#okay this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and im sick of seeing it so im releasing it to the void fjdksfjsd

[sculien]

Who put me in your way to find? And what right had you not to let me die? – Julien Baker, Favor

[combeferres-mothematics]

ANOTHER fic question hehehehe....im so interested in ur Joly sick fic actually....did he manage to diagnose himself!! Did no one believe him until he actually started showing clear symptoms and he was like "I told you so!! 🤮🤮"....and...is he gonna get better? 🥺

LKJAFSKJHLSLFHALKJFHSAGLK OKAY YOU'RE GONNA BE IN FOR A RIDE. I have not only one, but multiple (this remains to be known how many) Joly sickfics XD

Once again below a cut because... I'm scared of how many I'm going to find in my drafts- (Sickfics mayyy be my favorite thing to write)

Even the Darkest Nights will End (I shortened the title significantly here lmao) - The one I talk about the most, and thought was ALMOST done... almost 2k words ago... (Enjolras, Joly, and Grantaire are now bothering Combeferre for stickers, so idek what's happening anymore) The summery is quite old, I think I wrote it 300 words in, and with a 103 degree fever (which is how this whole fic started tbh) XD This has also been one of my pet projects since... uhh... january? so there's a LOT of lore

It starts out with him just sitting in bed trying (keyword trying) to sleep, he's already very clearly ill, He's already home tested himself for several different things, and they all came back negative, so he's very adamantly trying to convince himself that it's just a cold, nothing worse. He's banished Bossuet to a different bed in hopes that he won't get sick (He will. It's inevitable, they share EVERYTHING), and he's feeling very lonely :((

And I've noticed, at least in my experience, that anxiety about these things is SO MUCH worse when it's the middle of the night, and everyone's asleep, and you don't want to wake anyone up to talk you down from thinking it's worse than it really is. This is the really angsty part of the fic if you can't tell already XD

Plus, a little snippet, I don't think I've shared anywhere yet! (do be warned mentions of worrying about throwing up)

Enter Enjolras: He's working late, and when he sees Joly he's very worried he's getting a lecture on healthy sleep habits (I say as if I know what good sleep habits are) And then as soon as he sees that Joly's been crying he instantly launches into "Oh shit my friend is anxious time to fuss over them" mode"

He and Joly proceed to have a very nice conversation that was surprisingly theraputic to write (I may have projected just a tad), and then Enj decides he's going to get Joly a little something small to eat. at 4am. Leading to one of my favorite scenes here XD

And now we have Combeferre!! :D And Joly's feeling a bit more cheerful now that he's not alone, left to stew in his anxiety.

I forgot I wrote this, but now I'm cackling over the mental image of lost duckling Enjy

Combeferre quickly banishes Enjolras because he's hovering, and things get angsty for a minute again (NOT RELATED TO THE BANISHMENT OF ENJ)

And here's Enjolras being autistic about the way Ferre's clothes smell :)

And then everything is good again, and Joly and Enj manage to convince Ferre to give them a sticker (And then Grantaire comes in to be like "If you give me a sticker too, I won't tell any of the others you gave out stickers")

And that's where this one ends off, so far lol. Joly does in fact get better in this one :D

AND THEN WE HAVE THIS ONE :D (don't mind the title or summery, I started it after being awake for 30+ hours)

This one is nowhere near as developed as ETDNWE, but it's a Everyone Lives, No One Dies au set in canon era, about ehhhhhh, maybe 3-5 months after the barricades? I'm still researching when Cholera ended there, and I think I found that there was another, very small jump in cases around Nov. 1832 (where all of them died), but don't quote me on that, I haven't looked at those sources in a while, so I could be misremembering.

Joly ofc is very nervous when the symptoms here start, since.. Cholera. But Bossuet keeps trying to gently assure him it's going to be alright/maybe it's just anxiety

But then things are worse by morning, and Joly scares the absolute Crap out of Bossuet by refusing to tell him what he thinks he has. He KNOWS. what it is though, he's seen it enough times for there to be no mistake whatsoever.

And Bossuet proceeds to leave the house before even getting dressed (Though he does grab his hat on the way out) And heads to go to the house on Rue Plumet to find Enjolras, who ofc will know where Combeferre is, cutting down the search time significantly.

(This is indeed and Enjosette siblings au as well)

And that's about as far as I've plotted for that one. and as for if Joly will be alright... >:3 We will see. *ominous voice*

Ty for the ask!! :D I always love discussing the sickfics XD, and now I'm very workpilled for both of them, so we'll see how that goes-

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[ghostbustermelanieking]

jonmartin for 13? :)

i have absolutely no restraint and cannot write anything short im so sorry. this is a mag 102 au where martin finds out jon was kidnapped sooner. warning for discussion of this kidnapping as depicted in the episode, and the aftermath of recovering from this. also here on ao3.

13. things you said at the kitchen table

In the end, it's Melanie who tells Martin Jon's been kidnapped. Catches him in the break room, irritated and banging around the mugs, and she drops it into a sentence like it's something casual to be communicated. Oh yeah, Jon's back. Guess he's been kidnapped or something, and something sharp presses into Martin's chest, something like urgency. He's pushed his way out of his chair and halfway towards the door in a blind sort of franticness before Melanie catches him by the arm. "He's fine, you know," she says. "He looks… I mean, he doesn't look good, but he…"

"A month, " says Martin, feeling sick. "A month, he's been gone, and we… we didn't…"

"We didn't know, " Melanie says annoyedly, but there's a tiny pinprick of guilt in her voice, too. "He… he wasn't here before. You know that."

Right, Martin thinks, because you're probably the person he talked to most before he disappeared, and then he immediately feels guilty. Jon's been kidnapped, and he's… he's just… "Where is he?" he says, softer this time. (The bite's still in his voice, a little bit. He isn't sure who to be furious at, but it's hard not to be under the circumstances.) "Has… has he left?"

"Uh… no, I don't think so," says Melanie. "He… he said he was going to go lie down."

Martin knows, immediately, where he is, and he tries not to wince at it; he remembers sleeping there every night, scared out of his mind on that little cot, he doesn't know how Jon stands it. "I'm going to go check on him," he says. "I… he shouldn't… I'm going to go check."

Melanie lets go of his arm. "I think Elias knew," she says darkly. "Jon said it and he didn't even bat an eye. He knew, and he didn't tell us."

Something twists in Martin, something that he pushes aside—doesn't matter, not yet, all that matters right now is making sure Jon is all right. He nods a little, at Melanie, and then he pushes out of the break room and down towards the office. Tim is out for the day (not surprising), and Basira is reading at her desk; she doesn't look up when Martin comes through. Martin goes to the storage room where the cot is, where he knows it still is, and raps his knuckles quietly on the door frame before opening the door. 

Jon jumps, when Martin enters, in a way that instantly makes Martin shrink back with guilt. He's huddled on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he looks awful. Thinner, hair shaggier than when Martin saw him last. He looks exhausted, leaning towards the wall like he needs it to hold him up, and his arms are wrapped around himself in a protective sort of way. "... Martin?" he says, voice thin, and Martin honestly can't tell if he's happy to see him or not. 

"... Hi," Martin says, honestly not sure what to say. (What do you say in a situation like this?)  He chews at his lower lip, reaching for what to say— Are you all right doesn't seem appropriate, when Jon is so clearly not, but it's what he comes up with, his voice shaking a little when he asks it. 

Jon laughs, bitter, and uncoils his arms from around himself, relaxing a little. "Honestly? Honestly, not really, Martin. I… it's been…" He lifts a hand to press against his forehead; his sleeves fall down and Martin winces, immediately, at the red marks on his wrist, where he must've been restrained. "It's… it's, uh, really good to see you, Martin," he adds, softly. 

Martin presses a hand to his mouth, just for a minute; he's torn, he doesn't want Jon to see him upset, not when he's… "Melanie… told me," he tries. "What you… and I didn't… Jon, I'm so sorry. We had no idea, I… I swear, if we'd known, we would've…" 

Jon sits up a little straighter, something flashing in his eyes. "Hey… hey, no, Martin, it's… i-it wasn't your fault, it's all right, it's… t-there was no way to find me, and I hadn't really been… around before then, and it…" He breaks off his words, clutching a little harder at the blanket. "... Elias didn't deem it worth telling anyone," he adds, with a wry laugh. 

Martin takes a few steps closer, trying his damndest not to fall apart (at the fact that Jon looks like this, that Jon's been gone a month, that Jon is somehow trying to comfort him when he's…). "You aren't… d-did they hurt you?" he asks, uncertain who they even are. 

Jon flinches a little, looks down at his feet. "No, n-not… not really. I… not, um…" He laughs a little again, a hollow sound. "I'm just so tired. "

Martin stops, a few feet away; he thinks about touching Jon, some sign of comfort, a hand on his shoulder or—but no, that wouldn't be—he can't do that, not when Jon's just been kidnapped, it's probably the last thing he wants, to be abruptly touched. He does what he can do, instead; he says, "Jon, d-do you have anywhere… er, there's a… there's a reason you're staying here, isn't there? Wh-what about your friend you were staying with, could you go back there?"

Jon immediately, vehemently shakes his head. "I-I can't go back. Not if, n-not after… th-they came there before, they found me there, and if I go back… I-I told Georgie I'd leave. I can't bring her into this. I can't. If they came back…" 

"Okay," says Martin. "Okay, that's…" He crouches a little, feeling awkward as he does it, but he can't shake this feeling of—of looming over Jon. "Y-you can't stay here, Jon. This cot is horrible, i-it's… it's not a place for recovery, it's…"

"I'm going to find a place," Jon says softly. "I just… I need to sleep. First." 

"You shouldn't stay here, though," says Martin, "not after… you need a bed, a real bed, Jon. I…" He stops, halfway considers for a second. Starts again, because what else is he going to do? "C-come stay with me."

Jon looks up, shocked, but he doesn't immediately protest, so Martin continues: "Sleep on a real bed, recover, j-just until you're… I mean, my bed isn't great, but it's better than a cot, especially after…" He stops. He doesn't know what to say. "Just… you deserve something better than that, right now," he tries.��

Jon shakes his head, just a little. "Martin, I can't. I… i-if they came for me again, then you would…"

"I don't care," Martin says, firmer this time. (If Jon doesn't want to come back with him, fine, but he won't let that be the reason.)

"Martin, i-if anything were to happen, i-if you got caught in the crosshairs, I'd…"

"Really, Jon, I don't care. I'm not going to let them take you again, so you can put that thought out of your mind." Martin adjusts his position—it's uncomfortable, squatting like this, but making sure Jon feels safe is more important. (If it's even helping at all.) "You said you didn't want to put your friend in danger because she's out of this, right? Well—I'm in this. Pretty far into it, at this point, there's no getting out of it. So it doesn't matter. Okay?"

Jon worries at the edge of the blanket with his overlong nails. "... I… wouldn't want to impose…"

"You're not, Jon. I'm offering." Jon's still quiet. Martin shifts back into a standing position, because it really is uncomfortable, going slow; he adds, "It's the least I can do. Please."

