#like people love to hate Amber and thirteen but love house for the same reasons

[ketterdamswinchester]

Never in my life have I seen a fandom more misogynistic than the House M.D fandom.

[baconpncakes]

Amber Lives AU - Part 2

(read part 1)

Amber survived the bus crash! House found a way to save her but still feels responsible for her injuries, so Wilson and Cuddy guilt him into helping her get back on her feet.

Please accept the following vignettes of silliness and genuine human connection between characters who deserve it. Also lesbianism.

~

House comes into Amber's room to check on her while his team runs tests.

Amber: "What's wrong with your patient?" House: "Well, she's got a case of terminal bitchiness." She rolls her eyes. A: "Your other patient." H: "My team has a case. I am playing babysitter." A: "C'mon, House. I have a concussion. I can't work. I can't read for extended periods of time and I'm banned from screens. I know you're as bored in here as I am." H: "...Patient is thirty-five years old. Presenting with-"

~

Amber: “I don't blame you, you know.” House: "....." A: "It was my choice to go pick you up. My choice to follow you onto the bus after you told me not to." H: "...." A: "You weren't driving that truck, House."

~

House: “You’re moping. What’s the matter?” Amber: “I’m not moping. I’m bored.” H: “Bored in a hospital? And you call yourself a doctor. I’d have you do my clinic hours if I thought we could get away with it.” A: “I would love to see Cuddy hunt you down after finding me down there.” H: “But seriously. What’s the mood about?” A: “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you care.” H: “You’re acting weird. I’m curious.” A: “Can’t figure it out on your own?” H: “Probably could. But your life is terrible for a lot of reasons right now and I don’t really feel like narrowing it down.” A: “...I haven’t had any visitors.” H: “What are you talking about? The team came.” A: “Out of pity! Because they'd feel bad if they didn't come. Nobody here likes me and that's fine. I don't need them to." H: “......”

~

House sits by Amber's bedside, brow furrowed, chin and hands resting on his cane, deep in thought. He’s looking at Amber’s leg, as if he can see her stitches through the sheet.

Amber: "...My leg is going to be fine." House: "What?" A: "I know that's what you're worried about. You think that you've crippled me. You think you've ruined my life and turned me into you. Well, you haven't. Even if my leg never fully heals, it wouldn't ruin my life." H: "......Guess we aren't the same after all."

~

House is alone in his office, his mind is clearly worlds away. Cuddy enters.

Cuddy: "Are you okay?" House: "One patient is dying and I don't know why and the other one is a doctor, notoriously the greatest people to treat. I'm totally psyched. Can't you tell from my radiant smile?" C: "I know we said that you should help Amber-" H: "No. You guilted me into keeping her company." C: "-but that doesn't mean you need to spend all of your time here! For god's sake House you've barely left at all since she woke up." H: "I have two patients. You should be thrilled I'm spending so much time here." C: "I'm worried. You can't keep going like this House. You're still recovering." H: "The stimulation didn't do any damage. I'm fine." C: "House." He looks at her. C: "You were on that bus too." He keeps looking. She repeats herself, softer this time. C: "Are you okay?" He looks away.

~

House sits down at Wilson’s lunch table.

House: "Does Amber have any friends other than you?" Wilson: "Are you doing that thing where you confuse yourself with Amber? I have to say it's getting old. Don't you have any new material?" H: "I'm not kidding." W: "Neither am I! The gag has run its course!"

~

Thirteen sits in Amber’s room, reading a book. Amber stares at her. There’s no indication of how long this has been going on.

Amber: "Why are you here?" Thirteen: "I thought you could use some company." A: "Out of everyone here, you have the most right to hate me." 13: "Well I don't." A: "But you don't like me." 13: "You tried to make me question my sanity by taunting me with reminders of the patient I killed. To get a job.” A: "You won in the end. I got fired. You got to stay." 13: "So that makes it all go away? I won, you lost, so we'll call it a wash?" A: "I didn't say that! ...Like I said. You have every right to hate me." 13: "And like I said. I don't." A: “....” 13: “Besides, you’re the one who told House that you hated me.” A: “Spirit of competition. You should be flattered that I considered you worthy of my hate.” 13: “Of course, my mistake.”

~

House: "So. You tried to pick a fight with Thirteen." Amber: "She told you?" H: "Nope! But I know she was in here earlier. And after our conversation earlier it doesn’t seem like something you’d just let slide." Amber nods, relenting to his point. H: "You don't like pity. I get it. But if you think that’s what they’re doing, you’re wrong." A: "Please. Why else would they come here? You sure as hell didn't tell them to. And I'd like to think James is more subtle than that." H: "Obligation maybe. That's what it is for Taub and Foreman at least. For Kutner, I think it's genuine concern. For Thirteen? My guess is curiosity. Could be concern. Maybe even this empathy I've been hearing so much about." A: "Since when are people allowed to have pure motivations?" H: "...Did even half of those motivations sound pure to you?" Amber looks at him for a moment. A: "You are hellbent on showing me that it's not pity. You want me to think they're good people, because you believe that they are. You need me to think that they don't pity me and that they don't hate me, because if they don't hate me or pity me after all I've done then there's a chance they don't hate or pity you either."

~

H: "Wilson must be the worst boyfriend ever. Why am I spending more time in here than him these days."  A: "Very funny. He's just taking some space. He still visits, because of course he does, but I don't exactly blame him for not being here every second."  H: "What are you talking about? You almost died. Doesn't feel like Mr. Needy would want to be away from you after that."  A: "Oh shit. He hasn't told you."  H: "Hasn't told me what?"  A: "..." H: "Oh my god. You guys broke up."  A: "Yes."  H: "After all of this! You break up? What the hell happened?"  A: "Dying changes everything. I was dead, House. Legally, medically dead. And it made me realize some things. I love James and I always will. But he's not what I need."  H: "You really are a cutthroat bitch! Do you have any idea what he sacrificed for you?"  A: "I do. And I know how much that hurts you. Because it is you. And you are everything to him. He was willing to sacrifice everything for me! And even then I still didn't feel how I should!"  H: "What does that even mean!"  A: "Oh my god, House! I'm gay! I'm a lesbian! I can never love James as much as I should because he's not a woman!"  H: "...Give me a minute to process this before I start making jokes about the best relationship of Wilson's life being with a lesbian." A: "I should send a warning before you leave. Give him a chance to prepare himself.”

~

It’s late. House solved the case and his team started the treatment. House went to tell Wilson that his failed lesbian relationship solved the case and is now going to Amber’s room to tell her the same thing. Only when he enters, Thirteen is already there.

Unlike earlier, where she was in a seat a few feet from the bed, lounged back with a book in her hands, this time she’s sat right at the bedside, leaned forward, actually engaging with Amber.

H: “Didn’t realize you were double-booked.” 13: “Sorry, I was just updating Amber on the case.” H: “The case that I solved.” 13: “That’s debatable.”  H: “My epiphany.” 13: “That I had six hours ago before you dismissed it.”  H: “It was stupid six hours ago. If you really believed it, you would have defended it. Which you couldn’t.”  Both women roll their eyes. Amber addresses Thirteen. A: “As entertaining as this is, you better check on your patient.” House cuts Thirteen off before she can start talking. H: “Nope. Kutner is monitoring tonight. Thirteen is off the clock.”  Amber blinks in surprise and looks to Thirteen as if to confirm that House isn’t lying. Thirteen squints at the stupid grin on House’s face and then looks away and shrugs. 13: “Just wanted to drop by. But I probably should get going.” She turns to Amber. 13: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll feel well enough and stay awake long enough to read something.” Thirteen picks up the book that she was reading earlier and places it on Amber’s bedside table. She gives her a small smile and leaves. House watches Amber watch Thirteen leave. Amber realizes that she’s being watched. She scoffs at House. A: “It’s like you think she’s the only bi woman in the world.” House nods at the book beside her. H: “People like you.”

[captainkippen]

hello sir could you write some fluffy tandi friendship for our broken souls when you have the time

send me fic prompts

I absolutely can. I love platonic tandi with all my heart.

It turns out that Bex’s return to Shadyside is just the first event on a long list of unexpected things to happen the year Andi turns thirteen. This list includes, but is not limited to; befriending Jonah, Amber and Marty, Bowie’s decision to move home, and Cyrus coming out. These are things that have had such an impact on Andi’s life that she sometimes still marvels at them all, but there’s one particular event from that year that seems to surprise everyone except her.

Andi and TJ becoming friends.

It’s been roughly three years, four months and five days since TJ came crashing into the lives of the Good Hair Crew. Andi knows this because Cyrus knows this, and Cyrus knows this because, even though he likes to pretend he doesn’t, he has the date scrawled in the corner of the notebook he hides under his bed. If Cyrus and TJ’s relationship had come as a surprise to people, then Andi and TJ’s had been worthy of hitting the front page of the news. They’re very different people, or so everyone tells them. Andi doesn’t agree really. When she looks at TJ she can see the similarities in them like they’re magnified. They’re both headstrong and dramatic. They both cause themselves a lot more trouble than need be most of the time. They have the same sense of humour and the same ambitious drive. In her mind, they’re two sides of the same coin. And she knows TJ agrees.

Sometimes people like to imply that TJ’s been a bad influence on Andi. They act like her standing up for herself is a result of his presence in her life and not that she’s just grown as a person of her own accord. It used to bother her but not she just rolls her eyes and moves along. If they knew the truth they’d know that it’s more likely the other way around; Andi is always encouraging TJ to do stupid things. Her rebellious phase hit hard at fourteen and didn’t stop. It was her idea to have TJ teach her how to fix her motorcycle. It was she who told TJ he could come over when he needed to escape his own house (and she’ll be the first to admit that Bowie’s explosion the first time he’d found TJ crashed out on Andi’s bed after having snuck in during the night was hilarious). A lot of their bad ideas have been her bad ideas, which is not to say it’s never TJ behind them because he’s definitely up to no good a lot of the time too, but they’re equal partners in their chaos.

Everyone else can be surprised if they want, but she knows why they’re friends. They have an understanding. It’s awesome. Them getting close played a big part in Andi and Buffy becoming the people TJ comes to talk to when he needs help coming up with cute new things to do with Cyrus, and her having yet another friend to support her when she realised she might not be as straight as she first thought. She doesn’t need to justify their friendship to anybody.

It’s one of those bad idea kind of nights tonight. They’re at the grocery store and TJ’s parents are out of town so the group is taking advantage of the empty house to have an all-night movie marathon under the guise of a study session. They came for popcorn, just popcorn but it’s been half an hour since they walked through the doors now and all memory of their original goals has been wiped in favour of grabbing every snack possible and dumping it in the cart. The cart in which Andi is sat. Every so often TJ does a little run and jumps on the back of the cart so they go speeding down the aisles cackling like a couple of lunatics. Andi laughs so hard her sides hurt when TJ just narrowly avoids crashing them into a pyramid of toilet roll.

