#i say ‘a week or less’ because i don’t even know if it’s the 30th or the 31st. those were the days i was told induction could be happening.

[dreamings-free]

Louis about LT3

a summary UPDATED

Sep 2022 first time Louis mentions a 3rd album. Louis is quoted in Euphoria Magazine saying: “Ideally, I’d like to try and write the next record before I go on tour next year. I want to do something similar to what I’ve done this past year.” (but from what we know now it seems it didn't play out that way..)

Sep 14th 2022 Louis leaves a comment on Faith In The Future co-writer Nico Rebscher's instagram post about Out Of My System saying "Can’t wait to do more on the next album!"

Jan 2023 Louis is on holiday in Cabo, Mexico and is spotted travelling with his guitar - maybe in case inspiration strikes!?

Feb 22nd 2023 Louis is seen "a tiny village with a recording studio in it". A few days later both Louis and Matt Vines likes an instagram post by Faith In The Future co-writer David Sneddon captioned "Spent the week at @ angelicstudiouk with friends and heroes." Another FITF co-writer Theo Hutchcraft is seen in one of the photos.

May 11th 2023 Louis tweets: "Also probably shouldn’t mention this so early in the process but I’m feeling really confident creatively, just finished a week of writing and it was unbelievable. Exciting!"

May 13th 2023 When asked about the next album at the LA screening of All Of Those Voices, he answered: “I recently just started, yeah. The majority have been my own, but some of the lyrics is less direct, so it’s maybe not quite as specifically about me but,I felt really fulfilled, the last couple of writing sessions I’ve done have been really, really good.”

Nov 23rd 2023 Louis gets asked about album 3 at the Rolling Stone UK Awards and is quoted saying: “It’s funny, I wrote maybe 4 or 5 tunes in one of the breaks of the tour legs, and actually, I just wanna spend a bit of time. I’m really excited for those songs, but I don’t know when the next records gonna come and the thing about me is when I start writing, I’m just desperate to release things as soon as a possible, so I wanna take a bit of time on this record. So when that might be, who knows.” He also talks a bit about potential collaborators and mentions DMA'S.

Jan 20th 2024 Louis follows producer James Ellis Ford who has worked with Arctic Monkey, Gorillaz and many, many more.

Jan 24th 2024 When asked in a twitter Q&A if he has "a concept in mind already for the next album?" his answer was: "Started drawing the outline in my head". He also told fans asking at the meet 'n' greet in Jakarta that it would be "soon, in my context of the word" 😜

Mar 30th 2024 At the Tecate Pa'l Norte press conference he said: “At the moment, um— to be honest, I haven’t really— the question was what I listen to which is a slightly different thing but; I haven’t really given the next record real thought yet. Obviously it’s been on my mind. But in terms of conceptually, or even finding references, I’m not really at that point yet because I’ve done a lot of touring— just kind of getting that out of the way before I really start thinking about that proper.”

April 4th 2024 He told Chilean radio station Bio Bio: “I have written a couple of songs, but when I was writing them I wasn’t thinking about what they would be for a new album, they were just written to give me something to write and not put pressure on those songs. But I think I will start the work on a new album at the end of this year, maybe.” futher elaborating to Radio Disney Chile: “The good thing about this record is I’m gonna have plenty of time to experiment and with that it gives you plenty of room to just kind of find where the edges of the record live. So yeah I’m looking forward to getting into the process, but like I said I’ve been loving touring at the moment so just been kind of sticking to that.”.

He also told Paraguayan radio station HEI Now: “Of course there’ll be a new album. When? I’m not overly sure. I think I’ll probably start writing at the end of the year. I just wanna let as much life in first and then I can really start emoting and writing.”

June 2024 In the FITF tour LatAm recap video posted to Louis’ instagram 25/6 he says: “At some point I gotta think about the next record, but.. I’m a bit scared of that, truthfully right now, feel like I’ve been enjoying the success of Faith in The Future for.. quite a while. And yes, it’s been the pressure of the shows but I delivered what I think was a good record and a record that was successful. So now going into the next cycle it’s a little bit.. a little bit tentative going into it. I know that’ll change once I get off the road and really start thinking about the essence of the record and the concept of the record and stuff like that. But right now.. yeah, I’m just thinking about the festivals, I’m excited for those.” (he also talks - in past tense about playing in Mexico City and about the upcoming Away From Home Festival, so we can assume this interview was done somewhere in early June)

August 4th 2024 Responding to a fan sign at Santander Music Festival that said "How close R we to the next album 1-5?" showing three - possibly four? - fingers! meaning the album is 3/5 (or 4/5?) done!

tbc...

[emloveswriting]

Come and Catch Me

Summary: Nura is a prolific serial killer escaping the FBI's grasp time after time leaving them desprate. What happens when she decides to get cocky and start messing with law enforcement, more specfically Spencer Reid?

Warnings: crime scenes, not much gore this chapter

Author's note: Hi guys this is my first time writing ever writing a fanfic. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

Word count: 1.0K

Chapter one

“Who is he?” Spencer asks with a sigh. He felt like he was repeating the same scenario over and over. He walked dozens of the exact same crime scenes. At this point he’s bored. He feels hopeless as he asks the detective the identity of their latest victim. “His name is Brandon Renk. He was a 45 year old bank teller in the bank two blocks away. He was walking home from work when he was shot once in the head. Forensics and CSI searched the whole scene and still are looking for any evidence but they found nothin’ so far,” the lead detective on the case states with a thick New York accent, reminding Spencer that they’re now in a completely different city with the same exact crime scenes. He was sick and tired of getting restless jet sleep as they flew from city to city, following this unsub across the US. “Don’t bother. You guys aren’t gonna find anything,” Derek adds before Prentiss joins him. “Let’s walk the scene?” she asks Derek, who responds with a “Shall we?” and they walk away, leaving Spencer alone. They’ve roleplayed at every single scene so far, eager to figure out more about this unsub, but it still hasn’t helped. But they’re desprate to find anything- literally anything that will lead them to her. They were all frusturated at the fact that after months of investigating, their profile had helped in no way to find this unsub.

Brandon was their unsub’s 30th victim, who the BAU had been tracking ever since her first couple of known victims were found in Virginia. Because she was officially deemed a serial offender and had gone to multiple cities, the BAU was asked to officially lead the investigation because they were the only ones with jurisdiction. Her M.O. was simple. She would drop a couple bodies per city, leave no evidence behind, then skip town and continue in the next city. The team was tired of always being ten steps behind. They were just following her blindly after all this time. From what they know she’s choosing these cities at random. They hadn’t seen their loved ones in weeks, instead spending their nights in shitty hotels and their mornings with stale coffee. Spencer couldn’t even count how many hours he stayed up in his hotel room, that he always shared with luke, trying to find a fragment, even a sliver of evidence that would point them in the right direction. But he found nothing. As expected. Luke would always beg him to at least try to get some sleep, although after a while he deemed it worthless to keep asking him.

“What’s wrong Spence?” Luke asks as he notices the tired expression on his face as he stands over the body motionless. “What’s the point of us even here? We walked how many crime scenes exactly like this one by now? 30? We’re never going to catch this unsub. This is worthless. I just want to go home” He says upset. Luke sighs. “I know, I’m exhausted too.” “I barely sleep and when I do I have these- these dreams,” Spencer chuckles dryly. “Huh? Dreams?” Luke asks confused. He knew Spencer didn’t sleept much, always falling asleep hours before him, but Spencer never told him about his dreams. He knew they didn’t have much time for small talk, but he was still worried about him. Spencer barely ate too, drinking sugar filled coffee every morning to try to cover the fact that he slept less than four hours the previous night. “I guess you could call them nightmares. Which statiscally makes sense based on how much we’ve- how much I’ve been absorbed in this case.” Luke hums in understanding. He knew how invested Spencer was in this case, he worked himself to exhuastion every day. Everyone noticed but whenever one of them confronted him about it he would become defensive. “Would you like to talk about it?” He asks gently, not wanting to provoke him. “I-” Spencer starts then is cut off by Emily calling them all back to the station to brief everyone on their next move.

The investigation started in their own backyard. They all now considered it a luxury to be able to be on a case and still be able to sleep in their own beds. Emily was pretty sure they were running out of money in the budget to have them at a different hotel in each city they went to. After three victims in DC, she started up again in Boston Then Maryland Then Detriot. Timeskip to ten cities later they had now ending up in the Big Apple. They’re all sleep deprived, overworked, and really really pissed off at how good she is at covering her tracks. How could one person escape from the FBI for six whole months? Clearly they had underestimated her and her ability to stay completely off their radar. She killed in broad daylight and escaped with zero witness and no DNA. Who’s to say that she only had thirty victims? Based on her streak, she probably decided to stop hiding her bodies so well because she got bored.

Their profile of her was a woman in her late twenties to mid-thirties with anti-social personality disorder. She also very clearly had psychopathic and sociopathic traits. It was clear through her kills that she lacked empathy and remorse for her vicitims. To be able to pull the trigger so easily, she first has to dehumanize her victims. She also was a narcicisst that enjoyed having all of law enforcement in the US looking for her. She was an injustice collector who was executing her victims based on the fact that they were all rapists, pedophiles, and abusers who were never convicted. She had somehow found this out and decided to become judge, jury, and executioner. Although she was a hassle trying to catch, Spencer couldn’t blame her for deciding to take matters into her own hands. The justice system very rarely delivered real justice. After months of chasing her, he was oddly starting to understand her.

This was her third victim here in NYC, meaning she most likely was going to switch cities soon. They were more focused on trying to find where she would go next then actually finding her. They realized a while ago they needed more then to just profile her. Spencer had focused on the geographical profile, but it was hard when she went all over the damn country with no apparent pattern. JJ walks in, handing him coffee. “Any luck?” she asks but isn’t very hopeful. Most of them gave up on finding her a while ago. “What do you think?” he asks with a huff. She puts up her hands in mock defense. “Worth a try I guess,” she sighs. “Why are we still even working this case?” He asks. “What do you mean?” “I’m just confused why the director is still having hope that we’ll find them. We don’t even know how they’re moving from city to city,” he rants. “We can’t just give up Spence. You think this unsub is just gonna ‘give up’ on killing? No they won’t. They’re on a mission. And they won’t stop till they complete it.” “What are they planning to do huh? Kill every pervert in the US? What exactly is their mission?” He asks with a hint of annoyance.

“That’s what we’re here to find out isn’t it?”

[acaciusbride]

I’m not a religious person, at all. While I think religious beliefs are beautiful, they’re not for me, not really. But I AM superstitious.

I lost my beautiful kitty, Charlie, seven weeks ago today. The day after he passed, my husband called me and said he would be late home from work because he’d caught an injured stray dumpster diving out the back & was going to drop him to a vet clinic.

No chip, no tattoos, no sign of being owned at all. The clinic staff basically told my husband in no uncertain terms to get lost and take the stray with him.

Apologising profusely to me, he didn’t know what to do. He knew I wasn’t in any state to have a new cat in the house. But here’s the thing. I’ve worked in cat rescue for almost six years; helping an animal in need is second nature to me, even over riding grief.

“Bring him here.” I said. “I’ll call the rescue boss and we’ll see what we can do.”

The rescue we work with is small. Like, there are less than one hundred of us spread across the state, including admin and transport who don’t foster. We don’t have a physical shelter.

And we’re at capacity, but what can we do? He’s injured, and we aren’t the sort of people to put an injured yet friendly stray back where we found him, especially when the locals say he was being used as dog bait.

My husband brings a crate into our spare room.

“I don’t want it.” I say, then feel like a jerk, but it’s been thirty hours since Charlie and I don’t want another cat in my house. But this guy needs me, so I dial the rescue boss.

“There’s a cat in my house.”

“Uh…” we both know she’s trying not to state the miserable obvious.

“The cat I was messaging you about that my husband found. The vet told him to get lost so now there’s a cat in my house.”

“Okay. Is he feral?”

I unzip the crate and the scrawniest, grumpiest looking black cat stares back at me, blinking huge green eyes. His back leg is dragging. Stupidly, I offer a hand. He sniffs. Not feral.

“Not feral.”

The unnamed cat slinks under my dresser and sprawls out while I set up a cage for him.

“Cool. He’s your problem now.”

“My problem?”

“Yep. I’ll book him a vet trip in the morning. I know you don’t want him, but we don’t have anyone else who can take him. You need a win right now. Hopefully he’s a quick in and out, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t get attached.”

“Yeah, fat chance. I never want another cat.”

And I didn’t. The idea of going to the shelter and picking out a new cat repulses me. We went to just look a couple of weeks ago and it felt wrong. I realised that no matter how much time passes - a month, a year, ten years, I’m never going to be able to pick out another cat, I’m never going to be able to choose a cat. It feels too much like replacing.

I originally named the stray Tairn, because I’d been reading Fourth Wing and liked the name - black dragon, black cat - it works.

I took him for his original scans at the vet and they said it was an old injury. To give him time. Okay, can do. As I drove him there he escaped his cage and lounged on the back seat of my car. Jerk.

That night I put him in his cage and he fell asleep in a startlingly familiar way; the same way Charlie used to sleep when I first rescued him. Both boys had injuries to their rear right legs.

Both boys slept cradling their injured legs. I snapped a picture and put them side by side.

A week later we got Charlie’s ashes back, and when I put his urn on the shelf I’d set up for it, Tairn hopped up beside him and curled up around his urn.

I shooed him away and told him I didn’t want him, but the coincidences and similarities were starting to spook me a bit.

For weeks and weeks and weeks I told myself I didn’t want him. Right up until we went to the specialist vet for a second opinion on his leg. Right up until they told me they needed to amputate. Right up until I drove to pick him up on December 30th.

I was absolutely adamant I did not want this injured, cheeky cat who had never known love before. That I would rehome him because he wasn’t mine.

I made the mistake of renaming him, giving him the name I would give him if he was my cat - Ezra, after my favourite Pedro character, because he’s also missing a limb. But still I was adamant I didn’t want him.

Right up until that night, when we came home from dinner and he was sitting in the window, waiting for us, seemingly unbothered about missing a leg, just waiting for us instead. Like he belonged there. And I felt this?? Rush of relief. Like that’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

He started coughing from his surgery and I panicked, and that’s when I knew I was screwed.

I have Charlie’s paw print tattooed on my hand. Ezra sometimes puts his paw over it, holding onto my hand so he can lick.

He’s started purring, and sleeping on my bed. And I… have decided to let myself love him. Because I think, given all the signs, that’s what Charlie would want.

Because I’ve been so adamant about NOT wanting him, about NOT choosing him, but he’s stubborn and he’s chosen me anyway. and maybe, just maybe, this is how I can heal. With a cat I Didn’t Want, but love unconditionally regardless.

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

A little bit of a weekly “catch up” for my followers and mutuals:

Unfortunately for my Bob’s Burgers people, I have some bad(-ish) news reguarding my tedmort honeymoon au Can’t Have One Without The Other. Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning my WIP, but there will be no new chapter update this week.

It’s been a long week, I’m about to leave for day 7 of 7 of work** and while it’s not a particularly hard job and my hours were actually pretty decent, it took a lot out of me. I also have been pretty down mental health wise this week and needed a bit of a break. I’ve watched nearly two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy over the past seven days and the Third Doctor’s serial The Daemons at least four times; it’s become a personal favorite of mine.

Honestly I haven’t been feeling like working on any of my priority WIPs at the moment but as a writer, I’ve still wanted to write but something lower effort rather than something that requires continuity and planning (like multichapter fics). I instead opted for writing little Two/Jamie and Third Doctor oneshots/drabbles in my gdocs to pass the time.

