#maybe I could but I want to graduate in January and I still have to start writing this thing

[elyxir1zz]

★ — Between the lines - sober part 1

CW : meanie sevika, artist reader, hockey player vi and sevika, modern au, highschool shenanigans, fluff?

A/N : i felt the diffrence between part one and part 2 of between the lines was a little odd, so i went back and made part one enjoyable

Summary : star hocky player sevika has to take an art glass in order to graduate from highschool, fate assigns her to the same class as you and her rival

Sevika hated this. She was on the cusp of graduation, the last semester of her senior year of high school. Things were supposed to go smoothly from here. She had a hockey scholarship to college, the promise of leaving this place for something bigger and better. The first day back after Christmas break, she had a meeting with her counselor to talk about her future. She had walked into that office on her high horse, confident and smug, until the bomb had been dropped by the counselor.

"Sevika, you haven't taken any art classes at all."

Her eyes went wide, and the panic seeped into her usually steady voice. "What? Of course, I have. I mean, my freshman year, maybe? Probably?" She sat straight, reasoning.

The counselor's face was calm but firm. "It's okay. We can fix this. You can take an art class this semester, and as long as you pass, you'll be good to graduate."

Sevika forced a smile. It's art. Easy peasy. She could do that. It's just a bunch of wusses coloring, right?

Meanwhile, you sat in your car, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the cold January air. You rubbed your hands together and sighed, bracing yourself. Junior year wasn't easy, but art class was your sanctuary. You'd known since the sixth grade that art was your calling. Anytime your schedule had an open spot, you filled it with an art class, no matter how repetitive it got.

The chatter of the hallways hit you like a wave, slapping you in the face the moment you stepped inside. You groaned, instinctively pressing your hands over your ears. These halls were full of loud, obnoxious assholes that made you want to turn right back out into the cold. But you didn't. You'd made it this far already.

As you approached your locker, you immediately noticed the problem. Two people were making out in front of it, effectively blocking your way. You stopped, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

"Um, excuse me?" you said softly, hoping they'd move.

The taller one barely glanced at you, still holding the other girl close. "Sorry, babe, I'm busy," she said dismissively.

You recognized her instantly. Sevika. The school's star hockey player and notorious troublemaker.

You bit your jaw in annoyance, but you weren't going to back down. Everyone else might have walked away to avoid her wrath, but you weren't like everyone else. "Dude, move," you said louder this time and stood your ground.

Before Sevika could say anything in response, another voice cut in. "Hey! Move it.

All three of you turned to look. Violet, another hockey player and Sevika's arch-nemesis, was striding toward you. Her arms were crossed, her expression daring Sevika to push back.

Sevika's lips curled into a sneer, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she threw her arm around the girl's shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Don't make me ask again," Vi said, her tone laced with warning.

Sevika clicked her tongue in irritation but moved aside. "Come on," she said to the girl, turning away without another word.

You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Vi. "Thanks, Vi," you said, opening your locker.

"No problem," she returned casually, leaning against the locker next to yours. Then, her face turned into a mischievous one. "Guess what?"

"What?" you asked, digging through your locker.

She handed you a piece of paper. You looked at it curiously. "What's this?"

"My schedule," she replied with a smirk.

Your eyes ran down the paper until they stopped at one thing that caused you to freeze. "We have fifth-period art together?"

Vi smirked. "Yup. Makes your favorite class even better, doesn't it? You know, 'cause I'm there.

You cocked an eyebrow, pretending to consider. "Actually, it might put a dull on it," you teased, hardly containing your grin.

Vi chuckled. "Deny it all you want, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. "Bye, Violet," you said, shutting your locker and heading toward your first class.

Vi watched you leave, her smirk melting into a more sincere curve. She couldn't help it; that bubbling feeling in her chest was there every time she spoke with him. He was just so good-looking and smart and talented. She shook her head as if to snap out of it, but the feeling clung on.

"Pow!" A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Vi turned to see her sister, Jinx, standing with that mischievous grin.

“Oh,” Vi said, caught off guard. “Hey, Jinx.”

Jinx crossed her arms, her grin widening. “You’re so mindlessly in love with her, it’s sad.”

“Ha ha,” Vi said dryly, starting to walk toward her class. Jinx fell into step beside her.

“I’m serious,” Jinx said bluntly, earning an eye-roll from her sister.

Meanwhile, Sevika tried to get back into her groove with the girl she'd been making out with, but something was off. The usual excitement just wasn't there.

"Sevika?" the girl asked, leaning her head up toward her. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Sevika said, pulling back. "I, uh, need to go. My hockey scholarship doesn't allow me to be late."

The girl pouted, tugging at her to try and pull her back. "Are you sure? We could just…"

"I gotta go," Sevika said firmly, already walking away.

As she walked away, your face kept flashing before her mind's eye. You were so annoying: always standing up to her, always so confident. And yet, she couldn't get you out of her head. It was infuriating. You were such a waste of a pretty face. Not that she'd ever say that to you. No way. And worse, you seemed to have some weird effect on her that she couldn't shake.

Foolish, she chided herself, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets. But the more she tried to ignore it, the more persistent the thought of you became.

—

You sigh, doodling on your paper with your head resting in your hand. The bell brings you out of your thoughts. You blink, starting to pack up.

"Remember your welcome back essay is due on Friday!" the teacher yelled.

Everyone groans, including you. You hate writing; just when you start to write your mind goes all mushy. Sighing, you throw your bag over your shoulder and take off for the last class of the day-the class you absolutely love: Art.

Your face flushes with the thought of how Vi must have gone out of her way to spend time with you. Of course, you liked her, she was so funny and strong, and there was something magnetic about her energy that you just couldn't help but feel drawn to.

You enter the art room and notice you are one of the first people to arrive. You pull out your pocket sketchbook and flip through its pages of old doodles while thinking of something new to draw. Letting out another sigh, you gaze off into space until you hear your name being called.

It's Mr. Wilson, that teacher you love, and he's been running this art department as long as you can remember. He always had this infectious passion for art. "Glad you're taking this class again," he says with a warm smile.

"Good to see you too," you say softly, looking up at him.

"I need to talk to you after class," he says in a rush. Noting the look of confusion on your face, he hastens to add, "Don't worry, you're not in trouble."

Not waiting for your response, he dives into a boisterous retelling of his disastrous ski trip with his husband over winter break. You nod along, though you've started zoning out by the time Vi strolls in.

She zeroes in on you in an instant, the smile spreading across her face as she heads toward your table. Sliding into the seat next to you, she leans in playfully.

The room fills up quickly and the final bell rings; Mr. Wilson begins to go over the syllabus. You tune most of it out, since you've taken this class more times than you can count. Instead, you look around the room: there's a few people you recognize, a few people you don't, and-

Your eyes narrow as they lock on a familiar figure, standing in the corner: Sevika.

You look away quickly, sitting up straighter, attempting to focus on Mr. Wilson. Maybe if you pretend she's not there, she'll stay out of your orbit.

"There's a student you all should know," Mr. Wilson says suddenly, catching you off guard.

Your stomach drops as he says your name out loud. "She has taken this class at least three times and passed with flying colors each time. She's who you should look up to."

Your cheeks flare red hot as the attention of the room shifts to you. You glance down toward your desk, trying not to meet their gaze. You notice in the corner of your eye that Vi is smirking at your embarrassment.

Sevika looks annoyed. Her eyes remain on you, and you can almost hear her thinking. Why is she here?

"Sevika!" Mr. Wilson's voice startles her out of her trance.

"Uh—yes?" she says, straightening up.

"I think you'd benefit from sitting next to one of my more experienced students." He motions to the empty seat on your other side.

Sevika groans loudly, the scuffling of her feet carrying her to the seat beside you.

"Goddamnit," you mutter under your breath, your head sinking lower.

Vi's face sours at the sight of Sevika getting settled in. Her jaw clenches and her fists ball a little. "Great," she says in a false tone, loud enough for Sevika to hear.

"Oh?" Sevika returns, twisting towards Vi with an arched eyebrow.

You, sandwiched between the two, can feel the tension radiating off them. They exchange glares, and you bury your head in your hands, wishing you were anywhere else.

The room goes silent as the teacher clears his throat. "Anyway, for the first project of the semester, we'll be doing a watercolor landscape."

Sevika snorts. "Too easy," she mutters under her breath.

Vi leans over to you. "Is this hard?"

You hesitate. "I mean, when I did it for the first time, it wasn't. But…it's different for everyone," you whisper back.

"It's watercolor," Sevika interjects. "We did this in grade school."

Vi's voice is venomous. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

"Don't," you whisper urgently, hoping to head off an explosion before it gets out of hand.

Sevika smirks, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah, listen to your bitch.

Before you can even register what's happening, Vi's already risen. She punches Sevika, who slams to the floor. Chaos breaks out in the room as they both wrestle on the ground, punching at each other.

"Okay! Okay!" Mr. Wilson screams, running up and pulling them off each other.

The fight ends with a black eye given to Vi and a bleeding nose on Sevika. "The three of you-to the office!"

You numb, your heart shocked. "Wh-what?" Your voice quavers.

"I said go," Mr. Wilson says firmly.

Now in the principal's office you're wedged once again between Vi and Sevika. Vi has an ice pack pressed to her eye, and Sevika keeps dabbing her nose with a tissue.

This is unacceptable!" the principal yells, pacing back and forth. "I don't know what to do with you two. I- I mean, I give you detention, and then I put you in the same class?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"See, that was your first mistake. Putting this ogre in the same class as me," Vi snaps, leaning forward.

"Ogre?! I'll show you ogre," Sevika growls, leaning toward Vi.

"Enough!" the principal yells, silencing them both “im putting you both in after school detention for the rest of the week.”

Turning to you, he sighs. "You—one day of after-school detention."

Your eyes widen as panic sets in. "Oh my god—I've never been in trouble before!" you stammer, your breaths quickening.

"Calm down, prissy," Sevika mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Out of my office. All of you. Go straight to detention. No goofing off," the principal orders, waving you away.

"I can't believe I'm in detention because of you!" you yell at Sevika as the three of you walk down the hall.

"Because of me?! Why don't you blame your girlfriend? She's the one who attacked me!" Sevika fires back, glancing down at you.

"She's not my girlfriend!" you shout, your voice echoing slightly.

Vi's steps falter for a moment. She looks away, her expression tightening as a pang of hurt flickers across her face.

You look around for a second, taking another path. "Where are you going? Detention is this way," Vi asks, her voice unsure.

Sevika doesn't care; she just rolls her eyes and keeps going.

"I'm going to see if I can work on my art project during detention. I'll meet you there," you mutter, heading in the opposite direction.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, pushing the door to the art room open. The anger on your face is impossible to hide.

"Mr. Wilson," you say, your voice clipped.

He looks up from his desk and smiles, completely oblivious. "How'd it go?

You narrow your eyes. "I have detention," you hiss, crossing your arms.

"How long? A week?" he asks with a completely casual note, not looking up from his paper.

"One day."

At this he does glance at you finally. "Just a day? That is not bad at all!"

"Do you understand that it can go on my permanent record? Mess up my chances of ever going to college?" you snap, taking one step closer toward his desk.

“A day of detention? You'll be fine," he says dismissively, his focus shifting back to his work.

"Whatever." You rub your forehead in frustration. "Can I at least work on my project in detention?"

"An artistic delinquent?" he smirks, grabbing a thick sheet of paper and handing it to you. "How poetic."

"Don't start," you mutter, snatching the paper and turning to leave.

"Don't get into trouble!" he calls after you.

"Ha ha," you mutter under your breath, hurrying back toward detention.

The monitor at the detention room barely looks up as you step inside. "You're late."

"I know—I'm sorry—"

"I don't care. Sit down."

You scan the room. Sevika is slouched in a corner seat, and Vi has situated herself as far away from her as possible. You walk over to Vi and sit down beside her.

“You're here for the next hour, and I hope you reflect on your actions," the monitor drones before plopping down at his desk. Almost immediately, he rests his head on his folded arms.

"Is he sleeping?" you whisper, leaning toward Vi.

"Shh." Vi raises a finger to your lips. "Give it a minute," she whispers back.

Sure enough, in a few minutes, soft snores fill the room. You look sideways at Vi and raise an eyebrow.

"I know," she says, with a roll of her eyes.

You pull your pencil bag out and begin drawing your watercolor landscape. "I'm mad at you," you say quietly.

"Why?" Vi's voice softens with concern.

You give her a pointed glance, and the words catch in her throat.

“I'm sorry. No one should talk about you like that," she mutters after a moment, looking at you.

"I can fight my own battles," you reply, leaning forward slightly.

"It seemed like you were just going to let her say that about you," Vi argues, her gaze flickering toward Sevika for a moment.

Meanwhile, Sevika's leaned back in her chair, face hidden behind a book as if napping. She's actually listening in on your conversation. She hadn't intended the comment to insult you-it was meant to get a rise out of Vi-but a twinge of guilt starts to settle into her chest. Not that she'd ever say that out loud.

Eventually, she actually falls asleep, and before she knows it, the hour's up.

sevika stirs awake, and she stood up, rubbing her eyes, to grab her bag. As she adjusts the strap, her gaze falls to your sketch. It's beautiful, bursting with intricate detail and care.

You quickly slide it into your bag as the others begin to leave.

"You need a ride?" you ask Vi, looking over at her.

Vi just shakes her head. "I gotta run a couple of errands. I can just take the bus." She gives a warm smile, leaning in and briefly cupping your cheek. "You're such a sweetheart." And with that, she hastens off, trying to catch the next city bus, leaving you well and truly alone with Sevika.

"She likes you," Sevika says as the silence is finally broken and she draws closer to you.

You say nothing, instead tucking things away into your bag.

Sevika steps closer, standing behind you. "Listen," she starts, hesitating. "That comment earlier…" She exhales sharply, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to drag you into my fight with Vi."

You glance at her, surprised, your gaze softening as her words sink in.

"If anyone gives you trouble," she goes on, much more confident now, "come to me. Not your pipsqueak of a girlfriend.

You open your mouth to protest, "She's not—" but Sevika cuts you off, walking out of the room before you can finish.

You stand there for a moment, stunned.

Did she just…apologize?

