#my goal is to focus in on fic writing tomorrow or thursday and keep that up through the rest of the week

[usmsgutterson]

one thing about me is that productivity in the summer is nearly always guaranteed, but the area in which I’ll be the most productive on a particular day feels like rolling the dice

Like, I will be productive in one area for a full two weeks and then switch to another at random, and most days lately I wake up and I go “will it be novel writing? Will I update my account a little because it’s been four months? Will I write fics like never before today?” 

[heronwritingx]

chapter 4

here is a chapter 4 of my heathney fic. I do believe I called in Raining Lavender on AO3, if you'd like to go over and support it on there too that would be great!

Courtney took a deep breath and shut her car door; she was surprisingly nervous. She wasn’t this nervous when she announced her own campaign for presidency. A part of her was worried this would all backfire. She was worried Heather would stab her in the back, and she was prepared to do the same if need be. She was worried people would see it as a gimmick, she was worried Noah would somehow turn it against them – Courtney was just worried. She couldn’t trust Heather and she couldn’t trust the other students in her school.

She shook her head and made her way into the school, her backpack full of badges as well as a bag in her hand full of the posters they’d designed. It was surprisingly quiet outside and there wasn’t many students hanging out in the carpark like there usually were. She could however hear a commotion inside, there was loud chattering and Courtney’s stomach was in knots.

Courtney entered the building to not so much a commotion but something indeed. She could see cheerleaders handing out buttons, the different sports teams putting up posters and wearing badges. Her posters were everywhere. Her badges were everywhere.

“Huh…” Courtney blinked.

She could hear Heather’s voice blaring through the halls, not over the intercom but as if she was shouting into a megaphone of sorts. Courtney was becoming overwhelmed, was this the plan Heather had!?

“Courtney!” Lindsay called out, the blonde girl bouncing over to her.

Lindsay was Heather’s closest friend, but Courtney never quite understood why. Heather was cunning, cold and manipulative, whereas Lindsay was innocent and rather sweet. She never could quite grasp how two complete opposites could be friends.

“Heather’s been looking for you, for like ever! Hurry up and come with me.” Lindsay told her.

She linked her arm through Courtney’s and pulled her into the cafeteria, where Heather stood on a table surrounded by people. Heather was wearing her usual cheer uniform along with a jacket, and her hair was pulled up into a ponytail with a new ribbon – one that matched their colour scheme. It was…cute.

“Courtney!” Heather shouted into the megaphone she was holding in her hand – confirming Courtney’s theory, “Finally!”

The school hadn’t been opened that long, had Heather gotten here with her team and friends in hand to set this all up? Was she really that committed to this? Lindsay gently pushed Courtney towards the table and gestured for her to step up, like Heather was. She did so and Heather turned off the megaphone for a moment.

“What is all this?” Courtney asked.

“We needed to start with a bang. Everyone is talking about us.” Heather answered, handing her the megaphone, “Now say something – you’re the one who’s going to be president,”

Courtney took the megaphone and took another deep breath, trying to think of something to say.

“Oh, and don’t make it lame, obviously.” Heather smirked a little, folding her arms.

Courtney scoffed and she thought for a moment, she had to say something that would stick. She had done this before, and she lifted the megaphone to her mouth.

“Vote for Courtney and Heather! Together, we’re going to make a difference at this school!” Courtney took Heather’s hand and lifted it up into the air, “We’ll be giving our first speech next Friday and we want all of you to help us! Tell us what you think needs changing!”

Heather noticed Courtney’s huge smile and she never let go of Heather’s hand for as long as they stood on that table. The students around them cheered and Courtney continued to spout her beliefs and her plans for what she would do if she became president. The morning period was coming to an end and teachers had come to end the campaign via megaphone. Courtney kept holding onto Heather’s hand and pulled her away from the cafeteria into an empty classroom. She hugged Heather tightly and Heather’s body stiffened up, her heart stopping for a moment.

She didn’t know what she was reacting too. The hug itself or Courtney hugging her. No one had hugged her in so long that wasn’t Lindsay and Heather usually avoided that as much as she could. She couldn’t even bring herself to lift her arms up and hug the girl back. Her face flushed red and she couldn’t breathe. Her stomach felt so strange – it was fluttering, and she wanted nothing more than to push Courtney off.

“I can’t believe you!” Courtney was giggling and she was so excited, “I would have never thought to do something so bold!”

Courtney let her go and Heather’s feelings got even more confusing. As soon as her arms were no longer around her, Heather found herself wanting that moment again. She didn’t want to be so shocked; she didn’t want to be confused. She hadn’t felt something like that in so long. No one had hugged her, held her in so long.

“It’s called making a statement…” Heather grumbled, turning away, “We wanted everyone to know, after all.”

“I was so surprised when I walked in, I never thought you’d do something like this.” Courtney continued to giggle.

“Like I said—”

“Thank you.” Courtney said.

She sounded so sincere and her smile was so genuine, Heather couldn’t remember the last time someone – aside from Lindsay – was like that with her. She didn’t even know if she could trust it. She’d always said she couldn’t trust Courtney and she still didn’t.

“Whatever…” Heather muttered.

“Now that everyone knows, we need to polish up our speech for Friday. I’ve started writing it, of course, but it can be better. It can always be better.” Courtney said, “I’ll email it to you tonight, then we can work on it tomorrow afternoon and next Tuesday. I know you have cheer practice Monday, Wednesday and Thursday so tomorrow will have to do.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Class is about to begin, so I’m going.” Heather said, huffing.

Courtney didn’t know what to say to stop her and the girl stomped off, Courtney still confused by her strange moods. Heather was right though; the bell was about to ring and she wasn’t about to be late to class. Courtney and Heather were in the same homeroom class and Heather wasn’t sitting in her usual seat when Courtney walked in despite the girl leaving first.

Courtney glanced around and there he was. He looked mad. He looked furious. He was keeping it under wraps though. She knew he was bubbling with rage; she knew he wanted to snap at her. Her eyes met Noah’s and the shit-eating grin that crossed her lips was indescribable, she wished Heather was here to rub it in more. She wanted Heather there. She wanted to be able to giggle and laugh about his fury with her. Why wasn’t Heather there? She couldn’t have gone anywhere else!

Courtney’s stomach sank when Heather never showed up for homeroom at all.

Heather found herself sitting behind the school, hidden in a little place where she was sure she wouldn’t get caught. She was on her phone watching videos as she tried to ignore whatever the hell she was feeling before. Courtney left her so confused, yet the entire time she planned her bang of a campaign announcement, she wanted to only impress Courtney. She didn’t care what anyone else thought, all she cared about was what Courtney was going to think. She would never say it but she was happy, ecstatic even when she saw how happy Courtney was. That girl made her heart race and deep down, Heather knew what that meant.

She took a deep breath and leaned her head back; it wasn’t possible though. It couldn’t be. Heather couldn’t have feelings for Courtney. Heather was just overthinking things, that had to be it. Courtney was annoying, she was almost unbearable most days. Yet, Heather liked the competitions they had, and she even wasn’t hating working with Courtney. Heather let out an annoyed groan and she almost wanted to smack her head against the wall, but she didn’t, she was so confused! She didn’t know what to do!

“Stupid Courtney…” Heather muttered.

She waited for the bell to ring and she stood up, stretching her arms high up and made her way back into the school. She couldn’t skip class all day, people would think something may have happened. She stomped into her algebra class, one of the few classes she didn’t actually share with Courtney.

The day passed as well as the next and Heather found herself alone in the debate room with Courtney after school. Courtney, as the captain of the debate team, was allowed to use the room whenever she wanted so they had that advantage. She had her laptop sat on the table in front of her and Heather sat across from her, the pair sharing the table.

Courtney hadn’t seen her since the morning of Heather’s big stunt and although they didn’t really speak during class or at lunch, Courtney felt a distance from her VP to be. Heather’s eyes weren’t on her and she kept them squarely focused on the phone no matter what Courtney said. She couldn’t bring herself to ask what happened, where she went or even relish in Noah’s anger. Heather didn’t seem to care, and Courtney didn’t know why it affected her so much.

“Well, let’s begin working on this speech then.” Courtney broke the silence between them, the girl unsure what to say for a moment or so.

“Go for it.” Heather replied, rolling her eyes.

“My goal is equity. Noah’s whole idea is that he wants these “lower groups” to rise up, to have a say,” Courtney said, using her fingers for quotation marks, “That’s only going to segregate the students even more. That’s why I say we use equity as a big theme.”

Heather kept her eyes on her phone and was definitely not finding the meaning of “equity” but nodded along. After all, she just assumed Courtney would write the speech for her.

“Everyone at this school deserves a chance to strive and succeed, equity is our way to do that. Students like you and I don’t need as much help as some others, I want to make sure those students who really need help are getting it. That’s my focus, that’s my plan. That should appeal to everyone.” Courtney explained, “I want to crush Noah’s notion that one group deserves more than another, I want to crush his idea that the cliques affect this school. He’s blindsided by his hatred of what he calls “popular” people. I think we can challenge that; we can beat Noah but only together.”