One of which I do intend to post on Wednesday, however, this one is more of a 30th birthday gift to myself (and has actually been quite nice to focus on without pressure over the past few days) rather than something I wrote because I felt like I had to.

This is not to say I haven’t enjoyed writing Can’t Have One Without The Other, but I was starting to feel the pressure to get it done and the more I sat here thinking about how I was supposed to be writing it, the less I wanted to write it.**

I appreciate all of you for even reading this post — I know I don’t owe any of you an explanation and logically not a single one of you would have flamed me for no update, but I still wanted to update you all because oversharing is what I do! Anyway, I might be back next week or I might focus on oneshots for a little while, either way thank you for the support.

— Caboose

**I should mention that working 7 days in a row is not normal for my position and my supervisor did ask me if I would be okay doing this when I requested my days off to be Monday/Tuesday this week because my birthday is Wednesday. I fully consented (even asked to) work 7 days. I regret my decision and she knows this.

**This is 100% true but also probably about 35% of that is caboose didn’t wanna write the smut, ngl. I will get to it when I get to it because it is something I do ultimately want to include but I just wasn’t feeling it this week.

[1rakus]

Here’s a little Id indicator so if anyone has further questions I can answer: 🐈

OK so I just finished studying abroad in China and hopefully I will never have to worry about this story ever again lolllllll.

I’m studying/was studying w a bunch of other USAmericans (all straight guys except for me (neither of those things) and another guy (only 1 of those things) A lot of them got really into the Shanghai clubbing scene and made friends w some other Chinese college students. ONE of them the most whitest guy in our group w blonde hair blue eyes and big pointy nose hooked up with a girl at the club and started dating her ~2 months before we left, which is fine except for the fact that she was SEVENTEEN. (ILLEGAL IN CHINA TOO BTW NOT JUST THE US (he’s 22 or 23 BTWWWW)) I really don’t know what her deal was very much but later in this story I interrogated the guy w my roommates and apparently she’s taking a gap semester (FROM **HIGH SCHOOL**) because her parents are getting a divorce. Also, she’s not even from Shanghai, she’s from Shenyang (WAYYYY north an 19 hour drive away from Shanghai) so she was fucking. Living in his apartment room for like 2 months and they did not ask his roommates if that was ok.

This is all bad enough, but apparently about a month into dating together and living in his apparartment she started getting bored when he had classes and was out. So, instead of going out by herself, or getting a hobby, she decided to adopt a kitten! She tells the guy hey let’s adopt a kitten, he considers it for less than 15 mins and they fucking go to a cat store and adopt a kitten. When he’s about to go back to the us in 3 weeks. They post the kitten on their wechats and dress him in little clothes and stuff and do a kind of ohhh isn’t it cute that we have a kitten now bit for about 1 week (they adopted the kitten on Sunday may 19). On Tuesday may 21st, the guy decides to go traveling around southern China and leaves the kitten w the girl. On Thursday may 23rd, my roommates go to help give the kitten medicine because he had ear mites and the girl is like heyyy I actually want to go to Suzhou for like. A night. Actually scratch that like 2-3 nights. Can you take care of the kitten? She had not met my roommates previously neither had the USguy but they sure were willing to leave the kitten in our dorm room! I was out of town at the time, but when I got back on Sunday the 26th, the kitten was still in our dorm room, the girl was back, but posting herself getting cocktails and coffee on her WeChat moments having never asked once about how her kitten was doing at a strangers house. At this point my roommates and I were very worried that with how irresponsible these two had acted when it came down to it and they couldn’t take care of the kitten anymore they would just abandon him on the streets and basically leave him to die, so we staged an intervention first w the guy and then w the two of them.

When we confronted the guy, he literally blamed her for everything, saying “oh it’s his first pet” and “she has a cat at home, so I figured she knew what she was doing.” SCUMMY, but unfortunately I was not surprised because at this point to me he was the scum of the earth. When we confronted the two of them it seemed like she had actually come up with a plan on her own, to take the kitten back to her hometown w her and give him to her aunt! My roommates and I were very relieved because 1) there was finally an adult involved in this situation and 2) we definitely couldn’t take the kitten w us because of import laws and how the flight would be so long it would actually be dangerous for the kitten’s health. So the kitten was guaranteed a future with someone who seemed to actually have experience caring for animals and also care for their well-being! We ended up keeping the kitten for one more night because the 2 of them wanted to go to Disneyland, and then, on Thursday the 30th, we returned the kitten. My roommates went traveling that day for the weekend, so I had the apartment to myself. That Friday I was a bit sick so took time to recover rather than checking on the kitten. That Saturday, I went to go see how the kitten was settling in, and apply his medicine. I hung out in their apartment for like 10-15 minutes and then they were like, “oh, we have to leave to ship him to shenyang!” I was like HUH? They had somehow gotten some pet transport service to get him on a train ride to Shenyang. In retrospect, this was a pretty good thing and probably set up by the aunt (cause those 2 definitely didn’t know what they were doing) but at the time holllyyyy shit did it freak me out!!!! I was following them around their apartment as they packed asking questions like, “you’re gonna give him water for the trip, right?! Right???!!!?!!?!” And making sure they gave him more than a days worth of food so he would have food on arrival and making sure that he had a cloth in his carrier and then they were off! It was actually a good service, not the thrown into a pile of luggage and left in a dark room w no food and water that I was catastrophising about at the time but wow! Did that freak me out!!

The kitten did arrive safely in Shenyang and the two of them also went there to introduce the USguy to her family I guess??? I mean. I don’t think that the relationship will last with him going back to the US (today, Jun 8) but we’ll see! I’m still on her WeChat moments and she literally posts when she gets her period so I will keep you posted on if/when they break up!

Anyway I need to tell as many people this fucking crazy story as possible because it was stressing me out soooo bad while it happened!

i can't describe my feeling right now

[hischierdevils]

Hell Week Prompt List

Since the Devils shut out the Rangers tonight I’m opening requests back up!

I’ll be taking blurb requests for any player on the New Jersey Devils from this prompt list until Sunday April 30th at 8pm EST.

Rules:

1. I’ll only write these prompts for Devils players. (This includes players I haven’t written for before: Dawson, Mikey, Bastian etc…)

2. You must send in the full prompt. (Example: 1. Can we have date night tonight?) I will delete the request if you don’t put the whole thing.

3. Please be patient with me. I do have a full time job and I write when I can. It may take me a few days to get to your request!

Prompt list:

“Can we have a date night tonight?”

“Do you know you're pretty” 

“Why are you being a pain?” 

“Stop simping for me you simp” 

“Your blushing you idiot” 

“Are you kidding me? I love cuddles” 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“I just want to lay here all day” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I really need you right now”

“I like you.. well no… I love you” 

“I love your smile” 

“You sent me inappropriate pictures. When I was out in public” 

“Why are you so clingy?” 

“Fine. We can stay home tonight” 

“Dance with me in the rain” 

“Can I sit on your lap?” 

“Kiss me please!” 

“This still smells like you” (long distant or for breakups) 

“Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 

“Stop you’re making me blush in public” 

“Don’t… I’m ticklish —“ 

“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

“I had a nightmare…”

“I care about you”

“You mean everything to me”

“You make me feel like I’m at home.”

“Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one”

“Stop denying it! You need sleep”

“You’re so adorable.”

“You make me so happy.”

“I need tampons”

“I don’t ever want to lose you”

“I feel better now that you’re here with me”

“I feel safe when I’m with you”

“I can’t reach the top shelf.. Can you help?”

“Here take my jacket.”

“I just started my period…”

 “I’m right here baby, it’s okay”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m never leaving you.”

“You're mine forever.”

“Should we make it official?”

“You promised me.”

“You lied. You said you would never leave me.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know everything”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I loved you.”

“Why don’t you trust me”

“This can’t be goodbye.”

“Please don’t walk out.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t love you.”

“I just wanted to be enough for you.”

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Stop saying sorry! It’s always ‘I’m sorry’. When you really aren’t”

“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?”

“You thought I was dumb.”

“I know you’re lying.”

“Why did I fall in love with you?”

“I’m so stupid to think we had something.”

“You never cared about me.”

“You cheated on me.”

“Us? There was never an ‘us’.”

“You broke my heart so carelessly. Now you want forgiveness?”

“You don’t deserve me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You're always mad at me.”

“What do you want? Because I couldn’t care less.”

“You talked to her and then lied about it.”

“You told people that you were single…”

“Where’s your new gf/bf?”

“Shouldn’t you be with your new gf/bf”

“This is goodbye.”

“I can’t live without you.’

“Our relationship is in the past. I’m sorry.”

“I like someone else.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“How did you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I think it’s best if we don’t meet again.”

“You didn’t love me, did you?”

“I hope you're happier.”

“At least you got what you wanted”

“We can’t keep talking. This isn’t healthy.”

“You're not the same person I fell in love with.”

“You don’t own me.”

“You act like everything is fine when it’s not!”

“Can we not argue for once.”

“I don’t fall in love. I don’t want to be loved or love someone else.”

“Why did I even think I could be enough for you?”

“I needed to hold you one more time.”

“I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”

“Don’t bother to call me when you need something later.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was just mad..”

“Please forgive me.”

“Why are you suddenly coming back into my life when I just started doing well?"

“Do you not understand the words ‘I’m done’.”

"You were supposed to be my wife"

"He/she could never compare to you."

"We used to be so in sync but t's like we speak two different languages now."

[abbygrabska]

Fear Her

I follow the Doctor out of the Tardis.

There’s a Shayne Ward poster advertising his greatest hits album tacked onto a fence.

“So, near future?” “I had a passing fancy. Only it didn’t pass, it stopped.”

We walk down the road with a ‘London 2012’ banner.

“30th Olympia.” I link my arm through his, “This is great.” He beams, “Only seems like yesterday a few naked Greek blokes were tossing a discus about… wrestling each other in the sands with crowds stood about, begging… no, wait a minute… that was Club Med.” He laughs at his joke, nudging me, “Just in time for the opening doo dah, ceremony… tonight, I thought you’d like that. The last one they had in London was dynamite. Wembley, 1948. I loved it so much and watched it all over again. Fella carrying the torch… lovely chap, what was his name?” I notice several missing posters tacked to the lamppost, moving closer to investigate, while the Doctor carries on oblivious.

“Doctor…”

He rambles on.

“Doctor?”

He continues.

“You should look.”

“Do you know those, those things?” He finally walks over to me, “Nobody else in this entire galaxy’s ever even bothered to make edible ball bearings. Genius.” He reads the posters, “What’s taking them, do you think?” He looks around the street, “Snatching children from a thoroughly ordinary street like this. Why’s it so cold…?” Is something reducing the temperature…?”

“It says they all went missing this week? What would do something like this?” I turn at the sound of a door opening, a woman dumps a recycling sack on the pavement outside her house and hurries back inside.

“Whatever it is, it’s got the whole street scared to death. Doctor, what…?” I turn to look at the Doctor, but he’s already at the other end of the road.”

I hurry along the road, a car jolts to a stop as the engine gives up. Stopping to watch there’s a council worker, approaching the vehicle.

“There you go. Fifth today. Not natural, is it?” “I dunno what happened, I had it serviced less than a month ago.”

“Nah, don’t even try and explain it, mate. All the cars are doing it. And do you know what? It’s bonkers. Bonkers.” The driver gets out of the car.

“Come on then, pal. I’ll help you shift it. The quicker you’re on the way, the happier you’ll be.” The two of them start to push the car.

“Do you want a hand?” I ask.

“No, we’re all right, love.” I grin, “No you’re not. I’m tougher than I look, honest.”

I position myself behind the car and help push. The engine suddenly springs to life, causing the councilman to fall over.

“Does this happen a lot?” “Been doing it all week.” He grunts.

“Since those children started going missing?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” “Every car cuts out. The council is going nuts. I mean, they’ve given this street the works. Renamed it… I’ve been tarmacking every pothole…” He gestures proudly, “Look at that. Beauty, init? Yep! And all that is because that Olympic Torch comes right by the end of this close. Just down there. Everything’s got to be perfect, ain’t it? Only it ain’t.” “It takes ‘em when they’re playing.” “What makes them?”

“Danny… Jane… Dale… snatched in the blink of an eye.” I can hear the Doctor pleading to a man, who looks about to beat him up.

“We’ve had plenty of coppers poking around here, and you don’t look, or sound, like any of them.”

The Doctor points at me, “See, look! I’ve got a colleague!”

I give the man a wave.

“Well, she looks more like a copper than you do at least.” The Doctor brandishes the psychic paper at the man.

“What are you going to do?” “The police have knocked on every door, no clues, no leads, nothing.”

“Look, kids run off sometimes, all right? That’s what they do…”

“Dale Hixon in your garden, playing with your Tommy, and then…!” The old woman mimics something disappearing, “Right in front of me, like he was never there! There’s no need to look any further than this street. It’s right here amongst us.” “Why don’t we…” The Doctor starts.

“Why don’t we start with him.” A neighbor points at the councilman, “There’s been all sorts like him in this street, day and night.” “Fixing things up for the Olympics!” Everyone starts shouting at each other.

I cover my ears, “SHUT UP!”

They all stop.

“Now then. In the last six days, three of your children have been stolen. Snatched out of thin air, right?” The Doctor asks.

The old woman raises her hand, and the Doctor motions for her to go ahead.

“Look around you… this was a safe street ‘til it came. It’s not a person. I’ll say it if no one else will. Maybe you’re coppers, maybe you’re not. I don’t care who you are. Can you please help us?” I notice a little girl watching us from the window.

The assumed mother notices me watching and turns around to look up at the window before hurrying back inside.

The Doctor and I stand outside the man’s house, the Doctor is sniffing around the front lawn like a drug dog.

“Can you smell it?” I smell the air.

“What does it remind you of?” “Metal.”

The Doctor nods, “Mm-hm!” The Doctor waves to the man before we exit the yard.

We walk down a narrow alleyway.

“Danny Edwards cycled in one end but never came out the other.” He seems to feel something again, “Whoa, there it goes again!” He shows me the back of his hand, “Look at the hairs on the back of my manly hairy hand.” I inhale again, “And there’s that smell… it’s like a… burnt fuse plug or something.” “There’s a residual energy in the spots where the kids vanished. Whatever it was, it used an awful lot of power to do this.”

I’m walking a few paces behind the Doctor when I notice a ginger cat.

“Aren’t you a beautiful boy?”

I pet him, “My grandma use to have one like you.” The cat meows.

I turn and see the Doctor watching uncomfortably.

“What?” “I’m not a cat person. Once you’ve been threatened by one in a nun’s wimple, it kind of takes the joy out of it.” The cat wanders over to a cardboard box.

“Come here, baby.”

The cat climbs inside the box.

“What do you wanna go in there for?” There’s a whooshing sound, and the cat’s meow echoes slightly. I peer inside the box, it’s empty.

“Doctor?” He hurries over to me.

I stand up as the smell hits me.

He waves the smell away and picks up the empty cardboard box, “Iron residue. Blimey! That takes some doing!” He turns the box around, impressed, “Just to snatch a living organism out of space/time. I’m impressed.”

“So the cat’s been transported?”

“It can harness huge reserves of ionic power.” He points out, “We need to find the source of that power.” He looks around, “FInd the source and you will find… whatever has taken to stealing children and fluffy animals. See what you can see.” He taps me on the shoulder, “Keep ‘em peeled, Abby.” I nod, and he walks off.