“We’re definitely going to get kicked out soon,” she says.

TJ snorts and shrugs. “You’d think they’d be used to it now. You wanna go to the craft section?”

She nods enthusiastically. For the past couple of weeks, she’s been teaching him how to make his own jewellery. He’s been very insistent about it and she’s beginning to suspect he’s planning to make Cyrus something, but he refuses to confirm or deny it so she’s just been left wondering.

“I’ve been thinking of starting an online store,” Andi says as they browse. She prefers to get her supplies from the craft fair but on occasion, the supermarket has something that catches her eye. Though, to be totally honest, he hasn’t actually needed to go shopping for supplies a lot recently because TJ keeps finding things she can use in thrift stores or garage sales and dumping them on the door of Andi Shack when she’s not looking. He won’t let her pay him back with money but he pretends not to notice when she slips bags of M&Ms into the glovebox of his car and the pockets of his favourite jacket so she’s slowly repaying him in chocolate.

“You should do it,” He says, admiring a roll of lurid pink ribbon. “Could be useful to have some extra cash. You could use for that road trip you keep talking about.”

A road trip across the states; that’s what Andi wants to do before they all leave for college. She’s hoping to convince all of their friends to come with her so they can make some more lasting memories before they’re all split into different directions. The thought of being apart makes her gut twist uncomfortably whenever the topic pops up. She’s all too aware that their last couple of years at high school are going to go by in a flash. All the adults in her life keep reminding her. She hates it.

“You okay?” TJ asks. “You went all quiet.”

She nods. “Just thinking.”

“Scheming?”

“No,” she smiles. “Just… y’know. Thinking about graduation.”

He groans and pushes her further down the aisle. “Will you stop worrying about that, already? We still have another two years to go.”

“I can’t help it!”

“You’re as bad as Cyrus,” he sighs. She makes an affronted noise. Cyrus has been stressing about college applications since they were ten. There’s no way she’s on his level with this.

“I just think it’s going to suck being away from all you guys. It’s never going to be the same again. What if we stop talking or drift apart or something?”

“God, when did you get so emo?” He grins and leans over the side of the cart. “Look, we’re going to be fine. You, Buffy and Cyrus practically have a psychic link, as if that’s ever gonna change. And as for us? Drifting apart? Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with me now.”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. Okay, so I was going to save this for… I don’t know when, but here,” he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to her. In the centre of his palm sits a bracelet. It’s carefully crafted from yellow thread and brown leather, and there’s a small bumblebee shaped charm hanging from it.

“What’s this?”

“A friendship bracelet,” he says as if it should be obvious.

“For me?”

“Duh.”

She beams at him and takes it, slipping it onto her wrist with careful fingers and admiring the way it sits next to the others that she wears. “Is this what you’ve been so sneaky about?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “You’re always making stuff for the rest of us. I figured it was about time someone made something for you.”

“I love it,” she pats the side of his face and he bats her away. “You’re a big softie, you know that right? Like a scary teddy bear.”

“Shut up,” he huffs, but his lips twitch slightly and she knows he’s pleased. “Let’s go get our popcorn. The others will be wondering where we are.”

Yeah. Everyone else can question their friendship, but Andi knows she has no reason to. She and TJ? They’re two sides of the same coin and she’s so glad he’s in her life.

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 17: Saudade

Word Count: 2252

Read on AO3

Two weeks. Two weeks.

It might as well have been two years, Cyrus assumed. TJ had been on vacation for two weeks (thirteen days to be more exact), and Cyrus had never missed anyone more. He knew that TJ wasn’t gone, per se, but he missed him; he missed running his hands through his hair, holding hands and falling asleep next to him, kissing him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

saudade: missing someone so much that it physically hurts

To try and distract himself, he hung out with Buffy as much as he could, considering he couldn’t go to Andi.

“You have to talk to her,” Buffy mumbled into the phone.

“What if she hates me? It’s been a long time,” he worried, pacing around his small room.

“Cyrus, Andi loves you. You know she wouldn’t stay mad at you forever. She really cares about you,”

“I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, hanging up and grabbing a pair of shoes.

It felt oddly chilly outside, considering Cyrus had to rub his biceps furiously as he walked to Andi’s house. The closer he got, it appeared, the harder it was to move his legs forward. It was as if he was being held back by cement.

Step.

Everything was going to be okay, right? Buffy was usually right, so why shouldn’t he believed her now?

Step.

Nope, bad idea, bad idea. Why not just give up now? What’s one less friend.

Step.

No, he could do this. Things were going to be okay; they were going to sort things out.

He knocked twice, albeit shakily, and waited. And waited. And waited. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Andi really didn’t want to talk to him and was purposely avoiding him. Or. . .maybe she just wasn’t home. Or maybe-

Before he could finish that thought, the door swung open. And it looked like Andi was almost smiling, but the moment she saw Cyrus, her face fell.

“Hey,” she murmured, staring down at her feet. She dug her toes into the carpet, trying to distract herself.

“Can I come in?”

She nodded weakly, stepping aside for him. Cyrus slipped his shoes off, and she nodded up the stairs, Cyrus following behind her. It felt like he hadn’t been up here in ages. He’d missed having sleepovers with her and Buffy; they had mostly stopped once they’d entered high school because they just didn’t have time anymore.

The moment that they sat on the bed, the words flowed out quickly, as if they were held back by a dam.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he began, “I didn’t mean to be so rude, I’m so sorry, Andi. I just. . .when you were talking about me and TJ, I just thought it was something so outlandish,”

Andi nodded silently, breathing out softly. “Sorry for meddling,”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing, I should. And I’m sorry,” he murmured, putting his hand on Andi’s shoulder. Her lips twitched up into a hesitant smile, the tension in the room easing up a little. She pulled him in for a hug, and there they stayed for a little while.

“Plus you were right,” Cyrus added, an impish grin gracing his face, “about me and TJ,”

Her whole face lit up, clapping her hands in excitement. “Cyrus!”

“Hi,”

“So, how’s it been with you two? Tell me everything,” she insisted, propping her head up with her elbows, and batting her lashes.

Cyrus shrugged, but the smile on his face spoke for itself. “It’s been great,” he admitted, flopping back onto her bed and staring at the ceiling, “I miss him though. He’s been on vacation for almost two weeks. But he comes back in two days,”

“Are you worried? About. . .him spending time with his mom?”

Cyrus nodded, tracing over the seams of Andi’s bedsheets. “Yeah,” he said, his voice timid and nervous, “I just hope he’s okay,”

“He will be. He’s strong,” she reminded him, placing a hand on his head, “okay, no more sad talk. We should do something fun, you, me, and Buffy. I feel like we haven’t hung out all summer,”

“How about a sleepover, like the kind we used to have in middle school?” Cyrus suggested, “I miss those,”

the ghc

[andi: sleepover today? my house]

[buffy: can’t wait, i’ve missed things like this <3]

“Buffy’s in. So. . .movies and junk food until we pass out?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

It was hot. Too hot. There was a reason TJ didn’t like the beach; there was too much sand, the sun was never hidden, and the squacks of seagulls was anything but peaceful. How people could fall asleep, he had no idea. Not even his sunglasses helped him from squinting in order to not be blinded.

Amber seemed to have no problem with the beach; she loved the way the sun lightened her hair, the way the ocean breeze kissed every inch of her skin, the comfort in knowing she could simply lie down and do nothing.

“Do you miss him?” she asked, dragging her fingers through the sand.

Amber really could read his thoughts, couldn’t she. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “a lot. I just wanna go home,” he grumbled, staring off into the distance, where his mom was chatting with a group of ladies.

Amber scooted her chair closer putting a hand on her brother’s arm. “. . .I’m sure she’ll come around, TJ,” she promised, watching as their mother mingled like she was at a party.

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure,” he huffed, squirming under her touch, “she’s barely said a word to either of us this entire trip. I mean, at least she talks to you a little, but she hasn’t said anything to me,”

Amber forced herself to not be irked by his movement. “Just two more years and then you get to go to college,” she tried, offering a sympathetic smile, “guys like you are gonna be cool in college,”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, putting his hands over his face, “Cyrus is going to go to some Ivy League on the other side of the coast, and I’m going to go to some rinky-dink community college ten minutes from here,”

“Hey, don’t say that,” she pressed, pushing her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose, “you could get a basketball scholarship,”

TJ scoffed, shaking his head at the very idea. Sure, he loved basketball and yeah, he was pretty decent at it, but pretty decent wasn’t going to peak the scouts’ interests. “If I’m lucky. I just don’t want to think about going to college and having to. . .” he trailed, the words unable to come out.

“. . .break up with him?” Amber finished for him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, so softly that Amber nearly didn’t hear him. Ah, the lovely feeling of vulnerability.

Amber felt a little guilty for bringing it up, a gnawing feeling in her stomach. “Hey,” she gave his hand a squeeze, “that’s a while from now. Live in the moment, right? Things are okay now,”

TJ smiled, tilting his head back. “Yeah, things are okay,”

“We’ve already seen Mulan a thousand times,” Cyrus whined, leaning back against the couch and pulling his blanket up to his neck.

“It’s the best Disney movie,” Buffy argued, selecting the movie while ignoring Cyrus’ pleas.

“Hm, I think Beauty and the Beast begs to differ, but whatever,” Andi mumbled, poking Buffy’s side. It was harder now for them all to fit on the couch now that they had grown (now that Buffy and Andi had growth spurts, more specifically), but they didn’t mind being pushed together. It was just like old times; movies, chip crumbs littering the couch cushions, and more blankets than were probably safe.

Cyrus barely paid attention to the movie. He spend most of the time checking his phone for any new texts. Andi and Buffy picked up on this, giving each other knowing looks.

“TJ?” they asked.

Cyrus felt his face burn, tucking his phone in his pocket. “No,” he lied, “not. . .really, at least. He hasn’t texted me,”

Buffy’s face softened, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m sure he’s just busy spending time with his mom and Amber,” she soothed, “he’ll text you when he can,”

“Have you heard from Amber?” Cyrus asked, turning to Andi.

“A little,” she admitted, “she said that their mom is trying to keep them occupied with things to do. She mostly just texts me before bed,”

Cyrus nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. “How are things with you and Marty?”