“Hm?” Heather blinked, this time looking up at Courtney.

“The two of us working together. We’re from two completely different groups, after all. I think if we could even get someone else on our side, someone Noah would hate for us to have.” Courtney told her, her eyes lighting with joy when Heather finally looked up at her, “We need to prove that his idea of cliques is bullshit. We need to move away from that and support those students who need it most, no matter what group they’re in.”

“Oh, you’ve really thought about this.” Heather said, her lips parting in awe.

She was honestly taken by surprise. She knew Courtney was clued in and beyond smart, but this was something else. Courtney was in all honestly, quite impressive. Heather pushed the thought away however and focused on what Courtney had actually said – they needed someone similar to Noah. Someone like Noah but not so…awful to be around.

And Heather knew just the person.

“Now that you say that, I think I know someone who could help us,” an unnerving (to anyone who wasn’t Courtney) smile crossed Heather’s lips, “Noah would hate it too.”

“Who?” Courtney questioned, almost lifting up off her seat in intrigue.

“Let’s keep it a surprise for now, I need to see if he’ll go along with it, after all.” Heather said, standing up, “You work on your speech and whatever the hell you want me to say, and I’ll recruit them.”

“Wait—”

Heather waved her off and walked out, leaving Courtney alone in the debate room – without even a goodbye. Courtney huffed but begrudgingly agreed to Heather, she somehow knew she’d get stuck with the writing job anyway. Heather’s speeches were half-assed at best, so it was probably for the best – after all, Heather had admitted she only ran to beat Courtney. Courtney turned her focus back to her laptop, but she wouldn’t deny it, it stung when Heather left. This was supposed to be their thing and Heather felt like she was already pushing it away.

Courtney couldn’t lose her. She needed Heather to win. She wanted her to stay.

[real-espanadrid]

Please Call Me Again

Pairings: wangxian, background xuanli, xiyao, chengqing

Tags: modern setting, college au, fluff, silly, mutual pining, no courtesy names, single dad/physics student wwx, music/literature student lwj

Summary: Lan Zhan prank calls Wei Ying pretending to be a scam caller. It’s supposed to be a one-time thing. (Spoiler alert: it isn’t.)

Author’s Note: i decided on a whim to delve into the world of cql fic-writing...here’s my first attempt! enjoy!

Lan Zhan glares at the figures of Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan blatantly laughing at him as he lifts his phone to his ear, furiously contemplating the pros and cons of committing homicide against the two people who he grudgingly accepts as his friends. While he waits for the person on the other end to pick up, he asks himself why he keeps accompanying his brother to these Lan-Jin-Nie family get-togethers when he knows Nie Huaisang always has some ridiculous scheme planned that both he and Jin Zixuan always, without fail, end up getting roped into.

This time, Nie Huaisang has apparently decided that today is a good day for prank calls. Jin Zixuan has already been dared to call Jiang Yanli using Jin Guangyao’s work phone, which Nie Huaisang had stolen while Jin Guangyao was greeting Lan Huan with the usual single-minded focus that characterizes all his interactions with Lan Zhan’s brother.

The task had been to pretend to be a volunteer with a generic charity organization, but Jiang Yanli, in a twist that wasn’t really a twist at all, considering the enormous crush she has on the man, had recognized Jin Zixuan’s voice immediately. Lan Zhan had been forced to watch Jin Zixuan stutter his way through an explanation while Jiang Yanli’s gentle laughter filtered through the phone’s speaker and Nie Huaisang smiled knowingly behind his ever-present hand-painted fan.

The intention behind the dare is obvious, in Jin Zixuan’s case, because he’s been pining after Jiang Yanli for months now and hasn’t done a thing about it, despite her equally evident interest in him. It does, however, make Lan Zhan a little concerned about whose phone number Nie Huaisang has made him dial, because for him, the end goal is less clear.

Lan Zhan isn’t given the chance to fully mull over his apprehension, though, because the phone finally stops ringing as someone picks up.

“Hello?” It’s the voice of a man, fairly young-sounding. He seems totally unfazed.

“Hello,” Lan Zhan says stiffly. “How are you today?”

“I’m great!” says the man brightly.

Lan Zhan blinks, taken aback by the unexpected enthusiasm of the reply. “...Good,” he says, unsure of what an appropriate response to that would be. “I am calling because – your IP address has been compromised.” Making up dialogue on the spot is horrible, he discovers. He fixes Nie Huaisang with a look that he hopes will haunt his friend’s dreams for the next few nights. “I will need you to – get in front of your computer so we can fix your account.” It feels unlikely, but maybe the man on the other end hasn’t noticed Lan Zhan’s hesitation as he fabricates a reason for his call.

“Okay!” the man agrees, still unsettlingly excited. Lan Zhan wonders who this man is and why Nie Huaisang thought Lan Zhan, of all people, should prank call him. “There’s one thing I’m wondering, though.”

“What?” Lan Zhan finds that he actually is somewhat curious.

The man laughs a bit. It’s a distractingly pleasant sound. “You really couldn’t think of a better lie? Like, my ‘IP address has been compromised.’ How, exactly, does an IP address become ‘compromised?’”

There’s a long pause following the question. Maybe the man is waiting for Lan Zhan to reply. If he is, he’s going to be disappointed, because Lan Zhan has no idea what to say to this. He suddenly feels a pang of sympathy for any real scam callers who have called this number before.

The man seems to realize he isn’t going to get a response because he cheerfully continues talking. “I was just wondering, that’s all!”

This is a logical point in the call to hang up. Lan Zhan has technically already carried out Nie Huaisang’s stupid dare – he’s impersonated a scam caller and spoken to this man for long enough. But for whatever reason, he hears himself speak again. “Why did you answer?”

It’s the man’s turn to fall silent. Lan Zhan lets himself feel a little smug at being able to leave this man speechless for a few moments. “What?” the man finally asks.

“If you knew this was not a legitimate call, then why did you answer?” Lan Zhan presses. He wants to know the answer, he realizes. He’s intrigued by this man, wants to know why he’s still talking to Lan Zhan despite believing he has possibly malicious intentions.

“Oh!” the man says, and he sounds a little awkward now. “I just thought I would, uh, you know, have some fun at your expense!”

Lan Zhan frowns in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan watching him with poorly-hidden amusement. “What expense? Talking is no expense to me.”

The man lets out a hum. “Well, you’re currently not accomplishing your goal.”

“My goal?” Lan Zhan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Your goal of scamming Granny,” the man says matter-of-factly, like Lan Zhan should have already been aware that the number he called is not, in fact, the man’s number – and Lan Zhan is decidedly not disappointed about that – but his grandmother’s. “You’re not accomplishing that! I’d call that an expense.”

Lan Zhan can’t help himself – he improvises a new question. “Well, can I scam you?” Jin Zixuan’s eyes widen in surprise, and Nie Huaisang looks faintly impressed.

The man is silent once again. “Did you –” he breaks off, sounding bewildered, which for some reason feels like a victory.“Did you just ask if you can scam me?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan confirms, and then just to be clear, he asks again. “Can I scam you?”

“Uh – um, sure, you can try,” the man says, and for the first time in this call, he sounds a little flustered.

Lan Zhan can’t believe that worked. He quickly cycles back to the start of the conversation and his original request. “You need to be in front of your computer.”

The man lets out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, that’s still a problem. I didn’t sleep last night and I’m eating tater tots right now and I don’t really feel like getting up.”

“Okay,” Lan Zhan says, and he isn’t sure what makes him do it, but he continues, “I will call you tomorrow morning, then.” Jin Zixuan and Nie Huaisang’s jaws both drop at that.

“I...I might not answer,” the man says after a moment of hesitation. Lan Zhan wonders if he came on a little too strong. “Granny definitely won’t.”

“You answered today,” Lan Zhan points out.

“Ahaha,” the man says, his laughter coming across as slightly nervous. “Touché?”

Lan Zhan nods, before he remembers the man can’t see him. “Mn. I will call you tomorrow. Get some sleep tonight. Have a good day.” He hangs up before he can hear the man’s response.

“Lan Zhan,” Nie Huaisang says the second Lan Zhan pockets his phone. “That was insane.”

“I completed the dare as you asked,” Lan Zhan says, perfectly aware that he went way beyond what was necessary, and that both Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan know it too.

“You are way too good at scam calling,” Jin Zixuan says in a vaguely accusatory way. “Who were you even talking to, anyway?”

At that, Nie Huaisang’s smile becomes a little more amused. “Well, since Lan Zhan is going to be calling him again tomorrow morning, why doesn’t he just ask then?”

“I do not intend to call him,” Lan Zhan says, even though lying is forbidden.

Nie Huaisang gives him a look that’s somehow both sympathetic and condescending. “Sure you don’t.”

Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan eventually get back at Nie Huaisang later in the day by “accidentally” revealing to Jin Guangyao that they know where his work phone has disappeared to, but Lan Zhan doesn’t get his usual momentary satisfaction from watching Nie Huaisang unsuccessfully try to convince Nie Mingjue that he doesn’t know anything about the missing phone. Instead, his mind is stuck on a bright, cheerful voice and the sound of sweet laughter.

~~~

Wei Ying has been having a weird couple of days. On Wednesday, he experienced the high of finishing his solar spectroscopy lab two days early, which has never happened before in this entire semester. On Thursday, things quickly deteriorated when Wei Yuan threw a tantrum because he wanted to spend an extra ten minutes watching TV instead of going for his bath, and then got even worse when Wei Ying realized that in his eagerness to finish the lab early, he forgot to do his Quantum Field Theory problem set for the week and had to pull an emergency all-nighter.

Then yesterday, in his sleep-deprived state, he had a bizarre conversation with the strangest scam caller he’s ever interacted with – not that he’s interacted with many to begin with, but still – and now, here he is again, picking up Granny’s landline because somehow, the scam caller has made good on his promise to call again.

“Hello,” Mr. Scam Caller says, and his deep, calm voice is somehow even more attractive than it was yesterday.

“Mr. Scam Caller!” Wei Ying says happily, and he’s a little surprised by how genuine the emotion in his own voice is. “You called again! I wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.”

Mr. Scam Caller doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “I said I would,” he finally says.

Wei Ying can’t help laughing at that. “I guess you did.” Mr. Scam Caller is silent again, but that’s fine with Wei Ying – he can do enough talking for both of them. “I’m Wei Ying, by the way. Since you were good enough to call me back, I think you deserve my name, even though you’re trying to scam me.”

“You should not give out your name to random people,” Mr. Scam Caller says, like he doesn’t collect sensitive information from people for a living. “Especially scam callers.”

“Ah, but you’re not just any scam caller,” Wei Ying says. “You’re my scam caller. You even told me to get some sleep last night, and I did! I slept for almost five hours, aren’t you proud of me?” He wants the answer to be yes, he realizes as he asks, but he isn’t quite sure why.

“Mn,” Mr. Scam Caller says. There isn’t much inflection in his tone, but it’s clearly supposed to be a noise of agreement, and Wei Ying flushes.

“Ahahaha, Mr. Scam Caller,” he says, trying not to sound too affected by this very basic form of praise. “Don’t you think you should share your name with me too? It’s only fair since you already know mine, after all.”

Mr. Scam Caller is silent for so long that Wei Ying is about to take it back and laugh the request off, but then he speaks again. “Lan Zhan.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying repeats, testing out the name. It sounds familiar, somehow, but he can’t figure out why that is. “Lan Zhan! What a good name! I could say your name all day, Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying is not prepared for hearing his name coming out of Lan Zhan’s mouth. “Do not joke.”

“I’m not joking, Lan Zhan, I promise!” Wei Ying says intently, holding up three fingers before remembering that Lan Zhan can’t see him. “Lan Zhan is a great name.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. This ”Mn,” is different from the one before, Wei Ying thinks, more noncommittal, like he’s neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Wei Ying is suddenly desperate to keep it going. “So, Lan Zhan,” he says. “How are you going to try to scam me today?”

“You need to be in front of your computer,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying is startled by the brief flash of disappointment he feels that Lan Zhan didn’t just call simply to talk to him again. He brushes the thought away a second later – of course Lan Zhan only called because he’s a scam caller and it’s his job.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I can’t,” Wei Ying says. “A-Yuan is using it to play games right now. How can I disturb him when he’s so clearly enjoying himself?”

“A-Yuan?” Lan Zhan asks.

Wei Ying grins. “My son!” he says, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice as he talks about the little boy who stole his heart the moment they met.

Lan Zhan is quiet for several long moments. “I see,” he finally says, sounding more stiff than he had before. “I will stop imposing on you, then.”

“Huh?” Wei Ying says, his smile vanishing. “What do you mean?”

“I have been disturbing you and your family,” Lan Zhan says, his voice still cold compared to how it had sounded previously. “I apologize for intruding on your time. Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan, wait!” Wei Ying blurts out. He holds his breath, straining his ears to hear whether Lan Zhan is still on the other end. When he hears the steady sound of breathing, he exhales shakily. “You aren’t intruding, Lan Zhan,” he explains in a rush. “You’ve been really great all two times I’ve talked to you, you know? And you didn’t have to look out for my sleep schedule but you did, and now you’re trying to protect me and my son from yourself, and I know you’re a scam caller, but I – I mean, talking to you is...nice?”

Lan Zhan stays quiet for a long time, and Wei Ying worries that he’s scared him off. “It is nice speaking to you as well, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says after several long moments that feel like forever to Wei Ying.

“Good,” Wei Ying says, and he truly has no idea why he’s so overwhelmingly relieved. “Good, then don’t hang up on me yet, Lan Zhan. You haven’t even tried to get any sensitive information from me!”

“Do you want me to try to get sensitive information from you?” Lan Zhan asks, which is an incredibly baffling question to hear from a scammer.

“Yes,” Wei Ying says, before he considers the question more carefully. “No? I don’t know, Lan Zhan, now you’re confusing me! What kind of scam caller makes their customer confused by asking odd questions instead of going on with their scamming?”

“I apologize,” Lan Zhan says. “I will refrain from asking confusing questions and focus on scamming you in the future.”

Wei Ying bursts into laughter. “Lan Zhan!” he says delightedly. “Has anyone ever told you how funny you are?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying can’t see his face but he imagines that Lan Zhan looks a bit puzzled, which is adorable. “People generally tell me I am not particularly funny.”

“They’re all wrong,” Wei Ying declares confidently. “You’re very funny, Lan Zhan! And a great conversation partner. Even while you’re in the middle of scamming someone.” Though, he belatedly notices, there have been very few attempts on Lan Zhan’s part to actually commit any kind of scam. “You’ll have to call me every day from now on, so you can have someone to remind you how funny you are!”

It sounds like Lan Zhan says something along the lines of “Mark your words,” but Wei Yuan suddenly runs into the living room, distracting Wei Ying. “Baba, Baba!” he says, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he launches himself into Wei Ying’s arms.

Wei Ying manages to tuck the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he sweeps Wei Yuan onto his lap. “What’s the matter, kiddo?”

Lan Zhan makes an inquisitorial noise on the other end of the phone as Wei Yuan beams up at Wei Ying proudly. “I got the best, most highest score!” Wei Yuan reveals. “All by myself!”

“The best, most highest score?” Wei Ying repeats, grinning down at Wei Yuan. “That’s extremely impressive!” He’s speaking into the phone before he can think better of it. “Lan Zhan, did you hear? A-Yuan got the best, most highest score on his game all by himself, he must be even better than me now!”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. “Congratulations, A-Yuan. You did well.” He says it so solemnly that Wei Ying can’t help laughing again.

“Lan Zhan, you’re so serious,” he says playfully, before addressing Wei Yuan again. “A-Yuan, Lan Zhan said you did well.”

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Yuan asks, peering up at Wei Ying curiously. “Who?”

Wei Ying is on the verge of offering the phone to Wei Yuan when he belatedly realizes that Wen Qing probably wouldn’t be too thrilled if he let the son he adopted from her family speak to a scam caller, no matter how sweet and pleasant to talk to said scam caller is. “He’s my, uh, my phone call buddy,” Wei Ying explains hastily.

Wei Yuan nods. “Thank you, Phone Call-gege!” he says with a toothy smile.

“You made him smile, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, clutching his heart with the arm that isn’t keeping Wei Yuan in place on his lap. “How can you be so good? Even before meeting him, you already won him over.”

“I am glad I could make him happy,” Lan Zhan says in that unaffected voice of his. It makes Wei Ying want to do something to make him lose his composure.

“Do you want to make me happy too?” Wei Ying asks, and even though Wei Yuan is in the room, he lowers his voice enough for it to unmistakably be an attempt at flirting. “I can think of a few ways you could do that.”

Lan Zhan audibly inhales sharply, and Wei Ying mentally celebrates. “I...must go,” Lan Zhan says a second later, and Wei Ying’s mental celebration is halted in its tracks.

“Will you call tomorrow?” Wei Ying asks quickly, trying to stall him, trying to do anything he can to ensure he can talk to this strange, fascinating scam caller again. “After all, you didn’t manage to scam me yet.”

There’s a beat, before Lan Zhan speaks. “Mn,” he says, and Wei Ying can’t stop smiling. “I will call you tomorrow. Goodbye to you and A-Yuan.”

Like he did yesterday, Lan Zhan hangs up before Wei Ying has the chance to reply, but Wei Ying doesn’t care too much. He pulls Wei Yuan into a hug and sighs happily.

Wei Yuan looks at Wei Ying. “Baba is happy that Phone Call-gege will call him tomorrow?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Wei Ying says, patting Wei Yuan’s back contentedly. “I am happy.”

~~~

Lan Zhan isn’t sure how things got to this point. He had called Wei Ying back the day after his prank call with the intention of explaining the truth – that he is not, in fact, a scam caller but simply a fourth-year music and literature student – but the conversation had gotten away from him and he missed his chance.

