#that you assuming i’m falling asleep drunk on the bus in the middle of the day????

[stonesandswords]

my parents are such fucking jackasses. they always assume absolutely the worst in me and always jump to these insane conclusions about me based off these wild assumptions they make up and will confront me very aggressively about their assumptions and will harass and gaslight me when i’m tell them i have no fucking clue what they’re talking about.

[chasingpj]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

[lost-inthedream]

U always have *chefs kiss* writing! Can we have drunk!clingy!horny! SF9?

I love this request, but the more I wrote the more it got stupid. I hope I can at least make you smile :)

The text below has some suggestive parts.

.

Drunk! SF9

Just a party where the boys drink too much

Youngbin:

Seems that will never get drunk. 

Is still apparently doing all right and sounding pretty coherent even though he drained way too many bottles. 

Ok Maybe he’s cursing much more than usual and stopping what he’s saying to stole you a kiss in front of all your friends, just to come back to talk again. But he’s still very collected.

You’re already sure that he’s doing better then you, who didn’t drink a single drop. He’s happy, funny and shows affection. No problems, right?

Until he gets up saying that need to pee (yes, he didn’t said go to toilet or something because his filter is nowhere to be found) and falls on his face. OMG

Everybody stops but he gets his head up so fast “I’m fine!!” He’s laughing, everyone around is laughing and stuff, but you decide to follow him and help, because it’s a long way (not really) to the restroom and it’s full of dangers.

“Why are you coming with me y/n? What are you gonna do to me there?( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ” “I’m gonna help you! You can’t walk properly.” He’s not convinced though.

Will clain that he wasn’t really drunk in the morning after. But don’t touch his chin, it’s sore.

Inseong:

Doesn’t have any alcohol tolerance

What’s self control? Everybody is his new best friend and he will say that he loves them.

Sits on your lap (Man he’s heavy) and tells you stories about his childhood that you know that are lies.

Forgets what he’s talking about in the middle of a word and stares at you intensely. Eventually forgets that he forgot something and initiates another crazy topic.

Probably gets sure that he’s a video game character at some moment of the night. That’s when you say that you two need to go home.

Good luck at collecting him. He will run away from you as he’s a 5 years old.

You finally gets convinced that he entered little space and you’ll only have your boyfriend again the next day. Let’s pray together to 27 years old Inseong to come back

You’re kind of dragging him home when he suddenly yells at you “Mom I don’t wanna go home!”

This is the history of the day you think about breaking up with him for the first time.

Jaeyoon:

Manages to get more overwhelming than he already usually is.

Seduces the DJ so them play the song he wants.

You sees him almost kissing the DJ from where you were, because Jaeyoon openly told you that he had to have some important talk with them.

When you question him about what he did, he acts like it was the most normal thing. “Sometimes a man have to fight for what he wants.” “Jaeyoon you just wanted a song to be played.” He ignores you.

You ask yourself if he doesn’t deliberately seduces people when he’s sober too.

Shameless Jaeyoon in the building.You lose count of how many people he flirted with when you were literaly by his side.

He wants everyone to follow his choreo when his song plays. Remember that Michael Jackson Thriller dance scene in 13 Going on 30. And it works because he’s a Leo after all.

Wakes up in the next day as he had done nothing absurd. Looks at you like a pure angel.

Dawon:

Everything is cool until he forgets he’s your boyfriend.

But wait,  it’s not a tragedy, he somehow wants you to be his baby tonight.

“Sanghyuk, I’m actually your girlfriend.”

“What? Do you wanna be my girlfriend? You’re kinda easy... But I just wanna something casual.”  Boi what?!

You decides to play that role so he won’t disturb another person. 

Pays you a drink and you feel like you’re knowing him all over again. It’s actually nice. He does his best to impress you and you remember how much you hated that he wanted you to think he was cool in your first date. Because actually he is and aways was perfect just being himself.

You get kinda curious to know how it will be if you both have sex as it was the first time.

But he falls asleep a little bit after you take your skirt off and you just lay by his side nesting yourself on his chest for some minutes before taking a shower.

Rowoon:

Turns into a coala or maybe he thinks your bodies just exist glued one to the other.

Lets you interact with your friends and the other guests as long as you let him hug you.

Complains when you jerk or move around. He has no idea of what is going on around him but doesn’t mind.

Actually is sleepy but you misundersand him as just your clingy tall boy.

That’s your mistake.

sleeps on your shoulder and I ask you: How will you take him home now dear?

He’s already drooling and you wanna cry because he doesn’t wake up.

Zuho

Introduces you to everyone he knows. And man he knows so many people.

Squeezes your butt while casually talk to them, your eyes almost jump out off your face but you try to play it cool and talk to him about that later.

Lets one of your spicy cheesy pet names escape from his mouth while explaining what you work with. It gets so awkward. You look at his friends with panic in your eyes and they try to laugh it off but damn. It’s bad.

Juho doesn’t see any problem on it though. “You’re my Hot Candy, what’s wrong with it?”

He eventually understand that you’re upset and apologizes. Because you’re upset not because he did an absurd.

Asks if you don’t wanna taste his lollipop to cool down. He’s not kidding

You come back home early and use all the sweets vocabulary you both can think while havind the most wild sex ever.

Taeyang

You have the impression that this boy have never drunk before.

“Y/n this drink is so gooooood.” he says for the 10th time. 

“I think you better stop Tae.”

“Whyyyyyy???”

He develops a brand new way to talk, extending the vowels and sounding really cute indeed but annoying and silly too.

He seems to forget he’s introvert, because God, He dances with everybody and shares drinks with strange people after you said he wouldn’t drink anymore.

Tries to persuade you to change your mind by seducing you.”c’mon we’re both sexy, let’s have more fuuuuuun. Where's that drink?"

Hwyoung:

The peace and love drunk

Insists to walk around with an empty bottle and stop the people he finds beautiful to compliment them. Don’t take the bottle off his hand.

Didn’t really bother anyone. He gets people complimenting him back (because he’s a beauty, look his hair). What makes him feel a happy little bean 

Eventually sleeps in the most weird position, but you prefer to not move him. 

You wink and he’s gone.  Just his bottle friend is there. How did a very drunk Hwiyoung just desappear like smoke.

You find him crying in a corner because he doens’t know where he left the bottle.

Chani:

Has very deep conversations with you while using a snack straw shapped as a cigarette.

His low voice gets even more sexy. How is it possible?

Tells you things that you never thought you would ever hear from him. Things he have done and things he wants to do but would never assume when sober.

There was that time he couldn’t contain his need to pee when he was on a bus (he was 17)

Doesn’t want to move much because what's the use if everything is already spinning around him?

Complains that everyone is boring and you are included

Still loves you the day after.

[eldritchsurveys]

667.

1. If you found a baby turtle on the side of the road, would you pick it up and keep it? >> If I found a baby of any species on the side of the road, I’m not going to pick it up and keep it, I’m going to call the appropriate authorities and let them handle it. The fuck am I doing with a baby anything? 2. Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? >> --- 3. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? >> --- 4. Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? >> It was all right. At least the Sun was out a bit, and I managed to go out for once. Mostly I’m glad to be back in my bed now, lol. 5. Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? >> No.

6. How about you, do you have a bf/gf? >> Hm. 7. Could you date someone very attractive, but who thought they were better than everyone else? >> I don’t date, period, but I also wouldn’t hang out with someone who had a superiority complex. 8. So do you have a best friend? >> No. 9. What would you do if your best friend kissed the last person you kissed? >> --- 10. Do you dislike anyone? >> Not really. There are people I don’t really want to be around, of course, but I can’t think of anyone specific that I’m like “fuck that guy in particular” about except for people that have unapologetically hurt me (in which case it’s less “I dislike you” and more “I don’t even want to acknowledge your existence”). 11. Did you message your best friend today? >> --- 12. Do you think you will be in a relationship two months from now? >> I don’t see why not. 13. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? >> Yeah, because I have Trauma Brain. But I also know that I don’t make any more mistakes than the average person and most of my mistakes are easily fixed. 14. How do you feel about your hair right now? >> I’m going to need to buzz it again soon. 15. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? >> Maybe someone has a tattoo of my name, because my name doesn’t just belong to me. But no one has a tattoo of my name that is actually about me. 16. Who did you last see shirtless? >> A couple of characters on Carnivale (before one of them got hanged with the word “HARLOT” carved into her forehead, of course. this is Carnivale after all). 17. How would you feel if you got the person you liked? >> --- 18. Do you think you can last in a relationship for six months without cheating? >> *sigh* 19. Do you like to make the first move? >> The first move to what? 20. Do you think you will ever be married? >> I am married. 21. Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? >> Sure. 22. Is it possible to be single and happy? >> Duh? 23. Was the first person you talked to today male or female? >> The first person I spoke to was the bartender at Gardella’s, who is female. 24. Do you remember who you liked on New Year’s? >> --- 25. Are you a morning person or a night person? I’m barely a person. <-- mood 26. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? >> Whether I “can” or not is irrelevant because I don’t fucking want to. 27. Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? >> Sure. 28. Is there anyone who likes you? >> --- 29. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? >> --- 30. Do you understand football? >> I understand American football. I don’t know anything about soccer football except the obvious bits. 31. What’s the first thing you heard this morning? >> I don’t know. 32. Who last called you beautiful? >> I don’t know. 33. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? >> No. 34. How many kids do you want when you get older? >> --- 35. Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/girlfriend every week? >> Of course not. 36. Ever been called a jerk/bitch? >> Yep. 37. Do you have feelings for anyone? >> Bold of you to assume I have feelings-- 38. If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? >> Falling while pregnant is dangerous, oof-- 39. What’s your full name? >> *eldritch screeching* 40. Are you young or old? >> Depends on your perspective -- to a child I’m old, to a middle-aged person I’m young, etc. 41. What’s the gender? >> Oh, the gender outside is frightful... 42. How’s your heart been lately? >> You know. Beating and such. 43. Why aren’t you in bed? >> I am, though. 44. Did you do laundry today? >> No. 45. What kind of computer do you have? >> I have an MSI Leopard Pro and a Lenovo Ideapad. 46. Are there always other fish in the sea? >> Not if you overfish. 47. What can your tongue do? >> You know. Lick stuff. Form phonemes. Get chemical burns when I eat too many sour candies in a row. 48. What do you think your mum does when she goes out? >> --- 49. Do chickens have feelings? >> I don’t know anything about chicken neurology/psychology. 50. Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? >> No. 51. So how are you feeling today? >> Neutral. 52. Where is your sister right now? >> --- 53. Name five things you did today? >> Took a bus, drank at a bar, briefly logged into ESO, watched an episode of Carnivale, ate mac n’ cheese with bacon. 54. What kind of phone do you have? >> Moto g6. 55. What are you listening to? >> Nothing. 56. What do you smell like? >> A bit like my roll-on oil and a bit like my whipped shea butter. Mostly just like... clean skin or whatever. 57. What colour are your eyes? >> Dark brown. 58. Have you ever done a Chinese fire drill? >> No. 59. Do you know someone named Betsy? >> No. 60. What colour is your mum’s hair? >> --- 61. Do you have a dog? Breed? Name? >> No. 62. Do you remember singing any songs as a kid? >> I mean, yeah? 63. Are you married? >> Yes. 64. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? >> --- 65. Do you play an instrument? >> No. 66. Do you like fire? >> Sure, fire is nice. In moderation. 67. Are you allergic to anything? >> No. 68. Have you ever been to a spa? >> I’ve been to a nail spa because Sparrow works at one. I’ve also been to the Aveda spa that she did her training in years ago. 69. Do you miss someone? >> No. 70. Views on premarital sex? >> I have no views on it. I really can’t fathom having an opinion on whomst other people fuck and when. 71. What is a noise that you cannot stand? >> Face sounds. Any of them. Eating, breathing, sniffling, lip-licking, eugh. Stay away. (Sometimes I can hear myself blinking and I want to rip my eyelids off. It’s bad.) 72. Do you know how to do a cartwheel? >> Yeah. 73. What is the most you are willing to spend on a pair of sunglasses? >> Not much. 74. Does your mum vacuum early in the morning while you’re asleep? >> --- 75. Do you shower naked? >> Do I look like Tobias Funke to you? 76. Does wearing glasses really make people look smart? >> That’s not my interpretation. People with glasses just look like people with glasses. 77. Are you ADD or ADHD? >> No. 78. Do your band-aids have cartoons on them? >> I FUCKING WISH. I was so mad when I needed band-aids for my feet and none of the ones in the size I needed came in cartoon print. The only ones with fun designs were little baby band-aids. I think as an adult I should be able to buy whatever the fuck kind of band-aids I want, including ones with Stitch on them. Fuck you. 79. Have you ever kissed someone you shouldn’t have? >> Probably. 80. In one word, how would you define yourself? >> I wouldn’t. 81. Tell me about a dream you had recently? >> I can’t, I can never remember them anymore. I get vague wispy impressions upon waking, and then even those disappear after a few minutes. I feel disconnected from dream!Mordred and I’m so curious at what it’s been up to. 82. Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? >> --- 83. How did you feel when you woke up? >> Fine, I guess. 84. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up this morning? >> I don’t know, probably something related to Sparrow knocking around as she got ready for work, because that’s my first sensory memory upon awakening. 85. Name something great that happened on Friday? >> It’s Thursday, ask me on Saturday. 86. When was the last time you saw your father? >> --- 87. Do you wish someone would call or text you right now? >> No. 88. Have you ever been kissed by a person whose name starts with J? >> Yeah. 89. Do you crack your knuckles? >> Yeah. 90. What were you doing twenty minutes ago? >> Probably still this survey, since it’s so long. 91. You’re thinking about someone, aren’t you? >> No. 92. Have you held hands with anyone in the past twenty-four hours? >> No. 93. What would you do if your partner still kept pictures of their ex? >> Nothing? That doesn’t affect me. 94. What if your partner went through your cellphone? >> I wouldn’t be with someone that went through my belongings without my express permission. 95. What if your partner was flirting with another girl/boy? >> I’d be glad for her. I hope she gets whatever she’s looking for from that interaction. 96. Ever liked someone you thought you didn’t stand a chance with? >> --- 97. You want someone/something? >> Not really. 98. Is there really a difference between Coke and Pepsi? >> Yeah, which is why many people have a preference. 99. Is there any emotion you’re trying to avoid right now? >> No. 100. Are there any mistakes with your recent ex you wish you could have changed? >> I’m pretty sure the entire situation in itself was a mistake, and it was changed, by us ending up having no contact with each other. 101. Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? >> I mean, sure. 102. Background on your computer? >> Right now it’s a wallpaper with a scene from the movie Interstellar. (My desktop wallpaper is on a shuffle timer.) 103. Have you cried recently? >> Like, within the last week, probably. 104. Who has hurt you the most? >> I don’t know. 105. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? >> Sure. 106. What language do you want to learn? >> --- 107. Your ex’s car breaks down and they ask you for a lift. Your response? >> I mean, I don’t drive, dude. Also, we live in wildly different parts of the country. This is just so many layers of implausible. 108. Would you hit a member of the opposite sex? >> ---

[hardenshippingheadcanons]

I have a hardenshipping au idea! What if Maxie was an independent, well known fashion designer in the 70's, and Archie was starting out his career as a model; looking for ways to gain fame and attention. Eventually, (somehow) Maxie finally meets Archie after various interviews and tryouts of his new male clothing line on other male models, until he settles on Archie, seeing his potential. After some time they get to know each other, they start to grow closer. Please and thank you so much!!

Okay so I may have gone a bit too far because this thing is almost 9000 words long, which is like, four times my average O_O

Anyways, I tried my best, but I don’t know much about fashion or the 70s, so I added some homophobic parents and buses… lots of buses for some reason. Also at some point I forgot Hoenn was a tropical region and I made it snow…. I have no idea how I forgot that.

I hope this is at least slightly what you wanted

“No no no! They’re all wrong!”

Tabitha sighed. They had been over this four times already, and yet Maxie continued to be difficult. “You’ve got to pick one, sir. The show is in a few months and you can’t start making the outfits until you have a model.”

“None of these men work, Tabitha!” Maxie yelled, swiping a bunch of notes and fabric off of one of the work desks in their small studio to underline his point. “They all look too… I don’t know! But they’re not what I want!”

Tabitha sighed again and rubbed his eyes. He felt a headache coming on. “Maxie, please.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Maxie continued. “We should hold auditions, that’s what we should do. Forget about these ‘professionals’, get some new people!”

That… actually wasn’t that bad of an idea, Tabitha thought. Some random person would probably be much cheaper than professional models. But they would have to be trained….

“Tabitha, you go sort that out. We can hold the audition next Saturday, after I’m done the last outfit for Courtney.”

And just like that Maxie was back at his desk furiously scribbling away in his sketchbook. Tabitha knew that Maxie could do great things and would be a huge person in the fashion industry some day, but Arceus, whoever got stuck working with him would have their work cut out for them.

—————

Maxie was waiting at the bus stop, nervously looking up at the sky and shifting his weight in agitation. It looked like it would start raining any minute, and he was holding months worth of notes. If the bus didn’t get here soon….

Maxie felt a presence behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Not many people used this buss stop.

Behind his was a dark skinned man with a goofy smile on his face. They made eye contact, and Maxie immediately turned away.

‘Please don’t take that as an invitation to talk to me, I don’t want to talk to a stranger right now….’

“Hey, what’s your name?”

Well, there goes that hope.

The man had stepped beside him so they could talk, and Maxie realized that the man was pretty tall.

“Who are you?” Maxie asked.

“Ohhh, secretive, huh? I like that. I’m Archie. What’s with all the paper?”

Maxie glanced up at the sky again, then down the street where the bus should be coming already. Nothing.

“It’s work,” Maxie stated. Where was that bus?

“What do you do?” Archie leaned over to try to get a look, but Maxie pulled his work closer towards himself. He hated letting people see his work before it was released.

“Oh hey, the bus!”

That got Maxie’s attention. Coming down the street was the city bus. Which was perfect timing, because Maxie felt the first drop of rain fall on his hand.

Archie was waving at the bus, as though the bus driver didn’t see them. Had this man never used a bus before? Maxie thought in irritation. He had known this man for two minutes, and already he was loosing patience. Maxie wasn’t the most patient person in the world, but even he normally lasted a bit longer than that.

When the bus stopped, Maxie got in first and chose a seat near the back. As usual, the bus was practically empty. There was an old lady at the front, a drunk, passed out man in the middle, a student between them…. and Archie, who was walking straight to the back, towards Maxie. Great….

Archie sat in the row opposite of Maxie, with his legs in the aisle. “So, what do you do for work?”

The bus took off.

“I’m a designer,” Maxie said, pulling his notes close again. Why was this man so determined?

“Cool! What do you design?”

Maxie sighed irritably. He hated talking to strangers, he hated telling people about his job, and he absolutely hated people who wouldn’t leave him alone!

“Woah, you look angry,” Archie said. Maxie glared at him. “Do you not like your job or something?”

“Wha- how could you - No! No I absolutely do NOT hate my job! I absolutely LOVE my job, and I work my butt off every day just to stay relevant! How dare you assume-“

“Woah woah, calm down. I didn’t mean to make you upset, jeez,” Archie said, but he was holding back a laugh behind that big, stupid smile, and that just made Maxie angrier.

“Oh, hey, this is my stop,” Archie said as the bus slowed down.

Maxie sat back and huffed. In just a few minutes this man has made him furious. That was a new record. There was something about him that was just so infuriating.

Archie got to the front of the bus and stoped to look back. “Bye, Red!” He called, giving Maxie a huge wave. Maxie groaned and smacked his head against the seat in front of him as Archie left.

Well, at least he’d never have to see that man again. That thought calmed him down.

————

“Well, thank you for coming. We’ll contact you soon if you get the position,” Tabitha said with a warm smile. The man that had just auditioned smiled and thanked them before leaving.

“He was nice,” Tabitha stated as he attached the photo of the man to their notes.

“Not what I’m looking for,” Maxie replied. He was barely taking any notes at this point. He knew what he wanted, and none of these people were that.

“Maxie, you’ve got to pick someone,” Tabitha said. “You can’t  just wait for the perfect guy to come walking in. You have to get this line finished in a few months!”

“I know, Tabitha!” Maxie snapped. It wasn’t his fault that all these people had the same body type. They were all too… average. Definitely not the big, buff, hero type that Maxie needed for this line. He really should have looked for a model earlier….

“Okay, Maxie, look. There are six more guys out there waiting to audition. You’ve got to pick either one of the ones we see today, or one of the ones that sent in their applications. Just… try to have an open mind, okay?”

“I liked the last guy,” Courtney said. Maxie had almost forgotten that she was in the room. She was sat in a corner, wearing one of the outfits that Maxie had made for this line. The male model had to complement her, after all. It didn’t matter how perfect he was if he didn’t look good beside her.

Maxie sighed. “Let the next guy in.” He started doodling in the notebook that Tabitha had given him to take notes on the models. Was it even worth seeing the next few? He should just pick one and get it over with. Maybe he could redesign some of the outfits to work.

The door opened, and Maxie heard Tabitha talking to the next model. The man laughed at something Tabitha said, and Maxie looked up, recognizing the voice.

“Hey, Red! I didn’t know you worked here!”

It was Archie.

Maxie groaned and smacked his head against the table. He didn’t even bother looking back up. Maybe if he just stayed like this the universe would take pity on him and just end it all.

Of all the people….

“Oh, you know each other?” Tabitha asked.

“No!”

“Yeah, we took the same bus yesterday. What are the odds!”

Maxie shifted his head to glare at Tabitha, who had a funny grin on his face. Maxie supposed that he had put Tabitha through some rough times these past few days, so seeing Maxie suffer a bit was enjoyable to him.

“So if you would just come this way, we’ll take a photo and some information to attach to our notes,” Tabitha said, motioning towards the camera.

Maxie finally decided to sit up straight and take a stretch. His shoulders hurt, his legs were asleep, and his tea was cold. Could this day get any worse?

He heard Tabitha and Archie chatting, and decided to turn towards Courtney. “Would you mind getting me some tea, Courtney?” Maxie asked.

“Sure,” Courtney said, getting up and fluffing her dress out a little. “Do you guys want anything?” Courtney called.

“Could I get a refill, please?” Tabitha asked.

“Ohh, can I have a coffee? I was waiting out in that room for like, an hour. I could really use one,” Archie said, shooting Courtney a huge smile.

Maxie rolled his eyes, but caught the blush on her cheeks before she left.

“Maxie will give you a form to fill out while I print this picture,” Tabitha said.

