#I'M SORRY I'm just so. I've been over this for months. And now that I'm THIS close to getting answers

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

[spicyclover]

You used me

Summary : It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did.

Next part of "You betrayed me"

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

When the door closed that night, I collapsed on the floor of my kitchen, on the cold tiles. In the weeks that followed, I spent them in a blur. I kept myself busy to stop thinking, to stop thinking about you. I lived on automatism. I'm a fucking robot, because of you. I get up in the morning without motivation and go to bed with the ball in my stomach to meet you in my dreams.

I’ve been going over and over our conversation. I’m a bet. A fucking, humiliating bet. I have never been more shame than that evening. Everyone knew and no one told me. They knew that I loved you so bad, and I let you treat me like that. I'm so naïve. I just want myself back. I just wanted to be enough. Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don't tell me you're sorry. You should feel sorry for yourself. An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.

Once the door was closed. My friends left with you. Because you bring them more than I could ever and it hurts like hell. To see these "friends" I know since my early childhood mock me for my naivety. Until this day, it is hard to believe. I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one, In a short time you became the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I like to dream. And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did. You betrayed me.

For the first time since we broke up, I saw you in the street. You had your arm on a new girl. Showing her off like she's a new trophy. A happy and rested look on your face. I wish I dared to come running and punch that smile off your face, but I couldn’t move. You hang out in public with her, but never with me. I went home with tears in my eyes and no morale. It was the first time I managed to leave home after weeks of moping.

The more time passed, the more I felt my head getting out of the water. My body was less numb and I started breathing again, enjoying what I used to love. I adopted a little puppy at this time of my life, the kind we talked about in our long late-night discussion about our future together. You gave me your word. He's the world to me now. Milo, the dog.

The late afternoon often takes me to the beach. I let Milo run on the deserted beach and play with the waves. I take advantage of this moment of calm to observe the sunset. I breathe in and out deeply, letting my last thoughts of you go into the sea. I feel free. After three months of hell, I’m back to normal, like you never existed.

"Hi, bab..." That voice is yours. Why do you come back? Why do you haunt me like that? I turn around and there you are, in all your splendour. Your curls are more beautiful than ever, your face more beautiful than ever. I can't let you win. I walk away from the beach. Milo follows me. I feel your eyes following me soon it's your footsteps I hear. "Please, Y/n, I need to talk to you."

"I think you said enough. You should go back to your new girlfriend. I think she's getting lonely." I said without looking back. The waves fade and I feel your hand grab my arm.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris sad

[strawberrysodaslut]

idk if you can do this but can you do a poly!marauders x gn!reader, and the boys’ reactions when yn wears a binder one day.

i'm not trans nor have i ever worn a binder, so i hope this is an accurate portrayal!! feel free to correct me on anything i've messed up.

Getting a binder was a long time coming. After months of research, hesitations and all the time spent waiting, going to the store and getting one, you never thought wearing something to bind would make you feel so damn free. Finally, understanding what people meant when you heard about gender euphoria.

You hadn’t told the boys about your latest purchase. In fact, you hadn’t brought up the concept to them. Not that they hadn’t been supportive of you, they really were. In a world of magic, pronouns were something that hardly needed grasping, and they would correct anyone who messed up politely, sending you a soft smile as they did. But- you couldn’t help but be anxious about them finding out. What if this was too much? What if they get freaked out?

So, you kept your binder to yourself.

At first, you didn’t think they had noticed. You wore looser clothes or sports bras earlier, so it probably wasn’t as big of a difference to others. It wasn’t until dinner that night where you noticed Sirius staring at you from across the table.

“What?” You said, chomping down on a bread roll to hide the way self conciousness ebbed in your chest.

Sirius squinted his eyes, looking like James when he tries to read without his glasses. “You look different.” He says. “Did you do something to your face?”

James laughs from next to you. “Did they do something to their face? What kind of question is that, Padfoot?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Sirius exclaims, “Admit it though Prongs, something about them is different!”

You find it hard to not instinctively crawl under the table to hide. So you curl in on yourself, pressing your chin to your chest to calm the heat across your cheeks. As if he can sense your anxiety, Remus places his hand on your shoulder.

“Guys stop.” He says, light concern lacing his voice, but he’s clearly trying to hide it. “Obviously they’re just relaxed now that the holidays are coming, isn’t that right?” He says to you, giving you a slight smirk and raise of his eyebrows that only happen during his most devious pranks. ‘go with this’, he silently urges you.

You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m glad classes are almost over.”

“Well,” Sirius starts, “We should have holidays more often then. Haven’t seen you this confident in- I don’t even know.”

“I’ll start the petition!” James pipes.

You smile, glad to be supported by your boys, but still relieved that your secret remains yours.

Little did you know later that night, the boys had a plan to throw a movie night with you in the common room. So at nighttime, when you had changed out of your binder so you wouldn’t sleep in it, James surprised you by barging into your room.

“Oi! It’s movie time- oh sorry.” James said, cutting himself off to cover his eyes as you put on your sweatshirt.

Remus followed him, quickly closing his eyes and turning around when he saw you, “Jeez Prongs! They’re changing!” He scolded.

“I know! That’s why I’m…” He trails off, gesturing to the hand that’s covering his eye- going completely unnoticed to Remus with his eyes shut tight.

You shake your head, a soft giggle escaping from your lips. God, they’re dramatic. “It’s okay guys, don’t stress.” You throw your sweatshirt over your head. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

James makes a soft grunt, before removing the hand from his eyes and taking you in. “Well, sorry again.” He says. His eyes slowly drift behind you to something on your bed, and tilts his head. “Hey what’s that?”

You almost jump, turning behind you to see your binder laid out on your bed, ready to be put away. You shudder a deep breath before trying your best to gesture nonchalantly. “It’s uh-” It’s hard not to cringe at how your voice trembles. Okay, nonchalant isn’t working. So you instead opt to be candid. “It’s my binder.”

James looks between you and the binder, his brows furrowed. “Binder…?” He questions before his eyes go wide. He paces towards you in a frenzy. “You’re not binding your magic, are you? Listen, you shoul-”

A giggle almost slips out again as you interrupt him before he explodes, “No Prongs! It’s for my chest. It binds my chest.”

Despite the reassurance that no, you were not binding your magic, James doesn’t look any less confused. If anything, he looked even more. “Why would you want to bind your chest?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he makes his way from you to the binder.

Candid, you remind yourself. You’re being candid. “So it would be flatter.” You say.

A beat passes before James replies, still looking down at the material.

“Oh.” “Oh?” You ask. Your heart thumping in your chest with anticipation.

He makes a small squeak as he turns back to you, “I-I just didn’t realise that was something you worried about.” He says, his voice sympathetic but laced with concern. “It’s not…” He pauses, “Is this where we’re supposed to say something to make you feel better? Because you don’t have to do that for other people you know...”

“No, I get that.” You say, a small smile making its way to your face. “This isn’t for other people, it’s for me. I’m more comfortable with myself when I wear it.” You gesture to the binder, as if it hasn’t been the subject of the past couple of minutes.

With that, James’ whole demeanour changes. The tension in his body disappears as he smiles wide. “Well then, we’re thrilled for you. Aren’t we moony?” He says, nudging Remus who has just been staring at you since the conversation started.

