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i haven't even watched camp camp but damn that was good

ay thank :,)

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He Was Ten

A/N Have some angsty, happyish ending Camp Camp fic centered around how much I fucking hate Max’s parents. Read on AO3

Genre: angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 790

Warnings: child neglect, swearing

Summary:

Max’s parents had never really cared, but it takes him ten years to realise it. And boy, being ten is one hell of a ride.

Max was five years old when he tugged on his mother’s shirt, insisting she saw the finger painting he made when he was waved off with a “not now, Max.”

He looked at the illustration and figured that there was something wrong with it that made his mother so uninterested. Duh, he realised, it’s awful. He looked up at the other paintings around the house, the ones that appeared to be directly out of a magazine for a barely lived-in home, and saw that they were so much better. He could never compare to those – so he chucked his painting away and scrubbed the word “art” off his mind forever.

He was six when he dug up an old softball and asked his dad to play catch in the yard, only to be told that “there were more important things to do.”

Max had let the ball drop to the floor as he slinked back to his room, where he was slowly beginning to spend more and more time. Sport. Yeah right. The other boys his age loved to run around, but that was only because they were good at it. Max wasn’t. Therefore, he shouldn’t do it. That was just common sense. He threw his sporting equipment away the next day.

He was seven when he was given a science project to do and eagerly asked his parents to help him with it, but they waved him off.

He took the unfinished mess of paper, paint, vinegar and baking soda off the table so they could do their grown up work. The actually important stuff. This dumb little science project wasn’t going to help anyone, so why should Max even pretend to care? So, ignoring the disappointment in his heart, he stopped paying attention in class. Science was for losers, he decided.

He was eight when he received a magic trick set in the mail for his birthday and tried to put on a show – only for his parents to not even come out of their rooms.

Max sung himself happy birthday and set the box on fire, as he didn’t find any candles to light. The smoke alarm’s incessant ringing brought his parents rushing into the living room. They chastised him – obviously for even thinking about magic, right? – and sent him to his room without dinner. Whenever magic was brought up, Max was flung back to him curled under a blanket sobbing, while singing the saddest rendition of “Happy Birthday” anyone had ever heard.

He was nine when he decided to give up.

His parents didn’t even notice his lack of passion. All they cared about were his failing grades and poor behaviour reports – but hey, that meant they cared for him at least a little, right? So if acting awful was the only way to get their attention, then so be it! What could go wrong?

…Max was ten when they sent him off to summer camp without warning or a goodbye.

He was ten when he realised that his parents, whilst they didn’t hit him or call him names, had never really cared in the first place. He was ten when he saw that this wasn’t normal. He was ten when he knew that he wasn’t loved like every other kid.

He was ten when he met David.

David – David was different. He wasn’t like all the other sullen bastards in this world full of shit. He was positive and saw the best in people. Max wasn’t sure which was worse.

He also wasn’t sure why David tried so hard to pretend he gave a shit about every single camper who came through – because of course he didn’t, right? No one could possibly care that much, right? David was abnormal, surely. But no matter what Max did, David still smiled at him.

He couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stick around and be patronised like this. How dare this whiny pissbaby try to take pity on Max when it was obvious David, like everyone else, hated him too?! How dare he pretend to care so he can secure Max’s trust only to betray like every-fucking-one else?! How dare he-

Max was ten when he realised that his parents didn’t have to define him.

He was ten when David found out that they didn’t care, when Gwen looked at him not in anger but in sorrow, when they took him out for pizza (and oh god, his parents would never), when they sat him down and told him that it wasn’t normal, that he didn’t have to forgive his shitty parents, that he could be loved.

And he was ten and a half when he hugged David around the legs real quick and finally felt wanted.

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Beatsy Boys

A/N Jake is bi and I’ll fight anyone who tries to tell me otherwise. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, past Jake Peralta/Stevie Schillens

Genre: coming out, humour

Word Count: 2520

Warnings: mentions of a drug dealer

Summary:

The squad knows something is up between Stevie and Jake. They just don't know what. (Or where detectives aren't so great at detecting and Jake's very bi.)

