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mellowrat21 · 3 years

Text

Rough Changes.

AU where the bullying Sal recieves from Travis, his school crush, gets so hard to him, it almost kills him, so he decides to close some cycles and get the hell out of the situation. Cw: mention of self harm, bullying, graphic violence, strong vocabulary, polyamorous relationships, mild (really really mild) implied sex scene(?, heavily loaded with angst. Fandom: Sally Face Words: 4800 Hope you enjoy it!

The first time Sally went out around Nockfell he used to wear a beanie to hide his bright, long, electric blue hair and wore discrete clothes, but as the time went by and he started hanging out with Larry, Ash and Todd, his confidence slowly started going higher and higher until he started going to school with his signature hairstyle, some hairpins and his favorite clothes, he was a cis guy, and he was bisexual, but who cared, everyone who saw him thought he was a girl and probably a lesbian since he hung out with Ashley so much. And he didn’t give a flying fuck about it, he wouldn’t make an effort to change his voice to make it sound “more feminine” or go to the women’s restroom because he didn’t feel the need to, he was a guy, period. Some people didn’t seem to agree and thought he was a trans guy or something, which was terribly stupid and Sal and his friends would always mock the people that harassed him on the streets “you will never be a real woman, you tranny!” or “no matter how many chemicals are in your body, you will always be a girl!”, people never knew if he was a girl or a boy, and that amused him a lot. But then, when they got to the middle of 8th grade, a new kid was introduced to his class, he was a tall, brown boy with shiny blonde hair, he had what appeared to be a bruise on his left eye but Sal thought it was rude to stare, so he lowered his head, wondering if it was a bruise or a birthmark. The kid got to sit beside him, they didn’t talk at all, if not just the common “hi” from when a new kid gets introduced to the class and you’re the one sitting next to them. Dear diary: Today in class there was a new kid, he is cute, I wanna be his friend and maybe share drawings or stickers or even Pokémon cards, what if he collects them too? I could find the ones I don’t have and he could benefit from mine too. He’s my age, his name is Travis. I think he’s religious, so not cool, religion is boring, I always sleep in religion class. I’m gonna ask him if he wants to sit with me at lunch, he might be lonely since he’s a new boy at school, I wanna be his first friend, I could even introduce him to the group!

Alright, gotta sleep, Sal out.

The alarm clock was buzzing, letting Sal know it was time to get out of bed and ready for a heavy Tuesday of school, he hated Tuesdays, no band club, no art classes, nothing, just geometry, math and a lot of history, Spanish and English, oh, and religion too. He got up and went to take a quick shower, it was cold and he didn’t really like turning the heater on, it was too noisy for being 6:40 in the morning the time he showered for school. When he got out of the shower, he put on his underwear and with a towel around his hair he sat on the sink to take care of his reddish scars, that day they were way more tender than usual, it stung and even hurt in some places the q-tip touched with the lotion. He sighed, getting back down from the sink and finding a meowing Gizmo on his bed, who stretched as soon as he saw his owner, asking him to pet him and rub his belly. “Aw hi little guy! Did you get some good sleep?” Sally asked in a tiny voice, thoroughly shaking Gizmo’s big belly, he earned a purry meow from him, who got up and walked out of the room to get food. Sal let out a breathy giggle and started going through his closet, thinking what he should wear; he found a white skirt he thought was really cute, tried it on but found out it was way too short and it showed the scars on his thighs, he didn’t want any more visits to the school counselor for self-harm even though his scars were a combination of cuts made by him and scratches made by Gizmo. He decided to stop thinking so much and just grabbed a pair or ripped black skinny jeans with patches and chains Larry had gifted him for his 15th birthday and a pastel blue gloomy bear t-shirt to go with it, by the time he tied his usual blue converse he thought of grabbing a hoodie, so he grabbed a red zip-up hoodie and threw it on before he went to get some breakfast, some peach slices and Greek yogurt did the job and after a little bit of him styling his hair with his dryer and iron, he went to brush his teeth, he grabbed his bag after putting his prosthetic on and headed out. On the way he found Larry, with whom he went to the bus stop while chatting a little bit. “hey Lar, did you see the new kid?” Sal asked, eager to hear the answer, he was so interested in him, he was excited to know him. “uh yeah, that Travis boy? He’s chill, why? Larry said, munching on a chocolate chip cookie that might be his breakfast, he had his hair tied back in a messy bun which showed he didn’t shower, and those bruise-like bags under his eyes made clear he didn’t sleep either. “huh? What do you mean chill, did you talk to him?” Sal’s eyelids perked up, surprised by his friend talking about his interesting future new friend. “oh hell no, he’s religious, I would never get near a religious guy, they’re scary with all their crazy ‘god loves you’ shit” Larry shivered jokingly, earning an annoyed sigh from Sal, who playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “he can’t be that bad bro, he’s 14, he probably just uses the cross necklace because his dad makes him.” Sal tried to shrug it off, then the bus came and they got on. While looking for a seat, Sal spotted a blonde head, and when he got closer, low and behold, it was Travis. He was talking to another blue haired kid that attended their school, but they suddenly locked eye contact and Sal smiled to him, only to remember he couldn’t see it, so he shakingly waved until Larry softly pushed him to sit behind Travis and the other boy that was there. “come on dude, you’re gonna fall if you stay there!” Larry tugged on his hoodie, which made him sigh and sit next to his friend, his face red as a cherry and the blush spreading to his ears. That was so embarrassing… “woah woah dude are you okay? Do you have like a fever or something? Your face is hot as fuck and your so re- AH DUDE NOT COOL!!” Larry said worried, getting elbowed on the stomach by his flustered friend who was literally shaking on his seat. “i-I am- I’m okay it’s j-ju-just I-… fuuuuck” Sal stammered out, not being able to form a sentence from how hard he was shaking, then he hear a gasp from the

seat in front of him. “what? Are you- are you a boy?” a flustered, weirded out Travis was looking at him, he looked disgusted and scared. “uh m-me? I- I… yes, I’m a boy…” Sal stuttered again, scared, the first words they exchanged and they were not at all the ones he expected. “what the- ugh, boys don’t wear skirts, you shouldn’t wear that kind of attires, it’s ungodly.” The disgust in Travis’ face was growing with every word and Sal was literally at the verge of tears from how scared he was, even though he had picked a gender neutral looking outfit he got a bad comment, from the boy he wanted to be friends with. Sal tried to talk but the words were stuck in his mouth, when a sudden movement startled him to the point he yelped. “yo, clothes don’t have gender. Go fuck with someone else smartass.” Larry had jerked up from his sit, completely angered and with a threatening stand. Travis got scared himself and he just turned around mumbling something under his breath. Sal was silently crying, little sobs slipped from under the mask his day didn’t start well at all and he had heard what the boy in front of him had mumbled.

He called him a faggot.