Now, a month later, having called Wei Ying every day since then, Lan Zhan wonders why, in all that time, he still hasn’t tried to correct Wei Ying’s perception of him. Maybe, he thinks, it has something to do with the fact that when he’s talking to Wei Ying, he’s helpless to do anything but go along with whatever conversation Wei Ying feels like having. He now knows that Wei Ying’s son, Wei Yuan, was adopted a year ago, and that Wei Ying lives with Wei Yuan’s grandmother and two cousins. He knows all about Wei Ying’s perfect sister – coincidentally, she turns out to be none other than Jiang Yanli – and his angry brother. And over the course of a month, Lan Zhan has somehow become Wei Ying’s scam caller, and the highlight of his day is always making that call.

Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan, traitors that they are, had decided that it would be a good idea to inform Lan Huan of Lan Zhan’s daily conversations with Wei Ying. Predictably, Lan Huan had been delighted to hear about Lan Zhan’s first real display of interest in another person, which is why Lan Zhan is currently in a coffee shop, listening to Lan Huan try to convince him for at least the tenth time to arrange a meeting in person with Wei Ying.

“Didi, you clearly like this Wei Ying quite a lot,” Lan Huan says reasonably. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to try meeting him in person. Imagine if I hadn’t gone to meet A-Yao when Mingjue-ge mentioned him for the first time.”

Lan Zhan graciously does not point out that, had Lan Huan not met Jin Guangyao, Lan Zhan would not have to wake up at odd hours to strange noises coming from the other bedroom in their shared apartment. “He has an obligation to his son,” he says instead, just like he always does every time they have this conversation. “I do not wish to pull him away from that duty by imposing my feelings.”

“You know Huaisang is friends with him,” Lan Huan points out. “Surely he would have told you by now if Wei Ying is not interested in pursuing any relationships.”

There’s nothing “sure” about anything when it comes to Nie Huaisang, Lan Zhan thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud, not wanting to be rude to his brother who, ultimately, is only pushing the matter because he has Lan Zhan’s best interests at heart. “Regardless,” Lan Zhan says, “it is unnecessary to meet Wei Ying in person.”

The barista calls out their order, and Lan Zhan gets up to retrieve their drinks before Lan Huan can say anything else. As he’s making his way back to the table, though, drinks in hand, he’s stopped in his tracks by the appearance of a small weight clinging tightly to his leg. “Gege!” says the weight. It is, Lan Zhan finds when he looks down, a small boy, no older than three or four.

“Hello,” Lan Zhan says, trying not to let his panic show. As a rule, he tries to avoid interacting with children he doesn't know when their guardians aren’t present. “Where is your caretaker?”

“Baba is sitting over there with Auntie Qing and Angry Uncle!” the boy says, pointing to a table in the far corner of the shop.

Lan Zhan looks in the direction the boy is pointing and blinks a few times. Sitting at the table are two men Lan Zhan recognizes from Nie Huaisang's alternate friend group, the one he spends time with outside of Lan-Jin-Nie gatherings, and an unfamiliar woman who bears a slight resemblance to the boy still holding Lan Zhan's leg. “You must go back to your Baba,” Lan Zhan says carefully. “He will wonder where you went, otherwise.”

“But,” the boy says, a pout forming on his face, “Baba said that you were a very pretty gege and he wished he could talk to you.”

Lan Zhan wonders what kind of parent lets their child go off to talk to random strangers they find attractive. The last thing Lan Zhan wants is for this boy to start crying, though, so he nods. “I will accompany you back to your table. You should not worry your Baba by leaving him to talk to unknown people.”

The boy’s unhappy expression vanishes instantaneously, replaced by a bright smile. “Okay, Pretty-gege!” he agrees. “Come meet my Baba!”

Lan Zhan belatedly realizes he’s still holding the two cups of tea, but it’s too late to do anything about it, because he and the boy have already reached their destination.

“Baba!” the boy exclaims happily, climbing into the lap of the man who, presumably, is his father.

“A-Yuan!” the man says, sounding equally excited, and Lan Zhan freezes, both at the voice and the name. “Where did you run off to, huh, kiddo?”

“I found Pretty-gege for Baba,” A-Yuan says seriously, and his father looks at Lan Zhan for the first time. “Now Baba can talk to him.” Then, apparently deciding that his work is finished, A-Yuan promptly unlocks his father’s phone and starts playing a game.

Lan Zhan is still unable to move as he stares into the man’s sparkling grey eyes. “Wei Ying,” he says, because it feels like the only thing he can say.

The man – Wei Ying, Lan Zhan is certain it has to be him – gapes at him, his eyes widening in shock and what can only be recognition. “Lan Zhan?” Somehow, the sound of his own name rolling off Wei Ying’s tongue is even more appealing to Lan Zhan in person than it is over the phone. “You’re Huaisang’s gorgeous friend that I’ve been begging him to introduce me to for literally years? Huaisang is friends with a scam caller?”

The man sitting next to Wei Ying slams his hand against the table. “This is your stupid scam caller boyfriend?” he demands. “You haven’t shut up about wanting to meet him for weeks, and he was easily accessible in person this entire time?”

“A-Cheng,” the woman at the table reprimands, rolling her eyes as she lays a hand on the man’s arm. She shoots a pointed look at Wei Ying as she continues, “Relax. We already knew Wei Ying is an idiot.”

“He is not,” Lan Zhan says reflexively, somewhat irritated that these people are insulting Wei Ying for no discernible reason. “Wei Ying is very intelligent.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, it’s okay,” Wei Ying says with a laugh, though his cheeks have turned a soft shade of pink. “Jiang Cheng and Qing-jie are just like that. I always say they’re the grumpiest couple in the world. It’s like they really were made for each other!”

“Shut the hell up,” Jiang Cheng says, making an aborted movement towards Wei Ying before apparently remembering the child in Wei Ying’s lap and settling for clenching his hand in a fist instead.

“Language,” Wei Ying says with a sunny smile. “A-Yuan is a growing little boy who doesn’t need to hear words like that.” He turns to Lan Zhan and his smile somehow grows even bigger. Lan Zhan is torn between looking away to avoid being blinded by its intensity and being absolutely transfixed by how lovely it looks on Wei Ying’s face. “But enough of that. Lan Zhan, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you, and it turns out you’re actually the same person I wanted to get to know anyway!”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. “I recognized you as well, from Nie Huaisang’s friend group.”

Wei Ying looks momentarily annoyed. “I’ve been asking him to introduce you to me for so long.” The displeasure seems to pass a moment later, when Wei Ying beams up at Lan Zhan again, and Lan Zhan has to remember how to breathe. “Of course, I should have guessed that Lan Zhan would find a way to introduce himself to me first!”

“Wei Ying was the first to introduce himself,” Lan Zhan reminds him, recalling their second phone call.

“You have such a good memory, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says with an almost dreamy sigh, his eyes shining. “I bet you remember all our phone calls.”

“He’s a scam caller,” the woman Wei Ying had addressed as Qing-jie – which means she must be Wen Qing, one of Wei Yuan’s cousins – interrupts. “It’s unlikely that he remembers everyone he calls, let alone what he says when he calls them.” She narrows her eyes at Lan Zhan. “So why, exactly, have you continued to call our home?”

“I am not a scam caller,” Lan Zhan says firmly, relieved to be telling the truth at last. “I am a student of music and literature.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re not a scam caller? The first time you called the house, you were trying to scam Granny.”

“I was not,” Lan Zhan says. “I was dared to make a prank call, and you made assumptions.”

Everyone is silent for a moment, and the only sounds come from the background chatter in the cafe. Lan Zhan is reminded of his brother, who’s still waiting for his tea, and sends a silent apology to him in his mind. “A...prank call?” Wei Ying finally asks. “So you were never really trying to steal our sensitive information?”

Lan Zhan nods. “Mn. Nie Huaisang provided the dare and the number.”

“Of course it was him,” Wei Ying mutters, seemingly to himself. “When I get my hands on him...” He trails off, before a new thought appears to strike him. “But Lan Zhan, that means he did kind of introduce us to each other after all! If it weren’t for him, then who knows if we ever would have met each other?” He pauses, his head cocked to the side. “You know, I always thought you didn’t try very hard to scam me. I thought maybe it was because we were so close, but now it all makes sense!”

“We are close,” Lan Zhan feels the need to clarify. “If I were truly a scam caller, I would not have tried to scam you after speaking with you as we have been.”

Wei Ying’s entire face flushes as Jiang Cheng snorts and Wen Qing looks simultaneously exasperated and amused. “Lan Zhan! How can you say something like that so easily?”

“Lying is forbidden,” Lan Zhan says matter-of-factly, which doesn’t quite answer the question, but reveals enough of his reasoning to have Wei Ying burying his face in his hands with a moan.

The noise must distract Wei Yuan from his game, because he looks up at Wei Ying and asks, “Baba, okay?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m okay,” Wei Ying says, smiling reassuringly at the boy. “Lan-gege here was just saying some very sweet things.” It’s Lan Zhan’s turn to get flustered by the sudden nickname, his ears heating up as Wei Ying grins innocently at him.

