#haunting song. walked out and no one is here the tv is off... :\

[novabun-ships]

Hmmm...

[darlinluxx]

love your writing, so scrumptious and poetic🥰 i love a fellow saebyeok fangirl😩🩷

what do you think about a short fic about the reader slowly becoming friends with saebyeok who works at the local convenience store. like this bubbly kinda awkward girl just doesn’t get the hint the saebyeok doesn’t wanna talk and ends up wearing her down over time til they become friends and start to develop feelings😌

i’d love to see it, keep up the amazing work!

love koogiie 🍓

𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of smoking, mentions of small injuries

a/n : thank u so much !! your comments are the sweetest <3

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he bell above the door jingles, a familiar sound that barely registers anymore. it’s late, past midnight, and the fluorescent lights of the convienne store hum a lonely tune. you’re restocking the ramen shelves, humming along to the song playing from the tiny speaker behind the counter, when you see her.

she’s tall and thin, with a haunted look in her eyes that seem to absorb the harsh glow. she moves with a strange grace, like a stray cat who knows every alleyway in the city. it’s Saebyeok, and she’s a regular, though “regular” feels too casual for someone who exudes such a guarded energy. she always comes in late, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and maybe a drink, usually without a word.

your heart does a little flip, a nervous flutter you’ve come to recognize. she’s intriguing, in a way that makes your palms sweat a little. you push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and, despite all your better judgment, you decide to be friendly.

“late night, huh?” you chirp, your voice a little too high-pitched. you flash her a wide, hopefully not creepy smile.

she doesn’t smile back. or even look at you, really. she grabs a pack of cigarettes, pays, and walks towards the door.

“have a good night!” you call after her, your voice tinged with a bit of embarrassment.

you tell yourself she didn’t hear you, but the truth is, she heard. she’s just not interested.

the next night, she’s back. same time, same kind of cigarettes. you tell yourself you’ll play it cool, be nonchalant, but the moment you see her you’re back to your usual, bubbly self.

“hey! how’s it going?” you ask, leaning on the counter as you try to look cool. you are desperately failing. “anything interesting happen today?”

she doesn’t answer. she doesn’t even make eye contact. she just grabs her things, pays, and leaves.

okay, you think. maybe she’s just not a talker. but you’re stubborn. and maybe, just a little, you’re drawn to her quiet mystery.

you make a point of learning her usual order. you start stocking her favorite brand of cigarettes by the register so they’re easier for her to grab. you’ve even started leaving out a small bag of her favorite chips, just in case she wants them. you leave it on the counter, a silent offering.

she ignores it at first. then, one night, as she’s leaving, you see her glance at the bag. for the briefest moment, you think you see a flicker of something in her eyes that isn’t cold indifference.

it’s a small victory, but it fuels you. you keep talking to her, babbling about your day, your annoying coworkers, the latest tv show you’re obsessed with. she doesn’t respond for the most part, but sometimes, just sometimes, you notice a subtle shift in her posture, a tiny twitch of her lips. she’s listening. you know it.

one rainy night, you’re both the only ones in the store as you mop the floors. Saebyeok comes in, her usually stoic face looking even more pale in the dim lighting. she’s soaking wet, her hair plastered to her forehead. you see a small scrape on her hand that you know she’s probably too proud to care for.

“oh my god, you’re drenched!” you blurt out. you quickly grab a clean towel from behind the counter. “here, you gotta dry off.” you offer it to her.

she hesitates, then slowly takes the towel. you watch her awkwardly pat her hair, her movements surprisingly delicate. for a moment, the walls you always see her putting up seem to waver.

“you should probably clean that,” you say, pointing to the graze on her hand. you reach for the first aid kit.

she raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t refuse as you dab antiseptic on the scratch, bandaging it gently. you feel your face flush as you work.

“thank you.” she murmurs, her voice barely audible, but it’s the first time you’d ever heard it.

it’s quiet, but that small thank you is enough. you beam at her. this is a progress, a breakthrough.

over time, the silence that once surrounded Saebyeok starts to feel less like a wall and more like a quiet understanding. she doesn’t talk much, but she’ll occasionally meet your gaze, a slight curve to her lips as you tell another story. you catch her watching you as you dance along to the music while restocking shelves. she starts grabbing a soda along with her cigarettes, and she sometimes even accepts the bag of chips you leave out. you start to feel a warmth settle in your chest whenever she comes in.

one night, she stays a little longer. you’re closing up, counting the till, and she leans against the counter, watching you.

“why?” she asks, her voice low.

“why what?” you ask, confused.

“why are you so…” she trails off, searching for the right word. “nice?”

your heart clenches at the question. “i don’t know,” you admit with a nervous laugh, “you just seem like you need a friend.”

a small, almost imperceptible smile appears on her face.

“maybe.” she whispers, her eyes meeting yours.

that night, you realize something has shifted. it’s not just a friendship that you’re forging with this quiet, guarded woman. there’s something else, a pull, a connection that leaves you breathless and a little scared. your heart skips a beat, the same little nervous flip, but this time, it’s joined by a slow, burning warmth. it’s something you can’t deny, something you desperately hope she feels too. and she does, but she won’t tell you that. you catch her gaze, and the look in her dark eyes sends a shiver down your spine. you’re not just friends anymore. and maybe, that’s exactly what you’ve both been hoping for.

[billiegabbysyd]

𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄!𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒙 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓?

kind of based off of this song. had this idea while listening to the song today.

summary: ellie doesn’t love you the way you love her…

cw: ellie is toxic and treats the reader badly. the reader doesn’t want to let ellie go and is kind of pathetic to a point. this is also au so disregard the game and tv show.

series masterlist

the rain outside patters against the glass, filling the silence between you. the house is dimly lit, a single lamp casting long shadows across the worn wooden floors. ellie sits in the kitchen, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, her touch slow like she has all the time in the world. you watch her from the couch, waiting for something. a glance, a word, anything to tell you that you’re not just taking up space in her life.

but she doesn’t look at you.

she never does.

she’s been distant. at first, you thought it was just her way of coping, of dealing with everything that’s happened with joel...

but the weeks stretched into months, and the space between you only grew wider. moments where she used to hold your hand, brush her lips against your temple, murmur your name in the quiet hours of the night.those moments became rare, until they stopped altogether.

you feel like a ghost haunting her. a reminder of something she no longer wants, but can’t quite bring herself to get rid of.

ellie exhales, the smoke shadowing around her face. she finally glances at you, but it’s a brief moment of recognition before she looks away again.

you swallow hard. “ellie, do you ever—”

“don’t.”

her voice is tired, she’s already exhausted by the conversation before it even begins.

your hands tighten into fists in your lap. “what?”

“don’t start.”

it’s a warning, one that you had heard before. this conversation has happened before in different ways, with different words, always ending the same. she keeps you at a distance from her and you let her.

but tonight, it hurts more than usual. maybe because you are

you move forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “do you even want me here,els?”

ellie sighs, running a hand over her face. “jesus. why the fuck do you do this?”

because I love you. and you are everything to me. no matter how much you push me away, i can’t walk away from you.

but you don’t say any of that. you just shake your head, forcing a bitter laugh. “i don’t know.”

ellie takes another drag from her cigarette, exhaling through her nose. the silence between you stretches, thick with everything left unsaid.

“i just…” you hesitate, your throat tightening. “i love you, ellie.”

she doesn’t flinch or react. she just stands there, eyes distant, like you didn’t say anything at all. as if your feelings are nothing.

and then, finally, she sighs and laughs “well that’s on you, darlin’ .”

it’s a knife to the gut, but you don’t let it show. instead, you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “yeah your right” you put your head down, holding back your tears. she was too in your head.

she puts out her cigarette in the sink, her movements slow, detached. “i’m gonna head up to bed. you can stay if you want.”

if you want.

like you have a choice. like you’ll ever stop wanting her, even when she doesn’t want you back.

you thought about leaving…walking out that door and not looking back.

but you won’t.

even though she’s distant and barely acknowledges you, it’s still better than not having her at all.

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 10.5k (part EIGHT of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

october 4th ~ friday ~ 8:45 p.m.

A pop song from decades past hummed through the speakers, the sound at volume incredibly tolerable. You were thanking the girl behind the bar with your mind for not blaring it when there was barely anybody in the place. A couple older guys with baseball caps sat around the bar, the tv’s hanging up on the wall behind the curly blonde working hard played a baseball game. The playoffs had started for the season, these were important games now, there’d be a champion in a month or so.

DK’s team didn’t make it through, but they came close. Thinking of Isla while you watched the men in striped jerseys throw the ball around, guilt weighed on your chest. It’d been over a week and still, no one had heard from her. Not even Vernon.

Turning your glass in circles where it collected condensation on the wooden table you sat at, you leaned forward and took a sip, letting the vodka cool the pressure building within you from the inside out. It wasn’t too strong, not like the drinks at ATZ, but it was enough to ease the anxieties that had made their home within your nervous system.

For a week you’ve been a nauseous wreck. 

Last Saturday, the recruitment dinner, where it felt like your life had crumbled overnight, haunted you. Everything you thought you knew, everybody you thought you could trust, it was all a lie. Not only a lie, but a lie that had been brewing for a year. Since last semester, since Yeji walked out of that bedroom with that smug grin on her face, since Wooyoung threw away what the two of you had, since Yunho became your saving grace… A lie. All of it.

Wooyoung and Yeji never slept together. Were you supposed to believe that? He was pretty convincing Saturday night, pulling you out of the house once the two groups of authorities dispersed, Yeji running off somewhere before you had a second to confront her. 

And, oh lord, you longed to confront her.

ITZ had been paid off. Yeji gave them copious amounts of money so that she could be president. At least, that’s what Wooyoung had told you. It was your name, you were written down, Choi Aurora, you were supposed to be the president of ITZ for the last two years of your time here at Nasara, and you couldn’t figure out why.

Yeji has the money, Yeji has the face, Yeji has the fame. You have no money, you lived in a two bedroom rancher with your single, drug dealing father, and you have not the slightest idea what it takes to be a leader of a group of girls in dire need of somebody to look up to, somebody to place their blame on.

President Aurora? Yeah, okay.

Lighting up on the table, your phone took your attention from the TV though you longed to watch. The fans in the stands were on their feet, waving their rally towels in the air, shouting to their favorite players on the field. It was exciting, invigorating, no wonder Vernons dedicated his life to the sport. You’d have to get out to a game next season. Maybe if you could track down Isla, get them to make up somehow, you’d be able to go to games together.

You’d choose Tori first, always, but unfortunately you weren’t speaking at the moment.

She was the one lighting up your phone. Blowing it up, actually. Texts, phone calls, attempts to get through to you since she woke up on Sunday and you were nowhere to be found. Not answering her hurt you, because she was the only person you’d respond to straight away no matter the situation, no matter what you were doing. If you had a Tori notification, you were answering it. To go almost a week without speaking to her, it pained you. But, at this point, who knew what and didn’t tell you?

You needed time. You needed space. You still attended your classes for the week, ensuring your grades didn’t slip amidst this chaos, you just didn’t live at ITZ.

“I’ll buy you another if you need it, you don’t have to worry about nursing that one,” your father said, sitting beside you, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. Sipping your drink again, taking a much longer sip than before, you shifted your eyes over to him and he laughed. “You get to relax this weekend, okay? We can turn off your phone and hang out, just me and you.”

Almost laughing at his use of hang out, you smirked and swallowed your drink. “What about Seulgi?”

Yeonjun smiled, shaking his head. “Just me and you.” Taking in his twisted brows, the most animated part of his face, something you wonder if you’ve acquired from him, you took a breath. The door to the bar swung open, your father laughing as the tall, short black haired, thirty years younger, beefier version of himself walked through the door. “And Keeho, apparently.” 

His feline eyes scanned around the bar, not taking long to spot you and your father. When he did, his resting bitch face erupted into the warmest smile, one you’ve missed. Ignoring the girl at the bar who greeted him, he held out his arms and hurried toward the table, catching you as you jumped to your feet to get swallowed by his hug.

“Oh my god,” he sang, the twang of his voice comforting you tenfold. “What the hell are you doing home? I missed you.”

Squeezing him hard, you groaned. “I missed you, too.”

“We just saw each other last month.” Yeonjun snickered.

Keeho shot him a look over your head, one of his hands smoothing over your hair. “It was a month too long, Yeonjun.” Unraveling yourself from his grasp, you laughed and sat back down beside your father, pulling your feet up onto the chair.

Yeonjun closed his eyes for all of three seconds, took a deep breath and let it out with a headshake, turning his attention toward the TV. Keeho was the only person he’d allow to snap at him like that, it’s been that way for years. He’s one of your homegrown friends, the two of you growing up together in the forgotten parts of Tamoe, where the rich people didn’t linger. Your houses were on the same street, right along the town's border of Soro, the main reason why the rich people didn’t stray too far south.

Sharing an age with you, Keeho still lived at home with his parents and his younger brother. Attending all the same schools at the same time, not wanting to mess with the other kids who were tougher than you, the two of you linked up. Keeho, a bisexual muscle mass of pure boy, and you, the girl who wouldn’t see her dad for weeks at a time, but when she did it’s because she had to go to a random police station with her Uncle Yoongi to bail him out of his holding cell.

Yeonjun knew how to make a scene, he could draw a crowd, which made it really hard to keep friends, or make any for that matter. Keeho was the right amount of different, the right amount of crazy, the perfect amount of understanding all wrapped into a judgement free, couldn’t care less human being. Even when he met your father, at the ripe age of eleven years old, he wasn’t afraid. At the time Yeonjun towered over him, but now, Keeho was only an inch shorter. The difference unnoticeable.

Seated around the wooden slab, Keeho stretched his arms across it and watched you wide eyed as you told him how you've been living your week.

“Father of the year, Yeonjun,” he said to your dad, making him crack the smallest smile, his eyes not leaving the TV. All week he’d been driving you into Delo, onto Nasara’s campus, taking you to and from classes, waiting for you outside the buildings. He’d often mumble his disappointment toward the students who’d let their glares linger on you as you walked in and out. Most had a dirty look in their eye, but a few watched in sympathy.

“I don’t want her in that house anymore,” he mumbled, scoffing as something happened within the game. “Not unless those social media posting bitches grow up.”

Keeho furrowed his brows, turning to you. “You’re gonna drop out of the sorority?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, ignoring your dad as he shot you a look.

“Tell him what that girl did,” he said. “The president of that stupid hierarchy shit.”

“Wait, Yeji?” Keeho asked, sitting up. After you nodded, he laughed. “You’re kidding me, what the hell happened? I know we weren’t looking forward to her being head of this hierarchy shit, not after…” His eyes insinuated what your father didn’t know. “What’d she do?”

Sighing, you dropped your gaze to the table and shrugged. “It sounds literally crazy, Kee. Like, those movies we used to watch, where the shit that goes down is unfathomable.”

“Unfathomable,” he huffed a laugh, “You’re talking like Yunho.”

Letting your eyes close, the sting of your heart overwhelming, you glanced at your dad when he snatched his empty glass off the table.

“Fuck that dickwad, too,” he said, lifting the glass toward Keeho before he strutted toward the bar. He watched Yeonjun walk away, then whipped his head to look at you wide eyed and confused as hell.