When Holt entered the building that day, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Minutes later, he called his detectives into the briefing room. The whole squad groaned as he announced that another precinct was staying. He would be disappointed, but he had come to expect these sorts of things nowadays. Jake, naturally, rubbed it in everyone’s faces that he and Charles didn’t have to be there all week. The captain sighed, before informing them that no one enjoyed their antics.

Jake didn’t really care though, not that he ever listened to him anyway, because soon enough, Rosa spotted the arrival of the 98. The others flocked to the windows of the room to complain. They watched in disgust as the ‘idiots’ filed in, claiming their desks. Rosa looked as if she was about to kill someone when a random lady, who was currently pulling out multiple figurines, chose her desk.

Holt hoped that the newcomer had enough sense of self-perseverance to not attempt to talk to her. Jake joined in on the jibes directed towards the intruders, never one to miss out on an opportunity like this. That is, until he saw Stevie Schillens, aka the coolest partner he’s ever had and his first, as he gloated to everyone.

Jake immediately rushed out to greet his old friend, completely forgetting that he was just complaining about how terrible the new precinct will be. Captain Holt sighed, exiting the room with the others. Instead of following Jake like everyone else, he went to introduce himself to the captain, keeping a close eye on his squad. Just in case.

His childish employee was pleased that Stevie still remembered their ‘extremely awesome’ handshake that, according to them, they made up on their first day together. Stevie then joked about putting away all the bad guys in his old workplace, thus his transfer, and despite the obvious brag, Jake is quick to believe him. He turned around to see his friends watching the exchange and told them about his amazing friend very enthusiastically, using the codenames they came up with.

The captain knew that Jake was a sucked for nicknames, so it came as no surprise to him when he observed how ecstatic Jake appeared. He noted the way he listened intently to the guy, something he never did, mind you, and the way he couldn’t help but to smile. Something was off, yet Holt couldn’t figure it out.

Raymond made a mental not to question his favourite detective about it later, but he was distracted by the other captain asking to use his office.

-

Charles was jealous the second he saw Jake being all buddy-buddy with Stevie. What kind of name is Stevie?! (He would talk trash about them calling themselves the ‘Beatsy Boys’, but he loved the damn name too much.)

He wanted to shoot that son of a gun right then and there when Jake started talking about how cool it was finally being partners with the jerk again. Charles ended up not shooting Stevie and instead bragged about his own first partner on the force, which probably wasn’t very effective. (Boyle thought it was, so who really cares?) He also mentioned how only he and Jake were going out on a stakeout together, once again showing off their magnificent friendship and how they’re such good best friends with amazing inside jokes. (The latter is even more of a flop than the partner thing, but he reckoned he still got the point across.)

Stevie, apparently, didn’t get the memo, because he didn’t immediately back off, but talked about his stupid drug dealer guy that nobody cared about anyway. Charles was crushed when his friend insisted on that loser coming along too. Schillens probably didn’t even appreciate how close a stakeout could bring two people. He probably didn’t know what Jake was allergic too. He probably didn’t get Jake’s Die Hard references! Of course, Boyle didn’t get some of them either, but at least he let Jake have his “John McClane” moments.

However, he didn’t voice any of his arguments and soon enough, Stevie weaselled his way into their case.

(He knew something was up when Jake left him behind. Despite all his flaws, Jake had never forgotten Charles. He blamed it on Stevie and his obviously bad influence, and told anyone who will listen. No one did, but his point still stood.)

-

Terry and Rosa gained their suspicious when they saw Charles moping around at his desk with Paul. Rosa, all too eager to avoid Amy and her allergies, went over, followed by the Sargent.

“Where’s Jake?” Rosa demanded. She was worse with emotions than the guy in question, so she’d rather not deal with Boyle right now, but anything was better than nothing. “Thought you two were supposed to be working a case together.”

Charles looked up and sighed. “Off with Stevie Schillens,” he mocked. “They left a few minutes ago. I think they forgot me.”

Rosa rolled her eyes as he sighed again, this time more drawn out, pitiful and downright depressing. Terry was a little more forgiving.

“Look, Boyle, I know Jake is deeply flawed, but he’d never forget you,” he tried to console. Rosa nodded in agreement as a sign of support.

Charles only shrugged. “That’s what I thought too, but he just did! Stevie is a no-good cop, I’m telling you now! He’s put Jake under a spell and is stealing him from me!”