“Oh, so you’re ‘Maxie’ then?” Archie asked as he sauntered over to the desk. “Well, nice to officially meet you, Maxie. I’m Archie, as you know.”

Maxie rolled his eyes and passed the form over. “You’ve got an awful lot of confidence,” Maxie pointed out. “It almost comes off as arrogant.”

Archie laughed, brushing off the insult. “You should always be confident in what you do! Even if you’re not the best, if you give it your all you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. And that’s how I like to live!”

That was actually good advice, but coming from Archie it just made Maxie more irritated. How much longer until this guy was gone? He’s been doing these auditions all day, he should know how long they take. But it was like Archie managed to sweep all his metaphorical papers off of the desk that is Maxie’s mind when he’s around.

“There, all done,” Archie said with a smile as he passed the form back to Maxie. He gave it a quick look to make sure nothing was missing before he put it back down.

“Great, thank you.”

“So, uh… now what?” Archie asked. Was there a bit of indecisiveness in there?

“Have you never auditioned before?” Maxie asked, teasing him. Of course they would tell him what to do, but if he could spend a few minutes making Archie feel like he should already be doing something, well… that would make today far more enjoyable.

“Not for a model, no. I’m an actor,” Archie admitted.

“Actor?” Maxie asked. Well, he did seem like a ‘theatre kid’, to be honest.

“Why are you applying to be a model, then?”

“Oh, you know,” Archie waved his hand around. Maxie did not know, but before he could cut in with the sarcastic remark Archie continued. “There ain’t much auditions for actors after the contest hall burnt down last month, so a guy had so make do. Besides, this sounded like fun, and it would be something cool to put on my resume.”

Maxie frowned. “You do know that this job would be a several month contract. You couldn’t just quit if a better opportunity came around.”

“Of course not,” Archie looked offended. “When I commit to something, I commit. I don’t care what it is.”

“Okay, we’re all ready, Archie,” Tabitha said as Courtney walked in and handed everyone their drinks.

“Oh, thank you,” Archie said with a small bow to her. “It’s absolutely perfect!”

Maxie rolled his eyes, but Courtney gave a cute giggle, which was shocking for the normally stoic girl.

“Great, let’s begin,” Tabitha announced with a clap of his hands.

————

“Thank you, Archie. We will contact you in a few days if you get the part,” Tabitha said.

“Thanks! Either was, this was pretty fun,” Archie said, giving Courtney an overdramatic kiss on the hand.

“Urgh,” Maxie said as he tossed his notes towards Tabitha.

“What do you mean?” Tabitha whispered to him. “He’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t he!?”

“An arrogant, overdramatic idiot?” Maxie whispered back. “Why would I ever want that?”

Tabitha rubbed at his eyes and sighed. “Who cares about his personality, it’s his body that’s important. Look at him!”

Maxie felt his face flush but quickly regained composer. He had completely forgotten what he was supposed to be looking for.

Archie was giving his goodbyes to Courtney. He was much taller than her, which was a must. Dark skinned, muscular…

Maxie felt his heart drop as he realized Tabitha was right. Archie was perfect. ‘For this modelling job!’ Maxie quickly corrected himself. Perfect for this job.

Perfect, and somehow knew how to push all of Maxie’s buttons. He honestly wasn’t sure that they could make it through the next few months if they hired him though. One of them was sure to kill the other. Most likely Maxie killing Archie.

But no one else had come close to the look that Maxie needed.

“There are still five more, right? Let’s get through them before we make any decisions.”

Maxie tried really hard to find positives in the rest of the guys, but none of them held a candle to Archie.

Maxie groaned and pushed his fingers through his hair when the last man left.

“So?” Tabitha asked.

Maxie sighed and closed his eyes. This was a huge mistake.

“Archie it is, then,” Tabitha said.

————

“What’s this do?”

“I said don’t move!”

“Sorry,”

Maxie sighed and readjusted his glasses. It’s been less than a day, and Archie had somehow made him angry enough to go out for two smoke breaks. Which was saying something, since he was trying to quit and was down to one a week before today.

This man would literally be the death of him.

“Is it that hard to stand still?” Maxie asked. “Is that not something you have to do in your plays?”

“It’s different in plays,” Archie countered as he got back into position and Maxie started measuring again. Archie was a bit nervous of all the pins Maxie had shoved in his mouth, but didn’t say anything about them, instead going with “I’m not me in those plays. But I’m me here, so yeah. Pretty hard to stay still.”

“Then don’t be you,” Maxie said with surprising clarity despite having a dozen or so pins held between his teeth. “Hold this.”

Archie grabbed it and awkwardly held the fabric in the exact spot it was when it was handed to him. He had really only known Maxie a day, but he could tell how passionate he was about this fashion stuff, so he didn’t want to do anything to mess it up. “Oh, come on, you like me,” Archie teased.

“I really don’t,” Maxie countered, pinning some fabric behind Archie’s back. “Pass that to me.”

Archie passed him the fabric. “What are you doing?”

“My job,” Maxie replied. “Which is much easier to do in silence, I might add.”

“That’s no fun!” Archie shot back. “Time goes by much faster when you’re having a conversation!”

“Well, lucky for me I’m short on time, and therefore if your hypothesis is true, we should remain silent,” Maxie said, reaching toward his desk to write down some notes.

“Jeez man. You sound like a scientist when you talk like that,” Archie said.

“Yes, well, I was originally going to be a geologist,” Maxie said as he pulled some fabric tighter and pinned it at Archie’s side.

“Really? What made you switch?” Archie asked. At least they were getting somewhere. It would suck to spend months with a guy who doesn’t want to talk to you.

“My family wanted me to be a geologist. I wanted to be a fashion designer,” Maxie said. We was back to Archie’s front, eyes quickly shifting all over as he calculated where to put the next pin.

“Yeah, it sucks when your family pressures you,” Archie agreed.

Maxie looked up at him for a split second before going back to work. “What were you supposed to be?”

“My whole family are sailors,” Archie said. That was somewhat surprising, and yet Maxie could absolutely see Archie on a dock pulling a boat in. “We own a small shipping company, and I was supposed to take over the family boat. It’s the biggest one we have, and it’s been passed down for generations.”
“How long does a boat usually last?” Maxie asked. He couldn’t imagine that a wooden vessel constantly sitting in water could last for generations.

“We fix things as they break, so as long as you do that they last a long time,” Archie said. He stretched his arm up as Maxie tapped it and pointed up. A pin connected fabric under his arm, then Maxie allowed him to put it down again.

“If you keep fixing it, though, is it the same ship in the end?” Maxie asked as he went to get more pins.

“What do ya mean?” Archie asked.

Maxie grabbed a new roll of fabric and some scissors, and shuffled back toward Archie. “Like, if I were to replace the handle of my broom, and a few years later I replace the brush part of my broom, is it the same broom? Because all the pieces have been swapped, so would it not technically be a different broom?”

“Huh,” Archie said. “Never thought of that.”

————

“Achuuuuu!”

“Could you stop!?”

“Sorry?” Archie sniffed.

“Honestly, what kind of idiot goes ice skating on a lake this time of year,” Maxie said as he drew on the fabric where he would cut. Sometimes he would just cut as he went, but not when any second could result in a sneeze.

“When I was a kid the rivers were always frozen through at this time! We used to play hockey after school every day!” Archie complained. He sniffed again. He looked absolutely miserable.

“Yes, well, you’re not a kid anymore. And it’s been an exceptionally warm autumn. You should have known.”

Archie coughed, and Maxie dropped the fabric and walked off in exasperation. “This is ridiculous. Why did you even come in today?”

“You said I can’t miss a day unless someone was literally dying,” Archie pointed out. “And that person had to be me.”

Maxie leaned against a pile of fabric and held his head in his hands. “We can’t get any work done like this,” He stated as Archie began a coughing fit.

This one was longer than usual, so Maxie decided to bring him his coffee and started removing the half done outfit. “I’m fine, really. Just need a drink and I’ll be fine,” Archie tried to convince himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Archie. You’re taking a break,” Maxie finished removing the outfit and pushed him lightly towards the sofa. Maxie had used it to sleep overnight in his studio many nights, so it was one of the most comfortable ones he could afford at the time.

Archie sank into it with a content sigh and sipped his coffee. “I could really go for a nap,” he said, shifting himself so he was lying down. “Wake me when you’re ready to go again.”

Before Maxie could even reply, he was asleep, mouth open and gasping for breath as his nose was blocked. Maxie sighed and got the spare blanket he kept in the closet, and threw it on Archie. He only ever wore boxers and a tank top during work, and he didn’t even bother getting back into his clothes before passing out.

Maxie looked outside. It was really snowing hard now. He went to the fire place and threw in another log to keep it warm.

While he waited for Archie to wake up he might as well get some work done. He pulled out his sketchbook and started drawing some new ideas. But they all sucked. Creativity would not come.

Maxie sighed and glanced at Archie. Well, when all else fails, draw what you see, he thought.

———

“Hey, wanna go out for dinner?” Archie asked in his normal, upbeat voice.

“What?” Maxie asked, feeling his face heat up.

“Some friends and I are going to that new restaurant for dinner tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come,” Archie said.

“Oh! Oh, um, I’m not sure,” Maxie replied, getting back to work. “I don’t know them, and…. Well, I guess that’s it.”

Archie laughed, a laugh that always made Maxie smile for some reason. “Oh, c’mon Max! The entire time I’ve known you you’ve only talked about two people - and you work with them! Do you even have friends?”

Maxie’s face flushed, but this time in embarrassment. “What? Of course I do!”

“Name one,” Archie countered.

“Richard!”

“… Richard?”

“Yes,” Maxie said, ‘accidentally’ poking Archie with a pin, which made him jump.

“What does ‘Richard’ do?” Archie said in a I totally know you’re lying but I’m going to humour you tone of voice.

“He’s a… one of those guys who sells tickets at the theatre,” Maxie said. That’s stupid, why was that the first thing to come in his mind?

“Oh, really? At what theatre?”

Fffffffffuu-

“C’mon Max. It won’t kill you to go out for one night. Besides, didn’t you say we were ahead of schedule? Celebrate!”

Maxie sighed. “What time?”

————

“So, what made you move here, Maxie?”

Maxie wanted to disappear. He had thought Archie would have a bunch of friends, and that he could just kinda let them talk amongst themselves without talking much himself. But turns out by “friends” he meant two. A married couple.

“I had some, uh…. family problems,” Maxie said, hoping that would be enough.

“Hey man, no need to tell me about family problems!” The man, Mat, said. “My family’s great, but Shelly’s? Wooooh! They need help!”

“Yeah,” Shelly said in irritation. “Our whole family had to move because the church found out my sister was gay.”

Maxie tried his best to hide his cringe. Were these really the people Archie associated with? Did he think the same way they did?

“Eh, she shoulda joined the navy!” Archie said. “Loads of gays there.”

“Yeah,” Mat added. “They don’t care what you are out at sea.”

“My family’s religious,” Shelly said. “Doesn’t matter where you are, it’s still wrong.”

“Hey, so how are you guys liking Lilycove?” Archie cut in.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Shelly said, and Mat nodded along. “The beach at night? Nothing more romantic than that!”

Maxie felt some of his tension leave. At least the topic was shifted now. But he still wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

—————

“Bye Archie! It was nice meeting you Maxie!”

Maxie gave a little wave, which was dwarfed beside Archie’s full arm wave. “See you guys later!”

Maxie turned and started walking towards the bus stop. Archie ran to catch up a moment latter.

“The food there was pretty good! Still not as good as the place on the other side of town, but that’s a long bus ride. Hey, you okay?”

“Great,” said Maxie, maybe a bit too harshly.

“Maxie? Hey, c’mon, what did I do this time?” This wasn’t the first time Maxie had gotten angry. Archie wasn’t the most perceptive of people though, so he rarely noticed until after the fact that he was angry.

“Nothing,” Maxie said less harshly. Technically he didn’t do anything. It was his homophobic friend that had made him feel horrible. They said people were more accepting on the east coast, but Maxie knew that there would always be people like her. He was almost getting used to not hearing anything homophobic, so it was about time, Maxie thought with irritation.

And the worst part was that she seemed nice other than that. Maxie could have seen himself being friends with her if she wasn’t….

Or if he wasn’t gay. That would solve a lot of problems.

“C’mon, I had to have done something. You never get upset for no reason.”

They reached the bus stop, and Maxie leaned against the post as he waited. What time was it anyway? He didn’t want to wait long.

“Maxie? C’mon, tell me. Pleeeaaassseee?”

Maxie was grinding his teeth so hard that he was sure he was causing lasting damage. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The buss going the opposite way stopped across the street. Maxie knew that the bus station wasn’t far, and that the bus would turn around once it reached the station. He somehow felt better knowing it would only be twenty minutes or so.

“Max?”

“Stop!” Maxie shouted. People passing looked their way, but kept going.

“….. Did I do something?” The question was softer this time, lacking Archie’s usual energy. Maxie realized that despite how many fights they had had, he’d never actually snapped at Archie before.

That was a sobering thought.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Archie.” Maxie half expected Archie to continue to try to get the information out of him, but he didn’t. He just silently stood beside Maxie, waiting for the bus.

A whole two minutes of silence passed before Maxie pulled out a cigarette. Forget quitting, today he was having as much as he wanted.

His hands shook as he tried to light it, and he went through three matches before he gave up. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth with a sigh and stared up at the sky. It had no right showing off such a beautiful sunset when Maxie was feeling horrible.

“Are you okay?”

Maxie glanced over at Archie. He had almost forgotten that he was still there. Maxie rubbed his hands over his face, trying to release some of the tension there. “I’m fine.”

Archie went to say something more, but thought better of it.

Another few minutes passed.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Maxie could see Archie turn to look at him through the corner of his eye, but he refused to look at the man. “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. And I should have my emotions under control by now.”

“You don’t need to apologize,��� Archie said. “And like, if you want to talk about it - or not! Like, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, so if you don’t want me to know then that’s fine too. But like, if you do want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

“Hah,” Maxie tried to light his cigarette again, and this time his hands were steady enough.

“Hey Max?”

“Hmm?”

“So uh,” Archie was fidgeting his hands, which was actually kinda cute. “I don’t know what I did, and I don’t wanna pressure you, and like, you don’t have to tell me, like I said. But, uh… could you let me know what I did to set you off so I don’t do it again? Like, you don’t have to! If that crosses some line or something then whatever, I won’t bother you about it. I just don’t want to do whatever I did again -“

“Shut up,” Maxie said. His tone was playful, which helped lighten the moment. “Besides, it wasn’t anything you did or said. You just happened to be pestering me when I wanted - needed - time to cool off.”

“Oh!” Archie said. “Oh, that’s good. ‘Cause no offence Max, but you’re scary when you’re angry.”

Maxie laughed, which was something he hardly did. He had noticed that he started to do that when Archie was around.

“You think I’m bad, you shoulda met my dad. He was like an actual volcano.”

They both laughed at that one. “Hey, you never mention your family. Is everything okay with them?”

Well, that ruined the moment. Maxie’s family was… honestly horrible. They were super religious, like everyone out west. Everything was fine and perfect…. Until Maxie realized he was gay. And when his family learnt?

His father was furious. Basically any time he would lay eyes on Maxie he would get beaten. His siblings ignored him, as though associating with him would somehow bring their father’s rage upon them as well.

And his mother. Constantly yelling at him and crying, wondering what she did wrong for him to end up like this.

He went to church once after it got out. Everyone was staring at him and whispering, and he swears the priest chose the sermon just to hurt him personally.

Maxie had tried so hard. His family were geologists, so he got a job and saved up for school. He got his degree, and came back, hoping that that would be enough for them to see how wrong they were.

Turns out he was the one who was wrong. They didn’t care about that. They didn’t even want him to have the family name. So, Maxie moved out east and started designing fashion. Something he had wanted to do his whole life. Something to make him happy.

And he was. Those few years he had spent here, making a name for himself, building his company, those were great years. He had almost forgotten about his family.

Until now.

“Max?”

Maxie snapped out of his thoughts. He heard the bus coming, and put out his cigarette. His dad smoked….

That would be Maxie’s last one, he thought. He pulled out the pack the tossed them into the bin as the bus stopped, “Let’s go,” he said, and Archie followed behind him.

————

“Hey, Max!”

Maxie groaned, and flipped over in bed.

Knock knock!

“Maxie!”

Well, he was up now. And probably half of his neighbours, too.

The knocking continued as Maxie got out of bed and into a robe and slippers before opening the door to his flat. He regretted ever giving that man his address.

“What the hell Archie? It’s Saturday, let me sleep in.”

Archie walked past Maxie like he owned the place and started the kettle for coffee and tea. “Not today, friendo!”

“Friendo?” Maxie asked as he closed the door and shuffled to the counter. He didn’t have his glasses on, so he was just watching a shape walk around his kitchen opening and closing cupboards and drawers.

“Don’t you know what today is?”

“Saturday,” Maxie said in the most deadpan voice he could muster. “Our day off. A day to sleep in.”

Maxie heard Archie crack some eggs into a pan and decided he’d like to see what Archie was up to, so he shuffled back to his room to get his glasses.

By the time he got back Archie was just placing two plates with delicious looking omelettes on them onto the counter. Beside the plates were two steaming mugs.

Maxie sat down and grabbed a fork. “Okay, you’re buttering me up for something. What is it? Do you need a day off or something?”
“What? No!” Archie said as he put the frying pan into the sink and came to sit down. “But out of curiosity would you have given it to me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” Maxie said through a mouthful of eggs. “In exchange for breakfast every Monday. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Used to help my mom,” Archie said after swallowing a huge mouthful. “Speaking of families-“

Maxie shot a glare at Archie. He hadn’t told Archie anything, but they had always avoided the subject after that day.

“Hey, just hear me out, okay? I know that you’re not all that close with your family-“

“Understatement,” Maxie cut in.

“But you know, today is father’s day and my father’s coming to town and I thought you could join us,” Archie finished in a rush.

…

“Why would I want to do that?” Maxie asked.

“Well, since you aren’t going to see your dad today,” Archie said.

“I don’t want to see my dad,” Maxie said, stabbing his fork a little too strongly into his eggs.

Archie sighed. “Okay look, when I left home things were a little rocky. I haven’t seen my dad in person since then, and… I could really use a friend.”

“Oh,” Maxie said. He really wasn’t expecting that.

Was it weird to go with Archie? He’d have to spend the whole day with them. And if today turned out like that day at the restaurant….

“I don’t know, Archie…”

“Pleeeeaaaassseeeee?” Archie gave that puppy dog face that he knew worked so well on Maxie. “I’ll owe you one!”

Maxie sighed. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else planned today. “Where would we be going?”

———

“Hey dad!”

“Archie!” Archie’s father was a big man, which was saying something since Archie was pretty big himself. In height he was an inch or so taller, and if Archie looked like he worked out this man looked like he lived in a gym.

Archie’s father picked him up in a huge hug. “Are you eating okay, son? Doing enough hard work?”

Archie laughed. “I’m eating fine. How’s mom?”

“She’s great, and sends her regards.”

That was the moment that Archie suddenly remembered Maxie existed and dragged his father towards him. “Dad, this is Maxie! He’s the designer that I told you about.”

“Well, nice to meet you Maxie!” Archie’s father grabbed his hand in a strong handshake.

“Nice to meet you too,” Maxie said at his most professional. “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

“Haha, that I have!” he said, throwing an arm over Maxie’s shoulder. “But he ain’t perfect, you know. Has he told you about the time that he -“

“Okay dad! I’m sure Maxie doesn’t wanna hear about any of that!” Archie cut in grabbing his dad by the arm and pulling him away.

“Oh, quite the contrary,” Maxie said with a smirk. “I would love to hear all the embarrassing stories from your youth.”

Archie’s face flushed for the first time that Maxie could recall, and his father laughed. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

————

“Are you sure you have to leave tonight? There’s loads more I haven’t shown you,” Archie said as he gave his dad a goodbye hug.

“Eh, you know I can’t delay this shipment. But mark my words, I’ll be back. And you had better show me that chilli place next time! I’ve heard great things!”

Maxie smiled as he watched them say their goodbyes from the end of the dock. The day had gone wonderfully, and Maxie wished he could have more days like that. Archie turned out to be a lot of fun when he had a whole day to plan for. And his father was great, too.

Maxie’s smile faltered for a second as he thought about his dad.

Nope. He wasn’t about to let that man ruin a wonderful day.

Archie came back after seeing his dad off. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be!” Archie said.

They started walking back towards town. “No, it was quite pleasant. I guess you didn’t need me after all,” Maxie said.

“But it was way more fun with you there,” Archie said with a smile. “Even if my dad kept trying to tell you embarrassing stories about me.”

Maxie laughed. “Did you really try to grab a carvanha by the tail!?”

“Yeah, it really showed me!” Archie laughed. “Still got the scar to prove it! You gotta be looking for it though, here.”

Archie stopped and pointed to a spot on his face right between his eyes. Sure enough, Maxie saw a small, x shaped scar. “Woah. You’re pretty lucky. That could have been your eye,” Maxie said.

“Nah, my eyes are too beautiful, the universe would never allow that!” Archie laughed, but it made Maxie look at his eyes closer than he normally would.

They were a deep blue like the ocean. The bluest blue he’d ever seen in someone’s eyes before. They were… really pretty. Not that it mattered. Why should he care?

Maxie laughed along. “Don’t tempt the universe, Archie.”

————

It was a week until the show. A week until the deadline. One more week.

Maxie was freaking out. This was his first time in one of these shows, and this could very well make or break his career. And he only had one week to finish this last outfit.

“Calm down, Max,” Archie said as Maxie pocked him with a needle for the hundredth time that day.

“I can’t calm down! The show’s in a week, Archie!”

“You’re pretty much done. I’ve seen you finish a project this big in a single day before. You’ll be fine,” Archie said, trying to comfort the crazed fashion designer.

“It can’t just be fine, it has to be brilliant! Amazing! Extraordinary!”

Another stab.

“Okay, enough,” Archie said as he grabbed Maxie’s wrist.

“What are you doing? It’s not done yet!”

“No, but you are,” Archie said as he dragged Maxie to the couch.

“I absolutely am not! Let go of me!”

“Nope,” Archie said as he flopped down onto the sofa, pulling Maxie down to sit beside him. Archie grabbed a book and awkwardly opened it with one hand, then flipped to the page he had stopped at last time, all without letting go of Maxie’s wrist.

It took Maxie a moment to realize that Archie was, in fact, not going to let him go. He tried to pull away, but no matter what he did he couldn’t overpower Archie. “This is ridiculous! Let me go!”

