#if u read this u should tell me about ur day or something. am nosy

[robyn-goodfellowe]

hi tumblr :3 bats my big beautiful eyelashes at you

[elsaclack]

Em!! I just read you can hear it in the silence and oh my God it's probably one of my favourite fics of all time!! Which it's not surprising considering that I truly love you writing but it's so good!! I don't speak English so this may sound weird but the way they test each other in each repeat like little by little getting closer... Part of me was like give me a thousand repeats of that lol /1

and the actual heartbreak I experienced when Amy balks after their date I truly felt it so hard and then they falling in love and how Jake is always waiting for her... I love that in every universe (and fic) he has always carried a torch for her but never pushes her. And him being so surprised and nervous when she actually asks him out. I don't know I'll send you this and I'll keep remembering things I loved about it /2

I don't know I'll send you this and I'll keep remembering things I loved about it. You covered so well already but if you ever revisit that fic again it would be great to read Jake's POV since the night everything started, personally I'm a sucker for the pining and Jake's mind and I obviously believe you get his voice right. I'm way past the word limit and probably past normal asks etiquette or something lol so again I'll just say I truly loved the fic. Will be rereading later 💛. /3

FHALDSFKAHSDFLKJ okay i am SEVERAL days late responding to this but these made me SO HAPPY i can’t begin to tell u,,,,HFALDKSFASDFL THANK U!!!!

also!!!! u KNOW i gotta shout out @capnperaltiago for coming up with the original idea that sparked that fic!!!!!!! mel’s basically a goddess walking among us can u believe

so i have thought about going back and doing jake’s pov sort of like what i did with on my heart like a tattoo, but i’ve realized that in you can hear it in the silence, jake’s pov is mostly him very patiently waiting for amy to get out of her head and figure things out lmao. so it’s like him buying coffee every morning and mostly goofing around on his computer while being acutely aware every time amy tries to furtively watch him across their desks

BUT

i did have his pov of that date scene kind of planned out in my head and i may or may not have written it below the cut bc ur such an angel,,,,,,,,,,,

It’s the fact that she’s pressed up on the balls of her feet, her arm slung so firmly round the back of his neck he’s almost positive he’ll have a crick in his neck tomorrow (if he ever makes it to tomorrow), and the muffled noises buzzing against his lips that all lend themselves to his staunch belief that he is, in fact, dead and gone to heaven.  There’s no other explanation, he thinks, for the searing heat of her throat beneath the razor’s edge of his teeth or the electricity crackling from the tips of her fingers as she rakes them through his hair; no other explanation for the way her spine arches eagerly as his palms slowly, experimentally drag their way up the natural curve of her waist.  He has died and gone to heaven, officially, because he’s clumsily kicking his front door closed so that he can make out with Amy Santiago away from the prying eyes of his nosy neighbors.

Jake’s halfway through the mental image of dotty Mrs. Carmichael’s scandalized expression if she were to walk past them when Amy’s body suddenly stiffens - it’s the only warning he has before she hisses “shit” in his ear and recoils her head so quickly it bounces off the wall behind her.

(When he managed to back her into said wall is a mystery all its own.)

“Oh, god, Amy -” the alcohol still flowing pleasantly through his system makes him feel slow, sluggish; he reaches up to touch the place her head hit the wall, steadying himself with a grip on her bicep. “What’s wrong?  What happened?”

She’s looking up at him with an unfamiliar expression, something that makes the pit of his stomach stir and churn in a wholly unpleasant way, kiss-swollen lips parted and chest heaving in a way that makes him think she might be struggling to breathe properly.  “I’m - I can’t -” she gasps.

Like a bucket of ice water over his head, dread bursts through his system all at once.  It hadn’t occurred to him, in the haze of kamikaze and longing in the back of that cab, that she wouldn’t want him.  It hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

He tears himself away from her at once, stumbling backwards until his body collides with the wall opposite her.  "Oh, my god, Amy,” he chokes, doing his best to wipe the feeling of her body beneath his hands by rooting his fists in his hair and tugging none too gently. “I’m - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I just - you’re, you’re so pretty and - I’m a little d-drunk, I didn’t mean to - god -”

She’s shaking her head violently before he’s finished speaking, eyes shining with unshed tears, and he’s never wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground more than in this moment. “No, no, no, that’s not what I - you didn’t do anything wrong, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong at all!”

The words sink in slowly; tentatively, he lets his hands fall back to his sides.  “Okay,” he says slowly, “so...so what just happened? ‘Cause I thought - I mean, it seemed like it - things were going...like, really well -”

She presses her hands over her cheeks, now flaming red, and the tears seem to be defying gravity where they’re clinging to her lower lashes.  “It was,” she mumbles - her voice high and warbling, the way he’s only heard once before, seconds before a break down, and he cannot possibly fathom why because he’s her soulmate and they should be celebrating - “I’m sorry, I’m - I need to go - “

Those words - we’re soulmates! - stick in his throat as she tears out of his apartment, escaping in nothing more than a strangled half-shout as she disappears around the corner.  He’s halfway through the motions of chasing her to the elevator when he stops himself.

You’ve gotta let her come to you, Charles’ voice echoes in his head.  She has to work this out on her own.

Well, I royally screwed that up, he thinks back miserably.

[protecticarus]

hello! a prompt: would u be able to write an au set just after todd dropped out of college, where his parents hire dirk as like a carer of some sort for todd's pararibulitis?? and dirk is like fresh-ish out of blackwing and kind of a disaster trying to get a life together, and whether todd has it for reals first time round is up to you but idk I'd love to see something like this!! thank u sm and love ur work!!

I like this! this ended up focusing much more on todd than dirk, but I did drop some angsty blackwing references in there because, well... I’m me.

& thank you so much for reading & liking xx

~

“A… what? You got me a what?” Todd stuttered into his phone.

“A caretaker!” His mother’s excited voice came through the phone.

“I’m- is that really necessary though? I’ve been doing fine on my own.” Todd assured her.

“Oh honey, I know, but I just feel terrible not being able to be there for you and you didn’t want to move back home, so… I’d feel so much better knowing you’re being taken care of!” His mother replied.

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and wished for a miracle to get him out of this. But he knew his mother well enough.

“Mom… I appreciate it but you’ve done enough-“ He tried to argue one more time.

“Todd, please, for me?” His mother interrupted.

Todd sighed. She knew what she was doing.

“I… Okay.” He finally caved.

“Okay?” His mother confirmed.

“Yes, okay. I’ll… meet with this caretaker person. See if it’s a fit.” Todd mumbled.

