#starting to fuck around w/ watercolor brushes...

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

he is just. so shaped. so so so So shaped.

[jaideite]

Hey!How about bakugo and denki (maybe overhaul???) With an s/o that draws on themselfs all the time? thanks ❤❤

OVERHAUL I SCREAM YES

look at my non creative ass making this using the same excuse 😐 oh well

My first time writing for overhaul and I went a little overboard 00pS probably didn’t write him right but send me feedback if I did 😔👊

lmao I’m probably not doing any of this right pffft— 💀

anyways this is coming out on Christmas so I wanted to let you all know...MERRY CHRISTMAS and for those who don’t celebrate it HAPPY HOLIDAYS :D I love you all and thank you for helping this account grow!! ☺️🥰

BAKUGOU, KAMINARI AND OVERHAUL WITH A S/O WHO DRAWS ON THEMSELVES ALL THE TIME

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

— “Stop drawing on yourself idiot.”

— “Oh my god let me write that on my arm so I won’t forget.”

— he watches while you out of pettiness pull out your crayola markers and start doing some calligraphy on your arm in big warm letters saying “STOP DRAWING ON YOURSELF”

— you decorate it putting them dots all over it and add your hero symbol and smiled at him with “Thank you for the reminder, this is why I like you.” and keep it going

— he always tries to hide your pens and markers

— he would blow them up but he did that once and the ink spilled all over him

— you laughed at him after beating the mess out of him for touching your markers

— “My jiji bought those for me, baka!”

— “Y/N...get off me...your crushing my balls...and let go of my fucking leg—OW!”

— “You crushed my markers you mother—“

— he buys you new markers after patching himself up

— you inspect them with a glare “they aren’t my jiji’s limited edition watercolor markers but they’ll do.”

— he just twitches an eye but keeps it going

— jokes on you she bought them cause your jiji bought them from staples lmaoo

— “When you get sick no one is taking care of your bitch ass.”

— “Oh please my quirk isn’t going to make me sick.”

— “Your what—“

— You explain to him that when you draw on your skin it actually start to move and this is how you can plan out battle moves and he’s just

— “Hah. Lame ass quirk like it’s owner.”

— you know he got his shit rocked for that lmfaoo his stupid ass💀

— he can’t even get irked at you whenever you draw on yourself cause it’s your quirk damnit

— sometimes he likes to draw on you lol

— “Hypocrite.”

— “Shut, the fuck up.”

— you made sure to get your soft bakugou pictures in without him not

— it’s very therapeutic yknow you just sit in a t-shirt while he doodles on you and watches them come to life

— hes actually pretty good at it

— “Yeah shitty lady I’m good at everything.”

— “Apparently not cause if you were you’d be good at shutting the fuck up.”

— “OOP—“

— one time while you were getting ready to hop in the shower you happened to glance down at your calf and see an ‘I love you’ written inside a heart

— of course you took a picture of it

— of course you sent it to him

— of course he denies writing it but you know better

— “That’s not my fucking handwriting.”

DENKI KAMINARI

— look at bakagou i fell in love again UGH

— you guys are so bad omg

— like it’s terrible

— “Babe lets draw dicks on your arm.”

— “Absolutely.”

— “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

— honestly should have been the first warning

— he doesn’t really care about you doing it cause he sticks things into sockets

— you draw on your arm

— potato potato oh well not much y’all can do

— till one day he just gets curious as to why you draw on your arms so much and your just like

— “Kami do you not pay attention?”

— “Huh?”

— “Babe...it’s a part of my quirk.”

— poor pikachu is just 🥴??¿ but you just stare at him and put your quirk into motion

— you think it’s kind of lame but basically your skin is like paper and whatever you draw on it if you wish becomes reality

— he’s still confused until you just draw a detailed apple on your arm in record time and pick it up

— and he watches as it just peels off and becomes real

— and poor boy is shook

— “Here, eat it.”

— and he bites into it and just screams and drops it

— your just like poor apple

— “THATS REAL!”

— “Yep.”

— “Y/N THATS REAL!”

— “I know.”

— “ITS GOOD!”

— “Should have finished it.”

— “Y/N H-HOW—“

— “Kaminari wait—“

— “Y/N I’M WKDKWK—“

— “How the hell did you say that out loud—oh wait shit Kaminari don’t go stupid—“

— after this poor boy is so amazed at you

— “Draw me!”

— “Kaminari I can’t draw living things.”

— he gets so excited over it

— constantly shows off your drawing skills too

— “Look at what Y/N can draw! Isnt it so cool?”

— “Kaminari I love you but please baby stop showing me off.”

— he likes doodling on you lmaoo

— sometimes he draws the weirdest things while other times it’s cheesy pick up lines that you find yourself reading during a lecture

— he tried to make himself AirPods and they came out looking exactly like the drawing he drew

— he cried in the corner like an idiot while you sighed and Yayorozu patted you on the back and handed you a pair

— damn rich kids wksksk

— it isn’t until days later he comes up to you and asks whatever happened to the dicks he drew on your arm

— you just 🥴, pat his head and send him on his way lmfaooo

OVERHAUL

— ugh his name just gives me the shivers I love it

— also this is my first time writing for beak boy so don’t come after me oOP

— y/n are you out of your goddamn mind

— “Absolutely not.”

— “hUh?”

— the first time he catches you he just takes the markers

— he thinks drawing on your skin is a way of you dirtying it and that’s a big no no

— “You are making your skin dirty, and you know how I feel about dirty things.”

— “That’s not what I get when we’re behind the bedroom doors.” you mumble annoyed

— he just shoots you a look but hides them anyways

— you have to be cleaner than Mr. Clean himself you understand?

— and Mr. Clean is very clean there’s a reason why his head is so shiny and his clothes are so white

— so some time passed and you just continue on

— till you’re playing with Eri one day and she has markers and your just like 😶 cause those are your markers

— meaning one of his henchmen gave it to her due to her either being good or not being able to calm her down

— but either way it doesn’t matter because she’s happy and when she sees you her eyes red eyes just shine like rubies

— “Y/N, come draw with me!”

— so happily you give in and you guys are drawing

— until you uncap a marker and smirk

— “Wanna see something cool?”