As if he has just awoken from a nap, Remus startles to attention. “Oh- uh yes! I’m supportive of whatever you choose as long as you're happy.” Remus replies, smiling at you before chuckling “Sorry it’s just- I knew that’s what was different.”

“You staring at their chest are you?” James teases Remus. “Perv.”

“No! I-” He exclaims, a red tint painting his face.

You smile at him, about to reassure the boy, when a crashing sound comes from downstairs before a yell echoes through the hallway. Remus mutters a small ‘fuck’s sake’ as the cause of the noise comes bounding towards your room.

“Sorry gentlemen- gender neutral, of course. The popcorn has burned.” Sirius announces before he’s entered the room, reeking of burnt popcorn with a few pieces lodged in his hair. Sharing James’ nosiness, his eyes quickly fixate on your binder. “Hey, what’s that?”

James scoffs before turning to Sirius. “It’s a binder, Padfoot, and they’re very happy.” He says with pride, his chin lifting. “Catch up.”

Remus’ attention, however, has drifted away from the binder and he asks the real important question, “How the hell do you burn magic popcorn?”

Sirius jumps to the defensive, “Hey! I’m the one who told you not to put me in charge of food!” He says, throwing his hands up. “I’m obviously more suited to the pillow gathering region.”

With a dictionary worth of swear words, Remus stomps down the hall to make some unburnt popcorn. James quickly following behind, arguing why him being the pillow gatherer was the best choice.

With Sirius and you alone, he turns to you. “Hey, it’s cool that you have that now. Reg used to use one a while ago.” He says, before grabbing your hand, “Now, let’s watch some movies on a subpar pillow arrangement.”

You laugh as you both go to follow the other two boys. “Sounds good.” You say, feeling more secure with them than ever. Your binder sitting blissfully on your bed, ready to be used again tomorrow.

poly marauders masterlist

#marauders #harry potter #poly!maraduers #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders x y/n #marauder x you #marauders fanfic #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff

[comicalbliss]

Nadie Más Que Tú

I wanted to try writing something, I love reading everyone’s beautiful work on here so I thought I'd write my own for funsies.

Just to preface I've never actually written anything before so I'm sorry if it's straight booty cheeks and doesn't make a whole lotta sense.

general warnings/cw: 18+ pls no minors ty, fem!reader, mentions of drinking/going to a bar, eventual smut. lmk if I’ve forgotten anything!

♡o .✿ฺ ✿ฺ ♡o.✿ฺ。✿ฺ♡o.✿ฺ。✿ฺ♡o。.✿ฺ。ฺ ♡

You’ve been casually dating for six months now yet you only ever really see him on weekends and even that’s rare, hell you hadn’t even been intimate with the guy. But today was different. He didn’t have work due to a company dinner he was taking you to. So he decided to take you to the mall. Like a date?

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? I already told you it’s fine if you use my card.” Miguel said, trying to persuade you into buying something.

“I’m fine, I don’t need anything.”

This was true, what more could you want? You have a closet full of clothes and literally anything else you could want thanks to him.

“They have a boutique here, we could buy you a dress for tonight’s dinner.” He suggested.

It was like he was trying to get you to spend his money. Kinda cute honestly.

“Mm.. I guess?” You said a bit hesitant, still not wanting to spend his money.

You head over to the boutique and you start trying on different dresses with the help of one of the workers. Though none of the dresses seemed to be “the one”.

“We just got a beautiful dress shipped in if you want to try that one on.” The worker said.

“Let’s see it!” You said enthusiastically.

The worker goes into the back and brings out a gorgeous burgundy dress. It was long, had intricate lace backing, and a thigh high slit. You excitedly get into the changing room and put it on.

You walk out of the dressing room, it fits perfectly. The fabric hugs your curves in just the right ways, not to mention the color and how well it compliments your skin.

“You like it?” You give Miguel a little twirl to show it off and you SWEAR you saw him blush a little.

He pauses for a second, like he’s lost in a train of thought before he speaks. “It looks fine.” Is all he says though. A little disappointing of a response but.. at least he liked it?

“I’ll take it..!” You say with a smile.

You and Miguel walk out of the boutique, new dress in hand. You have a huge smile on your face.

“Thank you!” you say giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“It’s no problem.” He says with a faint smile.

He then wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked back to his car to leave and get ready at his place for dinner. Weird.. he isn’t usually very affectionate or the type to touch you in public…

— — —

About 30 minutes before dinner you were about done getting ready, putting on your new dress and some other accessories.

As you’re getting ready you just can’t shake off the thought of Miguel putting his arm around you like that, it makes your heart flutter a bit just thinking about it. What did it mean-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Miguel’s voice.

“You ready?”

He was still putting on his tie when he walked in the room.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Are we leaving now?” You looked up at him.

He kinda just stands in the doorway for a second, staring…

“Ah, yeah. Let’s go.” He cleared his throat and walked out.

Weird.. what was that about… he’s been like this ever since you left the boutique...

— — —

Dinner was pretty normal. If normal was horribly boring. All they were doing was talking about business stuff that you had absolutely no interest in. You were bored out of your mind.

Eventually the conversation shifts in a different direction. “So, how did you two meet?” One of Miguel’s co-workers asks. “We had no idea Miguel had a girlfriend.” Another spoke up.

You were a little caught off guard by the question and the response it got from the other co-worker… How did you guys meet..

“We met through a mutual friend.” You replied, sheepishly picking up your drink and taking a sip.

That was a lie. You actually met at a bar, nothing too crazy but it doesn’t sound very professional and you didn’t wanna embarrass Miguel.

You were down at a bar late at night with some of your girlfriends when you spotted a cutie all by himself. He looked a little older, just your type. With a little “Be right back!” you made your way over to him and started some small talk.

“This seat taken?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

Nonchalant type. I can work with that.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

You sit down and scoot yourself closer to him.

“What’s that?” You say pointing at his drink

“Whiskey.”

“Ugh, so boring..”

You picked up his drink and were about to take a sip when he gently grabbed it back.

“That’s unsanitary.” He gave a fake scowl.

“You almost didn't stop me.” You smile up at him proudly.

He scoffed.

“You got insta?”

“Excuse me?”

You rolled your eyes

“I thought you were older but I didn’t think you were that old.” You smirked. Sliding your already unlocked phone over to him.

He looked at you hesitantly before taking your phone and typing something in. He set your phone down before getting up and walking away without another word. Rude. With a giddy smile you pick up your phone and read.

don’t have one

That bastard…

— — —

“She’s just as amazing as the day we met.” Miguel chimed in.

“That’s really sweet!” The co-worker cooed.

You looked up at Miguel and smiled. He then rested one of his hands on your thigh, causing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. He was doing it again.. so oddly affectionate.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. However, you still couldn’t shake off that weird feeling. Up until this point things with Miguel had never been this way. You treated each other like close friends most of the time.

The time to leave eventually rolled around and you both headed home, you could feel a strange tension in the car. You kept looking over at him but he looked fine.

I’m probably just tired..

Once home you noticed his demeanor had changed, he was acting a little strange but you tried to think nothing of it, he was probably just tired too.

You headed to his bedroom with him. As you went to close the door you turned around to find Miguel was standing in front of you, arms crossed.