“You’re too stressed, you can’t work like that. You’ll end up making mistakes.”

Archie wasn’t wrong, but with only a week left Maxie didn’t have the time to spare.

“Archie!”

Archie groaned and closed his book. He couldn’t read with all this noise. “How about dinner? When was the last time you ate?”

Maxie thought about it, but before he could remember Archie cut him off, pointing out that if it took him that long to think about it, it was too long ago.

“I am not going out like this,” Maxie stated. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkly and with a few tea stains. It almost looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Or gone home.

“Do you even have food at your house? Fresh food?”

“I don’t- no, probably not. I’ve been busy,” Maxie said defensively.

“Okay then, my house it is,” Archie said, finally letting go of Maxie’s wrist. “I live just down the street, so we can walk if you want.”

“What ar- but we have to finish!”

“Maxie, c’mon. You’ll feel better after you eat and sleep.”

Maxie couldn’t counter that.

————

Maxie was half asleep on the couch when Archie placed a plate full of food on the coffee table in front of him. “Oh, thank you,” he said, giving himself a stretch before grabbing the fork.

“No problem,” Archie said and sat next to him. He put a bottle of wine on the table, and poured them each a glass.

“Wine, really? Are we on a date or something?” Maxie asked sarcastically. Of course, that just put the idea of a real date with Archie in his head, and he quickly had to erase that.

“I always have wine with dinner,” Archie said. “My mom used to say it was healthy to have a glass a day.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” Maxie said after he had taken a sip. “This is quite nice. Better than anything we ever got out west.”

Once they were done their dinner, they continued to chat and drink for hours. The sun slowly set, and eventually Maxie noticed the time.

“I should probably go now, before the last bus goes by,” Maxie said without even attempting to get up. He was super comfy leaning against the couch and chatting with Archie.

“Nah man, stay here tonight. Who knows what kind of weirdos take the last bus of the night,” Archie pointed out as he refilled Maxie’s glass.

“True,” Maxie agreed. “It would be absolutely horrible if I were to be killed the week before the show. All that work would be for nothing.”

Archie laughed, which brought a smile to Maxie’s face. “Well, at least you got to know me!” Archie teased.

“And I wouldn’t change that for the world,” Maxie agreed.

“Awwww, that’s cute,” Archie said, leaning closer to Maxie and batting his eyelashes.

“Hmmm. Tell anyone I said that and I’ll kill you,” Maxie countered and finished off his glass.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” Archie said with a laugh. “You’d miss me too much!”

“Maybe,” Maxie agreed.

They were both laughing now. Archie laughed a little too hard and spilled some of his wine on Maxie’s pants.

“Oh man! Sorry, I guess I was leaning too far forward,” he said as he looked around for something to wipe it up with.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Maxie said, and waved his hand in dismissal. “This entire outfit needs to be thrown out when this week is over. One extra stain isn’t important. Now, if this was the show outfit….”

Archie laughed again. “Yeah, you’d probably kill me for real then.”

A few minutes passed where Maxie just stared off into space. When Archie asked him what he was thinking about, he could honestly say “I don’t know.”

“I think,” Maxie started, then lost his train of thought.

“What do you think?” Archie asked.

Maxie looked into those far too blue eyes and felt himself melt away. “I think… I’m drunk. And you should let me sleep in in the morning, or you’ll have to deal with a very tired, hungover Maxie.”

Archie laughed at that. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll get you a blanket,” Archie said as he got up and headed into another room.

Maxie lied down and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the city outside. He was almost asleep when Archie came back.

“C’mon, get up. You need a pillow or you’re gonna have a sore neck tomorrow.” He was right of course, but Maxie still groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position.

The blanket Archie gave him was soft, and Maxie was curled up and ready for sleep before Archie was done turning off the lamps.

“Hey, Max?”

“Hmmm?”

“How drunk are you? Like, are you gonna remember that I spilled wine on you in the morning?”

“You spilled wine on me?” Maxie asked. Oh yeah, he remembered now. He was too tired to care, though.

“Maxie?”

“Hmmm?”

Maxie felt a hand on his face, so he opened his eyes. The moon was bright out, so Maxie could see every feature on Archie’s concerned face. “I’m fine,” Maxie said, even though Archie hadn’t asked.

He was staring. He knew he was. But Archie was staring right back, and Maxie couldn’t bring himself to care that he would have probably looked away had he been awake and sober.

Then, Archie leaned down and brushed his lips against Maxie’s. That snapped him out of his half-asleep, tipsy state. His hand shot out and grabbed Archie’s arm. “Archie?”

And Archie leaned down and kissed him. Maxie’s head was spinning, his heart was racing, but he was kissing back. Archie was kissing him, and he was kissing back.

He had pushed this thought from his head countless times, as though refusing to imagine this it would somehow make it easier to pretend he had no feelings for Archie. And it was working, but now?

Maxie knew he could never go back now.

Archie pulled away with an awkward cough. “Well, uh, goodnight,” he said, and walked away to his room.

Maxie stared at the ceiling in shock. “What just happened?” He lightly traced his lips with his hand. He didn’t have much time to think about it as he quickly fell asleep, but the butterflies in his stomach stayed even in his dreams.

————

Maxie woke to the smell of tomatoes and the sound of chopping. The sun was already high in the sky as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Then Maxie remembered where he was, and what happened last night. Did it happen, though? Or was it Maxie’s imagination and subconscious mixing with his tipsy, sleep deprived brain?

Maxie got up and folded the blanket before heading towards the kitchen. His mind was furiously sorting things he remembered, determining what was real and what was dreamt.

“Good morning,” Maxie said with a yawn.

“Good morning!” Archie said, but only gave Maxie a glance.

Oh, so it was real. Was that going to make things awkward now? There was less than a week until the show, Maxie couldn’t have his model acting weird, or worse, quitting.

Maxie shook that thought from his head. That was a load of bull. Maxie didn’t want to loose Archie, period. As a model, as a friends, or as… something else. So he decided to dive right in.

“So, that kiss last night?” Maxie started. Archie instantly froze. There was an awkward silence. Maxie half expected Archie to deny it, or to turn around and laugh it off. Not silence, though. That was so unlike him.

“What was all that about?” Maxie asked.

Archie slowly put the knife down and grabbed the counter, but still didn’t say anything.

“Archie?”

Nothing.

Maxie got up and walked to his side, but Archie turned his head to avoid eye contact.

“Come on, you can’t just pretend I’m not here. What are you, a child?”

“No, I just…”

“There we go! Words! Isn’t that better?” Maxie teased, then instantly regretted it. That was so lame, why did he say that? Why was he so bad with these types of situations? “Sorry, that was stupid.”

“No, I was,” Archie said. “Look, I’m sorry. I thought you were drunk and wouldn’t remember, and I know that that’s not okay anyway, and I should never have done that, and you are probably super mad at me and that’s fine! That’s absolutely okay, because I deserve it! I just, I don’t even know what came over me. You’re such a good friend and I really don’t want to loose that just because I was stupid. I mean, just because I like you doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? I’ll get over it eventually. We could just pretend that never happened-”

Archie kept going, but Maxie didn’t hear him.

Did Archie just admit to liking him? But that didn’t make sense, Archie wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. In the few months they had known each other he had probably pointed out a hundred “hot” girls to him.

And yet Archie was still rambling. He should… probably stop him.

Maxie grabbed Archie’s arm. “Archie.”

Archie kept going, slightly louder now, as though he was afraid of what Maxie would say.

“Archie. Archie. Hey, stop that. Archie!”

With a big inhale Archie finally stopped. He was staring down at the cutting board, his hands balled into fists. “Look at me.” He didn’t move. “Archie, look at me.” Archie shook his head.

Maxie grabbed his face and turned it towards himself. Archie kept his eyes closed. Which was fine, considering how nervous Maxie was. It was nice knowing that Archie was just as nervous, if not more.

This time Maxie leaned in for the kiss. He could feel Archie tense up for a moment. Maxie wrapped one arm around Archie’s neck and pulled him closer. Archie hesitantly put his hands on Maxie’s hips.

When they finally pulled away and made eye contact they sort of shuffled away, but didn’t let go of each other.

“So, uh…?”

“It was absolutely not cool to have kissed me when I was drunk like that,” Maxie stated.

“Oh.” Archie’s arms dropped away and he tried to dislodge himself from Maxie. But Maxie wasn’t having any of that.

“Our first kiss should have been after a brilliant date, like it’s supposed to be. It’s going to be quite difficult for you to make that up to me.”

That stopped Archie altogether, and he just stared at Maxie as his brain tried to process what just happened. Maxie smiled when Archie finally laughed. The tension was broken.

“Whatever you’re making for breakfast had better be amazing,” Maxie said as he headed towards the washroom.

“I’ll make you amazing breakfasts every day if you want,” Archie called back.

Maxie smiled as he closed the door behind him.

————

“Are you sure I look okay?” Archie asked for the twentieth time that minute.

“Archie, you look beautiful, stop asking,” Maxie said as he circled the two models. This was it, show time.

“You’ll do fine,” Courtney said, grabbing his hand.

Archie quickly glanced at Maxie, who was looking at their hands intertwined together before shaking it off and continuing his inspection. Archie wasn’t sure if Maxie was the jealous type or not, and now would not be a good time to figure it out.

“Uh,” Archie shook his hand out of Courtney’s grip. “Thanks.”

The announcer announced the next designer, and a stage manager came rushing towards them. “You’re on next. Ma’am, you’ll start on the other side of the stage.

“Okay,” Courtney said, but Maxie grabbed her before she could leave.

“Okay, this is over a year of work we’re showing off, so I want you two to really blow them away for me, okay?” He grabbed their hands and put them together, giving Archie a meaningful look. ‘It’s okay, go all out.’

“We won’t disappoint you,” Courtney said.

“Courtney!” Tabitha was frantically waving from the other side of the stage.

Maxie gave her hand one more squeeze before she ran off to join Tabitha. Maxie and Archie headed towards their side of the stage. “You’ll do great,” Maxie whispered.

“Thanks! This isn’t like my normal roles,” Archie admitted.

Maxie glanced around to make sure no one was near, then pulled Archie down for a quick kiss. “I know you’ll do great.”

“And next up is Maxie from Lavaridge!”

————

They were all sitting in the waiting room of Maxie’s studio, eating cake, drinking, and laughing. “Third place isn’t bad considering it was my first time,” Maxie pointed out.

“It’s absolutely unheard of!” Tabitha mocked one of the older ladies that had attended.

“Pffff, that lady’s never met Max before!” Archie said, throwing his arm around Maxie and leaning in. Maxie lightly pushed him off, glancing at the other two.

“Okay okay,” Tabitha said, noticing. Maxie had a mini panic attack as he ran through his history with Tabitha to try and find any moment that would tell him if Tabitha would be okay with this or not.

“Courtney and I had a bet,” he said, gesturing to a nodding Courtney and himself. “About whether or not you two would get together.”

Maxie felt his face heat up. Suddenly Archie’s arm (which he hadn’t been able to push off of his shoulders) made him feel claustrophobic. The room was spinning, and not just from the alcohol. Tabitha was one of Maxie’s only friends, if he didn’t -

“Who bet what?” Archie asked, leaning forward.

“I bet,” Courtney started, “that you two were going to end up together before the show.”

“There’s no way,” Tabitha stated. “Maxie’d drop hints ‘till the end of time and never go for it, and Archie’s not smart enough to pick up the hints - uh, no offence.”

“None taken!” Archie laughed. “I definitely didn’t pick up any hints, at least not consciously.”

“I didn’t drop hints! I don’t do that!” Maxie said in exasperation.

“So I was right?” Courtney asked.

“What do you get for winning?” Archie asked.

Tabitha sighed and pulled out his wallet. It took Maxie a moment to realize what was happening.

“You two are actually horrible,” Maxie joked.

“Well hey, now that they know, I can do this,” Archie said, and dived to rub his beard against Maxie’s neck. Maxie jumped back and tried to push him away through his laughter.

————

“Hey Max.”

“Hmmm?”

Archie sat on the corner of Maxie’s desk, which was, for once, pretty clean. “Whatcha doing?”

“Looking at this paperwork. Are we 100% sure we want to move here? Because once we do we’re stuck for a few years.”

“I’m sure if you are,” Archie said. “I’m happy wherever you are.”

Maxie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Cheesy.”

“And if we do move, I’ve already found you a commission,” Archie pointed out.

“Okay, you’ve got my interest. Continue,” Maxie said, sitting back and folding his arms.

“The Sootopolis theatre needs costumes for its next show, and I showed them some of the stuff you made. They’re really interested, and they pay well.”

“Well, you got me,” Maxie said. He signed the papers and passed the to Archie. “Mail these next time you go out?”

“Will do!” Archie said.

Later that night, when they were in bed and Archie was softly snoring with Maxie in his arms, Maxie opened his eyes and looked out at the moon through his window.

If only his family could see him now, he thought with bitter confidence. He was successful, he was well known, he was dating the most handsome man in all of Hoenn, and that man also happened to be an upcoming star.

Maxie’s life ended way better than he would have ever imagined all those years ago.

[ceejay1163]

The Teal* Bronco (*Turquoise)

First off I want to tag the amazing @aquadolan whose hilariously accurate reaction videos make me laugh cry every time I see them and makes me feel like we are experiencing the video together and having a laugh like a couple of mates despite being in opposite sides of the world.

Now for my reactions to 'Tricking my brother into thinking his car was flipped'

The ring mmhmmm just yes

The clapping tho? Not about it

Ethan has a shorter attention span then me and that's impressive

I did not pick the boys to like roller skating although they ice skate so it makes sense

Little bitch haha

I like the jumper. It looks fuzzy and cozy

How long did this take to plan? Honestly it seems like it would be taken forever

Roasting the matchingness to the car

He seems to actually be jealous that Gray's favourite car isn't the one he bought. That's adorable. Fuck I'm not even 2 mins into the video

And now the car is broken

Wait did I fuck up? Am I recording?

The gum Ethan. Eww for fuck sake mate don't be a pig.

'I have really bad attentional problems' yeah.. your English might need some work too

When's the last time I ate? -literally something I say most days

Roast him for dropping out of school and not remembering common phrases and sayings

Why do all Ethans pranks involve Graysons cars?

Also not wanting to say what time you wake up. Same

Laughing at yourself

I'm cool, I'm cool actually no I'm not

Groggy or drunk?

Slap. Pain kink anyone?

That damn projector

Air quotes

Did anyone understand the car mumbo jumbo? Like at all? Did anyone care?

Good job keeping a straight face Ethan. He won't suspect a thing.

Fun-ny

Why do boys turn everything into challenges? My nephews do it all the time

Full actor mode

Too many words in Google mate. Google doesn't care why you need a Photoshop artist

More air quotes. Except out of sync.

It's just a prank bro.

Bitter he can't go skating. Poor bubba

Morning voice half an octave lower. Yes please

Groaning. Thank you

I always end up falling asleep at least twice after waking up the first time before getting up. V relatable

Him jumping into bed to pretend to be asleep reminds me of being a kid and bolting through the house in the middle of the night after getting up to get a drink or something, trying to avoid monsters or waking up the parents

Jumpers with shorts?

He's got slippers. Awww

Realising a flaw in his plan when the car doesn't work.

Too many cars in the driveway

CRINGEY PHOTOS. WOO.

Fucking drama queen

That stupid photoshopped photo

Real us. Not actor mode us haha

Mr Dolan 😏

Doesn't analyze it too much. Good idea

He has such bloke-ish child like writing

The calf tattoo 🥺

Socks and slides Grayson? That's almost as bad as socks and sandals. Fucking hell

Love a man in light grey sweats

Run Ethan go back to bed. You're so grounded (idk)

He pulled Ethans hip so hard. Jesus

What is that bike thingy in the background?

WHO DOESN'T LOCK THEIR FUCKING CAR??? YOU FUCKING IMBECILE

Now Gray let's put on our big boy thinking caps. It's not Ethans fault. Entirely. You also didn't lock the fucking car

Booty 👀

Not knowing if you have insurance. Mate you should look into that. (Also a very me thing to not know)

Gray is loosing it. Like actually looks like he's gonna do the frustrated crying thing

"That's not chill you need to fix that." Pretty sure sleeping is pretty chill. Also how does one fix being a heavy sleeper (other then by having kids)

"You need to be able to wake up in the morning and get shit done" no need to call me out like that

Let me call the *mumble mumble mumble*

It's fucking turquoise- whelp fuck have to change the title

Who steals a turquoise car at 9am? He's loosing it

Awe he doesn't want people to get hurt. Cutie

Seriously why hasn't he called the police yet? When I got home from my nanas funeral to find my house broken into the first thing I did was call the cops. And then cry cos it was like 10pm and I'd just driven like 12 hrs so I was hella tired

He's V loud. And then V quiet.

You motherfucker. Ok rude but understandable

That sigh of relief and the laughter

All of the adrenaline just left Gray immediately. Also hiding under a blankie? adorable

"Where did you put it?" Immediately forgets haha

Did you ruin it and turn it pink or something? You're getting a rep E and why does Gray assume it would be painted pink?

The sound effect over Gray pulling up his pants to hide his plumbers crack 😂

You need to rub it out. I mean ok sure

"I kinked up bro" just why 😂

Slap. SPINNING. It's a theme park ride

You stole my car- Dude where's my car movie anyone?

Car upside down you say? Forshadowing

Grayson gives up on life.

Nope never mind he's dramatically throwing himself onto the bed and screaming into the blankets like a teenage girl

Also booty

FROG

Don't dance Grayson

It's all in the puff bro

Mr Dillon, not Dolan, Dillion

Grayson has left the building look

Nose boop

The eye movement. Wait you what?

Beard pulling

Give me the phone. No you are having the phone. Ok fine.

Intense eye contact for real tho

That dumbass look on his face. Grayson is shooketh to hell

Do they even understand any of this car mumbo jumbo? Does it even make any sense?

I don't know shit about insurance. Seriously dude that's not smart

MY CAR

That's not chill bro that's not chill at all. Putting them on a ban for the words chill and bro. More to be added. They use those words more then I use the word mate and that's impressive

I'm taking the phone and subtly suggesting human error (negligence) and a potential law suit

Oh you have footage? Talk to my older brother

I don't know much about cars. Dude

More stupid looks from Gray

I don't wanna see it

More screaming

More yelling Grayson

We can move your car but it's gonna cost you more money

Not falling for that pic

Just put it on the next one. Gray it's not a fucking bus. There's no schedule to have the next one come out. Use your head darlin'

More yelling in the car and swearing

How did he organise the street thing? Like actually.

Also surely it's illegal to pretend to have roadworks and fuck up traffic

VROOM. You go lil blue car

BULGE 👀 this is when I stopped paying attention the first time I watched it.

What is the camera guy (kyle?) wearing? Who said that be one were allowed to be a thing again? I'm not impressed

Grayson is v frustrated

DON'T LITTER

Neither of you should be allowed to dance. Its not good

That's the wrong question to ask about the camera guy's clothes

Fist clap

Wait where's the car? Is it safe? Poor Gray his brain is malfunctioning

Camera goes to Grayson. Ooh look bulge. Pans away. Move back ooh bulge.

If they keep upping the ante someone's gonna get hurt

I don't know what's inside of me. Never a good thing to say

Still allergic to dogs 🥺

HOLY SHIT THAT HAPPENED

I haven't heard you scream that much for that long 👀

Grayson's pretty loud. I would like to test that. Please and thank you.

Deep breathing

SOOOO HARD. (I volunteer)

I am going to prank the actual s out of Ethan. Really taking the not swearing thing seriously huh

Sure whatever you say. He doesn't believe you'll get him back Gray. Kick his ass

Bruh

Eric deserves a medal for his phone acting. Well done faceless dude named Eric

I give up. I give up on everything. If that's not a fucking mood

Double bitched sounds like it should mean something else. Just saying

Boob caress

My guard's up. No your guard can't be up. Pretty sure that's not how it works Grayson

Just don't hurt me. Grayson is so not listening to him. He's still mad

No rules

It was fake There's no rules

Ethan being hurt Gray doesn't love his present

Still mad.

Rubs sweat all over comfy jumper. Childish

HE STILL LOOKS FUCKING LIVID.

Alrighty take three of finishing this thing. Tumblr crashed yesterday after I spent like 2 hours writing this and deleted half my comments. I couldn't finish it then cos it was almost 2am and I had work today so I redid it from like the 20 minute mark of the video. Then I saved it to my drafts And published it but it deleted the last like 5 minutes of comments so I had to redo them again. Here's hoping Tumblr sorts it's shit out cos it's late and I have work again tomorrow. 🐨

[dork-in-a-trenchcoat]

((Pulled from a very old relationship prompt because this was fun to do back in the day on Sev’s blog, so might as well do Casip because SOMEONE mentioned yesterday that she had been going back to re-read old Casip and I guess it’s about time to post something new.))

It bounces around a lot in timeline, but eeeehhhhhhh it’s fine. Only like 3 people don’t scroll past the Casip stuff anyway X’DDD There are probably typos.

Attack hugging them

Whether by nature of his patience, or by nature of his significant other’s impatience, Castiel was usually slow moving in comparison to greet his Mate after a long absence. His was the quiet embrace from behind. The hand gently tracing hair back from her face when she slept. Quite the opposite, and quite literally, this evening Flip had gotten the jump on him, leaping against his chest with all the grace of a stampeding linebacker down a staircase.

“If either of us were Human, we would need the emergency room after that.” he grunted, easing an elbow away from his Vessel’s groin.

--------

Falling asleep on or next to them

"I’m not tired.” Flip had protested.

“You are.” Castiel replied patiently.

They didn’t have many moments together. It seemed always that the Earth was on the brink of destruction, or the slumbering Humans of the world needed tending. Schedules being what they were, spare quality time was precious, though currently Flip was far too exhausted to indulge in it. Defeated, she curled into a ball on his chest, resting under the blanket of his massive (to her at least), warm hand. Castiel typically did not require sleep, but he was content to rest in a meditative state until such time that she would wake.

----------

Giving them the best back massage they’ve ever had

Though he’d repeatedly insisted that his muscles refreshed themselves constantly through use of his Grace, arguing with the Fairy was often a fruitless endeavor. Her stubbornness was deep and encompassing as the sea. With an overly dramatic eye roll, he finally shed his trenchcoat and jacket to sit backwards in a dining chair. Arms rested on the chair top, chin rested on arms. He could hear a faint jingling as she phased herself up and bespelled her hands for warmth.

