#worried about grades and jobs because there’s a lot less money at home now but my brothers won’t cut back so i have to

[deadandwalking]

if teenage years are the best years of my life why am i apologising to the little girl in my head why am i fearing my family falling apart why am i failing to accept my bio family are not good for me why am i worried about grades and jobs and life why am i preparing to mourn my best friend why am i fearing growing old why do i miss what i never had why do i miss people who don’t miss me why am i disgusted by my own urges, wants and needs why do i cry over the things i love the most why do i seek comfort in fiction because reality is against me why do i fear the touch i crave why do i feel i am dying

[aicaptures]

Twice "Ready to Be" - My first ever concert experience!

October 1, 2023 - I attended my first ever concert. The whole experience was exhilarating, fun, and my voice was hoarse for a week but I'd happily do it all over again (I'll be getting a closer seat next time!)

FOR CONTEXT - I started liking K-pop way back 2013 when my friends performed I got a Boy by Girls Generation during our school's Foundation Day when we were in our third year high school. Even though I don't understand the lyrics, I think what got me hooked with it was the vibe, beat, and how powerful some K-pop songs were. My K-pop playlist is my go-to in Spotify whenever I need a booster whenever I feel sleepy or I need to get things done at work.

I have been a Badminton player ever since I was in fifth grade. My parents are also Badminton players and they greatly influenced me to play the sport. My parents are members of a Badminton group where majority of the other members are their friends. It was only me and another kid that belonged to the "younger members" list but there was a time where we met a group of teenagers in the Badminton court where we usually go to. They played with us and then we invited them to join our group and they gladly accepted. In that group, I met my so-called "Badminton crush" (but this is all in the past now, okay? Haha) and one time during our quarterly Badminton tournament, he brought his own speakers and played Heart Shaker by Twice while I was warming up before my game. I saw him dancing the steps while laughing with his friends and found it cute that's why I got curious about the song and the artist and that's how I started to know and liked Twice. I think this was around 2019-2020?

And by the way, my bias in Twice (favorite singer or band member in an idol group) is Dahyun but I love the other members too!

FAST FORWARD - February 2023, JYP Entertainment announced that Twice will be having their third world tour and Philippines is included in their Southeast Asia stops. I got excited because the last time that they came to the Philippines, I was not able to secure a ticket. I just felt happy that they are coming back here and I wondered if I can go to their concert but also feared that I cannot be able to because my parents would be angry with me if they knew that I bought a concert ticket (I don't hate them for that but I grew up not having most of what I wanted when I was younger because for them it is a waste of money).

Early June 2023, I got the news that I will be laid off. I was so lost that time because I have no plans of resigning from my position any time soon because I was actually supposed to be trained for a promotion but unfortunately, they had to hire people from a different agency which meant that they had to let some people go to make room for those and I was one of them.

I received what they called a "retirement package" or compensation for the employees that got laid off. It was enough to last me for a bit (This is considering all my bills for a month and it could easily last me for at least 6-8 months if ever I don't get a job quickly) so I started considering buying a ticket. I had the money that time but I am worried to go alone because it was my first time so there are a lot of things that I do not know yet. I don't know if it was fate (but maybe it was) because my bestfriend Lolyn told me that she wants to go to the concert too. Now both of my problems are resolved - I have money and someone to go to the concert with.

The ticket selling for their show on September 30 was scheduled last June 15. I was having my PC professionally cleaned that time so I queued at exactly 10 am in the shop using my cellular data for the ticket selling but I got placed 64000th. I already lost hope because I think in less than an hour the concert was already declared sold out.

After I got home, I saw in Facebook that they will be having another show on October 1 and another round of ticket selling for it last June 16. Lolyn and I came up with several ideas on how we can get tickets - we contacted someone to help us find a valid session link and they will give it to us (It's not illegal but for those that were able to get into the website early, their session is still valid for I think 10 minutes and they can share it with other people so that they can buy tickets as well without having to queue) and then we queued on all our available devices.

June 16 came and then I asked my sisters (they're twins, by the way) to help me out. It was nerve-wracking because every link that we tried always cuts off midway due to network traffic but luckily, the session that was on my PC went through and I immediately got 2 tickets for me and Lolyn. I was crying that time because I was nervous as heck and then I laughed it off after I received the online receipt because it was a success!

D-DAY - Concert day came and I wasn't able to get some sleep hahaha. I went to Lolyn's house because her sister is going to drive us there. There were four of us attending - Lolyn, me, her sister, and their family friend. I bought their light stick or "Candybong" (the name of the Twice' light stick), their only official merch that I have. We got to the venue early because we aimed to get a good parking spot. We got some food from Burger King in the gas station near the venue (Philippine Arena in Bocaue, Bulacan) and then we ate it in the car after settling down. The doors are scheduled to open at 5pm (if I remember correctly) because the show will start at 6pm. After eating and then staying in the car until around 3pm, we decided to go out and line up. We got a bit lost because there's so many Onces in the venue but we eventually found where we need to line up. While on the line, there were a lot of Onces with freebies so we got some! We got stickers, bracelets, and headbands!

CONCERT EXPERIENCE - The whole 3 hours that they were performing, I was always shouting. I can hear my seatmates laughing because of loud I was but I can't help it hahaha. Every member performed their special numbers and there were also parts where they performed as a group or by threes (since there are nine Twice members in total). Aside from shouting, I sang my heart out, jumped, participated in the wave (there's this thing with K-pop concerts where they start a wave using their light sticks and the crowd will follow), caught some confettis as souvenir, and took lots and lots of pictures and videos.

There are times that I felt the whole arena moving with us as we jump hahahaha and its definitely one of those moments where I felt the most alive. I was so happy being a part of that ocean that day.

Thank you, Twice!

In the next post, I'll share some pictures and clips of me that day!

[nerves-nebula]

no worries about rambling! There was a time period where I had a few more voices and (not saying it's the same) I miss mine too. I'm pretty sure we got like this out of loneliness too, we never really fit in growing up (to a more extreme way.

We spent majority of our time alone and it was common for us to spend days to weeks at school without saying more than a word or two. At one of the schools I was at after a year of bullying the next grade thought I was mute :/)

Goals idk they are hard to set? For me at least anyways. The other guy really wants us to go into animation or psychology, and like I know I'd enjoy that, but I also know we don't have the money. We weren't exactly helped into any post secondary and it would take a long time to get the money for it so it remains more a "what if" than a "one day" sort of thing.

I admittedly aim low and just want to survive, I don't really have goals beyond that (idk why). That stance will probably and maybe has left us with less opportunities though so ?? If we lived where we used to there was a really epic and not horribly expensive animation program we could have done but where we are now it's all either super expensive or not worth the money.

hmm other life goals is hard because we were forced to rely on ourselves a lot, including like for friends, family, parents, teachers, etc? We never found a group of people we fit into and we have trust issues so it's a challenge there lol (at best we were tolerated, but pretty much got bullied in the different schools and our home life was questionable). So like we've never thought too much about goals past "what will the next day bring and will we survive it".

Plus it is so much easier being friends with your head partner than it is to try and make friends IRL when it's practically impossible LMAO

However..

we both agree that it would be nice to move out from where we are now (ran away to some random place lol) but I take more of a stance of "it would be nice but idk" while my head partner is more like "I am filled with a deep and unending desire to reshape reality to get the hell out of here" so that might answer your question in a way??

(to add, we aren't in a terrible situation. Just renting a room from some creepy guy plus whatever the hell the local parts of the ""family"" has going on).

IDK if I have DID specifically but we're making it work. We do need to get more food soon though so if you have recs for easy things to make feel free to share haha (half joking, you don't have to!!)

THAT is actually completely fair. FUNFACT about me: I'm dead set on graphic design now, but before my mom forced me to apply to colleges, I desperately wanted to learn how to wrap cars. I had a graphic design internship and at one point they brought us to this local design company and they talked about all these specific niche jobs and ONE of these jobs was wrapping cars.

as in, like, applying decals and full body car wraps and shit. I really like the idea of learning a trade/skill like that and just doing THAT as a job instead of. this whole big conceptual graphic design stuff. Plus the course cost a couple thousand and compared to college that's. WELL. That's a fantastic price to be fully certified in a job!

downside would be working with Car People which isn't great cuz I'm trans and I PLAN to be visibly transgender for a long time so. that prolly wouldn't have been great.

but i didn't have a choice so im in DEBT now instead :) but its not really that bad. I like my college, it's a really good school and i love the professors. I just also like to COMPLAIN.

nobody thought I was mute when I joined high school but I would often go entire days without speaking hah. I also got bullied but didn't realize it was bullying until later hah.

and because I couldn't just make up friends in my mind, I instead focused on my characters becoming friends with each other. escapism and all that.

man idk about food. I just raided my college's food pantry for mac & cheese on the way out though so maybe that? Mac & cheese, various noodles are also pretty cheap, and so is soup. idk I kind of dont like food though (I have avoidant restrictive food intake disorder lol) so I mostly eat heavily processed or very bland food.

oh, another question! Which one of y'all is in charge most of the time? Is it a voice in your head situation, or can y'all actually switch who controls your body?

[matchayogitea]

Suspicious Minds

Steve has had enough of Hawkins and Reader's parents. So he suggests the most logical thing: eloping!

"Steve?"

You found him sitting by the pool, jeans rolled up, legs dipped in water. Normally that scene would have struck you as odd - he hadn't really enjoyed using the pool after Barb's disappearance, and finding out about the Upside Down and all that jazz - but right then you were too shook to really pay attention.

"Hey, Y/N, I didn't think you'd come over today." Steve looked up at you as you walked closer and his smile fell. "What's wrong? What happened?" He quickly got to his feet and gently placed his hands on your shoulders.

"Do I look that bad?" You tried to joke.

He shook his head. "No, you're beautiful. Always. But... you look like you've been crying."

You could see it in his warm brown eyes, all the love and worry he felt for you. You could see it in the slight frown on his forehead, and you could feel it in his grip.

"I..." You inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. You did not want to start crying again. "I had a fight with my parents."

"How bad was it?" You knew the implication behind the unsaid words. How bad was it this time? was what he had really meant to ask, but he clearly didn't want to rub salt in the wound.

"Bad enough. They got mad because I got a D in math, and they said I need to study more and they blamed it on-on us. I tried telling them a million times that math is just hard for me, it's always been and I hate it, but they don't listen. They don't care if every other grade is an A..." you paused. "I need to leave. I can't take this anymore..."

Steve didn't reply, not immediately. He enveloped you in his arms and held you tight, placing gentle kisses on your hair. You closed your eyes and instantly felt better, enjoying his proximity, his enticing scent.

"My father slapped me." You couldn't believe you'd said it out loud, and when you saw the anger in Steve's eyes you wished you hadn't told him.

"He what?"

"He was angry. I don't think it was because of me really, he had a bad day and he was tense and... I don't know." you muttered reluctantly, half-trying to excuse your father, half-wanting to disappear. You felt like a failure. Your parents always made you feel like a failure, no matter what, and you were exhausted.

Steve pulled away from you and took a deep breath, then another. "Ok, I wanted to wait until you graduated since it's less than two months away..."

You listened, wondering where he was going with that.

"But I might as well tell you now. I thought about this a lot. I don't want to keep working in Family Video and waste my life away. I don't want to stay in Hawkins. The only reason I'm still here is because you're one year younger or- or I would have left already. With you, I mean."

You were starting to get confused. "Leave and go where?"

"Let's elope, Y/N. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to go on adventures with you, I want to travel all over the country and-and maybe the world someday. But for now we both want, we both need, to get out of here."

You thought you were dreaming. No, not even in your wildest dreams you'd ever imagines Steve asking you to leave him. To elope.

That was wild.

"I... I know you're upset, but I don't want you to say things you don't mean-"

"I do mean it! I've saved some money, working and living at home, and I know you have savings from your part-time job as well. That'll do for renting a place somewhere and we'll get jobs wherever we end at and-"

"But Steve... I wanted to go to college." you reminded him softly, feeling guilty, almost.

"And I'll be with you. I'll work full time, and you can work part time if you can manage, but you won't need to. I'll take care of you. And then when you graduate and you get a great job I can be a dead beat boyfriend for a few years to make up for it." He joked. That made you smile. "You could never be a dead beat boyfriend."

"Then let's do it. We'll wait till graduation, and then we'll pack up and leave." He leant down to kiss you, once, twice, and soon you forgot everything except Steve and his soft lips and his warmth. "Isn't it romantic? We can get married on a beach somewhere, or- or even Las Vegas if you want to, I will never get your love for Elvis but I am such a great boyfriend I'm willing to get hitched in a chapel in Vegas with an Elvis impersonator standing by if it makes you happy!" He stepped back, pretending to sing in an imaginary microphone. "We're caught in a trap, I can't walk out because I love you too much, baby!"

You finally laughed, the first real laugh of the day, hell, maybe of the week.

As Steve kept serenading you, singing Suspicious Minds and imitating Elvis' moves, you realized you had zero reasons to say no to him. Nothing else made sense in the world, except being with him. You could have lost him so many times - to the Mind Flayer, to Vecna - but both of you had made it out. Did you really want to push him away when you'd realized, at just 18, how fragile life was?

"Let's elope, Steve Harrington."

He stopped wiggling and singing and looked at you wide-eyed, then proceeded to smother you in kisses all over. "Yes! I'll make you happy, I swear!"

"We'll make each other happy," you corrected him with a small smile, finally feeling like everything was going to be alright.

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

[edie-baby]

baby girls - chapter two | lando norris

Chapter Two: Perhaps

summary: What's the best way to tell the guy you like that you have a kid? Well, lying about it and making him think you're cheating isn't the best tactic, Mila's about to find that out the hard way.

word count: 1650

warnings: swearing, absentee father (the asshole ex has evolved)

last chapter

Dreaming of a perfect man while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until the dream ended, and Mila was forced back into reality by the wails of her daughter coming from the next room, the heartbreaking sound kicked Mila’s motherly instincts into high gear, her sleep-addled brain coming into a laser sharp focus within a split second.

“Hey baby girl, what’s going on?” Mila spoke, scooping Mahri into her arms with practiced ease. Mahri’s sobs quieted almost instantaneously, her tears still tracking down her face with a vengeance. Mila tried wiping the tears away, but they were replaced just as quickly.

“It’s okay, just breathe bubs. Whatever’s making you upset, we can fix. It’s all good.” Mila whispered, bouncing Mahri around the room as it had calmed her down when she was just a baby.

“I want Daddy.” Mahri cried, and Mila could have collapsed at the weight of the words the toddler had said. There was a large hole in both of their lives in the exact shape and size of Mahri’s father. Once high school sweethearts, now sworn enemies.