“Pretty-gege is Phone Call-gege?” Wei Yuan asks, and Lan Zhan is mildly impressed that such a young child was able to piece together a conversation he was only half listening to. He nods, and Wei Yuan claps his hands happily. “Good! Baba likes Phone Call-gege and Pretty-gege and it would be hard to pick but now those geges are the same!” He looks at Lan Zhan intently. “Gege will stay with us?”

“A-Yuan,” Wei Ying says hurriedly, “you shouldn’t – ahaha, Lan Zhan, don’t take him too seriously, I’ll explain to him later –”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan cuts him off pointedly. “A-Yuan. I must return to my brother for now.” Both father and son look visibly deflated, so Lan Zhan takes a deep breath and continues. “But I would like to see you again.”

“O-oh,” Wei Ying says, looking both hopeful and more stunned than he really should. Really, how could he possibly think that Lan Zhan wouldn’t want to see him again? “Well, of course you can see us again! Just give us a call any time, you already have our number, after all.”

“I would like your cell phone number,” Lan Zhan says before he can chicken out. “For convenience.”

“Yes, of course!” We Ying squeaks. Lan Zhan can relate – he had no idea he had it in him to be so bold. Wei Ying holds out his phone with the “New Contact” screen open, and Lan Zhan saves his name as “My Scam Caller” before sending a text to himself. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says breathlessly when he takes his phone back and sees the contact name. He stares at Lan Zhan with starry eyes. “You’re so funny. I like you so much.”

“I like you so much too,” Lan Zhan says automatically, and the corners of his mouth pull upward into a soft smile. Wei Ying gasps and smiles so radiantly that Lan Zhan doesn’t even care that they aren’t alone, that at least four sets of eyes are fixed on them right now – he’s under no illusion that his brother hasn’t been watching him this whole time.

They reluctantly say goodbye after Lan Zhan promises that he’ll meet Wei Ying and Wei Yuan tomorrow after his classes end. Lan Zhan feels light as he returns to his brother’s table, the tea in his hands completely cold by now.

Lan Huan smiles knowingly at him as he sits down. “So,” he says, “you were saying that meeting Wei Ying in person was unnecessary?”

Lan Zhan takes a sip of cold tea to avoid speaking, but he doesn’t need to – he knows that to his brother, his happiness level is at the point where he might as well be fully grinning. But he’s allowed to be this elated, he thinks. He’s allowed to not care about Nie Huaisang’s meddling or Lan Huan’s amused expression or Jiang Cheng’s attitude.

After all, he has Wei Ying’s number in his phone, a date planned for tomorrow, and a whole future together, just waiting for him to reach out and take it.

[zoemurph]

to have a friend, chapter 9: $202

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

that noise you hear? its me. screaming. college is horrific and im super screwed please write this essay on the decameron for me

im ALMOST done with nano!! (as you can tell from the wordcount) there might not be a chapter update by the end of the month but i will hit my goal! wow magic. little bit of a shorter chapter this time cause uhhhh ive never claimed to be good at this

shoutout to my lovely friends for all their contributions to this fic. particularly thank you to cam for the amazing project name

warnings: anxiety, hints of bad eating habits

enjoy!

Evan pulls off his scarf and hangs it in his locker.

It’s finally snowed.

It snowed a few times before, October is notorious for it’s random snowstorms, but this is the first time this year it’s stuck. It started snowing Sunday morning and almost an inch gathered by mid afternoon. It was pretty light and uneventful, but Evan still made a point to send a picture of a snow dusted tree to Connor. Connor had replied ‘aesthetic’ and sent a picture of a plant Cynthia put in the living room that was mostly just dying.

Evan hangs up his coat and shoves the mittens in the sleeves. November is ending and only now does he really need to wear a coat to school. And take the bus. It’s hell.  

“So this is why you have a locker,” Connor says.

“You have a locker too,” Evan reminds him.

Connor laughs. “No I fucking don’t, not if I can’t tell you which one it is.”

Evan shakes his head. “You’re just lazy.”

“Yes.”

“But if you ever need to hang up a coat you’re welcome to use mine.”

Connor tilts his head. “Ev, what makes you think I’m weak enough to wear a winter coat?”

Evan stares at him. “The fact that tomorrow it’s supposed to be like six degrees out?”

“We die like men,” Connor says simply. He pulls Evan’s spanish textbook out of the locker and hands it to him.

“You die,” Evan says pointedly. “And your hands are freezing.” Evan stuffs the textbook into his bag and zips it shut. “Do you own gloves?”

“Cool fingerless gloves because it fits the aesthetic,” Connor says, wiggling his fingers.

Evan closes the locker. “You’re the worst.”

Connor bumps their shoulders together. “Come on, Ev, admit they’re cool.”

Evan shakes his head. “They really aren’t.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Connor says as he opens the door to the stairwell.

“Do you think I lie to you?” Evan asks, stopping to look Connor in the eye.

Connor stares at him.

Evan holds his breath. He doesn’t lie to Connor. Nothing he does is a lie. The question is will Connor figure that out. And if he does, will he hate him for it.

Connor rolls his eyes. “You just haven’t seen them yet. They’re cool.”

“Whatever you say,” Evan mutters. He starts down the stairs. “Has Jared started yet?”

“Started what?”

Evan opens the door at the bottom of the stairwell and holds it for Connor. “He has your phone number right?”

Connor frowns. “Yeah? Is something horrible about to happen?”

“What’s your definition of horrible?”

“Evan.”

“What?” Evan stops walking. “Don’t you go down?” He nods to the stairs.

Connor shrugs. “Yeah, but I can go the long way with you. What is Jared going to do?”

“Thanksgiving is Thursday,” Evan says slowly.

“Thank god. I don’t know how we’re getting through Wednesday but I’m fucking dying.”

“We have a half day, Connor.” Evan steps closer to him to squeeze past a group of students crowded around a locker.

“Who cares.” Connor looks down at him. “Anyway, what shit is Kleinman up to? And what does Thanksgiving have to do with it?”

“What happens after Thanksgiving?” Evan asks.

“People try to kill each other over jeans?” Connor suggests.

Evan snorts. “I-I mean, yeah, but it’s Christmas—”

“Jared is Jewish,” Connor interrupts. “I’m also Jewish. You’re Jewish.”

Evan glances up at him. “I know. He has this playlist of Christmas songs that he blasts in his car. I don’t know why. But he also has a playlist of Jewish parodies.”

“I’m sorry what?”

Evan sighs. “There’s one that’s called Shalom and he sang it for like a week. Basically, December is Jared’s favorite time of year because he can be an asshole under the guise of being ‘festive’.”

Connor groans. “Please don’t say he’s going to send me links to all these videos.”

“He will. I’m warning you.” Evan pauses. “Uh, this is my stop.” He motions to the classroom to their right.

Connor nods. “Cool. I’ll see you later, I have to go block Jared’s number.”

Evan smiles as Connor walks away and takes a deep breath before he goes into the classroom and sits down.

His pocket is light.

It’s Monday. Connor didn’t pay him today.

Evan rests his chin in his hand and hides his smile.

Maybe Connor just forgot. But it feels nice. Like this is real.

That’s what Evan wants.

—«·»—

“I’ve been talking to Baz,” Alana says, flipping through her notebook as she walks. Evan nods. “I think she might be a good advisor for the club? Students typically feel relatively comfortable talking to her and I know she’s discussed mental health at the beginning of the year before.”

Evan tightens one of the straps of his backpack. “Okay. I, um, we need a name before we talk to her?”

Alana shakes her head. “I think we can just discuss the idea with her, even if we don’t have all the details solidified yet. If she’s against the idea, regardless of the current state of the details, we have to find a new advisor.”

“Oh.” Evan steps away from Alana to let someone pass between them. “Do you… Like… Does it ever feel…not worth it?”

Alana furrows her eyebrows but doesn’t look over to him. “What do you mean?”

“You won’t even be around for the club, n-not really?” Evan shrugs. “It’s…a lot of work for something you won’t be around to see, I guess.”

“Well…” She slows her steps. “I mean, hopefully it’ll start next semester, and if not we can always say we took the step to start a discussion of mental health in the school but…it could help other people?”

Evan’s ears burned. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t,” Alana says. “I’ve wondered it myself. There’s no glory in getting the details perfect if you aren’t there to run it, but if we help other people, I think it’s worth it in the end.”

Evan walks up to his locker and puts in the combination. “Y-you’re right, sorry I just— sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s valid to think about.” Alana taps her nails against her notebook. “Now if only we could come up with a name…”

“A name for what?” Connor asks.

Evan looks up at him in surprise. “Isn’t your next class on the other side of the school?”

Connor shrugs. “Who gives a shit?”

“A name for our club,” Alana says, fixing her glasses. “It has a focus on mental health and starting a conversation about it in our school.”

“This club,” Connor says. He tugs on the strap of his bag. “What are you working with for names?”

Evan and Alana exchange a glance.

“Nothing,” Alana says after a moment. “I was thinking maybe we could have the word ‘project’ in the name, but I haven’t come up with anything that’s stuck. Do you have any suggestions?”

