#so uh. i like em. when I remember that this isn't for a grade :)

[terrainofheartfelt]

do you have any dairthaniel hcs?

oh for YOU my dear I can think of some :)

dan and nate share clothes constantly, they think no one can tell but blair is a fashion savant and she knows when nate is wearing something cheap. but then dan catches her wearing one of his shirts and she'd fight him on it but...so comfy and dan wears her lingerie shhhh

they're all kind of 20-year-old messes but dan is the one who knows the most about cooking so often it's blair and nate pestering him to feed them. he eventually gets fed up and insists that they help. blair's better at it than nate.

dorota adores both nate and dan and she sort of adopts them as her boys and tries to take care of them - even though they spend most of their time together in brooklyn, rather than the penthouse. blair is annoyed because Only Child Syndrome. she's used to getting all of dorota's attention, dammit

nate's been friends with each of them for a long time, so he can keep up with dan and blair's discourse, but he only uses his knowledge for evil (escalating fights with random "i agree with dan" or "i agree with blair" and sitting back with popcorn because he thinks they're cute)

study parties! because I see them getting together in the college years. dorota feeds them brain food and they war council either on the loft floor or the penthouse dining room table. dan helps nate with his lit, nate quizzes blair on history (he has a knack for remembering dates -- it's the museum his grandparents live in), blair ruthlessly helps their romance language conjugations, and dan has an existential crisis when he realizes how good nate is at math (he also finds it very hot but)

movie nights! nate insists that the loft have a real tv for real viewing parties so he buys one (rich boi) and they all cuddle on the couch but the gag is that dan and blair are too into the Netflix part to get to the Chill part and nate is just *pouts*

nate and blair have known each other soooooooooo long that their communication sometimes feels inside which dan feels a little weird about but a perk is that they will tell on each other to dan about such and such embarrassing fact about them which he finds totally charming

(and dan is a bottom.)

[einsteinsugly]

Fictober 7. That 70s Show. 1977. All My Love.

"Do you recognize this?"

It's his civic duty, to show Jackie Burkhart some good music. Some Zeppelin, and their most iconic tune. Stairway to Heaven.

"No. I told you, I don't listen to rock music," Jackie dismissively declares, "But Donna showed me Fleetwood Mac, and I really like them. Do they count?"

"Yeah." He smirks a little, thinking of the obvious. "Still can't believe you thought Led Zeppelin was a person."

"I can't believe that Donna thinks Steven Tyler is hot. She showed me Aerosmith, and God. Steven Tyler makes Eric look cute. Donna has no taste, and she even has worse taste in guys..."

Once again, Hyde relays the obvious. The elephant in the room, especially after what he heard went down at the ice shack.

Kelso's van sinking should be a fucking sign, man. "You thinkin' about goin' back to Kelso, huh?"

In turn, Jackie is quick to deflect. "Well, he was my first boyfriend. And he's gorgeous."

Hyde's no knight in shining armor, but by comparison, Kelso is an invading army. A pillager, at best. Other terrible things, at fucking worst.

"But he cheated on you with Laurie, Pam, and the girl from Sacred Heart, and he makes Shaggy look like fucking Einstein."

"He smells like dog sometimes, too," Jackie notably adds, hoping for some worthwhile affirmation, "I swear, I think he plays with the neighborhood dogs."

And Hyde is more than willing to provide it. With few stipulations. "He belongs with 'em."

"Yeah..." Jackie happily trails off, as the song devolves into a certain nothingness. Silence, like all that glitters isn't gold. Just some shimmery rust. "He's a dirty, dirty dog. And I'm way smarter than him, even when I play dumb..."

Now, here come the stipulations. The awkward pressing, to get her to think. "Why'd you do that?"

"So I can get what I want. Then I turn the tables." Jackie uncomfortably cackles, nervously taking Hyde's hand. "I do it with my cheerleading friends all the time, and it's fun."

And for once, he doesn't jerk away. "Are they really your friends? You haven't brought 'em 'round here in awhile."

Now, Jackie is forced to think. Beyond the stupid games. Beyond the good grades. "They're tools. Like a curling iron. You know, one time, I tried to buy Donna a curling iron..."

Hyde catches her trying to deflect, once again. "Uh huh."

But Jackie is purposely dense. "I had to teach that moose how to curl her hair."

So, Hyde cuts to the chase. "I still gotta teach you a lot of things, doll. The ways of the world."

"Are you taking me into your stupid dojo of coolness again?"

"You can say that."

*****

Zeppelin is blaring, and they're sitting in a circle. Smoke uncomfortably billows, as they pass the blunt.

Back and forth, back and forth. "You can't let old habits die hard, Jackie. Remember what dumbass Shaggy did to you."

Jackie uncomfortably exhales. "But what if I don't find anyone else?"

He keeps it simple, as he inhales. "You will."

And Jackie, as high as a kite, still catches on. "You didn't say 'not me' this time."