“Oh, honey, I already hired him.” His mother piped in.

“You- what!? And him?” Todd exclaimed.

“Yes, Todd, I hired a nice sounding young man to take care of you.” His mother explained.

Todd covered his phone’s microphone and kicked his couch. His plan had been to push off setting a meeting and if he had to, meet this person but tell his mother it wasn’t a fit. It was a bit more difficult now that his mother had already agreed to pay this… ‘young man.’

“Shouldn’t you have waited for me to sign off on this? Mom, I’m the one he’s gonna… take care off.” Todd finally said through gritted teeth, cringing at the idea of a strange man having to take care of him.

“I’m sorry, honey, I just want what’s best for you, you know that. This disease is difficult, I only want you to have the best life possible.” His mother replied. Todd could tell she was getting emotional.

“I know, mom… I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll try.” He said quietly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Todd!” His mother celebrated.

Todd sighed again. “Yeah… so, when’s this guy starting then?”

-

Next monday, the doorbell rang for the first time in months.

Todd took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before going to open the door. This was going to be a long day.

Todd had no intention of having this man in his house for longer than a day, but he knew he had to suffer through at least 24 hours. For his mother.

As soon as Todd pulled the door open, he heard a cheery British accent greet him.

“Hello! Are you Todd? I certainly hope so. I am terrible with maps, though, so I’m only 50% sure.”

Todd took a moment to take in what was in front of him.

This guy couldn’t be older than 22 or 23. He had floppy auburn hair and a smile that was way too big for a first day at a job, yet it didn’t seem out of place on his face. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright turquoise jacket. His hand was raised in a wave. Not a handshake, a wave.

Todd cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah, I’m Todd. I’m guessing you’re Dirk?”

The Brit’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name, like it was the first time he heard his name said out loud.

“Yes! That is me. I’m Dirk. Gently. Dirk Gently. That’s my name.”

Todd blinked a couple of times. “Right… so, you wanna come in or?”

Dirk jumped into motion. “Yes, I do!” He replied and stomped past Todd into the apartment.

“So, my mom says you don’t have previous experience as a caretaker?” Todd said, already listing reasons to tell his mother this arrangement didn’t work out.

“Oh, yes, or no, I suppose, but I’m very eager to learn! All I’ve wanted to do is help people. And you’re people. As far as I know!” Dirk replied.

Todd found himself taken aback by Dirk’s… eccentric energy every time he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. Okay.” Todd mumbled as a response. “I don’t really need much help, though. I’m fine on my own.”

Dirk smiled. “Well, your mother said otherwise.”

Todd sighed. “Yeah, well, you know moms. They worry.”

Something changed in Dirk’s demeanor and for a moment he looked… almost sad, but before Todd could analyze much, the cheery disposition was back.

“Well, your mother filled me in on this pararibulitis business but I have to say I’ve never heard of it before! Is there something you want me to help you with especially?” Dirk asked as he picked up several of Todd’s items from the coffee table to inspect.

Todd sighed. This was going to be a long day.

-

At the end of the day, Todd laid in his bed, going over the events of the day. Somehow… he hadn’t told Dirk to leave.

He had absolutely meant to. It was on the tip of his tongue. Yet… Dirk Gently was currently sleeping in his guest room.

Dirk had just… talked and talked and suddenly it was late and by the time Todd was ready to tell Dirk to leave, Dirk had asked if he needed anything and when Todd said no, Dirk retired to the guest room.

Seemed like getting rid of Dirk Gently was going to be harder than Todd had thought.

-

A week after Dirk had moved in, Todd started to accept that he had a roommate. Dirk was just always going to be there now.

Todd would tell him to go shop for groceries so he could have some time to himself, and Dirk would be gone for 20 minutes and then sit next to Todd as he played the guitar and talk his ear off.

Dirk asked more questions than anyone Todd had ever met. At times, Todd felt like he was being interviewed. In the beginning, Todd assumed his mother had asked Dirk to ask things and report back to her, but already towards the end of the first night it became clear to Todd that Dirk was just nosy.

Dirk also had significant lacks in common knowledge. He’d seen an AC/DC album and asked what band had an album about learning the alphabet. He’d pointed out Gandalf from a Lord of the Rings ad on tv and asked if he was a famous celebrity.

The most strange thing about Dirk though? Sometimes he would answer a question Todd had yet to ask out loud. Or bring Todd his phone about 5 seconds before it started ringing. Or tell Todd to take his food out of the microwave before the bell went off and it would be the perfect temperature.

Todd wondered if he was in a hidden camera show, but a week seemed like a long prank to play.

-

On the 9th day of Dirk working for Todd, Dirk asked the question Todd had been dreading the whole time.

“How come I’ve never witnessed an attack?”

Todd flinched at the question. “W-what do you mean?”

Dirk sat up straighter on the couch next to Todd. “Well, you said pararibulitis causes you to have painful attacks with hallucinations, right? I’ve been here for 9 days but I’ve never seen you have one. Your mother said they’d gotten so bad you got them daily, that’s why you dropped out of college, right? I’m just wondering, how have I not seen one?” He rambled.

Todd swallowed awkwardly. “I-I don’t know, dude. I guess they happen mostly at night.”

“But then how would they affect you in college?” Dirk asked.

Todd mentally facepalmed. “I, uh, I mean they used to happen more during the days. Now it’s nights.” He tried to explain himself out of this situation.

“I see.” Dirk replied. He seemed genuinely understanding, but Todd feared he suspected something.

“I’m your caretaker, correct?” Dirk then asked.

“Uh… yeah?” Todd replied.

“So, if you have an attack at night, you should wake me. To help you. It’s my job, right?” Dirk said and smiled.

Todd felt terrible. He already hated lying to his family, which is why he avoided them if he could. Now there was this guy living with him just to help him and he started to feel guilty for lying to him too.

“That’s… nice, thanks. But I’m fine.” Todd replied quietly and turned his eyes toward the tv again.

Dirk let the subject go and Todd was grateful.

-

On day 16, Todd’s guilt was starting to really gnaw at him. Dirk’s strange quirks had grown on Todd. Sure, he still rolled his eyes at 90% of the things coming out of Dirk’s mouth, but it didn’t annoy him anymore. He was starting to like Dirk’s company. Which made it so much worse.

That night, Todd suggested they have a drink together.

A drink turned into 8 for Todd. Sooner than Todd would have liked, he was drunk.

Dirk had had a beer and a half and was giggling like a schoolgirl.