“Fuck that dickwad too,” you whispered.

Scooting his chair somewhat closer, Keeho leaned toward you. “I thought we liked him,” he said quietly, keeping the words between you. “At least, I thought you liked him, I could see it, Aura. When we hung out with him this summer, good lord, the two of you were insufferable.”

Everyone could see it but you, apparently.

Tangling your fingers together over your knees, you smushed your lips together and blew a stream of air through them. “I don’t even know if he ever really liked me.” 

Keeho threw his head backward. “What the fuck, start from the beginning, what the hell happened?”

So, you did.

Starting from the beginning, restating the story of Wooyoung, who Keeho had strong opinions about. From the Yeji hook up, to falling into Yunho, to the ATZ ban, to finding out about him and Mina, to hooking up with Seonghwa, to then hooking up with Yunho, to him telling you he loved you (where Keeho just about leapt out of his seat), to the Soul situation, to keeping it all a secret from the outside, to Isla disappearing, to the recruitment dinner…

“You said all of that to her?!” Keeho’s tone was harsh through his teeth, his whisper sharp. When you shrugged he cackled. “Aura, what?!”

“I don’t know if that’s really all of it, it’s blurry,” you said. “But, I think I went in on her. It just kept coming out. I think I was tired of keeping it all a secret.”

“You said she didn’t react?” Keeho asked, and took your nod for an answer. “Aura,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Looking at… all of that,” he spoke slowly, thinking at the same time, “Do you think there’s a chance she, like, knew about you guys already?”

The words should shock you, but they don't. You’ve thought about it already. The way they all huddled up together, aside from Tori and Yuna, making everything seem like one big ploy. Seonghwa sleeping with you, Yunho not getting rid of Mina when he should’ve the second he started harboring feelings for you… If he was even harboring feelings for you.

“And what about Mingi? If Tori knew, and she’s likely to tell her boyfriend everything, did Mingi spill shit to ATZ? But, if ATZ and ITZ were in cahoots this whole time it seems, and Mina already knew, it could’ve been her spilling shit to everyone?”

None of it made sense, even Keeho, who was smarter than Yunho, couldn’t figure it out. All week you’ve been trying to string it together, trying to understand why any of this had to happen. If Yeji wanted to be president so badly, and she had the money to do so, why in the world would she need to ruin your life in the process?

“Have you talked to Tori at all?”

Her name made your stomach start to hurt.

“No,” you said, taking in his understanding gaze full of sorrow. “I can’t talk to any of them, I’m so sick about it. Which makes me want to drop out of the house and run away. They’re… monsters. All of them. She looked at me like she had no idea, Kee, I can say that. It seemed like she and Yuna weren’t in on it, which I can only hope.” Mingi pops into your mind, the way he tried to reach out for Tori before you left, but she swatted him away, pushing him back. You had no reason to not trust Tori, even though she did get really close with Mina fast, and she was dating Mingi who seemed like he was in on it.

If Tori did know, if Tori was in on all of it, it would hurt the most out of everything that's happened to you thus far.

“I don’t know what I want to do,” you said, looking at your father who carried three glasses back to the table. “Dropping out of the house seems ideal, not having to be around all of those girls who don’t want me there anyway.”

“Exactly,” Yeonjun cheered, a smile making its way onto his face. Sliding the glasses onto the table, one for each of you, he sat down and let out a groan as he did. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say all week, Aura.” Keeho grabbed his glass and sipped it, thanking your father with a wink, one that Yeonjun returned. 

“Yeah, well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Taking your second glass, you drink from it and screw your face up. It was stronger than the first. “Jesus, Dad, what’d you tell her to put in here?”

Yeonjun laughed, sitting backward like he was. “I asked for something that’ll make you feel better.”

“Haven doesn’t make drinks like this,” you said, coughing after another sip. “How much did you pay her?”

“Enough,” Yeonjun nodded once, then pointed his eyes at Keeho. “How’s life, Kee? You know, since I saw you last month?”

Laughing, Keeho sipped his drink. “A lot better now that I broke up with my boyfriend.”

Yeonjun’s lips parted in shock. “And this happened when?”

“Two months ago,” you said, looking at your dad who gaped back at you.

Keeho shrugged. “I didn’t want to talk about it when you asked me about him last time.”

Yeonjun moved his chair beneath the table and rested his elbows on the wood, leaning toward your friend who sat across from him. “Well,” your father bobbed his head, “Tell me now.”

The two fell into a deep discussion quickly, Yeonjuns focus on him completely, hanging onto every word of every story Keeho was telling him. He had broken up with his boyfriend of two years, a boy who was holding him back from being a better version of himself. A boy who wouldn’t speak nicely to him or others, a boy who snuck about and would beat around the bush whenever Keeho asked him about anything. It was toxic, and you’re surprised Keeho dealt with him for so long, but he was free now.

Fifteen minutes later, all three drinks gone, they were finally on the break up story when the door to Haven opened and slammed shut. Two boys walked in, possibly around your age, one taller than the other. The tallest had a curly brown mop on his head, the other with longer, shaggier hair tucked beneath a baseball cap. His face was hidden by the shadows, but his body told you that regardless of what his features were he was good looking.

In a black t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, three silver necklaces hung over his chest, one of them a dog tag. His shoulders were wide, his arms rippling with muscle as he walked and said hello to some of the men at the bar. The boy beside him, tall and lanky, had eyes as big as the moon and a smile so welcoming you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. Their energy was captivating, walking into the place like they owned it, the short one’s hips swaying in his walk, a confidence oozing out of his being.

They took to the end of the bar where no one sat, both of them situating themselves on the wooden stools, ordering drinks from the bartender who gave them a friendly smile. They clearly came here often, they spoke to her like they knew her, and when she walked away, they spoke to one another like they were closer than friends, like they knew each other better than that. 

The taller one with the curls, he was familiar, that smile like one you’ve seen before, but couldn’t place from where.

It wasn’t until the shorter one took his hat off and pushed his hair back that it all made sense. Your heart skipped a beat. He was good looking, he was gorgeous. A jaw pointed and sharp was home to a charismatic smile living below the sweetest nose and the most beguiling eyes. A beautiful face. A face you and Tori had to zoom in on.

Chan.

Chan and his cousin, Minho, or so you believe. Tori had told you that.

They were closer than friends, they were family.

Mina’s family.

“Aura kinda convinced me that it was time,” Keeho said to your dad who nodded. “Even though I knew it, she gave me the confidence to finally let go of something I was holding onto that was hurting me.” He looked at you with a smile. “Right?”

Nodding, not taking your eyes off of Chan, you rubbed Keeho’s arms and stood up. “Yeah, I’m proud of you,” you mumbled. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“Can you get me a-”

You didn’t hear the rest of your fathers question, your feet were on a mission, they had a mind of their own. Bounding for the bar, keeping yourself as calm as possible, though your blood threatened to boil over, you perched yourself on the corner closest to Chan and Minho, the two speaking to one another like they were keeping a secret. The bartender returned, a girl with a name tag that read Hope. Her hair was hanging at her shoulders, naturally curly blonde hair that turned different colors when she walked beneath the different neon colored lights. Your father told you all about this place, the history, apparently it’s always looked the same.

A time capsule of sorts.

“What can I get you?” Hope asked after she brought drinks to the boys. “You’re with him, right?” Her nod toward your father made you smile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Can I have whatever he got me before? Tasted like vodka, I think? I don’t even know what it was.”

Hope laughed. “Of course, give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” She took your glass and whisked herself down the bar, getting to work. Glancing up to the TV, the ballgame nearly over now, you took a deep breath and watched as it cut to the announcers talking about other teams and players. DK appeared on the screen, a photo of him from this past season on the pitcher's mound, his eyes pointed and focused on the batter in front of him. The words along the bottom read like a news story, that he was disappointed his team didn’t make it into the playoffs, but that he was getting much needed family time now, so it was worthwhile.

“Worthwhile,” you muttered, looking away.

So it seemed Isla really was with DK. A part of you longed to stay angry at Yeji for not sharing it with the house, and part of you still felt insanely guilty for not speaking up after Yeji had told you, and apparently only you, that she was leaving.

It didn’t make sense, much like everything else.

But, if Isla was safe, if Isla was happy… it was worthwhile.

“Hey,” a voice so cheerful called out, to you, you think. Glancing to your left, toward the boys where the voice came from, you find them both looking at you.

Jesus, they were prettier than any of the boys in ATZ.

“You go there?” Chan asked, looking at your crewneck. Following his gaze, rolling your eyes at the big Nasara letters across your chest, you shot him a solemn glare and scoffed.

“Unfortunately,” you said, and he started to smile, the corners of his lips perking up into something that would easily persuade you to your knees. It was lazy, yet so effective. “You?” Even though you knew the answer, you asked anyway.

Chan swallowed his smile and shook his head. “Nah, but my sister does,” he said. His eyes you’ve seen before, he wore them like Yeji wore hers, trying to pierce through your own, trying to see through you. Chan’s were less confronting though, he just seemed like he was trying to figure you out. “She’s in a sorority or something.” The boys sipped their beers and acted like they weren’t honed into you, glancing away when neither was speaking.

“ITZ?” you asked, keeping your voice steady, and Chan nodded.

Minho scrunched his nose. “My sister went through them,” he said, and Chan elbowed his bicep. “What?” he snickered, elbowing him back.

“You make it sound like a bad thing, bro,” Chan said, flickering his eyes to you. “You know it? ITZ?”

Settling your lips into a smile, one that made Chan look away for a second, you nodded. “I know of it.” Turning to Minho, you asked, “Why’s it so bad?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno, forget I said anything,” he mumbled. “I didn’t go to college, so what do I know?”

“Probably plenty,” you said, gaining his attention back. Shocked, his eyes were wide as he looked at you. “People make college out to be something that’s necessary, but I don't really think it is. If you wanna do it, you do it. If you don’t, who cares?”

Minho shared a snicker with Chan. “My mother,” he sneered, then dropped the smile when he turned back to you. “Excellent perspective for someone who’s able to go to Nasara.”

Chan elbowed his cousin again, this time tossing his hands out to the side. “Dude, my dad went to Nasara, what are you getting at?”

Minho simply smirked, then leaned toward you a bit. His eyes were captivating, galaxy filled. “How is it? ITZ?”

Raising a brow, you asked, “How’d you know I’m a part of them?”

Minho narrowed his eyes. “I do now.” Straightening out where you sat, Hope popped back around and brought you your drink. Giving her a small thank you, you peeked at Minho’s smug face and clenched your jaw. “How is it? A dream, I’m sure.”

Wrapping a hand around your cold glass, you found Chan studying you, every inch. “It’s a dream,” you muttered, taking the straw out of the cup, drinking straight from the glass. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Minho said.

Chan waved a hand, confused. “Okay, I don’t get it,” he said, making both of you look at him and his twisted brows. “Mina’s having a great time there, what am I missing? Do I need to be worried?” Your stomach flipped. “Last time I spoke to her, she was fine.”

Minho shrugged, sipping his beer, pointing his attention to the TV.

Chan looked to you for help. “I’m not really good at picking subtle shit up, so you’re gonna have to give it to me straight.”

Taking another gulp from your glass, you set it down with a bang and ran your tongue over your teeth. “Listen, Ch-” His name almost tumbled from your lips, right as you realized that he never told you his name. These boys had no idea who you were, and you were to act like you had no idea who they were. “Mina’s your sister?” He nodded, waiting with an unhuman like patience.

You had two options.

Give it to him straight, like he said, which would out his sister, or you could lie to him, and make it seem like ITZ was a dream, when in reality it was a nightmare. With another gulp of your glass, the liquor seemed to decide for you.

No more lies.

“Okay,” you sighed, Minho now watching you, too. “I kinda lied to you both, in a way. I know you. Mina’s my Vice President.” Chan didn’t move. Minho, though, held back a smile. “Last year, when she was a freshman, she was really quiet. Super sweet, but quiet.” Minho shot his cousin a look and received another elbow to the bicep. “Even when this year started, she was so… nice.”

“Now you’re lying,” Chan muttered, breaking his eyes away to sip his beer. “Mina’s not nice.” 

“Chan,” you said steadily, making him look at you with the surprise that you knew his name already. Minho’s smile grew. “No, she’s not. Mina’s not nice.”

“Here we go,” Minho whispered, taking his beer to his full, pink lips. Chan had frozen in place, and though it left you a little uncertain whether or not you should continue, not knowing what would happen, with knowing what you know about this boy…

You kept talking, and it wouldn’t stop.

The words kept coming, the information spewing faster and faster with each gulp of liquor. You left out details they didn’t need to know, details you told Keeho, but they got everything they needed to know. 

Everything Chan needed to know.

And, after many, many minutes of him barely blinking as you told him all about his darling little sister and how she’d been acting, what she’d been a part of, you took a long, deep breath, feeling lighter than ever.

Minho nodded once you had finished, the tiniest smirk gracing his lips, like you had reiterated a story he’d heard plenty of times prior to tonight. He uttered the quietest, “Sounds like Mina.”

But, it wasn’t until Chan’s lips parted, to intake a breath, that you finally felt any sort of pure, euphoric satisfaction. 

“Why would she lie about me?”

The last two weeks caught up to you, you could’ve broken down in tears, absolute joyful tears, but he spoke again, so you kept it together.

“You’re Aurora,” he said quietly, putting his own puzzle pieces together. “I’ve heard your name before. A few times actually. When she’d talk on the phone to her sorority girls, or whatever, and then when that boy would come over.” 

That boy. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a sheepish shrug.

“She hates you,” Chan said, filterless. 

Rolling your eyes while Minho laughed, you couldn’t help but crack one yourself. “Figures, she’s an accomplice in trying to ruin my life.”

“Aside from the boy thing, I can’t see why she’d try so hard to ruin…” His voice trailed off as he stared at you. “Aurora,” he said, quieter this time. Squishing his brows in the center of his forehead he glances behind you, lifting his chin to peek at where you had come from, back toward Keeho, and your father.

“What?” you questioned, following his line of sight to Keeho and Yeonjun, your dad glancing over at the same time, catching a glimpse of the boys, then quickly turning away. He leaned forward on the table, placing his chin in his hand, hiding part of his face.

“Holy shit,” Chan mumbled. Minho looked back and forth, then landed on you with an unreadable pout of his lips. “That’s your dad, isn’t it?” Gulping, electricity buzzed beneath your skin. Anytime someone brought up your dad, you had to prepare for the worst. 

“Yeah,” you said just above a whisper.

Chan tightened his jaw, then settled his gaze on you. “Do you… know who my parents are? I mean, Mina’s parents? I guess mine work too, but, hers make more sense, you’re dealing with her, but, I mean mine make more sense in this situation, ‘cause my dad kicked your dads ass, and-”

“What?” you gasped.

“Our parents know each other,” he said. “You’ve never heard of this before, have you?”

Sitting forward, leaning toward them, you shake your head wildly and laugh aloud. “Do I look I fucking know any of this?”

Minho averted his eyes to the bar. Chan stacked his arms on top of one another and rested them on the bar.

“I think, if I remember it right, your dad was a real jackass,” he said.

