#okay sorry for writing a tag essay bye

[only-lonely-www]

Got some new colored ink pens today, and of course there’s only one way to test them out!!

[queen-of-hawkins-why-ler]

RIP queen-of-hawkins-bye-ler blog after one day (I was a dumbass and signed up with my university email lmaoooo)

Okay LAST time I am clogging the tag with my bullshit I stg I am so sorry y'all 😭💀 I signed up for my new second acc after I got shadowbanned with my university email bc I just wasn't thinking and quickly realized that that's probably a terrible idea bc holy shit don't want university admin people to see emails relating to my blog on which I write master thesis essays on Mike Wheeler being a homosexual 💀💀💀 for my mutuals wanting to follow me this is my new actual ACTUAL new account LMAO so sorry for the confusion and shenanigans.

[ponyguru]

Okay, I'm probably way behind everyone else, but I just watched Hilda Season 3 on Netflix, and I have Thoughts about the finale. (Behind a cut, since it's exclusively spoilers for the very last episode, ha! I'm not gonna tag this for the fandom or anything, I just feel like I have to vent this somewhere or else I'll explode!)

Okay, so I literally started this season thinking, okay, a guy wrote the original graphic novel, but it's not going anywhere with shitty takes on women, so that's great, right? I'm really happy with that, and relieved, because men generally seem to not be able to write women well.

And then we get to the last episode, and it's literally just "oh hey, your mom spends the entire series acting as the human Stick In The Mud who prevents her minor child from going on death-defying adventures, but it's okay! because it turns out she's actually a half fairy who lost her parents tragically when she's ten! Now she has them back!

Ohhhh wait, because we don't want to awkwardly fold these new fairy characters into the existing universe - erm I mean, for plot reasons, her parents who she tragically lost as a child can't ever come back to see her again! So being a mom is unending tragedy, with a deadbeat fuckboy ex husband, her only family being some bitchass aunt who spent her whole life lying to her, financial struggles, and completely cut off from the people she misses most, who she only got to see for a few hours before being ripped away from them again.

Happy ending for all, hooray! Fireworks!"

Like are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?

This ENTIRE SERIES is centered around the idea that "the established status quo is wrong, and Hilda is the one who can repair that balance even if it doesn't seem likely because she's just a little girl", but we get to the Fairy Realm, and suddenly it's "whelp, can't do anything, sorry mom! bye bye fairy family forever!"

The only saving grace for the series ending on a stupid-as-fuck note might be that, since it's the last season, they simply didn't have time to wrap things up in a better manner, and for all I know, the graphic novel has a completely different take on this whole situation. But seriously, I felt so bad for poor Johanna, whose entire character arc seems to be "get used to being miserable, honey, cuz you're not the main character."

Or, alternately, 'a mom's only meaning is in her child, and she has to sacrifice all happiness for herself for the sake of her child, because once women have children they cease to exist as individuals,' but maybe that's a whole other rage essay to type out. GRRRRR.

I'm sure the intended meaning was, 'ohhhh it's so woooonderful having a chiiiiild you'd sacrifice anything for them, including your own happiness', but that's bullshit because the entire series is about Hilda breaking down magical barriers/beings and making things work out for the better. But not when it comes to her mom, I guess???

[admdmrtn]

hi edith :-) how are things with nate?

That’s a loaded question, she thinks to herself. Thankfully, no one’s in the office with her to demand for an answer immediately, so she decides to take her time to mull it over.

Edith leans back, looking outside to where the caramel hues of the sun embraces all that they come into contact with, creating shadows that cast along the streets in a warm bronze glow, reminding her aptly of a certain vampire’s eyes.

She sighs, tearing her eyes away. She grabs a stress ball from her desk and tosses it into the air; while it defeats the purpose of the object, throwing and catching it has always been the better remedy at distracting Edith rather than merely squeezing it.

Stop digressing.

She’s unsure of this ... love triangle that she seems to have found herself entangled in. On one hand, things with Nate are always easy. Comfortable. And Edith knows she can rely on him to communicate his feelings openly, which in turn encourages her to do the same as well. There is no reason whatsoever to feel insecure whenever she’s with Nate, and there’s just something about him that lets her be at ease. Not to mention their multiple shared hobbies and likings - which definitely helps them in their process of enjoying each other’s company.

And yet.

Edith catches the stress ball, her arms outstretched far above her head. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she squeezes it hard till she can barely feel her fingers.

She knows deep down that it would be a lot less complicated if she can just give her entire heart to him. Besides, Nate has already declared how he feels towards her; but they remain at a standstill, and it’s all on her to make that next move.

Another sigh escapes her lips as she closes her eyes, bringing her arm down. Maybe she might - maybe she might accept his confession. Perhaps, it’s the right thing to do. If anything, Edith feels massively guilty for constantly thwarting away his advances and she knows that it’s only a matter of time before she has to stop dragging him along, leading him on, and decide.

But then again, it’s in the fact that Edith is taking so long to make up her mind that elucidates the bigger problem. The other side of the story, if you will. One that involves a broody leader.

She sits upright in her chair, both hands fiddling on the stress ball now. 

See, while Edith is much more similar to Nate in terms of taste, what she feels towards him is a stronger platonic connection rather than a romantic one. True, that the best of love stories buds from a solid rooted friendship, but it seems to Edith that this may be an anomaly. Because whenever she tries to think of Nate in that regard, the image rarely stays for long and it’s Adam who takes his place in replacement eventually. With him, there’s an attraction that Edith simply cannot explain - cannot do anything else but to feel - and it compels her to do almost anything to continue delaying the progression between her and Nate’s relationship. 

Well, that’s your answer, isn’t it?

“No,” she whispers to herself.

There’s your answer.

“No-”

“E.D.?”

A different voice calls to her, coming from the front of the station rather than inside her head. The door to her office creeks softly as it opens, and not a second later, Edith’s eyes meet brown, mirroring the glaze that blankets the world outside.

Truly, it feels like the universe has prompted the answer all along - and now, he’s literally standing right before her.

But Edith can’t help it when her chest tightens, disappointment settling deep within her very being. She can’t help it when the realisation washes over her as though she hadn’t already knew about it all this time.

As her eyes lock into Nate’s adoring gaze, Edith feels nothing except guilt alone while her answer repeats itself over and over in her mind.

I choose Adam.

[an-absolute-travesty]

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au 

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

[maybuds]

tagged by @iriseslonging. thank you, julianne! really love your list ♥️

tagging @vecelle @fuinle @the2headedcalf @northstargrassmaiden @boykeats @poetrylesbian @softcurrentsmp3 ☺️ only if you want to do it, otherwise just ignore

list 3-5 snippets of literature/media that live in your head rent-free to the point where you have them memorized; write them down from memory, no cheating allowed

this is really long. i am a nerd. i’m sorry guys, you don’t have to read it. believe it or not, i only put down three “snippets.”

1. “It’s not enough to say the heart wants what it wants. I think of the ravine, the sides dark with pines as we lounged through summer days, waiting for something to happen. And of the nights, walking the long way home, the stars so close they seemed to crown us. Once, I asked you your favorite feeling. You said hunger. It felt true then. [...] From that moment, I told myself, it was the not yet that I wanted, the moving, the toward— [...] What I want is what I’ve always wanted: what I want is to be changed. [...] Which is to say, mi corazón, drink up the sunlight you can, and stop feeding the good fruit to the goat. Tell me you believe that the world is made of more than all its stupid, stubborn, small refusals, that anything, everything is still possible. I wait for word here, where the snow is falling, the solitaires are calling, and I am, as always, your M.” (Mary Szybist, from “To Gabriela at the Donkey Sanctuary”; I copied this down on one of my old journals back in college and used to read it out loud over and over)

2. “III. THE ESSAY

It is dumb to know what one has longing for

I am moved by the orange stitching on a girl’s corduroy book bag

I too wonder what I am happy about

There’s always something natural in pieces,

Like sand or snow. If early Western cultures

Could perceive the surface of the day as wrapping around them like a shell

I wouldn’t be here right now.

Not exactly me, not exactly here, not exactly now. The world spreads out

By how we look at one thing.

I tell myself this, and then I look at things for hours.

Don’t think I don’t know how stupid I sound.

Please do not think I don’t know.”

(Catie Rosemurgy, from “Miss Peach: The College Years”; i’m never sure of the line breaks and punctuation here)

3. Dialogue from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004, dir. Michel Gondry)

CLEMENTINE: I’m Ruth-less at the moment!

JOEL: I really should go.

JOEL: I gotta catch my ride.

CLEMENTINE:

CLEMENTINE: So go.

JOEL: I did.

JOEL: I thought maybe you were a nut.

JOEL: But you were exciting.

CLEMENTINE: I wish you’d stayed!

JOEL: I wish I’d stayed too. Now I wish I’d stayed. I wish I’d done a lot of things.

JOEL: God, I wish...

JOEL: I wish I’d stayed.

JOEL: I do.

CLEMENTINE: Well, I came back downstairs and you were gone!

JOEL: I walked out. I walked out the door

CLEMENTINE: Why?

JOEL: I don’t know, I felt like a scared little kid, it was above my head, I don’t know.

CLEMENTINE: You were scared??

JOEL: Yeah.

JOEL: Thought you knew that about me.

JOEL: I ran back to the bonfire trying to outrun my humiliation, I guess.

CLEMENTINE: Was it something I said?

JOEL: Yeah.

JOEL: You said, “So go.” With such disdain, you know.

CLEMENTINE: Oh, I’m sorry.

JOEL: It’s okay.

(Joel opens the door, starts to run out of the house.)

CLEMENTINE: Joely?

JOEL:

CLEMENTINE: What if you stayed this time?

JOEL: I walked out the door.

JOEL: There’s no memory left.

CLEMENTINE: Come back and make up a goodbye, at least.

CLEMENTINE: Let’s pretend we had one.

(Joel is sitting on a pile of sand in the middle of the collapsing memory beach house. Clementine goes down the stairs to meet him.)

CLEMENTINE: Bye, Joely.

JOEL: I love you.

CLEMENTINE: (whispering in Joel’s ear) Meet me in Montauk.

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 7: Lillian

The team gets ready for their respective dates... or lack thereof.

❃❃❃

“Ugh. We get a night off, and I’m stuck with an essay.”

Though the crime scene investigation had been a drag, in Cait’s opinion, their current situation sucked even more. They hungered for something exciting to happen— hell, a pissed-off Onikuma could crash through their door right then and there, and it would be a pleasant reprieve from the drudgery of a Grimm Studies report. Fighting was always preferable over writing.

Who cared about the variations in Grimm anatomy and physiology based on their habitat, anyway? One looked like an elephant, one looked like a wooly mammoth.

Either way, Cait had set themselves up for a boring night in, and was left silent and grouchy.

“How are you guys planning to spend your day-offs?” Hattie asked the Armilde twins as she slumped back against her pillow. Her small tophat remained firmly on her head, still lopsided.

Silently, Cait tried and failed to recount the last time they’d ever seen her without it.

“I have a charity event to go to,” Amaryllis replied, adjusting a clip-on silver earring onto her right earlobe.

“Oooh, that sounds exciting!” Hattie said, sitting up. “Can I come? Can I come?” 

“Sure! More people there means more funds for the cause. Plus, it’s public, so everyone in Mistral’s pretty much automatically invited.” Amaryllis paused, looking at her Scroll. “…You do still have that nice blue dress of yours from the dance, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Hattie replied.

Amaryllis nodded. “You might want to consider throwing that on, since it’s a kinda formal event, but otherwise you’re welcome to tag along.”

“Yay!” Hattie squealed, clapping her hands. “Thank you, Ammy! You going with anyone else?”

“Hector Wulfric. The event’s organized by his family, actually.” Amaryllis answered. A smile crept onto her face while she planned how she was going to spend the evening with her boyfriend. 

“Oh.” Hattie said, immediately deflating. “In that case, never mind. I don’t wanna play third wheel.” She took a seat again on the end of her bed. “How about Lilly? What’s she gonna do tonight?”

Lillian wasn’t there to answer. She’d been in the bathroom for a good half hour, brushing her teeth to a complete and almost blinding white.

“She’s going on a date with… what was it, sweet guns? No, wait, she called her tha— Oh, I remember. Sweet buns.” Amaryllis recounted, barely stifling a giggle.

“Who now? Is she that same girl Lillian mentioned yesterday?” Hattie asked in the same moment as Lillian emerged from the bathroom.

“Hush, you.” Lillian said, having overheard them. “For the millionth time, Am, her name is Rosario— and yes, Hattie, she’s the same one I mentioned last night.” She explained.

“Remind me how it went, again? Was it, ‘I got a couple of “sweet buns” right here, and they’ve already got your name on ‘em.’” Amaryllis put her hands firmly on her rear and swung her butt in a circle. She wiggled repetitively, mocking a tease she had observed from Rosario.

Lillian turned to give Amaryllis an especially evil glare. “You know what, Am? You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, okay.” Amaryllis adopted a placating tone, though the mischievous glint in her eye remained. “But am I a pain in your sweet bu—?” She began, continuing her gluteal choreography.

With a snarl, Lillian grabbed one of Amaryllis’ good leather boots from the floor and hurled it at her sister. It collided with the top of the redhead’s cranium, and she let out a strangled yelp.

“Ow, ow, ow...” Rubbing the top of her head, Amaryllis snapped back, “I swear to god, Lilly, if you messed up my hair…”

Hattie giggled in the background, though she lacked context on exactly what Amaryllis was making fun about— something about sweet buns, but that was all she could make out. Her stomach growled at the thought of the tasty pastry.

“Okay, okay, it’s time to stop. Both of you had your laughs.” Lillian said, as she grabbed her drawstring bag and threw it over her shoulder. “And sorry, Hattie, but I got no extra room tonight. As roaringly as I think you two would get along, I think it’s about time I spend some alone time with my girlfriend.” She coughed.

“Mmm.” Hattie mumbled in response. Though downtrodden by the absence of her teammates for the night, she knew that it was neither of their responsibilities to take her along with them— after all, they still had their private lives. “…Lillian?”

“Yes?” Lillian asked, straightening her cropped hoodie around her midriff.