Slowly, steady pressure worked its way across his upper back, across his shoulders, and along a tight section of muscles in the base of his wings. Completely involuntary, he groaned into his arms. He’d only ever seen the idea of massages as a means to an end for muscle therapy. They felt like this all along??? Why had it taken him so long to allow one? Her expert fingers worked and kneaded and molded him like warm putty, melting to jelly.

“Enjoying yourself?” Flip inquired rhetorically.

“Very much so~” Cas mumbled in hopes that this feeling could continue for quite a long time.

When she eased a soft vibration spell through her fingers, it was reasonably safe to assume that he was enjoying himself so thoroughly that in that moment she could have talked him into almost anything.

---------

Holding their hand for the first time

It had only been meant as a signal. Whilst posing as an unassuming pair in a coffee shop, Flip was brightly looking around as Castiel pretended to read a menu. When the necromancer revealed themselves in their habitual caffeine run, Castiel felt Flip’s cool fingers slide over his own under the table, gently squeezing to let him know the target had arrived. At first, he hadn’t recognized it as the signal. They were not yet involved as more than friends at this point, but it was familiar in a way which didn’t make sense, and comforting in a way it should not be.

“Thank you for the assist.” Cas had whispered awkwardly.

“Less bad Dreams triggered by that goon means less work for me, so trust me when I say it’s not a problem.” Flip whispered back.

---------

Hugging them from behind when they weren’t expecting it

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Cas struggled to explain.

“Then you shouldn’t have said it that way.” Flip quipped, angrily picking up the broken shards from the angelic liquor bottle she’d trod upon and crushed. “If you have to be drunk off your ass to tolerate spending the night, then why the hell are you even here?”

His head spun frantically, both from the alcohol and from panic. He hadn’t expected her to arrive back so soon. Everything was meant to be cleaned up and then he could just remain in a slightly tipsy stupor for a while. The truth was, things with the Winchesters were going haywire. Between tense attitudes with Jack joining the fold, complications with alternate universes, and the uphill struggles with his own depression, he’d only wanted to dull the upsetting thoughts buzzing in his mind so that they could enjoy each other’s company. But he’d worded it so poorly. 

“I’m sorry. I was... trying to even out my mood. Everything has been remarkably stressful lately and I didn’t want to take out these frustrations on you. Angelic liquor has a calming effect on me. You’ve seen this. But I took it to excess, and I am sorry.” he unsteadily moved to the door. “I will go. I’m... I will go.”

Flip narrowed her eyes, watching him brace against the wall. It wasn’t particularly safe for him to wander out in that condition, regardless of whether or not she was angry with him. Castiel had the tendency to be thoughtless in the way he expressed himself from time to time, but it was rare that his intention was to be truly mean. If this was his poor attempt to avoid emptying frustrations onto their evening... then his Heart had been in the right place, even if his words had not.

When he felt her arms circle his middle, softly holding him in place, Castiel swallowed heavily and apologized once more.

“Next time we’ll make a drinking game of it, if you need it.” Flip whispered. “I don’t want to see you getting wobbly by yourself again, especially if your mood is south of sunny by this much.”

--------------

Hugging them way too tightly

“Hggn… Flippitn, please…” Cas wheezed. “My ribs are susceptible to breaks now.”

His injuries were minor as compared to many of the other patrons from the city’s commuter bus. The walk from Flip’s hideout to the Gas N Sip where he endured employment as a Human was not far, but the outlet mall he needed to visit was too far to walk to that day. Being that he needed to purchase a set of skid-proof shoes per his employer’s new uniform requirements, there was really no other option. How unfortunate that the bus driver was working his seventh double-shift in a row. The old man had fallen asleep at the wheel, and capsized the bus over the highway median.

Paramedics had swarmed the scene, going through the motions of onsite triage to discern who required the most immediate of attention. Castiel managed to heave several people out of the bus windows down to the people who were waiting on the ground.

By the time his minor head wound was being addressed, a woman with eyes just a little too bright to look natural had been seen pushing her way through the throng of people blocking civilians. He signaled that he would like to allow her near, if only to make sure that she didn’t get into a fight. That woman was now crushing him in a hug, sending a symphony of cracks along his ribs and spine.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to be careful. We think he might have a concussion.” a woman advised.

Flip looked back and waved to someone else. A person with neatly tied dreadlocks as well as the same unnatural eyes, his green rather than blue. Supposedly ‘help’ sent from the emergency room in the next town over. Strangely, each person he checked on seemed completely fine as soon as he touched them, as if by some miracle. Not really so much a miracle as a Healer Sprite. Not that they needed to know that.

“Thanks, Frizz…” Flip whispered. “Cas, you’re still taking off work tomorrow or I will re-concuss you for scaring me.”

---------------

Kissing their forehead or cheek

“You’re not going to get me sick. My immune system is mighty and yours is malnourished Human.” Flip insisted. “And if you don’t let me do it my way, I’m getting a rectal thermometer and you’re gonna have an awkward night.”

Flip was not a Fae of idle threats. As long as Castiel had known the Moon Sprite, she was always prepared to follow through on anything she put to the table. He sighed and dropped his hands.

“Fine.”

He waited as patiently as he could for the tiny woman to flutter up and press her lips to his burning forehead.

“One hundred and three,” she reported. “You HAVE to take a fever reducer because you’re going to risk brain damage if it goes any higher.”

“I don’t care for the taste of it…” he complained.

“Dean was right. You are a baby in a trenchcoat.”

-------------

Kissing their neck

“That is very distracting.” Castiel stated.

To all appearances, he was not at all distracted. He carried on writing down instructions from his online doula class as if his Mate was not tenderly working her mouth over the back of his neck and over the curve of his shoulder.

“I’m trying to determine how much time it takes for contractions to start after the mucus plug falls out. If I don’t scan in my notes before nine, my classmates will shun me in the message board.”

Flip paused in her endeavor to give him a deadpan look.

“You’re a real romantic, ne?” she sighed. “Alright. Do your homework. I’m going to go have a soak.”

“I could join you when I am done…” he called after her. “Perhaps you could pick up your affections then?”

“No, I’m warding the door.” Flip laughed, zooming off.

“Do not ward the door.”

“Nuts to you, I’m warding the doooooooor!”

“Mmph. She’s going to ward the door.” Cas grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes as if complaining to someone else in the room. Perhaps the powers that be.

-------------

Kissing them softly on the lips

“Thank you for the assist.” Castiel acknowledged, tilting the case of German beer in a gesture of gratitude.

As he could no longer fly, having his Mate pop overseas via Portal to retrieve a particular brand of beverage was certainly a boon. It would go over well with the Winchesters to bring something that wasn’t off brand from a gas station. Or so he’d assumed.

“Calling in Fairy favors for booze?” Dean asked dubiously. “What’d you trade for that, Cas, a kindergartener?”

“I did not trade a kindergartener for beer, Dean.” Castiel replied with a huff. “I asked that she pick this up for us after work because she was going to be in Germany anyway. Strangely, if you ask people nicely, they will sometimes comply with your requests.”

“How do you know where she’s working on a given night?” Sam puzzled. “You keep in touch that much? Thought you two were like… frienemies. No offense.”

“I have contacts outside of the two of you.” the Angel grumped. “Some of them are still alive. Some of them don’t hate me.”

Knowing that beer and Bonanza night was strictly a guy thing in the bunker, Flip decided to duck the conversation in favor of having a girl’s night elsewhere with Jilomena and Silt. Even with an adopted Human disguise, she didn’t need any further attention drawn to herself outside of a run-down Waffle House.

“Some of them have places to be.” Flip hemmed.

She tipped a finger under Castiel’s chin and softly pressed her lips to his. She then waved farewell before vanishing quite suddenly. Heaven help him.

“Cas... you bangin’ a Fairy?” Dean sputtered.

“The beer is getting warm, Dean. We should go.” Cas evaded, sliding the box into the back seat of the Impala.

“Cas,” Dean insisted. “Cas, what the hell?! When were you gonna tell us that you were off gettin’ a bowl of Lucky Charms in your downtime?!”

“Do you talk about every transient woman you’ve bedded?”

“YES.” Dean slapped a hand on the bumper. “That’s what men DO, we kiss and tell! Tell me about NeverNeverLand!”

For a long moment, Castiel stared from Dean… to Sam… to Dean again.

“Well, I’m not a man. I’m an Angel.” he said finally. He snapped the car door closed and buckled his seatbelt. “And I’m not telling.”

------------

Playfully whacking them with a pillow

“What was that for?” Castiel frowned.

“Don’t worry about it. Continue.” Flip levitated the pillow up off of the floor and resumed her relaxed perch on the back of the couch.

“Um… I was saying that my excuse for being moody was that… I just need a win. I’ve spent so much time consistently screwing things up. The Winchesters have lost faith in me. I am tired of being a disappointment. If-“ PAP! “Nnnnn. You did it again.”

“Did what?” Flip prompted.

“You hit me with a pillow.”

“I did not. I enchanted a pillow to whap you every time you needlessly speak negatively about yourself.” she corrected. “Care to try again?”

Castiel grumbled, but cleared his throat.

“I need to reassure the others that I can be useful again-“ PAP! “I need to fail less.” PAP! “…I am frustrated with the way events have unfolded, and I would like to take steps to improve the situations I’m facing, as best I’m able.”

…No pillow. Flip scooted over and lightly bonked her tiny head against his stubbled cheek.

“As an aside, you can truly be a pest when you’re trying to prove a point.” Castiel mumbled affectionately.

WHAP.

“I didn’t say anything bad about myself.” Cas protested.

“No, that wasn’t the enchantment, that was all me. My whap. How dare you.”

------------

Sneaking up behind them and blowing a raspberry on their neck

“Not yet. The locals seem reluctant to discuss details of the curses associated with the folklore of-“

Pppfffffffhhhhhhhh!

Castiel winced his shoulder up hard with a soft snort. He waved the Fairy away with a shooing motion. She’d have to wait her turn for attention.

“Wh-? No. No, Dean, I did not flatulate in the middle of our call. Someone blew against my neck. It is not of import.” he rolled his eyes up and sighed, handing over the phone. “Dean wants to say hello.”

“Hallo, Dean!” Flip peeped into the receiver.

I knew it! the voice over the phone crowed, followed by some muted words that Castiel could not quite pick up.

“Ah? What about NeverNeverLand?” Flip questioned.

“DO NOT!” Cas interrupted.

----------

Surprise kissing them

(Excerpt from “The Drawing Game”, pre Casip)

“FLIP.” Castiel stated flatly, pushing up to prop one arm over her torso to discourage rolling away. “Did you draw a posterior wearing refined attire on my face?”

“It sounds like something I would do.” she nodded thoughtfully.

“…Why?”

“Why not?” she countered.

Before Castiel could lay out a list of obvious reasons not to draw an ass over someone’s face, Flip tilted up and pecked a tiny kiss to his nose. Eyes wide, Cas pressed himself up and shuffled back away from her in complete alarm. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish pulled from water as his brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Obviously Flip had only done such a thing to shock him. To free herself. He’d seen many such occasions where she relied on surprise to escape various troubles.

“But… but… WHAT…”

“So eloquent. Toodles.” Flip snorted, vanishing away rather than using the door.

Recovery took a moment, but Castiel soon found himself padding into the restroom to scrub the drawing off of his face with one of the rough cloths folded neatly on the sink. Not too difficult to smear out of his faint stubble. He rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bathtub propping one foot on his knee to remove the smiley face and cat drawings as well. Once finished, the other foot was brought up. He squinted at the writing. Enochian. Loosely translated to:

Forgive yourself, my friend.

Castiel slowly lowered his foot back onto the floor without wiping the words away. There was a little heart drawn on the heel that made him wonder if it was a simple embellishment or if maybe an extra sign of affection. He stared at his reflection and touched two fingers to his nose, slightly crossing his eyes to look at a very faint trace of glitter left from her kiss. Had he scrubbed his face too hard, or was that a blush? What a confusing night.

--------

Telling them they love them for the first time

(Excerpt from something I’m not going to post >_>)

“Excuse you???” Flip squeaked, spinning to face him and breaking off the sticking charm.

“You d-deserve to be… loved!” Castiel heaved.

Flip stopped dead and leaned over him, face to face.

“I am loved. People love me. A fair few people love me.” she said seriously. “What’s that got to do with anything, if people love me?”

“I know. I know people love you.” Castiel frowned, breathless. “I’m one of them.”

Flip pulled back fractionally, confusion and panic seizing her Heart. The look in his eyes wasn’t platonic, but neither was it lusty. Castiel had always carried a deep purity to him. But no. She knew that the wisest thing would be to vanish and never come back. Getting overly attached to a mortal always ended poorly for all involved, and whether or not she could find herself caring that way in return was irrelevant.

The silence was suffocating. Still, for whatever reason, Flip did not leave, and Castiel didn’t take back what he said.

(…Jump forward in the story)

He quietly cleared his throat, trying to think of the best way to approach the subject, but Flip kissed the questions away from his lips and pointed up.

Written in soft twinkles above his head were the words

I love you, too.

-----

Tickling them

The last lingering shafts of a Tuesday sunset washed the den in a romantic blush of twilight. Aside from the quiet tick of a grandfather clock, all was silence. When the creak and snap of the front door signaled that Flip had returned from the grocery store with supplies for the week, fully sized up to fake Human proportions. Castiel glanced over his shoulder with a quiet greeting. Lately he had taken to doing impressionist paintings in the evenings after his shifts at the Gas N Sip. It helped keep his mind away from troubling things as he attempted to adjust to Human life.

“That’s a pretty one. Where is it?” Flip rested her chin on his shoulder.

“It’s the Antigua Guatemala Cathedral. It is beautiful when lit up at night.” he replied, eyes soft with memory. “I very much enjoyed visiting it.”

“We could go there. We’ll wait until you get some vacation time in at work, set it up all Human-style.” the Fairy offered.

“I would like that.”

He shifted in place. And then again. Flip tilted her head, wondering if the thought of doing manual travel as opposed to Magical or Celestial made him uncomfortable to come to terms with. Then it became clear that he was trying to cope with an itch.

“Let me.” Flip scoffed, rucking the maroon sweater up and taking her nails to his upper back. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you. I have paint on my hands… new clothes. Ah… little lower, please. Lower. Good.”

“Why didn’t you wear something you could mess up?”

“I didn’t want to mess anything up.” Castiel explained. “The clothes will last longer if I care for them properly and I khhh! Wait!”

Flip rolled her eyes and did not wait. She let her nails dance and slide across his ribs and belly, nuzzling her nose against his neck. He twitched and wiggled against her, choked with quiet laughter as his hands fought the instinct to make a grab for anything lest it stain.

“Flippiti-hin, the PAI-heh-nt!” he squirmed. “Flip!”

“Yes, it’s a lovely painting, we covered that.” Flip nodded, carrying on.

“PleEEase re-f! Refrain! I can’t t-“ he tried again, sinking to the ground to attempt escape, even if logically he knew that she would follow him down. Which, of course she did.

“You know, in those hymnals you leave laying around, whenever it says refrain, it means repeat. Considering your background, that’s the definition I’ll assume you’re going for.” Flip laughed along with her Mate’s hysterics. “You’re mated with a Fairy. You’re getting tickles. It’s the law.”

When she reached out for a tickly grab to his thigh, playful squirming changed to no not there panic and a paint-covered hand flailed out to shove Flip’s arm away. She paused and looked at the blue smear on her forearm.

“That’s my favorite arm, I’ll have you know.” she advised cooly.

Without waiting a beat, Castiel was off, pounding through the house at top speed with Flip hot on his heels. By the end of it, they were both coated in paint splotches, breathless on the kitchen floor.

“You got paint everywhere in this house. I hope you’re happy.” Flip mock-reprimanded, idly picking at a wet patch of green on her shirt.

Castiel gave her a sheepish half smile and gently touched a matching shade of green to her nose.

“I am~”

-----

Waking them up by holding them and playing with their hair

It was unclear exactly how long he’d been out. His Vessel ached straight down to his Grace. Strangely, there was one pleasant feeling mixed in with all the unsettling pain. The last thing he remembered was getting slammed away with a banishing ward. It had been one of the most heavy duty ones he’d ever come across.

“How did you find me?” he squinted up at his Mate, shifting his head in her lap.

“I looked.” Flip shrugged, outwardly not belaying any true concern.

She continued to card her hands through his hair, mindlessly clinging to the only thing she could think of to soothe him. Her healing powers had never been particularly polished, and she knew it would be a bad idea to even attempt it.

For now, this was fine. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her belly, waiting for his own healing factors to pick up the slack. It would take a little while. Considering how lovely her nails felt across his scalp, Castiel was not particularly fussed with the idea of having to be patient.

[sunsetinmyvein]

Just Off the Key of Reason - Chapter Twelve - Me and My Plus One

Saturday, 28th of April, 2007 – Chicago, Illinois

This time around, Patrick at least knew why he was being ignored. He couldn’t say he was overly comfortable with the situation but this time he knew what the cause behind it was. At least he was pretty sure he knew what it was; his memory was kind of hazy up until when Joe had interrupted them.  As his head hung over his toilet bowl the following morning, he tried to recall everything to the best of his ability through his pounding headache. It felt like a freight train had pushed its way through his ear canal and left a train of destruction as it pushed from one side of his head to the other, but he could make out some details through the debris. He had sent her a few half-drunken texts shortly after Pete had interrogated him about his opinion on their party planning, and unsurprisingly, they went unanswered. The night had ended not long after that, partially due to Patrick kicking people out one by one in his attempts to find her, and partially due to people actually having to go home. Once everyone had left Patrick found himself moping in his bedroom until the sun started creeping through his curtains the following morning. In the cold light of day, being forced to throw up the contents of his stomach, he was beginning to feel like maybe last night wasn’t his best decision. He should’ve known better. He should have known that it would only leave him feeling worse and wanting even more answers than he had been given. She had told him to forget it, so maybe that’s exactly what he should, would do.

 Thursday, 14th of June, 2007 – Chicago, Illinois

The time gradually ticked by in their time off. Andy had a low key family get-together for his 27th birthday in late May; meanwhile Pete had another raging party in a privately hired club for his 28th in early June to celebrate getting through his 27th year on this Earth that he never felt he’d make it to. Eventually they had to start getting ready to go back on tour. The bus was hired for the month that they would need it and was scheduled to meet them in Washington after their flight. Guitars were packed, drums were neatly slipped into their boxes, and merch was chosen. Mostly that had all been sent earlier so that it could take the longer, and cheaper, way around. Interviews were had, signings were attended, promos were released – anything to make sure that people knew Fall Out Boy were coming. If the first of their two months off had been a break, the second had been intentionally made as busy as possible just to make touring seem easy in comparison. In the process of all this commotion, Patrick had found himself meeting many new people. One of whom took a shine to him, and he took a shine to her. All of a sudden he found himself with a girlfriend. A girlfriend who wanted to come on tour with him. This was unfamiliar territory for him; he’d never properly dated anyone since they started touring regularly. She was one of the people who worked in the studio, so she wouldn’t be coming on the road normally, but he had assured her that she could come along to the first two shows with him. From there she was going to meet a friend in Oregon and they’d drive home together. He was more than happy to let the excitement of the new experience keep his mind occupied.

 The band and immediate crew members had crammed themselves into a row of seats at the airport, waiting patiently – or impatiently in Andy’s case – for their red eye flight to Washington. He sat there bouncing his knee as he watched the clock in the corner of the electronic poster in front of them. The time gradually counted up and up as he anxiously glanced around the waiting area for their missing bassist.

“Where the fuck is he?” He grumbled under his breath.

“He’ll be here, man. He was in that group chat with the flight times, just like the rest of us.” Joe reasoned from under his eye mask. He had decided as soon as they sat down that it was far too late to still be functioning and had opted to take a nap in the waiting room seat. But their drummer’s constant worrying had mostly prevented that from happening.

“It’s five minutes until we board. You’ve not heard anything from him?” His question fell upon deaf ears. Joe was either ignoring him or half asleep already and Patrick was too engrossed in his conversation with his girlfriend to care. He kicked Patrick’s shin across the aisle, earning an ‘ow’ in response as he attempted to rub the pain out of his leg. “Pete? Have you heard from him?” He asked again.

“No, I haven’t spoken to him since the day after my party.” Patrick glared back.

“Well, I’m going to call-” Before he could even punch the numbers into his phone, a familiar, overly loud, laugh filled the mostly empty gates.

“I told you he’d be here.” Joe mumbled.

 “Are you not meant to be my babysitter?” Pete laughed as he dropped his backpack from his shoulder. Patrick felt himself tense at those words, trying to remain interested in his conversation but suddenly finding it very hard to remain focused. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be giving me tips about how to get as drunk as I can on the plane.”

“You said you don’t like flying. If you’re totally wasted, you won’t even remember you did it.” She shrugged as the two of them walked up to join the group. Patrick felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. They hadn’t spoken in over two weeks. He had assumed that she wasn’t coming back for the second leg of the tour. The label had never mentioned her staying on for another month.

“I might also try and join the mile high club though.” He chuckled as he nudged her in the ribs.

Joe snorted loudly with a laugh, “Don’t pretend like you haven’t already.”

 Eventually Patrick caved to the nagging feeling in the back of his mind and looked up at her from the waiting room chair. She was rifling through her bag, he assumed for her boarding pass. The conversation he had been having was still droning on in the background of his thoughts. He felt like maybe he should say something about where they left off, but if she hadn’t wanted to talk then, why would she now? He stared at her in a stupefied silence until eventually she looked up from her bag and met his gaze. Her eyes flicked from his to above his head.

“New hat?” She asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yeah.” He absentmindedly touched the fedora atop his head. “The other one…” He swallowed hard as he tried to force the words out, “it kept getting in the way.” He could’ve sworn he saw a blush creep onto her cheeks, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because soon enough his girlfriend was grabbing his arm and dragging him to the gate to board their flight.