[servuscallidus]

I might actually find enough articles to write a systematic review instead of a tesi compilativa??

[redpill-tfs]

Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[in-jail-out-soon7]

Happy New Year!

After the New Years' festival, you and Mikey talk about the future.

Manjiro Sano x GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint & Reader mentions having a kid

A/N: I wish you all the best 2024! January is definitely gonna be a hard month for me mentally, but now that I have my writing to look forward to I know it's gonna be alright. Enjoy Lovelies❤

You lay down in the grass while Mikey kills the engine of his bike behind you. Flipping open your phone you gaze lazily at the bright light, trying to adjust to the screen at least enough to see the time.

1:04 A.M. January 1st, 2006.

You close your phone with a click and shove it into the top of your kimono. The New Year's festival had ended an hour ago. Everyone had gone home, Draken offering to take Emma home, so Mikey could drive around with you. Emma happily agreed.

Rubbing your eyes, Mikey slumps down in the grass next to you with a thud. You roll onto your side to face him.

He lays on his back staring at the star dotted sky. He rubs his hands together. "Shit."

Raising an eyebrow you prop your chin in your hand, pushing yourself off the ground with your elbow. "What's up?"

"It's cold." He pulls his own kimono up slightly to cover his exposed collarbone.

"Oh." You chuckle. "I told you. We should've went home."

Mikey shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't say anything else. You sigh and drop your elbow, folding your arms on the grass to rest you face against.

It's quiet for a few moments. Just you staring at Mikey as he stares at the sky. Picking at a blade of grass you finally break the silence.

"What do you think this years going to be like?" You ask.

Mikey hums and thinks for a moment. He shrugs. "Probably the same as every other year." He turns onto his side to face you. "There's not really a lot we can do right now. As kids. Maybe the year after us and the gang graduate, there'll be more things to do."

"Wait," you sit up quickly. Mikey gazes up at you, confused. "You were planning on finishing school?" You tease in an overdramatic and sarcastic tone.

Mikey rolls his eyes and pushes you back down by your shoulder. "Shut up, (Y/N)."

You chuckle. Even though he wasn't wrong, it still felt weird to refer to yourself as kids. After everything that's happened in the past year, all the fights and deaths, you forgot that you, Mikey and the whole gang were still just kids.

A small sigh falls from Mikey's lips as you settle back into place. As you two sit there in comfortable silence, you begin to feel your eyelids growing heavy.

Lacing your fingers through his you begin playing with his finger tips, tracing along each detail of his calloused hand. "How about in twelve years or something then?" You blurt out suddenly.

Your voice was drowsy and soft as you fought the urge to fall asleep. Mikey chuckled. "Don't know. Like jobs?"

You shrug.

"Maybe like a mechanic or a motorcycle racer- I don't know?" He says. "I think it's easier to think about other people's futures."

You raise a brow and glance at him through your lashes. "What do you mean?"

"Like Takemitchy and Hinata," he starts. "They're gonna get married, Kenny and Emma too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Kenny and Emma are gonna have a kid too, they're gonna name it Manjiro Jr." He says jokingly.

You scoff. "They are not." Surprisingly, Mikey doesn't argue back, letting the silence take over again. The wind howls and you shudder against the cold. A yawn escapes you before speaking up again. "Is that something you want?"

Mikey raises an eyebrow. "Is what?"

Suddenly nervous you drop his hand and your gaze to the grass. Picking at the earth you swallow, your face growing hot. "A kid."

He doesn't respond and you can't tell what he's thinking, too distracted by your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Obviously not now- y'know!"

Mikey chuckles nervously and sucks in a breath. "I would hope not." He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, pushing your face into his chest. "How about we just worry about this year?"

You nod against him. "Okay."

And then once again it was silent. The wind brushed against you two but you found warmth in each other's bodies. You take a long blink, your eyelids drooping lazily.

"Oh.. hey," you start before yawning. "We didn't have our New Year's kiss yet."

Mikey hums. At first it didn't seem like he was going to do or say anything, but before you could follow up your observation he brings a cold hand to your face, cupping your cheek before leaning in and placing his lips against yours. His lips were chapped from the cold and you could still taste whatever candy he had been eating at the festival. Somewhere in the distance fireworks boomed and crackled.

When you pull away you roll away and flop onto your back with a satisfied sigh. Allowing your eyes to flutter shut. You hear the movement of Mikey as he scoots closer to you.

"You can go to sleep," a hand brushes against your face and you shiver.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Four

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Almost-car accident? Talk of getting smushed by a car.

Notes: Finally, a little something-something! I’m trying to post on the weekends to have some sort of schedule, but I have zero impulse control… so here it is a day early!

Word Count: 2146

Series Masterlist

• January 25th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Jasper

Not only am I lucky enough to spend lunch with Y/n, but some godly force must be watching out for me in that today’s history assignment allowed me to team up with her and learn more about her.

Her energy is absolutely fascinating and it almost worries me that I’m internally compelled to want to spend even more time in her presence. Two days and I’m already a goner, Emmett is going to have a field day interrogating me tonight.

Which leads me to now, after completing our history assignment with only a few minutes to spare, I’m escorting her to her car in an effort to prolong this addiction to her attention.

“Where are you from?” I ask, curious to know anything about her.

“Texas. Well, Dallas more specifically.” She’s still watching the ground as we walk, nervousness pouring from her.

“Why Forks? You couldn’t of picked a more completely opposite environment.” I miss my home state, and if it weren’t for my adversion to the sun - I would return.

“My parents divorced.” She continues before I could apologize for the intrusive question, “Happily divorced and I protested the whole ‘stay together until she graduates’ bullshit.” Fingers gesturing around the air quotations.

She trails off after that, circling back to our history assignment that no doubt has her still worked up. The Civil War, I cringe internally at today's topic since it’s a sore one for myself - having lived through it and fought in it.

“All I’m saying is, maybe history class should be more focused on the lessons learned, than just the events themselves.” She states rather passionately while inserting the key into the lock on the driver’s door of her car.

“To recognize and avoid in the future.” I respond, leaning my back against the rear of the small vehicle as I scan the wet parking lot packed with kids.

“Exactly!” She pops her head up, an excited smile in place as she garners my gaze again.

But just over her shoulder my eyes flick up to catch the sight of a blue van headed our direction a little too quickly for such a busy spot. A car horn blaring has her turning in its direction and the gasp I hear across the parking lot from Alice sends me into action. I grab Y/n by the waist and spin her against her car, so that my back might take the brunt of the hit, but it never comes as the rear of the van just barely slides past us. I relax the grip I have on her and tear my eyes from hers as I spin my head in the direction of the vehicle, ready to yell at the driver for being so reckless. The words die in my throat as I see where it’s headed - straight for Isabella Swan.

“Bella!” Y/n screams, but it’s lost in the screech of tires and the headphones in her ears that are keeping the outside world out.

Just as I’m about to damn us all to save another girl from this idiot driver, Edward flashes past to stop the van from crushing the Sheriff’s daughter.

“Fuck.” I whisper, glancing back to where my other adopted siblings are standing next to their own vehicles - faces unreadable, but emotions blaring alarm.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please be safe getting home?” I ask her urgently as I peel my fingers from where they want to stay gripping her, safe and close to me.

“But Jas-“ she starts, a little shell shocked at my quick action of saving her and the close call with her friend.

A whistle from Emmett interrupts her before she can interrogate me, so I flash her an apologetic smile before jogging at a normal human pace to the familiar silver Jeep. My hands flex in my lap the entire tense ride home, warm and tingly from when I gripped Y/n to protect her fragile little human body.

If we weren’t vampires already, this family meeting about to take place would definitely give Carlisle a full head of gray hair.

• January 26th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Hey, mind catching me up on what that was yesterday?” I immediately bombard Jasper as I sit across from him at what I’ve mentally deemed ‘our table’ at lunch.

He glances up from his sketchbook with a look that says he wasn’t prepared for my blunt line of questioning.

“The saving you from certain death part, or?” He leaves open ended for me to clarify.

“The part where Bella was alone next to her truck, but your brother teleported to her side AND somehow the van skidded to a stop right before turning them both into pancakes?” I’m not pulling my punches with my queries, after having spent last night stewing over what I had seen.

“He wasn’t that far from her when I moved you out of the way, I must’ve distracted you enough that you didn’t see him walking to her after he got out of class. Plus, the van wasn’t going that fast, maybe when it hit the back of her truck the tires got traction and he could brake properly.” He answers, turning his gaze back to his sketch and resuming his work.

I don’t really buy it, but I mull over my recount of yesterday afternoon as I pull my lunch from my bag. Was I so focused on Jasper the moment he put his hands on me? Was I so soda-strawed in on Bella being in the way of the van that I missed Edward?

No, something isn’t adding up. I know that van was hauling ass in the parking lot, I was going to yell as much at the idiot driving before I saw it headed for Bella. But I can also tell I won’t be getting the answers I want from Jasper. I can tell from the rigidity of his spine that he’s worried I’ll ask more questions. I mean, his recount of the accident isn’t out-landish, but I know what I saw!

I need to talk to Bella.

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.” I acquiesce. I see him deflate a little with relief as I pick at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Thank you for saving me, by the way.” I add nervously, a little heat working it’s way onto my cheeks.

Jasper glances up to my face and with a small smile, “Anytime Y/l/n, anytime.”

• January 27th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Bella!” I yell down the hallway, catching her as she slams her locker shut. I jog over to her as she turns towards the exit, everyone that has Mr. Banner for Biology is going on a field trip today.

“Hey Y/n, what’s up?” She questions, seeing the look on my face.

“Tuesday, parking lot, what the hell happened?” I jump right into it.

“Tyler must’ve lost traction-“

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Edward was nowhere near you.” Cutting off her redirection. “Jasper won’t budge, he insists I was distracted and didn’t see his brother before the accident.”

Bella glances around the hallway and decides to pull me into the empty female bathroom for some privacy.

“Edward is avoiding me, I was asking him the same questions when I was at the hospital and he refused to answer.” She answers nervously.

“It’s weird, right? I mean, one second I’m unlocking the door to my car, and the next Jasper spins me around to protect my body with his. And then I see Edward jump over the tailgate of your truck when I thought Tyler’s van was going to end you.” I’m just rambling the thoughts that have been pinging around the last two days.

I can see her hesitate, “You can talk to me, you know? I kinda don’t have any friends besides you, I mean - if you want to be friends?” I tack on the last part, worried I’d over stepped.

“Yeah no, of course - I um, I could use a friend to vent to.” Bella glances down at her shoes, picking at the sleeves of her sweater as the both of us exit the bathroom. “He’s coming on today’s class trip, I’ll talk to him then and see what I can find out.”

“Perfect, want to sit with me on the bus?” I ask, walking out of the building for the student parking lot where the buses are waiting.

“As if I’d risk getting stuck sitting with Mike Newton, absolutely.” She jokes back. “I’m going to grab my book from my truck, I’ll be there in a sec - save us a seat!” She yells as she jogs to her vehicle across the parking lot.

As I board the first bus I can hear Mr Banner yell at everyone loitering in the parking lot, “Yo yo yo, hey guys c’mon! We gotta go, we gotta go! Green is what? Good, let’s go!”

A few moments later Bella joins me in our claimed seat, book in hand looking a little frazzled. I see Mike pass us with a forlorn expression on his face, “Oh God, what happened?” I ask.

“He asked me to prom and I told him to ask Jessica, please don’t make me talk about it.” She answers with what I assume is a shiver of discomfort.

I want to laugh, but I just grin instead. “Your not-so-secret admirer fumble is safe with me, Bells.” I knock my shoulder into hers to tease her a little as I crack open my own book I brought for the bus ride.

• Community College Greenhouse •

Reader

Walking alone in line through the greenhouse, my hands drift over the different sprouting vegetables. Behind me I can hear Mr. Banner giving a spiel on “compost tea” and how its derived from table scraps and other organic waste. Every now and then my fingers float over the soft petals of flowers placed sporadically through the hundreds of food-producing plants; earlier it was explained that they encourage pollinators to visit.

Even though I’m a smidge lonely since Bella is hanging back with Edward, I’m glad to be surrounded by greenery instead of stuck in a stuffy classroom.

Just as Tyler Crowley pushes past with a clear mug of what looks like poop/dirt water, I spot Alice just ahead standing to the side of the isle with Jasper to allow students to flow by. When I get within arms reach, Alice loops her elbow through mine, almost like she could sense my loneliness.

“So,” she drags out the word cheerfully, “Enjoying the plants? Fresh air? Freedom from school?”

“Oh absolutely,” I glance over my shoulder at Jasper following behind us silently. “I’m surprised you’re not off in a corner doodling flowers, Hale.” I catch him duck his head and chuckle under his breath as Alice watches our interaction, surprised.

“And isolate myself away from your commentary? Never, Y/l/n.”

“Oh, Emmett’s opinions on your drawings are too much, but mine aren’t?” I smile as I turn to look at new plants as we pass them in our slow walk through the final greenhouse.

“My brother isn’t nearly as interesting.” His response catches me off guard and if it weren’t for Alice’s grip on my arm I would’ve stumbled on the wet concrete.

“As I live and breathe, Jasper Hale flirting-“ but Alice doesn’t finish her sentence due to Jasper snaking out a pinch to her ribs, her flinch forcing our hold to separate. Before I could chide Alice for teasing her brother for just being nice, Edward storms up to the three of us.

“Ready to leave?” He glances between his siblings, pointedly ignoring me so that I wouldn’t feel the obligation to join them.

“Edward-“ Alice says disapprovingly, but he pushes past us without waiting for an answer. She looks at me apologetically before skipping after him.

“Sorry about my brother, he’s insufferable when he’s in a mood.” Jasper offers as explanation as we watch the two of them exit the greenhouse.

“I get the feeling he’s always in a ‘mood’.” My fingers emphasize the last word with air quotations and it draws another chuckle from the gorgeous boy at my side.

“Touché.” He says with a grin. “I better catch up before they ditch me, see ya around darlin’.” He weaves his way through the crowded isle and out of sight before the heat settles in my cheeks.

I manage to file outside and towards the buses with the rest of my class after I gather my wits. I spot Bella already in our shared bus seat with a sad expression. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as I sit.

“Not right now.” She answers, turning to look out of the window.