“Your girlfriend’s the same one with the pastry shop, isn’t she?” Hattie asked.

“Same one.”

Hattie puffed her lips out. “Will you bring back some pastries when you’re done with your date, pleeeease?”

“Sure, I think that could be arranged.” Lillian laughed. “Okay, I should be on my way by now— I don’t want to keep Rosa waiting.”

Amaryllis “I’m going as well— I’ve still got to pick up my dress.” She turned to Hattie and Cait for a moment. “Oh, and you two eat some dinner later, okay? Hattie, if you really have nothing else to do, it’d be really nice of you to help Cait finish their paper. Afterward, maybe you two can come down to the charity ball.” She said invitingly.

Hattie’s eyes lit up again. “Hey, maybe we could! What do you think, Cait?”

Cait didn’t make any effort to face the twins, instead opting to wave a hand to them while facing the window. “Yeah.” They replied listlessly.

“…Okay then. We’ll see you later.” With that, Lillian and Amaryllis turned and exited the dorm room.

***

As Amaryllis and Lillian walked through Haven’s low-lit and empty dormitory halls, they continued to talk about each other’s plans for the evening.

“So... where are you taking Rosario?” Amaryllis inquired in an innocent tone.

“We’re heading down to the cliffs. I heard there are some nice spots over there for a late picnic.” Lillian answered flatly, looking straight ahead without breaking her stride.

“Cliffs. How very romantic.” Amaryllis drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. How about you and Hector, got anything hot and heavy planned for tonight? I heard something about you picking up a dress. I smell something fishy here.” Lillian turned to face Amaryllis, wiggling an eyebrow.

“Ew, don’t even go there. This outfit is for tonight’s event, and tonight’s event only. I’ll change clothes after I go to the salon to get my hair and face done up, and I gotta hit that first since it’s already getting pretty late.” Amaryllis hesitated. “And as far as I know, the only thing that’ll be getting hot tonight is my face from nervousness. Hector said his dad’s going to be there, and he wants me to meet him.”

“Heh. I know the feeling.” Lillian chuckled.

She knew full well that her sister had never met Hector’s family before— both her and the Wulfric lad had seemed secretive about the whole relationship, though they had been dating for well over a year by now. She also was versed in the experience of having to meet a special someone’s family for the first time, and a sweaty face didn’t even start to describe it.

Honestly, it felt more like a jolt of terror up the spine, followed by the sensation of one’s stomach falling right into their feet.

“Don’t worry, Am. They’ll love you.” Lillian reassured her sister. Smirking, she continued, “Just don’t tell them that the reason their beloved son is head-over-heels for you is because of those lumps of fat glued to the front of your ribcage.”

Amaryllis flushed red, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, shut up. I’ll have you know that Hector loves all the fat in my body, regardless of its exact location.”

“Yeah?” Lillian retorted. “Tell that to the two loves of his life: peanut butter and jelly.” She teased as she pointed her thumb at Amaryllis’ chest. “…Or was it butter, and I can’t believe it’s not butter?”

“Please. His nicknames for my breasts are much more creative than that.” Amaryllis countered.

A pause.

“So you admit that he has nicknames for them, huh?”

Blushing a brighter shade of red, Amaryllis huffed and walked as fast as she could, overtaking Lillian. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with her sister, not because of what she was saying, but because she had no good retorts up her sleeve to retaliate with.

“Bye, sis. Have fun with your boob fetishist of a boyfriend.” Lillian waved, a guileless smirk plastered on her face.

“You have a nice date too… sweet buns fetishist!” For one last time, Amaryllis turned around to face Lillian and performed the corresponding taunt.

Turning around, she nearly walked right into a green-haired, pink-eyed girl with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, who had obviously been witness to her previous action. Unmoving, she apparently appeared to still be processing it.

After a moment’s pause, the girl blinked, snorted a small laugh and grinned. “Yeah, Sweet buns, all right.” She cracked, holding the toothbrush out of her mouth to speak.

Hiding her face with her arm from embarrassment, Amaryllis ran past the girl and out the entrance of the dormitory. Lillian and the girl watched with amusement as she fled.

“Hey.” The girl said, turning back to face Lillian.

“Hey.” Lillian replied, sparing a second’s eye contact as she walked past. She vaguely recognized her as one of the first-years.

With that brief acknowledgement, they both continued on their separate ways, in opposite directions along the hall.

[chilling-seavey]

There Goes My Life - Chapter Two

A/N I’m thinking of keeping these chapters short and sweet at least to start off and when we get to the juicy stuff I’ll stretch them out 😏

September 5-10, 2038

Penelope distracted herself with decorating her dorm room as the rest of the students moved in the following day. It was a new step she wasn’t quite ready to face but by early afternoon, the white brick walled dorm room was plastered in photographs and motivational quotes and tied together with an endless string of fairy lights. Penelope kicked her empty suitcase under her bed before stepping back with a smile to admire her hard work that made her once dull room feel more comfortable, her hands set on her hips. She hadn’t seen her sister all day, so she decided to slip on a pair of sneakers and pull her dark hair out of its messy ponytail before making her way down the hall. The place was bustling with new students and their families and Penelope slunk between them without being noticed. She knocked on her sister’s door, swaying on her heels impatiently.

Clementine opened it with a smile, “I was starting to think you’ve forgotten about me already.”

“How could I?” Penelope giggled, letting herself in.

Clementine had also been busy decorating however her room was still a mess, clothes thrown over the unmade bed and bathroom products tossed haphazardly over the dresser.

“God, Clem, how do you live like this?” Penelope tisked.

“It’s no big deal. Just got to shove these in my closet.” Clementine picked up an armful of clothes and hung them up, a couple shirts falling off their hangers and onto the floor and she just shoved them in randomly. Penelope sat herself cross legged on her sister’s bed, watching her scramble around to pile her last few things in random drawers.

“The floor meeting is in ten minutes…I figured we could go together.” Penelope said.

“I went last year. It’s all the same stuff so I don’t think I’ll go.” Clementine shrugged.

“Oh.” Penelope frowned. “But I wanted to.”

“You can go without me.” Clementine laughed, turning back to her sister.

“I guess.”

“And you can tell me all about it when you get back.” Clementine assured her with a teasing eyeroll.

Penelope nodded lightly, twirling the end of her ponytail around her finger anxiously.

“Just down the hall, Nell. It’ll be like fifteen minutes tops.” Clementine sighed, glancing at her younger sister’s nervous fidgeting as she closed her drawer. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Clementine helped Penelope settle into university life throughout the first week of school, showing her around the campus the day before classes and all the secret study spots. Of course, none of those places mattered once Penelope was shown the art building and the studio spaces and she was itching to get her hands on some of the equipment in there. It really felt like they were back at home again after spending a year apart and Penelope loved spending time with her sister just the two of them.

Once classes started, Penelope kept to herself but payed complete attention to the professors, soaking in everything on the syllabus she could. She even got an art kit from her studio class which contained canvases and paintbrushes and all sorts of good quality materials for her to have. Penelope got back to her room after her classes and called her parents right away to tell them all about what she was going to be studying.

“And we got expensive and really good quality paintbrushes! With natural hair bristles! They’re so pretty I’m almost too scared to get them dirty!” Penelope grinned into the phone as she laid them out in a row on her desk with her other supplies.

“You’re like a real professional artist now, huh?” Florence chuckled.

“Not yet.” Penelope mumbled through a smile. “But my studio professor wants us to start preliminary sketches for our first assignment next class! I already have so many ideas.”

“Of course, you do.” Daniel smiled through the line. “You sound happy, bug.”

“So happy. I’m so excited.” Penelope sighed, curling up on her desk chair.

“Nothing to worry about.” Daniel added.

“No. You were right.” Penelope tisked playfully, resting her phone between her shoulder and her ear so she could pick up a paintbrush and run and bristles over her palm slowly. “I haven’t made any friends yet, but Clementine has been helping me out and she’s been great. It’s just like being at home again.”

“I’m glad you two can take care of each other.” Daniel said.

“And friends will come with time, I’m sure!” Florence added.

“Yeah.” Penelope smiled to herself, glancing at the time. “Oh, I should go. We were gonna grab dinner in the caf together.”

“Alright, Nell. We love you.” Daniel’s smile could be heard through the phone.

“Love you guys too.”

They said their quick goodbyes and Penelope jumped up to find Clementine for dinner. With her room key in hand and meal card in pocket, Penelope led herself down the hall with a skip in her step to her sister’s room.

Clementine answered the door quickly, ushering her in as she was on the phone, and closed the door behind her.

“Yeah it’s due after homecoming.” Clementine said to whoever was on the other line and she leaned back over her open agenda on her desk. “Yeah, the 20th.”

Penelope waited quietly by the door, watching her sister chew on her bottom lip as she listened to the person through her phone.

“Is $40 fine? It needs to be 1500 words.” Clementine stood up straighter.

Penelope frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

“No, I don���t need to proof it, I trust you. I’ll e-transfer you when you have it done. Thanks. Yep. Bye.”

Clementine hung up and turned to her sister.

“Sorry about that. Ready for dinner?”

“Who was that?” Penelope asked through a frown.

“A classmate.” Clementine shrugged.

“Who you’re paying to write an assignment for you?”

Clementine sighed deeply, almost with annoyance, “Yeah. Just because I want to attend homecoming weekend and I don’t have time for an essay and the parties.”

“Parties? Since when do you go to parties?” Penelope crossed her arms.

“Since I’ve started to live a little after leaving home. I’ll show you how fun they can be, don’t worry.” Clementine patted her sister’s shoulder. “Just don’t tell mum and dad, okay? You know they wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah. They wouldn’t.” Penelope said flatly, turning to stare at her older sister’s back as she started for the door.

Clementine turned back with a wide smile, “Ready for dinner?”

Tag List: @hopeinglimelight​ ~ @anneofgreengables26​​ ~ @badbunnypr​ ~ @calumhoodiskindahot​ ~ @sothisisathingforsomereason​ ~ @jocelyntheduckie​

[boomerang109]

*looks at my fic, which hasn’t been updated in 4 weeks (other than edits because i Didn’t Like It) and i’ve now driven myself into a horrible writers block immediately after outlining the entire thing possibly because i have outlined the entire thing and i forgot where i was going with this but am i sending it anyway yes i am please god tell me to write someone threw my motivation out the window and it’s all muddy now and i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block anyway ily cant wait for the next chapter of wwda get it out when you can don’t stress ily bye*

don’t tell me why my brain is like “yes we can answer this but we’ll combust if we look at any messages.” there’s no logic but i’ll get around to your messages and everyone else’s there. (to everyone waiting for like two sentence answers who’s seeing me post paragraphs, i’m sorry. the braincell does not function)

the way that i’m in YES! i can help! mode even tho i myself am lowkey in writer’s block which means i’m not qualified at all ajfhjghfgfdjghj

first of all: outlines are just to guide you. they stress me the fuck out too (which is why i’ve refused to put my wwda outline to paper, despite the fact that this means the timeline is absolutely fucked. like it’s in my brain, but if i put it on paper i’ll try to stick to it and i’ll freak out--see my month long break when i had an “outline” for chapter four). you can have goals for chapters (ie, lay groundwork for foreshadowing/character development/etc) but overall? just let yourself sit in front of the computer and vibe. don’t think about where you’re going, just think about where you are. 

“i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block“ this? this is you judging yourself while you write and i don’t want to see ANY of that shit. writing is a process and editing is a thing, but when you’re doing your first draft you just gotta word vomit. sorry that’s a gross phrase but that’s what i do. and honestly? most of wwda is barely pieced together word vomit. idek why anyone likes it, but they do. and even if they didn’t--nothing would exist if you don’t put something to paper to start with.

apparently this advice doesn’t apply to everyone (i still can’t process @hella1975 ‘s writing technique like what the actual fuck) but for me one of the big things with writer’s block is starting where i want to start and just writing whatever fucking scenes i want. idk if that makes sense so i’ll put it into the context of wwda. so when i was still in my fucking intensive class i wasn’t writing cause i didn’t have time except for like a few minutes before bed at like 3am. now at 3am i’m not gonna write suki and azula being rivals cause i can barely handle that dynamic when i’m Focused. but at 3am i’m sad as fuck and i generally like to peruse the ao3 dadkoda tag, so instead i just wrote my own dadkoda scenes for much later (although they’re not actually that far off) in the fic. are they gonna need some editing cause i was just like ‘maximum angst even tho this scene is supposed to be about healing’? yes. yes i was. now the other day on the plane (when i really should’ve been working on an essay i didn’t end up finishing) i was like okay, i need to work on something actually relevant to chapter 12. but i’ve worked myself into a corner with my azula & iroh scene so i didn’t want to deal with that bullshit on two hours of sleep and also being called “miss” and other female terms in the airport got me all in the gender feels so i was like oh! i’ll write some more enby aang! and i wrote this like gorgeous passage or two on aang’s gender feels. and yeah, it probably makes no sense for aang cause i wrote it from a pov that was too much me and not enough aang, but the point still remains. i skipped to a part of the chapter that was important to me. and then i realized that aang could be having these thoughts in the context of another scene which led to . . . and there i was with somewhat of a complete thought for the chapter. 

also along those lines, if you’re having writer’s block you gotta look at that block. what’s wrong? is there something wrong with the story up to this point? is there something you don’t like about where you’re going? is there something you really want to write that you’re not letting yourself write? 

cause the thing is, we’re not professional authors. we’re fic writers. we do this for fun cause we love the characters. so if you’re not loving the characters for some reason, you shouldn’t force yourself. take the pressure off yourself. this fandom is so supportive, they’re not going to rush you (literally look at the fact that even as you say you’re excited for wwda you also tell me not to stress) and remember to apply that to yourself. it’s okay to need a break, whether that’s cause the vibes are off or cause you’re tired or any other reason. 

i tried to write a bunch of different thoughts cause i know different things work for different people, i hope at least one of these ideas help. i literally haven’t looked at wwda even though i really want to be writing (and i still haven’t been reading fic). sometimes our brains just don’t cooperate. and yeah, i could sit here and yell at myself and go “what the fuck boom you’ve been looking forward to writing for literal weeks and now you have time and you’re doing other stuff what is wrong with you” and sometimes it’s really tempting to give into that. but the truth is i don’t usually do as much work as i did the past few weeks on as little sleep as i got so i’m really fucking tired. and so i’m giving myself a break. and i’m just not emotionally prepared to read fic cause--oh oops i hadn’t admitted to myself until right this second that i was avoiding fic cause i’m suppressing my feelings that kinda hurt wtf this wasn’t supposed to become therapy hour wtf. but as dumb as all that feels to put, i’m not gonna delete it cause i’m sure you’re gonna read it and say something along the lines of “it’s okay to rest and wait to read/write if that’s what you need!” cause you’re a nice person. so say those things to yourself IF that’s what you need. but if you’ve been sitting in bed for weeks and don’t have any reason not to write, maybe it’s time to word vomit. or if you have a problem with your story maybe you should look at that. just, do whatever works for you but be gentle with yourself. give yourself the same kindness you give others. whenever i’m not sure how to handle something (or how to treat myself ig), i’ll ask myself how i would give advice to a friend. so maybe try that. look at yourself, your writing process, your fic like it’s a friend’s and be like hmm. what would i recommend my friend do? and if weird rambley advice that probably displays my many years of therapy is helpful to you, then know my inbox (and my messages that i swear i’ll answer some day) are always open. i’m not gonna read this over cause i know if i do i’ll be too embarrassed to post so i’m just hoping it’s helpful. much love <3

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Harringrove for Australia: Ihni♥

hi there!! the gorgeous and fabulous and fantastic @ihni asked me to write this for #HarringroveforAustralia! and here it is!! ♥

prompt: someone wants to get back at Billy so they do something Very Stupid that leads to Billy getting hurt; guilt and hurt/comfort ensues!

tags: mentions of abuse, bruising, implied (light) blood, past child abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, hopeful ending (♥!)