They chatted about whatever popped into their heads as they drank, sitting on the kitchen floor, where Dirk had fallen, tripping over his own feet. Instead of helping him up, Todd simply joined him.

Todd couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much.

“So, you’re from England, eh?” Todd said in a terrible English accent he would’ve been embarrassed by had he not been tipsy.

Dirk cackled at this. “That was horrendous! And yes.”

“So why did you come to the States?” Todd asked.

Color drained out of Dirk’s face and he seemed to sober up before Todd’s eyes.

“Woah, dude, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. Just tell me to fuck off.” Todd said after Dirk had failed to say anything for a while.

Dirk let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Sorry. I’m not going to tell you to… do that, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Sure.” Todd raised up his hands as a sign of surrender. “How ‘bout you say something now.” He added.

Dirk laughed. “Alright… Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Todd replied and took a sip of his 8th beer.

“Why are you pretending to have pararibulitis?” Dirk asked.

The room went completely quiet. Todd froze mid-sip. Dirk waited paitently.

“That’s… a big accusation.” Todd replied.

“Sorry, I’ve just noticed-“ Dirk began to explain.

“I mean, you’re supposed to be taking care of me, right? What kinda training did you go through that makes you think that’s an okay thing to ask?” Todd snapped.

Dirk looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, Todd, I’m simply trying to understand-“

“Well it’s none of your fucking business!” Todd exclaimed and tried to get off the kitchen floor.

“Todd-“

“Get out of my apartment!” Todd screamed. He heard his own voice and cringed, knowing he was overreacting but unable to stop himself.

Dirk looked hurt. Like a child. He took a deep breath and got up.

“I’m sorry, Todd.” He said.

Todd looked away from him.

He heard Dirk sniffle, followed by receding steps and the front door opening and closing.

Todd was alone again.

-

The next morning, Todd felt like shit.

And hangover was the least of his worries.

-

Two days later, his mother called him.

“What happened, honey? I thought you were getting along!” She asked.

“Dirk didn’t tell you?” Todd asked back, surprised, having fully expected Dirk to call his mother and let her in on what he’d found out.

“No, he just said you told him to leave. Why, Todd? Why?” She replied, obviously disappointed but trying to appear symphatetic.

Todd sighed. “I don’t need help, mom.”

“Todd…”

“I know, mom.”

-

4 days after Todd had kicked Dirk out, he wrote several text messages to Dirk but deleted all of them before hitting send on any.

-

The next day, Dirk showed up.

Todd answered the doorbell, just out of bed and well confused as to who would be at his door.

From the other side of the door, a familiar Brit greeted him with a careful smile. He was wearing a bright yellow jacket Todd hadn’t seen before and his hair was a mess.

“Dirk?” Todd asked, surprised to see his former… what? Fake caretaker? Roommate? Friend?

“Hello.” Dirk carefully said. “I felt… like you needed to talk.”

“You… you felt like I needed to talk… to you?” Todd repeated.

“Yes.” Dirk simply answered. “Don’t you?”

Todd thought for a moment, then stepped aside to let Dirk in.

“Look, Dirk… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…” Todd tried to apologize.

Dirk lifted his hand to stop him. “It’s alright, Todd. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, no, that’s the thing… You were right.” Todd said. He felt a wave of anxiety and something else wash over him. Relief? He’d never admitted to lying about his illness. To anyone. In over a year.

“I know.” Dirk replied.

Todd was taken aback. “You- you do?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So… why are you sorry?” Todd asked.

“Because I should’ve waited for you to tell me instead of confronting you like that.” Dirk explained.

Todd let out a light laugh. “I lied to you… and everyone else and you knew… but you’re sorry for calling me out on it?” He asked.

“…Yes?” Dirk replied.

Todd laughed and covered his face with his hands. “I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an-“

“Yeah, I really am. Such an asshole. And you know who’s not? My mom. And dad. And my little sister. And you. And what do I do? Lie my ass off and make all of your lives harder. My parents had to get a loan to finance their AND my lives. My sister’s so worried about me every fucking day and she’s a teenager for fuck’s sake! She should be out partying or whatever. And you? You’ve been nothing but nice to me and dedicated every day to running my fucking errands for me when I could’ve done it all myself. That is the definition of an asshole.” Todd rambled. He went to sit on the couch, hanging his face down and resting it on his clammy hands.

Dirk didn’t reply for a moment.

Then he sat down next to Todd.

“So, you’re not perfect.” Dirk said.

Todd let out a mocking laugh. “No shit.”

Dirk laughed too. “But you know what you can be?” He asked.

Todd looked up at him. “What?”

Dirk smiled. “Better.”

Todd stared at him for a long moment. “What do you mean?” He finally said.

“You can be better. Do better. Being an arsehole… it’s not like being a werewolf, is it? You have a choice to be better. Stop making excuses for your excuses.” Dirk explained.

Todd thought about it for a moment. The thought of telling his parents he’d been lying to them for over a year? His little sister, who looked up to him? The thought alone made him nauseous. But… he couldn’t deny that Dirk had a point. It’s not like he wanted to be an asshole. It’s not like screwing up everyone else’s lives bought him some kind of weird, perverted joy. He did have a choice. He’d always had a choice. Up until now he’d just made the wrong ones, one after the other.

But maybe… just maybe it was time to make the right one. Even if it was going to hurt like hell.

“You’re right.” Todd said. “Of course you’re right.”

Dirk beamed. “I wish more people saw that.”

Todd laughed. Then he took a deep breath.

“Hey… where are you staying now?” He asked.

Dirk furrowed his brows. “A motel nearby. Why?”

Todd smiled. “Well… I have a guest room and I’m guessing I’m gonna have to start paying my own rent soon, so… You want a roommate? Even if he’s a bit of an asshole?” He asked.

Dirk’s eyes lit up like damn Christmas trees. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Todd assured.

“But you don’t actually need my help?” Dirk questioned.

Todd looked at his new, strange friend and smiled. “Actually… I think I really do.”

~

thanks for reading! if you have any ideas for fics, feel free to send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

[sadrien]

goodbyes & hellos

on ao3

im so so so late but hey this is for first day of prompt week for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare​!!!! day one: wrong number

this was a lot of fun tbh and ive been dying to write this ship. alyas texts are italicized, adriens are underlined on ao3, just bold here bc tumblrs a butt. shoutout to @reyxa​ for the title <3

enjoy!