“The Fuck Project,” Connor deadpans.

Evan covers his eyes with a hand.

“We are not calling it the Fuck Project,” Alana says.

“It’ll get people’s attention,” Connor points out.

“Not in a good way,” Evan mutters. He drags his hand down his face and looks at Connor, who’s grinning at him.

“We do need to get this approved by the principal,” Alana adds. “And that name will give people the wrong idea, that is absolutely not what this club is about.”

Connor shrugs a shoulder. “Temporary name, congrats, I helped out.”

“Not really.”

The warning bell rings and Alana glances over her shoulder.

“I should go,” she says, “but I’ll text you about Baz?”

Evan nods. “Y-yeah that’s— okay yeah. I’ll see you later?”

Alana smiles and hurries down the hall.

Connor watches her leave. “Baz?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, yeah.” Evan grabs the books he needs and closes the locker with his foot. “We need an advisor and Lana thinks Baz might be willing to help? Have you had her?”

Connor shakes his head. “Baz teaches the CP kids, usually. I’ve been, uh, honors.”

Evan blinks. “Oh yeah, I forgot college prep was a thing. She taught regular english sophomore year.”

“You had her?” Connor asks.

“Uh…kind of?”

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

“Bad semester,” Evan mutters. “I, uh… There weren’t a lot of classes I…went to?”

Connor nods. “Got it.”

“Don’t you have class?” Evan asks quickly. His head is starting to spin.

“Yeah, I just.” Connor steps closer and Evan’s heart skips a few beats. “I’m sorry I forgot this earlier.” He presses a bill into Evan’s hand.

Evan closes his eyes.

Right.

Right. Right, of course. Connor just forgot. He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s sticking to the agreement.

Evan feels sick.

He crumples the bill up in his fist. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he mumbles.

“It won’t happen again,” Connor promises.

Evan’s hand feels like it’s on fire.

—«·»—

Jared tosses his bag onto the couch and disappears into the kitchen. “Have you gotten any better about keeping food in your house?” he shouts.

Evan rolls his eyes. “Why do I need t-to buy food when you do it for me?”

Jared leans out of the doorway. “Fuck off, man, you never buy the chips I like.”  

“Exactly.”

Jared glares at Evan and ducks back into the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“Not really.” Evan reaches into his pocket and grabs the ten dollar bill Connor handed to him earlier. “Meet me up in my room?”

“Sure, stealing this chocolate, B-T-dubs.”

“I can’t stop you,” Evan mutters. “Bring up your bag! Don’t leave it on the couch!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Evan leaves Jared to pull apart the kitchen and heads up to his room. He leaves his backpack on his bed and pulls open his closet, pushing aside sweatshirts to get to a shoebox he’s buried. He pulls the ten out of his pocket and stares at it for a moment before he takes the top off the shoebox and puts it inside. Then he covers it back up with his sweatshirts and closes his closet door.

Now he can pretend it doesn’t exist.

When Jared kicks open the bedroom door with popcorn in one hand and chocolate in the other, Evan is sitting on his bed with his laptop open.

“Wow, lame,” Jared says. Evan glances up at him. “I’m kidding,” Jared says quickly. “That’s exactly what I did yesterday.” He drops down into Evan’s desk chair. “How’d you spend your weekend?”

Evan shrugs. “Same. S-some homework and uh…spent Friday with Connor.”

Jared opens his bag of popcorn. “I’ve been fucking dying to know, what have you spent all that money on? Murphy has to have given you a shit ton at this point.”

Evan stares at his laptop screen, rubbing his hands on his pants. “N-nothing yet it just…it feels weird.” He can feel Jared’s eyes on him and feels a panic build in his chest. “It feels weird! It’s just— it’s in a box in my closet.”

“Sweet.” Jared stands up.

“Jared!”

“Okay, okay, yeah, that was kind of dicky.” Jared falls back down into the chair. “I wasn’t going to take it, I was joking. Your money dude, you earned it with your weird uh…situation.” Evan makes a face. “Don’t fucking do that with your face, you know this is weird.”

“Shut up,” Evan mutters. He could go into a coma right now and that would be fine.

“We can start a list of things you could buy with it.” Jared throws a piece of popcorn into the air and tries to catch it in his mouth. It bounces off his right lense and lands on the floor. “I’ll get that later. Anyway. List.”

Evan glances to his closet.

“One, not shitty sneakers. Two, shirts that aren’t polos. Three, so much candy. Four, a video game. Five, multiple video games even, I don’t know how much money you have. Six, something nice for your mom cause you’re a real momma’s boy. Seven, a fuck ton of yugioh cards—”

“Yugioh cards?” Evan interrupts.

“Yes.” Jared throws a piece of popcorn at Evan. “Let me finish.”

Evan shakes his head. “I think I get it.” He closes his laptop and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “You don’t want the money sitting in my closet.”

“No shit.” Jared tosses Evan the chocolate bar. “You can have half. But yeah, you’ve got money, dude, it’s not gonna fucking collect interest if it’s in the back of your closet or anything. You’re spending all this time doing this bullshit job, why not actually use what you get paid?”

Evan opens the chocolate bar and breaks it in half before handing the half in the packaging back to Jared. “I-I already told you. It feels…weird. I don’t know.”

“You know,” Jared says as he takes the chocolate, “this is kind of a sugar daddy situation.”

Evan immediately goes red. “Oh my god.”  

“Minus the sex stuff,” Jared says casually. “And the age difference, cause I don’t think Murphy is that much older you, is he?”

Evan is ready to melt into the ground. Or die. Or both. Both would be perferrable. “Jared, please—”

“Sugar buddy,” Jared says, snapping his fingers. “Connor is your sugar buddy.”

“This is the worst.”

Jared takes a bite of chocolate. “Do you have a better name for this?”

Friendship? Evan wants to just call it friendship. That’s totally not the case but—

“We can call it platonic prostitution if you want.”

“If you say that again I am kicking you out of my house.”

Jared holds up his hands in surrender. “Valid. That is totally valid.”

Evan starts breaking up his half the chocolate bar into smaller pieces. “I just… I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s a weird situation. But let’s not call it…that.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “Fucking weirdass… Kind of regret helping out with it, honestly. It feels like a trainwreck I can’t look away from.”

“Really comforting there, Jared,” Evan mutters.  

Jared spins in the desk chair. “I’m just saying, what started out as a funny ha ha losers thing has gotten decidedly less funny.”

Evan furrows his eyebrows. “What was this funny?”

“Dude, come on, at least the first week was fucking hilarious,” Jared says with a crooked smile. It seems forced, but it’s still there.

Evan grimaces. “It wasn’t.”

Jared loses the smile. “Okay. It wasn’t funny, my bad.”

Evan makes a strangled sound. “Do you talk to Connor?” Some of the chocolate is starting to melt. He pops a piece of it into his mouth.

Jared snorts. “Hell no. We coexist, are you really going to ask more of us?”

“No,” Evan admits. “But if I tell you something, you won’t tell him?”

Jared gives him a weird look. “Tell him?”

Evan stares at him with wide eyes. “You’re already judging me!”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

Jared throws his hands in the air. “I don’t even know what I would be judging you for!”

“I want Connor to stop paying me.”

Jared stares at Evan.

Evan’s hands start to sweat and his heart races. He looks down at the chocolate in the palm of his hand and eats it before it can melt any more. He wipes his hands on his pants. Then he wipes them again.

“Yeah, no shit,” Jared says once the silence is too long and too awkward and too uncomfortable.

Evan groans and collapses on the bed. “I just—”

“Want to be friends?” Jared offers.

“Um…yes, but also—”

Jared sits up straighter. “You didn’t.”

Evan pulls on his fingers. “I…what?”

“You’re in love with him!” Jared shouts.

“No!” Evan almost falls off the bed as he scrambles to his feet. “No, I don’t—”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! It’s just— it’s just a crush oh my god, Jared.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “You said crush.”

Evan’s face gets hot. “Uh, yeah I— it-it’s not… I mean… I don’t think… It’s not like a big…deal? Or anything?”  

Jared stares at him. “Evan, it’s a big deal.”

Evan laughs awkwardly. “W-we don’t have to make it one.”

Jared squints. “Okay… I still have to kick your ass in Mario Kart. You ready?”

Evan takes a breath. “You’ve never been able to beat me, Jare. Especially since you keep choosing Rainbow Road.”

Jared jumps out of his seat. “Hell yeah I do, I’m going to mop the floor with your blood.”

Evan smiles. “Okay. If you say so.”

—«·»—

Jared loses. He swears aggressively as he reaches for his wallet to buy dinner.

“I hate you,” he hisses as he shoves a box of mozzarella sticks at Evan.

“Thanks,” Evan says. “Let me know when you want a rematch.”

Jared flips him off and grabs his sandwich off the table.

—«·»—

Heidi comes home as Jared is getting ready to leave. “Jared!” she says in surprise as she puts her bag down on the kitchen table. “I had no idea you were coming over.”

Evan and Jared look up from the television.