Making a face, you got a laugh out of Minho. “Tell me something I don’t know, Chan.” “My parents, Beomgyu and Faden, and his dad, Taehyun,” he paused, hoping a name would trigger something, but alas, you’ve never heard these names a day in your life. “They were all friends, your dad included. Yeonjun, right?” You answered with a meek nod. “Yeah, they were all really close, like through high school and all that, but one day when they were, like, twenty, your dad was an asshole to my mom, so they wrote him off.”

Taking a minute, processing what he’s told you, that you have more history than you think with these boys, with Mina, you rub your eyes and slide your hands down your cheeks with a groan. “So, she’s doing this to me because my dad was an asshole to your mom? What the hell did he do?”

Chan shrugged. “I wish I could tell you, I didn’t hear any details. I just know the vague version. Mina and our mom are pretty close though, you might be able to get it out of her.”

A harsh laugh came from your chest. “Yeah, okay,” you widened your eyes and shook your head. “That bitch won’t be hearing from me ever again.”

“Hey,” Chan lowered his brows. “That bitch is still my sister.”

With a breath, you asked, “You’re gonna tell her all this aren’t you? That I told you?”

“Probably,” he said immediately, and Minho laughed. “But, as much as she’s my sister, I stand by what I said, Mina’s not nice. And, since she had no problem using my disability for her own gain, I can tell you this, to help you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Minho whispered, the sneaky smile appearing on his lips again.

Chan raised his brows and shot his cousin a smirk. “Oh, I would.” He looked at you. “Plus, you’d find this out anyway if you looked for it yourself, but I could give you a headstart, Choi.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt anyone, Chan,” you said, which was the whole truth. Revenge was cute, but you don’t think you could stomach anymore drama.

“It won’t hurt her, but I know somebody who’s really good at putting her in her place. Our mom can get so wishy-washy with her, ‘cause we’re girls,” he said in a silly voice, pretending to flip his hair, getting you and Minho to laugh, “But, her dad? Soobin? As much as he is wrapped around her finger, yanno, ‘cause that’s his daughter? He doesn’t let her get away with shit.”

Her dad. The tall one with the glasses in that photo from her high school graduation. The one she said reminded her of Yunho.

“Chan, that’s wonderful and all,” you said and he smiled. “But, in no way am I just going to be able to walk into his home and accuse his daughter of being shitty.”

He shared a look with Minho, then said, “He holds a lecture at Nasara every Monday.”

A chill ran down your spine. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head and cracked a laugh. “I’m so serious,” he said. “Every Monday, sometime in the afternoon, on the law side of the school. He has a friend on the board or something, so either way, no matter which one you go to, you’ll get something done.”

Sliding off the stool, a newfound energy in your veins, you grabbed your almost empty glass and smiled. “Thanks.”

Chan shrugged. “She deserves it after what she did. To you and me. Damn.” Your smile went crooked, and he shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Sorry you had to hear all about my fucked up brain.” Minho gave him a gentle elbow to the bicep as if to tell him the opposite.

“No, I’m sorry,” you said, and he attempted to smile. “You don’t deserve that. Your own sister should be there to support you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, twisting so he was in line with the bar. He looked away from you and you took that and Minho’s hand planting on his shoulder as a sign to part ways. Your eyes fell to the dog tag around his neck, like they had when they walked in.

Curious, you said, “Your tag,” and he looked over at you, “What’s it for?”

Chan took it between his fingers and held it up. It was covered in writing you couldn’t read from where you stood. “My dad,” he said, reading what was engraved on it. “He got them when he hit ten years of sobriety. It came with two. He gave one to me and my brother.”

You smiled, something soft. “That’s amazing.”

“It is,” Chan breathed, still studying the necklace. Dropping it to his chest, he looked at you. “He’s almost at twenty.” Then, he looked at his beer with only a few sips missing and pushed it away. Minho huffed a laugh and switched their cups, putting his empty one in front of Chan.

“You finished it,” he joked, then drank from his cousin's cup, focusing his eyes on the TV.

“Bye guys,” you said, and Minho gave you a wave with a couple fingers from the hand with the glass in it. 

Chan watched you start to walk away, then shouted your name to make you turn. “I’m sorry, too. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”

He worked his face into a questionable smile. “How?”

Gesturing around the building, you shrugged. “I have my ways, Choi.”

october 5th ~ saturday ~ 12:15 a.m.

“He said, answer me, Rory, please, let me explain, I can explain,” Keeho read your messages out loud, laying on your bed with his long legs stretched out along your mattress. Using funny voices for each person, he had you laughing from the floor where you were digging through drawers looking for something to wear to bed since everything was in your drawers over at Nasara.

“I should just block him,” you said, and Keeho threw a fist in the air.

“I second that,” he said. “Let’s do that!”

Nearly breaking your neck to look at him, you threw out a hand. “No!”

The look he gave you made you giggle. “And, why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “I wanna see how much he begs.”

Keeho’s eyes widened as he flipped to his stomach on your baby blue comforter. “Aura, you take your men submissive.”

With a huff you turned back to the beige drawers you’ve had since birth. “Not in the slightest.” It was give and take for you, unless you were with Seonghwa apparently, and mother of god, you’re lucky he didn’t ruin you for life.

Your beaten up white wooden door creaked open and Yeonjun poked his head inside. He glanced from Keeho on your bed pushed in the corner, to you on the floor a few feet away from him. The ceiling fan spun on a low speed, making the yellow light from the old bulbs flash in a way that would keep you busy as a baby as your dad would say. 

“Yes?” you questioned, and he popped a smile on his face.

“You staying?” he asked Keeho.

“I think so,” he mumbled, looking up from your phone only once. “We’ve got a lot to work through here.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun said, making a face to signify his understanding, letting Keeho get back to your messages. Looking back at you he said, “No funny business in here.”

“Dad, it’s Keeho, he sleeps here all the time,” you deadpanned, and he laughed.

“I know, I know,” he said, stepping into the room for a moment. “Had to tease, I miss having you guys here.”

“I second that,” Keeho said, his tone flat, though you know he meant it with all of his being. Yeonjun glanced at him and laughed to himself. The boy didn’t even look up from your phone.

“Goodnight,” he said, then smiled at you. “I love you.”

A comfort washed over you. “I love you, too.” He went to pull the door shut, stepping out into the hall, but then you called him back. “Dad?”

“Yes, Aura,” he said, looking down at you.

Swallowing, suddenly feeling like your throat had closed and you wouldn’t be able to get the words out, you whispered, “Did you know those boys at the bar? Chan and Minho?” He was silent. Thinking. “Do you know who Beomgyu is?” A breath corrupted his lungs. “Taehyun?” Blinking a mile a minute, he averted his eyes to your carpeted floor. “Faden?”

It took him a second, but he managed to say, “Yes, I did. I knew them. Not the boys at the bar, but I assumed they… belonged to some of them, the names you said. They look just like them.” You wondered if it were true for you too, if you looked anything like your father. Or, your mother.

“Mina,” you said, and he looked at you, his eyes now wider than they normally would be. “She’s Faden’s daughter. Faden and Soobin’s daughter.” “Soobin,” he whispered. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“When’s the last time you saw any of them?”

He stuttered a bit before he said, “It’s been a really long time, Aura.” Things went quiet for a second, then he asked, “The boys tonight, who do they belong to?”

“Chan, the one with dark hair, he’s Beomgyu and Faden’s son. He’s a twin,” you said, and Yeonjun tipped his chin upward, his lips curling into some type of smile, like he knew something you didn’t, and shouldn’t know. “Minho, the other one, some guy Taehyun is his dad.”

Your father met your eyes with a fierceness. “Who’s his mom?” he asked, and when you shrugged he laughed aloud.

“Holy shit,” he sighed, taking a long breath after his laughter subsided. “Those motherfuckers.” Letting him mumble to himself, you gave him another goodnight as he circled around and went to pull your door shut. “Those crazy ass motherfuckers.”

“Aura,” Keeho said, wanting your attention. Pulling sweatpants from high school out of your drawer, you stood up and took two steps to your bed, dropping the pants on Keeho’s lap. There was little space to put them elsewhere. “Who is ‘ignore this jerk’?”

Shimmying out of your jeans, you breathe through a laugh and jump into the sweats you brought over. “Wooyoung, why?” Reaching up a hand to pull on the string hanging from the light on your ceiling, the room falls dark. Climbing over Keeho, wedging yourself between him and the wall you pop your chin on his chest to look at your phone with him. “Guess I should change his name now, huh?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘hi’,” Keeho said, then gave you a funny look. Snatching the phone from him you groaned and started typing back to him. “Who says hi anymore? Who does he think he is?”

“We’ve been talking, Kee, since Saturday night,” you mumbled and Keeho flipped to his side dramatically, facing you. Tucking his hands beneath his cheek on your pillows he exhaled heavily.

“Enlighten me,” he said.

“There’s nothing,” you said, shrugging with your hands, the light from your phone screen bouncing off his sharp features. “We just check in on each other. I’ve seen him in passing. Nothing more. He’s been living with his cousin in Delo, I think.”

[ignore this jerk]: hi

[you]: hi

[ignore this jerk]: how was your day

[you]: it was alright, had something interesting happen, how was yours

[ignore this jerk]: same here, had something interesting happen

[ignore this jerk]: you go first

[you]: it’s a lot, are you sure

[ignore this jerk]: …

The bubbles vanished as quickly as they’d popped up. Then, ‘Incoming Call: ignore this jerk’ was lighting up your phone screen. Keeho almost screeched.

“Answer it, answer it, answer it.” He said it about seventy more times.

“I’m in bed,” you sneered.

Keeho rolled his eyes, “Yeah, with me, answer it.“

“No! I will not do this to myself right now, I can’t handle anymore-“

Keeho took it upon himself to slide his finger over the green answer button, cutting you right off. Your heart lodged up into your throat as Wooyoung appeared on the screen, lit up by warm, dim light. He wasn’t looking when you appeared, his side profile on display. His nose on display. Tanned skin, dark hair in waves exposing his forehead, he wore a black cutoff tee and silver studs in his ears.

“Oh my god,” Keeho muttered out of sheer gay panic. Slapping a hand over his mouth, Wooyoung turned to his phone and gave you a small smile. 

“Who was that?” he asked, walking himself around whatever room he was in. Glaring at Keeho, you turned the phone to put your friend in the little box, and Wooyoung laughed. “Am I interrupting something?”

“God, no,” you said, and Keeho let out his own laugh. “This is Keeho, he lives down the street. We’ve known each other since we were eleven.” 

“That’s cool,” Wooyoung said, looking at the screen, finally finding a spot to settle. “Hi, Keeho.” Your friend uttered the smallest hi, and you wanted to lose your shit. Who says hi anymore? “So, you’re home, then?”

“I am,” you said. “I haven’t been in the house since Sunday.”

Wooyoung popped his brows. “What’s Tori have to say about that?”

“No idea,” you mumbled. “Keeho’s been reading through my messages I haven’t opened all week. We haven’t gotten to Tori’s yet.”

“I’m sure it’ll be crazy when you do,” Wooyoung pushed his lips to the side.

You didn’t even want to think about it. “What’s so interesting that happened to you today?” Changing the subject, Wooyoung didn’t seem to care. He glanced up and around the space he was in, and smiled.

“I, uh, got an apartment,” he said, smiling at you.

“Holy shit?” you gasped, sitting up, leaving Keeho behind on your pillows. Pushing your hair from your face, you twisted so you could place your back against the dark blue wall. “Where at? Delo?”

Wooyoung nodded, looking around the room. “Yeah,” he said, proud as ever. “It’s ten minutes from school, a few blocks from my cousin. He helped me find it, we’ve been looking for a day or so, and this place just fell into my lap. He says I got lucky.” The smile that couldn’t leave his lips was triggering your own.

“You got lucky,” you said. “I’m happy for you, that’s really great. You deserve it after what’s happened.”

“Thanks, Ro,” he said. “You should come see it. I kinda wanna talk to you anyways. Just you.” Shifting your gaze to Keeho, he placed a hand playfully beneath his chin and smirked.

“I think we definitely need to talk,” you said, looking at the screen, trying to ease the way your heart was beating. “Sort this mess out.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

It was quiet for a few seconds, you and Wooyoung just gazing at one another through the phone screen until Keeho tapped his foot to your thigh, pulling you from your thoughtless daydream.

“I, uh, I gathered some, um, interesting information tonight,” you said, and Wooyoung adjusted himself in his seat like he pulled himself out of the same thoughtless daze at the sound of your voice.

“Yeah?” he questioned, glancing away for a moment. “Like what?”

You told him what you found out through Chan. Really, you rambled, the buzz still evident in your body, and it was like he could tell with the way he giggled at some of the things you would say, or the words you would use. You spilled it all, and by the end of it all, he was leaning into the screen, his eyes unable to look elsewhere.

“Keeho, you were here for all of this?” Wooyoung asked.

Turning the phone to show your friend, he shot the phone a thumbs up and Wooyoung sighed. “Don’t believe me, Wooyo?” You turned the phone back to your face and found him surprised. “What?”

“You… Uh, I haven’t heard you say that in a long time, that’s all,” he said, his volume dropping astronomically. You couldn’t remember the last time you called him that, the nickname rolled off your tongue with such ease you didn’t even see it coming yourself. “So, what are we gonna do? We gonna go talk to this Soobin dude, or what?”

“Do it!” Keeho shouted, making you and Wooyoung laugh.

“Ro?” Wooyoung asked, one of his brows perking up.

Glancing between Keeho and your phone, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s do it.”

october 7th ~ monday ~ 8:03 a.m.

It happened like a movie, like the rest of your life had been apparently. One shoe on, you hopped on one foot toward the front door slipping the other on your foot, almost tripping and face planting onto the floor. He texted you that he was here, waiting outside in a car you’ve been in only a few times before when he’d driven you around for a date here or there. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, or why the feeling was so large within you.

It was Wooyoung. You’ve done this before. He wasn’t anything to you at the moment, if anything, he was a friend. Or, trying to be, you think.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you grabbed onto the doorknob to the front door and yanked it open, spotting him down by the curb in the blacked out BMW.  All four windows were tinted, you couldn’t see him in the driver's seat which only worsened the feeling in your gut. You felt like a teenager getting a ride from her high school crush, it was somewhat humiliating.

Even more so when your dad appeared around the corner by the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you?” he asked, leaning against the edge of the wall where the kitchen met the hallway to the bedrooms. Turning toward him, you smushed your lips together and let out a sigh.

“I’m sure,” you whispered. “We’re going to go talk to Soobin today.”

Yeonjun curled his lip, pushing himself off the wall. Taking slow strides toward you, he folded his arms over his chest. “Enjoy him. Last I heard of him he’s a stuck up son of a bitch.”

You wanted to laugh, and you did a bit, but you frowned. “Dad, you don’t know him, don’t talk about him like that.”

Yeonjun furrowed his brows, looking you up and down. “His daughter is terrorizing my daughter.” He narrowed his eyes. “My very smart daughter who doesn’t let anybody treat her like this.”

With a breath, you said, “That’s why we’re going to talk to him.”

Darting his eyes to the glass door behind you, eyes gobbling up the BMW, Yeonjun looked back at you. “That’s Wooyoung? The guy who started this entire thing?”

“He didn’t start it,” you said. “Well, I mean, he kinda did, but he didn’t mean to. Yunho, remember?”