Alya narrows her eyes at the new message that lights up her phone. It’s an unknown number that she doesn’t recognize — not that she’s given her number to anyone recently — and it’s also seven in the morning . Anyone how knows her at all should know that she doesn’t wake up before at least nine on the weekends. (And that has nothing to do with the fact that she doesn’t sleep during the week and tends to go to bed after two in the morning.)

She groans as another message shows up on the screen. She squints and lets the messages flow in, figuring she can tell the person they’ve got the wrong number after they’ve finished whatever they have to say. Or she can decide that it’s unimportant and ignore it and go back to sleep.

She likes her second plan the best.

unknown number: Hi!

unknown number: Just wanted to let you know the start time for today has been moved from 10 to 9:15

unknown number: My father has a meeting at 1300 so he wants to get it all done as soon as possible

unknown number: And I know you mentioned wanting to have him on set yesterday

unknown number: I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience! Your agent should be calling you soon, but I thought I’d give you a heads up

Alya squints at the screen. She doesn’t want to care but she’s curious. And curiousity killed the cat and all that but she’s used to letting her nosiness get the best of her.

unknown number: agents???

unknown number: 1st of all srry u have the wrong number

unknown number: 2nd of all were u talking to a movie star or smth???????

unknown number: book writer??

unknown number: what kinda person needs an agent

unknown number: Oh I’m sorry! I must’ve gotten the wrong number from someone

unknown number: I’m really sorry if I was bothering you

Alya rolls her eyes.

unknown number: u woke me up but its chill cause now im curious

unknown number: Curious? About what?

unknown number: way 2 keep avoiding the question

unknown number: ???

unknown number: u said the person u meant to text has an agent

unknown number: how fancy r they

unknown number: Oh! She’s a model!

Alya’s eyes widen. The most famous person she knows is that thirteen year old that was in her school who has ten thousand subscribers on YouTube because she makes lyric videos. The second is a boy who has a few thousand instagram followers because he has nice abs and lots of white boy clothing and muscle shirts.

unknown number: u kno a model????????

unknown number: Uhh

unknown number: I’m not sure how much personal information I should be giving to a stranger

Alya sighs. So close.

unknown number: its fine dude (dude? u good w that? lmk if u arent) i getchu

unknown number: u can just stop responding if u dont wanna talk

She locks her phone and slides it back under her pillow. She stares at the ceiling for a few more minutes, wondering if she’ll be able to fall back asleep. As much as she’d like to take the train back to dreamville, she can’t. Because now she’s awake and now she’s wondering. And once she stops wondering, she doesn’t stop.

She’ll probably stop thinking about this random wrong number in a few days and in a few months, she’ll forget about them entirely but…

Ugh.

Sleep definitely isn’t an option anymore.

Leaving her phone in her bed, she pads to the kitchen, twisting her hair up into a messy bun as she does so. No one is up yet — of course they aren’t, it’s seven on a Saturday and everyone is taking advantage of every precious minute of sleep they can get — so she has the run of the house to herself.

So she makes herself some coffee and a bowl of cereal and turns to television on. Her initial plan is to just leave it on whatever channel that’s playing when she first turns it on, and luckily the twins were the last ones to use it. Saturday morning cartoons. Score.

Alya stirs sugar in her coffee as Cyber Chase plays in the background. It’s not much more than background noise, it’s the middle of an episode and she doesn’t really know what’s happening, but she does snort at a few of the bad jokes.

“You’re up early,” her mom says before dropping a kiss on the top of Alya’s head.

Alya hums. “Got a few text messages and they woke me up.” She notes how her mom purposefully avoids eye contact as she opens a cabinet. Alya rolls her eyes and eats a spoonful of cereal.

“School friends?” her mom asks carefully.

“Yes,” Alya lies. Better than her mom asking more questions. The biggest one being why were you talking to a complete stranger?

“Are you going to see them before we leave?”

Alya glues her eyes to the TV. “If they’re around.”

Her mom makes an unimpressed sound and Alya resists the urge to roll her eyes. She texted a few of her friends the other week, but the conversation was awkward and stilted. They all had the same sort of idea about cutting ties.  

Alya sighs and puts down her spoon, twisting around in her seat to face her mom. “I promise I’m talking to them.”

Her mom gives her that look— the one where her lips purse and a crease between her eyebrows that’s becoming more and more permanent; the one that says she wants to push for more details, but won’t unless they’re volunteered first. Which Alya is not doing, thank you very much. “If you say so, honey,” her mom says, turning her attention to the breakfast she’s making.

Alya stares down into her cereal bowl.

Time to evacuate to her bedroom.

She finishes her cereal as quickly as she can without choking and dumps her bowl and spoon in the sink as she passes it, taking her coffee with her to her room. New plan: curl up in bed with her laptop and hope her mom just leaves her alone until they move.

Alya’s almost forgotten about her phone by the time she flops onto her bed. It vibrates almost as soon as she opens her laptop. She frowns as she pulls it out from under her pillow.

unknown number: Dude is fine for me

unknown number: He/him pronouns please

unknown number: Thanks for asking I really appreciate it, actually

unknown number: People don’t always ask

Plan trashed. This is a better plan.

unknown number: she/her for me

unknown number: and no prob man

unknown number: i wasnt gonna assume ur gender

unknown number: ok that mightve sounded bad but i didnt mean it in a bad way like the ‘lol dont assume my gender’ way jerks do sometime i meant it in like a genuine

unknown number: if u have smth u wanna say u should say it because i am very tired and i can go on for a while

Whoops.

Alya can’t say she’s known for her stellar first impressions but she usually doesn’t ramble her way into an awkward corner. She mindlessly flips through apps as she waits for a response.

unknown number: Don’t worry about it! I didn’t take it the wrong way or anything

Alya smiles to herself as she responds. He keeps leaving her openings which is nice. Based off his initial reaction, she thought he’d shut this down as fast as possible.