— and Eri who doesn’t get to see much is absolutely happy with this and agrees immediately

— so you pull off your jacket and start doodling on yourself and as soon as your hand moves away the drawing on your skin practically comes to life

— it runs up your arm and jumps around and dances almost as if it were an animation

— and Eri is just mind blown lmfaooo she’s so curious to how you did it

— and your explain to her that your quirk allows you to animate the drawings on your skin but only on your skin

— it doesn’t matter because she thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world

— so you happily roll your pants up and let her doodle all over your exposed skin and your both having fun watching the animations move

— till Kai walks in on you both and it’s like tires screeching to stop

— at first he sees the markers and then his eyes go from the box to the paper to you laying on the floor with your clothes rolled up and Eri drawing on you

— poor girl is trembling on your leg

— and he’s about to say something when he just stops and watches the deer you drew run across your arm and hop underneath your sleeve

— your just like “oops 😬”

— but he just stares at you with an unreadable expression and just walks out the room and your just 😐 cause your just like “am I in trouble??”

— later when you guys are alone he just pulls up your sleeve and stares at the deer

— and it’s silent as he watches the deer jump and move around like it’s a normal animal

— your scared of what happens next but he just takes his glove off and gently touches where the deer is

— “Kai—“

— “It’s so real...”

— “Uh...yeah...”

— your just silent as his cold fingers brush against the deer until his eyes just move up to you

— “It’s...incredible. Just like you.”

— you turn scarlet at his words and move to pull away but he refuses to let you go, simply admiring the deer in the shadows of your bedroom

— and his touch is absolutely soothing

— so soothing you end up falling asleep looking into his eyes

— later on in the day your doing some cleaning when your sleeve goes up and you see a soft black heart on your shoulder and you smile softly at it

— “I love you too, Kai.”

[euphoricpixi3]

So we meet | Part One of Tattoo Artist!Yoongi au

Summary: the one where Yoongi needs someone

Warnings: panic attack

▹author’s note↴

I wrote this at 3 a.m. and i’m posting this at 4 a.m. My heart went soft on this one. Tell me if I should write the other parts too! I would like to hear your feedback on this one!

☾ ☾ ☾

Yoongi is tired, so fucking tired. His brain is on five percent battery, the heavy jacket hanging on his bony shoulders became heavy bones. He sits heavily in the back of the tattoo parlor, neon signs flickering on and off in the dark exposing cobwebs in every corner of the room.

There are days the tiredness comes in various forms, physical and mental. But now, his body needs to rest yet his mind needs it to move, to burn the anxiety that had deeply soaked into him. Without some kind of movement his mind will keep him up all night long and that would be already the third time this week.

Every night is a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts. He doesn’t want to sleep. He just spent fourteen hours working and he is not ready to wake in the morning to rinse and repeat. His second voice chastises him, the longer he lie in that bed the more chance of sleep he had and the better tomorrow will be. But he knows that between now and the return of daylight are his zombie hours- when he is mostly awake but dozing in fitful spurts. Six hours will feel like sixty yet he’ll rise as if it was less than ten minutes of down time, just as exhausted as he is now. Then he'll put on the wrong clothes, leave the milk on the counter and color another person.

Fuck, his head is pounding now, his eyelids impossibly heavy, the flickering sign messing with his migraine. He sigh standing up, hands gripping the cushion sides deadly, so he wouldn’t pass out right there and be a surprise for his coworker in the early morning.

Just imagining the care and concern he would receive sends shivers down his spine.

Yeah, not happening.

After few heavy breaths that sends his body into another sea of ache he makes his way towards the door and shallowly smile as he hears the rain drops smashing against the dirty concrete.

He sighed heavily, the fresh air brushing his cheeks. It was still hot outside, but when the night came, the salty wind made the temperature a bit chilly, making goosebumps rise on his skin.

He started to walk, hood up and fingers twitching inside his pockets, the world seems like a painting, as rain gets in his eyes.

He stopped taking deep breaths with his eyes closed, feeling the wind around him. He took a deep sigh, stretching his neck, before opening his eyes, but everything felt fake. He gulped the lump in his throat, his stomach tight. The familiar feeling was growing in him, almost paralyzing his limbs. He stumbled a bit, chocking on his spit. He sat down on the sidewalk, taking deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

His shoulders were tense, hands shaking slightly as he tried to calm down.

He’s pathetic, what kind of tattoo artist can’t stop his hands shaking?

Only then he realized it wasn’t the rain that got into his eyes, it was tears all this time.

And that only made him more pathetic.

“Are you alright?”

Yoongi lifted his head, vision blurred by the tears which he tried so hard to keep in, he opened his mouth slightly and closing it as soon as the sob broke away.

He wanted to scream that no, nothing was right.

But all he did was cry, hands securely wrapping around his knees, his bones painfully crushing against the wall.

The lights around him blurry and almost aesthetically out of focus, reminding him of one of those trendy photos on Instagram will blurry lights. Now he was in the frame, held against his own will by the anxiety that ironically became a part of him, a trait he would mention when describing himself.

The girl soaked from head to toes crouched down next to Yoongi.

“I know it may seems impossible, but I need you to take deep breaths, okay bud?” she said in reassuring tone.

She was taking a deep inspiration, gesturing it with one hand, the other trying to block the rain.

And if Yoongi wasn’t so tensed up, he would’ve chuckled.

When Yoongi looked like he had calmed down, she helped him stand up, her hands secured around his waist keeping him steady.

“C’mon, let’s go to my shop” said the female.

Tears now mixed with rain still streamed down his face as they walked into a shop. The air was perfumed by the heavy scent of the flowers. The sweet, almost sickly, smell cut through the bubble of tiredness and as he felt the soft cushion against his body, he was paralyzed and so, so terrifyingly tired.

Her voice was coming through like she was using a plastic cup and thread to talk to him, so far away and so incomprehensible.

He wanted to shake her by her shoulders and tell her to speak up, but His jaw went slack. His eyes glazed over blankly and his head nodded forward.

Next thing - whomp!

**

He winced as the strays of sun forayed through his closed eyelids. He felt heavy, his body resting on probably the comfiest piece of mattress he had ever experienced.

It was even better than the embrace of his best friend Namjoon, who would scoop once in a blue moon and that is saying something.

But once the sickly smell broke through again, he jolted now completely wide awake.

Looking around all he saw were pastel walls and flowers. So many blooming flowers making his head spin once again.

“I don’t think you should be standing, perhaps you should lay down” a voice behind him said.

He turned around meeting a smaller girl.

“W-what happened?” he mumbled, voice still raspy. He had the time to gulp down the nervous lump forming in his throat.

“You were having a panic attack in the middle of a street at 3 a.m.”

Yoongi winced, gaze falling to his feet. No one was supposed to know about that. No one was supposed to know about his weaknesses.

He could feel the concern emanating from her and it made his stomach tight and warm. She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder and instead of flinching like he usually did to any kind of skin contact, he was soothed by it, it felt as if he was in a blanket of her caring.

