and pulled out his phone. “Also don’t worry about dishing it out, I didn’t order any for me, I’ve eaten enough today.”

“Hopey-Shineee, you need to eat! I know you haven’t eaten much today, you’ve been practising choreography all day.” I plopped down in to my seat and faced the camera, reading some comments. “I know, men are so stubborn sometimes!” I shoved some noodles in my mouth, “He is super pretty isn’t he? I love his eyes too.” I glanced to my side to see Hoseok scrolling on his phone, completely ignoring me and the Vlive which was unlike him.

I focused on the screen of his phone, seeing him scrolling through comments on Instagram, suddenly it clicked in my head. His loss of appetite, quietness, hiding his appearance from the camera and his attitude in general.

“I’ll be back in a moment guys!” I put my chopsticks down, blew a kiss to the camera and ended the broadcast before placing myself on Hoseok’s lap, his attention snapped up to me, quickly locking his phone before wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his cheek on my shoulder, closing his eyes and allowing comfort to wash over him.

“I know what you’re doing Hoseok.” I whispered softly in to his hair, I had slid his hood back properly and began twisting and stroking strands of it.

“I can’t help it (y/n), what they’re saying is true- I’ve put on so much weight in our off-camera period and my face has been so blotchy and-”

I pushed him away from me and put a hand on each side of his face, squishing his cheeks so his lips made the fish face.

“Hoseok, J-Hope, Hobi, Hopey Shine,Hoseok, you’re fucking beautiful.” I pressed a quick peck on to his squished lips before continuing, “you’ve gained weight but not an unhealthy amount, in all honesty I was worried about you before because you were so thin, you look so healthy and happy right now and I love it! The people telling you that you’re fat or ugly can go suck it because you’re far from fat and ugly, you’re healthy and happy looking and for every hater, there’s 100 people that love you. Please don’t make yourself suffer.”

I pressed another kiss on to his lips but this time he was able to kiss back just as gently, I was no longer squishing his face and we had moved closer together, when we pulled apart I littered his face and neck with kisses, imagining I was kissing away his insecurities.

“Thank you Aegi, I love you,” he pulled me in for another tight hug. “Now, haven’t you got a Vlive to resume?” He laughed, stealing a piece of chicken before taking a gulp of my coffee.

“Only if you join me.”

“Deal.”

I gave him a grin before restarting the broadcast, not paying attention to the camera for the first 5 minutes as I waited for people to join and instead focusing on pulling odd faces and poking Hoseok while feeding him and myself food.

“Isn’t our Oppa pretty guys?”

#bts #j hope #rap monster #jin #jimin #jungkook #suga #v #taehyung #kpop #imagine #bangtan #bangtan sonyeodan #bangtan boys #fluff #scenario #hoseok

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maximilliandelirium · 6 years ago

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somebody out there hates you

a/n: hhhh i wrote this in a pre-nanowrimo mania. wanted to post to ao3 but it’s acting weird so i thought i’d throw it up on the blog for now. notice me senpai fills me with joy, so i was inspired to make *~art~* the setting is anime japan so nothing is accurate and the points don’t matter (pssst! support me on ko-fi!)

Summary: Suzuki joins an anti-cafe out of curiosity and begins to re-evaluate his relationship with Yamato. Suzuki/Yamato (Idol Senpai/Rocker Senpai)

Suzuki didn’t go online that evening intending to join an anti-Suzuki fan café. He usually didn’t dwell on his haters at all. But tonight, curiosity got the better of him. He’d been trawling the net after a long practice when he stumbled across a link to the anti-site. (Suzuki liked to Google himself; so what?) When he followed it, he realized he couldn’t read any of the message boards without an account.

That’s a good thing, I guess, he thought. He didn’t really want to see what people were saying about him. He decided to forget about it and do his homework instead.

At least, that was what he tried to do. He kept thinking about it as he struggled over his assigned reading. What did they talk about? Did they make fun of his hair? His personality? Maybe they picked apart his lyrics. The longer he thought about it, the more he wanted to know.

Suzuki tossed his book aside and re-opened his laptop. He hadn’t closed the browser window. The link was still there. Yamato was always telling him to consider his weaknesses so he could improve. This could be beneficial. If Suzuki tried understanding where these people were coming from, he might be able to win them over, or at least get better at what he did.

It didn’t take much to make an account. He had to create a new email—he didn’t want his regular one linked to the site. After that, he spent half an hour trying to come up with a screen name. It was imperative that no one know who he really was. His usual handle—“SuzuStar”—would give him away like a shot. Suzuki was also disappointed to discover that “YamatoFan#1” was taken. Eventually, he settled on “notafan1234.”

Never having been on an anti-site before, Suzuki wasn’t sure what to expect. He was surprised by how plain it was. The header image was just the name of the page in bright red letters, along with a picture of his face with a “no” sign superimposed on it. He scrolled through the list of threads.

Break Suzuki’s new MV!

New Anti-Suzuki Memes

Worst Lyrics Poll (CLOSED)

Suzuki kept scrolling, horrified and fascinated. He found a thread titled “Important question for Yamato fans—should he be friends w/ Suzuki?” He clicked on it. He jumped when he saw the selfie he and Yamato had taken at the school festival. The original poster had written a caption beneath it.

Ugh. I don’t get why Yamato wastes his time with this guy. They don’t have anything in common.

A user named MerryPip added, Lol same. Yamato actually has talent.

Suzuki frowned.

They probably just hang out because they go to the same school, someone else said. Yamato doesn’t want to be mean.

Tbh, SuzuYama shippers make me sick.

Yamato shouldn’t keep feeding them by hanging out with him.

They only do it for fanservice. I bet it’s in their contracts.

Suzuki hadn’t been planning on responding to anyone, but the last comment had sent him over the edge. They had no right to question his friendship with Yamato. They didn’t know anything about him. He typed, Maybe Yamato and Suzuki are friends because they get along and like to hang out.

A response appeared in no time. As if, Lonelygrrl said. Suzuki is too much of a ditz to get along with Yamato. He totally cramps his style. Yamato is just humoring him because the fans like it.

Blood rushed to Yamato’s face. His fingers flew to the keys. That’s not true! How do you know Yamato is just pretending? You don’t have any proof. You’re just making stuff up!

The backlash was swift and immediate. A gallery of photos flooded the thread with red outlines drawn around Yamato’s eyes and mouth, along with whole paragraphs explaining why his smile was faked, or how he couldn’t stand to actually touch Suzuki.

His hand is just hovering here, Lonelygrrl wrote. All their selfies are faked. Their managers get together and tell them where to go. Like playdates.

Suzuki slammed the laptop closed. He sat back, fuming. When his head cooled, Suzuki reached for his phone. He wanted to ask Yamato about this. (Yamato was saved in his contacts as “Yama heart eyes emoji, guitar emoji.”)

Did u know there’s a whole website that hates me? Suzuki texted.

Yamato answered quickly: No, but I’m not surprised. There’s always haters. You find one?

Yeah. I made an account.

WTF why?

I wanted to see what they were saying.

Delete it. That’s a waste of time.

A waste of time. That’s what the anti-fans had said Yamato was doing by being Suzuki’s friend. He wanted to tell Yamato about it. But it had made him nervous. What if they were right? What if Yamato was only pretending to be friends with him? They’d become closer through school performances. Was that the only reason Yamato continued to hang out with him?

Suzuki texted back: Ur right. They’re just mean.

Don’t let it get to you. Some people have to be negative for no reason.

Suzuki put the phone aside. He wouldn’t go back on the site. He’d just forget about it. Yamato was his friend and that was that. It wouldn’t do him any good to second guess it. Suzuki opened the laptop one last time to close the browser. There were a few more replies.

Jesus, when will trolls learn not to come in here? MerryPip complained. Do. Not. Feed. The. Trolls.

I’m not a troll, Suzuki thought, closing the window. He would delete the account tomorrow. Right now, he needed to get back to work.

The next morning was rough. Suzuki hadn’t realized how much time had passed last night while he’d been reading the message boards, and by the time he completed his homework, it was 2AM. He shuffled into class, yawning.

“Late night?” Reiji asked as Suzuki walked past.

“It took me two hours to finish the reading.”

“Me, too!” Takeru said. “And when I finished, it felt like I didn’t understand it at all.” He looked over at Ren. “What did you think?”

Ren lifted his head slightly. “Huh? I didn’t finish. I fell asleep halfway through.”

“You’re kidding. We have a quiz on it today.”

“I can probably get a good enough grade with what I know.”

Suzuki spotted Yamato sitting on the windowsill. He had his guitar balanced in his lap and he was strumming it idly. The things Suzuki had read last night started to seep into his mind. He pushed them away. I’m not going to think about it.

“Yama-kun!” Suzuki called.

Yamato glanced up and smiled. It looked real. Relief washed over Suzuki as he walked over. Yamato continued plucking on the strings.

“Hey,” he said. “You look beat. What’s up?”

“I got distracted by the internet last night and did all my homework late.” Suzuki blushed. Yamato liked to tease him for being irresponsible sometimes. “But I did get it done!”

“Oh yeah. That site you texted me about. I hope you didn’t talk to anyone.”

Suzuki laughed nervously. “No. Why would I?”

“They’re trying to get a rise out of people. Starting an argument is just what they want.”

He laughed again, this time more forced.

Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s all good.” Suzuki waved a hand. “Let’s stop talking about it. Do you still want to go shopping today after class?”

“Sure. Just remember to change before we go out. I don’t want to get chased by your crazy fans again.”

“I wouldn’t forget,” Suzuki said. He winked and stuck his tongue out. “Are you sure you don’t like the exercise?”

“I’m sure.”

Yamato met him in front of the school after classes let out. No matter how many times they went out in public together, Yamato never stopped staring at Suzuki’s outfit. Suzuki didn’t understand why he rolled his eyes every time he saw it.

“What’s the matter? This is what I always wear,” he said.

“I know. That’s the problem. We’re getting you some new civilian clothes today.” Yamato grabbed the hem of Suzuki’s t-shirt and gave it a tug. “How many of these do you own?”

“A few.”

“You’re supposed to be in disguise. Why would you wear a shirt with your own face on it?”

“Because,” Suzuki said, lifting his index finger, “no one would ever suspect I’d wear my own merchandise. This face distracts them from looking at mine.”

“If you say so.” Yamato let go.

They walked into town, then took the train to the best shopping district. Though Yamato and Suzuki bought their clothes at different stores, they agreed that this part of the city had the best shops. The only problem was that it was crowded. Just getting off the train was a nightmare. Suzuki almost lost his hat.

“Is it just me or are there more people here today than usual?” he asked, squashing it back on his head.

“I think you’re right. There must be a promotion going on.” Yamato stretched to see over the crowd. “That one you like isn’t as busy. Let’s go to that one first.”

They pressed through the crowd. Suzuki bumped into a woman carrying a dozen bags and made her drop all of them. He spent a few minutes helping her pick them up while bowing and apologizing. She gave him a dirty look. He wondered if she would’ve been as mad if she knew who he was.

Or could she be one of the anti-fans?

Suzuki hadn’t thought about it before, but those names online had real people behind them. They could’ve been from his own school. It was scary to think about. There might be some in this crowd. Suzuki readjusted his mask and sunglasses, making sure his face was completely hidden.

“Suzu—!” Yamato cut himself off as he came jogging over. They’d gotten separated. “I turned around and you weren’t behind me.”

“Sorry. It’s hard to stick together in all this.”

Yamato sighed and looked around. Then he grabbed Suzuki’s hand. “Come on,” he said. “We need to get you a new shirt.”

The changing room was cold. Suzuki quickly pulled on one of the shirts he’d brought in. It was a purple galaxy print. There were three mirrors placed in the corner of the stall, giving him a rounded view. He was pretty satisfied with his appearance. Suzuki had often been told he had a good face. And his rigorous dance practices kept him in good shape. Yet…

Earlier, while Yamato was going through leather jackets, Suzuki had pulled up the anti-café on his phone. He needed to know if they knew where he was. His fans tended to track his movements. His haters might do the same thing.

Though there wasn’t anything about where he physically was, but there was a new thread: “Is Suzuki actually handsome? Yes/No?” He knew he shouldn’t read it. It didn’t matter what a handful of bitter people on the internet thought. But the urge was too strong.

It’s supposed to be his major selling point, but I’m a girl and I think he’s kind of lame.

His hair color looks so fake and not in a good way.

Didn’t he gain weight recently? No one’s gonna stick around if he keeps putting on the pounds XD

Imo he’s kind of short.

I’m 178 centimeters! That’s above average! Suzuki was shorter than Yamato, but that didn’t mean he was tiny. He remembered what Yamato had said about not engaging them. He wanted to set them straight.

The school festival selfie had reappeared. Suzuki had been proud of it at the time. His and Yamato’s costumes were perfectly coordinated, they’d posed in front of the best decorations in the classroom, and they’d gotten a perfect angle. This site didn’t seem to agree.

Look at this lame-ass Star Sailor costume.

I stg Suzuki drags Yamato into his weird interests all the time.

is it supposed to be funny? Who are they trying to appeal to?

It had taken every ounce of Suzuki’s self-control not to go off on them. Star Sailor was one of his great loves. It was one of Yamato’s as well. That was the whole reason they had coordinated their cosplays.

Unable to stomach any more, he had turned off the screen, gathered a few shirts and gone into the dressing room. He examined himself in the mirror. He still looked fine. Suzuki plucked a strand of hair. Was it too yellow?

He took off the galaxy shirt and pinched his stomach. Suzuki wasn’t as muscular as boys like Makoto or Katsuo, but he had a lithe figure. Nothing seemed to have changed. Sometimes Suzuki’s manager warned him not to indulge his sweet tooth too much. Maybe he should start taking that message more to heart. He felt a pang of loss just considering skipping the cakes at the school’s café.

Suzuki shook his head. He was letting the anti-site get to him.

When he emerged from the dressing room, he spotted Yamato coming over, his arms weighed down with jackets and black jeans. He eyed Suzuki’s pile.

“Did you find anything good?” he asked.

“I like this one.” Suzuki pointed at the galaxy shirt. “What do you think?”

Yamato shrugged. “You look good in everything.”

“Aw, Yama-kun, you’re so sweet!” Suzuki said in an over-the-top cutesy voice. He shimmied his shoulders for extra effect.

Yamato rolled his eyes and gave Suzuki a light smack on the arm. He disappeared behind the curtain. Suzuki put away the clothes he didn’t want while he waited. He wondered if Yamato had hate sites, too. It didn’t seem possible. Yamato was so handsome and talented; it was hard to imagine a bunch of people getting together just to make fun of him.

Suzuki pulled out his phone again. He went through his pictures until he found another selfie he’d taken with Yamato. It was from the last time Yamato had hung out at his house. Suzuki hadn’t made it public. He didn’t know why. It was a good picture. There wasn’t anything scandalous or illegal in it.

He supposed he hadn’t wanted to share it because it felt more personal than the others. They were both in sweatshirts and pajama pants, their faces lit up by the blue light from Suzuki’s TV. Suzuki was leaning heavily on Yamato, who was grinning at the camera. Suzuki was smiling fondly up at Yamato.

If those jerks online could see this picture, they’d realize Yamato wasn’t faking his feelings of friendship. Suzuki couldn’t post it, though. This picture was just for him and Yamato, no one else. He sighed and closed the photo gallery.

Yamato came out of the dressing room. “I’m ready if you are,” he said.

“Are you buying anything?” Suzuki asked as he headed for the counter.