Jon's hands are shaking. Martin can see it, now, and it's hard to watch; he's pushed a lot of fury back, just watching Jon now, still without any idea what's happened. "A—all right," Jon says quietly, finally, and his voice is thick, like he might cry. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you, Martin." And Martin feels a flood of relief at this, that Jon might be, at least, somewhat safe in his flat. 

---

They take a cab home. The Tube seems like it would be a lot. Jon really is exhausted, huddled up in an old coat despite the warm weather, leaning against the window in the back of the car. Martin shows him the bath and the bedroom, when they get home, says, "Let me know if you need anything," and leaves him alone. It feels like the right thing to do.

Martin stays in the living room. The anger begins to rise to the surface, then, coming out in bursts of nervous pacing and muttering (quietly, of course; he's had lots of practice with that, with Mum). He's furious at whoever took Jon (he isn't sure who, but he has a sneaking suspicion it's connected to the Unknowing), more furious at Elias for not telling them. He's going to say something this time, he thinks—march up there and give Elias a piece of his mind, or, or draft a furious email—and Martin has to stop there because it's all starting to sound ridiculous. He's going to say something now? He didn't say something when they found out Sasha died, when Elias told them that they were all trapped, but he's going to say something now? It sounds ridiculous, it does, and what would saying something do? Jon's back now, more or less safe, and there's nothing he can do now—no charging, triumphant rescues, nothing like that, all he can do is offer Jon his bathroom, somewhere safe to sleep. Shouting at Elias won't do a thing. 

(Martin wants to do something. He should've said something for Sasha, and he thinks he'll regret that forever, but if he couldn't then… well, he wants to have the courage to say something for Jon. But he doesn't. For some horrible reason, he can't.)

Jon sleeps for over fifteen hours, all afternoon and into the night. Martin sleeps on the couch. (He goes into the room to get the extra blanket and a change of clothes, and for a moment, he worries he'll wake Jon, but he must be quiet enough. Jon doesn't wake; he makes a strained sound in his sleep and turns over, curling in protectively on himself, but he doesn't wake up. Martin wants to go over there, kneel by the bed and hold Jon's hand, climb into bed and hold Jon and make sure he isn't hurt again. He doesn't. He doesn't have that with Jon, and now isn't the time, he can't scare Jon, make him uncomfortable, he has to leave Jon alone.) Jon's still asleep when Martin wakes hours later, tangled in his blanket on the couch, restless and on alert. He stares at the front door, tensing like he expects someone to come in (someone coming back for Jon), but nothing does. The apartment stays quiet. 

Martin gets up to make tea. It's still early, still dark outside, but he can't go back to sleep, he can't relax. He puts on the kettle and sits at the table, opens a packet of biscuits to munch on absently. Something to do. Something to do besides sit and think. 

The door creaks, abruptly, and Martin's head shoots up to see Jon, leaving the bedroom, looking dwarfed in one of Martin's rumpled jumpers. He looks at Martin with a tired sort of tentativeness and says, "Hi," softly.

"Hi, Jon," says Martin, his own voice too soft. "How… how did you sleep?"

Jon rubs at his throat, an absent sort of motion, and pads across the floor to the table. "I… well, actually. Very well. Best… best sleep I've had in a month." 

Martin's heart breaks a little, and he pretends it doesn't. Jon motions to the empty chair beside him and says,  "Do you mind if I…"

"No, no, of course not," says Martin quickly. "... D'you want some tea?"

A funny look passes over Jon's face as he sits and he says, "Yes. Yes, I… tea sounds amazing, Martin."

Martin gets up to get out another mug, to get out the milk and sugar. "I can make you something to eat, too," he says, and immediately feels horrible for not suggesting it earlier. (He doesn't want to speculate about when Jon's last eaten.) " Christ, why didn't I… I'm so sorry, Jon, you must be starving. I should've…"

"Don't, Martin, it's… I-I'm fine," says Jon. "Honestly, I… I-I can eat in a little bit, I'm not really hungry."

Martin bites his lower lip too hard and grimaces at the sudden burst of pain. "Okay," he murmurs. "Just… let me know when you're ready."

"I will," says Jon. 

There's silence for a few moments aside from Martin puttering around the tiny kitchen. It feels strangely domestic in a way that Martin isn't used to; he hasn't lived with anyone since Mum. He and Jon have shared meals before—they did it often, before Jon went on the run because they'd thought he was a murderer—and Martin's made him tea a dozen times, but it's never like… this. Quiet and natural, like they've done it a dozen times. Jon's staring down at the table, tracing a pattern cut into the top with an absent finger; he's shivering, in his chair, and Martin makes a mental note to turn on the heat. And then the kettle goes off, a sharp sound in the silent room, and Jon's jumping, jolting nearly out of his chair with huge, panicked eyes. 

"Sorry, sorry!" Martin says in a rush, reaching to yank the kettle off the eye. "Sorry—I-I forgot it was there."

"I-i-it's all right," Jon says. He's tensed against the table, his palms pressed to the top, like he's waiting for a bomb to go off, but he looks at Martin and he says, "Just a… little on edge, b-but really, it's fine."

Martin's chest aches as he fixes the tea. All of him aches, a guilt he can't really put his finger on—he didn't notice Jon was gone, he couldn't go after him, and now he can't even get to the kettle quick enough to keep from scaring Jon out of his wits. He doesn't say anything, though, besides another murmured, "Sorry," as he passes Jon the mug, and sits back down beside him. 

Jon holds onto the mug with both hands, like he expects to be pulled away, inhales a bit before taking a drink. "I've… missed your tea, Martin," he says quietly, stiltedly, like it's difficult to say. "All this time." 

Martin blinks in genuine surprise at that—all this time, and he's wondered before if Jon was just tolerating the daily cups. "You're joking," he says with disbelief. 

"I'm not," says Jon—and it's stunningly familiar, that tone of voice. He smiles a little down into the mug. "Haven't had a decent cup since February—Georgie's a coffee drinker."

"The audacity, " Martin snorts, theatrically, some small attempt to keep Jon smiling like that. 

"Yes, well—that's what I told her," says Jon, still with that halfway smile. He looks up at Martin abruptly, and something shifts on his face, almost—almost guilt of his own, which makes no sense. He says, "Martin, I've… I've taken your bed, haven't I? You… you should've said something."

"No, I shouldn't have, and I won't," says Martin firmly. "I didn't bring you here to sleep on the couch, Jon, for god's sake. The bed is yours."

"Sleeping on a couch won't kill me, Martin—"

"And it won't kill me either. You're not talking me out of this, Jon."

"A couch would be an improvement over that cot— anything would be. I shouldn't have…" That same look passes over Jon's face: that something resembling guilt. "I should never have made you stay there," he nearly whispers. "For months on that cot, after what you'd…"

"Jon, don't," Martin says, and he reaches out suddenly, to cover Jon's hand where it lays on the table. Jon looks up at that, as if he's startled, and Martin yanks his hand back, but he doesn't bring it too far; he leaves it there, hovering just above Jon's. " Don't ," he says. "I-it was a long time ago, and it was… I didn't mind staying there, I wasn't… you gave me a way out, and I-I appreciated that. I still do, Jon. So don't, please. Don't beat yourself up over that."

"I should've offered you better," says Jon, something like disgust in his tone. "I should've… there are so many things I should've done better."

Well—he isn't wrong, Martin thinks, but—but there's a dozen things they both should've done better, and now isn't the time to discuss them all, so Martin just says, "Don't," again. "Please. You don't have to… it's okay. It is. " And after a moment, Jon nods. He hasn't moved his hand away, but Martin feels odd, leaving his hovering there, so he just pulls it back.

They drink tea in silence for a few minutes. It's a pleasant silence, one that, under different circumstances, Martin might allow himself to hope for every day. It's several long moments before Jon speaks again, his voice rasping and small—he says, "It was the Circus. That took me. T-the one we've been looking for, planning the ritual. They'd… they planned it, they were watching me and they came."

Martin tries not to flinch, tries to ignore what feels like his insides grinding themselves together. Jon keeps talking after a moment; he says, "They… they wanted my skin. For the ritual. They… kept me for that, so they could… skin me. They were waiting for that."

Martin can't stop the words this time, when they push their way out; he says, "Oh, Christ, " like air being pushed out of him, like a sucker punch. He says, "Jon…" and his voice breaks, too, and something inside of him rips when Jon looks back at him, when he looks as if he might cry. 

"Um, Martin," he says, and he inclines his head tentatively towards Martin. "Do you mind… um, if I…"

His arms go out to the side a bit, and it's then that Martin realizes what Jon's asking for. He nods, immediately, and opens his arms, and Jon leans forward and into him so quickly that Martin wonders if he was waiting. 

Martin folds his arms around Jon gently, tentatively (one hand cupping the back of his head); he wants to cling, wants to hold Jon tight enough that nothing else would be able to take him, but he's afraid to hold on too tight. Jon, though, clings hard, his grip tight, his fingers digging desperately into the back of Martin's shirt. So Martin tightens his grip, and leans his head against Jon's, and lets Jon expel shaky breaths into his shoulder. He rubs tiny circles into Jon's back, murmurs, It's okay, it's okay now, and desperately wills it to be true. 

Minutes or hours later—it is impossible to be sure—Jon whispers, "Thank you," into Martin's shirt. He whispers it with a sort of finalty, but he makes no move to pull back. So Martin keeps holding him. 

"Jon… I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'm so sorry. I… i-if I'd known. I swear, I would've come for you if I'd known." 

Jon takes another shuddering breath and looks up at him. His eyes are wet. There's something in his expression Martin can't quite place… reassurance, maybe. Or trust. "I know," he says. "Martin, I-I know you would've. I know." 

They sit there for a while longer, just like that, holding onto each other at Martin's kitchen table. 

[m0onbean]

tutoring & loving

genre: enemies to lovers!AU, tutor!reader, popular boy!eunwoo, high school!AU, JEALOUSYYYYYYYY, flooooooof!!! angst but it’s okay because angst is wonderful, basically most of my favorite AU’s combined in one

warnings: jealous eunwoo and this AU is much more in depth than the others ones

words: 2.8k 

note: this is an old draft that has been sitting in my notes so i thought i would post!! enjoy and I HOPE  EUNWOO IS CASTED FOR TRUE BEAUTY!!!

as one of the top students in class, all of your teachers absolutely ADORE YOU

school is pretty smooth for you: you study well, pass tests, socialize with friends....... except for one little threat that makes your life so much more difficult... 