Buffy smirked, cracking her fingers. “Let’s just say that I haven’t lost an arm wrestle,”

Andi rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You and only you would say that when someone asks you about your relationship,”

Buffy chuckled, tossing a pillow at her. “Oh, hush, you. You’re just jealous that me and Marty make a cuter couple than you and Amber,”

“I’m not jealous, because that’s completely false,” she countered, crossing her arms.

“I think we’re forgetting the point of this sleepover,” Cyrus mumbled, smiling mischievously, “that TJ and I are the cutest couple,” he insisted, turning up the TV loud enough so that he didn’t hear Andi and Buffy coo over his affection for the other boy.

“. . .previously on Worst Cooks in America,”

Jonah grumbled, grabbing a pillow and holding it to his chest. Maybe trying to binge two seasons of the show within two days was a mistake. His eyes burned every time he blinked, he was fairly certain he hadn’t drank water for two days, and he was still in the same clothes.

Then came a knock at the door, and he tossed his pillow aside. His hands ran down his face; he really needed to wash his hair. Slinging his legs over the couch, he managed to get himself up and to the door. And once he opened it, he felt every part of his body jolt awake.

“Walker!” he cried, reaching forward and pulling him into a hug, “God, I missed you so much,” he whispered into the other boy’s shirt, clutching it tightly.

“I missed you too,” the other boy replied, quick to drop his bags and wrap his arms around Jonah, “how was life here?”

Jonah pulled back, shrugging. “Uneventful. Boring without you,” he admitted, taking his bag and ushering him inside, “how was Florida?”

Walker rubbed his head, melting into the couch with a contented sigh. “It was alright. Nice to see relatives gush about how much I’d grown. And meanwhile I’m here like ‘I’m just going to hug this person I don’t know’,” he chuckled, putting his feet up.

“I know that feeling. That’s what Easter is like when my mom hosts it,” he shuddered, “the great Easter of ‘08 has still not left our minds,” he added, “how was the 4th of July down there?”

Walker nearly rolled his eyes, pulling a pillow into his chest, his eyelids drooping down. “Loud. Bright. A little overwhelming. I kinda wish you were there,”

Jonah smirked, taking the boy’s hand. “Only kinda?”

Walker didn’t have the energy to argue with him, so he just tugged him a little closer. “Shh,” he hummed, “I’m tired, I just wanna sleep,”

Jonah shook his head, his hair gently brushing the other. “Fine. But when you wake up, you better tell me more about all the fun you had without me,”

Walker breathed out a laugh, shutting his eyes. “You mean like all the pretty girls I saw?”

Jonah stuck his tongue out in response. “Dork,” he mumbled, and when no response came, he knew Walker was probably asleep.

“I miss you so much Cyrus,” TJ murmured, leaning against the sink. The bright lights made him squint at the other boy on the other side of the screen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, careful to not wake Andi and Buffy, who had fallen asleep recently, “I just wanna give you a hug. How’s the vacation going?”

“I’m really happy it’s almost over,” he admitted softly, “it’s been really. . .awkward,”

Cyrus frowned; he wanted nothing more than to just reach through the screen and plant a soft kiss on TJ’s forehead. Unfortunately, technology hadn’t advanced that far yet. “How’s your mom been?”

“She’s been ignoring me,” he huffed, pouting, “which I guess it better than her saying hurtful things. But I wish she’d just treat me like she used to,”

“I’ll see you really soon, though. And then we’ll get to hang out, just you and me. I love you,”

“Love you too,” he murmured, shutting off the video chat, and slipping his phone into his pocket. It physically hurt him to be away from Cyrus for such a long time, but it was only for another day. He was getting back tomorrow; and the only people that knew were his mom and Amber, obviously, and Leslie. He’d made sure to tell her to not say a work to Cyrus, and he was fairly certain that his plan had worked. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Cyrus’ face.

Crawling out of the bathroom he snuck into the bed with Amber, trying not to shake her awake.

“Talking to Cyrus?” she whispered, turning to face him.

He nodded, tugging the covers up to his neck. “I miss him,”

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” she reminded him, “good night,” she turned onto her other side, tugging the covers a little closer to her.

“Night,”

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush || @tyrus-lookback || @gaycefulwords || @theobligatedklutz || @bambikippen ||

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Fait Accompli Fandom: Harry Potter, Assassins Creed Characters: Petunia Durlsey, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter Warnings: emotional manipulation, heavily implied eugenics, misuse of science, heavily implied mental manipulation, implied child abuse, character death Parts: I | II | III Summary:  Petunia Dursley neé Evans had a lot of regrets in her life. Her sister, their estrangement, her marriage. This, she determined, would not be one of them. Notes: This was literally the first Assassin’s Creed fanfiction idea I ever had, and it was a crossover. This idea initially came to me when I started to play the first Assassin’s Creed in a build up anticipation for Odyssey. I had a hard time writing it originally so I scrapped it. I worked on Dreaming Bitter Darkly instead after Odyssey came out and that became my first Assassin’s Creed fic. Needless to say this isn’t going to be an emotionally happy story. At all. Petunia is not a nice woman, and this is 100% from her point of view. I do have a “sequel” planned, or rather a series of 3 stories that will take place. This and it’s two parts (still being written) and another short story that technically takes place at the same time, to set up the background for the story that I wanted to write originally.

I’m still not sure how it’ll go, but I figured I’d put this mess out there.

“Thank you for not slamming the door in my face,” Petunia said softly. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, and from what she could see the girl in front of her tried rather hard to be accommodating despite the utter distaste. Petunia scrutinized her as subtly as she dared—she didn’t know what this child could do, not like she knew her nephew. The red hair was garish, didn’t fit her face at all, and the brow eyes reminded her far too much of the amber color from years Petunia wanted to forget.

“For whatever reason Harry loves you,” Ginny said as she set two cups of tea down on the table.

“And you love him,” Petunia took her cup and sipped the tea. Excellently made, she noted.

“I do,” Ginny agreed. She held on to her own cup tightly, knuckles white from the grip. Petunia set the china down and breathed out heavily.

“How far along are you, dear?” Petunia asked instead. “Your third, right?” She watched how Ginny’s face lit up with a smile, a little splotchy with the freckles that didn’t quite do her any favors—or at least, Petunia didn’t think so. She was so plain, but perhaps that was what Harry liked. Petunia wouldn’t know.

“Yes,” Ginny said, and her voice was bright and cheerful at the thought of the child. “A daughter.”

“A daughter?” Petunia let a smile cross her face. “Harry would love that.”

“He does,” Ginny agreed, voice soft.

A daughter. Petunia glanced to the swell of Ginny’s belly and felt—empty.

Lily named the boy Harry James Potter. Petunia didn’t know how she felt, to know the child bore that name, but she pushed on. Raising her nephew was no easy task and it wasn’t because Vernon hated the boy, although Vernon did make the task far harder than Petunia would’ve liked. No, little Harry was a silent tyke and struggled with his words. He made it apparent that there was something wholly Other about him in the way that Lily nor Petunia were as children. Petunia glowed, and Lily had always been ethereal in likeness, but Harry took it to other places.

Vernon hated anything different, foreign or otherwise. James Potter made the man infuriated, and it wasn’t a surprise to Petunia that he hated the man’s son just as much. Harry looked nothing like the family except that she had Lily, and by that notion Petunia and Lily’s father’s, bright green eyes. The almond shape wasn’t even quite like Lily’s—it held more of that Potter in it than anything. He lacked the red-as-blood hair, or the pale spun locks of Petunia’s and took far more after his own father.

Dark skin, foreign, with bright eyes and unmanageable hair. Petunia knew all about unmanageable hair—Lily’s hair had been a nightmare to take care of, far too curly and wild shaped to be tamed, but they did tame it. Harry had the thick nest of dark locks that didn’t work the way Lily or Petunia’s own hair did. It went everywhere, refused to come right, and drove her batty. She tried to shave it down short and for a time as an infant it worked, but the older Harry grew the less he allowed his hair to be short.

There were other discrepancies of course not associated with his gift. He watched the birds with uncanny and sharp eyes, almost inhuman, and when he did speak—well, the boy couldn’t make up his mind what language he was supposed to talk in. Some days he spoke proper English and others he spoke Arabic, a language Petunia only knew because of her Uncles. Petunia never displayed this, never spoke the language at home or around her own child, and reprimanded the boy when he did so without prompting.

For the longest time when Harry finally started school the teachers were concerned that he had some strange sort of disability. Petunia worked to disabuse them of the notions, to get the boy to speak English as much as possible, and to remind him precisely that his Uncle would hate to hear of how freakish he happened to act. The way the small child would stare at him, with wide eyes that made her think of Lily had Petunia’s heart clenched.

At the age of eight Harry needed glasses, so Petunia took him and got him a pair and that was when she decided to contact her Uncles and let them know about the boy. She had eight years of observed interactions, and they rarely talked to her these days as their focus was on far more fruitful endeavors. Especially since Dudley showed no real signs of any sort of inheritance of the likes of Lily or herself. Petunia resented them, a little, in how they cut her out and deemed her child a failure.

“How much does he know?”

Petunia looked to Harry who stared up at the doctor that drew a bit of the boy’s blood and pursed her lips.

“Nothing,” Petunia said eventually. “Severus was never recruited.”

Her Uncle hummed and murmured a faint, “A pity. The boy had potential. His father?”

“James Potter.”

They had no records on Potter, no knowledge of the lineage, but at least now they might have a chance, Petunia noted, with how much they drew and the varied sets of samples.

“Keep him ignorant,” her Uncle said. “We might have a use for the boy.”

Petunia nodded her head and collected Harry who stared at her Uncle, and at the doctors who eyes far too old for his face.

At ten Harry came up to her dressed in Dudley’s rags. He looked at her with those too old eyes and carefully fished out a necklace with a cross and set it on the counter. Petunia looked down at the boy and refused to look at the cross he handed her.

“They can’t be trusted,” Harry said in clear spoken English with a whisper of a voice.

“No,” Petunia agreed. “They cannot.”

Two months later Harry turned eleven and the letters started to arrive. Petunia watched events unfold as Vernon grew more and more enraged with the idea of her nephew to enter that world. Petunia let him, didn’t counter any arguments he made because Petunia could admit she hated them. She hated how they turned Lily from her, and that no matter what she tried she couldn’t get her little sister back. She hated that they made her into a liar with a broken promise.

Albus Dumbledore was at least a somewhat decent whatever it was he was. He kept Petunia up to date over the years about the messes her nephew got up and into. Without his comments Petunia would never have gotten Harry into the lessons that would lead toward his survival. She didn’t like the man. He made her chest feel as if it were full of cold fire and fury. Whatever Albus Dumbledore was Petunia knew he couldn’t be trusted with her nephew’s welfare, just as he couldn’t ever be trusted with Lily’s.