Rosa and Terry shared a look before leaving Boyle to mutter about how crappy Stevie was. They had their own things to worry about, and this didn’t involve them whatsoever. The ‘things’ in question included very annoying and thieving desk mates.

Later, however, they watched as Jake came in with both Stevie and Charles, having busted the dealer. They didn’t see anything odd with Jake’s enthusiasm, but they did question it a little when Charles took Jake aside.

They wondered about what they could possibly be talking about as Jake’s happy demeanour turned defensive and then visibly upset. What on earth was Boyle saying? They frowned when Jake stormed off to find Stevie and then led him to a small, private room that almost nobody went into and slammed the door behind them.

Terry and Rosa raised their eyebrows and speculated for a few moments, but they honestly had no clue on what Jake was doing.

(Their answer came minutes later in the form of both Jake and Charles chasing after Stevie whilst attempting to arrest him. They forgot about it entirely as the precinct turned into a massive fistfight.)

-

After the whole fiasco was over and the 98 finally left, the squad went to the bar to celebrate. Amy sat next to Jake, who had been staring into his glass for a while now.

“You okay?” she asked. She knew her boyfriend well enough by now to know when something was bothering him. “You did just arrest ‘Stevie Chillen Schillens’.” Her bad impression made Jake crack a smile, much to Amy’s relief. She didn’t know that she had been holding her breath until that moment.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, then sighed. “Still kind of bummed though.”

“I know you were psyched to bring back the Beatsy Boys. At least you didn’t have to spend all day sneezing,” she offered.

Jake grinned. “True that. Also, I suppose Stevie turning out to be a douche isn’t so bad.” Amy frowned and cocked her head, confused. “I mean, I can now impress people with my tragic past of my criminal ex-boyfriend. Hey, quick question, can we break up very quickly so I can brag to strangers?” Jake and Amy laughed. And then she let it sink in.

It was early enough that everyone was relatively close together and they hadn’t drifted off into separate corners yet, so they were all within hearing distance. They seemed to process the information at roughly the same time as Amy, because soon, people’s eyes were widening.

“What?!”

Jake startled at the outburst, apparently unaware that everyone was listening in. He glanced around and spotted his friends staring at him. He turned back to Amy, who looked just as shocked. It seemed as if he didn’t intend to say the ‘boyfriend’ bit.

He felt awkward with the sudden attention, so he tried to defuse the situation by using his amazingly quick wit. “Uh…”

Amy snapped out of her stupor. “So you’re bisexual?” She asked incredulously. She noticed Jake tense up at her words and scrambled to make amends. “It’s fine if you are, I just can’t believe I never figured it out! I am not a good detective.”

Those words came from when he found out Captain Holt was gay and they comfort Jake when he realised this. He relaxed and shot a grateful smile at Amy. “Yeah, I am. Sorry for never telling you guys, I was…” He trailed off. Despite coming out supposedly being a big moment, he was still very uncomfortable with any kind of emotion.

“There’s no need to apologise,” Holt jumped in, being the first to say anything. “I understand that this is a difficult thing to open up about, but I’m sure everyone on the squad is accepting of you.”

Everyone nodded. Suddenly, he felt like a weight he didn’t even know he had had been lifted off of his shoulders. Amy squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly. Jake had never felt any better.

“One thing I don’t get though,” she started and there it is, he thought, “why were you and him so happy to see each other if you broke up?”

Jake breathed out in relief, but covered it up. “That’s the one question I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, because now I can’t pretend I had a super messy breakup with him,” he joked. “We actually ended things on good terms. When we found out we were going to different precincts, we decided it was better to part ways. No hard feelings. And we were so happy to see each other because it’s not every day you meet another bisexual cop!” Rosa coughed and he grinned, but moved on. “Besides, you don’t really forget the first person who’s actually accepting of you…”

At the end of his explanation, he realised that everyone was still listening to him and he started to feel awkward. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how.

“By the way, you guys are like, the worst detectives ever.”

Everyone laughed, happy to accept it. Holt, however, held true to his reputation of hating being wrong. “Well, maybe you just were excellent at hiding it,” he pointed out.