It felt strange and unknown.

But addicting, god it was addicting.

**

Both of them sat on the cold ground as the place didn’t have anything else.

“Sorry” she murmured the blush already appearing on her skin “I’m new here, so there isn’t much yet”

Yoongi nodded knowingly, that’s why he had never seen before.

It’s not often that a flower shop or a bakery would appear in this sketchy neighborhood, so a part of him wanted to tell her to go away back where she belongs, but his buried selfishness kept his mouth shut, he was scared she would actually leave.

Yoongi tugged his sleeves up exposing the ink on his porcelain skin. The lines weren’t neat and something looked off but that’s how he learned to make tattoos in the first place, on his own body with his own shaky hands.

Only now her eyes skipped through his art, a large tattoo of daffodils growing through a heart with stems coming down to his wrist, colorful and messy in a watercolor style. On his right collar is a simple black tattoo saying “Bad lover”, his right wrist shows another saying “tragic”.

There were many written lines making her heart ache.

Yoongi has a hard time saying what he feels, it’s very complicated for him to express himself. While it brings hardships with his personal life, that’s why he focuses so much on expressing himself with his art. It’s sadly poetic, to be honest. He’s good at what he does solely because he suffers and has to cope somehow.

How can he pick himself up and hit the ground running towards the sun when he is running towards the cold?

The temperature in room is rising to cancel out his freezing heart and maybe this time he will accept it.

[interstellarflowers]

peter parker x reader | i want you to know |  chapter three

i want you to know | chapter three: his/yours

chapter one | chapter two | chapter four | masterlist

a/n hey everyone, sorry this took so long i hope you guys like it thank you for being so patient you’re all the best

t/w angsty as per usual, cursing, self-destruction

unedited 

    “Didn’t anyone tell you that you have a bedtime?” 

    There he was again, with his jokes and his childish banter, how could he maintain such a positive front after all that’s happened?

    “Didn’t anybody tell you that I’m seventeen and can make my own choices?” 

    “Seventeen.” 

    You fall silent for a moment, of course, you were aware that you were seventeen, but you were also aware that most seventeen-year-olds haven’t had to carry part of humanity on their shoulders. Most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have a company to take over, most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have a world-renowned legacy to live up to, and lastly, most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have to compete with the Spiderman for this legacy. 

    “...Didn’t anybody tell you that I don’t have any parents to give me a bedtime?” You choked out. 

    Peter shot you this-this look. You didn’t even know how to describe it. Seven different emotions flooded through his face at once and you didn’t know if you should prepare to be yelled out, completely shut down, breakdown or jump off the fucking building.

    Peter doesn’t do any of this, he just sits down next to you because he’s gentle because he’s quiet because he just takes it. You detested this. You hated him for this. Why? Why would he just take it? Why is he still fucking here?

    It’s quiet for a really long time. Part of you wanted to tell him that you’d go inside, that you’d go to bed. You wanted him to leave. Part of you just wanted to make a nice conversation, to make him feel better, to get rid of a silence that was no longer so comfortable. Silence was better than lying.

    “I lost Mr.Stark too,” Peter looked across the city with you, “I lost him...I can’t lose you too.”

    The sun was rising, Peter was getting up.

    “Peter-”

    “I have to go.” 

    “Okay.”

    He was off, swinging through the tops of buildings, blending in with the sunrise.

    You never really thought about it. You saw the sunrise nearly every day, but you never really saw it. You were always so caught up in yourself that you ignored it. You ignored the mango orange and the wine red crashing into each other and giving way to the sky blue. You never stopped to notice the cotton candy clouds and the way that the stars faded away into the watercolor display from above. You were too caught up in what the world had lost, you were ignoring what the world gave to all every day. You never stopped to appreciate the gift that came every day, a new day. You never appreciated the gifts that every new day had brought...

    It was time to try something new. 

    Returning somewhere so familiar yet so unknown was always such an indescribable sensation. You ran your hand across the row of lockers that a year ago would just be a row of lockers to you, now they felt like something out of a fever dream. Fluorescent lighting was playing tricks on your eyes and the scent of the cafeteria flooded your nose along with the scent of whiteboard markers and floor cleaner. Your senses were in a frenzy and you were sure that you were seconds from breaking down-

    “(y/n)? You can come in now.” The principle motions you into his office with a pitying expression on his face. 

    The meeting was fine. Everything went smoothly, you transferred back over into Midtown High School just fine. Everything was fine, so everything should’ve felt fine...Why didn’t you feel fine?

    By the time you stepped out of the office, it was 6:54 am. Class was minutes away from being in session. The backpack that you used to wear every day suddenly felt like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your back. Everything felt so off, and that’s when you realized why. You looked around the hallways, really looked. Faces you used to see every day were unfamiliar. They all looked at you. They looked at you like you were some ghost, back from the dead, you certainly felt like it but you didn’t think that people would look at you like that. They all had these looks on their faces, indescribable, they all had such pitying and sad eyes. There were whispers. Some had something else in their eyes that made you miss the pitiful looks. It was like everything you had read online was glaring at you. It was like everything that everyone was saying was hitting you at once. It was a long walk to first-period chemistry. 

    Peter walked into school, another sleepless night, another restless day. Walking into school never seemed to become any easier, not when he knew what he left behind. He had left your side. He knew that you weren’t his responsibility, he knew that he didn’t have to watch you, but the thing was that that wasn’t what he was doing. You weren’t his responsibility, but you were his. On missions, you were always his teammate. On school projects, you were always his partner. In magazines, you were his alleged girlfriend. Throughout media, you were his partner in crime. Through life, no matter where you saw it or who you were hearing it from, you were always his something. He didn’t claim ownership of you, it wasn’t like that, he just missed you being by his side. He missed having your back, he missed you having his. He missed talking to you, really talking to you. He missed going to sleep and knowing that you were going to be fine. He missed knowing that you were fine.

    “Peter!” Ned hurdled towards Peter out of breath, “I’ve been looking for you all morning!” 

    At this moment Ned takes a good hard look at Peter. He looks at the ever-darkening bags underneath his eyes, how less lively they make him look, how this isn’t the Peter he used to know, how tired he looked, how burnt out, how...gone he looked. He wanted to say all of this to Peter, he wanted to tell him. He wanted Peter to stop, he wanted Peter to rest, but he didn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to. 

    “What is it, Ned?”

    Ned shook his head, 

    “It’s (y/n), did you see?” 

    Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach and his feet turned ice cold, 

    “(y/n)? Ned, what happened? I-I have to go, I have to get to her. I-”

    “She’s right there!” 