Hyde nods. "Uh huh."

*****

2002.

"He said he didn't feel anything, but he was a big fat liar."

Maybe Jackie glorifies their love story to their kids, providing only some symbolic puzzle pieces. It's a stupid game. And sometimes, Hyde doesn't like it.

"She was singin' the same song." But today, Hyde is more than willing to partake. "Then she still got back with Uncle Kelso, for awhile."

Jackie nods, taking Hyde's waiting hand. "I gave him a marriage ultimatum, so he could run away. And he ran to California."

Hyde looks at Jackie oddly, harkening back to a bygone era, and Jackie groans. "That wasn't the same thing! That was because I love you, I wanted to cement that forever and ever, and you were being stubborn! Big diff."

James opens his mouth to say something, a negative Nancy Drew by trade, but Becca angrily nudges him.

Because Becca doesn't feel like exploring a dusty attic of crap, and releases some sort of rhetorical statement. To cap it off, right then and there.

"What if your plan didn't work, and he didn't run away? That would be weird."

Jackie and Hyde nervously glance at each other, and for once, Jackie is at a loss for words.

So, Hyde picks up the tab. "Yeah, it would."

[flydotnet]

How Not to Handle an Illness At School 101

WHUMPTOBER 2023, DAY 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.” Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

Day 15 was always going to be MatsuYoshi, I knew that, considering those two are professionals at pulling the "I'm fine (isn't actually fine)" spiel, to a nauseating degree considering how few times Yoshiko appears yet has managed to pull it off screen for months. Also, you know I had to do it to 'em.

What I hadn't planned on was setting this in an HSAU flashback fic. Truth be told, it's not purely out of serendipity: it's also due to some very emotional reasons linked to a recnnt terrorist attack that targeted a former school of mine. I originally had a whole-ass wall of text about it, but at the end of the day… this fic isn't a memorial, it's just a silly AU funky soccer manga fanfiction, and I don't want to take away from that. This fic is motivated by a will for this school I truly care so much about not just be a place of tragedy and I want it to be seen as such.

My thoughts and prayers to the victims, their loves ones, and current students and staff of Gambetta High. Shout-out to my profs at Carnot.

So, uhm, yes, the funny fanfiction about HSAU Hikaru and Yoshiko being who they are! Can't forget about the original stake at hand! They're in their second year of prep class, there.

In terms of HSAU Lore, this fic somehow introduces both Jeanne Mouchon, one of Hikaru and Yoshiko's former classmate, and Mr Moinot, who was mentioned in… I don't remember, actually. I think it was either We All Gotta Start Somewhere or the first chapter of "Promotion to Parent". Most likely the former. Anyway, he's 'karu and Yoshi's old lit prof! And absolutely not an OC I already have who's also kind of maybe based on my own former lit prof.

Also, slight reminder of culture and stuff: grades are given out 20, some students have scholarships as in they get money to do studies because they're otherwise dirt-poor, and we're in France.

It's a little half-baked, but I didn't get a lot of time to work on it, so it'll have to do for now. I may go back and edit it later.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

How Not to Handle an Illness At School 101

aka: Pinmontagne, Or The Reason Why "Febris" and "February" Share a Latin Root

Summary: People don't always think it through before they try to push through illnesses. Or: asking a nineteen-year-old to have clear-cut priorities may be a lot to ask, sometimes.

Fandom: It's your friendly neighbourhood French high school AU (actually it's Captain Tsubasa, but very, very removed)

Word Count: 1.7K words

AO3 version available here.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s only seven in the morning and Jeanne is already silently telling him he’s a big-ass idiot, in that way only her can do.

“What?” He asks, still mixing in the cheap cocoa powder into his bowl of just as cheap warm milk.

“What, what?” She asks back, an eyebrow corked. “Be more precise, man. I don’t speak Pinmontagne as far as I know.”

She’s absolutely trying to get a reaction out of him – which he will not grant her.

“You’re lookin’ at me funny. What’s your problem with me?”

She immediately cringes.

“Geese Louise, you’re so snappy today! Tho I guess I asked for it.” She regains a serious expression, perhaps too serious. “You look a bit, uh… bad. God, uh, I don’t know how I phrased it when I emailed FM about that, but you look like that.”

The laugh he tries to level at her accusation turns into a coughing fit.

“You’re not accusing me of having pneumonia now?” He still tells her. “Cuz that’s what Moinot had back then, no?”

Her expression doesn’t get lighter and he hates that oh so very much.

“Maybe not pneumonia, but like, dude, you sound like shit.” She frowns. “You’re not gonna attend class like that, right?”

He clears his throat before he can talk again. His voice is already a shitshow, better not wake any suspicions among his classmates now.

“It’s just some stupid cold that won’t go away. Tryin’ to get excused outta class sounds like a much bigger chore.”

“I mean… Yeah, you’re right, but like…” Her eyes grow wide. “Wait, didn’t you have an oral with Moinot today?”