Just as their Uncles couldn’t be trusted, either, but Petunia kept those misforgiving’s to herself.

That first year when Harry came home Petunia talked with him about death, and about his responsibility toward the death of his teacher. They talked in the dead of night, with whispers through the door to the boys room about what he’d seen and felt.

I didn’t like it.

You shouldn’t like it, boy.

I don’t want to kill anyone, Aunt Petunia.

Petunia explained that sometimes others didn’t care about the wants and needs of the people around him. They talked for hours, and then the twins showed up and stole the boy away. The coldness in Petunia’s heart reminded her of lies. The boy had spoken about how he never wanted to return to a world that would do what his professor had done, and then the boy was gone.

Good riddance.

Harry was near thirteen when Petunia signed him up for lessons with an old blade master that she happened to learn of from one of the neighborhood get togethers of the various wives. She hated the idea that the boy would learn to fight with a blade, but she knew a lost cause when she heard one. Harry came home that year with tales of a giant snake, of an item that possessed a girl, and of a sword that he’d barely had been capable of using to defend himself with.

It…felt natural.

To kill?

To hold a sword. Not to kill. Killing…killing isn’t natural, Aunt Petunia.

Good. Never let killing be natural, boy.

The sword lessons kept the boy out of the house while Vernon’s sister visited and kept the friction between them to a minimum. Not for the first time Petunia debated a divorce from her husband, debated to just take her son and her nephew and leave in the dead of the night. A small part of her though felt as if the choice of husband made for her couldn’t have been wrong. Her Uncles never led her astray as a girl, why would they as a woman?

Petunia hated Marge more than she hated anything, so when the boy lost control over his gift and forced the foul woman to blow up like a balloon, Petunia hid a smile in her wine glass. He left that same day, and Petunia cancelled his blade lessons with a smile still hidden on her face.

At fourteen the boy had grown to be lanky. He wasn’t tall. Vernon refused to give the boy food enough that Petunia doubted he’d ever be tall like her, but he was thin as a wisp and that was a true Evans trait. These nights Harry joined her in the living room while Vernon snored and Dudley slept. He looked haunted and confused during their whispered talks. His too old eyes looked age appropriate this summer and that felt wrong to Petunia.

Are they human?

The question haunted her, a little, Petunia knew. She wondered if what she’d been told was true. Were these ‘wizards’ and ‘witches’ the last descendants of the Precursors, or were they merely the next evolution of humanity? Petunia didn’t know science, didn’t know genetics. She followed orders like a good girl, married who she’d been told, practiced her gifts as commanded, and recited the rules as needed. She was a good puppet.

I don’t know.

I don’t think they are.

Harry spoke about how some of them could change their shape, become an animal, and how that felt unnatural and as natural as breathing to him in both ways. They talked about things, senses, that the boy had that he didn’t understand. He brought up the strange disconnect between his own memories, the fantastical tales of time travel. Petunia didn’t doubt the time travel.

There is an artifact, Petunia whispered as the boy curled into her lap in the dead of night, that can turn back time. Or at least we think it can. Ancient…powerful tools.

When Petunia looked into the boy’s eyes she knew—he understood precisely what she spoke of.

[rememberstilinski]

last christmas || dave hodgman (smut)

word count: 6,433

warnings: smut, protected sex, girl on top, angsty as fuck

author’s note: y’all i literally pounded this out and i hope it’s as good as i think it is lmao. i’m exhausted and proofread most of this, but i apologize for my errors because i may not have caught anything. also, i’m so sorry for taking forever to get out a fic, i’ve just been so busy and i’ve felt like shit, but now that i have a break from school, i can finally get back to posting on scheduled days! anyway, enjoy some dave!

pairing: dave hodgman x reader

holiday masterlist.

masterlist.

There are many terrible things. One is spilling scorching hot coffee all over yourself while wearing a white shirt. Another is waking up early and not having the time to get ready on a Monday morning. However, perhaps the worst thing is going back to a place that you genuinely hated. A place that held more heartbreak than it did happiness.

For Y/N Y/L/N, that place was her hometown in Northern California. The town she never really liked. She always wanted to get out. She dreamed of leaving for as long as long she could remember. She couldn’t wait for the day she got in the car and drove off, never to look back at the town that held so much angst.

You might be wondering why she holds so much resentment for the town she grew up in. Well, she had pretty good reasons. Her father had died when she was thirteen in a car accident on the bridge that led into the town her family lived in. He was the most important person in her life. The two of them were like two peas in a pod, they understood each other in ways no one else did.

Then he passed and it was like a piece of her went with him. Her once perfect grades took a colossal hit. The straight A’s plummeted to C’s and D’s. The happy smile she always wore died and wasn’t ever seen again. At least not until she met him.

His name was Dave Hodgman. He was a just a boy. Just a boring, hormonal teenage boy. But to her, he was more than just Dave. He was the one who made her smile like she did before losing her father. The grins she wore stretched across her face to her ears. Her eyes sparkled with life unlike they had for the four years she lived without her father.

He made her happy. He brought her back from herself in ways she didn’t think was even possible. Whether it was the way he sang to her as they drove in his car while taking Stella to the park, or the way the way he smiled at her with that beautiful grin every time he saw her. She loved the way he held her hand and stroked her knuckles oh so gently with the rough pad of thumb.

Whenever he muttered the three words, that he was the first one to say, her heart did a backflip and butterflies flew around in her tummy. He was this ball of light and happiness she’d needed for so long. And she loved him unlike she could have ever imagined.

When you fall in love with someone, it’s a dangerous game. You put so much trust in them that you’ll fall and they’ll catch you, holding you safely in their arms, never to let go. She thought that was what happened with him, but that was before the breakup.

“Just say it, Dave.” She mumbled almost inaudibly, looking at her hands, sitting in the passenger’s seat next to said boy. The light from the street lamps poured into the car, the light shining over her soft skin.

They’d just gotten back to her house from a date at the movie theater. The car was parked in the driveway, right behind her own car. She noticed

how quiet he was, how he didn’t smile like he did a week ago. He didn’t kiss her the same way. His lips were weak against hers.

She knew why he wasn’t the same. That was probably was hurt the most. It was because he fell in love with someone else. Someone else took his attention, captured his heart. It was that girl he met at the left from Friday night. Aubrey, was her name.

Y/N wasn’t stupid. She noticed that Dave kept looking back at the blonde girl he’d only just met, their eyes were on each other all night. He basically ignored his girlfriend when he saw Aubrey walk into the theater. He was pulling away and it hurt like hell.

“Say what?”

She finally looked at him, not having looked into his wonderful eyes all night. He turned his head to look back at her, the tears pooling in her eyes noticeable because of the dim light. “Break up with me already.” She shook her head.

“What do you mean? Why would I do that?”

She scoffed. “Because I’m not Aubrey!” Her quiet voice grew intense and angry, her chest aching with a pain similar to what she felt everyday after father died. “You don’t look at me like how you were looking at her all night anymore. You don’t light up when I walked into the room like you used. You don’t kiss me the same. You don’t blush when you see me anymore.”

Her vision was blurry, her tears warm as they slid down her cheek. The liquid left streaks in her face makeup, her mascara was flaking around her eyes. “You don���t love me anymore, Dave.” Her fragile voice broke, a sniffle following soon after.

“Why would you say that? Of course I love you.”

“I’m saying it because you don’t feel the same. You might love me, but you’re not in love with me.” She swallowed, looking back to her hands. “I don’t know how you fell for her so quickly or if you ever even really fell in love with me. I mean, you just abandoned your feelings for me so suddenly, I don’t if you ever loved me like I loved you.”

Dave‘s face softened as he began shaking his head. “Y/N, I-”

“Don’t. Just, please, don’t. Just break up with me now and get it over with. We both know it’s bound to come.”

He was silent as he looked down to his jeans, his hand smoothing over the rough material. He glanced back up at her with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s the thing, Dave.” She breathed out, her eyes burning with hot tears. “You’re not.”

It’s been over a year since that night and she could still feel that dull ache that lived in her hollow chest. She hadn’t spoken to him since that night, she hadn’t looked at him. She avoided him entirely. It was easier on her heart that way.

Instead of letting herself fall into this downward spiral, she kept herself together. She used all her anger and became stronger than what she used to be. She maintained her grades, she got into going to the gym, finding a way to channel her emotions from the breakup. She was better than she’d ever been, but she wished it was under different circumstances.

After high school, she left her hometown and went to college out of state. She was happy being in a new place, but there was always that constant ounce of pain radiating from her heart. The pain of losing all she’d ever truly loved.

The intensity of how it felt grew as soon as she drove past the ‘welcome’ sign of the town she grew up in. She sighed, just ready to get the holidays over with and see her family. However, before she went home she had to make her way to the grocery store.

A few minutes ago, she received a message from her mother about needing some milk. Y/N took the familiar route to the store that was just around the corner from her childhood home. Within minutes, she was pulling into a parking spot in the small lot.

She made her way into the store and quickly walked to the back of the store, grabbing a gallon of milk. A buzz from her back pocket made her stop in her tracks as she walked towards the cash register.

Pulling out her phone, another text message from her mother lit up the small screen.

mom (6:46 pm): hi, honey! could you also grab band aids? molly scraped her knee

Y/N responded with a confirmation on buying the band aids for her little sister. Molly was eight years old and Y/N assumed that she’d been playing outside and fell off her bike. The little girl was still learning how to ride a bicycle and Y/N made a promise to teach her while she was home for the holidays.

It’d been awhile since she had come to this store for anything in the health and beauty section, but with a quick thought, she remembered where that particular section was and with no more troubles, she walked to the aisle with the rest of the things she needed. She hurried to grab the bandages and went to the cash register.

While she waited in line, she looked around, some of the faces she saw vaguely familiar. She even noticed a couple people who she went to high school with, but they weren’t anyone important. No one she ever talked to anyway.

She looked to the side and went to grab a pack of mint mojito gum, but someone else’s hand grazed over hers, clearly going for the same package. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She mumbled, waiting for the other person to grab their gum before she grabbed hers, tossing it on the conveyor belt along with the box of bandages and milk.

“It’s really no problem.”

The voice made her stomach drop. Her palms suddenly felt clammy and her cheeks were undoubtedly flushed with a light pink color. She knew that voice. She would never forget that voice.

Swallowing nervously, she glanced up at the person behind her. Her breath hitched in her throat, the long sleeved shirt she was wearing suddenly making her too hot. The amber eyed man furrowed his eyebrows, clearly recognizing his ex girlfriend.