Yeonjun twisted his brows and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t keep track, Aura, what did I say about getting involved with the boys?”

Breathing through a laugh, you groaned soon after. “It’s over, all of it, I promise. No more boys.” Dropping his hands, he gave you a curious look, glanced to the car once more, then smirked.

“Sure,” he said. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you nodded. “We will.” Turning toward the door, you looked back over your shoulder at his smile. “Don’t get arrested again.”

“Aura!” he shouted while you laughed, following you out of the front door and onto the porch. “That was one time! You were ten!”

Walking down the lawn backwards, you held out your arms and grinned. “One time too many!”

Swatting your words away with his hand, he watched you as you spun around and yanked on the door handle, pulling the door open to the leather interior and a boy sitting in the driver's seat, waiting for you with a small smile. Looking past you, to your dad on the porch, Wooyoung held up a hand to wave, and thankfully, thankfully, Yeonjun gave him one back.

Saying your last goodbye, you pulled the door shut and sank down into your seat, feeling entirely out of place in the incredibly neat car. It smelled like cherries, and every crevice of the dash was sparkling. You knew the boy driving would look even better, you felt too nervous to even sneak a peek at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with a small laugh.

“Nothing,” you breathed. Your dad took himself back inside, leaving the two of you to go off on your endeavors. “I think I feel nervous to do this.”

Wooyoung settled his lips into a smile and faced the steering wheel, grasping the shifter with his right hand. “You’re allowed to be nervous. This stuff is wild.”

Pulling out of your neighborhood, one he’s definitely not used to though he wouldn’t show it, he took you out onto the main road and started for Nasara. From the southside of Tamoe to Delo, it took about an hour, and then once you were into Delo it took another half hour to get onto campus. Settling back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable, your lungs tighten in your chest at the realization that you were going to be stuck here with him for an hour and a half. The longest you’d have spent with him, sober, since last semester.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he looked over at you. “Ro, what’s up?”

Rubbing your hands over your thighs, you took a breath and shrugged, keeping your focus forward. “Nothing, just thinking about what I’m gonna tell him.”

Wooyoung curved his brows upward, focusing back on the road. When it got quiet, it was suffocating. He was here next to you. He drove an hour or so to your house, to pick you up, to bring you to school when your dad could’ve done it for you. The last time you’d seen him in person, maybe Thursday, in passing while walking to a business lecture where he told you he’d been passing you every Thursday since the semester started, you just never noticed. You’ve never had so much time to say so much, and it was overwhelming.

“Ro,” Wooyoung said again after a minute or so of silence aside from the radio.

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth and twisted in your seat, pulling your legs up onto the leather seat, fighting with the seatbelt in the process. Adjusting accordingly, frustratingly so, you tossed your hair backward once you were situated and groaned, finally looking at him and his amused little smile.

“Better?” he questioned with a subtle laugh.

Expressing your annoyance with an audible sigh, you clasped your hands together and placed them in your lap. “You want me to go off? I’ll go off.” With both hands, you shoved his shoulder and he gasped, grasping the wheel with both hands. “Fuck you. I cannot fucking believe that you’d do that to me. Do you know how embarrassing it was? Me and Tori walking into that bedroom to that?!” He shot you a confused look, bracing himself for impact again as he slowed at a red light.

“You and Yeji? After everything we shared all year, this is how you treat me? Sleeping with her? For what, Wooyoung, for what!” He hid his smile amidst your shouts, catching on quickly. Keeping quiet, he let you go off. “You piece of shit, you know everyone warned me, right? I should’ve fucking listened, that Jung Wooyoung doesn’t have a loyal bone in his body. I didn’t believe them, but guess who fucking does now?” 

Taking a breath, a laugh threatened to sneak through, and it almost did. It wasn’t until Wooyoung laughed first that yours boiled over and you lost it. Leaning against the seat, covering your face with your hands, you let out a sound of relief and looked up at him, baring his teeth, his laugh echoing within the tight space.

“How- How long have you been waiting to say that?” Catching his breath, he calmed himself the best he could as the traffic in front of him pulled away.

“Too long,” you said, shaking your head. “Months. Can you tell I had it rehearsed?” Wooyoung laughed again, loud, bobbing his head. “You really hurt me, yanno?”

He looked at you for as long as could while he drove, his smile wiping away in an instant. “I know,” he said. “And, I’m sorry. I’ll always be sorry, I don’t even know what to do to fix it all, but I promise you I’m gonna try.”

Glancing at the road, then finally allowing yourself to take in his appearance, the boy dripping in black and silver, you solemnly smiled. “Last Saturday was a huge help.” 

He huffed, shaking his head. “You can’t forgive me that fast, Ro. It was all so shitty, who the fuck does something like that?”

“Somebody who’s also hurting,” you said just above a whisper, shutting him up. He pulled his lips between his teeth and attempted to hide his sigh, but it was heard. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

“Whoa,” he said, screwing his face up. “No, don’t say that, are you kidding?” He met your eyes, another red light. The power within him was staggering. “I had the best. You understand that?” The small shake of your head could’ve physically pained him. “God, I could kill them all,” he muttered, facing the road to move with the other cars. “Ro, don’t let them make you feel like that. You used to be so carefree, you couldn’t give two shits about what someone said about you.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Wooyoung glanced at you, his eyes pointed. “It’s you. That’s what made me fall for you in the first place, are you kidding? You’re so different from any of those girls in that house.”

“I’m not like other girls,” you said, and his laugh made you laugh.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

Letting your eyes drag over his body, you said, “I don’t think I do. We never talked like this.”

“That’s the problem,” Wooyoung snapped a finger and let it fall onto the shifter. “We never talked like this, no one there does, we were doing what everyone else was doing, we were following a socially constructed system that does nothing for true connection.” Your silence made him look at you, and when he found your parted, surprised lips he smiled.

“You are smart,” you joked, and he shrugged, smug. “I knew you were smart, I hope you know that.”

“I do know,” he whispered, giving you a look.

“You sociology major, you,” you whispered back, smiling. He shared it with you for a second only.

“Ugh,” he groaned, looking at the road. “That’s also why I feel all the more shitty for doing what I did, because I knew what it would do to your brain, scientifically. And, I feel even worse for standing by, watching it happen. I could’ve ended it all so much faster, but I had faith that you’d figure it out, but it only got worse each time I saw you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to laugh. “Yeah, I fell into Seonghwa.”

Wooyoung tried to laugh with you. “Shoulda stepped in then, that’s how you know it��s going downhill.” Reaching out a hand, you put it over his where he worked the shifter, changing gears as he drove through Soro now. His breath hitched in his chest at your touch. “Ro, I know I said something Saturday night, but you were drunk, and I don’t know how much of that night you fully processed.”

Dragging your thumb over his olive skin, you felt the corner of your lips prick up. “That I may have gotten over you, but you’re not over me?” He released a breath like he’d been holding it in since you sat down. “Wooyo,” you whispered, and he turned his chin quickly, his eyes full of hope. “I’m not over you.”

His hand beneath yours flipped over, his fingers lacing between yours as he took the slowest deep breath. The car came to a stop and he laid his head back on his seat, closing his eyes for a few seconds. 

“I feel so silly,” he whispered. Giggling, he opened his eyes to shoot you a glare. “Don’t laugh at me.” Holding up your hand he was holding, you smiled behind your hands and got him to laugh. “You did this to me, I have never felt this, ever.”

“Like a teenager?” you offered, and his eyes went wide.

“Yes!” he shouted, throwing his head back with a groan. “Since I first saw you, Ro. When we were at the recruitment dinner, three years ago. We were freshmen.” He moved your hands toward you, “You were a pretty freshman,” he moved your hands toward himself, “I was a horny freshman.” Your giggle made him smirk. “We were at ATZ, somehow, and the moment I saw you in the group I just… You know which way my brain went first.”

“Of course,” you whispered, dancing your thumb over his skin. “I can tell you I was thinking the same things.”

He gave you that wide eyed look. “You were a horny freshman, too?!”

You laughed together. “‘Course I was, Wooyo, we were eighteen years old and let loose in a house full of boys like yourself, what do you think we’d be thinking about?”

Thinking to himself, he shrugged. “I dunno, innocent things, I guess.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, grinning wide. “What Tori and Mingi did that night was far from innocent.” The mention of your best friend pulled at your heart.

“I know, I know,” Wooyoung brushed it off. “That entire year though, I couldn’t figure it out. Girls don’t make me nervous, they make me the opposite, actually.”

“We know,” you whispered, and he tried to wiggle his fingers out of yours, but you held him captive. 

“You,” he said through his teeth. “You scared me.” He glanced at you and cringed. “Still kinda do.” This time you did get your hand free, and you shoved him like you did that first time. “Stop! I’m on the road, Ro!” You both laughed. Taking your hands back to yourself, he placed his over the shifter and sighed. “Want me to pull over? Then you can beat me to your heart's content?”

“I wouldn’t ever do that,” you said, touching his hand again. “Keep talking.”

“It was easy to be your friend at first. You already knew Yunho and Seonghwa, so that made it easier to approach you, when you were already talking to them, or hanging around them. I had a buffer, I could bounce off of them.”

“And you bounced,” you scoffed, and a cocky look spread about his face. “Do you know how crazy you would act? Freshman year? Even into our sophomore year, until we were a thing?”

“It’s ‘cause I liked you,” he said, nodding. “I wanted to impress you, I guess. Wanted your attention.” 

“Well, it worked.”

“It did,” he said. “For a little bit.” Your lips formed a pout, one he took his fingers to to mess it up, to make it go away. “Stop,” he whispered. “You didn’t even know.”

“That’s the thing, Wooyoung,” you said. “How did I not know? How did I not see… any of it. You, him, anything?”

The car came to a stop and he faced you. His hand slipped over your cheek, his thumb dragging along your cheekbone. “Socially constructed system. You were wound up in the fun of it all, you weren’t really paying attention, and that’s okay. I, unfortunately, have been blessed with a very emotionally intelligent mother, so I can… see it all. I’m aware.”

Your throat tightened. Begging yourself not to cry, not now, you gulped it away and asked, “How the hell do you have the reputation that you do?”

Blinking, he studied your face. “People see what they want to see. Look at San,” you both giggled, “Worlds biggest slut, and he knows it, but what do people see? The, probably hundreds now, body count? Or, the big, adorable, ditzy baby that is San?” He was right.

“I see the slut,” you whispered, and he smirked. “But, I get it, I also see the ditzy baby.”

You both realized he was touching you at the same time. Intaking a breath, you froze, and so did he. His fingers, soft, gentle on your skin, came to a stop. The air around you caved in, everything about this moment becoming so increasingly overwhelming, and heavy, like there was only one thing to do to get rid of that awful itch beneath your skin whenever he looked at you. You knew he could feel it too, you could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. God, you could jump on him, and you wanted to, and you knew he wanted you to.

A car behind you honked, pulling you both from that, now one thought, daze. Jumping a mile, you both twisted forward, Wooyoung moving along with the traffic around you. It took a couple seconds, but you both started to laugh.

After a few minutes of regaining your composures, Wooyoung asked, “Do you still believe them?”

Turning your chin, you looked at him and raised a brow. “What?”

“That I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t have a loyal bone in his body,” he whispered. “You said you believed them, then, I mean. What about now?” He gave you that hopeful look. “Do you still believe them?”

Reaching a hand over to mess with a few of his waves, smiling at the way it affected him, you toyed with his hoop earrings and shook your head. “I don’t,” you whispered, and his smile warmed your heart. “I believe you, I think, for now. Which is scaring me, just ‘cause of all that’s happened. So, please?”

He tilted his head. “Please?”

“Please be telling the truth.”

Taking your hand in his, he pressed his lips to the back of yours before he started to drive, whispering over your skin, “I promise.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[1lorenzo-lover1]

Ok, so, I’m assuming a lot of y’all have seen the httyd edit with the new Alex Warren song (the one that kills you on the inside) and all I can think of is if that edit was applied to Bucky.

Imagine with me if you will, you lived down the street from Bucky back in the 40’s, you hung out with him and Steve and right before the war he kisses you, promising he’ll come back.

That promise haunts him after he gets away from H.Y.D.R.A. All he can think about is you, but you’re long gone. (Or so he thinks)

Unknown to him, you are still alive, living a quiet life on the same street the two of you lived on when you were young. You assume you’ll spend the rest of your life living there, staying unnoticed, reliving your past life every night when you close your eyes, until you’re me day you dust off the old tv in your house and when you turn it on, you see the same face you see every night on the news, as a member of the new Avengers.

You debate with yourself for a long time. For a while you decide that he’s better off without you. That if he knew you were here you’d just bring up memories he didn’t want anymore.

After a year you finally decide that even if it’s selfish, you need to see him, the man you’ve loved for a hundred years.

You reach out to some woman with an obnoxiously long name, but she says to call her Val, and despite all of her arrogance, she agrees to let you into the tower.

When you get there it’s empty, the “New Avengers” are off on a mission, but Val says you can wait till they get back. So you do.

Finally, after hours of waiting, the elevator doors ding and open. You stand from the couch and wring your hand nervously as the team of people you don’t know walks out they notice you one by one, but since Bucky is talking to some overgrown man in a red suit when he looks up, and pauses. Staring at you like you’re holding a gun to his face.

Fuck.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Actually no. This is a bad idea.

You stand there. After a long beat of deafening silence across the room and questioning glances from person to person, you step forward a bit.

“James…”

He takes a step forward, staring and silent.

“I-I know this is…a lot.”

He takes another step.

“I…I should’ve come to see you sooner. I know that.”

He takes another step. Your heart starts beating like a drum and tears begin to well in your eyes.

“O-or maybe I should’ve stayed away,” you say with a quiver in your voice.

Another step.

“I’m sorry, James!” You sob.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve let you know. I should’ve came to you,” tears are flowing freely down your face. Everyone else win the room fades to decor as your eyes focus only on him.

“B-but I thought you’d be better off without me. Without the memories,” you nearly plead.

He steps forward again and before you know it, he standing in front of you. So close you can nearly feel his breath on your face.

“Say something, James. Please. Shout, scream, anything!”

And before you notice the movement, his hand is on your cheek.

“…You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you,” he nearly whispers.

Hope y’all enjoyed this random scribble :)

[anotherbrahmsfangirl]

Musical Eavesdropping

Brahms Heelshier x Unnamed Fem!Nanny

Warnings/Tags: some swear words, 'Nanny' is a bit of a potty mouth when frustrated Word Count: about 3.5k Authors Note: I have often daydreamed about what Brahms reaction to modern music would be. I included a variety (IMO) of songs that either reminded me of Brahms, or felt Brahms would like, or frankly, would be funny to see Brahms react to. Slipped in some possibly future story building elements too. Feel free to click the musical notes to hear the songs Brahms hears, or not, your choice. it shouldn't affect the story. Enjoy!

"Malcolm! Buddy... Pal... you gotta help me. I'm losing my MIND here!" She begged while whipping open the mudroom door for her weekly visitor.