As much as Mila tried to block out all thoughts and feelings related to Mahri’s dad, she couldn’t blame the kid for missing a man Mila herself found missing sometimes. Matyas was Mila’s first love, her boyfriend since 8th grade, and her best friend since kindergarten. They had grown up side by side, acknowledging they had crushes on each other in their second year of high school, and having a baby together by the second last.

Matyas and Mila, contrary to most’s predictions, had stayed together through her pregnancy, and even for a while after Mahri was born. Matyas would bring all of Mila’s schoolwork home and help her work through assessments while she was pregnant, and once Mahri was born, they alternated taking days off school to babysit when members of their family couldn’t.

But something Mila had never admitted to others was that Matyas was an asshole, only kicking into higher gear once they had both finished school. Mila had an acceptance letter for university and a part time job lined up, whilst Matyas hadn’t even bothered looking, preferring to use the excuse of ‘I have a child’ to stop him from venturing into the adult world. Despite this, cooking, cleaning, and looking after the baby was Mila’s job, obviously because she was the woman, the mother.

When Mila finally decided to end her toxic relationship with her lifelong best friend, she was villainized for it. Her parents and friends blamed her for tearing her own family apart, whilst her older siblings were more than supportive, having accidentally witnessed Matyas’ less than desirable traits. Up until about six months ago, Matyas would visit regularly, taking Mahri for her swimming classes, and playing with her at the park, occasionally taking her for the day to save Mila some money on daycare.

However, much like any tale of a teenager, Matyas was single and lonely, and a barrier to being in a relationship was the fact that he had become a father at seventeen. It wasn’t exactly a big check mark next to his name, so when he had told Mila he needed to move on, find someone special, she didn’t anticipate that meant moving on from his daughter. Six months with no contact was the longest Mahri had ever gone without seeing her father, and it was the longest Mila had ever gone without seeing him. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell Mahri, who looked at Matyas as though he hung the stars, that her father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Yet as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, Mahri’s cries for her dad became all the more heartbreaking.

“I know, baby girl. But he’s on holiday, remember? He’s having lots of fun in Limbo.” Mila lied, continuing to rock her daughter in her arms, heart feeling heavy as stone at the blatant lies she was forced to tell her daughter just because her ex-boyfriend was a coward.

“I want a new daddy.” Mahri whispered, giving up on keeping her head up, preferring to let it fall heavily onto her mum’s shoulder. Mila couldn’t help but chuckle silently, the unfiltered, mumbled by age, words that her daughter came out with sometimes were what kept Mila going. With a few more bounces, Mila was sure her daughter had fallen back into a deep slumber and moved to lay her back in the small bed, covered with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

Mahri’s words echoed in Mila’s head, and as she reached for her phone to send yet another unanswered text to Matyas, Lando’s face appeared on her screen, an incoming FaceTime call that was as daunting as it was exciting. Mila looked over her shoulder, listening for any movement from Mahri before she answered the call, setting her phone against the toaster on the kitchen counter as she began brewing some coffee. It was nearing five in the morning, and knowing she would be usually waking up in an hour and a half meant it was going to be a caffeine fueled day.

“Hey baby boy.” Mila spoke a moment after the call had connected, looking down at the phone to see Lando’s tired face, snuggled up in bed with a small smile on his face. His smile only growing when he heard the fond nickname fall from Mila’s lips.

“Hi love. Why are you making coffee? It’s so late.” Lando mumbled, squinting to get a better look at what Mila was doing in front of him. His eyes devoured her figure, a large tshirt covering the tops of her thighs, and from what he could see, or lack thereof, she wasn’t wearing pants.

“Actually, it’s early. It’s a bit past five at the moment.” Mila replied, giggling at the way Lando seemed entranced by the view of her bare skin, smiling fondly when he snapped out of the trance at the sound of her joy.

“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” Lando almost shrieked, the volume of it causing Mila to startle forward, pressing incessantly at the buttons on her phone to lower the sound, checking over her shoulder paranoid that the gorgeous Brit had woken her barely sleeping baby.

“Oh, sorry. Do you have someone over?” Lando mumbled, looking crestfallen as he recognised the anxious look on Mila’s face. He couldn’t have been so naive to think that a woman as gorgeous as her wouldn’t have company on a Friday night - Saturday morning for her - and it had been about four days since they had spoken, he should have known.

“Uh, kind of. But no, but yes. Fuck.” Mila cursed, trying to find the right way to tell Lando that, yes, indeed she was worried he had woken someone up, but no, it wasn’t the kind of someone he was thinking of. She watched as Lando gulped, his mind spiralling with images of Mila with someone else, and although he had seen it in Austria, it hurt to know that their week together hadn’t meant as much to her as it did him.

“That’s alright. I’ll, um, let you get back to that, I guess. I’m sorry I called.” Lando muttered, moving to end the call when Mila panicked, the thought of hurting the man she was falling in love with had overridden her fears of him freaking out over the fact that she came with a lot more baggage than initially thought.

“I’ll call you later, baby boy, I promise. I want to talk to you, now just isn’t really a good time. I’m sorry.” Mila’s voice was trembling, she could see Lando’s want to get out of the conversation and never speak to her again, and it was the very last thing she wanted.

“It’s fine, you have your own life. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” Lando finished, his voice curt and clipped, but Mila could very clearly see the hurt hidden beneath the thin veil. She felt a piece of her heart break at the sight, knowing she was not only lying to him, but also causing him pain whilst she did so made her question whether it was really worth it hiding the little ball of energy in the next room.

Before Mila could reply, the call cut out, and she was left staring at the photo of herself, Victoria, and the twitch quartet on her lockscreen, something she had changed to remind herself of the amazing week she spent with some new lifelong friends.

Mila unlocked her phone, desperate to get away from the look she and Lando gave each other, preferring to admire her home screen, a photo from hers and Mahri’s most recent adventure to the park, Mahri laughing her ass off at Mila, who was very scaredly looking at the flock of geese running toward them while she took the photo.

Of course she had to give birth to a sadist, and if she was honest, she’d take that over the obvious masochistic trait she had been born with. The conversation with Lando replayed in her mind a million times, part of her wondering why she couldn’t just own the fuck up and tell him she had a kid. It wasn’t like she was telling him she wanted kids with him, or that he already had a kid, fuck if he didn’t want to, she probably wouldn’t introduce him to Mahri for years.

Yes, Mahri was her number one priority, but she couldn’t live her entire life for her child. She was nineteen, a gorgeous woman, and she deserved to be loved. Perhaps she could live her life with her child, and perhaps with someone else too.

But after today? She wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to even try.

[gojo-x-reader]

Confessions in a Drunken Night

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of sex (not related to drinking), getting drunk, job stress

Tags: communication is key

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2k

Request:   “ Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I have read your scenarios and I fell in love with them They are so cute and adorable . If you take a request would you mind taking mine. About a f/reader who is depressed about her job pressure and Gojo not being home lately so she would be drinking at home not knowing that Gojo had arrived and was sleeping and he would wake up because of sound and he would find her saoul , and he would try to make up with her , with a lot of fluff please , thank you .”

You heard the door hurriedly slam from the other room and sighed. This was the third time just this week alone that date night was interrupted with you and your boyfriend, Satoru. Every time, he promised that nothing would come up, but every time something did. You didn’t understand why exactly his job was so important for him to just leave like that. He was just a high school teacher. 

You sighed again, then picked up the uneaten dinner you cooked for the both of you. You placed the food in containers for later, if there was a later with him. You might end up eating both portions by yourself. You finished up cleaning up the romantic date you had prepared, now incredibly sad and frustrated. 

You started pouring yourself a glass of whiskey. You weren’t a fan of the stuff straight, but tonight seemed like the night to drink. How many hours of overtime did you put in this week just to try to have an evening off to spend with your boyfriend? How much sleep did you lose just to stay ahead? How many times did your boss scoff because you asked off not one night, but three nights this week? You’d be lucky if you could get another night off in a month after this week. 

You sipped on the whiskey, cherishing the warmth it brought to your core. You grabbed the bottle and glass and took them the to couch. The whiskey bottle was less than halfway finished; might as well finish it tonight. You lounged on the couch as you brought the glass to your lips and reminisced about your relationship with Satoru.

You had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t feel like it. You were practically in a long-distance relationship, despite only living twenty minutes from each other with how scarce you got to see him. He was always busy on “business trips” or whatever for his job. The thought that he was cheating on you crossed your mind a time or two, but Satoru didn’t seem like the type. 

The two of you met in your favorite bakery just down the street. You had fought over the last piece of tiramisu, which he eventually gave you in exchange for your number. He was incredibly easy to talk to and within a few weeks, the two of you were going on your first date. He was suave, but you soon learned that was just a front he put up. The true Gojo Satoru was a dork with an almost insufferable personality that somehow you were able to stand. 

You were sure that in the year you had been dating, you had only gone on three successful dates with Satoru and well over fifteen attempted dates. The three successful dates all had a special place in your heart.

The first successful date was your first date. It was a cozy café date followed by a nice walk through the nooks and crannies of Tokyo you never saw on your work commute. You remembered how you gained the confidence to hold Satoru’s hand on the first date, only feeling like there was a literal wall between you two for a few seconds. It was strange, but it was the only incident, so you never brought it up to him. 

The second successful date was a few months later with another failed attempt in between the first and second. This one was a trip to a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. This was the date you learned that your boyfriend was loaded. Not just well off, but rich enough he could spend a couple hundred thousand Yen and it was just pocket change to him. Somehow, the reveal left more questions than answered them; namely, how did he become so rich with a teacher’s salary? Was he part of some kind of Old Money or something?

 He never told you where you were dining, so of course, you dressed like it was a casual outing. Before heading to the restaurant, he bought you a dress that was worth more than two years of your yearly salary (against your protests). It was a gorgeous dress, in your favorite color. It still hung in your closet; while you wanted to sell it for some extra money, you didn’t want to upset Satoru. 

The third and final successful date was your first anniversary. Neither of you wanted to go out, so you both stayed in. The two of you cooked dinner together; you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Satoru had a talent for cooking and wanted to taste more of his cooking. He insisted you were a much better cook than him, but you disagreed. 

After dinner, one thing led to another until you were swept off your feet literally to the bedroom. 

You smiled fondly at the memories of your first time together. It was only two months ago, but nothing had happened since then even though you desperately wanted a repeat of your anniversary tonight. Ah, you remembered why you were drinking. You swallowed the rest of the whiskey in your glass, grimacing as it burned in your throat.

You were already tipsy after one glass. You were a lightweight; you were sure you would be shit-faced before the end of this bottle. Satoru never drank, yet he always had the audacity to make fun of how much of a lightweight you were. 

Who knows how long passed before you finally swallowed the last drop of whiskey. At that point, you were fighting your eyelids that were trying to close. Without Satoru there to entertain you as you were tipsy, you became a tired drunk. You just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to leave the couch. If you got up, you’d probably stumble and fall back anyway. So, you grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and wrapped yourself around it.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over you right as you closed your eyes. You missed Satoru, desperately. It felt physically painful being away from him at the moment. You brought a hand up to your eyes and wiped them, rolling over and finally going to sleep for good. 

You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your form. You groaned. Your head was pounding from dehydration, you were still sleepy from the alcohol; who dared interrupt your sleep?

You blinked a few times to find Satoru and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. He appeared slightly worried, but also tired.

“Time?” you asked, not even forming coherent sentences yet.

“Almost 3am,” Satoru answered.

You groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Does it matter?” you snapped back. You then realized how hostile you sounded, then started crying. “Please don’t be mad at me,” you said between hiccups. 

Satoru took you into his arms, soothingly rubbing your back to calm you down. You suddenly felt worse because you were a mess, just because he left for an emergency with work? Pathetic. 

Your sweet, incredible boyfriend helped you slowly sit up, then obtained a glass of water for you to drink. You chugged it, not even realizing how thirsty you were. Satoru refilled it for you, urging you to instead sip the water. 

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“...Nothing,” you answered.

“Nothing? I come home to find my girlfriend passed out on the couch drunk off her ass and sad. You’re upset, and I want us to work through this. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” you admitted. 

“Obviously.”

“I don’t feel like you--” hic “--love me as much anymore. You keep leaving during our dates, you don’t spend much time with me anymore, and my job is just so stressful because I keep having to work overtime to get days off and I doubt I can get another day off for a month now. That just makes me so fucking sad because I wanna see you every day but I can’t--” 

Satoru gently placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze was filled with so much love it rendered you speechless. “That all?” he asked. You nodded.

Satoru tenderly placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” he admitted. Suddenly, your brain raced through all of the possibilities, fixating on the idea he was cheating on you. Oh, no, here it comes… 

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Excuse me?”

That was not at all what you were expecting. What did that even mean?

Satoru backed away. “Here, try to grab my hand.”

You reached out to him, feeling the familiar wall like you did on your first date. “Oh!”

“This is Infinity,” he explained. “As you get closer to me, you slow down, unable to reach me. It’s a jujutsu passed down through my family.”

“I think I’ve felt it before. On our first date.”

Satoru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I always keep my Infinity going at all times, 24/7, even when I’m asleep. I only let down my guard around you because I trust you with my life.”

“So. What does this all mean? What else are you keeping a secret? Your job too?”

“No, I really am a high school teacher. For the first years, to be exact. The bunch this year are… interesting to say the least. So I’ve been having to stay late to train them, and I actually do go on business trips. A lot of them are overseas.” 

“What are they for?” You were now very invested in your boyfriend’s secret life he had been hiding from you all this time.

“We exorcise curses.”

“Curses?”

“The evil beings of the jujutsu world. I have to go on more missions than the average person because I’m one of the very few Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers in the world. It’s the highest rank a jujutsu sorcerer can reach. And your boyfriend is the strongest in the world.”

“Are you really, or are you self-proclaimed?” you asked, knowing his personality. Satoru pouted. You pinched one of his cheeks gently, then dragged his face to your lips, pressing them against his cheek. “I’m just kidding.”

“I really am the strongest, though,” Satoru continued to pout. “Anyway! I think it’s time for us to sleep. Tomorrow, I can take you to see my school and you can meet my students!”

“Really?” you asked, excited. Finally, your boyfriend was allowing you into the part of his world you were always curious about.

“Really,” he promised. 

You yawned. The sun was just starting to peek through your windows. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to your room. You weren’t quite sober and made sure to warn Satoru about that, lest he moved you too fast and caused you to throw up on the two of you. 

(“It wouldn’t get on me, though,” Satoru argued. “I can just activate my Infinity and I’ll stay clean.”)

Satoru tucked you into your bed, then made his way to your side. You were actually kind of glad you decided to get drunk tonight, as the liquid courage gave you the confidence to speak your mind to your boyfriend instead of keeping your feelings inside like usual. Tonight, you learned a side of your boyfriend you never thought existed. It brought you relief and curiosity to learn more about him and his life. 