Jake pulled a face. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure even your husband knew after I tried to hit on both your regular waitress and your art instructor.” He saw Amy’s and Holy’s confused expressions and realised how that sounded. “Just to be clear, this was before I began dating Amy and was also when I was trying to prove your terrible mood had nothing to do with me and then caused that fight between you and Kevin.”

They nodded in understanding and soon, everyone went back into their own conversations and withdrew into their usual antisocial behaviours.

Jake slumped back in his chair. “That went a lot better than I had planned. It was entirely different.”

“What did you think was going to happen?” His girlfriend asked.

“No clue, actually. My plans were generally me dying in some cool explosion and my exes showing up and sobbing over my coffin. Maybe I was hoping that people would be grieving too much to figure it out?” Jake chuckled and Amy shook her head, smiling.

“Seriously, though, I’m proud of you,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

“I know. Wait until I tell Gina she was right about your reactions tomorrow!”

Amy sprayed her cheap alcohol everywhere. “Gina knew?!”

-

The next day, everyone was paying close attention to Jake. Gina noticed this as soon as he stepped out of the elevator doors, eight minutes late. Everyone went silent, confusing her, because that was the usual for him! If anything, Jake was early by his standards. Maybe she woke up in a different universe…

Intrigued, she joined the Jake-watching club. He dumped his bag on his desk and Amy smiled at him. She also whispered something which made him look over to where Gina was. She watched Jake nod at Amy and then walk over to her.

“Hey, Gina. Before you find out from everyone else, I have something to tell you,” he said nonchalantly, much to the surprise of the others.

She looked around. Captain Holt was staring from inside his office at them intensely. Charles had asked some regular civilians at his desk to wait a moment as he too tuned in to them. Rosa shifted her chair ever-so-slightly so that she was angled in their direction and even Terry had paused in the middle of eating his yoghurt – and Terry loved yoghurt.

This served to make her curiouser. “I’m listening.” She even put down her phone.

“Right, so last night I may have accidentally came out to everyone,” he blurted before he could back out.

Gina’s jaw dropped open and everyone sucked in their breaths. “Girl, I’m so happy for you! B-T-Dubs, was I right about how incompetent they are?” She moved forward eagerly in her seat.

“I figured you would ask that, so,” Jake fished around in his pocket and pulled out five dollars he had asked Charles for that morning, “here you go. You were right! No one knew! Crazy, huh?”

The assistant took the money. “No, not really,” she dismissed. “You detectives are just really bad psychics. I, for one, figured it out before even you knew you were bi.”

Most people, apart from Amy, froze. Holt came out of his office and was the first to ask. “How did you figure it out?” It didn’t take a genius to know he was shocked. For starters, his posture was slightly slouched and his eyebrows were raised a millimetre more than they usually were.

Gina swivelled around in her chair. “Easy there, tiger. No straight guy is that obsessed with John McClane’s abs, John McClane’s move, John McClane’s movies, blah, blah. Plus, I doubt heterosexual men are openly jealous of John McClane’s love interests. Jake is basically in love with that guy. Also, Captain, considering I’m a better detective than anyone here, I’d like a badge and gun. Dismissed!”

“For the last time, you cannot dismiss people. We’ve been over this. Second of all, you are not getting a badge or a gun,” Holt sighed.

“Fine.” Gina rolled her eyes. “But just so I don’t feel bad later,” people scoffed at that, “I’d like to tell you that I rejected your offer to talk about guys earlier because Jakey here has way better eyes. Although, he’s stopped our little chats now that he’s dating Amy.”

Jake tried to say that he had never talked about boys with Gina before, but nobody let him deny any of it.

From there, things went back to normal.

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Truly a Heather

A/N First Heathers fic. Rip me. Read on ao3.

Pairing: Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer

Genre: angst, happy ending

Word Count: 910

Warnings: referenced suicide, referenced suicide attempt

Summary:

Her story is not one for fairy tale books. Her story is not one of happy beginnings, sweet songs and romantic conclusions. But her story is hers, and no one can take it away from Heather McNamara. (Or the musical told in little tidbits of Heather’s perspective.)

Sure, her story starts out innocent enough. If you call the yellow-clad girl living up to her expectations of putting people in their place, pushing others around and getting dirty with only the best of the best. McNamara does what Chandler tells her to do, and that is that. That was the way things had always been – except, no, no it wasn’t.

