#should i have did my ap homework instead?

[marjorie-88]

[notablytrustableindividual]

Band Rants #2 - Far Caspian

Sorry for the delay for the 0.63 people who care, the last week has been not great, and I've been barely holding on. As I write this, it is 2:53 am on a Saturday, and I'm drinking tap water out of a Nicholas Cage mug in the dark.

Anyways, back to music.

There were several bands in somewhat similar styles I almost wrote about instead. Slaughter Beach, Dog and their transformation from Midwest Emo to Indie Rock to Folk (The reverse Wilco, as I like to call it) or Peach Pit, who did something similar with an odd yet fun discography. In a more pop vein, I also considered Rotel Otis, who I started listening to when they were on the Fresh Finds playlist, and whose ability to pump out fun single after fun single confuses me to this day.

But instead I settled on Far Caspian, a band that is a bit harder to pin down. So what is Far Caspian, and why should you care about them?

First, Far Caspian is an Indie Rock/Pop Project led by Irish multi instrumentalist Joel Johnston, who has released 3 Eps, and a full length Album. Their first Ep, Between Days, cane out in 2018. The Heights followed in 2019, and their first full length Album, Ways To Get Out, dropped in 2021.

I am not mincing words when I say Far Caspian is some of the most relaxing, aesthetically pleasing music I've ever heard. Listening Between Days feels like lying on top of a ridge and staring out, relaxed. It's music that makes everything feel fine, even when it's not.

Of course, I will admit some bias in this. Far Caspian has been comfort music for me for years now. I used to sit in the library of my school during lunch, surrounded by ornate carved bookshelves and wearing a beat to shit pair of headphones, rushing through my 5th period AP Euro homework as Far Caspian played, keeping me from panicking even more. The example of me laying on a ridgeline isn't just metaphor either. I've done it before (I highly recommend it, it's very relaxing)

While the 2018 EP is mostly acoustic, 2019's The Heights branches out a bit. Some synth and piano show up, adding some variety to the instrumentals. Each song on The Heights also feels just that little bit more unique. Of course, I'm biased in this matter. The slightly faster guitar and simple drum line if Conversations lives rent free in my head.

(I can effortlessly sing along to it by the way, it's my second most played song of all time)

Yes, I'm aware this is a bit cursed.

Either way, the Heights contains some of the best sounding guitar lines I've ever heard. It's just unfathomably relaxing to me. Of course, the lyrics and drums are also pretty good. When talking lyrics, I would be stupid to not mention A Dream Of You. (You should listen)(please?)

This song is Far Caspian's most popular, and it earns it. The lyrics live rent free in my head, expressing longing for someone else's presence beautifully. The slow, calm guitars and passive drumline even have a little beat drop in the instrumental breakdown towards the end. It is probably one of my favorite beat drops ever. Even with its slow pace, the song has this way of sucking you in. I enjoy it quite a lot. The melody holds a special place in my heart.

In 2021, Far Caspian released their first full length Album, and it was quite a pivot. It's atmospheric and plodding. The music is still gorgeously composed, but there's a very prevalent sadness throughout. If you've listened to the previous songs I'd recommended listening to and enjoyed them, I can't guarantee you'll enjoy the album as well.

Of course, the album has its high points. For me, the most standout tracks were right at the start and end. House is by far one of the most complex songs Far Caspian has ever made. It starts out with a simpke guitar riff, and builds, until its soothing saxophone, combined with its other myriad instruments make the songs climax just transcendent for me.

Of course, they have one more Ep which came out a few days before I wrote all this. Its similar to the 2021 release in a lot of ways. That being said, the closer on the 4 song ep, Arbitrary Task, just sucks me into a trance. It's noisy, strumming guitars, combined with an omnipresent drum line, whittles at the senses a bit, until the comparative quiet of the bridge snaps you back to reality.

Of course, like every band, they also have a large catalouge of singles.

I'd recommend the alternate version of Conversations (Shocking, I know) and Holding On, which is thier first ever song.

Overall, Far Caspian is a band that can be both gentle, and calming, as well as rough andmelancholic. Whatever sound they have though, they are always heartfelt. They remind me of Turnover and Real Estate in a lot of ways. To quote someone else's review of Real Estate, "This is a band fotlr those who can chill to the max"

Between Days (2018) - 8.4/10

The Heights (2019) - 9.3/10

Ways to Get Out (2021) - 6.5/10

Pet Architect (2023) - 5.5/10

[nutzworth]

obviously the popularization (or should i say tiktokification) of the whole "is he acoustic?" thing is the worst thing in the world especially as neurotypical take it and twist it to hell and back. Unsure if theyre neurotypical actually. but neurotypical enough for their jokes about it to be WEIRD. and like im not diagnosed but you know i have my suspicions. and thats whatever and im always conscious about self diagnosis. ANYWAY.

a few days ago in my psychology class something evil and terrible happened and i keep thinking about it... we;re learning about memory and how it works and theres different kinds of encoding (like putting an experience into memory storage). and theres visual encoding (the look of stuff) and semantic encoding (the meaning of stuff) and ACOUSTIC encoding (the sound of stuff). and when my psych teacher said these 3 types some of the most annoying kids in my class (their asses do not do the homework. brother this is AP. stop cheating on your 4 question reading check quizzes. stop talking to each other when were doing stuff. holy christ.) these kids were like ACOUSTIC! LOL! IS IT ACOUSTIC! TEE HEE! and i was pissed off. commenting that sort of thing on a tiktok post is one thing (as i expect terrible jokes to be there) but you shouldnt bring that into real life. especially not for such a mundane word as acoustic. do you flip your shit if i mention acoustic guitars? whats wrong with you? its the same kind of forbidden that mentioning homestuck at school is. or like danganronpa. or yaoi or other just SO online concepts. you dont bring that sort of thing to our place of LEARNING! HAVE RESPECT!

anyway thats my story. i keep thinking about it. hate these damn kids. i hope they all fail out of the class during finals. theyre literally so evil "psych teacher what do you meeean we have to do homework and reading :-( i dont waaanna im so buuusy cant we do this tomorrow cant we have a work day today instead of doing the fun things youve planned :-(" and like YOURE the one that signed up for the AP CLASS!!!!!!!! boo hoo you cant skip the reading this is COLLEGE. COPE!

all these damn kids have leadership and sports and like 4 ap classes and theyre taking a college class like ok youre burnt out you did it to yourself. cope and seethe or quit some extracurriculars. pretty sure fewer extracurriculars you do good on are better than 1 million extracurriculars you all FAIL. i also recognize i am like the best at doing school nothing truly gets me other than school i love to learn + will crumble in the job force cus im too good at school to be doing anything else but like you know. the least you can do is stop complaining. i wish murder was legal sometimes

[x-rockatansky-x]

A whole week without any alcohol or extraneous purchases. I've never been more on top of things. Today I got the "doing" bug and made some nice changes. It just happened organically without me even coming up with the idea to do it, I just did it. So here are today's accomplishments and spending.

-Turned in paperwork #7 for statistics and completed both webwork sets, all of which was just assigned today.

-Completed and scanned in today's AP lab, which was on the bones and muscles of the lower body.

-Dropped off the laundry (not very productive, I should do it myself, but I just don't have time for that.)

-Spent $4.25 on a grape Celsius and bag of peanuts. I wasn't actually that hungry and the caffeine capsules I have work just fine, so I won't be doing that again on my next long school day.

-Cleaned off the tops of my bookshelves and dresser and put out my cold humidifier.

-Rearranged my desk and living room so the flow is better and there's almost no unnecessary weight on the sagging part of the floor. (I know lol it sounds horrible, but honestly most houses in the mountains are like this.)

I'll throw in some photos of the new setup tomorrow, it looks and feels really nice and allows me to see the whole room instead of just facing my curtains. Tomorrow I'd a single bio lecture and work, in between that I'll be getting into my chemistry homework, which I'm understanding a little better after today's lecture.

[ira-407]

How to School Me Better: Recounting Math

[Image description: The cover for the book Math Curse by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith. A kid is falling down a spiral of numbers.]

The image is the cover of a book Math Curse that our teacher read to us in 3rd grade. It does a good job of showing how math appears in many facets of our lives, but also how math can be very overwhelming for many people.

This is a big one. It’s also a very interesting story. I fluctuated anywhere between being in a pull-out math class in late elementary/early middle school to being in AP statistics in high school. I’m proud of the progress I made in those years, but I also don’t think the advanced math courses were really my speed. For most subjects in K-12, I felt like the basic level was too easy (and often had the obnoxious kids in them) while the advanced levels were anywhere between a little and way too hard. Apparently many other ACs felt this way too. This was especially true in my ninth grade math class, which was a fucking nightmare in hindsight. Small classroom, thirty-five people in one class, one single teacher who was replaced halfway through the year, and a state test that only about 60% of the total students in the entire state passed. Those are amazing numbers, I’ll tell ya. I barely passed by the skin of my teeth that year. It was probably the closest I came to failing a class. During the subsequent years of high school, I definitely didn’t struggle as much, but also was far from a star student in math. The math classes I took in college were easy enough for me to skate by quite well in them, though I did get B’s instead of A’s even then. Here’s some things that worked well in particular:

Having formulas readily available

Walking the class through problems step-by-step

Finding ways to apply the math we learned to the real world (ex: graphing projects, budgeting, spreadsheets)

Hands-on measurement activities

Mnemonic devices

Here are things that didn’t work well:

Long problems that required lots of spacing on scratch paper

Teaching entire chapters (or 2 entire chapters) within only three weeks before an exam

Word problems

Expecting us to learn the material by solely doing the homework and classwork

That last one was really only something one teacher did, and it was in the aforementioned ninth grade math class. Word problems in theory work, and are a good way of contextualizing what you learn as it applies to the material world. However, the way many word problems were worded was confusing, perhaps intentionally so. Many word problems require some kind of visualization. Now I’m actually very good at that. The problem is that it’s easy to get lost in specific details, and if a word problem uses words I don’t know, then I can’t visualize it. This is particularly an issue when it comes to anything geometry related. Teaching so much content within three weeks (or even less in some cases) before testing us on it is misguided at best and outright sadistic at worst. Some people can definitely keep up with that pace, but many can’t. I certainly couldn’t. This applies to any other subject in which exams were commonplace. There seems to be the unspoken principle in advanced classes that if you are at that level, then you should be able to keep up with a faster pace and a larger workload, which I not only think is emphatically false, but is an unhealthy mindset to have. More often than not, it leads to burnout. Whether the burnout happens while taking the classes or after graduation, it definitely happens. Pacing especially applies to a subject for which practice is vital, and math is certainly one of those. Now I don’t necessarily think this means there should be homework for math in particular and not for other subjects. I don’t think homework should be a thing, period. There are ways to practice math while in class, and test mastery of the material, without using homework or tests. There are self-paced math classes. I could’ve tried that in college, but ultimately didn’t do it. Not everyone learns the same things at the same pace. Especially not something like math. Math often has different levels of instruction before other subjects in school do for this reason. However, this still means that regardless of if you’re in special ed, standard, or accelerated math, you and the rest of your classmates are going at a set pace. A class of thirty-five students is sure as hell not going to all keep up in equal amounts, but neither is a class of six, or even three. I know this, having been in both of those extremes. Khan Academy’s math course seems to be pretty great and is self-paced. We used pieces of it in some of my classes. It still doesn’t fix the core issues of being forced to learn and practice enough to be able to pass a test on such a tight schedule. I think the skills learned in math class can be applied more directly to “real world” skills than they usually are. Math projects were a good way of doing this. Why not focus more on that instead of simply testing the hard knowledge? There’s a lot of talk about how we aren’t taught to balance checkbooks or how to pay taxes. Both of these things can easily be projects in a math class. Same with cooking. Yes, we had culinary and business classes, though what we would do in those classes was a lot less defined and certain since they were specials. There’s no reason not to combine aspects of these courses more closely.

TL;DR-Math was a subject I made a lot of good progress on over time in school, yet still struggled with in many ways. The pacing at which the math was taught to us as well as the way it was taught made a lot of concepts harder to understand than if there was more practical application of them, which does exist in classes that are electives. There should be more effort put towards bridging the two.

[spikeisawesome456]

what happened this weeek bro????

Well, funny you should ask that, my friend! Completely unprompted and everything! 😅

Ahhh. But BOY has this week been a chore. The last two days especially. I'll put this in a read more to prevent dash clutter, because this is a LOT. -.-

Anyway. For context, I am currently getting my master's degree in Educational Counseling, to hopefully become a school counselor. My college is completely online, which is helpful in some ways, unhelpful in others. I am also an after school teacher at an elementary school, a job I've had for almost 5 years now.

So, on Monday the 3rd, almost two weeks ago, my very last grad class started. My program has us doing one class a month, instead of five classes a semester or something, so this is my only class for this month (and the next, since this is a research class/my thesis class, and is logically a bit longer).

However, instead of hearing from my new professor on the 3rd, we had radio silence for a week. This was very frustrating, since I have quite a few questions about my research project that I came up with in my last class in December (yes, my last class ended in December, I guess they didn't have this class until April for some reason. I've been doing my internship the last 3 months though, so I was fine with it), but I decided to overlook it and do the assignments, which were just to submit the assignments from the last research class I took in December, which was easy.

Then, this Monday the 10th, I finally heard from my professor. She sent everyone a few emails at 3 am (??? Why 3 am I have no idea. I bet she finally checked her email, went "OH SHOOT I HAVE CLASS" and frantically send the emails), one of which said our first zoom class was that day at 5pm. Problem is, I work until 6:00 every week day, and I didn't have nearly enough time to ask for the hour off. Plus, I was a bit pissed at my prof for not giving enough warning. I sent an email asking if she would record the class, as well as asking her my main question I had. She replied back saying that she wanted to meet up with me privately, which I said that I was amenable to, telling her my availability. She then... emailed me back (calling me KAREN, when I had said my name is KATIE VERY CLEARLY IN MY CLOSER AND MY EMAIL IS LITERALLY MY FULL NAME) saying I didn't answer her????? When I very obviously did???

Well. Whatever, it was weird, but we eventually decided to meet Friday (today) at noon. I confirmed it, she didn't, but I just hoped she'd make the meeting.

Which... she did not. I sent her an email this morning at 7:00 asking for confirmation, and she never responded??? At all??? Like... dude??????? Finally, at noon, I decided to call it a wash and went to lunch with my parents. I had left my internship early for the meeting, too, and I was honestly super pissed.

But you want to know the kicker?? The real kick in the nuts????? When I finally got to lunch and sat down at 12:50... I opened my email for funsies and saw that she had finally emailed me... AT 12:15, SAYING THAT SHE WAS WAITING IN THE CLASS ZOOM LINK THAT SHE SENT THE CLASS. THAT SHE NEVER TOLD ME WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET IN. WHAT THE HELL.

I was SO DONE at this point I wanted to scream. I have since emailed the director of the whole program, her boss, and hopefully the director will get back to me... soon. But I have a feeling I will be stuck with this moron, for my most important class. And the worst thing is, I STILL DON'T HAVE AN ANSWER TO MY QUESTION, MEANING I DON'T KNOW IF I'M WASTING MY TIME DOING THIS WEEK'S HOMEWORK. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Ugh.

Anyway. If you thought THAT was bad, I also found out that I'm apparently not enrolled in my second internship class, despite the fact I'm at the exact same location, with the exact same counselor as my supervisor (I have a new internship class every 200 hours apparently, needing 600 hours total). No one told me I needed to apply for each class, either. But regardless, I now have to apply to the next class, even though I just finished my last 200 hours and am now starting my next 200, but I don't even know if they will count because my school is incompetent. And on top of that, the person who is reviewing my application has no idea how to insert my birth day and SSN into the credential website to see if I am clear to work at a school. I'm just... so freaking done with this school, I HATE THEM SO MUCH AHHHHH.

AND THEN, ON TOP OF ALL THAT... At work yesterday, there was legit a NAKED MAN IN THE WINDOW OF THE HOUSE OVERLOOKING THE AREA WE HAVE THE KIDS PLAY IN EVERY DAY. AND TWO STUDENTS SAW HIM, ONE A KINDERGARTEN GIRL. AND SHE SAID SHE SAW EVERYTHING. This poor little girl... I looked to confirm there was indeed a naked man, and while I was able to look away fast enough to not see anything untoward (and the window was slightly blurred at least), I was able to confirm that he was, at least, not wearing a shirt or pants. Whether he had underwear on, I don't know, but it was still very disturbing, especially because he's been watching us for a few months now... I thought it was just some guy looking over his fence curiously at the kids outside, but now, I don't know. He definitely knew we were out there, since I am fairly certain I saw his face. My supervisor is handling this one, but I still am very creeped out by this.

Anyway, there is more, but I'm tired just writing this. I want to sleep for days, but I don't even get to rest this weekend, since I have homework THAT I DON'T KNOW WILL EVEN MATTER SINCE I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN DO MY RESEARCH, but whatever. WHATEVER. At least the work isn't hard. It's just coming up with my questionnaire for the kids to answer. But still!!!

So, that's how my week has been going. How's yours?? :-) :-) :-)

[thebisexualdogdad]

Wally West with a bf who is like a huge nerd? Like obsessed with comic books has posters of his favorite characters every where around his room probably has Batman bedsheets or sum 😭 Like one day at like the beginning of their relationship they go into readers room to do homework or sum and Wally just sees how big of a nerd reader is? 😭 Also love your writing You can ignore this obviously but thanks for reading my request gracias por tu tiempo 🙏🏽

You and Wally had only been dating for a few weeks when you invited him over to watch a movie. 

The communal areas of your apartment that you shared with your roommates were normal enough but it was when Wally stepped into your bedroom he discovered how much of a nerd you really were. 

He knew you liked superheroes because the first time you met you were wearing a green lantern shirt but a lot of people did just to show support for the people who kept thier cities safe but now hes seeing the boxes of comics in one corner of your bedroom and a display of action figures in another. 

Then there's the various posters you have hung up all over the walls and the batman sheets on your bed. 

"Oh wow," Wally says surprised.

"Sorry guess I should have warned you… You don't think its lame do you?" You say nervously. 

"No way, who's your favorite member of the justice league?" He asks.

"That's easy, the flash, his powers are the coolest, who wouldnt want super speed," you say and Wally cracks the biggest smile wanting to tell you so badly he's the kid flash.

"What's with that grin Wally," you chuckle. 

He knows Dick would be so mad if he spilled his secret identity so instead he simply says, "flash is my favorite too." 

He goes over to your comic collection and picks up a nightwing issue sitting on the top of the pile. 

"He's gotta use padding in that suit," you joke looking at the cover that flaunts the vigilantes butt. 

"It's 100 percent real," Wally laughs and you look at him confused, "I mean… I saw him in person once when I was visiting some family in gotham." 

"Okay," you chuckle, waving it off, "so about the movie what do you want to watch? I have planet of the apes?"