His day went on horribly, boring classes, all of them where he sat next to the boy who he had a little crush on, it was all wrong, all he wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball to cry, and cry and cry. Before lunch started, he got up rather quickly, Travis used the opportunity to trip him and he fell over, he scratched both his knees and it wanted to make him cry again, and it did, he just ran to the restrooms and locked himself in a stall, hugging his legs and silently crying again, what a shit day, he just wanted it to end already. The urge was suddenly unbearable, he needed to get himself off of that situation, he reached to his hoodie pockets and pulled out a little envelope that contained a stainless steel blade he hadn’t used in a while. He then pulled his sleeves up and angrily started making multiple deep cuts in every dimension, that made him sob and gasp, and when he was done, he was just a mess of blood and tears, he reached for the toilet paper and luckily for him, there was, so he quickly put it on the wounds and made some pressure until the blood was almost gone, he pulled the sleeves back down and sighed, he wasn’t relieved, but he wasn’t around Travis so he was good for a while. Then he remembered his next class was religion, fuck no, he was going to the principle to ask him to call his dad, he needed to go home, he couldn’t resist any more time with Travis let alone it being in religion class, fucking religion class, that was the last thing he wanted to happen to him. After he decided he was calling his dad to go home, he got off the toilet and opened up the stall door slowly as to not find any “unwanted guests”. Once he double-checked and triple-checked he was able to get out of there an run to the principal’s office, only to blink and open his eyes back up at a hospital room, surrounded by Larry, Ashley, Todd, Todd’s boyfriend (he didn’t remember his name) and his dad, all looking both worried and relieved. “oh my god, he’s awake!” Ashley almost yelled, rushing to hold his friends hand. “huh…? Wha- what am I doing here?” Sal asked, looking around, noticing his arms were uncovered, showing his fresh cuts and the catheter where the liquids where flowing. “uh, you passed out and Larry found you completely splattered on the ground, your hoodie was soaked in blood so he told us and we rushed you to the hospital. It seemed like you lost a lot of blood, Sally, what’s wrong?” Todd talked, looking concerned. “Salvatore, please tell me you’re not going to start cutting yourself again, I already signed a document to refuse your admission to the mental hospital, I know you don’t wanna go back there and I don’t want you to go either, that place only drugs you and prevents you from everything…” Henry spoke, worry and sadness gushing out of his mouth while he talked. Tears started falling down Sal’s eyes, he was mortified, and now he was in the fucking hospital, he was sure this was a nightmare, he needed to wake up, he needed to fucking- “SAL, WAKE UP!!” Larry said, worried and scared, it had been a day since Sal got out of the hospital and he stopped going to school for a while, Larry was taking care of him every day after school to make sure he was eating and cleaning himself, he was worried his best friend would kill himself if he spent too many time alone and he wasn’t risking losing another loved one. Never again. Sal jerked awake, all startled by his friend’s yelling. “what do you want Larry…” annoyed by his sudden awakening, Sal rolls over on the bed and starts falling back asleep. “I brought you some pancakes and chocolate milk… I know you like them…” Larry sighed out, he was sad to see his best friend like that, he hated it, he fucking hated whatever was going on with him to make him that depressed. Sal sat up and started eating bit by bit, the bandages on his arms were getting loose and a bit gooey, so after Sal finished eating, Larry carried him piggyback to the bathroom to clean him up.

That was only the beginning of the worst four years of his life, days of never ending bullying, depressive episodes, fights, detentions, panic attacks and breakdowns.

Last break of their last year of school was nearing in, that was the last day of school before break and they’d be back for a month and a half more of school and everything would be over. Sal was excited because he was going on a field trip with the squad, not knowing those plans were going to be completely crushed by goody two-shoes blonde fuck Travis, who had woke up that last day of school and chose complete violence. That day was living hell for Sal, he never stopped mocking him and calling him names, but Sal just pretended to ignore him, until… “Hey freak, you faceless faggot motherfucker, did your mommy do your hair for you? It looks shitty! Oh wait, no she didn’t. why, you ask? OH YEAH, BECAUSE SHE’S DEAD, SHE MUST BE CRINGING AND CRYING IN HER GRAVE BECAUSE SHE’S ASHAMED OF YOU, ABOMINATION, UNGODLY MONSTER” Travis was following him around, tugging at his hair and pushing his head around, until Sal snapped. He didn’t say anything, just a hit, square in the nose, a loud crack and a scream followed, Sal just kept hitting and hitting until Larry had to physically drag him away, he was frozen, scared, absolutely terrified of himself, of what he did. Luckily it was finally break time and he got to dip out of there, he locked himself at home and ravaged the tree on his backyard, then when he was tired of it, he decided to go back inside and look at himself in the mirror, he then found himself staring down to a pair of scissors on his nightstand. His breath became shaky and anxious, he didn’t want to do it, he made him do it, it was all his fault, all his fault, he fucking did it. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, TRAVIS FUCKING PHELPS!” he cried out, yelling and shaking after he looked at himself back in the mirror, his pretty blue long locks were completely gone, leaving him with a mess of hair, he didn’t want it anymore, he didn’t want to look like a girl, he didn’t want to be bullied anymore, he didn’t deserve it. “I am a man, I was born a man, I will die a man, and if I am a man I will fucking behave like one. Did you fucking hear me, Phelps!? IM GONNA BE WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE, A FUCKING GUY, NOT THE UNGODLY FAGGOT YOU ALWAYS SAW ON ME!! ARE YOU HAPPY? ARE YOU GLAD?! FUCK YOU! YOU MADE ME LIKE THIS! ME! THE ONE WHO ALWAYS THOUGHT FONDLY OF YOU, THE ONE THAT THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST SCARED OF ME! The one who… the one… the one who fucking liked you…” Sally couldn’t speak anymore, he was shaking, sobbing and crying out loud on the bathroom floor, just to stare back up and find Larry and Ashley looking down at him, both crying, completely worried and scared of what they were looking at. Larry picked him up as he drifted away, passing out from all the crying. They let him sleep, he was sleeping soundly as the other two were slowly falling asleep by his sides. When he woke up he found them sleeping there, he woke them up too since he had an enormous headache and needed some assistance. “Lar… b-bring me some medicine please my head hurts like hell…” He went to grab onto his locks and all he found was a nest of tangled up short hair, he found himself scared but then remembered what happened before he went out and tears started gushing out of his eyes. “fuck, I really did it, I cut my fucking hair.” Sal unbelievably laughed, a melancholic laugh. Larry got up and Ash stayed there, hugging him softly. “don’t worry, blue, I’ll take you to a salon after you take your medicine and we’ll get that mess fixed, alright?” Ash held his hand, reassuringly squishing it softly. Sal nodded then looked up when he saw Larry pop out of the doorframe holding a pill and a glass of water which he gave him to drink. “So dude… after you get the haircut… do you wanna go get some food and maybe get high at the abandoned house down the hill? I know Ash is out of this because she has to babysit her brother but we can go if you want.” Larry asks rather shyly, trying not to give Sal any strong emotions. “I’ll take the food offer, but no weed for me today, this headache will get fucking worse if I even get near the stuff” Larry nodded, joining the hug

after Sal had swallowed the pill, closing his eyes at the pleasuring hug. After the pill kicked in and Sal was no longer in pain, the three young adults went to the hair salon to get Sal a haircut, then the other two sat back reading awfully boring magazines. Mid haircut, Sal asked the stylist to dye his hair black, he wanted to change himself completely, never look back at himself how he used to be. They finished washing his hair and he went to show his friends who looked completely dumbfounded by the new look, so dumbfounded Sal started to worry. “guys? What is it? Do-does it look bad? Do I change it or-“ he was cut off by a wave of NO’s from both of them, they were both in love with what they saw before them, they rushed to hug him and cradle him, Larry cried, because he loved him, he loved every single piece of his existence and now he looked so different, not happier, but completely different, he was proud of him, of his baby, not blue anymore.

The road trip never happened, but they stayed together at Sal’s house the whole break since Henry was away for a business trip that meant a lot of money coming to them afterwards. The three spent the break like a little family, they tried doing all sorts of things, like cooking, hiking, stargazing, burning all Sal’s “feminine” stuff as a symbolic sacrifice (even if Ashley wanted to keep the makeup and some stockings he had) and well, other kind of stuff between the three of them. The day they had go back to school went… not so badly. The squad had agreed not to talk to Sal a lot at school so people thought he was just absent or something, and it worked out until some person started to suspect. “hey, you, uh… Salvatore?” Travis approached the guy shyly, tapping his shoulder. “yeah?” Sal tried to lower his voice to confuse the oblivious blonde even more. “well I wanted to talk to you about something, in private, so… do you mind going with me to the school’s auditorium? I promise it’ll not take long.” Travis stepped a little further from him as to not scare him. “uh yeah sure, why not.” He nodded and followed behind, not too closely, while he texted his partners about it, he was shaking, scared and stressed about what might happen there. Porcelain doll: school auditorium, quick, heading there with Travis, apparently he wants to talk about something.

Ashey<3: oooo someone is getting confessed to!!!

Lar-Bear: be there in 3 minutes, dragging Ash with me if something happens.

Porcelain doll: nice, thanks babe.

Ashey<3: no worries boo ~

Lar-Bear: we love you, Torey.

Sal sighed in relief knowing his boyfriend and girlfriend were going to be around if something bad happened, so he ruffled his hair and jogged a bit, trying to keep up the pace. When they got there, Travis pushed the big doors to the entrance, the dim lighted room was scary enough with the theatre people in it, let alone it being completely empty, except for Ash and Larry who were hiding in the console room.

Travis cleared his throat, he was… nervous? Maybe Sal was imagining it, there’s no way that motherfucker was nervous.

“so… what did you wanna talk about?” Sal spit out rather venomously, stressed and annoyed by Travis’ presence.