 Friday, 15th of June, 2007 – Seattle, Washington

The flight was mostly uneventful. To avoid his crippling anxiety of impending doom on a metal death trap, Pete doped himself up on some sleeping pills and in-flight vodka. When he came to he was draped across a couch somewhere. He felt vaguely like he was moving, but he himself wasn’t. Was he in a car? His eyes slowly came into focus and he realised he was facing a small living area. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, figuring he must have been relocated to the tour bus. A little part of him wondered who had the pleasure of hauling his unconscious ass here, but given the fact that a blanket was draped around his waist and a water bottle sat at his feet, he assumed it was probably Andy. Also he wasn’t entirely sure if anyone else would be able to carry him without assistance. He glanced around the small area at the back of the bus, spying the kitchen through the aisle of bunks and feeling his stomach growl. How long had he been out? Apparently long enough that he felt that familiar sleep induced unsteady feeling settling in his legs.  The bus seemed dark; it must still be early morning. All of the bunks had their curtains pulled shut so he assumed they had left him here while they all went to bed. He ambled through to the kitchen, examining what was in the well-stocked cupboards. This was a hell of a lot fancier than what they had in the past. The appliances were all chrome and shiny, there was a proper benchtop and even an oven cooktop combo. They must have either hired or purchased this bus from new. He absentmindedly wondered how fancy a tour bus kitchen would have to be before he decided they had made it as he refiled through the food supplies. He couldn’t help but snicker with the knowledge that the label had intended for this to last the whole tour. It would last a week at best.

 After much consideration he settled on a packet of pancake mix, it seemed the most practical option and he was excited to use appliances that he’d never had the thrill of using on a moving vehicle before. Would it be easier to flip pancakes with the momentum of the bus? But before his hand could even come into contact with the gas dial, it was rudely slapped away.

“Fucking hell,” He squeaked in surprise as he pulled his hand up to his chest, “don’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You are banned from the gas appliances.” She ordered as she moved in between him and the stove.

“What? Why?” He tried to reach around her to at least retrieve the pancake mix but she wouldn’t budge.

“Because you have a tendency to explode things.” She explained, narrowing her eyes at him. He vaguely remembered fireworks in hotels.

“No, I don’t.” He lied. “But even if I did, how am I going to cook pancakes without a stove?”

“I guess you’ll have fun working that out.” She grinned up at him. They stood there in silence for a few moments, waiting for the other to stand down, until he admitted defeat. He groaned loudly, instead grabbing a bag of chips from the counter and moving to sink back into the couch.

 The two of them decided to watch whatever terrible show was on at five in the morning in the middle of nowhere, killing time until everyone else woke up. She had gotten up early to make sure everything on the bus was working before everyone attempted to use it, at least that way they would be able to accurately tell if Pete did break anything, or if it just came like that. They’d grown a lot closer in the month or so since Patrick’s party. Anyone who was willing to assist with Pete’s antics was someone he considered a friend. He was also beginning to find her company considerably more tolerable than what it had been at the start of their tour. Even despite that every second conversation was her reprimanding him for something. After a few minutes of static silence Pete threw a chip in her vague direction. She looked over at him in confusion.

“How’s things with you and lover boy?” He asked with an eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes.

“How’s things with you and your girlfriend?” She shot back, voice laced with sarcasm.

“Good, actually.” He nodded. The confused stare he got in response urged him to continue. “We, uh… we didn’t break up this time, we’re going to try the long distance thing.” It was still a concept that didn’t sit well with him, but he figured if Patrick could work it out, then so could he.

“Oh. Well, good for you guys. I hope it goes well.” She smiled back at him, reaching across the table to grab a handful of chips. He pulled the bag away from her as he clicked his tongue.

“Nuh-uh. Answer my question.”

 She let out a heavy sigh. “That should be pretty self-explanatory, Pete. He’s on tour with his girlfriend.” Since coming back onto the tour she was trying her best to ignore the changes that had occurred in their month off. Patrick’s hair had grown out quite a bit, nearly coming down to his shoulders. He also seemed very attached to his new hat, she was yet to see him without it. In addition, and probably the most hard-hitting change, they hadn’t spoken except for their brief exchange in the airport. It was odd going from being attached at the hip to suddenly having a minimum ten metre gap between you at all times.

“That doesn’t mean shit. She goes home after two shows and you’re still here.” He finally offered the bag over to her and allowed her to take a handful.

“They won’t break up just because she goes home. Patrick’s not like you.” She laughed dryly, trying to avoid the slightest amount of hope sitting in the back of her mind that maybe Patrick was like Pete.

“I take offense to that.” He gasped. “But you never know. Crazier things have happened.” He shrugged, stuffing a wad of chips into his mouth.

“Yeah, like you being a bass player in a band when you’re terrible at it.” She grinned.

“You’re sho mean ooday.”  He garbled, spraying chips over the living room table.

[khiphop-stories]

Umbrella - Chapter IX

Lesson Nine: Solace

[Christian Yu, DPR Live]

You can find all previous chapters here.

“I could help you take your mind off things,” he whispered into your ear, leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

“Christian. Yu.” You warned him. Your voice was firm and sharp like a knife cutting through the night. 

“I’m letting this slide, because I can reek the alcohol coming from your mouth. But if you ever—“


“Shit, I’m sorry,” he instantly stepped back, creating a distance between your bodies. He pulled back his hands so quickly, almost as if he had been burned. With his eyes resting on you, he swallowed down hard, realizing the gravity of his actions, his intoxication, his momentary urge. His face was covered in shame and a trace of surprise. Surprise that was directed towards his own behavior.

“I-I don’t know what I was thinking…”



“I figured,” you gave him one last glare, before walking past him, towards the door of your apartment.

“Jenn, I’m really sor—” he tried to apologize again, as though his drunken words of apology could make the situation any better.



"Just go to bed and sleep it off, Christian.”

~*~

Christian’s eyes flickered open to the streaks of sunlight that trickled in through the blinds. He blinked, shut his eyes close and blinked again, tossing around in his bed. Suddenly, the memories of last night’s event flashed in front of his eyes.

“Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! “ He repeatedly cussed, his voice growing louder after every curse word.

 

“What the fuck was I thinking?” He asked himself, shaking his head vigorously to get the images out of his head. He immediately sprung out of his bed, pacing back and forth in his room as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

He was out of control. He had to stop.

~*~

You had been lying around in bed all morning, trying to get more sleep. Despite the alarm clock ringing continuously, you didn’t have the strength to get out of your warm and cozy bed. You should have been at university at this very second, sitting in the lecture hall and listening to the monotone and dull speech of one of your professors, which always sounded like a lullaby in your ears. However, you couldn’t pull yourself together and get ready for class, your body was strengthless, your mind was a mess.

You recalled the occurrences of last night and it made your body shudder in repulse. As if it wasn’t already bad enough that you only got to bed by 3 o’clock in the morning, you also couldn’t fall asleep, as the images of Christian’s face kept reappearing in your head. The way he looked at you. The way he touched you. The way his soft lips felt on your skin.

You wanted to kick his ass right then and there for making a sexual advance on you at the most inappropriate moment there was. However, you held your violent self back, knowing how intoxicated and heartbroken he was. You couldn’t blame him for craving physical intimacy and proximity, especially with all the liquor in his system.

“Ok, now you really need to get your lazy ass up,” you told yourself and rolled over to the side, until you had reached the edge of your bed. Pushing yourself up, you slipped into your slippers and wandered to the bathroom with your eyes still half closed.

~*~

As you took a short glance at the watch, your eyes widened at how quickly time had passed. Now, if you didn’t want to miss the bus, you really had to leave. You stuffed the last piece of bread into your mouth and rushed out of your apartment, pulling the door behind you close. You almost ran over Christian, who was standing right in front of you. It appeared he was about to knock on the door.



“Jenn—“



“Let’s talk on the way to the elevator,” you suggested as you were in a hurry. He followed you and you pressed the button.

“About last night, I—” He started, but you cut him off again.



“Oh don’t worry, I won’t take it personally. I mean I do look pretty. So it’s not very surprising that you want to bang me,” you nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders at him, entering the elevator as the door opened. You wanted to keep this conversation short. For one because you were running late and also because talking about it made you feel more than just awkward.

“I didn’t mean to—“ 

When the door of the elevator automatically slid close, Christian instantly reached out his hands, blocking the sensors of the door.

“You really wanna talk about it?” Your eyes travelled to his face and you gave him a look full of disbelief. 



“I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” he bit on his lips nervously.

“You’re making it awkward by talking about it,” you chuckled. It was a short, one-syllable chuckle filled with no emotion. 

“There’s nothing to explain, Rome. You were sad, drunk and horny. It’s as simple as that. Let’s just forget about it.”

He stared at you hesitantly, before slowly nodding his head in agreement. 


No, it wasn’t as simple as that. It wasn’t simple at all. He had clearly crossed a line last night and no matter how drunk he was, his behavior was unacceptable. You gave him consolation and you gave him your trust. You revealed the dark thoughts that were haunting you, admitting for the first time that everything was getting too much for you. And instead of comforting you, he tried to stick his tongue down your throat, treating you like a mere sexual object.


No, he didn’t want to just forget about it. He couldn’t just pretend like it didn’t happen. Because more than anything he owed you an apology, an explanation. The guilt and shame was slowly eating him up from inside.

Nonetheless, he kept quiet. Because he noticed how uncomfortable you were and he didn’t want to impose himself on you. He had already created enough damage with his actions yesterday night, so the least he could do was to respect your wish. 


“Hands,” you reminded him and nodded to his big hand that was still stopping the door from closing.

“Sorry,” he hurriedly pulled his hand away, his eyes resting on you with reluctancy. He swallowed hard and watched as you disappeared behind the block of metal.

~*~

The door of the bus moved aside and you hopped off. Just a couple of feet away a tall figure was standing in the darkness with his hands in his trouser pockets. A white plastic bag was hanging around his arm. Your body froze momentarily, however, when the figure lifted his head, you breathed out in relief. The bright light of the street lamp shined on him and you recognized his face immediately.

A little smile curled onto your lips and you skipped over to him. “What brings you here?” You asked him curiously, tilting your head at him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he had replied, before he pressed his lips together, resting his tired eyes on you.

“No company tonight?” You quirked up one of your brows teasingly. Christian let out a short hollow chuckle and rolled his eyes at your remark.

 “No, I’m solo tonight,” he smiled at you.

He still hadn’t really explained what made him come all the way to the bus station in the middle of the night and you would have stayed and listen to him, but the coldness of the night was getting unbearable. The icy air felt like sharp needless pressing against your skin.

“Can we walk? It’s freaking cold,” you pointed to the direction of the apartment building, before you quickly hid your hand in the sleeves of your jacket again.



“Sure,” he immediately swirled around and started walking with you.



“So? Why are you here?” You eyed him up and down, wondering how long he had been standing in the coldness.

Usually, you would assume he went out for a run again, but he wasn’t in sportswear and anyone who went jogging in this weather would have to be insane.

“I want to continue where we left of yesterday.”



You stopped in your tracks as your head shot into his direction, giving him a weird look.



“Not the part where I tried to get into your pants,” he let out an awkward chuckle.

“But the part where you told me things were getting too hard,” he hurriedly corrected himself when he saw the appalled expression on your face.



“I was a jerk to you yesterday. You were in need of a friend and I threw myself at you. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I owe you an apology.”



“Apology accepted,” you smiled at him, hoping this would be the last time he brought up the topic. You really didn’t want to talk about it, let alone think about it. You couldn’t point out why, by it made you feel uneasy. You didn’t want to ask yourself the question ‘why’. Why he did what he did. Was there even a reason for his actions? Or could it entirely be blamed on alcohol?

“By the way what’s that?” you pointed to the plastic bag, smoothly changing the topic.

“Pizza. I can’t come empty handed, can I?”

Your face lit up in delight and you clapped your hands together joyfully. “Can I eat it now? I’m so hungry!” You folded your hands together pleadingly.


“Here? In the middle of the street?” His eyes widened at you. "Let’s go home first.”

~*~ 
You carefully closed the glass door behind you while Christian automatically walked to the elevator and pressed the button. You didn’t follow him, instead you looked at him with hesitation, making him raise his brows questioningly.

“Can we stay downstairs?” You asked him carefully. “Hana’s sleeping and I don’t wanna disturb Dabin.”

Having a midnight snack with Christian at your apartment was out of question. Not as long as Hana was your roommate. You didn’t want to risk waking up Dabin either, since this was probably the first night that he didn’t have to endure the noises of Christian’s sexual adventures.

“Sure,” he agreed with a light chuckle. 

He pulled the zipper of his jacket down and slipped out of it, before spreading it onto the floor next to the wall. He made himself comfortable on the ground and patted the spot next to him where his jacket lay. You carefully sat down next to him and took off your own jacket, covering your legs with it.

Christian took out the white box and threw the plastic bag aside, laying the box on top of his lap. He opened it and the smell of cheese and tomatoes filled your nose.

 

~*~

“How are you holding up?” He asked you gently. It was the question he should have asked you yesterday.

“Honestly…I just wanna run away and hide,” you let out a hollow chuckle. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the wall.

“But that’s not an option. It’s hard, but I’ll get over it,” you sighed out loud.

“You know…you can always quit.”



“It’s not that easy,” you shook your head slowly. “I can’t just quit when things are getting though. I survived all these years, I can’t give up now.”

“Jenn,” he called you gently and you opened your eyes again, turning your head to him questioningly. He shifted his body and opened his arms. Knowing what his intention was, you leaned in and let him pull you into a hug.
 A soft comforting hug.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He laughed.



“Yeah,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes in response. You rested your head on his shoulders.

“You’re the strongest girl I know,” he said out of the blue.



“Thank you,” you giggled. “That’s such an honor, considering you’ve met plenty of girls in the last few days alone.”



He laughed at your playful joke, but then his face turned serious again. “I mean it, Jenn. Your endurance is incredible. You really inspire me to work harder. Whenever I feel exhausted or fed up, I look at you and my complaints just seem so trivial and meaningless. You have it at least twice as hard as me and you never whine. You never complain. You don’t curse at the world. You just do. You’re always giving your best, no matter what the situation. I really admire that.”

For a little while you just sat in silence, not knowing what to respond. You were surprised by his kind words. You were surprised by the effect his words had on you. You were never the person who seeked for someone else’s confirmation or praise. But his words made you feel at ease. You felt lighter, as though he had taken a load off your shoulders. It was amazing, how powerful words could be. They could empower the recipient or completely crush their soul.

“But Jenn…,” he broke he silence. “You don’t always have to rush towards your goals. You know…sometimes it’s ok to take a break. It’s ok to take it slow.”

You looked up at him from the corner of your eyes, your head still resting on his shoulders. Your eyes met his and he released a gentle smile. He lowered his gaze, now, staring at your lips. Neither of you moved or said a word, as if time had come to a stop.

Slowly, Christian moved in closer. You felt his warm breath against your own lips. 

Immediately, you turned your head away, faking a long exaggerated yawn.

“God, I’m so tired!” You exclaimed and stretched your arms.



“Let’s head back,” you slowly pushed yourself up and he followed suit. You picked up his jacket from the floor and handed it to him.

~*~

Christian closed the door of his apartment, letting out a long breath. His hand was still resting on the door knob and he repeatedly bumped his forehead against the door. 

Shit, he did it again. He tried to kiss you again. And this time he wasn’t even drunk. He was completely sober. What the hell was wrong with him?

Surprise surprise, another update this week and another cliffhanger-ish end LOL What do you think is going to happen next? What is Jenn thinking? And what the hell is wrong with Christian? haha Hmu with your theories ~<3

[swankymikehanlon-blog]

The Losers: Always and Forever

7 teenagers, of different high school backgrounds, would rather die than become a breakfast club 2.0

Words: 44,266

Warnings: Fat-shaming, name calling, Jerks

Chapter One: The Introduction

Monday, September 25, 8:10 a.m

Bill Denbrough tapped his pencil along the edge of the metal bleacher, admiring the sun and the clouds that accompanied it. A blue notebook laid in his lap, some pages blank, some with drawings in them, and some with random notes. He watched the wetness of the grassy football field reflect the rays of the September sun as students rolled in and filled the parking lot.

On days that were bearable, he sat on the football bleachers and drew what ever inspiration came to him. But today, there was no inspiration and the melodies of the birds just sounded like they were mocking him. He frustratingly closed his notebook and pushed it to the side all while sticking a pencil atop of his ear. He rested his chin on his hands, feeling the dig of his pointy elbows into his thin thighs. The day hadn’t even begun, yet he felt the tug downward of his eye lids.

Behind the closed curtains of his eye lids, Bill imagined a world where he had friends.

Where he was greeted through the halls, where someone would smile at him and just say ‘Hi’. But dreams rarely turned to reality, so Bill had to open his eyes and return to the living hell he called life. He had met someone, Eddie Kaspbrak, but they weren’t friends. More like acquaintances, sadly.

He took his pencil away from his ear and threw it. Sudden sadness and anger washed over him like a tsunami. Bill sat there and watched his classmates laugh with each other as the school day was in moments of beginning. He noticed a car, a car that seemed to always be there when he was there, parked far away from the others. The car’s headlights were still on, and from Bill’s angle he could see a boy, sitting still. Without context, Bill assumed the boy was having a breakdown alone. Bill chuckled a hoarse chuckle and thought-

Me too buddy.

Monday, September 25, 8:18 a.m

Richie Tozier was still asleep. Face down in a puddle of various colored blankets, his alarm continued beeping.

He hadn’t changed out of his clothes from last night, why bother, not like he has any other type of clothing. 

His Ramones t-shirt hadn’t been washed in a while, the smell proving it, and his jeans had rips upon rips. 

The beeping of his alarm clock never ceased and Richie grunted, extending his arm from under his head. His fingers barely touched the table and he gave up, a stream of soft-spoken profanities leaving his sinful mouth. 

His floor was cluttered of random school work and dirty clothes. His legs slowly rounded the bed and dropped to the cold hardwood floor. His mind, still a groggy mess from a night before, felt like bombs dropping on an unsuspecting city. Richie looked ahead, at nothing in particular, and let out a groan. He got up, cracked his back, hands, and head as he headed towards his closet. He looked inside, smiling at the ‘variety’ he had. Picking a shirt from the clutter of blackness, he tossed it on his bed and proceeded to his bathroom. 

His bathroom, a whole other mess, consisted of very few toiletries. A green toothbrush, Colgate, and a towel were usually all Richie used to freshen up in the morning. As he brushed his teeth, he looked in the mirror and noticed the redness of his eyes. He had forgotten to take his contacts out the night before and regretted it as he struggled to take them out.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Richie swore as he plucked the dry contacts from his eyes. Motherfucker seemed the like the appropriate word to use as he dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. Leaning against the sink he felt the wetness collect in in his tear ducts. He managed to open his eyes, but all he could see was the blurriness of his silhouette. He blindly searched for his glasses, glasses he hadn’t worn in years, and chuckled when he found the slightly broken frames.

He put them on and squinted, prescription strong enough to give him ultra-seeing powers, if that were even possible. Richie walked back into his room and looked at his bed, a black t-shirt still crumbled in a heap. His eyes flew to his obnoxiously bright blue alarm clock, 20 minutes until he had to leave. He contemplated the thoughts in his head but stopped to plummet down on the bed.

5 more minutes.

Monday, September 25, 8:28 a.m

Beverly Marsh sat at her vanity, applying her red lipstick with precision. She hummed along to a song that crackled in the background. The breeze of the day trailed into her room, via her ajar window, and made goosebumps appear along her freckled covered arms and legs. Her blue eyes looked like cocktail ice under the blaring sun. 

At least that’s what her father always said. 

She stood up and went to her bed, sheets neatly folded and tucked into the metal frame. Grabbing her brown book bag, she threw it over her shoulder and went downstairs. Halfway down the stairs she stopped and came back up to turn off the record player that was snug in the corner of her room.

Making her way downstairs for the second time, a sudden dread washed over her heart. She only had to get through four classes, but those classes lasted a century and a day. Soon, when the school day ended, she’d be back to working at Ophelia's until close up and avoiding her drunk father’s wandering stare. She bounced off the steps of her worn down stairs, and walked into the small kitchen that didn’t hold a lot of food. 

Opening the middle cabinet, she reached in. Standing on her tiptoes, her finger tips grazed the dusty carton box that contained her favorite cigarettes. Grabbing it on a jump she brought it down and placed two cigarettes in her book bag and another in her mouth. Placing it back in the cabinet she turned around, taking out a gold lighter with her initials on it. 

Lighting the cigarette, she walked outside, and took notice of her father’s vanished car. Scoffing, she made her way down the street. There she waited for the bus, hip stuck out, and fingers tapping the smoke. As the bus strolled up, Beverly dropped the cigarette, stomped on it and found her way into the bus filled of ignorant, idiotic, and disgusting passengers. 

Monday, September 25, 8:30 a.m

Ben Hanscom sat at the family table, picking at his waffles with his fork, as his family ate and conversed. Background noise from outside set a ‘Nuclear Family’ setting for Ben. He didn’t have a sister, or a brother, not even a dog. His parents thought he was enough. 

“Benny, aren’t you going to eat?” Ben’s mom said as she stuffed a piece of her omelette in her mouth. Ben’s father was busy watching the morning news on his unusually big phone. Ben smiled at his mother, and put his fork down.

“Nah, I’m not really hungry, I’ll get something extra at lunch.” Ben shuffled out of his chair and gave his mother a kiss and his father a fist bump. He made his way upstairs to retrieve his backpack. His room was like any other room, besides the huge monitor screens that were around his computer.

Other than that, a completely normal room. His lights were off, but the room was illuminated by a green light due to his gaming keyboard he got as a Christmas present from last year. His backpack was hung on the back of his door but his textbooks were opened on his desk. 

He grabbed them, making sure the homework was done and packed it away in his backpack. He closed his door, backpack hanging low on his form. He said goodbye to his parents and walked outside to his car. A jeep wrangler, previously belonging to his father. He got in, setting his backpack in the passenger seat and drove to school with the windows down.

Modern pop played on his speakers and Ben felt the hot air touch his face. Ben had lived farther away from the school, but traffic wasn’t that bad on specific days. Today had been a lucky day since very few cars were on the road. He felt the bass of the lower speakers by his feet vibrate through the car and it made him smile.

Today was gonna be a great day.

Monday, September 25, 8:45 a.m

Eddie Kaspbrak sat on his rolly chair, across from Phil, his goldfish. His mother was loading the laundry in the room below him, making quite the noise. Eddie had been up since the ass crack of dawn, studying for the quiz he had in chemistry. Although Eddie always got an A on every single assignment and quiz that was thrown at him, a little extra studying never hurt. Eddie’s lucky pencil twirled around his fidgeting fingers and his bottom lip started to hurt. 

Eddie was always nervous. Because of this, he had to develop mechanisms to calm him down. Mechanisms that would drive his mother up the wall. Aggressive lip biting that left his bottom lip sore for days, fidgeting loudly that the neighbors could hear, and when the nerves became too much, excessive mumbling that made him want to throw himself at a brick wall.