But for now, you needed sleep. Meeting part of Satoru’s world could wait until tomorrow. 

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Soft Eddie thought: the first time he mentions Buck in passing as 'my husband' and then all of a sudden it hits him for the first time that, holy shit, he has a *husband*! And either tears up a little or can't stop smiling.

Hey Nonny, I hope you see this, I know it’s been awhile. 

Subconsciously Drawn Together

911/Buddie

Eddie would never call what he feels a crush – after all, he’s a grown adult who hasn’t had a crush on anyone since Jenny Rodriguez broke his heart in eighth grade by picking Eugene as her lab partner instead of him. (Coincidentally, they are both married to someone named Makayla and neither of them lived outside of Texas for more than a few months).

He always thought that would be him. Not, married to Jenny or Eugene (or either Makayla for that matter), but there was a part of him that knew he was destined to live a quiet life. Marriage, children, maybe a dog and a white picket fence if they wanted to be really cliched. And he was okay with that – he really was. For Eddie, there was no other life than the one laid out for him.

Going to war didn’t change that. A poor country boy joining the military to provide for his pregnant wife back home? Even pulp fiction novelists thought it was too obvious. But, again, he never minded living an uninteresting life. Not everyone was destined for adventure and drama. Most people were made to get through the day.

Even when the nightmares came and he struggled to keep his family together, it just seemed like the next chapter in his boring novelization of a life. Everyone had marital troubles after coming home, everyone had bad dreams and phantom pains. Everyone worried where the money would come from to support their family. Everyone snuck into their son’s room to watch him sleep because they were afraid to admit that they’d forgotten what he looked like while he was away. Everyone felt guilt and shame and fear and regret. It was a part of life.

And then his wife left and his parents offered to take Christopher and for one moment, the thought crossed his mind. Could he let his son go (be with people who could stay at home and give him the care he needed)? Could he forget about Shannon and move somewhere else? Could he start over (relive his 20s in the carefree manner he’d seen others struggling to find)? Could he run away again and make it stick this time?

By the end of the week, he and Christopher were packed into his truck and headed to Los Angeles.

It didn’t feel like running away when he was mumbling his way through the Frozen soundtrack or listening to his son talk about his old school’s pet turtle that he’ll miss (and wonder what kind of pets the kids in Los Angeles got to have). It didn’t feel like running away then. It felt like they were running towards something.

Running towards a new life, of sorts, as it turned out. Sure, he still dealt with his parents’ criticism, and Shannon came back into their lives and for a moment, it felt like she’d never left him. But in LA, he had a purpose, he had freedom. For the first time in a long time, Eddie looked forward to opening his door in the mornings; for the first time in a long time, he never knew exactly what to expect, and LA was full of surprises.

The biggest surprise of all was named Evan Buckley.

Buck was a lot of things: a friend, a skilled firefighter, endearingly enthusiastic, subtle as a brick, and the first person outside of his real family that he called ‘family’ and truly meant it. He loved the men and women he served with in Afghanistan, but the moment they departed at the airport, he lost that connection. Joining the 118 had been a way to get that back and it had worked out fantastically. He had sports fanatics to cheer with, parents of blended families to vent with, people who knew his past and loved him despite it all.

Eddie never told anyone (except his therapist who never commented on it, but made a face that said they’d circle back to it at a later date), but he felt as though he’d known Buck for years. Once the man opened up to him, the trust he felt was strong, and the way he took an instant affection to Christopher made it easy to let this man into his life.

Within less than a year of joining the LA Fire Department however, his world imploded.

Or exploded, actually. First Shannon died, then Buck was injured, then his son was nearly taken by a natural disaster and he didn’t even know it. He spent so much time after that trying to put the pieces back together. For all the things he’d assumed his life would be – a wife and kid and a white picket fence – the only thing he had left was a son now dealing with immense trauma for such a young child to handle. And he had Buck (who was so bright and eager to please that one might describe him as a puppy at times). Nothing of his life had turned out the way it was meant to.

Suddenly, a year had passed since Shannon’s death and his life was still an unrecognizable sort of decagon shape instead of the standard cookie cutter circle. But none of that mattered because he was staring into bright brown eyes and a luminescent smile that was telling him that he was doing a wonderful job of raising Christopher on his own.

Others had been trying to tell him that for years (never the ones whose opinion meant to world to him, but he was learning to let that go) but that beautiful face was so sincere that he forgot himself. He forgot that he was a widow with a grieving son. He forgot the fear and regret that went along with the phantom pains when the weather turned cold. He forgot that he had failed in his ambition to live an entirely ordinary life. For a moment he thought: ‘when she smiles at me, I feel happy’.

He wanted to feel that way again.

There were several reasons that things just wouldn’t work out with Ana. For one: she was Christopher’s teacher, and even if it wasn’t against the rules, it still felt wrong. Two: he’d seen the moment she thought differently about him after he yelled at her at school. She was too professional and kind to say anything but even if it was possible, she was definitely no longer interested. The third reason was that he was a firefighter who worked insane hours and when he wasn’t at work, he was home with his son. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time for dating. Fourth: she wasn’t Buck.

That thought had been the one that kept him up at night. It had come to him while he stood in the shower, recounting his day, wondering how long he had until it would be time to pick up Christopher from school. He wasn’t feeling overly ambitious so he figured spaghetti and meatballs would be perfect for supper. He wondered what it would be like to cook for someone who wasn’t ten years old. Someone he could cook beside without having to keep a constant eye. There were times (in the early days with Shannon) where the two of them would cook together, do laundry, clean, do all the domestic things side by side. She had been insistent that they both learn to care for the house that they shared and he was happy to stand beside her in all things.

Remember to throw Buck’s gym clothes in the laundry next time he comes over. He keeps forgetting to throw them in his basket.

A simple little thought, really. He’d thought it before. His friend would leave his gym bag by the door for work and forget to empty it out when he went to do laundry. It was unlikely that anyone other than Eddie noticed the state of Buck’s clothes, but he’d been paying closer attention to him lately. Like how after the train derailment, his smile seemed easier; his shoulders relaxed more often – especially when he was with the 118 or Christopher. Buck seemed happy now that he’d gotten his closure from Abby.

He deserves to be happy. He makes me feel happy.

Buck did make him feel happy. The way he interacted with Christopher, the way he entrusted his son to this man without a second thought. But even when Christopher wasn’t around, Eddie enjoyed Buck’s company. Going to baseball games (dragging him, more like), sitting together when the crew went out for drinks after work. With Buck, he felt…

Safe.

Which wasn’t surprising, really. Buck was a kind man. Sweet and thoughtful. He put other’s first – just like Eddie does, he could hear Frank’s voice in his mind – and cared deeply about the people in his life. Not to mention, he was physically a very strong figure. In some other life, he and Buck met on the wrestling circuit but never fought. Him: with his MMA, and Buck: with his Greco-Roman Wrestling. With those broad shoulders and firm arms, he wouldn’t mind being pulled into a stronghold once or twice.

He knew Buck was conventionally attractive from the day they met. There was no hiding the sharp blue eyes or curly blond hair and rounded jaw.

Nothing like Ana.

Another correct statement that still seemed ominous in context. Why was he comparing Buck to Ana – or Shannon, for that matter? It wasn’t fair to compare friends to lovers. Although, Buck did fit into several categories on both sides.

Buck was a loyal friend, caring and trustworthy. He made Eddie and Christopher feel safe and loved. He wanted to do Buck’s laundry. He thought he was attractive. Slowly, one side of the column began to build in size.

Perhaps Buck was a bigger part of Eddie’s life than he realized. He hadn’t thought seriously about dating anyone until Ana and that never felt right but Buck…

Buck always felt right. Like he belonged with them. Like he’d known them all his life.

Could it be that Eddie wanted something other than friendship? Had he been climbing the wrong ladder all this time only to find himself at the top with no way across? After all: Buck had never given any indication that he was romantically interested in Eddie.

Though, to be fair, Eddie had given no indication either.

But that was because he’d just figured it out. Surely Buck had some idea that best friends didn’t act the way they did. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he wasn’t interested, in any way, with Eddie. Could he forget it and go back to the way things were? Now that his fingers seemed to tingle with the new realization, could he take it back? Could he put those feelings in a box until someone else came along?

Would there be anyone else?

What did he want to happen with Buck?

Kissing him, for starters, might be interesting. Those plump, pink lips exploring his entire body. Having someone in his bed every night would be nice – and not just anyone, but someone who understood his work and the stressors of the day. If anyone was going to stand by his side while he freaked out about Christopher going on his first date, it should be Buck. Next to Eddie, that man was the most protective when it came to that little boy. He’d only seen it once or twice but Eddie knew that Buck looked good in a suit. Would he look even better in a tux? Years from now, when he retired from the LAFD, it would be nice to feel the weight of a ring on his finger, knowing he had someone he loved waiting at home.

Oh.

Oh damn.

Eddie’s shower ran a little bit longer than expected that day.

That simple thought had sent him on a spiral two weeks ago and every night that he struggled to fall asleep, he found himself rolling to the empty side of the bed, wondering what it would be like to wake up next to his best friend.

The conclusion he inevitably came to: it would be wonderful.

If the worlds aligned, of course. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his sudden, escalating realization (not even Frank). There was no way to know if Buck reciprocated his feelings in any way. Though he knew with uncanny certainty that he would be safe to confess his feelings without fear of losing his relationship entirely, it still seemed safer to gather more information before making any sort of move.

I’m safe with Buck no matter what.

So, no. Eddie would not describe what he felt for Buck as a simple ‘crush’.

It was everything.

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

The accident scene was a mess. It always was. They so rarely rolled up on an event that was neatly organized – not that it would make him any less stressed or worried for the safety of his patients. It was his job to worry, to be surrounded by chaos. Perhaps that was his new normal now, and his idea of an ordinary life had shifted to one that involved heavier boots.

There was still a sense of satisfaction and ease, knowing that he got to go home to his son every night, that he was helping people, and there were people in his life who loved and supported him. Unlike his old army mates (as strong as those relationships were), he also knew that if he woke up and decided to be a baker instead of a firefighter, the 118 would still treat him as one of their own.

Perhaps ‘baker’ wasn’t the best example, baking had never been one of his favourite activities. A florist, or a construction worker, maybe. Firefighting meant a lot to him but it wasn’t his calling – the way it was for his… for Buck. How would the man react if one day, Eddie told him that they would no longer be partners in work? There was no doubt in his mind that Buck would still be over on Thursday nights with pizza and video games. And perhaps if Eddie was working more regular hours, he could go over to Buck’s on occasion and make dinner for the three of them. That would be a nice surprise. Buck would smile that impossibly bright smile and open his arms to Christopher, swinging the boy around gently because he was overly cautious about roughhousing with him – something that only made Eddie’s heart beat faster. Then, Buck would make his way over to Eddie and kiss him with a sort of reverence; like he can’t quite believe that Eddie’s real. He could rest assured that the feeling was mutual.

What a ridiculously outdated fantasy. He’d clearly grown up watching too much ‘I Love Lucy’.

The firefighter shook his head as he hopped out of the truck, turning his thoughts towards the work at hand.

That was something he’d always been good at: focus and calm under pressure. It was what had made becoming a firefighter so appealing. Sure, being a combat medic meant he was more than qualified for field rescues, but all that stoic strength he possessed was better used at work rather than at home. At home, he could be Christopher’s dad. At work, he was Firefighter Diaz.

There was no room for fantasies in Firefighter Diaz’s mind.

The chaos of the accident mostly consisted of cries of pain from passengers trapped in their vehicles as they tried in vain to free themselves before the qualified company could arrive. It wasn’t uncommon to come across a major pile up in the middle of the day, when Angelenos weren’t kept at a complete standstill, and impatient drivers were a staple of life in the LAFD.

Eddie took his orders from Bobby, clearing a path of bystanders for the heavy equipment, and assisting those who were stuck somewhere between freeing themselves and receiving a particularly crude hemicorporectomy. For all the noise, it was a relatively calm affair. Sure, some were screaming and crying – and one woman definitely threw a fit when told to climb out the passenger-side window of her shattered vehicle. But those in need of help received the assistance they required, and the worst injury they encountered was a broken rib and neck bruise from a young man who remained conscious throughout his entire extraction.

It was messy, it was chaotic, it was loud, but it was all right. There were still a few people with minor concussions and bloody wounds that could hopefully be tended to at the scene (most of them unwilling to take the ambulance ride if it wasn’t strictly necessary). He was admittedly a little hyper-focused today, his mind fighting the urge to wander away from its regular duties. Eddie chided himself for feeling so lovesick at work. He’d gone all this time loving Buck, he could handle a few more hours. It was that hyper focus which would be his undoing.

“All right, I think you’re going to be just fine. Head on over to my husband over there and he’ll get you some gauze for your arm.”

An innocent enough sentence – one that didn’t register in his mind through the haze of moving from one patient to the next – but one that only fed into that dangerous fantasy of his.

“What did you call Buck?”

And one that Chimney had apparently heard loud and clear.

Eddie blinked, as he kept his eyes trained on the man before him (some poor bystander who’d bumped his head when he’d stumbled backwards to avoid the oncoming collisions), determined to remain professional in the face of his own idiocy.

Clicking his penlight on with a little too much enthusiasm, he shook the device over his patient’s face. “Can you look up, sir?” Eddie felt his coworker’s eyes trained on him but he kept his focus on his work. As he continued his examination, Chimney crept closer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and amusement but still, the ex-soldier remained stoic as ever. Some part of Eddie knew that ignoring his friend now would only lead to a confrontation later but right now, he had work to do. And dividing his attention between his duty and his teasing friends was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. So, he stayed focused. After a few moments, he saw Chimney shake his head and move away, letting Eddie take a much-needed breath of relief.

He was safe from his own stupid brain. For now.

Eddie knew it was coming when Chimney let him be during the rest of their scene cleanup. It was inevitable; but knowing and experiencing were two entirely separate matters.

“So.” Chimney wore what could only be described as a ‘shit-eating grin’ as he began his sentence, pulling all eyes in the back of the truck to him. “Is there something that Buck and Eddie would like to tell us?”

Buck, innocent as ever, turned to Eddie for guidance. “No…?” Eddie could only stare out the window, sorely tempted to remove his headphones if only to prolong the inevitable conversation. Was he blushing or was his face simply burning from the inside out?

“Are you sure?” The man was unrelenting, his voice growing higher with his escalating amusement. As if giving them a chance to confess would be easier than Chimney spilling the truth.

Not that there was any truth to confess. There was just one, very, very, idiotic man who got one simple crush and couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“Chim, what’s going on?”