“What are you doing..?” You ask fully confused on why he was standing there like that.

Miguel stepped closer to you, pushing you against the door. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, faster than you ever thought possible. He was much bigger than you, and that was very clear in this moment.

He leaned his head down close to your ear.

“You have no idea how fucking good you look in that dress.” Miguel whispered the vibration of his voice going straight to your core.

You could practically see the lust in his eyes.

“I thought about doing this in the dressing room at the boutique.” He said now running his hand down your curves.

You laughed nervously, squirming a bit. This has to be a joke… right?

“Miguel–” You tried to speak.

He turned you around on the door pressing himself against you again, you could feel his hard-on against your ass. Nope, definitely not a joke.

“How much did you have to drink?” You asked nervously as he pressed kisses on the back of your neck.

“I didn’t drink tonight.” He replied.

He then wrapped his arms around your waist resting his head on your shoulder.

“I just want you, I’ve wanted you..” He whispered into the shell of your ear, the words coming out of his mouth like honey. You could feel the wetness pool in your panties at the sound.

Fuck. He’s so hot. Why is he so hot? What is happening?!

#miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x fem!reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #atsv miguel #miguel 2099

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

If you do take requests at this moment, can I request a Hualian x GN reader where reader feels like the third wheel, and when Hualian look further into reader, they find out that reader is hurting themselves/trying to change in the way they look

That Hualian would baby reader, like take sharp objects out of arm’s reach, or spoon feed reader when it’s time to eat. Giving reader kisses and words of affirmation every time they’re around

Lol, I’m feeling very angsty, but if this request is a little too far, you don’t have to do it (I hope you’re doing great! Make sure to drink enough water!) 🥰

Shape Shifting Heart

HuaLian x gn!reader

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC

Made up looks about reader for plot

Tyyy Pepsi zero has become my hydration 😔🙏

Also I'm so sorry for disappearing but I've had like the worst few months of my life ever so 😃🙏 bear with me

____________________________________

Being with Xie Lian and San Lang is the best thing that has ever happened to you. There's so much love to go around with three people and everyone is always taking care of each other! So you never listened to people being hateful about it, whether that be other gods or ghosts. You guys are happy and that all that matters right?

What happens when all of you aren't happy, when it's just one person bringing down the mood and the whole relationship? That's how you've been feeling lately. You haven't been much use to Xie Lian and San Lang these days. Often, you've been curled up in bed and staying hidden under the covers. For what reason? They don't know. You won't talk to them, and while Xie Lian and San Lang pride themselves on knowing you inside and out they can't figure out what's wrong.

You can't tell them. It's kind of embarrassing, humiliating even. How do you tell your lovers, "I feel like the third wheel, I feel neglected and left out" to the two kindest people you've ever met. Everything you do seems to make it worse and you're trying your best so you don't understand why it seems to put your relationship more on edge.

You had honestly just wanted to sulk and pout for a few days in bed over something silly. When they stopped visiting the bedroom it became a problem. All you do is lie here so what could possibly have made them want to leave you alone? You aren't even doing anything to warrant them off! Xie Lian and San Lang easily coddle each other all the time so why don't they think to do it with you? They stopped coming to the shared bedroom, even going as far to sleep in another bedroom together, but by themselves without you.

It only made you feel worse, are you so depressed and off putting they don't want to be near you now? Sadness becomes frustration and it fuels you to get out of bed in what has been weeks. You leave the room disheveled and groggy hoping to find one of your lovers to receive some affection, to you it feels like you haven't had in forever.

You find them together in the kitchen, an awfully domestic scene. Xie Lian cooking dinner and San Lang attached by the hip. The way San Lang holds Xie Lian's waist and stays close while Xie Lian bustles around the kitchen. Where you had once been and would usually love to hear the sound of their laughs and love filled giggles all it sounds like is mocking joy of what you once felt. How many nights has it been like this? How many nights have they been content without you?

"Making dinner without me?" You pipe up, leaning against the kitchen counter. Making dinner is a silly thing to be upset about. A part of you feels awful for being so jealous but the other doesn't. It's not like you're jealous of San Lang or jealous of Xie Lian. You don't spite a specific person. You're just jealous of the love they share, of their bond. You're envious of their happiness, you just want to be included too!

"Ah, y/n!", Xie Lian gives a wobbly smile, "Of course not" Xie Lian didn't know how to bring up that they've been trying to give you space. He doesn't know how to say it in a way that would sound reasonable to you. These days you've been a little irritated and you easily take words they say but add a whole new meaning to it. They know it's not your fault, it's one of your episodes maybe.

No one moves. They don't know whether to extend a hand to invite you or not but you seem to take it upon yourself. You walk closer and stick right up to Xie Lian's and San Lang's side. The tension - you can't tell if you're imagining it or not, you've been imagining a lot these days - is thick. "Well I feel a little better so I'll join from now on, what are you making?" You try to make conversation, you try to move closer in hopes that the domestic scene will just continue.

It doesn't. The room is tense and so are your lovers. You hate it. It makes you want to lash out, cry, and scream. Xie Lian and San Lang seem to be walking on eggshells around you and you don't know why. You've never gotten angry with them before, you've never been violent or aggressive with them so why are they acting like you're a ticking bomb?

San Lang attempts to break the tense atmosphere first. Wrapping hesitant hands around your waist and nuzzling into your hair, hair he will not mention is a bit notty. "We missed you" he murmurs into your long, bright locs. "We're glad you feel better" this seems to get the night moving smoothly again. It's pathetic how quickly you melt into San Lang's touch and preen at his words. It finally feels like you're included in the domestic picture they make.

The three of you eat dinner and enjoy it, Xie Lian's cooking has been getting a lot better but that's probably because you and San Lang were in the kitchen to help him. You're filled with a deep satisfaction when Xie Lian gently grabs your hand and all of you go to your shared bedroom together. Xie Lian pulls you into bed and They cuddle up next to you under the covers, placing gentle kisses on your face and shoulders.

You feel suddenly energetic because of the affection you're receiving. Making you giggle and kissing them back with new found passion. You won't lie you guys haven't had sex in a while so. . . You easily climb on San Lang, and straddle his hips. Kissing him eagerly and nipping against his lips. They weren't expecting you to be so eager but who are they to deny you.

Xie Lian gets behind you and slips off your robe, running his hands over your body. Your back, arms, hips, and thighs- your thighs. Xie Lian's hands freeze, and moves his hands as if he's been scalded. The sudden movement catches San Lang's attention and he sits up but he keeps you in his lap. "Gege what's wrong?" San Lang stares at Xie Lian and suddenly all the attention is off you. Somewhere inside you, you feel a little miffed at Xie Lian's reaction.

But you're concerned too so you turn your head to your other lover with concerned eyes, however Xie Lian is the one staring at you with pity. He turns on the light and sits next to San Lang. "His thighs, San Lang. . ." You scrunch your face. Of course that's what Xie Lian reacted so strongly about. While you were rotting in bed you were feeling so down in the dumps. So- so maybe you took it out on yourself and used your sword on your own skin.