Next

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Prologue) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood best friend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you together since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings: none Pairings: Lando Norris x Reader, Charles Leclerc x Reader Word Count: 769 Poetry style | Story style A/n: I have returned with yet another series >:) this has been rolling around in my mind and yes its a super simple, done before, run down prompt but I promise to make it worth wild! I feel as though my writing has improved since my last series(which i'm gonna go rewrite) so please enjoy! Ill update as quickly as possible. This is just the prologue so look out for chapter 1 soon, and let me know if you all would be interested in me posting this on Wattpad for easier reading! Much love! Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

prologue; y/n.

There was simply no way, not in this world with all of its coincidences and twists of fate, that things did not happen for a reason. From the minute you’re born until the day you die, there is a reason for everything. An invisible string runs through each and every one of your actions, no matter how little or grand they may be. You were sure of it. There were so many instances you could think of. When you failed that math test and got put back into a different class-the one where you met your first boyfriend who you no longer speak of. When you visited the beach one Summer all the way across the ocean in the United States, and met a girl from your hometown who ended up becoming your life long friend you attended university with. And perhaps the most vital one, when you grew up next door to a boy, only a year older than you, who possessed a love for cars and all things involving them. He would sculpt your life into one of his own, beginning from only the age of three. The two of you would form a shared love, a shared passion, for one sport. However, you found more interest in the mechanical side of things while he preferred to take the wheel. Still, you often wonder how your life would have played out, what you would have done, where you would have gone, who you would have become without him. What would have happened to you if he didn’t live next door? You could never even picture it. Especially now, fresh from university with a degree in automotive engineering hanging on your wall. But the craziest connection of them all? Getting an offer to work in the same sport as your neighbor-no, your childhood best friend. You just couldn’t believe it.

“Y/n you’re joking.” Sophia said on the afternoon the offer popped up in your inbox. She sat on the beanbag chair you used to have in your dorm. You were laying down in bed, lazily scrolling through Twitter before deciding to check your inbox. Now, you were sitting up straight, hand cupping your mouth as you read the email. “Let me see!”

You spun the laptop around, watching her eyes dart across the screen. “It’s not real, there is no way.”

But it was. The email would turn into a phone call, the phone call would turn into a headquarters visit, the visit would turn into a contract. Soon, only a few months after your January graduation, you would be in the Formula 1 paddock, clad in red, tending to the Ferrari livery.

You called Lando only a few weeks before the season started. The two of you hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Hello?”

“Lando, hey.” You scratched the back of your neck. How would he take it? Would he even care at all? Why were you calling with how things ended between the two of you?

There was a second of silence, although it felt like minutes. “Y/n, it’s been a minute. I heard you graduated. Congrats.”

“Oh? Who told you?”

“Mom. You know she's still best friends with yours.”

“Right,” You sighed. He didn’t like your Instagram post that compiled all your grad-photos. Of course he’d only heard it involuntarily. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He responded. “Just preparing for the season, you know?”

“That's actually what I was calling about,” Your heart was pounding. You were so excited to tell him, to let him know that not only did he make it into his dream field, but so did you. “I got a job.”

“Cool. Where at?”

“Ferrari.”

The silence that hung over the line only a little while ago returned. “Like at a shop somewhere in the UK?”

Not exactly the celebration you were hoping for. “No, uh, in F1. I’ll be in the paddock working on either Leclerc’s or Sainz’s car.”

“Oh.” He sniffled. “How’d you manage a job like that straight out of uni?”

“I applied. Didn’t think I would get it but here we are.”

“Well I guess I’ll see you around then.”

And that was it, your big call, your big announcement, all concluded with a ‘see you around’ like it was a conversation to be had in a school yard. You were hurt, your childhood best friend chalking your achievements up to something not worth being impressed about, but you didn’t have time to think about it. You had a job to do and damnit, you were sure you’d be doing it the best.

[marshallsgirl]

Don't leave part 2

Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader

Warnings: 🔞 MATURE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Recommended song: The One - Kodaline

Author's note: I'm working on my graduation final project, that's why I haven't been so active lately. I wrote this and I don't know how I feel about it.  I may delete it later or idk. Hope you all enjoy it. I love you guys so much! Sending all of you a warm hug🫂🤍

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January 14th, 2006

It's pretty late at night. I'm watching the news when once again I have to run to the bathroom. I'm throwing up again. I'm feeling sick. I can't even explain why I felt like doing this but...I'm taking a pregnancy test. I bought one earlier this morning but I couldn't do it. I was too scared. But I'm doing it now. I can't be pregnant. I mean...it would be nice to be...No, I am not pregnant. That thing is going to be negative!

The news reporter started to talk. Maybe it got my attention cause they played a song in the background. An Eminem's song.

"Today January 14th at 5pm Eminem and Kim got married for the second time around their fifteen anniversary. Kim said to People Magazine: 'Marshall wanted to do it because it was our fifteenth year together from our original day we started going out'. They repeated their vows from their first marriage..."

As the reporter is talking I'm looking down at my pregnancy test and I found the word "pregnant". And I started to cry. I've been waiting a long time for this moment but it isn't how I imagined it. I just found out that I'm pregnant and that my baby's daddy is married again. Even knowing this I feel the need to call Marshall. But I can't do that. He's probably on his honeymoon right now. He is probably spending such a great time being a family again. I know he did all of this for Hailie's happiness. I know he is trying hard to put his family back together. I can't call him.

So I called Proof.

"Oh, you saw the news, didn't you?"

"No...I mean yes, but I'm not calling about that" I said trying to control my tears.

"Are u okay? What happen?" I could tell he was concerned.

"Well...I kinda need an advice, man"

"Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing...I just..."

"Hey, y/n you can talk to me. We're good friends, aren't we? I don't care what happened between you and Marshall. You and I, girl. We can still be friends"

That made me lost control of my tears.

" Yo, y/n what happen?"

"Man, I'm pregnant" I confess. "Proof, I don't know what to do. I just found out that I am and I saw the fuckin' news..."

"Wait what that...you pregnant? Is it..." he didn't finish the question

"Yes, of course it's Marshall's"

"Shit...you got to tell him, y/n"

I knew he would say that, but I was hoping to be wrong.

"No, I can't do that to him"

"You know him, y/n. If you don't tell him he is gonna hate you"

"I know he deserves to know but he just got married and I know he wants to be happy with his family"

"So? I mean, he can be happy with them and at the same time he can take care of your baby, his baby. I know he'll want to be a responsable dad. You have to tell him"

"Proof, please I just can't...I'm too scared"

"Y/n, I want you to hang off the phone and call Marshall right now"

I needed time. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more brave. But saying this to Proof won't work.

"Listen, I'm going to do a blood test tomorrow just to be extra sure. Okay? If it is positive I'll call him right away"

"If you don't call him by tomorrow afternoon, I'll do it"

"Please, don't. I promise you, I'll call him".

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The blood test confirmed that I'm pregnant. But when I tried to contact Marshall he didn't answered his phone. So, I called Proof and he planned a reunion for us at Marshall's studio.

"Y/n?" he said when he saw me. "Are u looking for Proof? He'll be here soon, actually I'm waiting for him" he added.

"He's not coming. It's me who you are waiting for. I called you but you didn't answerd so..."

"I'm married" he said rapidly

"I know, Marshall. I just need to tell you something important"

"Go on then. I need to go back to my family, you know" it was something weird in the way he said that, like it was something he had to say it to believe it. I can explain it, I just know him too much. But I didn't ask him about it. So, I extended my hand to him. Letting him know that he needed to grab the paper (the blood pregnancy test) that was on my hand. He read it and then looked at me shocked.

"Is this some kinda joke?" he asked. "Why are u doin' this?"

"I am pregnant, Marshall. And listen I just thought you deserved to know. Even Proof told me that I should tell you 'cause if I didn't you'll hate me forever". I started to say. "I know you think I'm doin' this 'cause I want us to be back together but I promise you I'm not. I would never do something like this to make you leave your family".

"You really are pregnant...How long? How are you feeling?"

Now I could tell he was concerned.

" I don't know how many weeks I am. I just found out that I am pregnant, so I have no idea. And I've been feeling sick"

"Let's take you to the doctors then"

So we made a prenatal appointment.

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"The baby is 7 week and 1 day!" said the doctor.

I looked at Marshall's face. It looked like he was counting.

"So, you got pregnant on november 2005..." said Marshall as we both realized that my pregnancy started on the day he left me.

"Which means the due date is September 1st" the doctor told us.

"Oh, a virgo baby!" I said.

"Is it just one or there is more than one?" Marshall asked. I could tell he was really curious.

"I can answer that next week. The next appointment will be an ultrasound appointment, okay?"

I saw Marshall's face lighting up.

"Oh my! Our first ultrasound appointment?" I couldn't wait for that. That's exciting! I'll get to see my baby for the first time.

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In the car on the way back to y/n's home.

"Did you tell Kim about me? I mean, about me being pregnant" I asked. I was really curious to know if she got a certain reaction. But "no" was the only answerd Marshall gave me.  "So, are u going to hide this from her?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's get you something to eat" he said.

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Time went by and Marshall finally told me that things were not good between Kim and him. He assure me that it had nothing to do with me or my pregnancy. Then he mentioned the word "divorce", but made it very clear that he wasn't doing it because of me.

"I'm really happy you are pregnant, y/n. But now it's not the time for me to be in a relationship" he said.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? It must had been something really serious. I mean, you got re-married and now just three month later you want a divorce"

"I trust you, but I really don't wanna talk about it. Can we talk about the baby?"

"What exactly you want to talk about?" I wonder

"Do you feel it's a boy or a girl?"

I really didn't know how to answer that. I've done all the things to predict the sex of the baby and it's pretty even. I mean, I got 50% girl and 50% boy. So, I have no idea.

"They'll call me soon to tell me my results on the last exams I did and they could tell me the sex you know"

"Are you going to surprise me?" he asked and then leave a kiss on my belly. We're both laying in bed. I was to tired to do the normal things I do like cook and clean. And Marshall volunteer to help me. I couldn't say no. For real, even if I say no he would probably throw me to bed and lock me in my room.

"Yeah, I'm going to surprise you. I don't know how yet but I'll do it".

"Okay, then I'mma go buy you something to eat. Any cravings?"

"Can you get me some donuts?"

"Yeah, I'll be back soon" he says and before he leaves he press his lips on my belly once again. "Love you" he added.

"The baby loves you too" I said.

"I love you, too y/n" he says letting me know that  he said it for both of us, the baby and me. He is driving me crazy. I don't understand him. And people say women are the complicated ones. He doesn't want to be in a relationship and that's why he is getting divorce. So, I think he comes to see me and do shit for me just because the baby but then he is telling me he love me?

"Hey! I said I love you, y/n" he was already by the bedroom door. I know he won't leave unless I say it back.

"Stop it! You are going to get me all horny and shit"

"You’re horny preggers, aren’t you?" he says walking towards the bed.

"I’m fat and horny. It’s disgusting."

" Nah, you could be 300 pounds I’d still do you".

Maybe it's because I'm hormonal but I'm touched and I start crying.

"You're so fuckin' romantic" I say

He sitting by the edge of the bed now. He is touching my belly. His touch is soft. I want to say that I love him. But, honestly I'm just to scared to do that.

"I feel it's a boy. And I can't wait to see the way you're with him. You're gonna be incredible"  he says "I love you, y/n" he assures me.

"I'm nervous..." I manage to say

"I'm nervous too"

"No, you are not!" I replied

"Y/n, I'm not divorce yet... The truth is I'm just waiting for that to be done so I can...so that we can try to do this right. You're my home and I'm sorry it took me a lot of shit to finally understand that. You've always been there for me. I've always came back to you, every fuckin' time. I was so stupid. I'm truly sorry. I promise you I'll never ever hurt you again. I won't leave you. I promise for as long as we're together, to never, ever put you through anything like that again."

"Marshall..."

"Wait, I know it's going to be difficult almost impossible for you to forgive me, but please try. Please, y/n. 'Cause I miss you a lot and I love you even more. You don't have to say it back, though. You don't have to say nothing at all right now. I completly get it". when he finished he got up and left the room really quick. He didn't give me time to express myself.

"I love you, Marshall" I said to the nothingness.

A moment later my phone starts to ring. It's my doctor. She started to tell me about my result and how everything was normal and that I need more vitamin C and then she said:

" This also tell us the sex of the baby. Would you like to know?"

"Yes!"

"Would you like me to tell you over the phone or..."

"Over the phone it's okay" I didn't even let her finish her question. I was to excited!

"Over the phone it's okay?"

"Yes"

"Okay, let me open it up...Alright it looks like you are having a baby boy!"

Omfg! I'm crying, now. Marshall was right! Oh, man I'm having a boy!

"Omg, thank you!" I manage to say

"Congratulations!" said my doctor before ending the phone call.

I couldn't wait to tell Marshall. I needed to surprise him. So, I figurate out a way to do so. I grab a white mug, his favorite mug actually (and it's not his but mine). But okay, it's his favorite. And I wrote inside at the buttom of it: "it's a boy". Then I prepared him a mixed berry smoothie.

He came back just in time.

"Here, try this" I said giving him the mug.

"What are you doing out of bed? Why are you holding my mug? What is this?"

"Marshall, just drink it! It's a mixed berry smoothie and...it has the sex of our baby!"

And just as I finished to say that he started to drink it. He finished in seconds! And as soon as he read what was inside, he ran to put the mug on the table and then ran back to hug me and lift me in his arms.

"Marshall, we're having a boy!" I got my arms around his neck. Enjoying that moment. I was crying but all happy tears.

"Yes! Oh my God, what the fuck! Life is crazy!" He kept saying this words. He was really happy too.

"God is so beautiful!"

"I told you! I knew it was a boy! I fuckin' told you!" He said as he put me down.

"Holy shit, I know that's crazy!"

He knelt in front of me and kissed my belly and then said:

"I knew you were in there the whole time. I love you, son"

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 4

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: a lot of angst and just lonely and pining and heartbroken Ominis but not for long

— WORDCOUNT: 1.8k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16

“Have you read this one yet?”

“Not yet. You said it’s good?”

“I think so, but I don’t know how it compares to Hereward.”