“Y/N!” He said, surprise evident in his deep voice. “W-What are you doing here? I thought you were away for school.”

“I was, but I’m visiting my mom and Molly for Christmas.” She said, her tongue gliding over her smooth lips, a habit she had for when she was nervous.

Dave nodded in understanding. “Yeah, me too.” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. Neither of them knew what to say. What could you really say to the one who broke your heart at three o’clock in the afternoon in a grocery store? “It’s nice to see you. You look great.”

Y/N nodded, walking forward as the cashier began ringing her up. “I know.” She replied, turning to the cash register as the woman looked between the two past lovers, the awkward tension thick in the air. Dave smiled softly at her response, stifling a laugh.

The conversation ended there, nothing else left to be said. The woman scanning Y/N’s items finished up, giving her the plastic bag and the receipt. “Have a good day, Merry Christmas.” She said, Y/N returning the saying with an ingenuine smile.

She hurried to leave the grocery store, walking over to her car, fumbling with her keys. What just happened had Y/N shaking, her breath gone. She hoped prior to her trip that she wouldn’t see either Dave or Aubrey. She couldn’t take facing either one of them. It hurt too much to put into words.

Seeing him was like all the oxygen was sucked out of the air and her lungs were burning with the need for the essential gas. It made the ache in her heart intensify with a thousand thorns holding her organ, squeezing until she was left holding her chest on the ground.

The sky was dark and there a chill in the air she felt when it was about to snow, but she didn't expect a white Christmas. It wasn’t impossible for it to snow in her hometown, but it wasn’t very likely there would be any snow.

She tried to push the key into the keyhole on the side of car door, completely forgetting about the button on the keychain she could’ve pressed instead. With her anger increasing, she felt her eyes gloss over as every memory she ever shared with the man she just ran into flooding in her brain, flashing like a kaleidoscope.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, calming herself down. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, not wanting to be seen crying in the grocery store parking lot. Y/N pushed the key into its hole, twisting it to unlock the door.

Before she could get in, long, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, keeping her from going far. She looked to see who grabbed her and it was Dave. Who else?

She shook her head, refusing to talk to him. “No, no. Go away.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

She laughed mockingly. “Talk? Dave, I have nothing to say to you. Do you really think I want to talk to you after what you did?”

A look of emotional agony passed over his face, one that she didn’t fail to notice it. As much as it hurt her own heart, she had to stay strong. She couldn’t let the walls she spent so long building up tumble right back down again. “That’s why we should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I came back to be with my family. I did not come back for you, I did not come back to build a friendship. What I did was build a bridge and got over it.” She exclaimed, her eyebrows scrunched together. Her face was flushed, the cold and her anger playing into the pinkish tint on her cheeks.

“I just want to talk to you.” He mumbled, looking at her with hurt in his beautiful eyes. She was close to giving in, close to falling into his arms and letting him hold her as she cried. But they weren’t that couple anymore. He wasn’t the same Dave Hodgman she fell in love with as a teenager. He was someone who hurt her.

“I’ve gotta go.” She shook her head slowly, pulling away from Dave, his hand falling from her small wrist. He didn’t get the chance to say anything else, she turned on her heel setting the bag in the passenger’s seat, pulling the door closed. She made quick work of putting on her seatbelt and starting the car, pulling out of the parking lot without looking back to Dave.

Y/N drove the two minutes to her house, stopping in the driveway in front of the closed garage. Finally breathing evenly, she sighed deeply, her hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She threw her head back against the headrest, needing a few moments to gather herself before entering her house to see her mom.

She grabbed the grocery bag and milk carton from the seat next to her and the duffel bag with all her clothes for the break from the backseat. She entered the house and instantly heard feet running across the hardwood flooring. Looking up, she saw Molly running towards her with a grin. There was a red scrape that was beginning to bruise right on her knee cap.

“Y/N!” The little girl exclaimed happily.

“Molly!” She dropped her duffle bag and set the stuff she bought from the store next to the door, bending down to hold her little sister in a tight hug. Molly tackled her into the floor, her arms wrapped around Y/N’s body.

“Did you bring my band aids?” She asked as she rested her chin on her older sister’s shoulder. Chuckling, Y/N nodded and grabbed the bag with the bandages and opened it up, putting one on the cleaned scrape.

She kissed her pointer finger, gently pressing her fingertips against the bandaged scrape. “All better.” Y/N stood up, pulling Molly along to the kitchen to see their mother busying herself with a recipe. “Hi, mom.” She smiled brightly.

“Hi, honey!” The older woman walked around the kitchen island wrapping her daughter up in a tight and comforting embrace. Y/N nuzzled her face into her mother’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet gingerbread smell that lingered in the air from all the baking the woman was clearly doing. “What happened?”

Y/N realized her mother must’ve sensed how her daughter clung to her, needing parental comfort after seeing Dave. “I saw him. I saw Dave at the store and we talked… kinda.”

Her mother sighed and held on tighter, rubbing her hands up and down her back in a comforting matter. “Oh, baby. What did he say?”

“He wanted to talk. But I panicked and came home. I think I hurt his feelings.”

Pulling away, Y/N’s mom cupped her cheeks, looking into the sparkling eye color that they shared. “It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She smiled genuinely, pushing a piece of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

“It hurt to see him.” She uttered, almost shamefully. “I-I couldn’t breathe. I still can’t breathe.” She said, trying taking a deep breath.

“It’s called heartbreak, sweetheart. Everyday it’ll get easier, I promise.”

Y/N nodded, hugging her mom once again. She sniffled, keeping herself from crying. If she’d known that coming back home would bring up these feelings again, she wouldn’t have ever said yes to returning.

A few hours later, the three ladies of the house had finished watching some Christmas movie. Molly was passed out, laying against her mother who was also sleeping peacefully. Y/N looked at the timed and realized it was almost eleven o’clock at night and she was drained, both physically and emotionally.

She got off the couch and grabbed a blanket from the closet, throwing it over her mother and sister, giving them both sweet kisses on the head. “I love you, guys. Sweet dreams.”

With a soft smile, she turned off the television and went up to her bedroom, making sure the door was locked on her way. She entered her old bedroom, the place pretty well kept. She had her mom to thank for that. She changed out of her clothes, slipping on shorts and a thin shirt.

With sleepiness pooling in her eyes, she yawned and sat at her old desk. Everything was just as she left it. Her pens and pencils still in the cup in the corner, a pile of books still stacked off to the side. A notebook sat in the center and Y/N opened it, having forgotten what was written on its pages.

She chuckled as her eyes scanned each word. It was all just living expenses and plans for when she bought her apartment. She set a budget, and the organization made her giggle. What could she say? It helped her out more than she thought it would.

Closing the notebook, she looked around more. Scratches were on the wearing wood. A light bulb went off as she remembered the hidden compartment in the second drawer. She opened it up, taking out the wood covering to dig around through the neglected objects.

She pulled out a stack of pictures and small slips of paper. Setting them on top of her desk, she started going through. The words written across them making her heart beat faster. It was all messages she and Dave would write to each other during class so they didn’t get in trouble for talking.

The pictures were of them while they were dating. Polaroids with dates written on the trimming. There was one of her in a white t-shirt, her hair messy as the sunlight streaming in from the window ghosted over her face. It was one of the nights he stayed over after they made love. She remembered this morning. She remembered every moment she’d ever spent with him.

She heard a tapping at her window as she continued going through the pictures on her desk. Her head turned to glance at the window, the sky dark and snowing outside. She walked over to the window and pulled it open, a freezing breeze coming in as she looked down to see who was at her window.

She spotted the one person she’d been thinking of all day, blowing warm air into his large hands before looking up at her. “What do you want, Dave?”

“To talk. I'm coming up.” He shouted in a whisper, beginning to climb up the tree next to her window. Watching him brought back memories from her senior year. Most nights she couldn’t sleep or they wanted to see each other, he scaled the tree and walked across the roof to get to her window.

“No, Dave, I-”

He came up to her window, Y/N standing in front of it. “Please, Y/N. Let me come in.” He whispered, with hopeful eyes.

“Nope.” She stood arms crossed in front of the window, not moving an inch. “I don’t want to talk. I already told you this.”

“I don’t care. You need to hear this.”

“No, I don’t.”

Dave huffed. “Yes, you do. And if you won’t let me in, then I’ll just sit out here and talk to you.”

“Well, I’ll be standing right here, waiting for you to leave.”

He rolled his eyes, licking his lips before taking a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All that he’d been planning on saying all day was erased from his mind and now he was in front of her, opening and closing his mouth like a gaping fish.

“I don’t what to say. I had a plan, but now I’m stuck, so I’m just gonna wing it. I know that you don’t like me, that you might even hate me, but I didn’t mean to break your heart, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted us to become this. In fact, I always wanted you and I to last. I always wanted you.”

She listened intently, the words settling in her heart. “Y/N, you were the first girl I’ve ever truly loved. No, you're the only girl I’ve ever truly loved and you’re the only one I will ever love. I’ve been thinking since that night, that I should’ve gone after you. I should’ve gotten out of my car and chased you into this house, holding you in my arms, telling you that I loved you and that I never stopped. As soon as you left, I realized what I’d done and what the consequences were as a result of my actions.

“I broke up with Aubrey after a few weeks of whatever was going on between us. I was miserable. I was always thinking of you. My thoughts of you kept me up every night. I would see something happen and I’d turn to tell you about it, but you weren’t there. You weren’t my right hand anymore. I would turn to push your hair behind your ear and kiss you because I never could get enough of you. All I want to do right now is kiss you with all my love because I’m still in love with you.”

Y/N’s eyes glossed over as did Dave’s, but she wasn't sure if it was because he was cold or because his heart was breaking as much as hers was. “No, Dave. You can’t do that. It’s not fair!” She exclaimed, walking away from the window. Dave took the opportunity to slip into the cold house, following behind her.

“You have to know. You have to know what I feel.” He grabbed her hand, spinning her around. “I still love you and I should’ve told you the night we broke up. If I did, then maybe you would still be mine. Maybe we would be living together and going to college. I should tell you that I’ve always loved you. You were always it for me, Y/N. And I hate that I needed distance to become wise enough to see understand my love for you.”

Y/N’s tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes squinted slightly as she looked up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought you hated me.”

“I did. I hated you for what you did to me, but I loved you for who you were even more, Dave. If you had come to me and told me this before I left, maybe you and I would’ve gotten back together. Maybe things would’ve been different.”

Dave nodded, holding her small hand in both of his. His fingers stroked her knuckles. He wanted to ask a question, but he was scared of what her answer would be. “Do you… do you still love me?”