Cha Eunwoo.

not only is he one of the most popular boys in your grade, but unfortunately he’s also your seat partner for English and he’s the most annoying person you have ever met

you haven’t given him a reason to disrespect you!! ... okay maybe sometimes when you see him and his group of friends being loud in the hallways you shoot an icy glare....... ok and MAYBE you roll your eyes everytime he says smth dumb in the middle of class

but other than that??? completely innocent you are. but this man doesn’t seem to agree, as he seems to have made his life goal to ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF YOU. 

foe ex. you would be peacefully paying attention in class when suddenly you feel something kick your foot 

and when you look up, you see eunwoo “paying attention” to the board and feigning innocence

but you immediately know that he’s just trying to aggravate you because when has this man ever actually paid attention in class??

so you go back to listening when you feel ANOTHER kick and you’re like BITCHoh hell no so you kick him back bc we’re not all perfect human beings let’s be honest

and now y’all are kicking each other back and forth, and everyone can hear the desks shuffling underneath them

he also makes snarky marks constantly when you literally just breathed???

like you would sit down at your seat and he’d be like “Congrats, you’ve somehow managed to choose the ugliest outfit in the world to wear today”

and you respond, “It’s about time i have a turn, you’re wearing the ugliest outfit everyday” and then you just glare at each other until the teacher tells you two to snap out of it

on some days eunwoo will just flat out point out one of your flaws like if your hair is messy or if there’s a stain on your shirt

so one day your English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like Oh he’s just gonna offer me extra credit ... but instead of doing that he asks right off the bat, “i have another student that needs tutoring, are you willing to take one more?”

for the past month, you’ve already been tutoring a few students your teacher recommends to you. it’s easy money, especially since you’re saving up for college 

only this time, you can tell he’s desperate because he’s like “Please (y/n) he’s failing in English and misbehaving in class you’re my only hope!!”

and now you’re like Hawld on..... Why Is He Being So Desperate About This.... like you’re cool with tutoring..... what makes this-

the realization strikes across your face. 

who in this school would you would hate teaching??? who is failing in English??? WHO IS THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE. look to: c. e. w.

 “ofdjoaaja i’ll give you gummy bears or something” he pleads. and honestly, if you were not so broke, you would’ve spat on his feet and walked out the door. but you need the cash, and you sure do like gummy bears.......

you gracefully relinquish, and your teacher gives you a proud smile. he then goes on to tell you that his mom requested extra help smh why couldn’t she have just hired a tutor i hate rich people.. anyways so yeah pls Help me

so the next day @ school you approach your seat and you see eunwoo sitting on his desk, talking to his friends until he notices you.. and he’s about to open his mouth to probs criticize your untied shoelaces but you interrupt him and are like:

“eunwoo i’m privately tutoring you starting today. Meet at the library after school.”

and he’s just sitting there, jaw dropping to the floor and you’re like :) He’s finally quiet for once... 

but little did you know that during class he’d be pestering you with complaints like:“why you??? is there anyone else that can do it???” “i don’t need tutoring.. i’m getting consistent D’s... not a singular F and it ain’t much but it’s honest work” 

at a certain point, you get so sick of his complaints and go like “your mom asked for you to be tutored!!! OK i didn’t just ask to tutor you, you dumbfuck.”

and once you mention his mom he just kinda shuts up... and stares at his desk for the rest of the period

ou notice this and recall the teacher telling you that eunwoo’s mom is a tiger mom... you keep this in mind because now you know that making his mom proud might be his motivation

after school, you wait at the library for him inside.. but a couple minutes pass and you’re like ? did he forget ? .  

and eventually an hour passes and you’re like nope he’s definitely ditching

and honestly,,, you feel a little betrayed and a little hurt ... but just when you’re about to leave you see him panting and making his way to your table nd you’re like ???????and eunwoo’s like “im so sorry i forgot...”

and you’re like oh? so you didn’t ditch? 

and he’s like No!! i just ... forgot. 

and you’re like well you little shit don’t forget next time i’ve been sitting here for an hour..but then he reaches something from his pocket and hands it to you and it’s a triangle sushi (it’s super crumbled too...) 

and he’s like “i got this to make it up” and you’re like flustered and just weirdly but pleasantly surprised he feels this bad about almost flaking

but you catch yourself slipping and go back to your annoyed tone: “uh-What the fuck are you on?? I-Wh-I’m not hungry. T-thanks tho.”

the first tutoring session is... awful to say the least. 

he couldn’t pay attention well and continuously complained and even tried to go off topic

like you’d be asking him what foreshadowing meant and then he’d be like “so.. where’s your family from (y/n)?” 33r*#$&(@$

after an hour of no progress you get frustrated and shut the textbook, about to call it a day

but just when you stand up eunwoo grabs your wrist 

and he’s like “where do you think you’re going?” you scoff and reply with “why do you care? it’s not like you want to be tutored right? well i don’t want to tutor anymore”

when you try to budge, you feel his hand still firmly gripping onto your wrist and you’re like “let go of me” until you realize he’s staring at you dead in the eyes

and in a quiet voice he sadly says “please don’t give up on me... i’m trying my best.” 

it looks like he’s about to tear up and that’s when you realize that you need to be patient for him... and need to help him because he’s trying to make his mom proud. 

when you sit down again, he gets a bit startled that you gave in so easily but regardless, a relieved smile spreads across his face. 

instead of going back to teaching, you conclude that you two should “break the ice” first so tutoring wouldn’t be you two just glaring at eachother

“breaking the ice” turns into a two hour conversation about random things or anything that comes into mind. 

eunwoo is really good at conversing and he’s good at filling in the awkward pauses and bringing up new topics!!

next thing you know the librarian is trying to shoo you guys outside since the library already closed fodjsoakal

when you get back home, there’s a stupid smile on your face and you’re like SHIT why am i smiling? why can’t i stop smiling???? get yourself together youRe just helping him you still think he’s annoying!!! ..but he has a breathtaking laugh... NO he’s still that annoying guy i hate

the rest of the tutoring sessions aren’t as bad at you thought.. eunwoo is actually pretty smart he just has the attention span of a toddler honestly.

you could be trying to read him an excerpt from The Great Gatsby and when it’s his turn to read.. it’s absolutely silent and when you look up like ??? 

you see him staring at you and you’re like “eunwoo.. it’s ur turn” and he’d be snapped out of his trance and be like OH! and ask you where you left off

and inside you’d be like.. was he.. staring at me?? (he actually was. you just looked so pretty reading out loud with such emotion)

after a couple of more classes with him, he starts immensely improving in class. he doesn’t really bother you anymore, but he stills throws some playful remarks at times. 

tutoring sessions seem to be effective, and you learn that he actually has a really.. really great personality

one day, you’re approaching your seat in English and are about to roast eunwoo as your daily routine when you almost bump into somebody

but thank god you have great reflexes so you managed to stop yourself... and when you look up you see a handsome face and you’re like. Oh.and he’s like smiling sheepishly and is like “sorry! i’m clumsy hehe” and you’re like Oh.. he’s cute

you smile back and insist it’s fine.. and now you’re both still standing there smiling at eachother because he’s like eye candy

he manages to introduce himself as Moonbin and you’re like I’m (y/n)!! and then his face transforms into recognition and he’s like “oh! you’re eunwoo’s tutor aren’t you?” 

and you’re like “Oh?? yeah how’d you know?”and he’s like “Ah.. i’m good friends with him. i heard your tutoring sessions are really helpful though. you’re super smart”

and on the outside you’re like :3 m-Me????!??! <3

what you actually say: ah, thank you. 

then he’s like “do you mind if you tutor me too?? i’m kind of struggling in English as well” and you’re like “oh sure!” it’s raining money girl

the bell starts ringing and he waves goodbye 

 you go to your seat with a wide smile, and when you sit down, you don’t notice that eunwoo is glaring at you 

so when you look at him with a smile on your face, he gets even more glary. 

you quickly wipe the smile off and are like “oh it’s you.”

but instead of insulting you back he’s like “why were you talking to Moobin?” and youre ???? “why CAN’T i talk to Moonbin? he was asking me to tutor him.”

when he hears that, he clenches his fists under the desk and is like.. “did you accept his offer?”

and you’re confusedly like “yes.. why would i reject him?”

not one to handle complicated feelings well, eunwoo just stands up, his chair loudly screeching against the floor. 

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Moonbin to watch you read lines from poetry so dramatically, smile whenever he makes a joke, text him reminders to study before he goes to sleep. 

but when you’re looking at him with such bewilderment in your beautiful eyes, your facial features frozen as you wait for his next move, he feels disgusting for having these feelings towards you. you’d probably be happier with Moonbin, who doesn’t have these nasty problems you’d be burdened with.

but before you can even properly react, he’s leaving the classroom and you look around, grateful that nobody was watching. 

and you don’t know how it happens.. but your feet control themselves and now you’re running after him, not caring about class starting already

and as you’re sprinting, so many scattered thoughts run through your mind. eunwoo.. jealous? does he like you? and even though you thought you were interested in eunwoo... there’s something about eunwoo you can’t let go about.and there’s no way you’re going to lose him.

so when you finally catch up to him you grab him by the arm and turn him around so he’s facing you... you hug him tightly.

and the crawling feeling that’s been stirring in eunwoo’s stomach suddenly dissipates

and bc you know that nothing will be the same after this, why don’t you just end it off strong? so you confess

you quietly tell him that you’re new to this... relationships have always been a new territory for you. liking somebody is new for you. “please don’t run off and let go of me either... i’m trying my best, too”

and he wants to push you off of him, tell you what’s best for you, and go back to being the annoying shit he once was. but your hug feels so nice and.. well.. maybe eunwoo can be selfish once in a while.  

falling in love with eunwoo is a gradual but addictive progress. when people describe falling in love, they would describe it as fireworks... exciting but risky. you would pretty much say the same but.. it’s so much more than just that.

it’s feeling tingly and funny when he randomly holds your hand or shows affection. it’s feeling enormously upset when you’re not around him or when you see him talking to somebody attractive. it’s feeling empty when he cuddles you because you want this to last forever, but you’re scared because you know it won’t.

you tell him this as you two are nestled on his couch, blankets jumbled across and TV playing some cooking show neither of you care about

he laughs and kisses your forehead which makes you feel that stupid tingly feeling again. 

“are you confessing that you’re in love with me (y/n)?” before you can try to smack him, he says “i love you too.”and with that.. you quietly respond “i love you...” 

and it feels so refreshing voicing that out loud.

eunwoo as a boyfriend would be the most blood rushing and adrenaline pumping feeling there is. he’s filled with so much energy that it’s never not fun around him

he would sneak you into carnivals, and take you on the ferris wheel where you two would probably makeout in the passenger car scksksoao

he’d also try to win you prizes at the arcade but.. he’s just so bad at playing it and either A) you end up playing and winning him a prize or B) he bribes the arcade owner to give him the prize

lots of PDA. lotssss of them. 

sitting next to eunwoo in English is a struggle now.. he’s always distracting you from the teacher. 

like you’d be taking notes but then you’d feel his head on your shoulder and now he’s straight up cuddling you in class

eunwoo always encourages you to have more fun 

“you’re always locked up in your room, studying.”

thus, he likes to knock on your door and enter the house with your parents’ delightful approval (because your parents love him. so much.) and go in your room and shower you with kisses while telling you that it’s time to stop studying because you’ve been reading the same chapter over and over again

your texts to each other would be littered with emojis that don’t even relate to the message. like you’d text “i stopped studying. are you proud of me 💃👒🐟🥐”and he’d reply with “of course my sunshine 🍣🎧🔑”

you still tutor him but your tutor sessions are a lot more longer now since they take place at either of your houses instead of the library LMAO. 