His nightlight was still on, faint stars remained twinkling on the beige ceiling. Noticing this, Eddie felt himself reach a normal state of relaxed breathing. The nightlight was gifted to him by his mother, when he was six years old, and it’s been working ever since. Eddie had a lot of lucky amenities in his life, a pencil, a lamp, a shoe, his bed sheets, and maybe even his toothbrush. With all this luck charms you’d think Eddie would be lucky all the time.

But that’s not the case, no, Eddie didn’t have the best luck at all. He rubbed his right forearm, recalling memories of his nasty fall, a few months prior, that left him with a broken arm and a nice white cast. The way he fell was, well, stupid. He fell out of a tree. Eddie didn’t, couldn’t, remember why he, of all people, fell out of tree or the reason he was in a tree in the first place. 

Eddie was brought of his thoughts by the a hard knock on his door.

“Eddie Bear, time for school!” Eddie rolled his eyes at the pet name he had been given ever since he was a child. He sadly said goodbye to Phil and grabbed his bag, proceeding his way out of the room. Eddie didn’t drive a car, hell, he probably won’t ever be able to as long as his mother was breathing. He also couldn’t ride the bus. The bus was filled of bacteria that would give you cancer. His mother’s words, exactly. So he only had one option left; walking. When Eddie approached the idea to his mother, she laughed, a wicked laugh and immediately scratched that option off. 

So really, the only option he had left was having his mother take him. Though he was grateful for the ability of having a parent take you places, showing up to school, your senior year, in a 1990′s Volkswagen wasn’t exactly the best thing. Eddie despised the faded red the car was painted and the way the fabric of the seats itched his skin. 

“Did you take your meds Eddie Bear?” His mother pulled out the driveway, carefully, and put the stick shift into drive. His mother drove cautiously, and with driving cautiously came driving slowly. Eddie nodded and let out a soft sigh as the long drive began.

Monday, September 25, 8:50 a.m

Mike Hanlon sat on the cold concrete floor, headphones in, and folder on his lap. He had early morning practice and just finished his daily morning shower when he forgot to do his chemistry homework. His eyes had gone wide under the water. He closed them in acceptance, acceptance that he was going to fail the chemistry quiz. But with small hope, he got out of the shower, dried himself off, put his school day clothes on, and began to last minute study.

He never dried off all the way and hated himself for it because it was fairly uncomfortable to have a cotton t-shirt stick to your skin. Mike had his playlist blasting, almost all noise was cut out as he focused on the confusing chemistry problem.

“Hanlon. HANLON!” Startled, Mike pulled the headphones out and looked at Chris, his friend, with bewilderment.

“What?” Mike asked the chuckling boy standing above him. Chris was just like Mike, a stocky build, calloused hands, and a toothy grin. Chris was like a brother to him, they had know each other since freshmen year, and it’s been a miracle they’ve kept in touch ever since.

“Ya know, if you need help, there’s a guy who tutors people for free. His name is Eddie Kaspernackle or something, I don’t really know, but he tutored me and got me from an F to a B in no time.” Chris smiled, putting his hands on his hips in a complete mom fashion.

“His name is Eddie Kaspbrak, and I don’t need help, I have my grades in control.” Mike smirked and out his headphones back in leaving a less than believing Chris standing there. After moments of no action, Chris walked away and Mike let out a guilty groan. He indeed need help, but he would never in a million years say he needed help on a homework assignment.

Not that Mike prided himself too much. But being a football player, a role model to his fellow classmates, made it almost impossible to do things with teamwork. 

In Derry High, it’s every man for himself. 

Ironic really, their school motto was ‘Teamwork makes the Dream Work’. Everyone knew it was a lie. Here at Derry High, everyone who was your friend, wasn’t your friend. Mike knew this, Mike had a lot of friends. 

Monday, September 25, 9:02 a.m

Stanley Uris sat in his car, music playing softly, and a half empty cup of ice tea was snugged in the cupholder to his right. He had parked his car in the school parking lot almost an hour ago, something he regularly did, and watched the students, who seem to never notice him or his car, walk to their first class of the day. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, matching the drumming of the song, while random thoughts danced in his head.

Did I eat dinner last night?

Do I have work today?

When will you start playing piano again?

Loser.

Stan grumbled at his own self deprecating thoughts and turned off his car. Grabbing the notebook from his passenger seat, he got out the car, lanky legs out the door one by one. His knit sweater caught on the door handle and without hesitation San ripped it off. A small hole appeared but Stan didn’t care. 

He rolled his eyes and slammed his door shut, following the line of kids that went into the hallways of Derry High. The temperature, drastic from the comfortableness of his car, made Stan scoff in annoyance. It was hot, almost humid in the hallways and he regretted wearing knit sweater. At least he looked nice, 

not that anyone would comment. 

He made his way to his locker, graffiti that lined the east wing lockers was sprawled all over. His combination was easy, 00 23 14, and he always opened it on a first try. Inside his locker it was bare. Much like everything else in his life, there wasn’t much decor or color. All but a sticker, a smiley face, left by the student the year before him. 

Grabbing his geometry textbook, he flipped through the dusty pages, and began reading the homework assignment. He had forgotten to read it, again, but at the moment he had time before geometry started so he used it to his full advantage. Entering geomtry class, everyone huddled into their friend groups. Mrs. Cassie worked at her desk, surely last minute grading their previous test. 

Ben Hanscom sat at the front of the room and watched a live stream of ‘Mario Kart 8′ being played. One headphone in his ear and the other held in his hand. Someone bumped into his desk and uttered an apology. Ben brushed it off and took his geometry text book it of his bag, preparing his desk for first period. 

Stan’s hip bumped into a table and he muttered a sorry before finding his desk at the back of the class. Losing his place in the text book, Stan looked to see who’s desk he had bumped into. Ben Hanscom’s, a boy he had worked with once on a project. He looked down back at his textbook and started reading again.

Monday, September 25,  9:54 a.m

First period was a bore. For every student really, but especially for Bill. Learning about the Gold Rush was cool and all. But, having a teacher, who might as well be a 100 years old, lecturing the students in such an agonizingly slow speed made Bill want to jump out of the second story window to his right. No one was really paying attention, they either slept or sneakily typed away on the dimmed phone screens. Bill on the other hand, scribbled and doodled on the corners of his blue notebook.

The room he was currently in was the farthest classroom in D Hall. Meaning whenever the bell rang for dismal, he and other students would have to run to their classrooms which were basically on the other side of the school. Somehow, his history class was the only senior class in freshmen territory. Bill hated it, whenever he walked, ran, down the hallways he felt their prepubescent judgeful  stares. 

His ears caught wind of small giggles from the back of the room. He turned his head and found a girl, a girl with short red hair and red lips. She stared at her lap, at what Bill guessed was her phone. He didn’t know her name, probably never will, but to say he was intrigued was an understatement.

“Mrs. Marsh!” The teachers voice boomed, octaves lower than her usual lecturing voice. The girl looked up, startled, and braced her hands on the desk. Bill was taken aback. She was beautiful. Her hair was shorter than he had noticed before, and her eyes looked like glowing ice blue orbs. Her lips, colored red, emphasized her maturity and Bill suddenly forgot how to function.

The girl, Mrs. Marsh now, smiled a warm smile and fixed her posture, which previously before was sluggish. She now sat straight up, spine aligning like the eight planets. Bill watched, almost as in a trance as the teacher resumed her reading. Mrs. Marsh looked at the students who quickly went back to ‘paying’ attention before making eye contact with Bill. His breathe get caught in his throat and a warm feeling blossomed on his cheeks. He turned around, fingers slightly shaking as he quietly closed the notebook.

Beverly looked at the boy, with a tilted head and squinted eyes. She slouched back in her seat, arms crossed over each other as she continued staring at him, specifically his shaking fingers. Beverly had seen the boy hanging around on the bleachers occasionally. Bill. His name was Bill. she only remembered it because the teacher would call roll in the morning. A sudden shrill of a bell brought her out of her thoughts. 

“C’mon Bev, we’re going to be late.” Beverly’s friend hauled her up by the arm, distracting her from Bill. She realized more than half of the classroom had left, those including Bill. She sighed and walked out of the class, arm in arm with her friend.

Monday, September 25, 10:26 a.m

Richie was sure to start a fire. The whole setting felt like a scene from ‘Riverdale’. A burning trashcan, a boy in all black, and cigarette buds lying on the ground. Definitely a ‘Riverdale’ vibe. Stan Uris stood farther away, reading from a small book. 

After first period, there was a thirty minute window for high schoolers to do whatever the hell they wanted. This thirty minute time window would morph into lunh time, so basically this was every high schoolers favorite time of the day. Stan had always come to hang out behind the school, in solitary silence long before Richie Tozier had shown up

“So do you talk?” Richie flicked another piece of paper into the burning bin. The smoke was getting thicker, but Richie continued to throw his bad grades in. Stan ignored him and flipped to the next page of what seemed to be a ‘Moby Dick’ kind of novel.

“Cool, cool. Are you like a murder?” Richie at this point threw his whole folder into the trashcan. Stan paused and looked at Richie with a glare before resuming his reading. Richie put his hands up in a mock surrender

“All I’m saying, you show up every time I’m here, and you just stand there.” Richie put his hands up in a mock surrender before pointing to Stan’s casual lean against the brick wall. Stan rolled his eyes, for what seemed like the billionth time today.

“I’m not. A Murderer.” Stan closed his book and placed on his left hip. Richie clicked his tongue and chuckled.

“Hmm, sounds like something a murderer would say.”  Richie clasped his hands behind his back and smirked at the annoyed boy. Before Stan could respond, a man, who strikingly resembled Charles Xavier rounded the brick wall.

“What do you two boys think you’re doing?” Richie chortled and waved. Stan’s eyes went wide at the sight of the assistant principal and felt the book drop out of his hands.

“Conversing.” Richie declared. The smoke had become darker in the span of barely a minute and gave him a coughing fit. Stan just looked at him with disgust as the principle crossed his arms firmly. 

“I’m not with him.” Stan said, making Richie scoff in disbelieve.

“Well young sir, you obviously are. Both of you. Detention after school in Mrs. Knotts room. If I see another cloud of smoke reach over the top of the school building, both of you are suspended.” Before either of them could react he had walked off to make more innocent victims. 

“Thanks.” Stan bent down to retrieve his book and gave Richie a few more glares before walking off.

“You’re welcome murderer.” Richie murmured as he toyed with the frays of his jean covered thigh. He looked at the cloud of smoke that dispersed in the sky and watched the flames die down. With a over-dramatic sigh Richie kicked the can for weird pleasure. Stuffing his hands in his back pockets he walked off.

Monday, September 25, 11:13 a.m

Mike stood in line, lunch tray filled to the brim with protein and questionable sides. Students filled the cafeteria with chatter and morning gossip. The lunch line always went out the door into the main hall, since Derry’s time schedule was a mess. They had all students of all grades have the same lunch, in order to have everyone participating in class and gaining the same amount of knowledge at the same time as everyone else.

Stupid idea really. Mike sighed as the usual annoyance of the students behind him began.

“What’s taking so long.” A girl behind him asked the friend next to her who just shrugged. Mike didn’t mind the wait. He was the only one who didn’t mind the wait.

“MOVE IT FAT-ASS!” A yell, few feet behind him, erupted from someone he knew. His football teammate, Angelo, who always had a stick up his ass. Mike turned around and looked at him with pure annoyance before looking back to the front to see a boy struggling with entering their id.

“Can this fat-fuck move any slower?” Mike started tapping his foot as Angelo kept referring to the boy with insulting names. He had enough when Angelo didn’t stop.

“Hey, Angelo, why don’t you shut the fuck up, huh?” Mike got out of the line, not caring that all eyes were on him. Angelo looked surprised at Mike’s burst of colorful words. Angelo laughed and stepped out of  the line as well.

“You really defending the pig holding up the line, Hanlon?” Angelo was a few inches taller than Mike, but that didn’t stop Mike from standing chest to chest with him.

Ben heard the name calling and felt red all over. He had been used to it, but someday the name calling was worse than others. He was shocked to find Mike Hanlon, a football player, the most popular football player stand up to Angelo.

“Don’t call him a pig, if anything you’re the pig.” Beverly’s voice caught attention of the two boys who were ready to fight. Angelo rubbed his chin and smirked.

“What are you gonna do about it Bitch?” Beverly was taken aback by the remark. Mike didn’t hesitate to pop him in the mouth. Beverly scooted away from the growing fight and collided with a boy. He caught her by the waist, but immediately retracted his hands. 

Ben blushed as Beverly smiled a thank you. Mike and Angelo were laying punches on each other and Ben hesitated to pull Mike away. When Mike began to get the upper hand, Ben with all his might broke the fight up by pulling Mike away. Angelo stood there, huffing with a busted lip and a bruising temple. Mike looked as if nothing had even  touched him. His face was clean of any marks, but his fist looked like a crayon box. Blood and bruises were evident. Beverly, on a whim, went up to Angelo and smacked him. 

Angelo clasped his face and let out a gurgled yell. Beverly had slapped him with her ring hand.

“That’s for calling me a bitch, you dick.” Beverly tried to walk away but Mr. Westenburg had been standing at the entry of the lunch line. He had a look of utter disappointment as he told Angelo to go to the nurse. Mike, Ben, and Mike stood there, afraid of the inevitable consequence.

“All of you Mrs. Knotts room after school. Failure to show up will be an immediate detention. You all engaged in the fight so you all deserve the consequences. I don’t want to hear any excuse.” Mr. Westenburg’s voice silenced any all conversations in the lunch room.

Mike sighed and rubbed the dried blood off his knuckles into the sides of his jeans. Beverly felt her lips feel chapped all of a sudden and Ben felt the guilt spread through out his body. Mike didn’t speak to either of them as he walked out of the lunch area and the cafeteria completely.

Eddie and Bill had watched it all go down. They sat in the middle of the cafeteria, lunch boxs opened and sandwhichs’ half eaten when the ruckus of a fight was heard. They watched Mike Hanlon, Football Varsity Captain, land punches on a boy who seemed larger in height. 

Bill and Eddie sat together at lunch, but never really conversed. They’d help out Mrs. Knott with grading papers and any other work she needed some days, but other than that, they didn’t really consider each other as friends.

Eddie, confused, continued to watch the fight, the same as everyone else, and saw a boy pull Mike away. Bill didn’t seem intrigued in the fight and put his headphones in before continuing to eat. When the violence was thought to have ended, a girl had slapped someone which caused a loud yell. The slap was loud to bring Bill out from his own bubble. He saw Beverly withdraw her hand from what he assumed was a persons face. His eyebrow quirked up at the sudden form of action Beverly had took.

Principle Westenburg’s voice echoed and had a one-sided conversation Mike, Beverly and one unknown boy. After moments of awkward silence, Mike stepped out of the cafeteria line and walked, quickly down the middle of the cafeteria. He passed by Eddie and Bill.

Eddie caught glimpse of Mike’s bruised knuckles and desperately wanted to help but he decided against it. He wouldn’t have any way, Mike doesn’t even know him. He also doesn’t have the bit of confidence to do anything in the presence of someone like Mike, so he did whatever one else did and continued on with their lunch. Bill’s attention was brought back to Beverly but she had disappeared from eye sight. Eddie and Bill looked at each other and resumed their lunch.

Dawggggg, I finally wrote the fic. Whipppp. I’m fairly excited to see where this goes, if this goes anywhere, I kinda have it planned out and I hop I attract readers. If anyone is wondering what the endgames are for this fic, it’s gonna be.....I’ll tell you next fic lmaoooo. (Also this is more of an introduction to the characters rather than a full on story chapter, next chapter is really where the story begins.)

Tagged: @asteroidbill (hmu if you wanna be tagged)

[alphacrone]

in which dex & bitty have a fight, bitty & ransom make out, dex comes to realize a few things, & poor nursey is ghosted for a couple hours. also pie.

[Part of the Blue-Eyed Jack ‘Verse. Set loosely between All Decked Out Like a Cowboy’s Dream and Kitty & the Biscuits]

CW: dubious consent (drunk surprise kissing), vague homophobia, coming out, canon typical alcohol abuse (they are taking very small shots i promise)

CON’T TEXT CONVERSATION BETWEEN YOU AND DEREK NURSE

WP: And then Cait said she’d call the cops and those kids ran so fast, it was hilarious.

DN: who’s Cait?

DN: also LOL

WP: Chow’s girlfriend.

DN: wait i thought you guys were all gay

WP: Why would you think that?

DN: ur the Gay Country Band i thought that meant the Whole band

WP: No.

WP: Just Bitty.

WP: I think.

WP: Chowder has a girlfriend.

WP: Ransom’s brought girls home more than once.

WP: Just Bitty.

DN: what about u?

WP: What about me?

DN: u just listed all the reasons ur bandmates aren’t gay

DN: but not urself

DN: y?

WP: I didn’t think I needed to say it.

WP: What does it matter?

DN: idk just curious

WP: Whatever.

Dex huffed and slumped back against the nasty, green couch. He knew Bitty would make a fuss about sitting on it -- the thing had been a point of contention between him and Chowder for months now -- but the only other option were the lumpy arm chairs and Dex hated those things.

“You texting with Derek again?”

Dex started; he hadn't realized Bitty was home. “Yeah. Why d’you ask?”

Bitty cast him a wry look over the back of the couch. “He stresses you out in a way only Chowder ever has.”

“That's not true,” Dex said grumpily. “You stress me out the most.”

“So kind,” Bitty teased. “Keep up that kinda sweet talk and I'll think you're flirting with me.”

Normally Dex would've laughed at the absurdity of the idea, but today it gave him pause. “Do people really think we’re the ‘gay country band?’”

Bitty’s smile fell. “Well, yeah, sort of. Why?”

Dex shrugged, glancing at his phone. “I don't know. Just something Derek said. I thought it was like...you were the ‘gay country singer’ and we were just your band.”

Bitty’s face grew steely and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry you have to suffer through the inconvenience of people assuming you're gay, that must just be so difficult-”

“Bitty,” Dex started, but Bitty was already headed out of the room.

“I'm going to the store,” Bitty said gruffly, grabbing his wallet from the key basket. “Be back later.” Dex stood to follow, hand outstretched.

“Bits-” But the front door slammed shut. Dex huffed a frustrated sigh and punched the wall, not quite hard enough to break anything but just enough to hurt.

Why was it that Derek’s texts annoyed him so much? Dex had never minded being lumped in with the rainbow flags and hell-bound accusations before; the Biscuits were a team and a team stuck together, had each other’s backs. Bitty was the only one of them who was gay, but they all stood for his message.

Except...except maybe he wasn't the only one at all.

It had been about a year prior, and they were on the last stretch of a tour, heading from Boise to Seattle through a long stretch of absolutely nothing. Rans had picked up a thing of decent whiskey in a sketchy, Idaho liquor store and they were in the middle of a rousing game of never have I ever. Chowder was winning at this point, with only a few fingers down, but seemed to be mercilessly targeting Bitty.

(“Never ever I have ever...lived in Madison, Georgia.”

“I swear to God, Christopher-”)

Dex was doing alright himself. He'd been impacted by Bitty’s attacks against northerners and hockey fans, but not in the same way Ransom had. Now they were battling each other ruthlessly, determined not to go out first. Bitty had two fingers left; Ransom had one.

There was something dangerously smug in Ransom’s drunken gaze as he rounded on Bitty, smirk growing. “Never ever have I ever...kissed another man.”

Bitty gasped indignantly and took his shot like a champ, very reluctantly lowering a finger. Before the next turn could be taken, however, he lunged across the circle and pulled Ransom’s mouth to his.

It wasn't the most coordinated kissing Dex had ever seen. Ransom was drunk enough that the force of it knocked him over to the side, and he dragged Bitty with him. Bitty paid no mind to the fact that he was now lying on top of his best friend; they both sort of got lost in the movements of their lips, kissing languidly and sloppily for a moment, like they were the only two people on that bus.

Then Bitty pulled back with a triumphant grin and shouted, “Take a shot, Justin.”

“No!” Ransom flopped back onto the ground, covering his face in his hands. “Bits that was a dirty move. I call foul!”

“Don't be a sore loser,” Bitty chirped, filling Ransom’s shot glass halfway. Dex supposed it would've been filled all the way if Bitty hadn't spilled so much onto the floor of the tour bus.

“Bitty, that was great!” Chowder said through his laughter. “Wasn't it, Dex?”

But Dex couldn't answer, all too aware of the uncomfortable tightness of his pants. He willed himself to calm down, to not show just how much he'd been affected by the scene in front of him.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Bitty was huffing out as Ransom tried to sit on him. “Did I offend your delicate, Canadian sensibilities?”

“I'll show you delicate,” Ransom hissed, using his full body weight to squish Bitty against the floor. Bitty’s cheeks had gone bright red from the liquor and the exertion, and Dex found the sight more intoxicating than the alcohol in his bloodstream. “You're a huge cheater and I'm gonna make sure the whole world knows.” He pulled a marker from his pocket, uncapping it with his teeth.

“No you don't!” Bitty shouted, struggling against Ransom, but Ransom was twice his size and loomed over him. Dex swallowed roughly. “We have an interview tomorrow! Absolutely not! Do not draw on my face- I will call your mother right now.”

Somewhere in there, Dex excused himself to the bathroom, and hoped no one noticed when he took a little extra time and returned glassy-eyed and out of breath.

When Bitty returned from the “store” several hours later, he was met by the sight of a pie. Peaches and cream, to be exact.

It was nothing fancy, not like the salted rose and honey pie Bitty had made the day before, the crust shaped into beautiful braids and flower petals, but it was the one kind of pie Bitty could never bring himself to make, despite the fact that it was his favorite. Dex had a hunch as to why this was, but had never gotten a direct answer about it. And that didn’t matter right now.

“I didn’t…” He started as Bitty cautiously stepped into the kitchen, eyes wide as he studied the pie on the table. “I wasn’t trying to imply I was- it’s not-”

“Dex, it’s fine,” Bitty said sullenly. “You’re not the first straight guy I’ve known who’s-”

“I’m gay,” Dex blurted out, wringing his hands together. “Um. Yeah.”

Bitty’s eyes, if possible, grew wider. “Oh! Oh, Dex, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve- I should’ve-”

“You didn’t know,” Dex said with a small shrug. “And honestly...I haven’t been sure about it myself. Until now.”

“Oh, hun.” Bitty surged forward and pulled Dex into a tight hug. Dex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and rested his chin on top of Bitty’s head. “C’mon, let’s eat this pie you made and you can talk about it. Or not!” He added, pulling back with a worried expression. “You don’t have to, unless you want to, but if you want to I’m always here, please know that-”

“Bits.” Dex grabbed both of his shoulders, smiling down at him. “There’s no one else I’d want to talk to about it more.”