It's not that big of a deal, they're already healed and just remain thick scars across your thighs but it matters to your lovers greatly. They've explored your body many times, and they know these are new. "Baobei, what happened?" Xie Lian cups your face with gentle hands but you turn your head the other way. You're irritated the night has stopped over something so trivial. "Nothing important, I was just feeling upset a few weeks ago, it's trivial now. Can't we just- can we not focus on that?"

Your face is scrunched in irritation and you try to roll your hips against San Lang but he removes you from his lap and onto the silk covers. You groan in frustration. The night was going perfectly and now it's all messed up! San Lang's eyes narrow as he gazes over your legs, and you swallow nervously. "This isn't something we can just ignore Y/n. You know that. . . Let's stop here for tonight" If it were San Lang saying it you wouldn't have minded as much but it's Xie Lian.

Xie Lian loves San Lang's body even with the scars on it so why won't he love yours?! "We don't have to stop! Just- ignore it, would you please?! I can get rid of them, I can look like whatever you want me to be! " You never notice when you start heaving for breath, when tears line your eyes and you try to cling to one of your lovers. You don't notice when you subconsciously change your body into something else because it's something you've always had the power to do.

So when your skin becomes smooth again, and unmarked it's something you don't even look over. But for Xie Lian and San Lang it's completely different. It's like looking at a stranger's body. Like looking at somebody who's never worked a day in their life, someone who has never gone to battle, something you are not but you're desperately trying to be. You have no scars, and the callouses on your hands have disappeared. They've memorized everything on you and now you've made yourself look completely different.

To you, it feels like they look at you with disgust and anger. You're breaking down and it's not something you're even registering. "Y/n stop!" San Lang gives up on keeping you on the bed and he lets you crawl into his lap, he cups your face with surprisingly gentle hands that contradict his angry voice. "Breathe Baobei" he rubs comforting circles into your hips and Xie Lian rubs your back. They're trying to get you to breathe and to stop hyperventilating.

San Lang never looks away from you, and he plants tiny kisses in your cheeks to get rid of your tears. When did you start crying? You don't remember. You eventually calm down from listening to your lovers instructions and their loving touches. When you're finally breathing normally again and the tension leaves your body they try talking to you again. Xie Lian rubs his fingers through your hair, he doesn't like how you've easily changed yourself. He misses your bright locs not the dark ones you've decided to take on. He kisses your head. "I want to talk to my Y/n now. Can I?" Xie Lian asks sweetly.

You've always been you but he wants to talk to his lover not the made up version of yourself. You sniffle and San Lang pats your waist. You take the encouragement and change back to your original body. When you make a weird noise in your throat that sounds close to a sob Xie Lian wraps around you and kisses your nape. "That's good Baobei, we're proud of you." San Lang and Xie Lian glance at each other and in that moment decide to drop the topic about your new found scars. They can only try to find the root of the issue now.

San Lang kisses your forehead and then below your eyes and then your lips. "Tell us what's wrong?" San Lang poses it as a question. As in, you don't have to but it would greatly help them if you did. You feel pathetic and selfish. You don't know why you broke down over something so silly and foolish. "I-I felt, I felt like a t-third wheel. You guys seem so happy without me and all I do is mess up, I'm sorry " you start to cry again and you rub at your eyes harshly but San Lang holds your wrists gently and keeps them away from your eyes.

Xie Lian kisses your shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for baobei. No one's at fault." He runs his hands over your thighs, making circles with his fingers. "We didn't mean to make you feel left out, we just wanted to give you space. We thought that's what you needed" Xie Lian explains softly. You nod and sniffle. That's more reasonable than whatever your mind came up with. San Lang pulls you closer by the waist. "If we make you feel like that tell us Baobei, we'll fix it immediately" he says with narrowed eyes. You know he isn't upset with you and he's probably beating himself up for not being able to tell. You kiss him deeply and sigh against his lips.

"M'sorry, I know you love me I just- my mind tells me awful things." You whisper in San Lang's lips and kiss him again. San Lang grunts and playfully tugs a piece of your hair. "Should I beat it up for you?" It makes you giggle.

🦊🪷

For the next few days and even few weeks they baby you endlessly. Xie Lian keeps an eye on sharp objects and makes sure you can't get into the weapons room. He also confiscated your sword and he won't even let you hold knives in the kitchen. The only sword you're allowed to be around is E'ming and they know you wouldn't do that to him or San Lang.

They have no problem with dragging you everywhere they go and often San Lang likes to feed you during meals. At first you blushed and insisted you could do it yourself but San Lang waved your concerns away and said "Let me take care of you". They coddle you a lot and one of them is always in the room with you. You know now that you need to work on your communication and not let your mind get to you. It was a big misunderstanding but San Lang and Xie Lian treat it as if it was a genuine problem.

You're suffocated with love but you wouldn't change it for the world.

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf x male reader #tgcf xie lian #xie lian x reader #mxtx tgcf #tgcf angst

[penkura]

last forever [1/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Notes: Hello, this is a fanfic I've been working on for a few months now. I'm still not done, but I figured I would go ahead and start posting it here as a cross post with Quotev and AO3. Sometimes I find this, Zoro and the story, hard to write, but I'm trying. This will NOT be a one-to-one rehashing of the arcs but will have more focus on Zoro and Reader's relationship as it progresses. The first two chapters are written in past tense, everything afterward is present tense, sorry about that. I've been having more fun writing present tense instead of past tense. I have the first three chapters completed, I'm still working on chapter four, but hope to have it done for Monday, and I intend to update mostly on Mondays for this one. Zoro and Reader call each other husband and wife at times, it's in italics on purpose. Hope you enjoy this one.

You were so grateful you couldn't stop crying and thanked him numerous times, never once telling him you hoped you'd never have to get an annulment with him. Your feelings for him were still new, he was a year older than you, but he'd protected you well in the time you knew each other. Of course, you could hold your own as a swordswoman yourself, but Zoro always tried to leave the recon to you while he took out your bounty targets.

Never did you think or imagine your wedding day would be like this. In a courthouse in a backwoods town with no real witnesses, to someone you'd only known for about a year and a half now. This wasn't even out of love for him, he'd only agreed to prevent you from being legally forced into marriage with a man several years older than you who had two other wives already.

No, you and Roronoa Zoro weren't in love, but he was trying to help you out so you didn't end up in a bad situation or with bodyguards chasing you down to force you back to your home village. When you had told him the story, he was honestly disgusted hearing how your family was treating you like an object to be sold, instead of as your own person. The whole reason you'd run away from home was to avoid this, but a letter brought to you by your family's personal carrier bird a few weeks ago changed that. As soon as you turned eighteen, if you weren't married or engaged to someone else, you'd be forced into marrying the creep that agreed to this when you were just fifteen. While you broke down in tears out of fear, Zoro told you he'd marry you to keep you from being taken back home. You told him he didn't have to, but he brought up that after your family heard, if they dropped the arranged marriage, you could get an annulment and it would be like this marriage never happened. You'd be free from your family and the creep, still able to travel and live your own life.

So, a week after you turned eighteen, once you reached a small town with a courthouse, you both immediately went there to get this sham of a marriage completed. The clerk looked you both over several times, asking your ages and you lied, claiming you were both twenty-one when she said you'd need parental approval if you were younger than twenty. She didn't ask for proof, instead mumbling something to herself about how it seemed people were getting married younger and younger every year. No more questions about witnesses, parental approval, or identification to prove your ages, the older woman just filled out the paperwork and had you two sign it for processing.