+ after tutoring him, you two would just cuddle and raid your fridges

when you meet moonbin again, eunwoo gets a little jealous again since he thinks that moonbin has a chance of snatching you 

but after kissing him and assuring him that you’ll never be “snatched”, he feels so relieved

eunwoo relishes all of the affection you give him. and he always gives you twice as much :’)

one day the same English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like “is there something you need?”and he’s like “.... ok so tell me how y’all went from kicking eachother to cuddling together in class 🤔🤔”

and you’re like “.. BYE I THINK I HEARD SOMEBODY CALLING ME”

the doors were closed... nobody heard anything... 

when you ask eunwoo why he hated you so much in the beginning, he tells you that he was just jealous of you. jealous of how flawless you did in academics and how you’re such a bright student + your glares were “extremely unnecessary” 

he also tells you that his older brother is already a doctor and has been so successful in everything so his mom always pressures him and compares them

and you’re like weaving your fingers together while telling him “don’t compare yourself. he is him and you are you.” 

and you pause.. and say “and i love you this way. i’m proud of you”

and eunwoo just immediately breaks down right there because nobody ever tells him that.. nobody is ever proud of him

falling in love with one of your enemies was definitely one of the best things that’s ever happened to you :)

[lonelyhearteds-a]

hi . 

okay , ive literally been sitting on this for actual months now because i realize there are more important things going on in the world right now , but im at my own personal breaking point and i’ve realized that i need a space to get everything off my chest and this is as good as it gets since i can’t afford therapy so ,, here goes nothing . 

tl;dr.  tw : drugs , mentions of suicide , overall negativity

so , we’re gonna ignore january and february issues because honestly .... i don’t recognize those months as canon . anyways , i’ve been off of tumblr since the pandemic started in america in march . i lost my job , and i’ve had to use my personal time in order to keep getting something in my bank account , but i was making that + unemployment for a few weeks . everything was fine , truthfully and utterly i was making enough just off of unemployment despite the fact it took 3 weeks to even be processed . then everything hit the fan and it flew everywhere . my mom relapsed in mid-april and she relapsed hard , but me pretending it’s just her illnesses went about my business and decided to ignore it until it exploded in my face . i’m not going into too much detail about it , but with everything she’s done since april we’ve now got a really broken and fractured relationship . it’s taken me nearly fourteen years to realize the amount of sheer trauma she’s put me through ; mentally , physically and emotionally . then , we were almost evicted because she didn’t pay rent for two months - so i had to use my entire stimulus check just to catch up on rent and the mortgage payments . then , i went back to work in may just to process shipping orders . again , was fine for the most part , however i wasn’t making as much and what i had saved my mom found a way to guilt me to spend it . this went on all of may , living paycheck to paycheck . june week one came along and my mom overdosed . this was one of the worst experiences of my life ; it was re-opening week ( apparently clothing is essential during a pandemic )  , my mom was acting like she had no common sense ( destroying the house , not feeing the animals , not taking care of herself , LOSING MY CAT , locking the dogs in the car in 100 degree heat , calling me names i dont even want to repeat .. amongst other situations ), and i didn’t eat . for a week . i was sick to my stomach with stress and exhaustion , living off of literally 5 hours of sleep between friday and thursday when i finally got help from my family after begging them to help me send her to a psych ward for two weeks . she called me every single day and we’d argue every single day . when she was released , it was as if nothing’s changed . she said she was gonna change , but she hasn’t . she walks around with a rain cloud above her head and if i don’t give her money , she guilts me into doing it . so on so fourth . we argue almost everyday about something , whether it’s money or my attitude somehow making her life worse . i asked her one day if she’s ever going to be happy and she flat out told me no . there’s so much more going on with her but if i posted it all i might as well write a book . i’ve never wanted to kill myself more than i do everyday so far this month .

now , july , i’ve recognized i can’t keep living like this . my company has filed for bankruptcy and is closing more than 1200 stores and we don’t know which ones are closing and which ones are remaining opened yet , but if my store closes i have no money to fall back on until i find a new job . i have no money for groceries or pet food , and i don’t have enough to pay all of the bills . my mom over drafted one of my accounts and now i have to pay that back with my next paycheck which means i’m losing $110 automatically when i get paid next .

i’m honestly just exhausted ? like . i’m twenty-three years old and i literally have no will to live because of this woman and the shit she’s put me through . i was not planning on making it to my birthday this year and i was definitely not planning on making it to august . i don’t know . to be frank , i don’t have the energy to care about anything anymore and my anxiety keeps telling my some of my closest friends are over me when there’s no reason for me to even believe that . i’m seeing them all next year at different times and i know they’re excited to see me but i sat here the other day just questioning if that’s even real . i don’t have any friends in the town i live in ; i don’t go out and do things because of corona and if i do , my mom forces herself along . if i buy myself something i have to buy her something or it turns into an argument and an all around guilt trip . 

i’m trying so hard to save enough so i can move out , but .. it’s almost impossible at this point . and i don’t know what to do . i work full time ; there is no reason i should have to consider getting another part time job just to survive . i shouldn’t have had to to parent my parent and sacrifice so much of my life . i shouldn’t be this mentally fucked up , but here i am , once again , crying over spilled tea .

anyways , if you read all the way through , i don’t know when i’m returning to tumblr , but when i do i am still going to be moving blogs . nonetheless , i’m on d*scord ( ♡ kezrah fan club president ♡#9812 ) and i’ve been doing more rp things on there if anyone wants to talk or do things again ( im always game for a welcomed distraction , even if it takes me a minute to reply ) ; i still , for the most part , have the same muses that are listed on my page . love u all loads nd loads .

[malecftw]

Distractions

A/n: so this was an idea I’d been playing with for a while. It’d been sitting in my drafts for like a month and rn I was just feeling best friends to lovers, a slow cute fic sooooo that’s what came out lol tadaaa. I’ve never really written for David or the Vlog Squad before but let me know if you liked this, maybe I’ll write more in the future. Hope you like it :)

Word count: 1814

Warnings: Idk if Jeff being rejected counts as a warning but here we are, I mentioned the word vagina and idk why but in the context it seemed weird but also okay so yh lmfao y am i acting like im 12

Masterlist.

The LA air was soft and warm, making a strand of hair fall out of your loose bun and tickle your cheek. LA seemed quiet at this time of day, the sun was beginning to set, golden hour was upon you. Lana Del Rey was playing on the background, her deep, soft voice flowing out into the crisp summer air through the open windows. The smell of food made it’s way into your nose, your stomach beginning to rumble at the thought of dinner. Heath, Scott, and Jeff were having a beer at the barbecue whilst Jason was grilling the various types of meat. Kristen, Mariah, Carly, Erin, and Corinna were setting out white plastic chairs in a circle on the grass. Rosé was being spilled, laughs were had and a carefree feeling overtook you.

You still couldn’t believe this was your life. You were living in one of the most famous, loved places on earth surrounded by good friends who were always looking out for you.  Your daydream was cut short when you got nudged in the side. Your head turned around to see Zane standing next to you, leaning on the glass just like you were. “What’s up?” “Not much.” He nodded and directed his eyes to the skyline of LA. “So when are you going to tell him?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of the beautiful view before you. “Probably never.” Your nails clicked slightly against your plastic cup, preferring a soft drink before having a glass of wine with dinner. “Why are you so hesitant. You’re perfect for each other.” You shrugged, being uncharacteristically comfortable with the topic around Zane. “I don’t know. I’ve been flirting with Jeff. I’m just going to look like a slut if I fess up now.” He clicked his tongue at your answer. “Please y/n. You were never in a committed relationship with Jeff. Hell, you never even kissed. He’ll get over it. And we know you, none of us would ever put your name and the word slut in the same sentence.”

A sigh escaped your mouth yet you didn’t have a chance to reply when Heath called out to Zane. He quickly squeezed your arm in comfort before heading over to the boys near the barbecue. You pushed yourself off of the glass and made your way inside. Enough with the overthinking, it was time to make yourself useful. “Nat, can I help?” Natalie looked up at you, pausing mixing the dressing and the salad for a second. “Sure y/n. Could you bring this over to the yard, just put it on the table.” She said with a smile and pushed the salad bowl into your hands. You just nodded and did what she asked. The notification sound of your phone distracted you as you set the bowl on the table and while you quickly replied you felt an arm being swung over your shoulder. “What’s up y/n? Why so quiet?” Jeff said, a silly smile on his face as his eyes screened over your expression. “Not now Jeff.” You shrugged off his arm and started walking away when he grabbed your arm, concerned for your obvious distress. “Hey what’s wrong?”

“Is everything okay here guys?” David walked up, noticing your tense figure and Jeff’s already apologetic one. He didn’t even know what was wrong but was already stressed thinking he was the cause. You looked back and forth between the two guys. Life was playing another trick on you and frankly, you were sick of it. Why couldn’t you just go for the obvious choice? You had a beautiful man right in front of you willing to take things to the next level but no. Instead, you had to fall for the one dude that wouldn’t notice an eager vagina if it slapped him across the face. 

As you were having this inner dialogue with yourself the two guys still looked at you, confused by your off behavior. “Nothing is okay David, just leave me alone.” You headed for the living room and David took your words like a man. “What the fuck did I do?” He shouted as he ran after you. “Nothing. That’s the problem.”

“Wait what? Y/n what the fuck?” Of course, he didn’t get it. You hadn’t made a move since you were too busy distracting yourself with Jeff. “I just... Just... Just drop it okay. It’s about me, myself and I don’t worry about it.” “Sure doesn’t sound like it.” You rolled your eyes but were secretly grateful for everyone staying outside to give you some privacy. You even notice Nat sneak out of the kitchen, feeling the uncomfortable switch in the room when you walked in.

“Y/n. Just talk to me. Remember that time when you accidentally spilled glue in my hair and we had to shave my head? Didn’t snitch on you then. I looked like a bald man child. I still didn’t snitch. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a look.” David said in a cute attempt to make you feel better. “Of course you didn’t snitch. It was your own fault. Who the hell decided to smack my hands with their head while I was holding an opened bottle of kids glue.” “I’m sorry I forgot to turn on my spidey sense, else I would’ve known you were standing right behind me before I stood up.” “It’s not my fault you were shorter than me.” David placed his hands over his heart, jokingly looking offended. “Ouch.” He teasingly took a couple of steps closer to you causing him to tower over you. “Not anymore though. Now you’re tiny.” You look up at him, arms crossed, confused and annoyed by your feelings for the big man child in front of you. “Now, tiny, are you actually gonna tell me what’s up or am I going to have to keep you hostage until you do?

A pressed sigh leaves your lips. Now or never. His expression turns more serious when he sees your big eyes gloss over. “Hey whatever it is, we can work it out. You and me.” “I’m not so sure about that.” “Well I am.” “I just don’t want to mess things up between us. You’re my best friend.” David immediately knew where this was going and a wide smile formed on his lips. “And?” He said teasingly, eager for the moment in which you’d fess up the same thing he’d been feeling for a while now. “Ugh David you’re a pain.” You say as you softly poke his stomach with your index fingers. “But am I going to be your pain?” His voice has turned hoarse, excited yet on edge. He never dreamed of going there with you. He never had those feelings for you. Until one day, he started seeing you in a different light. He couldn’t pinpoint one moment, it just slowly happened. At first he’d thought it was a silly random idea his mind for some reason made up, but he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time. Then he started getting used to the idea of you two together. It grew on him. Suddenly it didn’t seem weird, it didn’t seem awkward. It just seemed right. But then you’d started flirting with Jeff and David knew he had no chance.

Until now.