    Peter whipped around so fast he nearly snapped his neck, There you were. You still looked tired, you still looked gone, but you were here, and that was huge. Peter broke into the biggest smile, the first real one since the end of the war, 

    “(y/n)!” 

    You turned around to meet Peter’s eyes through the hoard of kids in the hallway. Peter looked at you, your eyes were still tired, you still looked drained and you had this...sadness, that always seemed to run through you, Peter felt so lost. The last time he had seen you here you had been so happy, you looked healthy, you were smiling, you were you, but now was now, because there you were. Looking at him, and he was looking at you. You gave him a small wave and Peter raced towards you, racing a little too fast, but he didn’t care, he needed to get to you. 

     Peers gave you both strange looks as Peter pulled you into a big hug, others gave you sympathetic looks.

    “You’re finally here! (y/n), this is huge! We have to celebrate, we-”

     Peter had been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your social queues. He didn’t notice your closed up posture and he didn’t notice that you weren’t hugging him back. 

    “Peter, please let go of me.”

    “(y/n), I’m sorry, but, please-”

    “Let go of me, Parker.” 

    Peter let go of you, shattered. 

    Flash stared at the scene with a malicious glint in his eye, 

    “Don’t you know she has a boyfriend Penis Parker, or did he leave when Daddy left?” Flash shot you a nasty look, “Did Spidey leave when Daddy left with his money? Aww, don’t cry, I’m sure Penis Parker here-”

    “Shut the fuck up.” Peter glared at Flash, he had never been so done with somebody’s bullshit in his entire life.

    You glared at Peter and gave him a look that said ‘Don’t.’

    “Make me Parker.” Flash challenged Peter playfully as he stepped closer, he was testing Peter.

     Ned shot you a look and you both nodded at one another, even after all of your absence Ned knew when you meant, he wanted the same. Peter needed to step down. 

     “I will.” Peter lessened the distance, Flash was playing with fire. Peter knew what he was signing up for, Flash did not. Flash was testing the wrong person. 

    Ned shot Peter a look that said ‘stand down,’ Peter shot Ned a look that said ‘stand back.’

    You pleaded with Peter, you mouthed, “Please.” Peter looked away and brushed you off. 

    It all happened in a blur, it was like a nightmare, before you could even process what had happened Flash was being rushed into the nurse's office and Peter dropped his usual demeanor and was screaming. You couldn’t hear him, in fact, you couldn’t hear anyone. 

    It was just a broken nose, that was all it was right? No. It wasn’t just a broken nose. It was a broken nose caused by Peter. Your Peter.

a/n i hope you guys liked it! honestly i started to get super discouraged with this series and was wondering if anybody was even interested anymore since part two had significantly less notes than part one, but it doesn’t really matter even if just on person likes it, its still worth writing. sorry i as quiet for a while though something bad happened, but like i said ill get over it. comment or drop by my ask box to be added to any of my tag lists, thank you for reading!! also let me know if you guys want a playlist for this series??

tag list

@assemblemotherfuckers @heartbeats-wildly @editsbyjenny @stark-spiderling @loxbbg @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad @imslightlyconfused @eridanuswave @itsmoony

[uniformbravo]

i have too many thoughts bouncing around in my head so uhhhh im gonna talk abt shit

welcome 2 episode 43647 of my shitty slice-of-life text post series

school tomorrow i dont wanna go!!!!! !!!!!!!!!! depressions been hitting me tf up like some kind of MotherFucker n im so tired i h8 both of my classes i just want 2 lie down & turn into the floor -______________-

read 12 chapters of fma yesterday its good............. i dont love it yet but im definitely entertained so far & looking forward to getting further into it

also started reading silver spoon & it turns out the things i hated in the 1st ep of the anime didnt even happen in the manga who fuckin knew (im sorry i doubted u arakawa) so im actually enjoying the series a lot more this second time around! though that’s probably partly because i got rly attached to the protag halfway through s2 & now i get to dig out all the little signs of his low sense of self-worth on the reread so like. im having fun lol (watching him react to being told about livestock being offed for under-performing just the smallest bit again is..... so good.......)

watched all of aggretsuko today, like the original 100 shorts & the new series, it was p good! i honestly never planned to watch it bc like. i hate death metal / screaming bc it gives me anxiety & i knew this show would aggravate that but idk i heard good things about it from literally everywhere so i was like w/e im in the mood today i’ll just try it out & i blasted through it and enjoyed it v much

i think i like the shorts better than the show but that might be bc i watched the shorts first & got used to their rhythm? but at the same time i feel like the concept generally works better as little 1-minute tidbits. the show is a bit awkward sometimes in comparison but it’s a v good adaption regardless. it was interesting to see the concept executed 2 different ways at least. v fun show!

mmmmm still working on my silan portrait kind of!! i took a break for 2 days because 1. depression and 2. i was a fucking fool and played a Lot of piano on thursday so that put me out of physical commission for 2 days (honestly i was still feeling it today but i rly wanted to get back to work before it started to fade into yet another unfinished project). so yeah i got back to work on it today, and made some decent progress i think!

i mentioned in my other post that im working in clip studio paint, a program im not used to painting in, and i’ve definitely been struggling trying to get used to all these weird brushes but i think im slowly coming to an understanding and finding a technique that works for me? there’s an “oil paint” brush that’s good for blending & previously i was trying to use only that, since in photoshop i never switched to other brushes, i only used the one (hard round). the oil paint brush being a blending brush though, it’s basically impossible to lay down any new color on top of the old ones because the new color automatically blends with the old ones instead of coming out pure, so as a result all of my shading was coming out super soft and light which is not the effect i’m going for

so i found that using a different brush to lay down color first and then going in with the oil to blend made a huge difference & i was finally able to get in the darker shadows i wanted, but there was still the problem of details because like. the oil brush blends rly soft and it makes everything look kind of fuzzy, and it’s especially hard to deal with small areas for details

so today i started experimenting with a “watercolor” brush, which is basically just a normal brush with low opacity, and i’ve found it’s a good kind of middle ground between blending and carving in details, so that gave me a lot more control and is probably the closest i’ve gotten to my old painting style when i was working in photoshop

this whole process has just been rly confusing & im sure there are easier ways to go about this but i know i’ll get the hang of it eventually & get some good use out of this program, & it’s good to experiment with new tools i guess so?? it’s all good?? i’ll be honest im getting tired & this topic is kind of getting away from me uhhhh in conclusion im still working on the thing & i dont know when i’ll be done but i’m gonna fuckin. Keep at it

