i had to make this because frozen is making me freak out

anonymous asked:

Can you list the Ron moments that the movie missed our changed?... or maybe give a link to a post which already has the list.

Okay, this is going to be done from memory so bear with me. 

Philosopher’s Stone

  • Ron offering to share his food with Harry from the moment they meet.
  • Ron teaching Harry how to play wizard’s chess (this is kind of in the film but not explicitly so I thought I’d include it.)
  • Staying over Christmas with Harry and trying to cheer him up after the mirror incidents (I think they did film a part of this but it was a deleted scene for some reason ??? why ???)
  • RON BEING THE CALM ONE DURING THE DEVIL’S SNARE SCENE NOT HERMIONE (’But there’s no wood!’ ‘Are you a witch or not?’)

Chamber of Secrets

  • Constantly defending Harry from Draco
  • The scene where Draco calls Hermione a mudblood and it was actually Ron who new what the term meant and explained it, not Hermione
  • Visiting Hermione in the hospital wing after she turns herself into a cat and bringing her all her homework that she missed
  • Ron going into a freaking forest full of spiders and tackling his biggest fear. Even though he was shaking the entire time and is so terrified he can’t even speak by the end of it and actually /throws up/ afterwards, he still went and did it because it needed to be done and he wasn’t about to let Harry go alone. (Okay so this was in the films but I really don’t think they actually captured the gravity of it, instead choosing to turn Ron into comic relief… Again.)
  • Being the one to go to the hospital wing so that Hermione will have someone with her so she’s not alone and to explain what happened when she wakes up

Prisoner of Azkaban

  • Actually being really concerned about Scabbers’ health and buying the rat tonic for him
  • Actual background to the Crooksanks v Scabbers business instead of just villainising Ron for the sake of making Hermione seem better
  • When he was literally woken up by Sirius holding a knife over his bed, who, as far as anyone knew then, was a mass murderer??? Why isn’t this talked about more ??
  • ‘YOU ASKED A QUESTION AND SHE KNOWS THE ANSWER, WHY ASK IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE TOLD?’ 
  • Noticing Hermione’s weird af schedule and being the only one to aCTUALLY CARE about where she was going and what she was doing
  • Literally fucking pushing Harry out of the way when they see Sirius in dog form (who they think is The Grim) and consequently getting a broken leg + dragged by his arm into the Whomping Willow
  • Awkwardly patting Hermione on the head after she apologises, instead of that weird hug thing they share in the films
  • Taking on Buckbeak’s appeal and dedicating so much time and effort into his case. Call this boy lazy or apathetic again I dare you.
  • Standing up on a BROKEN LEG to tell Sirius, who, again, was thought to be a MASS MURDERER, that ‘If you want to kill Harry you’ll have to kill us too!’ whilst Hermione stood frozen in the corner
  • Making peace with Crookshanks at the end of the book by holding Pigwidgeon up for him to check that he isn’t evil (I love Ron so much)

Goblet of Fire

  • ‘We’ll pick you up on Sunday if you can come, and we’ll still pick you up on Sunday if you can’t’ (or something like that) when talking about the quidditch world cup
  • The background and reasoning behind the big fight with Harry (+the later argument they had where Harry threw the badge @ his head.)
  • The actual insecurity Ron suffered because of the dress robes, not just the comic relief side of it.
  • Helping Harry practice for the second and third tasks practically 24/7 (including letting Harry practice stunning on him!!! #dedication)
  • Getting Krum to sign his autograph + basically all of hIS HUGE CRUSH ON KRUM JFC
  • Just generally being there for Harry after Cedric even when Harry pushes him away

Order of the Phoenix

  • Again, just generally being there for Harry even when Harry is being an ass to him (+ the part where Ron desperately wants to tell him what’s going on but Hermione + all the adults insists that they can’t)
  • RON WEASLEY BECOMING A MOTHERFUCKING PREFECT
  • The year of quidditch which, although being an essential part of the book with the whole Umbridge arc, is not even MENTIONED in the film. Literally, it’s one of the only films that doesn’t feature quidditch yet it’s the book where I’d consider quidditch to be the most important.
  • Anyway, yes, quidditch. Ron getting a new broom and sneaking out to practice so he can try out for the team
  • HERMIONE KISSING HIM ON THE CHEEK FOR LUCK. I SCREAM.
  • Ron making it on the team and having very very very little confidence so he’s… quite terrible the first few matches.
  • The awful ‘Weasley is Our King’ song that Malfoy made and the Slytherins take to singing at. Every. Single. Match.
  • Ron gaining his confidence and destroying the other team at quidditch, during which, neither Harry or Hermione were actually there to witness it. And Ron is so happy and proud but when Harry and Hermione start talking about Grawp, instead of being petty and angry at them, he listens intently and tries to help
  • Always backing up Harry when Hermione is being slightly insufferable towards him and not really understanding of his needs. (e.g when she’s pressuring him to do better at occlumency and Ron tells her to back off)
  • The whole arc where Arthur gets injured and all the Weasleys are sat around the kitchen at Grimmauld place waiting for news + the parts in St Mungos (this was in the film a little but they really didn’t go into the effect it had on the Weasleys. Especially Ron and Ginny)
  • The miraculous plan they all come up with to get Harry into Umbridge’s office (which, admittedly, backfires, but hey. At least they tries) during which Ron plays a pivotal role, not just a struggling character in the background
  • Everything to do with the ministry tbh ??? From battling death eaters to the spell that makes him delirious to the brain almost suffocating him
  • Staying in the hospital wing with Hermione for the rest of the year and the scars all down his arms from where the brain attacked him

Half Blood Prince

  • When Hermione is talking about why girls find Harry attractive and Ron is all like ‘Look at me Hermione! I’m tall too! I have scars too!” 
  • Backing up Harry when he answers Snape’s question about inferi compared to ghosts (”Well what Harry said was the most useful! If I’m going to face an inferi I’m going to be looking for if it’s transparent not asking ‘excuse me are you the imprint of a departed soul?’” or something similar. Get wrecked Snape.)
  • All of the quidditch moments in this book are golden.
  • That moment where Hermione super awkwardly asks Ron to Slughorn’s party and Harry is just in the background like,,, what an interesting plant
  • Ginny antagonising Ron about never having kissed anyone and the subsequent Lavender disaster that followed
  • Everything to do with Lavender tbh. Like, their whole relationship, not just the comic version in the movies
  • Ron’s getting poisoned actually being a really serious thing and all his family showing up at the hospital wing
  • Pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to visit (Ron Weasley how dare you, your mother raised you better than this)
  • Okay, I really want to make a separate post about this but the whole Luna/Ron friendship in this one is gold
  • I feel like we as a fandom collectively forget this one but Ron and the rest of the DA fighting the death eaters with felix felicis whilst Harry is up the astronomy tower with Dumbledore
  • Holding Hermione at Dumbledore’s funeral ???? Honestly that’s all I need in life
  • RON ‘WE’RE WITH YOU WHATEVER HAPPENS’ WEASLEY VOWING TO ALWAYS BE AT HARRY’S SIDE INSTEAD OF SITTING IN THE BACKGROUND LIKE A STALE POTATO WHILST HARRY AND HERMIONE PLAN

Deathly Hallows

  • Giving Harry the how to charm witches book and actively trying to start a relationship with Hermione
  • Comforting Hermione when she’s upset and not being awkward about it !!!! Character development (I’m seeing a parallel to the head pat in PoA, anyone else?)
  • Standing up to the Minister of Magic at the age of seventeen like. Honestly Ron Weasley is such a badass I love him
  • Literally giving up a life of comfort and security to go and live as a fugitive in order to help Harry
  • Pushing Hermione the fuck out of the way when they’re found by Death Eaters near Charlesbury !!! Like, this boy is so brave and self-sacrificing I’m going to cry
  • Falling asleep holding hands with Hermione @ Grimmauld place
  • The severity of his splinching after the ministry debacle
  • The very real concern for his sister and Harry + Hermione’s apparent apathy that triggers the fight between him and Harry, not some motive entirely brought about by jealousy as the movies suggest
  • Okay, not Ron, but the movies really didn’t capture just how unable Harry and Hermione became without him. They didn’t talk to each other, they didn’t communicate in any way for like 95% of his absence. They were literally unable to function without him I’m so sad.
  • Saving Harry’s life and, importantly, the conversation they had afterwards where Harry reassured him that his insecurities were unfounded. And the hug. Where was my hug,Yates? Where was it?
  • Ron once again assuming his role as the heart of the trio; making Harry laugh, keeping the spirits up, getting them to function again.
  • Malfoy Manor. Just. Malfoy Manor. “NO YOU CAN HAVE ME, TAKE ME!” “HERMIONE! HERMIONE!” Literally being so distressed and worried for Hermione that he OFFERED UP HIS OWN LIFE FOR HERS AND LOST THE ABILITY TO THINK RATIONALLY. CAn we just. 
  • Even despite the mental anguish he’s going through, Ron still manages to come up with a solution for where Dobby should take them
  • Again, despite everything that’s happening around him, Ron does a near perfect imitation of Wormtail’s voice
  • Disarming Bellatrix fucking Lestrange
  • Managing to successfully apparate for the first time ever in a very high pressure situation in order to get Hermione to safety
  • Taking his shoes and socks off to lay on Dobby’s grave
  • Going back to Hogwarts and the reunion with the rest of his family; including Percy, which I really missed from the books
  • Literally like everything that happened during the battle of Hogwarts but especially:
  • “We’ve forgotten someone!” “Who?” “The house elves!” Like, guys, this is such a significant moment for his character and I understand completely why Hermione chooses this moment to kiss him 
  • How wrecked he was after Fred’s death. Like, in the books Ron is actually there to witness it. He sees his brother die. I am Not okay.
  • Hermione having to physically restrain him because he wants to go and get revenge for Fred
  • Ron punching Draco in his slimy little face “And that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight you two-faced bastard!”
  • Offering to be the one to go to the shrieking shack ?? ALone ?? He says something like ‘Harry you can’t go un case they see you, wait here with Hermione, and I’ll take the cloak and-” when they all know it could be a suicide mission. I’m.
  • BREAKING VOLDEMORT’S SILENCING SPELL
  • I’m sorry let me just re-iterate: RONALD WEASLEY BROKE A SILENCING SPELL MADE BY ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARDS TO EVER EXIST
  • Taking out Fenrir Greyback with Neville
  • Being the first to reach Harry after he defeated Voldemort, along with Hermione
  • Just the part where the trio go to Dumbledore’s office because I just. That’s such a nice and well rounded ending I’m going to cry
  • In the epilogue, practically everything about Ron is great but especially: “Don’t worry, it’s me, I’m famous”

In Conclusion

  • I love Ron Weasley so much
  • The films do not do him justice

- Admin Kat

(Feel free to reblog this with anything I’ve missed!)

Pillows - Peter Parker

request -  OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! Can you write a Peter Parker smut where the reader is Tony’s daughter and they’ve dating for a while now and one of the avengers hear them one night and eventually slip it to tony who freaks out because of the funny business in the heardquarters! I hope it makes sense

a/n - i had a lot of fun writing this and this became super duper long i’m sorry if this is a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker / spider - man fic if you’d like and follow!

I was sitting towards the top of my bed, a book sprawled on my lap while the moon was teasing me outside. It was close to one o’clock in the morning, and I found myself not being able to sleep for the second night in a row. My bed was always so cold and stiff at this type of night, and staring at the city view only made me more awake.

I sighed and closed my book, letting out a breath of laziness. It was at that point in the night where my inability to sleep caused me to become frustrated, falling back onto my pillow and staring up at the ceiling.

With my father being the leader of the Avengers himself, I would usually be deprived of sleep since Rogers and Barnes would be talking up a storm at the dining table while my own father and Barton was cracking open a bottle of wine. Everyone within the tower was asleep now, but it was still quite difficult to go to sleep.

I began to think about the other ways I could’ve been passing the time until my eyes became dreary, and then it hit me.

Peter might still be awake.” I thought to myself, heart beginning to pick up it’s pace.

Keep reading

A Killer’s Past & his PTSD

Back again with another analysis; and boy oh boy did this chapter meet and go beyond my expectations. First, let me start off by saying finally. The elusive and highly coveted second floor was finally shown to us viewers - and it was surprisingly mundane (when you compare it to the countless theories we had of bodies being all over the place or weird mommy memorabilia.) The shock of the second floor aside, what really had me Sang-shook - and I think all of us - was Sangwoo’s reaction, because for a while, many of us had debated on whether Sangwoo could feel anything. 

I’d like to explore Sangwoo’s breakdown a little. But please note, all of this is purely speculative, and Koogi’s proven to throw even the most complex theories a curve ball. So let’s get started:

Three words, and a whole world of depth.
“Something’s not right.”

This sentence stuck out to me. This moment burned itself into my mind. Why?Because I feel this was the moment Sangwoo was thrown back into the past, and he no longer just saw Bum on the floor. He saw a familiar picture, a scene in which he’d played a crucial role and was left vulnerable. I feel like this moment was Koogi’s way of mirroring, through Sangwoo’s eyes, what happened to Sangwoo’s mother. 

And I know, it’s a stretch guys. I’m aware that we don’t know what happened. Sangwoo hasn’t told us if he killed his parents, or if something else went down, but I feel this was a hint. I just couldn’t shake the feeling. And I caught a couple of signs before this; the first being Sangwoo’s peculiar way of speaking after he sees Bum’s blood running across the floor. It’s as if he reverts back to a childish state, and I think it carries more depth then being simply in “shock.”

“Make it go back.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Sangwoo is not a stranger to blood or guts. He’s killed countless women. He’s tortured and humiliated Bum before, and before this scene he even grabbed his bat to finish Bum off because he was pissed. And that makes sense, after all. Bum did something he could not control, and we all know how much Sangwoo needs his control. He’s not an amateur when it comes to human anatomy. He’s seen Bum bleed. He’s made Bum bleed. Given how he bandages Bum up later, he knows that the way Bum cut himself won’t kill him. So I thought, why the hell would he freak out like this? Why would he waste time trying to push the blood back when he’s clearly been more productive before. 

Instead of taking Bum upstairs immediately to stop the bleeding, he wigs out. The switch is flipped. He cups his hands and brings them together in a futile, almost child like attempt to make Bum stop bleeding, and this really disturbed me.

Then there’s this moment, and it clicked. 

It clicked, because I’ve had this moment.

Without getting too personal, I suffer from PTSD.

I’ve been abused as a child, and I was raped as an adult. It’s something that I battle with everyday, and there were times in my life where something, something so small and seemingly insignificant triggered a memory inside of me that just had me frozen. Just paralyzed with fear.

This frame, right here, took me back to all the times I stared off into the distance during topics of sexual assault, topics of abuse, and for that instant I relived the trauma. And this moment right here is when I think Sangwoo suffers a PTSD related flashback, and relives a moment that’s parallel to his past, which is why he reverts to a childish state. 

Whether it makes you upset or not, the fact of the matter is Oh Sangwoo is victim. He’s a murderer. Yes. A sociopath. Probably. But that doesn’t make the trauma he’s been through any less important or relevant to the person he is today. And while a mental illness isn’t a justification for murder or any of his actions, I think it’s a player.

PTSD: Symptoms may include nightmares or flashbacks

Avoidance of situations that bring back the trauma

Agitation, irritability, hostility, hyper-vigilance, self-destructive behavior. Hyper reactivity to stimuli.

Whether Sangwoo killed his mother, and was reliving that moment, is purely speculative. Whether his father killed his mother is again, purely speculative. But the question he posed to Bum at the end, about whether ‘Bum didn’t love him anymore because he was just like his father… is specific, and definitely mimicking words his own mother told him before. Soon after, he flies into a rage and almost drowns Bum. Perhaps, in the past, after his mother told him he was like his father, Oh Sangwoo flew into a similar fit of rage and killed her on accident… and the scene in the kitchen with the blood is him reliving that moment of fear and regret? Who can say. 

But I’m excited for what’s to come, and I’m even more excited to hear all your theories and thoughts. Bum is definitely someone he can’t leave behind anymore, but whether he loves Bum beyond using him to stave off his nightmares is something I’m dubious about. We’re definitely getting some important information here, and I was impressed with how vividly Koogi captured Sangwoo’s muddled mental state.

This chapter is my favorite thus far, and I’m pumped for what Koogi has in store. Thanks for reading.

Operation Cobra-Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x reader
Description: reader is in love with Jughead. Jughead is with Betty.
Warnings: SAD SAD SAD ANGST I’m on my way to the hospital to take my mom and I was feeling this after seeing a spoiler from 1x06 sigh
THIS HAS 4,274 WORDS AND IT TOOK ME FOUR DAYS CAN YOU BELIEVE
—————————

I watched it happen from the very beginning. I noticed the very first time Jughead looked at her differently, the very first time he blushed when she complimented him, the very first time Jughead showed signs of jealousy when Trevor had asked her out. I watched it all unfold from the very beginning.
When Jughead told me he and Betty kissed, I did my best to be the extremely supportive best friend, convincing him to show the pretty blonde he was interested in her. When he did, I helped him plan the entire date out, from where to when, to picking his outfit out for him since he was absolutely helpless when it came to dating. I smoothed out the shoulders of his shirt, fixed his beanie, and sent him on his way.

That night, when he came back to my house to replay all the highlights of his date, he had a smile on his face almost the entire time. It was something I had only seen a handful of times, so even though my heart was breaking, I was still happy that something made him smile this big, even if it wasn’t with me.
When Jughead and Betty started dating, I began to slowly lose my best friend. He and Betty were always going together on the “super sleuth” cases, and I was hardly ever invited despite being the graphic designer and editor for The Blue and Gold. It didn’t bother me though, because I figured I would just see Jughead at Pop’s. I was wrong.

Jughead and Betty liked their alone time. They hardly ever invited us to hang out with them, and when we did, the rest of us felt like we were intruding. If I did have any alone time with Jug, his nose was in his phone, texting Betty the whole time. As supportive as I tried to be for the both of them, I was tired of pretending. All I ever did was pretend.

I walked in to the blue and gold after school, the room vacant. Jughead had probably waited for Betty outside of her history class so they could walk together to the newsroom; he used to do that with me all the time.
I sighed, sitting down at one of the seats in the room and pulling out my laptop. I set it on the desk and began designing the cover for this week’s newspaper.

Eventually, Jughead and Betty showed up, not even noticing I had been in the room. They were chatting about something, both blushing and bumping each other playfully. I mentally rolled my eyes and kept my nose in my laptop, not wanting to watch them be all lovey-dovey or whatever. A minute passed, which turned in to five, and then ten, and then fifteen, and by this time I was beyond upset. Neither had said a word to me at all.

I finished the designs for the paper and quietly closed my laptop, zipping open my bag and stuffing it in before lifting it over my shoulder. I stood up, my chair emitting a sharp noise as the heel of the object scraped against the old tile floor. Jughead and Betty’s heads turned at the sound, watching me push my chair back in.