While it was being processed, she sent you to the other side of the room to sit and wait.

"Thank you."

Zoro just shrugged, wishing the old bat would hurry it up so you could find a hotel and get a room so he could go to sleep. "You don't have to keep thanking me."

Nodding, you bit your lip. It was weird to think you'd legally be husband and wife, despite not being in love with each other, but part of you hoped that maybe over time Zoro would come to love you, and you him, so you'd be a few steps ahead of the curve.

The clerk called you both back over a few minutes later, stamping the papers in her hands and pulling a few more. "You're legally married now, congratulations. I've given you an extra copy since you requested it, and here's an annulment form if you've decided you made a mistake. You have six months to fill out and submit it, at any courthouse, otherwise you'll have to get a divorce."

You nodded and thanked the old woman, who told you two to be careful as you both left. You weren't entirely sure why, but if Zoro knew, he kept his mouth shut about it. Once you left, Zoro started looking for a place to stay while you found somewhere you could have dinner. Neither of you planned to stay in this town for more than a night, so you weren't worried about cashing in any bounties that day.

After finding a place to eat, you stayed nearby while you wrote a brief letter to your family and sent it to them, with your marriage certificate, by your family carrier bird. You really just hoped and prayed that they would accept this information and not still demand you return home, whether they wanted to meet Zoro because they believed your letter, or they wanted you to annul the marriage immediately to marry the creep that agreed to it first. Either way, you had no plans to follow their demands or return home.

You and Zoro didn't meet up until it was about dinner time, not a word about your marriage being spoken but your plans to leave the next morning and head to the next town were the main subject. You split off again after dinner, Zoro giving you the second key to your hotel room while he took a walk, in case you wanted to go and shower or go on to bed. You did so, taking a long shower to keep yourself distracted before choosing one of the two beds as yours for the night, laying face down with your face in the pillow. By the time Zoro did return, you were nearly asleep until he woke you when he opened the door.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine…I wasn't sleeping yet."

You weren't sure if it was just you, but things felt awkward with Zoro now. It probably was just you, because he went to bed like nothing was different, telling you that he wanted to leave as soon as possible in the morning. Shells Town was the next destination for the two of you, since a Marine base was there you figured new bounty posters would be available.

You spent the night half awake, unsure of what you were feeling anymore, but you knew one thing.

It was definitely not the kind of wedding day you ever expected to have.

+!+

What do I do, what do I do??

Pacing around the Marine fortress, you didn't know if you should even try to break in and free Zoro or just wait for the month he agreed on with Helmeppo to be up. All of this because he protected a little girl from the brat's dogs and punched him in the face, the spoiled boy using it as an excuse to bring Zoro in like a criminal, and you just weren't sure what you should do. He'd told you not to interfere and when Helmeppo tried to include you in it, you were surprised Zoro threatened him further and said you had no part in the matter.

Stopping, you sighed and crouched, holding your head in your hands and whining. "What do I do…?"

"Hey, you okay??"

The voice above you sounded kind, and you looked up to see a boy with a straw hat and a scarf under his left eye, with another young boy who had pink hair and glasses. Both looked concerned, wondering why you looked like you were fighting a headache outside of the Marine fortress.

"I'm fine…"

"You sure?" The boy in the hat grinned at you, wanting to really make sure you were fine, getting eye level with you while the other boy looked nervously around. "You don't look fine!"

"Luffy!"

You laughed, sighing a bit and standing up, the boy called Luffy following suit. "Yeah, I'm…I'm sure. My friend just…the Marines got him, I'm not sure what to do."

Luffy and the other boy, Koby you learned, both questioned you until you revealed it was Zoro that was your friend, causing Luffy to get excited as he climbed the wall to look into the yard, while Koby was even more nervous than before. He couldn't even believe that you were friends with the notorious pirate hunter Zoro, let alone traveling with him.

"Hey so that's him??"

Koby climbed up with Luffy and nearly fainted, almost falling off the wall when he saw Zoro. You were so focused on the two boys you didn't notice the little girl, Rika, climbing in and over the wall with rice balls in hand. You could hear her offering them to Zoro despite him telling her to scram, before Helmeppo showed up and had her thrown back over the wall, Luffy catching her and surprising you.

"Hey, I'll take her back to her mom's place!"

Luffy nodded and gave Rika to you, letting you run off with her. You got Rika back to her mother's restaurant, making sure she was alright when Luffy and Koby arrived. Luffy told Rika that Zoro actually ate the rice balls Helmeppo ruined, which didn't really surprise you. He had a soft spot for kids, you'd noticed over time, and always tried to help them if he could.

When Helmeppo came back around and started bragging that he was going to have Zoro executed in a few days, Luffy did the same thing and punched him in the face. The three of you ran off, Luffy jumping over the wall to tell Zoro that if he helped him out, he had to join his pirate crew, but Zoro didn't get a chance to fully agree or deny before Luffy ran off to the fortress to find his swords. Koby and you attempted to untie Zoro, but he was arguing against this due to the deal he made with Helmeppo.

"Come on, I only have to last a couple weeks more!"

"He's not gonna let you go! He's gonna have you executed tomorrow!"

"What?!"

Zoro looked at you, wondering if you had heard that or if Koby was lying to him, even though the younger boy had no reason to lie to him.

"I heard every word, that's exactly what he said."

The Marines, including Axe-Hand Morgan, came after the three of you and attempted to fire at you and Koby, but you knew how to use your sword well enough to block them from hitting Koby or you with their bullets.

Luffy returned finally, blocking another set of bullets about to hit the three of you, showing off his rubber powers which actually kind of freaked you out. Zoro, finally having his three swords back, was able to get free and stop the Marines from attacking all of you any further, calling Luffy Captain after agreeing to join his pirate crew. Another shock for you, one that you'd have to deal with later on.

Luffy was the one to beat Morgan, the other Marines all cheering once they realized they were free from the tyrant's reign.

The whole thing made you smile, glad things had worked out, even as Zoro nearly passed out from hunger, making you laugh and shake your head.

"You're so lame sometimes, husband."

+!+

"So why'd you call him husband earlier??"

Face turning red, you looked at Zoro who sat next to you in Luffy's small boat that just barely comfortably held the three of you. Your husband was fast asleep, arms behind his head, but you waved your hand in front of his face to make doubly sure he was asleep, before hearing a light snore come from him.

Scooting across the boat, you sat right next to Luffy who gave you a confused smile.

"Look, Luffy…you can't tell anyone else you recruit."

"Huh?"

You were trying to keep your voice down so Zoro didn't wake, but Luffy acted like he couldn't even hear you.

"Zoro and I are married."

"You're WH–"

You threw your hands over his mouth, looking over to Zoro barely moving, but still fast asleep. You'd quieted Luffy just in time so he didn't wake your swordsman.

"We're married, but it's only because he's helping me with something. We're not in love, we're not a couple. It's…a marriage of convenience okay?"

Luffy nodded, like he understood everything you just told him. He didn't really, but he at least understood you and Zoro weren't in love, just married.

Weird, but he thought he got it.