There were two options Eddie faced in this moment where his head filled with warning sirens (not dissimilar to the ones that normally filled the truck). He could come clean and confess his sins to the team, facing the consequences with what meager amount of dignity he had left. Or, he could lie and pretend Chimney had misheard him, and they could all go about their day. That seemed the safer option. Of course, he hated lying to his team – to his friends – but what was the alternative?

“I called Buck my husband at the scene.”

Apparently, the alternative was exclaiming his idiocy in front of his teammates and denying the flash of a smile on his partner’s face. It was a simple upturn twitch of his lip, hardly noticeable, but the only opinion that mattered to Eddie as he gave his confession was from the man sitting across from him – and he was decidedly attuned to Buck’s ever-changing expressions. On a normal day, he enjoyed the way their knees bumped as the truck bounced through the streets of Los Angeles; it was just another reminder of how connected they were. Now, it made the space between them feel too close – yet still not close enough.

Buck’s face, upon hearing the news that Eddie had tied them together in the mind of some random stranger, flickered once before falling to something neutral and curious (almost amused). As if he was studying something.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” His partner shrugged and Eddie’s heart stopped. “Were they hitting on you?”

Again, Eddie appeared at a crossroads. “No.” And chose the more embarrassingly honest answer.

“Were they hitting on me?”

“No.” So many forks in his path but he continued to veer in one direction, as Buck furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Then why did you”

“I don’t know.” Eddie tried to sound casual as he grumblingly cut him off before he could continue his innocent interrogation. Through the headset, he could hear Chimney snort in disbelief but his eyes remained solely locked on his partner.

He knew why Chimney might scoff at his dismissal – those type of slipups didn’t ‘just happen’, after all – but it was as close to the truth as he could muster. He didn’t know why he’d said what he said. His mind was still frazzled from long hours contemplating what he wanted and what he felt.

Apparently, his subconscious had taken over and now he had his answer.

An answer which was decidedly too large to attempt to unpack while he was still on duty.

He wanted Buck to be his husband. He was ready to get married again – and to his best friend, no less. All wonderful information to process at another time.

The rest of the trip back to the station was filled with noise: the roar of the engine, the shout of the horn when someone inevitably cut them off, the clank of metal against metal. Eddie’s head was silent. He stared out the window at the passing world, feeling the eyes of his partner drilling into his cheek for a time, and then return to his phone. No one spoke, but the absence of voice was deafening. Teasing or pestering would have been better than the juxtaposing silence that told him everyone knew what he’d meant.

Buck had given him every out for his little mistake and, instead, Eddie had barreled straight into his own demise. There was no other explanation as to why he’d said what he said: he’d meant it. Or wanted to mean it, rather. Sure, his dirty little secret had been outed, but Buck had yet to make a comment one way or the other.

I don’t mind.

One friend helping out another: that was what it meant to Buck. And he loved that. But there was no mistaking now what Eddie felt in his heart.

He wanted it to mean something else.

Climbing out of the truck at the end of their journey was harder than usual. The silent stares wouldn’t stop because they were back at the station, it would only be worsened by the fact that there was nothing else to focus on. Eddie never prayed for a call – and he still wouldn’t now – but if there was any mercy in the world, he could avoid all of his friends and co-workers for the rest of their shift.

Simple enough.

“Hey.” Eddie cursed at the familiar voice following him towards the cubbies. Naturally, they were alone, naturally, there was no real excuse to leave – and apparently, he’d decided to suppress his ability to tell white lies for the sake of his pride today – naturally, his heart pounded behind his eyelids as Buck stopped jogging in front of him.

“I just want to say…” and here came the inevitable turndown Eddie dreaded and secretly hoped would never come. “It’s okay, I get it.” Buck’s smile was small but sincere. That man couldn’t be anything less than sincere.

It’s one of the reasons why I lo-

“It was just a slip of the tongue,” Eddie cut off his own thoughts before they betrayed him the way his subconscious had. He needed at least some of his faculties to survive the day. “Don’t worry about it.”

He stepped to the side, intending to escape his own personal hell – was it always this hot in the station? Did they always stand so close to one another? How had he never realized his feelings before now? – but Buck blocked his path.

“No, really, it’s fine.” Was Buck blushing now? “I kind of think of you as my work-husband, too.”

Another perfect opportunity for an out. He could flounder excuses about being tired and meaning it in a work-related setting the way Buck implied.

“Right.” His words sounded weak to his own ears. Who knew what they sounded like to Buck, as the man finally let him pass. Freedom secured, Eddie quickened his pace so as to escape the curious eyes of his fellow crewmates as quickly as possible.

Or at least, that was the plan, until Buck called out: “But you know, I’m free tonight if you wanted to talk about it.”

It felt as though the world stopped spinning – but the distant sound of clanking cutlery from the loft reminded him that it had not. His stomach dropped into his shoes, and his skin burst into flames from the buzzing in his ears. Eddie pivoted on his heel slowly to face his partner, uncertain he’d even heard the words he’d said. But there was Buck, blushing as brightly as he felt, but smiling a much more lopsided grin.

“Talk about what?” He cautiously asked.

Buck moved first, filling the minimal space Eddie had put between them with his broad chest and bright, eager eyes. He smelled of smoke and pine (despite interacting with neither today) and a thin sheen of sweat made him appear more disheveled than perhaps he was. Had he always been so intoxicating? What were they talking about?

“About being husbands… outside of work.”

“What?” Now Eddie was certain that he’d misheard his friend.

Buck simply smirked in response to his question, eyes moving slowly over Eddie’s face. He was always examining, questioning, confident. He had been doomed from the start.

“Christopher’s in bed at eight, right?”

“We’re pushing it to eight-thirty.” His mouth moved on autopilot, too stunned to comprehend the sudden shift in subject.

Again, Buck’s blue eyes circled his face slowly, absorbing all Eddie’s focus as he felt himself physically affected from the mere sight of his partner with his knowing grin and wandering eye. So entranced was he, that he didn’t notice how closely the other man had leaned into his space until he felt his hot breath against his skin. Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat.

He was absolutely doomed.

When Buck spoke, his tongue danced along his teeth, an enticing show of some unfulfilled fantasy that had never occurred to Eddie in the first place.

“Then I’ll be there at eight-thirty-one.”

Buck’s flirtatious demeanor melted into a giddy smile that snapped through the tension he’d pulled between them. “I was a little- a lot worried you didn’t feel the same.” He confessed, still filling Eddie’s space with his infectious energy. One word from him, and Eddie melted.

“You…were…” No more words filled his mind beyond a string of victorious swears and the sound of panicked cheering, but Buck seemed to understand him nonetheless. Buck had always understood him.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with using the truck to keep his legs underneath him, he would have turned to see Buck walk away, pumping his fist in excitement. As it was, several crewmembers looked on from the balcony, shaking their heads at the pair of idiots acting like lovesick teenagers over a single date.

Chimney shooed them all away before taking the opportunity to shout: “Buck, tell your husband that lunch is ready.” Which earned him more than a few chuckles from the firefighters upstairs, and two overexaggerated groans from the men below.

They were definitely not going to be living this down for a while.

For once, Eddie didn’t mind – and if the grin plastered on Buck’s face for the rest of the shift was any indication, neither did he.

[1-800-imagines]

Summer Love |h.s|

no control part 1

tw: aggressive, douche bf (not harry)

Rowan was more excited for her second year of college at Dartmouth. She had a boyfriend and she was going to be a teaching assistant for English 1301. She had taken the course the year before and loved the professor. Dr. Montgomery had been impressed with Rowan that she had offered her a job for the next year and now Rowan basically was in charge of the class. She lectured, gave tests and quizzes, and graded papers. Dr. Montgomery was just there as a supervisor if Rowan had questions.

She was also excited for her classes because she was now able to take her major related courses. She adored English with her whole heart and now her schedule was full of English classes instead of just the basics. She had her classes that she was taking on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday's. And she taught two English 1301 classes on Tuesday and Thursday back to back.

Rowan was anxious about teaching. She was only 19. Her students would be the same age as her and might be in her other classes. It was the day before classes started and Rowan had moved into her apartment that day. It was a late start but her parents had wanted her home for as much as possible since she didn't come home much during the school year. Boston was only 2 hours away but Rowan didn't have a car.

Carter had helped Rowan move all her stuff in. Her parents had kissed her goodbye and left leaving the couple alone. Rowan flopped on her bed and laid back. She was exhausted from moving all the shit. She wanted a nap, but Carter was on her. "Not now, Cart," She mumbled with her eyes still closed.

"Come on, Ro. I helped you move all your heavy shit in and now you're gonna hold out on me," Carter said, his voice laced with guilt. Rowan sighed, but didn't move.

"No, I'm tired." She opened her eyes to look at him, "I'm sorry. Can't we nap and maybe after?" She asked him.

"God, you're such a bitch, Rowan." He snapped. His sweet attitude from earlier with his parents disappearing. He stood up from her bed and left with a huff, slamming the door. "Don't fucking text me." He yelled and the apartment door slammed again.

Rowan sighed again and shut her eyes. She honestly didn't care enough right now to deal with Carter and his antics. She was too tired. Their summer had been fun, but their relationship relied on sex and whenever Rowan didn't want to, he would get extremely mad and throw a fit. Rowan drifted into sleep without setting an alarm. It was only about 4:30.

——

When Rowan woke up, it was midnight. "Shit," She swore under her breath. She still had a LOT of stuff to do to prepare for classes and meeting with Dr. Montgomery tomorrow. On top of that, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep through the night. She sat up and looked around for her phone. When she turned it on she saw she had about 25 texts from Carter ranging from him being extremely angry to also saying he loved her and he was sorry. Rowan didn't want to deal with it. She plugged her phone into the charger and got up to finish dealing with her shit.

She was done prepping at 3am. And she had her first class at 9. She didn't have a car so she still had to walk to campus but she didn't live far. She was going to leave at 8 so she could pick up breakfast from the coffee stand. So in reality she needed to get up at 6:30 to shower. Rowan groaned thinking about everything and fell back in her bed. She set multiple alarms and fell back asleep.

At 6:30 sharp the alarm clock blared and she sprang out of bed, not wanting to be late. Her anxiety was always the worst on the first day. She actually had diagnosed anxiety and depression. She jumped into the shower to jolt herself awake. Mornings were always the hardest for Ro. She never wanted to get herself out of bed.

She let herself stay in the shower for 30 minutes and then get out and fully get ready. She dried her hair and put on some makeup. Her hair was generally pretty straight and currently was platinum blonde. She was a natural blonde but she liked it platinum best. She pulled on some ripped skinny jeans and a button up. It was 7:45 so she was good on time. She grabbed her vans and backpack and walked out the door, finally answering Carter. She simply just texted him, 'It's fine. See you after classes. R'

Before she shut the door, she yelled at her roommate, "Bye Ari!" Her best friend and roommate didn't have class till later but Rowan liked yelling at her start waking her up. Ari was even less of a morning person than Rowan.

Rowan made the trek to campus and to the coffee stand. She was in line, only kind of paying attention when it was her turn. "Hi, can I get a large double shot of espresso with cream and sugar? And then a bagel with butter?" The cashier nodded and she paid for her breakfast with her cash and change that was left from summer. She had a little bit of money from summer babysitting and knew she had to be careful about spending until the paychecks started rolling in.

Rowan turned on her foot to go wait for her order when she bumped into a very tall man, "Oh shit, I'm sorry." She said, dropping all her money on the floor, "Fuck." She had a major problem with swearing.

The man chuckled and bent down to help her pick up the money, "Don't worry about it, love." He had a thick british accent. He handed her the money and her heart skipped a beat. She realized she was staring and got a hold of herself.

"Thank you! Sorry again." She smiled and went over to wait for her coffee, slightly mortified. Rowan took out her phone to look down and texted Ari. 'I'm the biggest dumbass. I ran into this gorgeous man and dropped my fucking CHANGE at his feet and he picked it up for me and now I'm standing here looking like a fucking DORK'

She knew Ari wouldn't be awake yet, but it was a relief to tell someone even if they wouldn't read it till later.

The mysterious man walked over to wait next to Rowan and Rowan's heart was beating incredibly fast. How did someone have this effect on her? Carter sure didn't. "Rowan!" It snapped her out of her trance. She grabbed her order and awkwardly smiled at the man.

"Have a good day," The man said and Rowan nearly tripped.

"You too!" She said and ran off to try to avoid further embarrassing herself. "Jesus christ, get yourself together Rowan." She swore at herself and went to sit outside her class to eat.

Her first 4 classes went by quickly. She had biology, fiction & poetry, creative writing, and history all back to back. Then she had a break which overlapped with Ari. The two talked about Rowan's embarrassment of the day and Rowan saluted her and went to the class she was most excited about: Shakespeare's Greatest Works. It was taught by a new Professor.

She walked into class before it started and sat in the second row. She took out her notebook for that class and waited for class to start. On the dot of the hour, the door opened and Rowan gasped.

"Oh fuck me." She said a little bit too loudly. It caught the professor's attention and he smirked at her, giving her a little grin. It was the man from earlier.

"Alright class, I'm Professor Styles. Nice to meet you all." Rowan's heart nearly fell out of her chest.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [22.5]

Back to Chapter 22

Words: 2729 || The Ultimate Mini-Chapter of the series

“You’re working in a grocery store now?” Taehyung asks with raised brows, surprise taking hold. He never imagined his friend being a produce boy, yet it seems fitting somehow. “Isn’t working in the bakery section more suitable?”   Jimin shrugs. “I didn’t get to pick, but the job is pretty relaxed, so I’m not that worried. My manager is really nice and I’ll probably quit when I find a real position after graduating.”   “Nice, dude.” They fist pump. “Now you can buy me my deli meats all the time.”   “You’ll have to reimburse me, Tae.” The boy with his full cheeks has his eyes crinkled.   The two boys have known each other since their elementary days — where Taehyung kept stealing Jimin’s books and pencils until one day the timid latter had enough and tackled the former on the playground. They stuck together after that, finding that their personalities balanced. It would only be later until they met Yoongi in math class, Hoseok in Jimin’s extracurricular, and Jungkook during an outside volunteering event in High School.    It was how the four of them came to be, how they naturally formed a friendship over the course of time and still remain close after so many years. So Taehyung has no hesitation when his phone starts blowing up with notifications and immediately verbalizes his woes—   “Oh shit.”   “What?” Jimin abandons the game he’s playing. He’s never been good at them like the rest were.    “Yuna found me on instagram,” Taehyung grimaces. “She just added me and liked all my pics since three years ago.”   Jimin bursts out laughing much to his best friend’s dismay. “She’s the girl Y/N and Jungkook was showing around, right?”   “Yeah, that sixteen year old.”   The shorter man’s brows furrow. “Isn’t she eighteen?”   “Same thing.” Taehyung sighs despite the fact that he’s only twenty himself and Jimin muses that he often acts twelve. But he doesn’t utter his thoughts and Taehyung tosses his device onto the couch. “She kind of scares me.”   “Why?” Jimin gives a toothy grin. “She’s tiny.”   “Haven’t you heard what Yoongi said? The shorter ones are always the ones closer to hell.” It’s a fair point. “The smallest peppers are always the spiciest, am I right?”   “Fuck off, it’s about girth not length.” He ignores how Taehyung’s brows wiggle. “Didn’t she ask you out before she left?”   “Yep.”   “What did you even do? She wasn’t like that to me or Hoseok.”   “Exactly. I have no clue.” Taehyung would make a joke about he’s just naturally irresistible but this is no time to joke around. Yuna is undeniably intimidating and a serious threat to his existence. “I heard from Y/N that she’s thinking of coming here, so thank god we’re all graduating in a few months.”   “Yeah, well you might need another semester with the grades you have.”   “Bro.” Taehyung sits up straight. “You want to fight?”   He shrugs. “I’m just saying you can’t get away with a thirty percent in nutrition.”   “Fuck. Don’t remind me. I need to catch up on my readings.”   “Same here.”   Yet no one moves. They don’t even flinch.    The two should crack open their textbooks and start reading — but Taehyung’s arm only stretches to grab a controller and join the game Jimin’s in.   The night continues on as the two relish in their youth and ability to be irresponsible without repercussions. Or at least too many repercussions.