"Well, good morning to you too." Laughed the friendly, dark-haired delivery man, a look of delighted shock at the sudden unconventional greeting he got. Shuffling past her, he walked over to the kitchen table and set down the heavy crate full of that week's groceries. "The peaceful country life finally got the better of ya?" He cocked an eyebrow as he fished an envelope out of his vest pocket. Her monthly stipend from the Heelshire's.

"The solitude I can handle." she snatched the envelope from him. "But I'm sick to death of the lack of entertainment." She dug around in the crate, unloading jars and cans, setting them on the table.

"If it's entertainment you crave, I could always pop in and entertain you." Malcolm leaned on the counter, his tone laced with a cheeky double entendre. She had, to date, shot him down several times, but he found it amusing to tease her. A glimmer of hope that perhaps one of these times she may take him up on the offer. Though for now, seeing her flustered at his jabs would suffice.

She paused for a beat, giving him an exasperated sigh. "You KNOW what I mean... no radios, no tv. Hell, I can't even connect to the internet on my phone. Besides,  you know the rules, no "guests." She held up her hands to make air quotes with her fingers. "I'm still not convinced there aren't hidden cameras around this place. I always feel like I'm being watched. Don't want to jeopardize my paycheck."

"Or anger the "spirits." He added on with air quotes of his own.

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement, rifling through the crate. "Oh nice! You brought more of those little fruit chews I like! Thank you!"

Malcolm folded his arms, watching her unpack. "You really do believe this place is haunted, don't you?"

She paused, looking to him, a piece of candy at the ready. "Well, what would you call it when items go missing, or end up in places you know you didn't set them. And what about the creeks, the thumps, and bumps? Remember when I told you I heard a child's voice that one time?" She popped the fruit chew into her mouth.

"I'd call that poor memory and the wind in an old house... maybe an overactive imagination, hmm?" He set off the counter, grabbing a few cans to put away in the pantry. A loud thud knocked against the wall inside the closet right as Malcolm set the last can on the shelf.

She locked eyes with him, a shit eating grin on her face. "Ghosts!" She whispered excitedly.

He rolled his eyes at her and shut the door with a loud slam."Vermin, more like." He hoped the noise would scare off whatever critter took up residence in the wall.

"Anyway..." she opened the envelope and pulled out a handful of 20 pound notes, shoving them into his hands. "Could you do me a solid and get me a speaker, Bluetooth preferably. Nothing big or fancy. It's just... my phone's getting old, and everything sounds so tinny on it. I have earbuds, but they keep falling out. One size fits all my butt." She grumbled the last part.

He blinked in surprise before counting and then folding the notes into his pocket. "Can do. I'll bring it with my next delivery. Anything else you'd like? A telly, perhaps?"

She playfully shoved him. "Just the speaker. Don't get me wrong, I love classical music as much as anyone else, but I'm about done with all the opera and orchestral records." Another loud thud hit a wall in the kitchen, both pausing to look around silently.

"And I'm sure 'Brahms' is due for an updated music selection." Malcolm laughed, breaking the tension. He referred to the almost life-size doll that she was tasked to nanny while the Heelshire's were on holiday for the next few months, but also possibly the spirit of the dead child whom the doll was crafted to replace.

"I do have some instrumental pieces I bet he'd love. Mostly from movies." She gave a small wistful sigh. "I just know he'd love the music from the Miyazaki films." ♪

Malcolm pursed his lips and nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels slightly. "Well then.. I best be off." He said, gathering up the now empty crate and making his way to the door. "Don't worry, I'll get you a nice speaker. Maybe even drop it off before the next delivery." He paused, his hand on the door handle. "Do you..." his fingers nervously tapped on the door frame. "Do you suppose maybe I could get at least one dance when I bring it, you know, for the effort?"

She chuckled, a small blush forming on her cheeks. He was nothing if not persistent. His big puppy dog eyes and awkwardness, she had to admit, was charming. "I suppose. One dance couldn't hurt." She said finally.  Yet another knock thudded out in the kitchen walls, this time strong enough to shake the door. "Rodents of unusual size." He said jokingly, both laughing. "Either that or Brahms is getting impatient for his breakfast." She added.

She walked him outside and leaned on the mudroom door frame as he loaded back up into the truck and started to back out of the side driveway that forked off from the main one. "Thank you as always for the groceries, I'll see you soon!" She called out, waving him off. Turning back into the kitchen, she gasped and rammed her back against the wall. Sitting at the end of the table was the doll, his lifeless glass eyes staring out vacantly into the room. By his tiny porcelain hand was the sheet of rules, one in particular circled in red ink. "NO GUESTS". Had she not been experiencing paranormal occurrences for the past few weeks, this display would have rattled her to her core, but now that she had accepted that the soul of a bratty little 8yo boy inhabited this house, she took it as yet another one of his temper tantrums.

"Oh, for Pete's sakes, Brahms... it's ONE dance! I'm not marrying the guy!" At this, the lights in the kitchen flickered on and off, more pounding thuds seemed to fill the kitchen. "Whatever!" She shouted back out to the empty room and folded her arms over her chest with a huff. It was then that she noticed the bag of candies were gone, leaving only a few of the chews scattered on the table. "YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Brahms stalked through the tight passages of the walls. He stewed over the conversation from earlier. 'Who did that bastard, Malcolm, think he was?! She's told him many times she wasn't interested! He just didn't know when to quit! And how dare she agree to a dance with that man...and  in HIS house!' He clutched the bag of fruit candies in his hand as he roamed around the walls, slipping one of the treats up behind his mask to chew it aggressively. 

His mind filled with thoughts of how to break up their little rendezvous. She didn't seem terribly put off by his ghost boy routine, nor did Malcolm. Though he found comfort in her not being afraid. He chuckled to himself. He liked her spunk, the fact that she would talk to 'him' or herself wandering around the house with the doll as she did her chores. It really made it feel like they were together despite the barrier of walls. Even his own mother didn't prattle on like this one did. It helped fill in the days, and he always wanted to be by her side to hear more of her melodious voice.

Especially when she sang. All day long, he heard her singing or humming a tune throughout the manor. He recalled the sad folksy love song ♪ she sang to herself as she waited to be interviewed by his mother for the nanny position. That song, along with her knowledge of poetry and love of reading, was what truly sealed the deal. The fact she was young and pretty, unlike the previous applicants, helped immensely. He couldn't have wished for a more perfect match.

He often daydreamed about accompanying her little songs with his violin or with the piano in the study. He paused his pacing and leaned against the inner wall. How he loved her voice. Surely, this was a sign that she was the one. Now, he just needed a plan to reveal himself without sending her running and a way to scare off Malcolm...for good.

Placing her earbuds in, she flipped through her phone to find a fun, energetic song to start her off while she cleaned. From 10a till 11a was 'Chores' as instructed by the schedule that was left to her by Mr. Heelshire. She relished this time as it meant she didn't have to do anything specific with the doll and could freely roam around dusting or vacuuming. And what better excuse to listen to HER music for a change. Today's lucky room to get the maid treatment was the parlor room. She began dusting around the delicate furnishings with the stick duster, often pausing her cleaning to use the handle as a makeshift microphone. "Baby, baby, know you like to tow the line, If you're fed up, I can come and occupy, Let's get crazy, Let's get into trouble tonight." ♪ she sang out loudly.

Two rooms away, Brahms stirred from his inner musings. His nanny had moved to the parlor and was singing! Quickly, he made his way through the labyrinth to a spot where a couple of peep holes were strategically carved out. Pressing tightly against the inner wall, he watched as she danced around the room, flicking her wrist and dusting along the wooden panels of the far wall. What entertainment! He could watch her all day, but he especially loved to see her dancing around and belting out loudly to whatever song was playing in her ears. He was also glad that one of her senses was gone. It meant he could make as much noise as he wanted when she listened to her music. "And youuuuuu Can't deny it! You know you're such a good boy, good boy. I want to make you my toy, my toy."

Brahms heart thumped, hearing her sing the words 'good boy' sent a shiver through him. He imagined she was singing this directly to him. "I'll be your good boy." He answered, pleased to hear his own voice so close to her. Brahms braced his hands on the slats. It would be so easy to reach out, comb his fingers through her silky hair, brush his hands across her delicate skin. The urge to hold and kiss her grew stronger day by day. Every fiber in him desired this woman. Too long had he endured the solitude of the walls, yet still, he hesitated.

Reaching into the pocket of his cardigan, he palmed a folded up letter. One he had read and reread several times since it arrived the previous day. The unmistakable scrawl of his mother's meticulous cursive informing him that they would not be coming back this time. That the woman they hired, the one he so enthusiastically approved, was now his to love and care for. He felt his throat tightening. The pain of the farewell combined with their blessing for the both of them was bitter sweet.

A sudden shift in her singing alerted Brahms, and his attention moved back to the object of his desires. She now had a rag in her hand and was picking up the decor to wipe the dust off the figurines and along the mantle. He crept closer and found another spot to observe. From this angle, he could look at her straight on, it was as close to face to face as he'd gotten to see her in days. His heart lept, a nervous jitter consumed him. "Kiss me beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor. Lift your open hand, strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So kiss me." ♪

Brahms pressed his forehead to the wall and moaned out her name. "Once we're together, all of your kisses and dances will be with me..." He paused, his mood souring a touch as he thought again of Malcolm's request. "And ONLY me."

Looking around the room, pleased at the progress she was making, she paused and fished her phone from her pocket. With a few swipes and clicks, she found another song to jam out, to. Turning, she grabbed the vacuum and plugged it in, the ancient appliance roared to life with a deafening sound.

Brahms scowled behind the wall, the vacuum was drowning her out. Curiously, however, her dancing became more erratic, she shifted on her feet, tossing her head about, her hair swaying wildly in the air. He pondered what kind of music she was listening to now that would evoke such a wild dance. During one of her exaggerated head bobs, he caught the sight of one of her earbuds flying off and rolling under an end table near one of his many hidden entrances into the wall.

She came to a sudden stop as she felt the bud dislodge and go flying across the room. "Damnit! Not again!" She did a quick scan of the floor near her feet before she switched off the vacuum to continue her search. Dropping to her hands and knees, she searched around under a nearby table and chair for her missing bud.

While she was distracted, Brahms carefully slid the false panel to the side, trying not to alert her to his presence. He stuck his hand out and snatched up the little device. Back in the wall, he held up the light purple, bean shaped, earbud. What luck! At last, he could hear what she was listening to! He slid it into his ear, the same side she wore it on, and his ear was filled with a high energy rhythmic thumping. ♪  Never had he heard such music. The synthetic instruments didn't sound like any he had ever heard before. He turned and peered through the slats of the wall, checking to see what she was doing now.

Standing with her hands on her hips, still looking over the floor, she gave out a frustrated sigh. "Perfect! Just perfect!" She fumed. Her shoulders slumped before she threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Fuck it!" Pulling out her phone she clicked onto a new song.

A few beats began before a male voice began to scream loudly into Brahms ear. Startled, he ripped the bud from his ear. 'What the hell kind of music was this?' He thought, looking back through the wall and hearing the vacuum kick back on. 'Did she actually enjoy listening to those gutteral screams?' Carefully, he pressed the plug back into his ear and was pleased to hear the screaming had stopped. The singer now sang about losing his mind to the noises in his head accompanied by thundering guitar and drums. ♪  The song raged on with a few more screaming sections, and it soon came to an abrupt end. Brahms shook his head. He didn't mind parts of it, specifically the more harmonious parts, but he felt the screaming was unnecessary and frankly, jarring.

A pause of silence, and then another song began. Brahms ears perked as the beginning was the lively plinks of a piano being played. A cheery upbeat tune that was quite the difference from the last song. Soon, drums and guitars followed as the singer described a woman', whom Brahms assumed to be the singers lover, as a rainbow, full of colors. ♪ Nodding his head along with the beat, Brahms cast his sight back through a spy hole. SHE was like his rainbow, filling his grey dreary life with light and color.

He slid back against the wall, settling down on the grimy floor fascinated by all the new music he was finally getting to experience. Her selection varied quite a bit, from a slow romantic ballad accompanied by beautiful violin that made his heart pang ♪, to a menacing sounding piece with dark lyrics about the singer's obsessed addiction to a woman ♪ followed by a hauntingly somber song about a man haunted by his deceased bride ♪. Closing his eyes, he felt a new connection to her, her music selection telling him more about her personality than he could glean from just watching her through the walls.

She moved around the room, polishing the wooden tables, fluffing the pillows, wiping down the lamp shades all the while dancing and singing along with certain parts.

As the next song began, Brahms head shot up. A familiar tune! Instant nostalgia transported him to his childhood and the days when Emily Cribbs would come and visit the Heelshire manor. Many times, she would bring a record of music for them to listen to. This song, about a magical dragon named Puff ♪, was one they played often. His chest clenched, the thought of Emily rushing back. Gripping his head, he shook it vigorously, trying to stop the memories from resurfacing. 'No! It was going to be different this time! 'She' was nothing like Emily!'

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he blinked hard, forcing them out. Pulling up his mask, he dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets.

"Stop it" He hissed as quietly as he could, pressing his head harder into his hands. Hoping the motion would force the bad thoughts out somehow. Just as he was about to pull the headphone out and toss it away, the song cut off suddenly, plunging him into silence. Scrambling to his knees, he peered through the slats. 'She must be done.' He thought, searching for her in the parlor and finding it empty. Listening carefully, he picked up that she was returning to the kitchen. With a rabbits quickness, he followed behind.

Sighing, she pulled her single earbud out and snapped it back in it's case. She hated losing anything normally, but to lose the matching earbud made it almost impossible to lose herself in the music. Checking her phone, it was almost time for Brahms' play hour. Rolling her head, releasing a few snaps of tension, she went to the fridge and poured herself a drink. "Good thing Malcolm's getting me that speaker. I can't believe I lost that earbud again." She pouted and sat heavily at the table, sipping her juice. "Hey Brahms, how about some phone games today?" She called out to the empty room, holding up her phone and waving it slightly. "Hope your parents don't flip that you got some screen time with me, but I'm bushed from all that cleaning. It'll be our little secret." Finishing up her drink, she made her way up the stairs to the room where she left doll Brahms while she cleaned.

Plopping down into the rocking chair and setting the doll on her lap, she opened up her games folder on her phone and mindlessly tapped away at the screen. After a few offline games of solitaire and merge jewels, she mentally checked the "play hour" off her list. "I don't know about you, Brahms, but I'm ready for some lunch! What sounds appetizing?" She peered down at the doll propped up on her thigh. His ever unblinking stare and silence giving her the opportunity to answer for him. "What's that? Mac n cheese? Paired with a glass of wine from the cellar? How'd you guess that's my favorite!" She hoisted up the doll onto her hip and made her way back downstairs.

As she rounded the corner, entering the kitchen, she noticed her missing ear bud sitting right in the center of the wooden table, next to its case. Scattered around it were a few more candy pieces from earlier. Setting the doll on a chair, she slowly walked over and picked up the missing bud, placing it back in the case to charge. Clutching it to her chest, her eyes misted over with grateful tears. "Thank you, Brahms." She whispered softly, wiping a tear from her eye.