You can catch it on AO3 here if you so desire!

Word Count: 4,452 (i’m legit the worst i’m so sorry i went over my word limit!)

thank you babe and thanks again @tracy7307 for putting the whole thing together!

(kay time to finish and essay, bye, love you)

---

~On Your Best Behavior~

Steve may not be the smartest kid in school. He’s right at average in even his favorite classes, and, truth be told… there’s not a lot of those. He likes to think he has street smarts, but Tommy always has to show him up; has to remind him what position his “rich boy privilege” has left him in. It’s gotten to the point where he feels like there’s nothing special about his own knowledge. He doesn’t know about history, or grammar, or even music, or movies… some days it feels like he doesn’t know anything. Like everyone’s right when they say his head is just there to carry his hair around.

But if there's one thing he knows… one thing he’s absolutely sure of… it’s that Billy Hargrove is the biggest asshole in all of Indiana. And Steve has met Mayor Kline.

But Billy takes it all. He’s the culmination of every jackass in the state, all rolled up into this punk who can’t seem to keep his fucking shirt on. He saunters around like he owns the place, shoving into Steve in the hallways and wagging his tongue like it’s some kind of… threat or something, Steve isn’t sure.

He just blew into town like a wild thunderstorm a little over 2 months ago and already he’s given everyone grief- at least, everyone Steve knows. He cheats on every girl he’s out with (if the girls of Hawkins are to be believed), he’s in detention every day for mouthing off to teachers, he stole Steve’s friends which… yeah he’s having a hard time reconciling that one because if they left that quickly maybe they weren’t too good of friends but still.

And worst of all, what absolutely takes the cake in the Shit-Show that is Billy Hargrove and his bullying….

He picks on the kids.

He picks on Steve’s kids. He scares Max, he bullied Lucas, he nearly killed all of them with his little stunt with the car that first week he was here. He splashed them with rain water once as he drove past them, he kicked over Dustin’s bike when he was standing outside of the arcade, he dropped Max’s backpack in the mud the other day. Hell, one time they were all bouncing a basketball around and Mike missed it and it accidentally rolled over to Billy (who was leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette) who took out a pocket knife and stabbed it, letting all the air out before tossing it back and walking away.

He’s a jerk. An outright punk. And yeah, maybe the stuff he’s done isn’t criminal. Maybe most of it at this point is just kind of bratty and petty. Maybe Max explained away the Lucas thing pretty definitively (with a lot of “He didn’t mean it that way”s and “You don’t understand the whole situation”s and “He hates all boys who look at me”s and one quiet “It’s his dad who’s the strict one…”), but… but still. It doesn’t matter, he’s still an asshole and people shouldn’t just be able to get away with being an asshole like that.

Yeah, sure, Steve himself was kind of an asshole for a little bit. Yeah, sure, Steve got let off the hook a lot of times for doing some of the same things Billy has done. But Steve had reasons. Plus he was young when that stuff happened. He doesn’t do that anymore.

Either way, it shouldn’t really matter why Billy’s doing it or not. They’re horrible things to do and Billy needs to stop.

Which all leads up to right now, which finds Steve in a diner with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike (because Will and Max had a project they had to stay behind and work on). They’re on the heated topic of Billy because apparently the older boy popped the tires on Dustin’s bike.)

“He’s such an asshole.” Dustin lisps into his soda (that Steve was very reluctant to give the boy, but he pouted about his bike enough that Steve gave in.

Mike nods, mumbling angrily into his french fries while Lucas, across from Mike, rolls his eyes.

“We need to do something about him.” Dustin says again, before getting that sly little grin on his face that lets Steve know he’s hatching a plan.

And if Steve’s honest, it’s a very very childish plan. Mike is even adamant that it’s childish, claiming they could come up with something better before switching his tune with very little convincing, citing Billy as a child. So it really is childish. And Steve knows that because someone did this to him once back in the 5th grade. It pissed him off to no end which, honestly, is the only reason Steve begins to consider it. It’s not like any real harm can come of it, it’ll probably just be more annoying than anything which is honestly what Steve wants.

He mulls over it for a second before deciding: “Yeah. Sure. Fuck that guy… tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Dustin and Mike laugh triumphantly with each other.

Lucas has become stunningly quiet as he takes a big sip of his water.

----

When Steve rings the doorbell around 5:30 pm when he’s sure his intended target will be home, the sound comes out as a far more pleasant chime than he was expecting. He doesn’t come to this side of town very often, even though Tommy used to live on this street back when they were kids. It’s not bad, but Steve definitely notices the dying grass, the empty front yard, the worse-for-wear sidewalk…

He waits patiently, mentally preparing what he’s going to say, while hearing heavy footsteps approach the door in a way that Steve can only describe as menacing.

The door swings open, and there before him, in all his 6’ glory, is Billy’s dad. Mr. Hargrove.

He’s only an inch taller than Steve and yet he carries himself like he’s got a foot over him.

“Can I help you?”

Steve clears his throat. The house is deafeningly quiet, even from the fully opened doorway. It confuses Steve for a second, because any time he drops Max off home and Billy is there, the house is raging with music. And Steve knows Billy is here now, if the arrogant blue Camaro is anything to go by.

“Hello! Mr. Hargrove, right?” Steve offers his hand up, putting on his best ‘good rich boy’ voice that he saves specifically for meeting friends of his parents. “Steve Harrington.”

“Harrington.” Mr. Hargrove says with some kind of bitter admiration in his voice. “I’ve heard about your parents.”

Steve isn’t surprised. Neil takes his hand firmly. It feels like a power move, how hard the man grips, but Steve does his best to rival the strength. He needs to be as credible as possible here.

Steve just isn’t quite sure what to say about his parents. He opts for a charming smile that doesn’t quite disarm Mr. Hargrove like he was hoping.

“So,” Mr. Hargrove begins, letting go of Steve’s now sore hand. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, well Mr. Hargrove-”

“Go ahead and call me Neil, son.” The man says in a way that feels more intimidating than he thinks it should. Steve hears a door close rather harshly from inside the house. Mr. Hargro- Neil grimaces at it for a split second.

“Okay uh… Neil. I just wanted to talk to you about your son. Your son is Billy Hargrove, correct?”

“That’s correct.” Neil’s face stays as stoic as before.

“Well I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but I felt someone should bring it up with you. Your son has been a… a… menace. To a lot of people at school.”

Steve worked through so many words in his head and menace is what tumbles out of his dumb, nervous brain. It’s like he’s holding cotton in his mouth, he feels so stupid.

It does the job though. If human eyes could turn red, Neil’s eyes would be like a firetruck. Or maybe the fire itself.

“He has, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve hates saying sir. Feels he needs to, here. “And outside of school as well. To a lot of little kids and… and even to your younger daughter.”

Steve knows Max isn’t his biological daughter. At least, he’s pretty sure. Pretty sure the dad is Billy’s and the mom is Max’s. But it slips out before he can stop it. More cotton balls falling from his mouth. Still, it’s working as he meant it to.

Right? This is what I’m trying to do?

Because suddenly, seeing the tension in this man’s jaw and the fire in his eyes, Steve’s not quite so sure he wants to be here anymore.

“Oh really? And have your parents witnessed this?”

Steve blinks. He doesn’t really understand the question.

“Uh… excuse me, sir, my parents?” Steve starts to pick at the side hem of his jeans.

“Yes.” Neil’s teeth are clenched. Steve fights not to take a step back. “Your parents. Do they notice too?”

Steve really has to wrap his mind around the question before he can come up with an appropriate answer. This man has heard of his parents, probably because people gossip. If people are gossiping, it’s probably about their money. It’s always about their money. Their influence even though, if anyone were to ask Steve, they don’t really have any. They’re never around to influence the town like everyone seems to swear they do. They just have money, and apparently money talks. As far as Steve is concerned, it’s more of a whisper, but he knows not everyone feels the same way. He knows someone who lives in a house like this, with untended gardens and unpaved walkways, probably doesn’t feel the same way.

He thinks he has an answer now.

“Yes, they have noticed. They think it’s a little… embarrassing.”

Neil looks like he’s going to growl. Steve takes that step back now, even though he doesn’t think about it.

“That’s very interesting.” Neil really might as well be snarling at this point. “Well, thank you for telling me, son. I’ll definitely have a chat with William.”

Steve nods his head and before he can think about it or even say a word, the door is in his face and the man is gone, the only thing left behind being the sound of heavy footsteps.

Steve feels like he’s in a bit of a daze as he walks back to his car, but not before tripping over the crack in the poorly paved walkway. And Steve may not be the smartest kid in school, may not be the smartest kid in Hawkins at this moment, but if there’s one thing he does know, it’s that Billy is getting grounded right now.

He’d call this a success.

---

Billy isn’t at school the next day.

Steve tries to pretend like he’s not nervous about it.

And really, he isn’t all that nervous. Sure, it’s in the back of his mind for most of the day, but he’s not exactly nervous. He's not even sure what he would be nervous about.

It’s not until he sees Max yelling at Dustin and smacking him upside the head that he gets a little nervous.

It’s not like it has to be a particularly special occasion for Max to do something like that to Dustin, but still. There’s something in Steve’s gut that tells him he’s involved in this. If Max’s angry eyes that turn on him are anything to go by, he’s right in his assumption.

“Did you come to my house last night?” She asks like she knows. It’s hardly a question.

“Yes.” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them from lifting in the air in submission.

“You idiots! What were you thinking?” Max yells, smacking Dustin then Mike then Lucas, who whines that he didn’t want it to happen. She then turns to Steve, punching his arm harshly.

“Woah woah woah, what did we do?” Steve asks like he doesn’t know.

“Like you don’t know, you moron! You- you! Did you talk to Neil?”

Steve is so taken aback that he just nods. Max growls.

“You moron! Never come to my house again!” Max’s face is red with anger, absolutely fuming as Dustin and Mike and Lucas sputter all at once in a vain attempt to make things right. But Max isn’t listening, she’s laying her board on the ground, about to skate away.

“Wha-? Max, what’s wrong? We were just-”

“I don’t care what you were trying to do!”

“Your brother is an asshole! You say so all the time!” Dustin yells in a desperate type of defense. Max’s eyes look far more hurt now than anything else, even as she’s still glaring daggers.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says and there’s a lot less malice in her voice now. Her shoulders are slumped as she starts to skate away.

Steve can’t take it.

“Max.” It’s in vain. He tries harder. ”Max! Where’s your brother?”

“Stay away from him.” Max calls back, pushing off to skate faster.

The boys all look to Steve, who knows in an instant.

---

At least, he hopes he does. It’s not until he’s about a mile out from the quarry that he starts to have second thoughts about if his gut was right.

He’s driving slowly, mind reeling, heart pumping blood so loudly through his ears that he can’t hear his music, when he sees a figure he wasn’t expecting to see.

Hop?

It is. It’s Hop. Standing above a hunched over boy that Steve is praying is the boy he’s been looking for. He knows it is- no one else has that haircut in Hawkins.

Steve steps out of his car gingerly, does his best to avoid twigs and leaves on the ground as he walks up to the pair to listen in on what they’re saying.

Hop’s face is serious, with a tone to match.

“Look, like it or not you’re still a minor. If you keep not showing up for school your parents are gonna get in big trouble.”

“Promise?” Billy’s voice is weak.

“Har har. Get to class tomorrow.” Hop says, entirely unimpressed. A few seconds go by, the white noise of Indiana bugs fill in the silence between them in the strangest way Steve has ever experienced. Suddenly the air is different. It shifts in a very personal way. Steve immediately picks up on the fact that he shouldn’t be here, right before Hop begins again with:

“… You... know, right? If you need someone to drive you I can-”

It’s soft and sincere and Hop’s hand is reaching out towards Billy’s shoulder gingerly, like he’s going to pet a strange animal, when he catches something in the corner of his eye- and that something is Steve.

Hop clears his throat, and Billy looks over to Hop at the sound.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone.” Hop says, voice void of emotion. Billy turns his head just enough to see Steve out of the corner of his eye before he whips back around. “Stay outta trouble, kid.”

And with that, Hop gives what looks like a sad smile in Billy’s direction before leaving. He gives an odd nod of acknowledgement to Steve as he passes, his face looking rougher than usual. More tired.

Steve takes a couple of steps forward, suddenly finding himself in the position of approaching a strange animal. This “strange animal” that he’s seen almost every day for the past couple of months.