I walk down a dead end. It’s eerily quiet except for a dog barking. Something crashes from inside one of the garages. I turn. The initial crash is followed by several smaller ones as I approach the garage door.

“Is that you kitty? Are you trapped?” There is a sound of something metal rolling along the floor from within. I put my ear against the door, and jump back at the sound of another crash.

I open the door and get attacked by a violent tangle of wires, making a strange buzzing sound.

I fall backward.

“Stay still!” The Doctor runs to me, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the giant scribble, and it convulses, collapsing into a small ball that falls into my hand.

The Doctor stands over me, “Okay?” He holds his hand out and pulls me to my feet.

“Yeah, thanks.” “No problem.” We both look at the object in my hand.

“I’ll give you a fiver if you can tell me what the hell it is.” He pokes it with the sonic screwdriver, “Cause I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Was it alive?”

He takes it from my hand, “Nope. It’s animated by energy. The same energy that’s snatching people.” He throws it up and down, “That is so dinky! The go-anywhere creature. Fits in your pocket… makes friends, impresses the boss… breaks the ice at parties…” He puts it in his pocket.

I laugh as we walk off.

The Doctor has put the object on the Tardis console for analysis.

“Oh, hi ho, here we go. Let’s have a look.” We watch the computer screen, which displays Gallifreyan symbols.

“Get out of here…” He takes a pencil from his pocket and holds the object out before him. He uses the eraser at the end of the pencil to rub out part of the object, “It is! It’s graphite! The same material as an HB pencil.” “I was attacked by a pencil scribble?” “Scribble creature.” He sniffs at it, “Brought into being with ionic energy. Whatever we’re dealing with, it can create things as well as take them. But why make a scribble creature?!”

“Maybe it was a mistake? I mean, you scribble over something when you wanna get rid of it. Like a drawing.” I realize something, “Like a child’s drawing.” He glances at me, “You said it was in the street.”

“Probably.” “The girl, something about her gave me the creeps, even her mom looked scared of her.”

“Are you deducing?” He leans in.

“I think I am.”

The door opens.

“Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Abby. Can we see your daughter?” “No! You can’t.” The woman says.

“Okay! Bye.”

We start to walk away.

“Why?” We turn in unison.

“Why do you want to see Chloe?”

“Well, there’s some interesting stuff going on in the street, and I just thought, well, we thought, that she might like to give us a hand.” “Sorry to bother you.” “Yeah, sorry. We’ll let you get on with things. On your own. Bye again!” We turn and start to walk off again.

“Wait!”

We turn again.

The expression on the woman’s face is helpless.

“Can you help her?”

The Doctor smiles, “Yes, I can.”

I sit down on the sofa, while the Doctor flings his coat down next to me.

“She stays in her room, most of the time. I try talking to her, but it’s like trying to speak to a brick wall. She gives me nothing, just asks to be left alone.”

“What about Chloe’s dad?” “Chloe’s dad died a year ago.” Trish seems uncomfortable with the topic.

“I see.” “Well! Let’s go and say hi!” The Doctor speaks brightly.

“I should check on her first… she might be asleep.”

“Why are you afraid of her, Trish?” “I want you to know before you see her that she’s a great kid.” “I’m sure she is.” “She’s never been in trouble at school… you should see her report from last year. As and Bs.” She smiles at me, proud.

I smile back, “Can I use your toilet?”

She nods.

I leave the room, going up the stairs.

On the landing, there's a shadow blocking out the light from the crack beneath Chloe’s bedroom door, and there is the sound of movement from within.

I hide in a nearby cupboard, watching Chloe leave her room, and hear her go down the stairs.

I exit the cupboard and enter Chloe’s bedroom, looking at the hundreds of drawings covering the walls.

The wardrobe doors rattle and I jump, nearly knocking over a pencil holder. There’s a drawing of a boy, baring his teeth at me.

There’s another rattling from the wardrobe. I slowly open the door, peering inside. The wind is rustling the clothes. I part the clothes to see the back of the wardrobe, and a red light floods the space, reflecting off my face. There’s a picture of an angry bearded man, the light is coming from his eyes.

“I’m coming…”

“Doctor!”

He runs into the room, slamming the wardrobe doors.

“What the hell was that?” Trish asks.

“A drawing of an angry man.” “What man?” She tries to open the doors, but I stop her.

“What’ve you been drawing?” “I drew him yesterday.” “Who?” “Dad.”

“Your dad? But he’s long gone. Chloe, with all the lovely things in the world, why him?” “I dream about him, staring at me.” “I thought we were putting him behind us. What’s the matter with you?” “We need to stay together.” “Yes, we do.”

“No. not you. Us. we need to stay together and then it’ll be all right.” Trish goes over to her, putting her hands on her daughter’s cheek. Chloe flinches.

“Trish, the drawings, have you seen what Chloe’s drawings can do?” I ask.

She speaks coldly, “Who permitted you to come into her room? Get out of my house.” “Tell us about the drawings, Chloe.” “I don’t wanna hear any more of this.” But that drawing of her dad… I heard a voice. He spoke.” “He’s dead. And these, they’re kids’ pictures. Now get out!”

“Chloe has power. And I don’t know how, but she used it to take Danny Edwards. Dale Hicks, she’s using it to snatch the kids.” “Get out.”

“Have you seen those drawings move?” “I haven’t seen anything.” She denies.

“Yes, you have. Out of the corner of your eye.” Trish turns to him, “No.”

“And you dismissed it, because what choice do you have when you see something you can’t possibly explain?” The Doctor moves over to her, “You dismiss it, right? And if anyone mentions it, you get angry, so it’s never spoken of, ever ag…” “She’s a child…” “And you’re terrified of her. But there’s no one to turn to, because who’s gonna believe the things you see out of the corner of your eye? No one. Except me.” “Who are you?”

“I’m helping.”

Back in the kitchen, the Doctor swipes a jar of marmalade off the counter, unscrews the lid, dips his fingers into it, and starts sucking the jam off. I clear my throat. He pauses, and I shake my head at him, mouthing ‘no’. The Doctor glances at Trish who is just staring at him. He meekly replaces the lid and pushes the jar behind him.

“Those pictures, they’re alive. She’s drawing people and they end up in her pictures.” “Ionic energy. Chloe’s harnessing it to steal those kids and place them in some kind of holding pen made up of ionic power.”

“And what about the dad from hell in her wardrobe?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? He’s dead.” “Well, he’s got a very loud voice for a dead man.” “If living things can become drawings, then maybe drawings can become living things…” He suddenly shivers violently, “Chloe’s real dad is dead, but not the one who visits her in her nightmares. That dad seems very real. That’s the dad she’s drawn and he’s a heartbeat away from crashing into this world.” “She always got the worst of it when he was alive.” “Doctor, how can a twelve-year-old girl be doing any of this?” He speaks after a pause, “Let’s find out.” He strides off.

We enter Chloe’s bedroom. She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed.

The Doctor stands before her, looking down at her.

She says nothing but does the ‘live long and prosper’ sign.

“Nice one.” He kneels in front of her, holding her head in his hands, fingers on her temples.

Her eyes roll in her head for a moment before closing. He closes his own eyes before Chloe suddenly falls backward on the bed.

“There we go…” Trish moves towards them in concern, “I can’t let him do this…”

I stop her, “It’s okay. Trust him.”

The Doctor straightens up, “Now we can talk.”

When Chloe speaks, her voice comes out as a strange whisper.

“I want Chloe. Wake her up. I want Chloe.” “Who are you?” The Doctor asks.

“I want Chloe Webber!” “What’ve you done to my little girl?” “Doctor, what is it?” The Doctor slowly walks around the bed, all while looking down at Chloe, “I’m speaking to you. The entity that is using this human child. I request parley in compliance with the Shadow Proclamation.” “I don’t care about shadows or parley.” “So what do you care about?” “I want my friends.” The Doctor kneels by her, “You’re lonely, I know. Identify yourself.” “I am one of many. I travel with my brothers and sisters. We take an endless journey. A thousand of your lifetimes. But now I am alone. I hate it. It’s not fair. And I hate it!” Her eyes snap open.

“Name yourself!”

“Isolus.” “You’re Isolus. Of course.” “Our journey began in the Deep Realms when we were a family.” She is drawing on a piece of paper next to her on the bed whilst speaking.

“What’s that?” The drawing begins to take shape.

“The Isolus Mother, drifting in Deep Space.” He stands, “See, she jettisons millions of fledgling spores. Her children. The Isolus are empathetic beings of intense emotions, but when they’re cast off from their mother, their empathic link, their need for each other, is what sustains them. They need to be together. They cannot be alone.” “Our journey is long.” “The Isolus children travel, each inside a pod. They ride the heat and energy of solar tides. It takes thousands of years for them to grow up.”

“Thousands of years just floating through space… I’m sure you play lots of games to pass the time.” I smile, “All that ionic energy must make wonderful worlds for you.” “Why did you come to Earth?” “We were too close.”

She rips the piece of paper she is drawing off the pad and starts a new one.

“That’s a solar flare from your sun. would’ve made a tidal wave of solar energy that scattered the Isolus pods.” “Only I fell to Earth. My brothers are sisters are left up there. And I cannot reach them. So alone.” “Your pod crashed… where is it?” “My pod was drawn to heat… And I was drawn to Chloe Webber. She was like me. Alone. She needed me. And I, her.”

The Doctor strokes Chloe’s head, “You empathized with her. You wanted to be with her because she was alone like you.”

“I want my family. It’s not fair.” “I understand. You wanna make a family. But you can’t stay in this child it’s wrong. You can’t steal any more friends for yourself.” “I am alone.” There is another thump from the wardrobe.

“I’m coming to hurt you.” Chloe starts to shake and tremble in fear, although her face remains impassive. There is a pounding on the door of the wardrobe.

“Trish, how do you calm her?” I ask, “When she has nightmares, what do you do?”

“I sing to her.” “Then start singing.” I lead her over to Chloe, letting her sit next to Chloe’s seizing body.

“Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he…” 

The banging and thumping on the door continue. The Doctor and I look over at it.

Trish continues singing until the voice eventually fades, and Chloe is asleep.

“He came to her because she was lonely… Chloe, I’m sorry.” She buries her head in her daughter's shoulder, arms around her, sobbing.

Trish strides around the sitting room, gathering all the pencils around the room, “Chloe usually got the brunt of his temper. When he’d had a drink. The day he crashed the car, I thought we were free.” I hand her a bunch of pencils.

“I thought it was over.” “Did you ever talk to her about it?” “I didn't want to.” “Maybe that’s why Chloe feels so alone. Cause she has all these terrible dreams about her dad, but she can’t talk to you about them.”

“Her and the Isolus… two lonely kids who need each other.”

“And it won’t stop, will it? It’ll just keep pulling kids in. Desperate to be loved.”

“It’s used to a pretty big family.”

“How big?” “Say around… four billion?”

The Doctor shrugs his coat on as we leave Trish’s house.

“We need that pod.” “It crashed, but if it’s sucking in all the heat it can, it should be good to launch, right?”

I spot Chloe from the window.

“It must be close. It should have a weak energy signature that the Tardis can trace. Once we find it, then we can stop the Isolus.”

“We can scan for the same trace we picked up from the scribble creature. Just need to widen the field a bit.” He pulls the Tardis key out and opens the door. We go inside.

The doctor fumbles with some device, putting it together.

“You knew the Isolus was lonely before it told you.” I look at him, “It’s because you've traveled on your own for so long isn’t it?”

He nods, “Give me the stina…” He pauses, “The thing in your left hand.”

I slot the thing into the device while the Doctor holds it still between his legs.

“I sympathize, that’s all. That’s why it went to Chloe, two lonely kids.” He blows on the device.

I stay silent, chewing my gum.

“Binary dot.” I hand him the binary dot.

“You’re being quiet.” He holds his hand out under my mouth, “Gum.”

I spit it into his hand, “It’s just… even with my three siblings, I always felt isolated from them. And all the cousins I have are older than me by two decades at least. It was fine at first, but then my siblings stopped wanting to do what I wanted, which is fine, but it’s like they didn’t care about me anymore. Had I been born in a different year, maybe the Isolus would’ve attached to me. I doubt my family would’ve even noticed a difference in me.”

“I’m sure they would’ve.”

“Maybe my sister and dad, but not the others. I’ve always been quiet.”

I notice the screen showing the pod in the street. I point at it.

“Everything’s coming up Doctor!” He scoots off towards the door.

I follow after him.

He shuts the door behind him, “Okay, it’s about two inches across. Dull gray, like a gull egg. Very light.” “So these pods, they travel from sun to sun using heat?”

There's a crash from behind me, the Doctor is gone.

“Doctor?” 

The Tardis is gone too.

I barge into Trish’s house.

“It’s okay! I’ve taken all the pencils off her!” I burst into Chloe’s room, grabbing the paper she was drawing on. It’s the Doctor and the Tardis.

“Leave me alone! I want to be with Chloe Webber! I love Chloe Webber!” “He was the only one who could’ve helped you, now bring him back!”

“Leave me alone! I love Chloe Webber!”

I turn my attention to the paper I’m holding, “Doctor, if you can hear me, I’m gonna get you out of there. I’ll find the pod.” I look at Trish, “Don’t leave her alone, no matter what.” I leave the room and go into the street. “Kel, was there anything in the street in the last few days giving off a lot of heat?”

He’s not listening, talking about a lump on the tarmac.

I think for a moment, “Hot tar.”

I turn and enter his van, grabbing a pickaxe out.

I ignore him, bringing the pickaxe down on the road, hacking until I have a hole. I grab the pod, “It went for the hottest thing in the street. Your tar!”

“What is it?” “It’s a spaceship!” I examine it.

I run into Trish’s house again, “I found it. I don’t know what to do with it, but maybe the Isolus will just hop on board.” I realize Trish is alone, “I told you not to leave her alone!” The commentator draws my attention.

The crowds in the stadium have vanished, leaving it deserted. Kel appears at the living room door, he starts to chastise me, but I point at the tv, “Shut up and look!”

I stride up the stairs and try to open the door, “Chloe, it’s Abby! Open the door! We found your ship! We can send you home!” I break the door down with the pickaxe, knocking the chair out of the way, and opening the door.

I start to go forward, but the wardrobe doors rattle particularly violently, and step back.

“If you stop Chloe Webber, I will let him out. We will let him out together. I cannot be alone. It’s not fair.” I hold out the pod to her, “I got your pod.” “The pod is dead.” Kel says something about a picture moving.

I look, there’s a sketch of the Olympic Torch next to the Doctor, and he’s pointing at it.

I run out of the house, listening to the commentator talk about the torch being a beacon of love.

I push through the crowds until a policeman stops me.

The torch bearer passes by and the pod begins to chirp.

I back out of the crowd, “You felt it, didn’t you?” I bring the pod close to my face, whispering, “Feel the love.”

I throw it into the air, watching as it draws to the torch. It lands in the flames and I cheer out.

I watch everyone get reunited, wondering where the Doctor is. I jump when someone touches my arm.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you did, but thank you, darling!” Maeve kisses my cheek, “And thank that man for me too!” She walks away.

I scan the street with growing anxiety, “Where is he? He should be here. All the drawings have come to life.” I look up at Chloe’s bedroom window, “That means all of them. No.” I run to the house and bang on the front door, “Trish, get out!”

“I can’t! The door’s stuck!”

I can hear Chloe’s scared voice.

“Chloe, listen to me. It isn’t real like the others. It’s just energy left over by the Isolus, but you can get rid of it!”

“Help us!” “I know you’re scared that he’s real, but he’s not, and you can get rid of him!”

“I’m with you, Chloe. You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again.”

