y'all deserve so much tbh like So Much hardships r hard & life can be shit but there’s so much good shit out there n y'all deserve it all u rly do. u aren’t gross, u aren’t wrong or bad or wicked or sinful & screw anyone that tries to describe queer love, queer sex, queer existence that way. they aren’t worth shit if they can’t see us. we are defined by the ppl we love: can u imagine anything better than that?? we are defined by love n i think that’s amazing. it doesn’t help much against hurt but idk sometimes it’s overwhelming, how singular we are how lovely. bc we exist: we continue, we persist, we exist n it’s radical it’s political it’s illegal sometimes to exist n to love. u deserve everything, my queer pals, n i love u & someday it’ll get gentle n easy n soft, it’ll be sweetness without a trace of shame, without a hint of it: it’ll be holding hands in public n the taste of love out in the sun, without fear, n it’ll be homes n families n love n laughter n joy that we know, everything bright n good n kind, n that’s a future im ready for
The sun was warming my back as I sat in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. It was noisy, people were rushing in and out drinks in hand. I had plugged my earphones in and tried to concentrate on my work the steady beat of my music in my ears relaxing me. I typed on my computer and downed black coffee as I worked on the new project Jinyoung and I had been assigned. Since the success of the party we organized for Seunguri we had had a lot of work to do and we didn’t want to disappoint our boss. Our promotion was great and neither of us was complaining but the pressure was heavy, thank goodness we were sharing out the work with each other to get through it. Jinyoung always had a smile and was very down to earth which helped since I usually got carried away with my ideas that bubbled up inside my twisted mind. I came here to focus on work and work only. When I was at home I spent too much time thinking about Jungkook. There were too many reminders of him. Some things I could put away somewhere out of my sight but others I couldn’t. The walls were my worst enemy. We had painted them together when I moved in. Each time I looked up at them I remembered his face and hair covered in paint and his pretty smile and sparkling eyes looking down at me. That day I had had a hard time stopping myself from kissing him. I took a break from work for five minutes sipping on my burning hot coffee as I saw a couple of students enter giggling. It was a tall young man and a shorter girl both in their school uniforms. They went to buy some drinks and a snack and headed out their face smothered with the biggest grins I had ever seen. They reminded me of Jungkook and I when we were younger. I smiled to myself as I thought about the day we first met.
damn it nyt… i actually know offhand the best picture for 1962 and tried so hard to make the answer fit before i realized they actually wanted the best picture for 1963. who is editing this shit anyway, get it together will shortz
what I think realistically: really loves when phineas and/or ferb console her and invite her to join in their big ideas but she feels too proud to act like its as important to her as it is
what I think is fucking hilarious: tumblr addict where she constantly gets into discourse over minor things
what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends: loves her mom but she rlly hates the way her mom calls her crazy and all, and worries she loves her brothers more than her and that shes just a burden on the family, which is partially why she tries so hard to be responsible
what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway: in poly w stacy and jeremy and has a crush on vanessa
the no bullshit guide to getting your shit together: for the lazy student
Let’s be honest: time management and organization? They’re really hard. Sure, at first you might feel like you’ve gotten the hang of them, that you’re in control of your life. But how often have you fallen off the wagon? Procrastinated on one thing and the next moment, you’re behind in all your classes? I know that sometimes laziness feels like a part of who you are, but honestly, fuck that. Do you really want to give up your success for the disinterest of a moment?
If your answer is no (it better be no, or you really need to get your priorities straight), let’s get to it.
STEP ONE: BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF
“This class doesn’t even matter.” “I don’t care about my grades.” “I can finish this the day before.” Sound familiar? You might feel great now, but when you’re staring down at your report card later, it’ll feel like you just got punched.
This is a cliche, but the greatest obstacle to your success is yourself - especially the lies you tell yourself! Sit yourself down and be honest about what you need to improve on. Be as blunt as you can, but for god’s sake, don’t throw yourself a pity party! There’s no use agonizing over what you can’t change. Instead, set realistic, achievable goals, and make a game plan. Struggling with math? Go to extra help. Behind in all your classes? Stay in for a couple nights and actually work.
STEP TWO: STOP WITH THE FANCY SHIT
Now you know what your goals are, but maybe you want some inspiration, so you log on to tumblr and are instantly bombarded by all these beautiful, well lit shots of the most gorgeous bullet journals, planners, and notes. Impressive, right? Well, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: they’re all useless! A simple phone planner works just as well, if not better, than a fancy agenda, because you’ll always have it on you, it’s not a hassle to carry around, and you don’t feel obligated to make it look pretty.
Riddle me this, where are you going to find all this extra motivation to keep prettying up your bullet journal? To write all your notes in perfect, colour coded printing? There aren’t many times in life where taking the easy was out will actually benefit you, so take advantage! Stop wasting your time; get a phone planner and write your notes in your natural goddamn handwriting.
STEP THREE: CLEAN YOUR ROOM
Yep, your entire room - not just your study space! This one can be put on the back burner for a bit if you’re on a really pressing deadline, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m notoriously messy, and if I don’t watch myself, I’d find myself in dirty-laundry-and-old-notes hell. A little bit of organized chaos is fine, I even encourage it! But try working when your desk is covered in mounds of paper and you have nowhere to put your laptop – it’s just not conducive to success.
Keeping your entire room clean is a way to stave off stress, frustration, and even embarrassment, because nobody wants to show potential roommates how much of a mess they are.
STEP FOUR: ACTUALLY WORK
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: “actually work? Who does this girl think she is?” I’d probably think the same thing, except I’ve learned the valuable lesson of sucking it the hell up, and you will too. When you get home from work, grab a snack and work. When you have a free period, figure out what’s due and work. Stop reasoning yourself out of work: you’re not going to finish this later, and that will be on the test. There’s really not much to say about this one, because it’s the step that requires the most raw effort, and you’re really only going to find that within yourself. Tell yourself what’s at stake, and realize that, by setting the standard for your mediocrity now, you’re potentially trapping yourself in a cycle that will last for years.