Billy’s still sat on the ground, his legs in a folded up form of criss cross that allow his elbows to hook around his knees. Steve thinks he looks rather small like this. He hasn’t moved to look up at Steve at all. Steve isn’t even sure if the boy looked at Hop when he was here.

“Hey…” He starts, hoping it’ll get the boy’s attention. It doesn’t. “Uh, Billy?”

He’s met with the white noise of the screeching bugs. They stand there until Steve can’t take it, which is only about 3 seconds tops.

“Billy?”

Again, nothing. Billy doesn’t even move-doesn’t even flinch.

“Hargrove.” Steve is stern with it this time.

Steve’s getting impatient, but Billy’s a rock. Steve shifts to sit in his hip.

“Hey, asshole!” He calls a little louder than he needs to when he’s a few feet away. The response is rather instant this time.

“You called?” Billy’s voice drawls and it gets under Steve’s skin like nothing else.

“God you’re annoying…“ Steve groans, exhaustion visible in his face and audible in his voice. He rubs a hand down his cheek as his heart races with the words building up in his mouth. The cotton balls are back. “Hey uh… Why weren’t you at school today?”

He doesn’t know what to expect, but the unattractive snort definitely isn’t surprising.

“Ha…” Billy’s laugh comes out more like a puff of air. “Got some new accessories that I don’t think fit the dress code.”

Billy’s looking at the ground when he says it and Steve almost doesn’t hear. Certainly doesn’t understand.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s shoulders shake and it takes a few seconds of debating if Billy needs a comforting hand or something to realize he’s chuckling and not crying. The boy shakes his head, curly mullet bouncing in a way that’s far too light for how Steve feels right now.

“Why do you care, huh Harrington? Miss me that much?” Billy looks to his feet now. Steve sees the hint of a smirk on his lips, past his curls. “Can’t handle a day without me?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that-”

“You came all the way out here to look for me.”

Steve pauses.

“I was heading here anyway.” He lies. Billy snorts like he knows it’s a lie. Because he does know.

“Right. It’s fine to miss me, babe.”

Steve’s face burns.

“Don’t call me that.” He hisses, blood boiling where it’s pumping fast through his body. Billy cackles for good measure.

Steve’s got half a mind to turn around. Damn this guy, whatever he got, he fucking deserved it. He’s an asshole. Whatever happened should have happened.

But…

But Max. The image of her red face and tired eyes flashes into Steve’s memory. She was livid. Screaming. Close to crying.

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Steve didn’t like that. Because how is he supposed to know if no one says anything? How is he supposed to understand if no one tells him?

He sighs.

“Look Hargrove I… I’m sorry. Okay?”

He feels defensive. Billy almost looks at him, but looks at Steve’s shoes instead. Steve still can’t see his face from the shadows of the trees and curls.

“Sorry for what?”

“I… I-” Steve stammers because he didn’t expect a question.

“Use your words, princess.” Billy says on a snort and Steve breaks.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know. It’s just… Max was upset this afternoon and said something about your… your dad, I guess and now I… she made me feel awful and I don’t even know why but I do know I’m sorry, alright? So can you just quit being an asshole and accept my apology and-”

Steve’s eyes wander back to the boy at his feet. Billy’s shoulders are tense. Up by his ears, muscles taut all down his back, absolutely strung out.

“What do you know about my dad?” His voice is dark now. Dangerous. There’s a growl in it. A familiar one.

Steve fights his step back.

“I just… Not a lot. I just met him-”

“Shit.” Billy whispers, loud enough for Steve to hear. His shoulders are shaking- like a leaf in the fall wind and suddenly Steve feels that concern again.

Billy throws his head back, eyes closed and grimace on his lips as he shakes his head in what looks like disbelief, hair falling down behind him as the sun catches him and makes his face light up in a way that's near blinding and Steve knows this is a serious situation and thus is definitely not thinking about how the late evening sun does Billy and his gorgeous skin every favor.

“Shoulda known. The rich and famous Harringtons.”

Steve rolls his eyes at the statement.

“We’re not famous. We’re not even that rich, I-”

And that’s when Billy finally turns his head to Steve. Finally lets Steve see what he’s been wanting to see- that stupidly smug face with that stupidly cocky grin, telling Steve everything is fine and-

And-

“Holy shit… Billy, what happened?”

Billy’s face is more purple than it is tan. The skin around both eyes is bruised, his left worse than his right. There’s a bit of red on his cheek and his lower lip is split. The side of his neck has a few bruises as well, and Steve knows just from looking at them that they weren’t done out of passion- not romantic passion at least. No, rather a far more malevolent passion.

And now Steve notices the way Billy is moving. Gingerly and slow, like everything aches. It probably does.

Good lord…

“Billy?”

Billy’s looking up at Steve with the saddest eyes and it hits Steve like a freight train. There’s no anger to be found in them. Any fire that was there is there for a split second before they just turn tired. Bloodshot and worn and tired. His lips curl up into a grin that carries poison in it.

“I ran into a wall. Fell down the stairs.” Billy says, in a voice that tries so hard to be innocent that it’s haunting. “I’m a real clumsy kid.”

Billy’s voice wavers at that last part and it strikes Steve like a knife to his chest. Because he doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t even want to think it… but he thinks he knows. This happened to him once. Those words sound familiar and they link back to when Steve was 13- the first and last time his father ever backhanded him- and Steve could see the fear in both of his parents faces as they implored him to tell everyone he just fell down the stairs.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. What to do with his hands. Just looks into Billy’s eyes until he can’t anymore. Until he’s fidgeting and his mind is racing and his heart is threatening to rip a hole in his chest and-

“Can you do me a favor?” Billy asks, voice quieter than Steve’s ever heard him.

“Uhm…” Steve has to bite his tongue before he starts babbling.

“Real simple favor.” Billy turns his eyes to his own shoes. “Never come by my house again. Alright?”

Steve’s heart drops. He sees Billy heave a heavy sigh after he says those words.

“Wha-?”

“God, Harrington.” Billy’s exasperated. Tilts his head back and this time the light catches all of that purple on his face. It’s a universe of the most confusing pain Steve’s ever felt and he feels stupid even thinking that. “Can you hear me or do you have too much dried hairspray caked in your ears? I need you to listen.”

“I’m listening.” Steve’s voice is near a whisper. He can’t take his eyes off the bruising.

“Good. Don’t come by my house. Ever again.”

Steve feels a lump in his throat. Billy turns blue, expectant eyes on Steve, who just nods in what feels like shame. The most hideous and painful shame.

“Yeah… yeah okay I uh… fuck Billy. Shit, I’m so sorry-”

“Save it.” Billy stretches his legs out in front of him, head tilting back, face catching the sun.

“I’m serious I-”

“I said save it.” Billy screws his eyes shut. “I don’t wanna hear about it, alright?”

Steve nods, heat prickling the back of his eyelids.

Billy sighs.

“I’ll be back in school by Monday. I’ll be sure to be a real asshole. Make up for lost time.”

Billy’s acting like this is normal. Like this isn’t major. Like Steve didn’t just discover something he’s sure in a million years he wasn’t supposed to see.

The curly haired boy looks up with tired blue eyes and Steve can’t do anything. All he can do is watch this boy ache when he moves and it makes Steve livid. Saddened. Frightened.

“Billy… I don’t know who’s doing this-” A lie. He’s pretty sure. He has a good inkling, at least. He saw that man. “But they shouldn’t be. You don’t deserve it.”

And now all Steve can think about is how he didn’t believe that statement not 20 minutes ago. Any action Billy made always left Steve begging for a comeuppance. The boy’s an asshole, sure, but… no one deserves this.

Steve is boiling over it. Boiling in a cold sweat because it took this- this horrific moment of realization to realize the boy’s just a kid. Like him and Tommy and Jonathan. Just a stupid 17 year old who does some bratty things.

Billy looks up at Steve and chuckles in tired disbelief.

“You don’t deserve it.” Steve implores, made desperate by the disbelief he sees in Billy.

Billy just looks up at him, looking utterly hopeless, utterly defeated.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Neither can take their eye off the other, and Steve’s sure it’s for different reasons, but his mind is racing, rushing, flooding with his own- with his own concern for the exhaustion that he sees, with his fear of how long this has gone on, with his (truthfully, surprising) anger towards the fact that this boy’s beauty has been bruised and bloodied and that’s a new revelation… beauty…

Billy looks away first. He tells Steve to go. Raises his voice a bit when Steve takes a step in the wrong direction and moves to sit with him. Insists he’ll see Steve at school and it’s all a blur as Steve’s voice doesn’t allow him to say anything.

And in a few minutes of his rushing blood deafening him, he’s back in his car and Everybody Wants to Rule the World comes to life through the speakers as he drives away from this boy that he didn’t know he cared this much about until… until maybe too late.

And Steve’s blood is rushing, boiling inside of him until... until a near calm smile rests on his lips. A small, hopeful smile.

Because Billy promised to talk to him Monday. To keep their dynamic going.

Maybe the ball is back in Steve’s court. And if it is, he’s definitely running with it.

[charmed-asylum]

The Partners

The Partners, part two

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: So haha guess who was clowning herself thinking she could split the first chapter(2011) into two parts. This gal here that's who lol.  Here is part two we got it all a bit of angst mention of death. You know the good stuff. Lets CHAT Come get a tag or Whatnot. If you are new catch up :)

Previous Chapter (1) 

tagged:  @weapinggwillowss​ @nottherightseason​ @strangerfictions​  @thewolfswriting​ @hauntors 

Finn drove down Seaward Highway he wasn’t sure if he had the address right. This area was far more luxurious and well Camille wasn’t the image of rich kids or even a trust fund baby. On each side of the street, off the main road was huge houses far back on spread apart. He pulled to a driveway that has gold numbers reading 212 and stops. The house was as big as a castle with an excellent view. He pulls up the red clay driveway he stops. The only thing he thought the whole drive was how to say sorry but now he was full of more butterflies. He walks up to the double size glass doors and hopes for the best. DING DONG 

Finn waited for her to answer. As the door started to open handsome man step in its entrance. He was tall probably 6’3 well built great jet black hair. Finn tried not to stare at him. Finn love that ladies but even he had to admit the man was good looking. Pulling the phone to the side he looks at Finn. “ Yeah, we can’t do that. So what you want” the man asked.

“Sorry, sir. Here for Camille Dawson ” Finn asked. He looks at Finn strange and shook his head no. “ Wait, Jackson. No, we agree over golf you even sign by hole 5 the contract” he stops "Who are you" the man said looking at Finn confused. 

“Sorry. I think I got the wrong house. Camille does she live here” Finn asked embarrassed. “ Well, I just gonna have to email it to you. Check it out. I got another call. Bye. Camille what is wrong with her” the man asked texting.

A female voice sweet like honey came from behind him and open the door wider. “What happened did Jackson get it. Paula wants to do brunch when I go up this weekend to check on the Brandy account. She wants to know when you coming up so she can do a double date “she said not paying Finn any attention.

The man looks at Finn as he was left speechless. Gazing at the maturer woman. The man winks and kisses her on the lips and point at Finn. The sweet goddess of Finn dreams smile and look at him. “ Who are you. Why he wants Camille she okay” she asked. He shook his head. “Oh no. Your... Camille fine. I go to school with her. She said to come by” Finn said taking a deep gulp in. The two look at each other and whispers a bit to one another. “ She did. What you're her boyfriend?" she said with a giggle her long straight sugar blonde hair shake as she laughs. “ Honey I’m sure we would notice if she had one. Your not her boyfriend are you” he asked his eyebrows bend up a bit. “ No no. She just my partner. For class” Finn said tugging at his letter jacket. The man looked down at his phone and answer, walking away with the door open. “ Come in. Just sit down here. If she told you to come over why isn’t she with you“ she said looking at her phone. Finn glance away from her butt and simply said,” I play sports. So I came right after practice “. She nods and looks again at her phone. The man came back still on the phone. “Sports. I use to do sports guess” he said holding his hand to the phone. She smiles and hits his shoulder. “ Don’t embarrass us?” she said giving Finn a playful smile. The man waves his hand and walks over to Finn. “ I did high school and college Tennis and Rugby. Rank top of state too. That’s still a thing right” he asked. “Yeah yeah, it is” Finn said. They both nod their heads and continue on their phones not paying him any thought.

“ I called you” a soft voice said behind Finn. He glanced back away from the album he was looking at. It was her. She gracefully walks over to Will and kisses his cheek. They talk for a little bit before joining. “Hey ” Camille said dropping her purse onto the glass table. “ He came by looking for you. You told him to come by. Cam cam” Tina said kissing her on the cheek and went off back into the house. She stood still watching as Tina walk back inside then back at the guys.“So you're staying for dinner right Finn. I won’t take no for an answer. Finno" Will said checking his phone. “ Yes sir” Finn said smiling at Camille. 

She sat on the arm of Will chair and gaze at Finn. Shaking her head no. Will phone started to ring. “ Its Will. Alright, I’m going inside. Camille, you're in change do what I forget to say” Will said and walk inside talking on the phone. Camille slides into the chair and stares at him. “What are you doing here. Finn. You made it clear you didn't want to work together" she stops and looks down at a photo album. It was open to a young girl with a big smile with a crown on and a first-place ribbon. Happy moments.

“ I’m sorry. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m a stereotype ass. Cliche 90s jackass jock. But I’m working hard I even read the essay and have noted” Finn said holding out the paper. Camille sigh took the notes and glance over them. Finn studies her. " Anyway, it looks like someone got beauty and brains. I am sorry. I don’t apologize for much but I was a complete ASS. To you. I'm sorry. Cam cam. what did my friends do to you anyway?" he says closing the book. She opens her bag and takes out some books. " It’s nothing. Finn. Please don’t talk so loud they don’t know. Just how can I trust you. You have been pushing this off. I had to bust into a party and force you to work with me. I know you don't like this but. Help me help you" she says in a whisper.

He looks at her. It was weird how she talks to him. The truth was he was afraid of the truth. Camille looks at him then at the window. Her uncle was gone. She gets up and grabs Finn's hand. "Let’s restart. The only way this will work, we only have a few weeks. I think the fact that you look at me and I to you what they want us to see. I will try. Here we just two people. Me a pageant winner that now lover of books blah blah and so on and you" she stops lick her bottom lip deep in thought.