"Please, don't tell anyone. I'm waiting to hear from my family before we annul the marriage."

That part confused him, but Luffy decided to agree and promised he wouldn't tell anyone, he didn't question you further. He thought you and Zoro were close, he wouldn't have been that surprised if you said you two were in love and together, but if you said you weren't, that this was just a friend helping another friend, he'd believe you.

That, and as soon as his stomach started growling he forgot anything else he wanted to ask.

"Do you have any food, Luffy?"

"Nope!" Luffy grinned and your face paled, looking at Zoro who just snored again and you had a feeling of dread.

"Oh lord what have we done?"

#one piece #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #one piece x reader #last forever

[georgeclarkesgf]

forgetful | george clarke

the minute george stepped into the flat, he knew something was off.

"y/n? you here?" walking further into the flat, he found y/n in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea, "hey, sorry i'm back so late. we missed t-"

"don't. i can't believe you. all i asked was that you not plan to film today and i wake up to a message telling me you've gone to film a video for arthur. do you even know why i asked you to stay home today?"

he was trying to remember, really he was. but his mind was blank and the guilt began to seep in, only just noticing the tears that left stains on her cheeks.

"no. of course you don't. my parents are in town george. i planned a nice lunch, maybe go on a walk, come back to the flat for a few drinks, but all that went to shit because you left to film a stupid video and then ignored my messages all day. you know how important it is to me that you get along with my parents so having to cancel on them last minute because you weren't even here was not something i wanted to have to do." the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall again, hating how needy and pathetic she sounded.

"we can sti-" george tried, again quickly being shut down.

"no george, i'm mad at you. you don't get to say it'll be alright and that we can still do something. we're not playing happy families. you've hurt me. when we sort this out, then we organise something else."

now the guilt was in full swing and he immediately started to think of ways he could make it up to her, knowing it would take a lot of grovelling to get back onto her good side.

"i'm going to bed, i love you." a soft kiss being placed on his lips.

"i love you too." slight relief evident on his face, knowing she'll never not say 'i love you', even during an argument.

she rounded the kitchen island, starting to make her way to his room and get ready for bed. george watched as she closed the door, still stood in the kitchen, contemplating whether to follow her or give her some space.

he decided on the latter.

--------

it was nearing midnight when george decided he needed some sleep, and the dip in the bed as he got comfortable was enough to wake y/n, a groan leaving her lips.

"sorry. i didn't mean to wake you," she let out an agitated hum of acknowledgement and rolled over, curling into george's side, unable to resist the heat his body always provided, "still mad at me?"

"yep." she responded, accentuating the 'p'.

"okay. can we talk about it?"

"i've said my peace. you go."

"i really am sorry sweetheart, i feel awful," her nails were running along the lines and dips of his stomach, a habit he'd grown accustomed to over the several months they'd been together, "the video was planned ages ago and i didn't even realise the dates clashed. when you reminded me of 'that thing' that was happening today i thought you meant filming. i promise to make it up to you. and your parents. please say they don't hate me."

george hoped it was enough, not that he wouldn't do anything she asked to get her to forgive him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her staying mad at him.

in y/n's head, he was forgiven. during her time alone, she realised she didn't even give him a chance to explain before locking herself in his room for the rest of the night.

"i'm sorry too," george was slightly taken aback by this, unsure what she was apologising for, "i shouldn't have stormed off like that. not even letting you speak before i disappeared all night. and my parents don't hate you. we can do dinner tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"that's more than okay. i have my whole day free to spend with you and them. we can do whatever you guys want. i love you."

"i love you. so much. even if you are forgetful."

and george stuck to his promise. safe to say y/n's parents like george more than her.

a/n have this as an 'i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while present' <3

#george clarke #george clarkey #arthurtv #chaoscrew #sidemen #arthur hill #tiktok #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #blurbs #george clarkey imagines #george clarke imagines #blurb #youtube #youtuber imagine #youtuber x reader #youtuber imagines #george clarkey imagine #george clarke imagine

[kangals]

way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.

in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.

last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.

then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!

idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.

and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.

sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.

i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.

thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.

i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.

i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.

thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.

#i know exactly what you mean about reading posts about other peoples loss and grieving in camaraderie with them. i do that too #also mayhaps i am nosy sometimes and want to intrude. i cant help my nature to be a looky-loo #which is to say: you should never feel like you are intruding for doing so back to me.

[thefreakandthehair]

A Steddie fanfiction. Rated E. 84k.

----

April 1986

“How’re you feeling, Ed?” Steve asks quietly, preserving the stillness of the night that surrounds them. 

“Think I’m alright, a little tired.” Eddie watches the gentle waves that ripple out from his shins kicking softly in the water. It’s been a long day, even he has to admit that, and he’s feeling… well, that’s the end of the sentence. He’s feeling. 

It’s the first time Eddie’s been around everyone all at once since the Upside Down and the kids, they mean well and he knows that, surrounded him with so much love that it’d become overwhelming. So had sitting upright, walking around, talking. The last hour or so, he’d gone ghost— transparent without actually disappearing— and the others followed his lead. Pretend you’ve vanished hard enough and the people around will you pretend, too. Except for Steve, he discovers.

It’s an odd thing though, preferring to be still, to be quiet, and he hates that the Upside Down has stolen this piece of himself, too. Steve’s assured him that it’s okay, that he’ll be his boisterous, loud, antsy self again when his body’s healed but it’s taking too long for Eddie’s liking. Or comfort. 

“You know it's normal, right? It’s a lot, Ed. You didn’t even have to stay out here the whole time, no one would’ve minded or blamed you.” Steve sits next to him, letting his feet slide in beside Eddie’s. Everyone else is inside— kids, parents, everyone who’s made the Harrington House their base while waiting for the government pay-outs and new homes. It’s late now, but Steve and Eddie take advantage of the silence as they so often do. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Steve nods and lets his pinky touch the edge of Eddie’s, palm down on the cold, wet concrete. 

“You don’t, you’re right. I didn’t either. For what it’s worth though,” Steve takes a breath, thinks about how he wants to word this without making a confession he’s not yet ready for, “I like every version of you.” 

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest and he watches the ripples from Steve’s legs blend into his. Huh, he thinks, something symbolic there. 

He doesn’t respond, just wraps his pinky around Steve’s. 