I pound on the door, “Sing again! Chloe, sing!”

I see the light fade as Chloe and Trish’s voices get louder.

I sigh with relief, sliding down the door, sinking to the floor.

Kel approaches me, “Maybe he’s gone somewhere.”

We enter the house, watching the tv.

“Eighty thousand people, so where’s the Doctor?” I whimper, “I need him.” “The torch bearer seems to be in a bit of trouble. We did see a flash of lightning earlier which seemed to strick him… maybe he’s injured… he’s definitely in trouble.” The torch bearer collapses, “Does this mean that the Olympic Dream is dead?” A familiar brown-clad arm picks up the torch.

I smile, “Doctor…” The Doctor starts to run with the torch alongside the crowds.

“There’s a mystery man, he’s picked up the flame… we’ve no idea who he is… he’s carrying the flame, yes! He’s carrying the flame and no one wants to stop him. It’s more than a flame now, Bob. it’s more than heat and light. It’s hope. And it’s courage. And it’s love.” The Doctor runs up the red-carpeted stairs with the torch, the spotlight following him. The Doctor faces the crowds with a huge grin on his face, whooping.

I creep up behind the Doctor, a grin on my face, “Cake?” He turns. I’m holding out a cupcake with edible ball bearings. He starts to laugh, and so do I.

He takes it from me, “Top banana!” He takes a bite out of it while I watch, grinning from ear to ear.

“Mm. I can’t stress this enough. Ball bearings you can eat, a masterpiece!” I watch him for a few more seconds before throwing my arms around him, holding tight, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Nah! Not on a night like this! This is a night for lost things being found. Come on!”

Fireworks explode overhead as we walk down the street, hand in hand.

“You know what; they keep on trying to split us up, but they never ever will.” He looks at me, coming to a halt, “Never say never.” “Nah. we’ll always be okay, you and me.”

The Doctor looks skyward, reflecting for a moment, as though he senses something, “Something in the air. Something’s coming.” “What?”

We look up at the sky, which is lit up with fireworks.

“A storm’s approaching.”

[hansomeskz]

Devil Like Me Chapter 4

Han Jisung is the devil of the music industry, but he’s tired of being alone.

Read on Ao3 | Read on Wattpad | Talk to me on Twitter | Chat on retrospring

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Epilogue

NOTE: I am trying to decide which fic I want to post next!! I was going to post a fic I have inspired by Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine but I also have one ready to go inspired by The 30th by Billie Eilish!! let me know which you would prefer :’)

The three of them keep their word, plotting when Jisung is not around. They spend spare time between 3Racha events whispering, huddled together. Jisung chooses to mind his business, carrying out any tasks handed to him by their manager.

He hears a lot from Chan about how he should just give up the act but the idea of angering their team any further when things are already so bad for them makes him feel sick. In the wake of the boardroom showdown, their schedule has become a living hell, especially for Jisung.

They seem to be trying to keep him busy so he has less energy to fight back, and it really is working. Each day is hours of rehearsal or recording sessions, followed closely by appearance after appearance. Jisung has done more interviews and attended more parties in the past few weeks than he has in his entire career.

He’s so exhausted that when his manager points out Chan across the room, suggesting Jisung goes and starts something, he does it without a second thought. He approaches Chan, shoving him harder than he’d intended.

Chan looks at him, completely unbothered. “What’s up?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Jisung wears the angry face that everyone around them expects, but he has no fight left in him. “She told me to start a fight but I don’t… I don’t have anything to be angry about,” he says simply. Chan’s face morphs into fake hurt to match Jisung’s act. “You threw a drink at me once because my shirt was ‘too expensive’, there’s nothing you’re upset about here?”

“Your shoes are fucking stupid, but you love them.” Jisung grabs Chan’s collar, pulling him close to sneer in his face. “I can’t find a single thing to even pretend to be mad about.”

Chan pushes at Jisung in fake desperation until he finally lets go. “That’s good, Ji. Do you get to go after this?”

“I don’t think so,” he says quietly, scowling as Chan takes a step back, scoffing at him for appearances. “I hope you get to leave soon, man. How many shots have you even had?”

“I stopped counting forty minutes ago.”

“Fuck, dude.” He flinches when Jisung gives him one last shove. “If you hit me hard enough, I bet they’d let me go,” he jokes. Chan seems to consider it before he turns and stalks off, a sour look on his face.

Jisung watches him as he heads to security. He sees Chan point towards him and speak angrily to the man before the security guard starts to approach him.

Their manager and his bodyguard are quick to roll up behind him when they realize this is going to foil any plans they had tonight, but it’s no use.

They spend well over twenty minutes arguing to keep Jisung at the party. While his manager’s shrill voice carries through the party, Minho texts Jisung to let him know that he’s waiting in his car outside. Jisung tells him he won’t be long.

Ultimately security wins, forcefully removing the three of them from the party.

When Jisung quickly approaches Minho’s car and slides in, the doors locking behind him, his manager starts screaming at him. He chooses not to listen, instead stealing a kiss from Minho over the centre console.

“How did you know I was getting kicked out?”

“Chan texted me. I thought you’d want a getaway car.” Minho smiles lightly, glancing at him before looking back to the road.

“You always come through when I need you, Min.”

“I hope I always will,” he says quietly, placing a hand on Jisung’s thigh. “You stink, baby. You smell like my parents’ liquor cabinet.”

“I did an unholy amount of tequila shots, don’t ask.”

“Tequila? And you’re not crying?” Minho squeezes his thigh gently and Jisung is actually a little surprised. “Huh, I guess not.”

“It sounds like this is all helping,” the older boy says, smiling to himself. Jisung smiles too, warmth spreading through his chest.

He does have to admit now that he has Minho, Chan, and Changbin in his corner, things have gotten a lot easier. He’s glad he isn’t alone anymore.

They go back to the dorms this time and as they step into Jisung’s room, he can’t help but notice all of the mail is missing.

“Chan gave me a key,” Minho starts. “We thought maybe you’d want them gone.”

Jisung nods softly, turning to look at him. “Thank you, Minho. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

The brunet just kisses his forehead and finds them both a change of clothes, helping Jisung out of his party wear and into a pair of sweats before he changes, too.

They crawl under the covers together, curling close. Jisung’s body is exhausted but his mind is racing, thinking of what’s next.

Minho dozes next to him, making small humming noises every time Jisung shifts positions. The blond feels very lucky that things turned out this way, even if it was a hard road for him. He thinks that even if they can’t escape their contract, he could live the next few years like this.

Changbin and Chan enter the apartment not too much later, giggling on their way through the living room and down the hall. Jisung hears them stall outside his door, whispers not quite reaching his ears.

When Chan quietly peeks inside through the cracked door, Jisung turns his head to look at him. They exchange sleepy smiles before Minho pulls Jisung closer, grumbling about how Jisung should be asleep by now.

Chan laughs softly before he disappears from the doorway, making his way to his own room. Jisung buries his face into Minho’s neck.

“Why are you still awake?” The Minho whines, hands slipping under the younger boy’s shirt to try and pull him somehow closer.

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna share?”

“I’m just… happy. I’m fucking tired, but I’m happy,” Jisung says quietly, curling his fingers against Minho’s chest.

The brunet hums happily, giving him a squeeze. “I’m happy to hear it, baby. You deserve it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You would’ve reached your limit eventually. I’m just glad I was there to make sure somebody was taking care of you.” Minho presses a kiss to the top of Jisung’s head, shifting so he’s half on top of the blond.

Jisung takes in Minho’s warmth, exhaustion starting to take over. While he can’t make out what the older boy says as he drifts off, it makes him feel loved.

The real war between them and the company starts when Chan’s tell-all comes out. The interview is 20 minutes long with Chan exposing all of the things he knows of that the company has done to Jisung.

The part that surprises Jisung the most is that Chan tries to take the blame for Jisung’s public persona, too. He and Minho are curled up on the couch in Minho’s apartment, watching everything unfold.

“The worst part is, it’s kind of my fault,” Chan says to the interviewer. Jisung gasps, shaking his head.

“I knew Han really well when we started out, and I just assumed that after debut he’d let the popularity get to his head. I wish I’d known better than to let them portray him as a monster when he was just doing what our management told him would help the group.” Chan sounds choked up, swallowing hard as the interviewer asks him another question.

“It’s not his fault,” Jisung says to Minho, furrowing his brows. Minho is frowning at the TV, the arm he has around the younger boy tightening its grip.

“No, that’s the worst part,” Chan says to the question Jisung missed. “The label knew about all of this, the death threats, the damage it was doing to our Hannie. They just didn’t care. It was doing numbers so why bother, I guess.”

“How does Han feel about telling everyone about this?”

“He’s scared out of his mind. Hell, I’m scared too. He just couldn’t keep living like that, it was going to drive him to…” Chan trails off but the interviewer nods in understanding.

“So why isn’t he the one telling everyone this?” The interviewer asks this as he leans forward. The blank expression he is sending to Chan makes Jisung’s blood run cold.

“Like I said, he’s scared. Ever since it came out to us that he was doing all of this we’ve been begging him to drop the act, but he doesn’t want to go against the company. I just… I had to do something to get him out of the situation. Maybe this will help. I hope if nothing else, this helps him be himself.”

Jisung blinks back tears as the interviewer starts to wrap up the show. Minho gives him a little squeeze, looking at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking terrified, Minho.”

“I know, but you’re free now. It’s all out in the open. No more being somebody else,” Minho says quietly.

“What if I’m not? What if we’ve done everything we have and I still have to be the same guy I was before all of this?”

“Don’t let it happen, Ji. Han is dead, okay? Just… be Jisung.” Minho presses a kiss to the side of his head, smiling reassuringly.

Jisung opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by the sound of his ringtone. Chan’s name is displayed over a picture of them from pre-debut. He hesitates, but he does answer the call. “Hello?”

“It’s done, Han-ah. It’s all out there. Are you at Minhos? Changbin and I are on our way.”

“You’re coming here?”

“I think if the label calls, it’d be best for us all to be together,” Chan says quietly.

“Okay, yeah. Thank you.” Jisung’s heart is hammering against his rib cage, sweat gathering on his hairline. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt so scared.

Chan and Changbin arrive quickly and the four of them sit together in silence.

When Jisung starts to fidget, picking at the skin on his hands, Minho puts on a show to fill the silence and laces their fingers together.

She takes her sweet time, but their manager does call them that night.

Before Chan can even say hello, she’s screaming down the phone line. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve just caused?”

“I do,” he says simply, hands clasped in front of him. They all huddle around the phone to listen. “Then you must be fucking stupid! We are losing money as we speak, our investors-“

“Let us out of the contract,” Chan demands, voice firm. Jisung admires Chan’s composure, his own hands shaking. “Oh, no, Bang. You’re stuck until you make back every penny we just fucking lost.”

“We aren’t playing your games anymore. Let us out or we’ll only make it worse.” He hears their manager huffing and puffing on the other side of the phone. “Meet me tomorrow at nine in my office. I don’t want to hear another peep from you until then.” The line clicks as she hangs up, and the four of them fall back into silence.

Jisung knows they don’t have to say anything else tonight. The story is already on the internet and will blow itself up without any help at all. The weight of the silence around them suggests the others know this, too.

“We should play scrabble,” Minho says quietly. The absurdity of the statement makes Jisung laugh, which prompts smiles from Chan and Changbin.

“Fuck it, let’s play scrabble,” Changbin agrees. Minho goes and gets the game and they all gather around the board. This moment of normalcy before their lives change forever is completely welcome, Jisung thinks.

Minho breaks out some bottles of wine too, and they spend the night pretending everything is fine. The cats trample the board regularly, all four of them giggling about it.

Jisung feels good, he thinks. This is one of the scariest times of his life, but with these people around him, he feels like he can handle what’s about to come.

Several bottles in, late into the night with Chan and Changbin are asleep on the couch, Jisung and Minho are tangled together in Minho’s armchair, whispering to each other.

“How are you feeling, Ji?” The older boy asks him, running his hands through his blond hair.

“I feel good. I don’t know what it is, Minho, but I feel like everything’s going to be okay.” Jisung smiles at Minho, and he returns it quickly. “I think it will be. Even if it doesn’t go how we all want it to, I think we’ll all be just fine.”

“I think so too,” Jisung says, burying his face in the burnet’s neck. He doesn’t move after that, knowing he has to be up early for the scariest meeting of his life. Minho holds him tight while he falls asleep, keeping him close through the night.

Minho comes with them in the morning, Chan stepping into their manager’s office at exactly 9am. The three of them trail behind their leader, nervous.

Jisung admires how fearless Chan is as he steps right up to her desk. She stares up at him, arms crossed. “You have created the most intense PR crisis I have ever seen in my life,” she says, cocking her head to the side.

“We didn’t do a thing, this was all your shit that caused this,” Chan barks at her. “We want out of the contract.”

“Well,” their manager starts, sneering at him. “If it were up to me I’d keep you stuck here for the next few years. I’d make you work off every penny you just cost us. Lucky for you, it isn’t up to me and the investors want you gone, so we’ve drafted an agreement.” She slides a folder across her desk to Chan. “But we need an answer by Monday.”

Jisung’s shocked, if he’s honest. None of them crack a smile, knowing anything could lie in the pages of the agreement, but he feels a little lighter knowing he’s got a chance to get out of this.

When they turn to leave, their manager speaks up again. “Oh, Han? Keeping your mouth shut is much easier than what you’ll have to go through to clear your name after all of the dust has settled.”

Han shrugs lightly, offering her a small smile. “At least it’ll be my choice to do it.” He turns and follows Minho out of the room.

The next few days are a blur while they go over the terms of the contract and make new demands. By Monday night they’re huddled around a table with the people who used to make up their team and all parties are signing, agreeing to all the terms to separate 3Racha from the label. The notice about it is posted before they’ve even left the building.

Changbin and Chan’s phones start to blow up right away, but not one of them misses how Jisung’s phone stays silent.

“I’m happy you’re out now,” Minho tells him once all four of them are curled up on his couches. Chan and Changbin are texting back all the people wishing them well as Jisung scrolls through Netflix. “Me too. I’m just scared about what it means for all of us, you know? Where do we go from here?”

“A million other labels would love to have you,” the brunet says quietly. “Or we could start our own,” Chan says, and the other three turn to stare.

“Our own?” Changbin asks, frowning. “Yeah, I mean… we can do everything ourselves anyway. The writing and producing we have on lock, and I know choreographers, directors, creatives…” Chan trails off, thinking for a moment. “Yeah. We could do it.”

They all fall quiet, looking at each other. Jisung thinks about how he would usually panic in a scenario like this, but with his thigh pressed firmly against Minho’s and his two best friends by his side, he feels like maybe he can do anything. “I think we should,” he says, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah?” Asks Chan, smiling at him. “Yeah.”

So they do. Weeks turn into months and before they know it, it’s nearly been a year since they split from their label. All four of them are sitting around a table at their favourite bar. They’ve turned this place into their official hangout spot over the past few months, so the waiters know to keep the drinks coming. A few faces have joined their crew, members of the team they’ve built for 3Racha Entertainment.

Jisung finds himself seated across from Felix, head choreographer, and Changbin. They’ve been lip-locked for what feels like hours and he and Minho are trying to break it up by throwing napkins at the two of them. It isn’t working.

“I can’t keep going like this, Ji. If I have to watch this for another second I’m going to combust,” Minho whines, burying his face in his hands. Jisung hears Seungmin, the head of PR, laugh from somewhere down the table. When he looks over, he sees the younger boy lean against Chan, a hand on his thigh.