“Yeah, I do.” He coughs again, shit. “What did you pick for yours?”

“Oh, I chose Notre-Dame de Paris, that seemed – hey, don’t change the topic!!”

He shrugs.

“Same, actually.” His nose’s starting to get too clogged for oxygen’s good faith. “I, uh, don’t jive with Ernaux much. Not in text commentary at least.”

“I don’t think you should jive with any author today, dude.”

“My scholarship doesn’t say the same.”

“Just… Go to a doctor, dude, or Yoshiko’s gonna get on your case. You wouldn’t worry her, right?”

“Fuck you,” he replies with a chuckle.

“I was being serious, y’know.”

He sighs, his chest wheezing as he does. Maybe the Moinot comparison wasn’t that inaccurate…

“I’ll be fine.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I tell you, I’m fine,” he tells his girlfriend for the third time today. To say geography class hasn’t even started – not just that, the prof isn’t even here yet.

Still, he knows it’s just bravado because, yeah, his scholarship doesn’t handle missed classes well, and he needs it. And, also, worrying her is a crime… even if he isn’t sure of his modus operandi anymore. It does sound like it’s doing the opposite thing it should be doing.

“But, Hikaru… You’ve been sick for the past week. It doesn’t seem to have gotten better either…”

“Colds can be like that, y’know” he replies with as much of a smile as he can muster. “But are you fine, Yoshiko? You’ve not been catching it from me, right…?”

She smothers a sneeze in the crook of her sweater.

“No, don’t worry, I’m fine,” she replies in a manner eerily similar to him, only starting to smile again now. “I’ll go to bed earlier than usual and take some medicine. You should try and rest in the dorms when you can.”

“With our schedule that’s gonna be hard to do, but like, I don’t think I need it anyway. I’ll manage.”

“If you ever feel like you need help, get some, okay? I’m really worried for you.”

He leans against the wall, suddenly aware of how uncomfortably wet his hair is. Maybe it’s more obvious than he thought that he feels like shit.

“I’ll make sure to let you know, at least.”

It’s a lie, the only kind he’s capable of and they both know it, but before she can protest, Mr Beaubonnet has finally arrived, and class is bound to begin soon.

He doesn’t hold her hand – just because he doesn’t want her to catch the plague, dear God. Yet he watches her hand try to reach for his, even sitting in class.

His lungs aren’t the only thing that hurts, today.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time noon comes around, Hikaru isn’t even sure of how he’s still on both his feet, waiting in the cafeteria crew. The fact he’s sandwiched between Jeanne and Yoshiko helps, he imagines, not to let himself look as bad as he feels. Ironic, for someone who otherwise doesn’t give two fucks about appearances, let alone “looking right”.

He usually doesn’t even care about queue speeds, especially on Wednesdays where it’s just the four prep class rosters and their profs; but today, it’s long. Painfully slow. He wants his bed and maybe a hug from Yoshiko. Okay, he definitely wants the hug from Yoshiko, but that’s beside the point, he always wants one.

When they finally sit down, he can’t hide the relief on his face, just like they can’t hide the fact they’re worried as shit about the crap he’s trying to pull off – cut him some slack, the scholarship won’t like it if he skips over it.

Also, Yoshiko’s coughing, and that can’t be good.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks her, still twirling with the idea of ingesting food.

“It’s nothing,” she says before blowing her nose. “You should focus on yourself, Hikaru. You need the care more than I do.”

“I’m fine, I told you.” It’s starting to sound like a farce, and it shows, because both Jeanne and Yoshiko are utterly unconvinced.

“Hikaru, dude, you can barely speak,” the former replies first. “I dunno how you’re planning on survivin’ English, let alone an entire oral with fuckin’ Moinot. That guy’s gonna wring you dry of words like he always does.”

“You dun need to remind me of my last grades with him, thanks.”

“Actually, I will! You got a 6 on your first oral, which was somehow worse than my 7. Then, on your specialty oral, you got a 9, but like, can’t blame ya, Banny can’t have explained how that was supposed to go without going on four tangents in a row. And ya got a 11 on your latest one, but it was a damn close call.” She puts down her fork. “All that to say, on a good day, you’ve got trouble dealin’ with his shit, and now you want to do that while you’re literally cookin’? Dude, you’re insane.”

“I’d rather die than lose my scholarship.”

“I’m… pretty sure medical reasons would excuse you,” Yoshiko replies. “Please, Hikaru, you’re swaying on your feet, you shouldn’t be here…”

He rubs his temples, his throat hurting just as much, but no solution comes to him.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure. Just, lemme handle this and I’ll go see a doctor after class.” Or tomorrow.

“I don’t think you’ll find any by the time you’ll be outta there.”

“I’ll find one.”

Oh, he won’t, but he sure can try.

“You’re so fucking stupid, man,” Jeanne adds.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The topic quickly changes to bitching about English class.