Wally makes a sour face remembering his recent fight with Gorilla Grodd.

"Back to the future?" You then suggest. 

After what happened with Barry and the Flashpoint Wally would rather not watch anything with time travel and messing up the present, "how about jurassic Park I've never fought dinosaurs before." 

"Huh?" You say once again confused. 

"Joking," he laughs awkwardly. 

"Yeah well you're in luck I have those movies too," you say pulling the first one off of your movie shelf. 

Wally smiles his goofy smile and flops down onto your bed, "so what kind of snacks you got?"

[blogginthewind]

Love Sick in Riverdale

Notes: You go to school despite not feeling well. Reggie seems to be the only one to notice. Warnings: Mentions of sickness

You could never say no to anyone. That was your problem. You said yes when Cheryl begged you to join the River Vixens, despite being an honors student, taking AP math as a sophomore, and working an internship at your mother’s investment firm three days a week. You said yes when Principal Weatherbee asked you to be on the dance committee even though you only slept five hours most nights. And worst of all, you’d said yes when your mother asked you if you were alright that morning.

Your stomach was aching but you had brushed it off as nerves for your presentation first period. Besides, potential investors were supposed to come over for brunch and that wouldn’t be possible with a sick child in the house. Your mother was a perfectionist and a workaholic. “Are you alright?” had really meant “Please be alright. I am too busy for this.” So yes, you were alright and yes, you were going to school. By second period, the presentation nerves had faded away and you felt a bit better. The dissection in third period biology did not help.

By fourth period your throat was feeling a bit scratchy and your stomach remained swirling as you tried to push the image of the frog dissection out of your mind. It was your study hall and you should have been able to relax but your math teacher had asked you to tutor Reggie Mantle. Of course, you said yes.

“You look like you’re gonna hurl,” he said as he slid into the seat next to you in the library. You glared at him because outright denial would be a lie. Instead, you reached across the table and opened his math book to the current chapter. You were not in immediate danger of hurling. At least, not yet. All you had to do was focus. “Seriously. Are you alright? I heard it was dissection day but you look -”

“So are we doing to study or do you want to insult me some more? Because trust me, you need to study.” It wasn’t the nicest thing to say but at the moment, it was the nicest thing you could think of. He pushed his chair back with a loud screech, earning you a stern look from the librarian, and exited. 

It was fine with you. You had work you could be doing. You pulled out your own math homework but found you couldn’t concentrate. Ugh, you actually felt bad that you had implied Reggie was stupid. Tutoring had shown you that he wasn’t stupid, he just wasn’t strong in math. Those were two very different things. He could actually be kind when the other football players weren’t around. When you studied, he did try. You felt sick with guilt. And just sick.

Before you could decide what to do, a bottle of ginger ale and a package of crackers were thrust in front of you. Reggie took his seat again, seemingly unoffended. Food wasn’t allowed in the library but it was a sweet gesture all the same. You felt tears come to your eyes. Your own mother couldn’t make time to take care of you but Reggie? He’d gone out of his way after you’d called him stupid. “Seriously, Y/N. They help. I know it’s like a small thing but -”

“You’re not stupid,” you said, cutting him off again. He gave you a confused look and you felt your cheeks heat up. “What I said earlier. I didn’t mean - I just feel so gross and I didn’t want to talk about it and no one else seemed to care so I just...I was mean.”

Reggie put his hand on your forehead, seemingly unaffected by your ramblings. “Yeah, you’ve got a fever. I had that bug that went around. It was nasty. You should go home.”

You laughed. Going home wasn’t an option. Your mother had to work and...last time you tried that you had waited in the nurse’s office for two hours. When your mother had picked you up, she had been so frazzled leaving work and so concerned about her clients that you were consumed with guilt. No, there was no way you were letting anyone call your mom. “I can’t. Really. My mom’s at work and it’s just not an option. She has clients over for brunch. I’d have to wait and I don't want to fall behind..”

“At least take a break now.” You started to protest but Reggie cut you off. “Hey, I can study on my own this once. Someone told me recently that I wasn’t stupid.”

As you laid your head against your arms, you watched him study. His brow furrowed when he concentrated and he bit his lip when he was trying to figure something out. You began to drift off but you realized that you might just have fallen in love with Reggie Mantle.  

[celtics534]

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold it Can Be Chapter 10

You're a Sweet Relief

Happy Saturday! I hope you all are as excited as I am for this next chapter! We’re nearing the end. Enjoy this very relaxed chapter :)

Read On: FF.net or AO3

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Harry recognized the small lake. He'd loved coming up to the lake as a child with Remus. It's where he'd learned to swim, did his summer homework, and had his first kiss with a local girl when he was thirteen. When his parents had bought the place, Harry imagined they planned on showing him how to swim and helping him with his studies in the shade of the giant oak tree. Hell, his father probably planned on giving Harry the girl talk in the comfy sitting room. But instead, they had been robbed of those bonding moments. 

 Not that Harry hadn't loved Remus or treasured those memories with him, but he had always wondered what it would have been like to have his parents raise him. Those thoughts had made him feel guilty as a child. Remus had easily noticed Harry's anxiety and sat him down. Harry could still remember the tight hug Remus had wrapped him in. The soothing words and understanding in his eyes as he'd told Harry it was normal to feel that way. 

 That conversation had happened at this lake too. 

 Harry had to force his eyes back on the road. He still had another five minutes until they were at the cottage, and crashing the car Moody had loaned them wouldn't do. The small cottage his parents had bought when they'd found themselves pregnant with him had been a fixer-upper in the middle of nowhere. It took multiple back dirt roads to reach it, making it perfect.  

 Ginny let out a sweet sigh from the back seat. His eyes went to the rearview mirror. She was spread out across the back. He had insisted she lie across the seat, keeping her ankle level. Ginny had protested at first, saying she wanted to keep Harry company upfront. But Harry simply shook his head and placed her in the back. It had only taken five minutes of driving for Ginny to ease into sleep. 

 Harry turned onto the one-lane road that led to the solitary house. He could see the simple thatched roof that rose just slightly over the trees. Then he was stopped in front of the collapsed stone wall. If a stranger were to pull up the road, they would think the place was abandoned, which Harry supposed it was. He hadn't tended to it as he should have. 

"Wha'--" Ginny sounded groggy and confused as she sat up. She rubbed at her eyes like a small child. Harry could feel his lips curling into a smile. She looked absolutely adorable as she slowly woke up. He undid his buckle and turned in his seat to look at her. 

 "Welcome to Godric's Hollow."

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 "So where did they come up with the name Godric's Hollow?" Ginny asked as Harry brought her a cup of tea. She sat on the worn sofa he'd beaten the dust from. After carrying her in from the car, Harry had brought in the supplies and clothing he'd gotten from Moody. After that, he'd set off for the kitchen where the old kettle still sat in the cupboard. Despite his anxiety about coming out to the old place, Harry had kept paying the bills up to date and gotten a neighbor to check on things every so often. He hadn't been able to abandon the place; he'd just been unable to visit. 

 Harry lifted her stretched-out leg, settling down on the cushion, before gently putting her injured ankle down on his thigh. "Oh, well..." He could feel a small smile spreading across his lips. "According to Remus, Godric means power of God. Remus told me my dad thought the place held such charm that it must have God's power."

 Ginny's smile was sweet and loving. "I like it. And what about Hollow?"

 "It means sacred. Apparently, my mum thought it was so lovely it needed two titles that make it sound divine."

 He watched as Ginny's eyes roamed around the room, taking in the old stone hearth and wooden beams holding the ceiling. He had always loved the place, with its simplicity and antique elements, and watching Ginny's appreciation shine in her bright eyes made his heart flutter. 

 "They were right. It is lovely."

 For some reason, her liking the place increased his love for her. He took her foot into his hand and undid the laces of her trainer. "I've always loved it here." He slid the trainer off, dropping it to the floor. Her sock came off next. Then he started kneading his thumb into the sole of her tired foot. 

 Ginny groaned in appreciation, falling back against the side of the sofa. "Oh, Harry, you are such a saint."

 He smiled at her praise. "I do what I can." He slowly massaged her foot, finding particular tough spots in the heel and arch. Ginny sunk into the pillows as Harry continued his ministrations. 

 "Did Remus raise you here?"

 Harry shook his head. "No, it was more of a... holiday home, I guess. I think it was hard for him to be here. It was a reminder of my parents and the life they planned."

 Ginny sat up, her eyes bright. "Oh, that must have been so hard on him... and you." 

 Harry gave a noncommittal shrug. "Sometimes. Like when I saw other kids playing with both their parents in the park or swimming with their siblings." His throat suddenly felt scratchy. He focused on her foot for a moment clearing his throat. "But as I grew up... Remus was the best man. He raised me like I was his own and never once acted like I was a burden or... or something."

 His eyes were starting to glaze over, and he had to blink rapidly to concentrate. Before the sofa came back into focus, Ginny had moved into his lap, straddling him. Her hands came around his neck, pulling him tightly to her.

 "You are his, Harry." Her voice was muffled as she pressed her face into his hair. "He loved you so much. Tonks told me how much he loved you and how proud he was."

 Harry felt his eyes start to sting. He snapped them shut and let himself fall into her warm. "I know. I know... I just... I miss him so much."

 Ginny's arms tightened around him, and he felt her lips press to the top of his head. It amazed him that he felt so much solace just being held by her. It was silent in the cottage except for the crackling fire Harry had made when they'd arrived, and it was peaceful. Being with her here... it was everything he hadn't known he needed. He turned his head to meet her eyes, and when their lips touched, he knew she felt it too.

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 "Remus and I never really had green thumbs," Harry admitted as they ambled through the lackluster garden. Ginny's ankle was healing slowly but surely. They'd started taking little walks to help her build back her strength. She wasn't about to run any marathons, but Harry was impressed with her progress after only two days at the cottage. 

 Harry brushed aside an overgrown bush so Ginny could continue down the brambled path. "I never asked John, the neighbor to the West, to tend to the garden. It didn't seem fair with all he was already doing for me."

 Ginny smiled at him as she waited for him to pass the wild plants and join her on the path. She reached out a hand, taking his with ease. "I like the wild look; it makes me feel like I'm going on an adventure through the Amazon on something."

 Harry grinned at her. He couldn't help but marvel at how easy it was for them. How, after all the trouble they'd been through that, now it felt so easy and natural. Harry didn't believe in fate or destiny. He'd seen too much horror in the world to truly believe in a divine God, but then he'd met Ginny. Ran into Ginny was a more precise word, but no matter what word he used, Harry couldn't help but think about how right it was. Even in such a short amount of time, Harry realized he'd found who he belonged with. 

 It wasn't normal, at least not in his experience, to feel such an instant pull to someone. To know he'd found his person just like that, but even thinking about those first few hours in the cafe, he knew there was something about Ginny that made her something more. 

 He'd heard people talk about love at first sight, but that wasn't what it had been with Ginny. Yes, he'd seen the beauty under battered clothing and intense distrust, but the time he'd spent with her while building blocks and talking at night made him fall. It wasn't one of those slow falls people talk about; it had hit him with the force of a speeding truck. 

 The old cottage came into view as they walked around a small cluster of trees. Harry smiled. He really did love this place. After Remus had passed away, it had been hard to think about but just looking at the green shutters and deep mahogany back door, Harry felt something tighten in his chest. It was a reminder of his parents and their love and how they'd fallen for each other and never looked back. Besides him, it was the only connection left of Lily and James Potter.  

 "Did I ever tell you the story of how my parents met?" Harry asked as he pulled Ginny towards a worn but sturdy bench against the back wall. 

 Ginny quirked a brow at him, half-smile curling her lips. "No, I don't think you have." She sat down on the bench, gratefully lifting her injured leg as Harry found a makeshift footstool. "How did they meet?"

 "My dad grew up in a small village along with Sirius and Remus. They'd been best mates since primary. They called themselves the marauders, thinking it was cool. Remus told me they got into loads of trouble, being three teenage boys in a small village. Stupid things, of course, like dying the hair of the girl's football team or firecrackers in a nearby pool."

 Ginny laughed. "Sounds like they'd be best mates with my twin brothers." 

 Harry smiled, remembering some of her stories about her jokester brothers. "A dangerous combination, for sure. But Remus said things changed after my dad met my mum. It was the first day of year ten when my mum transferred to their school. Remus said they always rode into school together on their bikes, and year ten was no different. What was different was when they pulled into the yard, my dad got so distracted by the sight of the pretty redhead near the front door he ran into a bush."

 "Seriously?" Ginny asked, her laughter loud in the garden. "That must have been embarrassing."

 "Sirius and Remus teased him endlessly that morning," Harry said with a grin. "That was until they were in chemistry class, and my dad slid up to become my mum's partner."

 "Oh boy, I can only imagine the lines he used."

 "Remus said they were so bad he'd never repeat them." Harry laughed loudly with Ginny. "My mum wasn't impressed, but that didn't stop my dad. Remus told me that my dad was certain Lily was the woman he'd marry, despite her thinking he was an arrogant toe-rag. But my dad told Remus the more he learned about Lily, the more he fell in love with her. Said every little detail she told him made her more beautiful to him."

 Ginny smiled sweetly. "Aw, that's pretty cute. I'm guessing he learned how to tame his toe-ragness to get the girl?"

 "Took him a few years, but yeah." Harry took Ginny's hand, letting his fingers play with hers. "But the fact that he knew she was the woman for him in so little time... It's just... it was the same for me with you." He lifted his eyes from their joined hands to look into her lovely eyes. "I didn't understand how he could just know after just a few classes with my mum, but now... it makes sense." 

 Ginny made a strangled noise, then she was straddling his lap, and her lips were on his. Her kisses were hard and uncoordinated, but Harry loved them. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her steady as they lost themselves in each other. When Ginny finally pulled back, she pressed her forehead to his. Both of their breaths were labored as she gave him one final peck. 

 "Just so you know…" Her voice was deeper than usual, and Harry felt his body respond to the tone. "It was the same for me. I tried to resist it, but there was nothing for it." 

 Harry grinned as he stole another kiss, then without another word, he moved his hands to her bum and lifted her. She let out a cute little squeak, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her towards the cottage. They were both done resisting, and Harry had a good idea of how they could spend their time... not resisting.    

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 "So, as you can imagine, Tonks didn't take that sitting down," Harry said, enjoying Ginny's laughter. They were standing side by side in the small kitchen, preparing dinner. Harry chopped the vegetables while Ginny stirred them into the stew. 

 It had become a habit for them within the week of them arriving at Godric's Hollow. Cooking together had become a staple of their day that Harry adored. Never before had Harry enjoyed cooking as much as he did over the last few days. It was all Ginny. The way she would smile at him when he handed her the utensils she needed, how she would bump his hip when she walked by, and then there way she had to stop working when he told her a funny story. Like now. Telling her the story of how Tonks and Remus got together had made her laughter echo around the room. 

 "So, what did Remus do?" Ginny asked as she continued to shake with light chuckles.

 "Well, seeing as Tonks had her arms wrapped so tightly around his neck and her lips attached to his, he fell hard." Harry opened the oven to put in the loaf of bread. He turned to look at Ginny. Her smile was a mile wide, and it made his match. Fuck he really loved her smile.

 Ginny shook her head, her grin countering the action. "I can't believe he tried to deny her. She's amazing."

 "He knew that, but he had a... hard time with self-worth. Mix that with raising a teenager; he figured it would be better for her if he stayed away from her. Also, there was a considerable age gap between them; he used it as justification."

 "Age? Really?" Ginny waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure Tonk crushed that excuse real quick."

 "Oh, she did. She was good for him. He needed her more than I think he realized." Harry could still remember the way Remus would hug Tonks. The tight embrace he had for his wife like he couldn't stand the idea of being separated from her. But life hadn't let Remus hold onto his happiness. He hadn't been able to hear his son speak his first words or hold his wife until he was old and frail. Remus had deserved happiness, yet life had fucked him over.

 "Harry." Ginny's small hands came to close around his wrists. Harry hadn't even noticed her move in front of him. 

 She was blurry, and it took Harry a moment to realize it was because tears had started to fill his eyes. He tried to pull away, wanting to wipe them away, but Ginny held him tightly. She moved into his body, her arms going around his back to rub slow circles, and that small action shot right through him. His throat seemed to tighten, and the blurriness got worse. Harry pressed his face into the crook of her neck, letting Ginny's soft crooning wash over him as the tears fell.

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Harry inserted the battery into the cheap phone. He waited while it booted up. It was something he did every other day. Insert the battery, boot up the device, check for texts, turn it off, and take the battery out. It was the plan he and Moody had come up with before he'd left Moody's estate. Only Moody and Tonks had the number and kept him up to date on the case. 

 In the week and a half they'd been hidden at his family cottage Harry had received two updates. The first had been about Tonks making it to her parents. In Moody's concise tone, the second had been saying Peter had said a few names but nothing to run with yet. Harry hadn't responded to either. That had been part of the agreement; no reciprocation in case someone was trying to ping his location — no need to make it easier. 

 Harry watched as the screen illuminated with the basic brand symbol before going pure white. He gave it fifteen seconds to load and update before opening the text app. Nothing. With a little sigh, Harry held down the power button. Blackness engulfed the screen before Harry took the battery out. 

 "No word, huh?" Ginny's voice made Harry look up. She leaned against the doorjamb. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that somehow managed to look simple and sexy at the same time. 

 "No, nothing." Harry sighed. "I just... I was hoping there would be something, you know?"

 "You getting tired of shacking up with me?" Ginny asked, her teasing smile and tone making Harry grin.

 "Trust me when I say, shacking up with you has been the best thing that's happened to me in the last five years." He paused. "Well... except maybe when I beat Teddy at hide and seek."

 Harry loved her laugh. It made the room feel warm and made his chest want to puff out. She pushed off the frame, moving towards him. "I'm sure beating a four-year-old at hide and seek would be on everyone's list of accomplishments."

 Harry's hands naturally found her waist pulling her closer when she reached him. Ginny smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close to him, basking in the warmth she provided. Her lips pressed to the top of his head. 

 It felt incredible just being able to hold her. Place his head on her chest and listen to her strong and steady heartbeat. When Ginny's nails started caressing his scalp, Harry thought he would turn into a pile of goo.

 "So." Ginny's voice was soft and sweet. "How would you feel about taking a walk today? Following that trail to the North?" 

 Harry pulled back to look up at her. God, she was gorgeous. The way her lips were curled into that soft smile. The splattering of freckles covering her cheeks, arms, and the rest of her. And her eyes... Harry had heard somewhere that eyes were the gateway to the soul, and every time he stared into Ginny's eyes, Harry lost everything but her. 

 "We can do that, but first —" He pulled her down, so she was straddling his lap. "I have another activity on the agenda."