You swallowed loudly, your hands pausing, staying put on his sides. “If you want to be.” He nodded slightly, it was the only answer he needed before leaning in. He paused, needing your permission. He needed to know this was it. That this was something you both chose. You slightly pressed your fingers into the clothed skin of his sides, allowing him to connect your lips. It’s wasn’t earth-shattering, it wasn’t filled with sparks and fireworks. It was sweet, soft and gentle. It was what you both wanted. Needed. It wasn’t filled with sexual desire or incredible passion. It was the confirmation you’d both been waiting for. You’d found your person. Ironically enough, he’d been there all along. Love was a big word, you’d known you loved David for as long as you could remember. But back then, you loved him as your best friend.

You both pulled away smiling like idiots. You could see the love and happiness on his face, but he also looked pensive. “So what about Jeff?” You nodded. Of course, it looked really bad. “I like Jeff. I thought I could learn to love him. I needed to learn to love him. I was still waiting for the click in my brain, but it never happened which is why I never took it to the next level. It wouldn’t have been fair to him. He deserves better than a girl whose heart isn’t really in it.”

David’s eyes moved from you to something behind you so you turned around. Of course, like in any other predictable movie or show, Jeff was stood right there, leaning against the window frame. Your mouth fell open, You wouldn’t blame him if he was angry even if he didn’t seem that way right now. “Don’t worry about it y/n. It’s okay.” His thick New York accent filled the room. In a few big steps, he was stood right in front of you, looking to David quickly before grinning. His arms wrapped around your neck and kept you in a playful headlock, messing up your hair as he laughed. “You respected me enough to not go there with me. I appreciate that. At least now I still get to tease you and prank you. David’s lost those privileges.” Relief washed over you. This was the most drama-free ending to this situation you never thought you’d get. 

David put his hands in the air, looking happy and relieved as well that things went as smooth as they did cause let’s face it,... They rarely do. “Hey, as long as I get to film it that’s cool.” He said laughing and you smacked his chest. Jeff let go of you and shot you and David a smile before joining the others in the backyard. David sighed as he took you in his arms, looking down at you before bringing both of your attention to your intertwined fingers. “You ready baby?” He asked, voice high and excited to show off what had been his for the longest time but never really realized until now. You nodded and slowly made your way into the backyard. Jeff probably already told everyone since not a single soul seemed to question what had happened.  “Yes, baby girl you finally did it!” Zane shouted, holding up his beer and everyone cheered.

The smiles on each one of their faces only made it more clear to you.

This had never been a matter of if. 

This had been a matter of when.

[picturetoburnnn]

Like To Be You - Gang AU (ch. 1) | Ashton Irwin x Reader

word count - 2.7k

warning - mentions of blood and death. slight swearing. gang AU

taglist -  @songforhema @asht0ns-world @lukesflaredpants @sunflowerxcal @star-gazing-calum@cxddlyash @emomack @merryblueberry02 @kinglyhood @caswinchester2000 @babe-babylon​ @irwinkitten @burn-crash-im-ash dm me to be added 

author note - this has been sitting in my drafts for about three months now and i finally got on a writing kick on friday and stayed up till two last night finishing this. hope y’all love it

It had been a long day. Y/N took two shifts at the hospital, covering for her friend when she needed a sick day. Then, after what was supposed to be a lovely evening to herself, her brother’s girlfriend broke up with him, and he required her support.

After everything was all said and done, Y/N didn’t get home until close to one that night. She dropped her bag at the door, flinging her shoes off her feet and sluggishly making her way upstairs. Not even bothering to change out of her work clothes, Y/N dropped onto her bed, legs hanging off the side. She was out before she even hit the mattress, ready for a long night’s sleep.

Or at least, it was supposed to be. She woke at three in the morning to a growling stomach. Y/N groaned, finally acknowledging her growing hunger.

“Fine,” she sighed heavily to herself, standing stiffly and stretching. “Food it is.”

What she didn’t expect as she walked down the stairs was to see a dark shape sitting on the floor in her kitchen. Beneath her, stair creaked as she froze. The figure froze, turning around to look at her.

He was dressed in all black, eating Nutella from the jar with a teaspoon. Y/N didn’t buy Nutella, but that was definitely her spoon. His eyes widened as he met hers, standing in a flash. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the dark trail of what might be blood on the side of his face when he snatched off his black beanie.

“I can explain,” the man rushed out, holding out both hands apprehensively, still clutching the Nutella.

Y/N raised a brow.

“...no I can’t.”

“Who are you?” Y/N rushed down the remaining stairs, rushing for her purse and the pepper spray it held.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool. Don’t freak out,” he pleaded.

“There’s a stranger in my house, in the ungodly hours of the morning, eating out of a jar that isn’t mine. I think I’m justified,” Y/N said as she pulled out the spray, clutching it in her hand.

“Look, I just need a place to crash, okay? I got nowhere to go, I’m unarmed, and would rather not sleep on the street.”

“Are you kidding me? Get the hell out! I don’t know you, and you just show up on my kitchen floor in the middle of the night? I think the fuck not!”

He sighed. “Listen.” He pulled his shirt collar down far enough to let Y/N see the snake tattoo adorning his chest. “I’m one of the Cobras. Let me stay here for one night, and I can guarantee you protection and compensation. Just one night.”

The Cobras were the most notorious gang in the city. They were known for being brutal to targets, but never involving or attacking innocents. Cobras traded laundered money, drugs, guns; anything and everything Y/N tried her best to avoid. But they made the big bucks, which meant whatever compensation he was offering had to be good. And that money certainly wouldn't hurt to be in her bank account.

She looked at him one final time, his red hair shining in the moonlight.

“One night only,” she muttered. “But you've gotta let me clean up your head. I don't care who you are, I will not have bloodstains on my sofa.”

“Deal.” The sigh that left his lips was full of relief. “I'm Ashton.” He held his hand out in a shake.

Y/N eyed it carefully, not making a move. “Cool.”

He smirked. “That's the part where you tell me your name.”

“No, this is the part where you get your ass in my bathroom so I can get the first aid for your head injury.”

His expression changed from one of amusement to shock in no time. “Yes ma'am,” he mumbled under his breath.

He passed her, carefully avoiding bumping into her shoulder. Her eyes followed him as he wandered down the hall, his mind reeling as he tried to decide which door led to the half-bath.

“Second one on the left,” she gave in. “First aid kit's under the sink. I'll be right there, don't try to take care of it yourself.”

He looked back at her with a sheepish smile before ducking through the doorway. Y/N's hands threaded through her hair, tugging harshly and she questioned her own judgement. Cobras were ruthless when they needed to be, and she was letting one sleep on her couch.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Clean off the blood, then talk to him, she told herself. Walking into the bathroom, Y/N didn't spare a glance at the man sitting on the toilet lid as she opened the kit on the countertop.

"Are you bleeding anywhere other than your head?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"My side," he answered lamely. "Although I think it's clotted by now."

"Doesn't matter, I still need to clean it." She turned, finally facing him. "Take off your shirt."

He gave her a cocky smirk, but one look from her had him looking back to the ground. Silently, he removed the fabric, revealing a violent looking gash in his side. Y/N couldn't help but stare.

"You sure you can stitch me up?" His question sounded cocky, but she could hear the faintest hint of worry.

"I'm a nurse, this is not anything new to me," she answered shortly, turning back to the kit.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Gotcha."

The pair sat in silence as Y/N worked on cleaning the area. Ashton winced as she accidentally dragged the rag against the open wound. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"'S fine," he hissed.

“What caused a gash this deep?”

Ashton bristled, not saying a word.

“If you want me to treat this properly so it doesn’t get infected, I need you to tell me what it is.” She really didn’t need that information, but morbid curiosity always got the best of her. Besides, she was letting him stay in her house; she deserved to know at least a little something about him.

He stayed quiet. Y/N sighed, ready to resign herself to silence, when--

“A fireplace poker,” he mumbled.

Where the fuck in their city was there someone pretentious enough to have a fire iron?

“Then it needs to be severely sterilized and watched carefully,” Y/N said, as if that wasn’t already part of her plan.

The boy hissed as she cleaned the gash with antiseptics, but was silent as his side was stitched together.

Tying off the final stitch, Y/N cut the suture cord. “There. All good. Let me see your head.”

Twenty minutes later, Y/N left Ashton in the bathroom to go find spare sheets and a blanket for the couch.

“I’ll drive you back to your place in the morning.” Ashton looked at her, shocked.

“You don’t have to--”

“You aren’t from around here, the Cobra territory is across the city. With your side, you wouldn’t make it there before sundown, and it’d be a very bad idea to sleep on the streets. I’ll take you to the Cobra side of town, and from there you can find your way.”

She made a compelling argument, one that Ashton couldn’t really fight against.

He didn’t reply, and it wasn’t until Y/N was halfway up the stairs that she heard him mumble “Thank you. For not calling the cops, fixing me up, and giving me somewhere to sleep and all.”

She stopped, hand on the banister, before continuing up to her bedroom. “You’re welcome.”

~~~

The next morning was odd. Y/N woke around noon, quite exhausted. She didn’t think about the guy downstairs until she saw him sitting on her couch, reading a newspaper she didn’t know she had.

“Good morning,” she said as she came down the steps, clad in an old hoodie and sleep shorts.

Ashton jumped in his seat, setting down the paper.

Y/N smirked, snickering to herself. She made her way into the kitchen, starting up her coffee maker and grabbing a granola bar from the cabinet. “Let me get my coffee and then we can head out.”

Ashton swallowed thickly. “Thank you, again.”

Y/N smiled smally at him. “You were hurt.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a lot nicer in the mornings.”

“I’m no longer hungry and sleep deprived.” She shrugged and he chuckled.

Y/N retreated back up the stairs to change into something a little more appropriate. When she returned, the coffee was done, and Ashton was back to the newspaper.

“Something interesting in that paper?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m apparently dead,” he deadpanned, showing her the article.

                                           Cobra Member Presumed Dead

A young gang member was reportedly wounded during a break-in in the East Hill sector of town. Outside of the gang’s territory, the homeowner Alex Kei told reporter Eric Townes that a red-haired young man had been rifling through his possessions. Kei claims the gang member attacked him once he realized he was being watched. Kei grabbed the nearest thing to him, his fire iron, to defend himself. Mr. Kei reported the iron struck the attacker’s side, gouging deep. The attacker, holding his wound, fled the house.  If David Kei is correct about the severity of the wound, the attacker may well be deceased by now without medical attention. The attack occurred April 11th, just two days ago.

“That’s not what happened,” Ashton huffed when Y/N looked up with wide eyes. “Kei has always had it out for us. I was only--”

“You don’t have to explain to me,” Y/N soothed. “Let’s just get you home.”

~~~

The car ride was silent for the most part, save for the occasional “turn left here,” or “keep going straight to the next light” once they were downtown.

“You can drop me off here,” he muttered after they passed the train tracks that made the Cobra border.

Y/N looked at him incredulously. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around town with fresh stitches?”

He returned her wide-eyed look.

“Point me to your safe-house, and that’s where you can get out.”

The redhead hesitated. “Make a right at the next light.”

Ashton guided her to an old warehouse. “I still don’t know your name,” he tried to laugh through a wince as he unbuckled the seatbelt she insisted he wear.