“I promise it wouldn’t take long so it won’t. Salvatore Fisher, Sally Face, I wanted to tell you I’m absolutely sorry for what I did to you, all those years of suffering because of my fear of… of… uh… of…” Travis was struggling to take it out, he was disgusted by his own words though he knew he had to say it somehow. “of liking another man, of liking you, Sal… I was taking it all out on you and you didn’t deserve it, I’m working on myself, on becoming a better person for you, because I know how much damage I caused you on the outside, but on the inside, I know I left you a wound that is rotting and I will never know how deep it is.”

“Bro. You waited four years. Four fucking whole years to apologize for something you did to me every day nonstop, the words, the names, the hits, the hair pulling, all of that, and now you’re just telling me that you’re sorry? What do you expect? That I fall on your arms, begging you to hold me and forgiving you right away? Fuck no. Totally not. I will never forget what you did to me, and you know what? Fuck you. You’re the fucking faggot, you’re the one that deserves to get your shit rocked every single day of the rest of your fucking existence. You’re the sissy, little blondie piss baby, what’re you gonna do, huh? Cry out to daddy for him to save you? Only sissies cry, Travis, man the fuck up and piss your pants anywhere else but near me.” Sal gushed every word that came out of his mouth so naturally it was like he had rehearsed that speech a thousand times. He pushed him, making him trip over his feet and fall to the ground before he left, fuming, at the verge of tears, and before he closed the doors of the auditorium he yelled “FUCK YOU TRAVIS PHELPS, EVEN IF I STILL LOVED YOU, I WOULD NEVER TOUCH YOUR FILTHY FLESH IN MY MISERABLE LIFE, Y’KNOW!?” and with that said, he slammed the door behind him, actually hearing rushed footsteps from the other side. Todd and Larry were waiting for him outside but Sal ignored them, he was too busy wiping the tears off of his face as his legs gave in and let him sit on the floor, resting his back against a stack of lockers nearby. Travis barged out of the auditorium, tears desperately streaming down his face, yelling out for Sal. “SAL PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I LOVE YOU WITH MY LIFE AND IM SORRY I HURT YOU SO MUCH PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER!!” Travis was full on begging, he needed him so bad but Todd and Larry stopped him, Larry had hit him square in the face while on the floor Todd kicked him on the side, completely angered to see how poor Sally was crying too, with Ashley by his side hugging him and comforting him, they would never let Travis get near Sal, ever again. Since the principal actually knew Sal and Travis situation, he didn’t end up expelling anyone and didn’t give them detention, Travis, Todd and Larry were given a warning and Ash was congratulated because of how good of a job she did comforting Sally while he was having his panic attack. Finally they got to go home and do their homework and onto the next day.

Finally, the school year, graduation and prom had been completely over, and Ash, Sal and Larry were moving out of Nockfell to live together in the city since Larry had gotten a job and Sal was planning to start university with Ash, they were both planning on enrolling in art school even though Sal wasn’t too excited about it since he wasn’t as good at art as Larry and Ashley were, but they both always reminded him that he doesn’t need to be good, he needs to be passionate. That way he would finally get better.

The news of the moving got to Travis, so, as a goodbye present, he left a letter and some candy for Sal in his letterbox, promising him and himself that they would never cross each other ever again. Sal thought it was a cute gesture, maybe in another life they would’ve been together, but in this one, they just peacefully drifted away after all the suffering they felt throughout the years. He went in to smoke some weed, he took the letter with him and read it out loud, he cried a little while, and after that he just burned the letter and went back into the empty house. Ash greeted him with a soft kiss on the lips and smiled. “The moving crew called, they’ll be here in ten minutes. Lar is upstairs saying his last goodbyes to the house.” Ash kissed his forehead and let him go with a playful spank on his butt, making both of them giggle. When Sal went up he found Larry crying, he softly approached him and sat beside him, hugging him tightly.

“hi doll, sorry you get to see me like this, I got nostalgic and I was thinking of how glad my mom would be to know that I found a job, that I have a beautiful loving relationship and that I’m moving out with them, with the beautiful people I love.” Larry sobbed onto Sally’s chest and he howled as soon as the words left Larry’s mouth.

“I’m sure little old Lisa is really fucking proud of you, of me and of Ashey, like, we’re both successful young adults and we’re taking off, we’re living our lives just like Lisa, my dad and Ashley’s wanted, so never doubt it, they’re all pretty proud of you, bear.” Sally reassured him with a big smile, Larry kissed him softly then pulled out with a huge smile.

“good god Torey, I love you so fucking much.” They ended up cuddling on the beanbag they didn’t pack, it was big enough to fit three people there, so they were comfortable, kissing and cuddling there. They started getting heated up and kissing more aggressively. Rough kissing and hickeys, until Ashley interrupted them.

“I knew I was hearing my little porcelain doll moaning, why am I not invited again?” They all laughed and pulled her onto the beanbag, but then again there was another interruption, the doorbell rang, the moving crew was there, they started loading the stuff to the moving truck and the other stuff inside Larry’s truck, then took off, they were leaving, finally leaving that damn town, the memories, the suffering, off to a new life, a better life where they had love to give and receive, wealth and success, so they weren’t sad. Obviously they were nostalgic, but never sad.

They finally got to the new house, it was big and pretty, the furniture looked perfect and the bedroom was cozy and welcoming. They were so tired that day, they just slept through the whole night and the next half of the day.

There their life started, their new life, where the worries were different and the old problems were nowhere to be seen, and they were happy, they were completely free. Free, loved and happy, just how they deserved.

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fountainpenguin · 5 years

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Would you say you write a lot of the unrequited love trope? If so do you have any examples?

All I’ve written this week is unrequited Anti-Cosmo / H.P. cuddle urges because pheromones are hilarious does that count

Unrequited love is probably my favorite romantic trope to write (not to read, though, because I’ve found very few ‘fics that cross my path actually commit to the “unrequited” bit and I’ve gotten rather bitter). I read an article earlier this week about how “the reason you can’t stay friends with someone you’re in love with is because if you truly love them you can never be happy seeing them with someone else” and it broke my heart. Perhaps I’m in the minority, but that’s not the way I see love at all.

I’m of the opinion that true love means helping someone recognize what’s best for them and supporting their efforts to achieve that goal- even if that means they remove you from the equation. If my best friend is moving away to find better work opportunities, I still love them and want them to be happy. I don’t throw a fit that they’re not staying in a situation they don’t want to be in just to make me happy. I’d whip out websites and dive into research and we’d make a huge list of pros and cons and be 100% sure this is the choice they want to make, and I’d babysit kids if they want to travel out there to get a feel of the place and I’d cook them meals and help them pack… I’d support them every way I can because I want them to be happy, even if I’m helping them get away from me. My door would be open for them to swing by whenever they’re in town, even if we hadn’t spoken much since parting ways.

That’s love.

To me, that’s a happy, satisfying ending. To some, it might feel upsetting and sad. Perhaps Character A getting the chance to move closer to Character B would be the satisfying ending for some while that ending would annoy me. That’s okay; it’s their taste, not mine.

I for one love the unrequited love trope because I can play with it in so many ways and question “What is real love?” and “How far are you willing to go for someone when kisses and sex are removed from the reward pool?” I crave healthy break-ups and stories about reuniting with your ex years down the road to touch base, conversing with them without your partner getting jealous because they recognize it’s possible for you to have meaningful relationships with other humans and you don’t despise every unrelated person you interacted with before Current Partner came into your life.

In my own writing, the Foop/Goldie relationship is probably my best example of unrequited love. Foop’s had a crush on that girl since preschool, and not only did he lose her, he lost her to the person who is literally his opposite in every way. Can you imagine what that feels like? Talk about unobtainable. And worse… they grew up together. For thousands and thousands of years. There was no escaping her.

His crush never went away, and every now and again he asks if he has a chance (especially with Poof and Goldie on the verge of breaking up every few decades). Goldie still respects him as a person as long as he’s being polite and not trying to force her. They’re still study buddies and good friends and support each other in many ways even if they aren’t dating.

Their relationship is definitely one of my favorites. It has its own problems, but boy howdy is it fun for me. Below the cut, I’ve included a few Foop-Goldie interactions from upcoming drafts. Kind of sort of spoilers, but nothing that ruins your read. I’ve arranged them in chronological order.

“Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Pixies” (Poof POV)

I got let out of art history class early the next day, so I grabbed a milkshake and went home. When I poofed above my bed, I heard her across the hall in Foop’s room. I froze. I still had my backpack on and hovered there, trying to figure out if I was supposed to leave. He was talking. She was sobbing.

“I don’t belong here. I belong with my people, but my people need me here… I need my education.”

“Goldie,” I heard him say, over and over again as her panic rose in waves. I could sense their location on the edge of my awareness, the magic running through their veins. They perched on his bed with legs folded, and he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Goldie, listen to me. We both belong to sociosexual societies. Extraordinarily few people at this school truly understand what that’s like and how it defines our culture. But if you ever need to cry, I’m here for you. I’m always just… here. Any time.”

“I’m more like an Anti-Fairy than a Fairy,” she choked out. “I wish I was an Anti-Fairy!”

From Prompt 55, “Denial”

Goldie shook her head. “Foop, it’s not real. Fantasizing about your crush’s counterpart is a completely normal part of Fairykind attraction.”

He swallowed, but never took his eyes from her face. “Trust me. I’ve noticed.”

She stared at him, her wings trembling. The longer she stared, the pinker her face became. “Oh. You meant… So then Anti-Marigold… You know, I should go.”

“Goldie!” Foop grabbed her wrist, yanking her attention back to his face. His other arm couldn’t hold all ten boxes, and several spilled across the floor. Giving up, Foop let the rest tumble after them and latched onto Goldie’s hand with both of his. “Goldie, I- I don’t actually struggle in Maths. The only reason I even go to study night is because I get to see you. Goldie…” As the tears began to swim across his eyes, he squeezed her arm and choked out, “I paired with Anti-Marigold because I love you. I mean, she’s absolutely wonderful, but she isn’t you. I like Anti-Marigold for Anti-Marigold-related reasons, but I like you for Goldie-related reasons. You’re talented and smart and gorgeous and brave, and I could listen to you prattle on about bunnies and dewdrops and beautiful things that hold significance to you hour after hour. I sort-of love Anti-Marigold, but I know I love you. Goldie! Goldie, don’t go!” She pulled away and he released her, but grabbed his hair with his hands. “I know I’m an Anti-Fairy, but if I weren’t, would you give me a chance?”

“… The problem isn’t that you’re an Anti-Fairy.”

From a one-shot currently titled “Foop’s Paper”

“Expelled?” Goldie repeated. “They actually expelled you? Are you pulling wool with me?”

“Are you even surprised? I’m guilty of WWU.”

“‘WWU’?”

Foop twisted his mouth into a grim smile. “Writing while Unseelie. There is no greater crime in all of academia.”

Goldie’s wings sagged. “Oh, Foop… What did you do to upset them so much?”

“Valid research.” He waved the stack of pages above his head, and let it fall to the table just in front of her tray. “Here.”

[…]

“Are you serious? Good glory, are you serious?” Goldie slapped the research paper against his chest. “Two months before we graduate from the Fairy Academy, and you decide to pull a stunt like this? For what? A cute li’l joke? You think it’s funny?”

He shrugged his wings, straightening the papers into a tidy stack again. “It’s what I believe.”

“Watch and Learn” and “Shadow” (already posted on my FFN and AO3) also have some good depictions of these two. Goldie supporting Foop even if she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with him and Foop supporting Goldie even when she turns him down is very important to me. They are friends.

#asks #Anon #FAIRIES!#ridwriting #Nerdy blue bat son #Golden butterfly girl #130 Prompts #Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Pixies #If you're chill battling monsters for your love interest but not your best friend are you even friends?

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lgbtyrus · 6 years

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TJ’s Playlist Chapter 5

Story Summary: When Cyrus finds a playlist on TJ’s desktop full of old love songs, he realizes that TJ has never been a scary basketball guy but rather a huge sap. TJ just wished Cyrus could realize that all of those songs remind him of a certain boy who likes chocolate chocolate chip muffins without telling him directly.

With insecurities and fears almost set in stone, it’s hard for TJ to admit that he has a heart aching crush on Cyrus who is trying to avoid just that. Of course, it doesn’t seem like both of them are trying to get over each other when they’re always together.

Ao3 Link | Chapter 1 Link | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |

Words: 3264

“Do you like TJ? Like, in more than friends?” Buffy asked him.

Anything but that.

“Does that really matter right now?” Cyrus tried to jump around the question. It was a mistake, and he automatically knew it.

“So you do?” Buffy almost whispered. Cyrus felt himself turn red, and it was an unpleasant feeling that went to his stomach. He really didn’t want to talk about it to anyone at all. It had taken forever for him to open up about Jonah, and he certainly didn’t want to rush himself into admitting something that could turn out to be something as simple as appreciation.

“No, Buffy,” Cyrus managed to say, “I don’t. But even if I did, that shouldn’t be important.”

“Well,” he heard Buffy hesitate, “it’s important to me. It changes a lot.” Change the topic. Change the topic. Change the topic.

“Are we talking right now or tomorrow morning? I don’t want to go to bed fighting with you.”

“We’re not fighting,” Buffy’s voice got louder.

“Well it sounds like we’re starting to,” Cyrus replied, his tone matching Buffy’s.

“Well, then,” Buffy stopped for a few seconds, “what do you want to talk about?”

Cyrus plunged right at it and asked her, “Do you not like TJ and me hanging out? You guys were cool. He hasn’t changed. If he has, he’s gotten a lot better, not worse.”

“Answer my first question,” Buffy brought it up again, making Cyrus rub his face in frustration.

Why is she suddenly thinking about things like this? I don’t even want to think about things like this!

“There should be absolutely no correlation between why you’ve gone from being on ‘we’re cool’ terms to ‘I hate you again.’ Please stop asking me that question,” Cyrus groaned.

“Well if you answered it, I wouldn’t have to ask it again.”

“You’re being really rude, Buffy. Maybe we should just talk tomorrow morning.”

“No!” Buffy suddenly shouted. She stayed silent for a fraction of a moment and then continued to speak in her regular voice, “Look, Cyrus. Please just answer that question. It’ll help me sort out my feelings.”

“What about my feelings?” Cyrus found himself asking. He knew he sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “You think it’s not upsetting to see you get worked up over something as small as me helping TJ with math. You’ve done it before. You know he needs help.” Buffy didn’t answer, so Cyrus asked her, “What difference will it make if I have a crush on TJ?”

“A lot, actually,” Buffy replied. “If you do, it means he’ll be your boyfriend and you’re going to pick him over us most of the time.” Cyrus felt that if he wanted to, he could’ve cried.

“We,” Cyrus took a deep breath, sitting down at the edge of his bed, “we never told Andi stuff like this.”

“Yeah but we were cool with Jonah,” Buffy tried to defend her stance. Cyrus knew he had her cornered, though. She didn’t sound so sure of herself.

“Well, you’re supposed to be cool with TJ. He rapped for you!” Cyrus reminded her. “You guys were cool all summer. Nothing should have had changed, Buffy.”

“Cyrus,” Buffy’s voice was the one shaking now, worrying Cyrus. “If you like him and he liked you back, I’m so scared he’s going to hurt you. He’s still not an angel, you know that, right?”

“Well, one,” Cyrus grumbled, in disbelief that he had to say these things, “he’s nice to us and especially to me. Two,” Cyrus’ voice was raised now as he said, “he’s the biggest heterosexual in Shadyside! Do you think I want to hurt myself like that again?” Buffy stayed quiet. Cyrus lowered his voice, looking over to make sure his door was shut, “I’m over Jonah. I’ve been. But it still hurt seeing him with Andi when I liked him. At the end of the day, I can’t catch feelings for TJ because I’ll hurt myself, and I’ll probably lose the good friendship we have. But let’s face it, Buffy. It’s you I have to worry about losing right now.”

“Cyrus…”

“I’m not going to stop being friends with TJ. He needs me right now, and I’m going to be there. I want you to be there, too. I want Jonah and Andi to be there. If we could get a little less hair gel on him, maybe he could even be part of the Good Hair Crew,” Cyrus tried to add in some humor. He knew it had worked when he heard Buffy chuckle. “Please, Buffy. If you’re just worried that I’m going to, I don’t know, fall in love with TJ and he’s going to hurt me, let it go. Please. I’m starting to believe TJ wouldn’t even hurt a fly. He has a cat named Macaroni for goodness sake!”