Coming soon to ao3: February 1, 6:00PM PST (3:00 PM EST)

Now Posted!

tagging people who've asked or have listened to me ramble on and on for months: @bayouteche @starrystevie @tuvens @rougenancy @ruthofrhythm @toburnup @sparklyslug @justspicysixthings @fruityfour @fruityfourgalore @fastcardotmp3 @flashyysins @stevethehairington @kkpwnall @buckleydiaz @strawberryspence @undreamingscatworld @seidenbros @legitcookie @aringofsalt @patheticgirlsteve @henrystars @sharpbutsoft @nailbatandrobin @harringtonisms @stardustonpages @corrodedcoughin @steddiebf @songbvrd @hexiewrites @courtjestermunson @wroteclassicaly @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @lesstat-de-lioncourt @withacapitalp @newton-pulsifer @quevadilla @strangersatellites @stevesbipanic @wynnyfryd @prettyboyandthemetalhead @gothbat99 @sidekick-hero @stevecarrington @aidaronan @stargyles @bmodiwrites @evergreennwilloww @steves-babysitter @pizzaqueen @ruvina-loz @lallagoupsidedown @phantypurple @counting-dollars-counting-stars @deehellcat @stardustonpages @unclewaynemunson @yournowheregirl @punkharringtxn @babyboyargyle

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #i cannot believe this has a posting date #the art that goes along with it is absolutely STUNNING and i can't wait for you guys to see it!!! #i've been rambling about this to anyone who would listen for months now and i'm just so emotional about it #i quit writing for terrible reasons 7 years ago and now i've written essentially a novel?? #i'm so excited to finally share this and also so so so terrified lmao #(i'd also like to give a little shoutout to dio for talking me out of a spiral like 10 minutes ago about this <333) #myfic #over the hills and far away #if i forgot to tag anyone i'm so sorry

[hamartia-grander]

Starting to slowly realise I'm really not doing well mentally and it's. concerning. I feel like I should take a break from tumblr bc it takes some of what little energy I have but it's also my source of joy with friends so idk what to do, like I'd miss y'all more than I'd feel good about being away. But if you notice me talking less/not responding in days it's bc I just cannot. I leave your message notifs up so I don't forget tho <3

#Personal #Feeling dreadful bc so many friends have shared with me things they wrote that I SO GENUINELY AM EXCITED TO READ #I've just had literally no time nor energy for ANYTHING I enjoy in like a month #And I'm also literally not sleeping. I'm either not sleeping or I have recurring nightmares that wake me up. It's god-awful #Therapy isn't helping either cause atp I already know everything they're advising me about it's just not working #Nothing's changed either which ofc makes me feel worse. No meds changed no habits changed nothing crazy happened #I'm just suddenly worse than I've been in years which is Not Good #I feel awful for not being able to read my friends' things if I could let y'all see my mind you'd know I want to read what you write so bad #I just can't right now. I'm sorry #Not to mention work and school have been especially more demanding recently and I literally get home after 8 every single night #Don't even eat dinner til past 10pm #Doing hw until 3am etc etc #It's like high-school all over again but I'm an adult with more responsibilities than ever

[shima-draws]

Currently in my banging my head against the wall phase. Hope you all are well 🥰

#Doc told me to schedule another MRI on Tuesday. They said they sent the order over on Tuesday. #I call on Tuesday to schedule the appointment. They don't have the referral yet #I called yesterday to try and schedule. They STILL don't have the referral #I message my doc and make sure they actually sent it over to the right place. (They did.) #They say they'll fax it over again! Great! #I call AGAIN today. They STILL don't have the referral #Bro I just need to schedule this fucking MRI so I can find out what's WRONG with me #The girl on the phone was like 'Oh yeah we're real busy we get orders all the time it must not have hit the system yet' #BRO IT'S BEEN THREE DAYS. HOW HAS NOBODY SEEN IT. TEARING my hair out #I went to their website to try and schedule online. Guess what? THEIR GODDAMN SCHEDULING ASSISTANT IS DOWN FOR MAITENANCE #SCREAMS #Anyway yes so in my banging my head against the wall phase. I'm so tired #And still in pain! To nobody's surprise!! #They can't fix what's wrong with me if I can't even get in to get an MRI. Hello. PLEASE #This isn't really smth that can wait a couple weeks #I should've been in to see them like YESTERDAY. #My pain is so bad I had to stay at home today. And I go and ice my back every hour or so #Bc I can't sit down for more than 45 minutes without wanting to kill myself ;)))) #Shima speaks #I'M SORRY I'm just so. I've been over this for months. And now that I'm THIS close to getting answers #I can't. Seem to get these people to schedule an appointment for me #Grinds my teeth

[saminthea]

Is it appendicitis or just fibromyalgia and a stomach bug? Guess we'll see in the morning!

#fuck #nothing like a gradual increase in acute abdomen pain over the course of the week #along with diarrhea and nausea and lack of appetite #tmi #probably #my mom's giving me a ride to the ER in the morning #still have a couple irl friends as mutuals here #not right now because I've yet to throw up and I don’t think I have a fever #probably just not going to sleep so I can be sure I'll be awake when it's time to go #spend the rest of the night by the toilet in case I throw up #she's a nurse so she had me do the test where you put pressure on the pain and then release #at first it didn’t feel any worse #and then #it felt A LOT worse #vent #sorry #I've never had surgery before #and as previously mentioned I have fibro #which is probably going to mean a longer recovery time #did you know fibro can get worse when you have other infections in your body? #I'm currently having the worst flare up I've had in months #and it came out of nowhere #god Im not ready to potentially need surgery #I'm hosting a gala in 2 weeks! #a gala that has been in the works for months! #there might be as many as 40 people there #at least I have MaineCare #so I don’t have to worry about my insurance deciding not to cover it #very deliberatly posting this here and not Facebook #just so I don’t needlessly worry friends and family

[miodiodavinci]

well 😔 after literally 3+ years of masking and double masking with N95s and KN95s and social distancing and not going anywhere where i can't be assured i won't be in close proximity to someone with COVID ya boy got COVID , , , ,

#my lungs feel like absolute shit man ; ; #it's like a footballer rammed straight into my back and stood on top of my crumpled body for good measure ; ; #all because my brother still hangs out at movies and restaurants with his friends . . . . . . . . #and stupidly i was so excited to see him back after a month of being away #so we sat and watched a movie together on tuesday #and then wednesday he was like 'oh shit turns out i have covid sorry' #ogughgh . . . . . . #apparently he was feeling bad even on tuesday but he has such a history with head colds that COVID didn't even show up on our radar . . . . #i'm paying for it now though hhh ; ; #hindsight 20/20 and all that #can't stop coughing and i'm running a low grade fever #but most of all JESUS my chest hurts so much ; ; ; ; ; #it's like the agony of an asthma attack only so much more focus on the pain than the inability to breathe #i'm lucky that at most it just feels like there are rubber bands around my chest when i try to breathe deeply #but god #i'm supposed to start my internship through my college next week #this. might literally fuck me over in so many ways but hopefully my mentors will be accommodating . . . . . #in any event uhgghghgh i'm just frustrated because i've been so so careful for years and years . . . i never stopped masking . . . . . #i got the vaccine and all the boosters and yet . . . . . . . .

[arklay]

WIP DAY.

tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡

tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡

i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.

started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]

it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo

never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.

everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk

i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe

actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not

Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more. He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.