She realizes this is probably a little weird. But it’s the most exciting thing to happen to her since school let out so…

unknown number: so whats up stranger??

unknown number: b4 u ask im just sitting in my room doing nothing but text u so thats my morning

unknown number: I actually have work soon, so that’s fun

Alya raises her eyebrows. She forgot age was something else she didn’t know yet.

unknown number: oo work that sounds fun

unknown number: what do u do???

unknown number: I work for my dad, it isn’t anything special

unknown number: But it gives me something to do with my time so I don’t mind that much

unknown number: If I randomly stop responding without warning, that’s why

unknown number: good 2 kno

unknown number: can i ask what u do 4 ur dad or is that 2 personal

unknown number: I uh… I just do whatever he needs me to do

unknown number: I don’t get paid or anything but

unknown number: ay it still works as a resume builder

unknown number: Yeah exactly!

unknown number: thats cool that ur dad can get u a job!! my mom and dad could never w their jobs so i just suffer

unknown number: not that thats any different from what i would do anyway as a teenager

Alright, perfect. She’s brought up the age question in a really clunky and awkward way. Better than nothing.

unknown number: Oh how old are you?

unknown number: I’m 15

Alya lets out a sigh of relief.

unknown number: ayy same!

unknown number: just ur fav teenage superhero blogger

unknown number: doing nothing with her life

unknown number: You like superheroes?

unknown number: yeah!! i love comic books. you??

unknown number: I don’t have time to read many but yeah! I’ve always loved Spiderman

unknown number: wonder woman is my g i r l

unknown number: superheroes are just so cool

She waits a few minutes before she decides that he must have gone off to work. Bonding over superheroes, that’s good. A shared interest. She scrolls through their conversation, rereading some of the earlier messages before she creates a contact for him. She makes the name ‘stranger’ and leaves it at that.

It’s not like they’re meeting up or anything. Even if he is an ax murderer, can’t kill her if she never sends him her location.

Alya spends the next couple of hours avoiding her mom as much as possible. She takes her sisters to the park and then goes to the library after she brings them home.

She doesn’t want to talk about it.

She’s clicking through a webcomic that she missed a few weeks worth of updates when her phone buzzes. She glances down, expecting it to be a text from her mom asking if she has any plans or to do chores or something, but is pleasantly surprised to see a message from her stranger.

stranger: Sorry about that, work ran long

stranger: Admittedly, I don’t know very much about Wonder Woman, but she looks very awesome

unknown number: !!!!

unknown number: when ive got more time remind me to tell u all abou t her

unknown number: and to rec some comic books even if u dont have time

stranger: Is she your favorite?

Alya sits back in her chair. This conversation is going to be a long one.

Alya finds herself randomly texting her stranger for the next few days. He doesn’t always respond quickly, but he responds eventually, no matter how weird her original message.

That’s more than she can say for most of her friends.

She texts him as she’s sitting on the counter in her kitchen, stirring a pot.

unknown number: hey stranger whats up

stranger: Just reading, you?

unknown number: making box mac n cheese

stranger: Sounds fun

unknown number: yeah im gonna eat it straight from the pot

The three dots bounce on the screen as the stranger takes his time with the next message. Alya snorts and turns off the stove, straining the pasta and moving to the fridge to find butter and cheese. He’s found his words by the time she’s letting the butter melt in the pot.

stranger: Straight from the pot? Why?

unknown number: because i live life on the edge

unknown number: and also because im too lazy to clean the dish later

stranger: You know what? That’s fair

Sometimes, Alya thinks that she probably shouldn’t think about someone who she doesn’t even know the name of as often as she does, let alone text him as much as she does. But sometimes she’ll see something, and she’ll immediately think of him. Or she’ll just be randomly upset and feel the strong urge to pick up the phone and see if he’s available to vent to.

She knows it’s kind of weird, but she can’t help herself.

One night, at around two in the morning, she finds herself messaging him.

unknown number: hey did i ever mention i was moving

She’s almost asleep, slightly more okay than she was before she sent the text, when he responds.

stranger: You haven’t but we also don’t talk about where we live

Alya stares at the screen for a long moment, the bright light in the darkness making everything on the screen blur into nothing. She just feels kind of numb.

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: like 8 hours away from where i live now

stranger: Wow that’s a big move

unknown number: yeah

stranger: I’m guessing you don’t want to go?

unknown number: not really

unknown number: did u know ur my only friend right now

stranger: I am?

unknown number: me and my other friends sort of cut ties

stranger: The internet exists

stranger: Phones exist

stranger: FaceTime and Skype both kind of suck, but they exist

unknown number: yeah i guess

unknown number: i guess its just too hard for any of us to try

stranger: I have no idea how far apart we live

stranger: We’re doing just fine

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: yeah ur right

One of Alya’s small comforts that comes to mind whenever she thinks about moving is the fact that she’ll have her phone on her and a portable charger. Her stranger will be with her every step of the way.

He’d managed to get her to talk to some of her friends. She doesn’t really think it’ll last once she’s in Paris, but the attempt is nice. And it gives her other people to talk to for the rest of the summer.

It’s too early in the morning when they leave for the last time for her to get really emotional about moving. All she has the energy to do is to take a picture of her old apartment, caption it ‘one last goodbye to marseille’, and save it before sending it to her friends over Snapchat. Before she falls asleep against the car window, she texts it to her stranger.

She wakes up to a new text among the goodbyes from her friends.

stranger: Have a nice car ride! I’ll let you know when I get back from work <3

Alya hides her smile from her sisters and screenshots the text for later.

She texts him from the floor of her new bedroom while her dad starts moving boxes. They’ve been in the process of moving for a while now, shipping most of their things to Paris beforehand. Now all that remains is the actual unpacking.

Alya doesn’t have the energy for that. She just lays on the floor and stares at the ceiling for a while. Then she picks up her phone and sends him a text.

It’s been about an hour since they last talked. She’d talked to him for a good majority of the car ride, only stopping when he was busy and ending the conversation when they arrived so she could get her things out of the car and help her sisters with theirs. She’d sent him a picture of her empty bedroom and said ‘let the unpacking begin :P’. He’d responded with a ‘Good luck!!’ and ‘I’ll let you get to work!’

Alya’s thumb hovers over the send button for a few seconds. She’s never really pushed him for any sort of personal information before.

New city, new Alya. Or something.

unknown number: hey just wondering

unknown number: what do u have me in ur phone as??

unknown number: i have u in here as stranger

stranger: Your contact name?

stranger: Uh awkward but you don’t?

stranger: You’re the only one I just have the number for, so I know who you are that way

Alya reads his texts a few times before she responds. She doesn’t know what she expects in return, but she figures she has nothing to lose.

unknown number: im alya

unknown number: in case u were wondering

stranger: Hi Alya

stranger: I’m Adrien

[jimothyla]

Spirk prompt + really fed up Bones and entire bridge crew: Bones especially is really tired of all the pining between his two best friends and teams up with the rest of the bridge crew to set them up in """"""accidentally romantic"""""" situations until finally they just beam them down on a deserted but lovely planet and won't let them back up until they've enjoyed their date

there isn’t that much bones in this but here u go! hope u enjoy (under a read more)

1.