So, uh, fun thing about running a high fever: he can’t read text anymore. No matter what he tries, letters just start swimming before his eyes. Not that he’s actually been able to understand whatever the hell Hugo was trying to say about that rat hole or some shit – who knows, not him, that’s for sure.

And that’s a big issue, because right now, he’s in front of his own prof, and he has no idea where to fucking begin.

“I, uh, gimme two seconds, please,” he coughs out, already realizing this is going nowhere.

He swaps paper sheets around, rubs his eyes and tries focusing – but aside from the absolute urge to hug his girlfriend and find peace with his bed, there’s nothing coming up. Nothing makes sense. He almost doesn’t know where he is and he’s losing grip on if his thoughts are staying inside or if he may be spewing them out.

“Do you need help with anything?” The prof asks in a voice too kind not to be suspicious.

Or maybe it’s normal? Uh…

“I don’t need you to help with things, I can handle things myself.”

He shuffles his papers around again, and this time, he actually gets tricked by the coughing fit. It lasts entirely too long, and he’s spent by the time it ends; but watch him rise back to his hands because that oral won’t do itself.

Mr Moinot looks entirely displeased with the shitshow this has been so far, in such a manner that, when he opens his mouth, Hikaru is ready to endure a verbal beating—

“You should go back home, Hikaru.”

Dread fills his every pore anyway.

“W-wha’?!”

“You are very clearly ill. Be honest, did you even understand the text?”

He’s way too exhausted to lie. He doesn’t even like lying to begin with, do you expect him to do so when he’s down the gutter?

“No, sir, I really didn’t get it. I don’t even know what it’s about.”

It hurts so much, at this point, to speak that he can’t not cough every time he opens it, God.

“I can’t evaluate you fairly in those conditions,” Mr Moinot replies. “Let’s postpone it to when you feel better, okay? The class is small enough, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

“O-okay.” The shame is almost overwhelming. “Sorry about that, sir.”

“It’s fine. I know a thing or two about pushing through an illness.” He sighs. “Now, call someone to get you. I’m not letting you go home on your own.”

Oh, it must be that bad – of course it is, you idiot, you’re hotter than a furnace and barely able to piece reality together. Even walking to his dorm room sounds like a chore. As such, in silence, he grabs his phone, scrolls to the one contact whose picture he cannot mistake for anything else, and calls.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It isn’t pneumonia, but it’s damn close; so close Yoshiko has decided, actually, he was going to live at her place until he can drive himself home.

It’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t a dream come true.

[firstwarlord]

headcanon ramble #5

aka the leatin soccer au one shot (as of the moment?) no one asked for

"You're kidding."

"I'm afraid not. You need to get at least an A in lit if you want to stay on the team. That would be enough to boost your average. If not, then at least that means you'll get to focus on cello more–"

"No! I want to stay on the team. Even you can admit that I'm one of your best players. I–"

"Look, Fatin. I understand that you have a lot on your plate, and I know how much both cello and  soccer mean to you. But academics are still our top priority. You need good grades to get into a good college, regardless of how good you are at both extra curriculars."

Fatin sits back in her seat. Cello has been a part of her life since she was 10. When they found out that she was exceptionally skilled at it, her parents started pushing her to practice more and hone her abilities. They were happy when she played–proud, even. And that made her love cello even more. But over time, it started feeling like a chore. She doesn't remember the last time she played for herself and not for her parents or for Julliard. Soccer, on the other hand, was her form of escape. Her parents never fully supported it, which sucked, but that also meant that if she trained and spent hours after school practicing, it was because she wanted to, not because she had to. It was tough, but it gave her the sense of freedom and adrenaline that cello (and sex) can't. She can't let that go.

"Okay." She stands up in her seat and slings her backpack over her shoulder. "I'm getting that A. Thanks, Coach C."

Coach Campbell smiles at her and nods. "Go get 'em, best player."

—

Dot waits for her by the door. "So, what did he say?"

"He said I was his best player."

Dot rolls her eyes. "Hilarious."

"And that I'm in trouble." They stop by Fatin's locker. Dot gives her an incredulous look.

"In trouble? What did you do this time?"

"More like what I didn't do. I need to up my grades if I want to stay on the team. An A in Lit, Dorothy. I need an A in Lit. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"Well, you can start by actually paying attention in class. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two."

"Be serious, please."

"You are unbelievable." Dot rolls her eyes and sighs. "Okay. There's this girl who does people's papers for them. Andrew's her regular client."

"I always wondered how the hell he managed to stay on the football team."

"Leah Rilke. That's her name. Brunette, blue eyes."

"Isn't she Toni's friend? Maybe I can ask her to ask her."

"Or you can ask her yourself," Dot nods, "5 o'clock."

Fatin glances over her shoulder. "Shit. Okay. Wish me luck?"

Dot salutes. "Luck." Fatin sighs. Okay, that'll do.

She walks up to Leah. "Hey."