The air of the small coffee shop is tense. It is as if the four walls are closing in, but still, she’s glad that it’s a public setting. She can’t bear if it was just her and him. At least in public, there are voices to fill in the background silence and the threat of public embarrassment keeps her from crying, from having an outburst.   It���s difficult to face someone she used to care so much about. To this day, she still doesn’t know what she felt can be called love. But the fact that she has to contemplate it, she’s inclined to think that it’s not. But that doesn’t mean their short and sweet relationship was any less meaningful. He was her best friend for so long after all.   Aeri swallows hard, sipping her drink. She tries not to get the paper cup to shake so much in her clammy hands and ends up putting it back on the table when she realizes she can’t taste it well.   After another beat, she lifts her eyes to look at his and realizes that he’s been staring at her.   Aeri breaks the silence. “Why’d you call me here, Hoseok?”   “I thought it would be nice to talk.”   “About what?”   “Us.”   Closure. He came here for closure, but she’s not sure what kind of closure he wants or how he wants to shut this bittersweet chapter of their lives.   “What about u-us?” She hates that her voice breaks, but oddly enough, it isn’t as painful as it was a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, she would’ve never been able to face him like this, wouldn’t be able to even look at him without crying. It seems like as time goes by, it becomes easier.   “I’m sorry.”   He says in a weakened tone that hurts her as well.   “Don’t apologize, Hoseok.”   “No, but I want to. I’ve been thinking about it a lot — and what we had….it was good.”   “It was.” Aeri smiles. “Wasn’t it?”   He nods, eased at her openness, that she’s not defensive or angry like he thought she would be. Like she has the right to be. “I don’t think I tried hard enough to make it work.”   “I didn’t either, so don’t blame yourself alone,” Aeri says, a tiny smile tugs on her lips. She accepts his apology. “I had my part to play in it too.”   “I didn’t want to hurt you.”   “I didn’t either. But it’s okay, Hoseok. We just weren’t right for each other.”   He nods. It goes silent. He musters a tender smile. “Truce?”   “Truce.” The girl giggles when they shake hands across the small table. “You still owe me ten dollars when I lent you gas money.”   “Oh, you’re really going to bring that up now?”   “Of course,” Aeri laughs. “Fair is fair.”   It’s hard to be acquainted with someone who used to be so much closer. Someone who has so many memories — good ones and hurtful ones. And often times the end can never be the same as the beginning.   For the rest of their lives, Aeri knows that she’ll always keep Hoseok at a distance, at an arm’s reach, for the sake of her own heart and self-preservation. But she considered herself one of the lucky ones — that they have a mutual understanding, that they can still see each other, and can still have some semblance of a platonic friendship.   She’s lucky when she knows that the two of them will never revert to being complete strangers.

Min Yoongi is a man of many things.   He is quiet, but deadly. He is grumpy and lethargic, but will go out of his way to make someone’s life miserable and has the biggest smile when he sees suffering. He had the most joy when Taehyung stubbed his toe against the doorframe, when Jimin was last place during Smash.   Most of all, he’s an enigma. Lazy, yet the hardest working. Mean and snarky, yet always willing to lend an ear and shoulder. Indifferent and aloof, yet the one who never fails to react first in a crisis.   But of all things...you never expected him to be clingy.   “So this is what you do all day?” Yoongi gestures to the clutter on the kitchen counter, the wires and gum paste rolled out, styrofoam and toothpicks, small brushes and petal dust shades. “You practice making flowers and then go home to suck Jungkook’s dick?”   “Excuse me.” You scoff. “I practice making cakes too.”   “You’re fun.”   “If you don’t like it, then leave me alone,” you mutter out of the corner of your mouth, concentrating back on the rose you’re working on. “Why are you hanging out with me anyway?”   “Because it’s you or Taehyung right now and I’d rather spend time with you than Taehyung.”   “What’s wrong with Taehyung?”   “He’s Taehyung.”   A light scoff falls out of your mouth. You know the motherfucker has a soft spot for him, but he can say whatever he wants. He’ll deny it even if you confronted him. “Want to make flowers?” you offer.   “Nope.”   Min Yoongi would rather fiddle with kitchen materials and spin around on the stool than brush up on sugar flowers, piping flowers or fondant flowers. But you don’t have the time or energy to argue.   You do, however, show off once you’re finished. “What do you think?”   He hums as he looks at your finished product. “Not half bad, I guess. I’ve seen worse.”   It’s not the greatest compliment in the world but you’ll take it especially since it’s coming from him. You’ve noticed in the time you’ve known Yoongi that he has a difficult time praising others. He always tries to work around it, skirting through the subject, never verbalizing his feelings despite being such a straightforward person.   It never fails to be entertaining to watch.   You grin. “If my relationship with Jungkook ever goes to shit, we’d still be friends, wouldn’t we, Yoongi?”   “Sure,” he mumbles while resting his elbow on the counter, cheek in his palm lazily. “But your relationship with Kook won’t ever go to shit. Kid’s too whipped for you.”   Your smile only widens. “He is, isn’t he?”   “You are too,” he says when you attempt to exclude yourself. “It’s gross to watch, but whatever.”   “You need someone in your life too, Min. Maybe you’d be less bitter all the time.” It’s not that he’s bitter, but you like to tease that he is since you know it grinds his gears. “I have a cousin of a cousin who’s around our age. Want to meet her?”   His expression wrinkles like he just bit into a lemon. Yoongi sits upright. “First of all, fuck you. I’m not bitter — I’m just me, bitch. Secondly, I don’t want to meet anyone, much less your cousin. And last of all, you’re becoming worse than Taehyung.”   “Maybe this is an invitation for you to leave then.” You grin cheekily at Yoongi and it doesn’t amuse him. It’s unfortunate he doesn’t have a soft spot for you like Jungkook does. “And don’t call me a bitch. Only Jungkook’s allowed to do that in bed.”   “I didn’t need to know that.” Yoongi’s face crumples more and he waves at you. “Just stop talking and continue what you’re doing.”   Min Yoongi is an enigma and someone you relate to the most. Often times you feel him on a spiritual level. And in spite of what he might think internally, he’s a great friend.    He’s logical, reasonable, the clarity that the whole group usually needs before they think doing dumb shit, like jumping off the roof of the dining center into a pile of snow beneath, is a good idea. He’s hilarious in a sarcastic, snarky way and cares the most when no one’s looking.   He reminds you of an older brother who will always watch your back — and he makes you glad that both you and Jungkook have him in your life.

Jungkook had a dream.   It was odd — only because it felt so real and how it still sticks into his mind hours later. Usually dreams fade away like memories of childhoods where he can’t distinguish people, actions, his own thoughts but generally what had occurred and the feeling he had obtained.   But Jungkook remembers this dream well.    It was a dream where he wobbled to the kitchen in this small house with wooden floorboards and hideous wallpaper, his home, and found you by the window above the sink. Only, you were old with gray hair and wrinkles around your face, an apron tied around your body that was shorter and more sluggish. And his own hands were wrinkled like crumpled paper, round glasses perched on his nose, his movements slowed down as he staggered.   You had turned around and complained about the damn neighbour kids ruining your garden with their littering and he had to calm you down for fear of you getting a heart attack. It was so entirely mundane, and he had never been more confused when he awoke.   “Jungkook!” His mother shouts over the phone. “Are you still here?” Her voice sounds farther away. “Honey, the phone’s broken again! I can’t hear him!”   The boy snaps back to attention. “No, I’m here! Mom? Hello?”   But neither of his parents hear him. Instead, there’s rustling and the sound of his father’s voice. “Give me that. Hello?”   “Hello?” Jungkook sighs.   “Hello?! Goddammit, I just fixed this old thing yesterday!”   “No, I’m right here!” He has to strain his voice, shouting loud enough that could warrant complaints from the people next door. “I can hear you!”   “Honey, is that you?” His mom calls out again and there’s more rustling. “Where’s the speakerphone? Oh, here. Hello?”   For the tenth time, Jungkook exclaims— “Hello!”   “Finally. I thought the phone was broken again.” Both his parents start discussing the phone issues and Jungkook nurses his headache before the conversation gets back on track again. “Have you been eating well?”   “I’ve been fine, mom.”   “Good! Your grandma’s visiting and she’s been so worried about you. It’s not good to do all that exercise and not eat well! You’ll burn all your fat and just be skin and bones!” There’s the sound of his grandma’s voice at the back that he can’t distinguish well enough to make out what she’s saying. “Anyhow, your aunt and uncle send their regards. We’ll be visiting their home this time for the Holiday season come December. Also Lia and Eunbi wanted to ask if Y/N will be coming home with you.”   “Uh.” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not sure yet.”   “Oh, well, do bring her, dear.”   His dad suddenly says, “Heaven knows, your mom and grandma can’t stop talking about how great she is. If she comes by, I’ll fire up the grill and we can have a barbecue too!”   “Yeah, we’ll see,” he exhales sharply.   Jungkook still hasn’t announced to his family that he’s dating you yet. If you agree to come back with him for Christmas, he’ll probably make it known to them but he can’t even fathom the many more times they’ll call if they knew. God, they would probably call you directly and he would rather spare you from their smothering love.   Suddenly a thought creeps into Jungkook’s mind. “Hey, mom. Can I talk to grandma for a second?”   “Sure! Mom! He’s here.” He can hear the phone getting passed, more buttons accidentally being pressed, and his grandma’s voice sounds closer as if she accidentally turned off the speakerphone.    “Hello? Kookie, is that you?”   They exchange the usual back and forth, asking about each other’s well-being and wishing one another good health. His grandma also tells him to bring you around some time when he comes home and how lovely you are — but he doesn’t need to hear it. Jungkook’s already long learnt that.   “Hey, grandma.” He finally approaches the question he’s been meaning to ask. Slow and hesitant, but he manages. “What was it like to grow old with grandpa?”   He can practically hear the soft smile on her face. “Oh, it was wonderful.” There’s a pause as if the aged woman is looking for a word to exactly describe her experience. Though she finally seems to be able to find it. “It was a privilege.”   A privilege.   That’s the perfect word. It encapsulates his dream entirely.    It was sad to be aged, to see you tired, to feel weighed down himself and slower than what he’s used to. But when he looked at you, he didn’t just see an old woman — he saw the snarky girl he knew of in high school, the attractive girl he daydreamed about for so long, the one he’s with now. And the one who will join him for so many more memories.   Even if it was just a dream, Jungkook’s excited to make it a reality.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

@the-only-gamer-gost‘s WritingTober Day 4: SleepyBoisInc

Set in @moonbowphobia‘s Heist Au. @octopus-defence-squad is also a creator of the Canon.

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

There was once a little boy, whose real name has been long since forgotten. He wishes. It would have been if he wasn’t forced to go to school. He’s out of school now, but that’s not when this series of events is set.

- - -

When he was nine he started stealing, borrowing, and bartering is way through life. He was a thief and a bandit. And a good one at that.

They called him Technoblade.

As the tales go: he was a one man show. He worked alone. He accomplished impossible heists. Too complex for only one person. But he managed. And he never got caught.

He was wicked good with anything that had circuit boards. And pray for the poor fool who got in to close quarters with him and forgot how good he was with that switchblade of his.

But that’s not truth. In truth, there were two boys in on the shenanigans.

Phil was Technoblade’s right-hand man. He was the one doing the backdooring. All Techno does is put in a chip, giving Phil access.

Funny how the bandit’s nickname is the part he doesn’t do.

- - -

Phil and Techno met in the first grade. Isn’t funny how he’s lost his birth name in his best friend’s mind? Phil had taken a liking to him immediately. Taking him under his wing. Making sure he was good.

Phil neverminded how much Techno stayed over at his place. He was astounded by the state of the orphanage his mate called home. And not the good kind. So was it a surprise when he didn’t bat when his friend ran away from that place?

If there was one good thing about their negligence, it was that they never unenrolled Techno from school.

- - -

Techno started his life of crime when they were in the fourth grade. His little nine year old stature helping him slip away from the scene.

He started to come to school less frequently. Phil started to worry.

It took three months for Phil it figure it out. It took him two weeks to realize that he couldn’t stop his friend. It took another three before he helped Techno plan his next heist.

Phil was the information guy. He pickpocketed the things Techno would need for things to go smoothly. Security badges, IDs, paperwork, a company laptop. He also made sure Techno had all the tools he’d need.

And he made sure that his mate got his school work when he stopped attending regularly. Made sure he knew when the tests were.

While in grade school, Techno did a lot of little jobs often. As they got into highschool he started to do bigger jobs less and less frequently.

- - -

Phil went to college. Technoblade lost his guy in the shadows. He still had his friend.

He had started to feel safe with Phil. A form of insurance. It was always nice to have someone on your side. So he stopped doing jobs.

He enrolled in college after a gap year with the money from that successful bank heist in tenth grade.

- - -

Phil became a middle school teacher straight out of college at twenty-four.

In his second year of teaching he had a familiar looking kid in his eighth grade class.

Thomas Gold. Why did he look familiar?

It wasn’t unless parent-teacher night, when his older brother came in that Phil made the connection.

Wilbur. Wilbur Gold. That kid that got Techno to come to school once a week, if only for the morning for half a year. He had a little brother. This little kindergartener who endeared himself to Techno when they were in the eighth grade was now a highschool senior.

But he needed to be professional. He couldn’t tell this kid that they had met before.