Hyunjin, their head stylist, elbows him roughly to grab his attention. “Are you going to finish your drink? Jeongin disappeared, I don’t think we’ll ever get another drink again.” Jisung slides his cup towards Hyunjin, laughing. “Last I saw, he went to change so he can come to hang out,” Minho says, voice still muffled by his hands. Jisung curls his fingers around Minho’s wrist, tugging gently.

Jeongin, their favourite bartender, slides into the seat at the head of the table. “There he is!” Chan grins, standing. “Now that we’re all here, I want to raise a toast.” The eldest boy holds up his drink and the seven other boys crowding the table do the same.

“To a brand new beginning! And to the family we’ve built along the way. I can’t wait to do this with all of you.” Chan smiles proudly at all of them, and Jisung’s chest swells. “Cheers to that,” he says, clinking his glass against Minho’s.

The sound of everyone’s glasses knocking together has Jisung’s eyes watering. “Everything okay, Ji?” Minho asks, curling an arm around him. “Too much tequila,” he lies, face growing hotter. “Mmm, my crybaby,” the older coos, kissing Jisung’s temple.

“I’m gonna get some air before I start bawling,” he laughs as he stands. Minho stands, too. “I’m coming with. I don’t want to see Changbin sucking on Felix’s tongue anymore.”

The two of them head outside the bar, sitting on the curb. “Really, are you alright?” Minho cups his cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. Jisung leans into his touch, nodding a little. “Overwhelmed,” he mumbles, scooting closer.

The brunet nods, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Wanna go home?”

“Nah, I’m just…happy. If you’d told me last year that things would end up like this, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.”

Minho laughs lightly at that. “I did tell you, baby.”

“And I didn’t believe you!” Jisung shoots back, giggling. The older boy pulls him closer, grinning. “You didn’t, that’s true.”

They steal kisses from each other in their few moments of peace, only pulling apart when a girl approaches them. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you… Are you Han Jisung?”

He looks up at her with wide eyes. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“Do you think I could get a picture with you? I’m a huge fan.” She’s trembling slightly, a shy smile on her face. He buffers for a moment before his brain registers what she said.  “A picture? Of course.”

He stands shakily, smiling brightly at her. “What’s your name?” He asks, curling an arm around her shoulders for the picture. She tells him before leaning in a little closer, smiling and snapping a photo. Jisung is reeling as she thanks him again and scurries away. “Did she say she’s a big fan?” He asks, looking down at Minho.

The older boy has his phone out, having taken dozens of pictures of the interaction. “She did! Your very first fan interaction, huh?”

“My first good one, at least…” He holds his hand out to Minho to help him up, smiling brightly. “That was so exciting, I can’t believe it.”

Jisung gushes about it for the rest of the night. Nobody at the table teases him for it, knowing what he’s had to go through to get to this moment.

As Minho loads the last boxes of his things into Jisung’s living room, the blond gets a call from an unknown number. He would ignore a call like this on any other day but something in his gut tells him this call might be an important one.

His feeling is confirmed when a shaky voice on the other end answers his greeting. “Jisung, sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

His heart hammers against his ribcage, his face going pale. “Mom?”

“I didn’t know, and I should've. I’m sorry I fell for it, I thought I knew you better than that.” His mom is crying into the phone, voice breaking. Minho is watching him with wide eyes.

“No, Mom… It’s not your fault. It all happened the way they designed it. I didn’t want to drag you into it, so I just pushed you away.”

“I should’ve known. I should’ve known that wasn’t you.” He can hear her gasping for breath between words and his stomach twists. “There was no way you could’ve known…”

“I just called to say I love you and that I’m sorry. I should’ve been there. I should’ve known.” Jisung can feel her shuddering breaths in his bones, tears pricking at his eyes. “I don’t blame you for a second. Thank you, Mom.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I miss you, come home soon?”

“Yeah. I love you too…” His throat closes around the words, his lower lip trembling. “Mom, I have to go, I’m in the middle of moving. We’ll talk soon, alright?”

“Okay. Talk soon.” She sniffs right before she hangs up, leaving Jisung stunned.

“That was your mom?” Minho asks, biting his lip nervously.  “It was. She called to apologize for not being there while everything was happening, but…”

“But what? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I don’t know, I think so, but I’m kind of hurt, I think.” Jisung blinks a couple times, trying to get his thoughts to settle.

Minho approaches him slowly, slipping his arms around his waist. “I think you earned a little hurt in all of this, no?” He presses tender kisses to both sides of the younger boy’s face.

Jisung tries to hide the smile tugging at his lips but it’s no use. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You can accept her apology without jumping right back in. Especially considering how long it took her to reach out, I think that would be okay.” Minho looks at him so tenderly, causing Jisung’s heart to hammer against his rib cage. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I know.” Minho steals one last kiss from him before pulling away. “Now help me move the books, they’re too heavy.” Minho gestures vaguely towards the boxes he packed far too full of books.

Jisung gets to work, feeling grateful he has somebody like Minho to help him through all of this.

As the younger boy slides the books onto his bookshelf, slotted between his own CD collection, the brunet wraps his arms around him from behind.

Jisung smiles lightly, leaning into his touch a little. “I’m happy you’re moving in,” he says quietly. Minho hums in acknowledgment, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s shoulder. “Me the fuck too.”

“I’m also glad this means I get 24/7 access to the cats.”

“Soonie will keep himself out of reach at all times still, baby.”

“Yeah, well, I can dream, can’t I?” Minho laughs in response, giving him a squeeze. “I guess so. I’m gonna order us some dinner, keep working hard.”

Jisung misses his touch the second he disappears to make the order.

All eight of them find themselves crouched around Chan’s laptop the day they announce their new venture. Hyunjin is carrying on about how nervous he is as Chan publishes the official announcement of the launch of 3Racha Entertainment.

Minho has his arms wrapped tightly around Jisung, chin hooked over his shoulder. The younger boy has his hands clasped over Minho’s around his middle, leaning back against him. Jisung lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as his friends erupt into excited chatter around him.

He can’t hear a thing except for Minho’s voice in his ear. “I’m so proud of you, Ji,” he says quietly. The blond’s skin heats up quickly, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“I never could’ve done it without you.” He turns in Minho’s arms, curlings his fingers into the older boy’s shirt and pressing chaste kisses to his lips. “You could’ve, but I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They savour the few moments that they get to themselves before their friends start demanding their attention. Chan pulls Jisung aside as the rest of the group absorbs Minho into their conversation.

“How are you feeling, Jisung-ah?” He smiles lightly at Jisung, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m nervous, maybe even shitting myself, but I’m ready for this.”

Chan laughs, nodding. “Yeah, me too. Are you happy you did it, though?”

“I couldn’t be happier. Thank you, Chan.” Jisung smiles brightly at the older boy who shrugs lightly. “I’m glad you let me in, Ji. I missed my best friend.” Chan pinches his cheek gently, a fond look in his eyes. “I missed you too, man. You know-”

“Jisungie! Can you vouch for my sick beatboxing skills?” Jeongin yells from the huddle a few feet away. Jisung grimaces and pats Chan’s shoulder before joining the group. “I could but I’d be a filthy liar,” he says, earning a good laugh from his friends. Warmth spreads throughout his chest at the sound.

He locks eyes with Minho across the huddle and smiles lightly. Minho smiles back, slipping out of his spot so he can stand next to Jisung instead. He thinks about how lucky he is to have found his people.

A year ago, Jisung had been at his lowest. He’d been completely alone and entirely afraid of what was in store for him. He’s shocked that now he’s surrounded by people he loves, who love him back unconditionally.

Minho’s thumb brushes his cheek as he leans in to whisper into his ear. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“I’ve never been better,” Jisung says quietly. His face is hot, tears pricking at his eyes, but he sends Minho his brightest smile. Minho smiles back, knowing he means it.

Felix’s hand finds his back, too. “Are you crying? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” He grins as he teases him, and the jab draws the attention of the other boys standing around them.

They all coo and pinch at Jisung, teasing relentlessly about the tears now finding their way down his cheeks. He whines, smacking at their hands. “Leave him alone you vultures,” Minho snaps playfully, pulling Jisung in close.

The younger boy laughs against his skin, embarrassed he’s been caught. Chan squeezes into the huddle between Felix and Jisung, patting his back. “We’re happy you’re here, Ji.”

“I am too,” he mumbles. Minho holds him a little tighter as Changbin punches Jisung’s side gently. “We love you, dude.”

“I know.” And he does. He could spend forever with these people, he thinks.

[randomoranges]

silly little thing. semi related to that little comic i did a few days ago. apparently, i had more to say on the matter. also, was gonna bumb up the day when this takes place to match the comic, but then it meant having to fix up things in the other xmas fic and i didnt want to. so i guess that makes it funnier bcs now the weather in edmonton is less cold but ét doesnt like the cold regardless so it still works haha.

once upon a time the lyrics in the titles of these xmas fics were more recognisable. now you have to squint to even try and recognise the original song sometimes lamao

Traveling Where the Westerly Winds Can Fly [When You Pine for the Sunshine of a Friendly Gaze]

 December 30th 2022

 “So, here’s a thought,” Étienne says halfway through their conversation.  He fiddles with the phone for a moment to make sure Edward can see him properly and waits to have his boyfriend’s full attention. “I’m thinking of visiting; maybe sometime next week? I mean, it won’t be as long as my last few visits – ten days max, but, it’s better than nothing, right? If that’s not too last minute!” He’s quick to add. He knows Edward has repeated at least a dozen or so times that he can show up unannounced and that the door is always open, but Étienne still prefers to check, even when he gets these impulsive ideas. He’d hate to intrude and hate to be a bother.

 Edward’s smile is kind and this side of pleased and it quells the one fear that seems to have taken up residence inside Étienne’s mind, “Not that I don’t want you to visit or that it doesn’t sound like a lovely idea, but have you seen what the weather is like over here? And you know it can get much colder even if it looks decent.”

 Étienne takes a moment to tap on his phone, most likely on a weather app of sorts, and Edward watches with fascination as Étienne’s face transforms from hopeful smile to disgusted grimace in mere seconds. “Ah. Well. Never mind then. Ew. How is that even a temperature. Ké, well, I guess I’ll see you in the summer then. Love you. Take care. Bye.”

 Before he even gets a chance to say anything, Étienne hangs up the phone and Edward laughs, so very used to Étienne’s antics once more. He knows better and thus, he waits for the clogs in Étienne’s mind to spin and make the obvious few connections they hadn’t yet made. His boyfriend will be calling back in a moment or so, he’s convinced of it. Therefore, he remains lying on his sofa, phone resting on his stomach, as he waits.

 Sure enough, just as Edward considers picking up the phone to kill off some time, it vibrates against his sweater and, sure enough, it’s Étienne. He doesn’t even get a chance to say hello that his boyfriend is off on a semi-tangent of mostly coherent thoughts.

 “Hear me out,” He starts again,? “The weather can go fuck itself, but like, I was at yours last year and the year before? For all of winter?? And I survived, yeah? I mean, it sucked but whatever. But, anyways, I realised, cold weather means extra cuddles, right” He looks at Edward with that little manic gleam to his eyes that he gets when he has these crazy ideas and thought processes and Edward gives him a knowing look.

 “Took you long enough to figure it out. Thought for a moment you were done with being touch starved.”Edward teases, making Étienne roll his eyes at him.

 “Please, as if. And, like, I don’t have to go outside, even if it’s a frozen disaster and – and – and – well, I miss you and I haven’t seen you in ages and well, you’re worth the fucking cold and me freezing my ass off. So there. I’m willing to come over. Might have to fuck off to Mexico afterwards just to thaw out properly, but that’s not a problem.” Étienne says it with all the conviction of the world and nearly wants to dare the weather to get even worse, because nothing will stop Étienne M. Maisonneuve once he’s set himself to something. Edward’s a little bit touched by the declaration, really.

 “Aw, I miss you too, Curly, but you know I’ll have work to do,” It’s not that he’s actively trying to dissuade Étienne from visiting, but he’d hate for his boyfriend to have these grand ideas of canoodling indoors with him for however long he plans to visit, only to be severely disappointed when he’ll have to head out to work.

 “Duh, I know that. I can take care of myself and I can go to Muttart, if ever I need extra heat, like I did last time, aaaaaaand” He says, pointing a finger towards the screen to make his point even more important, “I also have other friends I can see if you’re not around; so there.”

 Edward laughs. He loves that Étienne’s already figured it all out. He loves that Étienne still wants to visit him, despite the cold, despite his schedule and despite anything else. Loves that Étienne’s expanded his horizons when visiting to the point that he has places he likes to visit and friends he can visit with.

 “Well, if that’s alright with you, then I’d love for you to visit.” He’s already looking forward to it, now that the idea is out there. Maybe he’ll even ask for a day off or two. Hell, maybe he’ll fuck off to Mexico with Étienne afterwards as well. They haven’t done that in ages.

 “Yeah? Awesome,” Étienne smiles, a pleased little thing, “Kay, so, I’ll look at flights and I’ll text you the details – and I guess I’ll see you soon!”

 Their gazes meet through the screen and they exchange giddy looks.

 “Looking forward to it,” Edward says with all the sincerity of the world.

 The conversation eventually comes to an end and Edward could get up from his couch to do something, but once more, knowing his boyfriend, he waits and sure enough, within moments of hanging up, his phone lights up again, with a text message.

 “Found a flight. Direct thank fuck. Leaves the second. WS114. Arrives at yours @11h37am. Can’t wait!!!! See you soon xxxxxx :D”

 Edward laughs again, not even surprised, and types out a reply. “Me too. See you soon. <3”

 FIN

[ajsthougts]

Alcoholism, an update…..

I just read my old post about alcoholism. Wow. It’s amazing how things change, and how the writing was on the wall then.

First thing, my best friend in that post is now my life partner.

Secondly, my uncle.

We lost my uncle on May 30th, 2022. Seven months after I asked him to move out of our house. I still have guilt. My uncle died solely because of his alcoholism. I knew he was killing himself and I didn’t want to watch him die, for Levi to relive the memory of losing his brother in the same fashion. But by letting uncle go, I lost the ability to watch over him.

I remember the day we found out he was sick. He had gone to my moms to give her money for his phone bill but he needed her to go out to his truck to to get the money. She knew by the sight of him that he was sick. He couldn’t physically get out of his truck. She took him to the hospital. His liver was full of fluids. He was deep into sorosis of his liver. He had weeks, maybe months to live.

Now we all had to watch my uncle slowly die.

I hate you alcohol, I fucking loathe you. Now you’re going to take my Uncle’s life??!

I had a great talk with my uncle before he passed. He freed me of any guilt I had. But it doesn’t take away the pain.

I wish I could say that was it for me and being surrounded by an alcoholic but here we are two years later and I fear for my Dad and my Levi.

Neither are the hardcore alcoholics as brother Nate or uncle Dean, but they are both a morning drink away.

What do I do? I love my man, but I have to break this cycle. I don’t want him to quit drinking but I want him to drink less. I’ve seen what daily drinking does to someone. The addiction takes over.

I’m always bothered when someone is bothered by my smoking of pot, especially when it’s someone that drinks. The two are worlds apart, yet marijuana is still not as socially accepted as alcohol, the true killer. I choose weed because it’s NOT booze, because the addiction isn’t going to make every organ in my body fail. It’s not going to make me angry, abusive, loud, or obnoxious.

I don’t even know what this blog is about. Just me vomiting my words and feelings.