Leah flinches and nearly drops her books. She turns to Fatin and her eyes widen. "Hey?"

"Leah, right?"

"Guilty."

"My friend, Dorothy over there–" Fatin points a thumb over her shoulder. Dot gives her a tight lipped smile and a nod "–told me that you write essays for people."

"Yeah, 10 dollars for 3 pages and 5 dollars for each succeeding page." Leah closes her locker and hugs her books against her chest.

"Well, that's not why I'm here."

Leah raises an eyebrow and looks around. "Uh...it isn't?"

Fatin smiles through her nerves. "I was wondering...if you can maybe...I don't know, tutor...me?"

Leah shakes her head, eyes wide as saucers. "T-tutor you?"

"Yes. Okay, hear me out. You know how I'm on the soccer team, right?"

"Right..."

"Well I need to get an A in Lit to stay on the team and I really really need your help. I wouldn't be here if I had any other choice."

"I don't know..."

"Please, Leah. Soccer means a lot to me and I am literally miserable without it! It gives me something neither cello HECK not even sex can give me. And I've had a lot of that."

"Have you considered the fact that the sex wasn't good?"

Fatin feigns indignance. "Excuse you, I am great–"  she points her fingers for emphasis "–in bed. Maybe if you're nice I'll even get to show you." Fatin smirks and winks. Leah gives her a blank stare before turning to leave.

As she walks away, Dot shows up beside Fatin, who sighs with her arms crossed over her chest. "That went well."

[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Chapter Five- Part Two

   Once the Wheeler's got home, Nancy and Phina went to change into more conventional clothing. Phina put on some warm maroon leggings and a long sleeve black shirt, then threw on a grey zip up hoodie with her leather jacket over it. The weather had been getting colder and colder, if they were going to be out in the forest, at night, she wanted to be prepared.

   Phina looked around her room, looked for anything that could be used as a weapon. She thought of an obvious weapon that she possessed, but she couldn't let Nancy, or even Jonathan, see it. So she settled for a nice wooden baseball bat. She'd been in softball during her freshman and sophomore years, one of the best players on the team, but she had quit, because no one really cared for her to be there, mostly, they were afraid of her, due to her reputation.

   Phina had always been called the weirdo of Hawkins, and it was due to what happened when she was five. Hikers had found Phina, almost frozen to death in the middle of the forest. When they had gotten her to the hospital, and warmed up, they tried to figure out where she came from, where her family was, but she couldn't remember. The only thing she could was waking up to the sound of the hikers shouting.

   The Wheeler's had adopted Phina into there family, and they all loved her so much, that they sometimes forget she isn't actually related to them.

   The rumors about her started almost as soon as she began school, everyone either hated her or feared her, and no one hated her more then Carol. Phina never let it get to her, because she knew that she was loved, by her family and the Byers. Even though she had a wonderful family, and the Byers', the bullies still got to her, and one day, she snapped.

   Phina had always been a hothead, but she had always let people push her around, but when Carol pushed to far once in sixth grade, she stopped letting it happen. Carol had smacked Phina on the playground, the first time anyone had actually laid a hand on her, and Phina saw red. When Carol brought her hand down for a second hit, Phina's own hand had shot up and grabbed Carol's wrist, twisting it back so hard and fast that the bone in her arm snapped clean in two.

   Everyone that had witnessed it was to scared to say anything, so everyone had agreed that Carol fell, and Phina had done nothing. This event hadn't stopped Carol's bullying, but it had built Phina a reputation, and no one laid a hand on her, not unless they had a death wish.

   Phina shook her head, leaving her own thoughts and went downstairs to meet Nancy. Her sister was in the garage, taking practice swings with one of Mike's old baseball bats. To say she wasn't good at it was an understatement.

   "How's it goin' there sis," Phina asked her mockingly.

   "Fine," Nancy grunted as she swung again.

   "Don't let your body move so much, you'll fall forward," Phina told her, "get a good strong stance with your legs, only move your upper body enough to get your swing going."

   Nancy continues to practice her swing, improving a little bit from Phina's help. Phina hops onto the hood of her fathers car, and lays back.

   Phina listened to her sister swing, the whistle it made as it cut through the air. She also listened to the noise of nature, the last few birds singing in the trees, the winds accompaniment. Nature was soothing, if you truly took the time to enjoy it, you'd find yourself at home. Phina felt at home when she was surrounded by nature, more than anywhere else, even with the Byers.

   Phina hears Nancy swing again, and then Steve Harrington's voice shout, "woah woah woah, hey!"

   Phina jumps up, her head snapping towards Steve. He has his arms up and was looking at Nancy, but when he heard movement, looked over at her. Her steely glare was set on him, and, he wasn't going to lie, it burned. She was still unbelievably livid about what he did to Jonathan, he knew that she would be, but being under her harsh glare made him squirm.

   "What are you doing here," Nancy askes.

   Steve lookes back at her, "What are you doing?"