“He was a middling potioneer at best. He is more famous for his father than his own work. What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Anything is fine.”

Her hand slid on top of his as they lay together on her bed, books spread out between them, their hair tousled on the pillows. Outside, it was still raining. The sun had nearly set, the sky was covered in clouds, and they hadn’t yet lit a lamp. For Ominis, it didn’t make a difference.

He flipped through one of the books without even paying attention to what he picked up, and sightlessly read aloud to her the passages that made him chuckle. The older the book, generally speaking, the more strange and dangerous its instructions were.

“Yes, just cut that claw off at the root from a sleeping dragon, I’m certain nothing bad could happen. To think they gave this instruction to third years in the 1640s…”

“Do they list any evasive manoeuvres?” she asked with a grin.

“I don’t think so, although I can feel something is scribbled on the side… Perhaps a cautionary ‘do not attempt alone’.”

What a strange experience, to be read to in the dark… It was comforting and intimate in a way she’d never experienced before. It made her think of all those school nights when Ominis would be studying on his own, and she’d be off on some quest or scouring through a goblin camp or doing away with Ashwinders using the curses Sebastian taught her. It seemed now like so much time lost… If she had spent more time with him instead, would it have been a comfort to him? Would things had ended up differently?

As Ominis kept reading, she rolled to her side and rested her head against his arm. He paused, but only for a moment, and then went on.

They decided, almost wordlessly, to do together the things they hadn’t done before. After a few more days of rain, they went to the forest looking for mushrooms, something Ominis could not safely do until then. They went on shopping trips to Diagon and Knockturn Alley and spent the whole day there — after a brief stop to Gringotts for him to relieve his family vault of a few more Galleons — and treated themselves to new robes and tailored clothes, and ingredients so they could try out some of the more dangerous potions they could never do at Hogwarts.

At the end of this escapade, she went to her home and packed up a few more things to take back to the mansion. Ominis waited for her with an undying smug smile — in the end, she would still be with him come winter.

“Have you considered staying, perhaps, even longer?” he asked with a casual air as they had tea at a little table next door to Scribbulus.

“You mean over Christmas and New Year’s?”

“Yes,” said Ominis at length, “and maybe longer than that?”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” she grinned. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. Yes or no?”

He kept a smile on his face, but his brow was tense. Whatever confidence he’d had was clearly dwindling at her refusal to give him a straight answer.

“What are you really asking me, Ominis?” she said with a quiet lean forward and a teasing tone.

“Only what I said…”

She didn’t believe him, but couldn’t stop her grin.

In the end, she agreed to stay with him until January.

“After that, I really must go. I’ve put off looking for employment long enough.”

“There’s nothing to say you can’t remain with me and work.”

“Ominis…”

“And if you mention taking advantage of my so-called generosity one more time, I shall lock you in.”

“Ominis!” she laughed, but a part of her felt he was serious.

“I meant it,” he said more quietly. “I need you. I… I need you, to be happy.”

Her laughter died and she was left gazing at him softly, in silence. She wasn’t used to such openness from him… He was always the quiet one, closed off and elusive, a mystery in many ways, just like his family. And it was in part because of his family that she never considered Ominis as… more. More than a friend. The Gaunts would never have approved of her, and so every early flash of infatuation died until it ceased to flare at all. Of course, she had never imagined the drastic measured he would take to free himself from them… She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. Between him and Sebastian, perhaps she had an unhealthy interest in homicidal boys.

Slowly, she reached across the table and covered his hand as it still held onto a teacup — an innocent and innocuous one, this time — and searched inside herself.

“It’s a difficult thing to imagine,” she said, “to be the one that makes you happy…”

“I don’t mean it as an imposition,” he said hastily, “not like some… some duty.”

“Still, it’s not what… what I…”

“Not what you had planned for your life?” he asked coolly, leaning back. He slid his hand from underneath hers and picked the cup with the other one for a sip.

“I don’t mean it like that, but… I suppose I don’t know yet what I want from life.”

“But enough to know it isn’t me, isn’t that so?”

“No,” she said with a faint laugh, “not even that much.”

Ominis nodded, but he seemed somewhat at peace, that or the fight had gone out of him at her utter lack of enthusiasm for his roundabout courtship. Still, it hadn’t been an outright rejection, at least not yet…

But it made the rest of their time together a bit more strained. She could feel his attention cast down on her whenever they were together — and perhaps it had always been so, but she only just now noticed — and their silences together grew more sad, more lonely, more discouraged.

Strangely, Ominis became a bit more daring too, as if he had nothing left to lose.

He showed her the mansion’s dungeons, finally, after months of her being there. She’d never asked to see it, but she had learned that it was held under lock and key. The only thing Ominis had told her about it was that it existed. It was a grey and arched expanse with cells on either side, and instruments the sort of which she’d only seen in the DADA class at Hogwarts — iron maidens, racks, heretic forks, and rows and rows of shackles along one of its walls.

“Don’t worry,” said Ominis, “it hasn’t been used in generations. I think. It should be adequately sterile by now.”

It did little to assuage her apprehensions, as the instruments and parts of the floor were still splattered with stains.

“Who were they used on?”

“I never asked.”

Ominis was more daring in asking for what he really wanted, too. Long picnics at the edge of the forest, dragging on until the owls and bats flew overhead and the wolves began to howl. Reading sessions of curse books in her bedroom until midnight with the lamps turned dim. They purchased a gramophone together, a muggle device his parents never would have abided, and played the latest symphonies out of its large flower-shaped cone.

And, lastly, he told her exactly what how he killed his family, and what he did with them… She was only partially surprised, but mostly secretly in awe at his daring and creativity.

He was expecting her to leave almost any day, and took advantage of the time she gave him. She gladly let him do it. And, from sheer cowardice, never addressed his fears — never told him that she felt things she hadn’t felt in years, and simply didn’t know what to do with them, especially in his presence, now, when she was really beginning to know him. Instead of seeing the polite Ominis, the aristocrat, the reluctant heir, the burgeoning dark wizard, she delved into his wants, his needs, his fears, and had found in him very much a kindred spirit.

She did, however, plan to leave — more for his sake than her own. Ominis needed someone who could dedicate their life to him, their freedom, and put aside their sense of self. He also needed a gentle soul who could be a good influence to him. And she was the furthest thing from that…

As the holidays approached, along with her implied departure, they gradually grew more distant. Even when they had dinner, even when they went on walks, or when they danced together by the fireplace to the wailing gramophone, there were silences between them that otherwise would not have been.

She resolved to buy him something, like a consolation gift — something as much for Christmas as for a ‘good-bye’ — and slipped out of the house one day in mid December via floo. There was nothing that someone could give to a boy who had everything — all the luxury, the books, the clothes, and all those fragrant roses that were now buried in snow — but she felt that he uniquely missed a sense of normalcy. He’d probably never celebrated a proper Christmas with his family, only the ones at Hogwarts, and that time must’ve been bitter for him. Seeing so many other classmates going happily back home, coming back with charming little presents and fond stories… She wondered if being around Anne and Sebastian was easier, as they didn’t have much of a home to go back to either.

It was, of course, pointless to speculate, especially when she had a mission: find him a worthy present.

Three hours later, she returned with a prettily wrapped package in brilliant green. The sun was just setting and coloured the sky pink, colouring the drawing room through the wide glass panes. Aside from the flash she made as she arrived, the house was eerily silent. She was pleased with this, of course, as it kept her journey secret. Ominis must have still been in the library where she left him, that or he’d gone looking for her… She meant to hide the package before she returned to him, slip it on some high shelf or some place out of reach, where even his wand wouldn’t detect it, but then she heard footsteps coming from the foyer… She only had enough time to tuck it behind her back.

But the steps were heavy, angry-sounding, and made by large boots. A visitor, at that hour? And uninvited too… She frowned and undid her cloak to lay it on an armchair, ready to confront whoever it was, when the stranger opened the door to the drawing room and walked in.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She recognised him from the pictures that still littered the mansion: Marvolo Gaunt.

[aboutnavi]

I was brushing my teeth, reflecting about life, & my mind went back to AFTG and there is a scene on the first book that it has been stuck on my brain since I read the trilogy again this January and it's about Seth. Now, I know the fandom -in general- barely talk about Seth because Nora decided to kill him off for shock value and when people try to talk about him, it always comes back to 'he was a homophobic, disgusting piece of shit' which yes, valid but also, are we forgetting Aaron? The babyfication of Aaron in this fandom had everyone collectively forgetting he was exactly like Seth (even worse: towards his family!!!). Two wrongs doesn't make one right & I'm in no way justifying Seth's action but if we never talk about characters on AFTG just because they were problematic, we are not talking about any of them, ever (ok maybe some of them, but still).

My point is: the scene. Neil is confused as to why Seth hates Kevin -specifically him- so much, since Seth could get along with most people if he wanted and tried hard enough but he refused to give ground to Kevin & his answer is just so humanly heartbreaking it goes to my list of moments Nora did something right in AFTG. The scene goes like this:

Neil: Why do you hate him?

Seth: Because I'm sick of him getting everything he wants just because he's Kevin Day. Do you know what fame gets you, shitface? Everything. All he has to do is ask for it, and someone will give it to him. Doesn't matter what. Doesn't matter who. The world is dying to give him anything he wants. When he broke his hand, his fans cried for him. They flooded our locker room with letters and flowers. The amazing Kevin Day can't play anymore. Their lives were over. They'd grieve the loss forever. But tell me when's the last time anyone cried over you? Never, right? They're there for Kevin every step of the way, but where were they when we needed them?

Neil, stupidly: So you're jealous.

Seth: His life is not more important than mine just because he's more talented.

Neil first instinct is to say jealousy because jealousy is something he understands (he felt jealous of Kevin for having a future, for being able to play, for the talent, for the life he never got to live when his mother ran away, etc.) but for me what Seth is trying to portrait is more like the painful awareness that you get when you realize you're also worthy of love and care. Seth is such an unexplored character who had so much potential if Nora hadn't killed him for the sake of showing how Riko could be/was dangerous (and she could have done that in so many different ways!!!) & you can see that on, for example, Nora's post about his life. Seth was always the no-priority person, the kid no one payed attention to, the boy that if killed, not even his mother would come for the funeral. He was every aspect a Fox and he spent his entire life being told he was no one and to be able to say his life is not more important than mine shows so much development; the chance he had put on himself for being open to love, to care, to second and third chances... it was all there. It breaks my heart that he never got the chance to become something. & I do not believe he was an inherently bad person? They are so young in AFTG, all of them. Maybe Seth wasn't bad; maybe he was just twenty-two, you know?

& on the extra content when they tell Allison he died and she goes 'He called me not even an hour ago! He was drunk and rambling but he was happy for the first time in weeks. He was talking about how he finally thought graduating would be okay, about how he wanted me to help him look into grad schools. He wanted to go into social work and help people like he helps us. I know he wanted to die! Everyone knows he wanted to die! Every time he said he was done with life I walked away from him and every time he came chasing after me. This is the first time--he wanted to live.' breaks my heart.

Because, ok, Seth dies. Let's pretend it was a good idea for him to die to set some sort of impact on the story for a second. Except his death goes without much fuss. The shock Nora wanted is felt for maybe three seconds, in one paragraph in the last page of TFC and then we barely talk about Seth on TRK and TKM. Neil can't even understand how impactful was Seth's death - he only cares about how it will affect the game & his guilt is more about how Allison would feel towards him then sadness over losing a teammate - and this insight we get from Allison is from the extra content and not everyone goes on to read those so if Nora wanted something out of his death - pity, shock, sadness, or whatever - she should have put this scene IN THE BOOKS.

[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 1/10

12k+ Hangster AU. Updating 2-3 parts per week and will be finished by 31st January 2024. (Each part is ~1500 words).

Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

(Note for later parts/chapters - Ice uses sign to communicate at home, I’m typing it like sign is English despite the fact that I know it isn’t (while NZSL is my third language, I have no working knowledge on the grammar useage in ASL).)

PART ONE

                The 12 hour trip has given him plenty of time to think. He doesn’t know what possessed him to accept Mav’s offer; quiet place you can just get away from everything. When faced with the idea of going home and seeing his family, not being able to answer questions versus being offered a solitary retreat into the woods for a week or two or however long he could stand his own company… Well, he’s never spent very much time alone before and he guesses the novelty had held a certain appeal. He knows he might not actually be alone when he gets there. Mav had mentioned that his son might still be there, but that he’d be leaving to get back to school. It had made him sound young. But Jake’s seen photos, knows that Bradley has at least graduated from some form of college judging from the photos in Mav’s office and hangar, proud moments documented with pictures. 

                Sure enough when he pulls in front of the cabin there’s another truck out front, music blaring from somewhere. He steps out of his own truck and can now hear someone loudly singing along. He follows the sound around the house and yep, definitely the same guy from the photos (the flash of moustache is the clincher). He’s cutting wood, axe swinging easily in time with the music and Jake takes his time to just watch. He’s tall, maybe a bit taller than Jake and he hadn’t been expecting that with how tall Maverick was not. Shirtless, skin tanned and gleaming with sweat from the combination of summer heat and exertion of cutting wood. Jake swallows, letting his eyes run over the scene appreciatively because it’s been a little while and this right here is… nice.

                “Baby can I hold you tonight?” Thunk. “Baby if I told you the right words.” Thunk. “Ooo, at the right time.” Thunk. “Would you be mine?” Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. “Baby can I hold you tonight?” Thunk.

                As he watches, he assesses; Bradley looks around the same age as Jake and the other Dagger squadron members. Not young at all then. No wonder Mav had been so insistent about getting them all home, dad-vibe just morphing to encompass them all. He’d never had imagined a man with Maverick’s history to be a family man. That somehow, somewhere along the line, Maverick managed to raise a small human into the tall drink of water in front of him. Jake doesn’t know why he feels surprised, Mav is a good-looking man despite his age but he still doesn’t see much of a resemblance between him and Bradley. He shifts on his feet, not wanting to interrupt a man holding an axe, especially one as attractive while doing so… he licks his lips, wishing for a toothpick or some gum just to have something to do with his mouth and his lips twitch as he thinks about other ways he could occupy his mouth with the man in front of him. He startles, realization hitting him hard and fast. This is Mav’s son.