- - -

From then on he has a soft spot for Tommy and his best friend Tubbo. Even if he shouldn’t have favourites. Even if Tommy is a pain. Even if all the teachers agree that he is a bad influence on good kid Tubbo. Even though Phil knows that Tubbo is just better at hiding his chaos.

- - -

As a teacher, Phil has eyes on the back of his head and ears in the walls. But he pays special attention to these two boys.

For the other students safety. He tells himself. I’m not even lying to myself anymore. He ushers the class out of the sciene lab that Tommy and Tubbo have just filled with gas.

So he hears everything. Especially when he’s in the middle of a lesson and people are being quiet.

“So how do we get Technoblade to help us?”

Phil gets whiplash from out fast his head snapped to their conversation. Bitch. TF. Techno hasn’t been active for six years at this point.

Oh shit. Are these two the kids that have started painting the town red? Is Wilbur helping them?

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

Thx for reading. I hope you enjoyed. I have another little story below the cut if you feel like reading more. :)

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[Enter Techno and Phil’s eighth grade teacher]

Pete was just about done with this boy only coming to class on test days and never anytime else, but who was passing every subject with flying colours. He just didn’t know what to do with him. He needed to talk to the kid’s parents.

He requested Techno’s guardian information. He called the orphanage listed and found that they hadn’t seen him in years at that point. And didn’t even lift a finger to do anything about that.

And this kid had to gall to show up after school the next day asking about that proposed interview with his ‘parents’. We wasn’t even in class that day!

Pete sat the boy down. “I don’t want to talk about your grades. I don’t need to talk about your grades. You get top marks. What I want to talk about is your attendance.”

“Attendance doesn’t affect your ability to pass until high school,” he fired back.

“But not going to school is a bad habit to create. High school is next year.”

“If I work now and save every penny, I’ll have enough money to sustain all the lost hours to school.”

“I,” Pete looked this kid up and down, noticing the heavy bags under his eyes. “We’ll get back to that.”

“Sure.”

“I want you to pass. You’re a smart kid. And it would be awful if you had to do this again. But your final mark isn’t all tests. It’s also participation, and homework.”

“I thought as much.” Then this kid. This damned kid. He opened his bag and pulled out a stack of paper. “Here’s all the homework from the school year so far.”

The school year was halfway done.

“I can hand in things I’ll miss on the days I come in.”

“Lord”

“If it makes you feel better I got eight hours of sleep last night. And I have nothing up my sleeves for participation.”

Pete makes an offer, “Group project.”

“No.”

“Reading buddies.”

“I don’t do children.

“You are a child.”

“I know.”

“Well you need to pick the lesser of two evils.”

The kid tilled his head. “How old?”

“The kindergarteners. Thursday mornings. Starting tomorrow.”

He mulled it over. “Fine, but if there’s no test I’m ditching.”

“I wouldn’t expect anymore from my best student.” Pete extends his arm for the kid to shake. “I’m keeping you to this promise.”

“Give me a nice kid?”

“Done.”

They both sat back in their chairs. Satisfied.

“Was there anything else Sir?”

“You know where I live?”

“Of course.”

Pete handed the boy ‘And Then There Were None’ by Agatha Christie. “You have the work packet for this.

“Yeah.” He turned the book over in his hands. “You handed it two weeks ago. I was going to the library this afternoon.”

“I want that book report on my desk Friday.”

“Home desk? Because you’re implying home desk right now.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t I give it to you tomorrow?”

“While I’m sure it’ll be done by then. Friday. Home desk.”

“Yes Sir.”

- - -

The boy walked into class the next morning.

Pete realized how much the other’s equated his presence with frantic last minute studying. He saw there terrified faces.

Pete hadn’t said anything about a test? Was there a pop quiz? How did he know? Why was he here?

But those were all forgotten about when Pete lead them down to the kindergarten room. He had given the boy the nicest kid, according the their teacher.

He didn’t even address the child. He took the biggest book from the shelf and started to read this giant animal encyclopedia to this child.

The soft brown haired boy was very immersed. He flipped right to the back of the book and made his buddie read about whales.

As soon as the hour was up, and Pete called time, he was out. He put the book away. Saying nothing to his buddies. And walked out the room, and presumably the building.

Pete had never seen a group of students so relieved to see the favouritism of letting a student ditch.

- - -

When Pete entered his house Friday afternoon, he was only mildly surprise to see his student on his couch watching his TV.

“You staying for dinner?”

“I thought that’s what you were implying when you told me I couldn’t hand it in yesterday.”

Pete left him to the TV.

~ ~ ~

When the next Thursday rolled around, he didn’t know who was more surprised when Techno showed up.

Him or Phil.

- - -

But Wilbur was sure happy to see his buddie after he left so abruptly last time.

[livesincerely]

dude you should totally write a fic off run away w me if you like haven’t alr 👀👀

DARLING.

You know me. You know what I’m like. You know you can’t just drop amazing ideas like this in my inbox and expect me to leave them alone until I actually have time to do something with them... 😫😫😫

So.

So.

Background: Davey makes it through his SAT, then exits the building, throws up, and passes out in the parking lot, which isn’t the first indication that something’s wrong but it’s the beginning of the end for how much Jack’s willing to let him get away with it. He’s been a nervous wreck for months, not sleeping and not eating, anxious and irritable and so obviously neglecting his health that it makes Jack wanna scream. No one else seems to see it—Davey’s not a great liar but he’s excellent at deflecting, though that’s never stopped Jack from seeing right through him. Davey manages to hobble his way through the fall semester, keeping his grades up and finishing all his college applications through sheer force of will. His parents are so proud of him, he’s set to be valedictorian and he’s expecting to get several college acceptance letters, and he’s so worried about not doing anything to disappoint them. He and Jack get into several arguments about this that never come to anything except teary, biting stalemates.

Until finally, Davey gets his college acceptance letters. The envelopes come over the course of several weeks and he can’t hardly stand to look at them. Full rides to NYU, Colombia, UCLA, and several other amazing schools. Davey gets halfway through opening the first envelope, hands shaking so bad he can barely hold onto it, before he’s running to throw up. He realizes, suddenly, that unless something gives, he’s looking at another 4+ years of this: of working himself into the ground and being miserable, of never feeling like his wants are valid enough, of always competing and working and grinding, against others sure, but mostly against this imaginary, perfect, unattainable version of himself, of always living the life his parents want him to lead, and he can’t hardly stand it. He can’t imagine going to college. He can’t imagine not going to college.

We open on him calling Jack, crying and freaking out. Because he doesn’t know what to do and he just needs someone to be in his corner and advocate for him, because at this point Davey’s not even sure if Davey’s in his own corner. Jack opens all the envelopes and he doesn’t tell Davey what they say, doesn’t confirm if any/all of them are acceptance letters or anything, just reads through them expressionless. Then he closes them back up, tucks them into the inner pocket on his jacket, and says, “Davey... run away with me.”

“What?” Davey whispers.

“Run away with me, Dave,” Jack says. “Let me take you away from all’a this. We’ll hit the road, drive ‘til the pavement ends, ‘til we’re far away from all these expectations and standards and supposed to’s. Because it’s crushing you. It’s making you fucking miserable, and if distance is what you need to find steady ground and make a choice for your own sake, that’s actually about you and what you want? Then I’m your ticket outta town.”

“Jackie...” Davey says, utterly floored. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, stuttering with something like anticipation and fear and terrible, terrible longing. “Jackie, we can’t.”

“And why can’t we?”

“Because,” Davey insists, because one of them has to be reasonable. “Because, we can’t just pack up and leave. It’s the middle of the semester, we’ve got another three months of school left, we need to graduate, and fuck, can you even imagine the fallout? My parents would kill me, just hunt me down and murder me if I left.”

“I’m still not hearin’ any reasons not to,” Jack says, and he keeps looking at Davey with those warm, steady eyes.

“I just told you—“ Davey starts.

“No,” Jack calmly interrupts. “You gave me a bunch of excuses for not going, not reasons. There’s a difference. I’m waitin’ for something more along the lines of ‘my stupidly long legs make roadtrips super uncomfortable’ or ‘our friendship won’t survive us traveling together for weeks in close quarters’ or ‘I wouldn’t trust your rusted old Chevy to take us to the state line, let alone across the country,’ or even just ‘Jack, I don’t want to.’”

Davey’s mouth closes with a soft click, swallowing heavily around a sudden lump in his throat.

Jack keeps looking at him, and the intensity of his gaze is almost to much to handle, simmering with something quiet but fierce.

“I’m not gonna stand by and watch you kill yourself over a life that you don’t even want. Not anymore. Not when it makes you call me at one in the morning, sounding like the weight of the fucking world’s on your shoulders and you’re terrified to set it down. Not after seven months of watching you waste away right in front of me, moving around like a goddamn shadow, pale as a ghost and hollow inside. Not unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me that college is gonna make you happy.”

Davey can’t speak. Something’s gone taut in his chest, like a piano wire about to snap. Davey could prevent it. He’s not sure if he wants to.

Jack steps closer and takes both of Davey’s hands in his own. His palms are warm, or maybe it’s just that Davey’s freezing, has been so painfully cold and lonely these past few months, withering away in the shadow of his parent’s expectations. But the tangle of their fingers threading together is like a balm on Davey’s soul—the spark that reignites the embers of a dying fire.

He’s so tired of being cold.

“I just want to know that you’ll be happy,” Jack says after a moment—softly, like he’s afraid he might shatter Davey if he speaks any louder, sending the broken shards of him scattering into nothingness. Davey’s not sure he’s wrong. “And I know you, David, and this isn’t making you happy.”

“This is crazy,” Davey breathes out, and it’s not what he means to say but it comes out regardless. “It’s... Jack, this is insanity.”

“Who cares about what’s sane?” Jack says. “Fuck sanity.”

“Jackie.”

“Tell me you’re happy,” Jack says, and the gentleness of the command doesn’t make it any less compelling. “Tell me you’re happy, that you think you’ll be happy with all this, and I’ll drop it. I’ll drop it right this second, I swear.”

Davey’s eyes slip shut. He breathes in and breathes out, feeling his ribs press against that band in his chest, the last threads of it holding fast.

“Please, Dave,” Jack murmurs. “Please.”

In and out. In and out.

And the wire snaps.

“Okay,” Davey says, fingers tightening around Jack’s, his lone anchor as the world tilts out from underneath him. “Okay.”

“You’ll—?”

“Let me pack a bag,” Davey agrees.

Cue road trip shenanigans. The only people that they tell before they leave are Medda, Crutchie, and Les. Both boys have some money saved up from their part-time jobs but Medda gives them a credit card to use on the trip and helps them get things set up to finish out their last couple months of school through online/remote methods. Even still, it’s a lot of frugal, simple, happy living on the road. They drive without any goals or expectations, taking in the sights and the beauty of the countryside, sleeping in Jack’s car and in various motels.

Davey starts to get better. Just, the freedom of getting to make choices for himself and dropping some of the stressors in his life. His parents are angry, then confused, then worried, then begrudgingly accepting, then actually accepting. Medda helps mediate back home, and they eventually realize that they’ve been suffocating their son. Davey makes no promises about coming home or continuing on with college.

At some point, Davey realizes that he’s in love with Jack and has been for a while. He’s not sure what to do about this, or even if he should do anything about it. Because Jack is wonderful, he’s the best friend he’s ever had, the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and the thought of anything jeopardizing that makes Davey’s heart hurt. Until, one night they’re out somewhere in the desert, staring up at the stars from the roof of Jack’s car. Davey’s been telling stories about all the different constellations, pointing out each one as he goes, and he turns to look at Jack only to find that Jack is already staring at him, and the look on Jack’s face is just....

“Oh,” Davey says, and he’d always imagined that a realization like this would hit like a bolt of lightning. Instead it’s like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day. “You’re in love with me.”

Jack blinks at him, then lets out a soft chuckle, easy as anything. “Just now realizing that, are we?”

Davey stares.

“You didn’t say anything,” he points out, perhaps needlessly.

“I wasn’t exactly hiding it,” Jack responds, tilting his head back towards the stars. “And ‘sides, you weren’t ready to hear it.”

A length of silence stretches between them, not uncomfortable but more charged than it had been.

Eventually Davey says, “What if I am?”

“What do ya mean?” Jack asks.

“What if I’m ready to hear it, now?”

Jack turns towards him, and for the first time some of the relaxation slips from his posture, his spine straightening from it’s casual slump into something more active, more engaged, ready to pursue.

“S’that so?” he rumbles.

“Yeah,” Davey says, wetting his lips. “That’s so.”

Something something, getting together, romantic moments on the hood of/in the backseat of Jack’s car, something something ending.

The whole thing would be very dramatic and romantic, but ultimately about how home and freedom can be in the safety of another person, just like the song. Tada, I guess? 😅😅

Working title, “we’ll be on the road like some country song”

00000

@bound-for-santa-fe

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

Hello! Love your blog. I was wondering if I could get some typing help? I have a general idea of what I am, but that’s not saying much since I have a tendency to hop between a few of them (INTJ, ENTJ, ESTJ specifically). Either way, hopefully you can help me settle it.

I’m 22 and about to graduate from college. It’s been a journey, because I’ve transferred twice and changed plans a few times, but that’s the proper college experience, I think. One transfer closer to home can be owed to depression and Covid, while the first was simply me not meshing with the campus. I’m not too worried about how it’ll affect my grad school apps due to good grades and valid reasons.

Despite the schooling-related indecision, I tend to get an idea of what I want, then fixate on it heavily. Example: I recently tried to publish a novel I’ve been working on for years now. Realistically, I know the odds of getting your first work published and making enough money to start a career on it are beyond low, but a big part of me thought “yeah, except I worked on this draft consistently all these months and this feels right, so it has to pay off” – of course, it didn’t. That’s not to say it wasn’t worth it, but I’ve come to accept it won’t be that easy, so I’m going to focus on a job with more security first lol. That means proceeding with law school. Some friends might think I’m selling my soul by putting my dreams on the back burner. I disagree, though, because if writing is meant to be I can still make it happen this way but with more security. Plus, I’m used to having some higher objective to motivate me through each day, and I don’t like feeling aimless. To me, that would be settling for less: wasting time working next to minimum wage at some place I can’t see myself staying.

I’d like to think of myself as spontaneous despite knowing I’m really not. When I’m with friends, maybe, but I’m more than happy to do nothing on Friday nights, knowing I’ll be able to wake up early tomorrow and do whatever I’m doing at a decent time. That being said, I would be happy to hop on a flight across the world if someone offered to pay the way. I love travel, so I’d hope to find a career that makes that possible. The same goes for whatever work I’m doing. Ideally, I could move from place to place as I do my job, because I fear being rooted will keep me from seeing everything I’d like to see.