Yamato shook his head. “I’m going to shop around a bit more. Do you want to get some bubble tea after the next stop?”

“Only if we go to that one place next to the arcade.”

“Okay, but you’re not dragging me into another DDR competition.”

Suzuki put his arm around Yamato’s shoulders. “Come on, you’re not that bad. You almost beat me last time.”

Yamato shook his head. He copied Suzuki’s gesture, linking them closer together. He gave Suzuki’s back a pat. “I’ll leave the dancing to the trained idol. Some other time. Now go, it’s your turn.” He nudged Suzuki forward.

Suzuki reluctantly let go of Yamato. He brought his shirts to the girl working the cash register. She smiled at him.

“You and your friend are cute,” she said as she rung him up.

“Thanks! I try.”

She giggled. “Have a nice day.”

“Did you flirt your way to a discount?” Yamato asked.

Suzuki’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses. “You can do that?”

“No, idiot.” Yamato took Suzuki’s hand again. “Maybe you could, but I wouldn’t. I hope she didn’t recognize you.”

“She didn’t. If she had, she would’ve asked for an autograph.”

They could never get a seat by the windows, otherwise their combined fans would fill the restaurant. Suzuki was half thankful for the privacy it afforded them, but they had to sit in a dim corner where there wasn’t much space. One of Yamato’s legs rested against one of his own.

“What kind did you get?” Suzuki asked.

Yamato glanced up from his phone. “Honeydew. You wanna try it?”

“Sure.” Suzuki took a sip from Yamato’s bubble tea. They had never worried about germs. The tea was perfectly sweet and mellow. He passed it back, a smile on his lips.

“You know, that’s the first time you smiled this afternoon,” Yamato said. “It feels like you’ve been gloomy ever since we left school.”

“Really?” He hadn’t noticed. “I guess I’m just tired. We’re already talking about the next comeback.”

“They should let you have a break. I’ve been talking to my agency about a vacation.” Yamato lowered his phone and met Suzuki’s eyes. “We could go somewhere. Hawai’i maybe. I’ve always wanted to do a shark tour.”

Suzuki shuddered. “That’s scary!”

“They put you in a cage. It’s not dangerous.”

“You can do that. I want to get a tan.”

Yamato knocked his leg against Suzuki’s. “But you’d want to go? With me?”

“Of course.”

Yamato’s eyes lit up. He smiled. “Awesome. We can get it cleared with your manager. There’s a little while before our next break. We could go then if your team says it’s okay.”

Hawai’I with Yamato. Suzuki imagined what it might be like. Sun, sand, and the ocean. Swimsuits. Sleeping in. Hawai’ian food. He sighed wistfully. Ever since he had first seen travel programs for it on TV, he’d always wanted to go. The best part might be going with Yamato. They could run around together as much as they wanted. They’d have their own hotel room.

“Will you ask your manager about it?” Yamato said, pressing Suzuki’s leg again. He was chewing on the corner of his lip.

“I will. I’ll text her now.” Suzuki fished his phone from his jacket pocket. He braced his leg against Yamato’s. He took comfort in the pressure. Yamato was strong. It felt good to lean on him.

Some of the other guys invited them to karaoke after school that weekend. It was Hajime’s idea apparently, which meant he’d roped in Soujiro, who was bringing the twins, and so on and so on. Things usually turned out this way. If someone mentioned a party, everyone ended up unofficially invited. Ikemen wasn’t a small school, but word spread quickly, and the upperclassmen were all connected by a web of association.

Suzuki didn’t remember who specifically asked him and Yamato if they wanted to tag along. It might’ve been Ai. Anyway, they showed up at the karaoke place after everyone else had already arrived thanks to an unexpected fangirl sighting.

“You guys are late,” Tokiya said.

“We just got chased halfway across the city,” Yamato said, tossing his jacket onto one of the couches. “Give us a break.”

Suzuki removed his mask, sunglasses, and hat. He took stock of the group. Ai had brought Tokiya and Ryuu, but Kurou was nowhere to be seen, meaning there’d be a fight later. (Ryuu and Tokiya always fought.) Soujiro and the twins were there, wearing casual clothes for once. Yuu and Baa had shown up as well. Suzuki would never get over the goat head. Takeru was there, probably having heard about the outing through word of mouth.

“Sorry, we ordered food without you,” he said.

“It’s fine. We can get something later.”

Suzuki settled in beside Yamato. He had asked his manager about the vacation. She hadn’t gotten back to him yet. He was starting to get nervous. Running from their fans earlier had only made Suzuki want it more. After this comeback. If the single does well, then I earned it. She can’t say no.

The other third-years had already lined up a decent list of songs. They must have been feeling nostalgic, since most of the music was from the 80s and 90s. Takeru, being Takeru, shared some of his food with Yamato and Suzuki while Hajime launched into a heart-felt ballad at the top of his lungs.

It was times like these that made Suzuki wish he wasn’t an idol. Being a senior in high school wasn’t easy, but there was so much more freedom. You definitely didn’t get hate comments. You could hang out with whoever you wanted. You didn’t get chased when you went outside. He could never just quit though. He loved music. He loved performing. But it was nice to just be with friends and not on a stage.

Yamato nudged him with his elbow. “Are you going to sing?”

“Obviously!” Suzuki hopped up. “I wonder if they have one of your songs on the machine.”

“Ooh, do it!” Ai said.

Yamato looked embarrassed. “Come on…”

“What?” Suzuki scrolled through the song list. “Are you scared I’m gonna ruin it? I’ll let you cover one of mine?”

“You should do a duet,” Hajime said. “Give us the collab everyone’s been waiting for!”

Takeru nodded in agreement and Ai applauded. “Yeah!” he said. “Do that!”

Yamato got up and walked over to the screen, picking up a microphone for himself. “Pick something we both know. One that’s in my range.”

Suzuki kept scrolling. They had a couple of his songs, as well as a few of Yama’s, but none of them were duets. Then he spotted something. He let out a cry of excitement.

“Yama! The Star Sailor duet! From the musical.” He grabbed Yamato’s upper arm and squeezed it insistently. “Remember? The part where Selena hears Damian join her from offstage, and then he comes down from the ceiling?” He shook Yamato’s arm for emphasis. “Let’s do this one. Please?”

“Wait, you’ve seen the Star Sailor musical?” Ryuu asked with a smirk.

Yamato blushed. “It’s good,” he muttered. To Suzuki, he said, “You really want to do this one? It’s kind of…”

“I know all the words,” Suzuki said proudly. “I could sing it without looking at the screen.”

Yamato still looked hesitant. An upsetting thought reared its ugly head. Suzuki remembered the discussion in the anti-café, about their Star Sailor cosplay. I stg Suzuki drags Yamato into his weird interests all the time. Suzuki’s heart sank. What if Yama really was only going along with it to humor him? Liking a sparkly and romantic mahou shojo wasn’t Yamato’s style. And he probably hadn’t wanted to broadcast any interest in it.

“Um, we don’t have to,” Suzuki said. He reached out to scroll down the list again. “There’s probably another song we can both sing in here.”

“No,” Yamato blurted, color still high in his cheeks. “I want to do this one.”

“Are you sure?”

Yamato nodded. “You can have Selena’s part. The notes are too high for me.”

Relief washed over Suzuki. He might be humoring you again, a mean voice whispered in the back of his head. He tried to ignore it. As long as he got to sing with Yamato, he didn’t really care. He pressed play.

They might have been in a random karaoke room, surrounded by classmates, but Suzuki poured his heart into the performance. He loved the Star Sailor musical. He thought it was hopelessly romantic. Especially the part where Damian appeared. Suzuki started the duet and Yamato jumped in after a few bars. His voice was perfect for the song. It was like he really was Damian.

If Yamato had seemed uncomfortable before, he had shaken it off. He sang with confidence, turning to face Suzuki and holding out his hand. A thrill went through Suzuki as he took it. Yamato even twirled him under his arm. They could have been onstage. Suzuki had no trouble imagining Yamato in the top hat and mask (seeing as he’d worn the costume before). He also had no trouble seeing why Yamato’s fans left strings of hearts in the comments on his selfie posts.

Suzuki was starting to feel lightheaded. It might’ve been because the room was hot, or all his breath was going into the duet, but at the same time, he knew that wasn’t the real reason. Yamato drew him in a step closer. They were reaching the end of the song.

In the musical, Selena and Damian ended their duet by putting their foreheads together, eyes closed. Then, just before the stage lights dimmed, they would kiss. It was cheated, covered by strategic hand placement, but Suzuki squealed every time. Now, as his head came to rest against Yamato’s, he had a crazy idea.

What if Yamato kissed him?

Suzuki’s heart started to pound. Yamato’s face was so close to his. It would take just a tiny movement for their lips to touch. Even though the actors usually closed their eyes, Yamato was looking straight at him, and Suzuki couldn’t tear his gaze away. He’d forgotten everyone in the room. They might as well have been alone.

Then, the last note of the song faded. Yamato stepped back. Suzuki released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Yamato’s hand was still in his. Suzuki was shaking. All around them, the other third-years applauded. Someone whistled.

Suzuki came back to himself just in time. He raised his and Yama’s hands between them and swept into a low bow. “Thank you, thank you,” he said. “We’ll be here all week.”

“You guys were great!” Tokiya said. “It was just like seeing the actual musical. Right, Ryuu?”

Ryuu shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’ve never watched Star Sailor live.”

“Oh really? Then what was that about telling Kurou how much you liked the actress that played Queen Pyrite?”

Ryuu’s mouth opened and shut indignantly. He turned away to hide the blush that had spread across his face. “Shut up, Tokiya.”

Yamato insisted on walking Suzuki home. None of their fans appeared, so it was an uneventful journey, but Suzuki’s heart hadn’t stopped racing. Yamato was at his side, keeping pace and chatting about his plans for a new song. Suzuki only half-registered the words he was saying. The rest of his mind was occupied with the ups and downs of his voice, his smile, the way the streetlights made his hair glow.

Suzuki remembered how Yamato had held his hand earlier and while they were shopping and wished Yamato would do it again. It had felt nice. He was tempted to bridge the distance between them, to reach out and mesh their fingers. Suzuki put his hands in his pockets instead.

Could friends hold hands whenever? He didn’t think there was anything weird about it, but most of the people he saw holding hands were couples. He could ask Yamato, but that seemed awkward. Why was he even getting the urge to hold hands in the first place?

“Suzuki?” Yamato had somehow ended up behind him. His brow was furrowed in concern. “Isn’t this your place?”

Suzuki looked back. He’d kept walking past his house. “Oh,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, I was distracted. Thinking about stuff.” He jogged back.

“You’re such an airhead,” Yamato said warmly. He ground his knuckles against the sides of Suzuki’s head, not hard enough to hurt. “What would you do without me?”

Suzuki laughed, swatting Yamato’s hands away. “Mean! That’s it, we’re rivals now.”

Yamato smirked. “I couldn’t be your rival. I’d crush you, and I don’t have the heart to do that. It’d be like kicking a puppy.”

“Woof!” Suzuki’s chest grew arm as Yamato burst into a fit of giggles.

Yamato took off his cap and mussed his hair. “Go on, your mom’s probably worried you got kidnapped by a crazy fan.”

“Text me when you get home,” Suzuki said.

“Will do. See you at school.”

Suzuki watched Yamato go until he vanished around a street corner.

Yamato texted him about twenty minutes later to let him know he’d arrived home safely. Suzuki tried to do his homework, but his thoughts were a jumble. He couldn’t concentrate. After an hour of struggling, he took a bath and changed for bed. If he couldn’t do his homework, he’d go to sleep now and wake up early to finish. And yet…

Suzuki lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. What had happened tonight was different from how things usually went between him and Yamato. He remembered the light, fluttery feeling in his chest when Yamato had held his hand, and how it had doubled when their foreheads were together. He remembered looking into Yamato’s eyes as they’d sung the Star Sailor duet at the karaoke place.

Friends didn’t react that way. Suzuki knew that. A friend didn’t set your heart racing just by touching you. They didn’t spawn butterflies in your stomach. Suzuki was starting to tremble just thinking about it. Heat burned up his neck to his ears.

If he was being honest with himself, he had imagined kissing Yamato before. It was impossible not to. There was a whole legion of fans who thought they should be a couple. Suzuki had never missed an opportunity to please them. He thought it was actually rather sweet. Yamato had laughed at first, but in general had approached the whole thing with good humor. With that sort of thing going on, it was hard not to imagine what it might be like if they actually were together.

Yamato seemed like he’d be a good kisser. He’d probably kissed lots of girls. Had he ever kissed another boy before? Probably not. Suzuki touched his lips. He had faked kisses with girls for MVs, but had never done it seriously. Yamato might laugh at his inexperience.

But he might also smile as he kissed him. He might hold Suzuki to him in a firm embrace, stroking his hair. He might also push Suzuki against a wall and kiss him fiercely, channeling the energy of his music into Suzuki until they were both breathless.

Suzuki opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them. He took a deep breath in, then let it out. His imagination usually didn’t go that far. Suzuki felt a little uncomfortable. It was probably wrong for him to think of Yamato like that, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

He pictured being able to hold hands with Yamato all the time, not just in a crowd, kisses before class, cuddling with each other while they watched movies… His heart surged. The thought of being with Yamato as more than a friend had made him so happy he couldn’t want anything else.

Suzuki wasn’t stupid. Maybe somewhat naive at times, but not stupid. He knew what he was experiencing. He loved Yamato. He had been loving Yamato for a long time now. Why shouldn’t he? Yamato was so artistic and brilliant and kind. It was just now occurring to him that his feelings ran over the edges of platonic affection into something else.

At the same time, Suzuki knew he couldn’t tell him. Yamato couldn’t possibly return his feelings. Even if he did, they couldn’t date without it being plastered over every magazine cover and celebrity news website. He thought of the message boards on the anti-Suzuki site. Those people would riot if Suzuki even hinted at the idea of loving Yamato. They might even go so far as to threaten him. And, worst of all, what if they were right? What if Yamato was only his friend because he had to be?

Suzuki didn’t want to believe it. He refused to. But the seeds of doubt had been sown. If he confessed to Yamato, and what those people online said was true, then he’d just humiliate himself. They’d never be able to hang out again. Suzuki feared that the most. He’d rather hold these feelings inside rather than run the risk of losing Yamato’s friendship.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. If he stayed like this long enough, maybe he would smother himself and never have to think of it again. He lifted his head eventually. It got too uncomfortable.

“I’ll just keep going like everything’s the same,” Suzuki said out loud. “He’ll never find out and we’ll keep being friends. I won’t have to give him up.”

Still, the resolution filled him with pain. He would never have that relationship with Yamato. It wasn’t going to be easy. Yamato would only have to touch him to send ripples of longing through Suzuki. He would have to train himself not to react, not to reciprocate where it wasn’t wanted.

He got up and found his MP3 player in his backpack. He put his earbuds in. Suzuki had every single album Yamato had released. He started with the first one, for nostalgia’s sake. As he listened, he imagined Yamato was singing just for him.

Pretending everything was normal was a lot harder than Suzuki realized. Yamato was everywhere. They were in class together all day, ate together during lunch, and even hung out after school. Suzuki didn’t want to stop hanging out with him; that would just make Yamato suspicious. But it was getting more and more difficult to focus on history and science when they studied together.

They were at Yamato’s apartment that afternoon. Yamato lived alone, which Suzuki used to think was a good thing, since there was no one to bother them if they decided to stay up all night watching anime. Now, he desperately wished there was someone to ward away his thoughts of kissing Yamato.