“Y/N,” she said lowly as she got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side.

She helped him climb out, his voice quiet as he said, “Y/N. That’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” she joked as she knocked on the side door. “Got it for my birthday.���

The door opened, revealing a blonde-haired man even younger than Y/N was. “For the last time,” he sighed without looking at them. “This is not a sanctuary. Go find somewhere else to peddle for money.”

“Aw damn, even me?” Ashton’s smile was huge.

The boy’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. “Ash?” he breathed.

“In the flesh,” he beamed. “Didja miss me?”

But Ashton's name was the only thing Luke could say. The younger boy held his friends face in his hands, tears collecting in his eyes. "I thought we lost you."

"Harder than that to lose me," the redhead quipped before pulling him in for a tight hug.

The two held each other for several minutes, simply reveling in one another's company for the first time in several weeks. Y/N watched with a soft smile on her lips. It was sweet to see this boy who had been so tough around her appear so soft with his friend.

Ashton met Y/N's eyes, as if suddenly remembering she was there. He broke away, albeit reluctantly, and held his hand out between the stranger boy and Y/N.

"Luke, this is Y/N. She let me stay at her place recently and patched me up, made me all pretty again. Y/N, this is Luke. He's… well he's the head of this whole operation, I suppose."

Y/N smiled, holding her hand out for Luke to shake. "Hi."

Luke looked at her hand, then at her. He made no move to grab her hand, instead pulling her into a hug as well. "Thank you, for bringing him home," he whispered in her ear, voice thick with emotion.

As they broke apart, Ashton demanded Luke's attention. "I assume absolutely nothing has been done in the past two weeks, since you've all been grieving and are incapable of doing anything without me." He winked, and Y/N wasn't sure if it was directed at her or Luke.

"We've been making Kei's life a living hell, but other than that… we were a little busy trying to find you."

"Well." Ashton held out his arm to Y/N. "Let's say hello to everyone, shall we?"

They walked through the door as Luke held it open, and Y/N was surprised by what she saw. She didn't know what she expected from the headquarters of the city's biggest gang, but it certainly wasn't this.

In the center of the room was a pool table, surrounded by four men extremely focused on the game. In the corner was a small shelf of books with two small chairs-- a makeshift reading book. It looked like a home more than a base of operations, and Y/N loved it.

"I've been gone for two weeks, and there is a serious lack of crying in this room." Ashton's loud voice rang out over every quiet conversation. The room grew silent, and everyone stared at the redhead in front of Y/N.

"Ashton? Oh my God is that really you?" A bleached blond man shouldered his way to the front of the room, leather jacket heaving up and down with his rapid breathing. The tan man let out a shaky laugh before running to Ashton and enveloping him in a hug even tighter than Luke's. Before too long, everyone had crowded around the pair, all wanting to see their missing friend with their own eyes.

Y/N watched the scene unfold in front of her with a smile, until she felt someone tug at her elbow. Luke pulled her away to the side, far enough that they could have a private conversation but still see the group.

"How bad was he?"

"I put stitches in his side, so he needs to go easy. No running or stretching or anything that could tear that. I don't know how long he was hurt before he got to me, but by some miracle it didn't look infected."

Luke's following sigh sounded heavy with relief. "You may very well have saved his life. We owe you. I owe you. Anything you want, tell me."

"Oh, it was really nothing," Y/N stammered. "You don't owe me anything."

“Listen,” Luke huffed. “That boy you brought with you--” he pointed to where Ashton was, hugging all his friends like he hadn’t seen them in months “--he’s like my brother, and I haven’t seen him in over two weeks. We thought he died, but you took care of him, and didn’t let him end up on the street. You’ve done us a huge service, and we are indebted to you for him. Don’t diss us by refusing.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Good. You saved his life. The Cobras will from now on be your personal backup. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you come to him, you come to me. Cool?"

Y/N nodded again.

"Y/N!" She heard Ashton's voice. He broke away from the group and jogged over to her.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?"

"I--"

"This isn't really her scene," Luke cut in. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he fixed her with a look that dared her to continue.

"Y-yeah," she breathed. "I'm not… this isn't my kind of place. I'm intruding now that my job is done."

"Oh." Ashton visibly deflated, obviously not enthused with the idea of her leaving. "Am I gonna see you again?"

“That depends. I mean, you know where I live.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking something more along the lines of getting your number.”

Y/N smirked.

PART 2 // MASTERLIST

[trenchcoatkitten]

So I’ve been reading Temperature of the Heart, and you’ve mentioned how you have the whole thing written already. Can you describe what that’s like? What’s your writing process? How long does it take for you to write everything start to finish? Do you plan it all out or just kind of wing it? How long do you sit in an idea before you start?? Sorry about all the questions, I’m just so curious >_

bro!!! are you sure i will scream about writing for days omg

first of all THANK YOU its so freaking cool that you came to ask your questions and that you like my writing, im still sort of getting used to my writing not just being garbage that i read in the dark at 2am and never share with anybody, and i am always excited to answer questions waaaah 

(THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG I APOLOGIZE IM PUTTING A READING BREAK IN CAUSE I WENT OFF BRO, IM THE WOOOOORST) 

my process is pretty weird, it’s kind of all over the place? I’m kind of a halfway planner halfway pantser. I have an idea and usually make some disjointed notes about character and the main idea, in my phone or maybe on a google doc, and then a pinterest board maybe? Something to get excited about, a visualization. I ALWAYS tell myself im going to make an outline first and then i ALWAYS just jump right into writing because I’m too excited/impatient to wait. give me words on a page. give me dialogue. 

Usually when I’m a little bit into the project, when i know that I’m not going to abandon it to the depths off where my WIPs go to die (rip like literally over 300 individual and unique works, this is NOT an exaggeration, you should see my document bank its gross) Ill say “ok fuck you sami its time to actually know where you’re going” and I’ll sit down and make the grossest outline you have EVER seen. like im talking, my outlines are littered with memes, me yelling at myself, actual stuff thats going to end up in the final project, and just general random garbage? its so gross. Ive literally only showed one of my outlines to one person ever (hi akira!) bc im super self conscious of them and hate the way that i write them. making an outline usually sucks up an entire day of writing. they’re pages and pages because some parts will be INCREDIBLY specific and other parts will be so vague you dont even know

From there, when im done with my garbage outline, (after going back through what I’ve written and fixing the shit that was just me going off like a psycho) I usually start writing in earnest. I’ll highlight the parts of the outline that I’ve done and I’ll go back and check it often to make sure im following through on my plans and the character arcs and such, making sure that everything ties in and such. This section is me like. every day getting home from work or whatever and sitting down at the computer and not moving until 2am, this is the section where i forget to eat and I dont sleep enough and i forget to drink water or take my vitamins and I do word sprints with myself and have days where I write 10 thousand words in one sitting. (very not healthy and also terrible i do NOT recommend) this is the section where I’ll handwrite anything i can in the back of classes and at rehearsals because im pouring out words.

during this section I go back and edit ENDLESSLY. i cannot write something and just let it be. I go back to the section I wrote the night before, I go back to the section I just wrote, i go back to the very beginning. I generally dont have to do 1st 2nd 3rd draft this way, but it is much more time consuming as Im just writing. i dont know if i reccommend this its a MESS

THeN once i finish writing the whole thing, i sit down and reread/edit the whole thing once through. this makes sure i have good flow, the paragraphs go together well, the prose feels right to me, timelines make sense. during this time i make ENDLESS paper notes with calendars, section notes, additions, drabbles, thoughts about my own shit. i have notebooks full of just garbage. im not kidding. full notebooks. 

Once I finish that read/edit through I’m usually happy. only once something is completely finished will I consider posting. I go back too much, I add shit, I can’t let go of shit, not until it’s done. While I’m posting - I go through the chapter I’m going to post with a fine tooth comb, try to catch any tiny little mistake, add words here and there, but never change anything large if I can help it. Then i format it on Ao3 (this is literal hell, fuck the HTML editor it wants me to die) and then post it. Deciding to post a chapter to actually hitting ‘post’ usually takes me 1-4 hours, depending on the length, the difficulty of formatting, and how many goddamn links i wanna put in the chapter notes cause im the worst~ (insert jean ralphio voice) 

~~~

LISTEN im probably super extra but I’ve been writing since I was in sixth grade (thats twelve years! time is an enigma and i hate it!) and so I have a bit of practice, i have a bit of experience and while I’m not the best me that I can be, I KNOW myself, and this is just what works best for me. 

As for timing - it depends on the length of the project and how motivated I am. It took me about a month to write Royal (~50k), just a little over a month to write All Might’s All Night Shop Stop (~75k), and just about two months to write Temperature of the Heart (~115k). I try to post every few days, because as a person I hate waiting and I don’t want to do that to my readers! 

~~~

As for the ‘how long do i sit on an idea before writing it’ it really depends. Some things I will receive inspiration or a sliver of an idea and start writing it in the next ten minutes, even if I have to stop working on something I’m already working on, because that was Brain Has Decided. Sometimes I will consider an idea for like. months before actually doing it. I’ve had the idea for FBoW (the newest thing im working on oops? have i told anybody about this NO cause that will make it REAL) since before I started Royal, which was like. Last november. But I just couldnt quite do it for some reason, and it wasn’t pressing. My brain is super broken, and a lot of times I get sick over ideas. I can’t sleep or eat until I’ve written, and I will repeat phrases to myself until i can get them out of my head by writing them down. (Sometimes this is something nice or poetic - “The golden hour lights up the whole world, wiggling its fingers into every nook and cranny, lighting up two people lounging on a bench-swing, someone leaned onto porch stairs with a mug of tea, the space between those walking down a dirt road, a couple of dogs laid out on the deck.” and other times its literally “Ranch Fiddlesticks.” I’m not kidding. i have a note in my phone that says ranch fiddlesticks because I was actually going to Die if i didnt write it down.)

I do wish my brain didn’t do this - but I guess it makes some fun art, doesn’t it? 

WOW OKAY THIS WAS SO LONG im so sorry jesus christ. SOrry i will ALWAYS go off about my process and what it’s like to write. Writing is so so important to me, I LOVE it with every tiny atom of my weak, alcohol-infused, overworked heart. Despite how scary it is sometimes I am very glad to be sharing my work with the world, seeing peoples’ reactions and hearing things about my words, hearing how this little picture in my mind has gone into yours. 

okay jfc im done now im so sorry. thank you again and again and again, a thousand times over, for reading my work and enjoying the worlds that i enjoy building. It makes me feel like I’m worth it. It makes me feel like I’m doing something good. 

ily :’)

[impertfectedchoices]

I Promise - PT.3

Prompt: In a Heartbeat Ship: James X MC POV: (Point of View): James Word Count: 1,653 Tags:

@hhiggs | @destinio1 | @marryjanewaston

Artist Comment: Holaaaaa, So, pardon the, AGAIN, long break. Life’s been kicking my WHO-LE existence 😭.