“Oh my gosh, y/n! When did you come in?” Betty asked. I know she didn’t mean it in a rude way whatsoever, she was one of my best friends, but it angered me. Deciding to keep my anger bottled in, I acted like I didn’t hear her, making my way towards the door of the classroom. I walked out, making my way down the hall.

“Y/n! Wait!” Jughead called my name, and a hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“What’s wrong?” Jughead inquired, his hand sliding down my arm to go to my wrist. I yanked my body back lightly, looking at him in surprise and disgust.

What’s wrong?” I repeated, my tone of voice obviously showing signs of outrage at this point. “Jughead, if you don’t know what’s wrong right now, then I guess we aren’t as close as I thought we were.” I turned away from him, walking down the hallway again.

Jughead grabbed my shoulder again, turning me and grabbing my hand.
“Don’t say that.” Jughead spoke softly, his jaw clenching.

Really? Jughead, you did not notice I was in the room for fifteen minutes! You did not become aware of my presence in the slightest! And that isn’t even the first time!” I screamed, shoving him away from me harshly. Jughead stumbled back, frozen in shock by what I had just done.

“You don’t even care about me anymore! I don’t even exist to you!” My fingers dug in to my palms as I yelled at him.

“So yeah, we aren’t as close as I thought we were. In fact, I’ve never been farther apart from you.” I turned, walking away again.

“y/n!“ Jughead called my name and I stopped.

"Don’t, Jughead.” I cut him off, turning to face him one more time. “For somebody who claims to be an amazing observer, you sure are pretty damn oblivious.” I walked down the hallway of the empty school, turning a corner and making my way home.

——————————————————-

It was 5:39 when my phone rang, interrupting me from my moping over Jughead and Betty. I had stayed home from school the past few days, blaming it on how “sick” I had been feeling, which was bullshit, but only I knew it was bullshit. Or so I thought.

“Hey Ronnie.” I answered the phone.” Now’s not a good time- “

“Too fucking bad, princess. Get your ass up, I’m here.” I heard a knock at my door downstairs and Veronica hung up. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me, rubbing at my nose a bit to make it look red and grabbed a box of tissues. I wadded a couple up and threw them in the trash so my fake sick story would still be believable.

I padded downstairs slowly, hearing the incessant knocking and ringing of my doorbell. I took a deep breath before answering the door. There stood one of my best friends, hands on her hips and an irritated look on her face.

“Alright, time to stop moping and start moving on.” The black-haired girl stepped in to my house, closing the door and pointing upstairs.

“Who said I was moping?” I fired back, dragging myself up the stairs.

“Oh, come on y/n! You may be able to fool Archie, Betty, Jughead, and the rest of the entire world, but you can’t fool me. I know you aren’t sick, I know you and Jughead fought, I know you like Jughead. Its written all over you!” Veronica flung open the door to my room and marched to my closet, digging through it like a wild dog.” It’s kinda sick, actually. You look at him with literal heart eyes.Honestly, I would have gone for somebody a little more chiseled, but hey, we all got our own kinks- “

“Ronnie.” I cut off her incessant rambling, “Why are you knee-deep in my clothes?”

“Because, sweetheart.” Ronnie stuck her head out of my closet.” There’s a party tonight, and Jughead and my future wife are going, and we are going to show those two idiots who they really belong with.” Ronnie went back in to my closet, holding up numerous amounts of dresses, skirts, and eye-catching tops.

“Jughead is going to a party?” I queried, unconvinced.

“Yeah, it’s a thing with the cheerleaders at Cheryl’s, an Jughead is going to be the ‘supportive boyfriend’ or whatever.” Veronica scoffed at her own words, adding mocking quotations with her fingers before going back to digging in my closet.

“They’re probably going for more clues about Jason.” I mumbled, my mind drifting away a bit.

“For someone who only wears like, 4 outfits, you sure do have a lot of clothes.” Ronnie commented, pulling out a dress and examining it before hanging it back up.

“My mom tries.” I sighed, flopping back down on the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t. Get your happy ass up and get in the shower. You look terrible, which is weird for me, because you usually look incredibly fuckable.”

“Wow, thanks Ronnie.” I spat back, sarcasm laced in my tone. I got up and grabbed a towel from my drawer, walking in to my bathroom and taking a quick shower. I shaved my legs, as demanded instructed by my friend, and Ronnie did my makeup and hair, curling it and putting it up in a pretty half-do. I admired Ronnie’s work, hardly even being able to connect this me with the person that sat in my bed this morning, dark circles under her eyes and her hair in a knotty bun. She had also found a long sleeved black dress that came down to my knees, tucked away in my closet somewhere

Ronnie had brought over a dress for herself to change in to, and slipped on her shoes. She looked up and our eyes met in the mirror, a distressed look on my face.

“Listen, tonight is for us, okay?” Ronnie rested her hand on my shoulders, turning my chair so I faced her.” I’ve been sitting around and moping too, trust me, but we shouldn’t mope. We deserve so much better, alright? So, let’s just go out and have fun. We deserve that much, alright?” Ronnie held out her hand and I took it, pulling myself up and letting my arms go around her neck to embrace her. We both grabbed our purses and linked arms before walking down the stairs of my house and out my door.
——————————————————–
“Ronnie, I don’t think I can do this.” I stood at the front door of the house, my heart racing.” I really can’t do this.” I turned away from the building, wringing my hands out in front of me.” I’ve been doing it for so long, and I don’t think I can pretend any more, and- “

“Y/n!” Ronnie grabbed my hands, holing them in between hers.” You can do this, ok? You’re y/n freaking l/n!! You are one of the strongest women I know, and you are fierce! You can’t let Jughead, or Betty, or anyone get to you! Don’t let them ruin your moment, ok? Because you are looking hot as hell- “Ronnie lifted one of my hands, twirling me in front of her, and I giggled- “And I’ll be damned if I let you let them mess with that.” I hugged Ronnie tightly before she linked my arm with hers and we walked in to the Blossom mansion.

The music wasn’t too loud, which was a kind gesture for my sensitive ears. Cheryl had already roped together some kids for a game of spin the bottle, and I had spotted Archie, Betty, and Jughead near a corner of the room. Ronnie had already gotten me away from the sight, pulling me to the kitchen. I only grabbed a bottle of sweet tea, ignoring the alcohol that lined the counter. Veronica did as well, unsurprisingly. Veronica was a very old-school classy person. If she did drink, it was usually only one glass, and something very light, as I had found out one night that I had slept over at her house.

“There’s my girls!” Kevin wrapped each arm around Veronica and I’s shoulders. “Operation ‘avoid Jughead and Betty because they’re little whores who have been ignoring us to suck each other’s faces’ has commenced!” I laughed at Kevin, giving him a weird look for the name he had chosen.

“Lets just call it Operation Cobra, you know, for short.” Veronica suggested.The three of us made our way to the middle of the dance floor ignoring our other friends. It was obvious Veronica was laughing and talking at a bit of a higher volume, as well as being extra touchy and flirty to get the attention of our friends. I didn’t so much as glance at Jughead, because I knew that once I did, it was game over, and I would be running home and hiding under my covers.
After a little while, I went to find a quiet place in the house, wanting to be alone. Parties weren’t really my thing, so I didn’t understand why I even agreed to go, but to be fair I was having a nice time

I sat on Cheryl’s back porch, my legs swinging off the edge as I looked out at her backyard. The graveyard with all her relatives didn’t really help boost my happiness, but at least I had gotten away from the incessant bass drops the music was giving off.

“Thought you were sick.” I turned my head to see Jughead leaning against the wall, legs and arms both crossed. My heart started beating wildly and I felt a lump in my throat.

“Thought you didn’t like parties.” I retorted, turning my head back around to face away from him.

“Touché.” I felt Jughead’s presence as he sat down next to me, our thighs brushing together. For a couple minutes, I didn’t say anything, scared that if I did I would burst in to tears.

“You look really, uh, nice tonight.” Jughead looked me up and down and I raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, not that you don’t look nice all the time, because you do.” Jughead scratched the back of his neck.” Because you know, you’re really beautiful, but you already know that I think that, because you know, you’re my best friend, and uh… yeah.” Jughead looked away

“You know, I’m not a mind reader.” Jughead chuckled lightly. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I did my best to ignore him, crossing my arms and keeping my gaze away from his.

“Look- “Jughead gulped audibly, hesitating before lifting his hand and resting it on my shoulder.” I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, or what you’re dealing with, but I’m here for you- “

Really? Are you really “here for me?” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, moving to stand up. I was furious at this point.” Jughead, I have talked to you maybe a handful of times since you and Betty started dating! You have cancelled every single one of our plans since then! Every time we’re together working on the blue and gold, you and Betty hardly even notice I’m in the room! – “

My hands went to my temples as I slowly paced back and forth on the deck of the porch. Jughead now stood in front of me, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans and the other running his hand down his face in a frustrated motion.

“And maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry about it, if you would have at least showed any sort of remorse, but you don’t! You don’t apologize, you don’t even text me in advance to let me know, you keep me sitting at Pop’s for hours, and you never even show up! I don’t even know why I still do it? What’s the point?” I began to walk past him but jughead held his arm out, stopping me from leaving. His hand grabbed my hip, turning me to face him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really am- “

“No you aren’t, Jughead! You aren’t sorry!” I pushed him away from me.” You aren’t sorry! If you were really ‘sorry’, you would have been there for me! You wouldn’t have skipped out on our plans! You wouldn’t have left me waiting all the time! Or you would have at least texted me to tell me you wouldn’t make it! Or even apologize!” I shoved my index finger against his chest, pushing him away from me once more.” But you don’t! You don’t apologize, or even feel any remorse about it, because all you care about is yourself! You don’t care about the consequences of the choices you make, because it doesn’t hurt you!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face as I ended my rant. Jughead had a shocked face on his look, as if he was surprised that I had just stood up for myself. I couldn’t blame him. All I ever did was let people use me as their personal door mat. I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I do care about you, it’s just, I- “

“Save it, Jughead!” I shoved past him, running back in to the house and out the front door. I heard calls from my best friend and turned around to see Veronica and Kevin.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Veronica stood in front of me, blocking me from walking down the path towards the gate to leave Cheryl’s home. Her hands wrapped around my arms, stopping me from moving.” What’s wrong, what happened?”

“What do you think happened, Ronnie?” I spoke loudly, my hands moving wildly in front of me.” Jughead is an idiot! That’s what happened!” Kevin now stood beside Ronnie, and her hands went to my face, wiping away the tears. “I’m in love with a fucking idiot! That’s what happened!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Veronica hugged me tightly.

“He doesn’t care, Ronnie. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he hurt me, or anything. It doesn’t matter.” I moved to look at her again.” Why do I have to be in love with him? It could have been anybody else! Why him?”

“I don’t know, honey, he’s a jerk, I don’t know why he- “Ronnie cut herself off, staring off behind me. I turned around to see Jughead standing ten feet away, arms at his sides and his lips parted slightly.

“Did you say you’re in love with me?” Jughead looked at me with wide eyes, waiting for an answer. I shook my head, diving between Ronnie and Kevin and running towards the gate. Jughead began to follow me, but Kevin and Ronnie held him back, letting me slip away.
————————————————–
I was halfway down the trek to my house when I passed by the Riverdale park. I sighed, steering off the sidewalk and towards the big dome-shaped jungle gym. I was just going to mope at home anyways, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get there.

I dropped my heels to the ground next to me, swinging my purse over my shoulder and climbing up to the top. I sat down in the middle, the solid platform cold against my skin. I didn’t care though. I pulled out my phone, ignoring any notifications I had. I checked Instagram, scrolling through Jughead’s account. I switched over to Betty’s, seeing multiple photos of her and Jughead. I didn’t exactly know why I was forcing myself to look at these, but I was.

I shut my phone off, wrapping my arms around my body. I hadn’t brought a jacket, another thing to beat myself up over. I looked around the park, my eyes eventually catching someone else’s. Jughead.

“What are you doing up there?” Jughead looked up at me, his hands in his pockets.

“I like it up here.” I defended.

“Can you come down?” Jughead asked me.

“No.” I protested.

“Then I’m coming up.” Jughead sighed, beginning to climb the structure. I scrambled to grab my purse, trying to get off as fast as I could, but it was too late. Jughead had climbed up, grabbing the bars on each side of my body and hovering so my lower body was trapped under his. He looked up at me, his chest heaving from climbing up as fast as he could, mixed with the sting of the cold weather. Our breaths could be seen in the winter air, mixing with each other and disappearing. I stared at Jughead, waiting for him to say something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh yeah, hold on. Let me ruin my closest friendship real quick by telling him I have super hardcore feelings for him when he’s dating someone else!” I spat sarcastically.

“Ok, that’s fair.”

“Whatever, Jughead, just let me out.” I started to shuffle under his body, planning to duck under his arm, but he blocked me, climbing farther up. We were now eye level, his face only inches from mine. Jughead stared at me, not saying anything.

“Are you gonna say something?” I asked him, my eyes flickering between his.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jughead admitted. I rolled my eyes, pushing him so I could get out from under him. Apparently, I had pushed too hard, because next thing I knew, the boy lost his balance, stumbling off the bars and falling in to the grass on his back. I gasped, shouting his name before climbing down quickly and jumping off the last few bars.

“Jughead! Are you ok!” Jughead groaned in response, sitting up and rubbing his head. I dropped on to my knees beside him, my shoulders on his hands.

“Peachy.” He answered sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, standing up and brushing the dirt off my dress.

“Whatever, I’m going home- “

“Did you know Veronica liked Betty?” I spun around, looking at Jughead.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Jughead sighed, standing up. “And Veronica told her. Turns out, a big part of the reason Betty was dating me was to try and get over her, and convince herself she wasn’t gay. When Ronnie told her, she broke it off with me.” Jughead chuckled half-heartedly.

“Jug, I’m sorry.” Sympathy was laced in my voice. I stepped back toward him, patting his shoulder with my hand.

“It’s ok, really. I was dating her for kind of the same reason as well.” Jughead looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine.” You see, there’s this girl that I really like, and she’s been my best friend for quite a while.” My breath hitched in my throat, my hand leaving Jughead’s shoulder.” I’ve been kind of a shit friend to her, and I haven’t really been hanging out with her, more like avoiding her. It’s a really shitty thing to do, and I feel, like, really, really shitty about it.”

“Jughead, I, I can’t…” I turned back towards the dome jungle gym, walking towards my shoes. I felt Jughead’s hand on my shoulder and then my back was against the monkey bars, my body trapped by Jughead’s.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Jughead admitted.” You’re everything to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. When I started dating Betty, I thought it would help me get over you, and then I could stop feeling the way I felt.” Jughead looked me in the eyes, his face no more than a few inches away from mine once again.” I watched what happened to my parents, and yours. They were just like us. They were best friends, and…” Jughead hung his head, cutting off his own words.

“Jughead.” I reached my hands up to cup his face, lifting his head to look at me.” We aren’t our parents, ok?” My thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his face. Jughead smiled, his eyes flickering down to my lips, and mine doing the same.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I laughed lightly, my arms wrapping around his neck. Jughead’s arms went to my waist, pulling me flush in to his body before he pressed his lips to mine. I sighed in to the kiss, feeling relief that Jughead felt the same way about me as I did him.

Jughead bit gently at my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he broke the kiss. I giggled, burying my face in to the crook of Jughead’s neck.
—————————————————–
“I see my work did some justice.” I heard Ronnie call out. Jughead and I turned around on the sidewalk we had been on to see our friends.

“We have been looking everywhere for you guys! Where were you!” Archie called out, jogging towards us.

“Oh, you know, climbing jungle gyms, pushing Jughead off them, the usual.” I joked, looking up at Jughead. He smiled, rolling his eyes.
Ronnie and Betty walked up to us, hands held together.

“Hey, nothings gonna be… awkward, right?” Betty asked, looking at Jughead and I.

“No, Betts, everything’s good.” Jughead looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

“Ok, good.” Betty rested her hand on Jughead’s shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze before dropping it.

“Wait, so, you two?” Archie asked, looking at Ronnie and Betty, who nodded.

“And you two?” Archie looked at Jughead and I. Jughead nodded and I blushed, hiding in his side. Jughead wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.” Kevin shrugged, walking towards us.

“Hey, we’re all heading to Pop’s, you coming?” Archie asked Jug and I.

“Archibald Andrews, do you ever think I would turn down a burger and fries from our ever so famous chock-lit shoppe?” I put a hand over my chest in mock offense.

“Of course you and Jughead are together, why was I even surprised.” Archie rolled his eyes, walking away from us.

“That obvious, huh?” Jughead spoke aloud, looking down at me.

“Yep.”

“Thanks, Maggie. Love you,” Dex says, and Nursey’s heart stops beating for a moment. His lungs refuse to inhale or exhale. The muscles in his legs forget that they are holding up an actual person.

Then Dex’s eyes catch his, going wide at the interruption, and Nursey somehow finds it in himself to pretend that everything is exactly the same now as it was thirty seconds ago.

He looks away and heads for the fridge, his limbs remembering themselves once more.

“Hey, uh, sorry, I gotta go. Can I call you back?” Dex says into his cell phone on the other side of the Haus kitchen.

Nursey rummages through several pounds of butter in search of something edible. He silently repeats to himself his old mantra from Andover, from when he could barely see straight for the tears welling up in his eyes at every backhanded remark or micro-aggression. The mantra he used to train his emotions not to show themselves at every turn, the way they had done with abandon throughout his childhood.

“Write it down instead,” his sister suggested, when he confided to her his inability to keep things bottled up. And, after a time, that strategy seemed to work.

Write it down instead, he still tells himself now, at the end of his Sophomore year at Samwell, whenever the world becomes too much, whenever he feels suddenly as though his façade of always okay always fine always chill isn’t strong enough to handle the current situation.

Nursey begins to silently run through the words again in his head now, trying very hard not to analyze why he needs to.

“Um, so. How much of that did you hear?” Dex asks him, and luckily Nursey’s got his head buried so far into the freezer that he doesn’t have to cover his pained grimace.

“Not much, man, don’t worry about it. Hey, you think Bitty would murder us if we used his new oven for store-brand taquitos?”

He barely hears Dex’s reply, though, too busy faking normalcy. Too busy wondering who it was on the other end of Dex’s phone call that got to hear the words “I love you” from the guy, and so casually offered up that Dex must say it to her daily.

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2

So, guys, let me pull up this scene again and ramble a bit about why and how I think Peter’s immediate reaction of shooting is so amazing, and why I brought Yondu into this mess in the first place.

Peter’s reaction differs a lot from what an average person (from Earth) would do in such a moment.