STEP FIVE: CUT YOURSELF SOME SLACK
Maybe you’ve been on top of your shit for a day, a week, or even a month, and that’s really great. But then… you fail. You miss a deadline or you bomb a test. So what do you do now? Do you allow yourself to fall back into your old habits? Fuck no! Everyone fails, even that studyblr with those perfect bullet journal photos and a perpetually clean study space. I’m going to tell you something that’ll sound really strange: you should value your failures, especially if you worked hard to avoid them. What?! Be HAPPY about failing when I actually TRIED? Yeah, you heard me right. If you don’t know how to handle failure, then when you inevitably experience it, your reaction will be much worse.
Failing hurts, and boy, I know how embarrassing it can be. But learning how to deal with failure, and especially how to keep trying after it happens, is an invaluable lesson.
STEP SIX: TREAT. YO. SELF.
Disclaimer: I’m not suggesting you treat yourself after the most basic of tasks, because please. Treat yourself when you know you goddamn well deserve it. Remember that “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” If all you do is study and do your homework, then, pardon my french, your life sucks. If you don’t have friends, play a video game! Eat an entire jumbo chocolate bar! Indulge in whatever the fuck you want, you deserve it. I’m someone that has trouble prioritizing future benefits over immediate gratification, so by allowing myself little pleasures, I save myself from crashing and burning.
Hope these tips helped, but remember to take them with a grain of salt - you’re you and I’m me, and different things work for different people. Good luck!
You know what I’m tired of? Soulmate AUs with the protagonist/antagonist ship as the main pairing that always has the villain who reacts the best to the situation, and the hero freaking out.
What I want to see is a hero who gets it, who understands that yeah, their soulmate may kind of be a murdering psychopath, but that’s cool, they can deal with that, they can live through it, but what’s not cool is them totally looking the other way and avoiding the hell out of them.
Give me the realisation that they’re soulmates in the middle of a fight, when they’re bloody and bruised and tired and they just slip, skin on skin contact, and then the whole world just shifts into place.
“This can’t be happening.”
“Have you every heard of opposites attract?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“But- Okay, yeah, we’re doing this.”
Give me a brutal fight that ends with a “Since when do my attacks hurt this much?” and the villain slowly realising that they can’t kill themselves out of this situation, that they can’t escape this because they’re soul bonded to a kid with a hero complex who is constantly trying to thwart them and is now for some reason grinning at them like a lunatic because they supposedly belong together. And damn does suddenly being able to feel emotions and pain that wasn’t his sting, because he has enough shit to deal with on his own without the added pressure, thanks.
Give me snarky comments and miniature fights in the middle of the night when the hero catches the antagonist coming back from who knows where, bloody and in pain and maybe a little too bust up, to say they won the fight.
“You usually look happier to see me.”
“You killed someone this morning.”
“What gave it away?”
“You mean besides the fact that you’re covered in blood and I felt every moment of it?”
Give me the villain slowly getting used to the idea that hey, they’re sort of going to have to put up with this little ray of sunshine for a while even though he kind of hates his guts and wants to kill him, but also give me the villain wondering what they ever did to deserve this. What could they possibly have done that was so great, so obscenely terrifyingly amazing that they could be soul bonded to a person like this, someone so innocent and righteous and downright beautiful that half of it seems like a mad dream?
“Not every bad guy has a tragic past.”
“But you do. I’ve seen it.”
“I’m going to punch you.”
“That would be counterproductive to what we’re doing here.”
“That hurt you as much as it hurt me.”
Give me tempers flaring and bristling arguments and the hero getting so tired, but still carrying on, not because they think that there’s some good in the antagonist or because they think they can change them, but because this is their soulmate, the person that the fates chose for him, his other half, someone that he had to protect and look after and love, because if not him, then who else was going to?
“I am going to hurt you. I’m going to rip out your intestines and strangle you with them.”
“You’ve been pretty good today. That’s three less death threats than yesterday.”
“Prepare to have your balls removed with a butcher’s knife and shoved down your throat, asshole.”
“I’m still counting this as progress.”
Give me the antagonist not realising the reality that this isn’t someone who wants something from him, who wants to change him, use him, abuse him, but rather someone who just wants to be with him, love him. Give me an antagonist who can’t understand the concept that somebody might actually care.
“I thought this was what you wanted! The sex, the cuddling, the stupid hand-holding. What more could you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Yes you do. They always do! Just tell me what you want and you can have it. Just leave me alone, please. I can’t take this anymore.”
“I want you to trust me, to believe me when I say that I love you.”
“You’re only saying that because of the bond.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve seen everything that you have, felt what you feel, heard what you’ve heard. Maybe at first, a little, it was just because of the bond, but then I fell in love with you, the real you, the one behind all the fronts that you put up.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I didn’t expect you too, but you will, one day. I’m not giving up on you.”
Give me the hero facing shit from their friends and family, because they don’t understand why they’re trying so hard and putting up with so much shit, even though he’s his soulmate, but the hero just shrugging and smiling because they get it, and it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t.
“He threatens to brutally mutilate you constantly.”
“I like to believe it’s how he expresses his affections.”
“He tried to kill you so many times.”
“There was only the once after we found out about the bond, though.”
“You’re making excuses now.”
“It’s just that there’s so much anger in him, all of the time. I don’t know how anyone could live like that. I want to help him.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“That’s not my biggest concern anymore. He is.”
Give me a hero who tries so, so hard, and a villain who, despite everything, slowly gives in. Give me quiet nights laid in bed or watching the stars, no words and only their hands touching, just the sensation of palm against palm enough. Give me heated arguments, rage, unsteady headiness at the realisation that they’re not going to leave each other, no matter what happens.