“Because I’m the only gay guy you know?” Bitty chirped, moving to cut two slices of pie. Dex rolled his eyes.

“I do have other friends, you know,” he said, pulling out two plates and two forks.

“Sure,” Bitty said lightly. “And I’m an NBA player.” He handed a plate to Dex with a teasing grin.

“Ass,” Dex said, but kissed Bitty’s cheek lightly in thanks. Bitty rolled his eyes but Dex felt a million pounds lighter, just from the sheer freedom of being able to do something like that without consequence, at least in the safety of their kitchen. Bitty took his own slice and shepherded Dex into the living room, chatting a mile a minute about how good the pie smelled and how impressed he was Dex had made it all on his own.

When Chowder returned from Cait’s that evening, he walked into the living room to see Bitty and Dex asleep on the couch -- on top of a beach towel, obviously -- Bitty’s legs perched in Dex’s lap and an empty pie tin sitting on the coffee table.

In Dex’s hand, about to fall to the floor, was his phone, still open to some text thread. Carefully, Chowder took the phone and set it on the table, noticing that the thread was with Derek Nurse, unsurprisingly. They’d all befriended the Falcs the evening Bitty and Jack got together; Chowder himself was frequently in contact with Snowy and Tater, and on occasion Nurse himself. He didn’t look at the thread, but if he had, it might’ve made him smile.

CON’T TEXT CONVERSATION BETWEEN YOU AND DEREK NURSE

WP: Sorry for ghosting. Had a fight with Bitty.

DN: dude u ok?

WP: Yeah, it’s all sorted out.  

WP: Also sorry for being a dick earlier. You didn’t deserve that reaction.

DN: nah im sorry for prying

WP: It’s just...not something I’m ready to talk about with most people just yet.

DN: will you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to

DN: we’re not bffs i understand

WP: No, I trust you.

WP: But it’s hard.

WP: Bitty’s a good first step I think.

WP: Then...friends.

DN: like me?

WP: Yeah. Like you.

DN: that’s

DN: that means a lot

DN: thank you

WP: Don’t let it go to your head.

DN: wouldn’t dream of it. ;)

WP: Ugh I already regret telling you this.

DN: no take backs. Ur stuck with me :D

WP: There are worse things I guess.

DN: chlamydia?

WP: Goodnight, Derek.

DN: night, will. don’t let the bedbugs bite

DN: unless ur into that ;) ;) ;)

WP: Go away

DN: :*

DN: wow did u really text jack to tell me to shut up?

DN: rude

DN: goodNIGHT will, hope bitty feeds u poisoned pie

WP: :*

DN: emoticon. can’t tell if im proud or mad

DN: u better sleep w one eye open

WP: Go to sleep. I’ll still be here to annoy in the morning.

DN: good :)

[ionica01]

Day 7: BREATH AND PULSE

Hello again! Today is the last day of AlMei week, and it aure as hell has been a ride! I hope you have enjoyed it at least as much as I have, because it was absolutely amazing! I'm glad I got to be part of it. And now, here we go: last day, breath and pulse! I’ve been stationed in this house for nearly two years. Before, I had been stuck in a small apartment, where my sides almost touched the walls and every creak of the mattress echoed in the dim-lit room. It was such a sad environment, populated by a short blonde boy and a person always wearing an armour. They came home in the late hours of the night, if they come, when nothing moved around the city anymore, except for a lost care or drunk guy. When they came, the floor would squeak and the bedsheets would shuffle until the blonde lay down on my mattress and unbraided his hair. Sometimes, he’d take out a pocket watch and whirl it around, throwing it in the air only to catch it again and open it with a sigh. “I promise we’ll get our bodies back”, he told the armoured boy after the display, whatever that meant. Their discussions never seemed to make much sense to me, talking about things such as Philosopher’s Stones and Equivalent Exchange. The one in the armour spent his nights on the bed nearby, but he never seemed to sleep. My brother told me he didn’t even feel heavy enough to be a person, and that he had a feeling he was like a ghost. If he is right, I must say I’ve never seen a kinder ghost. On one occasion, he brought a bony, starving cat to the room and petted and fed it throughout the night, despite his Brother’s mumbles. As a matter of fact, my actual owner also seems to like cats very much. Sometimes, he brings one or two of them for several days, only to look after them and make sure they regain their strength. He pets them much in the same was the armour boy did, with undescribable love and compassion. In this room, there is more space than in the previous one I’ve inhabited. The owners have placed me in a pleasantly beige chamber, where everything smells like fresh detergent, exotic tea and books. There is also a whole wall covered in Alchemical and Medical texts, documents and research. In fact, when I was moved in, I’ve noticed another room dedicated to these fully. Every evening, the holders always fall asleep with a book in their hands, which slowly escapes the grasp of their fingers as they nod off, eventually landing on the soft pillows with a muffled thud. The atmosphere here is always calm. Unlike the pressing one in my previous apartment, I get to host a rather cute couple. There is a man with dark blonde hair and golden eyes, who reminds me a bit of my previous short owner, and a woman with dark hair and pale complexion. From the way she carries herself, I think she is not from these places: she smells like exotic spices and strange flowers and wears her hair in buns. He, however, seems to feel at home in this country, with his short haircut and soft voice. The two of them never get in bed unless they are together, so I can only assume they are a couple. Even so, they never act too cheesy with each other. There are the natural good night kisses he plants on her unbraided hair or the quick good morning pecks she uses to wake him up, but other than that, they are never grossly intimate. Sometimes, he’d wake up first and quietly stare at her sleeping figure until her eyes fluttered open. Even if I could talk, I don’t think I would bother such a tranquil stage that even the nature seems to bless. When she’s the first one to be kissed by the morning rays and her hair gets toyed with by the fresh eastern breeze, she gets up slowly and starts her day by syncing with the nature and with her sleeping husband. From time to time, I get to witness their morning workouts, a swift succession of movements that look like a mesmerizing dance to me. Being as massive as I am, I can’t even phantom ever moving like that (when there is need of two people only to lift me and I need to be turned on the side to enter through a door). The two of them, however, make it seem easy. They anticipate each other’s movements and dodge, strike again and flex, bend their arms and knees in a never-ending cycle of offensive attacks and defensive strategies. If they hadn’t called it “fighting training”, I could have sworn it was a dance as exotic as my female owner. I’ve heard their names often enough to remember them: he is called Alphonse and he refers to her as Mei. I’ve heard it roll off their tongues slowly and sweetly, like honey when you pick it up with a spoon and it lingers in the air between the hungry mouth and the jar; I’ve heard them whisper them before wishing each other sweet dreams; I’ve heard them whispered rushedly in the middle of the night when one of them hears a strange sound or when they worry about each other; I’ve heard them moaned in moments of intimacy only I have witnessed and which I won’t disclose; I’ve heard them said in angry voices when they argue over the other’s safety. Even so, I prefer referring to them as him and her. It feels more general, and it helps me believe that one day, I may again meet owners that care so deeply for each other. Bu today, it’s not their names I hear. Instead, I feel them on the mattress, heavier than usual. I feel a third pulse beating besides the two I have become accustomed to and a third breath warming the bed covers. And I heard both of them gushing over the person cradled into her arms. Trisha, they call her. She must be only a few days old, a bundle of rosy meet and tear-stained cheeks. She’s covered by white clothes and wrapped up in a warm blanket, despite it being spring already. Honestly, I don’t get why they’re so excited about her and what urges them to hold her so close and sing to her when she cries. For me, she simply destroys the balance my owners have created with her screams and constant need of attention. It’s not until she falls asleep that I can finally enjoy some peace and quiet. “She’s beautiful.” he whispers, hugging his wife and kissing her forehead, all the while looking at the baby. I don’t get what he deems as beautiful: I think it’s simply annoying. To my surprise, she nods in agreement and leans her head on his shoulder, obviously exhausted. They both fall asleep shortly afterwards, leaving me to hold all three of them in their peaceful slumber. I fixate my gaze on Trisha, trying my best to see what’s so amazing about her. While sleeping, her features have relaxed and she looks more human, yet I still wouldn’t dare call her beautiful. But then, my eyes shift involuntary to his face, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. He’s smiling in his sleep, an arm protectively wrapped around his wife and daughter. And she’s beaming as well, her face senine as she holds the sleeping bundle with both hands. I still don’t understand why they love her so much, but she makes them happy, so I try giving her another chance. In the wee hours of the morning, her eyes snap open and she takes in her surroundings. For a moment, I think she’ll start crying, but instead, she shifts in her arms and the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. Just as I’ve watched her a hundred times. I feel the little one tried to connect to her surroundings for a split second. My theory proves to be wrong when her face suddenly gets redder and she starts crying, waking her alarmed parents. While she feeds her, I can’t move my stare from the baby as I make an attempt to feel her qi and connect to it: it has only been visible for a second, but she seems to take after her parents. As her breath evens out after having eaten and her pulse steadies, I feel it again: the flame of her life tingling in this world as she becomes aware of what surrounds her. When her dad takes her in his arms and starts rocking her on his knee softly, singing a lullaby to put her to sleep, I start accepting her existence into this world and wish to see how she’ll grow up. I now feel three breath warming the mattress and three pulses beating as one each night when the family goes to sleep.

[inkdrinkershadowsinger]

All Roads Lead Here: Part 2

This will be a ten part fanfiction. I will update regularly, and I hope you guys like it. If you want to reblog it, feel free just make sure to credit me. You find the whole thing at authormitchel on archiveofourown. Thanks.

Oh, and I don’t own Niall. Obviously.

  Niall had a few rules. As not only a control freak, but also a neat freak it was best for everyone if said rules were followed to the letter. Alex’s feet on his dashboard wasn’t exactly complying with his rules. Head leaned against the window, mouth wide open, feet on the dashboard, and fast asleep. Alex had been out for the past half hour and Niall needed to stop and get some gas. Pulling off into a convenience shop Niall headed inside to pay and buy some snacks for the road. He knew there’d be nothing in his fridge when they got there and Alex would surely be hungry. Niall grabbed a couple bags of chips and a couple of waters, wisely ignoring the half priced sushi in the glass case.

            He knew he shouldn’t, but he had only seen the photo briefly when Alex had shown it to him earlier. Niall hopped behind the last person in line, and pulled out his phone. Damn google, it was too easy to find and all he did was type in Liam’s name. Apparently, it was a tabloid fucking field day, and all the sharks were coming out to feed. No wonder Alex had tried to get away. The Sun. Star. Us Weekly. Even more credible sources like People had a spot for the heartbreaking story on their cover. One Direction member Liam Payne caught cheating on long time girlfriend Alex Ballerini. Caught! Boyband Member Liam Payne’s Tour Exploits.

            But it was the photo that was the worst. Dark hair and red lips, she was exactly the kind of girl Liam was known to chase. Damning his friend even more than the fact that his lips were attached to hers. Niall was all too familiar with how Liam showed affection. He and Alex had never shied away from public displays though Liam was always the one to initiate the more overt displays. Niall knew how Liam held Alex as he kissed her. Niall knew Liam’s type, and Niall knew he hadn’t been out with Liam when this photo was taken. Their vocal coach had demanded that while they were in Italy that Niall take it easy, calming tea and definitely no alcohol. So, when some of the boys proposed going out, Niall had declined. He heard them come in that night. Louis always was a loud drunk, but the next day nothing had seemed out of ordinary. Liam had met the rest of them on the tour bus a little later, but Niall just assumed he was a little hungover like he normally was after a night out. He always went a little harder when he knew they didn’t have a show the next day.

            Niall closed out of the site and cleared his history just in case Alex got a hold of his phone for one reason or another. She hadn’t wanted to stop and get another one before they left so Niall told her that she could use his if she needed it.

            Alex was awake when he got back to the car.

“I got you a water,” said Niall as he handed her the bottle. “And some candy.”

            She smiled at him. “Thanks, oh, M&M’s, my favorite.”

“I know,” Niall said before he could stop himself. Though Alex didn’t seem to catch the slip.

            “We should be there soon,” said Niall as he cranked the ignition.

“Great,” she replied, grabbing her purse and pulling it onto her lap. She flipped down the visor and leaned forward.

            “I look like crap,”

Niall glanced over at her. “Ahh,” he said, jokingly.

            “Not going to deny it?” she asked.

“With that bed head?” said Niall. “No way.”

            Alex leaned over and made a jab for his ribs.

“Hey, I’m trying to drive here,” he said. Trying and failing to stay focused on the road as she pulled out some chapstick and put it on, getting some lotion next and dabbing some out on her hands. She pulled a hair tie from her arm and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Niall tried and failed not to look at the line of her shoulders and the base of her neck as she twisted and turned to put her hair up in a nice style.

            “Let’s listen to the radio,” said Alex. “Do you mind?” she asked even as she went for the dial turning it to some pop station Niall never would have listened to otherwise.

            “Waiting for one of our songs?” asked Niall, before thinking better of it. “Uhh, maybe we should listen to another station.” He didn’t know how she would react if she heard Liam’s voice now. He reached for the radio, not wanting to chance it, but she stopped his hand with hers.

            “I’m not that weak, Niall,” said Alex, smiling at him kindly.

“Besides, I want to be Zayn,” she said. “He always gets the best parts.”

            Niall clicked his tongue, and pulled his hand back, ignoring the way her hand felt on his as he turned back to the road, praying for once not to hear his song on the radio.

  NEXT CHAPTER

            They got in late. Niall gave her a little tour, then showed her to the guest bedroom. They had stopped for some more substantial food before they got there, and Niall promised that he would go to the store first thing in the morning. He gave her some clean sheets for the bed, and helped her put them on before showing her where the towels were so she could take a shower if she wanted.

            Niall had moved to the living room and puttered about a bit before moving to his own room to shower off the travelling smell. That was when his stomach grumbled. Niall thought he might have some bread or something that wasn’t completely molded left in the kitchen, enough to make a sandwich at least. He was stopped at Alex’s door to ask her if she wanted anything when he heard it.

He can hear her through the door, quiet sobs like she has both hands over her mouth, but the grief just won’t stay in. He used to get these nightmares. It was around the time his parents separated, and on the nights where he couldn’t rationalize the fear away he would crawl to the middle of his bed and let the tears fall. He’d put his hand over his mouth and hope he didn’t make enough noise to wake up Greg. Every kid got them, and Niall knew it was nothing to be ashamed of, but there were times when he wished he could have just let it go, to have someone be there and tell him it was just a dream without feeling like it would be an inconvenience to them if he did.

So, he knocked.

 The crying stopped in an instant, and Niall knew she probably wanted to be left alone. She had gotten the worst of it for the past week, and she never did like to admit when she felt less than. Liam always complained about how she would never let him over when she wasn’t feeling well. Fucking Liam.

            He rests the back of his hand on his forehead and takes a breath.

“Alex,” he calls tentatively. “I’m coming in,” Niall warns. He gives her a few seconds to tell him no, or tell him to go to hell, but when she doesn’t he pushes the door open. The rooms dark and he doesn’t bother turning on the light. He can see good enough. She’s sitting in the middle of the bed, her legs pretzeled, elbows on her knees, hands cradling her head. Tears pool in her eyes and before Niall’s better sense can get a hold of him he’s already on the bed. He surrounds himself around her like a physical barrier that could separate her from all the shit she’s going through.

            “Alex,” he mutters. He wants to tell her it’ll be okay, that she’ll stop feeling like this, that one day she’ll move on, but he knows that’s not what she wants to hear.

            “Lay down,” he says instead. She gives him a quizzical look. “You need to get some sleep,” he explains. She looks panicked.

            “I can’t, Ni, I’ve tried,” She sounds tired and hoarse from crying, but Niall won’t concede on this.

            “Come on,” he urges. “I’ll stay with you.” She relaxes at that. Her shoulders untensing as she does as he asks. She rolls to her side leaving more than enough space for Niall beside her. He laid down, careful to leave some space between them. Lovers slept close, friends, even friends where one was really attracted to the other kept their distance.

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Alex speaks up, startling Niall out of his thoughts. “That’s fine,” Niall replies. He doesn’t want to talk about it either. He knows it isn’t the same, but Niall feels like Alex isn’t the only one Liam made a fool out of. Niall thought he knew Liam, but then how could he not have known Li was capable of this? Apart of him is just floored, but an equal part screams at him that he should have known all along, yells that he never would have stooped that low, that he never would have done that to her, not to anyone. It’s that same part that whispers that he was the better man after all.

            “I don’t want to talk about anything,” he says instead. “I’m going to sleep.” Niall hears her chuckle, and the atmosphere in the room lifts. “Fine, then,” Alex snorts, and Niall knows she’s smiling.

            “Goodnight, Niall.”

“Night, Alex.” He waits until even breathing fills the room before he closes his eyes, happy he knocked and even happier that she let him in.

[dramacurrent]

Although they still have a lot more growing to do, Gi Bbeum and Ma Sung finally start to reconnect in this episode.  But is it too little too late for them?  How do you build a relationship with someone you meet for the first time every day?  Join us as we continue recapping Choi Jin Hyuk’s newest KDrama: “Devilish Joy.”

Devilish Joy Episode 3 Recap

We open to Ma Sung at his desk recording his memories for that day.  Unlike last time, he hesitates when he reaches the part of the day which included Gi Bbeum.  His brow pinches as he remembers this evening when she told him to forget her.

On the other side of town, Gi Bbeum is also remembering their encounter.  Her face turned to the window, she sits quietly in the dark while her father’s voice flows from the other room.  “Just because I am poor, does not mean I don’t know what loneliness feels like.”  He recites, and Gi Bbeum presses her hand against her mouth, no longer able to hold back the sobs.

At his house, Ma Sung lays restlessly in his bed and wonders why he can’t fall asleep tonight.  Rising, he walks over to water the lettuce plants in his indoor garden.  This sparks an idea as he remembers that lettuce can help with sleeplessness.  Like a mad rabbit he begins shoving handfuls of greenery into his mouth.

However, when he again lies on his bed to sleep Ma Sung decides that his lettuce is defective.  Next up he tries wine, but this only causes him to drunk dial his secretary.  He yells at the secretary that if Ma Sung asks tomorrow to tell him “nothing happened today.”  The confused secretary asks if he means Joo Gi Bbeum, which just makes Ma Sung more upset.

Two empty wine bottles on the counter, Ma Sung again lays in bed restlessly.  At last bolting up, he reaches for a pen and writes on his arm “The Strange Person Who Causes a Fuss.” “At least,” he observes, “I feel like there is some value in remembering you tomorrow” and then falls back on his pillow, sound asleep.

The next morning Ma Sung stands in the shower and scrubs at the writing on his arm oblivious to it.  But as he scrubs a memory of Joo Gi Bbeum slices into his thoughts.  He sees her turn and walk up the steps away from him as she tells him to erase her memory.

Moments later Ma Sung sits at his island as his secretary rushes in.  Ma Sung hands him a drawing of his memory and asks what it is.  The secretary tries to crack a joke about it being a ghost, but Ma Sung is not in the mood.  When he explains to his secretary that he has been trying to remember this memory all morning, the secretary is astonished that he remembers something again.  Just then Ma Sung turns in to notice in horror his COMPLETELY empty lettuce garden.  (Bwahaha!)

Later on Ma Sung’s secretary drives him to work.  Gi Bbeum’s memory is still poking at him, especially since he can’t figure out what it is that is written on his arm, since the shower erased most of the writing.  His secretary notices but presses his lips together.

At the same time, Gi Bbeum is working on designs with Nan Joo at their shop, when suddenly Nan Joo’s assistants come over to them timidly.  They have made a terrible mistake.  A black fur necklace which was promised to Lee Ha Im was accidentally sent to the wrong place and won’t be there in time for her interview today.  Just when it seems hopeless, Gi Bbeum has an idea.  Grabbing fake fur and her sewing supplies she recreates the necklace exactly.  The assistants and Nan Joo are overjoyed that she has saved them.

At the studio, Nan Joo rushes in with the fake necklace and puts it on Lee Ha Im.  As Ha Im inspects herself in the mirror, Nan Joo chants to herself hopes that she won’t be able to tell the difference.  But Ha Im is clueless and declares it to be nice.

At his entertainment agency, Ki Joon talks to his manager’s assistant about Joo Gi Bbeum.  Ki Joon is curious about her family and how she lives.  When asked by the assistant why he is so interested, Ki Joon boldly tells him it is because he likes her.  He then asks the assistant whether he got the presents he wanted him to buy.  When asked who they are for, Ki Joon again boldy says they are for his “father-in-law.”

Meanwhile, Gi Bbeum’s dad is hard at work tending flowers outside an office building.  Turning, he yells at the women cleaning to correctly sort the recycling.  As he kneels, Ki Joon walks up behind him holding the two bundles of presents.

Ki Joon bends down and says “hello,” but Dad just asks why he is here.  Ki Joon is overjoyed to realize that Dad knows who he is and joyfully begins to chat with him.  But Dad responds by asking what he ate to become so chubby.  Just then Dad starts barking, and Ki Joon realizes that he has been talking to a tiny dog in the bush he was tending.

Ki Joon’s eyes widen in horror at the sight of the dog, and he pulls back.  But as he retreats the (adorable) dog begins to run towards him.  At the same moment a motorcyclist drives up behind him  blocking his escape.  Packages go flying into the air as Ki Joon screams in pain.  The motorcyclist removes his helmet and we see he is none other than Gi Bbeum’s brother, Ja Rang.  “Dad!” He cries in horror as he rushes over to where Ki Joon has fallen on top of Dad in a literal dogpile.

Moments later Gi Bbeum rushes to her dad’s room at the hospital.  Poor Dad lies on his bed with a massive brace wrapped around his middle.  Gi Bbeum is at first concerned for him, but then notices the luxury of the room he is in.  Brother assures her that he didn’t request such a nice room, but that it is what they were given.  Gi Bbeum immediately assumes the giver is Ma Sung.

Upstairs at the hospital, Ma Sung is still puzzling over the smudged writing on his arm.  Picking out the words “fuss” and “strange” he does an online search and finds an article about strange trespassers entering VVIP wings at hospitals.  He decides this must be what he was trying to tell himself.

Soon after Ma Sung and one of the hospital managers walk around the VVIP floor.  Ma Sung is livid and scolds the manager for letting a trespasser on to their floor.  The poor manager is very confused and upset since he was unaware that they had had a trespasser.  But Ma Sung insists that they did, since he left himself a note about it.