Yamato ran his fingers through his hair. He looked frustrated. “I’m not getting it,” he said. “What about you?”

Suzuki shook his head. He hadn’t even been trying. The whole study session was turning out to be counterproductive. How do people with crushes survive?

“Do you want to take a break and play Mario Kart?”

Suzuki shoved his notebook aside. “Absolutely.”

Hopefully, a game would keep his mind off of contemplating the feel of Yamato’s lips against his. He settled into Yamato’s couch, controller in hand. They weren’t competitive with each other in any area except Mario Kart. Soon, he’d want to strangle Yamato instead of make-out with him.

The plan worked, for a little while. Suzuki got swept up in the races, he and Yamato resorting to cheating by bumping into each other in real life and trying to wrestle the controllers out of each other’s hands. It was just like how things had been before. Suzuki relaxed.

However, things took a turn when Yamato hit him with a shell, right before Suzuki was about to win Rainbow Road. Bowser dashed across the finish line while Princess Peach was still spinning out. Suzuki threw down his controller and started pummeling Yamato lightly with his fists.

“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

“I’m just playing the game,” Yamato laughed.

“That was my win, you cheater!”

“Shells are a part of the game. You hit me with a blue shell a couple tracks ago. How is this any different?” Yamato grabbed Suzuki’s wrists. “You still got second place.”

“I should’ve been first,” Suzuki said. “I did the shortcut and everything.” He struggled against Yamato’s hold. “Let me go. I’m not done beating you up.”

Yamato pushed him backwards, pinning him to the couch. He hovered over Suzuki. “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try. When you were hitting me, it felt like being stung by a mosquito.”

Suzuki went red. He tried to break free, but Yamato was strong. He went redder as he became more aware of their position. What was this, a scene out of a shojo manga?

“Okay, okay,” he said hastily. “You win. Fair and square. Can you get off me?”

Yamato let go. He leaned back. Suzuki lay there for a second longer, trying to catch his breath. Had he actually been wanting Yamato to kiss him like that? To just lean down and…

Suzuki shook his head. He had to get out of here before he did something stupid. He sat up. “Um, I should probably head home. I promised Mom I’d eat dinner with her tonight. She says she barely gets to see me.”

“Oh.” Yamato sounded disappointed. “It’s still early.”

Suzuki coughed. “Yeah. I said I’d help her cook, too.”

“Alright. I’ll walk you.” Yamato started to get up.

“Ah, no thanks!” Suzuki squeaked. He winced at the sound of his own voice. What was wrong with him? “I can make it on my own. I have my disguise and everything.”

“Are you sure?”

Suzuki nodded. He gathered his notebook and school things as quickly as possible. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow! Good luck on the physics homework.”

Yamato followed him to the door. “Text me when you get home?”

“Sure!” Suzuki chirped (too brightly, he realized). Then, before he could embarrass himself any further, he rushed out the door.

Suzuki made good on his word to help his mother make dinner. She’d been surprised to see him home so early, but glad to spend time with him as well. Suzuki’s schedule was so hectic that they rarely ate dinner together, let alone cooked together. He wasn’t as good as Souma in the kitchen, but he managed.

A part of him wanted to tell her about Yamato. He had a good opportunity to when she asked how he was doing. In the end, he said Yamato was doing fine and left it at that. He didn’t want to bother his mom with that kind of thing. (Truth be told, he was embarrassed to mention having a crush in the first place.)

After dinner, he holed himself up in his room. Suzuki knew it was the last thing he needed right now, but he logged back onto the anti-café. No one had banned him yet. Suzuki hadn’t commented since that first time, so they’d probably forgotten he was there.

It was full of the usual hatred and vitriol. Suzuki picked a thread railing against his and Yamato’s relationship. He scrolled through it for a while, his heart sinking lower and lower until it reached the Earth’s core. They despised the idea of him and Yamato together, whether they were friends or dating.

It can never happen, Suzuki thought. His fans might turn on him.

Suzuki finally closed the thread. Then, because he had no one else to turn to, he texted Jae. Jae was currently in South Korea, visiting family and the other members of his group. Suzuki hoped he wasn’t too busy.

Hey sunbae, Suzuki wrote, do you ever get hate comments?

It didn’t take long for Jae to text back. oh totally. happens all the time.

How do you deal with them?

i try to ignore it. block out the haters

It was good advice. A no-brainer, honestly, if only Suzuki could follow it. have you ever found a whole site that hates you? an anti café?

man don’t tell me you have one of those. you’re a ray of sunshine! how could anyone make a whole anti-café devoted to you?

Idk either. It’s really been getting me down. What should I do?

Jae spent a long time typing. Suzuki watched the little ellipses dance while he waited. Eventually, Jae wrote back, you can always block the site or their comments. it’s nothing to be ashamed of. you don’t owe them anything tbh. if they’re not actually sending you constructive criticism, if all they’re doing is trying to tear you down, then kick ‘em to the curb ㅋㅋㅋ seriously tho, don’t read that stuff. it breaks my heart that anyone could be so mean to my hoobae

T^T you’re the best jae-sunbae, Suzuki replied.

i try 😉 is there anything else i can help with?

Suzuki hesitated. He could trust Jae with anything. But could he trust him with this? Maybe if he was vague, Jae wouldn’t realize who Suzuki was talking about. He took a deep breath and wrote, yeah. Have you ever had a crush on someone who’s like, your friend?

are we talking about yama?

Suzuki nearly dropped his phone. He typed a response with trembling fingers. Haha nooooooo where did you get that idea? I’m talking hypothetically.

sure, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Jae replied. so in this hypothetical situation, is the crusher a j-idol and the crushee a rockstar?

(^◇^；) no…

suzuki literally everyone on the planet thinks you guys are dating. even my mom thinks so.

Suzuki huffed. That doesn’t make it true! he typed. Answer my question: did you ever have a crush on a friend, yes/no?

Again, it took a while for Jae to reply. yep! didn’t work out but hey! it was someone else in the music scene. you know how it is. not that you should get discouraged! you and yamato would be super cute together.

Suzuki blushed. He thought for a while about what he should say. He typed out, do you really think so? what if a lot of people got mad?

you shouldn’t care about what other people think. it’s your personal life.

What if, hypothetically, it’s just one-sided and I ruin our whole friendship?

i doubt it would ruin your friendship, Jae wrote. i’m 99.9% sure yama likes you. have you seen how he looks in your selfies? heart eyes <3

Suzuki’s blush deepened. No way. Jae was just trying to make him feel better. Then again, the duet in the karaoke room gave him a sliver of hope. But that was a performance. They were acting like Damian and Selena.

What about the other 1%? Suzuki wrote.

you doubt my judgment?? look, even if he doesn’t feel that way about you, your friendship won’t tank just because of a little crush. not if it’s real and i think it is.

Okay. Thanks again, sunbae <3 I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.

anytime! it’s good to be home, but i miss everyone over there TT take care of yourself!

Suzuki locked his phone screen and lay down. Talking to Jae had helped, but he still couldn’t bring himself to confess to Yamato. He didn’t understand how Jae could be so confident when his own crush hadn’t worked out. He knew just as well as Suzuki how hard it was for idols to date normally.

Even if Yamato liked me back, I’d get flayed alive. Probably by my manager, too. His manager still hadn’t given him the green light on the vacation. Suzuki was starting to think that was her way of saying no. It might be better if he didn’t go. Hawai’i was a romantic place, right? What if Suzuki got carried away and blurted his feelings? It would defeat the purpose of a relaxing getaway.

I should tell Yamato I can’t come with. Suzuki would do it tomorrow, at school. He’d rip the band-aid off, so to speak, and get it over with. Hopefully Yamato wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Suzuki didn’t get a chance to tell Yamato the next day, because Yamato was suddenly super busy. He was on the phone with someone before class started, and he spent every break scribbling in his notebook. He disappeared during lunch before Suzuki could even ask if they were going to eat together. It wasn’t that strange, really. 3-A was full of students with irregular schedules. For example, Takahiro had taken off for some part-time job earlier.

However, Yamato wasn’t there the next day either, so Suzuki couldn’t tell him then, either. And then Suzuki had to skip a day to spend it in a recording studio. He considered texting Yamato about it, but he would rather tell him in person. It seemed a bit too important not to discuss face-to-face.

Suzuki finally got a chance when he and Yamato both arrived late in the school day. He guessed Yamato must have been recording something as well. He was dressed down from his usual leather jacket and had left out a few piercings. He only did that when he had an early morning session.

“Are you free to walk home today, Yama?” Suzuki asked as they jogged up the stairs to 3-A. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Today’s no good.”

“What about tomorrow morning?”

Yamato shook his head. “Busy. Sorry.”

Suzuki paused. “What’s going on? Are you prepping a new release?”

Yamato didn’t answer. He just kept going. Suzuki stared at his retreating back. What was the big secret? Yamato usually shared any and all details about his projects. He’d been talking about a new song after karaoke. Were the two related, or was this another thing altogether?

What if I made him uncomfortable? Suzuki thought, gripped by terror. Or what if Jae was trying to be helpful and told him I have a crush on him? He knew he was jumping to conclusions. Yamato was busy; that was all. Even so, he felt nervous. Why hadn’t Yamato answered him?

Suzuki investigated Yamato’s fansites. He wasn’t making special appearances anywhere. There were no concert announcements. Not even a rumor of an album release. So what was he doing? He hadn’t walked home with Suzuki or asked him over for a while. They didn’t even have lunch together anymore.

A sick, heavy dread settled in Suzuki’s stomach as he logged onto the anti-café. It got worse. The café was overjoyed.

No suzuyama sightings lately! He finally dropped him!

Heard rumors from school that they’re split up.

Maybe S*zuki will take a hint and stop clinging to Yamato like a puppy

It’d be like kicking a puppy. Suzuki’s mouth went dry. He tossed his phone into his backpack. Did Yamato really see him as a dog, stupidly following him everywhere? He’d played along with the joke that time, but now it stung.

“Romantic troubles?”

Suzuki jumped a foot. Ai was standing right behind him, his quiver slung across his back. He didn’t wait for an invitation to take the empty seat next to Suzuki. Suzuki had thought he’d been alone in this courtyard, but Ai must have had a tracking device implanted in every boy in school.

“I’m not having romantic troubles,” Suzuki lied.

Ai smiled skeptically. “It’s about Yamato, isn’t it?”

Am I really that obvious? Suzuki’s shoulders sagged. “Not you, too.”

“What, is it a secret? Even that nice girl at the café knows.”

Suzuki put his face in his hands. If everyone knew then how could Yamato not? He’s avoiding me, since he realized I’m bad for his image.

Ai patted his knee. “Cheer up! You could do a lot worse than Yamato.”

“Not if he hates me!”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“He’s been avoiding me,” Suzuki said. “At first, I thought he was working on something, but he wouldn’t tell me anything about it. And don’t say he’s throwing me a surprise party. My birthday isn’t coming up.”

“Hmm, that’s tricky.” Ai rubbed his chin. “He usually shares all his projects with you, right? Maybe he’s seeing someone else?”

Suzuki went cold. He hadn’t considered that possibility. Had Yamato started dating and not told him? No, that couldn’t be. Someone would’ve snapped a picture or started a rumor by now, and the fansites were quiet.

“No.” He shook his head. “He would’ve told me for sure.”

Ai shrugged. “Then he’s probably busy. You shouldn’t get too worked up, Suzuki. Guys like him sometimes have trouble communicating their feelings. He might be focusing so hard that he hasn’t had time to tell you about it. Kurou does the same thing. He gets tunnel-vision when he’s working on a play.”

It made Suzuki feel a little better, but it didn’t inspire confidence. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Yamato was purposefully ducking him.

“Anyway, I’m meeting Sousuke for an archery showdown,” Ai said, standing up. “He’s going to regret challenging me. Are you going to be okay?”

Suzuki nodded. “Thanks for the advice, Ai. Good luck.”

Ai shot him a thumbs-up before he left. Suzuki remained where he was. He didn’t know how long he sat in the courtyard, staring at the flowerbeds. His phone buzzed, snapping him out of it.

It was Yamato. Suzuki had been expecting his manager. His heart thumped rapidly. He opened the message. Hey Suzuki, can you come to the music room?

He was torn. Should he go? Yamato had asked him, but what if it was just to say that they shouldn’t hang out anymore. Or worse, that he didn’t return Suzuki’s feelings, which were apparently so obvious that they could be seen from space? Eventually, Suzuki gathered his courage and went to the music room.

School had finished for the day, so the music room was deserted, except for Yamato and Suzuki. It was quiet. All the clubs were meeting on the other side of Ikemen. Yamato was leaning against the piano, fiddling something. When Suzuki got closer, he realized it was his MP3 player.

“Hey,” Yamato said. He sounded nervous. “Sorry for ghosting you. I was working on an important project.”

A bit of relief crept into Suzuki’s veins. “Really? Why didn’t you just say so?”

Yamato blushed. “Well, uh, it was kind of a surprise. I didn’t know whether it would work out. I, um… here.” He held out the MP3 player. “Listen.”

Suzuki took it. He put an earbud in. There was only one track on the device, untitled. He hit play. A second later, the sound of Yamato’s voice filled his ears. Yamato’s singing voice was wonderful and familiar, but the backing track didn’t sound like his style at all. It sounded more like Suzuki’s music than his, though there was a hint of Yamato there, too. The more Suzuki listened, the more it grew on him. The lyrics were about stars burning bright for centuries, their light stretching across galaxies long after their death, and gazing at the same sky as someone you loved. A lump formed in his throat.

“What do you think?” Yamato asked when Suzuki finished.

“Amazing, like always,” Suzuki said. “Is this going to be on your next album?”

“Actually…” Yamato scuffed the floor. “I was thinking it could be on yours. I wrote it for you to sing, if you want it. I figured it was the least I could do, after you made me that mixtape for my birthday.”

Suzuki couldn’t believe it. Yamato had written him a song. Not just one to listen to, but one to sing. The lump in his throat got bigger. “W-what’s the occasion?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“No reason. I just wanted to do something special, I guess. Do you like it?”

Suzuki nodded vigorously. He couldn’t speak. Before he could stop himself, tears began to flow down his cheeks. I’m so dumb. I thought he was ditching me this whole time, and he was working on a song. For me. He covered his face, but it didn’t stop the noise from escaping. It was like a dam had burst; all of Suzuki’s feelings rushed out in one go.

“What are you crying for?” Yamato asked, gently removing Suzuki’s hands from his face.

Suzuki hiccupped. He was so embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to cry. “I…” he tried to say. “I was afraid you were tired of me.”

Yamato sighed. “I’m not tired of you, Suzu. Have you been paying attention to what those losers online are saying? I told you they’re full of it. Come here.”

He folded Suzuki into his arms. Suzuki let out another involuntary sob. He buried his face in Yamato’s shoulder. It was sturdy and strong. His t-shirt was soft. Yamato alternated between patting his back and rubbing circles.

Eventually, Suzuki cried himself out. He stepped back. Yamato let him go, but he kept his hands on Suzuki’s arms. He was looking at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Suzuki nodded and sniffed. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t want it to get to me, but I guess…”

“They’re just bitter and pathetic people who have nothing better to do with their time.” Yamato gathered Suzuki’s hands and held them against his chest. “They’re not real. This is. And any fan of mine who talks that way about you isn’t a real fan. If they can’t love you as much as I do, then that’s their problem.”