[galaxysupreme17]

YAY! ok thank you!

could you write an aubrey plaza x daughter r? could she be 17 please?

she's a bit of a loner at school, only one friend. but her friend is becoming weirder (like ditching her sometimes and just pushing away almost).

she's always been close to her mom. always wanting to be with her but now that her friend is pushing away, she never has any plans or any activities to do other than homework, so now she is alwwaaaayyss with her when she can be. she's just comforting. always has been. can u add cuddles pleaaaase

THANK YOU!!! <3

Chapter: The Storm

A/n: I really enjoyed writing this one! If you want me to either continue this with a few more chapters or like write more about this I gladly will! Just let me know!

It was one of those days where the sky stayed gray, like it had been holding its breath all morning. The kind of day where even the hallways of school felt heavier, thick with voices that weren’t yours, eyes that never met yours, and footsteps that always passed you by.

Y/n Plaza sat at her usual corner table in the news room, hunched over her laptop. The sound of rain had just started to tap gently against the windows, a warning whisper of the storm rolling in. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, editing the grainy photos she’d taken of the junior class assembly the week before. Her earbuds were in, but she wasn’t listening to music anymore—just the dull hum of nothing, a buffer between her and the echoing silence of the room.

For the past few weeks, this was her sanctuary. It had started after Hannah joined the track team. First it was just a few missed lunches, a “Sorry! Practice ran late, next time!” text here and there. Then it was lunch skipped altogether. A quick wave in the hall. A text that went unanswered for hours, sometimes days. And then today.

Y/n looked at the clock again. 4:13 p.m. Hannah was supposed to meet her at 3:30. They were finally going to hang out. Just like old times. Y/n had even picked out her favorite playlist for the car ride home, old indie songs and film scores they used to talk over, laughing until the music drowned them out. But the parking lot had emptied. And she was still here.

She refreshed her messages. Nothing. The storm picked up.

By 4:30, she gave up.

The car ride home was quiet. The windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm, almost like a metronome to her thoughts: stupid stupid stupid. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel. Her heart ached with something sharp and dull all at once—a betrayal too quiet for anyone else to notice, but big enough that it took up all the space in her chest.

She pulled into the driveway, headlights slicing through the rain. The front porch light was already on, glowing warm and safe. Home.

Inside, Aubrey Plaza was sprawled on the couch in sweatpants and a hoodie, one arm thrown lazily over the backrest, the other clutching the remote. The TV played quietly, some documentary on haunted houses, half-watched. She turned her head when she heard the door open.

“Hey, peanut,” she called casually. “You’re home late. Everything okay?”

Y/n didn’t answer. She closed the door softly behind her, kicked off her soaked sneakers, and dropped her backpack by the stairs. Her shoulders were slouched, hair slightly frizzy from the humidity, eyes red-rimmed behind her glasses.

Aubrey immediately muted the TV and sat up, alert. “Y/n?”

But Y/n didn’t respond. She just walked over and climbed onto the couch, slow and silent, like she was made of glass. She curled into her mom, resting her head on Aubrey’s stomach, her face hidden.

Aubrey’s arms moved instinctively. One hand cradled the back of Y/n’s head, the other began combing gently through her damp hair.

“Oh, sweetie,” Aubrey murmured. “You okay?”

Y/n shook her head, barely a movement. Just enough.

Aubrey didn’t push her. Instead, she reached for the remote and navigated through the menu. “Coraline?” she asked softly.

A barely-there nod.

The opening chords of the film played, and for a while, that was all there was. The eerie lullaby of the soundtrack, the glow of the screen, and the sound of the storm hammering outside like it had something to prove.

Y/n didn’t cry. She just stayed there, curled against her mom, eyes open but unfocused. Aubrey rested her chin gently on the crown of Y/n’s head.

“She bailed, huh?” Aubrey asked after twenty minutes, her voice careful.

Another small nod.

Aubrey sighed, her fingers still weaving through Y/n’s hair. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“She said she’d be there,” Y/n mumbled, voice muffled against her hoodie. “I waited for over an hour.”

“I know.”

“I just feel so dumb.”

“You’re not dumb. You’re one of the smartest, kindest people I’ve ever met. And I’ve met Amy Poehler.”

That earned the smallest of huffs.

Aubrey smiled. “There she is. My sarcastic little marshmallow.”

“I just… I don’t get it,” Y/n whispered. “I didn’t do anything wrong. She just… stopped caring.”

“That’s not on you,” Aubrey said. “Sometimes people get caught up in their own little worlds. It’s not fair, and it’s not right, but it happens. You didn’t mess anything up. You’re just growing in a different direction than she is.”

“It hurts,” Y/n admitted, voice cracking.

Aubrey kissed the top of her head. “Of course it does. Losing a friend like that? That’s heartbreak, baby. It doesn’t have to be romantic to hurt.”

“I thought I could be okay with it,” she went on, finally lifting her head and looking at her mom. “But it’s like… I don’t fit anywhere anymore.”

“You fit here,” Aubrey said, placing a hand over Y/n’s chest. “With me. Always.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

Y/n blinked quickly, a tear slipping down her cheek. Aubrey gently wiped it away with her thumb, then pulled her closer again. The storm outside grew louder, lightning flashing against the windows.

Aubrey grabbed the soft fleece blanket draped over the couch and wrapped it around both of them, tugging Y/n securely into her arms. “Let’s just stay right here. I’ll make popcorn later. You can pick another movie after this one.”

“I like it here,” Y/n whispered.

Aubrey smiled. “Me too. Best seat in the house.”

They sat like that through the rest of Coraline, curled up like they were the only two people in the world. And maybe, for tonight, they were.

[humblequestvinyl]

halloween

HALLOWEEN, FISHER!BROTHERS X SISTER!READER

APART OF THE ‘WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER SERIES’ 

SUMMARY: when it’s susannah fishers favorite holiday, the youngest fisher tries to honor her mother, but it’s impossible when she feels haunted by it.

inspired by halloween by noah kahan

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase intentional! wc: 1.7k

warnings: implied/written in age (because it is the youngest fisher) HEAVY drinking, fem love interest! a breakdown, mentions of death, swearing

a/n: HELLOOO this is connecting to the view between villages blurb, so if you haven’t read that pls do! if you don’t no worries either!! loving this series so far omgomgomg also this desc isnt great (sorry) & BACK TO DECEMBER TV IN THE TRAILER IM LOSING IT.

IT WAS LESS THAN A WEEK LATER WHEN SUSANNAH’S FAVORITE HOLIDAY CAME,

and it would be the first year the fisher siblings wouldn’t be able to spend it with her.

it was late in the afternoon as y/n sat down on the beach, sipping on the only beer conrad had picked up the entire time they had been in cousin’s, waiting for her brothers to come back from the store.

it had been over an hour since they had left, and throughout that entire time, Y/N had stayed in the same place, drifting off to a place she always feared. she had seen it happen to other people, and always heard about it but had never experienced it herself.

the girl broke out of her thoughts as she heard footsteps heading towards her, and her head snapped behind her, seeing conrad walking towards her with a beer in his hand.

“is that for me?”she questioned as he sat next to her, and he chuckled before shaking his head and taking a sip of it. “you’re not even supposed to be drinking that.”

“maybe don’t leave beer where the sixteen year old can get it.”y/n shrugged, before the two sat silently, with an understanding that’s how it had to be right now to even try and get through the girl.

conrad and y/n always understood each other. maybe it was because they both had aquarius sun’s, or it was conrad knew how y/n felt when she quit volleyball just because of their father. ruining the one thing she truly loved the most besides her mom and cousins beach.

the two watched as the waves crashed against the sand, and fizzled out, representing the feeling the two felt.

y/n always joked that when they were talking about what taylor swift songs represented them, he was the archer, and she was the one who was trying, while jeremiah a mirrorball.

the three fisher siblings; the one who never grew up, the one who got wasted like all of her potential, and the one who when they break, it's in a million pieces.

“what do you think belly, laurel and steven are doing right now?”y/n asked quietly after a while, and conrad chuckled, taking another sip of his beer before the two heard a voice behind them.

“laurel’s probably writing while belly’s with taylor, and steven i know for a fact is with their dad.”jeremiah spoke up, and y/n watched as he sat next to her, sipping a can of coke the fisher boys had picked up at the store.

“what are our plans for tonight?”jer questioned, and y/n looked back towards the water, with emptiness filling her.

“there’s a party going on down the shore at michael’s.”y/n spoke up, and she saw the look both of her brothers were giving her, knowing where she was talking about was some weird guy who was only popular because his parents had money.

“after last summer you still wanna go there?”conrad questioned, and y/n shrugged, not really caring as long as there was alcohol, “i’m going either way.”

the two fisher brothers watched as she stood up, and walked back towards the house with an empty bottle of beer in her hand, and more grief than anyone could have imagined.

“we’re both in agreement she’s not going to that party right?”jeremiah questioned, watching as conrad took a sip of his beer, before doing a quick nod.

“absolutely.”

—

SOMEHOW WITHOUT HER BROTHERS KNOWING, Y/N ENDED UP AT THE PARTY.

with a red solo cup in her hand, and shitty synth-pop music blaring through the speakers that were in the living room, the h/c felt like she had succeeded in her mission of escaping her brothers.

she was sick and tired of their worried looks, and them wanting her to be okay when in reality nothing was okay. it was in absolute shambles, and scattered everywhere in little shards, almost like a mirrorball.

memories that once glimmered and brought the girl so much joy, now stabbed her and opened up a new wound everytime she thought about it.

like dress shopping for the deb ball.

this year was supposed to be her year to do it. this was the year she was supposed to pick out her white dress, learn how to courtesy, how to have the proper manners, and to be escorted out and to dance with whoever she chose. as her mother always said, it was her turn to be ‘in bloom’.

instead, she felt like she was shriveled up and dead. she felt like those flowers that you had left out in the sun for too long, never gave any water to, and when you finally remembered that you had them, they were depressing looking, with the petals falling apart.

taking a sip of whatever alcohol she had in her cup, her nose scrunched as it burned going down, knowing this was a constant cycle of today. y/n didn’t know how many she had already, and she didn’t really care as long as it ended with her being passed out drunk later that night.

she had been there for almost two hours, and the room was already spinning on her. stumbling towards the kitchen, the girl finished her drink before going to pour another before blue eyes met hers, and she stopped.

“how many have you had already?”the girl in front of her questioned, and y/n placed the bottle of vodka down on the counter, and pursed her lips as she stayed silent for a few moments.

“who cares emerson.”y/n finally spoke up, watching as the girl in front of her pulled her brunette hair back into a low ponytail, just like she always did.

emerson scott. the girl from last summer y/n had spent as much time as she could with, when both girls weren’t working or at the beach. the girl who had shown up for her when others didn’t.

the girl she loved the most.

“well, obviously me.”emerson pulled the red solo cup away from the girl, and leaned on the counter, “i don’t want you to get alcohol poisoning.”

“yeah well i do.”y/n stated as emerson handed her a bottle of water to try and lessen the girls hangover, “at this point, i’d love it.”

“well too bad.”emerson told her, and y/n rolled her eyes, not really giving a shit on what the girl in front of her thought.

“will you let me take you home?”the brunette questioned, causing y/n to glare at the sixteen year old, not wanting to leave and go back to the beach house she was convinced was haunted.

“absolutely not.”y/n denied, before starting to walk away, but emerson was right by her side, “emerson i’m serious.”

“i know you are n/n.”emerson told the youngest fisher as she walked through the house to get towards the exit, and started to walk out, “if you’re going to leave can you at least let me get you ice cream or something?”

“why!”y/n threw her arms up in frustration, wanting nothing more than to be left alone and down her sorrows, “i’m not going home and i’m sure as hell not in the mood for you to say we’re not going back to my house and then we end up fucking there!”

“y/n,”emerson gently grabbed ahold of the girls hand, trying to make sure she didn’t stumble into the street in her drunken state, “i’m being serious. if you don’t want to go back we won’t. i wouldn’t lie about that.”

“everyone fucking says that!”the h/c cursed, as her bottom lip quivered, “first it was conrad who told me last summer that everything was fine, and dad just had to go on a trip on the fourth when in reality my parents were getting a divorce because my dad is a piece of shit!”

“next it was my dad who claims he’s not disappointed in me for quitting volleyball when every time he looks at me it’s filled with disappointment and makes me feel like a failure!”she yelled, ripping her hand away from emerson, as she continued on her rant, “finally it was mom who said that her cancer wasn’t back, but guess-fucking-what! she lied because now she’s six feet under in some cemetery in brighton!”

“i’m sick and tired of being lied to because everytime someone lies to me, it ends up going to shit!”she screamed, before a sob escaped her lips, and emerson wrapped the girl in a tight hug.

“i can’t do it anymore emmy.”the girl cried, clutching onto the brunette tightly, “i can’t continue being fucking lied to.”

it was awhile before the e/c girl sobs turned into cries, and those cries turned into whimpers, and emerson was able to get the girl into her car, with taylor swift playing softly in the background.

my tears ricochet started to play, and y/n looked out the window as emerson had started to drive away to god knows where, but y/n didn’t care. she watched as they exited out of cousin’s, and towards the city y/n adored so much.

boston.

the remaining fisher girl watched as a murder of crows flew over the skyline of boston as they entered it, and the city of boston reminded y/n of a ghost town. 

as they entered the city, presumably to just drive around and get the girl away from cousins, her eyes started to become heavy, and she slowly fell asleep as the sound of taylor swift’s voice reminded her of a soft lullaby.

emerson looked over at the girl, seeing her finally be relaxed since her mom had passed, and a small frown was placed on the blue eyed girl’s lips.

it wasn’t halloween, but the ghost of susannah fisher knew how to haunt y/n.

[theehorsepusssy]

TheeHorsepussys Portland : Vaseline Alley aka Stark Street aka Harvey Weinstein ( I always get that mixed up) Harvey Milk Blvd

Documenting some gay-ass history for the kids

Red Arrow - 2 blocks to Touche. Not gay but spent most of the 90s in that bar. Fancy looking dining room/pool room but mostly service industry clientele. Hard to find a spot to do drugs discreetly.

Green - Everyday Music. Where to sell vinyl for dope money.

Yellow - Big BIG abandoned, scary building. Looked haunted. Was eventually renovated. But gave you the heebie-jeebies walking past it at night. Gay bashing zone

Green Arrow - The City Nightclub. Underage nightclub. Chicken Hawks(is that Gus Van Sant?), lots of drugs, good DJ downstairs, GREAT DJ upstairs

Red - The Henry Weinhard Brewery (demolished) Made the area smell really, really awful. Gagging thinking of it.

(Stark Street starts to the right here. It looks like they built some weird barrier in the intersection..probably cuz drunk gays in middle of street)

Orange - The Bathhouse. Home away from home. I would sell rip-off size bags of meth to subsidize my habit. Sucked a huge penis here. Gagging thinking of it. Gay bar downstairs was called either Flossies or Silverado or both. Male strippers. Would buy my shitty little bags of dope.

Blue Arrow - at one moment in the 90s, a sex club I think owned by Fantasy Video. Robert would meet his side piece there . The director Todd Haynes, I fuzzily recall reading, was a patron. I went once. Weird vibe. There was a plaque on the wall outside the entrance commemorating the recording of Louie, Louie.

Orange - The Eagle. Bar where it was common to have sex. I saw a guy take a foot up his butt. Cops started randomly coming in to cock block. There is a new bar called the Eagle up in NE Portland up by the Heroin Fred Meyer (I suppose they all are now)

Blue - Transient hotel above the store I hated buying cigarettes from but can't recall why. Maybe it was expensive.