[bisluthq]

It had to happen between 26th and 30th March per the timeline right? Not a lot of room. I remember people saying she was a bit weird in the iheart awards which was like 27th or 28th, so it really was like a quick meeting type of thing it seems. Almost like we're meeting in person to break up or something. Maybe that's why it seems it happened at a distance.

They also announced it less than two weeks after, although Tree did try to push it happenned weeks ago lol and when the sun article announcement came, they tried to make people clowns and pretend it happened in february cause yeah the whole thing looked bad.

It will never not be ridiculous to me how swifties came up and made basically canon the whole he cheated on her narrative, based in literally nothing. Yet they turn a blind eye to the optics of Matty and act like she just called him up on a whim.

I'll also have you know that the other day someone spilled the beans that back in january Taylor was at the 1975 SNL gig. The person actually said that when it happened, it was something like him looking for Matty and being told he was hanging out with someone very famous and everyone would know enough who it was. And then the person said when it came out, they were dating he understood they meant her 😬 so yeah there you go. January huh. I wonder where Joe was when all of this was happening cause it doesn't even seem like he wasn't in LA with her. Then you have the thing of them apparently being in the studio in LA in february aswell.

Idk...none of it looks good to me. And still waiting for the easter break to breakup when you had an earlier chance is kind of wild. He still went to the Grammys too I mean? But no one seemed to know until he posted the photo with Jack, so now I'm wondering if it was just a bit of show to cover up and keep up appearances

There are parts of this ask I don’t quite understand but yes my guess is when she flew to the UK and he was on the break in the UK they broke up, in person like normal adults. I also think that things weren’t good for a long while and as much as his family may say they’re surprised I think it didn’t come entirely out of the blue because Joe not attending Glendale may have been scheduling but his family not attending was 👀 to me. I think they knew shit wasn’t great. I don’t think she’s wrong for waiting to break up or for pushing the announcement back further because idk long ass breakups are confusing. Also the Matty tl is super sus lol but w/e she wasn’t happy and he was obviously appealing at the time and I’m not Joe so I have no vested interest in whether he got cucked or not. Like I think he did lol but also shit happens.

[jackril3y]

Wreck of the Genesis Chapter 4

Matthews started down the stairs first, then Sullivan, followed by Koto. As they descended further and the light retreated, Sullivan could see more of those strange characters. They glowed faintly with the same purple light the first one admitted.

"Koto, you think the things that built these pyramids are still around?"

"If they are, I hope they're friendly. Be a terrible waste to come out here, discover aliens, then get thrown in the damned soup pot." Matthews interjected.

"Hard to say, Captain. With the way the stones keep the vines away, it's impossible to say if these pyramids were built fifty years ago or fifty thousand."

"Good point," Sullivan said as they rounded the end of the 30th staircase. The air blowing through the pyramid was cool and dry, significantly different from the surface. As they walked, the air seemed to sap the sweat from his officer's uniform. Sullivan was quietly thankful because nothing annoyed him more than having a wet shirt. At about the 60th staircase down, the light at the surface seemed to become a pinprick as the grinding sounds of stone moving on stone started to emanate through the complex. Koto looked up and pointed as all three watched the two pieces of stone clap shut with a roaring yawn. It was at this point when the doors up top had closed, the symbols on the wall intensified in their glow, lighting up the pyramid in a neon purple hue. They kept walking until they heard an almost imperceptible humming noise that seemed to come from the walls.

"What's that noise?" Matthews piped up, breaking the uneasy silence. Koto listened for a while and frowned. 

“I don’t know enough about anything, but I’d say that it almost sounds like the hum of one of the transformers we had in our old neighborhood,” Koto said. Sullivan’s mind immediately flashed a mental image of a Transformer from one of the old 20th-century TV shows attempting to hum. 

“Oh, now that I listen, it sounds like the electrical transformers back on the ship,” Matthews added. Sullivan pursed his lips as the less amusing image of an electrical transformer popped into his mind. The group pressed onward into the oppressing darkness.

Up ahead, Sullivan could make out the shape of a figure standing at the edge of a hallway. He held his hand out to signal the others to stop and pointed to the figure. It was small, almost the size of a child. Its head was almost like a mantis but had one giant horn that bisected it, and a pair of petite mandibles shined in the dim light. Sullivan thought what it could be. An alien? No, it couldn’t be. Fauna native to Taunis 3? Could be? He shuddered to think what a mantis of that size could accomplish. He looked at the figure’s body. It had a torso like a cockroach. It stood on two legs, with four left, to do whatever the creature needed. He shuddered. Sullivan had hated and feared cockroaches ever since he was eight.

Once, when he’d just turned eight, he stayed at his grandparent’s house in the countryside, just a few miles away from Stockholm, New Jersey. He was supposed to stay with them for a week, but his mother didn’t tell him that Grandpop and Grandmom lived in a roach-infested hellhole. They were remarkably mean creatures that could grow to the size of your hand and had a penchant for biting. He killed as many of them as he could, even going so far as to rig up a flamethrower using a can of compressed air and a lighter that he stole from Grandpop. No matter what he did, they never seemed to stop coming. They were much worse at night when everyone was sleeping. You could hear them skittering around in the attic and see them loitering on the walls. After two days of not sleeping, young Edward Sullivan made the barn his new bedroom until his mom returned. The experience was so bad for him that any potential cockroach infestation freaked him out. Everyone but him thought he was paranoid, but he thought he was just cautious. That’s one reason why the Genesis appealed so much to him. The one environment cockroaches couldn’t adapt to was the cold vacuum of space. He didn’t move, and he bade the others not to move either since there was no telling what that thing’s hearing was like. He grabbed his satchel and retrieved the pistols and ammo. He gave everyone one gun, two magazines, and an ammunition box.

Matthews stared at the pistol in his hands, studying it. Koto held the gun in his hand; it almost looked like a toy compared to his massive hands. He pulled a gigantic hammer from his bag and passed the gun, extra magazine, and ammo back to Sullivan. The three slowly approached the being but stopped as they reached a T junction. The runes weren’t lit in the hallways, but their vision adapted to the dim light of the complex. They could see the massive walls came up in an almost A shape. The strange runes seemed to cover the entirety of the walls, from bottom to top. Sullivan’s stomach started to drop as they got closer to the creature. Something wasn’t right. That thought rang out again and again as they got closer. He began to see more and more of the beast. He saw that the giant horn that bisected the mantid’s head was a very long and slender mushroom stalk. Its obsidian black eyes were covered in a fine mesh of mycelium. He could see the thing twitch in place. Its movements were like that of a marionette controlled by an amateur puppeteer. He reached out and directed both to stop. He shook his head and pointed to one of the hallways they passed to signal Koto and Matthews to go there. 

The group quickly doubled back to take one of the flanking hallways. The air stream intensified as they walked down this hallway, almost like standing in front of an industrial fan. They quickened their pace not to get slowed down when, out of the corner of his eye, Sullivan noticed a door that wasn’t like the rest of the pyramid. Instead of stone, like the so-called blast doors up top, it was made of bright metal, almost like polished steel or burnished silver. Sullivan put his hand on the door, and to his amazement, it slid open like it was automatic. The room it led to was lit by a singular light in the ceiling and contained something that resembled a computer, less like the computers on the ship and more like an IBM microcomputer you could see in a museum on Earth. Sullivan pulled the chair back slightly and sat down. He touched one of the buttons on the computer, and the screen lit up a bright blue with several strange characters. He rubbed his chin as he pressed random buttons on the keyboard, hoping that one of them could show him something interesting. Matthews was the first to follow Sullivan into the small room. He gawked at the computer as well.

“Who do you think made it?” Matthews asked him.

“Hell, if I know, I bet if we could read what this says, we could learn much more about this rock we’re currently on.” Koto slid the door open as he stood behind them.

“Guys, we’re not the only sentients in here.” He said, a touch of fear in his voice. Sullivan stepped away from the computer and walked out the door. When the door slid open, they were surrounded by at least fifteen mantids. None moved as they stared intently. These mantids were missing the fungus horn and mycelium of the first one they met, but they were also much more present than the last. Each one stared at the trio with large, unblinking eyes. Sullivan thought about grabbing his gun and blasting his way out, but as he processed his options, they didn’t look the best for him. How was he supposed to open the blast doors when they couldn’t figure out how they opened them in the first place? Where was he supposed to go after blasting his way out? The ship? No, he’d probably be hanged as a coward and eaten. He unclinched his fist from the gun and dropped his hands.

“Koto, Matthews, put your weapons down and drop your hands to the side. It’s an order.” He said with a harsh edge to his voice. The other men reluctantly obeyed, and the mantids formed a small gap between them. One mantid walked through that gap, cockroach legs moving quickly but holding in them a small box. Sullivan closed his eyes and cringed violently to ignore the feeling of the cockroach legs crawling up him. The legs put the box to his left temple, and for the first time, he heard words.

“Are you sure this will work?”

“If they were the creators, why would they need the Learner anyway?” As well as many other hushed questions from the crowd before him. He paused for a second and drew a quick breath.

“Who are you?” He asked.

[mysterious-prophetess]

Hey students, guess what!

You want to know how to end up on the eternal shit list of your professors/educators/instructors? It’s really easy to do with one simple action.

Wanna hear it?

ACADEMIC DISHONESTY!

You CHEAT and you are automatically on the shit list.

When you cheat it is as if you’re saying “this assignment/test is a waste of my time and the instructor/professor/educator’s time is something I can freely waste grading my academic dishonesty.”

I don’t care if you try to fire back with “eDuCaTiOn Is BrOkEn” or some other nonsense.

Cheating is cheating. You’ve stolen the answers from elsewhere and stolen time from your instructors—who btw YOU ARE NOT PAYING.

Students, contrary to common internet BULLSHIT, DO NOT pay their undergrad or grad instructor’s salaries.

The universities and colleges do.

Enrollment DOES affect how many educators are retained for services but there is no direct “I PAY YOU” relationship involved, got it?

I get PAID by my employer, NOT my students.

Back on-topic.

If you cheat, we can usually tell. Mostly because those stupid enough to cheat are also lacking in intelligence in other areas.

Had a sloppy as FUCK cheater last session cheat on a PERSONAL ESSAY. Something that should have been short, sweet, to the point about their OWN experiences, core values, and other tooth rotting fluff, right?

Well, cheatface was also the 30th student I was grading that day, and I just wanted to be done, so it nearly got past me BUT cheatface pinged my alarms with the thought of “this isn’t how cheatface types. it’s coherent” and after I ran it through a cheat checker, is spotted another BLATANT error: cheatface forgot to change the name of the source’s fake company to the company cheatface wanted to work for.

It’s also the surefire way to make me madder than a hornet and, shall we say, less than merciful toward cheaters. My employer leaves it to MY discretion to allow cheaters the chance to redo work after being caught.

Since most of the cases I catch ARE the end of the session, they do not get a do-over. Even during the session, depending on when and how I catch them may or may not get a second chance.

End of session cheaters will never get mercy, though.

Why? Because two weeks before the session ends, we do a unit about the college’s preferred citation style AND cover academic dishonesty. To say they should have learned to be better is a fucking UNDERSTATEMENT.

So, Tl;Dr—Don’t cheat unless you want to end up on instructor’s shitlists amongst other things.

[fingertipsmp3]

Gotta love how staff induction is in a week or less and I still haven’t heard if I’m supposed to be there or not 🙃

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter ten

Everyone showed up at work that following Monday morning in a great mood. The request for a full season sprinkled excitement over the conference room, but you liked to think that the way Jason’s weekend started had something to do with the smile on his face.

Back to normal for a few days: internship, classes, offering emotional support to Max when he had another crisis related to his impending 30th birthday and, as he put it, the fact that dating apps were fruitless. 

But on Halloween you found yourself at O’Hallorans in a purple velour tracksuit, a thick headband pulled your hair back and over your shoulders when Sophie (in her matching pink tracksuit) showed up with another round. 

It was only 9pm--the night was young but you were already tipsy, thanks in part to Max’s credit card and the fact that your text to Jason had gone unanswered for almost two hours. 

You clicked your phone shut and slipped it into your pocket, took a dejected sip when Naomi eyed you. 

“You seem less energetic than usual,” she noted.

“I’m fine,” you sighed, a smile to let them know that while you might be lying, you’d certainly survive.

“Sudeikis drama?” Sophie pouted theatrically. 

People were packed near by the bar like sardines, plenty of students and locals in costume, the music was already too loud. 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, they laughed and Max nudged you when he said: “Spill it--stop trying to be all coy about this.”

“He’s right,” Sophie nodded. “Half the fun of fucking your professor is gossiping about it.”

You fought a giggle at that--she wasn’t completely wrong. 

“It’s nothing--I texted him and he didn’t reply and I don’t know. Sometimes he’s hard to read.”

“What do you mean hard to read?” Max asked.

“Well--I don’t know. Sometimes he seems super into it but then he pulls back.”

“Well, he’s got to be nervous,” Naomi shrugged. “I know gossiping is fun, but--there’s still a lot at stake.”

Right. The voice of reason. 

“Oh come on, don’t ruin it for her and get in her head,” Sophie made a face at Naomi.

“She’s right,” you shook your head. “I’m just a student--just the intern,” you rolled your eyes at Jennie’s words. 

“Fuck that,” Sophie said quickly, reaching for your phone. “What’d you say to him?”

She opened your text, a quick smirk at the fact that there was even a thread in the first place. She read your unanswered message out loud. 

Any Halloween plans?

“Okay--well, he obviously didn’t reply because there’s nothing sexy about this,” Max looked up at you, disappointed in your flirting skills.

An unimpressed stare at your friend: “I’m a human, not just a vagina.”

“But that’s what he likes best about you,” Max teased, a laugh from all of them when you took your phone back from Sophie. 

“It just feels like it’s always a tug of war or something--like we’re always fighting for the upper hand.”

“Well who has it now?” Naomi asked. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Nothing’s happened in a while.”

“How long is a while?” Max pressed, his eyes narrowed when he sipped from his drink.

“Like, a week and a half ago or something,” you said with a flutter of your eyelashes. While you definitely kept them updated and in the loop, you certainly weren’t reading them diary entries or spilling every detail. “We got drinks with the other writers and then he walked me back to my place.”

“Oh my god,” Sophie lifted a shoulder in excitement. “Did he spend the night?”

“What?” You asked, shocked she thought things had progressed that far. “No! No--he walked me home and there was some action, but--no sex and he left pretty quickly.”

“Wait--” Naomi was more interested than you’d seen her previously. Maybe it was the dirty shirley in her cup. “Have you had sex again since that first time?”

“No,” you shook your head before admitting: “other stuff, but no--just that once.”

“Oh my god,” Max shook his head. “You need to sleep with him again.”

“Well--yeah, I mean--I wouldn’t hate that but I don’t want to be clingy or weird or--”

“Don’t overthink it,” Sophie groaned. “Just like Max needs to not overthink the fact that he kind of looks like Martha Stewart in jail instead of a Cheetah Girl.”

You all laughed at that, left O’Halloran’s by 10 to head to another bar where some of Naomi’s friends were already hanging out. You walked with them through campus, turned left outside the Student Center before your eyes trailed up and noticed a light on in a familiar window. 

“Uh--you guys can keep walking,” you said suddenly, eyes darting up to Sophie’s when you smirked. “I’m gonna go see if he’s actually up there.”

They laughed and cheered and yelled obnoxious things when you climbed the steps to the building, swiped inside and laughed to yourself when you climbed the stairs. Was this crazy? Yeah. 

The third floor was quiet like always, the light at the end of the hall and the sound of typing on a keyboard made your heartbeat pick up with each step.