Taking his hand they walk over to an old treehouse in the back. She lets go and walks to an antique pink cart. “ When they got this place. There was this unfinished treehouse. We kept trying to finish it but it never happened. Everyone that comes signs it. Here were my parents' sign” Camille said pointing at two names.

He wanted to smile they been talking more than ever before. “Have your fun Finno. Your lucky they usually not here. I’m sure you got that” Camille said taking out a pen and notebook. “ I understand that. It’s like that at my house. When we are all there it’s just clipped art perfect family or - “ Finn started to say. “Silence” Camille finishes his sentence. “Yeah. Look I’m sorry about my friend at the party” Finn said. Camille glances back to the window. Will was in there talking while on the computer looking like he belongs in a fashion magazine. “ It’s alright. You were probably drunk somewhere. Nothing happened like that. Just the usual food was thrown at you nasty words and clothes being pulled” Camille said writing some things down like it was nothing. “ Why you being nice opening up. Normal “ Finn said. “Same as you. Finn let’s get to work” Camille says with a giggle. One that sounds more innocent than the seductive one her aunt had earlier.

They talk laugh and well just smile at each other, enjoying each other's company. Finn poking fun at Camille being a pageant kid Camille poke at him being a jock. As it got late Will came out washing his hands. “ Dinner cam come help set up alright. I got a few calls to make “ Will shoot out. Getting up from the ground Camille grabs her things. “ You're the guest. Just hang chill lax inside there drinks tv what not” Camille said. “ I’m gonna be in a minute just gonna check in with my parents “ Finn said taking out his phone. Camille nodded and started to walk in. Looking down at his phone he stops himself and walks over to the treehouse. It was covered in names quotes handprints. By the swing was an out-of-date pink tea tray with paint marks. Taking the paint he wrote his name by Camille. Finn Cox + Camille Dawson  

Camille was finishing up the table when he came in. Finn sat beside Camille with Will on the head and Tina on the other side. " Come over cam cam. Your classmate here on the hockey team. He Invited us to one of the games" Will said. Dinner was as imperfect as a dysfunctional family could be. But who would care ain't everyone's family just the same? However, it was different. Camille looks at Finn then at Will. Then back at her plate. Finn smirks at himself than continue eating. Will feeling awkward starts to speak. " So Finn-o have any plans after high school. You kids like seniors or something" he says looking at the both of them. Camille drops her fork and quickly glance at Finn." Uncle Will, we are only sophomores. I don't think Finn is thinking abo" she starts to say. Finn still eating looks at Will. " Get a full ride thanks to a hockey scholarship to Minnesota State. Where my major would be business. After I’m drafted within my years in college. I go to New York or Toronto or some top-five team and play for about 5-10 years. I get at less about six endorsements. Retire move back here respectfully with my trophy wife. Where I take over my family business" Finn said looking at his plate.

It was silent. " Well at less your going to New York or Toronto. Good teams there. Hope you don't forget about uncle Will when you become pro. But just wondering is that what you want to do. Or that what you told" Will says looking at Finn. Camille glance at Will then at Finn interested what he was going to say. Finn surprise shrugs his shoulders. He never really asked that. Something he doesn’t know the answer to. Camille feeling bad gets up and takes out a carton of strawberry ice cream from the freezer. " Ice cream anyone" she says holding ice cream and spoons.

After the awkward dinner. Camille walks Finn to the door. Finn smirks never left his face whole night and waves bye to Will and Camille. As he got close to his car he feels a soft hand on his shoulder. He turns around its Camille. She standing outside freezing. " Sorry about Will. He doesn't understand I guess us. He usually ... well always busy. Like my aunt. You know if you do something someone else wants you to do you will never learn or be able to love it. We are young. Most of us don't think about those things. Well...." she stops and rubs her hands together. " I was alright with you coming over. And I guess I see you tomorrow" she says giving him a gentle rub in the shoulder then walking back. He watches her going back inside to the door and stop to watch him drive off.

By the time Finn was able to get home everything but living room light was on. “Where have you been” dad asked. Finn stood by the doorway. “Huh, nothing after practice. I went to work on a project. I told you about it” Finn said rubbing the back of his neck. Dad nods his head and takes out another beer from the fridge. “Mom sleeping. Next time call us. Okay. Your brothers are not here which makes you the second commander. So start acting like it. A phone call or next time no car“ Dad said and walked to the bed. Finn tosses his bag on the floor and hops on his bed falling asleep thinking about Camille.

Nikkei waited for Finn outside his house the next day. Upset that he didn’t wait for her after cheerleading practice. “ So where were you yesterday. You had practice then you were gone” Nikkei said standing by his car with a few of her friends. Finn glanced down at his phone to see if Camille text him. “ I had to take care of my mom. What is one day going to do? I pick you up after today okay “Finn said. Nikkei rolls her eyes. “ We need a ride. Take us would you” she said chewing her gum. He could not understand how someone like Nikkei was who she was. “Oh, that reminds me to look at what I posted last night” Nikkei said looking back at her friends. She shoves it into his face, it was Camille waiting for the bus by herself. “ Come on I’m driving and maybe stop being a fucking ass. You could have been right with her if you didn’t have me being fuckin your taxi “Finn said underneath his breath. Her friends giggle. “ Well, she a freak and you know all freaks deserve to be put somewhere away from us normal people “Nikkei said. He hated she says that. Normal. He wanted to scream shit kick her and her minions out but he couldn’t that’s not what Finn the sweet boyfriend does.

He watched as each person walks by waiting with his school letterman jacket over his shoulder. Chewing on a string. He made up shortly after with Nikkei when they made out behind the stairs. Camille strolls in with an AC/DC sweater two sizes bigger of coarse thick leggings and some black army boots. He watches her as she went to her seat in homeroom. Turning his head over mouth hi to her even though she wasn’t paying attention. After a few minutes, she finally mouth hi back.

“ So I have to ask your aunt. What she a model. I wish I took a picture to show my friends. Camille sexy hot aunt” Finn said putting his books down the seat across from Camille. She looks around at the classroom everyone was working. “She not a model well not anymore. She did some modeling when she was young. You gonna work “ Camille said with her glasses tilt down. “ God damn” Finn said excitedly. Camille looks at Finn and shook her head. “ Wait you playing with me” Finn said tapping his pen. “ Isn’t that the point. What you and your buddies love to do. I know I’m a project but news flash you are too. And yes. She was a model” Camille said with a smile. Finn nod and look around. “ So why you said we are both projects “ Finn asked. She stares at him for a minute. “ Finn you think it strange she put us together. Anyway as you said before I was being a butt head” Camille said putting her hair behind her ear. “ What if we do that. This is me. What I am dealing with it. We are all different and unique ” Finn said excited pleased with himself.

Clapping her hands slowly, “Now Finno I think you had your first own idea”. Finn started to laugh into his sleeve trying not to pee himself. “ Alright, cam cam” Finn said smiling at her. It was like they had a secret. One only they both knew. He loves it. “ I got hockey practice I can’t miss so I guess no popup. Cam, can you do the essay? “ Finn asked grabbing his backpack. Camille looks up and nods okay.

Outside of class, they went their separate ways. He would see her around outside of class and before he would just glance and go on. Now it was different folks were starting to notice it.

Finn walks over to his gym locker and grabs his gear. Even though he was a sophomore he was captain of JV for two years and well probably be captain next season. Hockey was his outlet with everything school Nikkei friends and home. Before she became sick she uses to always watch his practice the games. “ Dude where was you at bro” Kevin said walking in with his blades. Closing his lockers,” Oh yeah the other day. I had to go home. Parents stuff. Riding me like a horse” Finn said slapping his hand. “ Yeah man sorry about that. Old man riding me too. I heard that guy you hit goes to the other school on their hockey team. Talking smack” Kevin said walking beside him. “ Nah don’t worry. Kev we got it. Let him talk shit. He is eating my ice chips by the time we are done” Finn said patting his back. As he blades hit that ice it was like stepping on the welcome home mate. Striding back and forth hitting each puck into the goal. He was himself before that stupid fight before Camille before it was all a show and Finn in his glory.

After practice, he and the guys went to the diner for some grub. Where he was the life of the party. Joking around laughing at the dumbest stuff. Just him and his brothers his friends. Later he caught up with Nikkei to do homework and making out. “ Hey, I’m sorry babe about before” Finn said putting his shirt on. Nikkei slides over and kisses his ear. He turns around and kisses her again. Camille he whispered into the kiss. Getting up quick he stops. The hell. Nikkei stood on her knees confused. “ The hell. Finn” Nikkei said pulling at his pants. “ Sorry” he said kissing her. Minutes pass and their phone started to vibrate. Quickly getting up again he stumbles putting his shirt back on. “ Sorry. I got an emergency. I call you later” Finn said kissing Nikkei on the lips.

Finn rush to the Northern Sky Hospital. She was getting so much better how could this have happened. Probably that selfish dick fault. His dad was outside talking to the doctor. Alright screaming at him. Demanding answers. “ Finn won't you go in there with your mom.  Me and dumb ass got some more talking “ dad said. Finn nod and walk inside. His mom was hooked up into IVs and a feeding tube. Sitting beside her he holds her hand. “ Finn it’s gonna be alright. Baby. I slip and your dad making a big deal” mom said weakly. Finn hop onto the bed lay beside her comb his finger through her hair. It looks a few days for his mom to talk him into going back to school which he dreaded. Everyone texted him what was up but only Camille was sincere about it. Which was different for him not wanting anything out of it.

“ Finn can you go and get me some soup and crackers from the Chinese spot I like. Before you come home” his mom texted. Text back fine and went to pack up his gym bag. Since the scare, he hasn’t talked to anyone outside of his mom and brothers to keep them each update. Even Camille was in the dark but he could tell she knew. How who knows but she knew. From the way she talked to him to how she acts. Nicer. Then those looks she would give when they saw each other in the hallway.

Pulling up to his driveway he stops to hear the radio inside booming and laughing. Laughter was one of those things that became foreign to him. Something that simply doesn’t assist anymore. He could hear his mom and dad laughing from the kitchen. “ Yes, then I remember seeing him just standing there mopping the floor with the toilet water in his little rocket diaper” mom said laughed. Finn walks in. His mom and dad stop talking. “Finn. Look who came over. She made these yummy cookies” mom said handing him one. Finn took and ate it. Damn it taste like heaven on one bite. “ It’s good. So huh Camille what are you doing here” Finn said surprise. “ Well, you did say that we should work on the project at your house. Like how you did at mine two weeks ago” Camille said with a smirk. Finn's dad got over and patted his back. “Great to see you hanging out with some people that got something going for themselves “dad said. “Mr. Cox your son be a great help to me. He even came up with the idea “ Camille said saving him from another burn. “ I invited her to stay over. She gonna help me cook wanna help too” mom said. Camille smiled and nod yes. “ Yeah but then we gotta work on the project “ Finn said grabbing a knife. Camille nod. “ I’m gonna call my uncle to let him know. He gonna wanna know what time to pick me up” Camille said taking her phone out. “ No. Finn take you home after dinner” mom said a huge grin. Camille looks at Finn.“ Yeah. Cam cam I take you” Finn said. Camille mouth thanks and left to make the call.

Mom looks around to make sure she was gone. She slapped him on the shoulder. “ I like her a lot. You think she has a boyfriend ” mom said with her hand on her hip. Finn started to blush he knew his mom wasn’t a fan of his girlfriends, especially with Nikkei. “That I know of no. She doesn’t “ Finn said. Mom sigh. “Girlfriend" she said. “ No. mommy. Why you ask wanna set her up with Brent” Finn asked. “ No. you. I like her for you. You don’t see but she good for you. Not like that other girl” mom said. Camille walks back inside right on cue. “ Mom did she tell you she uses to do pageants” Finn said. Camille glances up to him from cutting the carrots. “ Yes. She did. I show her your Boy Scout pictures. He doesn’t want anyone to know but he still apart of it to this day. Meetings every Wednesday night” mom said. “ MOM. Come on you cramping my style “ Finn said embarrassed. They all started to laugh together.

Finn sat in his chair swinging back and forth with Camille's feet cross on the edge of the bed. “ So I guess you got me back” Finn said. “I forgot about that. You didn’t seem like yourself so I came to check up on you” Camille said. “ So you care. And all this time I thought you were jealous of my charm “ Finn said jokingly. “ No. I’m just jealous you didn’t tell me about this brother of yours “ Camille said with an eat shit grin.  Damn did she look hot. Finn stops spinning in his chair and looks at her. Shit, she heard everything “ What you hear” Finn said coming closer to her. She had a sweet scent. She gazes in his eyes and started to laugh. “Yeah not gonna happen. I’m not telling you. Just next time tell your mom I like dudes and dudes alone” Camille said looking down. Finn nod and push back away. “Sure. And you would not like him he boring. Not cool like me, you know “ Finn said nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and said okay.

Finn sat next to Camille on the black leather sectional sofa with his mom sitting on the other end with dad. They sat together and watch a movie. He looks around at his family then his partner before he would have thought it was strange stupid. Now it something to this day he remembers as one of the happiest days of his life. Looking over his mom was lending on dad's shoulder. “Thanks, Cam cam" Finn whispers to her. She touches his shoulder softly and said any time Finno.

