macchiato | blake yumi

6. ahem, master pancake

all isaac can hear is sobbing. yumi's home after a trip to the salon- why the fuck would that fucker want to cut his hair?

"guys. i'm not crazy right? you guys can hear sobbing too?!!?!" isaac blerts out, looking around to identify the source.

it's not long until everybody else is looking too, agreeing as they open the fridge doors, mash their faces against the cupboards and floorboards.

"i bet it's melvin. that fucker." larry stomps his foot on the floor continuously. but wait. hold on a second. "where's mimu?!" blake asks, now able to have the vision of a 10 year old thanks to his freshly cut hair.

he came home way later than he was meant to- and although he'd never admit it, that was the cause of crying over his hair in the car. "no. it's okay. it looks fine like this!"

"oh no. yumi. i think it's-" tanner soon identifies the sound of you crying, and yumi is gone with the speed of light up the stairs. "MIMUUUUU!!!???? are you okay?"

bursting through the door with his big feet and tall figure, your room is somehow effortlessly lighter. your eyes slowly adjust as does his.

your pink themed spongebob sheets now soaked with tears— maybe you had grown a little bit of an attachment to his hair.

"why did you cut your hair, blake?!" you mumble out, voice croaky with salt and water. he chokes back his giggle at the sight of you against pink, hair decorating your face.

"i'm sorry! but come on! how on earth was i gonna get a hot babe?!??!!?? it was literally the hair of a shaggy dog. i cannot live with it mimu!"

you push yourself up, nodding your head. "i get it. you just looked really pretty. and what hot babe. yumi. what the fu-"

he plops himself down on your bed, patting your head as you now cross your legs, facing him. "oh. you know. someone that has a five letter nickname?"

"my nickname is four letters, dickhead."

he face palms, agreeing with your statement. you absorb the way he looks, admiring how his freckles now stand out even more.

it's not long before the entirety of your friend group are on your head. fresh sheets too!?

"here we go. here is the entirety of the zoo. on your bed mimu. fresh sheets too?!? my poor mimu." yumi whispers, securing his place next to you before the stampede.

my mimu?! you could get used to that. you'd like it plastered on the walls of your head.

isaac takes the seat next to you, leaning against the headboard much like you and your bestfriend. the others filled up the space of the bottom half.

isaac pats your head too, " you're going to film with nick and everybody else tomorrow right, yummers?"

blake nods in response to isaac— and for some reason you have to double look everytime he's in the corner of your eye to be sure that it's your best friend that's conversing with your others.

laughter and singing fills the room for a few hours until only you and larry remain.

"mimu, we went to the aquarium. zoo. safari. whatever the fuck it's called. i got you a capybara t-shirt!!!" larry grins, passing it to you.

you jump on larry, engulfing them in a hug "thank you!!!! I LOVE IT!" "you're welcome mimu. i'll accept one diary for it! and don't you dare rip it up the same way yumi did with his."

you freeze. what diary is the least interesting? the least obvious of your undying love for the boy who hate sloth t-shirts.

"sure. pink or white, larry?" you ask, using the bed as support as you scout out the big plastic box full of diaries under your bed.