ADoctor [15:27]: Hey, you wanna go out tonight? Dinner with Spock & Sulu

jamest[15:30]: ya sure

jamest[15:30]: where @

jamest[15:31]: did spock say yes alr?

jamest[15:31]: askign 4 a friend

jamest[15:33]: that was weird wasnt it

ADoctor [15:35]: Christ, Jim.

ADoctor [15:36]: Yes, your boyfriend agreed. We’re going to that godforsakenhipster place Hikaru keeps talking about

jamest[15:37]: kk

jamest[15:43]: HES NOT MY BOYFRIEND BONES

ADoctor [15:45]: That took you five minutes to type?

Hikaruis standing behind Leonard, staring at his laptop. They’re in his apartmentplanning a date for Jim and Spock, which happens when you’re a) nosy; or b)tired of your friends dancing around each other for what seems like ninehundred years. “This is the lamest, most basic trick in the book, Len.”

“Listen,I’m willing to try anything that’ll make those two stop making me have to look at their pining.” Leonard turns inhis seat to look at Hikaru, his typical scowl on his face. “I can take sap orwhatever the fuck, but Jim’s sad whining is torture and Spock makes thatconstipated-lookin’ face every time Jim flirts with someone— and God knows heonly does that ‘cause he thinks he can’t get with Spock! Why can’t they justfucking—”

“O-kay, man, I get it. Let’s get us somebeer and put on a vid, then we can bail on these two and have fun.”

jamest[18:26]: bones are u on ur way

jamest[18:29]: spock is asking where u & hiki are

jamest[18:30]: My Dude™

jamest[18:31]: r u with bones???

plantdadsuluh[18:36]: no… i can’t go :( sorry!!! it’s an emergency with ben

jamest[18:38]: oh my god is he ok?

plantdadsuluh[18:40]: yeah he’s fine now! but i have to take care of him just in case

plantdadsuluh[18:41]: next time man!

jamest[18:45]: it’s ok!! i understand send him my love

“Areyou sure they are all right, Jim?” Spock asks. They’re sitting at a smallcasual dining restaurant whose theme is the early 2010’s. It’s very cozy andsomewhat rustic; Jim has always had an appreciation for the classics, so thisplace fascinates him.

“Yeah.I mean, I don’t know about Bones. He’s not replying to me.” It isn’t at allunusual for Bones to not reply, since he’s not one of those people who live ontheir phones. Though Jim has no idea what else Bones would even be doing in Yorktown.He probably just passed out and forgot about dinner.

“Perhapswe should call him,” Spock says, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Jimsmiles, shaking his head. He places down his phone on the table, hand still onit as he replies, “It’s fine. We’ll be all right.”

ADoctor [06:22]: I fell asleep, sorry

jamest[07:33]: i figured

ADoctor [07:50]: How was your date?

jamest[07:52]: oh my goD IS THAT WHY

ADoctor [07:59]: At least say thanks, Tiberius

jamest[08:01]: it was nice hes so cute nothing happened NOTHIGSN GONNA HAPPEN i hateyou & thanks

jamest[08:05]: fucker

plantdadsuluh[08:11]: :^]

2.

Eversince they got back on the Enterprise for their mission, Nyota has noticed thatHikaru spends a lot of time in Leonard’s quarters. She knows that Leonard spenta lot of time with the Sulus when they were on Yorktown, but the frequency oftheir meetings now is odd. She sends them questioning looks sometimes, when thetwo are eating separately from the rest of the group, but they always justsmile suspiciously and get back to whispering among each other. She decides tocorner them one day.

Theirshifts have just ended and Hikaru is the first one to leave the bridge. Heheads straight to the medbay and Nyota follows him there. When she comesinside, Leonard stares at her.

“Whatcan I do for you, Uhura?” Leonard is sitting by his desk. Hikaru turns towardsNyota.

“Spill.”She folds her arms in front of her chest. “What’s going on with you two?”

Immediately,Hikaru is affronted. “If you’re trying to insinuatethat I would cheat on Ben, Nyota—”

“No!”Nyota is suddenly embarrassed, wishing she’d phrased that less vaguely. “No,no, of course not, Hiki. You guys are just… are you plotting something?”

Thelook on Hikaru’s face turns very quickly from anger into panic. “It’s, uh… it’snothing! We’re planning a… party. We’re not plotting! It’s not like that.” Heshoots a look at Leonard. “Len?”

Leonard’sface is as no-bullshit as ever. “We’re trying to get your ex-boyfriend and Jimtogether.” He stands up. Hikaru’s face is pinched and awkward. “If you wannahelp, come join us. If you don’t, then don’t.”

Nyota,of course, follows. “How long have you guys been trying to do this for? Whydidn’t you tell me! I’m, like, the best resource.”

“He’syour ex, Ny,” Hikaru explains.

“I’vebeen trying to get him to say something to Jim since the start! It’s not likewe were exclusive.” Hikaru makes a face of consideration for a moment, whileLeonard isn’t fazed— she was dating Chapel then, too, after all, he definitelywould have known.  “I had to stop thoughbecause he got annoyed. So what’s the plan?”

Theplan turns out like this: they hold a formal party on the ship. No uniformsallowed; everyone’s in their own formal clothing, and surprisingly that translatesto Jim in a royal blue suit that’s almost too tight on his body. Spock is in ablack suit with a light lavender shirt underneath, and is nursing a drinkScotty made for him after Spock had agreed that getting “tipsy, as you call it”was favourable for the night.  Nyotaactually thinks this plan, as vague as it is, might work.

“So,Spock,” Jim says by way of greeting as he takes a seat beside Spock, “you goreal green when you’re drunk.”

Jimmakes a contorted face as if that wasn’t what he’d meant to say, and a glint offascination appears in Spock’s eyes. “Yes, just as humans go pink when theyconsume alcohol. I am not drunk yet, though.”

“Hm.S’cute. And I am, sorta.” Jim beams at him, but then he pauses, his eyes slowlysquinting at Spock. “Yet. You said ‘yet’.”

“Idid,” Spock confirms. He knows where Jim is heading the conversation to, and isamused by it.

“Soyou’re tryin’ to get drunk. What’s that like? I mean you— what’re you like.When you’re drunk.”

Spocktakes a sip of his drink. “I am not sure, as I have not been drunk for quitesome time.”

“Damn,Spock,” is all Jim says before he puts his arm around Spock’s shoulder andorders another round for them both.

Thenight ends with them on top of each other, on the floor of the recreation roomthe party was held in, passed out drunk with their hands touching.

3.

“Sothe party didn’t work,” Nyota starts, standing in the middle of Leonard’s quarterswith him, Hikaru and Scotty on the floor, “that doesn’t mean we have to giveup!”