Finn waited for Camille in his car. She hugs both of them walk out towards the car. Mom rushes to her and passed her a paper and kiss her cheek. The drive was silent though the music that played on the radio. Finn turns it down and pulled to the side of the road. “ Look Camille I.. I “ Finn started to say. Camille turn to him put her finger to his mouth to stop him from going any further. “ Finn don’t worry. I won’t say anything” Camille said gazing at him placing her hand back on her lap. Finn ropes his arm around the back of the seat. “ Thanks. I don’t know why it’s a big deal. Honestly, they all don’t care. Stupid huh” Finn said with red cheeks. She sat facing him and nod her head no. “ It’s not stupid. At all Finn. It’s what you want. You should know your dad and mom are so proud of you. Like really really proud. That’s what we talked about before you came” Camille said sincerely. Finn nod. “Thanks. I haven’t seen them laugh in a long time. Then dinner. It’s like it was fake but real. My dad usually can’t stand being in the same room with us” Finn said. She looks at him. He knew what she wanted to say. “ My aunt and uncle never eat with each together either. If you could not tell from the way they act. Since I live with them we never even use that dining table. I don’t even think I ever had dinner night, to be honest. Finn in the future if you need someone to talk or to listen please call or text me. It is less gray hair for me “ Camille said softly rubbing her hand through her dark caramel curls. He smiled. No one ever did this before “ I keep that in mind. Thanks, Camille. It means a lot” Finn said. She looks away then again at him. “ My parents died in a horrible car crash. I was there when it happened too. I woke up bald to be told they were gone. Then to be giving to people who don’t want kids. I wish I could enjoy time with them even one second. That’s why I don’t want to tell them about the party. It just is one more thing they can probably believe is a problem” Camille said with sorrow. He never really saw much from her. Emotion. She probably never told a soul open up but he knew she was showing him it was okay. No matter what happening going to happen it will be okay.

Finn wiped his eyes and drove her home. She hugged him and whisper it be okay. Okay. Walking back inside he stops at his parents' room and covers them with a blanket. They were together. Dad wasn’t on the recliner mom wasn’t crying. No, they were at peace. One day and she change that like a heaven touch.

[holylulusworld]

My beloved stepmother – Part 2

Request: Hey can u write a series where the reader is Jensen’s daughter (but Danneel is her stepmother)? +angsty, arguments, fluff (17 years old)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter!Reader, Danneel, JJ

Warnings: arguments, angst, sad reader, adorable little sister

One month later…

Since Danneel said those words you keep your distance to her. Not a single word left your lips. You go to school and come back. Most of the time you eat at your best friends place or go to Gen and the kids.

Jensen told Jared what Danneel said and of course, he told Gen so. Since then Genevieve tried to play the mediator but this time it’s you refusing to give in.

One more year, only one more year…

Opening the door you see Danneel looking at you. Ignoring her like the whole last month you greet JJ and the twins, not her. Turning to go to your room you walk past her.

“Hey…aren’t you hungry?” She asks but you refuse to answer.

“Don’t you eat with us anymore?” JJ asks.

“No, Button I was invited by a real mom. Claire’s mom made pasta.”

“Did I do something wrong?” JJ sobs.

“No, Button you didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did Arrow or Zeppelin do something wrong. It’s just better this way. I’ll go to college soon and won’t live her any longer. My college is far away so some people will be relieved,” you say bitterly.

“Far away?” JJ asks.

“Sorry JJ. Someday you will understand,” you whisper kissing you little sister’s cheek.

Not knowing what to say Danneel still stands in the living room. Completely stunned.

She thought you wanted to go to a college nearby. Jensen will never forgive her for making you leave…he will hate her.

----

“No, you have to write 3,000 words not 2,000 Claire or Mr. Price will not accept your homework. I’ll help you tomorrow okay. No, it’s okay. I won’t go to the party. I don’t have a dress and I don’t have enough money to buy one. No, dad is filming and…you know…Bye…write the essay, Claire.”

“We could go shopping,” Danneel tries but you ignore her again. Turning around you write another line for your essay.

“Yay! Shopping! Come on, Y/N!” JJ squeals.

“No, JJ. I have homework to do. I need good grades to get a scholarship so dad doesn’t have to waste his money for my education,” you spat.

You heard Danneel and him fighting last year about college and that you can always go to a state college instead to an elite university.

“What’s a scholarship?” JJ asks.

“Well, money…you know. Dad doesn’t need to pay for my education so your mommy can buy shiny new things. I spared my money too so I can pay everything on my own.”

“Whoa…you got so much money?”

“No, only to survive the first weeks. Then I’ll look for one or two jobs, Button.”

“You know that Jensen will pay for your education, Y/N. You can concentrate on studying,” Danneel tries again.

“No. What did you say last year? ‘Jensen you shouldn’t waste so much money for he education. She can always go to a state college like other kids’. I’m not an actress. I want to become a doctor. Therefore I need a good no very good college. You can use dad’s money for your entertainment. I’ll get a scholarship and then I’m gone. I hope you’ll enjoy having another spare room.”

“Spare room? What’s that?” JJ asks again.

“My room will be empty, Button.”

“Empty…but where do you sleep and live then?”

“Not here, JJ. Not here.”

“But why? You can’t just leave, big sis! This isn’t fair!” JJ sobs now.

“Life ain’t fair. Sometimes you can do whatever you want but nothing is right. Some people just don’t like you, no matter how hard you try. Sorry JJ, but sometimes leaving is the only way out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“No, Button. Sorry. But I’ll call you, okay.”

“No, that’s not good enough! You have to stay here, Y/N. You can’t just leave me alone! You’re my big sis!”

“You know what Button? When I have spare time I’ll come to visit you and the Mixed Pickles. We can meet at Aunt Genevieve’s house, ‘kay.”

“Not here?”

“No, little sis…not here.”

“Why?”

“That’s complicated, Button.”

“As mommy doesn’t like you?” The little girl asks seriously and Danneel’s eyes widen. Even her little daughter recognized her behavior.

“Button?” You ask stunned.

“I’m not dumb! I heard what mommy said. You cried … Daddy had to soothe you. She’s never nice to you … that’s not okay,” JJ says looking up at her mother.

“Well, Button your momma ain’t my mom so she doesn’t have to like me. It’s okay JJ, I’m used to it. My real mom doesn’t like me either.”

“Why?”

“She has a new daughter. Just a few months younger than me.”

“You got another sis?”

“Hmm…”

“Is she nice like you?”

“Got no clue. My mom forbids me to meet her or to come to her house again.”

“Oh…why?”

“She has a new family, Button. My mom doesn’t need or wants me.”

“I should kick her shin!” JJ mutters.

“No, you shouldn’t hurt people Button, okay. That’s no good.”

“But she hurt you too!”

“Doesn’t matter, JJ. Promise you will never hurt people.”

“Promised.”

“Good, now I have to do more homework.”

“What about shopping?”

“You can go shopping Button. Have fun!”

“No, no…I want you to come with me! I won’t go if you don’t come with me,” JJ insists.

“You really are stubborn!”

“Like her big sister,” Danneel says smiling at you. Frowning you turn back around. You don’t need her false sympathy today.

“You don’t have to act all nice. Dad ain’t around.”

“Y/N. I’m trying, okay. Jensen is mad at me…I’m mad at myself. What I said wasn’t…this is unforgivable. I’m sorry. Can we not try to start anew?”

“What for? I’m gone in some months. No reason to act like you like me. It’s okay Danneel. I never had a mom so I don’t know how it is to have one.”

“I’m not your mom…but I could at least be a friend.”

“I don’t need a friend…I wanted a mom or at least a stepmother…”

Forever Tags

@donnaintx​, @screechingartisancashbailiff​, @fallen-wolf22​ , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat​, @sister-winchesters99​, @mogaruke​, @the-is13​, @helloitsmeamie203​, @strayrosesbloom​ , @thewinchesterco​ , @hobby27​, @kittycatlover18,   @gh0stgurl​, @marvelfansworld​ , @sandlee44​, @hawaiianohana15​, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt​​, @katpatrova17​​, @notyourtypicalrose​ , @heyitscam99​, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon​​, @flamencodiva​, @echoesofpassion​, @cocklesbelli​, @anushay1998​

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-thewinchesters​​, @love-my-not-natural-babies​, @supernatural-bellawinchester​​, @butifulsoul125​​, @lyinginthegingerlocks​​, @mirandaaustin93​​, @hawaiianohana15​​, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​, @20gayneen​, @x2closebut2farx​, @janicho88​, @thefaithfulwriter​

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, readers 18+

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of porn and sex work

Words in this chapter: 1800+

Author’s Note:

Here it is! Refer to my summary and introduction post if you haven’t done so for more disclaimers, visuals, tag list info, and more.

*Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles. This is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of the story will not be historically accurate and should not be taken extremely seriously.

Chapter 1

Already a month into the semester, Paul found himself struggling to keep up with his studies. He tried his best to focus on typing an essay on the history of guitars that’s due the next day by 10 a.m. but just couldn’t get himself to do it. Not like it was hard or anything; he just hated doing what he’s told, especially if it was something he didn’t care about. He just wanted to do music but having a degree is a necessity now.

He pressed the home button on his cracked phone screen to see that it was already midnight. He was only half way done with the assignment that could’ve taken him only 30 minutes if he wasn’t writing songs in between paragraphs.

It was all too much anyways. American universities have much more homework assignments than back in England. Times like these made him question whether or not going out of the country for school was worth it. There almost seemed like there were more cons than pros in his decision. He lacked resources, he didn’t have any friends or family here except his roommate/best friend George, he was poorer than ever, and must work and attend school part-time. If he stayed in Liverpool and just continued school locally, he probably would’ve earned his degree by now; but now he’s what Americans consider a “super senior” because he’s 21 years old with the amount of classes completed equivalent to a third year student. Despite the struggle, all of it was better than his father dictating his every move. 

He shut his laptop, giving up on the assignment and leaned back into his desk chair, rubbing his tired droopy eyes.

He had two classes and work tomorrow. The thought of them made him roll his eyes. Music history from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., a business class he couldn’t remember the name of from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., and work right after at a restaurant nearby as a dishwasher, and occasionally performer if the artist they booked cancelled that night.

He yawned as he got up and slide into his bed. Before shutting his eyes, he turned his head and looked directly across the tiny dorm room to his right to see his childhood best friend and roommate, George Harrison sound asleep.

Paul really needs to take a note out of George’s book and sleep earlier. These late nights are just stressing him out more and more.

***

“Paul….. PAUL! Get up!”

Paul jolted up right when a sudden raised voice rang in his ear. His eyes met George’s signature judgemental look. One of his thick brows cocked and his lips curved awkwardly. He was already ready to go to class.

“Ah, what time is it?”

“9:30. I woke you up 30 minutes before hand because I just know you aren’t going to get up to the 9:45 alarm unless you expect to make it to your first class in 15 minutes,” George teased.

George is a pain in the ass and a know-it-all, but Paul loved him dearly. He comes off mean sometimes but Paul knows it’s just because he’s younger and feels the need to prove himself. Paul was used to it after all this time but sometimes, that boy needs to know when his criticisms cross the line. Despite being a dick sometimes, they’re both grateful to be going to the same college together. It was one in a million chances for George to land the same US college as Paul just a year after Paul’s acceptance.

“Okay, whatever. You have a point, I guess.” Paul groaned and rolled out of bed. 

“I know I do, ha. I’ll see you later.” George messed up his friend’s darkhair more than it already was, making Paul swat his hand away.

When George left, Paul finally got ready and headed off to class with his incomplete essay.

Everyone was already seated and the professor was setting up today’s powerpoint lecture when he finally arrived. Paul sat down in the back where he’s been since the beginning of the semester. It hasn’t been a problem until a girl started to sit near him everyday since last week. When group or partnered work was assigned, she would often ask him to join her. She was kind, but Paul knew she liked him. She couldn’t make it less obvious. They would make small talk here and there---just about classes and hobbies. She was also very good at piano just as Paul was, but not too good on guitar though she claims to be.

He felt her looking at him, making him turn his head to find out he was right. She just smiled and waved. Paul nodded and gave her a small smile in return, trying not to show too much emotion, afraid she would like that too much. She already had the wrong idea but he didn’t want to be mean about it. Paul was not interested in the slightest and, he was gay. Found that out in high school and hasn’t been too shy about it since then. 

When class ended, Paul left immediately to his second class to avoid conversation with anyone. This next one was business related which is something he also could care less about. He was a bit behind in this one too, but this time, he truly didn’t understand the material. He definitely needed a tutor soon.

Not much happened other than him writing mini poems all over his in-class assignment. He didn’t even bother erasing any of it before turning it in at the end of class.

Paul sighed as he made himself to his busboy job right off campus. Before stepping inside, he felt his phone vibrate. It was his dad. Ugh, he thought but answered.

“I’m about to go into work, Dad. What is it?”

“Well, hello to you too. I was just wondering how the first month in the states have been. I haven’t heard from you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? Have you got a chance to tour places? You should send me photos.”

“No and no. I don’t want you to be sending the pictures to your friends as if you helped me get here. I know you do that.”

Paul heard his father sigh.

“Just text me when you get home and tell George I said hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Paul said before hanging up and walking into his shift.

It seemed harsh but his dad was a selfish prick. He loves to be in control of everything. He was the reason Paul came to the states to study. All he wanted was to ride the wave of success his two sons have been achieving.

In all truthfulness, Paul stopped believing his dad’s bullshit after mom died about 6 years ago. His dad seemed to have lost his way but Paul couldn’t be around all the time if he had a dream to follow. It’s been rough without his mom around but Paul had to do what he was right for him, even if that meant getting away from his dad which is something even she would’ve supported.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how irritating school and his dad were during his shift. The rude coworkers and customers didn’t help his case at all. This wasn’t new though. Paul was used to working constantly in some shape or form. The only problem this time is that he needed more money now that he’s completely independent from his father.

“Hey, busboy!” his boss called out to the dishroom from the back office. Paul rolled his eyes and went to see what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“I have to cut your hours in half. Here is your new schedule. You’re off now, so don’t wash another dish.”

“In half?” Paul took the schedule and saw that his income now would not suffice his monthly tuition payments, let alone some money for necessities. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Why?”

“We can’t afford to pay you. I’m sorry, kid.” he said nonchalantly.

“Will I be able to perform sometimes still?”

“Ehh, sure.” he said as he continued his paperwork, not even looking at Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes again. Could his life get any more annoying? He let out a sigh and clocked out. Now what, he thought making his way home.

When he got home George was playing his computer games with his big headphones to fit on his large ears. The younger man didn’t even notice his friend come in until one side of his headphones was pulled and slapped against his head.

“Hey!” George readjusted himself then paused his game to face Paul with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“My hours got slashed.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, hah.”

George frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you going to find another job?” 

“Well, I’m going to have to because I will not be asking my dad for help.” Paul said as changed into his pajamas and hopped onto his bed.

George sighed. Paul just stared at his friend for a moment, not knowing what to say. This was bad news for both of them. George didn’t have the same financial issues as Paul did. He only had enough for himself. If George could help, he would---and Paul knew he would.