“Alright,” Buffy sighed. “I’m being dramatic.” Cyrus was a little taken aback. He couldn’t believe Buffy was admitting she was wrong, but he wasn’t going to rub that in.

“Yeah, you are,” Cyrus simply agreed. “I’d never chose my future boyfriend over you guys anyways. You know that, right?”

“Now I do.”

“Okay, there’s something else,” Cyrus added even though he felt exhausted.

He heard Buffy groan, “There’s more?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus said. “It’s about Jonah and Andi. I’m not going to meddle into their relationship. They can figure their own stuff out, and if they need our opinion, we’ll give it to them occasionally.”

“Yeah, I agree on that one,” Buffy told him.

“Good.”

“Good.” Cyrus knew there was something missing, but he wasn’t going to ask Buffy for it. Buffy wasn’t going to give it to him either way. “Anyways, just remember that I love you and you can tell me anything, okay?” Buffy told him.

“I love you, too,” Cyrus finally smiled. “Please just be honest next time.”

“Yeah, I was being stupid,” Buffy said. That was closest Cyrus was going to get to a ‘sorry.’ He knew it.

“You’re just looking out for me in your own Buffy way,” Cyrus told her, making her let out a quick laugh.

“I really am,” she told him. “Anyways, good night, Cyrus.”

“Goodnight, Buffy,” Cyrus said, hanging up. Cyrus fell back on his bed and looked at his blank ceiling. He didn’t think a phone call could be this draining. He sat back up and looked over at the black leathered journal sitting on his bedside drawer. He hadn’t written about TJ in there yet. He knew that when he did, it meant it was permanent. It meant TJ meant a lot more than something to him.

It means we’re just really good friends Cyrus told himself before standing up and getting the polaroid from his cork board. He grabbed a pen and some tape before opening his journal.

TJ was sitting across from Amber on her bed. She was typing up an essay while he worked on some of his problems. It took him about ten minutes to get through one sometimes. But when he got stuck, he’d just have to tap Amber’s ankle, and she’d help him. TJ always told Amber she sucked out all the math abilities from the womb and left him with the random ability to remember specific yet mostly irrelevant things. TJ didn’t give a damn when Pangea stopped being Pangea, yet he knew it was 200 million years ago. It sometimes pissed him off.

TJ’s phone buzzed next to Amber’s on her cluttered desk across the room. It was the only part of her room that still had a lot of little knick-knacks, mostly things he recognized from their childhood.

“You can’t answer it until you’re done with your homework,” she reminded him of their rule. TJ rolled his eyes and went back to his wrinkled math test. He had a feeling it was Cyrus, and it made him wish he could speed through math. That was the issue about math. It always had a specific answer. He could go knock on a scientist’s door, say fuck you, Pangea broke up 150 million years ago, and it might be right if he convinced enough people. But no, math only had one answer. Unless it had right two answers, of course. X and Y were the power couple everyone hated. Either way, he couldn’t guess on a problem. He couldn’t fake his way out of it.

He continued to work, finding himself doing problems with somewhat more ease. He had finished that day’s homework with Amber’s help, and he was redoing the test. Mrs. Pierson said something about letting him retake it if he was interested, and he wasn’t going to let her or Cyrus down. About twenty minutes after the phone had buzzed, he circled the problems he had skipped that even Amber couldn’t remember how to solve. There was only a few. He closed the purple highlighter and handed his test to Amber who was finishing up her conclusion.

“I can’t believe you already have an essay due,” he told her as he repeatedly smothered his papers into her laptop until she grabbed them.

“I just got one of those English teachers that lives off the souls of tired high school kids, no biggie,” she smiled and took the paper. She went over his work for a few minutes while he looked around her room again. It was a lot more empty.

“Your room looks like you’re ready to move or something,” TJ commented.

“It’s just nice to declutter,” she told him, as she placed his test on a notebook and began to write on a sticky note. She fixed his mistakes on a sticky note so he would be able to go back and fix things. “Here,” she handed it to him. Almost done. Just that one.” TJ fixed the problem and started putting his things in his backpack. Amber watching him closely the whole time. “Are you expecting a text from Cyrus?” she asked him, making him stop what he was doing. He kept his eyes on his backpack not wanting to turn to look at her. “You guys look cute together,” she said, making TJ’s face heat up.

“I just,” TJ put up his hand to his mouth, causing Amber to giggle.

“If you just admit that you like him, it’ll get easier,” she told him gently. “I promise.” TJ put his hand down and rested them on his lap. He had liked two boys before but neither of them were like Cyrus. Nobody was like Cyrus. He had told Amber about both of them, and he had gotten over them fairly quickly without getting hurt terribly. Amber was the only one who knew he liked guys. It wasn’t that hard for him to hide anyways. Shadyside and all the US society seemed to have a stereotype for gay people, and he didn’t fit the match. It made things easier, but he often dug in the future and wondered that when he was out, if people were going to say he didn’t “look” gay.

Amber was the one that rejected girls that messaged him. He felt like he’d be too nice and give them the wrong impression. Amber always asked him if anyone wondered why the handsome captain of the basketball team had never had a girlfriend. There were definitely girls who wanted to turn the school bully into a “cuddly bunny.” At least that’s what Amber told him.

“Earth to TJ,” Amber snapped her fingers.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Look,” Amber smiled at him, “it’s the most obvious thing in the world that you like Cyrus. Even Buffy see’s it.” TJ’s heart skipped.

He slightly popped his neck as he turned to her, “Buffy?”

“She texted me and asked me about putting up flyers in The Spoon, and we kept talking. I might have ended up sending her the photo where you guys were asleep,” she gave him a worried smile, flashing both sets of teeth. TJ glared at her and bit his lip. “I didn’t think it was anything bad, honestly. Like maybe Cyrus had already shown her. It’s a cute ‘guys being dudes’ pics I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything bad,” TJ shook his head. He wasn’t going to get mad at her for something like that.

“Well,” Amber gave him a tight-lipped smile, “that’s when Buffy asked me if you liked him. I said I highly doubted it and that you were just really cool with Cyrus because he helped you. I switched it on her though.”

TJ raised an eyebrow at her, “What do you mean?”

“I asked her if Cyrus liked you.”

“Amber!” TJ gasped in horror. Amber let out a laugh and put up a pillow in front of her face. “You can’t just ask Buffy things like that! She’s going to think I really do like him.” TJ let out an inhumane groan that made Amber laugh.

“Well you do,” Amber lowered the pillow to look at TJ’s face. He was freaking out.

“Well I never admitted it,” TJ crossed his arms like a little kid, making Amber roll her eyes.

“Come on, TJ. She just told me she didn’t think so and we left it at that, I swear. I doubt she’ll blow it out of proportion.”

“Did you just meet Buffy?” TJ asked her in disbelief.

“We both kind of did.”

“I mean,” TJ rubbed his eyes with his hands in circular motion, starting to hope that he had teleported to another world when he looked up again. He didn’t. “Buffy was being weird with Cyrus today, and I feel like it’s because of that. If she brings that up,” TJ frowned, “it’s going to make everything weird. I just know it.” Amber just looked at TJ with a grin that made TJ wanted to roll off her bed.

“TJ,” she chuckled, “you’re so… awkward. You weren’t like this when you had a crush on Davis and Marc.”

“Well I was in elementary school so,” TJ shrugged, giving Amber a mournful look. Amber was just sitting there, having the time of her life.

“I thought Marc was early 6th grade?” she raised a brow, bringing her hand to her cheek.

“Same thing,” TJ grumbled.

“What makes Cyrus so different that you’re just scared of saying you have a crush on him?”

“Because,” TJ whispered. He stopped and tried to think of a reason. But he really didn’t.

“Are you scared he might like you back?”

“God, Amber. I’d be the happiest person if he liked me back. But I don’t even know if he likes guys. Didn’t he date your friend Iris?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, though.”

“I just don’t want to scare him off.”

“You scare everyone but him off. And Buffy. She asked me if we were vampires.”

“Say yes. Maybe she’ll come put me out of my misery,” TJ moaned.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Amber rolled her eyes. “Just go answer your crush.” TJ got up from her bed and mad his way towards the desk. He picked up his phone and sure enough, he had a text from Cyrys.