                Fuck.

                He cannot, under any circumstances, fuck with this man. Literally or figuratively. Maverick would kill him. He’d find some way to make it look like an accident, or just commit outright murder and then hide the body. And there would be no shortage of volunteers to help him do it. It’s only for a couple of days before Bradley apparently has to leave, Jake can be on his utmost best behavior. And it’s not like he’s in any fit state anyway. It’ll be fine.

                “Fucking shit!”

                Jake jumps at the yell, staring into the wide eyes of Bradley Mitchell, because there cannot be that many people with that moustache in the world. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, knows he’s going to have to refrain from so many comments about that distracting caterpillar of facial hair.

                “Sorry!”

                “Jesus man, you scared the fuck out of me…”

                The urge to bite back and tell him he shouldn’t be cutting wood by himself, or have music playing so loudly he can’t hear vehicles come up the road are on the tip of his tongue but he bites them back. Best behavior he reminds himself. And when did he become such an old man? Ugh.

                “Sorry,” he starts again. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’m Jake. Lieutenant Jake Serensin.”

                The other man’s face goes pale under his tan, eyes going wide.

                “Fuck. Is Mav okay?”

                Shit.

                “He’s fine! Totally fine. Sorry. Again. I didn’t mean to worry you. You’re Bradley though right? Mav’s son? He said you’d be here, told me he’d let you know to expect me.”

                A look of relief is quickly replaced by chagrin and Jake bites his lip, because he’s definitely not expected.

                “Shit, I dropped my phone in the lake yesterday. Haven’t checked in with anyone. Obviously you’re welcome though, any friend of Mav’s is a friend of mine,” Bradley says. He’s smiling, reaching his hand out to shake and Jake gives himself a mental slap. He’s not sure if he should correct him on the whole friends with Mav front, because he’s pretty sure the older man merely tolerates him. And this is the son of a superior officer and he’s a guest and he will remember his manners if he doesn’t want to deal with the certain Southern guilt that will settle on him later. Best behavior. Which is also why he won’t go asking questions about why Bradley calls his dad by his fucking callsign.

                “Nice to meet you.”

                “Likewise. Sorry I wasn’t expecting you. You obviously know Mav, and who I am. I figure you’re not a serial killer. Let me just, uh, grab my shirt and then I can help you with your bags.”

                He wants to tell him not to bother, that he’s enjoying the view plenty, but even something as benign as ‘don’t put a shirt on on my account’ would come out heavy with the (intended) innuendo so he keeps his mouth shut and nods before realizing he doesn’t need any help with his bags and says as much, biting back another comment about the floral Hawaiian shirt that the other man is shoving his arms through but still leaving completely unbuttoned and okay, he’s thankful for small mercies. He’s going to look, he’s not a fucking saint.

                “It’s fine man, come on. Let me show you the guest room. Did you bring groceries? I hope Mav warned you to bring food, because unless you like hunting and fishing you’re shit out of luck.”

                Fortunately Mav had warned him and Jake had organized groceries. He carries everything inside with Bradley’s help; front door opening into a large living space with a kitchen and dining area to one side, a large wall-mounted TV on one wall and then a fireplace taking up the central inner wall, clearly used for heating in the cooler months. Down a short hallway Bradley points out Mav’s bedroom, his own and then the guest room where Jake drops his duffle.

                Heading back to the kitchen he takes in the few photos, not many personalized ones, but plenty of ones of different types of aircraft and something in him feels a little more settled just looking at the pictures of the planes in the air. The piano and guitar make him pause and he wonders if either belong to Mav or Bradley. Obviously one or both of them play, although he can’t imagine Mav playing either. Then there are the books. So many books, some look like heavy texts and Jake wonders who the hell comes away on vacation to read textbooks that are thick enough to be classified as weapons. He can imagine Mav reading them over playing the musical instruments though. Bradley is putting the chilled items away in the fridge, offering him a beer and Jake takes it gratefully. One won’t hurt.

                “So how was the drive?”

                “Long.” Too long considering he’s meant to be taking it easy but he’s done worse.

                “Where did you drive from?”

                “North Island.”

                “Shit. I thought you’d just come from Fallon.”

                “Huh. No. That would have been much closer, but I needed to get away.”

                He almost expects Bradley to ask, but he guesses growing up with Mav he knows some questions won’t get answers so lets it slide and Jake’s grateful.

                “So you saw Mav yesterday?”

                “Yep, sure did. He made the offer a few days ago and just reminded me of it yesterday and I thought… sure. Why not.”

                “Did he give you a list of jobs?”

                “No. Should he have?”

                “He must like you,” Bradley laughs and Jake’s eyes catch the column of his throat as he tips his bottle to take a drink and he swallows roughly. Okay. He looks away and hums, shrugs. Doesn’t want to mention the concussion and bruises he’s still recovering from. He’s meant to be taking it easy and Mav knows it.

                “So, what do you do? Or is being a lumberjack a fulltime gig?”

                “Ha. No. I’m a… teacher.”

                Jake quirks an eyebrow because that answer had waivered as an almost question. But it tracks with the summer break and the whole getting back to school thing Mav has mentioned. And it’s a good a conversation as any, although it is quickly turned on him, with Bradley asking him about his flying experiences, looking a little wistful when Jake mentions going through Top Gun and he wonders if it would be impolite to ask why Bradley didn’t join the Navy like Mav. Definitely. Obviously his face still asks the question, because Bradley is offering up information freely.

                “My mom asked me to not join the Navy. Not quite her dying wish, but pretty damn close…”

                Well shit. He winces.

                “I’m sorry –” Jake starts and Bradley is already waving his hand.

                “It was over twenty years ago, you’re good. I’m good. She just wanted me safe. Of course, telling a teenager he can’t do something isn’t usually the best approach. And keeping Mav from teaching me to fly was never going to happen. I got my solo license when I was sixteen and haven’t looked back. I love flying.”

                “That is something I can agree with,” Jake says, tipping his beer bottle toward Bradley.

                “To flying.”

                “To flying,” Bradley repeats, his smile wide and friendly.

PART TWO

[ubescoups]

Run To You

Chapter One

January 2023.

Last semester in college. 

Elle’s seniors say it is the most pivotal semester for an accounting student. 

Make it or break it.

It doesn’t help that her mother has been vocal about her being a graduating student. She knows she cannot claim it yet. Elle’s far from being a graduating student. 

Whenever her mother says that her breath hitches a little, maybe it’s because she needs to finish this degree this June. She has no choice. She’s at the mercy of her aunt, who’s residing overseas and funding her college education. It’s a fact she has to remember over and over again to force herself to study. 

As the youngest among her cousins, she has heard the great tales of her parents’ wealth in the 90s. 

Alam mo, Elle, dati, ang mama at papa mo ang naggagala sa amin sa Greenbelt noon tapos they would take us to restaurants to eat out. 

Mama mo ang nagpaaral sa amin dati. 

The best talaga sila mama at papa mo.

She could only listen to those stories and wished that her parents did better at handling their finances. 

Hindi naman namin alam na dadating ka sa buhay namin, anak.

They were trying for a baby for a long time and had her years later. Her late father and mother often say she’s an answered prayer, but it makes her wonder. Why did they not think too far ahead about the life their kid will have if she’s a prayer they have recited maybe a million times?  

Despite growing remorse for her parents’ past decisions, she keeps pushing forward. 

Ano nga naman magagawa ko? Nangyari naman na ang lahat. Wala na akong magagawa. Pagbubutihin ko na lang. Ako na ang bubuhay kay Mama pagtapos nito.

It has been ingrained in her mind that she will be the family’s breadwinner once she completes her degree. 

Si Elle ang pag-asa mo.

Her relatives would say it to her mother as she gloats that her daughter, Elle, has been the responsible and intelligent kid she has always wanted. Her mother would say she was able to raise her well by making sure she had the best study habits and demeanor as a kid. It has been that way since she was a kid, and it’s why her aunt has supported her studies since she was a kid. She was the wonder kid of the most influential maternal figure of the family after her grandmother. 

“Napaano ka, Elle?” Jun asks as he settles beside the lady drowning in her thoughts. 

“Ah, may naiisip lang,” she replies with a slight smile. 

“Oh, ito. I got us some coffee,” he says. 

“Nag-abala ka pa, huy,” she hastily replies. 

“Wala ‘yan. Break ka muna sa pagkakape sa Lawson. Tikman mo ‘yan. Bagong bukas ‘yan sa Dapitan,” he tells her as he places the cup of coffee on her armrest. 

Elle thanks him. On the cup’s lid is a carefully folded note. She opens it. 

Kaya mo ‘yan, Elle. Ikaw pa! Andito lang ako. - Jun <3

“Thank you, Jun. Effort mo talaga,” she says, lips curling slightly. 

She’s been hesitant to think about what Jun has been doing for her. Elle knows she cannot handle being responsible for another person’s feelings when she can’t even contain her own. Elle still cannot sleep at night alone with the lights off. She would feel suffocated by her thoughts. That alone proves that she will only hurt Jun if she lets herself fall for him. 

Kapag hindi kami nagtagal at napamahal na ako sa kanya, mawawala ako sa huwisyo. Hindi ko kaya ‘yon. May hinahabol pa akong pangarap.

Elle knows her limits. She has to be focused on one goal. All eyes are on her. A lot is expected from her. She knows she has no right to be sidetracked. Being an only child means carrying out the family’s responsibilities because it’s her role. 

“Saan ka nga pala after class, Elle? Gusto mo ba aral tayo kasama sila Denise at Coleen?” Jun asks. 

“Cafe ba? If yes, pass muna. Gusto ko muna umuwi agad. Masakit likod ko eh,” Elle responds. 

“Discord na lang?” Jun asks. 

She nods.

That is not just the reason why she declined Jun’s offer. Elle doesn’t tell her friends that she’s trying to budget the allowance that she gets from her mother to have her indulgences. She has committed to joining her friends outside the university in a drag show next month. For a student who commutes from her hometown to Manila every class day, Elle gets to save a little money that she spends on sudden school-related expenses and her hobbies. Because of this, she would put herself on strict financial planning to ensure she saves money. 

Purgang purga na ako sa siomai rice at rice meals ng Lawson.

She eats a lot of food at home to minimize the need to buy food around the university. It doesn’t help that lately, her friends would drag her with them to study in cafes or co-working spaces. Elle can only sigh at how tight her finances are. Unlike the pandemic's peak when she could do some business and work to support herself and contribute to their household while studying, she cannot do part-time jobs anymore as she has to focus on her courses. 

“Kakasimula palang ng sem na ‘to parang mamamatay na ako sa bigat ng subjects,” Coleen retorts as she picks up her bag from the plastic chair. 

“Discord na lang diba, Jun, Elle?” Denise asks.

Elle nods. 

“Okay. Kitakits. Mga eight na tayo magsimula para makahinga-hinga lahat pagtapos bumiyahe,” Jun says, looking at Elle. 

The three nod in agreement. 

“Una na ako, guys. Maghahabol pa ako ng jeep,” Elle says. 

“Gesi. Ingat, Mama Elle,” Denise replies. 

“Ikaw rin. Coleen, Jun, kayo rin,” Elle adds.

“Bye, Elle. Text me when you get home?” Jun says. 

Elle nods. 

After some hugs and a little chitchat, Elle steps out of the room as she places earphones on her ears. If one thing could silence her raging thoughts, it would be music. She momentarily forgets her worries over the upcoming first comprehensive exams for each of her subjects this semester. She doesn’t think of the many things she has to catch up on at home and her internship that’s about to end. She doesn’t think about the upcoming research defense initially scheduled last month. Aside from that, she has some org work to accomplish. 

She walks along the pathways in front of Albertus and Ruaño, music blasting in her ears. The wind is cooling her sweaty skin as she looks around her surroundings—a temporary solace. 

A man laughing with his friends blocks the path as she trudges on the sidewalk. 

“Excuse me po,” she retorts. 

“Ay, sensya po,” the man mutters. 

Elle stops herself from rolling her eyes. Engineering students block the pathway every day she’s in the university. They would talk in the middle of the sidewalk while walking slowly—her pet peeve. She continues to walk, focusing on the music she’s listening to. 

If not for the slow traffic along España, she would stay on the campus for a bit. She would let the cold wind of the late afternoon kiss her skin as her eyes wandered to the greenery from Plaza Mayor to Lovers’ Lane. The turmoil caused by the classes in her building is silenced by the solace brought upon by the campus once she goes out of Albertus. It has been that way since 2019, even when the college was still in the university’s carpark. 

Having those thoughts, Elle realized how far she had come. She was far from the girl who was discouraged by the guy she took care of when she was a freshman and he was a sophomore. 

Hindi mo kaya ‘tong course na ‘to.

Kung ako sa’yo, umalis ka na habang maaga pa. 

Shift ka na.

It was three years ago when it all happened, but his voice is still in Elle’s head whenever a semester starts. 

Will she be able to survive it? Is he right all along? 

It’s no secret that Accounting, in general, is never her dream career path. It didn’t help that she transferred from BS Accountancy to BS Management Accounting in her second year in college. Elle has always felt doubt and uncertainty about her decisions and path in life as an accounting student because she was never sure of it, and she had someone doubt her from the start. 

She sighs heavily as she exits the campus to cross the street through the footbridge. She looks at the heavy traffic flow caused by the rush hour. Surviving a three-hour lecture is one thing, but the commute home is another story. 

Her daily demise as a student could have been prevented if her parents planned her college education well, but she knows there is no point in thinking about it already. She can only live in the moment and work with what she is provided. She has no chance to voice out these feelings without upsetting her mother. 

As she reaches the sidewalk after going down from the footbridge, she waves her hand to signal an approaching jeepney she wants to ride. The vehicle stops, allowing her to get in and find a seat just in time before the light goes green again. 

It’s going to be a two-hour commute going home.

[klainepolls]

unexpected- day 2 of 7

by: @kurtsascot

day 1

POLL AT END RESOLVES COFFEE FIASCO

———

It’s Kurt Hummel.

Blaine doesn’t know much about Kurt, but he’d recognize him anywhere- He has spent the better part of his junior year pining for the guy, and their hypothetical love life has been an unrelenting rumination since last semester.