Suzuki blinked. He wanted to wipe away a few stray tears, but he didn’t want Yamato to let go of him. “You love me?” he asked, half-stunned.

The realization seemed to come over Yamato at the exact same moment. A blush covered his cheeks. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Well… I mean, of course I do. You’re my best friend.” To Suzuki’s dismay, Yamato dropped his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair, disturbing the spikes. “I thought you already knew that.”

“I do now.” Suzuki smiled, trying to mask his disappointment. I shouldn’t be disappointed at all. Yamato’s friendship is super important to me, too. “I love you, too.”

Yamato blushed deeper. “Alright, alright. Let’s not get carried away.”

Suzuki laughed. This was good. He knew now that Yamato wasn’t going to abandon him. They were still friends. They could continue performing together at school. It would be fun. At least I had a chance to say it to him out loud, even if he doesn’t know how much I really mean it.

Suzuki blocked the anti-café. He had to stop using it to punish himself. Besides, he couldn’t forgive them for leading him to believe Yamato didn’t care about him. He made sure to delete his account too, just in case the urge overpowered him, and he lifted the block.

It’s been fun, he thought. He instantly felt better. Things returned to normal. Suzuki approached his manager with Yamato’s song. He leaned heavily on the idea of marketing it as a collaboration and watched as the yen signs appeared in her eyes. After that, she shocked him by giving him permission to go to Hawai’i.

“If the song does well, we’ll find time for a vacation,” she promised. “I couldn’t answer you before, since there was a lot up in the air, but you deserve some time off.”

“And I can go with Yamato?”

“If your schedules line up, I don’t see why not.”

The next morning, he told Yamato by throwing himself into his arms and shouting, “We’re going to Hawai’i!”

“Your manager said yes?” Yamato said, brightening.

Suzuki nodded. “She said that if the collab works out, then I can go with you. As long as we’re free at the same time. Hawai’i, Yama! Hawai’i!”

Yamato actually swung him around the classroom but stopped short when their homeroom teacher gave them a death-glare. Suzuki let go and jumped back.

“Oops. Sorry, sensei.”

“You’d better concentrate on passing your exams before talking about Hawai’i,” the teacher warned. “And don’t do that again. You could’ve knocked over the desks.”

It didn’t bring Suzuki’s mood down at all. He was walking on air. Later, when his and Yama’s managers called about some kind of music industry party, he agreed to go without hesitation. Yamato was a little more reluctant, but he caved when Suzuki said they could go together.

All in all, life was good. Suzuki still wanted to kiss Yamato. He still wanted to hug him as tightly as possible and tell him how he felt, but he couldn’t bear to mess everything up. Why sabotage a good thing? Yamato clearly only thought of him as a friend.

And that was fine. Everything was fine.

Suzuki enjoyed getting dressed up for public appearances. Yamato didn’t. He always looked uncomfortable in suits. Uncomfortable, yet handsome. Suzuki’s heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.

“I hate ties,” Yamato muttered, playing with the end of his.

“Then don’t wear one,” Suzuki said. He stepped forward and undid the knot. “It’s a formal party, but no one will care. See, I think you look just fine without it. Undo a couple buttons, and voila! Rock superstar Yamato is red carpet ready!”

Suzuki might have been mistaken, but Yamato appeared flustered. He turned towards the limousine their managers had arranged to drive them to the event and held open the door for Suzuki.

“After you,” he said.

It was after sunset and traffic was bad. Suzuki checked the time. Unless they learned how to teleport, they were going to be late. Oh well, in that case they’d make an even more striking entrance. Suzuki stretched out, putting his feet up on the seat. They were barely moving.

Yamato, meanwhile, was reading something on his phone. Suzuki didn’t know what it was, but it appeared to be irritating him. He kept frowning. Finally, Yamato tossed the phone into the corner and folded his arms. He huffed, a deep furrow forming between his eyebrows. Suzuki was torn between laughing at his grumpiness and wanting to comfort him.

“What’s up, Yama-kun?” Suzuki asked.

“Oh, it’s…” He stopped, turning pink. “It’s stupid.”

“You did something stupid?” Suzuki knew he sounded a bit too eager, but he couldn’t help it. He was dying to know.

Yamato rolled his eyes. “Yes, actually.”

“Are you going to tell me about it or am I going to have to tickle you for information?” Suzuki wiggled his fingers to demonstrate.

“Don’t!” Yamato pulled his legs up onto the seat, as if to shield himself from Suzuki’s attack. “Jesus, Suzuki we’re in public.”

“No, we’re not. The windows are tinted and the partition’s up. Now tell me what made you so mad.”

Yamato relaxed. He retrieved his phone—which was undamaged—and passed it to Suzuki. Suzuki’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: an anti-Yamato fansite. For a few seconds, he just stared at it. Then he began to actually process the words he was looking at.

Yamato’s style totally clashes with Suzuki’s. Don’t know why they’re friends.

Do u remember when he was talking about how “””fake””” Zuzu is? He said in a press conference that ur not a real artist if u don’t write and produce ur own songs. What a snob. Did he ever apologize for that?

Suzuki laughed out loud. He glanced at Yamato. “They have a point. Did you ever apologize to me?”

“It’s not funny.”

“It is!” Suzuki kept scrolling. “This whole time you were telling me not to pay attention to the haters and you didn’t even follow your own advice. Aww, Yama, don’t feel bad. Wait a minute.”

There was a new reply to one of the comments by a user named, “st4rpower826.”

Do you guys ever get tired of talking trash behind the safety of your computer screens? Why don’t you say this stuff to Suzuki’s face and see how he takes it. Last I heard, he and Yamato were still really close. He doesn’t get mad until you insult his friends. If you actually cared about him, you wouldn’t do this.

It had a bunch of negative replies. Suzuki looked at Yamato again. Yamato was chewing on his lip.

“Is this you?” Suzuki asked, pointing at the screen.

“That could be anyone.”

“It’s you! You made an account!” Suzuki grabbed Yamato’s shoulder and shook it. He was laughing uncontrollably now. “You made an account so you could fight with them! Oh my God. That’s my birthday in your username!”

Yamato’s ears were growing steadily redder. “You have to make an account to read the message boards,” he muttered. “You know that. Someone was going to come along and tell them off eventually. Might as well be me.”

“How did you get that username? That’s, like, a prime fandom username. When I went on the anti-Suzuki boards, YamaFan#1 was taken.”

“No one else spelled with a four for the A.”

Suzuki was still giggling. He continued scrolling. “How long did you have this?”

“I went searching for one about me the same night you went on yours. I was curious.” Yamato smiled sheepishly. “I could take all the garbage they spewed about me but when they started throwing you into the mix, I got really upset. So I fought back. Didn’t do much good though.”

“These people say we’re so different, but we actually have lots in common, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh, here’s a familiar one: ‘Suzuki is friends with Yamato for fanservice. Yamato wouldn’t be as popular if people didn’t think he was gay for Suzuki.’ People were saying the same stuff on my anti-site.”

Yamato’s blush had spread down his neck. “They’re crazy.”

“I know.” Suzuki turned the screen off. “You shouldn’t get into fights with people online, even if they are being jerks. We know the truth.”

Yamato nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, it was really stupid, but I started to get scared that they might be right. Just for a second. Seeing all that old stuff I said made me wonder if you were still angry with me, and you were pretending not to hate me for the sake of getting along.”

“I don’t hate you, Yama.” Suzuki kneaded Yamato’s shoulder. “I’ve always thought you were cool, even when you were criticizing me. I could never hate you. Do you wanna know why?”

“Sure,” Yamato said, his lips quirking into a smile.

Suzuki kissed him. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, but he had never felt more sure of anything in his life before. The hand on Yamato’s shoulder was steady. When he pulled away, Yamato was staring at him, his eyes huge.

“It’s because I love you,” Suzuki said. And because he couldn’t help it, he winked.

The words were barely out of his mouth before Yamato returned the kiss. It took Suzuki by surprise, almost knocking him backward. He managed to hold himself up by catching hold of Yamato’s other shoulder. The realization that Yamato was kissing him sank in about two seconds later. Suzuki’s imagination had been lacking. Actually kissing Yamato was better than anything he could’ve dreamed up.

Yamato was holding him, one hand braced against the small of Suzuki’s back, the other cupping his chin. His mouth was soft and smooth and warm. Suzuki tasted a hint of lip balm. He leaned into the kiss, following Yamato’s movements. Then, Yamato pulled Suzuki onto his lap. Both hands slid to Suzuki’s hips.

“Suzuki,” Yamato breathed.

“What?”

“I don’t want to go to this party. Do you?”

Suzuki didn’t have to think about it. “No.”

He gave Yamato another lingering kiss as he got off his lap, then went to knock on the partition. It rolled down about halfway. Suzuki held up a hand in apology.

“Sorry,” he said, “but could you take us back to Yamato’s place?”

The next morning was strange. After they’d been dropped off at Yamato’s house, he and Suzuki had spent the rest of the night watching movies and making out. When they were too tired to keep their eyes open a second longer, Yamato let Suzuki borrow a t-shirt and pair of pajama pants, and they had fallen asleep in his room.

Suzuki woke up thinking last night had been a dream. He wasn’t surprised by coming to in Yamato’s room. (They had sleepovers all the time.) What reminded him that it was real was feeling the weight of Yamato’s arm around him. Suzuki bit back a fresh fit of giggles. He couldn’t believe it. He had kissed Yamato last night. Yamato had kissed him back.

Yamato stirred and lifted his head. It seemed to take him a minute as well. Then he smiled. He kissed Suzuki’s cheek. “Good morning,” he said softly.

“Good morning,” Suzuki repeated. He wondered if they could get away with staying in bed all day. Their phones had been blowing up all night, to the point where they’d set them to silent and left them in the living room.

Yamato groped for his alarm clock. “It’s almost noon.”

“My manager is probably going crazy right now because I didn’t show up.” He laughed at that. She was going to kill him later, but there were other things on his mind right now. “Is there anything important going on today?”

“No. There’s just you.” Yamato nestled himself against Suzuki again.

“We can stay in today,” Suzuki suggested. “We’ll play video games and make pancakes.”

“And make out,” Yamato added. He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it around.

Suzuki slapped his hand over Yamato’s mouth, laughing helplessly. “Gross! Don’t do that. You’re not a member of KISS.”

Yamato laughed as well. He let go of Suzuki and rolled out of bed. “Come on. I’ll make you pancakes. I bought blueberries.”

The apartment complex was quiet. Everyone was either sleeping in or out. Suzuki helped Yamato get out the mixing bowl and the skillet. There were, in fact, blueberries in the fridge. (Suzuki may have helped himself to a few before putting some in the batter.) Yamato started a pot of coffee, promising Suzuki that he still had the French vanilla creamer he liked.

While they were waiting to flip the first pancake, Suzuki decided to bring up the question that had been on his mind since he’d gotten out of bed. “So… are we boyfriends now?”

To his credit, Yamato wasn’t caught off-guard, though he did hesitate. “I don’t know. I want to be,” he said. “Things are different for us.”

“I’d be fine dating you in secret. Plenty of celebrities do it.”

“Me too, but I don’t know how long we could keep it up. There’s a lot of stress involved.” Yamato did the flip. It was clean. He passed the spatula to Suzuki. “It would definitely make some of our fans happy.”

Suzuki grinned. “Maybe that’s how we should justify it to our managers.”

“Yikes,” Yamato said. “Honestly, I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to eat and destroy you at Mario Kart again. We can talk about the serious stuff later.”

“Can’t you go easy on me?” Suzuki whined. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“What makes you think I’d go easy on you just because we’re dating now? I never let you win when we were friends and that’s not going to change now.”

“You’re so mean.” Suzuki pulled his eyelid and stuck out his tongue. “Yama-kun’s a bad boyfriend. I’m gonna tell the whole world, so no one will steal you from me.”

Yamato laughed. He put an arm around Suzuki’s waist and brought him in for a kiss. “No one could steal me from you,” he said when they separated. “I love you.”

Suzuki put his head on Yamato’s shoulder. Life was good. The world might as well be limited to this small kitchen. To him and Yamato, and no one else. “Love you, too.”

#notice me senpai #skillshot labs #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #light angst

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taehyungpurplesme-blog · 7 years ago

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Jungkook- Happy Pill

"Kookie?" You called him when you heard the door open. You waited for Jungkook to hug you and pepper your face with kisses like he used to do. 5 minutes passed and no Jungkook came for you.

You turned the stove off and set the plates on the table before you made your way on the living room. Jungkook is on the couch, chest buried on the mattress. His face is tilted on the side while he scrolled on his phone, barely noticing you.

"Jungkook?" You sat beside him. He gave you a tired smile before adjusting so that his head is now on your lap. Something's wrong with him, you're sure of that.

"How's your day?" You asked him, fingers massaging his scalp. He shrugged before closing his eyes. You know that he loves it when you do that.

"Do you want me to run you a bath?" You whispered while kissing his temples. He smiled because of the idea.

"Take a bath with me?" He playfully asked, cheeky smile is plastered all over his face.

"Fine." You smacked his arm before he held your hand and went straight to the bathroom.

Your bath time with Jungkook is always sweet and cuddly. You both stayed on the bath tub for almost an hour. Jungkook was hugging you from the back. Your back is buried on his warm and toned chest. He's playing with you at first, blowing bubbles on your face and smothering your body with soap suds but he soon fell asleep on your shoulders. You had ordered pizza, chicken and beer from Jungkook's favorite restaurant for dinner. You also prepared your boyfriend's favorite game on his PS4. You even chose some thriller and chick flicks that you can both watch once he gets tired of playing.

"Jagi." Jungkook's standing in front of you, eyes are wide as ever as he stared at all the things you had prepared for him. Small drops of water are falling from his hair down to his white shirt. You can't help but gulp as you stared at him. He's so perfect. He shyly rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at you.

His heart's slowly getting warm because of how sweet you are. You never fail to make him fall for you each day. You've always been there for him, to always cheer him up whenever he's down, and to celebrate with him whenever he achieves something. He's not always vocal of his feelings but you can feel how much he loves you. He sat beside you, quickly leaving a kiss on your lips before setting the blankets and pillows on your fortress.

"I love you." He whispered before placing his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"I love you too, Jeon." His giggles filled your ears and made you smile. You snatched the towel on the couch and dried his hair. His face is buried on your collarbones, kissing and nibbling on the soft skin. You both played Jungkook's game for hours. He would playfully kiss your lips everytime he wins the game and you would tickle the back of his neck each time he loses.

"I messed up with the dance practice again, Y/N." You immediately turned to him when he said that. His eyes are still fixed on the chick flick playing on the tv. He's biting his lower lip and his eyes are quivering as he tried to stop himself from breaking. This was what's bothering him for almost a week now.

"They said that I'm just playing and I'm being a bratty shit again." He lowered his head and as soon as you hugged him, you already felt his shoulders shaking, his silent sobs started to fill the room.

"I'm really trying my best but people always say that I should just leave the group. Am I just really a burden to my hyungs, jagi?" One of your hands rubbed his back while the other smoothed his hair. You found yourself silently crying while you tried to comfort him. You hate it when Jungkook's unsure of himself. He's the best person in the world and you can't understand why some people choose to hate him. Jungkook's always trying his best for the group. He's practicing for hours just to perfect their choreography. Both you and the boys know how perfect Jungkook is and it breaks your heart watching him like this. You told him how awesome he is and that the boys and all the ARMYs around the world love him. You thought that he's already okay because he cuddled you to sleep that night but you were wrong.