Cyrus: Just got off the phone with Buffy. The convo was a littleee bit more intense than expected but we good now

TJ: good. I was getting worried.

TJ: Was it anything I did????

Cyrus: I don’t think she liked you denying ur a vampire

TJ: shocker. Can drink blood in peace in this town I swear

Cyrus: do you drink tomato juice?

TJ smiled at his phone screen, laughing at Cyrus’ comments. “Hey, TJ,” Amber told him, making him look up. “You don’t have to tell me you have a crush on Cyrus. I think your smile says it all.”

“Oh, shut up,” TJ rolled his eyes, a small smile breaking onto his lips.

Well, alright, okay, you win

I'm in love with you

Baby, what can I do?

I'll do anything you say

It's just got to be that way

It was nearly ten o’clock when Cyrus had told TJ goodnight. Before that, Cyrus had told him he was proud of him for doing his math homework, making TJ feel like a giddy dork on the inside. It felt good to have someone tell him he was doing good. He hadn’t had a conversation with his parents in a few days, so Cyrus and Amber were all he had.

TJ stood up on his bed and reached for the polaroid of him and Cyrus on his ceiling. The second he pulled it off, Amber walked into his room, scaring him. TJ quickly sat back down and slid the photo under his pillow. He should’ve given up the minute Amber walked in.

“What is that?” Amber grinned.

“What’s what?” TJ furrowed his brows, sitting up and then sitting back down on the pillow.

“If it’s the polaroid of you two together, you’re whipped,” she laughed and took a seat at his desk. TJ saw no point in hiding it anymore, so he let out an audible annoyed huff before moving and taking out the photo. It was the one where they were simply smiling but something about it made him want to stare at it forever. They just looked like good friends, and TJ felt like he was okay with that.

“I think he looks good in this photo,” TJ thought out loud, immediately clasping his hand over his mouth as Amber let out an ‘aww.’

“I think it’s cute that you like him,” Amber smiled at him as she played with a Rubix cube he had on his desk.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel cute,” TJ mumbled. “You know, knowing that nothing can’t ever happen.”

“You’re so pessimistic, I swear. As soon as you say “no” to something, you never want to change your mind.”

“Well, we don’t exactly come from the most optimistic family. Let’s see. Nana has seen everyone she loves die and hates most of dad’s side.”

“She’s a million years, old, okay? Plus, was going to see GG die eventually.”

“Dad is probably still upset that his heavy metal band never got a break.”

“They were called the Black Collared Workers, and he had to get a day job as a white collared worker. The irony probably hurts him.”

“Mom didn’t want kids and she got stuck with two of us.”

“Technically, she could’ve put us up for adoption.”

“Oh yeah. Because GG was going to let her.”

“As soon as GG saw I was a girl, he was probably like, ‘Shit. I guess I have a new dancing partner. Oh wait? There’s a boy? Hell yeah. Let’s go fishing.’”

“I still danced with GG,” TJ laughed, smiling at a photo of the old man on his ceiling. TJ looked like him a lot. It pleased their Nana who was their GG’s daughter- mostly because she didn’t want her grandkids to look like the Kippen’s. TJ bit his lip before turning to Amber and asking, “Do you think GG would’ve been fine with me being gay?”

Amber smiled at him, “I think GG would’ve driven us to Pride if we asked him. So yeah, TJ. I really do.” TJ gave her a tight-lipped smile before looking at the photo of Cyrus in his hand.

“I really like Cyrus, you know?”

“I know.”

All that I am askin'

All I want from you

Is just love me like I love you

And it won't be hard to do

If you're going to be my man

Sweet baby, take me by the hand

For those who asked to be tagged :) @magicalcowboycalzonemoney @the-greatt-perhaps @thedampjofangirl @evaeselgreatest

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Also I know my updated are really sporadic right now, but I swear I’ll have a set day where I update once a week in about 2 weeks when I start school. I’m majoring in creative writing, so I know I’ll have a few other stories on my plate :) Thank you for the support so far <3

Love, Star

Next Chapter

#stars writing #andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #tjs playlist

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thetrashthatsmilesback · 7 years

Text

Was I blind and deaf and dumb I didn’t know how bad it had become Or how to save you (because I'm basic and part of me hurt me emotionally)

This is a character study of the relationship between Larry and Connor. Its towards the beginning of Connor's junior year, and is a lead up to what is implied to be his first attempt. This is really dark, so please be safe.

Warnings: f slur suicidal ideation psycho used as a slur sociopath used as a slur referenced abuse drug addiction referenced self harm referenced suicide attempt

This is cross posted to AO3 here x.

This is canon compliant, but since its pre-canon it could be considered a prequel to Connor lives AUs

I also took the idea of Connor's middle name being Lawrence from @Ch-ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb as they are my biggest writing inspiration.

Larry Murphy had never been able to bond with his son. Connor was complicated, and a total mama’s boy through and through. Their interests didn’t coincide, their social lives were complete opposites, and while Larry’s masculinity was hard to doubt, Connor had always been a bit… prissy. Of course Larry cared for and loved his son, he just wasn’t sure how to generally interact with him in any way. After their fight last night he wanted to try and fix the bond that had been lost somewhere along the way.

“Connor, where were you last night?”

“Out.”

“Out where? Your mom’s sleeping meds were also missing. I want to see them now, and I want every pill that should be in the bottle to be in the bottle.” Connor scoffed, shaking his head. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, rimmed with red. There were long fading tear tracks going down his cheeks. His hair had obviously gone at least a week without being washed.

“Yea… I don’t think you’ll be too pleased if you want all of the pills in the bottle. There’s maybe,” he looked at the ceiling in thought, “half? Yeah. Half a bottle left.” He nodded with his lips pursed before speaking again. “Although, I ran into some kid and he made a joke that wasn’t at my expense and I was able to-” Larry finally cut the brunet boy off.

“Half the bottle is left? Did you overdose? How did you not pass out? Where were you?” Connor rolled his eyes, only the blue and brown one visible from behind his curtain of hair.

“Jeez, I didn’t take them all. Like you said, they’re mom’s prescription.” Larry could feel his jaw tensing.

“Well you shouldn’t have taken any. I want the bottle back right now Connor Lawrence Murphy.” The boy pushed his chair out from the table.

“Fine!” He huffed before running up the staircase. About five minutes later he came back down with a small orange bottle with the name Cynthia Murphy written across its label. He handed it to the redheaded woman, and sat back down. His plate had barely been touched.

“Connor, sweetie, you really shouldn’t take anything that isn’t prescribed to you.” She reached out to run her hand over his hair but he jerked away making a strangled noise.

“So, Zoe, how’s school been this week?” The younger Murphy made a small non-committal sound before looking up.

“My teachers have been trying to cram a lot in before Thanksgiving Break, but for the most part it's okay. I got the solo in the jazz band concert again. You are coming right?” She looked up, hopeful.

“Of course Zoe! We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Zoe’s hair was in a ponytail, fully showing off the vibrant indigo streaks running through it like lightning.

“Well… I mean, you missed it last year.” Suddenly there was an intensity in the air that could be cut with a knife.

The year before, during the Thanksgiving jazz band performance, Connor had been home alone. During it he went out to get high, but ended up passing out and being found by a young mom and her two kids in a park. Cynthia had missed most of the concert due to being in the emergency room with her sobering son.

“That won’t happen again this year dear. I promise, we’ll be there.” Her look was tight, like a wound coil, but she managed to smile at her daughter. It was in moments like these that Larry truly loved his wife. She’d do anything to keep the family together.

“What about you Connor, how’s school been for you?” As soon as the question left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. The evening hadn’t been perfect, definitely tense, with fairly terse answers, but asking this question was like cocking a loaded gun. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zoe pull her legs up to her chest in a defensive pose. Cynthia began, as imperceptible as possible, to move all of the cutlery away from Connor. His son, for the second time this meal, looked up through the curtain of that damn hair.

“I-uh- it’s been… fine?” He could see Connor clenching his fist into his palm, but for some reason decided to push.

“Has it really?” Connor nodded, looking down at the table. Zoe shot a glance in between Larry and Connor, and readied herself to dart from the room. “Because I got an interesting call from your latin teacher. She said you haven’t been to class in two weeks.”

“Not now Larry, Connor has been feeling sick. We can discuss this later.” Cynthia’s tone was soft but commanding. It was obvious she was demanding her husband to not push their son further. The one in question simply lowered his head more, face completely concealed by hair, and muttered a low ‘fucking bitch’ below his breath.