Granted, the admiration is embarrassingly one-sided. As a teaching assistant, Kurt rarely steered conversations away from the course material, and their one-on-one talks were wholeheartedly unremarkable. It’s unlikely that Blaine made a lasting impression- Kurt probably doesn’t even remember him.

It’s not like Blaine wanted his crush to be noticed last semester anyway. He didn’t want class to turn awkward or to make things weird or to make Kurt uncomfortable, so he forced himself to maintain some distance.

After finals, Blaine figured he’d never see Kurt again. NYU has so many majors and classes, and New York City is even more expansive- the odds of seeing Kurt, and of having the opportunity to spark up conversation, were slim. He could have graduated. Or moved. Blaine knew that. Logically.

But, Blaine’s human and evidently masochistic.

He’s been fantasizing. Despite his better judgement, Blaine’s imagined every scenario, every way he could hypothetically run into Kurt. He’s daydreamed about how to best introduce himself. He’s planned how he could, theoretically, convince Kurt to like him back. He knows what he would do. You know, conceptually.

It’s different in the moment.

Blaine’s infatuation had begun to ease over winter break and with the hubbub of a new semester. Seeing Kurt in person throws him right back into the thick of it.

It’s terrifying.

As the seconds tick by, Blaine’s all the more aware of how unprepared he is to talk to Kurt and propose something more.

He’s never been this close to Kurt. He’s close enough to pick up on the faint freckles on his nose, to see the individual strands of his hair, to feel his breath on his face-

The longer Blaine stares, the more incoherent he feels, and the more certain he is that he’s going to blow this.

He might have already blown it. Kurt is covered in his boiling coffee, after all.

…Shit.

“It’s fine,” Kurt says, shaking his head. He sounds a little annoyed, but not mad, and Blaine’s going to take that as a win. “Honestly, this is just my luck,” he mumbles, taking a step back, and Blaine resists the urge to chase his warmth. “I don’t need to be anywhere this early- I should’ve just slept in.”

Blaine waves his coffee soaked hands in front of his face. “No, No. This is my fault. Really. I wasn’t paying attention- I was running late.” His hands are still burning- Blaine pulls off his mittens, wincing as his reddened palms meet the cold January air, and then, tragically, he becomes all the more aware that Kurt has skin under his dress shirt, and that he’s probably in pain too. “Are you okay?”

A small smile. It doesn’t reach Kurt’s eyes. He’s holding back because of course he is- he doesn’t know Blaine. Not really. “It’s cold enough out here that getting drenched in your coffee is kind of nice,” Kurt says through a laugh that bubbles. “Thanks for asking.”

Kurt cranes his neck down and pulls his shirt away from his chest, inspecting the stain.

Coffee’s everywhere, and Blaine knows his designers- Kurt’s got on a Vivienne Westwood button down. He groans. “I’m sorry,” he uselessly repeats. “I’m not normally this distracted, I swear. Is it ruined?” He isn’t above buying Kurt a replacement, but he doubts that a replica is in his price range.

Kurt tsks, playfully offended. “Please. I’ve rescued clothes with far worse staining. It’ll be fine.”

Blaine’s worry melts away and he finds himself laughing and maybe smiling a bit too wide. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. My apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” Kurt acquiesces and smiles back. He scrunches his nose and he points behind Blaine’s shoulder, into the coffee shop. “But, can I squeeze past? I am getting stickier by the second-“ He lets out a purposefully dramatic sigh. “I think I’m going to have to face my fears and brave a New York City public restroom.”

Blaine laughs again, but his smile falters, and he worries his lip between his teeth.

God. He doesn’t want this interaction to be over. He doesn’t want Kurt to leave. He needs more time.

As Kurt starts to step around him, Blaine blocks his path.

“Wait-”

[jmagnabo92]

Sailing to Freedom - Ch 10 - One Last Chance

@aroyallybigbangrwrb

Alex gives his mom one last chance to do the right thing before making a decision on whether or not he should follow through with their plan to expose the lies with Liam and Pez.

AO3

***

September 25th, 2020

As soon as they make it into port with cell signal, Alex sends his mom a message about needing to talk to her.  He also sends a text to the group chat with June and Nora stating that after talking to his mom, he wants to talk to them. 

Then he reaches out to Liam as Henry reaches out to Pez.  Time zones mean that it’ll probably be some time before they get anything back, so they decide to go out and enjoy Casablanca.  They don’t expect to get any attention since no one knew where they were going, but apparently, people have been on the lookout for SS Princess Dorothy which has been noted in the press as Henry’s yacht, and they were noticed by early afternoon.

Despite wanting to see more of the city and enjoy another date, the attention they’re getting is making them anxious and they figure it’s better to get back to the safety of their ship.  They still manage a photo though – a terrible tie and gaudy crown, but a tradition that they have yet to fail at any of their ports. 

Luckily, they had gotten responses from Pez and Liam, so by the time they’d gotten back to the ship, they could split up and talk to them alone. 

Alex makes himself at home in the kitchen, sitting on a stool all alone as he calls Liam on his computer.  Despite the somewhat awkwardness between them, Liam’s grinning when he appears. 

“Bout time I heard from you,” he teases.

Alex laughs.  “Yeah, well, I was kind of on an internet – cell phone blackout.  Although, I suppose I should’ve reached out to you sooner.  After you helped me out in January, and I realized how badly I screwed up with you –”

“Hey man, look, you got nothing to worry about,” Liam says, cutting him off.  “While I may have been upset for … a long time, I’m not anymore.  I get it – certain things make sense now.  Something about everything going on and the way you sounded so uncertain and confused when you asked if it meant something – well, it put things in perspective.  I know you well enough that things kind of clicked and … no apologies necessary.”

“God, you’re fucking amazing, you know that?  Aside from our conversation last January, we hadn’t talked for a year before that and here you are spotting that there’s articles questioning my character and defending me like it’s your job.  I can’t even say I deserve that sort of loyalty –”

“Of course you do!” Liam says, cutting in.  “You have no idea the effect you can have.  You were amazing all through school.  My best friend since we were four years old.  You never once abandoned me even when you were the star that everyone wanted, and I was the tagalong.  How many times did I overhear someone suggest you leave me behind only for you to tell them to eat shit and walk away?  I still remember the first time when we were twelve, you didn’t know I was there and I was sure that you’d leave me behind, only for you to say that and nearly get in a fight if it weren’t for Mr. Jackson intervening.  It meant the world to me, and you never faltered.  Like come on, man, you deserve loyalty in spades and it’s a credit to you that despite the fact that it’s been four years since graduation that the team (and some of your admirers) got together quickly to defend you when I asked.”

“That really means a lot, man,” Alex states, trying not to get choked up.  “Seeing everything that people were saying and then, seeing you jump in – I mean, you’re always my best friend, but I thought – it’s hard to imagine that with everything that happened between us that you might feel like maybe I hurt you too much to defend me.”

Liam sighs.  “I won’t say that it didn’t hurt me.  I kept hoping that even with you off to DC that you’d come to realize what was really going on with us.  I kept waiting for you to have that aha moment.  I wanted it to mean something to you, but I was too stuck in my own head to voice it.  I was worried that admitting I was gay and there was something there that we would never be able to come back if you didn’t feel the same way.  But you never did, and then I met someone else, and I took a step back to sort-of heal from a heartbreak I never thought I’d have.”

“I broke your heart and you still –”

“I realized after dating Spencer, who’s also bisexual, and that phone call that you probably were like him, in a way.  As in, maybe convincing yourself you’re straight or pretending to be straight because it’s easier to be America’s heartthrob as a straight man than as a gay or bisexual man,” Liam states. 

“Then I thought about how you’d do anything for your ma, and maybe you wanted to come out, but she might’ve asked that you didn’t.  You already had marks against you as it was when it comes to voters and whatnot – why add your sexuality if you don’t have to?  So, I realized that maybe I put you in an unfair position and I shouldn’t hold it against you.”

He pauses and shakes his head.  “And then, it was basically confirmed when that photo came out and they immediately tried to cover it up.  I knew, then, that something was up and that could’ve been part of the issue.  So, I had to do something – I guess, part of it was ‘cause I blamed your ma for why we never – why we’ll only ever be best friends, but the other part was because I felt bad for blaming you when I was just as dumb.  I never should’ve expected you to know what I was feeling, it wasn’t fair on you, you’re not a mind-reader.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath, he didn’t have to explain, not really, Liam already understands, but he still deserves something. 

“You’re right about that.  Most of it anyway.  I wouldn’t let myself think about what those nights with you were beyond best friends having fun together.  I was just … so overwhelmed with everything and I just – I didn’t want to face it because if I did … and it blew up in my face, then I don’t know how I would’ve survived till graduation without you.  And then, the campaign happened, which came with expectations – even the papers making assumptions about me and Nora – and my ma won, and I was the First Son with even more expectations, and I deliberately just didn’t think about it.  Put it completely out of my mind.  Just like I tend to do with everything that involves feelings and confronting potentially difficult things.  It’s not an excuse, and it doesn’t get me off the hook – because I did hurt you and deserved better than that –, but I knew what I had to do.  So, I focused on what I was meant to be and then Henry went and kissed me and threw my world out of whack.  Still, I – I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault that I was too afraid to say something, but it’s in the past, and since you were the one to make me realize I was gay, I feel like I gotta support you on your delayed bi – I’m assuming – awakening.  It sucks that it wasn’t me but as long as he does right by you, that’s all that matters, especially since I wouldn’t have found Spencer without the whole mess.”

“He does,” Alex admits.  “In fact, apparently, he’s been crushing on me since we first met but because I didn’t realize that I was bi and I thought he was a racist asshole (he’s not – long story), I started a one-sided rivalry with him, and well… somehow I ended up here on his boat, talking to you about the chaos of my life.”

Liam laughs.  “I’m here for it.  Honestly.  I think it’s hilarious – well, somewhat hilarious – and I’m dying to know the full story.  I assume you’re calling so that I can get the story and use it to help you.”

“As long as you’re game for it.”

“Oh, you know it.  I’m taking your ma keeping you in the closet personally and I wanna do whatever I can to help you.”

“Brilliant!”

***

“How’d the talk with Liam go?” Henry asks as Alex appears on the top deck to get some time in the water. 

They’ve decided to go a bit off the coast to go swimming but not far enough that they would lose signal since he still needs to talk to his mom.

“Well,” Alex says as he sits to apply sunscreen to Henry, who had immediately handed him the bottle.  “I still feel bad despite his assurances that apparently, I broke his heart.  He says it’s just as much as his fault for never saying anything and that we were probably better off because he wouldn’t want to be in the news for dating me, and how I had enough going on and how maybe my mom wouldn’t have even allowed it given what’s clearly going on and –” he stops and shakes his head as he applies the lotion to Henry’s back.  Henry probably doesn’t want to hear about what could’ve happened with Liam.  He’s just relieved that he and Liam could go back to being best friends like the silence between them for ages hadn’t happened.  “It doesn’t matter.  The point is, he’s game for it if things don’t change.”

Henry turns to look at him.  “You know it’s okay to talk about it, right?  If you want to discuss Liam and your conversation, I’m here to listen.  I told you about the blokes I was with.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.  You said yourself it was just sex with them, but with Liam we were – are – best friends and –”

“And I’ve never had an issue with you being best friends with Nora or the fact that your last kiss before me was her,” Henry states.  “You are deeply good friends with your exes, I’m okay with that.  I am aware of it, I know your heart, Alex.  I won’t get jealous if you talk about them or your time with them.”

Alex hadn’t realized that he is now best friends with two of his exes, which is strange, but if Henry doesn’t care…

“I just figured… Nora’s different… she’s a woman, so … and that, well, most present boyfriends wouldn’t want to hear about the one that should’ve been my bisexual awakening –”

“I’m fairly certain that we’ve established that we are not normal boyfriends.”

“That’s fair,” Alex states. 

He goes back to applying the lotion, relishing getting his hands all over Henry, as he tells him about Liam.  He’s more than happy to explain the situation and how they’re in a better place now.  He’s relieved that they could pick up where they left off.  He actually set up a date for after he talks to his mom, who hasn’t gotten back to him, so that they could hash out where they’re going from here.  He hopes that Henry and Liam will like each other. 

“And that’s it, so how were things with Pez and Shaan?”

Henry had needed to check in with Shaan so that he’s aware as Henry’s equerry of their plans.  So far, he’s been pretty mute on the chaos, ever the professional with taking Henry’s determination to stay away and be with Alex in stride.  He’s been told not to give certain information away to the crown or any others and has been obeying that despite the crown pushing back. 

“Things with Pez went rather well.  It’s not really a surprise.  He hadn’t considered a plan similar to Liam’s, though he’s game for it.  Apparently, he was half-convinced in lieu of discussions with us that we had agreed with the White House’s lies.  He just couldn’t fathom why your sister and best friend would lie on us like that.  I think it actually hurt his fancy of your sister a little bit.”

“She might be relieved at that,” Alex states, with a small chuckle.

Although June has enjoyed Pez’s gifts and attention, he knows she’s still far more interested in Evan, her boyfriend from college that she has been writing love letters to.  Ever since she confessed that she had come to the White House partially for him, he had been encouraging her not give up on love for herself.  It’s why she’d taken to writing more to Evan in recent months.  If it wasn’t for the secret of him and Henry, he probably would’ve been invited to the Lake House. 

He wanders what he knows about the situation, now…

“Yes, I do believe that Pez is not to be as lucky as I was with our fancies of the Claremont-Diaz siblings,” Henry teases, as he turns around for Alex to apply the lotion to his front. 

Technically, Henry can do that himself, but Alex can’t resist doing it.  He loves the excuse (as if he needs one) to have his hands all over Henry.  If the Alex of this time last year could see him now, he’d be very confused. 

“And Shaan?”

“Erm, well.  It wasn’t the best conversation.”

“It wasn’t?”

“He’s a bit frustrated.  Not with us or the crown, he knows that he’s secured in his position, if a bit bored fielding requests for my presence.  He’s got the answer down pat and he thinks the crown may be coming around.  Between Bea and my mum – yes, my mum, can you believe it – the Crown is slowly realizing that they’re stuck.  It’s obvious that we’re together and that we can sail off into the sunset without anything holding us back, but they’re holding onto the hope that the election will be more important enough to possibly entice us back into hiding.  They’re losing hope by the hour, though.”