First of all, he was deep into the vision of Eternity that Ego showed him. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the concept of eternity in itself is not something the human mind is really able to comprehend, it goes way beyond our imagination and understanding. While it’s already a miracle that Peter did not lose his mind under that barrage or fall into an euphoria, it’s even more amazing that he snaps out of it in the blink of an eye after Ego’s words and immediately is that much back to his senses that he is able to grab his blasters and start shooting with the clear intent of killing his opposite.

Then, there is the fact that Peter just got the knowledge that his biological father, which he had just found, was the one who doomed his mother to a slow and painful death, and afterwards talks so calmly about it as if he is talking about the weather.

That’s a shock in itself and hard to process. An average person’s reaction would be to start processing it, unable or not willing to accept this fact. Many would go numb or feel like the world has just slowed down as they struggle to piece the new and old information together to get the full picture. Only after that process would there be anger, because beforehand, they would still try to understand.

Peter, however, says “What?” and then immediately goes into autopilot and starts shooting.

That’s a reaction I would expect from a trained pro, a pro who is able to skip that initial reaction of shock and numbness and immediately go back into fighting-mode – a pro like, an agent, or a soldier…

… or a former battle slave.

What I’m trying to point out here is that this is not only Peter’s love for his mother that is steering his actions here, but also Yondu’s training. Angry and hurt, Peter is able to kickstart what he learned, what he was taught, acts on reflex and goes straight to fighting and killing the jackass in front of him, whereas an average person would have frozen and done nothing, or just started yelling in anger and shock.

If it hadn’t been for the training itself, Peter wouldn’t have been able to go straight back to fighting. And if it weren’t for the love for his mother and the resulting anger, Peter would probably still have been frozen - because we have seen him react slow and hesitant before, like when the Collector’s lab exploded in the first movie. Gamora had to pull him away then because Peter just stood frozen in shock.

This scene shows absolutely beautifully the different parts of Peter’s upbringing and his personality – on one hand, big, kind heart full of love, on the other hand, the reflexes of a fighter that were honed over years.

Both things are what Peter needs to survive in this galaxy, and what make him special.

So big shoutout to Meredith for being such an awesome Mum that even 26 years after her death, Peter still loves her from the bottom of his heart, only thinks the best of her and is freaking ready to kill for her because losing her was probably the most terrible thing one could have done to him.

And big shoutout to Yondu for, while not being the best and most loving father figure, doing his goddamn best to raise Peter in a way that would make sure the boy could survive out there. Yondu didn’t know how to give fatherly, familial love, so he just did what he knew best and taught Peter how to defend himself, and that really saves Peter’s ass here.

(Lots of thanks to @powerovernothing​, since they ramble with me about this kind of tiny things that I can scream about for hours – your inputs are so amazing as always, at least three-fourth of this post are basically yours.)

Entanglement

Entanglement: (m) Namjin x Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Genre/warnings: Polyamory, smut, dirty talk

This isn’t very long because I wanted the second part to go into more detail and whatnot but enjoy :)

Parts: one | two 

Originally posted by yngissi


It was quite an interesting life you led. You were dating Kim Namjoon, a young successful writer who had his own publishing company. He was dashing and smart who treated you like a queen. People knew you had met him from your current boss Kim Seokjin. He was handsome and sexy, kind of an asshole but for some reason that worked for him. They had met in college, hating each other, competing against each other for grades, girlfriends, money, anything with an eyesight of each other. That was until one day they were assigned to be partners for a project in class. They had fought against it but surprisingly to them, they ended up liking each other. So much so that they ended up in bed together even more than that, they’ve been dating since.

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Secrets

Requested. (This was a little bit difficult for me….hope it’s up to par D:)

Song or Quote : Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good.
Who: Peter Parker

Peter sulked behind Tony who led them to an old diner that miraculously was still standing after everything the city had been through. He was dreading what was going to be said to him once they finally sat down. Peter had messed up, bad. Tony ordered a black coffee and a cherry turnover while Peter just stuck to a chocolate milk. He didn’t even want anything but Tony insisted he get something. The silence was painful and seemed like it was never going to end. 

After some time of watching Tony eat his turnover, Peter finally decided to break the painful quiet. “Look, Mr. Stark, I just, I need, I want to apologize for not being on my A game tonight.” 

Tony chewed for a minute, staring at the teenager before swallowing and deciding to respond back. “Mind telling me why I almost got my head ripped off and your body almost getting torn in half? This isn’t some game, kid. It’s real life and real life means real danger and real danger means broken bones and dead bodies. When I bring you along to these kinds of things, I bring you because I need you. Just because I’m Iron-man doesn’t mean I can do everything which is something you will never hear me say again.” 

Peter bit his lip, shaking his head. Trying to find the words to justify why his mind was not where it was supposed to be. Stuttering and tripping over his words, he bowed his head and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I, it’s, I, my-”

“-just stop.” Tony sighed, running a hand over his face, he inhaled deeply. This was a kid sitting in front of him, just a kid. A kid that was fortunate to have these abilities and unfortunate at the same time because he was stuck with them. Looking at Peter, he asked calmly, “Where was your mind at, kid? Why weren’t you focused?”

Peter refused to meet Tony’s gaze, he didn’t want to admit why he had been spacing out. Because, he knew that lives were at stake but the guilt of cancelling his date with [Y/N] for the fourth time in a row was eating away at him. He desperately tried to keep his crime fighting life as Spider-Man and [Y/N] separate. He didn’t want to put that burden on her, constantly being worried whether or not he was going to make it home or not. It wasn’t fair to cause stress when he could just avoid it and keep his Spider-Man life private. 

Sipping on his coffee, Tony sternly spoke. “If we’re going to be working together, we’ve got to be honest with one another.”

Again Peter didn’t respond, he just didn’t know how. 

“What was so damn important in that brain of yours that made you forget about your life for one split second?”

Peter toyed with his hands, shrugging his shoulders, getting frustrated with himself. “I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I just, I spaced. I know this is important and that I should always stay focused but, I just, I-”

“-Peter, listen to me, and you listen good. I see potential in you, please for the love of god don’t make me regret my decision.”

Peter frowned, looking down in his lap, he toyed with his fingers again. “I’m seeing this girl, [Y/N], Mr. Stark. I have been for awhile now and I kept it a secret because I don’t know, I want to keep my personal life for just me. And I don’t want to drag her into this life because well, she doesn’t need to be apart of it.” Looking up at Tony, Peter sighed. “I’m still a kid and I want to do kid things like go to school, see her in the hall and think to myself, ‘wow, she’s so beautiful,’ and then meet up with her at the lockers and talk about how her day has been going. Go on dates, have awkward moments on those said dates, struggle to find the words to say when I find out that I love her.” Peter ran both hands through his hair, “Tonight was the fourth night in a row that I’ve cancelled on her and I’m just afraid that she’ll leave me and I don’t want that because when I’m with her, I feel good. I feel great, actually. I feel normal, I feel like just a normal kid and it’s an escape from this double life I’m living-which don’t get me wrong, Mr. Stark, this life is nice too because I feel like I’m making a difference in this world but sometimes I just need a getaway and [Y/N] is my getaway. Wait…what are you doing?” 

Tony mumbled under his breath, “I may have bit off more than I can chew.” His focus was completely focused on his watch, his fingers were hovering over a holographic keyboard as he toyed with it. In seconds [Y/N] social media profile was hovering in the air, “Is this? This is the girl you’re seeing?” Tony seemed impressed, “She’s cute.” He looked up in time to find Peter’s horrified stare, ignoring it, he skimmed through her pictures and interests. “Very cute, aw, well isn’t this sweet. Is that the Statue of Liberty? It is, isn’t it. Hm, let’s see ‘Peter took me to see Lady Liberty today!’ Oh come on, man. You took her to see the Statue of Liberty for a date?” 

Still stunned that Tony had [Y/N]’s social in his hands, he swallowed. “Uh, yeah, she, uh, she’s always wanted to go and I thought, you know, I should, wait why are we talking about this right now?” He wanted to get off the topic of [Y/N]. There was a reason why he kept her from Tony despite knowing that he could easily get onto it. 

Waving his hand over the floating images, they vanished. Toying with the keyboard some more, another image popped up over his wrist. Swiping the images, he nodded in approval. “She’s a smart girl. All A’s and lookie here, she’s in three AP classes. How old are you again? How does she have the time for this and you? These are some impressive scores, probably the highest in your grade I take it. Let’s just see, oh look, she does with you being right behind her.” Waving his hand again to make them disappear, Tony leaned forward. “Okay, look, I get why you’re head over heels, puppy dog in love with her. She’s a cute, smart, very smart girl.” 

“Did you? Did you just hack into my school’s grading system to look at her grades?”

Waggling his finger, Tony narrowed his eyes. “Ah, no changing the subject and really? You have to ask? I’m Tony Stark, I could get into this rinky dink diner’s security system and shut it down.” Clearing his throat, “Listen to me, kid. Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good. You put your life at risk tonight because you were too busy worrying about her. But you know what, I get that, I get you want to protect her from this double life thing your living. I get it. But what you don’t understand is that keeping her from this, is only making it worse for you and her.” 

"I can’t just tell her I’m Spider-Man! She’ll freak out and if she freaks out, I’ll freak out. Her and Aunt May are very similar in their freaking out episodes. I have to keep it a secret.”

“You know, I’ve heard girls date men that resemble and remind them of their fathers but I’ve never heard boys dating girls that remind them of their really attractive aunts.” 

Peter narrowed his eyes, “I never said [Y/N] reminds me of Aunt May, I just said they freak out the same. But yes to some degree, I guess you could say they have similar qualities-but that’s besides the point! I am not telling her I’m Spider-Man.” 

Tony rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “When you have someone that means this much to you, you want to protect them and only them. I’ve been there, kid. You want to make the world a better place for them but the thing is, is when you step foot into that suit. It’s not just about them, it’s about everyone. You have a responsibility to save as many people as you can. And when you’re all in love and what not, you lose sight of that responsibility. Prime example was tonight when we almost died.” 

“So I just what? Break up with her and suffer? Because I don’t think I can do that, Mr. Stark. If anything, it’ll make my concentration worse.”

“I’m not saying that. What I am saying is you have a responsibility to save as many lives as you can without losing your own. You’re young, you’ll find other [Y/N]’s, if not better ones.”

Peter squinted his eyes, shaking his head. “No, I won’t. There’s no one like [Y/N]. No one.” 

Tony half nodded, understanding the firm point the teenager had. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead, “This job isn’t easy and you’ve got a long way to go before these instincts start to feel like second nature.” Glancing out the window, his eyes caught sight of a familiar face among a crowd of kids about to step foot into the diner. “Word of advice, Parker? You should tell her what you’ve been up to. Because one thing I will say is that despite my distaste for love, that kind of girl is not the kind of girl you let slip away from your fingers over something so irritatingly silly as not telling her who you are and what you do.” Throwing down some money, he stood up and winked at Peter before saying, “Because a few years from now, I may scout her to work for me and that’d be so unbelievably awkward to work with her after you were an idiot in not telling her.” 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Out the door to my lavish expensive penthouse where I can take a wonderful lavender bath.”

“Peter?”

Peter spun around, frozen in place to find [Y/N] standing behind him. Struggling to stand up, his knees banged the underside of the table before scrambling out of the booth. [Y/N]?! What, what are you doing here?” 

Raising a brow, she eyed Tony suspiciously, “I could ask you the same thing…”

Tony smiled, “You must be [Y/N], Peter has told me so much about you. Sorry about having him cancel on your date but I really needed to finish up some finishing details on his entry for the September Foundation.”

“At a run down diner?” She asked, not really believing in his lie.

“You know what, you, my sweet girl, are a lot smarter than I had been told.” Moving around her, he headed for the door. “Peter will telling you everything you need to know.” Winking before leaving the door, he chuckled to himself as he left Peter looking frantic and nervous. 

[Y/N] crossed her arms, “Peter, what is going on? I thought you said Aunt May wouldn’t let you go out tonight. And why the hell was Tony Stark in this diner with you? And, the September Foundation? What is he talking about?”

Sighing, he reached for her hand, “We need to have a long talk about all of those questions but not here.” 

She's Not You | TOM HOLLAND X READER

Description: In which the reader, in an effort to get over her crush on Tom, decides to set him up but for some reason none of the girls ever get a second date. Tom’s problem is that the one girl he wants to go out with seems to be hell bent on setting him up with someone else.

Author’s Note: I’m back hoes what’s good? I’m pretty proud of how this turned out and I hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Inspiration for this fic came from something I read a while ago and last night it popped into my mind for some reason so yea now there’s this. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2219

FANFICTION MASTERLIST



“So?” I prodded Tom, dragging out the o’s as long as possible. We were in his dressing closet after a long day of filming as he took out his regular clothes at a snail’s pace. You’d think since he’s somewhat of an athlete he’s be a quick changer but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

Tom took out a pair of jeans and threw them on a nearby chair. “So what?” he asked not looking at me.

I threw my head back with a groan, he knew exactly what I was going to ask him. It was the same question I always asked him every time I set him up with a new girl. Each week I’d find a girl who would go on a date with Tom, which wasn’t that much of a challenge, and each week he’d take the girl to dinner.

The only problem was that none of these girls ever got a second date. Not a single one and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.  I like to think I know Tom pretty well so I’m always surprised when the girls I think he’ll really like never get a second date.

“How was your date with Quinn?” I asked, eager to hear what he thought of her. This is the same question I’d ask every week with another girl’s name. I was hoping that Tom would say he liked her and that he would be taking her out again but-

“It was fine,” Tom answered pulling out a t shirt and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

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okay so imagine that after ransom, holster, and lardo graduate they’re like “okay so where do we live now” and like holster and ransom already agreed that they were going to move in together after college while ransom gets his medical degree and they realize that wow apartments are fucking expensive so they’re like “lardo wanna move in with us too so we can actually afford a place with a roof” and she’s like “sure”

imagine the shenanigans they’d get up to

  • so it’s a two bedroom apartment and for some reason holster and ransom get the smaller room??? but they shove a bunk bed in there and can kind of fit a desk there too and there’s only one closet but they’ve been sharing clothes for years so it’s not really an issue
  • lardo gets the bigger room with these fucking beautiful windows in it like there’s a window seat she likes to curl up in when it’s sunny outside and she sets an easel up next to them so she can paint in the natural light and she swears that her art looks better when it dries in the sun
  • she also gets a huge ass bed that dwarfs her completely but she loves it so much cause it’s got fucking soft sheets and a thousand fucking pillows because shitty has a weird fixation on throw pillows and picks her up cute ones that have like a cat face on them or a saying like “i love my bed more than i like you”
    • when shitty sleeps over there isn’t enough room for all the throw pillows and both him and lardo.
    • also shitty loves little spooning it like with lardo wrapped around his back like a backpack he feels super safe
    • lardo also likes being the little spoon. they flip a coin to decide who gets to be it that night
  • none of them can cook for shit so they have a drawer of take out menus and they pull one blindly out of the drawer for dinner. they are on a first name basis with all of the best places.
    • when bitty visits he is horrified and makes them stuff and puts it in the freezer. they have enough frozen dinners to last them a month. sometimes they just eat them cold cause they can’t be fucked to wait for them to heat up. they will never tell bitty this information.
    • lardo actually can make a few dishes she had as a kid and when she’s feeling nostalgic or giving she makes them all dinner and it is so much better than take out
  • holster is surprisingly the best at laundry and he’s not really doing much cause ransom has med school and lardo has art shit to do and holster has a pretty lax job doing the books for a start-up business down the street and he only has to go in like twice a week so he somehow becomes the house husband of the group doing dishes and laundry and cleaning the house up after parties and just on regular days
  • the apartment they bought is in providence or near providence or something to that effect so they go to jack’s games all the damn time. jack lets them sit with the WAGS cause bitty is busy with school so he can’t use the seats and he likes looking up at the box and seeing holster and ransom freak out and lardo curse violently. they’re great additions to the WAGs.
    • a couple of the older guys’ wives kind of adopt the three of them because dear lord you have take out every night? what cleaning product are you using on your kitchen you are going to kill yourself? you don’t use coupons do you know how helpful that shit is? so a bunch of the WAGs teach them how to cook basic meals and what to clean with and how to coupon like a boss
  • bitty moves up to providence after he graduates too and opens his own bakery with a little bit of jack’s help (look i know bitty wanted to work for it but when you have a nhl boyfriend who has more money than he knows what to do with you might as well take advantage) and lardo works there when she isn’t busy cause she likes spending time with bitty and she’s good at it and holster of course does the books for bitty who hates numbers with a passion and ransom crashes there when he’s test stressed
  • okay well back to lardo holster and ransom dream team; they have family nights once a week. they play board games and watch movies and go roller blading in the park (lardo is surprisingly better at rollerblading than ice skating and she whips their asses thoroughly)
  • they get drunk sometimes like as a group and they get tipsy and honest and one time lardo gets too honest and starts talking about how much she loves shitty and she notices the looks holster and ransom send each other as she says shit like “he’s just so good at making me happy, you know?” but the two idiots don’t notice it at all which is infuriating
  • the frogs graduate too and it seems like everyone else is living in providence so they move there too and soon the entire smh group is living in providence and it’s probably not healthy that they’re trying desperately to cling to their college years but fuck it they’re happy and it all started because of holster ransom and lardo moving in together
  • years later when they finally move in with their SOs lardo tells holster and ransom’s kids about how dense their fathers were and how it is totally her doing that they got together in the first place because she is the one that locked them in the bathroom together when ransom was taking a shower and she leaves out the part where she had to leave the apartment because damn were they loud

Live a Little (Taehyung/Reader)

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Prompt: If You’re still taking Taehyungie requests could I get a smut for trying new things and Tae sweet talking her into anal and taking it super slow and gentle and she ends up having the best orgasm of her life?? More love makey anal. Rather than aggressive.

Genre: Fluff Smut

Words: 4.5K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Tags: Clothed grinding, body worship, oral sex, teasing, fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, etc.


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the “dear evan hansen 10 things i hate about you au” that literally nobody asked for

I thought I was alone but @arimarris apparently loves this au as much as I do so here we go

v long sorry it’s under the cut

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It’s the post-heroic high that makes Kara do it. That rush of victory permeating her body is what has her leaning in and kissing Lena just as the other woman says goodbye.


She’s not expecting it, obviously, because why would she expect Supergirl to kiss her goodbye after dropping her off on her balcony? Usually its the citizen she’s rescued that kiss Supergirl, not the other way around, but it had been a close call and for a moment there Kara was pretty sure Lena wasn’t going to make it, so the logical part of her mind took a backseat as Survival Kara kicked in and did everything within her power to save her. And she did save her, and apparently Logical Kara was still on vacation because there is no logical reason for why she had swooped in and planted a pretty terrible kiss right on Lena’s open, mid-goodbye mouth.