“No Cynthia. I doubt he’s been sick for two weeks. In fact, the only class that i haven’t been informed of your missing has been English. Where are you during the day Connor?”

“I’ve been out.”

“Where?”

“Larry not right now.”

“God does it even fucking matter?” Connor’s head shot up, and Larry could see the tears forming in his son’s eyes. He’s not high then. He would be yelling by now if he were, the red was simply from crying. For some reason he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was sick of this, this shit that Connor would pull. He’d do anything to get out of class, even fake stomach aches and claim that the people there made him want to throw up. Larry remembered being a teenager, he was similar to Connor - skipping class to go behind the school and smoke cigarettes with the rest of the jocks. He knew Connor wasn’t actually sick, he just wanted to go feed his oxy addiction.

“It does matter. You need to go to class Connor. You can’t live on our couch forever.” Connor stood up abruptly, causing Zoe to finally dart out of the room, slamming her door shut and driving the lock home.

“You sound like my fucking counselor! You can’t keep failing Connor!” he was sneering in a voice that was definitely nothing like his counselor’s. “English isn’t a viable degree Connor! Your math grades are too fucking low Connor! Don’t you want to graduate? Do you really think that your parents want to be stuck with you for the rest of your fucking life? Do you honestly think, that anyone would want to support a fucking piece of shit like you?” He smashed a glass as he said the last one, tears flowing down his angular cheeks, and gasps falling out of his mouth. Cynthia stood up and began to walk towards him, but Connor backed away from her. “God, do you honestly think I don’t fucking know I’m on the verge of dropping out? Do you honestly think that I don’t know I’m throwing everything away? I can’t fucking do this any fucking more! You’re my parents! You’re supposed to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay and help me lay out my fucking options but you don’t fucking care! No one fucking cares! No one fucking listens when I say that I can’t fucking stand that place! I can’t go in without people making school shooter jokes, or cowering, or shoving shit into my locker, or telling me to just fucking kill myself as if I don’t already fucking want to!” He was full out sobbing now, his hand cut up from the broken glass.

“Connor, oh Connor. You don-”

“Yes! I fucking do. I just fucking want to be fucking dead. I can’t fucking take this any fucking more.” Cynthia walked up to their now hyperventilating son and walked him over to the couch where she held him.

Later that night Larry and Cynthia got into a fight about whether Connor meant what he said or not. Larry just couldn’t accept that his son was honestly suicidal - it had to be for attention. A way to get more drugs to get high off of. Cynthia had argued back that he couldn’t be lying. That this isn’t the first time their son has told them that he wants to die.

He came back out of his reverie in front of the banged up door of his sixteen year old son. The door was banged up, covered in dents and scratches from nights when Connor had come home too drunk or high to even open the door. He reached up and knocked softly, calling out “Connor? I want to come in.” He cracked open the door to see his oldest lying on the bed reading. He was totally engrossed, headphones on, knees at his chest, head buried into the pages so deep that only his eyes - visibly alight with excitement - and a light blush across his cheeks were visible.

Larry stood there a moment, staring at the boy. His hair was getting relatively long, reaching to about his mid neck in length. His jacket - something that Cynthia had picked up from the consignment shop that looked like it belonged with a dressier shirt than what Connor usually paired it with - was rolled up to his elbows revealing a scattering of scars. They made Larry sick to his stomach. Connor had self harmed on and off since the end of sixth grade, and although most of the cuts were so faded you couldn’t even see where they were, the newer ones were a dark red. His shirt was disheveled and had rid up to expose a small portion of stomach, also littered with the dark lines. His legs were bent supporting the relatively thick book resting on them, in black ripped skinny jeans covered in white and blue paint.

Larry cleared his throat and finally Connor looked up, the light clearing from his eyes to be replaced with a blank stare. “Hey, wha-what are you reading?” Connor looked down at his book, back up at his dad, and then at the book again.

“Its-” his voice was hoarse, desperately needing to be cleared, “It’s War and Peace? Like… the book by Leo Tolstoy?” When Larry said nothing, simply moving closer to his son to attempt to talk, he flushed and continued. “There’s, a um, there’s a musical in previews about it. So I uh, decided to read it.” Larry nodded and sat at the edge of the dark bed.

“You like musicals? I always thought you were more into rock bands.”

“I like both.” So far this was going better than expected. Connor had opened up about his book and taste in music without it becoming a screaming match.

“Why don’t you put on a musical for me then?” Connor looked up at him suspiciously. “I’m trying to bond with you Connor. I want you to feel safe here.” Connor simply looked down again, before carefully opening his bedside table’s drawer. Larry paled and felt sick at what was inside. It was lined with various bags of pills, powders, and weed. Some were obviously painkillers, others were sleeping pills, and some he didn’t want to know what they were.

“My drug issues aren’t exactly secret.” Connor murmured while grabbing his phone out from underneath a bag of light blue powder. He probably felt that this was an excuse for blatantly showing it off to Larry. “Can you just… can you not tell mom? I don’t want her to worry. Like, I know I’m a dick, but I’m not that much of a self centered ass.”

“She’s already worried Connor. Every night when you don’t get home until two, three in the morning - if at all, she’s worried. Every time you come home drunk or high, or come to breakfast hungover, she’s worried. When those damn scars are on display, she’s worried. Last night when you said you wanted to kill yourself, you made her worried.” Connor looked up at him, his eyes hard.

“Is that really why you’re in here? To make me feel guilty? Are you going to record this as well? Hahaha,” his sarcastic laugh was cold and bitter, “How fucking funny is this! Connor Lawrence Murphy feels bad! He’s not a total sociopath after fucking all! Lets all laugh at his drug addiction while he has a fucking breakdown!” His face had grown cold, hands clenching at the book.

“Connor, that’s not why I’m here. Why would I want to show off my own son’s tantrums?” Larry’s voice had risen, he felt it himself. This wasn’t what he wanted, he had wanted to try. “Wait, Connor,” He had taken a deep breath while his son curled himself even more into a ball, “I didn’t mean it like that. Why do you think I’d record you?”

“Zoe would.”

“Your sister wouldn’t Connor.”

“Look me in the eye and say that.” At this Connor looked up and made eye contact. Those peculiar eyes with brown speckling the left sea of blue. Neither Cynthia nor Larry knew where the heterochromia came from, both of them being blue eyed. When Connor’s eye first started darkening Larry had assumed that Cynthia had cheated on him. When she denied it, half in tears, he decided to just leave it alone.

“Connor, I don’t want to do this right now.”

“You can’t can you?”

“Connor-”

“Do you know what they call me at school?” Larry looked back at his son again, raising an eyebrow.

“Psycho Connor, Crazy Connor, Connor the School Shooter, bomber, fucking serial killer. They film me and then put it on the internet. They call me fag and sociopath and revolting, they tell me to kill myself before I kill one of them. I just wanted to know that someone could guarantee that they didn’t believe that about me.” Connor looked up through his curtain of hair. “I’m abusive to Zoe. I’m awful to mom, mom who lets me do whatever. And then to you, I egg you on. I’m an ass. You treat me like a criminal, and I give you every reason to.” Connor looked back down at his legs, biting his bottom lip. “Can you go?”

“Connor I-”

“I just want you to go!” His voice raised, eyes full of tears, face flushing a dark red. Larry did leave at that, and he pretended he didn’t hear the broken sobs. He pretended he had never seen the drawer of drugs. He pretended the scars, and paranoia, and slurs weren’t parts of his son.

Larry had never understood his son, but the next morning when they found him in a pool of his own vomit, an empty pill bottle in his hand, he wished more than anything that he had tried harder.

#connor murphy #larry murphy #cynthia murphy #zoe murphy #tw self harm #self harm #tw suicide #suicide #tw f slur #f slur #tw psychopath used as a slur #psychopath used as a slur #tw drug abuse #drug abuse #character study #relationship study

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2-xv · 7 years

Text

Listen, Don’t Hear

There was a knock on the door. It was first period, the end of the semester. Class would be starting in 5 minutes. What could be waiting on the other side of the door this early morning?

“Sorry to disrupt your class.” said the principal.