It's almost 2am when you woke up. You're already in the bed but not a trace of your boyfriend can be found in the bed. Jungkook must've carried you when you fell asleep on his arms last night. You heard the shower from the bathroom. Why is he taking a bath at this time? He's not the type to shower at night. You know how much he prefers cuddling with you all night.

"Jung-" You stopped yourself from knocking on the bathroom door when you heard the faint sobs drowned by the sound of the shower. You leaned on the door as you listened to him, tears started to flow from your eyes. He's still thinking about it. Your strong Jungkook is crying right now because of some stupid comment that a hater left for him. You stayed there, silently crying with him. You have been with Jungkook for almost 4 years and you already learned that he sometimes like the idea of being just by himself, just to cry alone or work alone or play alone. You wanted to respect that part of him that's why you decided not to knock on the door. That's why you decided to pretend that you're still sleeping when he climbed back to bed after almost half an hour of crying in the bathroom. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead as if nothing had happened.

Jungkook was off to the studio the next day. He left in the early morning, leaving a note beside your breakfast that he had prepared for you, saying that he needs to practice a lot for their choreography. You're done giving him time for him to be alone. He'll have you now no matter what happens. You can't let him suffer alone. God! He's too good for the world to be suffering alone. You went for the mailbox, tons of letters from the fans are sent for Jungkook again. You gathered all of them and placed them on the dining table. You even got the older letters from the fans that Jungkook had all kept in his drawer. Jin texted you that they'll kick Jungkook out of the studio early today because he's practicing like crazy. They are all worried about him too. You printed screenshots of tweets and messages coming from the ARMYs saying how much they love Jeon Jungkook. You had barely finished decorating the chocolate cake you had baked when you heard the door open.

Jungkook was surprised when he saw the living room decorated with pictures of him with the ARMYs. Some are from their concerts and the others are during fan meetings. Screenshots of tweets saying how much the fans love him are also decorated on the living room. His smile grew even wider when he saw the picture of him with the boys and another picture with you, that was during your 1st anniversary, the first time he had realized that he wants to be with you forever.

"Babe." He shyly smiled when he saw you walking towards him, a chocolate cake on your hands with the words, You're always the best, Kookie.

"You don't have to do this. Thank you very much, baby." He said while caressing your cheeks. His heart's fluttering like crazy right now. He can't even figure out what he did to have such an amazing girl like you. You always bring the best out of him. You always make him feel better. You're his forever happy pill.

"I still have something for you." You let him sit on the couch before handing him the letters from the fans. He's crying as he read all of them one by one. You can't help but cry with him too.

"You are loved by a lot of people, Kookie. They all love you so much." You looked into his eyes as you caressed his cheeks. He's the golden maknae and people had been used to seeing him as a strong and cheeky Jeon Jungkook but you know that he's fragile inside. He's still your precious Jeon Jungkook no matter how much he had grown.

"And I love you so much, Jungkook. You're not a burden to anyone. I'm sure Jimin and Hobi's more than willing to help you with the choreo. Jin will definitely tease you but Nams will always have your back, right?" He giggled as he pictured the scene in his head. You automatically smiled when you saw him smile again. You'll give up anything in the world just to see Jungkook smile again.

"Thank you, jagi." He softly said before kissing you, tears are continuously falling from his eyes. He feels better now. You were right. Some people hating him doesn't even change the fact that he had inspired a lot of people out there and that he's loved by them. His hyungs love him so much and you're here with him. That is what's more important to him right now.

"You're such a cry baby, Jeon Jungkook. Why am I so in love with you?" You teased him. His cheeks turned bright red because of your sudden confession. It's still funny how much effect you have on him after 4 years of being with him.

"I love you too, babe." He giggled before kissing you once again.

"What do you want to do now? Ice cream? Drink soju with me or karaoke room?" You asked, knowing that it would make him feel much better. He held your hands and kissed your knuckles. You chuckled because of what he had done.

"Everything, babe. I want to do all of it with you. Let's go." You just nodded while inching yourself closer to his warm body. There's nothing more perfect than seeing Jungkook smile again.

#bts imagines #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

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taywantsyoutostay · 7 years ago

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A song. A bloody fabulous song.

I love love love the song. The lyrics are genius, no question asked, but they make me sad on the one hand and happy on the other hand. Let me explain that. Taylor has had to go through so many hard times and was backstabbed by people she trusted and was friends with. That is something you wouldn’t wish anyone and that nobody in this world deserves. The lyrics show how she dealt with all the hate she got. She just stopped caring. Im so happy that she found this way to maybe be happier again, but also sad because she got disappointed so many times that she stopped caring for everyone expect her fans and family.

The first stanza is in my opinion completely dedicated to Kanye. The tilted stage and how he made her look like a fool. Tbh i was surprised by how bold Taylor went and how brave she must have been to do so. I knew there was gonna come a kind of revenge for what Kanye put her trough but i never thought of it being so on point and so plain and so honest.

The pre chorus is a masterpiece, i guess its one of my favorite parts of the song. I love how the background music and her singing become faster here and the lyric Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time. I´m not entirely sure if I should be sad about her seeing herself as death or happy about how she rose up from death.

Another thing I admire about the song is her proclamation that karma is about to happen to all the people who hurt her and how she feels like she already got all of her drama and how everyone else is about to get theirs as well.

In my opinion I don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me, I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams is another reference to the Kanye thing. He used her as an ´actress´ in his music video. Taylor didn’t want that. She trusted Kanye and he broke that trust, so she only wants to be an actress in Kanyes nightmares.

Lets swiftly move on the the lyric that shocked everyone: I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, ’cause she’s dead! I don’t feel like the old Taylor is gone, she’s just not taking shit from anyone anymore. Also she’s obviously mocking the people who portrayed her as death and ended in 2016. But look, she’s not and she’s stronger that before.

The point of the song in my opinion was to make people realize what their hate towards Taylor did to her. The song is talked about so much and I think Taylor really made her point with the song and she made that statement even more powerful by doing no promo for it. She has proven again how powerful she is and how she can slay the haters.

I think its so ambivalent that people are shocked by Taylors song or claim to miss the old Taylor. Sorry people, Taylor not being the same as before might be your own fault. Also, why do people miss Taylors love songs, that were belittled by so so many people? I thought you were annoyed by her songs about love and breakups??? Now you want these songs back??? Something doesn’t make sense there, does it???

I gotta admit that it’s the saddest thing ever that Taylor was maligned and treated so unfair that she stopped caring. She doesn’t care about what media or haters think anymore. Media and haters kinda killed that woman that was always so nice to everyone. I love her transition and how good she coped with all the hate and what a good song came out of it. I don’t wish any similar experience to Taylors to anyone and I feel so so so sorry for Taylor. Contrariwise I am endlessly proud of Taylor and the influence she has and how people now see what they did and maybe also regret it. Taylor please know that we love you so much and we will never stop.

Look What You Made Me Do stats:

24 Hour VEVO record (Lyric video)

Fastest song to reach #1 in the US for a female artist

Biggest lead at #1 (95%) in US

#1 in 90+ countries

Broke Spotify´s Global first day streaming record of all time (8 million streams)

Song with the most radio plays on the day of release

Link to the song:

Apple Music/ iTunes

Spotify

Google Play Music

The music video is coming out tonight at the VMAs and the preview pictures made me so excited for it. Im definitely gonna get up at 2am and watch the video and obsess and find little clues in it and be tired in school on Monday but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Hiss hiss bitches, Taylor Swift is back

#look what you made me do #music #new music #queen #slay #snake #song #Taylor Swift

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youremyonlyhope · 7 years ago

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The Doctor Falls

I am REALLY glad I took a week off from checking my dashboard because I was not aware that last week was the season finale of Doctor Who. I was like "I missed episode 12, there’s 13 episodes in each season, so I guess this season finale’s a 3-parter again and it ends next week! So I can catch up before the finale!”

But NOPE. IT WAS THE FINALE. THIS SEASON ONLY HAD 12 EPISODES. I MISSED THE DOCTOR WHO FINALE. WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT. I AM SO GLAD I DECIDED TO MAKE SURE TO AVOID SPOILERS THIS WEEK. OH MY GOD.

Though I did get spoiled for something a few days ago, but I can’t remember what it was right now. Which is good. It’s basically almost like I wasn’t spoiled at all.

On that note. Guys. Just putting “Spoilers!” in the title or in the text of your post isn’t enough, please tag things as “Doctor Who Spoilers” or “DW Spoilers”. Or at least put the spoilers under Read More.

Ok. Time for the Doctor Who finale. Which obviously, since I didn’t know it was the finale until just now before starting this episode, I am not at all ready for it. I thought I had another week to mentally prepare for this but nope. I mean, since I’m watching it a week later I guess I had an extra week, but I mean an extra week where I’d KNOW I’d be watching the finale in a week.

Let’s see if my wifi will work with me for the hour and a half it will take to watch this episode. Super bad quality, took forever to buffer, so far it’s only kinda working. Ugh. UMM. UMMMM. UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. THE CYBERMEN ARE ON THOSE THINGS THAT HOLD UP SCARECROWS. THIS IS FAMILY OF BLOOD ALL OVER AGAIN. UMMMMMMMM THE SKY ISN’T REALLY SKY.... UMMM THE NICE MOTHERLY LADY HAS A GUN NOW. OH HELL NAH THAT’S TERRIFYING THEY’RE LIMPING TOWARDS THEM. “IT’S THE SCARECROWS. NEW ONES.” UMMMMMMM NAH. AND THEY JUST HANG UP THE BODIES? WHAT THE HELL. This music is very Old Who based on the few Old Who episodes I’ve seen. That makes me kind of happy. OK. HAPPINESS FROM THE MUSIC IS GONE BECAUSE BILL IS CARRYING THE DOCTOR’S LIMP BODY. While the opening credits are playing I just need to say, Capaldi, I am going to miss you so much. So so so much. I adored Capaldi’s Doctor. He was amazing. I love him so much. I miss him so much already. Missy, girl, I had so much hope for you. I’m enjoying this Master Missy banter though. “Ten years, you spent up there, chatting. You missed her by 2 hours.” THAT’S HORRIBLE. Prepare for a lot of capslock in this post. I hear the music again. From last episode. “This is Gallifrey” I think? “You two, you should know by now, when you’re winning, and I’m in the room, you’re missing something.” THAT IS AN AMAZING QUOTE TO DESCRIBE THE DOCTOR. YES. “Knock yourself out.” *Missy knocks out the Master* MISSY YES GIRL. BILL YES GIRL. Ok but what I can’t get my brain around is like... going from floor to floor is technically time travel... which is amazing... but they’re REALLY stuck... because of time... UMM. BILL. GIRL. WHY ARE YOU NORMAL SUDDENLY?! Oh. She’s imagining herself as normal. Great. JELLY BABY. SO MUCH OLD WHO. DO ALL CYBERMEN SEE THEMSELVES AS THEIR OLD SELVES AT FIRST? She’s crying real tears! Fuck you, Master. I usually don’t hate you. But oh my god. I mean. At least the monotone voice hides emotion... Gotta take a moment to say the Pearl is literally tearing my heart out of my chest and shredding it so, good for you girl. DOCTOR. DOCTOR. YOU’RE PUSHING OFF YOUR REGENERATION. AGAIN. THAT’S NOT GOOD.

Master: “Do as she says.” Is the future going to be all girl? Me: Hopefully. Doctor: We can only hope. Me: YES!

ALSO COULD THAT POSSIBLY BE FORESHADOWING A WOMAN PLAYING THE DOCTOR IN THE FUTURE!? Also all this “Why don’t you remember this?” stuff better not be foreshadowing that Missy isn’t really the Master or something. Because I know lots of (sexist) Missy haters theorize that she’s not. I don’t want them to be right. I’m not even a Missy lover but I’ll be really angry if they reveal like “oh lol haha we lied she’s not really the Master lol gotcha.” OK WAIT. HOW HAVE I NEVER NOTICED HER SONIC IS HER UMBRELLA? HAVE I REALLY NOT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION TO HER? OH NO THE CYBERMEN HAVE ADVANCED A LOT SINCE WE LEFT THEM. I do like the contrast of Bill’s old school Cyberman vs the new one though. SO WE’RE TRULY TARDIS-LESS IN THIS EPISODE. MORE TARDIS-LESS THAN EVER BEFORE REALLY. SINCE THE... YOU KNOW WHAT? I CAN’T EVEN ARTICULATE THIS. I WAS GONNA SAY “SINCE THE TARDIS IS IN THE PAST” BUT IT’S NOT. IT’S JUST MOVING SLOWER THAN THEM AND THEY’RE MOVING SLOWER THAN THE CYBERMEN. IT’S HARD TO ARTICULATE WHAT’S HAPPENING. THAT’S HOW TARDIS-LESS WE ARE RIGHT NOW. GREAT. OH. OH. OH THAT’S JUST GREAT. THEY’RE JUST GONNA FLY UP AND THROUGH THE LEVELS. COOL. GREAT. FANTASTIC. THIS IS FUN.

Pausing to let it buffer a bit because my wifi hates me again. But oh my god the stakes are high with no TARDIS and a billion cybermen essentially manually time traveling to get to them.

WAIT. THE PEOPLE SEE A GIANT NUMBER IN THE SKY. AND DON’T KNOW THAT THIS IS A SPACE SHIP!? IT REALLY HAS BEEN A LONG TIME. PEOPLE. PASS DOWN YOUR FAMILY HISTORIES. PLEASE. THEY COME IN HANDY. LIKE IF FOR INSTANCE YOU LIVE ON A SPACE SHIP AND IT’S IMPORTANT FOR THE FUTURE GENERATIONS TO KNOW ABOUT IT. AND IF THEY DON’T KNOW THIS IS A SPACE SHIP, WHAT DO THEY THINK ABOUT THE CYBERMEN WHO MAKE IT UP THERE AND LIMP THROUGH? WHAT DO THEY THINK ABOUT THEM? AND WHAT MADE THEM START MAKING THEM INTO SCARECROWS? WHAT?! I mean the Master knows he gets out of this somehow since his future self is talking to him about it and doesn’t really remember it at all. MISSY YOU GENIUS. PARADOXES ARE GREAT. “I’ll try anything once.” Girl. Don’t. No. They should really give Bill a scarf or something to differentiate her from the others... Though now all of them are newer so it’s easier, but still. Oh poor Bill. See. She’s upset. GOD POOR BILL THIS IS BREAKING MY HEART. That speech. Capaldi. I’m gonna miss you SO SO SO MUCH. God. I would not want to be the actor who has to follow Capaldi. He has some big shoes to fill. See, you know it’s gotten bad when something the Master said (”this is a face that didn’t listen to a word you just said”) that would normally be funny in any other episode, isn’t funny at all, not in the slightest, not at all, nope. It’s just disappointing. Not even like “oh haha” way, it’s just like... sad. ...Did she slip him the missing piece of the Master’s TARDIS... Why are they in a pointy formation instead of a rectangular one? OK WAIT. OK. WAIT. WHY IS THIS GIVING ME MAJOR DEJA VU. ALIT HOLDING THE APPLE IN FRONT OF THE CYBERMEN. IT’S REMINDING ME OF SOMETHING. I’VE SEEN THIS BEFORE. OR SOMETHING SIMILAR. I THINK. IT’S JUST REALLY GIVING ME DEJA VU RIGHT NOW.