He didn’t notice until the door latched behind you, he glanced up from his computer and the confusion in his eyes quickly faded to intrigue.

“Hi,” you said quietly, a smile when he stood.

“Hi,” he rounded the corner of his desk, you were already a few steps into the room. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you purred, pushing up against him quickly. The alcohol you’d already consumed gave the confidence boost you needed. You pressed a kiss to his mouth as you tugged him down. “I texted you.”

“You did?” He smiled, looking over to his phone on the far side of his desk--face down. “Sorry--I’ve been working.”

“I can see that,” you smirked up at him. He looked down at you, took in the sight when his eyes traveled down your body and then back up. You reached forward to trace his outline over the fabric of his khakis. 

“I’ve been drinking,” you confessed, a flutter of your eyelashes to let him know that while it was true, you weren’t wasted.

“I can tell,” he laughed. “And while I’m sure I would love whatever you look like you want to do to me—” he laughed, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You pouted up at him a little. 

He sighed a little at that, like the sound of your voice had him rethinking it. “I would love to fuck you right now,” he nodded, about to say more when you cut him off.

“Good, then this will be quick,” your hand swooped down to graze over him. 

“I don’t think you should do that,” he tried again, a coy smile when he shook his head, pushed your hands away from his belt buckle. The look in his eyes told you he dared you to do it.

“Why?” You turned over your shoulder and glanced at the door. “That locks, right?”

“I appreciate the offer, really, I do—”

He tried to stop you, gave in a little when your hand reached inside and wrapped around him.

“Oh, Jesus, Y/N,” he laughed, looked up nervously at the door you’d shut on your way in when you slunk down to your knees.

“The sooner you go along with it the sooner it’ll be over,” you looked up at him from your spot on the floor, licked your tongue right up his length when he swallowed down the desire.

“I’m not—yeah—I can go along with it.”

You pumped with your hand, took him into your mouth and smiled. But he didn’t last long like that, pulled you up and let his hands roam over your skin when he pressed a kiss to your jaw. 

“I want more than your mouth,” he confessed. “And I don’t have long but I like the way you look when you’re trying not to scream.”

You knew what he was doing, knew from the look in his eyes that he was trying to take back the upper hand. You smiled up at him, turned him around and pushed him into the chair that sat opposite his desk. The one where you’d sat so many times, the one where his advisors sat as they hand-picked classes for each semester.

You unzipped the jacket you wore, revealed a matching purple tank top and then slid your pants down. His eyes drank you in--all the way down to the matching purple thong--before you straddled him and smirked down. 

His voice was deep and throaty. “Are you gonna let me fuck you now?”

You nodded, smirked a little when he shifted beneath you, slid the fabric of your panties aside as he guided himself in. You settled on top of him, breath catching in your throat at how good he felt. He found the rhythm and thrusted in and out, catching your lips with his when his hands reached around to cup your ass. 

You pulled your tank top off eventually, loved the way he seemed desperate to unhook your bra. His eyes watched you when his fingers trailed up to thumb against your nipple, your back arched involuntarily and you let out a moan that made him laugh. 

“Yeah, baby,” he growled in your ear, “let me feel that pussy cum.”

And you did, you buried your head in his shoulder when he went faster and quicker, pleasantly surprised when he moaned your name into your ear only a few seconds after. You laughed and climbed off when you were finished, reached for a tissue to clean up before finding your clothes around the room.

He looked you up and down when he put his belt back on, trying to make sense of the purple velvet tracksuit. “And you’re supposed to be—”

“One quarter of the Cheetah Girls,” you said confidently, fixed your headband and straightened out the zipper on your jacket. “Sorry—would a school girl have been more your taste?”

He let his brows arch at your sass, walked over and sat at his desk now, hands behind his head when he smirked up at you.

“No,” he shrugged. “Cheetah Girls is good, you still look,” he nodded. “Good.”

You ignored the compliment. “You know who the Cheetah Girls are?”

“I mean I can’t say I’ve seen the movies,” he admitted, head tilted to the side. “But I don’t live under a rock.”

“It was Max’s idea,” you shot him a glance. “It was either this or the four seasons.”

“The band, or the…” he motioned out the window, “earth seasons?”

“The earth seasons,” you clarified with a laugh.

“Well, if monochrome tracksuits ever come back in style, good to know you can rock it.”

“Oh they will,” you said confidently. “Just give it a few years.”

There was a knock on the door then. Jennie smiled and held up a bag of take out food through the window. Your eyes went wide when you took a quick step over to open it. 

“Sorry that was locked--old doors and old building,” Jason lied.

“No worries--hey Y/N,” she smiled, “are you joining?”

“No,” you said quickly, eyes darting over to Jason. He said he didn’t have much time but you didn’t know it was because of her. “I was just leaving.”

“You can stay if you want,” Jason said quickly. “Jennie just got dinner--we hadn’t eaten.”

“Oh no,” you shook your head. “That’s okay--I’ve got somewhere to be. Just wanted to give you that assignment,” you tried to cover your tracks.

Jennie came and sat in the chair you’d just had sex in, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion when she took a plastic container out of the bag.

“Thanks, yeah,” Jason nodded. “I’ll uh--grade it ASAP.”

“Sounds good.” 

An awkward pause, Jennnie smiled up at you like she could sense something in the room but didn’t know what. You headed for the door and down the hallway, unsure how something could turn from good to bad so quickly. 

November 14th, 2018

The first few weeks of November were a blur. Brainstorms and rushing to get ahead on the script left you unable to even think about Jason and the sex in his office on Halloween and how Jennie of all people showed up. 

You were annoyed. As petty or as immature as it was, you spent a good two weeks brewing and working yourself up over the thought of the two of them alone together in his office. 

Was he sleeping with her, too?

“No fucking way,” Max had his hand around your phone when you showed them a picture one night in Sophie’s living room. “He’s not having sex with her.”

“What makes you so sure?” Naomi forked a bite of noodles into her mouth. 

“She’s cute but,” Max shrugged. “She’s not a 27-year-old with a tight ass.”

“Ew,” you made a face at him.

“Why don’t you just ask him if he’s fucking her?” Sophie shrugged, her eyes innocent when she took a hit from the joint Max had brought. “You’re allowed to know if someone you’re sleeping with is sleeping with anyone else.”

“That would be so awkward,” you groaned. “And it might make me seem territorial, which I’m not.”

Max gave a knowing look. “Says the girl who’s literally mad about him hanging out with a coworker.”

“I just think it’s weird that he didn’t tell me she was getting them food--I wouldn’t have had sex with him right then if I knew that!”

“He wanted you so badly he just couldn’t say no,” Sophie said this wistfully, a giggle when she handed the joint to Naomi. 

“Maybe,” you sighed, “but I don’t know—having sex with him is one thing, a love triangle is a whole other level of insane.”

“You’re not insane,” Max reassured. “You’re lustful and swept away in the romance,” he wrapped his arms around himself and wiggled excitedly.

“And I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew,” you reminded them all. 

“You can handle him, are you kidding me?” Sophie got fired up at this, her forehead wrinkled when she leaned forward to give you a shove. “You’re young and hot and he's trying to not get fired for fucking his intern! You have the power!”

You looked at her, nodded slowly when it sunk in. 

“He needs you more than you need him,” she smiled.

You weren’t sure if you bought it, though Sophie spent plenty of time that evening trying to convince you. On Wednesday you decided to just act normal, you scribbled over the script in a red pen and wondered what made him walk in almost twenty minutes late. 

You grabbed lunch with Javier and stayed until 7pm, excited to finish a pivotal scene for the main character. 

You now had a full map of the rest of the season: post-it notes stuck up around the room with the details and plot points in Jason’s handwriting. 

You eyed him quietly when he tugged his jacket on.

“Long day,” you commented, a few steps into the hallway when he was right behind you. You read a text from Naomi about upcoming plans when he laughed a little.

“Yeah, welcome to the stressful part.”

“Why is this the stressful part?”

He followed you to the elevator, put his hands in his pockets when the doors split apart. “Now we’ve got to deliver a whole season and put our money where our mouths are.”

He glanced over to you quickly, almost like he, too, thought about how his mouth felt when he trailed down your jaw. 

You nodded, offered a smile when Dan slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed. A few laughs on the way down to the ground floor, Dan split off when you and Jason turned left towards the subway. 

You looked up at him quickly, a tugging in your chest when you cleared your throat.

“Would you—uh—wanna get dinner, or something?”

Not a date. You weren’t trying to do anything. It just felt human. 

“Oh,” he looked over his shoulder, a restaurant nearby that you knew he liked. “Uh—I actually have to get home, uh—just, yeah, maybe another night.”

You nodded, swallowed down the sharp edges of rejection. “Yeah—sure.”

It stung, even though you wished it didn’t. You faked a phone call and let him catch the train without you, too wounded to sit beside him and count the stops until your walk home.

November 22nd, 2018

“Y/N--can you talk for a second before you go?”

Those words would typically raise your pulse. But now, when Jason glanced in your direction as the rest of your classmates packed up, your stomach flipped and your heartbeat climbed. 

Your contact with him had declined after Halloween, a result of your own pettiness and immaturity paired with an increase in work stress.

But that wasn’t all. Your anxiety had upped the ante, now sprinkled thoughts like who else is he hooking up with into your morning coffee. 

You nodded when you met his eyes, took your time making an edit on the script when he shut his laptop. The last few students trickled out of the room. Once you were alone he cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you looked up at him, your best attempt at a calm demeanor. 

“How are you?”

“Good,” you laughed a little. It’s not like you didn’t see him almost 5 days a week. It’s not like he didn’t know what you’d been up to. 

“Yeah?” He nodded, a hesitant smile when you put your computer to sleep and stood. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, eyebrows dipping when he shrugged.

An air of confidence when he let out a deep breath. “Feels like things have been kind of weird since Halloween.”

“Halloween,” you nodded, acting aloof as you tugged your bag over your shoulder. “Hmm.”

He laughed quietly, kept his eyes on yours when he spoke: “I’m sorry if Jennie showing up like—weirded you out.”

You shook your head quickly, tried to play it off. “Oh, no—it’s whatever, it’s not a big deal.”

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise, he waited a beat but gave you a knowing look.

“We were just working on the script and,” he shrugged, “I obviously have a hard time saying no to you.”

You licked your lips and nodded, unsure what to say. If you admitted it bothered you it would tip him off, let him know that you thought about what he did on the weekends and wondered what type of cereal he ate. 

He’d know you were jealous or petty and he’d know that in the deepest darkest depths of your brain a part of you whispered: what if I’m actually into him?

“I’ve just never had to interact socially with someone so quickly after an orgasm,” you said honestly, a smirk at your upcoming word choice. “Aside from the person I’m fucking.”

You watched him swallow, nod slowly when he smirked. “Right.”

“But we’re good,” you nodded quickly.

“Okay,” he nodded, but his eyebrows dipped like he didn’t really believe you. 

“Okay,” you smiled a little and turned to leave, made sure to let your hips sway a little extra when you walked right out of the classroom.

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AN: ten whole chapters of a professor jason fic i am laughing very hard. SO GLAD you guys like this story, and I can't wait for it to get a little more juicy now that things are actually steamy between Jason and MC!

[hiphop-rap-and-basketball]

rookie year | chapter 8

• a lamelo ball fanfic by hiphop-rap-and-basketball •

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,357

Warnings: All characters in this fic are 18+. Minors DNI. Swearing, mentions of drug use, all that shittt.

A/N: early post supriseeee, it’s Tuesday but I’m on a roll and had this chapter done so fuck it. this chapter really just makes my heart flutter, pure fluff. I am love sick, truly, enjoy. let me know how you liked it and how it made you feel :)

October 30th 2021

You finally were getting to see Melo today after not seeing him for what felt like forever. Ever since last week when you and Tristan broke up, he checked up on you when he had the chance by texting you and making sure you were doing okay.

He truly took your request seriously of sending you pictures of something cool, funny or random that he saw. It became almost an everyday thing where he would either send a plate of his food, a random picture of his face and tried to justify it because he said you specifically asked to send “something cool.”

He would also send a picture of maybe just a random statue or landmark. He started sending more views after you once told him that beautiful views were you favorite thing. He knew those little random messages made you smile and that is how those text messages grew to be a special way to connect even being hundreds of miles apart from each other.

Each day felt less and less painful since the break up. You were taking the time to work on yourself. You had not received a single call or text from Tristan. You have been on edge about it ever since, wondering if he would reach out to you to say anything else before he leaves for good.

Until now.

Tristan: My beautiful darling Y/N who I’ll miss very much. I’m sorry things had to end this way. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. Just know I always loved you and didn’t want things to end this way. I didn’t want them to end at all. I didn’t tell you my plan was the military because I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I guess that doesn’t make sense. All I know is I’ll always love you. No one will ever love you like I did. I wish you the best. I leave for boot camp on the first of November.

You scuff in frustration. It almost makes you want to laugh. Staring at your phone rereading it wondering how you put up with the toxicity for so long. You slipped your phone in your back pocket got out of your car, grabbing your coffee and purse.

You shut the door behind you and looked up startled and in shock, there stood Melo with his arms open.

“Oh my gosh,” you exclaimed running up to hug him.

“Heyy,” he chuckled while squeezing you tight. You let go of the hug and looked up at him, his eyes were low and he was cheesing extra hard.

You smirked and him.

“Hmm, I see what you were up to,” you teased.

“Whatttt?” He asked in a high pitched tone, trying not to laugh.

“Hmmm,” you hummed, reaching up to hold his cheeks, turning his face side to side to look into his red eyes, visibly high. He grabbed both your hands and brought them down to your sides.

“Don’t worry bout it,” he teased.

“Okay,” you huffed. “I’m just mad you didn’t ask me to join.”

“Awww, you smoke though?” He asked and the two of you began walking.

“No, yes, well I’ve done it a couple times it’s been a while,” you shrugged.

“I don’t want to corrupt you camera girl, you’re too pure for this world,” he stated while the two of you got to his car.

“I’m not that pure,” you argued and he looked at you sideways.

“Hmmm, oh really?” He stated getting his car started.

“Whatchu like to do for fun?” He asked you.

“Well- I… I guess I work a lot.. and I consider work fun. So that’s a good question,” you shrugged.

“It’s okay, you getting the grind in. Let’s have some fun today though. You deserve it after all that… how you been feeling?”

You gave him directions on where to go as you spoke on the things you had not talked about with each other through text.

“Well, I was doing better without any contact with him but then he… texted me today and it just kinda refueled some anger,” you replied.

“Awww shit,” Melo stated.

“Yeah… I’ll uh- show you when we get there but besides that. How are you feeling?”

“Great now that I’m with you,” he stated and you smiled.

“Stopppp. I mean I’m honored,” you giggled. “But are you doing okay physically and mentally?”

“Yeah I mean, I’m proud of myself and how I’ve been doing this season. I just have love for the game, not much too it,” he shrugged.

“I love how you talk about it like it’s not a big deal,” you stated.

“I mean my love for the game is pretty natural,” he shrugged. “Nun’ crazy.”

“Don’t downplay it, you’re amazing,” you nudged him.

“Camera girl you gasssin’… I love to hear it though keep going,” he smirked.

“Nah that’s enough we don’t need that big head getting any bigger,” you teased.

When you got to the restaurant it was pretty empty. You wanted to go to this small Chinese Restaurant near your hometown that you always used to go to.

“So spill the tea,” Melo said while leaning back in his seat. “What happened with ‘ol wanna be military boy?”