Give me a soulmate AU where the hero doesn’t react badly, isn’t scared or hateful that their soulmate is their arch nemesis, the big bad guy, the villain they can never seem to get rid of, because really they should have expected that all along. Because no one hates that much without there being a little something more behind it.
Thoughts on 13 Reasons Why characters and a rating of how much I dislike them from 1 being “my baby!!!!” to 10 being “FUCK THEM THEY CAN ROT”
Hannah Baker: Didn’t deserve everything she went through especially rape. She pushed some people away though and sometimes she was kind of idk how to word it but I didn’t like stuff about her at times. Either way she deserved so much better than what she got. Deserved to be happy with Clay. 2/10.
Clay Jensen: Will fight anyone for Hannah. He was so shy around her and didn’t know what to do whenever he was with her, he’s so precious. Sometimes there were some things he did that didn’t sit right with me but he definitely deserved a happy ending with Hannah Baker; they deserved to be happy and in love and ugh. Also… took like 4823707592 years to listen to the tapes? 2/10.
Tony Padilla: Gay POC which I love because we need more of them. I love him he was so patient with Clay and all he ever did was try and protect Hannah’s wishes. Glad he shared the tapes with Hannah’s parents because they deserved to know why she killed herself instead of being left in the dust wondering why. I was always so happy when he came on screen. CLAY LISTEN TO THE GODDAMN TAPES. 1/10.
Jeff Atkins: My pure cinnamon roll, didn’t deserve to die because of a stupid girl who couldn’t own up to her mistakes. I hate how nobody including his parents and except Clay never knew he wasn’t drunk that night he died. Just wanted Clay and Hannah together. Your fave is problematic: uses “unique” 7 times in an essay. -5435973495797/10. I love him forever, hes so great. Never did anything bad.
Justin Foley: Didn’t deserve the home life he had BUT i really hated him for what he did to Hannah and the fact that he’s a rape enabler and a rape apologist like he literally let his best friend rape his unconscious girlfriend, covered up for him, and lied to her about it and then when she found out, he STILL was justifying what he and Bryce did by telling her that he didn’t tell anyone because Bryce does all this shit for him. KNEW that whatever happened at that party was fucking Jessica up but didn’t come forward until the very end. Claims he cared for her but you don’t do that shit to someone you claim you care about. Fuck him for that. 8/10.
Jessica Davis: She was so cool and nice in the beginning but then I hated how she got mad at Hannah and slapped her for the list instead of Alex, like really??? You think she asked to be on that list?? PLEASE. But after all that, she was still nice towards her and was never ill-mannered when it came to Hannah. Also, can we talk about how she didn’t deserve to be raped??? Justin Foley DEFINITELY didn’t deserve her. YOU GO GIRL. TELL HIM YOU NEVER WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN. 5/10.
Alex Standall: He made some poor decisions making that list for a stupid reason and then letting Hannah pay the price. I somewhat like him though. I think he was a redeemable character and had a conscience (although it was too late, rip Hannah Baker) and felt that he needed to own up to it and tell the truth, was ready for whatever penalty he was gonna get. Was the only one (for a while) who thought what the others were trying to do was stupid. He definitely deserved better too, he didn’t deserve to shoot himself (or in other theories, didn’t deserve to be shot by Tyler). Please be okay…please be alive, baby. 4/10.
Courtney Crimsen:GIRL, BYE. I hate and will always hate her character so much. Her and Bryce should just rot. She was a rape apologist and only cared about herself. Like girl I get that coming out is hard, I haven’t even done it, but to fuck up Hannah’s life like that? Are you serious? Justified Bryce’s actions to hide her truth. And she fucked up Jessica’s life too, in my opinion. She tried so hard to convince herself (and others) that Hannah was lying, Bryce isn’t a rapist, and that Jessica was never raped just so she can stay in the fucking closet. Like there’s nothing wrong with being gay. And she has two gay dads for fucks sake. 10/10 would always hate her again.
Zach Dempsey: I think he genuinely liked Hannah but after all the shit Hannah had been through and the fact that his friends were his friends, I definitely see Hannah’s side of why she shot him down. I think he, himself, was lonely too but in different way; just because someone’s popular doesn’t mean they’re not lonely. Didn’t get compliments so he stole Hanah’s when she needed it most (I hate how he did that ugh like WHY…did you really need it?). Redeemable character, though. Also…HE KEPT HANNAH’S NOTE IN HIS WALLET!!! 5/10.
Tyler Down: Fuck him. A fucking creep. Like, he stalked people and took pictures of them when they were unaware (especially Hannah) and when she confronted him, HE FUCKING SENT THE PICTURE TO EVERYONE. Claims he “loved” Hannah but really?? FUCK HIM. Why did he even have so much guns? I’m pretty sure he’s planning a school shooting…fucking psychopath…”I can take care of myself” BOY BYE. And if he did shoot Alex, FUCK HIM EVEN MORE. 9/10.
Ryan Shaver: Didn’t respect Hannah’s wishes. Only cared about himself and poetry. Didn’t even care that Hannah didn’t want her shit to get out. I only liked him whenever he said Bryce is a rapist and that Courtney should just shut the fuck up and stop justifying Bryce’s actions. 8/10.
Marcus Cole: He cared more about himself and his reputation more than anyone. Thought he was the shit. Sexually assaulted Hannah then called her easy for refusing. 9/10.
Sheri: I liked her and she was genuinely nice but she crashed the stop sign and left a drunken Hannah at the scene and fled. Caused Jeff to die and I hate her for it. Though she reported it because she knew it was the right thing to do, it was already waaay too late. 6/10 because of Jeff.
Bryce: Rapist. Douchebag. Scum of the earth. He didn’t even think what he did was wrong. He raped two fucking girls and didn’t even feel remorse. He just thought every girl wanted him and that was that. I hate him so much, he can die. 102804802020x100000/10.