Doctor: I won’t do that until I’ve left. Me: Ok Doctor don’t lie Nardole: Liar, it can’t be done remotely. Me: See there we go.

Bill’s gonna volunteer to watch over the humans isn’t she? Oh no she’s gonna explode with the Doctor instead. Why. I would have preferred her watching over them forever, and all the humans loving her despite her being a Cyberman, and me crying tears of happiness that she’s accepted and sadness that we won’t see Bill again. OH NARDOLE. OH I’M GETTING EMOTIONAL ALREADY. So... I literally can’t tell if this cause of death would be considered a suicide or not... that’s like.. only half a joke... Ok... why do I feel like Bill’s “Glad you knew that” meant something else... or was it just to trick the audience into thinking “oh no another companion developed a crush on the Doctor”? So... double suicide...? Ummm... tell me Missy isn’t dead for good... right? There’s only 15 minutes left... so what’s gonna happen... Did he say Canary Wharf? The captions miss random words sometimes. Yep he’s reciting everything the Cyberman failed at. Also, I had forgotten about the time there were Cybermen on the moon. HEY DOCTOR. I FORBID YOU TO REGENERATE RIGHT NOW. OK NOW THERE’S 10 MINUTES LEFT AND EVERYTHING’S BLOWN UP WHAT’S LEFT TO HAPPEN!???!?! “Pity, no stars. I’d hoped there’d be stars.” WHY IS THIS MAKING ME SO SAD. NARDOLE’S STUCK HERE FOREVER NOW. I’M REALLY EMOTIONAL. See. I assumed it was snow last episode when we saw the Doctor start to regenerate. But nope. I guess it’s ash. Oh Bill. IS SHE GONNA DO IT? IS SHE GONNA FLY HIM UP TO THE TARDIS OR SOMETHING? WAIT. WHAT. WHAT THE HELL. IT’S THE GIRL. WHAT. IT’S WHAT’S HER FACE. HEATHER RIGHT? OH MY GOD. SHE REALLY FOLLOWED HER EVERYWHERE IN SPACE AND TIME. WHAT. OH MY GOD. I JUST GASPED. “LEFT YOU MY TEARS, REMEMBER?” I LEGIT LET OUT A GASP. I don’t know how I feel bout Heather coming out of nowhere like this but like... I can’t complain. THANK GOD FOR HEATHER AND HER CRAZY TIME TRAVELING LOCATION JUMPING WATER. I HOPE I SEE YOU AGAIN TOO BILL. So that’s 2 companions of the Doctor who are now traveling through time and space with an immortal girl(friend). MARTHA. THAT WAS MY MARTHA. “I DON’T WANT TO GO” AND WHAT WAS THAT SONTARAN QUOTE? ANOTHER LAST LINE A DOCTOR? “WHEN THE DOCTOR” WAS ME!?!?!?!?!? IS HE GONNA SAY WAS ME????? “WHEN THE DOCTOR WAS ME.” DJSAKFJDFJSAKFDLSAFDSAJFDJSA No? You can just say... No? And you don’t regenerate? Is it Earth? BELLS??? OH SO IT WAS SNOW, NOT ASH. UMM. WHAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING. WHO IS THAT. OOOOOOOOH IT’S HIM. IT’S HIM. DID I HEAR ABOUT DAVID BRADLEY BEING IN AN EPISODE THIS SEASON? I FEEL LIKE I DID. OH MY GOD. “THE ORIGINAL. YOU MIGHT SAY.” “THE DOCTORS WILL RETURN AT CHRISTMAS.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I WANT TO CRY.

Ok I gotta get up and walk away for a minute just...

Me: *Says I’m gonna go calm down for a minute.* Me: *Instead freaks out even more over everything.*

I just went and fangirled to my dad about David Bradley for like 5 straight minutes because he’s the only person awake and I needed to get these feels out verbally. And then just about the episode in general for another 5 minutes. Oh my god. This is too much for 2am.

I just can’t put into words how excited I am. Because David Bradley blew me completely away in An Adventure in Space and Time and we get to see him as the First Doctor and just... oh my god. Oh my god.

Heather coming back for Bill seems almost deus ex machina like but she did leave her her tears and Bill the cyberman cried tears so like whatever, I get it. But believe me, Heather was the LAST person I expected to see. If we had had puddles hidden everywhere throughout the season, that would have been better since there would have been constant hints. Unless... there were puddles everywhere... and no one noticed... or at least I didn’t notice... because puddles are so subtle and common... Am I going to have to rewatch this entire season and look for puddles now?

I’m rereading my post about The Pilot just to see what my thoughts were the first time and I had apparently noticed that there was a picture of Susan on his desk next to River’s, so WERE THEY FORESHADOWING THE FIRST DOCTOR RETURNING FROM THE VERY BEGINNING!? OH MY GOD.

Ok basically. I wish Bill wasn’t leaving. I adored Bill. She needs to come back. At some point. I liked Heather, so once I got over the initial “WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING” aspect of her return I was happy. And I’m glad that Bill doesn’t have to suffer as a Cyberman for the rest of her life, she gets to go off and travel the universe as an immortal puddle with her immortal puddle girlfriend. Yeah. My only complaint really is that she shouldn’t have been able to fly the TARDIS; “I’m the pilot” doesn’t feel like enough of an explanation.

As for the Doctor. Oh Doctor. I wanted to cry. But then the First Doctor came out of nowhere and I need to go see if I can rewatch that scene on YouTube or something because now it’s all a blur of me just freaking out and silently screaming.

Oh wow. The clip is only a minute and 20 seconds long. It felt like a lifetime. Time honestly slowed down when I watched this the first time.

AHHHH I DIDN’T NOTICE HIM GRABBING THE LAPELS OF HIS COAT. YES. YES DAVID BRADLEY. YES. GOD. THEY LITERALLY COULD NOT HAVE PICKED ANYONE BETTER TO PLAY HIM. OH MY GOD.

CHRISTMAS. YOU’RE MAKING ME WAIT UNTIL CHRISTMAS. That was actually my first thought when I had closed this post in order to “calm down” for a minute. I literally pressed save draft, and then looked into space, and whisper/screamed “...Christmas?!?!?!?!” HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO WAIT UNTIL CHRISTMAS?! THAT’S IN ALMOST 6 MONTHS. COME ON. But this means Capaldi gets to stay the Doctor for 6 more months and that’s fantastic.

On that note. Honestly, you guys should all congratulate me on how well I avoided spoilers. I didn’t even know this was the finale, so I’m REALLY glad I picked this episode of all episodes to be like “Nope. Not going on my dashboard because I follow people who like to post spoilers without tagging them. I’ll just avoid my dashboard until I have time to watch the episode” and that was almost a week later. Wow.

Also I never remembered what it was about this episode that I was spoiled for earlier this week, so my brain blocked something out correctly for once.

IN ALL THAT CRAZINESS, I LITERALLY HAD FORGOTTEN THAT MISSY DIED. UM. THAT CAN’T BE THE END OF THE MASTER’S REGENERATIONS RIGHT?

#doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #hope watches doctor who #ignore me if you want

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theglowstickchronicles · 8 years ago

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I’ve seen a lot of posts floating around this site recently about nurses “doing their jobs”, mostly about night shifters caring for their patients instead of telling them to go to sleep, but also to day shifters telling us to stop complaining and help our patients.

Let me tell you what my job description included. In addition to a BSN, BLS, ACLS, telemetry certification, IV therapy class, phlebotomy class, my job description included "interpersonal skills”, “perform nursing assessments as per policy”, “organizes/coordinates patient care”, “develops/updates care plans”, “provides patient education”, “medication administration and education”, and “disease process treatment and education”.

Let me tell you what my job description DID NOT include: having patients throw pills at me. Having patients punch me, kick me, and scream at me. Having patients calling the police and telling them I am torturing them. Having patients urinate or poop all over the bed, the chair, and the floor. Having CT scan call my manager complaining because I simply cannot leave the floor to get this CTA done because my other patient is in respiratory distress. Having to eat lunch in the nutrition room in less than 2 minutes because I have to clean aforementioned urine or fecal matter. Having to remind perfectly oriented and sane middle-aged men and women that no, I am not going to comb your hair at 2AM because you are messing up your sleep cycle and will get hospital delirium and then I will have to probably put you on a sitter, which means being even more short-staffed.

Yet I spend anywhere from 36 to 50 hours a week, wake up at 5AM and pull on my compression socks, and I plaster a smile on my face every time I walk into a room. I make sure to send smilies after my text requests to the residents, even after the 5th time I’ve reminded them that I need an order to give that med they wanted. I smile even when I’ve waited 4 hours for an antibiotic from pharmacy, or when a resident puts in STAT labs- not for an emergency, but because they forgot to order morning labs and need those values to round with their attendings. I smile when I grab the 800th ginger ale for my totally independent patient, and when I explained to my patient’s wife for the 900th time that the beeping on the monitor is artifact and her husband is not actually in v-fib. I show the interns how to put orders in, fax their paperwork were it needs to go, sneak them information during rounds that they forgot to write down all with a smile. I casually ask for soft restraints after being kicked in the jaw with a wry grin and a shrug, and when management asks if I can come in extra because they are so short-staffed I sigh to myself as I say yes.

I smile as I play secretary and fill out and fax paperwork, smile as I play pharmacy and go downstairs to get my own meds that they forgot to send up, as I play physical therapist and ambulate my patient down the hall 3x a day, as I play aide and do my own vitals and bed baths, as I play phlebotomist and draw all my own blood specimens, as I play house-keeping and clean up spill after spill, as I play social worker and set up follow-up appointments and home care services, as I’m charge and have to give my drowning coworker yet another admission because ICU is full, and as I finally get to do my own job and pass meds and explain disease processes.

And then I come home and I come on tumblr because here, here I am safe from work and safe from patients and have a community of my brother and sister nurses who understand, who had to wear all the same hats I did that day, who had a patient call them a bitch for not giving dilaudid or incompetent because a doctor didn’t fill out discharge papers the right way or has to immediately jump in the shower because that scrubbing at work could never get all the blood, sweat, pee, poop, and tears that we get on us each shift.

And then I find that not even my own blog is safe?

Here’s to a happy new year and a giant fuck you to all you haters.

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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 6 years ago

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I Went Vegan And Here’s How Much I Was Judged Betches

At the start of the summer, I decided to go vegan. Before you come at me (plz chill) I know there are a billion articles about how it ruins my health, destroys the environment, and exists only as trendy holier-than-thou diet (thinking of you, Gwyneth Paltrow!)

People loveeeee to hate on vegans. Sure, we have a rep for being pretty judgmental hypocrites (like Phoebe from Friends and her love for her fur coat in that one episode—but tbh in the spirit of journalistic integrity, she was vegetarian, not vegan, but still). And I was one of those haters. I used to think veganism was a fad diet that wasn’t even that healthy. Also, how do you even get enough protein? Tofu, a chalky white sagging blob I’d seen at my dining hall’s salad bar, didn’t seem a particularly appealing alternative.

So what changed? Well, I moved to California and was brainwashed started learning more about veganism. One of my best friends at college is vegan, so I learned more about it this year by eating with her. Obviously, we went to the most extra vegan restaurants in LA, but that was the first thing that convinced me: I actually liked the vegan food.

Judging by my super healthy diet of vodka and brownies, by the end of the school year I felt like crap. I needed a lifestyle change, and this summer was the perfect opportunity for that. I would be cooking all of my own food for the first time while living in a dump old frat house on the Row at Stanford.

My family was concerned by this idea—well, actually, I didn’t tell them initially because I knew they’d freak out, but had I informed them of my plans before, these are the questions they would’ve asked:

What will you eat for breakfast? Ummm….seaweed and hummus? Some nuts? Kale chips? Tofu? Realistically a really weird assortment of food, but also, like, who even eats breakfast? I’m in college. Coffee counts.

What do you eat at restaurants? Since one of my best friends is already vegan and since California is the Mecca of vegan restaurants, it isn’t hard to find restaurants that served, like, salads and tofu.

Can you still drink? JK, my fam wouldn’t have asked me that, but for all the concerned alcoholics out there, vodka is vegan. In fact, all liquor is, though some wines and beers are processed with animal products. Yet another reason shots reign supreme.

Week 1

It’s 11pm and I’d just arrived at “The House,” aka the trap fraternity house where I’d be living this summer. Even though it’s no longer a frat house, it still feels like a frat house. The state of the house may seem irrelevant to my diet, but the kitchen is a disaster. It’s a place where we’d all made blackout quesadillas at 2am during the school year, so using the same pans crusted with our drunk food seems rather unappetizing.

After moving all of my stuff up three flights of stairs alone (chivalry is dead), I head to Whole Foods to scour their vegan options. This being California, they have loads of options. I buy what would become the starting lineup for my summer diet: eggplant and tofu from the salad bar, a few pre-made salads, kale chips, seaweed, pickles, hummus, and vegan jerky. I feel so healthy.

A few vegan days pass. Do I feel any magical results? No. I do not feel less tired, as some people have promised. I do feel healthier though. Like those vegan models that I follow on Instagram, with my Bragg’s Nutritious Yeast (vaguely cheesy powder?) and zucchini noodles (these taste like zucchini, not pasta, don’t let others convince you otherwise).

That Friday my friends and I go to San Francisco. It all fun and games until everyone decides they want to go to IHOP for some drunk 3am pancakes. I then realize I can’t have any because they aren’t f*cking vegan. I eat some kale chips instead to soak up all the extra vodka in my stomach. The next morning I want to kill myself. Kale chips aren’t a good drunk food. My hangover is deadly. Who would’ve f*cking thought?

Weeks 2 & 3

The glow of being healthy is fading. First of all, I’m worried I’m anemic because I’m tired, like, all the time. Literally, allll the time. All I want to do is sleep. I went from being fine on six hours of sleep to wanting to sleep 12 hours. What college student sleeps for 12 hours? HOW IS THIS OK.

Also I really, really, really want something sweet. I’m craving chocolate like mad. So I buy some Hu Chocolate from Whole Foods and happily eat an entire hazelnut-butter dark chocolate bar. It’s vegan, so ha!

Realistically, there isn’t much more to say about these weeks. They pass in a sort of foggy blur of vegetable eating. I don’t go out because of my summer courses. This is shaping up to be the best summer ever, wow!

I questioned stopping. But that would be giving up, now, and I’m no quitter.

Week 4

This weekend, I drive down to LA with my vegan best friend, and naturally, she brings me to all of her favorite vegan restaurants. The Green Temple for the best tofu sauce (literally I want to drink the sauce). Café Gratitude has absurd buffalo cauliflower and honestly it’s expensive ($11 for a side of cauliflower? What is the profit margin here?). By Chloe (there are multiple in New York too!) has the best vegan kale Caesar salad I’ve ever tried in my life. It has shitake bacon and almond parmesan and literally, this is why I became vegan. Also, there’s a little sign that says how much waste you’ve prevented by eating vegan food inside By Chloe, which just made me feel like a really great person.

The next day I get a migraine and lie in bed for the entire day. Soooo fun. Exactly what I drove six hours for! We go to Whole Foods that night though, to find dinner stuff, and I’m delighted by their eccentric chip selection (jicama chips. WTF?) and extremely elaborate salad bar selection. They also have about five types of vegan mac and cheese, which is like, absurd.

We head to the Farmer’s Market in Hollywood the next morning. Everyone makes fun of me because I buy a jar of pickled brussels sprouts and a tin of soy shitake mushrooms to eat for breakfast. Yes, I get that’s a really weird breakfast. But seriously, anyone who knows me by now should realize that I thrive on eating really strange foods. And pickled (well, technically fermented but stick with me) foods are good for your gut health. It’s why so many people are obsessed with drinking apple cider vinegar!