Y/N stayed silent for a moment, not exactly knowing the answer herself until she thought it through. Did she? Did she still love him after all the time? Was it still possible for her to love him after he broke her heart? She looked down at the small hand of hers being held by his large ones before glancing up to see Dave looking down at her.

His eyes were full of hope. He needed her to love him back. He needed her to wrap her arms around him and kiss him like nothing had ever changed between them. As much as he wanted it, he knew he wouldn’t get it. He knew he wouldn’t get that kiss, that he wouldn’t get that warm embrace of hers. He knew he would never hold her again because it was different now. Everything changed because of what he did.

He pulled from her, thinking he had his answer. He held back his tears, sniffling as he nodded in understanding. He wiped his hands on his khakis, not having the courage to look at her.

“Dave…” She trailed off as he walked back over to the window.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I can’t take back what I did, I know that. I shouldn’t have come here.” He began to climb out the window, but she spoke again, stopping him in his tracks with what she said next.

“Dave, I love you.” She said. He looked back at her with glossy eyes, his vision blurring slightly. “I still love you. I know I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”

He sighed and walked back over to her in two quick strides, cupping her face in his large palms. He brought her mouth to his and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss that made her knees weak. It's been so long since he felt her lips against his. It's been far too long.

She wrapped her arms around his back, scratching at his clothed shoulder blades with her long fingernails. Dave tilted his head to the right, deepening the kiss they shared. His lips were cold and chapped against hers, but it was a feeling she couldn’t see herself ever getting sick of.

Her lips parted to allow him to slip his tongue into her mouth. The wet muscles glided against each other, the touch of another person, Dave’s touch making goosebumps appear on her skin. An awakened feeling lingered in her body, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Undress me.”

“A-Are you sure? We’re not even official or anything at all. We’re not together.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care. I need you. I need to feel you like I used to.” He nodded and took off his jacket, throwing it onto the floor, his shirt coming off soon afterwards. She pulled the thin shirt she was wearing over her head.

The cold air from the open window drafted inside, hitting her nipples and making them hard. Dave looked up at her exposed upper body, her torso having more definition that it used to. She looked at his own abdomen, a patch of hair between his pectorals, the hair led down to the dark, curly hairs around his belly button and above the waistband of his pants.

“Kiss me.” She breathed out. He pulled her closer, cupping her face as he crashed his lips down to hers in a love filled haze. He walked her back to the bed, laying her down as he kissed her neck gently and lovingly. She sighed, her eyes closing as she held him closer, eager to feel his body against hers after so long apart.

He trailed down from her lips to her chest, pressing his lips to her skin sweetly. “You’re so beautiful. I didn’t know this was possible.” He mumbled, his teeth grazing against her soft flesh as he spoke.

He looked up at her, his fingertips sliding up her sides as he held her breasts in his warm palms. She arched into his hands, her eyes closing as his fingers rubbed circles at her hard nipples. She sighed deeply, Dave’s lips sucking at her collarbone, leaving love bites behind on her skin.

She opened her eyes, her hands reaching up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her nails scratching at his scalp. She hooked her leg around his waist, smoothing the soft skin on the heel of her foot up and down his leg. She grabbed his hair and tilted his head to the side, looking into his eyes.

“I want you, Dave.” She whispered, kissing his bottom lip lazily while still maintaining eye contact. She heard a low groan roll off his tongue, felt it vibrate against her skin. The sound was so exciting and aroused it made the juices that leaked from her core soak her cotton panties. “Right now.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure that you want this? You want to be with me.” He asked, his voice fragile as he spoke to her.

She held his cheek in her hand, Dave cuddling into her warm palm. “Of course I do.” She cooed. “I mean, it’s you. You’re the one I love. The only one I could ever need.”

“But after what I did? I mean, do you still love me like you used to?”

“I’ll always love you… always and it’ll take time for me to completely forgive you, but I want you back. I want us back, Dave.”

He smiled softly, leaning up to kiss her lovingly. The exchange was slow and passionate, he rolled his hips into hers subconsciously, his clothed cock rubbing at her covered core. Her hands went down to the buckle of his belt and began to undo it. She soon unzipped and unbuttoned the khakis he was wearing.

Her soft hands slid to his hips, dipping her fingers underneath the elastic waistband as she pushed the rest of his clothing off. Dave toed off his shoes, hearing them softly drop to the carpeted flooring. He raised his body off of hers, holding himself up on his forearm as he helped her completely rid him of any clothes, his body bare above hers.

The soft sound of his hardened member slapping against his the lower part of his stomach sounded in the room. She kissed him and pushed his shoulders, switching the position of their bodies. She used her hands to support herself as she kept her lips pressed against his.

She smiled against his mouth as she straddled him, her pussy pressing against his cock. “I love you.” She muttered as she pulled away for air. Her nose pressed against his as he beamed at the three words she said to him.

He sat up and brought his hands to her waist and smoothed them down. He slid his fingers into her pyjama shorts, cupping her ass. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want to do it?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned, kissing his top lip gently.

Dave chuckled quietly. “You’re right.” He lifted her onto her knees, yanking the shorts and her panties off her body. She stripped herself of her remaining clothing and bit her bottom lip, watching as Dave admired her body. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the scattered freckles on her chest.

She leaned her head back, sighing contentedly as her eyes fluttered closed. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his back. Her need for him grew more intense as he licked at her neck. “I can’t wait any longer.” She groaned, pressing her hand against his chest and pushing him back onto the mattress.

Reaching over and pulling the handle of the drawer, Y/N began to shuffle her fingers around, looking for the foil packets that hadn’t been touched since the last time she was with Dave. She grabbed one out of the box and ripped the wrapper open with her teeth, spitting it onto the side of the bed.

She pumped his member a couple times before placing it on his tip, rolling the rubber onto his length. She lifted herself up on his knees, Dave’s large palms covering her waist. As she lowered herself on him, his size and girth stretched her out, a breathy moan falling from her lips.

“Oh, god.” He groaned loudly. She looked down at him and used her hand to cover his mouth.

“Be quiet. Mom and Molly are sleeping downstairs.” She whispered, setting her hand on his chest to stable herself. Her walls fluttered at the feeling of him inside her, his own cock throbbing within her.

She began to move, her hips rolled into his. Her hand still covered his mouth, the sounds he was making against her hand leaving vibrations against her palm. He kept his eyes on her, watching her facial expressions as she rode him. Her tits bounced with each movement and it had him reaching one of his hands up to fondle the mound on her chest.

“I missed you so much.” He said, his words muffled as his mouth was still covered.

“I missed you, too.” She sighed, her eyes closing as her head fell back. Her hair cascaded down her back, her nails leaving red welts as she scratched at his chest.

He grunted at the burn it left, setting his feet flat on the mattress. He lifted his hips off the bed, thrusting up into her and tapping her g-spot every time. “Baby, you feel better than I remember. So much better.”

She sighed, biting her lip to hold back her loud moans. Dave sat up and wrapped his arms around her body, his hands resting over the curve of her ass as he pressed his lips to her for the umpteenth time that night. After going so long without her kiss or without making love to her, he savored every movement they made together. He let it imprint and lock in his mind so that he wouldn’t ever forget.

“You’re so warm. So wet. So tight.” He growled against her lips, their mouths parted at they breathed in and out. “I can’t tell you how much I missed this. How much I missed you.”

She moved his head to the side, wrapping her lips around his earlobe to suck slowly and teasingly. He shuddered and buried his face into her neck, groaning against her sweaty skin.

Her arms slid under his arms, scratching at his back. He flipped their bodies, pinning her to the bed beneath him. Taking her leg in his large hand, he lifted her leg up to rest on his hip, his thrusts growing sloppy but somehow deeper and harder.

She clenched around him as he hit the deepest spots that resided inside of her. He leaned his head against her shoulder, watching as he pushed himself into her and pulled back out, his covered dick dripping with her sweet juices. He nipped the skin on her shoulder, licking against the red spot from where he bit down.

She held him close, her chest pressed against his as her breathing grew shallower. Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but the only thing in the cool winter air was the smell of sex and the emotions that came from both Dave and Y/N.

His hips snapped forwards, his pelvic bone knocking against hers as the tip of his cock twitched within her. “Oh, please, tell me you’re close.” He sighed.

“I’m so close. Rub my clit.”

He sucked his fingers into his mouth and brought them between her bodies, circling his pointer and middle finger around the bundle of nerves. His body was covered with perspiration, beads of sweat dripping down from his hairline. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and red from the heat the friction of their moving bodies created.

She whimpered and fell over the edge, her throat raw from the sounds she released and the ones she held back throughout the night. Her eyelids squeezed shut and her climax brought him to his own, his load spurting into the little bubble at the tip of the condom.

He shook like she did as he came, his mouth pressed against the side of her neck to keep his groans quiet. His name fell from her lips in desperate whispers, her hands gripping at the clammy flesh on his back.

Their dirty bodies worked together as they rode out their highs. He pulled from her, the exhausted feeling fall over the both of them like a warm and comforting blanket. He collapsed on the bed next to her, his shoulder pressed against hers.

Dave pulled off the soiled rubber and tied it off, throwing it into the garbage bin beside her nightstand. She turned onto her belly and laid her head on on his chest, her arm draped around his waist loosely. Her fingernails scratched at his skin comfortingly, her eyes closing as she listened to the soft thumping sound of his heartbeat.

He turned his head to the side, pressing his lips against her hairline before resting them there. The faint floral smell of her hair invaded his nose and soothed his nerves. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“I know. It’s going to take some time for me to completely trust you with my heart like I used to, but I forgive you. After everything we’ve been through, I forgive you.”

He smiled softly, squeezing her tightly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Dave.” She looked up at him, stroking lines on his side as she nodded slowly. “Just don’t give my heart away again.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

what’d you think? let me know!

want to be tagged in the rest of smutmas?