   "Nothing," Nancy lies, badly.

   "I hope that's not for me," Steve points at the bat.

   "Her's isn't, mine just might be," Phina grumbled, swing her bat up to her shoulder and hopping of the cars hood.

   Nancy glared at her sister, "no no. I was just thinking about joining softball. Phina was giving me pointers."

   "Oh. Well uh, listen, I'm very sorry. I mean, even before you threatened me with a baseball bat," Steve jokes, walking past Nancy to lean against the car.

   "Ok?"

   "I mean, I panicked. I was a total dick," Steve explains.

   Phina's glare deepens and she pushes away from the car to lean against the wall, "no shit?"

   Nancy ignores her and snorts, "yeah. You were."

   They look at each other for a moment, an awkward silence between them, that had Phina cringing.

   "Did you get in trouble with your parents," Nancy asks.

   "Totally but, you know, who cares. Screw  'em," he says, "any news about Barbra?"

   Nancy shakes her head, Steve continues, "parents heard from her, or?"

Like you care Harrington. Phina thinks to herself, her eyes still burning with fire. Her anger at him was still stoked high and she knew it would not go down for a long time.

   Nancy shakes her head again, Barb was still gone, but she was going to save her best friend.

   "Hey listen, why don't we, uh, why don't we catch a movie tonight, you know?" Steve pushes off the car and walks closer to Nancy. "Just kinda pretend that everything's normal for a few hours. All The Right Moves is still playing!"

   Phina rolls her eyes and Steve catches it. He realizes that he should probably apologize to her too, but he just knows she won't listen to a word that comes out of his mouth.

   "You know, the lover boy from risky business," Steve says to Nancy, pushing Phina away from his thoughts.

   Nancy laughs awkwardly, "yeah."

   Phina can't help it anymore, she can't listen to this. She pushes away from the wall harshly and exits the garage. Phina swings her bat around and takes a few swings, the movement swift and smooth. She faintly hears Steve start singing but she tunes him out. Did he have to be so outrageously annoying all the damn time?

   After being rejected, Steve leaves the garage, singing again. Phina heard him and grits her teeth, swinging ever so slightly harder. Steve looks at the girl and sighs.

   "I know you don't really care, but I am sorry for what I did to Jonathan and his camera. It was stupid," he apologizes weakly.

   Phina swings again and grunts, "yeah? Why don't you apologize to Jonathan, he'd probably actually forgive you."

   Steve's face falls even more, both the Wheeler girl's rejections hitting home, "I'm sorry."

   "Yeah! You said that already Harrington!" She turns to him furiously. "And you know what! I don't really care. You're right, you fucked up bad, really bad. Did you know I bought that camera for Jon on our ten year friendship anniversary? No, you didn't, because you have no care in the world for the people you hurt."

   She hadn't realized that she had stepped closer to him, she didn't care, she leaned in even closer to his face, "now why don't you just leave before I make do on that threat."

   She lifts her bat for emphasis, meaning it completely. He looks at the bat and pales, rasing his hands in surrender.

   "Ok," he nods, "I'll leave."

   Phina spins on her heal and storms back towards her sister. Steve watches as she goes, giving Nancy a little wave before leaving like promised. Nancy opens her mouth to say something, to reprimand her, but Phina gives her a look.

   "Don't start with me right now," she growls, and then sighs, "just don't."