“Hey, Heidi, just wanted to steal your TV.” Jared tosses his Wii controller onto the couch.

“Your bag is still in my room,” Evan reminds him.

Jared shoots a fingergun at him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t leave on my account,” Heidi says, pulling her hair out of its ponytail.

“Nah, I have homework,” Jared says. “The moms want me home soon anyway.” He checks his phone and makes a face. “Yeah I should go, but thanks for letting me invade your house.”

“Anytime, Jared,” she says.

Jared grabs his bag from Evan’s room and bumps his shoulder against Evan’s as he goes to leave, wiggling his eyebrows.

Evan rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he whispers.

Jared mimes zipping his lips. “See you tomorrow in hell.”

When Jared is gone, Evan finds his mom doing the dishes in the kitchen. “Can I help?” he asks.

She holds out a pot. “Dry and put away?”

Evan nods and takes it from her.

“It’s nice that you’re hanging out with Jared again,” Heidi muses. She washes a cup and sets it aside for Evan.

“Hm?” Evan dries off the pot and puts it in the cabinet next to the oven.

“You and Jared. You haven’t really spent a lot of time with him lately.”

“Oh.” Evan grabs the cup. “He’s been over. We…hang out and stuff.”

“That’s great.” She smiles at him. “It’s good that you have a friend.”

“Friends,” Evan corrects quickly, feeling guilt twist his stomach. He should be better at this. This friend thing. He should be making more progress than he has.

Heidi looks at him in surprise. “You’ve never mentioned anyone else before.”  

“Uh, yeah.” Evan keeps his eyes on the dishes he’s drying. “Connor.” He says it and then tries not to think about it. “And um…Alana?”

“Oh!” Heidi puts down the dish soap. “Well that’s great! We should try to have dinner with them sometimes.”

Evan ducks his head. “Mom.”

“I want to meet your friends!”

“I— uh…okay, I’ll um, ask them about it.” Evan decides he should never speak again. He keeps digging his holes deeper and deeper.

Evan talks with Connor by his locker. He walks with Connor in the halls. He smiles and laughs and pretends his chest isn’t constricting.

Connor looks at him and sometimes it feels real.

The ten isn’t in Evan’s pocket anymore, but Evan can still feel it’s presence.

They sit together at lunch and Connor pokes at Evan’s jello with a straw and Evan tries to keep his heartrate under control. Connor rambles on about something that happened in AP Lit — which is apparently the only class he pays attention to in any way — and Evan mostly just nods. Connor keeps looking at him and he kind of feels like dying.

Evan feels like he’s dying and then Connor smiles at him and better and it’s worse and Evan hates every part of his existence.

Connor bumps his shoulder against Evan’s and the butterflies in Evan’s stomach fluttered.

—«·»—

Evan sits at his desk and does homework. He hates it but it gives him something to do. His phone buzzes from where it’s plugged in next to his bed. Evan glances at his Spanish textbook. He gets up and checks his messages.

From: Connor To: Evan      can i call?

Evan’s throat immediately feels like it’s closing him. There’s an anchor wrapped around him and it’s dragging him down. Down down down—

He tries to type out a response but his hands are shaking.

Another message pops up on the screen.

From: Connor To: Evan      fuck its not bad shit i just realized how that sounds      im home alone and larry just got back and i dont want to talk to him      if im on the phone hell probably leave me alone

Evan takes a deep breathe and presses his palms against his eyes. It’s fine. It really is fine.

He replies as fast as he can, but it still takes him a minute to calm down.

From: Evan To: Connor      YEah fo course sorry for takin g so long to rpely

Connor’s response is almost immediate.

From: Connor To: Evan      you didnt take long at all ev youre fine      sorry if i scared you      gonna call now

Evan stares at the screen of his phone. As soon as ‘Incoming call from Connor’ pops up, he hits answer.

“Hello?” Evan sits down on the edge of his bed and grips the blankets.

“Hey,” Connor says. He sounds kind of tired. “Sorry if I freaked you out, didn’t think before I sent that.”

“It’s fine,” Evan promises. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. A moment of panic. They can move on. “W-what do you want to, um, to talk about?”

“Don’t really know,” Connor admits. “Nice to talk to you, you sound different over the phone.”

Evan smiles. “So do you.” Connor’s voice sounds a bit deeper. Maybe rougher. “Someone thought I was a dad once when I had to call to cancel an appointment.”

“What?” There’s laughter in Connor’s voice and it makes Evan’s head spin. “How the fuck?”

“I don’t know. I-I just— I was trying to cancel and they were like ‘the patient’ and I was confused but was too scared to ask and then they asked my relation to the patient and were like ‘are you his father?’ and I was just kind of like… Well no, I’m the patient.”

Connor snorts. “Amazing. I’m proud of you for cancelling your son’s appointment.”

Evan leans back on his hands. “N-no they— we sorted it out. I almost threw up afterward but uh…probably could’ve gone worse.”

“Phone calls aren’t your thing, huh?” Connor asks. “Sorry for making you do this. If it’s easier for you we can stop.”

Evan shakes his head and then realizes that Connor can’t see him. “No it’s fine. Really, it’s okay with you. It’s nice.” Whoops that was more than he was supposed to share.   

“Okay, if you’re sure. Let me know if you want to hang up.”

“Of course,” Evan murmurs. “Uh… I asked you this like…three hours ago, but how was your day?”

“Pretty shit,” Connor admits. “Right now I’m uh….eating grapes.”

“Well that’s good. You didn’t eat lunch.”

“I never eat lunch.”

Evan hums. “Okay, that’s true.”

“What about you?” Connor asks. “Have you eaten anything today other than shitty cafeteria food?”

“Uh…no,” Evan says slowly. “I’m not super hungry.”

“Get a drink or something for me.”

Evan smiles. “Are you trying to parent me?”

“Fuck, Zoe’s rubbing off on me, isn’t she? How the fuck?” Evan imagines Connor dragging his hand through his hair.

“Her and your mom,” Evan points out. “They aren’t that similar, you know.”

There’s a slight pause. “I guess you’re right. I don’t notice that shit. Zoe’s just…Zoe. I don’t know.”

“Outsider’s perspective,” Evan suggests. “I also don’t live with them, so I might be wrong.”

“Huh.” There’s a pause. “Okay but hydration.”

“I’m going,” Evan promises. He stands up from his bed and heads down the stairs. “Are you staying hydrated?”

Connor clears his throat. “Uh…” Evan smiles as he hears Connor’s bed squeak as Connor stands up. “Yeah of course.”

“You’re going to get a drink, aren’t you?” Evan asks. He walks into the kitchen and pulls a cup from the cupboard.

“No,” Connor says quickly. “Definitely not.”

“Okay.” Evan fills the cup with water and takes a sip. “So uh…sports?”

Something on Connor’s end shuts. “I’m gay.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Okay. Then you choose the conversation starter.”

“Okay. Did you know that eggplants are fruits?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck there goes my fun fact.”

Evan laughs. “I’m sure you can think of something else.”

“Don’t have faith in me, Ev, it’ll end badly. But give me a second.” Evan drinks his water as Connor thinks. “Okay. Want to hear lots of random shit about Ancient Egypt? Zoe and I had a phase.”

Evan sits down in a kitchen chair. “You know I do.”

“Well get comfortable, because this is going to be a while.”

[lacependragon]

This Week in Writing (#1)

Well, it’s the end of the second week in January, which means it’s time for a writing update! We’re changing up the title this year so that it’s not a huge deal if I miss one or two. I’m also changing up the format too. I’m not just gonna talk about what I’ve already written, but what I’m working on, what my plans are, and what my goals for the upcoming week are.

Let’s get started!

So, if you read my 2018 Writing Goals post, you know I’m hoping to do the oneshot a week challenge. So far, I’ve managed to keep on track with that! This week I posted two oneshots: Sun and Rain, for RWBY, and Accommodations and Considerations, for My Hero Academia. I’ve been super pleased with the response to both of them, so, thank you!

This week was also the long-awaited return of Static on the Radio! Glad to see how people liked that! And that people were still interested in it. We’re gonna finish it out before Spring, folks. Hope you’re excited.

I also, in the first week of January, brought back Impact Zone and Overcrowded Vanities. Seems like plenty of people were pleased to see them back, so I’m proud to announce that they will be part of my monthly update schedule!

Speaking of updates, though, you might notice a bit of a stagnation over the rest of the week. That’s because the things I’m working on now are a lot bigger in scope and chapter size. This week, between oneshots and getting back into the swing of school, I’ve been working on writing the next chapter of Eight Ways to Sunday, as well as making plans for my return into smut fic. I’ve got a lot of plans for both, so stay tuned!

The other big thing I’m working on is Take Me Underground, which is going to be my 100th RWBY fic. How cool is that? Underground is going to be a hell of a fic – and a hell of a ride, at that. For those of you who read Smells Like Team Spirit, it definitely fits into the same vein in terms of overall style, but instead of being about superheroes, it’s about spies. I’m very excited for it, but because the chapters are going to be 10k+ each, it’s going to take a bit to get it out.