This one, unintentionally, is going to be a really emotional part. This wasn’t my original plan, but it just… kind of happened. The past two months have been pretty hectic, and I’m really trying my best, But when you go through bs, it seems like you’re alone. A quote I’m gonna be using in this pretty much sums up what I’m going through. And I feel like it fits in this fic too well. So, I hope this comes across well. While writing this part, I actually cried, like, semi-broke down 😭. This hits a real personal note to me, and I hope you guys understand it. So, FAIR WARNING! I’m trying my best to not look at the situation, but how I’m going to get out of it. And your “now” won’t be your “future.” Anyone can come out of a crappy situation and thrive. You just gotta go through the storm. And all that sappy stuff, lel. 💕

PS, This, as well, was on a whim. No planning, drafting, or prethinking about plot before I write…. just gonna try to spot all the spelling errors this time 😂

le’Enjoy!

•

8:01pm

It’s feeling like elephants are sitting on my chest, since getting back to the car. I’ve never, necessarily, had problems with my breathing being under control. But sitting here; watching the car lights from main road dance across my windshield, I find that I’m constantly reminding myself to take breaths. The more I force myself, it seems, my breathing gets more shallow. I’m repeatedly feeling on the inside, each attempt to grasp at anything stable. I’ve always been able to zone out, and let my mind center on my sane points. But, as of recent, there’s nothing to feel. Numbness has replaced any form of joy to my life, leaving me a drained form of myself.

From the library, past… past MC’s house, to the highway that took me a few miles away from Hartfeld.

Familiar roads allowed for the holes to appear slowly into the wall I temporarily built up, within a 30 minute time span. I parked, went inside and felt the anxiety creep its way back in. My mind tried to put itself back together, but seemed conflicted with the storm’s leftover mess that wasn’t letting up. Every time I attempted to collect my emotions, regain what stability I believed consumed my existence, something happens to throw my progress out the window to clean, discard, and replace. One fall after the next.

My hands were still, wrapped around the wheel. Never leaves, but tightens every so often. I could feel myself tense up, veins more visible, and the white peaking through from the grip I’d had. I needed to focus on something, Anything.

There’s like… maybe over 30 cars in the parking lot.

40?

Just turned red…

Counted off 5 cars turning right at the light.

…now 6,

7?

Yea, 7.

Turned green.

White… Toyota

Um, think it’s a Camry.

The left side’s light always seems to last lo-

• knock, knock •

Now, just realizing the knocking happening next to me, I’d subconsciously whipped away any traces of emotion left on my face to greet who it’d been. To my surprise, I was greeted back with a less then stable face bundled up in her jacket. Unlocking the door, Abbie walked to the passengers side. I opened the door for her, as she climbed in, with semi-urgency. “W-wow, it’s a lot colder than I thought I’d be today.” She said with a bit of a stuttery smile. It had been getting colder since fall started creeping in, but the temperature rarely came to mind, with everything else taking up room. I tried my best to disguise any strain that I’d been feeling earlier, to save face. “Yeah, falls been catching up on us.” mentioning with a halfhearted smile. As I began fiddling with the knobs; turning switches to adjust the heat, she cleared her throat before she began breaking the silence again, “James,”

Looking back up, her face, almost immediately tensed up. Actually looking at her, you could tell she’d been worn out. She looked as if she’d been crying, and her eyes grew puffier the more seconds passed by. Abbie seemed very resilient at times. But in this moment; just like everyone else, I was stunned to see her so weakened. “Abbie. MC’s going to be oka-“ “Don’t lie,” The cracking in her voice was low, but audible enough to ring throughout my head. “James, ?Kaitlyn and Zack told me everything. I went to meet up with everyone, got inside and… and everyone was just, falling apart. Chis pulled Tyler to the side. And I’ve, I’ve never seen him look so broken. Zach couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and Kaitlyn could barely get enough words out without breaking down mid sentence…” The more she spoke, the more the reality of the situation sunk back into me. “…They told me you left, and that’s not like you. So I had to find you.” She’d been turned directly to me, eyes swelling. Looking down at my steering wheel, my hands at some point fell back into position. Feeling myself tense up, still forcing myself to control my breathing enough to speak, “I just, it was hard for me to stay in there for much lon-“

“JAMES, THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” Wide-eyed, My eyes darted back up to her. Her face had gotten a hint redder than normal, and her expression was drenched with frustration, annoyance, worry, and concern. She had been trying to do what everyone felt was impossible; break through the walls I built up when placed in these circumstances. I understood what she was trying to get accomplished, but of all moments, now wasn’t the time. “Abbie,” Attempting to bite back any amount of sternness in my voices, I continued, “… I know how your feeling right now, this isn’t easy on me either. But the last thing we need to be doing is losing it on each other.” It seemed like everything I was saying, though, was just fueling the fire. “What an excuse. So is this your way of ‘solving the situation?’ Running off and hiding in your car?” “No, but staying in there isn’t going to make it any better.” “So, what is staying locked up in here is proving? All I see is someone running away from their problems!”

I could feel every ounce of me radiate irritation. It was getting harder to swallow it. “So do you truly believe I don’t care about MC? Really?” “If you did, you’d be in that room waiting for her! You already took her for granted before, and to think I thought better of you James. I had high hopes, but she’s given you way too many chances for you to get your act together… and you just SIT HERE! You may have had a lot on you plate, but she’s literally given every chance to fix her schedule to make time for you. And all she can get is a few texts, Time you give her for newspaper club meetings? You literally stand her up to work on some dumb paper when you knew she’d been sick. And no apology? Nothing?”

I’d still been staring at the steering wheel as she spoke. The more she yelled, the tighter my grip had gotten. What she didn’t understand was that this was literally killing every inch of my being inside. It felt like I was falling in this hole; ever since Vasquez passed, plummeting. Im just ready to hit the bottom, look at the distance I have to climb, and start climbing, but there isn’t a bottom. I just keep falling. It never ends. This constant torment doesn’t seem to have an end. And I just want it to be over. Everything emotion warped around in my head together; anger, fustration, sadness, guilt, irritability, brokenhearted-ness, fear, heartache, pain. It all reeked in my body, consuming me as all I could hear in my head was yelling. Abbie’s voice faded out, and all I could here was my subconscious talking: It’s your fault, you should’ve been there, you did this, where were you, she needed you, you weren’t there, your no good for her, she’s wasting her time, your taking her for granted, she deserves better, let her go…

“God James, I would thought you’d learn better from everything you put her through. Even with Vasq-“

BEEEEEEEEP!

“BE QUIET!!!!!”

I slammed my fist into the wheel instinctively. I needed the voices to stop, the agony to stop, I just needed to be able to hear thoughts that were my own. She jumped, looking shocked towards me. She didn’t expect such a response from me.

“Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, it’s not true… it’s not true. I care… I care, I swear.” I’d kept repeating this to myself, extensively tight clutch on the steering wheel, hunched over it.

“I care, I swear I care about her… I love her so much, God. Please, make her okay, i swear I’ll do better I care I care I care She means the world to me she does I need her”

I kept repeating it, over and over again. I needed what I believed to overpower what was going on in my head. But I didn’t have the strength to keep up the facade. They were right, it was my fault. She’s been so stressed because of me. I didn’t deserve her, I should have been a better partner, a better friend, a better boyfriend… I didn’t notice Abbie grab me from my stance and held me. She had been the one consoling me this time around. The hold I had over my emotions just gave out. It felt as if me as a person broke, shattered for the first time, as I was left to face my emotions, instead of disguise them.

“I’m so sorry, MC. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sor-ry I’m so- I’m so-rryyyy.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Dropping my face into my hands, my heart wrenched and I dissolved in myself. Shaking, all I could do was replay what she’d told me, making my soul call out for her more;

”I’m fine James, it’s just a small cold. Nothing I… *sniff* can’t handle!”

”I’ll be okay James, I promise.”

”Geez, so mushy.”

”… but I love you too, my darling.”

•LAST •NEXT

[imawhattt]

im so sick - drafted Oct 11

there’s so many regrets that come up. Years pass, and as these memories sit with me, they don’t sit with me well. I feel ashamed that i acted, talked, felt that way. But I know that they’re all just steps towards self improvement, the path towards a better me - the person that I want to become. Who is that person? Let’s go back to the root....happiness. I guess I just want to be happy. 

Here’s the thing: September was a wild month for me. I’ve had more than my fair share of ‘things’. Mental stress, mental exhaustion....oh dear....and just realising how bad things had gotten. I’ve been running away from everything for the past year and a bit, and for good reason! It always chokes me up when I think about it. Sister’s bipolar, skin condition, hyperactive thyroid man all this just really makes me question how didn’t I do something stupid. I was too focused on the short term; too focused on the day by day. Too focused on the fun, the excitement, the escape. and I’d like to say it WAS okay, but...it’s not. It’s not who I want to be, it’s not what I want. I WANT HAPPINESS. Genuine, happiness. Not artificial, not stimulated. Does happiness = serenity? Perhaps. 

I always fall back on the school of thought that maybe, I’m just lacking the chemical ingredients for it. That it was genetic, and I guess only natural. I had a few days ago, an awakening of sorts. But now, it’s weird. I think I just need a good nights sleep, because I haven’t had more than 7 hours of sleep in one session for more than 4 days now. I can feel myself getting depressed again, and I just want to die. I need some time alone, not to think things over (because there’s been more than enough of that) but to recover mentally. 

This past month has made me so very fragile, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid of feeling the way I feel right now at this very moment, because technically I shouldn’t / don’t really need to be feeling this way. But i just want to...PUSH EVERYONE AWAY. that is, those I see the most. I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of putting up with it all. I don’t feel....the same anymore. 1 Oct was the start of the change. It’s like annoyance almost, just sick of seeing the same people, just sick of interacting the same ways every single fucking time, sick of being in a fucking cycle, sick of emotional investment for the time being. It’s the introvert in me coming back out, I feel it. Maybe it’s just part of who I am. Part of the real me. It’s not ALL me though. 

you know what always comes up when I’m typing this out? self doubt, feelings of invalidation. Or is it invalidating my own feelings? It’s hard for me to justify feeling this way knowing comparatively what’s happening around the world and to other people. I simply dont feel as if i deserve to be feeling this shit. it’s such an immature thought, one that I’d actually scoffed at when having heard it said back to me. But I feel it nonetheless, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. 

i guess always talking in such an emotionally exhaustive manner for a while takes its toll. 