Heather McNamara will never admit this to anyone, but at night, she can’t help but think of the better times. She was sure they all thought about their kindergarten days, and sometimes that gave her comfort. Most of the time, she just felt more alone.

She remembers holding hands with other girls and other boys as they danced around singing nursery rhymes, and not one of them flinched in disgust when they stood next to a geek or nerd or loser. Not one of them threw around insults like gay, pansy, freak, slut, and not a single one of them was excluded. Heather remembers wishing it could stay like that forever, but if she’s learnt anything by now, it’s that dreams aren’t meant to come true.

Graduating kindergarten, they all hooked pinkies and promised forever. By summer, they had all forgotten their friends. Then summer fell away and they fell into a natural hierarchy and thus began the hate. Heathers at the top, followed by Kurts and Rams, and then at the very bottom, Marthas.

Heather Duke isn’t the same Heather who played with Veronica and Martha in the sandpit. Ram Sweeney isn’t the same Ram who kissed Martha… But Heather McNamara is still the same Heather McNamara. She still follows around Chandler, still cares too much and still thinks that Martha Dunnstock’s and Veronica Sawyer’s friendship is something she desperately wants. So when Veronica joins the Heathers, McNamara doesn’t complain, she isn’t mean and she sympathises with Veronica. In secret.

She knows she isn’t smart, but she does know that Veronica doesn’t deserve to be in this group. She actually has a future. If Veronica joins them, she’ll get her years of glory but then… there’ll be nothing else to her. Heather McNamara had accepted this ages ago, when someone called her a bully for the very first time. When the other Heathers found out, they helped her plunge their head in the toilet. She had tried to protest, but she was forced to do it anyway. The teachers caught them and lost any respect they still had for her.

That was the past. Now, Heather McNamara spends the party acting dumber than usual. Everyone loves this – so she lives up to the part. She teases the guys and pretends that she enjoys the leers and trailing eyes. She’s the yellow one to everyone – nothing more, nothing less. She’s one-dimensional. Her traits are as follows: positive, dumb, easy. That’s who she is. And McNamara believes that for a long time.

And then her best friend dies. Of course, she doesn’t know that Heather was murdered. She’s under the impression that one of her only comrades in this world didn’t think anything or anyone here was worth it. So her insides shrivel up even more, and her happy exterior slowly crumbles. She allows herself to be mean, and doesn’t hesitate (much) when she’s forced to invite Veronica over to the cemetery. Heather McNamara finally lives up to her role.

She’s a Heather. And Heathers don’t have room for Veronicas. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it must remain. (It’s not because she doesn’t want the blue girl to get corrupted further. It’s not because she’s filled with guilt every time she sees Veronica. It’s not because thinking about her getting hurt is the worst thing to plague her mind. It’s not. Because Heathers aren’t good people. Because Heathers don’t have the capacity to feel sympathy.)

When Kurt and Ram turn up dead too, Heather McNamara can feel her carefully constructed facade crumbling. It’s not a good feeling. Nothing is anymore. She sees Veronica suffering too. She takes comfort in this – not that she wants her friend Veronica to hurt, but because it means someone else realises how horrible this is. Someone else feels sick when they think about all this. Someone else actually feels something. Heather Duke has become unrecognisable – popular, meaner and confident. She doesn’t care about Chandler or their “boy toys”. Heather McNamara is starting to think she never did.

She finds the apparent solution at the assembly. She accidentally opens up and tells them about how much pain she’s in constantly… and people laugh. They jeer her off the stage and into the pill bottle. And then. Veronica stops her. Veronica helps her. Veronica, despite everything she has done to her, cares.

And when Martha Dunnstock takes a dive stand against it all, it opens her eyes.

Heather doesn’t have to be a Heather. She can change her mind at any moment. She can stop this madness and attempt to be a good person. Of course, her insecurities tell her that she’ll never be that, no matter how hard she tries, but…

In the end, Veronica takes her hand, leads her home with Martha, and they laugh. Not in the cruel way. Not at someone else. They laugh because they’re alive. And then because Veronica kisses her cheek, and later her lips, and Martha promises not to tell a soul.

Maybe this is what it’s like to be seventeen. Properly and truly seventeen.