Being in high school, they say that if you know any of the staff of the school besides those you have to associate with, you must be a troublemaker, and I was not one of those people. She was with a two police officers. Going to a pretty average school, seeing them in school wasn’t very odd, but to have them come to our class was surprising. Whispers started to float around the air.

“Yo! Who snitched?” said one of my friends making us all laugh, and the class’ volume started to grow.

“Okay, class settle down!” said Mr. Smith, my data management teacher for the semester. The class settled down a bit, still with whispers. For a moment, it was light fun time until I heard my name be called.

“We need to speak to Roy Chandler.” said the officer. It wasn’t just my name that made my heart drop, but her tone. She said it in a way a doctor would tell a patient that they had a week to live.

“My guy, what did you do? What’s going on?” my best friend, Noah, asked me.

I shrugged. I had no clue what was happening. I got up and started walking from the back left corner in the class, where my little group of friends had huddled up for the semester, but as soon as I took two steps the principal stopped me.

“Please gather all your things.” the whole class, already staring at me, looked at me differently for a second. For some reason, even I thought I did something wrong. Am I getting arrested? Did I do something illegal? What do they know about me? What’s going on? The worst I’ve done was get high once, and it wasn’t even mine. Could I go to jail for that? Charged with consumption of illegal substances- is that even what the charge is? No, I can’t be going to jail for that, everybody smokes. Can’t be downloading illegal music either. What did I do to get me into a mess with the police?

I put on my jacket, get my backpack, which was filled with barely anything since it’s basically a free period due to exams coming. I dab up my boys and proceed to walk to the door.

“Free up Roy!” all my friends start chanting, basically implying that I was going to jail and needed to be released. Chuckling out of the room, the two officers, male and female, both around my height are the same eye-level, looking at me with barely any expression. Still smiling, I look at the principal. She looks at me with eyes of pity, also seeming to be on the verge of tears. What is this? Are these eyes of disappointment of having one of her students at her school being arrested on school property? The male officer beings to speak in a clear, very deep voice.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you, during a time like this, and at school, but your father has passed away this morning.”

The school bell rings.

Numb. If that was a feeling, that’s how I feel. Blank. My mind is empty. Broken, torn, damaged, shattered, crushed. Those are the best ways to describe what’s coming. My dad, not just my father, dead?

“Since you’re still a minor, what we...” says the woman police officer, but her words just fade in and out. Everything just goes slow. I’m stuck in my own mind.

“...with us, because there aren’t any relatives that...” in and out her sentences flow. The three of them continue to look at me. They see that I’m empty. The principal starts to cry. Why the hell is she crying? She doesn’t know me, she didn’t know dad, she cries for what? Pity? I continue to look down at the male officer’s boots. That’s all I’m focused on right now. The salt stains that haven’t been cleaned in weeks, the small trails of dirt and water they made through the hallway. I can’t right now. I can’t give into what they’re saying. I don’t know. There’s nobody left in this world. My mother’s relatives all passed away. Dad was an only child and my grandparents are gone too. Oh, but they don’t even mention Chris. I don’t want to hear them trying to hunt him down anymore. He left when I was born. Either way, the only way we’re related or have any sort of “relationship” is that we have the same parents. I wouldn’t even consider him family, but some guy who has the same blood.

“... will be fine, so don’t worry.” says the male officer.

“Why?” I say.

That’s the first thing I say to the three of them in this five minute talk that feels like a complete hour. They all look confused. They all look at me while I solely focus on him. I look up at him, looking at him dead in the eye. I step up to his face with this subtle aggression. We’re only centimeters from touching. Nobody stops me. He looks into my eyes as well. He tries to find me, he switches back and forth from eye to eye. Nobody pushes me off or tells me to stop. He can see it in my eyes that there’s nothing. No feeling, no family, no filter, no excuses, no love,- nothing. I feel drips off my chin. I feel a ball in my throat and my face growing warm. I realize that I’m crying. In the officer’s face, you see what he sees. He sees a kid, who’s just lost something so important to him. He sees a kid who’s life just fell apart in his face. He sees the effects of words, the chain of events that can just break somebody. I can see it in his eyes though, he shows me no pity. He knows what’s coming in my life, he knows that I’m going to remember this day for the rest of my life. He knows that I’m out for a long ride. I can see the other officer in the corner of my eye, just looking at us. She understands this moment we’re having. Despite being strangers, the three of us are standing here, sharing an atmosphere. The sobs of the principal can’t be heard in this little bubble. It’s completely silent between us. You can only hear the drips of their wet boots and the tears dropping off my face. Sounds that can’t be heard. A break down. Grabbing onto his shoulders, my legs just disappeared from my body. The officer trying to hold me to stand. I’m screaming. “WHY?” I’m screaming like I’ve never screamed before. I become a mess. Already drenched in tears, I’m on the ground with the small puddles I was just looking at with no feeling. I’m asking him an impossible question. “What’s going on?!” “What happened?” “Roy!” Four of my boys rush out of the classroom talking all at the same time. My back towards them, seeing I’m on my knees gripping onto this officer with the other one trying to help him to keep me standing. The principal starts to cry again. They take about ten seconds to analyze what’s going on while Noah, my best friend, doesn’t even take a millisecond to run up and help the two officers hold me up. Noah has never seen me like this. He’s completely shocked. We’ve been friends literally our entire lives. In a split second, I see his nervous and completely confused face. He just holds me. He holds me like I’m dying in his arms. The rest of my friends don’t know what to do. The officers back up a little while looking at me and each other. We’re sitting there on the wet ground. I don’t even notice the amount of people around us. Some people come out of their classrooms while the teachers try to hold them back. The officers command everybody that there’s nothing to see and to go back to their classrooms. My friends join in and the officers let them. “What the hell are you looking at? Go back to class you idiot!” says Kendrick. “GWAN.” says Jaden in his deep loud voice, scaring some people back to class. In these moments the hallway starts to clear. All classroom doors are shut.

Plot

Followed music career despite the complications of losing their only relative and having their love interest cheat on him. Was adopted by a person 10 years older than they were.

Time

January 2020, end of first semester of grade 12.

CHARACTERS

Roy Chandler

Protagonist, 17 years old

Born January 1st, 2002 to Raymond Chandler and Caroline Chandler (deceased when giving birth). Has an older brother who is 10 years older, moved out when he was 16, named Chris Chandler, whereabouts unknown. Has a best friend named Noah Graham. Moves ever so often due to father`s late payments on rent. His father works in a factory. They live in apartments across the GTA and he has only been to few outside events such as traveling to New York every New Years. He's been writing music since he was a kid. Self-taught himself to play the piano, drums, violin, and bass guitar. He has never been inside a studio, nor know how those things work, barely uses software. He met his girlfriend at a party and in grade nine in his math class. Later, he witnesses his girlfriend, Tina cheating on him with a guy she has actually been talking to for two months. After a month of severe depression, he comes back to his music and starts to take opportunities that change his life for the better.

Tina Smith

17 years old, Roy’s love interest

Born September 28, 2002. Has a year older sister and divorced parents due to her mother cheating on her father. She does good in school, recently moved from Montreal to Toronto from her father's house to her mother’s due to the fact that her father needed to travel for work. She meets Ernest at a party and eventually gets with him while still being together with Roy.

Ernest Ravera

18 years old, Tina’s new boyfriend

Born August 9th, 2001. Met Tina at a party and tries to court her not knowing that she has a boyfriend. He knew that she was talking to another guy (Roy), but didn’t know that they were exclusive until Roy eventually confronts him casually asking him what his intentions were. He thoughts that Roy and Tina were best friends and didn’t know that Roy was the same guy Tina was talking about when she mentioned that she was talking to somebody else.

Raymond Chandler

Husband of Caroline Chandler, father of Roy Chandler and Chris Chandler

Born and raised in Toronto, met his wife in the fifth grade and eventually married at the age of 20 in 1993 since Caroline was pregnant with Chris.

Chris Chandler

27 years old, Roy’s brother

Born on May 22nd, 1993. Later finds Roy and tries to patch the non-existent brotherhood they missed out on.

Lovell Woods

27 years old, adopted parent, secretly a music artist and mechanical engineer

Was an orphan, born and raised in Rexdale until he was 20 years old and able to move into Toronto to pursue his masters degree in mechanical engineering. He is also a very popular anonymous artist. He sees a lot of himself in Roy, thus tries to be his life mentor and gives him underlying music tips through life lessons.

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