Mr. Porter: Could have tried better to stop Hannah from killing herself. She was set on suicide until she had doubts and needed just one person to help her and the one person she came to didn’t care enough to chase after her when she left his room that day. Worst. Guidance Counselor. Ever. 8/10.
shit, so i’ve been in love with thirteen reasons why recently. it’s got me hooked. zach dempsey has been one of my crushes on the show, so here’s one based on this prompt. i’d love taking suggestions! ring me up if you have any ideas- or, better yet, drop by my ask if you want me to make any more for you.
prompt: “i like you a lot, so i tried getting you jealous,” ft. zachary dempsey
“Ah shit, Y/N,” Jess Davis groans as she wiggles into the tight row of cushioned chairs, trying to make her way to the middle of the line next to you. You giggle as the popcorn spills all around her clenched hand and into the laps of everyone nearby. There are whimpers of “Sorry, sorry!” and grunts before she finally lands into the cushioned chair next to you and sighs. “Ah Jesus, I didn’t know that would be so hard.”
"Maybe you should lay off the gummy worms,” You put in, and laugh as she glares at you and hits your arm. Your hand digs in the popcorn and you stuff a handful into your mouth, the satisfying crunch as you chew making you moan. Ah, popcorn. Jess rips open a pack of the gummies and snorts at you. “Maybe save those noises for Dempsey, hon.”
You choke on a kernel as she purses her lips trying not to laugh, her eyes steadying on the previews onscreen. A few snickers make it out either way, and you scowl at her and stuff more handfuls in your mouth.
Zach Dempsey and you, to put it lightly, were not friends. It was difficult to push you into a room together and not expect a night of sour jabs and endless bickering. Everyone at school knew it, and it was something that happened way before you were even freshmen. There was never a time you weren’t at each other’s throats. One time, he’d spilled liquor down the front of your dress at some party and you’d hidden his pants in a bush while he was in the hot tub later that night. Lately it’d been more of a joke between your friends, with Jessica mockingly swooning how romantic you two would be.
The lights start to dim and you wiggle back into your seat, ready for some good old romcom- and then the Paramount clip cuts into black for a moment, making you groan and try to dodge whoever was blocking your view. You crane your entire body and glare daggers at the idiot who interrupted your film before it even started. You loved your movies, and you were pretty serious about getting the “full movie theatre experience” (which Jess liked to mock). Please, you were paying a good four dollars for a movie you could watch for free online. Your eyes rise up to the back of his head, taking in a mess of straight black hair, broad shoulders and the school’s infamous Letterman jacket hanging on them. You memorized the back of that head. You knew those shoulders.
It was Zach Dempsey. With him were Jason Friar and Justin Foley, all wearing their Lettermans. You felt Jess shift in her seat at the sight of them. Wrapped in Zach’s arm was a smaller girl, snuggled into his shirt and playing with his fingers around her neck. They scooched into the seats almost directly in front of you, with the girl turning her head suddenly and getting the tips of her ponytail in Zach’s mouth. He swats it away, annoyed, but smiles instantly when she turns her head to look at him.
“Oh no,” You moan, making Jess snicker at you. You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to Foley and turn away. “Just what I needed.”
"Who’s the girl?” Jess wonders, squinting. “Not a cheerleader. That’s Jenny, I think. Or her friend Bryana. I can’t be sure. We have Com with them.”
"Ugh, who cares,” You roll your eyes and try to turn to the movie. As long as they don’t ruin your film. This was some good stuff showing- if you focused enough, maybe you could ignore them. Jess shrugs and follows suit. You take a sip of your cherry cola as Martin Freeman jogs up into the scene.
The movie drifts by, but you find that you don’t enjoy it as much as you would have. Your eyes keep landing on the back of Dempsey’s head- and as much as you hated it, his arm around the girl’s. Your popcorn started tasting sour. You focus on some surfer guy’s abs an hour in but your mind keeps drifting somewhere else. Suddenly, before you can even blink, Zach cranes his neck slowly and looks directly at you, as if he knew you were there the entire time. He catches you looking and his cheeks tinge pink as he whips back around. Jess snickers. “That’s like, the fourth time he’s done that.”
"What?” You blink. Wouldn’t you have noticed? Jess takes a slurp of her drink. “Yeah, didn’t you notice? I mean, he’s had like two bathroom breaks. Both times he’d looked right at you before he took his seat.”
You decide not to say anything and reach out for a gummy worm. You keep watch, but Zach never craned his head again.
The movie ends before you know it, and Jess is a mess. You can’t stop laughing at her state, and after a while she laughs with you and dabs at her tears with paper napkins, but her mascara’s everywhere. “Shit, Y/N, why aren’t you crying with me?” She scowls, and starts hicupping. You try to hide your smile. You find it best not to tell her that you were staring at other things than the movie.
The lights flick back on and the people file out. You grab your empty popcorn buckets and leave, but not before Jess excuses herself to the comfort room to freshen up. You drop the buckets in the trash can near the snacks counter in the lobby and wait for her, waving a hand at Hannah Baker, who was filling up drinks at the soda fountain. Your hand travels to your back pocket and realize your phone is missing, so you run back into the cinema’s swinging doors hoping not to find it lodged in between seats with a wad of chewed up gum.
You find something even more tramautizing. Sitting on Zach Dempsey’s lap was his date, clutching his face with her pale hands and making out with him. He’s fidgeting in his seat, but trying to keep still. You note that his hands are on the cup holders and not on her waist. Your face screws up and you groan in disgust, picking your phone up from floor. “Christ, Dempsey, get a room.”
Zach’s eyes widen and he scrambles up, pushing the girl out of his lap. “Yeah? Well, this was an empty room ‘til you showed up, Y/N.”