 He started trailing kisses up her neck, loving how he felt her pulse jump under his lips. Her arms tightened around him as he forged his path. Harry took his time, letting his lips linger on several spots. Her collarbone, pulse point, the underside of her jaw, the small cluster of freckles to the right of her lips.

 Ginny moaned against his mouth when he finally reached his destination. Her fingers dug into his hair as his tongue slid to meet hers. Harry loved the way she responded to him. It was heady to think he had such... pull over her. The power she had over him was just as great. Hell, Harry's body instantly responded to the slightest things when she was involved. The smallest touch sent his body into drive. 

 His hands found the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it up her lithe form. When it was bunched around her neck, he forced himself to pull away long enough to lift it over her head. His shirt came next. Then her bra. Harry lowered his head to her perfect breasts, groaning as she arched into him. Her nails knotted back into his hair as he sucked on one of her taut nipples.

 "Harry." Ginny's low and sexy tone shot right through him. He reached between them and undid the button on her jeans. Ginny was right with his train of thought. She lifted from his lap, standing to her full height, undoing the zipper, and sliding both trousers and panties down onto the floor. Harry took the opportunity to undo his jeans. When Ginny came back to him, they were both completely bare.

 She settled back on his lap, his arousal pressed between them. Ginny reclaimed his lips as she rocked. Harry groaned into her mouth as his hands slid down her sides to find their way to her bum. He traced one finger across her hips to move to the spot between them. Ginny broke their kiss when his finger found its target. She let out a long moan that egged him on, encouraging him to find the right rhythm. 

 Ginny pressed her face into the side of his neck, her breath hot and heavy against his skin. "Harry." There was his name again in that breathy moan that heated his entire body. When her hand closed around him, Harry nearly lost it. She held him steady as she lifted and guided him into her. 

 Fuck.

 Nothing had ever felt as good. No one had ever made him feel so good. Every time Harry was inside her, and her warmth surrounded him, Harry was in heaven. 

 Ginny set the pace, moving slowly at first. Her body ground against his in the most incredible way. Harry bit lightly into her shoulder as she picked up momentum. Ginny groaned and arched as he licked the spot, wanting to soothe. His lips started down her hot skin, again finding her breasts. 

 "Fuck." Ginny cried out the word as he sucked at her sensitive skin. "Fuck. Fuck." 

 Harry felt her release. Felt her tighten impossibly around him. Her open mouth pressed to his neck, and Harry lost it. He groaned as his hips jerked up into her before stopping. 

 He fell back against the sofa, her body falling into his. They were silent as the sound of their heavy breathing filled the room. Harry ran his hands back up to her back, running his fingers along her spine.

 "Well," Ginny laughed into his skin. "I definitely like your choice of activities." She lifted her head from his neck, her brown eyes glinting. 

 Harry chuckled as he lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. "Glad to hear it because I fully intend on performing this activity again tonight, if you're game."

 Ginny gave him a crooked grin. "I think I can be persuaded."

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 "What do you think Teddy is doing right now?" Ginny's soft voice carried in the quiet room. They were lying in bed, both content letting their bodies calm as the moonlight filtered in through the window. Only twenty minutes previously, Harry had been between her legs, making her tremble. Her head was on his chest while his hand stroked up and down her spine. Now they were enjoying the quiet contentment. At least it had been quiet until she spoke. 

 Her question made his fingers pause for a split second before they started to move again. "Well, seeing as it's well after midnight... I sure hope he's asleep." 

 Ginny let out a low laugh. "Okay, so maybe not right this minute, but —" She lifted her head to look at him. "But during the day. How do you think he's doing with all of this?"

 Harry's heart seemed to expand five sizes as he gazed up at her. The concern she had for his godson was just... if he hadn't already been in love with her, this would have been the tipping point. He brought his hand to the back of her neck, gently guiding her lips down to his. 

 Her body pressed against his in all the best ways as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Ginny didn't hesitate, running her hands up to knot in his hair. It was her who stopped them from getting carried away, breaking away from his kiss to lean her forehead against his. He didn't need to explain himself; he could see the understanding and love in her eyes as she stared down at him. 

 "Lie with me, Harry," Ginny's soft voice soothed him, making his body loosen and relax. She moved to lie beside him, her head resting on his chest. Harry listened to her breathing. One deep intake. A slow release. Then again. And again. Until her body was limp against his, he knew she was asleep. Harry smiled into her hair, letting his own eyes close.   

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Harry toed off his wellies by the front door. He didn't want to drag dirt and muck into the cottage. He'd been out in the garden searching for flowers. It was pathetic and sappy, but Harry couldn't get the idea of getting Ginny flowers out of his head. 

 The thought had come to him the previous night after they'd tucked themselves up into bed. They'd been together for weeks now, but he hadn't been able to treat her right. Treat her like a girlfriend. Take her out to dinner or a film. There had been no flowers or surprise coffee dates. 

 Sure, they hadn't met under normal circumstances, but there were some things Harry was old-fashioned about, and one of them was about how to treat a woman. So to soothe his sappy nature, he'd gone out searching for some lovely wildflowers or some kind of pretty plant. Of course, he had no idea what he was looking at as he'd perused the garden, and in the end, he'd found some sort of sweet-smelling flower that made him smile. 

 He now clutched the small bundle of white flowers in his hand as he moved into the sitting room. Ginny was sitting on the sofa, her back to him as she read one of the old books from his mum's collection. He moved in slowly, not wanting to startle her. When he was right behind her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding the flowers out to the side so they wouldn't hit her in the face.

 Ginny sucked in a surprised breath before she released it slowly. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide. "Did you... did you bring me flowers?"

 Harry shrugged, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. "I — uh — I mean... yes, I wanted to bring you flowers. You know, do something a normal boyfriend might do." 

 He watched her expression soften from surprise to tenderness. Her smile was sweet and precious as she stared at him. She spun, so she now had her knees on the cushions, and they were face to face. "God, you are just so adorable."

 Her arms circled his neck, and Harry happily leaned into her embrace. His hands came to her back, the flowers rubbing against her shirt. He nuzzled his nose to hers. "You know some men might find it unmanly to be called adorable. Not me, though. I take it as a title of honor."

 Ginny laughed as she leaned up to press a light kiss to his lips. "One of the highest I can bestow." 

 Harry followed as she pulled away, reconnecting their mouths in a more insistent kiss. "Are you really interested in that book?" 

 Ginny gave him a coy smile. "I think it can wait until tomorrow." She nipped at his ear lobe before rising from the sofa 

 Harry groaned in dismay, reaching to pull her back to him. Ginny let out a low laugh. Her hand came to cup his cheek as she tilted his chin to press a quick kiss to his lips. Her breath was warm on his lips when she told him to wait five minutes before following her. Then she was sashaying from the sitting room, her hips swinging in a way that made him want to follow her on his knees. 

 "Fuck." Harry muttered the word in appreciation. Ginny Weasley was going to be the death of him, and he was perfectly okay with it. His foot started tapping rapidly on the hardwood floor. It was taking all his resolve to obey her instructions. 

 He looked around the room, trying to find something to distract him for the next four minutes and thirty seconds. He considered the book Ginny had deserted until he saw the burner phone beside it. Figuring it would at least take three of the four minutes to boot up the phone, he reached for it. 

 Harry looked up at the old wall clock seeing two minutes remained on his timer. Had five minutes ever felt so long? 

 The mobile vibrated in his hand, and he looked down at it. It had booted and now glowed with a text. Harry felt his brow furrow as he opened the app. One unread message had appeared with Moody's contact. It was only one sentence, but it made Harry's heart pound hard in his chest.

 Raid happening tonight. 

[anakinthetrashking]

the batkids as things I did in school

Dick:

take dance class and be friends with everyone even though there was some weird infighting going on between everyone. forget to do the assignment to make up a dance ourselves, just improv'd it and got a good grade, somehow. had the most fun slipping down the hallways in socks.

halfway through the year asked to have a free period instead of ASL 3, bc the teacher wasn't teaching us anything or even keeping it interesting so I spent the whole afternoon in Physics class instead.

went all out for 80s day during Spirit Week but turns out no one else did. got a lot of weird looks and concerned questions that day. one kid said I looked like a jumpscare. thanks dude.

missed more than half of my statistics classes but was still getting a better grade than the seniors I sat near. 😭

Barbara:

got really angry when the Pre-AP Bio teacher disnt know whether Carbon was 6 or 8 on the Periodic Table. 14yr old me thought that it was extremely important to know as a science teacher. failed the first 6wks, got moved to a regular bio class, was late everyday but the teacher still loved me. found and identified a tumor in the stomach of the pig we dissected in class. Can still sing the entire DNA song(to the tune of I Want it That Way) word for word over 10yrs later. Still gets stuck in my head sometimes.

kept getting told off in sewing class bc we weren't supposed to hold the pins in our mouth while sewing bc it's dangerous if we accidentally swallow them but that's what I was used to doing at home.

Jason:

stunned the much older kids in my class playing Hangman by looking up and immediately guessing "Labyrinth" from the few letters that everyone else had guessed (one of them looked up what the hardest word was for the game and that was it. it would have been if I wasn't so obsessed with Phantom of the Opera and the David Bowie Labyrinth movie at that point in time)

read all of the short stories in that years English textbook within the first month of school every year

Cass:

smile at people (esp teachers) so wide that id have to close my eyes, and then immediately dropping the smile. (it gave me a break from eye contact and trying to figure out what expression I "should" have in that moment)

Everytime I joyfully played in the rain during lunch and then froze my butt off during afternoon classes in the AC.

also the times I was late for afternoon class bc I was overjoyed at seeing snow.

Tim:

was too overwhelmed to actually do the required amount of weekly reading so I just picked classic books I had already read and picked a random place to put the bookmark and easily answered the teachers questions on what I was "reading"

be a "gifted" student so I was put in the fast track math class but was too anxious to deal with that teacher's incessant yelling at the students so I begged them to put me in a different class. they put me in a regular paced class and told me to just go ahead and do the fast track by myself at my own pace. got distracted and never did the work. switched schools the next year and got put in the next math up and totally regretted it but was in too deep to back out.

dropped out of public school in 11th grade to have a mental breakdown ✌️ eventually finished HS later through online classes and stuff.

Steph:

get hooked on Kpop bc the one friend I had made moved away and now I was stuck with her friends at lunch without much of anything in common so we had to make something.

fell asleep in class bc I was awake all night watching kdramas.

had to do a report on a European country and then got overly attached to the country of Moldova...

Duke:

only got detention twice in all of the years of school. once for being late all the time and once for not turning in my homework on time(the teach didn't want to give me detention but she threatened everyone with it and it was only fair)

Always skipped Pep Rallys and hung out in the Orchestra room instead. also ate lunch in one of the empty practice rooms behind the band hall with friends bc we could :)

got overly excited about black hole radiation and decided to ask my then science teacher about it and was SUPER disappointed when she didn't know anything about it (despite it being a fairly new concept at the time and she only taught middle school non-specific science)

Damian:

got put in theatre class to fill an empty spot on my schedule, enjoyed it IMMENSELY, got assigned "weirdo kid" role by the teacher for the end of year play. really went all out to play up the weirdo role. probably could have just been myself and it would've been enough.

managed to get into a Ceramics class without taking an applicable basic art credit first. the teacher thought it was weird but she didn't kick me out!

all three times I was asked out I turned them down brutally because I didn't really understand social convention. whoops. sorry dudes.

accidentally offended someone when I said that Art 1 was easy :/ (I think they thought I was saying art in general was easy, which. no. I was taking Art 1 as an online class and it was all the basic stuff about art I had learned from my older sis over the years)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I’m Here

CW: Negative stimming including stimming resulting in self-injury, pet whump, death of parents, grief, ableism, past noncon references, r*pe survivor having severe PTSD flashbacks, memory of shock collars, derogatory language, dehumanization, meltdown/panic attack, whump of a minor referenced repeatedly. 

This is Chris in a very dark place - stay safe.

Directly follows Found Out, Akio, and Chris Sees.

Come on, 223499-

I'm Tristan! My, my, my name is Tristan, Tristan H-Higgs and I l, I, I live at-... but, um, no, no, at my, my my aunt's ap, apartment now-

Tristan Higgs is a fucking corpse, kid. You don't have a name anymore.

No, I'm, my, my name is, is, is-is-

 Your name is for your prospective to choose. Now let me show you how we shut you up.

 The boy is screaming, twisting, writhing in pain on the floor, clawing at the black collar around his neck, desperate to somehow escape it, but there isn’t any way out. He digs his fingernails down his skin but it’s still there, the collar never leaves, you’re only safe with your collar on, no wait that hadn’t happened yet-

Oh, that’s nice. Time for the Drip for you. 

N-no, no-

Welcome home, 223499.

M-my name is, is, is Tristan-

Chris slams the door on his way into the bathroom, locks it behind him, sweeps everything off the counter with a crash, plastic bottles of soap bouncing, a toothpaste container clicking against the tile, the toothbrush holder shattering and sending shards of ceramic pale on one side and rainbow-painted on the other everywhere. He stares at them clicking over the floor before they stop, some of them skimming the tile all the way to the wall. 

Inside his head, there is a cry, bubbling up behind the wall that his life has been hidden behind, deep inside the cold pale light that all the worst things drown in. 

Beneath the Drip, the needle in his arm, beneath the pain, the fear, the hands that moved over him and the bodies that moved inside him and the voice in his ear whispering, pet, pet, pet until he was one, until he wasn’t anything else any longer, until he was ready to be overwritten.

My, my, my name is Tristan Higgs, my name is, is, is Tristan, my name is-

Didn’t I tell you Tristan Higgs is dead, trainee? All that’s left of you is my pretty little whore. You wanted it so bad you signed up for this. Now get on your knees and show your handler some respect.

No, pl-please, please I don’t-, I, I, I don’t want to, I-

What you want doesn’t matter anymore, 223499. 

Please-

What you want is irrelevant, trainee. Now let me show you what I want.

Inside his head there is a boy, screaming, his wrists forced down by larger hands, body rocked in a rhythm of terrible pain while a stranger who will be his entire world whispers in his ear, I paid extra for this and you did not disappoint, darlin’.

There’s a boy alone in a white room, painting with his own blood on pristine white walls, just to see color, just to see something, anything, that isn’t nothing at all. There’s a boy, alone, whispering apologies to the parents he is losing, their memories slip-sliding under the surface until they are gone.

There is a boy, screaming.

Chris screams with him, their voices in tandem, in echo, but it's the same voice, and the scream was always him, always Tristan Higgs inside him, buried beneath it all.

Chris screams until his throat is raw, bashes his hands into the mirror until it rattles under his fists, rocks forward to knock his head into it. Again, and again, and again, rattling it inside the frame, trying to force a break. The chaos inside him is too much, too strong, and at the center of the train tracks is her face, always her face, her hands, her lips moving and fighting to speak, her face. 

 I love you, baby, I l-love you, it's okay, it's okay-

 Mom, please, pl-... please, no, no no no, I’m, I’m s-sorry, I’m so so sorry, I’m, I’m sorry-

 Sssshhh, baby, it’s-... it’s okay, it’ll b-be okay, Tris, Mommy loves you, h-honey, Mommy-... loves you s-so much-... Her eyes shining like marbles, her blood on the wall, burbling from her chest as she fought and fought to breathe and then she stopped and her eyes, her eyes stayed open…

 He laid with her and she was so cold and no one came to help him and no one came and they were both so cold and he stayed with them all night, wailing into her shirt soaked in blood, into his side, laid down between them and tried to keep them warm with blankets but they were gone and it didn’t matter and it was-

 If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive.

 His aunt looks at him with hate or stares through him and there’s no routine and there’s no therapy and Aki is gone and his phone is gone and he hurts himself desperately just to feel something other than the chaos and the noise and the cracking, shrieking angry pain inside him, the guilt the blame the hate and oh, how he hates himself for not staying still the one time it counted and no one is coming and no one loves him anymore because they’re gone and his aunt doesn’t love him because he should never have been born-

 If he weren’t born she’d still be alive-

 "It's not okay!" He screams again, tearing at his hair, clawing at his arms, dragging deep red welts down on each side, trying to dig the pain out from inside of him. “It’s not okay, it’s, it’s, it’s not, it’s, it’s not, not, not, not-not-not, not okay, not-”

 Please, pl-please, let, let, let me go-

 Told you to stop rocking, didn’t I? You did this to yourself. Be still, statue boy.

 Pl-please, I, I don’t know how-

 You’ll learn.

 His head snaps to the side with the imagined memory of a slap to the face, his breath catches with the pale shade of the shock collar lighting him up, nerves sparking shrieking agony, the needle in his arm, it's in his arm again this isn’t freedom he’s just gone crazy from drugs again and he’s on the Drip again and he was never not on the Drip he was, was never free no one saved him no one is coming-

 He rocks forward, again and again, banging his head into the mirror until there's blood, until it cracks, bad luck for seven years, Tris, sucks to be us, and they laughed, the two of them, carefully picking the shards up to put in the wastebin and Aki grinned at him, unbothered, because his mom would probably forgive them and it wasn’t a big deal-

 Let’s, let’s, let’s make up a, a routine, Aki, yeah?

 Yeah, sure, but can we like… be normal teenagers for a half-hour first?

 Um, how, how do we-

 I thought we might start by watching TV and not doing our homework. You know, get crazy with it. Maybe even go super crazy and eat leftover pizza.

 Chris's lips curl back from his teeth and he stares at himself in the mirror, his wide green eyes and pale eyebrows that darkened a little with age, blue hair that hangs around his face, frames the lines of his cheekbones. The gash along his forehead where he hit the mirror hard enough to open it, bright red blood welling up and slowly seeping out.

 He lifts one hand, pressing his fingertips to the crack in the mirror that matches the cut in his forehead. There’s a little bit of blood there, and it smears under his fingers. For a second, he’s fascinated by it, the liquid that slips along, ripples his reflection.

 It doesn’t feel like part of him. It’s just something he can control, when he can’t control anything else.

 Behind him, the doorknob rattles, but Chris barely notices. “Chris?” It’s Jake’s voice, and Chris swallows, ignores the push, the urge, to let him in. Instead he keeps looking at himself, tries to see the boy inside his head, the boy in the room, under the men, the boy screaming in his head while his mouth learned to say all the words they wanted.. 

 Come here, pretty-... oh, look at you, so full of tears for me, hm? 

 On your back, gorgeous boy.

 On your knees, pretty pet.

 What you want doesn’t matter anymore.

 No isn’t an option for you any longer.