back to aggretsuko for a sec, something i rly noticed was the ost is?? really good????? i wanted to listen to it while i drew but i couldnt find it on yt & that’s like the extent of my music search capabilities on the internet so im p sad abt that bc that was like my fave part of the show rip

instead i listened to houseki no kuni’s ost which is fuckin beautiful ugh i finished that show a few weeks ago & it was very very gorgeous, like. weird and disjointed and a little tangential but fuck if it’s not put together in such an artful way that i can forgive all of that like what a way to create an atmosphere what a way to adapt a fuckin manga?? i tried reading the manga a bit bc lets be honest that anime ending was super unsatisfying but it just?? wasnt the same??? theres something abt the show being a 3d show and having the music to accompany its visuals & the way they did the lunarians especially holy fuck, it’s a completely different experience watching the show vs reading the manga & now im sad bc i want a s2 rly rly bad,,,;;;

anyway i didnt mean to talk abt hnk so much lol uh. i ended up listening to the op a thousand times bc god when i say the music for this show is rly good i mean it, both the op & ed are fuckin great (speaking of the ed that gorgeous animation holy shit,) along with its super atmospheric bgm just. god

as a reward for anyone who read through all this shit lmao here listen to hnk’s op it’s super good i promise

also watch the ed lmfao trust me it was a gift benevolently bestowed upon my eyeballs and now so too shall it be upon thine

anyway im fuckin tired & i think that’s all i wanted to say so like. peace

[zoemurph]

to have a friend, chapter four: $80

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3

fun fact i actually finished this like.....tuesday at 4 am cause i died for a bit between like 10-1 and then couldnt sleep. i have edited it since then tho so i promise its not too much of a disaster!

warnings: implied past self harm, discussions of mental health, depression/depressive episodes, some suicidal thoughts. let me know if anything else needs to be tagged

enjoy!

From: Evan To: Connor      Just go t home      Hope things ar eok with yoru family

Connor stares at the texts for a few moments before he falls back onto his bed.

Who knows how his family is.

Actually, he knows. A fucking mess. That’s what his family is.

He can hear Zoe practicing in the room next to him, forgoing headphones and using her amp because she wants to piss him off more. Larry had slunk back to his office, and Connor was sure he did as soon as the opportunity presented itself. His mom is in the kitchen, probably aggressively cleaning dishes like a sparkling plate will fix her shattered family.

Connor stares at the ceiling.

Why did he think he could do any of this?

He lifts his phone and looks at the screen again. Evan is trying. Which is just ridiculous. Evan is trying with this family. What the fuck.

From: Connor To: Evan      cool      they never are but thanks i guess

He tosses his phone to the side and debates doing homework. There’s not really much of a debate — he’s not going to do it — but the fact that he considered it is probably worth something.

It’s not that late yet, which is frustrating. He wants to go to bed, but he’s also too high strung for that. Usually he’d be exhausted but—

Connor studies his ceiling.

He’d been angry. So angry. Burning and explosive. He had been on the edge of his rope and about to break— and then he’d been doused in a shock of cold water. He’d been standing outside the bathroom, insides blistering and turning to ash, and then he’d heard Evan’s unnatural breathing and all of that had just stopped. The fire was gone and he was left with only mild panic that made his mouth taste like metal and an icy chill of not knowing what to do or how to help.

Somehow, sitting on the floor of him and Zoe’s painfully childish bathroom with Evan had been the most real part of the night. It felt the most solid, most tangible. Handing Evan one of those silly cups his mom kept buying, their fingers brushing as Evan took it with shaking hands, that was the most grounded he had felt in days.

Fucking weird.

There’s a knock on his doorframe.

Connor sits up to see Cynthia standing there. “Oh. Hi.”

She smiles, sadly because that’s the only way she smiles nowadays, and takes a step into his room. “Did Evan leave?”

“Uh…yeah. It’s not like he could hide in my closet or anything.” They both look toward the disaster that is Connor’s closet. The doors won’t shut and clothes are piled up on the floor. There was a time where Connor liked things to be neat and orderly. Now he doesn’t have the energy. “He wasn’t feeling great.”

She makes a concerned noise.

“He, uh, gets sick really easily. He’ll probably be fine tomorrow.” Connor curses in his head. Better jot that down so he can tell Evan that Cynthia now thinks that his immune system is shitty. Because she’s probably going to shove all sorts of vitamins and health drinks at him the next time she sees him. If there’s a next time.

God there better not be a next time.

Cynthia sighs. “I’m sorry about tonight, sweetie.”

Connor shrugs and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “It’s not like it was going to be any different than usual.”

The expression on her face is so pained that Connor has to look away. He can’t even be mad at her. He’s pissed at Zoe for her snippy comments. He’s mad at Larry because he’s always mad at Larry. He’s upset with his mom— the most he can be upset with her for is for not trying harder to stop things from getting out of hand. But when has she ever been able to stop it once it started?

Mostly Connor is just mad at himself.

The only reason Evan was here was because he gets paid twenty dollars a week. It’s not like he has any other obligation to be here. Or to hang around Connor. If there was ever a chance that Evan would actually like Connor, that just went out the fucking window.

“Are you hungry?” Cynthia asks, softly. Not as forced as usual. Not as pressing. “You didn’t eat much.”

“I’m fine,” Connor mutters. He tugs off his sweatshirt and throws it on his desk chair. He tries not to notice her eyes going to his arms and then flicking away. “I’ll grab something if I can’t sleep.”

She sighs again. She does that a lot. Sighing. “Okay. Okay, just…” She steps forward and brushes hair away from Connor’s eyes. “Apologize to Evan for us, okay?”

“Why?” Connor asks bitterly. “Because we can be better?”

Cynthia doesn’t say anything. She just stands on her toes and presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “Sleep well, honey.”

Connor stands in the center of his room after she leaves. He hates not having a door. It’s like his entire life is out in the open for his entire family to see and judge. Which is some bullshit.

He looks around his room, open and exposed, and thinks that he should clean. Or something. He’s living in a dump.

Connor picks up a sweatshirt and stuffs a few books onto an overflowing bookshelf. Under papers from junior year that he just needs to throw out when he gets the chance, he finds a watercolor sketchbook.

He pauses with four old plastic water bottles in arm to flip through the sketchbook. It’s old as hell, he doesn’t even remember the last time he used watercolors. Or did any art that wasn’t just shitty sketches in his notebook when he didn’t feel like paying attention.

He looks over his shoulder at the light in the hallway.

Connor isn’t entirely sure where his watercolors are. Probably somewhere under the trash and clothing covering his floor. He looks from the watercolor sketchbook to his bed.