I’m definitely an introvert dichotomy wise, but if group work appears, I’m happy to make a plan and remind everyone when a due date is near, and I expect them to follow through or provide some forewarning. I’m not outright nasty when someone inevitably slips up, but I’m not going to give them an excuse either. Can’t relate since I’ve never had a problem with procrastination. Like, I’d say I’m procrastinating, but to me procrastinating is choosing not to get ahead on the project due next week while I have spare time now. That makes me sound like a robot or a liar, but I’m mostly just very aware of my limitations and have learned how to manage work in a way that keeps me from having to stress.

I have no idea how to end this. Quick notes? I’m ambitious but not competitive – literally cannot relate to envy, because I don’t think someone having something means you can’t have it too – you just have to work on/for it. I’m not very curious lmao. Like, I’m as curious as the average person, but I don’t care about how things work (Ti slacking?). Uhh, fandoms annoy me. Like, seeing fans distort characters and needlessly project onto them in cringe ways makes my brain itchy. I’ve been called insensitive. I can easily cut someone off after finding, for a fact, that they’re being manipulative. Whatever baggage they have, I don’t care. I don’t see the point in fighting for a relationship when a “friend” is working against you. I’m also the “advice friend” because I don’t have drama and seem to know how to diffuse it easily or cut it out completely. Now that I think about it, all of my closest friends have a lot of anxiety, so maybe I collect them and care for them a little since I have none.

Hopefully that wasn’t too much useless info. I think I’m mainly struggling on differentiating between lower Ne vs Lower Se. My indecision comes in rare bouts, so maybe that’s the weak Ne manifesting. Or maybe I’m lower Se for forgetting the larger scheme by focusing on material things like getting to travel and making a high salary? Whatever. These are things most people prioritize, though. Let me know if you need any specifics. Also, thank you for taking the time to read this! I really appreciate how informative your blog is and all the resources you share.

Hi anon,

To be honest I am really not sure based on this, and it might be good for you to revisit this after a little bit of time out of school. I would rule out the Ti-Fe axis, but I can actually see arguments for either high Te or high Fi My guess is high Ni if you have high Te you don't really sound like a high Si user - and part of what is tripping me up the most is that you said a lot of things that make me thing of high Fi and the spontaneity of Se or Ne, but there's a lot here that really sounds intuitive but distinctly not like an Ne user. So I actually think there are arguments for either INTJ or ISFP, and I actually lean a little more towards "ISFP with good discipline/time management" than INTJ.

Here's my thought process, which hopefully can get you started.

I do feel like transferring twice is a little abnormal (not bad, just more than the typical college experience of maybe one transfer and changing one's major once or twice) but COVID did fuck with things more than usual so no conclusions there.

The fixation on writing a novel and the long-shot of gaining enough success to focus on that full time - particularly right out of school or even before graduation - is either intuitive or possibly high Fi. I really do not think an ESTJ would have that idea - not that they wouldn't be a writer, but I don't think they would have had the same expectations surrounding payoff and would have assumed from the start that this will not be their career initially. For that matter I have my doubts on ENTJ, but it could be possible for INTJ.

The part about spontaneity actually fits really well with auxiliary Se or Ne, in that those types at your age will have moderation from Ni or Si respectively and will often want a combination of stability but also the ability to travel a lot and move around. The example you gave actually still seemed very spontaneous; a lot of ExTJs for example might really dislike doing nothing on a Friday night and would instead have something planned. What you describe sounds very go-with-the-flow, just in a low-key way.

The part about procrastination indicates that Ne is probably off the table but Se is possible; some SPs are pretty good at being realistic about getting things done and it sounds like you don't have the high Te motivation of "I must get this done early" (not that high Te users can't procrastinate or do things on time but not down-to-the-wire).

I often tie ambition/competitive nature to enneagram more than MBTI, but I will say a lot of Te users and especially Te-doms tend to be both. They don't have to be (and if they're only one, usually it's ambition over competition), but it's pretty common. Curiosity is complicated but not caring about how literally everything works does seem like it would rule out Ti and I'd fully agree there. The part about being frustrated by fandom distortion of characters is relatable to me and I feel that comes from a place of sensing, ie, were you not paying attention to canon, so that seems like a point towards high Se for you. The parts about advice and interpersonal relationships mostly just reinforce that you sound more like someone on the Fi-Te axis, which you already suspected, but again...being the advice friend, particularly from a caring position, seems more high Fi to me than INTJ; a lot of IxTJs (and definitely ExTJs) at your age are just not emotionally ready for that level of patience with anxiety. I know I wasn't.

I would also say focusing on the material things (travel, a liveable salary) is more in line with higher Se! Te users do have a measure of pragmatism, so again, can't rule out INTJ, but the travel especially is what's making me think Se is pretty high in your stack.

All in all? My guess is an ISFP with good time management skills, possibly with an enneagram 6 adding to the stability/pragmatism. That said I wouldn't totally rule out INTJ (possibly also enneagram 6?); I just think it's less likely.

[lilallama]

(Sorry if I spell something wrongly lol) Idk, This is my opinion? Gryffindor, Jungkook. Hufflepuff, Taehyung & Yoongi. Ravenclaw, Namjoon & Jin. Slytherin, Jimin & Hobi??? I literally just searched the meaning of each house and just picked one based on the personality shown. Also, If you don't think this matches them, Sorry ;-;

[Don't worry, sweetie ^^. You don't have to apologise! 💕🍑]

Hoseok is a lot more two faced than I actually tend to show. The way he presents himself is mostly a mask. While he seems mostly calm on the outside, he's actually quite the opposite on the inside. Out of all the boys it'd be easiest for him to manipulate/influence Y/n (@bangtans-apollo Tae is quacking-) and he's aware of that. That's one of the reasons why they started the club 1. To protect Y/n, 2. The club concept came because it'd be easier to meet up and they would automatically get a clubroom and 3. Hoseok threatened to tell on them if they don't join, he'd make Y/n despise each one of them.

He is a strong leader (one of the Slytherin traits), I try to make him resourceful (but I am not myself so that might not shine through too much), he is definitely cunning. The whole ordeal with wanting to be with Y/n no matter what is pretty ambitious, I'd say. And lastly the traditionalism trait, he is very into tradition and has to keep his domestic fantasies with Y/n a secret. His parents raised him very traditional, he would hate it if (female) Y/n would ask him out first or would propose first and would at first frown upon his attention to (male or non binary) Y/n.

All in all Slytherin seems very accurate.

Now concerning Jimin; similar to Hoseok he too can be a two faced snake. He doesn't hide his true thoughts from Y/n or the boys, if anything he overshares sometimes (one time he started talking to Taehyung about some... rather inappropriate things concerning Y/n. That got his Y/n privilege taken away for a whole month). And despite practically pleading to be the "dumb bimbo" stereotype, he is surprisingly clever and intelligent. Before Highschool, before he made his first experiences with popular boys, he was a straight A's and B's student. Yet once he had his first boyfriend, he discovered that the people surrounding him typically preferred the dumb blondes. (He actually broke up with the captain of the football team for Y/n.)

He also sometimes displays ambitious, just in a whiney sort of way. Self preservation is definitely something. Unlike Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon or Jeongguk, he wouldn't let himself be killed for Y/n's sake. If Y/n were to be killed he would end up deluding himself into thinking a person who looks similar to them is them and would force Y/n's personality and style on them. Cunningness is 100% accurate. He's fake. He pretends to be a silly sweetheart who loves everyone but will spread rumours about you, blame things on you etc. and everyone believes him. His cunningness concerning Y/n is more whiney than anything.

So I do think Jimin fits Slytherin.

Namjoon was raised by strict parents who forbade him a tremendous amount of things and painted his world for him. It was engraved in his head, he was going to be the CEO of their company one day. Yet despite everything he still had a head of his own. Maye it was because if his high IQ that he understood that his parents weren't the only opinion in his life. Don't get me wrong, they still left him scarred (sadly literally, as his father once hit him bloody) and traumatised but not without a mind of his own. Ever since he was small creativity and originality was something he admired and loved. It was partly reason of why he fell for Y/n, their individuality, their mind, their heart, their soul.

We will not need to discuss intelligence, it's a trait he undoubtedly has. He is always willing to learn and showed interest in many different things before Y/n captured his focus. He is most likely one of the wisest members as he is aware of how twisted his love for them truly is (once again something I tend to fail at portraying) and tried to stop it when it started. But somehow that only made everything worse and by now he doesn't care anymore at all. When he was a child he used to be more openly curious than nowadays (as it caused him many punishments from his parents).

I feel that Namjoon would fit Ravenclaw.

Seokjin was spoiled all his life. His parents adored him, other kids adored him, everyone adored him. While he might've acted oblivious he knew that it's because of his money. Similar to Jimin, Seokjin changed when he entered high school. While he always was a pretty intelligent and well behaved student (still very arrogant though) he then became less concerned with studies and once made a teacher cry (that was before he met Y/n). He loves standing out as an individual, that includes making anyone change who crosses his path with the same outfit (not in school as they wear a school uniform. But outside, yes, he has that much power. Everyone knows Kim Seokjin).

As said before, Seokjin is far from stupid. He is a very intelligent individual but doesn't show the extent of his nolage. Instead aiming for a cool "Queen B" persona. He is witty with his comebacks (something I cannot write because I do not possess that superpower), he's quick with his words. He holds respect for people who are 60+ years old as he believes they've been through a lot in life already. These people have wisdom he could only gain by experience and that he respects (there is one very sweet lady that lives alone in a very big mansion a few streets away from his penthouse. He always visits her because he loves her genuine kindness. When he met Y/n she recently passed away and he saw a part of her in them).

Seokjin could qualify for a Ravenclaw.

Taehyung was raised by a very Christian family that he still cherishes very much. Because of their intense belief he was raised to worship. He never fell in love, so when Y/n crossed paths with his, he started showing love how he's used to it (Out of all the boys Taehyung is straight up insane. Something in his brain might be wired wrong, there is no explanation on why he likes them, on why he believed that's what love is because his parents treated him with normal, familiar love. So he is simply sick, there is no "saving" him. He's better of in a mental hospital). But he was always a very kind boy. Giving instead of taking, never wanting anything in return. Out of everyone, Taehyung was the one who welcomed new students and made tons of friends. But he grew out of it as his focus turned to art. He aimed to make his parents proud so he didn't have time for friends.

His loyalty is unlike any other. You could torture him half dead and he'd still forgive you, stay loyal to you, serve you. He is Y/n's servant. He works hard on improving his artistic abilities and also to maintain fairly good grades. For Y/n any labour he'd have to be put through would seem like a blessing. Another trait for Hufflepuff would be fairness and he surely is fair. As one of the least jealous members of the club he really only cares if Y/n's okay with what's happening or could get hurt (he always kets the other members have more privileges than he has because he believes it'd be not only greedy but prideful to want Y/n to hinself. He avoids any sin when it comes to Y/n, envy, wrath, pride, sloth, nothing will ever come near his modern day Jesus).

Taehyung definitely is a Hufflepuff.

If the boy who works two parttime jobs, to pay for rent, bills and food, cleans the shabby apartment by himself because his alcoholic mother is busy messing it up again, yet still treats his mother with kindness, only to be treated like trash by seven more powerful and successful guys in his school who all like the same person he does and still manages to maintain the position as intern and honour roll student at a prestigious school for roch people, isn't in Hufflepuff then I don't know what. This poor soul is incredibly sensitive and kind. He isn't judgemental (as he himself is used to people judging him). All round very sweet.

I think it's very clear that he's very diligent and hard working. He holds great passion for music and enjoys writing poetry, a very sensitive soul. Yoongi isn't someone to complain about something being unfair (cough cough Jimin cough cough) or try and steal Y/n away from them. His day dreams consist of imagining Y/n liking him back, but he is certain that would never happen (according to you guys, it seems a lot of you would pick Yoongi if you'd get to decide). Not only is Yoongi kind but loyal as well, he'd never imagine leaving anyone behind even his useless mother.

Yoongi is 1000% a Hufflepuff.

Jeongguk tends to be hot tempered, he goes from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. Everything in life seems like a challenge to prove he's better than others think (his father was a notorious serial killer who killed twenty one people yet got away with a ten year prison sentence and got released after six, ten months later Jeongguk was born). In truth he did not care for anyone else, only Y/n. So all tge chivalry he could muster was directed at them.

He is one brave guy who doesn't get easily scared (I guess living with as well as being a serial killer at sixteen years old desensitised him). Jeongguk is courageous just not in/for a positive way/purpose. He deluted himself into thinking that Y/n needs protection, HIS protection. He once attacked a teacher because they were helping Y/n with a question, that's very daring (more like stupid) just not in a good way. A (still not) more positive example of his daringness is when he wants to impress Y/n. He hung from a skyscraper for five minutes doing pullups, just to inpress them. One time he also jumped across his luxurious pool at home (and almost slipped, almost bashing his head in) just to prove that he can jump further than someone they talked about.

I could very much picture him as a Griffendor.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please consider reblogging it. Thank you for reading

[spookyboywhump]

Mayhaps a cool prompt??? Young Everett and Eli at home, sitting together, Everett comforting Eli through fears about future planning?

Hi hello I loved this, and also I’m so sorry in advance for the second half of this drabble because it just kinda happened. Also apparently everything I write with these boys ends up being 2000+ words and a lot of dialogue

CW: Mentions of a neglectful parent

***

 Elias tiredly stared at the screen in front of him, reading and rereading the same paragraph several times, trying to will his brain to cooperate and focus for once. His eyes kept straying away though, glancing around the dark room, looking back to the screen and going over the several tabs he had open, occasionally he’d switch tabs to choose a new song to play on low volume, he usually wasn’t able to focus without music- though right now, even that wasn’t enough. 

 He sighed and moved the laptop off his lap, setting it on the bed and tiredly rubbing his eyes. It was almost midnight, and he already dreaded school the next day because he knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep. He considered going to try and find something to eat, wondering if that might’ve helped him focus, but he already knew he wouldn’t find anything and he didn’t want to waste his time, not more than he already was anyway. 

 He perked up when he heard the front door to the apartment open, Everett always tried to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake their mom but the door creaked no matter what they tried to do to fix it. Eli liked the warning, liked not being startled when someone came home. It took all his self control to not leap off his bed and go to greet him, he was usually tired when he got home from work and he didn’t want to bother him, though he knew Everett would say he wasn’t. It didn’t take long for him to wander back to their room though, coming in with a plastic bag from the store down the street hanging off his arm. 

 “Hey,” Eli said, looking up at him from where he sat, “How was work?”

 “Exhausting.” He sighed, reaching into the bag and taking out a can, passing it to Elias as he sat down at the desk between their beds, facing his younger brother. “What are you up to?” He asked, gesturing to the computer.

 “School stuff. Looking at colleges and all that, or, trying to anyway. My eyes keep unfocusing.” He said, popping the tab off the energy drink and taking a swig from the can. “Actually, all of me keeps unfocusing.” 