 Don’t I always give you options, pretty thing? You can choose to be good, my good little slut, or…

 “You, you, you can choose pain,” Chris whispers, finishing the sentence that started in his handler’s voice, in his mind. “Too, too, too… pretty to, to be for anything else. Too pretty… too, too pretty for, for, for…”

 He nails the dismount for the first time on the the bars, his body does exactly what he wants, and he looks up to see his mom cheering for him, and he jumps up and down, hands moving, rocking with his happiness, and his team cheers for him, and his scores are really good so he can go to state and he’s so happy-

 He’s so happy-

 She’s so proud of him-

 There’s a hand in his hair, jerking his head back to look up at his Sir, who smiles down at him, and Tristan can barely see him through his tears. He’s tied down and he can’t escape and he doesn’t know it’s his Sir, yet, he was still Tristan then but his Sir’s hand is in his hair and he whispers, God, I love that you came already flexible for me, sweetheart…

 Please, n-no, please, I don’t want, want this, please, I-I-I don’t, I, I-... I need h-help, I didn’t… sign, yet, please call, call, call the the the-the cops-

 Sssshhh. Sir’s finger to his lips, and he didn’t dare bite, even then. Hands on his wrists, forcing them down against the table. His back arches, trying to get away, and his Sir laughs at him, low soft chuckle, and boy weeps, turning his head to the side. You’re going to be perfect, sweet boy, I can already tell.

 No, no, no no no, no, pl-please don’t, please, please, no, no, g-god, oh oh oh god, oh god, no-

 I paid extra for this, and you did not disappoint.

 The pain, when it comes, is blinding and never-ending and Tristan Higgs is screaming. 

No one cares.

No one will come to save him.

 Chris groans, pulling at his hair, trying to rip it out by the roots to settle his jangling shrieking nerves, scratching his fingernails down his cheeks as deep sa he can, smacking his hands again and again into the broken mirror, shrieking at the pretty face split apart by the cracks. A piece of the mirror falls out into the sink, and Jake is still talking, trying to open the door, but Chris isn’t listening.

 He can’t hear Jake over the sound of his own mind turning against him, spitting memories he’d thought were gone, but no, dead things don’t always decay, sometimes they just wait to come back and tear out your throat and show you how it’s all your fault.

 What about you, Tris? Mrs. Nakamura’s voice is gently teasing, soft and unassuming. She’s sitting with a book in a soft cozy chair somewhere with nice warm lights, and everyone watches Tristan’s hands move to tap on himself without judgement, without shame. We all know Aki can’t take his eyes off of that pretty Nicole girl-

 Mom. No. Please, please do not talk about this. Oh my god. She’s just my teammate!

 I’m just being silly, Aki. 

 It’s, um, it’s okay, Mrs. Na, na, Nakamura. I’m just-... nobody for, for, for me, right now. Tristan’s face is red, he’s blushing, and he hasn’t really thought about it much, beyond just thinking everyone is pretty, but he hasn’t told his mom yet, and-

 Oh, well, maybe later. You two are so busy getting ready for state, anyway. 

 He can hear Jake back on the stairs, now, thumping down them and away, and Chris’s hands move rapidly over the sink and counter, avoiding the bits of shattered mirror. He’s standing in ceramic but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t care. His body doesn’t belong to him, anyway, his body belongs to his handler his owner his rescuer his anyone but him it’s not his it’s not his body, they took his body and he doesn’t get it back…

 He wants his body back.

 He yanks open the drawer, shoving through the disposable shaving razors that Jake buys, the nail-clipping kit he keeps in here, a stupid little comb that he can’t see any use for, rolls of gauze and bandages, tossing them to the floor, until he finds what he’s looking for. 

 A pair of scissors, used mostly for gauze and bandages, big shining metal scissors that weigh heavy in his hands.

 Chris stares up at himself in the remaining mirror, pulls a hank of his hair out straight with one hand, and clips right through it with the scissors. He lets out an exhale, and grabs another bit of hair, and does it again.

 Blue drifts down to gather with the broken glass in the sink and on the floor, piling higher and higher as Chris keeps cutting, staring into his eyes and not looking at how even the cut is. He looks at the bloody mess on his forehead-

 Mom, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I, I, I moved, I’m so so sorry, I’m sorry…

 It’s okay, baby-

 Blood on the wall, he stayed there all night and no one came. She was cold, he couldn’t keep her warm all by himself.

 “It’s, it’s not okay,” Chris whispers, and Sir’s hand is heavy on his neck, look at how you ruined yourself since you left me, darlin’, but his Sir can’t stop him because his Sir is dead, too. Everyone who cares for him dies but Jake and Antoni and Laken and maybe they’ll die, too, because of him, because he’s too pretty to be for anything else-

 There’s blood on the featureless white wall and he pulls it through his fingers and it’s something that’s not white, he barely recognizes it as his blood, it’s just bright red and feels good under his fingers, the blood cools and dries so he hits his head and makes more, and more, and more-

 He keeps cutting, until what’s left is a shaggy, unkempt mess, different lengths all over, and all his hard-won long hair is gone. He has wisps that hang over his forehead, little bits that tickle the tops of his ears. He cuts until it’s just little scruffs, barely blue at all. 

 He drops the scissors into the sink on top of the pile of blue hair, runs his hands back through his hair, watches more loose bits drift slowly downward.

 He lifts his hands and takes out his piercings, one by one, dropping them into the sink with the hair, until his ears are bare, too, and his eyebrow. Nothing but a thin narrow face, nothing but freckles that stand out too much, nothing but big eyes and chin. 

 He pulls his shirt off over his head, and then his compression shirt. Takes off his pants and his boxers and then straightens to stare at himself naked in the bit of mirror still left.

 “I, I’m good for you,” He whispers, tilts his head just right, looks up at himself through his eyelashes. His look is warm and liquid and well-trained, a show of desire he’s never once felt. He bites down on his lower lip, just so, hand moving as if to brush a bit of hair back - but the hair he might have touched is gone, it’s in the pile in the sink. 

 The look is ruined by what he’s done.

 Good.

Wide green eyes, yeah, let’s see those eyes nice and empty for me, trainee, but they’re red-rimmed and shadowed, full of pain. His eyelashes - inhuman, unearthly, pretty boy - are barely visible. Freckles that stand out too much, I’m going to kiss every single one until you understand how beautiful you are, Chris, okay? scattered over his nose and the angled cheekbones. Narrow chin, perfect for gripping and moving his head around, smeared with drying blood. Bleeding from the slash across his forehead, running slowly down to stain his pale eyebrow darker, to run into his left eye, what the fuck did you do to yourself, trainee?

 “Not, not a trainee,” Chris whispers. “Not a, a pet. Not Tristan. Not, not, not. I’m, I’m Chris, I made myself, I’m, I’m, I’m, I’m, I’m... I’m I’m Chris, I’m, I’m Christopher fucking Stanton, I’m-... I’m Chris.”

 Big scratches down his cheeks, his neck, bright red welts that might turn to bruises, that he could open into bleeding, he could make himself so ugly no one ever wants him again. “Not, not, not so pretty anymore,” He whispers, and his throat closes up against the words, but it feels good, it feels important. “Not, not, not pretty, now.”

 Not worth dying over, not worth breaking, not worth noticing, not worth taking, not worth buying, not worth rescuing, not worth being arrested for, not worth saving, not pretty enough to hurt, not pretty enough to love. 

 You fucking freak, I don’t know how Ronnie managed to think you were so great, you can barely brush your own teeth.

 How the hell did she love you? You ruined her life.

 If it weren’t for you...

 The door suddenly jolts open, and Chris doesn’t flinch - he doesn’t look back - only stares at himself, rocking slowly forward and back on his toes and heels until his head bumps the cracks in the glass like the cracks inside of him, his hands twisting at the ends of his wrists to smack rhythmically into his sides, his hips, harder and harder, fighting to find the same soothing rush that motions like this normally bring. 

 It’s too loud, inside of him. It’s too much. He can’t stop the trains roaring up out of the light, bringing everything into the darkness where he only wants to hide.

 “Holy shit, Chris,” Jake whispers, standing behind him, eyes wide with shock. “Wh-... why did you… Oh, Chris, no. Oh, no, oh fuck, Chris, you hurt yourself, you haven’t done that since-”

 Chris turns, ceramic crackling underfoot, sharp little spikes of pain in his feet, and looks up into Jake’s eyes. “Tris, Tristan Higgs was pretty,” He says, weakly. “I don’t want to, to, to be pretty anymore.”

 Oh, darlin’, aren’t you just pretty as a picture.

 Open up, 499.

 He’s such a sweet, handsome boy, Ronnie, you’d never know he had, you know...

 You can just say it, you know. It’s not a dirty word. 

 You’re too pretty for anything else, 499, you were always going to be somebody’s slut.

 You want it-

 I, I don’t want to-

 No one gives a fuck what you want.

I don’t, don’t, don’t want to, please-, pl-please, please stop, please please stop touching me-

What do you say, trainee?

I want this. I want you.

Good boy.

 A shudder ripples through him, a memory of pain, long gone but still written over every inch of his body. Broken, and dirty, and used until he forgot how to be anything else. He feels suddenly exhausted, weighed down, too heavy to move. There’s a weight on his chest and every breath takes an effort, takes determination, and he is losing the battle. 

His lip wobbles, and he feels infinitely young, like all the years didn’t happen, and he’s still just Tristan Higgs in the end, ready to be broken, bent, and twisted. 

He looks at Jake, and his brother blurs with tears. “He was, was, was too pretty for an, anything else, I d-don’t want to, to-to-to be pr-pretty like him anymore-... s-so I made, made, made myself uh-ugly-”

 Jake sweeps him up and Chris lets himself be swept. The cry is bubbling up again and he wails into Jake’s shirt, gripping into the fabric and twisting his hands, tears rolling down his cheeks and stinging into the places he scratched himself. He’s pulling, tapping, rocking his bloodied head into Jake’s shoulder, fighting the trains in his mind that aren’t thoughts but memories, each one fighting to be the first to hurt him by coming back to the surface. 

 They crash into each other, into the wall of cold white light. They break through.

 Inside him the boy in the black collar is screaming, the boy in the collar is crying, the boy is laid back on silk sheets and cries tears he has to keep inside his head while his face is smiling and his voice makes all the right sounds, the boy has his wrists and ankles locked down to keep him still, the boy is curled up between his parents waiting for someone to come and nobody is coming, the boy wears a suit in court that itches and he can’t stop shaking his hands and the judge doesn’t like him and the social worker doesn’t like him and the boy is curled up on a bed in a windowless room missing his friends, the boy hits his head and hits himself and the words are gone and the boy is screaming the boy is screaming the boy is screaming-

 Mom, can Tris sleep over tonight?

 Again, Aki? Well, I guess I don’t see any harm. You’ve got half your closet in Aki’s room by now, anyway. Call you mom and ask her, Tris, okay?

 You fucking freak, I wish you had died with your bastard father instead of her.

 I hate you, I, I hate you so, so, so-so much-

 You should hate your fucking self, Tristan.

 I love you, kiddo. It’s you and me, right?

Right, Mom. You, you, you and, and me.

Til your dad comes home, anyway. Can’t wait ‘til he’s working days and we’re not alone at night, huh?

Your prospective will choose your name.

I, I’m a… number. My name is… 223499, Romantic designation, Facility 001. I am a pet and… and… a toy. I am an active par, participant in fulfilling m-my, my, my owner’s desires-

I paid extra and you did not disappoint.

On your knees, gorgeous boy.

I think we’ll play a game, sweetheart.

Show some respect, 223499.

Come here, darlin’.

Good boy

I love you, Tris

Good pet

It’s, it’s okay, it’s-... okay, I l-love you, it’ll be okay-

Good boy

The boy is screaming for help and nobody is coming to save him-

“I’ve got you,” Jake whispers, holding him tightly, and Chris buries himself into the warmth, the familiar scent, the feeling of Jake’s arms is branded deeper than anything else in the world. I will rescue you, I’ll come back to you, Chris, I promise, I’m here.

I want you I love you I’m here.  

“You made Chris, and you’re still Chris. This is just all the shit they took from you, that’s all. It’s okay, you can cry, Chris, go ahead and cry. It’s okay, it’s hard when it comes back, and Kauri and Ant and Laken and I, we’re all here with you.”

Chris sobs in Jake’s arms, bleeding all over his shirt, but Jake doesn’t care. He holds him anyway. There’s a throbbing pain inside his head, but it’s not stronger than the memories, and the cold white light isn’t holding them back like it used to, anymore.

Her face, her hands, the blood coming out of her, the silent house around them. 

Her face.

Her eyes.

She loved him.

Oh, no, did you fall down? Oh, it’s okay, honey, I’m right here, I’ve got you - it’s hard the first time, but we get back up and try again. Here, let Mommy give it a kiss - there, all better, right?

Therapy is rough sometimes, sweetie, but listen - we can do this, together, Tris. We can do the hard stuff if we do it together. D’you want a hug? Yeah, hugs can help make it better, right? That’s what moms do.

I heard the thunder, baby. Go ahead, climb in, I’ve got you, c’mere, I’ll hold you.

I want you I love you I’m here.

I l-love you, it’s okay, it’s okay, I love you, Tris...

“I, I, I don’t want to, to be Tristan Higgs,” Chris cries against Jake’s neck, shoulders shaking, rocking, rocking, rocking in his arms. Jake’s hands are up in what’s left of his hair, feeling the short, chopped strands, rubbing over the nape of his neck, soothing the twisting hurt and fear inside him. “I don’t, I don’t, he, he, he, it was his fault, for, for, for for for moving when he had to, to be still, and I wasn’t, I didn’t do it right, and they, they d-died because of me… I l-loved, I was, they, they, they shot them and-and left me and, and, and no one came, nobody came to help, no, no, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“I know,” Jake murmurs. “I know. It wasn’t your fault, you were just a kid. It wasn’t your fault, Chris, whatever happened, it-... it wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault. You’re whoever you want to be, Chris, but Tristan is still a part of you, okay? We have to work on making everything integrate, work together, or it’s going to keep hurting. You have to get past the conditioning to forget, or it’s going to… get worse.”

Chris whimpers at the idea that he could feel any worse than this. “I don’t, don’t… don’t want to, to, to to to lose her again,” Chris whispers, shaking his head. “Don’t want to, to lose y-you-”

“Never. You can’t ever lose me, you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s clean up this mess, Laken is probably dying to talk to you-”

“No,” Chris whispers, begs without a voice. “No, not, not them, not… not yet.”

The scream is bubbling up again, the boy in the cold white room is rocking, rocking, rocking with his hands tied behind his back, can’t touch can’t hurt can’t feel can’t think someone help me but nobody is coming except the handler with his smile and his pain and his hands-

“Okay. No problem. Cleaning first. I’m going to bandage you up, and I’ll clean up the mess while you sit and maybe drink some water. But… can we… can we do one thing? Will you let me do one thing?”

“Wh, what?”

“Will you let me fix your hair?”

Chris pulls back a little to look up at Jake, and he smiles faintly back down, sympathetic and loving, and it’s not okay, but Jake is here, so it’s… it’s better than it would be if he were alone. “Um… y, yes, you, you you you, you can fix it.” 

“Okay. I love you, little man. You weren’t supposed to see it so soon, we were going to get you ready, and it’s going to hurt coming back, but I promise… I promise it’s good for you to have it. Okay? Do you trust me, when I say that?”

Chris meets the sincere love in those blue eyes. “I, I trust you.”

He does. But he doesn’t believe him.

It’s okay, baby, it’s, it’s okay…

It’s not, and it never was, but… he remembers her face, at least. He remembers her voice.

He remembers her.

I love you, Tris, I’m so proud of you for doing the hard things, and I’m right here with you. I’ve got you, sweetheart. You and me, right? We can do all the hard shit as long as we do it together.

His fingers twitch, and he buries himself against Jake and sees her eyes full of tears and dying and her chest covered in blood and the blood on the wall and she tells him she loves him and then she doesn’t tell him anything anymore and her body is cold and Tristan curls up between them, blood drying on the wall and no one comes until the sun is shining and the blood is dry but Tristan is still crying-

Chris begins, again, to scream, but this time Jake is holding him, this time someone’s here, this time there’s someone who isn’t leaving, this time he can wail with arms around him and this time he’s not alone.

The boy is Christopher Stanton and he is Tristan Higgs and the boy is screaming and his brother came to help him and his brother is holding him tight.

I love you, Tris. I’m so proud of you.

I’m here, Chris. I’m not going anywhere.

I want you 

I love you 

I’ve got you 

I’m here.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp  , @finder-of-rings  , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker  , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript

[rouiyan]

𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘖𝘍𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘍𝘐𝘌𝘓𝘋 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

synopsis: we’re all sprinting towards one thing or another. the players to the ball, mark to his class, and haechan right to you.

✧ soccer player!haechan x (fem.) reader + best friend!mark ✧ high school au, best friends to loverz, inspired by heather (conan gray)

✧ genres : some fluff, some angst, some pining what’s new ✧ word count : 2.3k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — wrote this in ap stats, probably should have been paying attention instead bc i can't figure out how to do the hw for the life of me.

"did you see y/n today?" 

haechan thinks, by the sound of the voice, that it's mark who's speaking. he pulls the rest of the sweatshirt past his head, "no, did you?" haechan's grabbing for his socks, he swears he stuffed them in the front pocket of his backpack. "that's why i'm asking, idiot. she told me she would be here today." a tongue of frustration juts out from haechan's mouth, he hopes it just looks like he's agitated about his missing socks and not the fact that you always tell mark those things, always mark and never him. 

haechan is out of the locker room in seconds, sneakers slipped on without socks. he's adjusting the hood of the sweatshirt, tucking his locks under the material, when he sees you lingering by the bleachers. you smile sheepishly when you see the boy coming from the locker rooms, "somehow, i thought it started at four and i thought i got here early but your coach told me you guys just finished." haechan can't help but laugh, so that's why you weren't here, "and we won, too. did he tell you that?"

he's by your side now, seated, though his feet are planted on the ground while yours are swinging back and forth, "he did tell me that, congratulations haechan, wish i could've seen you score today." haechan tucks a lip under his teeth, now's not the time for him to be so obvious, not when it's just you and him. he thinks that yet, his stares linger on you for a little longer than normal, his fingers are fiddling with the ridges of the bleachers, and his cheeks host the brightest hue of cherry red. 

"hey, y/n, where were you today?" haechan's nose scrunches at an emerging mark, he really thought he could have the moment with you. mark approaches and sits on the other side of you. captain mark lee, haechan notes with shrewd annoyance, is wearing your sweater, his favorite of yours, the one with the worn polyester fabric that's pilling all over but still holds warmth snuggly. the one that haechan's been wanting to wear since day one. 

mark swings his legs as well and haechan watches as you point it out, giggling now that mark is trying to swing in sync to your own pace. "wanna come over? my mom's been asking you to come over for dinner," marks eyes are on you, haechan can see that much, but he also misses the way your own eyes shift to himself. and what haechan doesn't see, mark does, and his lip twitches into a knowing smile, "haechan, you should come too, my mom misses you."

the boy himself is already in over his head and passing up the offer is the only way he sees to escape the despair that comes with being a third wheel, "no thanks, i have a shit ton of homework to do today." your hum in response is mixed with an undertone of a sigh, one that haechan is too sidetracked to notice. he takes his leave, "well, i'll see you two tomorrow i guess."

you and mark sit in silence for the minutes after his leave, mark sneaking small glances at your ever-changing expression, an open book to all your thoughts. "next time, y/n, next time." 

well shit, maybe mark wasn't as clueless as you pegged him to be. 

in agitation, mark shoves the last of his books into his backpack, class is about to start soon and if he doesn't get going now, well then he might as well give up his perfect attendance, no tardy record. haechan leans against the locker next to his own, a seemingly bored expression on display to hide the inner rumblings of his thoughts.