The ‘bye’ ends up mumbled into Kara’s mouth followed by a gasp, both activities which keep her mouth pretty freaking open, almost frozen open really, and Kara’s just kind of frozen as well with her mouth pressed right up there too. She’s pretty sure their teeth clanked together.



Kara cringes, starts to stutter out a response that’s mostly guttural sounds, and then jumps off the balcony.

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college boyfriend!minghao;

Originally posted by mountean

  • bless the cutie that requested animal shelter volunteer minghao, i ended up meshing it with another request for college bf!minghao bc i can do whatever i want
  • sfklasjd jk jk
  • now, minghao has always had a strong connection with animals
  • ever since he was a kid, he always just had this intense empathy for animals, so much so that it kind of drove his parents crazy???
  • like minghao would grieve for hours if he accidentally stepped on a bug, or he’d take a whole hour out of his morning when he knows he has to get to school just to help a momma dog and her pups get somewhere safe away from traffic
  • i mean the boy just loves animals to death
  • loves them more than humans tbh
  • so it’s no surprise that minghao became an avid animal shelter volunteer from high school well into his college career

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Literally how I became happy.

A lot of you guys are always concerned about me because the more that I share, the more you realize I’m a real person with struggles and issues and I’m not 100% okay 100% of the time haha so I just wanna give an update and share some insight on how I’ve been doing and what I’ve been working on.
The hair cut is the visible part. The change is sooooo real. I look like a different person but I seriously FEEL like one. Surface changes: I live in Tennessee. I have short blonde hair. I’ve now dated two guys that I actually loved. I own a house and a car. Before, I lived in California, I had freaking long brown hair, I shared a mini van with four other people, I’d never been on a date and truly questioned whether I’d ever meet anyone that liked me for who I was, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life past like two years into the future and I felt like I would live with my parents forever. So a lot of big things have changed but honestly the biggest changes happened inside with less visible results. You can only see it in my smile and hear it in my words. But really you’ll see it in my actions over the next 12 months. It’s just the beginning.
I honestly don’t know where it came from. The last six years I have been so passive. My life has been happening to me. There have been some breakthrough moments where I learned a lot about myself and my confidence and self love, yes. I had some good times for sure. But as far as knowing what I want and where I wanna go, I was not good at that. I felt SO powerless and began to withdraw more and more, in my friendships, my career, our band, my family, everything. I shared so little each day, I had so few ideas, I didn’t create much, I only wrote when I was really upset or inspired (which wasn’t that often), I had no social life, no vision for myself, no confidence that anyone would ever love me and I just wasn’t living a rich life at all. I was an observer hoping that one day someone or something would come along and make my life actually enjoyable. I was constantly waiting. I journaled a lot and released a lot of emotion, that part was good. I just felt like I was living in a cave, stuck in the past, not doing much each day to actually experience life.
Then we moved across the country. *shock* *panic* *whoa*. That was the first time I was really shaken up.
Then I had my heart broken. Twice. I fell in love and both times it didn’t work out. I NEEDED that, to meet people who actually got me and appreciated my personality and loved all my quirks and my strange mind and how childlike I am. For the first time I felt understood. I wouldn’t change a thing. I was so closed off for so long and suddenly I was ripped open. Someone was asking for my time and attention and I had to give it to them. I was so scared but I really wanted to experience that side of life so I had to let those people see me and experience who I was. It was so good for me omg. I felt like my heart was shriveled and frozen before that, it had seen the sun maybe three times, but once that happened it absolutely bloomed. Not everyone has to fall in love to open their heart but for me that’s how it happened.
Anyway it was really intense and pushed me to the edge, dealing with that loss. I cut off all my hair. I just had enough. I was so drained. I had felt so vulnerable throughout my dating experiences, such a long period of trusting and hoping after so many years of doing the opposite, I guess I became a little over exposed. I pictured myself feeling tough and strong after a particularly intense weekend of fighting and I saw myself with no hair. It was kind of a crazy idea at first but it turned into a real desire. After a few days of thinking it over, I took the plunge.
What. A. Rush.
Suddenly I just wanted to feel alive. I went a little overboard but I did so many things. Concerts, road trips, bonfires, social plans nonstop, shopping, reinventing my style… I was really hurting during this time and I just wanted to feel better. I don’t regret doing so much but I’m glad I came down after a month and examined myself. I realized how much I was hurting and I faced it. I felt scared, hurt, abandoned, broken and vulnerable but it was comforting to identify that. Once you face it, you can feel it, release it and eventually let it go.
In October I realized I wanted more. I actually had dreams. Cutting my hair showed me I could have an idea, see it through and that it could actually go well! I wanted that on a bigger scale. I started writing again, all the time. I took an interest in my appearance again. Before, I just wanted people to think I’m pretty. Of course I still do but now it’s so much more than that. It actually is for me. When my outfit/makeup/overall look matches my mood, I feel so much more confident, comfortable with myself and ready to take on the day. Even in my work out clothes, I always try to coordinate them now and make them feel good because I know I just do more with my day when I feel confident and ready to put myself out there. You don’t need to look perfect AT ALL, in fact sometimes that can cause more stress because it puts more pressure on you. Just take the time to put yourself together and feel GOOD about what you’re wearing each day. It seriously makes a huge difference. And especially DO NOT wear anything that makes you feel bad. GET RID OF IT!!!! All your clothes should make you feel cute in some way.
Idk how this happened but I kind of just realized nothing is a big deal. The way I used to live, EVERYTHING was a HUGE deal. Texting a guy? Leaving the house? Spending 30 dollars? Calling someone first? All terrifying things I dreaded and avoided at all costs. I had to work through so much INTENSE anxiety when I first started dating, it was really sad how much that freaked me out and how much I had to work through just to get to a point where I felt comfortable going on one date or being the object of a man’s attention. I felt so incredibly unworthy.
Anyway, maybe it was the hair cut but sometime around then I just became really bold. Right now I feel like almost nothing scares me. My biggest fear is probably trusting people that have hurt me. That’s one thing I can think of that I’m struggling with and truly terrifies me, trying to rebuild broken relationships. I’m having help working through that. Other than that, there are so few things I won’t try, won’t pursue, won’t say to someone. I am becoming more bold, confident, comfortable in my own skin and sure of myself with each passing second. I just feel GOOD. Nothing is that big of a deal! Seriously force yourself to take more risks and you’ll quickly understand what I mean. You can spend weeks, months, even years fearing things and trying to predict what will happen but once you finally do them you’ll see just how unnecessary all that stress was. Nothing is that hard, that daunting, that permanent. Heck, even tattoos can be removed these days.
I think that was the biggest change of all so far: the removal of fear. Fear used to be the gas in my tank, it absolutely fueled me. Now it’s faith. I am so ON FIRE for my life!!!!!! I have so many exciting dreams I want to pursue, so much I want to create, so many places I want to go, things I want to experience, learn, master, people I want to meet and be around….. I love it all. I decide what I want and I go after it. I look at myself in the mirror and I smile. I’m starting to look as bold and unique as I feel. The long hair was beautiful and fun and maybe one day I’ll want it back but for now, it just feels too plain for how colorful and out of the box my mind is. I always used my mind a lot but I wasn’t exploring it much before. Now that I’m embracing my unconventional brain, I just want to express that openness and share it with the world.
Also I’ve noticed I’m getting disappointed comments from traditional, conformist men I never wanted to date anyway that used to love my hair 😂 so no offense but I was never interested in you anyway, there are soooooo many long haired women in the world you can comment on that you’ll probably never even meet but i’m just one less you need to worry about hahaha. All of the bold men that liked me before just like me more now. And I think it’s because I also like myself more! Confidence attracts confidence! I’m growing into the baller I was born to be and it’s just helping me attract more ballers 😂😂
BTW THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH HAVING LONG HAIR OR A MORE SIMPLE STYLE I FULLY SUPPORT IT. YOU DONT HAVE TO LOOK LIKE A CRAZY PERSON OR LIVE A WILD UNCONVENTIONAL LIFE TO BALL OUT ON EVERYONE THATS JUST HOW I CHOOSE TO DO IT HAHA. EVERYONE IS A BALLER IN THEIR OWN WAY I EMBRACE AVERAGE LOOKING PEOPLE AND WILD LOOKING PEOPLE, AS LONG AS YOURE LIVING A LIFE YOU LOVE AND CHOOSING WHAT TRULY FULFILLS YOU!!!!!!!!!!! WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE JUST LIVE IT BECAUSE YOU LOVE IT 🙌🏼
Anyway, I feel so much more confident in myself, men or no men. It’s funny cuz I finally stopped worrying about guys and now I actually interact with them the way I always wanted to hahaha.
I no longer rely on the approval of others to get through the day. I no longer feel paralyzed by fear every morning and night. I no longer ponder whether I’m worthy of a date or not. I no longer look in the mirror and sigh. I no longer think of the future as a blurry grey blob filled with hopelessness, uncertainty and fear. I know it will be whatever I make it and I am going to make it freaking phenomenal.
That’s a huge key, putting YOURSELF in the drivers seat. Forget this message of victimization. You are the person holding yourself down but YOU can be the one to lift yourself up!!!! Wow I just got a huge craving for meat loaf and mashed potatoes. HAHAHA. Anyway, put yourself in control. Ask God for guidance. Trust that you are taken care of always because YOU ARE. Embrace yourself. Stop thinking you have to be perfect. Stop thinking you’re unlovable. Realize how cool you are and how much you have going for yourself. Jump in and try things. Stop thinking you have to be “ready”. THE LESSONS OF FAILURE ARE FAR MORE VALUABLE THAN THE PRIZES OF SUCCESS!!!!!!!!!!!
On that note, go kill it. Embrace yourself. Blossom. Live. Come alive. You got this 👊🏼💗

Some Highlights From Idina Menzel's Concert Tonight

- There were two ASL interpreters there and she kept saying how cool they were
- “Look, I’m making them compliment themselves.”
- “Oh shit…whoop, I just made them sign shit. Sorry…shit. Okay, where were we?”
- During “No Day But Today”, she asked how to sign it, and a man who was deaf or HoH came up on stage and showed everyone
- Then he showed her his tattoo that said “No Day But Today” and I was crying
- “Shout-out to the one straight guy in the audience. Are there any straight guys here? You are? Well, you didn’t who I was. You googled me in the car, you listened to what your wife had to say about me. Thank you for comimg, your wife must love you. You’re getting laid tonight because of it….sorry, parents. Cover your kids’ ears. The Disney role model is making sex jokes. It’s hard being a Disney queen and a forty-five year old woman from Long Island!”
- “I just assume everyone who’s into musical theatre isn’t straight…which doesn’t make sense, because both my ex-husband and fiancee do musical theatre and I’m pretty sure they’re both straight.”
- *while pointing at the drummer at random times* “I have to keep him on his toes because it was his birthday last night so he’s a little hungover.”
- She was checking out the stairs at the edge of the stage and a guy in the front row got her attention, so she was like, “Can I have your seat?” and she handed him the mic and sat down. He sang a line of “I’m Not That Girl” and was applauded very enthusiastically.
- “Anyone else here recently engaged?” *cheering* “Anyone here just divorced?” *even louder cheering* “I like the enthusiasm on that one.”
- Someone in the front row gave her a gift so she handed it to a stagehand to keep safe, then Jimmy the Stagehand got his time to shine.
- She sang a bit of “For Good” acapella with no mic and I had c h i l l s
- “I had to explain to my son what a diva was the other day. I started with the opera definition…then I said, ‘people call your mommy a diva but that doesn’t mean she’s mean, it just means she’s fierce…and confident in herself.’”
- She said very, very sweet things about Jonathan Larson and I cried again
- Defying Gravity was???? Flawless????
- She was singing a song about her sister from her album and then seamlessly transitioned into “Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?” and I didn’t see it coming man
- She also sang “Don’t Rain On My Parade” and just rocked my freaking world
- *awkward silence* Man in audience: “I LOVE YOU.” *another awkward silence* Idina: “I love you too!”
- Shoutout to that entire band, what the heck?? The backup singers, the cellist, the violinist, the bassist, the guitarist, the drummer, the pianist, the keyboardist, there was just Too Much Talent on that stage
- She invited a bunch of kids up to sing “Let It Go” with her and it was the most adorable thing ever
- I mean, there was a whole hoard of kids
- There was one girl that had to be about 2 who just kept wandering around the stage and Idina was very worried that this kid was gonna just walk off the stage
- Shoutout to Phoebe, an adorable little girl whose favorite part of Frozen was “when Anna saved Elsa.”
- “You’re probably getting sick of this song, but I’m a mom, so I have to give everyone a chance to sing.”
- She’s just so incredible. I’m very emotional.

Blue Scarf

Summary: Her scarf flies into Tom’s face and as if the awkwardness that followed wasn’t bad enough, he walks into her work too.

Pairings: Reader(?) x Tom Holland

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Some swearing.

A/n: Roses are really expensive, you guys. Who knew? But yeah, I don’t know how I feel about this piece tbh. Let me know what you think so I can make up my mind about whether I like it or not lol. And I know this one isn’t very Tom heavy but I promise my next one will be :D


The wind blew furiously today. She tugged her coat tighter around her and hunched her shoulders to protect her exposed ears from the chilly assault. Her face was numb; she couldn’t even feel the pain of the wind whipping her cheeks anymore. As she reached to grab the purse swinging wildly at her hip, a gust of wind caught the end of her scarf, blowing it behind her. Because it wasn’t wrapped around her neck, the force of the wind simply yanked it free, and suddenly her scarf was flying through the air.

She gasped and spun around trying to locate her neckwear. She caught sight of it zigzagging through imaginary obstacles. Its bright blue allowed her to track its path as she gave chase. She ducked and weaved past the people, finally coming to a halt as she witnessed her scarf get blown right around some poor, unsuspecting pedestrian’s face. She watched as they stopped mid-step, frozen for a millisecond but clambering to free themselves immediately. She rushed up to them, apologies on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m so sor– “

She cut herself off. Words simply left her brain as the stranger pulled the scarf down. Her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Wow, you are gorgeous!

“Um… thank you?”

“Huh?”

“You, uh, you said I was gorgeous,” she heard him say, registering the eloquent British accent.

As if he wasn’t stunningly attractive, he had to sound like that?

How is that fair?

“How is what fair?”

The perplexed expression on his face pulled her out of her reverie.

“What?”

“You said ‘How is that fair?’ What were you referring to?” he repeated.

I said that out loud?

“Yeah, you did,” he said, puzzlement becoming bemusement.

Oh, shit.

“I – I was referring to… Um, see, what I meant was –,” she scrambled to come up with an excuse. Her mind failing her, she shifted her gaze to the floor, a blush creeping up her face.

An agonising, awkward silence followed.

“Uh, anyway…,” his smile faltered, the odd conversation losing its charm.

“Here’s your scarf,” he said as he looped it around her neck. “Now you won’t lose it, again.”

Pursing his lips together in a polite smile, he moved past her and continued on his way. She stood there, dumbstruck.

What just happened?

She turned around, catching a glimpse of his slicked-back curls.

“Thank you!” she called out. He kept walking though, not hearing her.

*

The bell on the corner of the door rang as she opened it.

“Morning,” her friend called, not looking up from her flower arrangement. “We got to get that Truscott Gala order done by four today. Are you okay to work register while I work on that?”

“Oh, morning, Stel,” she responded, coming out of her thoughts. She had been replaying her brief encounter with the pretty, British man in her head, feeling more and more stupid each time.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she said, pulling off her coat and exchanging it for her apron. She kept the scarf on.

“What’s up with you?” her friend finally looked up, giving her a questioning look.

Crossing the too-long apron strings, she pulled them in front of her and tied a bow.

“You would not believe what an idiot I am, Stel,” she replied.

“I would, but go on,” her friend prompts.

“I was walking to work today and you know how it was really windy? Well, my scarf blew away and it landed on this guy’s face,” she recounted as she walked over to the window, flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to the ‘We’re Open’ side.

“And Stel, oh my god, this guy was so hot. Like, crazy, too-beautiful-to-be-real, smoking, kind of hot. And –,” she paused, “He was British!”

“Let me guess. You totally embarrassed yourself, right? Am I right?” her friend guessed.

Sighing in defeat, she looked at her friend. “Yes.”

“Oh, it was so bad. The first thing I said to him was ‘Wow, you’re gorgeous’. I mean, what kind of creep says that to a stranger they literally just met?”

“Uh, you?”

“I know,” she cried. “It just got more awkward from there, and I think he got a little freaked out because I was being so weird.”

“Well, duh.”

“But then he did the sweetest thing. He wrapped the scarf around my neck and goes ‘Here’s you scarf, now you won’t lose it again’,” she finished, imitating his accent. She snuggled into the scarf, recalling the way he had leaned in to place it around her. She could still vaguely remember his cologne, something classy and subtle.

“Okay, you weirdo, you can keep dreaming about all the different ways you should have handled that situation, later,” Stel pulled her back to the world. “Right now I need you on the register, paying attention. I’m going to the back to finish these flower arrangements. Call if you need anything.”

With that, Stel collected her tools and tulips and disappeared into the back room.

Smiling at her friend’s words, she went about preparing for the day ahead.

*

“Have a lovely afternoon,” she handed the bouquet of carnations to the man, just as the doorbell chimed again.

Her eyes scanned the small shop, looking to see who she would next offer her help to when she spotted the newcomer. His back was to her but she recognised his slicked-back brown curls. She froze.

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath. She quickly ducked beneath the counter, trying to think of an escape route. She whipped her head left and right, racking her brain for a solution. Stel was in the back, if she could just get her attention, she could make her deal with him instead. He wouldn’t even have to know she was here.

Dropping to her hands and knees, she slowly crawled across the floor towards the doorway connecting the shopfront to the back room. It was situated several feet to the left. Keeping against the wall, she prayed he wouldn’t notice her when she was no longer hidden by the counter. As she reached the edge of her protective wall, she hesitated before taking a deep breath and continuing out into the open.

“Please don’t see me, please don’t see me,” she muttered. She was almost there, only a few more inches.

“Excuse me?”

Hearing the familiar voice behind her, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Shit.

She inhaled and stood. Her back straight and chin up, she pumped herself to turn around and face him. There was nothing else she could do at this point. This was it; she had to answer to the humiliation.

Oh, god.

But then at the last possible second, she squeaked, “Be right back,” and darted through the doorway.

Leaning against the wall, out of sight, she exhaled.

Phew, that was close.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped.

“Jesus, Stel! You scared me,” she whisper-yelled, hand over her heart.

Stel raised her eyebrow at her.

“Shit, Stel, it’s the guy! The British guy from this morning, he’s out there right now.”

She peeped around the doorframe. He was looking at the roses.

“What? Where? Let me see,” Stel exclaimed, scrambling to peer into the shop as well.

“Shh, he’ll hear you.”

“Oh man, you weren’t kidding. He is gorgeous.”

“Right?” she asked in agreement.