-1381 words-

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Bronson

Bea: Hey Bronson: You don't have to Bea: I do, though Bea: it's important, your feelings are important, I acted otherwise, so you have to know that's not how it is, how I see things Bronson: Yours are too Bronson: I know you weren't seeing things clear last night Bronson: Call it forgotten Bea: Fuck that Bea: I know there's no forgetting Bea: and I know I've broken your trust and there's no getting it back Bea: but please, let me rebuild something Bea: I only did it because you're important to me Bronson: important in what way though Bronson: we aren't gonna be that Bea: No Bea: not like that, I don't want that Bea: I don't even want what I did, not really, I know that's just words when I did it but I swear to fucking God Bea: you're my best friend, my only friend, frankly Bea: it's a distancing thing...you know Bea: make you like him, put you in that box, that way I can see it as a good thing when I lose you Bea: but you don't deserve to be tarred with that brush, so I am, I'm really sorry Bronson: I've been around C & R long enough to see some fucked up boxes Bronson: and not walk off Bronson: I'm not doing that to you Bea: It probably won't be you Bea: that'd be me too Bea: I can't sustain shit Bea: I did the same to them, you know Bea: but they don't care so I didn't have to feel bad about it, got to be selfish Bronson: and they never bragged about it in my earshot...whoa Bronson: blessing or curse Bronson: I mean, if I was gonna, you'd get first dibs, but let's not make it weirder like Bea: Guess they give enough of a shit about you to not put that weird on you Bea: little did they know...ha Bronson: I mean they have made some offers over the years Bronson: But we were a lot younger Bronson: And the flashbacks only occur sometimes lol Bea: Didn't mean to add to the PTSD Bronson: You're off the christmas card list but you can still come for drinks Bronson: Nobody needs the newsletter and cringey family photo really Bea: Bron Bea: stop making it a joke if it ain't Bronson: I don't know how else to deal Bronson: You're not a club random Bea: You could tell me what you wanna tell them Bea: might help Bronson: I don't see it, you didn't have those motives Bea: Wanna violate my trust somehow Bea: hack me Bronson: Sure Bronson: Scope out that inbox Bea: go for it, serious Bea: #exposed Bronson: Am I gonna go further down the PTSD rabbit hole by catching sight of your nudes? Bronson: You can delete but they won't go Bea: I mean Bea: perhaps best to swerve my texts then Bea: uni emails Bea: ooh the scandal Bronson: Fix your grades while I'm there Bronson: 100 or nothing Bea: 🎯 Bea: Too good, you Bronson: Then, you'll owe me solidly, there's my angle Bronson: 👀 Bronson: Express your gratitude in a manner we won't have to run from and everything's normal again Bea: Anything you want Bea: WANT being the keyword there Bea: no funny business ever again Bronson: Swear on what you hold dearest Bronson: I can make those grades go down easy peasy Bea: Hmm, myself? Bronson: Those are my terms Bronson: 'Cause I can't stutter a no out don't mean a yes 😂 remember that going forward Bea: DON'T Bronson: too soon Bea: always too soon to be assaulting people Bronson: I'll stop smacking you with these punchlines in a minute like Bronson: Living with those two scallys too long Bronson: Not too soon to think about moving out Bea: You'd miss the mess you bless Bea: having your stuff knicked, constant undesirable and unknown visitors, all the noise and drama Bronson: I'll miss you if you do one after this botched reconciliation Bronson: You're my fave hot mess they ever brought back, Judes Bea: Don't make me cry Bea: this mascara is 22quid a pop Bronson: We'd be close to even Bronson: I'm worth at least that Bea: How rude of me to suggest otherwise Bea: but the foundation, the blush Bea: adding up Bronson: 💸 Bronson: Gotta get Ronaldo to teach you everything she knows about 🖐 discounts Bea: I think John Lewis would see her coming from a mile off, babe Bronson: There's a reason I have no fucking idea what one looks like inside Bea: like you're inside a upper middle class home but the bitch is also selling avon Bronson: 😂 Bronson: Take me there girl Bronson: I wanna see this Bea: Get you a pot of tea and a slice of something nice if you behave Bronson: I can be bought Bea: No judgment Bea: can't we all Bronson: Bring me coffee and all will be forgiven like Bronson: I've got the headache to end all 'em Bea: 😱 you? never! Bea: surprised you're not caning the red bulls already you animal Bronson: I would be if there was any left Bronson: hot commodity in this household Bea: 🤢 you are garbage people Bronson: You missed a trick not calling us monsters 😂 Bronson: It's early but you're a 🤓 Bea: I'm not gonna stoop to such levels Bea: any time of the day Bronson: Not gonna say your forgiveness depends on it Bea: Good Bea: not gonna change who I am, babe Bronson: Can't either Bea: Noted Bronson: But I'm not trying to change you, note that Bea: I know Bronson: Your man might Bronson: But I'm not going that deep into your inbox Bea: At least I don't have to tell him Bea: unless I drunkenly did Bea: bitch you better not have Bronson: I remember taking your phone at some point Bronson: If you're drunk enough to let me that's trouble Bea: 😬 Bea: Oh great Bronson: Get me his phone and it'll be like nothing ever happened Bea: idk if my skills of persuasion are gonna match his rage rn Bea: or pay for the first class postage Bronson: Quick trip to Ireland to buy my forgiveness and do some petty thievery could be a plan Bea: how is this for your forgiveness Bea: its entirely for me Bea: too pure Bronson: I need a- uh- Bronson: Guinness and Lucky Charms Bea: 😏 as cultured as I