We drive home, stopping at the Ostrich Farm on the way through Santa Barbara. This trip has taught me:

LA has the best vegan restaurants. New York may have By Chloe and Candle 79, but LA just has sooooo many more options.

I actually can drive for seven hours without killing someone. Genuinely a miracle!

Ostriches are vaguely cute.

There is nothing to do in LA besides workout, eat food, and sit in traffic (while occasionally visiting ostriches).

Week 5

I feel less tired, so maybe my body was just adjusting. Or maybe I am anemic and should start taking iron supplements. My doctor keeps bugging me to do bloodwork and I keep putting it off because I’d have to fast before getting it done and that’s so annoying. Yes, I am a responsible adult, thanks for asking.

I make the mistake of telling my mom that I decided to go vegan, and receive a whole lecture about how it’s a horrible idea. You will ruin your health and become anemic and are you getting enough protein and don’t you know about living life in moderation?

I give her a speech about animal rights and the environment (yes, this is a little late to the game, but I started following all these vegan Instas because I needed more motivation), and the environmental benefits of veganism. It really tugs at the heartstrings. But photos of cute little pigs with the caption “is eating bacon really worth it?” kind of make me want to cry.

Now that my mom hates my vegan diet, I’m even more motivated to continue. I’m massively stressed studying for my summer course midterms, but at least I’m stress-eating seaweed and hummus instead of cookies. After I finish midterms we go out that weekend to celebrate one of my friend’s birthdays. Personally, I blame my later behavior on the restaurant for lacking vegan options. A plain salad is not an ideal pre-drinking meal, tbh, and my lack of memory for the rest of the night can be entirely explained by my meager dinner of iceberg lettuce in conjunction with the seven shots of ginger vodka I had later.

Weeks 6 & 7

These two weeks are also a blur. My family comes to visit the first weekend and are genuinely incensed that I refuse to eat meat. We all go out to dinner to some non-vegan place where the only thing I can eat is a kale Caesar salad without dressing (because of the fricking anchovies). So I basically eat a bag of dry kale for dinner. Yummmmm. But I can’t back out on being vegan now. That would mean my mom was right. Again. I abandon my family after dinner to run to Whole Foods to buy a late night snack of eggplant and hummus (why am I so weird?!).

The next day, my mom treats me to dinner at Nobu, which opened in Palo Alto at the start of the school year. I’d been dying to go the entire year, but it’s not exactly a place you go with your friends when you’re in college on a budget. My mom orders sashimi for the entire table and I eat a piece of tuna.

YES, I BREAK MY VEGAN DIET. NO ONE IS PERFECT K?!

Seriously though, the tuna is fine. High-quality fish, but ultimately not even that tasty. Honestly, one thing I’ve realized is that food tastes good because of the sauces and spices on it, not because of the base. It could be cauliflower or steak, chicken or tofu, all that really matters is the sauce. (Okay, clearly I’m not a steak connoisseur. Red meat has always grossed me out and I know theoretically a good steak doesn’t need any sauce. This is why I’m a mostly successful vegan, and my brother will never be a vegan. He thinks vegans are wussies and real men eat wagyu beef.)

My family leaves, and I’m getting bored of eating the same 10 foods every day. So I start exploring some of the other weird vegan foods that Whole Foods sell. Vegan cheese dip, for example, is disgusting. It’s a mix of pureed potatoes and cashews, and it does NOT taste like cheese and now I feel nauseous. I also buy chocolate covered chickpeas a few times, which sound gross but taste like chocolate covered pretzels. They are as addictive AF so consider yourself warned. Banana brittle (pureed dehydrated bananas with coconut flakes) is also incredibly addictive. As is chocolate mousse made with silken tofu and cacao powder.

If I sound like a raving lunatic who has lost all concept of what good food actually tastes like, it is quite possible that veganism has addled my brains.

Week 8

I spend the entire week studying for my finals. Woohoo. All I want is to go home and sleep. The fatigue never entirely left, so maybe I really am anemic. But I honestly feel much healthier. My body is more toned, my hair is thicker, and my complexion is brighter. Most importantly, I don’t feel gross every time I eat. It’s nice to finish a meal and not regret eating junk, but instead feel happy knowing that I’ve put healthy nutrients into my body.

Even though I’ve been eating less protein, I feel more muscular too. Until I have to move all my crap and I realize I still lack basic upper body strength. Veganism forced me to abandon my mini fridge since I don’t have enough strength to carry it down three flights of stairs (if anyone wants a mini fridge HMU. I warn you though, the freezer has about an inch of congealed apple vodka on the bottom because my idiot friend put a bottle of vodka in it sans lid). I fly back home to New York and eat a bag of coconut chips for dinner because the airplane has no vegan food.

Week 9 – ???

Now that I’m home and no longer cooking for myself, I guess I could stop being vegan. Despite the fatigue, I really have enjoyed it. It forced me to cut the unhealthy junk out of my life but still allowed me to treat myself by eating things like chocolate covered bananas or vegan brownies. Moderation!

I did finally get some bloodwork done and it does turn out my iron levels are dangerously low (oops?), I can always start taking a supplement to fix that and start drinking blackstrap molasses because apparently, that has 20% of your daily iron per serving. Yum. Besides that, I really do feel much healthier. I feel fit again, instead of constantly stressed about what I’m eating. My hair and skin both feel amazing.

It’s honestly not hard to find food to eat, either. I just eat the vegetables my mom makes for dinner and heat up some tofu for protein. Now I’m campaigning for my dad to join me since his cholesterol is through the roof and I know he’d benefit from less butter and red meat. (I’m really trying to not become one of those preachy vegans that try to indoctrinate everyone though, don’t worry.)

If you’re still not convinced

a) I don’t care b) it’s fine, you can join my family, who are still convinced that I went to school in California and became “some sort of new-agey hippie.”

Realistically, will I stay vegan forever? I have no clue considering it’s been only 10 weeks and forever is, like, a really long time, but I have no concrete plans to stop anytime soon. Unless I actually do become anemic from an iron deficiency. Then my mom might start force-feeding me red meat again…

Images: Giphy

Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

=> *********************************************** Originally Published Here: I Went Vegan And Here’s How Much I Was Judged Betches ************************************ =>

I Went Vegan And Here’s How Much I Was Judged Betches was originally posted by News - Feed

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wilshipley · 7 years ago

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The Bachelor, Season 22, Episode 2

“Tonight on The Bachelor...” skip skip skip once is enough “...it's all coming up tonight on The Bachelor.”

EXTERIOR, PEREGRINE FALCON: Why?

We hear the famous red-tailed hawk scream that lazy foley people have used for decades. Ari's in the scrubby mountains astride an ugly Harley-Davidson P.O.S. and I'm sorry if you like Harleys but seriously they're loud and heavy and don't perform very well and every single one I've seen in town is ridden obnoxiously. We've got a guy here in the Castro who rides a red one and at 2am almost nightly he'll rev his engine again and again for up to a half hour, for no reason except to annoy everyone. It’s not like I’m a motorcycle hater, I rode a Duck for many years but Harleys are just stupid.

EXTERIOR, MANSION: The women toast each other “to love.” Sure, lotta love in this room. We get quick cuts of the women saying they like Ari. This is a huge surprise, HUGE.

Chris calls the hoard inside: “The hope is that just one of you will be Ari's wife.” Wait, so still no polygamy on this show? Jesus, what year is this. “...and that's the craziest thing to say to 21 people sitting before you,” add Chris, apparently overlooking, “I have a spatula and I will spank all your bottoms until you admit the moon landing is fake, you arugula pirates.”

Bekah is looking super perky (enjoy this while you can). Bibiana confessions she wants a date, a big surprise on a dating show about dates. This is Bibiana’s episode so just assume if I elide something it’s a Bibana confessional. Also I have no idea if I’m spelling her name right or anyone else’s also I kinda don’t care?

Hot Mess Chelsea talks about how the producers *cough* I mean Ari gave her a rose last night because she's “a little bit mysterious” which is a funny way to pronounce “CRAY CRAY” but whatever.

Becca K. gets the first date card, all by her lonesome. She is...the publicist? Ok, I'm cheating and reading her title card, because I don't remember anyone but Bekah and the taxidermy gal, who I internally call “girlfriend #1″ and “girlfriend #2″ because I’m a lonely and sad man. I think maybe this Becca is the one who had him propose to her first thing out of the limo?

Ari drives off with Becca on “his” shitty motorcycle. Becca confessionals that she's happy to be paired with a “handsome race car driver” which seems like an oddly specific wish. Like, I've heard of having a type, but if your type is “handsome race car drivers with the IQs of 10-year-olds” then maybe time to rethink priorities.

Hot Mess is asked by the producers (via a proxy contestant) how she feels about Becca getting the motorcycle date. She doesn't disappoint them, “A little jealous...I love putting myself behind something a little bit more powerful than me.” I get she's that trying to sound naughty and exciting here but that construct doesn't make much sense. In what other situations are you putting yourself behind something more powerful than you? I mean, a car is more powerful than you, so do you love it every time you walk up behind your car? What about tractors? Does being behind a tractor get your crank going?

Unbelievably Insane Krystal tells the women that her dad was in a motorcycle accident so she wouldn't be down with going on the ride today and it goes over like a lead balloon in a hospital ward of people suffering from lead poisoning who also are afraid of balloons. One of the assembled women kinda slowly says something like: I...guess...it’s...good...you’re...not...going? because how do you respond to that.

Ari takes Becca to, like, a loft or something they rented out? And introduces her to MEGA-superstar designer Rachel Zoe who I'm sure you've all heard of without googling her because OMG she dresses the stars or something? Becca is supposed to pick out a dress for the evening, from among a ton of very, very sparkly dresses. Rachel Zoe has never met a sequin she didn't like.

After some dress-trying-on Ari tells Becca that she'll get to keep all the dresses and then gives her some spiky Louboutins which even I know are super-goddam-fancy. This is an awesome set-up by the producers — the first woman they pick is a nice, small-town, inoffensive gal it'd be hard for anyone to dislike, and she's getting a classic small-town-gal / “Pretty Woman” scenario without the pesky whoring of the original. Also this sets us up for DRAMA because she's getting like $15,000 or so worth of stuff and I'm now completely convinced the next group date is going to be the women shoveling actual shit (they've done it before!) just to make the other women super jealous.

Ari lies about how much he wanted to spoil her with this date as if he set up Rachel Zoe and paid for the dresses himself, hah hah. Now some Very Serious Dude approaches them with glasses on carrying a briefcase: “Neil Lane sends his regards.” I expect him to shoot them both but instead he gives Becca earrings, which is disappointing but maybe more in tune with the audience. Ari then spends a lot of time brushing her hair away from her ear so the camera can see the earrings that NEIL LANE gave her. Did we mention Neil Lane enough? Because he’s no longer satisfied to just appear at the end of the show with his goddam blood diamond rings. They kiss and he holds her hair back, which is something I usually reserve for...well, not kissing. But those NEIL LANE earrings! They gotta be seen!

Becca totters into mansion full of women the carrying her metric ton of loot and admits she was "more nervous to come back here," which makes sense. But the producers fail to get any catty quotes from the women and actually they all seem kinda excited, so, like, foiled again!

Becca confessionals she's nervous to see Ari again on their evening date. “It's like the butterfly nerves.” I don't know what those are? I've heard of having butterflies and having nerves but not butterfly nerves. Are butterflies known for their nerves? I mean basically they land on flowers and drink sugar water all day. It seems pretty chill.

Ari plies a sparkly necklace onto Becca because apparently she doesn't have enough phat loot. She says, “I was told you can fix my brakes on my car,” and I'm like damn woman how much more do you need here? I've had women literally offer to make sex tapes for me just if I bought them Louboutins. (I declined—I mean, those things are expensive! Oh also I have my pride, ahem, right that too.)

—

INTERIOR, MANSION: Literally Insane Krystal gets the date card. She can't stop talking in a combination of up-speak and baby talk and it's so grating I can't believe I'm voluntarily watching this. I would run a mile to avoid her. She also looks to me like she's had a LOT of elective face surgery, because her smile is completely uncanny valley, and that’s a pretty scary thing for a woman in her 20′s. Look, I know there are impossible standards of beauty in our society for women, but when you start cutting up your face and turning it into an hideous plastic mask, well, that’s crazy town.

—

DATE, NIGHTTIME: Becca (we’re still on her date) is telling Ari about her dad's death from cancer because that's super hot. Becca is a nice gal and possibly as simple as Ari, they seem like a fine couple to me. I have nothing mean to say about her, except I think her cross wrist tattoo is dumb but I pretty much don't like any tattoos, so. Somewhere in all this he gives Becca the rose.

Ari tells Becca she gets to keep the earrings (I bet she assumed it at this point, because she’s making out like a damn bandit) and then he pulls a handle in the bizarre loft thing they’re in and confetti flies everywhere because who doesn't end dinner with confetti? That's not at all strange.

—

INTERIOR, MANSION, MORNING: Unbelievably insane Krystal is strutting around the mansion and talking in her baby voice. It sounds like, “Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah.”

She's driven to a plane. “HiiiiIIIiiiIIiiiii. Oh my gooooooooooooosh,” she minces to Ari. (Today she’s flying Air Ari.)

Let's pause here. I've been watching this show “UNreal” which is co-created by an ex-PA from The Bachelor and although it's a bit crazier than the real Bachelor it does show how much the PAs interfere and connive and this whole Krystal thing makes me super uncomfortable because of it.

Krystal has, in my opinion, real personality problems. All my alarms go off with her. So the producers are like, OMG, she feels abandoned by her family, she was an abused kid, she's vulnerable now, she has a huge aching need to be liked, LET'S SEND HER TO ARI'S HOMETOWN TO SEE HIS HOUSE AND MEET HIS FAMILY ON THE FIRST DATE because she'll get nuttily attached and when she gets back she'll be a complete bunny-boiler.

Krystal: “It's crazy to think if I lived with Ari, this...could be my life!” EEEEEEK RUN A MILE DUDE RUN A MILE.

Krystal is just SOOOoOOOoooOOoOOO excited to see his home videos and his photo albums, which are oddly analog (he's not THAT old).

Now they're outside his parents’ house. This is just disgusting me. She meets the whole extended family and she's SO EXCITED OH MY GooOOOOooOOD. Krystal asks the parents, “How did you guys meeettttttt?” and I've never heard anyone drag the final consonant (fricative?) like that I feel like she wanted to do a baby talk/upspeak version of that phrase but she ran out of words before she got a chance to add any annoying fake verbal contrivances so she panicked and dragged out the t.

—

INTERIOR, MANSION: Women are figuring out who hasn't gone on a date. A date card arrives, pretty much all women are on it. “Let’s hit love head-on!” it says. Spoilers: they actually back into it, which would have made a funnier date card tag line. Like, “You're fine mother-flippers, why don't you back dat ass up?”

—

EXTERIOR, LA: Krystal: “Where are we goIIIIIING?" They're having dinner at the Bradbury which is like the coolest place ever and now it's been tainted by their bullshit and I’m pissed. They didn't even mention Blade Runner so they're double-dead to me.