“I’ll think of something, George. Don’t worry.” Paul got under the covers and listened to his friend shut off his computer and lights before hopping into bed as well.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed, then began to think about all the ways he can make money quickly but none of it would be fast enough to pay his next tuition bill. He rubbed his eyes. It was beginning to stress him out the more he thought of it and he just wanted it to all stop for a second.

Ah fuck it, he thought before whipping out his phone and started to scroll through his favorite porn blog on Tumblr. What better way to forget about things than looking at some sexy pictures of guys?

Paul scrolled until he ran into a post that was by a male sex worker selling nude photos and thought hard to himself. It was a young guy about his age selling his photos for $25 a piece and a private snapchat story for $5 per friend request and $15 extra for screenshot privileges.

Paul bit his lip nervously. It’s been a couple years since he did sex work. All he did was some cam work, sold some nude photos, and made customized videos for people on the internet. He remembered enjoying it but there was always the parts he hated that made the job extremely draining like any other job.

He laid there staring at the screen. He must admit, it was tempting to dive in again but he was afraid what George would think.

“George… Maybe I should go back into sex work…” Paul said suddenly.

George didn’t reply. He just snored in in response. That bastard.

Paul sighed and continued to scroll through sex work blogs, inspired by the possibilities until he slowly drifted to sleep.

-

Tag list:

@nowandthenoldfriend

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 17

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Chapter 10, Chapter 15, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): Happy school year in two weeks, folks.

Not gonna lie, I actually had a plan for this chapter, and then forgot it. So... yeah, not the most cohesive or best chapter, but I got it out, and it’s nice, and I like it this way because it’s a break from the wave of panic attacks and mild transphobia the last chapter or two.

Yes, I’m back home now, and I’m doing actually much better mentally and physically than I have since September till June. But the chapters are gonna take a while longer to write from now on, because I’m about to join the scary world of job searching for the unstable ADHD brain, not to mention being involved in three regular ttrpg campaigns (where I play a halfling sorcerer, and a half-elf bard, and also DM the third one), so... my brain is busy. But I promise this fic isn’t going on hiatus! I’m still extremely dedicated and excited to be writing this fic. I love it so much. Honest.

As per every chapter, thanks go to @whatwashernameagain for KHS and for generally being a wonderful human, to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for putting up with my fangirl-levels of excitement over everything (and coming up with the original idea), to @winglessnymph, @asleepybisexual and @anony-phangirl - who, while I know they’ve all fallen out of the loop, continue to have long-lasting effects on this fic as a whole - and new to this list, to @ilovemygaydad, who I’ve asked to beta this fic for me and I hope they’d have time for that starting with the next chapter.

Happy start of college and good luck, my darling dear child. I love you.

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @sweet-and-sour-shadowling, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @violetblossem, @maybe-i-like-the-misery, @book-of-charlie, @thatsanswitch, @thatrandomautist, @thebiggestgaypirate, @marshmallow-the-panda

(Wanna be tagged? Lemme know!)

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter is light on the transphobia, but includes aphobia, deadnaming, panphobia (yes, pansexuality was a term in the early 00s, as I learned just half an hour ago) and vague mentions of child abuse.

—————

Sunday, July 27th, 2003

Incoming call: 218-357-5555

"Ye—"

"Remy? I didn't forget your number? Oh good!"

"...Emile?"

"Yeah?"

"...what's this phone number, darling?"

"Oh! Yeah, I… my phone died, so I got a new one! Sorry I didn't tell you sooner… but, umm, I'm gonna get to the point, yeah okay, happy birthday!"

"Thank… you…? Em, you shouldn't have—"

"Ah, but see, that's where you're wrong! Because I had to, because I said that I have to! You're my best friend in the whole world, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least call you to say happy birthday?"

"You're precious, darling."

"Thank you! Oh, did you get my gift yet? I sent it to you in the mail last month! Did you—"

"I did, it was… well, it was unexpected, I'd give you that. Where did you even find a Jack mug anyway?"

"Disneyland…?"

"...you know what, that's fair."

"Yeah! So, happy birthday! I'll be in Manhattan next week, so like… do you wanna go see a show or something…? I haven't seen the Gypsy revival yet…"

"...it's a date, then. But you're paying."

"Yes, yes of course! It's gonna be alright, okay? You trust me?"

"With my life."

"Yay! Okay, okay, umm… yeah. I miss you! Happy birthday!"

"Thank—"

"I gotta go right now at this second it's my cousin's bat mitzvah in two days and I need to get my suit and everything but I'll call you tomorrow evening too okay?"

"Sure… have fun, darling."

"Thank you! Okay, bye!"

—————

"India M—"

"Why didn't you tell me Emile has a new number? I cannot fucking believe you!"

"He wanted to do it himself, peach. On your birthday."

"Okay… okay, I guess that's fair…"

"Happy birthday, too."

"Thanks, mom…"

"So… how'd you spend the week?"

"Nothing big happened… my dad took me to see Nina West last night. It was the fucking best."

"I'll bet. Did you have fun?"

"So much fun! She's fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly. I'd give anything for her to either do me or spare a bit of her funny to me."

"Wow… gay much?"

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, it's fine. I still need to take Jenna to a drag show sometime. Did anyone hit on you…?"

"You'll be surprised how many people hit on my dad, actually. But no. I actually broke up with Chris today because of this."

"Oh? Do tell."

"It wasn't… much. He called me a couple hours ago to say happy birthday, which is fine if you ask me but I just… it ended in him trying to talk me into not talking to Emile again. And that's normal, okay, ain't something I can't handle. But he said ‘sure he's asexual, when he isn't spreading his legs to everyone he's asexual'."

"...did he seriously think he can get away with it?"

"India, no—"

"I don't give a fuck anymore, peach. I'm not going to beat him up, you have nothing to worry about, I just… this shit is so fucking infuriating!"

"I know. But hey, look at the bright side. Ulysses and Mandy said they'll take over next year, I'm gonna let them know. He won't be back."

"That's… that's true. I'll call Mandy later. Don't worry about it. Just… what then?"

"Then I told him that it wasn't his choice, he didn't choose any of it, so he said ‘just like you couldn't choose to stay a girl, Rebecca'."

"...oh yeah. Yeah, definitely. I'm telling Mandy. She'll deck him for sure next time she sees him."

"Thanks, mom. I just… I so wanted to deck him right then! So I gave him a piece of my mind, broke up with him and hung up and deleted his number. Now we wait and see what's gonna happen."

"Good boy. I taught you well."

"Thanks… again… he also said that asexuality isn't real, and—"

"I'm flying down to Texas right now to sock him. I took karate for three years. I can do this."

"India, no… hon. Babe. You need to get settled in DC. You need to—"

"I'm buying the plane tickets right now, Remy! Watch me!"

"—You need to get your life together and get your master's degree. You do not, however, need to go break the nuts of someone who doesn't deserve your attention—"

"Who's the older and wiser one of us?"

"Right now? Not you. You told me this very thing when I wanted to kill that asshole who made a joke out of Emmy, I'm telling you this now. Don't."

"...fine. But if I ever do get the opportunity, I'm doing it."

"Good for you."

"Nobody plays my kids dirty like that."

"You go, mom."

"I will! Oh shit, I have to go!"

"What? Why—"

"I forgot Jenna's parents are coming over today and I need to go pick them up from the airport. I'll call you later to keep catching up, okay peach?"

"Okay, but—"

"Awesome, happy birthday, we love you! See you in two weeks!"

"...see y—"

—————

"...Remy?"

"Good evening, Linda… where's Leah?"

"...and here I thought you called to talk to me. But I suppose I'm only your mother, nothing—"

"Mom, please, I'll talk to you after I tell Leah something really important."

"Alright, I'm sorry. But you got the package we sent you, didn't you?"

"I did, I… I just don't understand. You painted that…?"

"Who else would sign my name on a canvas, Remy?"

"You're… right. I'm sorry. It's very nice. Thank you."

"Happy birthday, son."

"Thank… you…"

"...hello?"

"Leah…? Leah, sweetie, can you hear me?"

"Remy! Oh, oh oh oh Remy I told you I'd tell you about my camp and—"

"And how was your time at camp? Take a breath and then tell me."

"Okay! Okay, so, so we were in the woods, and in cabins, and I kinda wanted to sleep in tents but it didn't happen and it was kinda disappointing but I can always do that later, and…"

—————

August 2003

There was a blackout as Remy was trying to write an essay Dr. Gilliam asked of his class.

So his dad put him on a bus to Georgia, which is why he's making do right now at doing his schoolwork with two children running around.

"We gotta go bowling too!" Leah whispered excitedly. For the fifteenth time this hour. "And then we need ice cream, and, umm, I know where the puppies are, and—"

"Leah, love, I need to finish this essay for school right now. Give me a couple minutes, about twenty, and I'll be with you, okay?"

"Okay!"

Remy couldn't be happier to be there at that moment. He had a plane ticket booked to Boston, his rooming was already set at Lowell, the papers have all been set and he was about to room with Emile, Mandy called him the other day to ask if he'd like to help her run the queer society meetings (and of course he said yes)...

And then there was a crashing sound. And a crying toddler sound. And he had to put his laptop aside to go check on Rachel.

More like run to the kitchen to check on Rachel, who was now standing in front of broken pieces of cheap china and bawling her eyes out.

"No, sweetie, it's okay…" he picked her up and started playing with her hair, hoping to calm her down. "We're gonna clean this, okay? What were you doing with the plate?"

"Tea party!"

"You wanna have a tea party?" She nodded, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "Okay… okay. Let's wash your face, then pick up the pieces, and then make some tea and have a tea party with your dollies. Okay, love?"

She nodded again, and he kind of had no choice. So he did what he said he'd do, sitting Rachel down in her high chair as he cleaned the broken pieces, and for a moment, he felt like an absolute idiot. He felt like he was his mom.

Well… like Rachel was his mom, and the plate was him, and he was his dad, and holy fuck Emile's show analysis habits have definitely had an effect on him and he really should stop thinking about all this ridiculousness right now.

"Remy?" Leah whispered from behind him as he was picking up the shards. Rachel was entertaining herself, rather unaware of what's going on. "Is daddy gonna be mad?"

"I—" He had to stop. And think before answering. "I don't think so, honey."

"But a plate broke…"

"...he doesn't have to know. It was just a plate. He doesn't count the plates in the cupboard, now does he?" She shook her head, her hair flying everywhere. "So he won't know. Because we won't tell him."

"Okay. I can do that."

"I know you can do that, hon. Now, how about you get your roller skates and we'll go to the park?"

"But you said tea party…"

"We can have a tea party after the park. Rachel, do you wanna go to the park?"

Rachel, who up until then mostly minded her own business, looked over and started nodding with a big smile on her face.

"So we can go to the park and then have a tea party. Where's your roller skates?"

—————

Saturday, August 30th, 2003

"It's always nice to see new faces at the queer society meetings," Mandy said with a huge smile on her face as she balanced the clipboard on her knee, Remy holding her iced coffee. "I'm glad you all could make it today. Now, let's do a name round. Everyone state your preferred name - please no dick jokes, we have people who are very uncomfortable with those in this group as well - and what brings you here, and a small fact you'd like people to know about yourself if you'd want to."

Remy just kept looking over the room. Mandy had this all under control, already having printed out a list to put everyone's names and contacts in for if they need to. India trained her well.

From the corner of his eye, Remy could see Emile bouncing in his seat.

"I'll go first. Hi, I'm Amanda, I go by Mandy, I'm pansexual—"

"That's not a real word," someone called out. Remy did his best not to glare at the person.

He was pretty sure it's Chris.

"Pansexual is a word, Christian," Mandy replied, not even looking at him. "It was coined before your grandmother was even born. Anyway, I'm Mandy, I'm pansexual, and I'm in this wheelchair today because I have fibromyalgia and today is a very bad pain day. Who wants to go next?"

It was the same old sharing circle. Some people elaborated more, some people chose not to. Emile went ham on sharing, telling everyone he was gay and asexual and talking about his bunnies at length, looking as proud as he can be.

And then it got to Remy. And he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was last year.

"I'm Remy, I'm gay and transgender, and my therapist said I can start hormone therapy this year."

[flowerpowell]

Meet-Cute (Drake x MC)

PART TWO

Guess who’s here!!! I’m back after a long break in writing and I hope I didnt forget how to write yet. Meet Cute has gotten the most votes and here it is BUT because I have a little bit more free time now I might have written something else... For now, enjoy the second chapter of Meet-Cute and tell me what you think! Tags are at the end! Feedback is always appreciated!

I dont own the characters, they belong to Pixelberry.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake x MC

Rating: PG-13, absolutely nothing scandalous

Word count: 1275

Drake.

She’d recogonize these eyes everywhere.

The eyes of the man she fell so hard for. The eyes of the man she’d spent the last two years trying to forget. The eyes of the man who hurt her. The eyes of the man she still loved, not matter how hard she tried not to.

And here he was, staring at her, confusing her classmates and making her feel as if the time stopped.

“Ahem.”

Someone cleared their throat and she quickly broke the eye contact. “I’m sorry,” she said shoving her phone into the bag. Nadia will have to wait.

Remembering his surroundings, Drake shifted his attention back to the attendence list and started calling out the names again.

Riley pretended she didn’t see confused looks on her classmates’ faces. She felt Luke staring at her but only shrugged lightly hoping it’d stop the questions. It wasn’t the right time for them. First, she needed to ask her questions. What was Drake doing here? Why did he change his name? Since when he was even interested in history? Why isn’t he in Cordonia? Was he looking for her? Does he...still feel something for her?

Riley was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear what Drake, wait, no, Dean, was saying. She looked at him but he wasn’t even looking in her direction. If she didn’t know him better she would think he was avoiding looking at her. But then again, she really didn’t know him. Not anymore.

“...Does anyone know the answer for this question?” Drake asked as the classroom remained silent.

She bit her lip at how awkward everything was. If only she could run away and never come back.

No, wait. HE can run away. I’m staying. I need this degree.

“Maybe Miss Brooks? Spencer?” Drake repeated, stressing her fake name, and Riley realized he was talking to her.