Tags:

@nocturnalzeal @lovefilledtragedy @sourshawn @obrienskhakis @lovelydob @fuckwhateverfuck @padmeisgay @schnin25 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @parislight @daddyxraeken @rayyyana

[coldcrimes]

our past reads like a fan fiction

( childhood friends to ? to strangers, slow burn, angst, unfinished story )

this is entirely based on a true friendship, and entirely me venting before I have to see him again. also I made a playlist yeehaw

you're four years old when you move into your first house. the first three and a half years of your life was a chain of apartments and couch surfing, and the first half year was in a hospital halfway across the continent.

he lived next door. he had eyes like amber and a twig body and he heard you running back and forth on the fence of their houses, laughing at his golden retriever and decided to call out to you and ask for your name. "i'm josie!" you shout at him (you never got a handle on your volume, but he always put up with it), smiling at a stranger the way only you could. "i'm mick."

you're six when you figure out your birthday is the same day, three years apart. august 27th is changed on your calendar from "my bday!!" to "me & mick's bdays!!" and a note that he wants the pokémon cards you saw at the mall a week ago. he tells you he was held back a year, and you don't see an issue with it-- you have your best friend for one more year!

you swim together in the shitty wooden pool in your backyard. his mom laughs at you when you push him in, and your mom joins her when he pulls you in (he was always pulling you behind him, and you always clung to him when he did). you smell chlorine and think of him, and your mom looks at you weird when you tell her this as you sign up for aquatics, both semesters of freshman year.

you're nine when his mom starts babysitting you after school: monday & thursday after school, because you take him when she has extra shifts on sunday nights. you finish your spelling lessons and you go to his room, where you watch Ghost Adventures on his 22-inch box TV. (you still love that show- something about it makes you feel like he's with you). you're afraid of dark hallways for the next two weeks, but he walks down them ahead of you- "so if the ghosts come, they get me first!"

you go to a sports bar a block away on one of these days in november, and his mom gives you ten bucks to split on games. you can still smell the smoke clinging to his shirt, and the way the light made his eyelashes seem invisible. you wonder now if that was what love is to nine year olds.

you're eleven when you figure out mick has some kind of addiction. the way strange people come to and from his door, and when you ask about them he wants to watch Spongebob instead of answering. (the way when you reached for his hand, he always hesitated before grabbing- you think now he might have had something in those hands he didnt want to you know about). the way his smile changes when his mom leaves and he disappears for minutes at a time and comes back a little more off than usual.

you aren't stupid. you know what people on drugs look like. you know he invites the boys down the road over and even though you know all of them, he won't let you come over until they all leave. he's never turned down a chance to hang out without an explanation, but he just mumbled "you'll get it when you go to middle school" and closed the door.

you're thirteen when you find out mick got sent to missouri. his mom tells yours that he had a drug problem, and she decided his dad could deal with it better than her, it would be better for him to be away from the people who started the hurt. you knew you were right-- "you love being right", he teased you during a sleepover, "you hate being wrong so much I think you made it impossible for the universe to make you wrong, ever."-- but for the first time, you wish you had been wrong.

you know he left for himself, you know he wanted to escape the shit wrong with him. you work hard for it not to sting that he didn't tell you he was leaving. it still doesn't 100% work, but that's okay. you tell your mom he never crosses your mind anymore (that's bullshit. you made a list of things that remind you of him- the current amount is 37.)

you're thirteen when you make yourself move along. you date two girls and one guy- the first real girlfriend you ever had is the only one you told about him. you get into writing, then musicals, then planting-- but painting is never an option, it's too close to days spent flicking paint on rocks and random logs and each other.

you move out of that house the week after your birthday. it's the first one since you moved in where you couldn't hop the chainlink and go watch Adventure Time with mick. (you pushed him into this chainlink once on halloween because he made you watch Friday the 13th and then dressed up as jason). you lie about the reason your walls are green, but your sister knows it's because it was mick's favorite color.

you sit at the loveseat, feet in your mother's pillow and BuzzFeed Unsolved playing on the TV when your dad walks in and says "he's back." you turn off the episode, and you walk to your grandma's with no explaimation. you thank god you chose the house down the road from her, because you need a fucking hug.

he goes to the high school you will. he's back in town. and you say his name in a prayer that you never see someone who broke your heart there. you whisper to the deities the reasons why thinking of him burns like a brand.

you sit on a call with your best friend tina and you tell her about him. you thank her for not judging you for crying over a stupid boy, then you hang up and write this. you hope it helps the pain stop.

[indigo-streaks-in-her-hair]

500 Follower Ask Celebration :)

welp, here we are with 500 beautiful lovelies reading our fics. when we first started this blog, we never imagined such a wonderful response. everyone is the nicest & we both can’t express how grateful we are for every one of you.

thank you so much for sticking by us, even during our rough times. your support means the world to the both of us, & you all keep us going more than you think. you all inspire us every single day, & never fail to make us laugh.

you, yes all of you, are the best followers in the whole damn universe. you’re all irreplaceable & extremely dear to us. we love you guys so much. words can’t begin to describe how we feel.

and so, since we literally can’t come up with anything else to do on this momentous occasion, our original plan for 500 was to reblog a long ass ask list for you guys to send in numbers, but since that would all be complicated on the matter of the two of us answering, we decided to just answer all these 45 questions.

you’ll find the questions and our answers under the cut! enjoy!

 um she’s really lovely and sympathetic and true and magnificent and her name is summer and the most annoying thing about her is that she’s not annoying at all. -v

pretty much the fact that vic is better than me at  e v e r y t h i n g . she’s so much more caring and generous and beautiful and she’s always there for me whenever i’m having a bad day or if i’m just lonely or whenever i need someone to talk to. she’s also super polite and hilarious as hell. -s

2 • least favorite tv shows? 

oops sorry if i offend some people but i really don’t like vampire diaries, thirteen reasons why, gossip girl, or the uk version of the office. -v

i don’t, like,,,,, watch tv much so all honesty, i can’t really have an answer for this? sorry?? -s

3 • favorite moment with your best friend ( s ) ? 

oh omg i was texting summer a few weeks ago discussing and finalizing which fic requests we were each going to be taking and we had that one request asking for a connor imagine in which him and the reader take zoe to get her wisdom teeth out so i said something around the lines of “i can take connor and the wisdom teeth” and i literally froze before following that up with “omg that could be a name for a band”. summer freaks out and we’re both laughing hysterically over text and we stop everything and just spit out crappy band names that include connor and various body parts like “connor and the tonsils” and “connor and the funny bone” and even “connor and the fractured pelvis” and we’re absolutely dying because we can’t stop cackling at this stupid thing i brought up which made me laugh out loud a hundred times and i ended up scaring my own grandmother when she saw me giggling crazily with my phone. she ended up cutting me a slice of pie because she thought there was actually something wrong and the pie might help me calm down. so if the person who requested “connor and the wisdom teeth” is reading this right now i just wanna say thank you for requesting and your idea is amazing and your fic will forever be iconic ily. -v

oh my god, i was literally going to say the exact same thing vic did, but i guess i can choose a different memory.  one time vic posted a pic of a turtle on her sc story and i was like “girl omg” and she remembered that time she played the character Turtle in her school’s production of The Westing Game play and then we started reminiscing on our old nerdy memories like when a projected video didn’t work for her and she had to just say all the audio backstage, or the time after my school’s cheap ass production of the Wizard of Oz during curtain call i tried to quickly change from my farmhand costume to my tin man costume and i forgot to put my shoes on and i slipped and fell on my ass during curtain call (i also forgot to bow but unimPORTANT) and it was just so sweet and cute but honestly every moment with vic is the bEST. -s

4 • what’s one quality you would like to have? 

hm i’ve always wanted lighter eyes, mine are this boring brown color. whenever i’m in sunlight, they become shot through with these bits of gold and amber and it’s super pretty and that’s the only time they really lighten up. it would be really nice if they were like that all the time. -v

my big nose and thin hair have been the #1 qualities i’m most self conscious of, so i would really like to either have a smaller nose, or thicker hair. my face is already super oily as is, but my nose is the worst part, and i’ve always hated how my nostrils are almost as big has my eyes. as for the thin hair, you always have to be cautious about what you do with it, because there’s so little of it. like, i’m hella prone to sweating, which sucks, so if i sweat too much, my hair can easily build up enough grease to look like i just got out of the shower in a matter of minutes. or if i sleep on it the “wrong way”, and portions of are crinkled awkwardly or sticking out, then that’s how it’s going to look the entire day. and i can’t do any cute hairstyles with it because it all will fall out. -s

5 • name three people of the same sex you would kiss, marry, or fuck. 

kiss rachelle ann go, marry pippa soo, and fuck laura dreyfuss oops. -v

kiss pippa soo, marry eva noblezada, and as for the other one,,,, i’ll get back to you on that.. -s

6 • do you like your full name? 

hell no it sounds so boring and standard. -v

hahahahahah, no way. -s

7 • tell me your most embarrassing memory. 

erhm so many? how do i choose? i’ve tripped in front of crushes hundreds of times, i spelled a word wrong in a spelling bee that i really did know how to spell but my anxiety acted up and i panicked so badly, i ran into a sliding glass door literally yesterday, when i was little i sang in a public bathroom and everyone heard, i also fell out of a tree? does that make me evan hansen? -v

oh n o. there’s too much there, i swear. um, i got so nervous when someone asked me what my name was, i told them i was “helen”, but i think that was because i accidentally said “hell” too loud and tried to cover it up. i’ve tripped so many times on a flat ground. once i was crying in a public bathroom and a kid started banging on the door and told his mom that no one was in there, so before they got the staff to open the door, i panicked and hid my face in my sleeve as i ran out of there. omg there was also one time, a long ass time ago, someone asked me who my favorite member of one direction was and i didn’t know who they were because in my house we don’t listen to (at the time) contemporary music. not to mention anything in english?? but anyways, i’d heard of them but nothing about them, so me, trying desperately to fit in said “i like all four of them”. and they told me “there’s five”. there was also a time i was invited to this girl’s retreat thing in her youth group when we took a field trip to this pumpkin patch and they had this corn maze and we tried to go through it, but i got lost and nobody was around me and for some reason i thought everyone just left so i was terrified and crying and just started running straight through the corn. but then one of the other kids saw me and called me out to everyone and i was too embarrassed and anxious to say “i got lost”. there’s probably so many more memories and probably worse ones too, but in short, my life is a huge embarrassment. -s

8 • favorite color to wear? 

pastel baby blue is my number one. i have this off shoulder blouse that’s this pretty sky blue color and white and i think it’s my favorite item of clothing. -v

i can’t make a lot of colors look good on me so usually i turn to black, gray, or any dark shade. -s

9 • favorite restaurant? 

there’s a vietnamese place called “saigon diamond” in my city and it’s absolutely wonderful and i would go there every single day if i could. -v

i love this little place, it’s called “cafe vie” where they have boba tea, spring rolls, phở, all sorts of vietnamese food and it’s just so quaint and the food is the best there, honestly. i’m so hungry now. -s

10 • what would be a good first date for you? 

take me to a broadway show and then dinner and i will be the happiest girl in the world. -v

vic pretty much took it away at “broadway show” for me. and dinner is hella important, food is so good. i don’t have high standards, but if you really want to make an impression on me, then i’m literally the biggest sucker for romantic gestures. -s

11 • are you a good wrestler? 