Alex hums continuing his work with the lotion.  “If your mom’s on board, then why is he frustrated?”

“Oh, well, that he didn’t want to tell me.  He’s been ever the professional, as is his duty to me, but I was concerned about him, I admit, and he eventually told me that there was a conflict of interest that he didn’t inform me of for the hope that it wouldn’t come up.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging, baby, what conflict is that?”

“He’s involved with Zahra.”

Alex looks up from where he was rubbing lotion on Henry’s chest to his face to see if he was just messing around with Alex because there’s no way that Zahra could be in a relationship with Henry’s equerry and thinks that’s alright but then also think it’s some sort of ethical issue for Alex to be dating Henry.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, sadly not,” Henry states with a sigh.  “Apparently, they agreed that they would keep their personal and professional lives separate, and it wouldn’t cause issue, but she took issue with the fact that he knew about us all along after the DNC when she discovered our relationship.  They worked that out, but when she discovered that you’ve been with me since shortly after you stormed the palace and he didn’t tell her about what we’ve been wanting and how we aren’t hiding anymore, it caused a bigger issue…”

“Because Shaan’s bound to do what you want to do – no matter what it means to the crown or the White House – and it was Zahra’s idea to lie on us.”

Henry nods.  “The conflict has troubled him because this conflict will only continue regardless of us coming out or not.  We may want to do things that conflicts with what she wants and that’s an issue.”

Alex frowns.  “I’d hate to think that we’re causing an issue for them, but…”

“It was their own choice, just like this is ours,” Henry assures him.  “Given that there was already a conflict when you stormed the palace and he wouldn’t have told me at Zahra’s request, it’s not as if he hasn’t realized there’s an issue that he has to correct.  If he feels that his relationship is interfering with his job, then he has to make the correct decision for his life.”

“Does that mean that he’s going to quit on you?” Alex questions. 

His frown deepening at the mention of Alex’s storming the palace.  It sounded like Shaan and Zahra had made the decision for them and Alex’s refusal to leave was the only thing that made it possible to be here.  He didn’t like that thought.

“Not likely.”

At first, Alex can’t contemplate the other option if not quitting his job with Henry, but then, he realizes and says, “Oh, she’s going to hate me even more now.”

“She can’t blame you –”

“But she will,” Alex states. 

He knows it in his heart.  She’s been giving him bs since the DNC, since before – when she gave him that list of approved girls to be seen with and yelled at him about the hickey that Henry left after Berlin.  Now it all made sense, she wasn’t just angry about not knowing and the ‘ethical question’ as if Alex’s relationship had anything to do with ethics, after all it’s not as if he’s the president and Henry’s the King.  They’re just two people related to (in Alex’s case) temporary world leaders.  They’re merely figure-heads, their relationship has no bearing on any world relationships. 

Not like Zahra’s job and Shaan’s job.  The fact that they together decided to force the friendship as a way to appease the masses might have been due to their relationship.  The hours of tea trying to make a deal between the UK and the US could’ve been argued as an issue.  The fact that she probably used her personal relationship with Shaan when Alex stormed the palace to potentially make things at a permanent end… only for Shaan to cave at Henry’s command, which they were lucky Henry had heard Alex...  All of those things were possible.  There was a bigger ethical issue with them than Alex and Henry.

Actually, the fact that they tried to sell Henry and June without any ‘ethical’ concerns makes Alex think that it was never who they are to the world, but rather the fact that they’re both men.  Maybe Liam was right about Alex’s sexuality somehow being a problem and he doesn’t like the thought of that.

Henry grabs Alex’s lotion-soaked hands.  “Hey, whatever happens, we have each other, and fact is, we can hide from Zahra for as long as your mom’s president – even if that’s another four years.  And then, well, it won’t matter anymore.”

He’s right, of course.  They could disappear for a while, pop up in ports and surprise the world only to disappear again. 

But he doesn’t want to be in hiding – that makes it feel like the people against them win. 

“You’re right, but I don’t want that.  I want to be out and proud.”

“Then, so shall we be,” Henry assures him.  “Now come on, finish applying the lotion so that we can get some fun in the sun and water.”

“And forget about this mess for a while?”

“Exactly.”

***

September 26th, 2020

It’s early because it’s so late for his mom.  She’d messaged him that she would contact him at 10PM DC time without considering that it’s 3AM where he is.  It doesn’t matter, clearly, because she didn’t offer an alternative timeframe. 

So, here he is, at the desk in their bedroom at three in the morning.  Henry’s reading on the bed just out of sight of camera, there for emotional support. 

They both thought it better that Henry remains unnoticed and unseen if possible.  Playing on his mother’s sense of, well, being his mother to let him be heard and fix this mess. 

It’s her final chance.

One last chance.  That’s what he’d been willing to give before going forward with their plan. 

He hopes that she’ll listen, but even with June and Nora abandoning appearances in support of him, he hasn’t seen the White House change its’ tune. 

So, here he is.

The call connects at 3AM (or 10PM) on the dot. 

He tries to give a smile that he doesn’t feel when he sees his mom still dressed as if she’s being the president and not his mom.  He half-expected her to be in more casual clothing, but he supposes that, given the conversation, she might be thinking of this as more than a mother-son chat.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi, sugar.  How’re you doing?”

“Well, I’ve been better,” Alex states, plainly.  “You?”

“Frankly, sugar, I’ve been a bit stressed about the campaign.  Late nights, long days, more appearances since none of the White House Trio has been attending theirs, anymore.”

He would’ve if he hadn’t been banned, but he doesn’t say that.

“I didn’t ask them to stop going on appearances.”

“I didn’t say that you did, Alex, but your sister seems to think that it’s some sort of solidarity with you to skip out on appearances when we’re this close to the election.  I need the support from my family –”

“And you think I don’t?” Alex asks in a near demand. 

“Alex, you’re thinking emotionally instead of logically.  Logically, it doesn’t make sense to be causing all of this unnecessary chaos when all you had to do was stay in your room until the election was over.”

“You wanna talk logic, ma?  Logically, all you had to do was not lock me up and no one would’ve noticed anything was amiss enough to go searching through security cams just to find out what we’re hiding.  Logically, all you had to do was say nothing.  Ignore the photo and let people speculate.  Logically, you should’ve listened to your son and his wants with regards to his life and reputation.  Have you read the papers?  The articles?  The comments?”

“Yes, I have and while it’s unfortunate that people have assumed the worst about you and we plan to rectify everything later after the election, they wouldn’t have assumed the worst if you had just come home when the photo was discovered.”

It takes Alex a second for him to register what his mom is saying before he shakes his head.  “You really think that is the problem?  That I left rather than be locked up?  That I continued on my trip with Henry rather than you lying about our relationship to the world and using my sister and best friend to do it against my wishes?”

“Surely you understand that a scandal like this –”

“It’s not a scandal!  It’s two people who are figureheads, but not actual world leaders, who fell in love, and kept it a secret because we weren’t ready to come out.  We weren’t hiding because it was some sort of scandal, we just didn’t want the world to comment on what makes us happy.”

He pauses, before plunging into explaining all of the reasons – he has a list – that this wouldn’t qualify as a presidential scandal which goes on for at least fifteen minutes before finishing with, “It would have been scandal if it was you with the queen.  Or Henry’s mom, maybe.  But me and Henry?  We aren’t a scandal, and if we were then you know who else would be a scandal?  June and Henry.  And yet, you’ve been trying to push them forward as some sort of star-crossed lovers or some such nonsense.  You not only encouraged her to lie in interviews, but she had twice as many appearances as I did before you found out about me and Henry and decided to fire me and lock me away in my room.  Do you know what that looks like to me, ma?”

“You know that I’m not homophobic, and don’t you dare suggest that I am, Alexander.”  There’s a sternness to her voice that makes it clear that she’s aware how it looks, even if she stands by it.  “The situation with you and the prince is far different than it is for June and the prince.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.  Why are you denying it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, dismissively.  “It’s too late to change courses now.  So, I’d like for you to come home and give an interview about how you know it looks bad, but you aren’t dating the prince, you just needed a break from the stress of the campaign and to figure out your options since you left my campaign and the prince offered to go on holiday as friends.”

Alex is so stunned that he can’t even fathom this is real.  His mother had always promised that she’d never make them be something that they’re not, yet, here she is literally asking him to be something he isn’t. 

Does being president really mean that much to her?

“Did you know then?  That Zahra lied about me being okay with the lies and whatnot?”

“I assumed that you would come around to accepting that it was what was best.”

“Yeah, for you,” Alex scoffs.  “So, I guess asking you to do the right thing and correct the lies is out the window?”

“The right thing right now would be for you to come home and do as I ask.”

Now, he has his answer.  “No.  I won’t do that, and I guess now I know what’s more important to you between your career and your son and it’s certainly not me.  You always told us once that you’d never ask us to be someone we’re not – you told me when I was forced to come out to you that you wouldn’t make me do something I didn’t want to do.  That it was my choice and that you’d support me as long as I was 1000% sure that he is my future.  Well, he is, and I hope you realize that I’m not going to give him up just so you can be re-elected.”

Before his mom can even respond, he says, “Goodbye, mom and good luck.”

He exits the meeting with a sigh and ignores it when she calls him back right away.  She’s made her decision, and he knows his. 

Still, he sits there, sadly.  He always looked up to his mother, and between her and Raf, he’s really feeling let down lately.

He feels Henry’s presence within moments, his hands running down Alex’s arms in a soothing manner.  He gets up and hugs him burying his face in Henry’s neck. 

He feels Henry’s arms tighten around him, which gives him the sense of feeling loved and protected.  He knows that Henry’s too polite to rage about Alex’s mother and what she’s doing to him in the way that Alex wouldn’t hesitate to do if the roles were reversed.  Yet, he doesn’t have to say a word to be the comfort Alex needs. 

Still, he’s not going to sleep being this upset, so he leans back and says, “Wanna go for a midnight swim?”

“Anything you want, love.”

***

Hours later, it’s well passed noon even by DC time, when Alex finally calls the girls.  They’d already spoken and confirmed the plan with Liam and Pez, giving them all of their photos and the timeline of their relationship.  They didn’t care about privacy or holding things back to protect their images.  At this point, they want the world to know the truth. 

They’re happy and together.

Still, he needs to talk to his sister and Nora.  They were a party to the lies and his ruined reputation, and they need to air things out before their journey to Bridgetown, Barbados.  He doesn’t want this hanging out there.

This time, he’s in the kitchen.  He’d been wanting to cook something for dinner, and it helps make him feel a little bit more normal.  Plus, it’ll distract him enough that he’ll be able to have a civil conversation because he’s still very angry when he thinks about what they did – even if they’re blaming Zahra and his mother.

The call connects and he sees them together – looking anxious but trying to seem like they aren’t worried about him or the conversation.

“Alex!  Hi!”

“Hi guys,” Alex says, not quite looking at the camera.  “Figure we should talk considering…”

“I’m so sorry, Alex.  I let myself believe what I was told was the best, but I promise that as soon as I got your text and realized everything that I’ve dropped everything to make things right – I just …mom won’t listen and –”

“June, stop,” Alex states.  “I know that mom won’t listen.  She seems to be blaming me for leaving when that isn’t the problem, and I know if I hadn’t left or hadn’t had the space away from the White House to realize a few things that I might’ve fallen in line and done exactly what they asked you to do.  Fake dates and pretending that you’re dating the love of my life, but –” 

Here he pauses, unable to explain why he’s feeling what he’s feeling since if he’d been there, he knows that he would’ve jumped to following the company line.  Fake dates, read articles about how June and Henry are perfect together.  Pretend like America’s Sweethearts were together again even though he hasn’t felt that way about Nora in years.  Hell, he’d sooner return to being with Liam than Nora.  It's not that he doesn’t love Nora, it’s just… they’re friends and he doesn’t want more than that.

“But it’s different because we should’ve known better.  I never should’ve listened to Zahra; I should’ve made sure that it was what you wanted and refused to do it because it honestly makes no sense.  Why is it okay for me to date Henry but not you?  That implications are not pleasant.”

“Yeah, mom didn’t appreciate me pointing that out,” Alex states, tonelessly.  “It does feel that way though, especially when you consider that Henry and I made our feelings clear.  We thought the Crown would be the problem, not the White House.”

When he glances at the screen, he can see that June’s got tears in her eyes. 

“I wish I could take it all back.  Even the idea.  I never should’ve suggested it, but we were talking about what to do before we talked to you and – I just, I am so sorry.  You deserve so much better than how we’ve been treating you and I wish there was something I could do.  Protesting by not doing appearances hasn’t been working and making comments and what not just doesn’t feel like enough.”

Alex clears his throat.  “I appreciate the solidarity.  Not going on appearances probably would’ve helped better if it had been done after the DNC, but it still means a lot to me that you don’t want to cause me anymore pain.”

He pauses, before saying, “As for what you can do, honestly, other than talk to mom about doing the right thing – make her realize that whatever’s going on isn’t the answer – just the comments and working with Liam would be the best.  I gave him photos and the timeline of things, but maybe you could add your two cents?  You don’t have to do it with your own accounts, just maybe dummy accounts?  I don’t know…”

“We’ve made dummy accounts, but maybe that’s the problem,” Nora chimes in.  “As far as everyone’s concerned, we’re not defending you – only your fan club is.  Maybe the answer is to do it as ourselves.  If we step up, we may piss off Madam President, but it’ll show to the world that we think something’s up.  Maybe we could even stage dates with other people instead?”

“Wouldn’t that just put everything you’ve said in question?”

“Well, yeah, that’s the point.  If we start changing our tune, using our own accounts, people will question what we said initially.  That would open us up to pointing out the flaw in the situation.”

Alex thinks about it, it could work.  Although he’s not sure if people wouldn’t just assume that the girls are trying to take the heat off him.  Especially since it’s clear that they’ve backed off the campaign and its related to him. 

“I think it’s a great idea,” Henry says, appearing in the pseudo doorway.  He’d been off talking to Bea and his mom about the situation since he wanted to hear for himself that they have their support.  “It would throw everything into question, and it would leave an opening for the posts Liam and Pez will be making about us.”