Right. I’m Spencer.

“Umm...what was the question again?”

She risked a brief look at him but he was already staring at her, coldly, as if he was mad. He probably was.

“I asked, what do you think we need history for? What is the point of studying it?”

“I-I think,” Riley started, “it’s just important to know about our past and about everything that happened cause in some way, it shaped us.”

“Yes. Anything else?” He asked still looking at her.

What else?

“To avoid repeating the same mistakes?” Luke joined trying to save Riley. She thanked him silently as Drake narrowed his eyes.

“And you, Miss Brooks? Do you think your history, everything you did, taught you something?”

“Umm, yes? I think so.” she replied slighly confused.

“And if you could go back in time, would you do something differently?”

She was taken aback by his question. This was definitely not something a teacher should ask but she knew what he meant. She knew what he wanted to hear. Everyone was silent and waited for her response.

“No,” she heard her own voice speaking from the bottom of her heart, “I wouldn’t.”

Drake raised his eyebrow, “You wouldn’t? Anything?”

“No. I don’t regret anything. Because all my decisions, either right or wrong, made me who I am today. And I like that person.” she said confidently.

“Of course,” Drake shook his head and turned his attention to another student.

“Is everything okay? Do you know this guy?” Luke whispered to her when Drake was telling everyone what his course would look like.

“I don’t, I guess he didn’t like my being on my phone instead of listening,” she lied smiling reassuringly. No one can know.

“Mister Harrington, if you want to talk to your lady friend maybe you can do it after my classes, or prefarably, never.” Suddenly Drake was right in front of them, freezing them both with his stare.

What’s his deal?

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll talk to her later,” Luke apologized and Drake only frowned.

“If I catch you talking during my classes again, you both will get an extra essay to write, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” both Riley and Luke answered, Luke ashamed and Riley clearly angry.

She heard muffled murmurs of her classmates, talking about how strict and annoying this new teacher is and Riley decided she needed to talk to him.

The class was nearing to an end when she felt a piece of paper slipping under her notebook. She unfolded it and read:

I’m so sorry for getting us caught with prof. Stagger. Are you okay?

Glancing quickly at Drake, she wrote back to Luke:

I am, it’s okay. I’ll talk to him after classes and apologize for using my phone, maybe it’ll help.

Do you want me to come with you?

No, I’ve got this. Don’t worry.

“Okay people, that’s it for today! Make sure to read pages 5 to 25 for the next class and see you in two days!”

Riley was packing her stuff as slowly as she could while she was watching her classmates saying “bye” to Drake and leaving the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked when there was no one in the classroom anymore.

“Hello to you too, long time no see,” he answer mockingly which made Riley even more mad.

“I won’t repeat it twice so listen; stop harrasing my new friends just because you’re angry with me, for whatever stupid reason you came up with, understand? I won’t let you ruin my future!”

“Ruin?!” He exclaimed. “I’m ruining your future? How about you ruined my life when you decided to take off without telling anyone? How about you ruined Liam when he realized you were gone? How about you ruined my hope when I was looking for you for almost two years and found nothing?!”

He moved his hand towards her but his hand froze in the air, fighting the urge to touch her, hug her, make sure she was real, that she was okay, knowing she needed the space.

“How about you all ruined me in the first place?!” she yelled back and before he could react she took her bag and stormed out.

How could he talk about it as if didn’t hurt me? How could he only talk about himself? He’s such a child! I don’t want to see him ever again! I’m changing my course if he’s not changing his job. I’m--

“Spencer?”

She turned back to see Luke standing right next to her. She wiped her tears and smiled to him.

“Hey.”

“Are you crying? Did this idiot do anything to you?” He asked examining her face.

“No, no. I just had a small argument with him, I’ll be fine.” she turned to leave but Luke stopped her.

“If you’re sure...We can always report him. Just say a word, he can’t treat you like that just because you were on your phone!”

She chuckled, “I guess he can’t. Thank you Luke, really.”

Riley started walking away when she felt his fingers around her wrist.

“Actually...I was wondering... would you like to go on a dinner with me? Or coffee, or anything you’d like really...”

“Like a date?” she suggested and he smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, like a date. And as a sorry for talking to you during the Mr Almighty Dean Stagger’s classes.”

In the corner of her eye she Drake who must have followed her. He was listening and she was sure he heard everything.

“I’d love to.”

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I’ve tagged people from my perma tag, TRR tag, Drake tag, those who wanted to be tagged in continuation under the first part of Meet-Cute, as well as those who voted for Meet-Cute! Let me know if you want to be added or removed from any of my tag lists

[aliferous-ly]

Ambitious

this was a fic long in the making.... it’s,,, pretty personal but i want to post it so lol. me in math

Summary: “Virgil, ironically, religiously completed his homework while Logan finished much of it two or one night before the test (when the homework packet was checked to gain the option of correcting a test). Logan’s approach was not at all systematic, but had worked thus far. 

Well... until, that is... calculus.”

Words: 1860

Genre: it’s angst. not like, heavy themes angst just... yeah. 

Pairing: platonic analogical ig, mainly none

Warnings: LOTs of self deprecating thoughts in here. incompetency , etc. mentions of thorns (metaphorical), sharp thorns. virgil forgets to take care of himself. it’s not a satisfying ending, and if there’s anything else please tell me!

Tags: @sassy-in-glasses @rose-gold-roman @justanotherpurplebutterfly @anxious-but-whatever @echomist13 

“You’re too ambitious for your own good.”

Logan blinked and frowned, hands curling into the fabric of his backpack. “Sorry?”

“Dude, TA? What are you even doing with your life?” Roman said, laughing and shoving grapes into his mouth at the same time. “You barely have enough time as is, I can’t imagine yet another responsibility...”

“I’m fine, I have plenty of time,” Logan said, waving his hand. He spent needed time on classes, yes, but no more than he should be.

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that,” Roman said. “You’re crazy good at managing time.”

Logan nodded uncertainly. “I keep a planner and don’t procrastinate.”

“That is such a lie and you know it,” Roman said, laughing. “How many social studies essays have you bullshitted on the last day?”

Logan sniffed. “I’d say about five.”

Roman snickered and knocked shoulders with him. “Alright, Einstein. How’s math with the Virge?”

“Calc is... fine,” Logan said. He stared at his sandwich, a gross knot of feelings tightening in his gut.

“Calculus sounds so hard,” Patton said, entering the conversation after watching their back and forth.

“It is hard.” Logan sighed, and leaned his cheek on his palm, elbow propped up on the table. “I don’t understand anything. The lessons are quick and complex, it’s hard to keep up, especially with everything else going on right now.”

“Yeah, you have a busy week,” Patton said sympathetically. “But you’ll be okay! You’re our smart Logan, you’ll get it!”

A thorn jabbed into Logan’s chest at the statement, a growing vine of sharp points twisting and squeezing. “...Yeah.”

He tapered off and took a bite of his sandwich, letting Roman take the wheel of the conversation and explain the newest drama between Remy and Nate, who everyone thought were going to get together despite Remy’s obvious infatuation with band nerd Emile Picani.

Logan listened attentively, the thorn twisting deeper and deeper.

—

“See ya after school,” Roman said, waving as he left for spanish.

“Bye,” Logan said, heading off to class. He moved around a line of girls walking on the wrong side of the hallway.

Roman’s earlier statement kept bouncing around in his head – was he too ambitious? He knew he was ambitious, yes, but...

Well, as least he wasn’t actually a TA, just a helper around his old english teacher’s class in his free period. Many times he was there to receive help from her for his new, more advanced english class.

But... he would spend more time teaching other kids, helping around a classroom, than he would studying, which cut into more time at home...

Logan mentally shook himself. No need to focus on that now.

“Hey.”

Logan glanced to the right and saw Virgil meandering alongside him, a crooked grin set on his face.

“Hi,” Logan said back, nodding his head in greeting. “Ready for calc?”

“No,” Virgil said, snorting. “Never.”

“That’s fair,” Logan said. His hands clenched a little tighter around his backpack straps. “How do you think you did on the test yesterday?”

“Dude, you should’ve seen me taking it,” Virgil said, spreading his hands in front of him, palms down, as he spoke. “My hands were clutching the pencil so hard. If he can read my equations it’s a miracle. I think I almost passed out.”

“That’s... not good,” Logan said. He frowned in thought. “Was the stress that much for you? Perhaps a different form of test could be done...”

“Nah, just a lot of little things, y’know? Didn’t eat or drink much, got maybe three hours of sleep from studying all night...”

“Oh,” Logan said, falling silent. “That’s... still not good.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, screwing up his face. “I know.”

“Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

“No.”

“Water?”

“...also no.”

“Have my water bottle,” Logan said, reaching behind himself and hooking his finger on the loop of his water bottle. “I think I have an extra in my locker from last week.”

“I...” Virgil stared at the bottle shoved into his chest and grabbed it to stop it from crashing to the ground. “I can’t take this.”

“Then throw it away,” Logan stated firmly. He walked into the calc room, cutting off the conversation for a few seconds. Virgil mumbled something, playing with the hard plastic of the bottle absentmindedly.

He and Virgil had been in the same math class since sixth grade, save the last year when they’d been devastated to learn they’d have to take pre-calculus without one another. They knew each other’s ups and downs, they knew how the other functioned in relation to math.

Virgil, ironically, religiously completed his homework while Logan finished much of it two or one night before the test (when the homework packet was checked to gain the option of correcting a test). Logan’s approach was not at all systematic, but had worked thus far.

Well... until, that is... calculus.

Calculus.

How he hated calculus.

The test had been more difficult than any test he remembered in math, and it was only the first one. His teacher was more than understanding. In fact, Logan had spent an hour and a half with him after school, working through homework problems and such, and his teacher had – on multiple occasions – mentioned that it was okay to not do well right off the bat. It was okay to not understand.

Calculus was not like other math.

“Are we getting the tests back today?” Logan said numbly, sliding his backpack off his shoulders and settling into the chair.

“God, I hope not,” Virgil mumbled, face down on the table. “I don’t want to face my failure just yet.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Logan said, wrinkling his nose. “I just want to know what I got and be done with it. I’ll be stressing all weekend otherwise.”

“Even if you get a bunch wrong?”

Logan laughed. “You mean when I get a bunch wrong?”

Virgil grinned at him. “Oh what a mood.”

Logan cracked a smile back, but before he could reply, the teacher was talking and class had begun. They exchanged a few more quips in lulls or when they were working on problems.

Only... Logan didn’t get it. He didn’t understand any of the problem... sure, he could type it into his calculator just fine, and sure, he could calculate the height and time and so forth, but he didn’t understand what his teacher was actually trying to teach – the theory behind it. The why. Normally Logan’s favorite part.

“Any questions? You’re good?” the teacher asked the class, examining everyone to make sure he’d gotten through to them.

Please repeat that entire explanation but slower and more thoroughly, Logan thought pitifully.

“Alright, then, with that...” he continued on, writing on the smartboard. Every so often he would pause and ask for the answer to a particular question and someone would shout it out. Only heaven knew how they knew the answer, because Logan felt like they could’ve asked what seven minus nine was and Logan would have to take a dozen seconds to figure it out.

He struggled through the three simple practice problems and when the teacher went through them he numbly wrote the answers and the process, trying trying trying to comprehend what it all meant, what the numbers on the page equated to and which belonged to where and how this all applied –

“Now, I won’t be giving this equation twice. This is the only time I’m giving it to you,” his teacher said, laughing a bit. Logan felt like weights were slowly attaching themselves to the vine around his lungs, dragging his heart lower and lower.

Virgil was dutifully jotting all the notes down, handwriting a little jumbled. Logan tried to focus on his paper, the lines starting to run together and his hand shaking between his fingers. I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Why don’t I understand?

Logan wrote down a few more notes, trying to make sense of the equation set before him, the equation given at the beginning of class, the equation he’d learned all about not five minutes before. I don’t understand I don’t understand I don’t understand

I’m stupid. Logan was familiar with the voice in his head and he made sure he copied everything from the teacher. Maybe he could relearn it in another hour. Maybe then he’d be okay. Why did he take this class? I’m stupid, why did I take such a hard class?

Logan considered himself relatively smart, all things considered. He managed to get into many advanced classes, shooting himself two years ahead of his peers in math. Virgil, along with other math students his age whom he’d learned to recognize relatively consistently, had also been thrown forward two years.

One semester of calculus in two semesters or two semesters of calculus in two semesters?

At the time, it’d barely been a question. Of course he’d take the most advanced class – he was Logan Sanders. He didn’t shy from a challenge, and wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he took the one in two. He needed max college credits.

I don’t understand I don’t understand I don’t understand

Too ambitious for my own good

“Ha, I barely understood any of that,” Logan said weakly as they were packing their things.

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah. It’ll make sense soon. You’ll probably learn while taking the test, knowing you.” He ended the statement with a quick burst of laughter and Logan smiled back, lips wobbly and nervous.

He had a tendency to do that in pre-calc, not quite understanding the content until the test itself, but even he could realize that calculus – at least, the one he was taking – was on a completely different level.

I don’t understand I don’t understand

Logan was crouched by his backpack, zipping everything back up, when the thought struck him like a bullet. I’m not smart enough for this class.

He’d never been not smart enough for a class. Teaching incompatibilities, perhaps, or the content needed a bit more work than instant comprehension, but never completely missing the lesson, the point of the lesson. Math built on itself; losing a lesson was like losing a vital block while building a tower, and when a great wind blows the tower must stand strong.

The thought struck him so strongly and quickly that he couldn’t move for a few long seconds. Virgil rustling around in his bag brought him back to the present and he stood, long legs shaking imperceptibly.

Logan shifted on his feet. “Ready to go?” At least his voice sounded natural.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and stalking out the door, eye on Logan.

Logan followed but couldn’t bring himself to speak, a lump settling in his throat and refusing to budge.

They walked in silence.

Logan could barely breathe.

I’m not smart enough for this class.

A bit too late, huh?

Too bad if you drop you’ll be the utter disappointment. You want to go into a math career, and you’re going to fail calculus? What a joke.

Logan shuddered and parted from Virgil, who was headed to his chem class.

I’m not smart enough for this class.

Too ambitious.