He dumps the water bottles in the space between his wall and his bed and starts digging. It takes him almost twenty five minutes to find his watercolor palette. It’s old and dusty, the red is cracked and the purple is almost gone because he always really liked using purple for some reason, but it’s usable.

It takes him a little longer to find brushes. He’s definitely missing some, but fuck it, he never actually knew what the different brushes were for. He just used whatever ones he felt like.

He washes out an old mug that was on his desk from god knows when in the bathroom and fills it with clean water, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the hallway closet. Then he pushes the clothes on his floor into a pile against the wall so he can sit on the floor, because there is no way in hell that he’s cleaning off his desk for this. He fishes his earbuds out of his backpack and plugs them into his phone, turning on some random music that he’ll let fade to into background noise and pulls his hair up into a really messy ponytail.  

Connor can’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to art. He doodles a sketch that’s kind of messy but fine enough because it’s not like anyone is going to see this and then just goes for it. He doesn’t exactly remember how to do this, but he’s never been one for doing things the right way. There’s a reason he stopped taking art classes after freshman year. There’s something weirdly calming about the way the water spreads on the page and something familiar in the brushstrokes. Even when he fucks up and uses way too much water and he knows that the paper is going to be wavy and warped.

He puts down the paintbrush to skip a song on his phone. He has another text from Evan.

From: Evan To: Connor      Im sorr y      YOu should nt feel that way abou tyour family

Connor rolls his eyes. Evan really does try.

From: Connor To: Evan      its whatever, im used to it      mom says sorry about tonight. shes embarrassed      but seriously dont worry about it

He skips through the songs until he finds one that feels right, slower and almost more gentle, he really needs to pick up better watercolors because he’s going to need that purple, before putting his phone back down on the floor next to him.

All things considered, this isn’t the worst piece Connor’s ever done. He studies it as he takes a sip from his mug.

He yanks the mug away from his mouth, gagging. He rubs his mouth with a grimace.

That was paint water.

Connor doesn’t really leave his room much over the next two days. He eats because his mom wants him to, he doesn’t talk to Zoe, and he argues with Larry and wishes he had a door to slam.

Then he sits on his floor and fills pages and pages of his sketchbook with shitty watercolor paintings.

He splashes colors across the pages, sometimes not even trying to create a coherent image. He just needs something to do.

He’s almost out of purple.

Connor waits by Evan’s locker Monday morning, folding and unfolding the twenty dollar bill in his pocket. Zoe needed to be early today for some band thing, so that means Connor is early which just sucks.

This school seriously needs a color palette that isn’t drab and depressing. Connor wears almost exclusively black, but fuck, tone down the gray.

“Oh! Hey, you’re…already here.”

Connor looks up from his phone. “Zoe,” he says. “Band shit. Fuck if I know.”

Evan nods slowly and then reaches for his lock.

“Wait.” Connor grabs Evan’s wrist.

Evan freezes, wide eyes darting to Connor. “W-what?”

Connor leans a little closer. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispers. Evan furrows his eyebrows. “My family is the fucking worst, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.”

“I-it’s fine!” Evan stutters. “I don’t— no this is. This is okay.” He slowly pulls his arm out of Connor’s grip.

Connor clenches his jaw and leans against the next locker. Evan doesn’t say anything as he opens his locker and starts taking out books. An unfairly loud part of Connor’s brain wonders if Evan is only doing this because he’s scared.

It’s not that far fetched.

“B-besides,” Evan adds, “Jared is— he’s already asking too many questions and if we just stopped now—”

Connor frowns. “He is?”

Evan gives him an exasperated look. “He hasn’t texted me about non homework things in forever and he’s just been sending me ‘is it a sex thing’ for a week.”

“Wow I hate him,” Connor says before he can stop himself.

Evan laughs in surprise.

“He’s a douche!”

Evan ducks his head. “He’s not the worst person ever, b-but he can be…himself.”

“And that’s pretty bad,” Connor mutters.  

Evan pauses and then closes his locker. “Do— are you still okay with…with telling him?”

Connor shrugs. “Sounds like we have no choice.”

Evan tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Are you…free today?”

“I literally have no life or friends, Hansen,” Connor reminds him. “I’m always free.”

“Okay, right, okay.” Evan takes a short breath. “Can we— today?”

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t gotten harassed by Kleinman about this yet, but if they wait, the chances of that happening increase significantly. And if it’ll get Jared off Evan’s back— “Yeah sure. Where?”

“My place?” Evan asks. Connor pulls open the door to the stairwell. “I-if that works?”

“Sure thing.” Connor’s voice echoes uncomfortably loud for this conversation. “Better than being at home anyway.”

Evan glances back over his shoulder at Connor. “Are things…bad?” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure what word to choose.

“They’ve been worse,” Connor admits. “But it’s not a party.”

Evan stops at the stairs where Connor has to keep going down to get to chorus. “I’ll— I’ll text you? About the time?”

Connor nods. “Sounds good, Hansen. See you then.” He steps forward and hands Evan the twenty that has been floating around in his pocket for too long. “Forgot to pay you back for food last week,” he says when Evan’s eyes dart toward people walking past.

Evan gives him a half smile and takes the bill. “I-I told you it was fine. I can pay sometimes.”

Connor shrugs and turns toward the stairs. “Too late.”

—«·»—

From: Evan To: Connor      Im s o s rry just ignore him or block him he grabbed my phon e      Serious ly blockign him mihgt be the best opti n

From: Connor To: Evan      ??????

Connor probably shouldn’t be texting in class, but the class is astronomy and also when has Connor ever given a fuck. He stares at Evan’s messages, trying to decode them while he waits for the lunch bell.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait that long to figure out what they mean.

From: (522) 101-5414 To: nerd, emo      sup fuckers

Connor doesn’t even have to ask who it is, he just tries not to groan and texts Evan.

From: Connor To: Evan      seriously??

From: Evan To: Connor      Im sorry !!!      Hes being a  d ick      Also does like 3 work?

Connor huffs and glances to the clock. That’ll give him about an hour to kill after school before he can show up at Evan’s. Whatever, he’ll figure something out.

From: Connor To: Evan      thats fine      tell kleinman if hes being a dick i will hurt him

Evan’s response is almost immediate.

From: Evan To: Connor      I wouldnt blame you but ma y be dotn hurt the one pe rson whos gonna knw about us

Connor snorts and puts away his phone. He’ll do his best, but only because Evan asked.

—«·»—

Connor texts Evan as he walks up to the house. The door is open before he can even knock. Evan looks slightly panicked, but also somewhat relieved. Connor lowers his hand from where he was about to knock.