[1rmono]

can I vent n kinda confess here just a good Ramble please okioki sO im 17 (in my penultimate year (year 12 in the good ol UK) of school) and so it all began when this Boy in my form class asked me to thProm and it was so lovely i want to Re Live the moment every day. we were in computing class and we sit next to eachother and he sais "hey are you going to prom" n im like "hm yea even tho idont want to" (bc i hate dresses and fuss and parties) and hes like "its okay rachel you cn go w me" {1/???}

n then my heart did this thing tht only ever happens when he talks to me cs hes so polite and he alwasys says my name like wOw thats so Intimate how could you abd i feel sick but i live it?? andd i PAnicked when he said tht like dhbj so i blurted out “NO” and the. n i kick myself so hard and apologise “bc i already arrange the o go w my friends sorry” and ye i do kinda like this boy i guess bc he likes anime too n he reccommened one piece n kuroshitsuji to me n i enjoy them and {2/??}

i just pretended not to care hahahhah a aha H so then Prom happened, i didnt say Hi to him at th prom bc HA me,,initiating a convo??then pigs can fly! and he looked so handsome when i saw him from afar in th e crowd i hate evrything and so he went to college and i stayed in my school and ive not seen him since bc were not close friends just former form classmates and anime conversationers in the computing class. i couldnt stop thinking abt him and Cue the period of crying and regret and {4/??}

and “what if id sais yes then or then or said hi to him” and i did that toxic thing of making up a fantasy world where i was more friendly to him so tht he would like me and smile to me more i actually drafted in my notes for ages a message to him that id like to send ,,, like"oh howdy long time no see yea im sorry i said no to you when you asked me to prom" trying to hint “hi shall we use Magic to turn the clock backward and go to prom tgether even if jst like fridns like you wanted” and {5?/?}

and we could be closer and shit agh i regret regret regret i actually sent the message to him i think it ws “hi sorry i didnt say hi to you at th prom” about twi months after the prom and as soon as i sent it i had to go to th bathroom because i was so close to being sikc an d my heart was doing a louis hamilton alexander mcqueen weeeeooooo and ge replied “its okay dont worry how are you” and he used th (^.^) emoction how Fkin cute and i was reminded of how polite and friendly he was {6/??}

and friendly i dont know how he does it bc i cant talk to people properly and So Yeah he saaid the words “ive missed people too” meaning,,,, he doesnt miss me and even if he ever did he doesnt now!!! and tahts it thats the end ive never seen him since aNd its been overa year? since thatDay and whenever i see him on my social media i hate everything ad i just i just {8/8} im so s sorry for spamming you like i would nt wanna read an essay on some sappy schoolgirls first crush (fck me i said it)

hi its Sappy Schoolgirl again did i mention me n this boy were also anime friends with this other girl who is now a close friend of mine,, he siad to me once we should all hang out sometime which hasnt happened yet and i wont forget that time in Computing class when we were talking abt Subway and i said id never been (since then ive been twice n thought of him) and hes like “!!no!! youve never been to subway! i will take you! this saturday!!” but that didnt happen yk he was only joking

tumblr ate your third ask but this was such a rollercoaster omg….,,,,not to be sappy but ur love for this boy is so pure u even get excited over his emoji usage omg that is so real n cute wow…..i feel so bad it didnt end the way u wanted to n i feel like maybe meeting up with him once just to hang out n tell him how u feel might be good just to get closure about the whole thing? but that’s just my point of view ofc ! i hope it turns out better for u ah this really was like reading a high school love story that needs 1 more chapter added about the happy ending :(

[monolid-monologues]

TMI meets TMO. (as in, sharing Too Much Info will Talk Me Out of heartbreak, maybe?)

#6.

And yet another week flies by..with nothing to publish. because i haven’t been writing over the week.

Actually, plenty of writing, but, very personal writing. Where it was not happening: my tinyletter drafts. Where it was: my yellow moleskin journal i lug around everywhere. And THESE DAYS I really mean everywhere every day because…………….. well………………… WELL. WELL, HERE:

Let’s start with some context.

My last Mainstage production at UC Davis before graduating was the great beautiful and miraculous The Bluest Eye. I kid you not, I felt in my BONES how much this production would affect me. I needed to be in it. I had conflicts with another show overlapping rehearsal/show times. I got cast (joy!!!!!), then dropped (NO!!!!!!!). I caused a lot of ruckus and trouble lol. I insisted I NEED TO BE A PART OF THIS. My gut was one thooooooousand percent right. I wish this kind of ensemble experience for every student theatre artist. In this show, I enjoyed the presence of the most colorful mothafking cast i’ve ever seen in a play. We understood the importance of our work and the importance of each other in this work. We threw ourselves into shared purpose. We created and held a treasured space for love and chaos. We brewed so much love it was like a drug in a league of its own; we gave and received so much energy together we were all bonafide high off each other’s presence.

This show was selected to participate in a festival and compete for national awards and recognitions. Like 1 of 30 across the country. Part of me cannot believe a theatre production from UC Davis Major University for the Sciences was invited to this robust/artsy-theatre-program-school-type-shit festival. But also, part of me knows how special what we put on was, is, will be. The life-sized puppets, the ensemble work, the story, the purpose — we shared something rare, relevant and powerful. White Theatre Be Shooketh.

As you can tell, i’m fiercly in love with this production. And the point of this context is that we are now reuniting to put this show back together and take it to Oregon for 1 week this FEBRUARY!

and i’m getting to my point now....

That spring, i told you, i knew being in this show was going to impact me beyond words. But what i could NOT have known. What i never expected. What has been haunting me for months: Falling in love with someone in this show. I couldn’t have known that someone I’d never known before this show was going to shake. me. to. my. core. In meeting this person, knowing this person, falling in love with this person, and letting go of this person, i have undergone and am still getting through a terribly overdue re-awakening of my independence.

It gets really messy okay. For me to go INTO it, i need to go into my my open relationship, my relationship with my then partner of nearing 5 years (who was set to move in with me in the end of spring, closing the gap on our LDR), and my trapezing around town with this person I just met. The short version is this: I was careless, reckless, and naive; ignorant of my partner, ignorant of my needs, and of my own spiritual well-being. At that time, with just that person by my side, i felt fucking invincible. But I was being real clumsy.

Fast forward to the end of that spring — my partner moves back in with me, i tell this person we need to just be friends now, and everything feels wrong. I’m lying in bed with my partner, crying my eyes out because i hate letting go of this person. My partner is finally back home with me and I’m crying my eyes out because the truth was i have never felt for anyone what i felt for this person, and that included my partner. This is, of course, when i realize my partner and i need to break up.

I’m dumb in love with the most awful timing — it is absolutely not the right time for me to “be with someone” — and the most obstinate hubris — “I can handle the drama”. The relationship between me and this person is becoming increasingly tumultuous. I feel distance; I feel coldness; I feel confused. I keep biting my tongue; I keep second-guessing myself; I keep killing my impulse. I keep telling myself this is what I want! I want HIM! But what the fuck do I know about what i need? I haven’t been single in 5 years. I can barely recognize myself. There’s so much self-discovery to do. I had no business trying so hard to be with someone, when i didn’t even give myself the chance to consider what it meant to be alone.

I was absolutely in need of time with myself. Time for myself. time alone. alone. alone. alone. alone.

I understood this when I spent the following summer in Vermont. off grid. in frequent solitude. and the fellowship of a beautiful few.

I nearly forgot it when i came back from Vermont, and started trying to be with That Person. Dare i admit i became desperate? I opened myself wide open to you, in such haste, that I nearly hallowed myself of all my hard-earned and beloved sacred energy to make any kind of space i could so that you would fit. so that i could maybe possibly somehow someway make it fit, make it work. Obvious spoiler: it didn’t work.

When i was trying to make it work, i was someone different. My best friend had never seen me in such a state: so in love with someone, and so unable to get a grip on myself. Sitting across from me, or soothing me on the other end of the phone, she is shocked to witness me so paralyzed, so fearful, so insecure. She wants the best for me and i don’t care, i just want him. As I run this back through my memory, I am shocked too. I’m a little embarrassed but mostly deeply empathetic towards myself then: i needed to be alone, but i couldn’t let go. Whatever i was trying to have…Whatever i was holding onto…was suffocating my life. And I insisted on being choked and being fine.

How did this become the cliff notes to my love life? I want to share with you the magnitude of this person’s affect on my heart, so that when i say: I HAVE TO SEE HIM AGAIN FOR THIS FESTIVAL

you understand

the

storm

resurging

in a place i thought was healing.

I was healing. I was letting go molecule by molecule. I was steaming off the memories layer by layer. I was cutting myself off from dangerous dwellings. I was doing my god. damn. best. to thoroughly leave this person in the past where this whole thing belongs.

Yet, The Bluest Eye is reviving for at least one more stretch in February. I’ve just come back from Davis (last night Sunday); we had our first full meeting and puppet rehearsal. This is to say, i saw the guy, in the flesh, and spent the whole week prior bracing myself for it. In the spirit of self-effacing honesty: i nearly didn’t go. But i decided it is a test of strength and it is a test of independence and it is allowing my craziness to overcome my insecurities. I was going to be in a room with this guy for 5 hours and dig my nails into myself, stay loyal to myself, and be Who I am unyieldingly. I felt really good about it when i left. I proved to myself that i could be the open and loving person i am even if the guy wrenching my heart is 5 feet away. 

Being so distracted and confused by the pain and longing that i missed the opportunities to exchange energy with the rest of the room around me would have been my biggest regret. 

As i said, i left feeling quite good, proud, and at peace with my vulnerabilities.

Maybe i’m not 100% recovered, but i’m clearly, very clearly, in the THICK of recoverING, and i am truly growing, and moving forward step by step by step. 

In Davis, my good friend tells me: “if it’s not good for you, it’s not love”. Before I left for Davis, my best friend reminded me: “you’re trying too hard to fill in the blanks.” I’ve learned: “You can’t give what you can’t give.” (More familiar is the saying: you can’t give what you don’t have.)

To be completely honest, this beautiful show getting this beautiful chance at national recognition has ripped open such deep, old, ill-healing wounds in my heart. with a GIANT sigh, i am re-facing re-surfacing emotional ghosts, hurled back into combatting some very volatile mood-swinging emotional crises. In my personal journal this week i worked up a motherfkn STORM. My journal may as well be dripping from all the gel pen.

and meanwhile, my tinyletter’s been blank blank blank blank empty dusty blank………… and somehow, addressing my lack of tinyletter-ing, has revealed a very private part of my life. it is true: i was very busy private journaling, i didn’t have steam to write for the blog.

now i feel kind of sick this is the story for this week, i mean this is what came out, but this is all “VERY PERSONAL TERRITORY KEEP OUT”’. it’s honestly sort of unfortunate that this week’s letter has be to about my love life.

well there we go anyway.

Wow, Well, To leave on a more caustic, casual note~

THOUGHTS I KEEP COMING ACROSS AS I USE HINGE............

so many Del Playa/Newport, suit wearing, beer touting, IM ON A BOAT white bro motherfuckers (this is the first demographic i kept seeing on my recommended. happy to say hard passing each and every one of them has changed the algorithm).

why tf is pineapple on pizza such a hot topic lmao

BUT WHAT’S THEIR ENERGYYYYYYYYYY LIKE??????!!!!!!

But how old are these pictures man *scrutinizing any available time stamps*

Oh, :O HE’S………not the cute one in the pic………….

Pictures say 33 but profile age says 23, iooonnooooo sir

weird flex weird flex weird flex

if you think they’re 20 miles away from you, always add 20 more…………..

am i having an averse reaction to your profile because you remind me of someone? ~_~

am i really attracted to your profile because you remind me of someone? ~_~

ARE THESE SHENANIGANS THE BEST USE OF MY TIME???????????

It seems this is what comes out of me when I have nothing prepared to write about...

Nothing like rashly revealing too much info to motivate a better, more though-out next week. LOL. 

wish me luck, and see you then.

* * *

i’ve committed to being vulnerable in writing every week. if u want it straight shot to your inbox: https://tinyletter.com/rose-artrat

previous letter:  #5.) God Bless a Good Mess

for random thoughts, random questions //

http://monolid-monologues.tumblr.com/ask