“Well… I actually haven’t heard from him, so I was doing great but then today…” you say pulling out your phone and pulling up the text from Tristan. You hand it over to Melo and he furrowed his brows while he read it.

“First of all, why are his messages green? Wit’ his broke ass,” he said while he continued to read it and you could not help but laugh a little.

You scan his face while he reads it, he shakes his head while handing your phone back to you.

“That’s…” he trailed off. “a toxic response. Talking bout some ‘No one will ever love you like I did,’ go to hell,” he mumbled and you laugh again.

“Yeah I don’t think I want to pay any mind... It feels like one big lie. I just know it is,” You shrugged.

“Wait so… how exactly did the conversation start though? Like the day it happened?” he asked.

You felt the heat run to your cheeks as you looked down at the table remembering it all.

“Well..” you start.

“Oh shit…” he replies.

“When we got home after getting my kitten, I opened up my laptop and I still had the pictures I was editing of you up. He was pissed and started going off talking bout some “why did you give him a photoshoot again” like it’s not my job… then he was claiming shit like we did plenty of photoshoots… this this and that and like I spend all my time with you.”

“What the hell, does he know we only did two?” He questioned while sipping his water.

“Yeah,” you sighed throwing your hand up in defeat.

“Wooow,” he dragged while raising his brows.

“Yeah so.. he was definitely jealous,” you stated crossing your arms.

“Damn,” he muttered, face scrunched up while he looked to the side with a smug grin on his face.

“LaMelo…” you stated firmly, squinting your eyes at him catching onto his pride getting the best of him in that moment.

“Sorry, my fault, my fault,” he brought his hand on his mouth to cover it, straightened his posture and rubbed his goatee as you continued.

“Then he said something along the lines of ‘ that’s slutty behavior and if I was trying to get with you without him knowing... He also said and I quote “‘NBA players do not take bitches seriously’,”

Melo crossed his arms now with a serious tone, “What the fuck?”

“Yeah… it was ugly.”

“We not all like that, I’m kinda pissed he said that, not kinda but really and more of the fact that he was extremely disrespectful to you. Ion’ give a fuck what that man thinks about me. I know who I am.”

“Yeah to be honest the more I look back the more I realized how mentally unstable he would act,” you sighed. “So I refuse to believe any sort of opinion he has.”

The waitress brought out your meals and the two of you began eating. You realized how at peace you felt at this very moment. You cherished it and felt grateful to be in Melo’s presence as it had felt like a while.

“Anyway, thinking about it now I’m glad I was strong enough to end things after that, I felt weak for so long. I feel like I’m getting my power back.”

He nodded in response.

“I can tell. It looks like you’re glowing,” he stated casually while taking a bite.

Your eyes soften at him.

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled. “Thanks for noticing that.”

“You’re welcome,” he grinned as if his compliment to you was nothing new.

With him sitting right in front of you, you took the moment to observe his features.

“It looks like your curls are getting longer,” you said while smiling down at your plate.

“Really?” He asked while pulling down on one of them and bringing it to be visible to his eyesight. He let it go and it recoiled back to its normal size. You smiled at the sight.

“Yes,” you giggled.

“I might cut it.”

“No don’t-“ you reply quickly.

“Why?” he smirked.

“I like them long,” you say softly.

“Ahh I just meant trimming then down a bit,” he stated.

“How much?” You questioned.

He laughed, and you admired his smile when he did, “I don’t know maybe you can be there when I’m sitting in my barber chair and let him know when to stop,” he advised.

“I absolutely would,” you shrugged.

You finish up eating and Melo pays. You thank him about 100 times and he said it’s really not a problem. You were appreciative of it but still insisted he would not overdo it.

He stopped you when you got to his car.

“Y/N say thank you one more time,” he laughed. “I’m forreal don’t be mad about me paying, I’m going to keep doing it and you’re not going to stop me,” he stated and you were taken aback by his firmness.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn Y/N, you wanna check my bank account so you know I ain’t lying?” He laughed.

“Well… I am curious as to what a couple million look like- wait no no no stop Melo,” you threw your hands up.

“What?” He asked, leaning against his car tilting his chin up exposing his neck to you as he looked down as you were deep in thought.

You thought about how you were concerned of the possibility that he would ever think you just wanted to hang out with him for his money. You thought about how you wanted to tell him you appreciated his genuine friendship and yeah it was cool that he had a lot of money but that was not why you enjoyed spending time with him. You wondered if all the people in his life were actually genuine. A life of being wealthy and famous is something that could quite possibly be the hardest when it comes to knowing who is really there for you. You put these thoughts aside, maybe you were just overthinking it all.

“Um- uh – thank you,” is what you finally mustered up to say and he picked you up with both arms, carrying you bridal style to the passenger seat before setting you in.

“That’s it,” he groans and suddenly you are in fits of laughter, feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

He sets you into his passenger seat and looks into your eyes. You feel yourself shy away from his intense gaze.

“Look at me,” he says and you meet his eyes again, having a hard time not giggling.

“I’m going to keep paying because I want to, not even tryna brag like that but I want you to know, that’s how this is ‘bout to work,” he stated, using his pointer finger to motion the air between you and him.

“..and that sounds amazing and I really appreciate it I just don’t want you to ever think that I’m around you just for your money.”

“Camera girl-“ he backed up chuckling and slapped his hands on his legs.

“What?” You asked, concerned.

“I never thought of you that way. Ever. You’re honestly the realist person I’ve ever met,” he said and you felt a tinge of sadness wondering if your thoughts were true and if people really did use him for his money.

You looked up at him and smiled, using your hand to tap his drivers seat.

“Come in,” you whispered. “It’s chilly.”

He makes his way around the car and sits in the driver seat, starting the engine.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit attempting to warm up. His car felt familiar and cozy now. You burrow your face into your jacket.

“This town is cute, it’s little.” he says.

“Yeahh I’m convinced the locals are wondering what the hell a Lamborghini is doing here,” you replied and he laughed.

“You grew up close to here?” He asked.

“Yeah my childhood home isn’t far from here, it’s like less than 10 minutes away.”

“I’m tryna go meet Moms,” he joked and furrowed your brows at him in response.

“She’s married and I still have my dad in my life,” you chuckled.

“Oh nah nah I ain’t mean it like that,” he laughed. “Camera girl you think I’m into MILF’s or something?”

You laughed. “Shittt, I don’t know what you’re into.”

He studied your face for a moment after what you said and you finally looked up at him again.

“What?” You asked.

“Oh shit, I just remembered,” he stated while reaching for his phone. He pulled up his messages and you craned your neck to get a look but he noticed you watching so he hid his phone from you.

“Ah ah ah no peaking I’m ‘bout to send it,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes, “fineee.”

You awaited his message while he got it pulled up and hit send. You sat back in your seat and watched as he focused way too hard on trying to send one text. Like every brain cell he had was really focused on that one task.

You looked at your phone once it finally vibrated.

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: you’re a vip to me 💕 1 Attachment

You looked up and him as he smirked looking at you, waiting for your reaction. You opened the image. It was a QR Code for a VIP court side ticket for a Hornets v. Heat game.

“Oh my God Melo, really? Courtside?”

“Yeah, it’s no biggie you know just had to pull a couple strings,” he shrugged.

“Forreal?” You asked.

“Nah I’m just playing, we get tickets for free but, the dude did kinda look at me funny when I told him I only needed one.”

“Awww, well is it weird that I’ll be there alone?” You asked him.

“Nah, not at all. Matter fact I’ll be right there with you… technically,” he laughed. “And you can bring your camera too, if you want.”

“Melo… this is so sweet. Seriously.” You admired the ticket on your phone than took a moment to process everything around you.

“It’s no biggie really. I want you to have fun and enjoy it.. even if you’re not sitting with anyone it’s really just a fun time to be there,” he shrugged. “You’ll see, it’s different being so close versus sitting far up. Whole new type of experience.”

Melo was treating you like a friend of his own now, and this all started just because you did a photoshoot for him. He looked at you and concern grew on his face due to your silence.

“…But I’m just your photographer,” you mumbled.

“Nooooo, don’t say that. You’re more than that camera girl, you’re special and you mean a lot to me,” he admits. “I’m grateful that I met you.”

You look at him in awe for his sweet words. His eyes bouncing around admiring every aspect of your face awaiting your response.

“Thank you Melo,” you smiled. “That means more than you know..”

You thought about how Tristan barely said such kind words like this to you. You winced at the thought and you quickly adjusted yourself in your seat to face him.

“I have to say… I’m excited. I’ve been keeping up more now.. with games and stuff,” you perked up.

“Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite team?” He asked with a smirk.

“Hmmm, lemme think about it,” you replied, pretending to be deep in thought.

He playfully pushed your leg with his free hand.

“Now, you tryna do something like go buy some pumpkins or something?” He asked and you laughed. “I mean, Halloween is tomorrow,” he shrugged.

“Damn that’s true, I kinda forgot… haunted house?”

“Let’s do it,” he shrugged.

The two of you spent a second researching which one you should go to. Unknowingly to you, he admired you for a moment as you were sitting in his passenger seat scrolling on your phone, happy to be in your presence.

You decided on one and he started driving. It was pretty in the cut and lowkey in another smaller town. You almost wondered it if was safe as you drove up to it and it looked like an actual house.

“Ummm,” you stated as you got out the car and adjusted yourself. Melo looked at you as you were wide-eyed and laughed.

“What? You can’t get scared now camera girl, it was your idea,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I don’t know now,” you chuckled nervously.

“Come on, you’re a big girl,” he teased. “We’re here and committed now, so we have to.”

“Okay,” you whispered, not keeping an eye off of the building in front of you. You were hesitant now.

And for what? Yeah it had been a while since you went to a haunted house, but, it’s not real… right?

The two of you walked into the building and were greeted by a girl at the front desk with a Halloween themed make-up design on her face.

Melo bought your tickets and sent you a grin when he handed his card to her. You guys entered through the door to start going through the haunted house. Before you entered the first dark hallway, you stopped in your tracks.

“Ummm-“ you say a little louder and a little more nervous sounding this time.

“Nope,” Melo cut you off and grabbed your hand and gave you a tug. You had no choice, you had to go all in now.

The beginning was not super bad. It was dark, but there were some strobe lights. There were some people in costumes that jumped out at you.

Melo looked down at you with an amused expression on his face, still holding your hand through this point.

“This is.. okay,” you stated.

“Seee, I told you,” he lightly squeezed your hand before letting go of it. “C’mon.”

There was so much. You screamed a couple of times and Melo laughed. You started to loosen up and let the anxiety go. Everything was fake… until you saw the man with a chainsaw.

That shit was looking a little too real.

You did not know what the end was but the flashing white lights made everything around you appear daunting as it moved and then stopped and moved again as new things would move and appear closer to you, you felt like you were going to get jumped scared at any moment.

You had your eyes closed now and refused to look at anything in front of you. You reached out for Melo’s arm and linked yours around his in hopes that he would be able to guide you through the rest with him still having his eyes open.

“I can’t see,” you stated.

“Open your eyes then shorty,” he teased, nudging you.

You opened them. It was bright now. The room was completely white. There was no one around you. You could not tell what was going to happen next. You looked up at him. His face was relaxed and yours was clearly stressed but you forced a smile. He grabbed your hand again and suddenly, the room went pitch dark. You grab onto Melo’s arm again.

“Please step forward,” a voice echoed through the speaker.

You both took steps forward, small steps at that.

“A little more,” the voice stated.

“A little moreeeeeee….. stop.” the voice echoed and you both laughed after shuffling your feet, unable to see how far you had even moved up.

“What’s so funny?” An actual person voice asked now and you felt their presence right front of you and for the first time you felt and heard Melo have a reaction when he gasped and jumped back.

“Shit,” he laughed.

The lights turned on and a clown dripping in blood stood in front of you and you about lost it. Clowns freaked you out.

“Fuck that,” you yelled. The clown was in both of your faces now, knife in hand.

“You gotta be one crazy mother-“

The lights turned off again and you were both in each other’s embrace now when you nearly jumped into Melo’s arms.

The lights were suddenly on again. The clown was gone.

You both jogged your way out of there now that you noticed the white door handle connected to the wall.

You both went through and reached the end of the haunted house, back at the beginning as you were greeted by the girl with the makeup again.

“Have fun?” She smirked, tilting her head.

“No, maybe, yes, I don’t know,” you gasped realizing you were just trying to catch your breath.

“Have a good night,” she waved and went back on her phone.

You both walked out of the building. It was dusk now. You made your way back to his car and you both were too stunned to speak until you made it to the car.

“That was…. Definitely something,” you finally say, still feeling out of breath.

“You were so scared,” he chuckled. “For whattt?”

“Shut uppp…” you say covering your face in embarrassment. “Looook, that shit was crazy!”

“Yeah, it honestly was, shit kinda threw me off in that last room I damn near shitted,” he admitted and you laughed.

“I’m fucking deaddd,” you say as you got back into the car. The two of you sat for a moment.

You thought about what the two of you just experienced together and it made you laugh even more.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you say.

“You so cute when you laugh,” he grinned.

“Stopp,” you blushed. “Thank you… and you’re cute when you pretend like you’re not scared,” you teased.

“I wasn’t!!” He chuckled. “Shit was mid.”

“Mhmmm, sure,” you nodded.

He looked at you and playfully pushed your head.

“Where we going camera girl? Home now?” He asked.

The way he said home made your heart swell.

“We can,” you shrugged. “This has been fun… I kinda don’t want the night to end.”

“Me neither… wanna get ice cream?”

“Fuck it,” you shrugged.

Your last stop of the day was stopping by a local ice cream store. When you both got your cones he drove you back home and the two of you were silent, too focused on making sure your ice cream did not melt onto your laps and on his seats.

You licked your cone, watching as he had one hand on his steering wheel and the other hand wrapped around his cone. You watched as he licked the melting drops dripping off side of the cone.

You caught yourself nearly drooling at his tongue swirling on that cone and you laughed at yourself mentally.

He caught you staring.

“Whatchu looking at?” He chuckled.

“Tongue game kinda crazy,” you mumbled jokingly, in hopes he would not actually hear you. But he did.

He chuckled in response.

“You a freak camera girl,” he shook his head playfully. “What’s your mind in the gutter for?”

You studied his face for a moment, admiring the way his curls fell, swooning over his smile all day. His soft brown eyes looking into yours when he spoke to you. Feeling his hand in your own today and him being so protective over you. His intensity and the way he carried himself in full confidence. How could your mind not be in the gutter?

You giggled and lied, “Oh no reason.”

“Mhmm,” he smirked. “Don’t lie to me.”

“You’re nice to look at,” you shrug, “don’t let it get to your head though.”

“It already did,” he chuckled.

He pulled into the apartment complex now. You both for out of the car and walked together, making your way up the elevator per usual.

“Did you have fun?” He asked you.

“Of course, I always have fun with you,” you smiled up at him. The elevator stopped on your floor and the two of you walked to your door, standing up against the outside of it before entering your apartment.

The two of you gazing at each other in admiration but both were too scared to admit it.

“Well I’m happy you did,” he nudged you before pulling you into a hug.

When you released the hug, you remained close to him, looking up at him. It was cute how much he had to tilt his head down to remain in eye contact with you.

Two children came running down the hall, and you released your grip from him, watching as they flew past you.

“I’ll be back here these next couple of days but I’ll see you at the game.. and hopefully after if you’re free,” he shrugged.

“Can’t waittt, thank you again,” you sing while unlocking your door.

“I’ll see you then,” he grinned, grabbing your hand for a moment and squeezing it before walking away.

“See youuu, LaMelo,” you waved.

______

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