“He here?”

Evan nods and grabs Connor’s sleeve, tugging him inside.

Connor takes off his boots while Evan rambles on about Jared being in his room and talking about something, summer camp? Maybe? And then there’s a tangent about cars? Connor isn’t sure but he puts down his boots, straightens, and puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he interrupts. “You’re going to pass out and you really don’t want to leave Kleinman and I alone together.”

Evan takes a slow breath. “Right. Right. He’s… Come on.”

He shows Connor up the stairs, gesturing vaguely to a bathroom as he moves toward his room. Connor didn’t really notice how small Evan’s house is the last time he was here, but now he feels too large in it, like he’s taking up too much space. But it’s also comforting in a weird way, less empty space for thoughts to echo.

Jared spins around in Evan’s desk chair when Evan opens the door. “Man of the hour!” Jared announces, opening his arms in Connor’s direction.

Connor flips him off.

“Okay, rude. I can work with rude.”

“Jared,” Evan says warningly.

“I know, I know.” Jared spins back and forth a little in the chair. For some reason, Connor thinks giving him a chair that turns may have been a bad idea. “If I’m an ass you won’t give me pizza.”

Connor scoffs. “You bribed him?”

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I just— can we not talk about this?”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “I was promised juicy deets on whatever the fuck this is.” He motions between Connor and Evan. “Cause uh,” he laughs, “guys, what the shit?”

“We aren’t friends,” Connor says flatly.

Evan twists the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“Yeah no shit, Sherlock.” Jared grabs the arms of the chair and leans forward. “Wait this is a sex thing, isn’t it! Evan you said—”

“It’s not a sex thing!” Evan shouts. “It’s a—” He looks to Connor with wide eyes. “A…fake friend…thing?”

“Excuse me?”

Connor explains before Evan can flounder any more. “I give Evan twenty bucks a week to pretend to be my friend.”

Jared stares at them.

Evan shifts uncomfortably next to Connor. Connor kind of wants to leave, but Evan wants to do this, so…

Jared snorts. “Are you fucking serious?”

Evan cringes. “Y-yes?”

“This is—”

“We know, Kleinman,” Connor snaps. “But we need your help.”

Evan looks at Connor in surprise. ‘We do?’ he mouths to Connor. Connor nods. Spur of the moment thought, but he literally can’t keep dealing with Zoe bugging him about Evan. Who gives a shit if they never hung out together around school, even if that is a lie. He needs some sort of proof so she shuts up.

Jared spins slowly in his chair. “How so?”

“Evan said we emailed each other,” Connor says. “But my dad checks my email. So this email account would have to be ‘secret’.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “That’s—”

“We know, Jared!” Evan interrupts. “C-can you just—” He glances toward Connor. “We need…emails from over the summer?” Connor nods. “Can you just, like, show me how to fake the timestamps o-or something?”

“Oh yeah, that’s super easy,” Jared says. He leans down and unzips the backpack leaning against the desk and pulls out a laptop. He opens the laptop and types something out. “Secret email account is very—”

Connor grits his teeth. “Just do it, Kleinman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Watch the monkey dance,” Jared mutters to himself. “That’s super fun.” He pauses. “If Evan gets twenty bucks a week for this, what do I get?”

“The gift of life.”

Evan shoots Connor a look.

“Awesome.” Jared types for another moment. “You know,” he says, “twenty bucks seems pretty cheap.”

“Are you trying to be difficult?” Connor grumbles.

“Always.”

“I-it’s fine,” Evan stutters. “Re-really, Jared?”

“I’m just saying,” Jared says with a shrug. “You should totally charge more for more complicated stuff. Twenty for faking friendship, forty for hanging out, sixty for being around the family.”

“What?!”

Connor glances to Evan out of the corner of his eye. Evan is protesting, but it’s not the worst idea. Especially after the dinner that Evan suffered through. Connor is going to have to ‘borrow’ more money from his parents’ wallets, but hey, at least it’s not for weed.

“I really fucking hate that I’m saying this,” Jared and Evan look over to Connor, “but that’s not a terrible plan.”

Jared smirks. “Nice.”

Evan gapes. “W-what?”

“If you spend a few hours dealing with my shitty family, that probably is worth more than saying hi to me in the hallway.” Connor crosses his arms. “I should probably pay you more when you have to deal with more bullshit.”

“N-no, that isn’t— you don’t have to—”

“Let him give you money, Evan.” Jared types rapidly on his laptop. “I’m making you two up a fucking price chart for reference.”

“Jared—”

“One condition,” Connor says. “If we’re doing this it’s only ten dollars a week, if that’s okay,” he directs the last part to Evan. “I’m not a goddamn millionaire.”

“Annoying but valid,” Jared says. “The weekly flat rate is ten dollars then, nonnegotiable.”

Evan sinks down into the other chair that someone had pulled up to the desk.

“I think the first step up is hanging out outside of school.” Jared glances to Connor.

Connor nods. “Three for outside, five for my house.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Evan asks weakly.

“Nope,” Jared says, popping the ‘p’. “If hanging out involves the fam, I say it’s an instant five more.”

“How about two added on to the location fee,” Connor argues.

Jared scoffs. “That’s three dollars, man.”

“Try to remember we’re high schoolers,” Connor says flatly.

Evan wimpers.

Jared pats Evan’s arm. “Okay. Extended family is another three. No arguing that one, extended family is bullshit. Twenty bucks flat for a sleepover. Like on top of the weekly ten.”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “What?! No!”

Jared looks to Connor.

Connor shrugs. “Fine.” He doesn’t think that will be relevant but whatever. If it gets written down it’s not the end of the world.

Jared smiles to himself and starts to type quickly.

“W-what are you doing?” Evan asks, leaning closer to try and get a look at the screen.

Jared elbows Evan away. “Shh I’m working.”

Connor raises his eyebrows.

“Aaaaaand…done.” Jared spins his laptop to show Connor.

Connor squints at the list Jared has made on the document.

 This is the Worst Plan I’ve Ever Heard But Have Fun You Friendless Losers created by Jared Kleinman

$10 — weekly flat rate no matter what

—

Casual Shit:

$3 — hanging out outside of school $5 — hanging out at the Murphys’ (+$2 to location fee if it involves other Murphys) (+$3 more if it involves any extended family) $20 — sleepover

—

Romance Shit:

$25 — date $5 — hug $15 — kiss $200 — Full Boyfriend Package™

(FFBP™ decreases all things in this section by $10, except for dates, which drop to $20. No, you do not get paid for hugs, hugs are just free now. Congrats, you just paid two hundred fucking dollars for a free hug)

 Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking hilarious,” he deadpans.