“Imean….” Hikaru scratches the back of his head, blinking. “We don’t have to, butwe probably should. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m way too nosy for my own good,but we’ve got no business interfering with their relationship.”

“Asnon-existent as it may be,” Scotty adds.

Nyotaagrees, of course, but… well, she was having fun and they really didn’t haveanything better to do.

Leonardsighs. He stands up and rubs his face. “Let’s settle on this then: third time’sthe charm. If it ain’t, then we’re quitting, and that’s that. All right?” Therest of them nod in agreement. “Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do….”

“Whatdo you mean mandatory shore leave?!”Jim exclaims at Bones as he’s getting pulled out of his quarters. Bones isdragging him to the transporter room, where he sees Spock equally (but moresubdued in appearance) confused as he is. “How is this not against regulations?”

Spockblinks. “Nyota has informed me that they have followed protocol and filed theproper documents necessary for our leave.”

Jimgroans, flailing to get away from Bones’ grasp. “Fine, you monsters!” He stepsonto the transporter pad with determination and glares at Bones. “Spock, we’regonna enjoy this shore leave, and then we’re going to kill the people involvedin this coup. Understood?”

Spocktilts his head. “I will not be involved in anything against regulations, but ifyou wish for my support as you do so, I will give it.”

Jimgrins, and then they’re beamed down.

Theplace they go down to is a beach. It’s a little warm with their uniform, so Jimtakes his shirt off, leaving his undershirt on. Spock is staring off into theocean, a warmth in his expression that makes Jim smile.

“Hey,”Jim greets him, bumping his shoulder into Spock’s. Spock regards him for amoment, but looks back at the scenery before them. “You’re not… stupid,” Jimcontinues. He looks down at his feet and clenches and unclenches his hand athis side. “I mean, you obviously know.”

Spocknods. “I do.” Spock faces Jim, then. “Would you rather that I didn’t?”

Stilllooking down at the sand and fiddling with his hand, Jim replies, “No. I’vebeen… wishing that you’d just find out without me having to tell you.”

“Thatis illogical—” Jim laughs, bitter, “—but understandable.” Jim looks up, butstill not directly at Spock’s eyes. Spock wraps his hand around Jim’s wrist,extending his fingers down to stop Jim from fidgeting. “I have… longed for you,for a while. I could not find it in me to tell you. I, too, wished that yousimply just knew.”

Jimis too flustered to smile properly without hiding his face, and he still can’tlook right at Spock, but he intertwines his fingers with Spock’s. “I knowVulcans have a whole thing with hands that no-one understands, but this isokay, right?”

“Yes.”Spock rubs his fingers on the back of Jim’s hand. “This is… it is not quite akiss as humans define it, but it is close.”

Jimmakes an embarrassed noise at the back of his throat, burying his face in Spock’schest. They remain that way for a while before Jim clutches Spock by the clothat his waist with his other hand. He lifts his head and looks at Spock, blueeyes tender in their gaze. I have longedfor you, Spock had told him.

Spockcontinues to brush the pads of his fingers on Jim’s hand, soft and gentle andslow. He looks at Jim with a smile on his face.

“Ihave longed for you,” Jim repeats out loud. “God, Spock, that’s so sappy.” Jimgrins, his hand at Spock’s side grasping harder at the cloth there, almost pullingSpock closer.

Spockhuffs a breath of amusement and leans into Jim, first brushing their nosestogether, and then tilting his head to press his lips onto Jim’s. Jim lets goof their hands to wrap both his arms around Spock’s waist, opening his mouth todeepen their kiss.

Whentheir lips part, Jim remains holding Spock in his arms, resting his head oncemore on Spock’s chest. Spock hugs him back, one hand on Jim’s head and theother on his back. I have longed for you,he thinks again, I will long for you,still, for quite a while.

Group:Traitors

jamest[14:03]: planned murder aborted physically but y’all have to listen to me talkabout spock all the time now 💖💖💖

[shooklynn-blog]

Black Hole Meets Shooting Star (Chapter 3)

A/N: i’ve kind of been putting off my homework to write this fic lol but I'm just so excited for it! i have some exciting plans, but am trying to get the beginning established so that action to come later will be more justified and kind of make sense. this chapter isn’t super action-packed, but it’s good at establishing scenery and idk i just kinda like it. 

not to tell you how to live your life, but you should probably read chapter 2 first

also: you can read the whole story on wattpad here :)

summary: Dan is so sick of everybody treating Phil Lester like some untouchable prince at school. Phil wears the same flower crowns and pastels Dan was heavily bullied for, but gets no grief. Dan would give anything to have Phil’s life, something that, in his eyes, is just perfect. Phil, the distant daydreamer, walks around, paying little attention to anybody but himself. He’s the person that Dan just loves to hate. That is, until Phil finds him after getting beaten up and takes him back to his place to get him cleaned up. Maybe Dan learns that there’s more to this Phil Lester kid than what meets the eye, and maybe all the distant boy’s daydreaming is just a distraction from the horrors of every day life.

genre: angst, fluff

warning: dan is n-o-s-y like omg dan can u chill out for 0.5 seconds pls, mentions of earlier vomit?? for like one line ur gonna probably be fine lol

word count: 1,814

Chapter 3:

The door to the kitchen swung open with ease. As I walked in, I immediately noticed how incredibly clean it was. It totally put my kitchen to shame. There wasn’t a dish in sight, all of them stashed away in the dark cupboards above the granite counter. The only thing sitting on the counter was a box of envelopes, neatly filed away. The kitchen looked like it was straight out of a home renovation magazine. There was a silver fridge with a long note pinned onto it by a small yellow magnet. I couldn’t resist peeking at it. 

The note read:

“Hey Phil!

We’re so proud of you, and we know that you must be a little freaked out, but we know you’ll be fine! We’re only going to be gone for a week, and we are confident that you’ll be alright. The box on the counter has all things you might need to know in the case of an emergency, including contacts. Don’t forget to lock the doors, there should be plenty of food labeled in the fridge.

Make sure to call every night so that we can check in on you. If you have a friend who can stay over, that would be fine by us as long as you try and get to school every day and stay safe. You’re going to be fine.

XOXO,

Mum and Dad”

His parents were clearly very protective of him, but many parents were. Still, the note, clearly supposed to be comforting rather than instructions, was a little strange in itself. His parents were congratulating his bravery staying home alone? They must have cared a lot about him. He was probably an only child.