Krystal cryfessionals that she's afraid to open up to Ari which, like, GO WITH THAT FEELING, GIRL. YOU ARE CRAZY MAYBE KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

But instead Krystal tells the story of how her family split up and her parents were neglectful and she later found out her brother was living on the street and couldn't figure out how to save him. Of course this is a legitimately sad story but MAYBE not what you share on national TV and/or a first date but whatever.

The issue here is Krystal is obviously incredibly damaged by her past and she should never have been put on this show. She's not a "ha ha hot mess" pretend villain she's a genuinely messed up person and this is the last thing she needs. She needs help and support not to be deprived of sleep and competing with other women and filled with booze.

Ok, Ari is actually being a gentleman about her crazy history and she's melting in his affection and he has no idea the fire he's lighting. Not yet.

He gives her the date rose, and applies some tongue therapy to her. “It was an easy choice to give Krystal the rose, she really was vulnerable...” no no no gonna stop you right there.

They walk to a small theater somewhere and CONNER DERMIT is on-stage, singing his hit song, You've never heard of me, have you? They slow dance to Conner's crooning and I'd like to give a big shout-out to "Audio Rents" in LA who managed to put a big green sticker on Conner's mic right where the camera could see it perfectly. Maybe after this gig Conner can afford his own microphone! They’re not that expensive, Conner, I have a nice Shure one myself and I don’t even sing.

Krystal confessionals how she's held back in love but her speech patterns are so bizarre that I'm amazed how much she sounds like Jason Mendoza on The Good Place. I wonder if she watches that show and is like, “Gosh, he's my hero. He really get it.”

—

INTERIOR, MANSION: Krystal confessionals, “It felt really amazing this morniNNNNNg: waking up, and having my rose?” She should maybe have breakfast cereal instead of roses.

The women are grilling Krystal but she won't tell them anything about her date, she claims it's personal and private (a-OOOG-ah! a-OOOG-ah! Red flag!) but I suspect also because she kinda can't remember things from a day ago or even when they leave her field of vision?

—

This also marks the spot where producers have had a talk with Bekah about her boobs so the rest of the show she is no longer so perky. I imagine the conversation went a lot like this.

—

Most of the remaining horde is now piled into a bus, wearing sporty outfits. They're going to participate in a demolition derby! This seems...kinda insanely dangerous? I mean, they're taking precautions, but still.

Bekah has managed to find a way to be far skimpilier-dressed than all the other women — she's wearing shorty-short-shorts vs. everyone else’s yoga pants. I admire her tenacity. It's like the old saying, "When god closes the door on no bras, he opens up a window into micro-bootie shorts."

(I'd like to mention I'm in no way trying to "slut-shame" Bekah — she's a very fit person and I'm super-stoked she's so comfortable in her own body. SUPER DUPER stoked.)

Ari pulls up in his beater car with great fanfare. The women are all told to paint their cars and then smash into each other until their cars don't move. Again, this seems pretty dangerous.

Annaleise has a breakdown and is crying and doesn't want to do this. Now, this is a legitimate thing because smashing cars is pretty dangerous and I'm sorry I know I'm going to hell but I can't take her seriously here...because: Mikel(?) is nominated to lob her the softball, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you so scared?" And Annaleise is off! I'll just summarize: when she was little she was on bumper cars and her car was "trapped" in middle of other cars and she was upset.

The producers dramatize the story with a nightmare video sequence of bumper cars and screaming where they're clearly mocking her, then they switch to some of the women openly mocking her in confessionals because the producers aren't allowed to just get on-camera and openly mock the contestants themselves, so this is as close as they can come. Who knows if anything bad actually happened to Annaleise and the producers just cut it to look like she’s trying to get attention? Not me.

Ari comes and comforts Annaleise and she decides she can do it after all. Hmmm.

—

Ari instructs the women to back into other cars because all the good stuff is in front. I'd beg to differ, but to each his own.

Cars bump. Some women are especially aggressive, including Bibiana which is funny because she doesn't have a driver's license.

“Annaleise took a big one in the back right there!” says the announcer and I'm not touching that. Annaleise smashes a ton of cars and ends up having fun.

Sienne wins. They show Sienne taking a victory lap and the lazy foley person twice dubs in the sound of tires screeching on the mud field. C'mon.

There’s a group shot with all the women in their fireproof racing suits and Bekah is the only one who’s taken her top down. I really appreciate the extra effort Bekah always puts in. She's like that Matt Damon impression of Matthew McConaughey: "Today's scene, I think it'd be a good opportunity for me to take my shirt off."

—

EXTERIOR, CASTLE(?), NIGHT: What is this place? LA Castle?

INTERIOR, CASTLE(?): Brittany couldn't make it to the afterparty because apparently she hurt herself on the track today. I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO.

We see a lot of confessionals from Bibiana because they're setting up some major DRAMA. Hot Mess Chelsea grabs Ari first again and of course everyone is pissed, but Chelsea hasn't even seen crazy yet. Oh she’s about to be overshadowed big time.

Chelsea tells Ari about her kid. Wheee, what a shocker. We already know Ari's a MILF-hunter, thanks to Emily. Chelsea tells the group how she opened up to Ari about how she left her kid to be here with him and Mikhel(sp?) the very beautiful chef is having none of it and is all "we all gave something up!" You go girl.

Sienne is talking to Ari and she went to Yale and he's like, "I had a cousin in Yale...his name was Yim Yonson!" (Not really.) But it's pretty clear she's WAYYYY to smart for him. Ari actually says (to camera) "I barely graduated high school and worked a Pizza Hut," and you gotta give it to him, he knows his limits. He gives her the old smooches, though, because chix can’t resist the smooches.

We see a big montage of women talking to Ari but in the context of Bibiana having a meltdown because she hasn't gotten any time with Ari. She's M-A-D MAD. I mean, I don't blame her, I'd be totally over this show from the first word, but it’s good TV so have a lot of hot-headed Latina action. My hotheaded Latina friend is watching with me and I’m actually afraid I’m going to catch some fallout from her sympathetic anger for Bibiana.

Now Ari is telling Bekah she's sexy. Her voice is like ear whiskey. They start smooching and the camera does NOT pull away. It's a LONG and WET and SLURPY kiss. I think she's pregnant now?

Cut away: Ari picks up the date rose, “Chelsea: You really opened up to me [more stuff]...and um, Sienne [more stuff] you impressed me today,” and he gives the rose to Sienne. What the hell was with mentioning Chelsea first? Why did he pick out just one woman to mention before the one he was actually giving the rose to? Seems like a dick move.

—

MANSION, NIGHT: montage of women talking about Ari and the politics of rose night.

Ari is a simple man and gives a simple speech to the women. Blah blah rose time is coming.

Ari first talks to Brittany who had the unspecified demolition injury. He gives her a certificate that says "Most Hardcore," and tells her "You can hang it in your room!" because he really is a 10-year-old and his room has all kinds of trophies and certificates on the wall from boy scouts and the like. Also probably an award from Pizza Hut for being “Most Meh Employee.”

Now Ari and Bekah are talking and her voice is so sexy I think I am pregnant. Ari tells her he wasn't sure if she liked him and she’s all no you’re silly and I want to throw up and finally they get back to smooching because seriously they have nothing to say to each other. Smooching sitting down, smooching against the wall, they smooch and smooch. Bekah knows how to smooch. I give this three more episodes before she realizes how boring he is. Bekah: "I'm simple, no drama; I'm easy to please.” Apparently really easy to please.

More Bibiana feeling upset about not getting time with Ari. The whole arc tonight is about Bibiana wanting time and will she get cut?

Krystal confessionals that she's going to talk to Ari some more at the cocktail party even though she has a rose and had a whole day with him. Her voice intonations are seriously crazy. She is unhinged. I think alcohol is messing with the medications I hope she takes. Krystal interrupts Lauren B. who "didn't even have a date this week."

Bibiana confessionals she thinks Krystal is a "selfish BIiiiIITCH" (emphasis hers) and I think that's the first time I've heard that word on this show? The Bachelor’s a pretty conservative show considering how obnoxious it is (c.f. blurring side-boob), which is actually kinda the M.O. of all conservatives, really.

Krystal is crazy-talking to Ari and as far as we see he doesn't kiss he — it seems like he's wising up. The scenes they show he seems more “placating” than “snuggling.” She talks to the other girls about her visit with Ari and her tone is so bizarre I can't even watch it.

We see Mikel(sp?) the beautiful chef asking Ari what color his underwear is and I feel like she's not really making good use of her time here. She's the most gorgeous woman on the show but the fact that they've only shown her say one thing per episode (and it’s been lame each time) means she didn't last long (remember they cut all these shows after the show has wrapped). Ari is the kind of dude who looks at a bucket of fried chicken and is all, "Mmm, I like that dry, tasteless white meat!” so I just don’t think Mikhel lasted long.

The taxidermy woman brings him a stuffed dead thing which I think is great. She's my definite backup after Bekah rejects me. Uh, I mean my first choice? Sorry taxidermy woman whose name I've forgotten. Lauren? I want to say Lauren. Anyhow I love you baby it was always you.

Bibiana finally gets time with Ari. Lots of fanfare. Ari's talking about having his dog in LA with him. Krystal pops her head in. "Hi guysssssss? Do you mind if I...stepped in for a momennnnnnt?" I feel like the producers MUST have put her up to this one, especially because we didn’t see Krystal planning it with the other women and I’m 90% sure Krystal couldn’t open a door without making a plan of attack first. Bibiana respond, “I actually do,” and even Ari says, “Yah, just one minute.” He's starting to. Realize. The. Mistake. He. Has. Made.

Bibiana confessionals how much she thinks Krystal sucks. Krystal says to Ari, “I just...only had a minute and I just...couldn't imagine...going into the rose ceremony even though I already had a rOOOoooose...” and it goes on like that.

Krystal comes out and joins the women and Bibiana tells her off. You can guess how that goes. Bibiana is furious. “When you learn to speak to me like a normal human being and not with a fake tone I can actually respect you and listen to what you have to say but if you really think I'm going to fall for this little ‘Lalalalalalaalalal’ [Bibiana shakes her head side to side] you HAVE to be kidding me.”

It’s not the most eloquent speech but I mean maybe it's healthy for Krystal to hear it straight from someone. She’s got to drop this baby/upspeak act if she’s going to join the human race. I honestly don't see Krystal as a villain, she’s a victim in this — a truly hurting person who doesn’t have the tools to deal with this kind of situation.

Bibiana tells her off a bunch. It hurts because, again, Krystal isn’t an evil person, she's just really messed up and needy.

Ari is summing up the evening with Chris: “Some have exceeded my expectations, and then some have slipped back a little bit.” When Ari says the latter the producers cut forward to Krystal in the lineup holding her rose, which in this case I don't think is much of a stretch — I think even simple Ari has started to realize that Krystal is WAY over-invested in this. If you've ever seen “Blue Jasmine” (the last Woody movie I could manage to watch, thanks for being such a dick Woody I used to really look up to you) Krystal is basically Cate Blanchett's part in this except it’s not a movie it’s her real life.

The women are lined up to be judged by a mediocre dude who likes to drive cars. Wheee.

🌹Maquel. 🌹Jacqueline. 🌹Bekah (DUH). 🌹Jenna. 🌹Chelsea. (I don't remember any of these women, sorry.) 🌹Lauren S. One of the Laurens! I think there's three? 🌹Tia! She's the not-Raven with not-surgery. 🌹Annaleise, who hates nicknames. 🌹Lauren B. I feel like I've never seen her. 🌹Kendal! The sexy fun quirky taxidermist. 🌹Brittney, the whiplash victim. 🌹Ashley, who was worried about going home but it turns out was fine. 🌹Marique, the super beautiful chef who will be cut next week and I'll be sad. 🌹Caroline. Don't feel bad if you don't remember her we've only seen her say like one thing.

Chris: "Ladies, Ari: this is the final rose tongiht."

MUSIC: BUM BUM BUM bum bum!

🌹Bibiana! What a shocker except not at all since they've cut the whole show to be about Bibiana.

Chris: "Ladies I'm sorry..." blah blah.

Some lady I don't recognize seems fine with being cut and hugs him and says goodbye. Maybe a Lauren? Seems like a safe bet. Valerie the server with a red wash in her hair who is SUPER beautiful hugs him goodbye. She reminds me of a movie star or someone else I like a lot and I'm sad to see her go but again we've never seen her say a single line on-camera so we can't be surprised.

The final blonde woman (maybe a Lauren?) is sniffling and stomps past Ari without saying goodbye. He can't abide this! All women must pay him obeisance, even if he just cut them. "Can you give me a sec!" says Ari to his throng as if the women had any ability to decide their own fates on this show, and follows her.

“Hey,” he confronts her. Her hands are on her hips. Ari: “I'm sorry! C'mere, give me a hug at least.” He grabs her clearly against her will. Not OK, Ari! I know you're 10 but you can't force women to hug you just because you feel bad that you made them feel bad. That's not OK!

Unknown possible-Lauren says, “Can...we...talk about it, at least?” and I’m now wondering why she blew past him if she wanted to talk? Ari pulls out the “I had to make tough choices" excuse and I feel like after 22 seasons the producers have a finely honed list of excuses they give the dudes to recite so they don't look like jerks.

Unknown woman says, “I’m not...sad about you, I'm sad about leaving my new friends,” which, I mean, that's a baller move and I respect it but you didn't really need to stop and ask him to talk if it’s true. You could have said it in the limo and it would have been badass.

Ari says, “I know you made friends, but at the end of the day it's more than that here, you know?” It's the second time he's said “end of the day” which is two more times than I've ever said it in my life because it's incredibly trite.

Also, why DON'T they let the rejected women stay in the house? That'd be freaking awesome. They could all carry on with the remaining women and dish and they wouldn't have to bullshit any more and it'd be hilarious. Also if some of us in the audience developed crushes on the less-bland women (*cough* Mikel *cough*) we’d be able to keep seeing them every week even after the main guy decided the only flavor he enjoys in vanilla.

“Okay, give me a hug!” Ari demands and grabs her. She doesn't, like, visibly move away but I'm still saying, don't demand hugs from women. You're not doing this for them, you're doing it so you can feel better, and that’s shitty. Hugs are intimate, don't demand intimacy from anyone.

Unknown possible-Lauren voiceovers “I got...broken up with, for the first time. So, like, shocked!" and look unknown woman I want to be on your side but yipes. First off, you did not get broken up with, you’ve barely spoken to this guy, you weren’t going out. Second off, if nobody's ever broken up with you maybe you have an issue? Like are you dating guys way beneath you, or do you end relationships early because you're afraid of being hurt or you get bored and need to move on? None of these are good looks. You should be dumped. It's part of learning and growing and figuring out what you want. I’m not ashamed I’ve been dumped, I’m only ashamed of the relationships I chickened out of that I should have stayed in.

Unknown possible Lauren: “I literally came into this thinking that I would end up with him,” well c'mon you just said you didn't like him and only liked the other women you're ruining this. She actually shows her fangs: “But he literally picked a [laughs] taxidermist over me.”

OH NO YOU DID NOT. Nobody attacks my #2 girlfriend! "Taxidermist lady" is awesome and creative and fun and she's WAY sexier than you if you want to be shallow. (Which I do, let’s be honest.)

"I just feel like I embarrassed myself." Well, not until you started tearing on the other women, you didn't.

Meanwhile, inside, Ari toasts to an amazing week, and how he's learned a lot about himself. His toast is amazingly Ari-centric, except maybe not amazing because he’s Ari, the 10-year-old.

Hopefully one of those things he’s learned is DO NOT TAKE CRAZY TO MEET YOUR PARENTS.

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