"so how was dinner last night, did you guys miss me?" haechan's trying to come off as nonchalant, he hates it when he has to pry just to satiate his curiosities. mark shuts his locker, swinging his backpack across one shoulder, "uh, dinner didn't happen and no, i didn't miss you but i bet y/n did." haechan's left in confusion on all fronts, "what do you mean it didn't happen? why would she miss me- wait, why did you not miss me?"

"well y/n said she was busy all of a sudden, something like that. as for-" the bells rings, signaling the end of passing period, and effectively cutting off the answers to all of haechan's worries. marks eyes widen and before he can even catch the boy by his arms, to shake and spill the words out of him, he's already sprinting down the emptying halls. 

haechan sighs. he should be sprinting too but he's already late, might as well walk. the campus grounds are vast and he decides to take a stroll outside, the much longer way to his physics class. haechan is passing a few classes on his left, all of them filled with the chatter of students before a teacher begins their lectures, but there's one class that catches his eye. the window into the ceramics class reveals a clear view of you, eyebrows furrowed and trying to shape a little figure on the table before you. you've told him many times before that ceramics was your least enjoyed of all your courses, that you had taken it simply because you needed an art credit and while that might've been the reason you'd signed up, haechan can tell by the way you handle the little mold of clay, that you had stayed for much different reasons.

he thinks to tease you of it later but it's then during lunch where he stops himself because before he even so much as reaches the table your group frequents, there you are, showing the little figurine to mark, eyes glistening with pride and joy. "i think i did quite well this time, i even got praised." as haechan comes close, he sees the clay figure in full clarity for what it is, an ambiguous sitting shape with a heart cradled in its lap, lumpy in certain spots but emanating in the care and thoughtfulness with which it was made. 

haechan slides into the seat across from you. "look," you sound softly to him, holding out the little figure in both your hands, "do you like it?" haechan swallows thickly when he looks up from your hands to your eyes, he sees the way they light up, he hopes. wordlessly, he nods, a small smiles tugs at his lips. he likes it, he really does so he questions, "what inspired you to make it?" it's in the way that you immediately eye mark, and the way that mark immediately hides his oncoming giggle, that haechan relinquishes his hopes.

mark walks you to class after your lunch break that day, he's a grade higher but a thousand times dumber, you think. "are you insane? why would you laugh at that specific moment?" in between small giggles, mark does his best to provide a reply, "you should've just told him that he was the one that inspired you." smacking his elbow, you purse your lips, "but then he'd know!"

the older boy stops walking for a second and you're five steps ahead when you notice. you turn. "what now, mark?" he holds a mischievous glint in his eyes, "he'd know what?" now his eyebrows are making little squiggly lines by his hairline and you take a few steps back to drag him by the arm. flushing, you whisper, figuring he already knew as much, "he'd know i like him."

if mark is considered your best friend and potential crush, then what about him? possibly also a best friend, though he could only hope you would talk to him a bit more, spend a bit more time with him, make more conversation with him during breaks. potential crush was for sure out of the picture right? the way you look at mark, the way you share you everything with mark, objects and secrets and everything in between, haechan isn't sure he can say the same for himself. he texts mark anyways. tell y/n ur busy, something bout soccer.

haechan's out the door a minute and a half before the bell rings, his teacher yelling at him to come back. he doesn't give a shit. mark always walks you home, he always does and haechan is so fucking fed up with it because he himself lives closer to you so why should he get to walk you home. 

he arrives at the door to your last class just as the bell signals the end of the school day. there's only enough time for three deep breaths, panting breaths, before the door to your classroom is propped open and students begin filing out. 

"y/n, over here!" he calls. your eyes widen at the sound of his voice and you turn to it, a smile already lifting the corners of your mouth. you're walking side by side with him, and haechan starts leading in the direction of your locker, despite needing to go to his own. "i can walk you home today." you turn your head to him, "what do you mean? i usually walk with-"

"mark, i know," he says it with a disclosed derision, "he's busy, had to go talk to coach or something, i don't know. but i can walk you, plus my house is just two streets down, remember?" he watches in anticipation as you retrieve your phone from your bag. his eyes do their best to peer over and he sees your lockscreen light with a notification from mark. "oh, yeah he said he's busy with soccer stuff." haechan's lip quirk in victory, his plan unfolding itself into perfection. 

"can we go to my locker first though? i need to get some stuff, and we're on the way." he nods as if it wasn't in his intention to head in this direction and for that reason. he merely disregards the need to go to his locker. who cares if he has to bring a whole ass chemistry textbook home if he gets to go home with you. 

it isn't until he's at your front steps that he musters up the courage. you're in the middle of keying in the pin numbers to your door pad when he speaks up, "hey y/n?" you give a hum in response, messing up the last two digits after hearing him voice your name. you abandon your attempts, turning to look at the questioning boy. "would you like to come watch my match next week?"

you take a step down so that you're two above from where he's standing, now the same height as him. frowning, "of course. i'm going to see you and mar-"

it seems that haechan really doesn't want to hear that name come from your mouth today because he interrupts you yet again, "yeah, but i'm asking if you'd want to come to watch me." your lips part and shut in search of what to say. haechan nudges a little further, "i want you to come watch me play, would you want to?"

you release a breath, biting down a smile, you manage a nod within all your flusteredness. your voice, a bare peep, "i want to," gives haechan all the courage he needs to grab one of your hands to give it a little squeeze before muttering a, "see you," and taking his leave. haechan's turning the corner out of your driveway when he sneaks a glance before the fence blocks his view of you. his heart hurls at the sight of you, still on your front steps, face buried in your hands. even from all the way here, the bright red flush of your cheeks can be seen through your fingers. 

no one knows why that one boy on the field is scoring goals left and right. no one knows except you and him. from the moment haechan saw you on the bleachers, the other team was done for. it isn't even about impressing you anymore, it's not about making you proud. it's not a crush, it's these stupid feelings that never go away, never fade with time, or any amount of effort, at least, not in the knowledge that you are equally his as he is yours. it's not a crush, it's the sickening feeling in his gut when he sees you with someone other than himself, with mark, when he sees that sweater on mark instead of himself. it's not a crush, it's the way he feels the need to be with you all the damn time, the lingering feelings from whenever you leave his side that tell him that moments spent without you would be so much better if you were just there. haechan moves on the field with full conviction that it's not just a crush, it's love.

and so as the last whistle of the game blows, their team securing the win with haechan's last goal, he runs, no sprints, straight off the field to where you're seated in the stands. he brushes past all the people with hushed apologies and it's only when he's right in front of you does he realize how frenzied he likely seemed. he doesn't mind for more than a second though, because you've stood up and laced your arms around his shoulders, fingers on the back of his neck. he embraces you back and the kiss he gives to your cheek is something that just feels so natural and close to home. his forehead is on yours when he asks, his voice a bare minimum, "y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

it isn't you that answers, rather it's a mark lee with a loud, "FUCK YEAH." 

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — hey anon babe who requested this. apologies for making it fem. reader, i know you didn't specify. if you would like me to reupload with gender neutral reader, then send an ask and i'll be more than happy to. ♡

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Girl’s Choice

Draco X Reader (highschool!AU)

Summary: Everything was absolutely fine in his small town, until you stumbled in and began to defy the status quo.

A/n: So, guess who got Midnight Sun and has been reading it non-stop for the past few days? Me. It was me. So, please enjoy this Twilight Parody of our favorite characters. Also I get to move back to college in like a week and I am EXCITED--mainly because there’s a good chance that I get a room to myself bc of the virus. So yay me. I love you guys a lot and really thank you for your patience and enthusiasm. It makes me smile. 

“So, Gin asked me to the dance this morning,” Harry was chatting you up—a normal occurrence before class started.

Draco didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. He really didn’t, but he was intrigued about how this would go down. Since moving to the small town, you had been a buzz among the boys in the grade level. Draco could all but assume that most of the fantasized about you asking them to the girl’s choice dance coming up.

“That’s great!” You genuinely smiled. “You’ll have a lot of fun!”

Harry fumbled, losing his casual composure. You noted on it, and your look became more skeptical and judgmental—something Pansy would approve of.

“Well, I told her I’d think about it,”

This surprised Draco as much as it seemed to surprise you. It was no secret that star lacrosse player Weasley and Potter were all but official and had been for almost all of high school.

“Why in the world would you tell her that?” Your words mimicked his thoughts.

“Well... I thought maybe you’d... want to ask me?” He ran a hand through his usually untidy mass of curls.

Draco could not make this up if he wanted to. He barely suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape his lips. How in hell had Harry figured that you’d want to go to the dance with him? You’d been here maybe a month. As far as Draco knew, you weren’t interested in anyone. Perhaps the small town didn’t have enough shine for your city lights.

“You should tell Ginny yes, Harry,” You scolded him like a child. “It’s rude to make a girl wait,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sulked, his face falling as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

Draco couldn’t wipe the amused smirk from his face. You huffed annoyed and opened your notes, already prepping a new page for today’s lesson. You didn’t pay him any mind during class—a normality between the pair of you. Draco ignored you and you returned the favor. It was almost easier this way for him. Your shiny new toy status had no effect on him. He had every shiny toy he ever wanted. You had no appeal to him.

Harry, however, Draco stole glances over from time to time. The green-eyed jock pouted throughout the entire lesson, stealing glances over to you. You hardly noticed. Instead you were doodling in your notebook, waiting for the teacher to move on.

Maybe the stars aligned, or maybe you did fascinate him, but Draco found himself in the lunch line next to you the following day as another tried to ask you to the girls choice ball.

“So, I heard you turned down Potter,” Cedric gave off-hand. “Waiting to ask someone else then?”

Draco snorted, and this time you did give him the slightest glare before turning back to Cedric.

“I’m not going,” You answered curtly, grabbing fruit from the stand. “And no, I don’t plan on asking anyone.”

“Why aren’t you going?” Cedric almost pouted.

“There doesn’t have to be a reason.” You snapped. “I’m not going,”

Draco could only imagine the glare that you gave Cedric for him to back off so quickly. Again, a smile quirked at his lips. You might be the shiny new toy, but you weren’t going to be used like a porcelain doll.

“So, has she asked anyone yet?” Pansy asked as he sat beside her at their usual lunch table.

“She’s not going, and you totally missed her going off on Diggory,” Draco grinned. “That girl has to have a glare that rivals yours,”

“She turns down Potter and Diggory... do you think maybe she’s into chicks?” Pansy asked almost hopeful.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides, she’s not going to the dance so go ask Greengrass before it’s too late,”

Pansy sulked and stabbed her salad with a bit more vigor than before.

You stormed into the chemistry classroom a bit more irritated than he had seen you in the cafeteria. He wanted to guess that another guy had tried to ask you to the girl’s choice dance because honestly it amused him to see you so upset. It was cute how riled up you could get from some unwanted attention. He wondered how far you’d have to be pushed before you actually started swinging. Maybe he wanted to find out.

“So,” He asked pointedly. “Anyone else try to ask you to the dance?” 

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” You hissed making him grin wider.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“If you even start to finish that, I won’t be so forgiving,” Your hand clenched into a fist and Draco thought that maybe you’d actually try to hit him, but Snape walked in as the bell rang, taking any chance away from you.

Draco sat back smugly in his chair—to your great annoyance—as class droned on. At the end of the hour Draco followed you out, calling your name. You froze in the hallway, before turning to face him.

“I’m really not in the mood right now Draco,” Your strained voice gave a hint of weariness. “What is even with you guys? Can’t you just leave a girl alone? I’m not going to the stupid dance and I’m not just saying that so I can ask someone else,”

Before Draco could get a word in you stalked away, disappearing in the crowd. And he stood there, dumbfounded. Was he not amused an hour ago about your annoyance? Did it not make him smile that you were tortured by your suitors? Why all of a sudden was he frowning and loathing Potter and Diggory—and whatever poor bloke had the unfortunate courage to ask you before class—even more for winding you up?

“It was Krum,” Pansy didn’t even say hello as she sat next to him in Spanish. “He was the one who tried to ask her,”

“She said no to Krum?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “You might be right, she really might swing the other way,”

“Aw, but I already asked Daphne,” Pansy pouted.

“Pans, darling, I think if anyone else breathes near her about the dance she’s gonna send someone to the nurse,” Draco chuckled. “So maybe you dodged a bullet there,”

She sighed wistfully. “Still, it’s nice to dream,”

____________________________________

“So, did you ask anyone to the dance yet?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I huffed, kicking off my shoes. “I’m not going to that stupid dance,”

“Well, I know it’s probably not as glitzy as your uptown shindigs, but you should still go and have fun,” My dad set down his paper. “Make some friends while you’re here,” His tone was hopeful, as I knew it would be.

He wanted me to be happy here. He wanted me to fit in and enjoy my time in the middle of nowhere. It was a farfetched dream. But it was mine, I supposed.

“I have a few friends,” I insisted. “But I’m not one for dances... and the guys in town aren’t exactly... appealing,” I decided.

“Well, not that a father will complain about his daughter not wanting to date, but maybe you should go with a group of friends or something?”

“Everyone’s paired off, dad,” I sighed, looking in the fridge for something to make for dinner.

As I set off to do my chemistry homework, my mind meandered to my chem partner. It was out of character that he spoke to me today. Normally we disregarded another in comfortable silence. It had been that way since I showed up. And though it might have stung a bit in the beginning, I could tell quickly that Draco and his friends were the wrong sort of crowd that I didn’t want to be caught up in. The kind of crowds that I escaped by moving from my city life.

And I liked the crowd I had found; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all very sweet and welcoming on my first day and had sort of adopted me into their group without looking back. Not that there was much depth in any of their lunchroom conversations, but at least I wasn’t alone. Hermione was the only one I could hold a conversation with—she had AP classes as I did and was a saint when I needed homework guidance.

Chemistry, however, was the one subject she couldn’t help me with. She had opted out for AP Environmental instead, claiming she had done her time with Snape and would rather dropout than be in his class another year.

So, it left me begrudgingly texting Draco about tonight’s homework. He was the only other one in class that seemed to keep up easily. Maybe it was because he was a shoe shiner class pet of Snape’s.

Malfoy: Oh, so you’re talking to me now. Don’t want yell at me again?

My cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment at his response. He was never one to hold back what he was thinking—even if it was brutal.

Y/n: I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t fair to you. I’d give a reason, but I doubt you’d care

Malfoy: Pansy already told me that Krum tried to ask you to the dance. That’s what? Three guys now? If I hadn’t stopped her, Pansy wanted to ask you too.

Y/n: At least it would have been a girl asking me to a girl’s choice

Y/n: And you’re short one, Ron asked me too

Malfoy: Weasel? Wow. Never thought he’d have the guts to ask anyone 

Y/n: He’s actually going with Hermione

Y/n: Now will you please help me on 7?

And to my surprise, Draco was quite civil about walking me through the covalent bonding prompts. It made me feel a bit more guilty about snapping at him earlier today.

Seeing how I struggled on the homework, I wasn’t surprised that Harry came over during study hall and asked me for help on the same, if not more, questions. After the first couple, he griped that I was too similar to Hermione for knowing it all. And that it wasn’t fair that it came so easily to me.

“Actually, Draco helped me,” I smiled as I showed my notes to Harry for the next question. “He might help you if you ask,”

That was a long shot. Harry hated Draco and vice versa. It didn’t take me long to figure that one out.

“Malfoy helped you? Like actually helped you?” Harry scoffed. “The little prat,”

“Hey,” I warned snatching my notes away. “If you’re not gonna be nice about it I won’t let you use my notes,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Harry pouted. “You know I was kidding,”

“Yahuh. Sure Harry,”

“Oh, come on,” Harry tried again. “He’s a prat. Always has been,”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore of Harry’s lamenting, and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be in the library,”

Wordlessly I left, fuming slightly. The music from my headphones thawed out my anger towards Harry a bit as I pushed the doors of the library open and sat at a table, pulling out my calculus homework to go over it one last time.

“This seat taken?”

I barely heard the question over my music. My eyes darted up to meet steady grey ones.

“It’s a free country,” I shrugged then remembered that I want particularly irate towards Draco at the moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I murmured, taking out one of my headphones. “For the chem help,”

“I might have had an ulterior motive,” Draco mumbled, pulling out a binder.

“If you think I’m gonna ask you to the dance because you helped me with my homework you have another thing coming Malfoy,” I warned.

“I think every guy in the school has got that by now,” a smile played at his lips. “No, I... I need help in McGonagall,” He was almost sheepish to admit it.

I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but he did seem genuine about needing help.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help, but I can try. My old teacher, Jones had a different way of explaining it...” I trailed off, a pang of remorse about leaving my old school in my chest.

And maybe the way Jones taught me made more sense to Draco because he did eventually start to understand the calculus on the paper beneath us. I realized that Draco was very methodical. He enjoyed having rules that worked every time no matter the question. A failsafe that kept him ahead of the curve.

“Do you miss it?” He asked as we started to pack for the next hour. 

“Miss what?”

“Your old school? It has to be a lot different than this hell hole,” His words were nonchalant but still skeptical.

“It’s not so bad here,” I defended weakly. “But... I miss it, yeah. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again. Back home—back in New York no one questioned me. The teachers trusted me... the staff knew me...” I sighed. “I’m a stranger here.”

The warning bell rang and the same sense of dread that settled upon me reflected in Draco’s eyes: we were halfway across campus and there was little hope of getting to Snape’s class in the two minutes we had left.

Both scrambling, we headed for the doors and tore down the hall. I followed Draco’s path because if I was honest, I still didn’t quite know my way around the school nor the quickest ways to certain buildings.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snap looked down disapprovingly at me. “I hope you have reason for being late or it’s Saturday detention for you,”

My anxiety spiked as I fumbled out an explanation. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stand, ready to come to my defense, but there was no need. Flawlessly Draco directed the attention of the irritated teacher to him with a sly smile and quick lie, that wasn’t really a lie at all.

“It was my fault,” Draco smoothed quickly. “I was having Y/n help me with McGonagall’s homework and I kept her late.”

Snape’s eyes darted between the two of us before he sighed, telling us to get to our seats before he gave out detentions for disrupting his class.