“Well get out there.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“No… now’s your chance to go show him you aren’t a total weirdo and get his number,” she stated, matter-of-factly. When she was met with an astonished expression, she nodded her head in encouragement.

“I don’t think –,” she began to protest but Stel shoved her out the door and into the shop. Her stumble caused him to turn towards her. She glared back at Stel before putting on her best customer service smile and walking behind the counter once more.

She could see the recognition dawning on his face and she cursed mentally. She was hoping he wouldn’t remember her but clearly he did. She could sense Stel in the other room, waiting to hear his reaction. She prepared herself for the worst.

“May I get a dozen red roses, please?”

“Huh?”

Wait, maybe he didn’t recognise her after all.

“A dozen red roses?” he repeated, “Please.”

Oh.

He really didn’t remember her.

She moved to where the roses were located, stepping past him. She caught a whiff of his cologne and was surprised to realise she was disappointed. He was probably buying the roses for his girlfriend. Why would he remember some random girl he met in the street when he already has a beautiful one to buy a dozen red roses for?

Picking out twelve of the best flowers, she returned to the counter. She bunched them into a bouquet, very aware of him watching her. She suddenly felt very warm, uncomfortably warm. Placing the roses down on the countertop, she unravelled her scarf. She put it by the register and continued the order.

Tying the bow, she looked up at him and plastered a smile on her face.

“That’ll be $38.95,” she said.

They completed the transaction and she handed him the bouquet.

“Have a lovely day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

He took the flowers and walked out the shop. She watched him go, sadness overcoming her. Stel came out and stood beside her.

“Man, I can’t believe he didn’t remember you.”

“Yeah.”

She began to clear away the scraps and cut-offs. Hearing the bell chime again, she looked up to greet the new customer. Her fake cheeriness dropped, replaced by shock, when she saw who it was.

“My mum won’t mind if I only give her eleven roses.”

He held out a single red rose, one she had wrapped into his bouquet, only moments ago. He also held the receipt, on it was scribbled some numbers.

She looked at him, bewildered. She tentatively reached out and took the rose and piece of paper.

“I – I thought you didn’t –,” she stammered.

“How many cute girls are there in this town who wear bright blue scarves?” he grinned.

“I…”

“Call me.”

Then he left. She was dumbfounded. She looked down at the receipt in her hand. There was a name alongside the number.

Tom.

BTS Reaction - Pulling away

Seokjin

Jin’s practically shaking with laughter as he tells you his anecdote, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, but really, you’re only half-listening.

“And then Kookie, he said-”  Jin cuts himself short when he looks at you from across the table, his eyebrows starting to pull downward into a frown as he realises how little you’re actually paying attention.  Usually you’d be laughing along with him - you’ve got the same lame sense of humour he does, and he loves you for it - but tonight you’re just staring at your plate, poking at your food, and it’s starting to unsettle him.  “Jagi, is everything ok?”  

“Hm?” you ask distractedly, only glancing up at him for a moment before your eyes drop once more.  

“Don’t you like it?”  

“It’s fine, Jin, I’m just… I’ve just gone off fish a little lately,” you tell him.  It’s a lame excuse, but you’d rather tell him that than tell him the truth - tell him that the reason you can’t eat is because you feel so nauseous with anxiety that you might throw up if you eat anymore.  

“Ah, it’s a good job I made your favourite dessert then!” he says enthusiastically, getting up from the table and whisking your still-full plate out from in front of you to take it to the kitchen.  “Can’t have you going hungry.”  

God, why does he have to be so sweet all the time?  So god damn perfect?  It’ll only make it feel so much worse when it eventually falls apart - and you know it will, because when you’re involved everything always does.  It’s inevitable.  

“You know what, I think I might just go home,” you say quickly, before he’s even managed to pull on his gloves to take out the apple pie you can smell cooking in the oven.  He falters, coming to a standstill between the kitchen counters, and when you finally bring yourself to look at him it makes your heart thud painfully.  “I don’t feel too good.”  

“Ok, let me drive you-”

“It’s fine, I’ll get a cab.”  If you say ‘it’s fine’ one more time this evening you think you might punch yourself in the face.  It’s not fine, nothing is, but you know it’s best you pull away a little now, before you both get in too deep. At least it might help to soften the blow.  

“Ok….” you hear him mumble as he turns off the oven and you pull on your coat.  He walks you to the door, and now it’s him that can’t look at you.  “Hope you feel better soon.”  

“Thanks.”

“See you soon?”

“See you soon,” you reply, and it feels like a goodbye.   

Originally posted by lavender-kills

Yoongi

“So I was thinking; there’s a new Mexican place that’s opened,” Yoongi tells you, his voice sounding even lower than usual over the phone after he’s clearly just woken up.  “You wanna go check it out sometime?”

“Hm… I dunno,” you mumble, rolling over in bed, your cell smushed between your ear and the pillow.  

“C’mon, their churros are supposed to be the shit.”  Despite yourself, you end up smiling at Yoongi’s words.  You wish you hadn’t though.  That momentary flicker of happiness now just makes you feel all the more miserable as you stare at the picture of Yoongi and you you’ve got pinned to your bedside cabinet.  

“I don’t really like Mexican food…”  You’re trying so hard to find an excuse not to make plans, to avoid seeing him for a little while.  It’s not that you don’t care about Yoongi.  Jesus, you most definitely do - but therein lies the problem.  It’s starting to feel scary now, how close you’re becoming.  You’re seeing each other too often, he’s texting you every day, and it feels wrong now if you go to sleep without hearing him say goodnight.  This growing dependency on him, this vulnerability; it’s terrifying.  

“Since when?” he scoffs, and all you can do in reply is sigh.  There’s a silence on the other end of the line, and in the end you have to roll away from that picture of the two of you that you love so much.  His eyes are too penetrating, too perceptive, even in a frozen image.  “What about chinese then?  You love chinese.”   He’s right, you do, and there’s no way you can deny that - not when the last time you went you ended up stuffing your face so much that he had to nurse you with a bad belly for the rest of the night.  

“Can I maybe just take a raincheck?  I’ve got so much work to do, Yoongi, and I’m sure you’re busy too.”  

There’s silence again but this time it feels uncomfortable, and it’s making you fidget even without being able to see the frosty expression you know he’ll be wearing right now.  

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Noona?  I’ve done it enough times myself to know when someone’s holding back.”  You swallow hard, staring at the wall and starting to chew your thumbnail nervously.  What are you supposed to say when he’s called you out like that; made you feel like the idiot you know you are?

He gives you an adequate amount of time to reply, to turn back from this road you’re travelling down, but when no response comes you hear him sigh, even his voice turning cold when his next words travel into your ears.  

“Either call me when you’re ready to get real, or don’t bother calling me at all.”  

Originally posted by minshoot

Hoseok

“Ah, babygirl, that was amazing.”  Hobi’s still panting from exertion as he lies next to you, staring at the ceiling with the goofiest of grins on his faces.  He’s always like this after you’ve had sex, always deliriously happy, like every time you do it is his first time, and you know what’s coming next.  

He rolls onto his side, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to cover your naked, sticky bodies and then snuggling closer, slinging his arm over his hip and pulling you close, sweat be damned.  He always gets so affectionate too, so tactile when he’s dosed up on oxytocin, and though at first you loved it, lately it’s become nothing but a source of anxiety to you.  It’d be fine if cuddling was all it was, but it’s not just that.  No, Hobi insists on lying there staring at you like you’re his everything, his entire world, his eyes taking in every little of your face until you end up laughing and batting him away, telling him to stop being such a freak.  

You don’t want him to look at you like that and nor do you want to be placed on his pedestal; not when you know it’ll make your inevitable fall from grace so much higher and more painful.   You don’t deserve all these loving looks and touches, not when you’re going to break his heart.  Though you don’t yet know how it’ll happen yet you know it will, because it’s just what you do.  

“I wish we could do this all day, every day,” he says wistfully, reaching up to thumb your cheek, staring back into your eyes.  You try to diffuse things with humour, rolling your eyes and pushing his hand away from your face, trying to ignore the way hurt flickers across his face.  

“That’s ‘cus you’re a horny bastard, Hobi.”  You sit up to put some distance between you, running your fingers through your hair to try and put it right.  Of course, he then sits up too, smoothing out the part of your hair at the back you can’t see to fix with his gentle hands.   

“Not just for that,” he persists, smiling cheekily, “I just like having you here, sex or no sex.  C’mon, wouldn’t you love to wake up to this face every morning?”   

“I guess,” you answer non-committedly, trying not to let your mind even hope to dream of your life ever being so wonderful.  You need to get out of here, before he starts dangling more perfect happy-ever-afters in front of your face, lies that you know will never come true.  Finding your underwear you start to get dressed, avoiding the questioning look in Hobi’s eyes.

“I thought you didn’t have to work today?”

“Yeah…” You pull your sweater on, glad that it hides your face, even for just a second.  “But I’ve got a lot I need to get done so…”  

“I’d kind of… I mean I’d planned on us having the whole day together…” he says quietly, unable to hide the disappointment and confusion on his face.  “If I’d known you were gonna go so soon I wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry, Hobi, it was fun.” You slip your feet into your shoes, practically running to his bedroom door as soon as they’re on, forcing a false smile on your face.  “I had fun.”  Fun, that’s all it is… it’s all it was ever supposed to be.  You weren’t supposed to end up liking him, needing him, lovin- “Let me know next time you wanna hook up.”  

“Hook up,” he repeats, his voice breaking.  Hobi looks like you’ve just plunged a knife straight into his heart, and though it breaks your own to see him in so much pain, you know it’s for the best.  Better now, rather than later.  “Right… sure.”  

Originally posted by jhopetal

Namjoon

“So… what do you think?”  

What do you think?  You think the song you just heard was amazing; one of the best Namjoon’s ever written, and that’s saying a lot when he’s so ridiculously talented to begin with.  You’re stunned, dumbstruck by the fact he’d write such beautiful lyrics about you, for you, and if you were a better person you’d probably start to cry with joy that your boyfriend wants to tell the world just how much you mean to him.  

But you’re not a good person, not like him, not even close, so instead of telling Namjoon how proud you are of him, how much you’ve come to love him, you say anything you can think of to drive a wedge between you.

“I don’t think you should put it on the album,” you say blankly, trying to keep your face impassive as you look back into his hopeful eyes.  “I don’t think the executives would be happy with it.”  His face falls, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to fathom you’re unexpected response.  You see his jaw clench, and you know he’s trying so hard to brace himself for whatever constructive criticism he thinks is coming.  It’s taken a long time for him to learn to do that so graciously; yet another skill he’s mastered.

“You don’t like it?  I know the bridge needs some work, but I can fix-”

“The song’s fine, Joonie,” you interrupt, making him pause mid-swivel in his chair to turn back to you rather than his desk.  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.  ARMY won’t like you shoving your love-life in their faces - they want you guys permanently single so they can keep all their little fantasies about you.” Namjoon seems stunned into silence for a moment, and honestly, you’re a little impressed at just how reasonable your argument sounds too.  Cold, yes, but logical.  Surely with his big brain Namjoon should be happy enough accept your reasoning and let it lie?  

He’s quiet for a long while, face pensive until he finally get up out of his chair and comes to sit beside you, taking your hand.

“I don’t care.  We’ve always been able to write write the music we want… how we want it.  And the fans want us to be happy.”  Well… how do you argue with that?  He sits stroking the back of your hand with his thumb while he waits for you to say something, and now your mind has gone blank, unable to think of anything to say that won’t just sound harsh or cruel.  

“You might be happy to tell the world about us, Joonie but… I’m not.”  Harsh it is then.  You take your hand back, clamping both of them between your legs as you look to the floor, avoiding the hurt in his eyes.  “We never said this was going to be anything serious.”

“I see.”  His voice is tight, controlled as he speaks, suddenly sitting up straighter. He waits for a second, perhaps to see if you’ll sat any more, take it all back, but when you don’t he simply returns to his desk, facing the screen like you’re not even there.  “You may as well go home… I’m gonna be up all night trying to re-write this.”  

Originally posted by chimchams

Jimin

Your phone goes off for what feels like the hundredth time today, an unpleasantly harsh trill that shrieks through your otherwise quiet apartment, and once again you have to fight the urge to look, to read the text you know is waiting for you there.  If you look you’re more likely to reply, and you’re trying so, so hard to give yourself some space, to put some distance between you and the man you’re getting far too close to.  

You know what it’ll say anyway, more or less.  It’ll be Jimin being his usual sweet self, asking if you’re ok, asking you to please, please get back to him.  Why aren’t you replying?  Are you sure you’re ok?  Do you need him to come over?  Why are you so quiet?  It’s killing you. Every time your phone goes off it feels like a punch to the gut, because you do so desperately want to reply.  But you can’t, you mustn’t.  You’ve gotten too attached to him, too attached to this perfect boy whom all the girls want to touch.

You’re not stupid.  You’ve seen his fan-pages, you’ve seen the things they say about him.  And it’s not like you can blame them, but you’re too insecure to deal with having a boyfriend who’s wanted by so many.  You’ve been cheated on once before, and it’ll only be a matter of time before Jimin realises he’s too good for you and does the same; finds another girl who’s prettier and thinner and more interesting than you.  It’s better for you to protect yourself now, to pull away while you still can, before it’s too late.  

So you ignore his messages even as tears roll down your cheeks, lying on the sofa and holding yourself, just waiting for it to stop hurting so much.  Time passes, although you don’t keep track of how much; all you know is that eventually it goes dark outside, and your tired eyes are just starting to droop when all of a sudden your doorbell rings, jolting you awake again.  

You shuffle your way over to the door, half-asleep and wrapped in your blanket, pulling it open before you think to look through the spy-hole to check who it is.  Of course it would be Jimin standing there to see you looking like this, like the mess that you are, his eyes widening as he takes in your bloodshot eyes.

“Oh baby… baby, what’s wrong?” He steps inside before you can stop him, wrapping you up in his arms over the top of your blanket, pulling your head into the crook of his neck.  

You don’t want this, or at least for second you try to tell yourself that you don’t… but it’s just no use.  Relenting, you let yourself be held by him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave that’s become synonymous with happiness and giving yourself over to it all, at least for now.  You let him kiss you with your face in his hands, let him promise you that he’ll make it all ok, and you let yourself believe in this lie, just for a little while longer.  

“You know I love you… Whatever it is, baby, we’ll fix it… I love you,” he tells you over and over, his face pressed into your hair and all you can do is cry because you know you love him too, and you know it’ll never be enough.  

Originally posted by sosjimin

Taehyung

“Tae, Tae, stop it!” you giggle, trying your best to throw him off whilst ensuring you’re clenching your pelvic floor as hard as you possibly can; he’s be tickling you for what feels like forever now, and you’ll be damned if you give him the satisfaction of peeing yourself for him to tease you about that too.  

“Not until you call me Oppa!” he shouts back, sat on your stomach, his bony fingers digging into your ribs as he grins down at you.  He’s such a masochist - you know he’s getting off on this really, watching you squirm and struggle.

“You’re like one month older than me, weirdo!”

“Op-pa!” he persists, accentuating every syllable, his eyes narrowing when you shake your head.  His fingertips start to creep towards your armpits, your weakest spot, and no matter how hard you try to push his hands away he’s just too strong.  You barely make it ten seconds before you’re shouting ‘oppa’ over and over again, tears streaming from your eyes, just wanting it to end.  Finally, he relents, sitting up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

That’s when you chose your moment to strike.  You reach out to twist his nipples through his shirt, grinning wickedly, but before you can do anything Taehyung’s grabbed both your wrists and pinning them above your head, growling like an animal.  A beat passes where you just look at each other, both out of breath, and then you’re laughing again, in hysterics as you so often are when you’re together, only stopping when Taehyung eagerly crashes his lips against yours.

You expect the kiss to become more passionate, if anything, so you’re surprised when it gets softer, Tae letting go of your wrists to stroke his hands gently through your hair and down onto your face.  When he pulls away, still rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks, there’s something shining in his eyes that you’ve never seen from him before, some emotion that until now has been unknown.  You know exactly what it is though, you know because it’s exactly the same thing you can feel swelling in your own chest.  

He opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when you panic.  You’re not ready to hear those words again, and you’re certainly not ready to say them again.  Not after last time, not after what happened when-

You sit up abruptly, pushing him off you and hurrying to stand, grabbing your jacket from the sofa to leave before Taehyung snatches it back from your hand after having stood up almost as quickly as you.  He look so confused, his mouth hanging open, head tilted to the side as he tries to make sense of your sudden and unexpected change in behaviour.

“What’s-”

“Just don’t say it, Tae,” you snap, snatching your jacket back but just holding it there by your side, fist clenched, “I don’t want to hear it, ok?  Don’t say it, because you can’t take it back.”  

“Jagiya…” he whispers softly, his eyes starting to mist over with moisture, chin practically trembling as you flinch away from the touch of his hand.  

“Just… just leave it, please?”  You sound like you’re begging, on the verge of tears now too, and before he can try to reach out to you again you run from his apartment, leaving Taehyung to dissolve into tears, wondering how on earth it all suddenly went so wrong.  

Originally posted by jjks

Jungkook

He’s been getting possessive lately - it’s all too obvious for anyone who looks to see.  Every time you hang out with the rest of the group he keeps getting all… handsy.  Not in an inappropriate way or anything, but any time you’re talking to another guy he’ll just casually wrap his arm around your waist or lay it across your shoulder, like he’s subtly marking his territory.

You’re sure other girls wouldn’t mind.  They’d probably love to have someone like Jungkook lay his claim on them, thrilled to be considered such a prize worth protecting, but when he does it to you all you can think about is your ex-boyfriend and how he used to be exactly the same. Jealous, possessive, irrational, constantly accusing you of cheating even though he was the one that was fucking your best friend behind your back.  Ex-best friend, should you say.  

There’s a lot of ex’s in your past, for one reason or another, and that’s why after a few dates you’re still resisting Jungkook’s attempts to make the two of you into something more.  You can do without another ex to add to your list, thank you very much, no matter how much you can feel him getting under your skin with each and every day that passes.  That’s just another reason why you want to keep him at arm’s length - you can’t afford to let yourself be vulnerable.  Not again.  You’re not letting anyone hurt you like that ever again.  

Jungkook seems to be feeling particularly threatened today, though you’re not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it’s because of the skirt you’re wearing, or maybe it’s the way Yoongi keeps looking at you from across the room, but either way it’s starting to get your back up.  He doesn’t own you, and it’s the desire to show Jungkook exactly that that eventually drives you across to the other side of the studio to sit down next to Yoongi, smiling like a cheshire cat.  

You can feel his eyes on you the moment you strike up a conversation, eyes that you pointedly ignore, choosing instead to act like everything Yoongi says is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.  You lean your body into his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you laugh, placing your hand on his thigh and leaving it to linger there far longer than necessary.  Yoongi’s loving every second of it, lapping it up until Jungkook finally snaps and comes striding over, trying to look casual and failing miserably at doing so.