I would have killed to have parents who cared so much. Yeah, if I got seriously hurt my mum would worry about me, but it seemed like nothing to the extent of Phil’s family’s concern for their teenaged son who would be home alone for like a week. I was alone most of the time, so I was used to microwaved meals and the loneliness that accompanied most dinner times.

Looking through the box, there were instructions for everything you could have possibly imagined. They ranged from break ins to a wild hamster bearing rabies running into the house. Each envelope was clearly labeled with colorful stickers, his parents must have been pretty paranoid to put so much time into something like that. Did they not realize that he was a teenager who could, for the most part, do things himself without burning the house down. I supposed that some parents were just like that.

I went through another door, this one leading to a dimly lit hallway. The walls were burgundy, but the ceiling was the same too-bright white that the bathroom’s ceiling and the kitchen’s walls. At the end of the hall, there was a window, the only source of light in the narrow space, and a small table below it. There were 4 doors, 2 on each side of the hall. I slowly opened the first on the right.  

It was probably Phil’s parents’ room. The walls were painted a light tan and there was a large king bed with a dark brown comforter on it in the left corner of the room. A bedside table was next to it, with two framed pictures propped up and a bowl of stationary tools. The first was a picture of who I assumed to be Phil’s parents with a boy who looked to be a bit older than Phil, but looked strikingly similar to him. There were mountains in the background, and they smiled like a happy family. I couldn’t help but feel a longing when looking at the photo. His parents looked so fondly at who I assumed to be Phil’s brother.

The second picture was Phil’s school photo from last year. I snorted a little, they clearly had a favorite son. While the picture of them as a family was adorable, it was just hilarious that they had a fully framed picture of Phil and not any of the other family members.

I heard the door open behind me. I’d been caught being nosy. I spun around to see Phil looking at me, slightly panicked.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice a little deeper than before.

“I-I’m sorry, I was just wandering around and I got lost,” I stuttered, “I can go now, I’m really sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind you being here, it’s just my parents’ room,” he stood there awkwardly, just kind of looking at me. We stood in silence, just sort of coexisting. I cleared my throat.

“So, uh, where was this taken?” I didn’t care much, but the silence was making me uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” he replied softly, fidgeting with his shirt. His eyes darted around the room, never resting on anything for too long. I kind of just stood there, not knowing what else to say.

“Is that your brother?” I was trying to save the dying conversation because I had no idea what else to do. Phil looked up at me.

“Yeah, Martyn’s 2 years older than me, off at boarding school,” Phil’s tone was lighter, actually looking me in the eyes as he answered.

“Really, that’s cool. I have a brother too. How long ago was the picture taken?” If his brother was only 2 years older than him, then it must have been fairly recent, as Martyn still looked slightly older than Phil in it. Phil began to fidget again.

“I’m not sure,” he breathed, so quietly that it was a miracle I’d understood at all. I decided to drop it, he seemed to be kind of uncomfortable.

“So, where are your parents at?” I didn’t want to give away that I’d read the note on the fridge, he already thought that I was nosy enough.

“They’re visiting some famous French doctor,” he almost seemed annoyed, “but I don’t really understand why that would take a whole week.” Why would they need to visit a doctor in France? I felt a sinking feeling inside of me, maybe somebody in his family was sick. Maybe it was his brother, and he was getting treatment in the “boarding school” he was at. It would explain why he’d gotten so shut out when I asked him about Martyn. God, I was a terrible person. I decided not to pry.

“God, that must have sounded horrible. None of my family is dying of disease, my parents are just doctors, so they like to meet with other doctors,” Phil chuckled a little, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. He looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry, that reminded me, I’ve gotta call my parents to put them at ease. You can keep wandering around if you want, just don’t go opening any drawers you shouldn’t.” Had he just winked at me? He turned and walked out the door. Left standing alone, I decided to keep looking around.

I went to the room across the hall. The handle didn’t budge when I tried to open it. At this point, I had two options. I could have either left it alone as it was probably locked for a reason or used the paperclip I’d seen in Phil’s parents’ room. I went back to get the paper clip.

It was a fairly easy lock to pick, pretty standard. I was in within a matter of minutes. The room’s walls were painted black. The duvet on the bed in the corner of the room was checkered black and white. The bed was neatly made, the bedside table having accumulated a thick layer of dust. Muse, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, and Green Day Posters were all over the walls. The closet was full of band tee-shirts and black clothing. His brother reminded me of myself. I was sure I’d get along well with Martyn.

I was a little surprised that that was Martyn’s room. In the picture, he’d been wearing pretty bright clothes, it was hard to believe that the same boy in the picture owned all that black. I guess everybody went through their emo phase at some point or another.

“Jesus, when I said you could wander, I didn’t realize you’d go into the locked rooms as well,” Phil was back. He was back and he’d just caught me after breaking into his brother’s room. I turned around.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I tried to make it sound lighthearted, but Phil’s expression was much more upset than he’d been when I’d gone into his parents’ room, “Is this Martyn’s room?” He looked distant again, and that scared me more than the anger I’d seen behind his eyes just a moment before.

“Nobody lives here,” he stated monotonously. He was back to the Phil Lester from school. He was back to the robot I’d seen him as too many times. He gestured to me, “Follow me, I can give you a ride home.” I followed him through the house to his car, climbing in. It was later than I thought. How long had I been unconscious for? The sun was already down.

I could still smell my vomit from earlier. Gross. It was a long, silent car ride. The tension was so thick I could slice through it with a knife. We just went by wordlessly. I thought about how much Phil had helped me, and felt bad about breaking into the locked bedroom. I’d overstepped my boundaries. Maybe it wasn’t right to have hated this boy who showed me nothing but compassion. It didn’t change the fact that I envied his life, with doctors for parents and everybody treating him kindly. His emo brother was away at boarding school, so he didn’t have to deal with him. He was clearly the favorite child. He pulled up to my house.

“Hey, thanks for everything. If it weren’t for you, I’d still probably be bleeding and slumped over a tree,” I couldn’t put into words how much I appreciated what he did for me, and how sorry I felt about breaking into the bedroom.

“It’s fine, here’s my number. Text me if you need anything. With doctor parents, I have every type of painkiller known to man in my cabinet,” Phil’s tone was warmer than earlier, and I put his number into my phone. I wished him a good night and returned to my empty home, longing to have been able to spend a few more minutes with the not-so-stranger. He waited until I got into the door to drive away, making sure I made it up the driveway. I went straight to bed and fell asleep, wrapped in his fuzzy yellow hoodie. My dreams were peaceful, very different than the one I’d had only hours before.