So, what about the upcoming week? Well, I’ve got a couple goals.

Eight Ways to Sunday, Chapter 8 – I’m almost done this. Just have the last scene to go, so it should be up either tomorrow or Tuesday night.

Impact Zone, Chapter 15 – Written, just need to edit it and compare it to my notes. Should be up tomorrow or Tuesday night as well!

Oneshot – Won’t be in RWBY, as I can’t post it, as Underground has to be posted first, but I’ll be working on some RWBY ones as well. Expect to see this by the weekend. It’ll probably be BNHA.

Take Me Underground, Chapter 1 – This is not coming out this week, but it’s on top of my list for writing when I have downtime. I want to try and crack the 5k mark for it this week and maybe push for 6k or 7k if I can. That’ll put me in the back half (and hopefully back third) of its first chapter so I can get it out before the end of the month.

Static on the Radio, Chapter 22 – If I can manage to get Impact Zone and Sunday done before Tuesday night, Static will be my priority after that. If I can get those other two done, I’ll be trying to get this chapter – which is the longest of the remaining three – out by the weekend.

Overcrowded Vanities, Chapter 12 – Plotted out in its entirety, but not started it yet. This will be my priority on Wednesday, as I can’t write the next chapter of Static while in class. With any luck, I’ll have it done for Wednesday or Thursday night.

Unity, Chapter 10 – Plotted! This will be my priority once I finish out with the above fics for the week. Hoping to get it out by next Sunday.

until your heart goes numb/you’re gonna carry that weight/By the Light of the Stars – World building and plotting are in full swing for these. I’m expecting to start their releases in early February. These will be on a rotating schedule, so they should stay even in terms of chapters, and each will have a different sort of focus and set of ships. I just want to get them settled more before posting them.

The only fics not on this list are Reconnection, which I plan to get to when I find the time – probably next week – and What Nature Teaches, which is going to stay on hiatus until mid-to-late Spring, I think. That way the fic will be more in time with the seasons.

And that’s all I’ve got this week! Cheers everyone, and enjoy your evenings!

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

No, I did not forget to do this! ...exactly...

I am super late again this month—buuuut I wanted to wait until I’d posted the delayed Precipice chapter, so.

Fanfic:

Precipice:

Sorry, sorry, sorry for all the delays in the last couple of updates—the last two weekends were super-busy, and then last week ended up being slammed at work and my brain just went pfft. Anyway, there will be another update this week/weekend (probably Rex and Leia), and I’ll hopefully meander back on schedule after that.

And I finally finished Commander! \o/ It was a fun arc. I’m very fond of that arc. But…yeah, it’s a long one, particularly given that very little in-story time passes. (Seventeen chapters to cover one very eventful week…)

So, yeah. Lessons is going to be a much quieter arc, something along the lines of Homecoming in terms of content/pacing. Resetting ourselves, establishing our new patterns, etc. Leia starts getting trained, Luke starts helping Mamma at work more, and bonding with Lavinia/actively being the human ray of sunshine he is. Probably Winter will turn up, too. I’m going to try and focus more on the Coruscant/Imperial Center thread this arc, particularly since Commander was so heavily about our Jedi friends…anyway, I’m guessing this will be a relatively short arc (8 or 9 chapters), and not much Drama/not very Plot-heavy. Other than Infernalis introducing himself. (He’s a lot of fun—there’s a bit I have half written where he’s all “yeah, I know Sidious is using me, but a) that’s what sentients do; we use each other and b) I’m using him too and c) I get to do ALL THIS AWESOME SHIT. So I kinda feel like it’s worth it.” Like…I don’t write unapologetic/Always Chaotic Evil/for the LULZ villains very often, but Infernalis is in that mold.)

Also! As of this Thursday, I will have officially been posting this behemoth for a whole entire year. I’m going to do a bonus fic (I’ll probably put up a prompt call post later tonight or tomorrow), and I’m hoping to commission art as well, either a full cover or one or more arc covers (for completed arc(s)). [Eventually, I probably will want ALL of the covers (i.e., main title/all planned arcs); but that’s a long range project because lol budget.]

ANYWAY if you have any specific requests for bonus fic and/or are interested in getting paid to draw pretty things/know someone who does this kind of thing and is open for commissions (since I do not know how to draw pretty things), let me know!

Distaff:

I FINALLY CONQUERED THE OPERA HOUSE \o/ ::throws confetti::

...heh.

Anyway, yeah. So, that’s moving again! Next chapter should not take nearly five months to come out, as it’s a lot less…mmmm…I’m trying to figure out how to word it. The Opera House was hard, because—look, it’s kind of dumb; Anakin is being really really dumb, we make fun of that scene for a reason, but it’s also one of if not the most important scenes in this entire arc? In terms of what Palpatine’s trying to do, I would argue that it’s even more of a key moment than the final revelation in his office some indeterminate time later, after Grievous is killed. Or, at least, it’s a bigger risk—once he gets Anakin past this point, the next one will come much easier.

Plus, you know, having to figure out an alternative Sith Legend™ to throw at her, since Plagueis doesn’t really apply. And Palps’s hand, so to speak, isn’t quite as strong as it is in canon (but, I mean, we’re talking if canon was, like, a straight flush, in Distaff he’s playing four of a kind or a full house; so still almost certainly a win). So there’s all of those factors to consider, too. (Also, it was his POV, which is…a fun headspace to get in, let me tell you, internet. Although whining about that at my ever-patient roommates did lead to me nicknaming him Skeev Palpatine which honestly I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of sooner.)

Buuuuuuut anyway. I make no promises for exactly when the next chapter will be out, but it definitely won’t take quite so long. Should be sometime this month. Fingers crossed, anyhow.

Masks:

…blaaaaaaaaaaaah. I don’t want it to die. I really don’t. On the other hand, I’ve got a whole lot of other projects ongoing, plus RL and all, plus I’m still having trouble getting into ANH!Vader’s head, so…ehhh, IDK. Essentially, I’ve decided that this is really super back-burner for the time being. Possibly I’ll do it in AU Outline form at some point, if I don’t manage a proper update, but for now, it’s on a vaguely-defined “if my brain cooperates” hiatus. I am (probably) locking canon for it as of TFA (meaning it won’t be as much of an In Spite of a Nail AU past that; and more just an…AU AU, if that makes sense?), though, because I like the plot I have. Though I reserve the right to change my mind on that after TLJ. Anyway, I’ll probably stop talking about this one (unless I use one of the spinoff versions of it as an AU Outline or something) until I actually write/post more.

Auxiliaries:

Update will be up very soon! Not a direct continuation of the last bit I posted, because I’m still working on that, but still something! (Ahsoka is involved because I love her.)

AU Outline:

…yeah, I dropped the ball on this one again. It was going to be the Mask of Zorro/California Gold Rush AU No One One Person Asked For, but I need to sit down and watch Zorro again to put that together, and I haven’t gotten around to that. Also, Ventress and her Tiny Time-Travelling Conscience were speaking to me. …well, less them and another thread of that same AU, plus a couple unrelated AUs... Anyway, I’m going to try and put something up sometime in the next couple days. It’ll probably be the continuation of the Ventress and Luke one but we shall see.

Original fic:

…yeah, I didn’t actually write any this month, lol. I’ll do better in October.

Miscellaneous Other Things:

[In a generic list format because why not]

- Epic Crossover RP OF DOOM! I’ll keep posting snippets from time to time, because it entertains me. And my RP partner and I think we’re funny/clever.

- NaNo is coming up next month! I’m probably going to do the same thing I did last year—set myself an ambitious Total Word Count goal for the month, rather than focusing on a single project. Possibly give myself a list of projects to choose from; probably set a minimum amount that must be on original work/not fanfic. More on that when we actually get close, probably.

- I’ll probably do another Open Question Night sometime halfway through the month, because those are always fun.

- …should I do something Special for Halloween? (Like I did holiday bonus fics for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day?) If I did, what would y’all want to see?

Goal Lists:

September Recap:

1. Keep up with Precipice updates.--not so much

2. Opera House.--FINALLY \o/

3. Another Auxiliaries snippet--missed

4. Work on Masks--missed

5. Another crack outline--missed

6. Update Lux and Farglass Cycle archives--someday I will actually do this

7. At least 5k on projects that are not Precipice--not quite, but I think between half-finished snippets and 3k worth of Distaff text I churned out, I got to like 4k or so?

8. At least 15k total on any/all projects--Not quite, no.

9. At least two pieces to Rainbowfic.--Nope.

10. Put some text down on something publishable.--Nope.

October Goals:

1. Keep up with Precipice updates.

2. Update Distaff.

3. Update <i>Auxiliaries.</i>

4. AU Outline--Mask of Zorro fusion and/or continuation of the Ventress one unless something New and Exciting comes up.

5. At least two pieces to RF.

6. Update the Lux and Feredar archives.

8. Write at least 15k total, at least 5k must not be Precipice

9. Write at least 10k on Precipice (bonus fic counts, meta/answered asks do not)

10. Put some text down on something publishable