“Namjoon wants you,” he tells Yoongi, not even looking at his elder as he says it.  No, his eyes are fixed on you, full of both anger and hurt, and the moment Yoongi gets up with a groan Jungkook is taking his spot, flopping down at your side.  You see him tick his head to the side, clenching his jaw in the silence that follows, and find yourself smiling before you can help it at his adorable habit.  

God damn it, you really need to put a stop to this now, before you get even more attached than you already are.  

“Why were you acting like that?” he asks after a moment, once he’s sure the rest of his friends are sufficiently preoccupied.

“Acting like what?” you reply, sounding as innocent as possible, and you know it’s pissing him off because his jaw clenches again, his hands balling into fists and relaxing again where they hang over his knees.

“Flirting with Yoongi like that.  You were all over him.”  

“So?” you blurt out, only realising after you’ve already said it just how cold and callous you sound.  Jungkook actually looks taken aback when you turn your head to the side to look at him, his usually soft, doe eyes widened in confusion, no anger left to see.  

“So…?” he repeats quietly.  You stare him out, trying not to flinch at the sharp feeling of guilt that stabs through you when he falters first, turning his head with a shake and looking to the ground, swallowing against the lump you can guess that’s forming in his throat.  “I thought…”

“We’ve been on like… what… four dates, Jungkook?”  You sound condescending and cruel, and you hate yourself for it.  What a heartless bitch those exs have turned you into, huh?  “You can’t tell me you thought it was serious?”  

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

Beetlejuice (Connor Murphy x reader fic part 1 of 2)

THIS IS A GHOST AU. LIKE CONNOR IS DEAD BUT YOU MEET HIM IN HIS LIL GHOST FORM. IT’S NOT AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS. OR MAYBE IT’S EXACTLY AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS.

Guys. It is like crazy long. And only part one. I’m going to post part two in a few days but I split them up because i’m still working on an ending. I honestly have no clue if anyone will wanna read this because it’s so fucking long. But this is like a Connor Ghost fic where you move into his house after his family moves out to get over Connor’s death and he haunts you but you guys become friends and idk this idea was so good in my head idk it I did it justice but maybe someone will enjoy. Part two will not be long because 1.) lack of motivation 2.) lack of ideas 3.) I’m making you guys read all this I won’t continue to waste more of your time. also this was so hard to edit so i’m sure there are one thousand mistakes im sosososos sorry.

TW: suicide, self harm, bullying, anxiety, depression, swearing, angst, fuck it’s sort of sad idk i feel for ghost connor

12,085 words yikes

You jolted up, your sleep disturbed by loud (and quite rude) banging at your bedroom door. You shot up quickly, trying to figure out what the hell was happening at…

You checked your phone which was shoved under your pillow, the illumination making you flinch from your unadjusted eyes.

It was 12:00.

The knocking ceased momentarily, which made you think you were hearing things due to exhaustion. Plus, there was no way it was your parents, seeing as they were the oldest middle aged people you knew, hitting the pillow before 9:30. You relaxed, regretting it seconds later when the knocking came back.

You brought your legs close to your chest, covering your mouth so whoever was there couldn’t hear your breathing. You decided to quickly get up, drawing the cover off your bare legs and moving nimbly to your empty closet, trying to avoid the maze of boxes that crowded your room. You’d just moved in, it was literally your first night at the house and probably the last day of existence. You thought this was a good neighborhood, and your parents had an alarm system. Surely your dad would come running to save you or maybe they’re calling the people. Or maybe the imagined murderer already killed them, coming for you to finish the job. You could feel the tears well up in your eyes as you closed the walk in closet door as quickly as you could. Fuck. Is this the part you were supposed to pray for forgiveness? Fuck. You had leftovers in the fridge from tonight that you were really looking forward to eat for lunch tomorrow. Then you thought how pathetic that was, having that be your last breathing thought of your fleeting life. Your door swung open, not hearing any footsteps but a sudden pounding on your closet door. You were shaking, hands covering your mouth, resulting in tears to flow.

“Zoe! I know you were in my room. I can’t get in. You fucking locked it you bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you with the key when I find it. Stop messing with my head, I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.” The voice screamed out desperately, followed by angry sobs. Your tears ceased however. Zoe? What the hell? What’s happening? The closet door swung open, but no one was even there. All was quiet, you were so shaken up you couldn’t move for five whole minutes. It was like you were frozen. You were tired. Maybe, that was some sort of nightmare of sleep paralysis. Because where the hell did the voice come from. How the hell did your door fly all the way open without a single person in sight. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. From lack of sleep or from that weird black mold that grows in the walls you heard about in that short weird documentary on YouTube. That’s the only plausible thing. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to blink away to exhaustion. You finally exited out of the tiny space, going to reach for the closet door knob to cease it shut. Before your hand even got near it, it slammed closed, causing you to open your eyes swiftly.

“What the hell is your problem, Zo-” A boy stood before you, looking half dead. Not even half, but fully dead. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked like he had bags under his eyes, and even in the dark, you could see a large circular purple mark all the way around his neck.

You fucking started screaming.

“Shit!” he cupped his hands over your mouth, the temperature of Antarctica hovering over your lips. “I didn’t realize Zoe had friends over. Shut up you’re going to wake up my parents.” This is when you started crying. Not only did he murderer sneak into your home, he was a complete lunatic. His parents? Zoe? He was fucking nuts and he was definitely going to kill you. You went to shove him away, but your hands went through, like he was mist. Now, you started to ball. You were the crazy one. You convinced yourself you developed schizophrenia overnight and were losing it, or it was definitely the black mold. He looked as scared as you did, backing away. He touched his stomach, which his hands didn’t go through at all. His face was unreadable, then he was unreadable, vanishing into thin air.

You didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

The next day you walked around void, scared to go even take a nap. You convinced yourself it was just a nightmare. A nightmare you don’t remember falling asleep to or waking up from but that’s what you decided. You needed to tell yourself it was fine. You also googled that hallucinating black mold, and that really only grows in really old houses, so you eliminated that. It was fine. Everything was fine. Your parents commented on how tired you looked. Brushing it off, you just told them how excited you were about the new house, and you couldn’t sleep. A lie, but since you were lying to yourself why not make some more up. Night quickly approached as you tried to fix up your room, figuring where your desk and bookshelves should go. Plus, nothing else really weird happened. You stayed up, busying yourself by decorating. When the banging started again. It was midnight

“Zoe!”

Fuck.

So, reality was hitting you. Were you crazy? Was this house fucking haunted. You never really believed in ghosts, but that wasn’t to say it didn’t scare the crap out of you. The door slammed open about, without a person there. You froze in place again, waiting for it to just appear again. It went straight to the closet again, banging loudly.

“Why are you doing this?” Similar words whimpering out of his mouth. You think about running into your parent’s room, like how you did when you were 5. But you were just stuck. The hallucination, or ghost, or whatever, had their back toward you. It was definitely a guy, his voice low and sort of nasally. He had shoulder length hair, you couldn’t tell if it was black or brown, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans. He disappeared and the closet door slammed open, as it did the other night. Connor reappeared right in front of you, your eyes wide and just in utter shock.

He hissed: “Who the hell are you?” His eyes were a very dull blue with what seemed to be brown spot that now seemed more gray than anything. They were lifeless. Below was a nose that had a few bumps down the slope, and a wide mouth with a soft, but prominent cupid’s bow. His neck was even more visible than the night before, making your skin crawl as you peered at the purple mark that was the entire circumference of his neck. You subconsciously dug your nails into your palms, feeling pain within seconds. So you were definitely awake. Next was to test if this was a hallucination from sleep deprivation. You squeeze your eyes shut, as hard as you can you think your face might melt, scared to open them back up. He was still there, with a face of confusion mixing with anger. Okay, now it was ghost checking time. You gently went to put your arm through him, ghosts are just apparitions right? Your whole hand went through his body.

“W-what..?” he stuttered out, almost like a croak.

You pondered, how could he touch you but you couldn’t touch him. A realization came to you, causing you to jerk your hand back. He could hurt you but you can’t even defend yourself against him. Tears started to spill again.

“Please don’t hurt me.” you whimpered softly, completely submissive.

His eyes widen, freaked out that you thought he was trying to hurt you. “I’m not… I wouldn't…. how… what…” he was totally as confused as you were. Probably more scared than you, if that was even possible. This boy is dead and he doesn’t even know. The sound of footsteps approach your door, and the ghost was gone.

“Why is your light still on, sweetie?” your mother comes in, wincing from the brightness.

“Sorry, I’ll wrap it up soon.” you told her, again, like nothing was wrong. You quickly turned away, shielding your tears from her. She was oblivious and didn’t even notice. Your mom walks into your room, admiring your wall of old pictures of your friends.

“This is nice…” she says, trailing off knowing you weren’t happy with the move becasue you were an hour away from all your friends now. You hum meekly, not able to say a word about the topic. “I’m really sorry honey. It was just… You know your dad got this new job. And neither of us wanted to move your senior year but… We didn’t have a choice. You know that.”

“It’s fine, mom. I’ll meet new friends! And I’ll still have them! So I’ll have twice the amount of friends now.” you struggled to fake enthusiasm, but your mother’s density seemed to buy it

“Well. You gotta go to the new school tomorrow. It’s Monday now, so you gotta get up early. You can even take my car. Maybe I’ll ask your dad if he’d be willing to buy you your own! Uh? How about that.”

“Sounds great. That’d be really cool…” you tried to say with fervor, but it came off more sarcastic.

Your mom came over to you and planted a kiss on your forehead. “You know I love you, sweetie.” you nod in response as she turns to leave, turning the light out on the way out.

The boy didn’t come back again that night

—.

School sucked. You didn’t meet any new friends. Kids looked at you weird. The school was a lot bigger than your last one. You were late to one of your classes. And the walls were bare, with the exception of some random suicide prevention posters up. They gave you a sour taste in your stomach. The words “The Connor Project” almost screaming out to you as you passed them at the end of each hallway. Was Connor a kid at your school? Is? Was? That was even more disturbing to think about, there was a dead kid at your new school that everyone is probably mourning and you have no clue who this kid even was.

Unless.

No. No! That was completely ridiculous. Absolutely not.

Once you got home, you found yourself opening your laptop typing the name of the school and the name on the posters.

Connor Murphy -  Obituaries

You clicked the link, leading you to an obit from almost a year ago that contained a school picture.

Fuck.

The colored picture was a kid looking straight into the camera. A kid that had sad heterochromic eyes. A kid with a bumpy nose. A kid with a wide mouth with a define cupid’s bow. A kid was long brown shoulder length hair.

A kid that looked eerily similar to whatever you saw last night.

You ran downstairs. Your mom making god-knows-what in the kitchen with your dad.

“Did a kid kill himself in this house.” you blurted out. You didn’t want to put it that way. That sounded insensitive. But the words were already out there. You mom was shocked, eyes wide and she brought her lips in, as if she was sealing them. You’re dad pushed up his sleeves and tilted his head to the right, squeezing his eyes closed as if he was trying to read the lines he was about to tell you, like they were tiny little cue cards in his head.

“We should all sit down.” he calmly said. Good one, father. Rehearsed that perfectly. The three of you head over to the couch, you sitting on the chair opposite, like they were having an intervention for you that you started.

Your father started. “There was a family who lived here. The Murphy’s.” Christ. It’s been confirmed.

“They had two children. Zoe… and er…” your mom took control of the conversation but paused before saying his name. “and Connor.”

“Last year… Around this time. Connor…” Your mother covered her mouth, like she was going to start to cry. You wanted to roll your eyes at her fake sympathy. Your father took her hand.

“He hung himself, (y/n)”

Your mother chimes in, “(y/fathers/n)! You don’t have to be so brash. God! Sweetie, the young man, the Murphy’s son, committed suicide. He was very unhappy, sweetie. And if you’re ever going through anything-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you guys about anything I’m going through or whatever.” You lied. Not necessarily about the depression bit, but more over on the side of telling them things. No way in hell were you going to tell them you thought the house was haunted. They’d think you were just paranoid. “Um… where did it happen?” They knew what you meant by it.

In his bedroom. Which, is my office now. That’s why we had you take the girls room. Just because you were destined to find out. And I know that wouldn’t sit right with you” Your dad said. You sighed, sinking back in your chair. After letting all the information set in, you went slowly back up to your room, pulling out your phone.

You googled: exorcists in my area.

Bad news was that this new town didn’t seem to have any exorcists nearby, and the closest one was about 3 hours away and charged a hell of a lot. Money you didn’t have. Money you couldn’t even ask your parents for because imagining what that conversation would be like was one that wouldn’t go. Not even well, just wouldn’t go. So you decided if you’re going to be living here for the next year before going off to college. It was ghost befriending time. You felt a little stupid typing into the search bar “how to befriend a ghost that doesn’t know he’s a ghost living in your house .” Nothing. You went for something more broad. “Befriending ghosts”. More, not many, results showed up, causing you to scan through them. You read almost every article on the first two pages. Even watched some videos (with headphones in case the parents would hear). Also, you may or may not have taken notes. It was getting late, and you heard your parents go to bed. Connor was going to knock any minute, your phone was at 11:59. You walked up to your door. And as soon as a knock happened, you swung it open. Connor angrily standing there, bewildered now.

“Shit.” he said under his breath. You signaled for him to come in. “I,” he paused. “What happened to Zoe? What happened to my parents? Where are they.” he was started to catch on, realizing  something was up.

Even though you were scared, you also felt like you owed him something. You weren’t sure why, but he needed to know. At least a little.

“They don’t live here anymore, Connor.”

“What… What are you saying. Where the hell are they? And… H-how do you even know my name?” he stammered over his words, not looking at me. I tried to avoid his neck.

“Connor… do you know what you are.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He ignores you. Instead, he’s focused on the mirror hung up on the wall. Shit, he can’t look at himself like that. He will freak. You follow his line of sight, seeing you. Just you. Of course, he wouldn’t be there. He’s not living.

“Oh my god…” he started to breath heavier and heavier, until tear start falling.

“I’m so-”

“Stop! This is some weird nightmare. Some weird long nightmare… That I’m only remembering bits and pieces of as I go more and more into my sleep. I’m going to wake up. I’m going to go to school. I’m going to live a miserable life and make everyone else miserable. I’m-” He’s basically wheezing for air. He fell to the ground, you going by his side, going to try to embrace him until he disappeared.

Well. That went superb.

It had been a couple of days, and you saw no sign of Connor. But you could still sense him lingering, the air always seeming colder when he was around. You’d call out his name. And… Nothing. It was like he was hiding.

Anyway, school was the same. But today was particularly bad, it was worse by one thousand percent than all the other days combined.

You overheard some kids talking in English. “It’s the anniversary.” one said, almost as if he was amused.

“Shut up. I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. You’re messed up.” a girl hissed at him.

“I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Happy?” she was repulsed.

“Well, if you think about it. It was either us or him.” It clicked in you. They were talking about Connor.

“What the hell do you mean by that.” she asked. You asked the same question in your head. You pretended to look for a pencil inside your bag, turning your body 90 degrees so you could actually hear better as you rummaged through your bag.

The boy with glasses breathed out, “I mean that he would’ve shot up the school if he didn’t snap his neck. That’s what I mean.” the girl looked at him with utter disgust. “You act like that’s far-fetched.”

“Connor wasn’t like that. You didn’t know him.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t either.” they paused. You glanced back, trying to figure out why they stopped. They both peered over at you.

“Could you give us some damn privacy.” the boy growled. You quickly turned back, facing the front of the room, heart beating out of your chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. You already made an enemy, and you didn’t have any friends yet to comfort you. You held your breath for what seemed like the rest of class, zoning out of their conversation, the lecture, everything. The bell snapped you out of it. You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey.” a feminine voice called out. You turn around. It was the girl. “I’m really sorry about Jared. He’s a real jerk. I’m Alana.” She stuck out her hand, but you didn’t shake it. You couldn’t. Hand sweat levels were off the radar.

“I’m really sorry for eavesdropping. That was so not cool.” you blurted out.

“No! No, it’s fine, really.” she reassured you, making you comfortable enough to make eye contact. “I, uh, I know you’re new here. You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’m not a stalker or anything i just have to know everyone’s name. I’m running for senior president!” she told you, getting off topic. Shaking her head, “Anyway, enough of the self-promo. Um, what lunch period do you have?

“3rd…” you told her.

“Oh me too! If you want, you can come sit with me.” you weren’t sure if she was being nice, piteous, or deceptive. But you accepted, you didn’t want to eat in the library for the following week, pretending to catch up on your new classes.

Lunch came around and you looked all over for Alana. She spotted you before you spotted her.

“(Y/N)!” she called out much louder than needed to, and everyone looked. Your day was just filled with embarrassment. You walk over, with your head down and sit across from Alana. The boy, Jared was there along with another boy who looked severely uncomfortable as well. You made a mental note, knowing that feeling all to well.

“Hey, Alana.” you decided against a verbal hello to the boys. So you just gave them a nod. Jared just kind of stared at you while the other kid smiled awkwardly back. This was weird. Alana was weird. Jared was weird. That kid was weird. And you were weird. All weird in different ways, so it made it even weirder. You all weren’t even on the same ‘weird’ page.

“So, (Y/N). Sorry about the whole ordeal I made in English.” Jared, the boy with glasses who yelled at you, said. It wasn’t a genuine apology. Alana gritted her teeth at him. “Since you’re new to this school, I’ll tell you a little of its history.” He said, almost demented. It reminded you of something the joker would say (Heath Ledger’s joker, may Heath Ledger rest in peace). “You see, today an important day. It’s the day we lost a fellow student. The anniversary of Connor Murphy’s death.” you gulped down. This was all way too much for you. “Great guy. Really added to the atmosphere here. You see all these kids mourning?”

No one seem to be upset. Oh… you got it. He was being sarcastic.

The awkward kid cut him off, “That’s enough.” he yelled, banging his hand on the table.

“Oh, Evan. I know you must be grieving greatly. You were his best friend after all.” Evan glared at Jared. So that’s his name. Everyone was dead silent. Like, the whole cafeteria. A girl got up and ran out. You swear to god, you recognized her. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend, Zoe. Aren’t you going to go get her?” Zoe? Fuck. Zoe was the sister. Evan followed her out, chasing behind.

“She still goes here.” you accidentally asked with concern aloud. Jared looked at you scarily, almost wanting to smirk. This conversation going exactly as he wanted.

“Oh! So you know about the Murphys? How’s that?”

“Jared, stop it.” Alana told him

“No!” he said, “How do you know about them?”

You couldn’t tell them. You weren’t about to let them know you live in that house. Jared would probably harass you some more.

“I- I don’t. I don’t know anything. I’m just gonna go-” you start to get up.