Green - Greasy spoon called Roxys. Horrible breakfast food 24/7. I think it used to be down the street on Everett. Had a tiny basement bar. Moved to Vaseline Alley in 90s. Had ginormous picture of Quentin Tarantino or some shit. Very 90s

Yellow - Three Sisters (Six Titties) dive bar/gay bar. Never really went there. At some point was a male strippers bar. Robert had me escort one of his side pieces there. Kid thought the stripper was really into him. I tried to explain. I won $600 on the poker machine and drove the kid home.

Orange - Django Records. Large amounts of cheap used records. 3 for a dollar bins! I bought Eyehategod In the Name of Suffering here. Also the Cruising soundtrack...33cents!

Red - Fancy, expensive hotel. Yell really loud underneath the windows. They like that. Cops always parked along this stretch. Drunk gays got their first DUIs around here.

Mint- block of amnesia. I don't think it existed

Red - Boxes. Gay bar where you did lines of coke/mda/meth in the bathroom without hassle. TV sets with Oprah or Steel Magnolias, shit like that on. Spartacus Leather fetish store was down a couple doors. Inside Boxes, you could take a wood paneled passage through the fish restaurant kitchen ( I don't think anyone ever ate there) and end up at.....

Green - the Brig. Named because dance floor had bars around it like a jail cell. Imagine the creative dance moves as the queens grappled bars, ass out while Madonna songs played on a loop. Your meth dealer could be found here, doing a fan dance. Don't wear black. Semen stains show up under the blacklights. (or do)

Yellow - the house paint store. Eventually became the Panorama in the age of MDMA. Rave type music. Went there once to meet a dealer. Obnoxious experience.

White - Silverado. Country Western night most nights. My roommate dj'd andtaught line dancing but dance floor was like 10 sq ft so it was just the gays holding hands and boot scootin' in a little circle for eternity. Bar I could get into underage.

Orange - Ben Stark Hotel. Like outta Barton Fink. But really,really seedy. Had some weird sex in there. Now a boutique hotel owned by some Donald Trump guy Gordon Someone who did something once. Probably haunted.

Brown - Scandals. Beer /wine bar. Big windows so you can people-watch and talk shit. Used to go in there underage until I got thrown out snorting a rail of MDA off the tabletop. Had electronic darts and video poker in the 90s. Me and Robert had a domestic dispute there.

Red - row of funky vintage/antique shops. Someone used to broadcast a pirate radio station somewhere around there in the 90s

Blue - Portland Underground. Small venue had some big shows early 90s. Top floor is where I swear I saw Econochrist play. But it's an office building. Maybe confused

Yellow. OBryant Square aka Paranoid Park. Skateboarders and street drugs. I got "chased" by AF Nazis here. Probably more like I ran my fat ass up the street after this girl I knew screamed "run!" And they probably just laughed. I didn't look back. I think it's demolished now.

White arrow- up the block toward the Galleria. Second floor toilet was really cruisy. Careful of cockblocking rent-a-cops. Kiosk by cafe I think was only place downtown to buy pipe to smoke pot

[unlikelyjapan]

Finales for Michael + Claire

Yo - someone has already broken down that the last/second-last images in each season finale were basically the same, right?

At any rate, I'm going do it again, because my tiny brain only mashed these two things together today. Apologies for the lack of stills.

We have flashback Mikey looking at Carmen reverently in sunlight-sepia hues at the close of season 1, then a big smile, hot on the heels of Carmy genuinely connecting with everyone at family meal - it lets Mikey's belief in his brother linger over the finale, a sense of continuation and partial closure.

The quixotic part of Radiohead's Letdown blasts us off to the credits. IMO, it was one of the most hopeful and tenderhearted moments in TV history.

In the season 2 finale we have flashback Claire, sepia-hued with her coy smile immediately cutting to a dejected Carmy in the walk-in as the welder creates "fireworks" akin to what we see behind them in Pop. There's a sense of continuation, but no closure - it just tells the audience to settle in for more regression in S3, just as we thought we were out of the woods with that experiment.

Michael Stipe walks us out with "Go it alone and haul it along" before it cuts to Syd, proud and abandoned, the song progressing into the credits.

I always felt like that last, longing look from Claire was the biggest crotch-kick from the Storer universe - it felt like an erasure of all the progress and connecting-of-dots that Carmy was working out throughout the latter half of the season, and I guess that's the material point of it all.

Maybe we have to watch this man chase familial myths and phantoms for another season, to the detriment of The Bear, his happiness, his earnest relationship with Syd, and everyone else around him. I'm not sure if he'll actually try to repair things with Claire in a fit of desperation/self-doubt, but it seems like she'll haunt him through his inevitable breakdown at a minimum.

I'm curious about how the writers engineer this without the audience feeling perpetually flogged. I also wonder how they will manage to empower Syd until Carmy starts putting shit together again.

I wish I had more endearing sydcarmy parallels to offer here tonight, but this was eating at me and now someone in the fandom needs to talk me off a ledge.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Forever Home Masterlist (2)

part one, part two

a wand and a rabbit (ao3) - CloudyPhan

Summary: just a silly little one part about a cute morning in the phouse. combining my 2 current obsessions song: Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan.

attired to defy (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: One of Dan and Phil's favorite board games is Wingspan. At first blush, like many other board games, it can seem a bit complicated. But, once the basics are learned, it becomes clear that really, all Wingspan needs to be is an excuse to look at pretty art of birds and learn facts about them. You don’t have to strategize to have fun playing the game. On days where you’re in a post-New Year’s haze on top of being sick, it’s a game that can require almost zero mental effort.

Backyard Bliss (ao3) - milfbilvy

Summary: Dan and Phil spend some time in the backyard of the phouse, enjoying some quality time together under the shade of their beloved cherry tree.

Coffee and TV (ao3) - p4stmybedtime

Summary: Dan got back from finishing his tour a few days ago so the boys take it easy and enjoy each other’s company during a lazy morning in the phouse.

I Better Die First (ao3) - imademon

Summary: Phil is a ghost, haunting his and Dan's forever home and trying to get Dan to see him.

i found god the moment that i put my lips on yours (ao3) - cutekai

Summary: after a long day at the phouse

I'd like to hang out with you (for my whole life) (ao3) - bunnyslipper

Summary: Mornings in the forever home (featuring the golden pig)

make me feel (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dan discovers a new use for his walk-in closet

next chapter (ao3) - phanwriter

Summary: Dan and Phil unpack the first box in their forever home.

our love keeps the things it finds (ao3) - dbg_708

Summary: The minutes they spent at the top of Manchester, when he first saw Dan in a train station, looking at him out of breath and sweaty in front of hundreds of people, giving him flowers when he was finally coming back home, and kissing him silly in their kitchen all reside in the same crook of his heart: unrelated to and away from his aches and pains.

Phouse Chores (ao3) - SpiritsDJH

Summary: Very loosely based off of the chore segment of the preshow at TIT.

place your head on my beating heart (ao3) - lesbaurinkos (pluginbaby)

Summary: “Do you wanna do it now? Ditch prom.”

Dan can’t help but snort. “There is no prom, you freak, we already closed the game. Prom’s over.” It’s a purely perfunctory argument, of course. He’s already letting Phil tug him to his feet.

Phil smiles even wider, if that’s possible. “Doesn’t matter. I think we get to make the rules here, and I say we’re ditching prom.” And he’s– ridiculous, the whole thing’s ridiculous, and it’s ridiculous how much Dan loves him.

So they’re ditching prom.

(or: slow dances in the kitchen of the forever home)

Real Phousewives London (ao3) - ciarawilson

Summary: Dan orders a dramatically long robe and uses it to win the idgaf war

You're the only story that I've never told. (ao3) - DumbGayVampires

Summary: Watching him, Dan felt the familiar grudging affection that came with a lifetime in each other’s company…

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic Hearts - (25)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

All good things come to those who wait

---

The light faded and you found yourself in your apartment. You were in Mellisa’s room but the boxes were put away, it was clean and untouched. The clock’s ticking drew your attention, the silence began to cave in as the events caught up to you. You began to break and crumble because there was nothing to hold on to except fading memory. Not even his shirt to sob into. Nothing. It was as though he had vanished.

You were sure your neighbors had thought you had gone mad for the next couple days. Because all you could do was spend your time standing like a ghost in the hallway, lost in thought thinking about a moment in time that truly had made you happy. Or walk up to his apartment which now housed a family. The school had no track record of his employment. He was just a figment of your imagination now.

Even his little acts of joy was lost, no one remembered him except you. The grief was too much, the loss was too severe to recover from.

Was this the price for your dreams?

If only you knew. If only you knew the pain involved.

The alarm went off in the morning but you were awake, lying in bed watching sunlight creep in. The sound of his laugh haunting you or the colour of his eyes reminding you that you could never hold a man like you held him ever again. The bed seemed empty, the hall seemed too quiet. You forgot about the world for a while, it didn’t need saving and you were tired of being a savior, because you couldn’t save the only one you wanted to.

You made your way to the grocery store, to grab the essentials when you spotted a horse magazine. You would have never bought it before, but now you picked it up and dropped it into your basket.

Anything that reminded you of him, became a necessity in your house. Anything he had mentioned in passing, a song he liked or a movie he watched, all those little moments became artefacts that gave you the illusion of his presence. You sat in your couch, you whipped up pancakes for dinner because your heart felt like a void and cooking when you felt like that only made the food taste worse.

The TV was on but the tears streamed on their own, your appetite was lost, now was the first time ever you felt utterly alone. But the phone rang next to you and it got you out of your slump. You picked up the receiver only to hear Sam yell through it.

“Should I send a SWAT team after you? Have you fallen off the face of the planet? Why haven’t you shown up to work for a week?”, he raged.

“I’ve been sick.”, you lied, pushing away pieces of blueberries around on your plate.

“Show up to work tomorrow or don’t bother.”, he didn’t investigate your excuse or show concern. He hung up.

You wiped your tears using the edge of your jumper and ate your dinner because you didn’t want to feel more miserable. There was nothing more to it now, the world seemed to have lost the magic you could see in it before. Or maybe that was just Ken’s presence, without him the world felt entirely dark.

You couldn’t bother with work, you showed up late because of the traffic but mostly because you had lost your spark. The passion towards your career. The morning rush was usually a bit more manageable compared to the lunch and dinner crowds. So you got to work, slowly bringing back a rhythm into your team as you got the orders following but you lacked the patience now. There was a grit with which you held yourself, no one could continue to push you over anymore.

The restaurant was operating through it’s peak period when Sam walked in with a plate that was still untouched.

“What is this?”, he asked shoving the plate into your view as you checked the order receipts before plating the dishes.

“That is our wonderful pastry chef’s famous crème brulee.”, you said sarcastically as you ignored his presence in the kitchen.

“When I’m here, I expect you to stop working and give me your attention.”, you heard him as you passed the plates over to the servers to be given to the customers before turning to your station.

“You’re in the kitchen and this is my domain. So your rules don’t apply.”, you bit back as you cut through a fish in preparation for the next meal.

“The crust is burnt.”, he complained so you made a show of walking up to him to inspect it. The dish was fine, Sam just needed a reason to pick a fight.

“The crust is impeccable. Great work, Rodrigo.”, you patted your pastry chef before you got back to your station again.

“Find something else to complain about.”, you threw a comment that seemed to spark him off.

“Oh that’s easy.”, he dropped the dish on the counter as he folded his arms stalking his way to you.

“You’ve been all over the place this past week.”, he stared you down but you kept your focus on filleting the fish.

“Anyone who lost a loved one would be.”, you said plainly not even giving him a courtesy glance. Your sous chef paused, her eyes softening once she heard your reason.

“You live alone, Ella. Don’t spring up with lies just to help your case.”, he argued and you sliced through the final cut to hold up your knife.

“That’s enough.”, your voice held the weight of a warning and you could feel your eyes pin him down with a stare. His lips wavered but he held his ground.

“Threatening people now?”, he smirked but took a step away. He was doing this purposefully, to make you lose face in front of your team.

“What is it you want? Spit it out and stop wasting my time.”, you spoke as you checked the dishes your team put together before sending them off.

“I am not impressed with your work, Ella.”, he shrugged his shoulders but you stayed quiet as you washed your hands.

You huffed a laugh, the restaurant held its acclaim and continued to make headlines because of your team, your menu and the food. All of which did not involve Sam’s guidance, all of which you executed. So till this date, he had been enjoying the fruits of your labor and yet he was never satisfied. His constant devotion to narcissism blew you away.

“It’s never enough.”, you shook your head as a frustrated laugh escaped you.

You came back to your station, the heat of the kitchen somehow seemed cooler compared to the tension that simmered between you and Sam. Years of this all for nothing, his back and forth for a restaurant he only kept around for money’s sake. You took in a deep breath, it was a fight in your mind, to not think of Ken when you needed comfort.

But you couldn’t help yourself, Ken’s voice filtered through.

You can do anything, Brie.

Could you?

Your eyes fluttered over the faces of your colleagues. There was no point in sacrificing your talent and time for someone like Sam. Maybe, in tradition of keeping Ken’s presence alive, you could take his advice. He believed in you, now you had to.

Your fingers caught the towel on your waist and pulled it away from where you had it tucked in. You felt lighter, like you were walking a tightrope. Now all you had to do was keep walking forward.

You pulled away the knot of your apron from behind and peeled it away from your body. It was time to let the past go.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, this was unlike anything you would have done before. But this was in league with embracing a new life.

You walked up to him but didn’t bother to place the apron in his hand, you dropped it on the floor and threw your towel at him.

“I’m done.”, you shrugged your shoulders, a smile spreading across your face.

There was nothing more to explain, you needed space to grieve the people who were vital in your life, but in order to do so, there were some people you had to cut off. To begin to heal.

You stepped past him, towards the exit, each step feeling more confident than the one before. The heavy door pulled away easily, as though destiny was calling for you. The cold crisp air caressed your skin and this decision felt right.

You turned to see your team, their faces filled with sadness and uncertainty, so you paused to take a moment as you stood taller.

“If any of you ever want to work at a better place, don’t hesitate to reach out.”, you told them and without giving Sam another second of your time, you left.

-

As you walked down the street, the world seemed hazy and hopeful. You didn’t want to waste any part of the good bits, the smell of pizza wafting down the street, the sound of children running by and the city light shining a little brighter as you passed by.

The world didn’t look dead anymore. You walked past a group of girls seated in the park, in their hands were their Barbies. The banners and billboards featured women winning awards and excelling in different fields.

Two mothers pushed their prams past you but they didn’t look like zombies, their faces were flushed with colour and life. Saving Barbieland had prevented the loss of this beauty around you, but as good as it felt to see the fruit of Ken’s sacrifice. Now it felt like you were the only one feeling lost. That all this beauty wasn’t allowed to be enjoyed by you.

You sighed, the grief found it’s way back, the glimmer died down and the world became grey again. Until you heard the chime of bells on a door and as you stopped, you had found yourself in front of an antique store.