 “You should go to bed then.” Everett told him, though he had been the one to bring him more sugar to keep him up through the night, even getting a can for himself. “Why are you worrying about schools and stuff anyway, aren’t you like, only the second year in high school? You have time, right?” 

 “I guess I have time but, it can’t hurt to start looking early. It’s more wishful thinking than anything.” He shrugged, leaning over to the computer, switching tabs to turn off the music still playing. 

 “What do you mean “wishful thinking”?” He asked.

 “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to actually be able to go to any of them.” He shrugged.

 “What makes you see that? You’re a fucking genius, Eli, you could get into any school you wanted.” He leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs. 

 “It’s not a matter of intelligence or grades, it’s a matter of money. You know, that thing we’re chronically lacking in.” He snickered, setting the can he held on the desk beside him. 

 “Yeah, but aren’t there like, scholarships and shit? I don’t know, I didn’t really get that far, but I’m sure there’s something you could do.”

 “There is, if I could somehow manage going to school all day and working every hour that I’m not at school, homework and assignments be damned. I don’t know if I could even get a job though, and if I lost that job then I’d be fucked.” He said, having already overthought every terrible scenario that could come to pass. He sighed, anxiously running a hand through his hair. “There’s no way to guarantee that it would work out, and that’s assuming I even got accepted in the first place.” 

 “Don’t worry about the money thing, you know I’ll help you.” Everett assured him. “I don’t want you trying to work and go to school at the same time anyway, that would be too much. Besides, you still have time, if you really wanted to you could try working in the summer to save up at least some money.”

 “It’s not… It’s not just the money thing.” He finally admitted, staring down at his lap. “I already know where I wanna try to go, and I’ve already looked at scholarships and stuff, it’s just… it’s out of state, y’know? So I would… I would have to leave…” 

 “... Yeah? Isn’t that a good thing?” He laughed. “I would’ve fucking killed to get away from here when I was your age.”

 “Would you come with me then?” He asked, almost hopefully. “If… if we could just… move there… if you were at least close by, then, I don’t know, maybe…” He said, slowly trailing off when he saw the look on his brother’s face, he already knew what he was going to say. 

 “Eli, you know I can’t leave, not for good like that. Mom needs me around, and… and I think it would be good for you to go out on your own like that. You don’t need me around, you’re more than capable of handling yourself.” He told him, moving to sit beside Elias on his bed. He put his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as he anxiously picked at the skin around his nails. 

 “It would be easier with you around though… I’ve never just… been away from you…” He’d always been anxious over the thought of being away from Everett, when he was little he’d even cry when he left the house. A part of him knew it was kind of inevitable, either Everett would leave eventually or he would, if only to get away from their mother. He didn’t like to think about it though, the thought of it made him sick. 

 “Well… it might be good for you to be away from me. You’re a super smart kid, Eli, and I know you have big plans for your career and all that. You shouldn’t hold yourself back just because we’d have to be apart. It’ll happen someday, might as well give it a try now- or, well, in two or three years that is.” He told him.

 “Yeah, but- but what if something goes wrong? What-what if I get hurt, or sick, what if you get hurt? What if I need you?” He asked, rambling away as his anxiety got the better of him. 

 “Hey, hey you’ll be fine.” Everett said gently. “We’d still be able to talk, you would come home on breaks, it’s not like it would be for forever.” He told him. 

 “But it would still be a long time. Longer than I’ve ever been away from home, away from you… and that’s even assuming I could get in. I still have a lot of work to do before then, I sure as hell have to keep my grades up-”

 “Kid, I’ve seen your report cards, I don’t think you’ve ever had below an A.”

 “Yeah but-but what if something happens?!” He cried, getting worked up all over again. “What if- I don’t even know! What if I just suddenly forget how to do anything, what if I start messing up, what if I miss a few days and I can’t ever catch up, what-what if-”

 "Elias.” Everett said sternly, and it was enough to shut him up, his brother hardly ever used his full name. “You’re working yourself up over nothing. Just because you can come up with some wild scenario doesn’t mean it’s going to happen, if anything, it’s really, really unlikely it will. I told you, you’re smart, you shouldn’t let all your anxiety hold you back. You could do fucking anything you wanted, you have got to take advantage of that.” Elias groaned, pulling away from Everett only to hide his face in his hands.

 “Every time I think about it though, it’s… it’s fucking terrifying. It’s so fucking scary, and on top of, well, everything else, the schoolwork I already have, and the chance of mom ending up in the hospital again, and you working all the fucking time… it’s scary, and thinking about what’s gonna come after I graduate is even scarier…” 

 “You don’t have to think about it right now then.” Everett told him, putting his hand on Eli’s back. “I’m sure it is scary, so give yourself a break. You still have a lot of time to figure it out, at least for right now, just take a break.” He said. “And you know, you can talk to me if you need to. I might not understand everything you have to say, but at the very least I can listen, and try to help you the best I can.”

 “But I don’t wanna bother you…” He murmured.

 “Eli, you could never bother me. I don’t think you’ve ever bothered anybody in your life-”

 “Mom would say different.”

 “She doesn’t count. Listen, I just want you to know, I’m always ready to listen to you, I’m always ready to help you. I’ve been with you this far, I’m not leaving anytime soon.” He told him. Elias was silent for a while before finally lowering his hands, lifting his head to look at him.

 “Promise…?”

 “Of course I promise.” He smiled at him, reaching up and ruffling his hair before pulling him into a tight hug, Eli finally cracking a smile as he leaned into him. 

 He could never figure out how he did it, but Everett always knew what to say to calm him down, to slow the frantic flow of thoughts that would make him panic when left unattended. He knew that someday they’d have to exist away from each other, and he didn’t know what he would do when that day came, but for right now, all he could do was cling to his brother, and be thankful he was here for him in the moment.

 ***

 Everett sat on his bed, staring at the card in his hand. It was early the next morning, Eli had just left for school and he was only awake because he always made sure to say goodbye before he left. He was alone now, staring at a phone number he’d been debating calling. The man who had given him the card wasn’t as shady as his offer was, he was older, well dressed, he clearly had money and he seemed polite. He wasn’t pushy, unlike everyone else who had offered him a shady job, which made him feel a little less uneasy about this. 

 The man had told him if he changed his mind, he should call him, and he’d handed him that card. He’d dismissed it at first, left it in his jacket pocket and almost forgotten about it. The job he had now was fine, but the man had offered more money, at the time though, he didn’t think it was worth it to risk it, but the offer was starting to appeal to him more and more. He’d gotten Eli talking the night before, and while his brother was in the shower he’d looked into the school he was interested in. Even if he had his tuition covered, there was still the cost of necessities, money in case of an emergency, the cost of getting him there and home on breaks. He couldn’t blame the kid for getting nervous, it was a lot, but maybe, if this offer was as good as it sounded, it would be manageable. 

He knew there was still a couple years until they had to worry about that, but even easing their current financial issues sounded good to him, and he knew it would take some stress off Eli. He knew their mom wasn’t doing well, she’d already spent time in the hospital twice that year and at this point he was the only one who could provide for them. He was just barely making enough to pay rent, keep their phones and internet going, only for Eli to be able to do schoolwork, and he knew they never had enough food- even though he knew he gave money to their mom. If he had the time he’d do the shopping himself, but he didn’t, and he knew Eli didn’t, and even though he felt guilty for it, he was angry that their mother was so unreliable, and that his brother was suffering the most for it. 

 He’d eventually reasoned with himself that it couldn’t hurt to call, couldn’t hurt to get more information. If this really was some miracle, if it was as good as it sounded, then he’d be happy he did it and things would improve, and if it turned out to be a scam or another desperate pervert, then he could forget it ever happened and go back to struggling like normal. It couldn’t hurt though, so finally he dialed the number, and hoped for the best.

[dino-nugget7]

A Manifesto Against The School System

As of writing this I am a second year Public High School Teacher. I won’t be able to live with myself if I spend another year at it. Literally, I feel like a bit of a monster for deciding to finish out this school year rather than quitting right now. But we do what we must to survive, my students won’t be less oppressed because I left, and if nothing else, it gives me an opportunity to strategize about what I can do to aid in revolutionizing school because authentic alternatives to public school exist but none I have found have been intersectional enough to replace public education without excluding the kids who would most benefit from escaping the main school system here in America.

Some of the reasons I did not understand how oppressive school actually is, are that my interests and hobbies happened to align very neatly with the “core” classes, and that even though I grew up very poor and moved around a lot as a kid, we eventually settled and I went to a well funded high school that had just about any elective and/or after school club that I might be interested in trying and then some. During that time, I came to see school as a place where I could explore my passions and escape my home situation. So I figured I would love to pay it forward and go be a teacher.

I recognized at least, the privileged position I came from and decided I wanted to go learn how to teach in settings as different from my high school as possible. Which is why I went and got special permission for most of my classroom placements throughout the teaching program to be at alternative schools. In Colorado at least, alternative schools are small public schools which primarily serve students identified as “at risk”, which is shorthand for “Statistically more likely to drop out than the general population for one reason or another.”

I did not know when I asked to be placed in one, but learned within days of being there that most people that even know alternative schools exist, think of them as the places where “the bad kids” go. I realized very quickly that they are actually places filled with kids who have experienced a lot of trauma in and out of school and don’t respond to that trauma the way adults want them to respond. I came to adore kids at alternative schools because they remind me of my younger siblings.

Like my oldest brother, many of them find school mind numbingly easy and boring and have much more pressing matters to devote their mental energy to.

Like my middle brother, many of them have spent so much time around teachers who do not understand neurodivergence that have been convinced of the lie that they are weird, dumb and/or lazy and because of that, trying to participate in school is like hitting their head on a brick wall.

Like all of my brothers and my sisters, they have a ton of skills that they are brilliant at, but that are not prioritized by the school system, so they never pursue them, such as construction, music, makeup and programming.

Many, if not most of them come from living situations full of abuse and neglect and/or poverty so they don’t have the mental or emotional space to worry about much beyond survival, and not only haven’t learned how to make and achieve long term goals, but have never had the luxury of a stable enough environment for that kind of planning to be worthwhile.

All that being said, something that you only realize if you actually work in a few public alternative schools, as I have done through college and my current job, is that the name is actually an oxymoron.

What started me down the path of considering and researching all the ways school is an oppressive system, was a conversation I had with a student in my first year teaching. He was learning about chemical reactions and safety and asked me the infamous question, “Why do I have to learn about this?” to which I said “Because everything is chemicals and understanding how they can interact with one another and ways they can harm you can keep you safe when you do things like clean or cook.” To which he replied, “Well no offense but I have no idea how this shit relates to cooking and please don’t tell me because its not like I’m actually going to remember it when I am cooking, and I already know how to clean safely because of work. But you’re still going to make me learn this boring shit anyways so seriously, why do we have to learn about this?”

I paused to consider what he was asking. I had interpreted, as the system trained me to, that the question he was asking was, “what value does this knowledge hold?” But what he actually meant was “Why are you making me waste my time learning about this thing that I never asked to learn about?” So I replied, as a sort of test of my new understanding, “It’s part of the physical science curriculum the Education Department thinks is important for high schoolers to learn.” He was taken aback, “Wait, you don’t decide what stuff we learn about? What’s even the point of teachers then? Why don’t they just give us a list of all their stupid stuff they think we should know so we can get on with our lives?” He had a point and I have spent a lot of time reflecting on and growing from that conversation.

Sure, there are some key differences that make alternative schools slightly more tolerable than your standard 800-4,000 kid high school. Class sizes are smaller so students get more individualized help. We get funding to help students access things such as food, clothes, hygiene products, and healthcare and know students well enough that we actually know which kids are lacking these resources. We have slightly more leeway than traditional schools to create innovative lessons. We don’t give out homework.

But public alternative schools are still oppressive in most of the ways that the big schools are. I’m sure none of this will be a surprise to most readers, but I want you to really consider how restricted kids in public school are, how restricted you probably were in school as you read through this.

School starts early in the morning and students have to constantly shift mental gears throughout the day due to a tight schedule of constantly rotating classes and a very short lunch break. Throughout the day, bells tell students when they can’t or must move around or eat. Students have to ask when they need to go to the bathroom or get water and teachers cannot go at all outside of their plan period because students are not trusted to be in the classroom without an adult even for a few minutes. They have no control over who they share space with and very little control over their ability to leave that space if it conflicts with their needs. There is a strict dress code which disproportionately targets marginalized students. Students are expected to be sociable but not given nearly enough opportunities to actually socialize. The school keeps records of everything the student has ever gotten in trouble for, every class the student has taken, every grade they have received, their “class rank,” and every intervention program the student is part of. And like every public school, alternative schools must follow state curriculum standards and by extension, grading, data collection, and required testing. On the surface it might not seem like it, but that last point is actually the most insidious one and its the one that has followed students into remote learning during the pandemic.

According to the people who decide how schools work, there are four factors of student choice: These factors are Time, Place, Pace, and Path. For example, if I am running a unit on plate tectonics, rather than giving students a worksheet and telling them to work on it as we go through a slideshow and turn it in at the end of class, I could put them in groups, give them an online choice board of three different but roughly equivalent projects relating to plate tectonics to choose from, each with different rubrics for completion and tell them they can turn it in at any time in the next two weeks. And then instead of devoting class time to direct instruction, I would give them a variety of resources to peruse and teach them how to research more and let them choose what aspects of plate tectonics to focus on and how to present their information. Now, this is certainly a few steps in the right direction away from making kids sit in rows and listen to the teacher drone on about plate tectonics while they take notes. But it misses the most important factors of choice in my eyes, the things that I would be fired for if I actually gave them the choice about: How students spend their time and what they are allowed to prioritze.

None of this is to say that expecting kids to learn is inherently fucked up or that teaching inherently makes one an oppressive person. On the contrary, authentic teaching and learning are vital to our ability to solve our problems and grow as people. If all students were given the opportunities to spend their childhoods learning things that they were actually interested in, to explore the full breadth of knowledge that humans have compiled at their leisure without timelines or milestones except the ones they set for themselves, to socialize with people of all ages, to authentically participate in society both as learners and as educators, as leaders and as team members, the world wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be a lot less soul crushing.

Now, I mentioned at the beginning of this piece that authentic alternatives do exist.  To get you started on researching what’s out there, I recommend starting with Sudbury schools and the unschooling movement.

But unless these models somehow miraculously become a large and accepted enough presence to get government funding, or money ceases its hold on us all, the public school system will be the only one that most students, especially impoverished students, transient students, english language learners, and disabled students (especially those with profound disabilities) will have access to. Which is a damn shame and a problem I am committed to trying to figure out how to contribute to solving because those are the students whose lives would be most radically transformed for the better if they got the opportunities that these models provide.