With a breath of relief, I sat beside Draco. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He shrugged and took out his notes and homework just as Snape began to go over it. And we went back to ignoring each other. Except, this time, it deemed impossible for me not to glance at him every so often, or for my eyes not to drift to his notes on the table, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything. The hour seemed to end quicker than normal. As usual, Harry walked to gym with me, chatting about the upcoming game before the dance this weekend.

“So, you and Malfoy?” The comment caught me off guard. “I don’t like it,”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing Harry,” I shrugged. “No need to let your little feud make up wild stories. He just needed help with calc,”

“Sure, the golden boy needed help with his homework,” Harry said flatly. “That’s believable.” 

“And what about it is so farfetched?” I demanded.

“He’s doing it for some reason. He knows you turned me down, maybe he’s trying to get at me by being nice to you,” The offhand comment had my blood boiling.

“Are you serious right now!?” I snapped. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t see past your own ego!?”

Storming off, the only relief from my anger I was allowed happened when I ‘accidentally’ pelted Harry with a ball in the face, sending him to the nurse. When my anger faded, doubt remained. Was Draco only trying to be nice to me to get at Harry? From what I knew of Draco secondhand, I wouldn’t put it past him.

______________________________

Draco was shocked when Snape had called on you for a homework answer, and you admitted that you didn’t know. Didn’t you know that he didn’t mind you texting him about the homework? That helping you wasn’t the worst waste of his time in the world? You had done it before. Not days ago. And yet you allowed yourself to be ridiculed by Snape for your lack of habitual knowledge.

You didn’t notice the small frown that lingered on his face for the remainder of class as you kept your head down and doodled in your notebook. Deciding that he didn’t like your comatose, he did something that deemed childish: he passed you a note.

You ok?

You stared at the paper and looked over at him, biting your lip before scribbling: 

Fine. Pay attention.

Rolling his eyes, he took the paper back and wrote:

I can’t if you’re over here moping.

You took the small piece of paper and crumpled it in your hands, shoving it into your bag. Draco decided to leave you alone for the rest of the hour his curiosity still burning through him. A quick meeting of Harry’s livid stare, and Draco had a better idea of what was going on. He just hoped, for perhaps the first time ever, that he was wrong.

“Oi, what the hell did you say to Y/n?” Draco demanded, singling Potter out in the hall the next morning.

His curiosity and suspicions had festered over the night. Draco had made the conscious decision to text you, asking if you needed help with chem, and your lack of response had him worrying again.

“What are you going on about Malfoy?” Ron crossed his arms, coming to Harry’s defense.

“Stay out of this weasel,” Draco hissed, noticing the crowd that began to gather around the small confrontation. Most of his attention, however stayed focused on cold green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy,” Harry tipped his chin back. “What? Is she not bowing down at your feet like you’re used too?” A laugh barked out of him and Weasley and a few other onlookers.

“At least she’s got enough self-respect to not be on her knees for you,” Draco heard the familiar condescending voice of Pansy beside him. A grin curled onto his face at her words.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that it seemed, and it further proved Draco’s suspicions. 

“So, you did say something to her,” He accused. “She got her not a month ago and you’re already dragging her into our mutual hatred?” Draco wouldn’t stoop that low. It was pathetic. 

“Well if you hadn’t gone and pretended to need help with McGonagall’s work, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Harry gritted, as if he had the high ground.

“As opposed to you who pretends he doesn’t need help them blames others when he fails?” Draco snapped.

There was quite a large crowd gathering around now, and he and Harry were less than a foot apart. Both boys were on the verge of snapping.

“Draco?”

Your voice was enough to distract him that he didn’t see Harry throw the first punch. Pain blistered across his jaw as fury burned in his eyes. Now the kids around them were chanting and egging on the fight. But Draco never had the chance to swing back.

Because you had drove yourself into the cleared circle and delivered a few punches of your own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You shouted at him kneeing him in the groin leaving him keeled over, groaning. “I told you to back the fuck off!”

Draco wasn’t as surprised at the comment as he was about the knowledge that you knew how to beat the pulp out of a star football player without a whim. You never seemed like the athletic type but the blood pouring from Harry’s nose begged that you were slightly more dangerous than Draco had originally thought.

“Are you okay?” Your wild worried eyes were trained on him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, but the hurt that flickered across your face made him regret them.

He wished he had time to explain exactly why you shouldn’t have done that, but McGonagall and Snape were already upon the scene and threatening detentions. He and Harry, of course, were called out as the other students scattered.

“McGonagall, please,” You stood loyally beside him, despite his harsh words. “Draco didn’t have a hand in this, I did.”

Both teachers raised their eyebrows in surprise. Draco just gaped at you. Harry was glaring and still bleeding.

“I see. All three of you go to Dumbledore’s office.” She said, her careful eyes not leaving yours.

Harry strode off first, perhaps feeling smug in the fact that either way, you or Draco would be in trouble for this encounter. Draco wondered if you knew you had just bought yourself three days suspension for fighting.

You were silent beside him as you flexed your hand. He pondered if you had hurt it in your fervor. He almost asked you. Then he remembered the hurt on your face at his last words and decided against it. You wouldn’t want to talk to him.

“So,” Dumbledore said pointedly. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish today in the hall,” An amused smile sat upon the principal’s face, no doubt taking in Harry’s state. Draco wondered if his skin was bruising yet.

“It was me,” Draco said not realizing what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t you even,” You were scathing at him, your hands clenched again, pain flitting across your face—you definitely hurt your hand then. You turned to Dumbledore. “Harry swung at Draco and I stepped in. I’m the one who did it.”

“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow.

Harry seemed like he was debating whether or not he wanted to admit getting beat up by a girl. The thought made Draco smile, causing his jaw to hurt. He tried to flex it but halted when pain blossomed again.

“That’s what happened,” Harry admitted under his breath.

“And why, Mr. Malfoy, did Potter swing at you?” Dumbledore turned to him, an amused smile lingering on his face.

“I thought that Harry had said something to her that hurt her. She... wasn’t keeping up on homework and it was unlike her. After she turned Harry’s proposal to the dance down, I thought...”

“You turned down Mr. Potter’s proposal to the girl’s choice dance?” The principal turned back to you.

“His, Weasley’s, Cedric’s, Viktor’s,” You muttered, much to Dumbledore’s delight as the older man began to chuckle.

“Had quite a welcome here, haven’t you?”

“You could say that again,” Folding your arms, your face became solemn. 

“And do you have a reason for your actions?”

“I don’t like bullies, no matter where they come from,” Confidence founded your voice as you squared your shoulder. Never once had Draco ever heard someone call Harry a bully. The words had always been reversed. Everyone in the school saw the reputation in Draco, never Harry.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d have to suspend you and Mr. Potter here, but instead, I’m suspending you from being allowed to the dance this weekend. All three of you,”

“But sir!” Harry argued.

“Not another word Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore rose from his office chair. “My decision is final.”

Three ‘yes sir’s were mumbled as the three of you filed out of the office. You began to walk away, towards your next class Draco assumed, but he caught your non-injured hand, Harry slinking away himself.

“Let me go,” You shrugged him off.

“Wait,” Draco caught up to you, blocking you in the narrow hall of the office. “Look, about what I said,”

“Forget it Draco,” You snapped, and he could see unshed tears in your eyes. “Just leave me alone,” You pressed past him with a bit more force than necessary that had him after you again.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He called, and you actually paused, your head turning in interest.

“Then what did you mean?” Your voice with thick. “Cuz all I see is a rich little prat who can’t say thank you. Or a self-centered guy who thinks I need someone to fight my battles for me. A high and mighty guy who thinks he can tell me what to do,” Your words were sharp and snarled. “So please, tell me what you meant.” The challenge dripped dangerously from your scowl.

“I...” Draco fumbled for the right words. “I’m not worth getting suspended for,” Your anger turned to confusion, turned sympathy, turned neutral.

“But I’m worth fighting for,” It was a stubborn and bold declaration. “And I know that,” A pause as you turned to leave. “So yeah, I should have done that,”

___________________________

I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face as I nearly ran to the parking lot, yearning for the safety of my car. Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated yell and slumped in the seat.

The backroads under my tires held a calming solace as I drove the long way home. It was something that New York couldn’t replace: the backroads I had grown up on. With the windows down and the radio blaring, all of my thoughts were tuned out.

At a red light, I found the courage to call my father and explain what happened. He said I was grounded this weekend for fighting, but I didn’t mind much. It got me out of having to go to the dance, even if Dumbledore hadn’t already said I couldn’t. I smiled when my dad told me he was proud for standing up for myself and beating the hell out of Harry.

I found myself smiling as I pulled in at home. Icing my hand and popping some pain killers just in case, I scrolled through my notifications, only answering Hermione. I didn’t care what the school gossiped about or what rumors started because of the fight. Hermione just wanted to know if I was okay and if I’d want her to send the homework from the classes I missed. I told her yes to both and thanked her.

Another notification popped up.

Draco: are you okay? how’s your hand?

I stared at the notification, and instead of deleting the icon like I should have, I opened it and gazed at the words. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. I thought about ignoring it, but he had already seen that I had read it. Cursing modern technology, I responded.

Y/n: fine

Mulling it over, I sent another text.

Y/n: can you send me the chem homework? please

The messages that followed were unexpected. Steady and clear photos of his notes for the day— and week it looked like—as well as the worksheet Snape had given. I felt a pang if gratitude towards Draco in that moment and his words from earlier settled in.

Draco has confronted Harry because he was worried about me. Somehow, he had picked up on how Harry’s words had affected me and driven me into doubt and a few missing homework assignments. Tears sprung back up in my eyes without my consent. It left me regretting the words I had snapped at him earlier. I let him know as much with another text.

Draco: most of it was justified

Draco: I know I’m not the easiest person to know 

Y/n: I was still wrong to say it. I’m sorry

Y/n: and you’re not so bad :)

There wasn’t a response from him for half an hour, so I settled down and began to transcribe his notes into my own notebook, then began to untangle the questions that the worksheet gave me. The crumpled note from a few days ago spilled out of my bag. I took it, unfurling it, running my hand over his words. I tucked it in my chemistry binder, smiling softly at his kindness.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the next day as I drove up to school and parked in my usual spot. I felt torn between two clicks—probably the only two clicks this school had, and I had managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war—the thing that I wanted to escape by moving back in with my dad and I still managed to find myself in the same situations. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the problem.

Shaking the thought, I headed to first hour just as the bell rang in my efforts to avoid confrontation. Other than a few approving comments from my sorta friends, no one seemed put out that I had fought their golden boy. It eased my anxiety as the day went on. I was quelled a bit more when I heard that Harry wasn’t in school today. And maybe I smiled at that a bit.

“The jackass deserved it,” Ginny shrugged, “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have hesitated either,”

She calmed the majority of my fears with her words unknowingly. If there had been one person I didn’t want to cross it was Ginny—she was fierce and took no prisoners. If the school had a queen bee, it would have been Gin.

“Is your hand alright?” Luna asked during art class. “You seem a bit off your game today,” She noticed my failing live portrait.

Luna was always quiet but observant of others, and it drew me towards the peaceful girl. Her calm nature as well as my fierce need to protect her from bullies kept me as her partner despite the seat changes in Trelawney’s art class. The teacher didn’t seem to care as Luna and I were some of her best students although Luna’s whimsical style contrasted my realistic preference heavily.

“It hurts a bit,” I answered truthfully. “But not enough to cry about,” There were yellow and purplish tinges to my knuckles, but nothing was broken.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Luna semi-whispered. “Are you and Draco together?”

“No,” I answered a bit more harshly than I meant and refined my answer. “I was tired of Harry being an egotistical ass and dragging me into it,”

“He’s probably just jealous,” Luna gave offhand, adding some shading to her sketch. “Boys are like that,”

“Jealous? Of what?” I scoffed. “He’s with Ginny, and it’s not like I fancy anyone at this school,”

“Yes, I heard about all the failed proposals to the dance.” A smile touched her lips, “Regardless, from the outside, the only person you’ve shown interest in is Draco, and Harry doesn’t like it,”

“Well, he needs to get over it,” I muttered. “I’m not some prize to be won,”

My annoyance didn’t fade as I slumped into my seat at lunch, grateful that Harry was absent today because I might have just gone off on him again. Stupid teenage boys thinking they have some claim over a girl.

Harry was back the next day, looking worse for wear. I went to apologize, but he didn’t allow me too, saying he deserved it and the he was the one who was sorry. I wondered if Ginny had a hand in his apology. Shrugging, I decided it didn’t matter. At least Harry, and maybe everyone else at the small school, knew that I could handle myself.

The weekend passed, and I didn’t notice much. Hermione sent me a few pictures of the dance. They held no interest to me, but at least they were having fun.

On Monday, it seemed that Draco had gone back to ignoring me. At least that’s how it appeared for about the first half of Snape’s lecture. Then every so often I’d catch him staring at me, or my notes. His eyes would quickly dart down when he realized that I had noticed his gazes. It left me frowning and struggling to focus.

It was Wednesday that Hermione and I talked about the calculus test coming up on Friday. I glanced over to Draco, wondering if he’d need help or a study partner for the exam. I wondered if he’d be too proud to ask. Or if I’d be too stubborn to offer.

“Go over there and ask,” Hermione nudged my arm, picking up on my train of thought.

“I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “Besides, you’d be a better tutor than I am,”

“Yes, but Draco doesn’t like me. You on the other hand,” An amused smile lingered on her face.

“We’re friends,” I insisted. “That’s all,”

“More than it was last week,” She pointed out. “Draco’s always been a stuffy prat, but I see how he is with you. He’s almost... normal.”

My eyes shifted back over to his lunch table, where he was hunched over a book, tuning out the dark-haired girl beside him as she prattled about something adamantly. Something the girl said must have caught Draco’s attention, perhaps she warned him about my gaze, because his eyes met mine. I looked down quickly, my cheeks flushing.

“He’s coming over,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop staring,” I hissed under my breath, breaking my own rule by looking up.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was quiet and guarded, his eyes sliding over my company. 

“What’s up?” I asked casually.

“Alone?”

I looked to Hermione who was saying if I didn’t go, she’d never forgive me with a single look.

“Sure,” I stood, gathering my things and followed him out of the cafeteria and down the halls, to the library. “Did you want help for the calc test Friday?” I asked softly as we sat at the same table as our previous encounter.

“Well, yes,” He chuckled softly. “I... also wanted to talk to you... about last week, and...” His eyes refused to meet mine. I waited in silence for him to continue. “This... this doesn’t have to be anything, and I know you’d probably rather it weren’t... but I’ve never actually...”

I raised my eyebrows, leaning closer to him, the butterflies in my chest growing more restless with each second that passed. They had begun to arrive on the day of the fight, and now it seemed like they were taking flight for the first time.

“You came here a month ago... and in that time have managed to capture every guys heart in this school and then proceeded to turn most of them down. You’ve gotten into fights and out of trouble and you’re really someone I should avoid, but... I don’t want to, not anymore.”

“You think you should avoid me?” The question was soft on my lips. His eyes flashed to mine in brief panic.

“Again, not what you think,” He sighed and scrubbed his face, then proceeded to wince at the pain that no doubt was triggered by his action. “I should avoid you because if I’m being honest, I’m not much better than Harry, and I wouldn’t be someone you’d want to be with. And it would make it easier for the both of us if I avoided you.”

“Cards on the table then?” I mused softly and he nodded, begging my candor. “I know what they say about you. And I have my own opinions, but...” I paused and smiled. “You are the first guy who hasn’t acted like an arrogant jackass to me,” Then mended, “At least in a way that hasn’t made me want to deck you,”

“That’s comforting,” A smile reached his eyes this time.

“And... if it had to be anyone... I’d probably want it to be you,” This surprised him, told by the expression on his face. “In terms of intelligence, I feel semi-confident to say that you wouldn’t drive me mad with your lack of knowledge, because most of the kids at this school are so dull,” I muttered then continued. “You’ve been kind to me, and never pushed me into doing anything I haven’t wanted to do,”

“So, you wanted to beat the shit out of Potter then?” The same smile turned to a grin.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” I chuckled softly. “You gave me a valid excuse, to which I thank you,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? For ya know, being my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue?”

I laughed at his words and shook my head at his antics.

“Does that make you my damsel in distress?” It never occurred to me how easy it might be to talk to Draco, considering we’d barely said a word to each other since my arrival.

“If I must be,” He feigned distaste, the smile not leaving his face long enough to convince me of his façade.

A silence fell between us.

“Is this something then?” His words were riddled with uncertainty.

“It’s not nothing,” I offered. “But I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Would you be willing to see what it is?” Draco’s voice turned hopeful.

“If you’re willing to be patient,” My eyes met his grey ones, storms above the seas held in them. “I don’t really... date. Flings and a list of exes isn’t really on my bucket list ya know?”

“Understandable,” His smile returning. “Not that I prefer them either,”

I sighed softly. “People are gonna talk, if they’re not already,” It was a defeating thought.

“Let them talk,” Draco shrugged, lost in thought. “That’s all they do. No matter where you go,”

“It’s a bit worse in a small town,” I challenged.

“I’ll give you that,” He chuckled. “But things are a bit less scandalous in a small town,”

“Granted,” I thought of New York and how the smallest things morphed into rumors and gossip that took down empires. Here, in the middle of nowhere our problems seemed almost trivial.

“So,” He raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting my verdict.

“So,” I mimicked. “This... this can be something,”

 ______________________________

Draco had never once thought of dating. Ever. Whereas Pansy couldn’t wait to have her next summer love, Draco... he was reserved. Not that he ever held it against Pansy, and of course he was there to curse the name of her exes with her, but him dating? It was laughable.

He could claim that ‘you weren’t like other girls,’ but it’d be a lie. You were just the perfect mix of being like other girls that appealed to him so much. The girls he had passed in the halls for years and never once felt attraction to were now suddenly a bit more interesting. Granger had calculus with you and was very good at the subject, sharing your passion for it. Ginny had the same fire in her eyes as you did when you were angry. Even Lovegood seemed less like a spaz and a bit more down to earth in the few passing moments that he saw her when picking you up from art class.

“I might warn you,” he whispered gently the next day, hand in yours as you headed to the cafeteria. “Pansy has been dying to talk to you... so heads up,”

A laugh fell through your lips as he opened the door for you, the cafeteria, once buzzing solemnly was now almost hushed as eyes turned to the couple at the door.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

Draco tensed at the curt calling of his name but relaxed when you smiled and waved to Ginny.

“Come sit with us,” The redhead offered. “No need in you taking Y/n away from us,”

“Get Pansy,” You smiled, letting his hand go as you went to drop your stuff at the table before heading toward the lunch line.

“Can I talk to her now?” Pansy demanded.

“She’s all yours,” Draco chuckled, trailing behind his dark-haired friend, a smile resting on his face as you entertained all of Pansy’s question with unbelievable grace.