“No! You can’t go!” he announced. Alana pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell us about it?”

“About what?” you asked back.

“Are you an idiot or something? The house. Alana told us you live in the house. Come on! Is it haunted? I feel like Connor was a troubled soul. Did you exorcise it? You really should look into that!” Your eyes darted over to Alana. She didn’t look at you. Is this why she wanted you to sit there. You jolted up, walking rapidly out of the cafeteria. You went to walk down one hallway but you saw Evan trying to comfort zone, which she seemed more tense and remote in his present. You could tell it would be better for Evan to just leave her alone, but you decided against interfering. You barely knew what the hell happened other than the death of this kid Connor.

School really sucked.

Hours past. It was about midnight and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Really, you couldn’t stop crying. You started crying because of how no one seemed to be nice at this school, then you started bawling about how your old school was fine and how you missed all your friends and the familiarity and everything that this new place isn’t.

“Why are you crying.”

Your head shut up. Connor was at the end of your bed. He stared into the mirror. At nothing.

“You didn’t knock?” trying to make a joke but you accidentally let your voice crack.

The corners of his mouth pulled up, but quickly fell. He got straight to the point, “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked. All you had to do was look at him, and he got the answer from your eyes. He shut his eyes.

You wanted to get his mind off the matter. “School sucks. That’s why I’m crying, if you’re still curious.”

“If you go to the one I go to, you got that fucking right.” neither one of you corrected his wording of the present tense of “to go”. But you both knew.

“People are mean.” you murmured out.

“Yeah… I know.” he clenched his jaw. Shit. You guessed that school was a factor why he did… it. “Who was mean to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Then what do you wanna talk about because you don’t wanna talk about the fact I offed myself, so I’m kind of running out of conversation topics here.” You didn’t say anything. He squeezed his knuckles, digging his nails into his palms like you do sometimes. You didn’t know what to say, he kept going anyway. “It wasn’t Jared Kleinman, was it?” he asked bluntly. So that was his last name. “Fucking Christ, he’s such a dick.” his voice gets a little louder. Your face must of given it away. You made another mental note to show letting your thoughts show to easily. “Avoid him. Just ignore everything he says or does. You have to numb yourself at this school, okay.”

Your ghost was giving you survival tips on how to make it through senior year. It’s ironic, because, he didn’t exactly survive it himself. But this irony was not of the humorous sort. You felt sick.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I just feel dizzy.” the room really started to spin. It’s like you momentarily forgotten you were talking to a literal dead person and when you remember, you reacted the way any normal person would. You passed out.

“Hey, um, girl.” Connor never learned your name. “Hey, um. You aren’t dead too? Right.” Connor almost started to dryly smile to himself. “Because I’m the one who gets to haunt this house, not you.” He checked your pulse. It was strange. He seemed to be able to touch you, but you couldn’t touch him. He was having the same realization as you. He got up. Looking around your room for anything he could find more about you on. He looked along your walls, looking at pictures of you and your friends. There was one of you kisses some guys cheek. Connor got annoyed by it. Why did everyone have someone but him. He looked back at you, the unknown girl to him, and bought a cover up your body. Then disappearing

The following day of school, you guessed it, sucked. You’re starting to see a pattern here.

Alana tried talking to you again. You didn’t want to talk with her though, you didn’t even want to look at her. Jared just kind of would glance at you and quickly look away, guilt lingering in his stares. Then, Evan just kept his head down. Not that you were mad at him or anything. He didn’t do anything. Well, not to you. It seemed something was up with that awkward kid. Like, did he mess around with Zoe or was he a dick to Connor? He didn’t seem like either type, so you let it go.

Jared did approach you after school in the parking lot.

“(Y/N)!” he called out nervously. You kept walking, putting in your earphones to drown him out; drown everything out. You could tell he was still calling stuff out, but you couldn’t hear it over the lyrics of Karma Police. You felt a hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around roughly. Was this kid trying to fight you? He paused your music from your headphones. “Hey.” he said shyly.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You unpaused your music and started toward your car again. This time he ran in front of you, taking out your earphones.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t know why I was like that yesterday. Just, the whole Connor thing kind of tips me off.”

You cut him off not really caring to hear more, “It’s whatever. If you really wanna apologize, just leave me alone and that’d be more than enough.”

“Please, just wait. I don’t want you to think I’m this massive asshole. I mean, I am an asshole. But I was just vindictive yesterday. Something happened after Connor’s death. Something messed up that some kid did and, I uh, I helped him with it. And I still feel guilty. It was fucked up, and I’m still angry about it. So I took it out in you, god knows why.” His voice started to tremble. You started feeling bad, now.

“Jared, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine. None of it was fine. Evan got out of hand, and I was just as bad.”

Confused, you stated: “Evan didn’t really do anything.”

“Not yesterday. Before… The Connor Project. Fuck. Never mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Jared quickly b-lined for his car. You stood there, not understanding one bit.

Maybe Connor will have some answers.

You took a nap when you got home. You haven’t been getting much sleep, and you knew you’d have to wake up at midnight to talk to Connor. Your life was getting weird.

You woke up to a weight at the edge of your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, Connor sitting before you. His hair in front of his face looking at one of your old yearbook. The one from 9th grade.

“You look really different now.” he simpered. Everyone’s 9th grade picture was cringy. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Drawing out each name.

You tore it out of his hands. “So is this how you haunt people? Humiliation? Because the average ghost would flicker the lights on and off, or throw my valuables at me, or write murderous things in my wall with my cat’s blood.”

“You have a cat?”

“You missed the point.”

“Are you really trying to tell me how to be a proper ghost? Because I don’t believe you have that sort of experience under your belt.” he slyly stated.

Without even thinking (which you really should have fucking done), you remarked back, “says the one trying to tell me how to survive high school.” your eyes widen. Did you really just fucking say that. His jaw clenched, digging his nails into his palms, knowing he wouldn’t feel a thing. “Shit. that was supposed to be a joke. But I suppose jokes are funny, and that was just-”

He cut you off, “This sucks. This still sucks so much and I’m still in so much pain. But I can’t even hurt myself. I’m just stuck. Afterlife fucking suck. But high school was so bad, my family was so unbearable, I was so insufferable. Everything was starting to feel not real, I was numbing myself. No one was there for me. No one gave two shits about the freak. No one ever reached out. I had no one. No one to talk to. No one to vent to. No one.”

Your heart started hurting.  An “I’m sorry.” was all you could muster out.

“It’s too late.”

“I know….” you paused. You understood how he felt. Being alone. Being with people didn’t even stop that feeling. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “Do you know an Evan Hansen.” There you went with the present tense again.

The lights started to flicker, you would’ve made a joke if you both weren’t having a serious conversation about it. “Yeah.” he said simply, trying to not get angry. There was pause between the both of you before he continued. “I thought he might’ve been a nice kid. He wasn’t. He made fun of me just like everyone else… With this note. God, that stupid fucking note.”

“What did the note say.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was some prank. Jared probably put him up to it. They just wanted to get in my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry.” He whipped his head at you, “Shit, I mean-”

“It’s fine, (Y/n). Just… try not to. Or whatever. I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. Why’d you ask about Evan?”

“Jared brought him up to me today-”

Connor cut you off, “I thought I told you to avoid that fucking kid. He’s not a nice guy.”

“I tried. No, I tried. He like, hunted me down in the parking lot. Apologizing and telling me some stuff.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s probably trying to make some joke. He thinks he’s the fucking class clown but he’s not even funny.” he paused, curious about what he might have said. “What was the stuff he told you.”

“Um…” you didn’t know whether to tell him about the Connor Project. It was obviously about him, but he didn’t seem to be fond of anyone at his school. Not even his sister. Now wasn’t the right time to bring that up. You know he’d be pissed about it. And now, it pissed you off, feeling like it was a pity project to make people feel better that no one actually cared about Connor.

“Woah, easy.” Connor said, sort of aggressively. He pulled your fingers off your palms, finding little red marks indenting your skin, the skin slightly broken. He brushed his fingers over the marks, you didn’t even realize you started to do that “I do the same thing. It just doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Connor didn’t re-ask what Jared told you. You two kind of talked about random stuff the rest of the night. Like your family (who were very different but similar in the rich neglectful way), your old lives (his living and yours where you used to live), and then music (which surprisingly was very similar! How many people can say their house ghost has a good taste in music. I’d take a wild guess and say next to none!) You stayed up until three, and both of you were getting tired (ghosts need sleep too apparently, existing in that form is draining.) You fell asleep first, curling up your body in a fetal position on your full size bed while Connor sat crossed legged. Before he disappeared, he had the realization that you were cute. Which wasn’t going to be good, finding you attractive.



“(Y/N)?” Jared whispered behind you. Snapping at you to get your attention. “Hey (Y/N) Pst! Hey, hey, (Y/N)!” he started yelling-whispering. “Heeeee-”

“What, Jared?” you hissed back. He leaned back in his desk, smiling widely at you in a goofy way.

“Wanna be partners?” he asked, pretending like you never said to leave you alone.

“Aren’t you usually with Alana?”

“She’s at some Student Council field trip for like three days, so I thought since neither of us have partners. Then we should just group up.”

You corrected him “You can’t find a partner.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re miss popular. I mean, look at all the people begging to be your partner. What? You want me to get on my knees, profess my dire need of your partnership? Huh?”

“No don’t-” …And the boy was on his knees, making a scene.

“Oh, sweet merciful goddess of forgiveness. Please take mercy in me and take me on as your burden. Rise me up through the ashes and make me anew. Oh-”

“Okay okay. Please just stop… whatever you were just doing. Bring a desk over here.” you quickly told him, getting up to stop. You tried to hide your face. Half the class chuckled while the other rolled their eyes. So this was typical. Connor did tell you he was the class clown type. Though, Connor would’ve been a part of the half to roll their eyes.

The two of you started working. It was a MacBeth project. Recreating some scene in a modern day aspect. Jared wouldn’t shut up because how lame it was. Though, as you wrote the script, he would put his two cent on what memes to add. You ignored him.

You couldn’t help but to think about what Jared was telling me yesterday. You knew it was none of your business, but you couldn’t help to feel curious. Especially since you, well know Connor.

“Jared.” you said, not looking up from the paper you were writing on. “Um, what’s the Connor Project?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, “It’s a dead club.” You knew if he didn’t feel guilty about the whole thing, he would have chuckled at his accidentally pun. “The posters are still up just to make everyone feel better. Like the schools doing something when no one is.”

“Well, why isn’t anyone running it.”

“Why are you so curious about it all of the sudden. You didn’t want me to talk to you at all yesterday now you’re asking me questions about this. What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one… I’m just… I don’t know. You, Alana, Evan, and Zoe just were really beat up about it. But no one else seemed to even flinch or bat an eye. Did Connor mean a lot to you.” you weren’t sure why you were asking questions you knew the answers too, people do that a lot to hear what they wanna hear.

“I don’t wanna to talk about it.” No one wanted to talk about anything, you thought.

“I see.”

Jared remarked: “You don't…”

“Why’s that.”

“You don’t know anything that went down. You know some kid killed himself and Evan started the Project. Which is now dead. T-the project, that is.”

“Well, I don’t know anything because no one will tell me.” You thought to yourself for a minute, waiting for a response. Evan started it. But Connor said that Evan wrote that mean note-

“Can we just get back to working in this stupid project.”

You complied. You still had no answers, a fuck ton of questions, and a memeless MacBeth project.

You got home later that day around 3. Connor was already in your room.

“You’re up early.” you say unphased. I mean, come on. A ghost lives in your house and you talk to him daily, what else could phase you at this point.

“Yeah, I haven’t really figured out why though.” he mumbled. He’s lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling. You notice scars all on his forearms. You don’t say anything. “I think my body thought it was 12 at night, when it was really 12 in the afternoon. I’ve been laying here for about 3 hours waiting for you to get home. Why don’t you have a clock in here.”

“Because I have a phone.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even have an alarm clock.”

“My phone is my alarm clock.”

He changed the subject, “How’s school.”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking around at everything other than him. He looked tired and so beat up. It made you incredibly sad. Connor caught on

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me.” he said, annoyed by your distance. “Am I that ugly?” That’s when you realized. Your ghost was cute. But he was hard to look at, seeing all the pain he had to go through. You wanted to start crying for him in a way. But what gave you the right to cry. Also, why did you refer to him as your ghost.

You made yourself make eye contact. Connor noted to himself that if he were alive, he would’ve blushed. But there is no blood running through his body anymore. “You happy. I’m just stressing out about this MacBeth project.”

“The modernization one?”

“Yeah, you did it?”

“I received it.” he said dryly, understanding what he meant. You looked away. He noticed. “Um, you had to partner up with someone right? Who’d you group with?” he asked, trying to steer back the conversation on the right road.

You couldn’t tell him, so you lied: “Alana. I’m not sure what her last name is.”

“Beck. It’s Alana Beck. You’ll ace that one. You’ll just have to deal with her annoying ass.” you smiled at him, reconnecting your eye contact.

“She seems okay.” you lied. You were still mad about what happened at lunch, and how she told Jared about your personal life. So you didn’t care for her.

“She’s, like, obsessed with how people see her.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“You don’t seem that way.”

“I am. I really want to make friends at this school.”

“No one’s worth your time…” he paused, going into a deep thought than coming out of it. “Alana, though. She does all this shit so other people think she’s this kind person like food drives. You know, that kind of shit. But she only does it for bonus points, like, so she can put it all on her college application.” You wondered if she was a part of the Connor Project?

“I mean, at least sees doing something.”

“But she’s not sincere about any of it. She doesn’t care.” he looked really sad again. Not even sad just empty. “I'm… I’m  just gonna go.”

“Wait, Con-” and he disappeared. Then, you felt really alone.

You tried facetiming your old friends. No one was able to pick up. It was Friday. And Fridays at your old town meant bonfire nights. Ugh, it was probably the first fire of senior year, and you were missing it. You were missing all of it. You went on instagram to see all their pictures. First, you looked at the old ones. Then the newer ones. The ones showing you weren’t missed. You noticed a message.

Jared Kleinman wants to send you a message.

Ew. No.

You read it anyway.

@JaredKleinmeme: hey i realized that this has to be a rough draft by monday and we only have half of it done. So we gotta meet up over the weekend. I would say my house but my moms are redoing our floors. So idk where you wanna meet.

No way were you coming here. Connor would have a fit. But you can’t borrow he car over weekends because your mom and dad both work during the day.

You got to message back.

Do you have a car? I don’t think we can come to my house?

He typed back within seconds.

No, i don’t. My parents only let me use theirs when i go to school.

Shit. Sure we can’t do yours???

Positive

Connor only ever seems to be in your room. Maybe if you guys stayed downstairs he’d never know.

Okay. We will make mine work.

Jared came over Saturday. You guys stayed in your living room. Everything was fine until your mom left.

Jared was focused on his computer. Writing out the rough draft.

Connor appeared at the stairs.

“Oh my god!” you screamed out, making Jared jump.

“What the hell?” Jared goes to look, but you grab his head to make him look at you. He turned flush.

“Sorry! I’m still getting adjusted to this house. Sometimes I just think I see things.”

Jared gets serious, “You don’t think it’s, like…. haunted or anything.”

He’s onto you. “Jared. Stop being ridiculous. I didn’t mean it like that.” Shit. Why did you make up that excuse?

“Yeah..” he chuckled meekly. “Sorry… I’m just… paranoid. Connor didn’t like me. For valid reasons. I wasn’t exactly nice to the guy-” a crash sounded upstairs. In a flash, Jared started collecting his stuff. “I-I-I’ll finish the project at home, just don’t worry about.”

“Jared. That was just my cat! It’s fine.” you lied. You didn’t have a cat.

“I know that this is going to sound crazy, but just in case Connor is haunting your house. He probably is a vengeful ghost and will kill me. I really have to go, okay. I’ll email you the script.” he practically ran out of your house. Connor popped up right in front of you as the door shut behind Jared, causing you to stagger back surprised.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?!” he fumed.

“No! What the hell to you, Connor!” you matched his anger. “Don’t do that shit when I have people over. Jared thinks you’re haunting the house now.”

“Well, aren’t I?” he hissed, “I can’t believe you lied to me. God, literally I told you to talk to anyone but him. But not only are you his friend, you’re inviting him over to your goddamn house. Are you trying to fuck him or something. That fucking virgin probably itching you to fuck him.” Connor was completely out of hand.

“What the actual hell, Connor. What’s your fucking problem!

“Jared! Jared fucking Kleinman is my fucking problem, (Y/N)!”

“Well he’s gone, thanks for that by the way! Just an FYI, I’d never even hug Jared if my life depended on it, let alone try and have sex with him. So, drop it!”

“Then what was he doing here.”

“A project! A stupid MacBeth one.”

“You told me you were working on that with Alana?”

Shit

You story fell through. “Shit… I… You know I couldn’t have told you.”

“Why are you working with him then?”

“Because he was the only one left in the class. Are you done interrogating me? Because now i have to worry about how to tell people my house isn’t being haunted by some freak.” You froze, your hands covering your mouth as if you could shove that last word back in, pretending you never said it.

“Go fuck yourself.” He screamed his voice cracking. You couldn’t believe you let that word leave your mouth. Especially directing it at Connor. You fucked up.

You didn’t see Connor for a full week. You tried apologizing, knowing he had to be around somewhere. He was. He always was. He’d watch you at all times. He’d watch you sit and watch TV, eat dinner with your family, watch you sleep, and write in your journal. You always felt his presence, the air always felt a little colder when he was around.

You couldn’t stand not talking to him.

The following Friday came. You looked at your friends pictures online. Then, you looked at the people from your new school pictures. And then you looked in the mirror. Coming face to face with yourself. All alone. Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so alone, it started to ache. Even your parents were out doing things.

You started talking out loud. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean that. I was… I don’t even know why I said it. I don’t believe that at all. I miss talking to you. You’re the only friend I have here and I miss you so goddamn much. I’m an idiot for saying that and I should never talk again because I always screw up and I’m the worst and I’m sorry I’m the person who moved into this house because I’m just like the people at our school. I belong there, I suppose. Even though I’m an outcast, a fucking loser. I am the freak Connor.”

“I guess we are both freaks then.” he appeared next to you on your bed. How didn’t you notice the weight before.

Tears burst out, and you cried loud. “I’m so sorry. You’re not a freak.” Connor brought you into a hug. You were shocked at first, his cold exterior touching you. You slowly put your arms around him. Not wanting to go through him.

You didn’t.

You were hugging him. Touching him.

“Connor?” you muffled into his chest.

“Mhm?” his face was buried in your hair.

“How am I touching you?”

“I think I’m letting you. I don’t really know. I don’t have a ghost manual.”

“That would’ve been handy.” the two of you chuckle lightly. But yours came out really weird because you were still crying. He squeezed you tighter.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I read your diary…” you disconnect from him, staring into his eyes, bewildered.