Evan pales as he reads it once Jared has turned the screen toward him. “Uh…”

Jared snorts. “It’s called a joke, dude. Learn to take it.”

“J-just delete it,” Evan stammers. “That’s not— we were supposed to make emails.”

“Okay.” Jared highlights the romance section and deletes it. “It’s gone.”

Evan sighs. “Thank you.”

Jared does a keyboard shortcut. “And it’s back!”

“Jared!”

“Gone! And back!”

Evan’s ears turn pink. “S-seriously?”

Jared just wiggles his eyebrows and deletes it again. When he starts to hit undo, Connor leans forward and grabs the laptop out of his hands.

“Dude!”

“We aren’t fucking five,” Connor says. “Can you help us with these emails before my sister tries to call a fucking private detective on me or are you just going to be a dickhead?”

“That’s no way to talk to someone who’s helping you out,” Jared says. But he holds out his hand for the laptop, and when Connor gives it back, he spins around, puts the laptop on the desk, and opens a new tab.

Him and Connor set up a new email account and then Jared has Evan open up his own email. As Jared sets up faked emails that Evan and Connor will fill with mindless shit, Connor looks around Evan’s room.

There’s a window with two small succulents sitting on its windowsill. There are pictures scattered around the room in mismatched frames, a lot of Evan and a woman he assumes is his mother, more than a few of Evan and Jared when they were younger but less and less as they get older until there’s none, and one small picture of Evan with a man that looks vaguely like him that sits on the corner of Evan’s desk, a stack of books obscuring it slightly.

Connor remembers Evan saying something about his dad and looks away.

Evan’s room is much smaller than Connor’s. It’s cozier and cleaner, but still untidy. The books in Evan’s shelves are piled up and tipping over, there are a few sweatshirts draped around the room, and there’s a terrifying looking pile of papers on his nightstand.

“Yo,” Jared says, holding out his laptop to Connor. “Work out what you want these to say with Evan so I can finish this. While you do that I’m going to find some snacks.”

“We’re out,” Evan answers almost immediately from where he’s bent over his laptop.

“I’m going out to buy snacks,” Jared corrects. “See you in a bit, losers.”

Connor stares at the blank form that Jared has pulled up on the screen. How many of these things is he going to have to do and is this going to turn into a school assignment?

“It’s probably easier if one of us starts,” Evan murmurs. “And then we just go back and forth and respond to whatever the other says.”

“Like actual emails.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just faster.”

“Sure. Let’s keep the things that can mark when this shit got sent to a minimum, okay?” Connor’s summer is a blur. He spent probably too much of it high and another big majority of it just doing nothing. Looking back at it, it all just blends together into a mess of shitty and shittier.

Evan nods. “Mhm. I’ll start if you want.”

“Go wild.”

As Evan types, Connor clicks through the other tabs Jared has open. One for the email account, a few google searches, a coding thing Connor doesn’t understand, and the price list. Jared put the romance section back.

Connor makes a note on the document that just says ‘youre a dick’ and clicks back to the dauntingly blank form.

An hour later, Evan has finished his sixth email, Connor is typing out a shitty response, and Jared has shown up with enough chips to feed a small nation. They figure out how to space the emails they’ve already written and Jared gets to work on finishing up the ones they’ve got written.

“Should we do the whole summer?” Evan asks.

Connor shrugs. “I don’t care, Zoe will probably buy it with one or two.”

Jared spins back and forth as he adds all the timestamps. “Someone order a pizza, I’m dying.”

Evan checks the time. “Jared it’s only—”

“Yeah? And?”

“You just ate like an entire bag of chips.”

Jared looks up at Evan. “When has that ever stopped me from eating an entire pizza?”

Evan shakes his head. “W-whatever. The usual?”

Jared shoots him a finger gun as he types with one hand.

“I’ll go with,” Connor says. He follows Evan down to the kitchen to see another twenty dollar bill in the center of the table. “Want me to call it in?” he asks.

Evan nods. “Jared always gets a supreme. If he doesn’t finish he just brings it home.”

Fair, Connor would do the same if he cared more about eating. He can only handle so much of his mom’s cooking. Connor places the call and then waits with Evan at the table. “Does your mom have you get takeout a lot?” he asks, looking at the bill.

Evan follows his gaze. “Uh… I-I mean…yeah. She works all day at the hospital, she’s a nurse, a-and then takes night classes at the college,” he gestures vaguely toward the street and Connor assumes he means the community college that people who are ambitious like Alana Beck go to to take summer classes so they look more impressive to admissions, “so…she doesn’t really have ti-time to cook and I’m— I’m not very good at it,” Evan mumbles. “I can do…ramen? Um…mac n cheese. Instant stuff. Other than that I can make like…pasta and grilled cheese and that’s…sort of it. But she doesn’t have a lot of time to go to the grocery store and I, uh, don’t like going so. Takeout is…easier.”

Connor nods. “I get that. You can’t go wrong with ramen noodles. One day we’ll both be living off them,” he jokes.

Evan looks to him in surprise. He smiles a little. “Y-yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Connor suddenly realizes that he talked about the future casually. About college casually, because he can remember one time when he was little and sick and Larry made ramen noodles for him and Connor had decided that they were the best thing ever and Larry had ruffled his hair and said that he’d get sick of them when they were all he ate in college. It’s uncomfortable. It settles wrong inside him. Because outside of the context of that one quip, the future doesn’t feel real. It feels like some untouchable abstract concept.

Thinking about it makes his stomach turn and makes dark thoughts creep in from the corners of his mind.

He shakes them away and listens to Evan talk about how he’s ruined soup before. It’s better than thinking about a future that hardly exists, one that he’s ready to cut the string on at almost any given moment in time.

Evan buries his face in his hands as he tells Connor about the time Jared tried to make eggs in the microwave and almost set fire to the house. Connor laughs and pretends he’s okay.

When the pizza arrives, Connor pays the delivery person while Evan goes and gets Jared. It’s too early for dinner, but Jared doesn’t care and eats two slices before going upstairs to grab his laptop and then eats another. Evan eats breadsticks and lets Jared carry most of the conversation, about half of which is about how weird Connor eats his pizza.

Evan makes Connor take a slice of pizza back, because he ends up missing dinner at home, and Connor just rolls his eyes and takes the plastic tupperware and promises to give it back at some point. Evan shakes his head and tells him not to, because they have too much and they can never find lids that match. Connor figures he’ll just slip it back into a cabinet the next time he comes over.

Next time. Connor doesn’t think in next times. Weird.