Tensions were high as Draco sat with you at your usual lunch table, Pansy on his other side, but it seemed that you, Ginny, and Hermione had the boys under control, so nothing more than loathsome glares were exchanged before the conversation settled into something pleasant.

It took a couple weeks, but the bruises on your hand and his jaw faded, then soon Harry’s broken nose was healed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. As if it were preposterous that your group ever had animosity against another.

True to your word and his, it wasn’t exactly dating. He dedicated a lot of his effort to figuring out what you were comfortable with and what you weren’t. Something that appealed to both of you was holding hands in the hallways. The gawking faces of those around you seemed to keep a smile on your face. You had tamed the rich prat and he had tamed the spitfire in their eyes. And perhaps he was a bit kinder to those around him. And maybe you weren’t as volatile. Maybe you had finally settled into the small town.

Slowly it seemed, you sifted into the role of a girlfriend—well, whatever the equivalent was for you and him. It took some coaxing and a compromise, but you allowed him to pick you up and drive you to school—three out of five days of the week. He looked forward to those mornings and didn’t mind leaving earlier as long as you were at the end of the road under his tires. You were defiant about him paying for things, mundane things like lunch or random gifts, so he tried to keep it at a minimum, or at least didn’t let on how much he had spent on you.

Draco was never one for physical affection. His parents had been distant and reserved. Closed off. He wasn’t bitter about it, but he was worried that it might affect how he was around you. But it seems that you were a bit standoffish as well. The abrasion faded over time, but it was still never over abundant. You held his hand, that was easy and almost routine for the both of you, and though he hadn’t kissed you yet, displays of make outs in the halls never appealed to any part of him. Ever.

But he wouldn’t forget the first time you kissed him. It was a quiet night at your place after you two had studied for Snape’s final. You declared if you looked at another carbon bond you were going to scream, so you slammed your binder shut and led him to the old sofa and pulled him down, both of you nestled beside another as you flickered through TV stations, settling on something that held half your interest.

His arm draped around your shoulder, a gentle sign of affection that you returned by resting your head on his shoulder, your arm stretching across his stomach, holding him. His hand absentmindedly played in your hair, earning soft sounds of agreement from your lips as he continued. Your exhausted face in the TV light held all of his interest. The way your eyelashes fluttered eleven your eyes changed focus, or the way you worried your lip now and again almost thoughtlessly. Never knowing that it drove him mad.

Draco called your name softly, earning your attention. Your faces were inches apart and he could feel your soft breaths mix with his. Your eyes searched his for something—what exactly he wasn’t sure. But you must have decided that whatever you found was enough, because you leaned up and closed the distance between your lips and his.

He smiled at the moment and the ones that followed. The desire that built in his chest and the gentle pant of need that left your lips, flushing across his as you pulled away.

“Thank you,” You had murmured.

He smiled at you simple gratitude and wondered why you thought it necessary. Did you believe that he didn’t want to kiss you? That you weren’t constantly in his psyche? Imagining how soft and warm your skin must be? Wondering if the rest of you was worked and scarred like your hands from years of use?

Not knowing what you were thinking—or why he was for that matter—he pulled you into his lap as the two of you sat on the couch, cradling you close, letting you know that he craved your affection though he wasn’t the best at portraying the ideal.

You had fallen asleep in his lap that night. When your dad came in to check on the two of you, Draco thought your father would be furious but instead he smiled and suggested that Draco carry you to your room so that you could stretched out on your bed and sleep for the night. Those were the few moments that Draco had ever been in your room. It was one of your fathers rules—which he humbly agreed to. The sight made him smile. It was perfectly you. An organized chaos of all of your favorite things.

You barely noticed him setting you into your bed and pulling the covers over your shoulders after removing you shoes.

He preferred your home over his. It took about two months before you coaxed him into the idea of meeting his parents formally. Draco was terrified, knowing that his parents disapproved just about everyone in the town they lived in, save a few families. He wasn’t sure how they felt about the divorcee and his daughter living on the outskirts of town.

“You understand how much of a bad idea this is?” Draco hissed as he walked you up the front steps of the pristine farmhouse—it was the last attempt he made before it was too late to back out.

“They’re just your parents,” You took his hand, saying the words nonchalantly.

“That’s why I’m worried! They’re my parents!” He dismayed.

“Dray, love, it’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, and he couldn’t argue with the honesty in your eyes.

You’d never stop surprising him. He didn’t think ever. He knew his parents were hard people to entertain. There were thousands of unspoken rules that they forced him to follow and you picked up on them as easily as you knew calculus. Sit one way, speak another, you blended in flawlessly. Your persona differed from the one he knew, but it was still perfectly you.

“And you moved here? From New York?” His father eyed you skeptically.

 “Father—” A cold look silenced Draco.

“Yes sir,” Your smile was sweet and conniving.

“Was the city not satisfactory for you?”

“It had a certain charm,” You spoke softly. “But I didn’t want to give my teenage years to a concrete jungle when I could call here my home,”

“Well,” Draco’s mother cut in before his father had a change to reply. “You sure do have quite a spirit in you. I can see what our Draco likes about you,”

You smiled and looked over at him. The blush on your cheeks matched his.

“Thank you,”

Lunch came and passed. If it was out of the ordinary in any way to you, you gave no sign.

You did however, pause, gazing at his grand piano that sat in the drawing room, your face pensive.

“You play?” He mused, curious. You hadn’t let on if your hidden talent. 

“Not very well,” You muttered back. “It’s been years.”

“Y/n, do you play my dear?” His mother cut in. “You must play for us,”

“I...” Glancing at the piano, you caught your lip in worry.

“Mother, if she isn’t comfortable, she doesn’t have to,” Draco defended.

“No, it’s alright... you must forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve played properly.”

The shy smile on your face didn’t fade as you made your way to the instrument. He shadowed you all the while, asking one more time before you began to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your smile turned warmer. “It’ll be alright.”

Draco watched as you placed your hands on the glossy white keys and fell into a pattern as they searched for the next note, the next chord, the next verse. And you kept forging ahead until your piece had come to an end. Draco should have known that you’d lie about having the talent tucked away.

“That was lovely,” His mother fawned from somewhere behind. “Draco you must play with her,”

The eyebrow you raised at him informed him that maybe he also hid the talent from you unintentionally. Who did you think the piano belonged to?

“Any ideas?” He muttered softly, placing his hands on the keys next to yours.

“Moonlight Sonata?” It was a simple request, and one that he knew decently enough to nod.

Draco began the repetitive harmony as you waited for the melody and joined him. Your fingers played in time and in tune as the song unfolded—your hands trailing along the treble clef and his adding in the deeper bass tones.

It wasn’t until one of his hands ran into yours that the dance faltered, and four hands banged on the keys in frustration. Draco laughed at the simple fact that you had the same response to making a mistake as he did while playing. Your soft laughter joined his.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and you both turned, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of his father. Draco looked down anxious and respectful and you followed suit, your hand finding his in reassurance.

“Perhaps if you two had more time to practice together, you two wouldn’t be tripping over another.” His father mused.

“Father?” Draco looked up. “Does that mean?”

“Yes, she is welcomed here any time she wishes.” His father gave a small smile.

 Relief flooded through both of you. Draco might have even slouched momentarily. 

.

Masterlist

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[vanilla107]

Five Minutes of Sunset

Before the Curse of Sarah Fier series

Summary:

 “We meeting after? Same spot? Sam gonna be there?” she asked, and Deena nodded.

“Simon too. He said he got us discounted food!” Kate said excitedly.

“I hope you know that means that the food is about to expire,” Deena said, deadpanned.

“Whatever! Food is food and I’m not going to turn down chicken wings and all the candy bars I can eat.” ~~~ Four friends get together on a Friday afternoon to talk shit about Sunnyvale and watch the sunset. 

Also titled as: I JUST WANT TO WRITE FICS WHERE EVERYONE LIVES AND ARE HAPPY LIKE FUCK THEM DYING. GIMME MY FAVS BACK.

Read on AO3

It was a usual overcast Friday afternoon in Shadyside and Deena stretched her arms over her head as she headed towards the Shadyside High girl's locker room. The potent smell of floral body spray made her sneeze as she entered the room, high pitched voices bouncing off the walls and she winced before making a beeline down the corridor towards the toilets.

Her breath caught in her throat though, when she saw Samantha Fraser walking away from the toilets and towards her, and the grin that Sam gave her was enough to make her stomach knot.

Sam’s blonde hair glimmered under the crappy fluorescent lights and usually, Deena would have questioned that because the lighting was really shit but she didn’t care. Sam had already changed into her Shadyside cheerleader uniform, the blue and black standing out against her skin and her toned legs on display. Deena realised that she was shamelessly checking Sam out but before she could look away, Sam’s hand gently brushed against hers.

“I’ll see you later? The Spot?” she whispered, and Deena gave her a small nod before they walked past each other.

Deena’s heart could’ve exploded but she contained herself before turning left to the cubicles. There were two other band girls, Krystal and Lili, at the sinks chatting about some test they had earlier that day and Deena gave them a nod before walking to the end of the room where Kate, her best friend, was checking her hair. Kate grinned when she spotted Deena and gave her a hug. With black hair in a neat ponytail, a spotless record and dark eyes that could pick up the smallest detail, Kate was a good friend to have.

"How was AP English?" Deena asked and Kate rolled her eyes.

"Insufferable as always. Gary was a prick and decided to argue with me on every point I made while discussing Macbeth. I get that he doesn't like me, but fuck can he just give it a rest?” she groaned as she rolled her shoulders back.

“You do realise that he probably likes you, right? C’mon Kate, that’s the oldest trick in the book. He’s probably being an asshole to get your attention.”

“It’s stupid and if he thinks that it’s some form of flirting, then he’s dead wrong,” Kate huffed before looking at Deena’s gym bag.

“You getting ready for band?”

Deena heard Krystal and Lili take turns at the hand dryer before walking down the corridor, their retreating steps and voices echoing.

“Yep. And you have cheer practice,” Deena sighed, and Kate looked around, as if to check that no one was listening to them, before giving her a smirk and lowering her voice.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hog your girlfriend for too long. Besides, I’m there to yell and be on top of the pyramid.”

They both knew that was a lie. Despite Kate’s dismissive attitude towards cheerleading and all her other societies, she took it all seriously so that she could ‘Get the hell out of Shittyside’. She planned choreographies, sold extra drugs to raise money for cheer uniform upgrades and more. Deena felt that Kate did too much for a town that seemed against them with their nickname ‘Murder Capital USA’, but she knew that between the two of them, Kate deserved to get out.

“Oh please. We both know you do more than that,” Deena scoffed, and Kate shrugged her shoulders.

“We meeting after? Same spot? Sam gonna be there?” she asked, and Deena nodded.

“Simon too. He said he got us discounted food!” Kate said excitedly.

“I hope you know that means that the food is about to expire,” Deena said, deadpanned.

“Whatever! Food is food and I’m not going to turn down chicken wings and all the candy bars I can eat.”

“I gotta get changed and you should get going. Don’t want to be late for practice,” Deena said with a smile and Kate flipped her off before leaving her to get changed in one of the cubicles.  

Deena listened Kates’s footsteps retreat, and she undressed and changed into her band uniform. She wasn’t self-conscious of her body and didn’t mind changing in front of other people, but the girl’s locker room didn’t leave much to look at. The last thing she wanted was for a girl to point at her for staring and then the whole school would think she’s gay (which she was but that’s wasn’t the point).

Kate had managed to spin a rumour that Deena had a scar on her lower abdomen that she had gotten in an accident and was still ‘healing from the trauma’. While her eyes wouldn’t wander around the change room now that she only had eyes for Sam, it was easier to keep the rumour going and have privacy.

That was another reason Deena loved Kate. Kate could lie flawlessly, and because she was a good student, no one would think twice.

Deena opened the cubicle and adjusted her hat before heading out the locker room and to practice.

~~~

She sighed in relief as she took off her hat and threw it into her bag and changing out of her clothes and changing into a fresh set of clothing.

Most of the band kids had left soon after practice, uniform and all but Deena was headed straight to The Spot as soon she could, so avoiding a trip back home would be beneficial.

Kate and Sam had ended practice earlier and both had gone home to shower and freshen up. Deena didn’t blame them. The showers in the locker room were gross and she was sure she saw mold on the ceiling.

She shuddered before throwing on a t-shirt and jeans and heading out of the locker rooms. She waved bye to Krystal and Lili, who somehow always ended being the last ones getting changed and left the locker room.

Deena thought about the homework she had to do as she walked past the pep rally posters and the banner reading, ‘Let’s Bring It Home, Witches!’. Deena was aware that the biannual football game against Sunnyvale and Shadyside was next Friday and despite Shadyside High having a good football team, Sunnyvale almost always beat them.

It was like a joke. Every single game, a Shadyside football player got injured or a Sunnyvaler would score miraculously, and Deena didn’t mean any offence, but what was the banner supposed to mean?

What where they bringing home?

The last shreds of their dignity?

It was so embarrassing but with Sunnyvale being the only city close enough to them, Shadyside didn’t have a choice.

Deena took a deep breath in before exhaling her feelings of the rivalry between Shadyside and Sunnyvale. This last week had been exhausting but she was happy it was over, and she could spend her weekend unwinding. She didn’t need to think about Shadyside and Sunnyvale.

All she wanted to think about was her, Sam, Kate and Simon hanging out on a late Friday afternoon.

She walked out of the school and a breeze lifted a few of her curls and inwardly thanked that she had packed blankets for them. She thought about the homework she’d have to do on Sunday and the three-page assignment for English, before shaking her head and taking out her Walkman from her backpack and drowning out her thoughts.

~~~

Simon was waiting for her, at least 6 shopping bags with him on the ground and he grinned mischievously as she gestured to all the bags.

"Look if we're starting this weekend off with a bang, we're doing it right. I got mini pies, meatballs, weird little vegetable sticks, donuts with that thick icing Kate loves so much, fries with enough oil to clog up our arteries-"

"Did not need that image Simon," Deena interrupted with a shudder.

"-sugar cookies, three different types of Oreos, cupcakes and... a little magic juice," Simon said, wiggling his eyebrows as he opened one of the bags that had a brown paper bag it cheap white wine.

Deena winced at the beverage and Simon straightened up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to have. I got it because I thought we could all loosen up a little. It’s not heavy shit either but no worries if you don't want, Dee."

His tone was sincere, and she gave him a small smile. Only Kate, Sam and Simon knew about her dad’s drinking problem, and they had been over to her house enough times to see some of the empty beer cans in the bin. While Deena knew that it was her dad’s fault for drinking too much and being passed out on the couch, she couldn’t help but wonder if alcoholism ran in her family.

That last thing she wanted was to be like him.

"Thanks Simon. Now let's carry this to the spot,” she said, and he smiled dopily at her.

They grabbed three bags each and they began to walk away from the supermarket.

"I'm surprised you got off so early. Don't you usually close the store on Fridays after school?"

"Yeah, but my manager loves me so much that when I asked him and flashed my beautiful doe eyes, he told Kristen to do it instead. She looked furious," he giggled, and Deena snorted.

Simon frequently complained about Kristen Jenkins, his other co-worker, who was a nightmare. She did all her work but was always trying to one up him to get employee of the month. While Simon didn't care for the title, he liked seeing his picture on the wall and knew it would only piss if Kristen more of he was overly sweet to her.

"You know she might kill you some day," Deena laughed.

"Not if I get to her first," he said suggestively, and Deena hit him playfully.

"Pervert," she said, and he danced forward, the bags swaying in his hands.

"Nah, just a law-abiding citizen your honour!" he yelled.

They discussed their homework and their other plans for the weekend (Simon was working as usual and Deena knew she would be stuck at home with homework and looking after her brother, Josh). They walked past familiar streets and soon the gravel under their shoes became a steep rocky path as they exited their town. Deena hated this part of the walk, but their destination would be worth it. They took a left into the forest and continued their walk in a comfortable silence.

The path got steeper, and Deena gritted her teeth as she made her last step up, revealing a little patch of grass with the best view of Shadyside. She could see the grocery store, her school and even the Sheriff’s office in the distance.

It was a hidden gem that she had found one night after her dad got home drunk and in a fit of rage, left the house with no idea where to go.

She didn't want to go to any of her friend's houses and at that point, Sam wasn’t her girlfriend yet and she didn’t want to scare her away (even though Sam reassured her a few months later after Deena had confessed that her dad was hardly around). Instead, she ran. Ran to the point where her lungs were burning for air and her shirt stuck to her back with sweat. It was so dark, and she realised she had no idea where she was going. She took lefts and rights before realizing she was in the forest outside of town but eventually saw a light source and kept following it until she got to the small patch of grass that overlooked Shadyside. Deena had stayed there till sunrise, watching the world go from dark to bright and a feeling of calm passed over her as she soaked in the first rays of the day. She had made her way home to find her dad passed out on the couch and Josh still asleep, both unaware that she had been gone for nearly four hours.

She had collapsed onto her bed and slept, her anger seeping away from her bones, but the memory of the sunrise embedded in her memories. She had shown Kate and Simon that spot a week later, and it became a regular hang out for the three of them until Deena started dating Sam a few months later.

Sam had been hesitant at first to go to ‘The Spot’ as Simon had called it but then again, Sam was hesitant with almost everything concerning her budding relationship with Deena.

Deena was hoping that Sam would loosen up over time, but she knew how her mom was…strict, had high expectations and a tight grip on who was in Sam’s social life. Deena hadn’t messed up yet but knowing that Sam could disappear from her life purely because of Sam’s mother was another kind of fear. Deena had met Sam’s mom, who seemed nice enough but hearing about a fight between Sam’s mom and dad, it sounded like her mom was slightly more vicious.

“Deena? You good?” Simon asked and she blinked as she snapped out of her daydream.

“Yeah…sorry. Oh…you set up everything,” she said, raising an eyebrow at the beautiful scene in front of her.

“When you leave a retail employee alone with food that needs to be organized, you can’t expect him to not do anything. I assumed that the two fluffy blankets were for cuddles later and the other was for this picnic, so I took it out. That okay?”

Deena nodded and made herself comfortable and grabbed a mini pizza.

“Perfect Simon. So…how expired are these?” she asked, taking a sniff and Simon stared at her.

“Do you not trust me, Deena?” he gasped dramatically and before she could answer, a familiar voice from behind them yelled.

“If she did, I would be worried!”

Deena grinned as she put down the pizza and stood up to see Kate and Sam walking together. Kate was holding two bottles of apple juice and Sam had a box of cookies in her hand. Sam’s hair was damp from her shower earlier and Kate’s cheeks were a rosy red. They were both in comfy clothes and Deena hugged Kate first before hugging Sam.

“Glad you could make it, Sam,” Deena whispered, and she felt Sam hold her a little tighter.

“Me too. Snuck out the house and everything,” she giggled into her ear, and Deena’s jaw dropped.