#tag games. #keep going to do picrews and just zoning out 😭 i'm so behind on literally everything but it's fine it's okay (lying) #i'm having a day and a half even though i woke up feeling okay but oh well. my last month has just been like watching videos during the day #or playing games when i have a bit more energy but like i can't do anything that requires me to actually read or write things like words #are just not computing in my brain at the moment but it's okay like i'm just exhausted and hoping soon i can get back to writing because i #still have over 30 wips going lmao but yeah it's been a time a half with lots of appointments and seeing specialists again and trying to #sort things out. i've been more active on twitter which i've mentioned before but it's just because like it's easier for me to sort of just #like and rt things and not having to do my organisation tags and things like i know that sounds so just small and simple but that's how #i've been lately like to my brain rn that seems like a really big task. so i just keep coming on here randomly for a few minutes then #disappearing so i'm sorry that i've definitely missed so much and i haven't been around to just show my appreciation and love to your #creations!! also just everything that happened in december and then a bit at the start of january too like i'm just a lil paranoid about #being on here honestly so i'm trying to get back to it and be okay with posting again and i'm going to make a promise to myself to actually #filter more tags i think? just to help me with like not exposing myself to things that do make me feel uncomfortable in any way!! i'm #rambling now but sorry sometimes i just need to lmaooo idk but yes so cute lil subtle things from my carrd i wanna talk about cause why not #i didn't have to change the blue herb from re0 besides making it brighter because it's already teal toned which is so sexy but i shifted #the hue on the spade key like SLIGHTLY like it was so little. but anyways. i use this emoji ✨ on my twitter name and yes cause sparkles but #also. three stars. the s.t.a.r.s. badge and logo :] then blue herb because i will have no poison in my safe space!!!! take a blue herb or #leave please!! only good vibes and safe space here!! spade key because i'm ace <3 i was going to include the diamond one in there as well #because am demiro and like those are the symbols in the community. ace of spades for ace. diamond for demis (both orientations) #but wasn't sure how to weave the pink through the rest of the carrd even though cyan and pink together is so pretty omg

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

the eternal question: is scheduling w friends as an adult That Hard or am I just bad at it

#4 different people have left me on read today; 1 cancelled our plans 4 hours before we were due to meet #I've been sitting home alone for 2 days going insane. looking forward to One (1) coffee date & that fell through #idk why I'm taking it so hard this time I'm usually fine!! but I find myself wishing I didn't have the day off I wish I did have work :( #like it's tiring yeah but it beats sitting here not knowing what to do w myself #& I'm working all weekend & only leaving the house to see the doctor. oh joy #I've been productive ironing writing fixing the car. that's not the problem #I had 4 social plans this month. that's it #that's like seeing each friend once a month!! I can't keep this up!! #is this the norm for adulthood? :( #& on one level I don't want to bother people or be clingy #but on another level I'm baffled that they don't get lonely too #the news has not shut up abt the Loneliness Epidemic since 2021 #but if it's true why do so many people take so long to reply when I reach out? if they reply at all #I'm not going anywhere w this. idk #just one of those days #everything so fuck everybody suck :( #boomers got it right w the whole showing up unannounced at people's houses for a social call with a pound cake #now I have to go through 5 layers of bureaucratic bullshit to see a friend #assuming they don't cancel the day of ofc (((((: #I just wanna be like hello knock knock I am here. tell me abt yr life today & listen to mine & eat this cake #& the worst is when people are like 'I'm cancelling bc I'm tired xx' #OK A) u knew we had these plans for two weeks #but B) I'm tired too! I still love u ur still my friend! let us be tired together! #'I won't be social today I'm tired' my love we could watch movies in silence we could knit we could ball yr socks. idc #'I have to do the big shop today sorry' so do I!!! let us do the groceries together!!! #every time I've pushed someone to come out when they felt depressed or to let me accompany them when they were doing chores #they were like u know what I'm so glad u did this. thank u. this is way better than how I had planned this night to go #& I'm like any time!! I love u!! #& then it just happens all over again next time oh sorry I'm cancelling I'm busy I'm tired #like did u forget what a nice time we had last time? what changed? :(

[cherrygorilla]

The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window. 

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat. 

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly. 

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?" 

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention. 

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?" 

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail. 

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption. 

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that." 

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more. 

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother. 

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…" 

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?" 

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone. 

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool. 

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk. 

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air. 

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?" 

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether. 

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway. 

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring." 

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Danielle and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink. 

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that. 

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend. 

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily." 

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was. 

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas." 

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp. 

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really. 

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't- 

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it. 

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further. 

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body. 

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did. 

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!" 

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short. 

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs. 

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area. 

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser. 

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August. 

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk. 

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning." 

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him. 

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant. 

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench. 

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet. 

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals." 

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it. 

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one. 

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him." 

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle. 

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from. 

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack. 

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?" 

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?” 

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand. 

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there. 

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time. 

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her. 

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer. 

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk. 

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page. 

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile. 

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!" 

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble. 

"Why don't you just play with us then?" 

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun." 

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?" 

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know. 

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance. 

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!" 

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played. 

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?" 

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?" 

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?" 

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit. 

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts." 

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows. 

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders. 

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe. 

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour. 

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation. 

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation. 

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned. 

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now. 

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother. 

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again. 

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult." 

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk. 

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is. 

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound. 

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet. 

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?” 

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat. 

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore." 

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest. 

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat. 

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind? 

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her." 

"Not by choice," Miles huffed. 

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?” 

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?” 

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.” 

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out. 

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified. 

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!" 

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls. 

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall." 

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world. 

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked. 

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?" 

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed. 

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him. 

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile. 

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset. 

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3." 

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed. 

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?” 

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh. 

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own. 

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart." 

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?" 

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?" 

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering. 

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again. 

Ok, now Carrie was really confused. 

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was. 

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message. 

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet." 

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his- 

Wait, why was she turning back around? 

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.  

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered. 

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck. 

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains. 

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence. 

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?" 

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod. 

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin. 

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. 

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now. 

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought. 

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear. 

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it. 

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?" 

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed. 

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all. 

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again. 

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.  

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff." 

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying. 

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation. 

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute." 

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle. 

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever. 

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery. 

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?" 

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense. 

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally. 

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify. 

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two." 

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin. 

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition. 

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses. 

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times. 

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong. 

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised. 

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?" 

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again. 

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat. 

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air. 

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention." 

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!" 

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one. 

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried. 

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again. 

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?" 

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises. 

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern. 

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed. 

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-" 

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat. 

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped. 

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition. 

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point. 

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw. 

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?" 

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend." 

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own. 

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test. 

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?" 

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.  

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though. 

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright. 

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again. 

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?” 

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?” 

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement. 

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed. 

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own. 

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick. 

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity. 

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief. 

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

#I know this part may seem a little boring because there's so much talking and so little 'doing' #but i promise that these conversations are all setting important foundations for stuff further down the line #you'll just have to trust me for now though #plus a lot of *interesting* dynamics are established in this part #*wink wink* #and get excited because in the next part we're heading back to All Skate #and the *real* action's finally going to start kicking off... #also I'm super sorry about being so inconsistent with my posts #finding time to write over the past few months with my crazy schedule and pretty poor mental health has been virtually impossible #but I really want to be better about that by the time I go back to uni in september #so hopefully I can find more time for myself and get some real progress made on this story and ASDO #anyway i've rambled too much #i'll let you go but I hope you enjoyed the chapter #and i hope it was a nice surprise after all the chaos you've been going through lately <3 #p.s. i know the order of things gets a bit weird at the end but I didn't know how else to write it without it sounding super choppy #basically eric bumps into miles before he goes over to greet her after class #his whole chat with miles is happening whilst carrie's having her little heart to heart with juliet #just thought i'd mention it because I wasn't sure how clear it was and my 2am brain is not a trustworthy resource