“It could also hurt their reputations.  Make them seem like –” homophobes. 

He doesn’t have to say it.  It’s obvious.  If they admit to lying or do something to make it seem like they’re untrustworthy, then they could end up suffering, and regardless of the situation and their part in it, he still wants to protect them.  He wouldn’t want them to suffer for his sake. 

“It’s a fair ask, Alex,” June states.  “After all, it was our words that put you into this mess, it should be our words that get you out of it.  It doesn’t have to be ‘I lied, I never dated Henry’, it can be a post of the two of you cuddled up at the Lake House.  It can be a post about how only you could get Henry to sing karaoke.  It can be a post that compares the two of you to some other famous couple.  There are ways to nod at the issue and make it work to clear things up.”

“I suppose.”  Nothing would be better than admitting to the lies, but they would need his mom’s permission for that.

“I wish we could do more – admit to the lies,” June offers.  “But we can’t – not without mom agreeing and if she talked to you and didn’t agree, then well … I doubt she’ll listen to me.”

Alex nods.  “Yeah, she pretty much wanted me to come back to the White House and agree with the lies.  Pretend I just needed a break that I got burnt out between school, first son, and the campaign – oddly, that’s not far from the truth.  That fire under my ass definitely doesn’t help with anything.  I told her no.  I won’t do it, and she made her position clear…”

“I know.  I overheard her briefing with Zahra.  I knew then that we were going to have to figure things out differently.”  She pauses.  “Unless Zahra uses her in at the Monarchy that she claims she has to force you two to return.”

Henry tenses.  “She can’t.  She doesn’t have that kind of control.”

Alex looks over at him, even as he stirs their dinner.  “Did she try?”

“She did.  He felt duty-bound to tell me, and actually made the suggestion, which I shot down rather tensely.  I am not happy about it.”

Sometimes, he forgets that Henry is the boss around here, but by his tone, Alex has a feeling he reminded Shaan that he is the boss, not the other way around.

“Regardless, we are not returning.  We are, however, intending to leave for Barbados which will give us more than a week at sea.  So, if Alex is okay with it, then I think you two trying to do what you suggestion in conjunction with Liam and Pez’s efforts may be the answer to our problem.”

Alex closes his eyes and thinks through a list of pros and cons and comes up with more pros than cons rather quickly.

“Okay, I’m okay with it.  If this is what you wanna do to help, then, let’s do it.”

“Great,” June says, sounding relieved.  “I love you, baby bro.”

“Love you, too, Bug.”

With that, the conversation drifts into happier things and all Alex can think is that maybe things are going to get better after all.

[s4pphoiduser]

i am not beautiful (but i could be)—an unfinished seth gordon character study fic

A/N: i wrote this on the 29th of january, because i'd somehow gotten super attached to seth (and the idea of him i have in my head) eight years after i first read aftg, and i kept thinking i was going to add more but i'm stumped and stuck and still want to put it out anyway so...

Exy was something strange. Comforting, terrifying. It was the only thing Seth had ever really fought to know, but every day he woke up, he thought maybe it was the day he’d run—leave it behind.

It never was. He kept going back. Passcode, foyer, lounge room, locker room. He diligently—though that could be argued—put on his uniform, he played. He mostly listened to Wymack’s directions, he checked in with Abby when required. There wasn’t much he had in his life, let alone a constant, but there was exy.

First time he’d ever met Wymack, the man had his arms crossed over his chest and he had stared Seth down. Seth had barely kept himself from squirming and he was about ready to just walk out of the goddamn room when Wymack said, “You really could be something, kid, you know that?”

No, he did not know that.

His high school coach, Coach Lester, said he had potential. Whatever the fuck that meant. But high school was nothing. High school was just a playground. University was when exy got real, and Seth didn’t think he’d ever make it all the way there. No, that wasn’t right. He knew he’d never make it there. Not with his grades, not with how fucking poor he was. Coke and adderall could only pay for so much.

People like him didn’t go to university, and they sure as hell didn’t go for sports, sure as hell not for exy. People like him didn’t graduate and be something. Seth Gordon was never meant for greater things.

He’d scoffed. “Sure, mister. Next you’ll say I’ll go pro.”

Wymack had raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think you’ll make it?”

“What, you think otherwise?”

“Sure I do.” A beat. “Mr. Gordon, I’ve got a contract with me and it’s got your name on it. Palmetto State, five years.”

He probably should have turned it down then. Should have said, “Real nice of you, mister, but you don’t want me there. Two weeks in, I’ll be high as balls and when I’m frothing out the mouth after my latest ride on the fun train then you’ll see. I ain’t worth the trouble. You’ll see.”

But that wasn’t what had happened. He thought it through real fast, faster than he ever thought anything else through, faster than his brain worked on the court. He had five siblings, and only two that really meant more than shit-on-the-side-of-the-road to him. Well, technically he had six siblings but he’d figured in that moment that dead ones probably didn’t count when one counted their family. Anyone else would consult their family in such a big decision. He didn’t even know where the fuck Palmetto State was.

He’d figured, Anywhere’s better than here. A beat. Gotta be. …Right?

Wymack already had his hand outstretched, a thin file lightly held between his fingers. “Take your time to read it through.”

Seth had grabbed hold on the other end. You really could be something, kid, you know that?

Seth wasn’t much for trust, he wasn’t idiot enough to buy into things older men like Wymack said. His daddy left when he finally realized the Gordons weren’t worth shit, and when Wymack got that Seth was always going to be a fuck-up before he was anything else, then he’d let him go, too. But he could have this—for now.

Then Wymack had talked some more, but Seth didn’t remember it anymore. Sometimes he thought all the coke and whatever else had finally made their way to his brain. But he remembered this: “Ask your coach to fax it back to me.” Wymack was so sure even then that Seth would sign. Seth was a contrarian at heart and the certainty of Wymack’s tone made him want to tell him to fuck off. That he didn’t know shit, and shouldn’t go around assuming shit.

He went to the shitty convenience store he worked part-time at, bought a pack of cheap cigarettes and went through the file. He didn’t understand what most of it meant but he didn’t think any of it was all that important anyway. PSU would hold the same rules and regulations as any other well-respected educational space. Some words stood out to him: Drugs… prohibited… subject to tests… full-ride… scholarship… Nothing else mattered. He signed his goddamn name on the goddamned dotted line and stuffed the file back into his backpack.

It was getting colder again as the sun set. Seth couldn’t bring himself to go home, though the papers didn’t mean anything had changed. It was only February, and he still had three more months to go. Four, if he counted the one month of summer he’d have to wait until he got to fuck off out of here. He smoked half the pack before he pulled himself together enough to get up and walk home.

His hands had a slight tremble to them as he twisted the knob on the front door, his body shaking with an emotion he couldn’t name. He did his best to swallow it before he entered.

“Where the fuck have you been at.” His mother was never affectionate, but now she was angry. Or something. She was perpetually angry at him now, and he, at her. The anger went round and round in this house, always her yelling at him, and him, yelling back at her. Violent screaming matches were all he’d ever known, and it was easy for him to slip the anger on, to wear it like a second skin. It always came naturally to him, and maybe that was why his mother was always so angry at it—it was the only part of her that she’d manage to pass onto him. Everything else was him, or his father.

“Out,” he sneered, “None of your business.”

“It is as long as you live under my fucking roof!”

It always escalated fast. He was tired today. He had practice, then he had Wymack sprung onto him and a bunch of papers shoved into his hands. He didn’t have the energy to fight her today. Tomorrow, maybe.

When he didn’t respond in words, she took his glare in stride and grinded out menacingly, “I can’t wait for the day you get the fuck outta here.”

Yeah, same. He bared his teeth in a grin. “Soon,” he promised.

He didn’t know if he’d last a year at Palmetto but he didn’t need to. So long as he got a chance to leave all this shit in the dust, it was good enough for him. He’d figure it out. He always had.

May brought with it graduation, and a hot summer. Seth had graduated near the bottom of his class, not that it surprised anyone. None of it mattered anyway, he was already signed to PSU, and he’d be there in less than a month. He had a bus ticket stuffed between his mattress and bed frame, and nobody knew about it. Yet. They’d know when he left with his bags.

Speaking of bags… He hadn’t packed his shit yet. There wasn’t much to be packed, but he was still attached to the meager belongings he owned. He’d take his nice shirts and pants and jeans. All things exy-related would be waiting for him in the locker that said GORDON on it. Exy gear made just for him. For the first time, there was a strange fire lit in him. The flames licked at his heart and he wanted this to work so badly he thought he’d choke on it.

Wymack’s words came back to haunt him again, as they had over the past few months. You really could be something, kid, you know that? No, he couldn’t be anything. He could play but according to his 6-minute Internet browsing, he’d be on PSU’s first ever exy team. And there would be hundreds of collegiate players out there better than him. Wymack was wrong. He wouldn’t ever really amount to anything, but no one ever said he couldn’t give it a shot.

On the 6th of June, he had his two bags ready—one big duffel bag and one moderately-sized suitcase—and his bus ticket burning a hole in the pocket of his cargos.

Justin blinked his big eyes up at Seth. “Where are you going?”

Seth looked at his little brother then. “Out to see the world, kid.”

“Where?” Insistent.

“I’m gonna go play exy in South Carolina,” he told the kid.

“Where’s that?” His brother was eight. Of course he didn’t know where South Carolina was.

“A couple hours away.” He knelt down to kiss the top of his brother’s head. “You be good while I’m gone.”

When Seth pulled away, Justin kept him close with a hand holding tight onto his shirt. “When will you come back?”

Seth didn’t want to lie to the kid. So he said, “I don’t know.” It was the truth. He didn’t think he’d come back for holidays, and he wouldn’t be back in Alabama unless he’d have to play a game in the state. He wouldn’t come back here at all.

Then he left. He had almost made it to the front door when a voice stopped him. “What the fuck are you doing.” His mother rarely asked; she demanded, or said. She didn’t ask. Today was no different.

He set his suitcase by the door. “I’m getting the fuck outta your hair.”

“You ungrateful little—”

“I’m leaving for real,” he said, “Never coming back.”

She scoffed in disbelief. “You won’t make it a week on the streets!” she threatened.

Seth couldn’t understand why. She hated him, and he hated her. She’d named him after his father out of some misplaced love, and when the man left, she couldn’t bear to look at him for a good two weeks and when she finally did, she had called him Seth. he was no longer Bryan. She should be relieved he was leaving.

He dug around for the anger that was always thrumming just under his skin, but he couldn’t find it. All he found was the strange calm that had settled over him, his relaxed shoulders and his steady voice. “I won’t be on the streets.”

Seth realized that if he thought anger was all he had, he was wrong. He also had spite. He was also bitter. Her crumbling face was the most satisfying thing he’d seen his entire life.

“What?” she asked. Barely a whisper.

“Going to college, Mom,” he spat. “Yeah, you heard that right. Crazy, ain’t it, son of a bitch like me in college? And that’s not the best part either. This is: I’m going on an exy scholarship. Yeah, Mom, they’re paying me to be there. Fuck you.”

She laughed. Incredulous and hysterical. “You!” she wheezed between her laughs, “You! You?! You’ll be back here in a week when they find out you’re a good-for-nothing junkie. All you want’s the high! You ain’t good for shit, Seth, and you’ll remember that soon enough. But don’t come back. I never want to see your fuckin’ face again. You get kicked out that school, you go somewhere else and die quietly.”

“I ain’t comin’ back here, Mom.”

“I don’t ever wanna see your face again,” she said again, red-faced. She still had that nasty shadow of a laugh on her face.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Get the fuck out my face.”

[murphysreruns]

26 • THEY/SHE • EYES RODGERS

Q: Can you tell us a bit about yourself? Just the basics.

❝ hello. i'm neon. i'm neularian--that's another term form nonbinary, it's just a little more descriptive of presentation, rather than gender. i was born on january 28th. i'm a data analyst specializing in astronomy. and i'm autistic. i think that covers everything?

Q: Where did you grow up? Have you ever moved? Tell us a little bit about your family, if you feel comfortable.

❝ i was made in a small appalachian town the day after a funeral for a mutual friend of my parents. at least that's what i was told. we moved while i was still a baby to astoria, oregon, where i grew up. my little brother was born there. we lived like normal people--well... as normal as we could, but i'll talk about that in a second. we lived like normal people, but we were actually really wealthy. i didn't know that until i was an adult, though. but anyways. we were wealthy because my dad was some really affluent nepo tech bro with a rich ass tech-dad. i never met my grandpa, but that was the deal. my dad's incredibly smart. it's where i got it. he had an addiction to keeping media, and knew his way around a computer. my mom was his total opposite. kind of a crunchy granola type, who foraged and reused and recycled everything--and everything she couldn't recycle, she turned into art. and don't get me started on her love of bugs. they're both where i get the autism, too. my little brother is named chester, and he has autism too. he's mostly nonverbal, and also really smart. he takes after my mom a lot. while i never moved, i've been on a road trip for the last few months. it's been fun, and greenview is beautiful. maybe i'll stay a while.

Q: You said you were smart like your dad. Can you tell us your education history?

❝ yeah. i went to public school. i skipped a couple grades, graduated early, valedictorian. i went to college, graduated with honors. i don't really want to brag too much about it. i did meet my ex there, though. in high school i mean. we stayed together until a few months ago.

Q: If you had to describe your personality in a few words, what would you say?

❝ hmm. this is a bit of a hard question. i guess i'd consider myself intelligent. that's one thing. adventurous, obviously. hmmm.... hardworking? i like to think so, anyways.

maybe... i should probably do negatives too, right? i'm a little deadpan, and i... have issues committing. to people. total opposite of my parents. it's nothing against people, it's just that i'm a little asocial. ...okay, so maybe that one's a little like my dad.

Q: Can you describe some aesthetics that apply to you?

❝ mmm. i don't know... you know those glow star stickers? those on a ceiling. taking the back roads for a better views. ...heavy eyebags from nights spent awake, under eyes always looking to the sky. wow... i didn't know i could be so poetic.

Q: Only one more question. Everyone has a secret. What's some of yours?

❝ … i don't know. is this. is this going to be publicized?

[i love my partner. i do. but... the idea of getting married freaks me out. so... i ran. it's all i could think to do. i don't want to commit forever.]