As they stand talking, Gi Bbeum and her humble looking family happen to walk passed them.  Ma Sung spots them and questions the manager whether they are truly VVIPs, but the manager is unsure.  Dissatisfied, he starts to walk around the corner when Gi Bbeum she calls to him.

He asks her what she wants to discuss, but to his bewilderment Gi Bbeum tells him that he probably knows better than she does.  She tells him not to think highly of himself just because he has money; She won’t take a cent from him.  However, to her surprise Ma Sung responds that of course she should pay for her hospital bills.  “Who else would pay for them?  Me?”  He asks, supposing that she is trying to connive a free room out of him.  He turns to scold his poor manager for letting them in to the VVIP wing and then leaves. Stammering, Gi Bbeum watches him go.

Moments later Gi Bbeum stands in front of the VVIP check in counter.  The nurse has explained to her that Ki Joon, not Ma Sung, was not her anonymous donor.  Gi Bbeum wilts in embarrassment.

Still on the VVIP floor, Ma Sung visits his cousin in his room.  Poor Ki Joon clutches his lower region in pain as Ma Sung laughs at a photo of the adorable teacup poodle that attacked him.  Ma Sung continues to laugh until he realizes how upset Ki Joon is.  “The only thing I’m more afraid of than Mom is dogs.”  Ki Joon tells him.

“Did you have a traumatic incident?”  Ma Sung asks.  “I had no idea.”

Ki Joon explains that as a kid he was bitten by a dog in the same place as today.  “Where a man’s pride lies,” he whispers.  When Ma Sung questions whether it is the exact same place, Ki Joon offers to let him see.  But Ma Sung quickly tells him to keep his pants on.

When Ma Sung begins to give medical reminders to avoid infection, Ki Joon rushes to ask him whether he is in danger of dying and will he still be able to marry?

Mischievously, Ma Sung folds his arms.  “You definitely won’t die.  But marriage I’m not so sure about.”  This has the desired effect; and Ki Joon calls out in exasperation.  Laughing, Ma Sung admits it was a joke.  (Loving the bromance between these two.)

Downstairs, Gi Bbeum sees her father’s hospital bill.  It is an astounding $4400.  She asks the receptionist if it is possible that they accidentally added an extra zero.  But no, that really is the price of a VVIP room and exam.  Gi Bbeum leans over the counter to request an employee discount (since she knows Ki Joon), but just as she does Ma Sung walks quietly up behind her.

“I didn’t know there were still people who use executives names to ask for discounts.”  Ma Sung says loudly, startling Gi Bbeum.  “Earlier I thought you said you’d pay the bill and wouldn’t accept help from me.”

“I didn’t know how expensive it would be,” Gi Bbeum tells him honestly.

“Ah, so now you are ready to accept help?” He taunts.  Gi Bbeum raises two puppy dog eyes up to him pleadingly, but Ma Sung is unmoved and tells her to be sure to pay every cent.

Giving up, Gi Bbeum pulls out five credit cards from her wallet and asks for a payment plan spread over all of them.  The receptionist takes four of the cards and returns the last, telling her it is her bus pass.  (haha!)

With a huff of annoyment Ma Sung walks away from the counter.  Just then a memory hits him of the two of them last night.  “Why didn’t you come that night?”  the memory asks him.  Ma Sung turns alarmed to look at Gi Bbeum where she still stands at the counter.

Gi Bbeum turns away from the counter with a frustrated huff and startles to see Ma Sung staring at her.  But misunderstanding his look, she leaves hurriedly while Ma Sung to watches her go.

Later that day, Ma Sung sits at his desk staring at the drawing of his memory.  His secretary stands over him, watching him.  “I’ve been thinking all day,” the secretary announces, “about whether I should tell you a certain noun, but I think I really should tell you. You did threaten me not to tell you.”  At this Ma Sung lifts his eyebrows in surprise.  “It’s Joo Gi Bbeum,” the secretary blurts out.

At her name, Ma Sung cries out in pain.  The secretary is fascinated and repeats her name over and over, and each time Ma Sung reacts in pain.  Finally, Ma Sung is annoyed and screams at his secretary to stop.  The secretary asks if Ma Sung might have met that person yesterday without the secretary knowing.  “Joo Gi…who?” Ma Sung asks.

Cut to the secretary again showing Ma Sung the viral video of Gi Bbeum dancing away her bad luck.  “So you’re saying I caused a fuss yesterday because of that woman?”  Ma Sung asks in amazement.  The secretary confirms this is true and asks if maybe Ma Sung’s memory from this morning was of meeting Gi Bbeum yesterday.

Moments later Ma Sung walks into his doctor’s office downstairs.  His doctor asks if he still remembers the woman he described yesterday, but Ma Sung admits he can only remember her back now.  However, a woman he met today has caused him to remember more.  The doctor suggests that they solve the puzzle written on his arm first.  Ma Sung insists that he has no idea what the words mean, but his doctor encourages him to try to remember.

Concentrating, Ma Sung sighs.  Suddenly a memory of himself from last night returns to him.  “I think I wrote it so I could remember that woman.”  He announces, still unsure.  Another memory returns of Gi Bbeum’s house and the shoes in front of her door.  When the doctor asks if he can remember what they talked about, Ma Sung recalls her anger at him that he didn’t remember her.

Changing tactics, the doctor tries hypnosis on Ma Sung.  Memories of Gi Bbeum from yesterday come flooding back to him in wave after wave.  Ma Sung wakes in a panic.

“You know how the brain reacts when human beings falls in love, don’t you?”  The doctor tells him.  “You fell in love.”  Ma Sung stares at him startled.  “This is why you keep thinking about that woman,”

Later that day Ma Sung again sits at his desk recording his memories, but this time he includes every detail about Gi Bbeum.

Across town, Gi Bbeum tries to make a withdrawal from an ATM.  After making her withdrawal, she stares in disbelief at the remaining amount: $2.00.  She sighs.

As she goes about her day buying supplies for the shop, her phone rings.  It is Ma Sung.  Without hesitation, she answers and immediately hangs up.  Back at his house, Ma Sung observes that her hanging up means that she knows who he is.  Changing his tactic, he texts Gi Bbeum that he will buy 100 pieces of clothing.  This gets Gi Bbeum’s attention at first, but then she decides not to fall for his tricks again.

“I’m not selling!”  She blasts back at him.  Ma Sung again texts her; this time offering 50% off her hospital bill.  Gi Bbeum hesitates, but chooses to ignore him.  Trying again, Ma Sung texts her an offer of 40% off her hospital bill, followed immediately by 30% and 25%.  At each new text Gi Bbeum cries out in alarm.  “Why is it going down, not up?!”  Begging the phone not to chime again, she furiously dials Ma Sung’s number.

Scoffing at her speed, Ma Sung answers his phone.  Gi Bbeum’s words topple out one over the other as she tries to explain how she didn’t see his texts so he should at least give her a 30% discount.  At this, Ma Sung marvels how money always gets her attention.  He asks if he can meet her to give her the discount.  Gi Bbeum offers to come to him, but he tells he will come to her.

Not long after, Ma Sung steps out of his car at the clothing market where Gi Bbeum was shopping.  The place is huge, so he calls her to give him directions.  Mischievously, she gives him the wrong directions, just like he did to her yesterday.  Having a lot of fun, she leads him around the market randomly.  But her fun is interrupted when Ma Sung finds her himself.  “I think I’ve suffered enough,” he tells her, making her cough in surprise.

Seconds later, Ma Sung dials the hospital.  He tells them to fix a “problem” with her bill.  The voice on the phone asks if Gi Bbeum is his girlfriend, in which case she can get the family discount.  At this Ma Sung too emphatically insists she isn’t.  The voice asks what she should do.  Gi Bbeum looks at him pleadingly and offers him her banana milk.  Taking the milk, Ma Sung tells the voice to give her a 40% discount.

The call ended, Ma Sung begins to speak with Gi Bbeum, but she interrupts him to say thanks and leaves.  Crying in exasperation, Ma Sung rushes after her.

Hours pass as Gi Bbeum walks around the market shopping while Ma Sung follows.  To his frustration, she ignores him completely and even stops to haggle with a merchant over $2.50.  But when the haggling becomes fierce, Ma Sung yells at her to just buy the items already since they’re cheap.  The satisfied merchant tells Gi Bbeum that her husband is very wise, which surprises but doesn’t displease him.  Gi Bbeum emphatically denies that he is not and continues to haggle up until the last minute.

After leaving the merchant, Ma Sung asks Gi Bbeum why it is that she always asks for a discount on everything.  But she informs him she does pay full price on some things…bus and subway fare.  He asks if she would ask for a discount on those too if she could.  “Obviously.” She tells him.

A little later, they stand in front of a food vendor.  Ma Sung is displeased that her “thank you meal” lacks so much heart, but she informs him it isn’t heart she lacks — it’s money.  He continues to gripe, but insists on eating the food she bought for him just the same.  Looking over, Gi Bbeum spots a sign for ice cream and asks if he would like some.  As she dodges over to buy the ice cream, Ma Sung wonders to himself how it can be that he fell in love with a woman like this.

Returning, Gi Bbeum hands him the ice cream.  As he tears it open, she notices the band-aid he had been wearing on his hand has peeled back to reveal his memory flower tattoo.  Her face becomes sad as she asks if he drew the picture of the flower.  But he tells her no;  it is a tattoo.  Gi Bbeum continues to stare at the image as memories of when he requested her heart that day come back to her.  Hopefully, she asks if eating ice cream brings back any memories to him.  But Ma Sung just laughs and asks what on earth she is talking about.  Crestfallen, Gi Bbeum continues eating.

After lunch, the two finally leave the market.  Ma Sung heads over to his car, but to his bewilderment Gi Bbeum heads to the bus stop.  Calling after her, he leaves his car to follow.

As they walk, Ma Sung asks why it is that her father was in a VVIP room when they couldn’t afford to pay.  He assumes she must have been trying to impress, but Gi Bbeum scoffs that it was because she knows someone at the hospital of an even higher rank than him.  Curious, he wonders who it might be.  As reply, she straightens and lifts her head.  “I know Director Sung Ki Joon,” she tells him.  At this Ma Sung is taken aback.  Gi Bbeum assumes this means he is impressed, but he is more interested in what kind of relationship she has with Ki Joon.  He informs her that Ki Joon doesn’t like her style of woman.  At which Gi Bbeum scolds him that that is no way to talk about the director.

“That director used to play with me in his underwear.”  Ma Sung tells her.  “He’s my cousin.”  At this Gi Bbeum turns around startled.  If Ma Sung is related to Ki Joon, then is Ma Sung rich too?

Ma Sung shakes his head in amazement at how everything always comes back to money with Gi Bbeum.  He wonders if this means she will be nicer to him now, but Gi Bbeum quietly reasons that they won’t be seeing each other anymore anyhow.

Just then, two strangers walk by and recognize Joo Gi Bbeum.  Alarmed, Ma Sung reached into Gi Bbeum’s bags and yanks out her scarf.  He wraps it around his face like a bandit.  When Gi Bbeum asks what he is doing, he tells her he doesn’t want people to recognize he is with her and hurries on ahead.  “Don’t act like you know me.”  He shouts back.

When the bus arrives Gi Bbeum immediately hops on, scans the card in her purse, and takes a seat.  Ma Sung follows right behind, but is baffled by the card scanner.  Confused, he bumps his hip repeatedly on the scanner.  (Gah! I can’t watch.)  When this doesn’t work he looks over at Gi Bbeum pleadingly, but she is doing her best to ignore him.  By now everyone on the bus has noticed him trying to get her attention, and one helpful woman gently encourages “Miss Joo Gi Bbeum” to pay for her poor boyfriend.  This alarms Ma Sung who laughingly tells her he is not her boyfriend.  At last giving in, Gi Bbeum hops up to pay for her “honey.”  Ma Sung stares at her in shock.  Shrinking into their seats they both sit in embarrassment.

Walking the alleyways towards her home, Ma Sung scolds Gi Bbeum for calling him her “honey” in front of all those people.  But she retorts that he had asked her to be nice to him, so she did.  She tries to say good-bye, but Ma Sung refuses to go.  He asks if she will please, just once, explain what she meant last night when she said they kissed.  Gi Bbeum is displeased, but relents.

“By chance we met in Hainan,” she tells him, “and fell in love at first sight.”

“So that’s why we kissed?”  He asks.  “When was that?”

“Three years ago,” she responds, “on the last day of June.”

Ma Sung stares at her in surprise as he begins to realize what her words mean.  “So that’s why I remember you every day.  Because we liked each other then.”  But Gi Bbeum doesn’t understand what he means and tells him that if they had really liked each other then, then they wouldn’t be meeting like this now.

“I’m sorry,” he says to her gently, “for not remembering.”

“No,” Gi Bbeum responds quickly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, because this won’t change anything between us.  So you don’t need to be sorry.  It was just a brief encounter,” she tells him and walks away.

That night, Ma Sung stands in his memory room.  He has added drawings of Gi Bbeum to a new section on his wall.  “If it was such a brief encounter,” he wonders, “then why do I remember you every day?”

The next day Ki Joon again arrives at his entertainment agency’s building at the same time as Lee Ha Im.  Ha Im has chosen to wear her fur necklace again today, still unaware that it is a fake.  Coincidently, Ki Joon has also worn the same fur necklace, although naturally his is real.  Immediately when Ha Im sees him she begins to make fun of him for wearing a fake.  But Ki Joon observes in amazement that hers is the fake, since his is real.  She firmly corrects him that she is wearing real arctic fur.

In response, Ki Joon leans in close and rubs her necklace.  “I was right” he tells her, “I grew up rich so I am allergic to fake fur.”  He leans in to check again and this time starts to cough.  Reflexively he pulls back from her shielding himself from the fur allergens.  Ha Im stomps over to the agency door, but yet again she can not let herself in.  Pushing her aside, Ki Joon again unlocks the door for her.

Across town, Gi Bbeum’s family sits outside sharing ramyun noodles while she pays bills.  Softly, dad asks Ja Rang why it was that he was on a motorcycle yesterday during the accident.  Quickly pulling his finger to his lips, Ja Rang whispers it was for a part-time job he doesn’t want his sister to know about. Dad gives him a look, and Ja Rang pulls money out of his pocket to bribe his father with.  Wealthier, Dad begins to sing happily along with the radio.  As they talk, Gi Bbeum sneaks off to a corner to call Nan Joo about lending her money for this week’s bills.

As she hangs up with her friend, Gi Bbeum’s phone rings with a call from Ki Joon.  Seconds later we see her hurriedly leave for her new “part-time job.”

Back in his home, Ma Sung reads his notes from yesterday and sighs.  Slowly he closes the book and we see the cover.  The entire book is titled “Joo Gi Bbeum, the strange person who causes a fuss.”  (Aww, he went from not including his memories of her to having a book just for her.)  Just then his phone rings, it is also Ki Joon.

Ki Joon tells him that he needs to come by his Star Entertainment agency today.  Since Ma Sung is their investor, he wants him to be involved when they sign a major contract today with “the woman he needs to save.”  At first Ma Sung is annoyed at being bothered, but then he stops himself and asks if the woman being saved is Joo Gi Bbeum.  When Ki Joon says it is, Ma Sung hurriedly tells him to wait for him.

Meanwhile inside Star Entertainment, Ki Joon has just told his manager that he has been able to get a huge star to sign with him.  Delighted, the manager tries to guess who the famous star might be.  As they talk, Gi Bbeum arrives.  The manager gasps in horror at the sight of her.

After his initial shock at seeing her subsides, the manager sits down to talk with them.  He asks her why it is that she is here.  Gi Bbeum still thinks she is there for a part-time job, but Ki Joon is grinning to himself like a Cheshire cat.

Just then, their “financier” Ma Sung walks in the door.  He pretends to be surprised at seeing Gi Bbeum there.  This alarms Ki Joon and he demands how it is that they know each other, but she assures him they only know each other “in passing” — to Ma Sung’s annoyance.  Ki Joon is noticeably relieved.  As Ma Sung sits down next to Gi Bbeum, Ki Joon explains that he is the new owner of their building.  Gi Bbeum whispers to Ma Sung that he must have wanted to act rich by buying the building, but Ma Sung assures her it isn’t act, “It’s skill.”

Turning to Ki Joon, Gi Bbeum asks what the part-time job is that he has for her.  At this Ki Joon again grins widely and announces that they want to scout her.  Everyone, including Gi Bbeum, is  uncomfortable and confused by his news.  Ma Sung in particular begins to list the reasons not to sign a contract with a star with a “million anti fans.”  When his list gets to long Gi Bbeum shoots him a withering glance which silences him.  The manager agrees and tells Ki Joon to listen to his investor.  But Ki Joon is adamant.  He is going to sign Gi Bbeum.  He hands her the contract, but Gi Bbeum hesitates, obviously uncomfortable.

Moments later, Ma Sung is walking with Gi Bbeum out of the building when she suddenly grabs him arm.  She has just seen her old manager (Lee Ha Im’s current manager) leaving the building.  She tries to hide behind Ma Sung, but just as the jerk manager walk by Ma Sung says her name.

At the mention of “Joo Gi Bbeum” jerk manager turns and greets her, asking what brings her here.  Hedgily Gi Bbeum tells him she was just meeting a friend.  Although the conversation seems outwardly normal, Gi Bbeum is obviously tense and jerk manager can’t completely hide his distaste.  As quickly as possible, she ends their talk and rushes away pulling Ma Sung with her.

Obviously still upset, Gi Bbeum hurries as she walks.  A stride behind her, Ma Sung follows.  He asks her who that man was.  “He didn’t look like a nice man,” he tells her shaking his head.  But Gi Bbeum interrupts him before he can continue.

Tears in her eyes she yells at him, furious for drawing notice to her when he knew she was hiding.  Confused, Ma Sung asks if he really did something wrong.  He had just been joking.  With more emotion than necessary, Gi Bbeum yells that it was “truly terrible” and leaves without letting him repent.

Back at the hospital, Ma Sung’s aunt has again gathered the consul of Ma Sung informants.  Ma Sung’s doctor has just finished telling her about Ma Sung’s new interest in Gi Bbeum.  At this news Auntie seems more amused than anything else, wondering if it will last.  The doctor tells her it will be difficult, considering the traumas he would have to overcome.

Sharply, Auntie turns to Ma Sung’s secretary and asks what sort of person the woman is.  Cautiously, he only tells her that the woman is a celebrity.  This seems to amuse the others, but Auntie becomes angry and fiercely tells him to get ride of her.

That night Gi Bbeum sits outside a corner store drinking with Nan Joo.  She shows her friend the contract Ki Joon had given her.  Nan Joo is delighted, but Gi Bbeum tells her she isn’t going to sign it, after all she is happy how she is.  Aghast, Nan Joo reminds her how the public used to adore her.  “Don’t you miss those days?”  She asks.  Gi Bbeum grows quiet and sad, but still tells her that she doesn’t miss it at all.  Still, her friend reminds her that she has to provide for her family somehow.

At Star Entertainment, Ki Joon sits on the couch and speaks with one of the hospital managers.  He wants to know what happened to the house — Gi Bbeum’s house — he asked him to purchase three years ago.  The manager tells him that the house was given to Ma Sung’s secretary.

Cut to Ki Joon sitting on the same couch with Ma Sung’s secretary.  He asks if he can see the house tomorrow, but the secretary informs him that someone lives there now.  Exasperated, Ki Joon asks who.

Cut to Ma Sung dialing Gi Bbeum.  The phone rings, but she immediately hangs up on him.  Baffled that she hung up on him, he calls back, only to hear her and Nan Joo’s drunken giggles.  The line goes dead again.

In their neighborhood, Gi Bbeum and Nan Joo stand in the street drunkenly singing off key.  As they sing, her family sits outside cooking more red gurnards and listening to the rucuss.  Dad wonders what could have gone wrong.  Suddenly, Gi Bbeum and Nan Joo appear in front of the family table.  “I’m a little drunk” Gi Bbeum announces.  Amidst their drunken ramblings, Nan Joo pulls out the contract to show them.

As one her family asks excitedly if she is going to sign.  But Gi Bbeum slurs out “Nope.”  She then tries to dip a red gurnard in red chili pepper sauce, but ends up dropping the whole mess on top of the contract, smearing it in red.

Later that night, Gi Bbeum watches her family, and Nan Joo, peacefully sleeping.  After tip-toeing outside, she stands in the lamplight and again looks at her contract.  For a moment she fantasizes about signing it, even acting out the roles of manager and star.   As part of her story she signs the contract.  “This is good enough for me,” she tells herself and tucks the contract into the recycling pile.

At his home Ma Sung waters his new lettuce plants and wonders why it is that Gi Bbeum won’t answer his calls.  As he does, he accidently bumps into a cupboard causing the door to pop open.  Peering inside he discovers an old cassette walkman and headphones, and on the very bottom shelf a pair of perfect red shoes — the shoes he bought Gi Bbeum on their perfect day.

At the same moment at her home, Gi Bbeum presses play on an old cassette player.  The music gentley slips from the player — the song she sang on their perfect day.  Ma Sung too has hit play on the cassette walkman, and hears the same song.  Inexplicably, he begins to cry.

My Thoughts:

Although Ma Sung still not telling Gi Bbeum about his amnesia is really starting to annoy me, I also think that the drama is being pretty accurate when it comes to how someone in his position might act.  We know that he identifies himself as someone with dementia, so he sees himself as defective, broken.  He probably feels self-concious and insecure about his mental problem, so it is only natural that he would want to hide it from as many people as possible.  He doesn’t want to be pitied or treated differently — especially by the person he is growing to like.  And while we can see that he is causing her confusion and damaging their relationship, he can’t.

However, it feels like this story would make a lot more sense if they would just give us more of the backstory.  We can sense that Auntie is evil, but we have no idea why.  Was she responsible for Ma Sung’s parents’ deaths?  Did she have something to do with his accident three years ago?  Why is she so threatened by her nephew that she has to watch his every move?  It feels like the writer is trying to be clever by giving us only snippets of backstory, but she hasn’t even given us enough to know what is going on!

And for Pete’s sake, WHY is Ma Sung’s doctor telling her every single piece of confidential information?  I initially liked how supportive and kind he was to Ma Sung, but that man is bad news.  Does Ma Sung have no one on his side?

So what do you think of Devilish Joy Episode 3?  What do you love? What is driving you crazy?

Related:

Last Episode: Recap: Devilish Joy Episode 2

Next Episode: Coming Soon!

Devilish Joy Episode 3 Recap Although they still have a lot more growing to do, Gi Bbeum and Ma Sung finally start to reconnect in this episode.