You snort, tucking your phone into your back pocket. “You’re a pig, Dempsey.” There are mumbles of "Ooh”’s from Foley as you stalk back to the entrance, where Jess was waiting for you, ready for some milkshakes at Rosie’s. You loop your arm in hers, failing to hear the “Shit, man,” and swears from inside the theatre.
You head into school next Monday with a great start, munching on your bagel as you make it to your locker. You’re wearing an oversized hoodie and high waisted jeans, but it doesn’t stop the jocks from whistling when you pass by. You roll your eyes at them and chew on your bagel as you turn the corner. High school boys were too immature. No wonder you never found the want to date one.
Passing by you in the hallway was Zach Dempsey, crowded with his band of loud friends who are laughing and pushing each other. You meet his eye and he stops, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and look away, and you can almost hear him sigh in defeat. Someone slaps him on the shoulder and whistles as you walk by. “Daaamn, Dempsey, you gotta let us share.” You don’t see him shove the guy and stalk off.
The first half of the day passes by like a breeze. By the time fourth period ends, you barely feel like the day has started. You head out for the cafeteria, stacking all your books in your arms and making it through the door, but it wasn’t long before you could hear footsteps running after you. “Hey, wait up, Y/N!”
You turn around and groan, continuing to walk. “Dempsey.” You try not to glance as he jogs up next to you and ruffles his hair, staring at you with this half grin of his you didn’t want to admit you liked.
“Uh, hey.” “Something you need?”
“No, uh, actually, I wanted to talk to you.” He looks at you sheepishly.
“Um, you look nice today,” He offers, biting his cheek. You stop, staring at him in disgust. “What?” He trails. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me.” You shake your head in disbelief and keep walking.
“What’s wrong?” He keeps up. “Seriously, Dempsey, are you hitting on me now?” “And why would that be so terrible?”
“Geez, Dempsey, what is wrong with you?” You deadpan. “You are such an ass, you know that? Do you always treat girls like shit?” You gape at his blank face. “Jenny. From last Saturday. You think it’s OK to throw girls around like that?”
“What? No! I- uh, Jenny and I aren’t serious, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winces, scratching his neck.
“Yeah, right. Of course not.”
“Look, can I take you out this weekend? To Rosie’s maybe? I’ve wanted to maybe get to be with you out of school. We could go to the movies?” You’re at the cafeteria doors now, but Zach shuts them with his left arm, blocking the way in front of you. You snort. “You can’t be serious.” You watch as his face falls and his mouth twitches.
“What’s so bad about going out with me?”
“God, you are such a jerk, Zach!” You groan, throwing your free hand in exasperation. He winces at the sound of his name being used so hatefully- he’s only ever heard you say Dempsey. He tries to forget about all the times he’s dreamed of his name coming out of your mouth, but decides he hates it when you yell it at him. “You think it’s fun, don’t you? Having no respect for girls whatsoever. You get off buttering them up with kisses and flowers and take them to the movies only to ignore them completely a day or two later. Who, in their right mind, would ever want to go out with someone like you?”
“I only ever wanted to go to that fucking movie theatre because I heard you were going to be there!” His voice rises to a shout. It echoed through the halls, and you wince knowing someone would hear. “You think I wanted to watch that stupid chick flick, with all that shit about high heels and prom? Fuck, I never even liked Jen! Why would I when I’ve always wanted someone else?”
His breath was heavy. Suddenly it was hard to swallow. You try to stand your ground, staring at him. “Nice one. You think it’d be easy for me to believe that, what with your list of conquests and a new girl making out on your desk each week? You must be daft, Zach Dempsey.”
He scowls. “I never wanted them. Never. I just- I just thought that maybe if you saw that everyone wanted me, just maybe you would have wanted me too.” His face softens, and he starts fiddling with his fingers. “Okay, I get it. You could never want me. I know, I just thought I could change that somehow. I’m used to getting my way, you know. Girls flock me, throw themselves at me. I’m used to getting everything I want, but then you’re here, in front of me, and fuck, I’ve never wanted to kiss anything more in my life.”
“Okay,” You say softly, before you can stop yourself. He barely hears it, but his ears perk up. “What’d you say?”
“I said okay,” You clear your throat, and bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling as his lips form into a helpless grin. “Saturday night, Rosie’s?” “Fuck yes!” He fistbumps the air, then stops as soon as he realises you’re still in front of him. You giggle and hide your face in your hands as he leans forward without thinking, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air. You couldn’t help your cheeks from turning red. Zach Dempsey was adorable. He really was.
“Okay, I’ll see you in Trig?” He asks, palming his phone in his front pocket. He’d have to tell Foley, he was thinking. Man, his best friend would be so proud. His head was rushing when he swooped in and pressed his lips to your flushed cheek. “I can’t wait.”
thanks for sticking around! give this a heart and reblog if you want more, and follow my blog if you want to be notified overtime i post a new imagine! this is a brand new blog and i’m so excited to see what ideas you might have for me.