“You did what?”

He continued. “While you were at school today. I was going through your room. And I found your black book, noticed there was writing in it. And I kind of read it all.”

“You… read… all of it?” You weren’t even mad. What you felt was worse, you were mortified.

“We never talk about your problems. I don’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way… So alone.”

You were beyond mortified. You couldn’t believe he read the entirety of your diary. “Oh god….”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not gonna tell anyone. um… I mean I can’t. You’re the only person I talk to. Because I’m dead-”

“I get it, Connor.” you squeezed the bridge of your nose, not wanting to look at him. You wrote about everything in there.

“You don’t want to… you know. Um. Commit suicide.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes. He looked so worried and sad. “Because, coming from me, it’s not at all worth it. Um, it didn’t solve anything. I almost wish I didn’t fucking do it. All I had to do was wait another year. Go to college. Pay for my own therapy. I could’ve done it. I was just so…. lost… and alone…. I couldn’t see a future. But you’re really great. You’re amazing. You’re like the best person I’ve ever met. And I wish I would’ve known you when I was alive. Maybe…. just maybe…” he quickly shut his mouth, knowing if he finished his sentence, he’d break. He turned away, knowing the tears that were welling up in his eyes were about to fall. You grabbed his hand, silently reassuring that it was okay to cry. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. You both just laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, innocently holding hands.

Both of you felt a sense of belonging for the first time in a while.

You shot up from sleeping the next morning, Connor’s body gone.

He read your diary. Fuck. You wrote about that one kid Tyler at your old school. That weird, awkward, awful sexual encounter with Tyler. Oh, my god. You’re humiliated.

He didn’t bring it up all weekend though - thank god - hopefully he never would. But then school came around Monday.

“Hey, um, (Y/N)?” a voice questioned you from behind Turning around, your eyes met Zoe Murphy’s. Shit. “I’m Zoe… er Murphy.”

“Yeah, um. I remember you. From the house sale, that is.” you stammered. Why was she talking to you.

“Oh, cool. Um, are you eating with anyone at lunch today? Because, I wanted to see if you wanted to sit with my friends and I? I’m just super confused on what we are doing in here and you seem to be the only one in class who actually knows what’s going on. And I’m trying to get in Juilliard, and I need to show them I’m not only good at playing in the Jazz band, but also at astrophysics. But if you’re busy, or sitting with other people, I totally understand.”

You shifted in your seat. You weren’t busy or sitting with others. But you didn’t want to sound pathetic. “I’m behind on some work-”

“Oh…” she looked incredibly sad. Like almost Connor-level sad. “That’s fine. Sorry, it was probably really weird for me to ask you like that-”

“No! N-no no no. It’s fine. Actually, I can sit with you! I’m not that behind.”

She smiled slightly, almost so subtly; you’d miss it if you blink. “Awesome! I sit at the first table by the window near the gym. Or, um, I could meet you-”

“Nope, I’ll just come to the table.”

“Sweet.” she nodded her head. “Um, I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… Um, for sure.” you said with weak excitement. Zoe waved and walked in the opposite direction.

What does she want now? People just don’t invite others to randomly sit with them. . Especially not the girl who moved into your old house who hangs out with your dead brother. Unless of course if you’re Alana and you wanted something out of it. Did Zoe want something more than a lesson in astrophysics from you?

The first half of the day dragged on, you not really being there entirely because your thoughts kept drifting off to Zoe, or Connor, or Jared, Alana, or even Evan. Didn’t Jared say something about Evan dating Zoe, and Connor said something about a mean note from Evan. Nothing made sense. You weren’t just a step behind, you were a full mile.

Lunch finally came, and you found Zoe right away. She was watching the door for you to come. There were a few of her friends at the table. They all smiled and said hi when you sat down. You caught none of their names. Zoe forced a conversation out of you. She kind of reminded you of your old friends: nice, pretty, talkative, cool without trying. You told her that. She smiled bigger, almost more subtly. In the middle of your explanation of spectroscopy, she interrupted you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing after school?”

Hanging out with your dead brother. You decided to go with: “Um, nothing I can think of.” instead.

“Cool. Um, do you wanna maybe hang out after? Um, we can get coffee? If you uh, like coffee.” she asked, you couldn’t help but to think it was a trap.

“I do, I do. But I have to get the car back for my mom in time for her to go to work-”

“I could pick you up. I mean, I know where you live.” she tried chuckling.

You didn’t know how to get out of this one. And a small part of you yearned for any type of friendship between the living. “Uh… are you sure? I could ask if my mom could just drop me off?”

Zoe reassured you, “No! No, it’s fine. It’s not out of the way.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna go right after school?”

“Do you actually just wanna follow me to my, er, the house?” you felt weird using personal pronouns when it previously belonged to her. She nodded, not bothered by it though.

You regretted it as soon as you made the official plan. This was gonna be weird.

This was weird.

Zoe followed behind, even though she knew the way better, she probably knew the back roads. You parked the car in the driveway, and quickly got in hers. She was staring at the house, looking at Connor’s room window.

“I live in that one.” Pointing at her old room, knowing it was hers, to distract her from Connor.

“That was mine!” She says excited. “The closet’s really nice.”

You forced out a laugh, sounding real enough. “I know! I love it. Most of my clothes are still in boxes because I’m just too lazy to put them all away.”

“No way! Me too. More than half of them are still in tubs on my floor. My mom is so annoyed by it. She’ll probably hang them up soon if I don’t.”

“My mom would never do that. She’s been in my room once. Maybe twice. She doesn’t really care what I do.” Zoe frowns at this. “N-not like she doesn’t care about me or anything. Just like what I do. I have more freedom than I know what to do with?”

“Oh… That’s actually really cool. Do you want to come to a party on Friday then?” Zoe blurted out, feeling like she had been too forward.  

“Um…” you hadn’t been to a party since your old town. What were these parties like. How do you dress? How do you act here?

“You could come over to my house, er, new house and get ready with me and the girls.” she made it sound appealing. This was a chance to meet friends.

“Yeah. Um, I’ll think about it.” Or this was a chance for everyone to find you weird. You were caught in the middle of your two-sided thoughts.

“Cool.” she stated pulling into the coffee shop. “I go here all the time. They have really good Matcha Tea. I’m not a huge coffee or tea person, but Matchas really good.”

The two of you went in, ordered (both getting Matcha, Zoe was right, it was really good), and sat down. It was odd at first. It felt like an awkward blind date that neither party wanted to be there. But after a while, you warmed up. You told her all about your old town, school, and friends. She told you about your new town, your school, and her friends.

“What are parties like here, anyway?” you gushed. “I’ve only been to parties where I know everyone. We play pong, drink, couples hookup in bathrooms, and then everyone talks about it at school the following Monday on who won at pong, who got blackout, and who had sex.”

She laughed wholeheartedly, “It’s basically the same. But we play flip cup.”

“Shit, I don’t know the rules for that.”

“Don’t worry. It’s easier than pong. Just watch what the people do before you.”

You both laugh, having genuine fun. She didn’t ask anything from you. Or use you for her advantage.

Something was off.

But you left it alone. She drove you home. It was around 8. You knew you had to work on some homework before bed, even through her protests. She told you to keep sitting with her at lunch, if you wanted to. You agreed.

You walked into your house smiling.

“Why was Zoe’s car in front of the house?”

Connor asked, scaring you half to death the minute you entered your room.

“God. You need to stop just popping up. You’re going to give me a heart-attack.”

“What? So you wanna hang out with her now? Are you sick of me? Did she tell you things about me. All the terrible things I did to her? Did you talk about me? No, that’d be ridiculous. She’d think you were crazy.”

There Connor went off again, rambling out his anxieties. “Slow down, Connor. We didn’t talk about you at all. You didn’t even come up.”

“Of course I didn’t, why would she talk about me. She’s probably glad I’m gone.

“That’s not true at all. The day… The Anniversary. She was crying in school. And she just looks sad all the time.” his face fell with even more grief. “Not like… ‘All the time’, like just when she thinks about you.”

“I thought you guys didn’t talk about me.”

“We didn’t. Sometimes you can just tell.”

“She wants something, (Y/N).”

“Like what. If she did, she would’ve asked today, not asked if I wanted to sit with her at lunch or go to this stupid party on Friday.”

“You’re going to a party? Who’s house?”

“Maybe… and I don’t know? I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Don’t. Nothing ever good happens at party.”

“Are you, like, a party expert?” you ridiculed.

“Shut up. I’ve heard what happens.”

“I’m headstrong, Murphy. Now get out, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you change before…” he said nonchalantly.

You turned red, “What!?” you hissed.

“I thought you knew I was there. You just walked in and threw off your shirt and pants.”

“Oh my god.” you held your head in your hands.

“ I tried to leave, but i still have to open doors to get to places. A common misconception about ghosts by the way. Or I just haven’t figured it out yet…” he didn’t realize your embarrassment, continuing to ramble.

You cut him off, “You’ve seen me naked?” you exclaimed.

“No! Just bra and underwear! Not full on. Not like Tyler.”

“Tyler?” you asked confused, then it hit you. “Oh my god!” You run to your bed, burrowing your face from all the humiliation. “Get out, you perv!” You shouted, throwing a pillow through him. “Wait how can things go through you if you can’t go through them?”

“Exactly what you said. Things can go through me, but I can’t go through them. Or at least I haven’t figured it out.”

You didn’t actual care at that moment, your distress taking over of all other worries. “Oh my god. Just get out.” you groaned, huffing into a body pillow.

He laughed as he closed the door, letting you get changed. “Lemme know when you’re done.”

You wait a minute, making sure you can’t sense him in your room. He may have been lying about the whole he couldn’t go through things. That’s when you decided. You were definitely only going to change  in your closet from now on.

Friday came. Sitting with Zoe at lunch was a lot of fun. She never brought up Connor or the house. I mean, why would she bring Connor up to you? To her knowledge, you don’t know him. You went home and immediately started getting ready for the party.

“Are you really going to that stupid fucking thing.” Connor groaned.

“Yes.” you mumbled, doing your hair in your mirror.

“Wouldn’t you rather hang out with me.” he huffed, lying on your bed, reading something.

“We hang out every day.” You looked over at him, realizing your diary was in his hands. “S-stop reading that.” you turned red, getting up and tackling him, trying to get it out of his hands. He held his one arm out, using the other to gently stop you. Your whole body was basically straddling him. Then, he turned red. Well, as much color as a ghost could get. You finally retrieved it, not noticing his bashfulness. “Ha!” you announced. Closing the book and putting in back on your bookshelf.

Connor just fell back on your bed, just staring at you. He never noticed how your hair framed your face, or how your eyes got all sparkling when you were happy, or how the corners or your mouth would twitch up when you blushed, revealing subtle dimples.

“What are you looking at. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” you joked, laughing at it yourself.

“Stay here. With me.” he asked vulnerable.

You paused, his tone throwing you off. You shook it off. “Come on, Con. You know I gotta go out and seem social. People are gonna start to think that I’m staying home all the time to hang out with my only friend, who’s a ghost.” You’d never called him Con before. He liked it.

“Not a chance people are going to start thinking that…” he smiled, finding that scenario completely ridiculous. And finding you completely perfect.

“I’ll be home tomorrow! All day, and we can play video games or watch movies downstairs when my parents leave.”

“Why do that tomorrow? When you could do that tonight?” Connor kept trying. You walked over to him, giving him the ever so lightest peck on his forehead. His stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. He got that saying now.

“Tomorrow, Connor. I promise.” A beep came out from outside. “That’s your sister. I gotta go. How do I look?”

“Perfect.” he said glumly, but he meant it fully.

“I’m serious, Connor.”

“Me too…” you looked at him funny. “Go, she’s going to honk again. She’s the most impatient person ever.”

“Okay, okay.” you stood before the mirror, brushing your hair in the front, then to the back, then to the front again. Letting out a big, nervous sigh, then heading toward the door. “Bye-bye Murphy. Don’t have too much fun without me!” you called out, your door slamming shut behind you. Connor looked out the window. He meet eyes with Zoe, who was staring straight at her old room window, making what seemed like eye-contact with him. He basically ducked to the floor.

Once you got in the car, Zoe seemed panicked. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you good.”

She quickly faked a smile, “Yeah! No, I’m good! We gotta pick up the rest of the girls.” Something was up with her.

The night sped by. You got the girls, went back to Zoe’s, touched up hair and makeup, and went to the party. It was actually only like three blocks away from your house. You were all immediately handed shots as soon as you guys walked through the door. And then a red solo cup of beer. And then a mixed drink. This house party was a lot bigger than the ones back home. You had to drink more to feel comfortable, and you sort of blacked out. Coming in and out of consciousness. At one point you were playing flip cup (and dominating), then you were doing a beer bong with Zoe (the girl somehow beat you there, not coming across as the drinking type), then you ended up in a bathroom. On a counter. With your legs and arms around some guy. Who was making out with you. What the heck were you doing.

“Connor?” You drunkenly said.

“No, er, Jared.” that sobered you up. You shoved him off, crossing your arms.

“Oh, my God. No.” you wiped off your mouth. “Hell, no. What the fuck Jared?”

“You started making out with me first. Why the hell did you just call me Connor.” Shit. Why did you call him Connor. You jumped off the counter and stormed out of the room. Someone grabbed you by the shoulder.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you.” Zoe slurred. You tried focusing on her face, but it was spinning.

“Listen, Zoe. I gotta go home.” you said back, definitely slurring your words too.

“No! You can’t!”

“Yeah, I gotta the other girls are here. You’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. I need to ask you about Conmor.” She mispronounced his name, somehow slurring an M into it.

“What do you mean. I didn’t know him Zoe.” you said nervously

“No. You do. Jared told Alana that you said you see things. And there was a bang in your house and you pretended it was a cat. But you’ve never talked about a cat before. It was like you were trying to cover up. And you kept asking questions.”

“No. No it’s not like that. I just see the posters every day.”

“I saw him, (Y/N)! And you just remind me of him. Like, not like you’re mean but like, I don’t know, your humor. Like, you say things Connor would from time to time. And sometimes, I swear you smell like him. It’s like you talk to him. And I saw him, (y/n), in your room.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. You were in deep shit. Everyone is going to think of you as a fucking ghost whisperer. You had to fix it.

You started laughing, cackling.

“Zoe. Are you serious right now? Are you that drunk? We gotta find you a bed. God, you’re a treat. I haven’t laughed this hard since my old town. Wow.” you pretended to wipe a tear from your eye, humming out the last bit of fake laughs. “I’ll see you Monday.” You turned around and your smirk fell. You had to get out of there. You stumbled down the stairs. Looking for where you came in. Why does being drunk make you lose motor control and your sense of direction?

You somehow made it out and you were walking back home, tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t even realized you made it inside until you had to throw up. You bolted upstairs, going to bathroom and letting all the different kinds of alcohol up from your stomach into the toilet bowl

“(Y/N)?” You rose your head up. Shit, was that your dad.

“Occupied, Dad.” you called out, feeling like that didn’t sound drunk at all. It sounded very drunk.

“Let me in, it’s Connor. Your parents aren’t here.”

“No. I’m gross right now.” you whined out. You were too drunk to talk to him. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Who the fuck am I going to tell. The dead bugs in your window?”

“I don’t care about who you tell. I’m scared of what you’ll think of me.” There was a pause. “Connor?”

“Let me in, (Y/N).” he said so gently and nice, that itself almost made you blush. You crawl over to the door, using the knob to pick you up and then unlock it, not even realizing you locked it in the first place. Connor opened it slowly, peeking his head in as if we didn’t want to startle you. You leaned against the wall, pointing a finger at him.

“I drank a lot.” you confessed, trying to smile and act not as drunk as you were.

“Yeah, I can smell it. Are you ok-” you interrupt his sentence by running to the toilet. He followed behind, holding your hair behind you. He saw that in a movie once. He patted your back, which made you smile into the toilet.

“Isn’t it gross that we put our face so close to the toilet when we puke.” you joked, which did derive a laugh about of him.

“You’re drunk, (Y/N).”

“I know.” you lean your head against the toilet set. “Will you help me up? I wanna brush my teeth and gargle.” Connor complied, helping you up by the waist and leading you over to the sink. You got your blue tooth brush and started brushing.

“Uh, (Y/N)… You forgot the toothpaste.” he shyly told you. You started to laugh.

“Oh yeah, can you help?” he picked up the toothpaste for you and squeezed (a lot) on. Round two: you started brushing again. Making a lot of toothpaste foam. Connor just laughed. Looking at you in the mirror, only slightly annoyed he couldn’t see himself. Even like this, with all that shit dripping out of your mouth, you still looked pretty to him. He wondered what he looked like. It this state he’s in. He noticed he still had the scars on his wrists. He couldn’t help but wonder about his neck. He couldn’t help to think it’d be unfair for him to be able to look at you all the time and you had to look at the mess he was.

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Connor.”

“Mhm?”

“Stop staring at me. You’re making me self-conscious.” you blushed madly in the mirror. He looked away, allowing you to spit all the toothpaste out of your mouth. You slowly turned the water on, missing the handle the first try, and rinsed you mouth off. You took the Listerine and just started drinking it. Connor quickly took it away from you. You gargles the rest of what you had in your mouth as Connor reached for the cup. You almost spit all over his arm, if he wasn’t able to let stuff go through him.

“I’m glad you a ghost in that instance. Because that would’ve sucked.” He noted you said instance, but didn’t say anything. He walked you to your room, “How many people can say there dead best friend helps their drunk selves out. Zero. I win!” you giggled.

Connor rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be hung over tomorrow.”

“Nooooo…” you retort, as if you were a child.

He sniggered, “We aren’t going to be able to play games or watch movies. Guess I’m going to have to read your diary again.”

“Connor! Anything but that. I’ll stay awake. The less drunk I am when I go to sleep, the less hung over I’ll be. Science.” you told him, realizing the two of you were on your bed.

“No, you should go to sleep. The longer you sleep, the less hung over you’ll be. That’s Science.”

“But I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

“And why’s that.”

“Because I want to talk to you more.”

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“No.” You rise up, your face getting close to Connors. “I wanna talk now.” you whisper.

“A-about.” Connor stammered out. You were so close to him. He’d never been this close to anyone.

“Everything…” you close the distance, placing your lips on his. He’d never kissed anyone before. He never thought he would when he was dead. He kissed back for a split second, until he remembered.

He was dead. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let you kiss a fucking dead person. He was probably cold and disgusting. He broke the kiss.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked, creating unwanted distance between the two of you.

“Why did you do that.” Connor hissed, getting up and pacing.

“I don’t know. I’m- I’m sorry. I’m drunk.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Connor jumped up and stomped out the door, disappearing mid-shut.

You were mortified. Your thoughts raced, thinking of everything that happened, until you passed out from all the alcohol.