The sign dangled on the door as it shut, it was still open, atleast for the next thirty minutes. There was nothing else to do if you got home early and being there only made your feelings worse. But standing here felt familiar, like you could hear your name be called from within. Oddly it felt like home, like a place you had known forever.

You pushed past the door and the bells jingled like it had a degree of magic in it. The store was dingy and every inch of it was filled with items, artefacts and objects that it almost felt like time didn’t exist within these walls. An old man sat by the cash register and his eyes sparkled as if he knew something about you. He smiled at you and you returned it. All this time, you would have walked past this place a million times over the years and yet this was your first time here.

You walked through the aisles. The shelves held spoons and old tea cup sets. Watches of different sizes ticking together in unison that it sounded like a chorus of claps, like your own marching band cheering you on.

You began to walk a little fast as though you were jogging up the hill to see the view. To catch a glimpse of the sun. But when you got to the end, it was just a large shelf taking up the length of the wall. You stopped, each rack was filled with old toys, all kinds that looked like they had been well loved.

You traced your finger on the edge as you perused through the collection when you caught sight of a box that looked familiar. You reached to pick it up when the door bells chimed again as if this moment was just for you, that this magic was special because it seeped into reality.

The ticking stopped, the vacuum sealed in. The box you held was your barbie box within it was you as a doll and fit into the same box, was beach Ken.

Your Ken.

---

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[fallenlightsif]

do the speak now (tv) album ask for this blog too 👀 i have to know what songs my blorbos relate to

Ofc anon 🙏

Mine: MC/Marcella

"Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time; you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter; you are the best thing, that's ever been mine"

Sparks Fly: MC/Florian

"I'm captivated by you, baby, like a fireworks show; drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain; kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain; cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile"

Back to December: MC/E

"I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't; so if the chain is on your door, I understand"

Speak Now: Kira

"So don't say yes, run away now; I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door"

Dear John: Rowan

"But I took your matches before fire could catch me so don't look now; I'm shining like fireworks over your sad empty town"

Mean: MC @ their mom

"You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me; you have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I'm nothing"

The Story of Us: MC/E

"Oh, I'm scared to see the ending, why are we pretending this is nothing? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how, I've never heard silence quite this loud"

Never Grow Up: Ezrah & MC

"To you, everything's funny, you got nothing to regret; I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that"

Enchanted: MC/Florian

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles, same old tired, lonely place; walls of insincerity, shifting eyes, and vacancy vanished when I saw your face"

Better Than Revenge: Ilaria

"Sophistication isn't what you wear, or who you know, or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go; they didn't teach you that in prep school, so it's up to me"

Innocent: Orion

"Did some things you can't speak of, but at night you live it all again; you wouldn't be shattered on the floor now if only you had seen what you know now then"

Haunted: Rowan

"It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now and it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake"

Last Kiss: MC/E

"I hope the sun shines, and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed; you can plan for a change in the weather and time but I never planned on you changing your mind"

Long Live: The Childhood Friends (Florian, MC, Marcella, and E)

"Hold on to spinning around, confetti falls to the ground, may these memories break our fall"

Ours: Orion/MC

"They'll judge it like they know about me and you; and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do; the jury's out, but my choice is you"

Superman: MC/Cier

"He's not all bad like his reputation and I can't hear one single word they said; you leave, got places to be, and I'll be okay"

Electric Touch: MC/Julian

"I've got my money on things goin' badly, got a history of stories ending sadly; still hoping that the fire won't burn me just one time"

When Emma Falls in Love: Ari

"She won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave; and she's the kind of book that you can't put down, like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town"

I Can See You: MC/Cier

"I can see you waitin' down the hall from me, and I could see you up against the wall with me; and what would you do, baby, if you only knew?"

Castles Crumbling: Ilaria

"Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off; and here I sit alone behind walls of regret, falling down like promises that I never kept"

Foolish One: Dimitri

"And the voices say, “you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson”; foolish one, stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come"

Timeless: Orion/MC

"That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs, story of a romance torn apart by fate; hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did, and I'd die for you in the same way"

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

The Lost Boys Musical concept/idea (final sneak peek!)

Heres the final sneak peek of the TLB Musical idea I'm gonna be giving until I post the entire concept in one big post! If yall would want to be tagged in that BTW, let me know!💜💜💜

First sneak peek here!

🦇🦇🦇🦇

As the new scene is set up, it’s the next day, the sun out and we see a few residents minding their own business, having quiet, indistinct chatter, as LUCY, MICHAEL, and SAM enter. LUCY looks around delighted and with a pep in her step whilst MICHAEL and SAM both exchange unsure looks.

SAM makes a few comments about not being so sure of this place, to which LUCY tries to put his edge at ease, only to have MICHAEL come in and make a comment and agree with SAM. LUCY immediately stops the two boys, beginning to say how Santa Carla isn’t all that bad, you just have to see the good in it.

She then goes into a song, having a hopeful and happy tune. Possibly about all the good things in Santa Carla, all while MICHAEL and SAM come in with a few verses about weird or creepy things they notice, (Especially the ‘Murder Capital Of The World painted on the back of the billboard, and when Michael asks for jobs and the dude comments ‘Nothing Legal’ or something like that) only to have Lucy sing about it but seeing it in a brighter light.

This continues as they may make their way around the set, while they walk around, the stage is slowly moved, and the new set of GRANDPA’S HOUSE is put up. LUCY, MICHAEL, AND SAM’S final harmony of the song quickly ends when LUCY comes to a halt at the body of GRANDPA EMERSON’S body sleeping on the front steps.

We get the whole moving in scene, GRANDPA EMERSON’S rules, and also a duet between MICHAEL and SAM, singing about the house and how it’s like they’re in some Texas Chainsaw Massacre, upset about no TV, jokingly singing how it’s like they’re in a horror movie.

Next is when we finally end up back on the boardwalk, a band begins to play a song- but as SAM notices something’s off with MICHAEL- especially with what he had told LUCY earlier about not going to school once it starts, he asks his brother what’s up.

MICHAEL would break into song- the band in the back supposedly singing back up (even though the POV is only shown to us that way, given the crowd is still listening and rocking out to the band, unaware of MICHAEL’s ballad) He sings about how he feels like he has to start life all over again, meet to people, friends, in a place he doesn’t feel welcome in. How he feels alone and almost as if his Parents whole situation is a weight he should carry.

And as his song reaches an end, he suddenly harmonizes with a voice in the crowd, causing him to pause. The voice continues to vocalize without words to his earlier tune a haunting  voice ringing out. Soon, STAR appears atop something, standing out from the crowd with LADDIE next to her. She then sings something along the lines of MICHAEL’S troubles, how she feels alone, having to start her life all over again. And of course… MICHAEL is smitten.

But the moment their eyes lock, STAR hurries away with LADDIE in tow.

MICHAEL instantly turns to his brother SAM, telling him they had to go find that girl. As they go on their little chase, a small, more lighthearted song starts. SAM continuously asks his brother questions about this girl, MICHAEL returning his answer. (Like “What were her eyes like?” “Shining like diamonds” which would get gags, complaints, or cringes from SAM. Cheesy goofy stuff like that.)

[sad-chaos-goblin]

@ineffabildaddy and @celestialcrowley both tagged me in this long bio thingy (thank u!!! 💚), it's taken me a while to get round to it but here's some stuff about me:

Real name: Elyan

Nickname & nickname origins: Some people call me Ely but mostly everyone uses my full name.

Ao3: sad_chaos_goblin Haven't actually published anything (yet) but I might start soon ^^

Social media: i mostly use ig but it's a personal private acc

state country: Spain. I'm half English on my mum's side but I've never actually lived in the UK. I was born in Málaga, lived in Dublin for a bit and now I live in Barcelona.

pets: none right now, although I call my work bestie my Tamagotchi and she says she's my pet human, I keep snacks in my drawer cos she gets hungry often <3 Back when I was a kid we had a belgian shepherd and later on a samoyed, both the sweetest things ever. I miss them, dogs should live as long as humans :(

hobbies: reading (mostly I'm into fantasy and good omens fanfics right now but it changes every now and then), lyrical dance, aerial silks, pole dance and recently I'm getting into writing (inspired by GO)

Personality: I'm an extroverted introvert, I love spending time with people I like and I love getting to know new people I vibe with, but I need a lot of alone time, my social battery is limited and social interaction can feel very draining if I don't get alone time to recharge. I can be quite socially awkward and shy if I don't know people too well but once I'm comfortable around someone I get very giggly and silly. I'm an INFJ according to a test thingy someone sent me to fill in.

Favourite holiday: Hallowe'en. Big spooky fan, me. Mostly because it means autumn has arrived, it's my favourite season. Also love costume parties and roasted chestnuts (in the Catalunya region of Spain, where I live, it's tradition to have roasted chestnuts on the 31st).

Favourite food: hmm hard to choose. (Vegan) lasagna, mushroom risotto, curries, avocado toast, regular toast with margarine or olive oil, bread in general, i love bread!

Favourite dessert: lotus cheesecake or fudgy chocolate cake (vegan versions).

Favourite colour: I'm not really sure I have a specific favourite colour but I generally prefer cool colours over warm ones.

Favourite quote/s: "To live is the rarest thing in the world; most people exist, that is all" - Oscar Wilde, "Time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn" - Delmore Schwartz, "To the world" - Good Omens

Favourite book/s: too hard to pick all-time faves so here are a few favourite recent reads - Six of Crows/Crooken Kingdom, 1Q84, Babel, Good Omens (currently reading)

Favourite tv shows: Good Omens (obvi), Brooklyn99, The Office, the Haunting of Bly Manor, From

Favourite films: Jurassic Park (the original one), Black Swan, Little Women, I'm kind of blanking here can't think of any others

Favourite characters: Crowley & Aziraphale, Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Nina Zenik, Wylan VanEck, Matthias Helvar, Jo March, Tori from Heartstopper & Solitaire, Jake Peralta, Holden Caulfield

Favourite actors: currently quite obsessed with Michael Sheen and David Tennant, I wonder why

Favourite song/s: ooh this is a hard one. Off the top of my head right now:

-My immortal - Evanescence

-Under Pressure - Queen

-Who wants to live forever - Queen

-Lovely - Billie Eilish

-Smoke Signals - Phoebe Bridgers

-Famous Blue Raincoat - Leonard Cohen

-Take me somewhere nice - Mogwai

-Massa Tard - Blaumut

-With me - Sum41

-Perra - Rigoberta Bandini

-Run - Snow Patrol

-Cardigan - Taylor Swift

I'm gonna stop myself here cos I could just keep adding songs and this would get wayyy too long

Favourite music genre/s: Whatever vibes with my state of mind in the moment.

Favourite podcast/s: Don't really listen to podcasts cos I have rubbish attention span and if I play one while I'm out walking around I am practically guaranteed to get distracted by my own thoughts and stop paying attention and suddenly realise I haven't processed a single word in the last half hour

Have you ever met a celebrity: I've decided locally famous drag queens count as celebrities so yes, i have met a few and they were all super friendly! ^^

Do you collect anything: I've moved a lot since I left home so I've tended to be quite practical about not accumulating things. Books would be the exception I guess, I love buying physical copies.

Do you have any idols: in Neil Gaiman we trust

Is there a real life friend you can be completely yourself with: I am terrible at being vulnerable and expressing my feelings face to face but i do have a couple of people very willing to be a safe space whenever i do manage to share

Where would you live to travel to: New Zealand, Tromsø (Norway), West Coast Canada

Random fact about yourself: I get carsick very easily.

If you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading all my gibberish!! <3

I think many people i would tag have already been tagged elsewhere so I'll leave it at that but everybody feel free to join in!

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Six, Part 6

I stood up off the crate and brushed myself off, not that it mattered. I was just as filthy as Justin. We stepped back in. Food was all over the floor. The counter was covered in sauces and crumbs. The fryer oil was black and opaque. There was so much to do.

But we worked though it. It wasn't the first awful night we'd ever had. It happens, and as we cleaned, my anger at the front of house slowly faded. I was still going to have a chat with Sarah about how reservations worked. A table that big should be known. If I had had any inclination to how crazy things were going to go, I would've called for an extra hand or two. Most of it really wasn't anyone's fault. Sometimes days like this happen and the wave of tables seems to never stop. Honestly, there really was no way for us to have fullly prepared tonight.

By eleven, the kitchen looked better. Everything was back to silvers and whites. The fryer oil had been filtered. I sat finishing up the paperwork I had put off, plus tonight's. By quarter after, I punched out and headed out to the bar. If there was ever a night I needed a drink, it was tonight. Amber took look over at me, and left Justin to get me a beer. Without even asking, she poured a shot for me of Jameson. I knocked it back and started in on my beer. Maybe a little too fast, but at this point, I didn't really give a shit. I was miserable and angry.

I pulled out my phone, texting Chad about the 23rd. I didn't expect a response so I put my phone back in my pocket, and stared unseeing the TV playing some sports recap. Stuff i had no interest in.

"You alright?" Amber asked. I just nodded. I was tired and I was upset. It's hard to let go of a bad night. You can forget every good day you've had, but you'll always be haunted by the bad ones.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tonight was just a fucking joke."

"I felt really bad for you guys. But, on the plus side, you two rocked it," she smiled. I looked at her with a grin. That was Amber, ever the optimist.

"It's over. At least it's over," I grunted. I looked at the clock. It was eleven thirty.

"Very true," she said, looking down the bar, to Justin drinking whatever liquor he had.

"Go. Maybe ask him for a drink sometime," I said, a little louder than I should've. I knew Justin wasn't paying attention and wouldn't hear me. It was still funny to watch Amber get all flustered.

"Shut up, asshole," she said as she walked away. Even as she said it, she was laughing and almost looking at Justin in hopes he'd heard. I gave my attention back to the silent TV. I started to nurse the second half of my beer. I still did have the walk home in front me, and I was to far to make it safe with a drunk on. That would probably be the day I would actually get mugged. I retreated into my head, barely giving any attention to the world around me. Some people call it disassociation, and that was probably the right word for it. I called it daydreaming.

"What you thinkin' bout?" A bright voice suddenly said. I hadn't even noticed her come in. I snapped back to reality in an instant, yanked by that angelic song of a voice. I turned around quickly in my chair, only to see Addison standing and smiling back at me. I hopped off my stool and took her in an embrace.

"What? Wait, what are you doing here?" I couldn't speak right. My bad mood was lifted and shattered into a million little pieces, sharp as glass.

"I figured, since I'm off tomorrow, I'd come bug you at work. I wasn't even sure you'd still be here," she said as Amber and Justin slowly came over by us. This was still fresh to me. Seeing me interact in this way with someone. Hell, seeing me interact with someone in general is kind of a shock.

"You came to visit me? What if I wasn't here?" I asked, still not quite sure I believed what was happening.

"What can I say? I missed my dork. If you weren't here, I was prepared to bug you at home," she smirked at me and kissed my cheek. My heart skipped when she said her dork. I was hers. That's how she saw me. Hers.

"What would you like to drink?" Amber asked, still smiling in awe at the situation they were witnessing. Justin was sitting only a stool away now, trying to remain stoic and quiet. Like stone. This girl had come in for a second time to talk to me, a guy they saw has one of the most antisocial people on the planet. I was the poster child for chosen solitude. I had the social skills of The Unabomber.