always has a rubber band for his hair on his right wrist
got a muggle tattoo gun secondhand and enchanted it so he could make his tattoos move (see: a moon that changes shape according to the current phase)
people thought he was dating james for years - so much so that they were surprised when he was actually confirmed to be dating remus
likes stealing his boyfriend’s sweaters
braids lily’s hair and lets lily braid his
didn’t cut his hair at all over his first year at hogwarts; when he came back home over the summer (to get clothes before going to stay with the potters) his mom told him to cut it and his response was to never cut it again
wanted to start a band called ‘the marauders’
gives kisses to everyone when leaving a room, especially peter, because it makes him slightly uncomfortable
gives everyone matching marauders tattoos on their left shoulders
has asked both dumbledore and mcgonagall on dates
mcgonagall: get out of here and stop being ridiculous black
dumbledore: ah sirius i’ve already promised my heart to one james potter
paints his nails and got detention for flipping someone off after they told him it was ‘a girl thing’
has a reputation as a heartbreaker for some reason, when he’s never dated anyone
they seem to think he ‘leads them on’ when he’s been hung up on remus since their third year
used to scare frank longbottom, still doesn’t know why
hung a poster of a muggle girl for the following reasons
the fact that she was a muggle would piss off his parents
he knew they’d get even more pissed if he hung a poster of a muggle boy, but he wasn’t ready to tell them he was gay
has convinced his friends to go to muggle music festivals during the summer more then once, during which has gotten both flowers braided into his hair and into several fights
wants to kiss remus so badly sometimes his hands shake and his heart aches
nothing happens until remus has a particularly bad transformation and they’re sitting in the shrieking shack after he’s back to his human form and peter and james have gone to the kitchens to get food to bring back and he has his arm around remus’ shoulders and remus is leaning into him wrapped in a blanket and suddenly he looks up and sees sirius looking at him with an expression that looks like it belongs on the face of someone in a fucking nicholas sparks movie and he grabs sirius by the chin and kisses him hard and sirius is so shocked he doesn’t respond at all for half a second then he sighs into remus’ mouth and they make out for a solid fifteen minutes until james and peter come back with the food and they just hear from the door ‘jesus christ, i was worried they wouldn’t do it this year’ ‘shit, wormy, i owe you ten galleons’
obsesses over his best man duties when james asks him
feels both proud and slightly guilty that the other boys aren’t in the same position as him so he tries not to gloat
tries to get james to use sleekeazy’s hair potion at his wedding, fails
does lily’s hair and calm’s james’ nerves and ties remus’ tie and gets the dirt stain out of peter’s pants from where he fell thirty minutes before the ceremony
makes a killer fuckin speech with absolutely no editing or censorship and gets scandalized looks from family members but cheers from their hogwarts friends
loves his friends so so much and is willing to die for them
knows things are probably about to go to shit because they could all die any day now but for now relishes in the best day they’ve had and probably will have for a while
So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.
To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.
First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.
And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD. Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.
First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.
Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse
victim.There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were
threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the
right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent
him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is
very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her
insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of
taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him
lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how
he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister,
written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed
suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his
sister and actually cared about her.
Connor’s mom, Cynthia
Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with
reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than
anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental
illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was
there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She
pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it
because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went,
“welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom
might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s
ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s
mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s
forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s
what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal
Connor’s dad, Larry
Connor’s dad might be one of the main
sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad
believed him to be a disappointment.He didn’t grieve for his dead
son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the
whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was
fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t
friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need
to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went
to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy
family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had
some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this,
though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I
think that sums it up.
Connor was a complicated person. He had
many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he
probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it
already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not
have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him,
the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly
unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably
hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that
could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling
himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is
something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot
of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his
family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The
problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the
potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say
sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted
to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.
This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.
Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.
Not sure if you've made posts about it before (sorry if you have!), but could you elaborate more on the alphas not 'getting' each others' main flaws? I'm really curious since I haven't heard their relationships described like that before.
Sure, let me try to articulate what I mean here.
Basically, the alphas as a group all love each other SO MUCH, which is awesome, they’re this closeknit squad and they’re all so important to each other and their relationships all make me feel enormous sprawling feelings, but the sheer AMOUNT they all love each other sort of blinds them to some of their own needs. They all want to think the very best of each other, and the occasional thoughts they have about each other that aren’t like 100% positive get immediately suppressed and marinated in guilt juice and they try not to acknowledge it and go back to focusing on the good instead.
So they’re all kind of bottling things up about each other, right? But it doesn’t come from any malicious place, it comes from a place of wanting to be the best they can be because they care about everyone else’s opinion so much but also knowing they aren’t always their best selves – and knowing their friends aren’t always their best selves – but if THEY know their friends sometimes are shitty, that means everyone else might know that THEY are sometimes shitty, too.
They’re all trying so hard to downplay the bad and upjump the good, which is MUCH MUCH easier to do with online relationships.
You throw them into physical proximity and suddenly those annoyances you all tried so hard to pretend didn’t bug you that bad and never talked about because talking about unpleasant things is, well, unpleasant, start to boil over. Put that on top of the stressful circumstances that led to several relationships starting the session OFF more strained than usual, and wow. They had no fucking chance.
I love the alphas so much – they got shit on by a lot of the fandom because their plotline was so internal and cerebral, but that is the kind of shit I LOVE. The betas were all friends, but they never felt like ONE GROUP to me. The full four way group dynamic never crystallized. We always found them interacting one on one and rarely ABOUT one another, because the betas’ conflicts were more or less external. The betas’ story up to Collide was them vs the environment, the game, doc scratch, sburb, the horrorterrors. The alphas’ story is so much about THEM. Their relationships. Them as a group. Their interpersonal issues and foibles and there’s this element of nitty gritty real HUMAN-ness to their struggles that isn’t super present with most of the betas who feel like more fantastical figures that struggle against equally fantastical antagonists. (The betas KIND OF segue into something like this post-Collide, but it’s not expounded upon as much, they’re split into different groups, and also a lot of it got retconned - Jade and John had some interesting moments on the boat but that stuff was probably the biggest victim of the retcon.)
Here’s an example of what I mean to wrap it up:
Jane and Roxy are best friends, they love each other deeply, you can tell from their every interaction that they care tremendously about each other’s opinion of them, but. Roxy has a drinking problem. This (I think) clearly makes Jane uncomfortable sometimes, but Jane suppresses it and pushes it down because she wants to think the best of Roxy, she minimizes the issue. No one ever confronts Roxy about this very serious problem she has in any real or effective way (not just Jane, NO ONE does this) because they all want to think the best of her and oh… haha….. it’s just a little foible… just a quirk…. it’s cool…. not a big deal …. I’m sure roxy has her life under control no big deal!!