thumb, yes. arm, no. full body contact, idk about that but i do know karate so i will fight you. -v

lmao, no. -s

12 • are you allergic to something? 

up until the time i was five or something i was allergic to grass and i had to wear pants whenever i went outside and it was honestly horrible because i couldn’t play tag or run around like other kids my age. -v

i honestly don’t know but most bug bites i get can get hella blisters and really gross even if i don’t touch them. -s

13 • would you be a good singer? 

i’ve been singing pretty much my entire life but it was only this year that i started gaining confidence with my voice so i guess i consider myself a good singer? i’m not completely there yet, though. -v

i really hope so. i’ve been a big choir nerd since i was 7 or 8 and i’m really passionate about singing, but that really has nothing to do with skill, i guess? i don’t really like the sound of my voice, but i’m pretty decent at harmonizing. -s

14 • who’s the last person you said “ i love you ” to? 

summer aka the shining light in this dark world. -v

victoire aka the actual light of my life?? love you, vic -s

15 • what car would you buy if you had enough money? 

um a porsche obviously because that shit is prime. -v

literally any car that doesn’t break down. as long as it can transport me from point a to point b without any troubles, then i am set. -s

16 • favorite cover of a song? 

currently it’s that cover of ben platt singing “ stay ” that’s floating around tumblr rn and i think i had an eargasm when i listened to it the first time i was so shook. -v

i can’t pickk a favv omg. everyone is so frickin talented it makes me actually want to curl up and yell. -s

17 • what was your last conversation about? 

coincidentally it was summer telling me we hit 500 and me proceeding to flip out. -v

hah, i don’t remember who it was with but i went around telling a couple people that my dad took my phone and i can only contact them from my crappy chromebook. -s

18 • where were you born? 

good ol’ michigan in the usa where i still live today. come visit us because we have chocolate fudge, cereal, and eminem if you like that kind of shit. we also have lots of lakes and pretty places and we’re so cool we’re shaped like a fucking mitten. -v

kansas, where i also still live today. maybe i don’t get out much, but it’s kinda boring here,, -s

19 • least favorite app? 

there’s this app on my uncle’s phone called “ chicken scream ” where this chicken has to jump onto platforms but to do that you have to scream and the octave of your voice determines how high the chicken jumps. seriously fucked up and i hate it but it’s hilarious watching people play it. -v

anything that can’t entertain me for more than two minutes. i have such a short attention span -s

20 • tell me two facts about the country of your birth. 

um we have the largest air force in the world and we sell enough pizza every day to cover one hundred whole acres and no i am not lying i read this in a book ok bye. -v

uhhh… its abbreviation, “USA” stands for the United States of America, and it’s made up of 50 states. -s

21 • do you like wearing sunglasses? 

actually i hate wearing sunglasses because they get tangled in my hair but if a pair looks good with my outfit then i will wear them for the sake of fashion. -v

i don’t wear sunglasses really at all, so i guess i can’t really have an opinion on them? -s

22 • when’s a good moment for a first kiss? 

goodbye kisses are the best, do not tell me otherwise. walk me home and then kiss me goodbye at the door and i will be thinking about you all the damn time and i’ll can’t wait to see you. -v

i think for a first kiss it should be a very important thing, so whoever you have it with should be really close to you, and someone you know that even if things don’t work out, you can always look back on it as a positive memory. but what would i know? -s

23 • what are your nationalities? 

i was born in america to immigrant parents who came from the philippines. along with the filipino blood, my great grandmother on my dad’s side was chinese, and my great grandparents on my mom’s side were spanish. -v

i was also born in america to immigrant parents, but they were from vietnam. my great grandparents on my mom’s side were chinese. -s

24 • what would make you drop college / university? 

ha are you kidding me if i ever dropped out of any sort of education my strict asian parents would probably disown me and mushu the dragon would appear out of nowhere and give me that whole “ dishonor ” speech. -v

^damn vic, i couldn’t have said it any better. -s

25 • a crossover between two shows ( any shows ) you would like to see? 

idk about any of you but a crossover between riverdale and doctor who sounds hella awesome. i’d definitely watch that. -v

frick;; i don’t watCH TV at like,,, all?? -s

26 • long or short hair? 

on me? honestly i prefer to have long hair but i’ll go shoulder length if i’m really feeling brave or something. when i was little i had super short hair with bangs so i was basically an asian dora the explorer. -v

short hair, for sure. i used to have hair down to my waist when i was younger and that was probably the grossest thing about me because it was so disproportionate to my head/face and made me look like if E.T. had two long strands of black yarn on its head. but even before that ofc i had a bowl cut. what asian kid doesn’t have a bowl cut, honetsly. although, over the summer i don’t cut my hair so i can dye the ends, then have it cut when school starts. the farthest it goes down is barely past my shoulders. -s

27 • a character from a book / tv show that shouldn’t of died? 

max lightwood from the mortal instruments book series was the purest bean, and he wasn’t even ten years old yet and that definitely broke my heart. as for tv characters, i sobbed for days on end when arthur from the bbc show merlin died. -v

um,,, crap idk. -s

28 • favorite movie scene? 

pitch perfect two where ben platt’s character benji musters up the courage to kiss emily before the bellas go on. idk why but it’s so cute? maybe it’s just ben? -v

sidenote: vic, i love that scene. anyways, maybe that final scene in heathers where martha gets her one line. idk. -s

29 • do you ship more fictitional characters or real people? 

fictional characters of course. who would i be without my otps? -v

definitely fictional characters. -s

30 • favorite country song? 

i seriously despise country music. i just don’t like it. it’s bleh. i don’t really know half the artists or their songs so i can’t have a favorite. -v

frickin “your man” by josh turner. i’m seriously kidding. i don’t listen to country music efiouhadjhdsilvb -s

31 • favorite john green book? 

it’s tied between “ paper towns “and ” looking for alaska “ because both are equally cryptic and beautiful at the same time and i love when books are like that. -v

heck, i really like “looking for alaska” -s

32 • least favorite ed sheeran song? 

oh come on. i love ed. you can’t expect me to pick a least favorite. but when it comes to the song i skip over most of the time it has to be ” even my dad does sometimes “ from multiply ( x ). -v

uhhhhmmmm… hell if i know -s

33 • favorite ship? 

malec from shadowhunters will always be my otp until the day i die. the ship is so diverse and has so much chemistry and if you read the books magnus and alec are so in love i can’t handle. -v

i don’t frickin knowwww. i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now. i’m so sorry if all of my answers are like this, i’m literally the most indecisive person in the actual world. -s

34 • how do you deal with sexual tension? 

uM -v

uM -s

35 • name a celebrity who died that you miss. 

our queen carrie fisher. i grew up with star wars always on my tv and when i heard of her passing i cried and rewatched ” the force awakens “ with blankets and two boxes of tissues. -v

there’s really too many to choose from, and thinking about all of the happy memories they’ve brought to me and everyone is just getting me so emotional. -s

36 • favorite harry potter spell? 

i’m really fucking basic but ” lumos “ is the best. it’s so simple. it’s light. and idk why that resonates with me but i just think everyone needs a little light these days. -v

i literally said “lumos” too, but now i’m going to choose “riddikulus” because turning boggarts into something funny proves that anyone can find humor in their biggest fear. -s

37 • something you are scared of losing? 

my family. there’s no way in hell i’d make it through life without my little brother or my grandparents who are there for me. -v

i’m terrified of losing the few friends i have. everyone i used to know didn’t have a single hesitation in forgetting me or even trying to lose contact with me. -s

38 • someone you regret meeting? 

i could make you a list and tell you what each one did to make me regret even looking at them but i don’t wanna go out on a full on bitch rant about these people who ended up wasting my time. but i’ll just say i’ve met my share of shitty human beings. -v

too many. there have been too many people who’ve hurt me or betrayed me or have honestly made me feel like a horrible person, and i really wish i could forget every last one of them. little tip: it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known a person, it doesn’t excuse any sort of bullshit or betrayal they’ve done. -s

39 • have you ever been hurt by someone you thought was your friend?

yes and it’s caused a lot of emotional and mental issues. i’ve been backstabbed and used so many times and i just wish i could stop being stupid and blind for not seeing it in the first place. -v

god, yes. i wish it didn’t take me this long and this much damage to realize i shouldn’t have been throwing around my trust or my yearning to be accepted so lightly. getting hurt by the people you thought cared about you most is the most awful feeling, especially knowing that every single act of kindness and sympathy and love to them meant nothing. -s

40 • do you easily open up to people? 

yes and no, actually. it ultimately depends on the person and whether i have a connection with them. -v

it’s really hard to open up to people in real life because i don’t know if they’re confidently lying to my face or will use my own words against me to people who also know me irl. but online it’s easy to open up to my friends there because i can find people who understand shit i go through and actually take the time to give a crap. -s

41 • what is a gift you love receiving? 

hugs. i love hugs. gimme all the hugs you got, boo. -v

damn, v knows exactly what i’m going to say. i love hugs so frickin much, but honestly any sort of affection is all i need, like, smooches? yes?? compliments? absoLUTELY?? cuddles??? MARRY ME?!?! -s

42 • what is something you could leave easily? 

erhm maybe my notebooks? i usually journal in them but not that often anymore. -v

probably hair clips. i really can’t do anything with them, and on me they’re really tacky. -s

43 • rant about what’s eating you up. 

i’d really rather skip this one if anyone doesn’t mind, i’m sure i’d go on for a hundred paragraphs about my stressful life plus i’m sure it would annoy you. and my problems are the kind of personal ones i’m not comfortable putting out in public yet. -v

i really agree with vic here, i don’t want to be a huge bother to y’all and it’s really a touchy and personal subject here. -s

44 • if you could make a phone call to anyone right now, who would it be and what would you say? 

i’d call ben platt, tell him how much i love him and how much i love the show and whole cast, all while screaming and shaking. -v

i was going to freaking say ben platt too, seriously. i wish i could thank him for how much his representation of evan and the build up of his character has made me find something to relate to and learn to appreciate myself more, even in the slightest. i’d also love to tell him that he shouldn’t have to feel apologetic for doing the things he does to take care of himself physically and mentally, and his fans should be more than supportive of him taking care of his well-being. i’d also ask him to tell the rest of the cast, creative, and standbys how much i seriously appreciate them, but honestly i’d be speechless if i knew he was on the other end of the line. -s

45 • are you easy to love? 

aw yes. people say i’m lovable. i’m been compared to a teddy bear before. it’s happened, trust me. -v

i should hope so, but not very many people like to stick around me. i mean, i try to be someone worth loving and i’m more than happy to spill out all of my love to anyone who just asks politely <3. -s