expected Bronson: Whoa there, I've seen that Leprechaun film with Rachel from Friends in it Bronson: Putting the cult in culture lol Bronson: 😂 Bea: Oh God Bea: 🤓 for all things trash Bronson: Blame the trash queen herself Bronson: A slut for shite horror Bea: I'll take great delight in telling her her Mum is just the same Bronson: Start saving for a headstone now I will Bea: she's gotta face facts some day Bronson: She'd sooner spite her face violently Bronson: We all know it Bea: 🤞 Bea: whaddya think I'm aiming for Bronson: Not to get Charlie about it but peas in a pod you two Bea: how dare you Bronson: face them faces, Judy baby Bea: Dick Bea: Now either way, I prove your point Bea: 😒 Bronson: You might be a smarty pants but I'm a smart arse like Bea: think of some witty retorts for Fraze then and go at it Bea: 'cos I can't face that yet Bronson: Time to build another fort and hide you in it Bea: gonna have to take up permanent residence at this fucking rate Bea: kick Tommy out of my old box room, that's not my graduate plan Bronson: Shack up with you like you're my actual missus Bronson: bedsits are very affordable Bronson: leave Fraze in the dust and forget the awkward convo looming Bea: Ha Bea: not exactly the plan either Bea: as much as I LOVE what you lads have done with the place 😽 Bronson: I'm not as house trained as poshos need theirs to be but not the pup they treat me like Bronson: We'd manage on our own, hun Bronson: love conquers all Bea: 💘 Bea: You're ridiculous Bronson: You need me Bronson: Too sensible by half Bea: 😏 Not gonna deny or accuse you of mixed messages BUT Bronson: Victim blaming isn't the way back into anyone's good books, love 😂 Bea: 🤷 Bea: don't want you to get the wrong idea Bronson: My ideas are fixed Bronson: No changing this mind Bea: that impenetrable firewall, I get it Bronson: Yeah Bea: Don't even be impressed by my nerd talk then, bitch Bronson: You can better Bronson: And we're trying to swerve pillow talk Bea: Look, I can't help being the best k Bronson: Back at you Bronson: Hard life being irresistible and unattainable like but I'm styling it out as effortless Bea: Ahh Bea: the one goal I can never reach Bronson: You're up there for me Bronson: If we stick together you've done it Bea: Safe to say I proved that I can't Bea: whore that I am Bronson: You're my whore Bronson: Stick around Bea: Who could say no? Bea: Such a charmer Bea: can't go in my inbox nevermind home anyway Bronson: Say the word and I'll clear it or pack a bag Bronson: Whichever Bea: Cheers, Bron Bea: what's the morning after without some drama to sort Bea: be at a loose end without it Bronson: Rather wipe your texts than clear up after the motley two Bronson: Disgusting Bea: Eurgh Bea: Don't even wanna think about them Bronson: How strong are the flashbacks? Bronson: I don't wanna think about that Bea: Why did you ask then 😂 Bronson: I'm a caring son of a bitch Bronson: And nosy Bea: Fair and fair Bea: wasn't that bad but not needing to repeat, is the answer Bea: but keep that on the DL Bea: not having them think I'M more repulsive than they are Bronson: I would but I feel like R's got that tattooed on her cause its such a legit review Bronson: Revolving door for her lack of repeat custom Bea: Well Bea: 'cept one Bronson: Let's not start Bronson: Enough of a headache without going there Bea: 2nd that Bronson: Onward to John Lewis Bronson: How much scandal can follow us around there realistically Bronson: We're well safe Bea: unlikely they're gonna want us to stock 'em up on overpriced knitwear Bronson: Trying to sell that on for anything but a loss would be an even worse headache Bronson: It's a no from me Bea: aw but you'd look adorable Bea: and sexless, more importantly Bronson: Would I though? Bronson: Or would I look quality in a bit of salmon pink Bronson: Trying to make me a target for the older crowd so I wouldn't turn you down next time, is it? Bea: 🤢🖕 Bea: nice bit of argyle Bea: golf chinos Bronson: 🏌 Bronson: a look Bea: if you wanna be some daddy's caddy Bronson: And risk taking Charlie's gig Bea: you know i know he knows he's past his prime Bronson: Yeah but I'm not trying to take his place in my mine Bea: Your loss booboo Bronson: Theirs Bronson: My daddy issues don't go that hard Bea: Worst luck Bronson: Like in the rankings I'm the worst horse to bet on if you want that action, dads Bronson: Pay my bills and get nothing back if that's your deal otherwise its a strike out Bea: save all this time I'm wasting on uni, eh Bronson: I haven't got a leg to stand on agreeing cause I'm still showing up myself Bronson: Half the time Bea: 👏 Bea: get you Bronson: someone's gotta show up to tell the rest to turn the computers off and on again Bronson: be a hero Bea: ⭐ for you Bronson: High five Bronson: We're killing it Bea: gotta slay in at least one area Bea: even if the rest is going to shit Bronson: I can't tell you not to feel bad about last night but I am Bea: I'm glad we're alright Bronson: You gotta get right by talking to freckles though Bronson: Rip off the plaster Bea: Yeah Bea: John Lewis first though, eh Bea: cheer myself with expensive crap when it all goes tits Bronson: Return it when the guilt kicks in Bronson: Easy fix for that fuck up Bea: If only everything had that 30-day return policy Bronson: We have to try on the most ridiculous shit they have Bronson: Guaranteed cheer up Bronson: Nothing's better than taking the piss outta me so I'm told Bea: 😂 sounds good Bea: though i can turn a look with anything Bronson: There she is Bronson: I'll meet you there but you have to walk in with me so I don't get trailed round the shop like the scum I come from Bea: wear your nicest hoodie please Bronson: Never dressing like a dosser when I'm meeting my lady Bea: so 😍 babe Bronson: Deffo