Basically EVERY alpha relationship has something like this going on. Everyone downplays how much the AR bugs them because hey I’m sure Dirk has things under control he probably does this on purpose god Dirk you’re so silly jeez Dirk we’d really like to talk to you instead of your fucking hell robot sometimes but oh well I’m sure Dirk knows what he’s doing ho hum let’s all downplay how much this actually bothers us because we want to think the best of Dirk and can’t imagine him ever creating a situation he genuinely cannot deal with or control because well gosh he’s just so capable!
Everyone downplays how selfish Jake can be because oh well Jake is just silly he’s so nice he doesn’t MEAN to be this way I mean it’s JAKE how could Jake English ever do something as vaguely malicious as take advantage of how he KNOWS Jane never really says what she’s thinking if that thing is hard to say and use that to his advantage to give him a perfectly reasonable out on having to tell her he isn’t interested in a romantic relationship with her and then, KNOWING she actually did have a huge crush on him, constantly inundate her with his issues with his boyfriend for months thereafter. Surely Jake could never be that manipulative he’s so nice!! (NOTE: I love Jake English, specifically BECAUSE of things like this, I honestly would not like him if he were actually the way fanon paints him all the time, some weak cinnamon roll that can do no wrong.)
etc etc etc
This is why I love the alphas! They are a group of fucked up teenagers who are all struggling so fucking bad but all need their friends to believe everything is ok, and who need to believe their friends are ok, who want so bad for each other to be happy that they sabotage themselves both individually and as a group in misguided attempts to pretend at and manufacture that happiness without actually doing the hard work of fixing the underlying issues preventing them from TRULY achieving it.
(The one issue, as with most things in Homestuck that I have issues with, is that we are not shown the resolution to these arcs and struggles in canon, boooooooooooooooooooooo)
request - BTS reaction to Her Nuzzling Her Face into Their Crotch While Asleep
a/n - thank you so much for 100 followers it means a lot !! don’t forget to request a reaction if you’d like !! :D
kim seokjin- is the one to try to shake you awake, lowkey panicking and going like (((＞＜))), but you’d only mutter something and furrow your eyebrows, having him roll his eyes and giving in, going back to running a hand through your hair
‘jagiya! are you serious!’
min yoongi- doesn’t notice until he feels pressure pressing onto his crotch and goes like (•ิ_•ิ)? since he didn’t see you when he turned around. he looked down when he heard you say something in your sleep, going like ┐(‘～`;)┌ since it didn’t hurt him and continued working on a new song
*laughs* ‘of course’
jung hoseok- the one to go ‘oop!’ like when jungkook smacked his a$$ when he felt you tuck your head into his lap and nuzzle into his crotch. he lowkey froze and went like (╥﹏╥) since he knew he wouldn’t be able to move for a good 20 minutes, but couldn’t help but laugh since you were literally on his dick
‘jagi, i cant move T.T’
kim namjoon - smirks to himself like the lil shit he is, goes like (//▽//) since he can’t believe what’s happening. probably mutters ‘babygirl, get up’ but you highkey go like ┐( ˘_˘ )┌ and continue sleeping like it’s nothing while he just chuckles and goes back to working yo can i just say i love namjoon
‘ya, jagi’ *chuckles* ‘you’re something else’
park jimin - blushes so hard that he literally looks like a tomato, going like (つω`*) and not knowing what to do at all. tries to get up, but his heart can’t help but melt while he hears you mutter his name, his heart going like (ノ*°▽°*)
‘aish, what am i going to do with you?’
kim taehyung - gasps so loud that he wakes you up, his reaction being σ(≧ε≦σ) and highkey thinking it’s so funny, but his heart melts once he sees just how tired and sleepy you are, letting you sleep even if it’s in his crotch omg im laughing
‘YAAAA !! YOU DID NOT !!
jeon jungkook- literally is like tt and becomes ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ). only gets worse when you nuzzle into his crotch and make yourself comfortable LMAO, absolutely freezing in his spot and going like (⊙_⊙) ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ) (//▽//) at the same time
Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.
Word count: 7,132
No 1: the coffee maker
incident (which was all harrison’s fault)
The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already
swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter
closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through
his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.
“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing
things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your
answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track
mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs
that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.
“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what
you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to
slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more,
taking in the features of Tom’s place.
You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many
colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows
against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go
catalog. None of it looks like him,
and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow
the sound of two voices into his kitchen.
“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with
stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing
in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On
his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.
There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to
tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s
right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but
something akin, you could imagine.
“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top
and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at
the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face
and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”
“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally
sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify.
“It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water
and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make
Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong.
You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise
unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button
again, just to be certain.
The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to
blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was
pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light
blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.
“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It
curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head.
Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few
months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you
remembered it being much shorter.
“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s
going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling
heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now
understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.
“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new
one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he
took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”
“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going
to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice
shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you
chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch,
walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the
world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved
heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the
island as you examined the coffee maker.
You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment
for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides,
and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.
“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your
phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.
“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between
you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom
of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with
“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher.
What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”
“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his
face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”
“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the
coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this
thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look
remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves
a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils
the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk
hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.
“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and
looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your
lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him
think you weren’t the person for the job.
Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed
look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off
his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered
you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.
“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring
daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room,
shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.
Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of
it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand
and asking for a knife.
He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it
into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a
Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You
snorted, wondering if he was actually
afraid of you with a knife.
“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You
joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was
just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a
sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into
the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both
bowed your heads with work to do.
This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom
would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your
lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a
bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze,
attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it
felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.
After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the
machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in,
waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.
Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure
enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with
his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.
He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of
rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just
nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell
yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than
construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.
“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds
like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All
you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee
maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.