“Wait what? Seriously? Damn Samantha sneaking out-?” Deena teased, and Sam grinned.

“Won’t your parents notice you’re gone?” Simon asked as he popped a grape into his mouth before frowning and inspecting the container. “Okay…the grapes might not be good.”

Kate raised an eyebrow and she swiped a grape before her face scrunched in disgust, “Ew no. Oh that’s disgusting. Take it away.”

Simon laughed before taking the grapes and throwing them away into one of the empty carrier bags.

“Uh…not tonight. They both have work and stuff,” Sam said, and Deena detected the hesitance in her voice. She pushed down the urge to ask what the real answer was and sighed in relief when Kate let out a squeal from behind her.

“You are fucking brilliant Simon Kalivoda!” Kate said as she held up a donut with white icing on the top.

Simon gave Deena a triumphant look as Kate bit into the donut and signed in happiness while Deena took Sam’s hand and lead her to the food. The sat down and soon, conversation filled the air in between bites of food.

“Shadyside versus Sunnyvale next week. Yay,” Kate grumbled in between bites of her donut, and Simon looked at her with sympathy.

“At least their cheerleading routines aren’t as good,” he said and at those words, Kate visibly perked up and Deena hid her laugh.

“Damn right,” Kate said, before grabbing a meatball and popping the whole thing into her mouth.

“Okay so here’s what I’m thinking…we graffiti Sunnyvale’s bus!” Simon smiled evilly and Kate smacked him on his head.

“We’re trying to avoid conflict Simon. Not give them a reason to retaliate plus knowing them, they’ll get lawyers involved and all that crap.”

“But they win almost every time!” Simon moaned in frustration, “What’s the point of even having the matches if we already know the outcome?”

Deena heard Sam giggle next to her and she smiled as their conversation continued.

“Does no one think it’s a little weird that their team’s name is the ‘Sunnyvale Devils’?” Sam asked and Deena turned to look at her in surprise.

“Care to elaborate?” Kate asked and Sam sat up a little straighter.

“Well Sunnyvale has all these good things happen to them and it only seems that Shadyside suffers right? Economically and all that.”

As Sam spoke, she opened up the plastic container of cookies and she offered to everyone. Simon bit into one and Deena swore his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he let out a moan of pleasure.

"Stop being so sexual, weirdo!" Kate said and Simon ignored her as he turned to face Kate.

"These are incredible. Did you make them?" he asked and Sam smiled brightly before nodding. "You must give me the recipe, holy shit. It's like there's cocaine in here!"

Everyone laughed before Sam continued.

"It's just strange that between two towns not too far apart from each other, one is thriving economically and the other is suffering."

“Except we have the murders! What's that nickname...'Murder Capital USA'? Yeah that!” Simon chipped in and Kate rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but that hasn’t happened recently,” Kate argued.

“Not yet!” Simon said lowering his voice eerily and Kate turned back to look at Sam.

“Ignore him. You were saying?”

“Well, it’s strange that they’re the Sunnyvale Devils. Why would they name their team after the devil since they clearly have a blessing from God to thrive,” Sam said snarkily, and Deena grinned, happy that her girlfriend, who usually said things to please everyone else, was allowing herself to loosen up a little.

“I don’t know but they suck and maybe they deserve to have a mascot who is the literal devil,” Kate said proudly.

“A toast to Shadyside!” Simon yelled and Deena gave him a look of confusion.

“How about a toast to friends?” Kate suggested before looking over to Simon. “Y’know, since we have a ninety-nine percent change of losing next week’s game?”

“There’s still the one percent,” Sam said softly, and Deena squeezed her hand.

She loved how optimistic Sam was, even in the shittiest situations. Deena felt like sometimes, Sam was too bright and sunny for her, and that Sam deserved a person just as bright and sunny as her, but Sam eased her worries instantly with a kiss and words of comfort.

Simon took out the cheap wine and raised an eyebrow at Deena, who shook her head.

“You not drinking?” Sam asked and Deena gave her a small nod.

“Okay, so it’s just me, Kate and…Sam, you in?” Simon asked as he lifted an empty cup and Sam smiled at him.

“No thanks. My mom can smell any sort of alcohol a mile away, even if it’s the cheap stuff.”  

“Suit yourself!” Simon said with a shrug, and he held up a bottle of apple juice that Kate had bought. “Would you prefer this?” he asked, and the couple nodded.

The sky was a haze of orange and gold clouds as the sunset and while Deena had witnessed the sunset at The Spot for the last couple months, she never got sick of it. The sun lit up the town and for once, Shadyside’s beauty seemed to nearly be on par with Sunnyvale. Sure, they didn’t have three story mansions or newly painted tennis courts and country clubs, but the weirdly homey feeling of the town was what Deena appreciated. The sunset made her feel like Shadyside wasn’t all bad and that things could get better for her and her family. The feeling that she could come out with Sam as her girlfriend and her dad would stop drinking so much. It made her fantasize of travelling and experiencing life with Sam at her side but knowing that Shadyside was her home.

It gave her five minutes of hope that she needed.

“Cheers to friends!” Kate announced, holding her cup high and they all cheered before downing their drinks.

Simon decided to pretend being drunk as he stumbled around the grass and made dirty jokes while Kate pulled his arm to go explore a part of the forest. Deena knew this was Kate’s way of giving her and Sam some alone time and she inwardly thanked her friend before turning to face Sam, who was glowing from the golden rays of sun on her skin.

“Wow…” Deena whispered, and Sam looked up, a frosted cookie in her mouth.

“Hmm? Did I miss something?” she asked, as she chewed and swallowed.

“No…it’s nothing,” Deena said, before leaning back on her hands. “So…you want to tell me what’s going on with your parents?”

“Ugh, nothing gets past you!” Sam groaned before closing her eyes and turning to face Deena, nibbling on the cookie as she started to speak.

“I think they might be getting a divorce. The fights have gotten worse, and they argue almost every day. It’s like a relief when I wake up to them not fighting. I think they went to see attorneys this evening after work which is why I could sneak out. I…I don’t want to be home waiting for them to tell me that type of news right now.”

Deena winced as Sam's voice broke and Sam buried her head into her hands, silent tears dripping down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do, Deena. I saw this coming, but I don’t know what’s going to happen to me if they go through with the divorce. My mom mentioned something about Sunnyvale to my aunt on the phone a few days ago and…and what if I move and if I don't move and stay with my dad...I don't know...what if I have to choose between my parents-?”

Sam broke off and began sobbing and Deena took her into her arms smoothing down her hair. Sam relaxed into Deena's arms and after a few minutes Deena spoke up.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. You still got me, and Simon and Kate and…I’ll do everything I can to help you through this. I promise.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes, every word. I know it's going to be hard but you will always have me.”

Sam sniffed before lifting her head and wiping away her tears.

“Thank you, Deena. That means everything to me,” Sam said before cupping the side of Deena’s face and closing the gap between them.

Deena could feel the butterflies in her stomach and taste the strawberry icing from the biscuit Sam had eaten. She could feel Sam’s growing smile against her lips, and she melted into Sam’s arms.

How had she gotten so lucky?

Deena wasn’t sure how long they kissed but after they came up for air, there was a wolf whistle from behind them and Sam nearly screamed before realizing it was Simon, grinning manically with Kate by his side, a similar grin on her face, holding a polaroid camera.

“God, you scared the daylights out of us!” Deena yelled and Sam chuckled before clearing her voice.

“You guys find anything cool?” she asked, and Kate shook her head.

“Nah. Simon saw a skunk and wanted to chase after it, but I dragged him away before things could get…gross. But…we did get these!”

Kate bounded up to them before presenting them with two polaroid pictures and Deena let out a gasp. It was of the two of them, the Shadyside sunset in the backdrop while their silhouettes were nose to nose. Deena knew that the photo was discreet enough for them to not be recognizable, with her hoodie hiding her hair, but Deena knew that made it even more special to Sam, who couldn't afford her mom finding out that it was two girls close enough to kiss.

Sam was frozen in shock as she stared at her picture before jumping up and hugging Kate and repeating ‘thank you’ repeatedly while Kate just laughed.

Simon sat back down and grabbed a handful of cheesy puffs before smiling at Deena.

“You still think Shadyside is going to lose next week?” she asked, and he hummed before winking at her.

“Who knows? I’m feeling kinda lucky this evening,” he said as she smiled as Sam sat down and wrapped her arms around her, so that her back was against Sam’s chest.

Kate sat down next to Simon, who pouted and glanced in her direction, before rolling her eyes and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“There. That’s all the love I’m feeling tonight,” she said nonchalantly, and Simon only grinned before tackling her, kissing her cheeks and she squealed.

Deena snorted and Sam gasped in surprise before asking, “They’re not together, right? You told me that they weren’t?”

“No, but Simon is overly affectionate, and Kate tolerates it. He’s kissed my cheek a few times before I told him I was lesbian, and he’s backed off ever since to respect my boundaries. Kate describes it as friendly connections, but Simon is convinced that she’s madly in love with him,” Deena explained, and Kate glared at her from the ground as she pushed Simon’s face away from hers.

“Simon! Get off! And no Deena, I’m not madly in love with him!”

“But I have so much love to give Kate!” he complained, his words slightly slurred from Kate's hand being against his cheek.

“Then date one of the cheerleaders I’ve told you about! Or one the football players!” she yelled.

Simon have her a goofy smile before smiling mischievously.

“Nah, none of them would be able to tolerate me the way you do and don’t act like I haven’t caught you staring during cheer practice. You crush on the cheerleaders and football players too!”

Kate’s face flushed and Simon smirked at her before she ruffled his hair.

“Shut up Si-money. You know we’re platonic soulmates.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Simon as he helped her sit up right and he gave her a shit-eating grin.

“Hell yeah! Platonic soulmates! Now that’s something I can do,” he hummed happily, and she rolled her eyes, but her smile was undeniable.

The four of them watched the sky turn lilac with streaks of pink and orange and slowly but surely, the deep navy started to set in. The wind picked up, and soon the blankets were brought out and wrapped around shoulders. Deena and Sam cuddled together, their body heat more than enough, and Simon tried to cuddle with Kate before she scolded him.

“I already let you kiss me, Simon. Don’t push your luck with any skinship!”

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold! It’s called ‘being considerate’ Kate!” he argued back.

Deena tried to keep her laughter in when she looked over to them a few minutes later, with Kate looking grumpy because she was shivering, and watched as Simon wrapped his jacket around her as well as the blanket around them.

“This changes nothing, Simon,” she grumbled.

“Wasn’t planning on changing a thing,” he said, and that answer seemed to make her rest her back against his chest.

The stars came out and the sound of crickets echoed through the air. Deena wanted this moment to last forever. Everything was perfect.

“You going back home tonight?” Deena whispered into Sam’s ear, and she nodded.

“Yeah. Gotta get back before the parents but thankfully dinner is in the fridge, and I can avoid them for the evening by locking myself in my room.”

“You could always come back to my place.”

“You have a project to do plus even if you didn’t, I can’t. I’m visiting my grandparents tomorrow for breakfast and the parents would definitely notice my absence,” she said apologetically.

“You’re right. I should focus on school,” Deena said sarcastically, and Sam rested her chin on Deena’s head.

“I know you’ll create an amazing project.”

“You always have so much faith in me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re Deena Johnson, my sarcastic, moody, intelligent girlfriend and I know you can do it.”

Deena’s heart swelled at the word.

Girlfriend.

She cuddled closer to Sam and watched the sky turn fully to deep navy, the lights from the town the only reason it wasn’t pitch black.

Deena knew they’d have to leave in a few minutes so that Sam could be home before her parents. Kate had mentioned she was babysitting that seven which automatically meant Simon would be accompanying her. Deena knew that Josh would probably be at home under a sheet and doing whatever dorky shit he did online, which left her alone to do work in her room.

She shook away those thoughts and decided to focus on how she was in Sam’s arms, feeling warm and with Simon and Kate, who made her stomach ache from laughter. She chose to focus on the sweetness from Sam's kiss on her tongue and the last glimpse of pale yellow before it vanished under the navy sky. She chose to look at the stars and close her eyes to make a wish, and even though she had grown out of the habit that wishes couldn’t come true no matter how hard you believed, she took the chance.

She could choose happiness now and that was all that mattered to her.

~~~

Thank you so much for reading!

These events take place before Sam's parents get divorced (and all the shit hits the fan) and she moves to Sunnyvale hence the Shadyside cheerleading uniform and all of them attending the same high school.

Kate and Simon are 100% my favourite characters and I adore how goofy Simon is. I definitely headcanon Kate as bi and Simon as pan (literally everyone in Fear Street is queer you cannot argue with me on this!) and I adore their friendship throughout Part One hence PLATONIC SOULMATES EVERYONE. Simon seemed to love hugging people and throwing his arm around other people's shoulders so I made in overly affectionate with Kate in this fic.

Not going to lie, I would love to write a part two for this where Deena is reflecting on this moment while visiting Simon and Kate's graves but that might make me sad soooooo...let me know if you guys would want to read some angst lol.

I also really love Ruby Lane and I might write a whole fic about her because she was definitely my favourite killer in the trilogy! Also Alice and Cindy because those girls were gay as hell and I really did think they were going to kiss at one point.

Anyway, thanks for reading and if you liked it, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Stay safe, vanilla107 xoxo

[genderificationbeam]

“”made”” some “”art”” instead of sleeping after my ap exam today

image desc under the cut

“the quote is as follows: the truth is that no child can save her mother.

“the quote is as follows: the truth is that no child can save her mother.

i’d debated squirreling it away into “love me”, making it it clear that the poetry was that of lost childhood and of lost mothers moreso than that of lost love. I didn’t, because i was worried— I’d hoped, more— that she’d read it.

enjoy it.

take a copy and pass her hands over the pages and see the blood on the lettering.

to notice the pins in the butterflies and to regard them as an investigator regards a clue, as a painter studies anatomy.

finding the secrets.

uncovering the mystery.

I hope that she didn’t because its not her style of finding.

or that she wanted to forget the rift between us,

or to plaster over the cracks with cement and forget them and not just because she regarded my passions as one regards potions from a 6-year-old.

Charmingly juvenile.

Cutely sincere.

Dangerous, if indulged in or if the habit persisted.

I hope that, at least, it wasn’t because of apathy.

Thats nice dear

That’s good for you how interesting now eat your asparagus have you done your homework yet?

I love my mom like you love a lying lover or a pet you never quite wanted but took anyway out of obligation.

bitterly.

It used to be simply, and wholly, as it should be, but things change.

daughters become sons and mothers say they did their darnedest to love you in spite of the trouble but you make it difficult, so difficult, and did the one I held and carried for 9 months have to be the dud and in time you’ll come to love your body and you can’t change your name because your grades are abysmal these potatoes are lovely (please) wash the dishes.

things got butter and my grades got worse.

am I lazy or depressed?

am I unmotivated for a cause?

it burns, in the back of my throat among the good company of kindred, dreadful, tired questions I will never ask because it won’t be pretty.

Through it all, I still want desperately to save my mother. TWD. 2021.

the second poem goes like this:

I killed someone 5 years ago today.

she didn’t mind.

she had been waiting for it for some time.

i stalked around in her skin, before i did it.

I set up her bedroom

left the walls beige

I kept her safe and happy for as long as I could manage

but not for her.

she wanted to die

to wither away

flake off into the wind and leave

a man laid bare and himself in her wake.

To be shucked off like snakeskin

to be consumed and encorperated [sic] like the snake’s rat

to become the snake.

I kept her around longer than I should have.

I took her place, and if people notice they pretend not to

or smile at me with cloying pity

with a raw and mirthful sort of indulgence

of favors

the stink of it is sticky.

Interesting that the changeling’s desires

are often those of true acceptance.

please look at me

stare into my eyes and know who I am

and most importantly

love me for it

recognize me

and we will bask in her blood together.

the third image is a collage, with various pieces of art and pictures stuck together with various text over top. I’m not aware of all of the sources, but standouts include a portrait of annalise michel, photos from the lizzie borden house crime scene, a coat of arms constructed of bones, a genderbent edit of cinderella, various people lying down (including but not limited to ophelia in her body of water), and text from Left at London’s blue as a bruise and Sufjan Steven’s come on feel the illinoise.

end image id.]

[fortheloveofspanglish]

Should You Do IB?  Advice from a former IB student

Hey y’all! I just logged into my old Tumblr from back before I started IB diploma and I thought it would be a good idea to do something I’ve always wanted to do: reflect on the pros and cons of IB and why I quit. Hopefully this helps any prospective students or first years :)

First off, I did full IB from fall 2018-late summer 2019. The year I was in IB was honestly one of the best years of my life. A week before I started my senior year, I had to quit due to health issues, but I still continued taking the max # of iB courses that my school would allow for non-diploma students.

Also, if you have any particular questions, I’d be happy to answer in the comments!

GOOD REASONS TO DO IB:

1. The community is amazing. Until IB, I had only made a handful of friends in high school. Suddenly, I had 20-30 close classmates that I got to get to know really well. By the end of senior year, I knew a bit about almost everyone. 

2. The academics are fun! Before IB, I had never felt really challenged by school except in math. Suddenly, you got to take all these cool classes. 

3. Going off that, IB is great for students who love group discussion and essay-based work. We wrote so many essays in high school that I could practically churn them out in my sleep.

4. It teaches you work ethic. Because you will have a lot of homework, you CANNOT coast and still pass. More than the material, this is probably the best thing I got from the program.

5. Whether or not it’s a good thing, your school will probably give you priority access to certain things. For example, our school got us library passes for the local university database, tickets to a TED talk, etc.

REASONS NOT TO DO IB:

1. The worst decision I’ve seen a lot of students make is going into IB because all your friends are in it. Please please please listen to your gut and don’t do this. You can always take a few classes or see your friends at lunch, in club activities, etc instead.

2. You have are prone to stress easily or have a lot of other activities outside of school. This is not to say that you can’t do IB with this, but if you have a lot of family responsibilities outside of school, a chronic illness, an anxiety disorder, etc. you need to put these factors into consideration and trust your gut for how much you can handle academically. If you do decide to do diploma, please don’t feel shy about asking for extra resources such as extended deadlines and school counselor visits. Many teachers will be flexible in my experience because they know your workload is really heavy.

3. You just want college credit. Not only do most IB courses take two years, you often have to score fairly high on exams with very nebulous/subjective criteria in order to get any college credit. Honestly, programs such as AP will give you SO many more credits.

4. You do better with memorizing facts or listening to lectures. While this varies depending on the course, in general, IB focuses on a concept-based style of learning. While this could be a fun challenge for some, it may be easier to take courses like AP if you tend to learn more by memorization.

HOW TO DECIDE IF YOU SHOULD DO IB:

If you've already thought about all of these factors, then I would recommend

1. making a list of pros and cons

2. talking to your academic advisors

to make your final decision. Good luck!