“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem
if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I
feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone
rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it,
holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going
to stay anyways.
Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty
comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot
chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can
read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on,
Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”
That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic
thing. “For what?”
“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.”
There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out
a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.
The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile
regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door.
No. 2: The incident
where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong
You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the
best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day
after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I tookthis”
without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing
sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.
Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to
go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have
been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back,
revealing a brunette that was not
His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of
freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were
already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up
like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding
whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her
feet and scram.
It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom
caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly,
as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a
sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but
transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that
he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their
outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.
You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you
resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his
girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his
apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your
“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you
said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but
made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you
felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.
Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with
care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your
fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked
up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.
Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at
the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she
gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a
fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and
punch your teeth out.
The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your
fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull
your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of
grey porcelain scattering across the floor.
You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away
into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little,
resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She
tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when
it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs
his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.
Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken
aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a
small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and
polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.
She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over
her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out
into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut,
leaving the two of you in the hall.
“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs
the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might
have done this.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who
broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the
ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard,
with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need
for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and
it makes you so frustrated.
“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another
one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and
says “You don’t have to do that. Just go
on a date with me and we’re even.”
But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This
universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken
British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.
This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed
promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.
No. 3: the incident
where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)
It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable
and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The
lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights
above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably
warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.
And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad
mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from
Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the
type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde
It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of
building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being
crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up
for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a
comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend
After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty,
almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame
and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find
the two (or three, there was no way she
could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and
you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.
It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But
it felt exciting.
You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there
was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you
weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.
The pounding in your head increased when you heard with
clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake
your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door
with your fist.
“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite
your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and
head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were
losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide
grin upon seeing you at the door.
“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and
shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip
much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.
“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease,
but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man
cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them
Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony
ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god
you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man
Tom has something to tell you.”
The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first
grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who
didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved
“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against
theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that
followed proved otherwise.
After another round
of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without
full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men,
who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the
entire situation read badly.
“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn
his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took
a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re
having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“
“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment
of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to
“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a
pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”
“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long.
“We’ve met before.”
“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison
argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.
“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At
least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”
“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of
your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you
“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across
the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s
pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you
frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.
“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers
loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.
“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s
mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking
between the four of them before sighing.
“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll
just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of
the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf
below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling
had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no
mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a
little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.
“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other
“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell
“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since
the day we met’?”
It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys
started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your
hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process
the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you
thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as
you struggled to understand.
Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t
plan on telling you.
It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even
bigger than that was the idea that
each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment
seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked
anyone to silence.
Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles
seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him
that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a
friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never
meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.
In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared
mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice
universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.
But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always
happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and
letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.
Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream
No. 4: the incident
where the tables have turned
Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up
the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He
bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled
through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you,
dazed and confused.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of
Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he
was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes
light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward.
For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in
Maybe because you were the one seeing him.
Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to
which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own
apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He
was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed
Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted,
“Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”
It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy
that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his
face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by
his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot,
but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.
“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think
was ‘So her name was Alice.’
You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but
you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you
expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding
yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It
wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all
you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind
him that you were next door if he needed you.
In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time
“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom
joked, which you smiled at.
“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed,
bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it,
you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter
calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he
gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”
His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in
your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming
into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before,
and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually
become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the
couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed
like he belonged here, because he
didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had
going on here.
There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you
preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were
mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were
huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and
other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked
back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.
“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing
his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the
time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little
framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”
He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you
were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school
photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.
“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad
fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture.
You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was
taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were
squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera
with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl
in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional
“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as
cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than
cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure
why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you
gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed
wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.
“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in
a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each
one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.
“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated,
standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First
time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as
concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take
the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence,
before looking over to Tom.
His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his
eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only
snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake
the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.
“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful.
But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never
seen anything like that before.”
“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would
have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him,
heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to
“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled
under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down.
You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens
that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell
him yes; absolutely, positively,
one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage
right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was
sure to be a discount somewhere.
But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing
two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom
and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly
stepped towards you.
“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d
be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other
than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling
Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights.
Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes
bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two
back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to
others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would
There was a calm silence that settled in between the
conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with
reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or
else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s
voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before
nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.
“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there
anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s
here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in
an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You
smiled, before jumping up.
“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed
kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for
a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing
it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.
“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue
designed cup. “Is this for me?”
“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t
say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a
Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to
playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well,
hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.
He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest
of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing
on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown
eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things
about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them
“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That
was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,”
you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a
little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.
“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking
some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to
the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click
shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.
You stared around, wondering if you could find differences
in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly
correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved
in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some
other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.
No.5: the incident where
everything becomes clear
You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise
that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons
only you can understand.
Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up
and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an
exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.
“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the
accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion,
because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.
Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a
posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the
length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you
regained proper footing.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those
concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and
reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.
You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and
from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting
job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel
plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few
days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you
You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing
about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex.
And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow
throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes
scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that
probably cost less than her foundation.
Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing
grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the
grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.
You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t
that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why
she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you
could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor
The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else
there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In
the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why
he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the
more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.
So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping
over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of
Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it
shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him
He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was
caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to
you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside
his apartment on a daily basis.
His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his
nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to
the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles.
Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly
where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part
of you felt in place.
Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he
would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was
shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but
you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.
You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself
closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your
He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You
just did it, because? Just because you could?”
“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you
accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in
love with you too.”
Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping
mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in
the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused
to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.
“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face
turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head,
causing him to peek at you through his fingers.
“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d
never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from
his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”
“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile
gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”
“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just
like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on
your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing
his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though,
smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.
From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”