#the longer i stick with neil the more happy i am with keeping it though....

[t3tr0m1n0]

well folks i've finally bit the bullet as a Iemon demon fan & named an oc neil

[neutron-stars-collision]

Closer

Neil x F!Reader

Summary: Plot what plot.

Warnings: 18+ (and I really mean it this time), they're both trying to dominate and I've no clue what's going on.

Author's Notes: Suppose this is what happens when an image won't leave you alone and you crave a self-indulgent one-shot... I don't even know, but this took remains of my sanity. Challenged myself with more graphic and this is what we ended up with.

Thank you Shet for reassurance through writing this and not having enough of my whining.

Feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy!

It is always the same. That brilliant idea to go for lunch and do a round of sightseeing in the afternoon because surely it wouldn’t be too bad. Right?

Well, whoever thought of that was owed an excruciating death in the fires of Hell. Or Orcus, as would be more appropriate for the current location. Who knew the Italian coast transforms into the Death Valley over summer? Sighing with exasperation, you waited not so patiently as Neil slipped the key card into the door and opened the room with a typical flourish. Feeling the constant trickle of sweat down your back, you pushed him inside unceremoniously and let the door close with a thud. As the cold air enveloped your body with the sweetest of embraces, you could not hold back a pleased groan.

“Fuck” the curse not enough to express the internal pain “Jesus fucking Christ, I hate this heat,” accentuating the meaning you aggressively lowered the aircon temperature to 18C “Did I mention that temps above 25 Celsius should be made illegal?” remembering about Neil’s presence, you glared at him.

It was his shit idea in the first place. And you were never letting that one go. He was staring at you with amusement glimmering in the blue eyes. Another reason to punch him in the teeth. Or something.

“More or less twenty times within the last hour, why?” answering your question, he opened the minibar and took out a bottle of water.

Nonchalantly perching on the desk, he took a longer sip, still watching you with curiosity. No remorse whatsoever over the tortures he put you through. Annoying.

But not more so than the sweat still running down your skin, making the fabric stick to your body in places you never deemed possible. When leaving the hotel three hours ago, the linen shirt sounded like a good idea. Now, with half of it drenched, you were sure nudity was the only viable option to go outside. Groaning with frustration, you tugged at the garment, grimacing at the feel of the damp fabric.

“God, everything just feels… wet” uttering the word with loathing, you added, “Like soaking wet,”

That got Neil’s attention. He glanced up with the lips slightly parted, one eyebrow raised.

“Everything?” a quick scan of your body, swallowing hard as though the suggestion triggered thirst that no water could quench.

Uh-huh. The irritation too high to give in just yet. Instead, you allowed yourself to sweep your gaze over his form leisurely. The only sign that he too was bothered by the heat was the glistening forehead and flushed cheeks. The usually fluffy mane tamed, strands sticking to the temples. Still devilishly handsome. With the long legs crossed and the blue polo shirt perfectly bringing out the colour of his eyes, he looked godly. Unfair. Prompted by that thought, you closed the distance and snatched the chilled water bottle out of his hand:

“It’s not like you’d get it, though. Even soaked in sweat you look like a bloody… male Aphrodite” throwing in the slight, you quickly downed the rest of the water.

Another look at your boyfriend was enough to assure you the metaphor worked. Neil was gaping at you, utterly puzzled, and then slowly looked down as if to check himself out. You snickered when he lifted the edge of the shirt and touched his abdomen with a dream-like expression. Fondly: idiot.

“Is that an insult or a compliment? Because I admit I lost you there” shaking off the stupor, he met your watchful gaze with a frown.

It was difficult to stay mad for much longer. And so…

“Whichever one you want,” shrugging, you unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to the ground, “I need a shower. ASAP”

Without waiting for Neil to respond, you started taking off the shirt. With a disgusted sound, you threw it next to the skirt and positioned yourself underneath the AC. Still too many clothes. The noise of plastic bottle hitting the bin and then:

“Whoa…” the playful tone making you look up straight into the mischievous sparks in Neil’s eyes, “That’s giving me all sorts of ideas” he eyed you slowly, gaze taking in your body clad only in underwear.

Not that it was anything new. And usually, you would play along with pleasure, curious about where it might lead you this time. Now, however, that fire of annoyance burning bright still needed tending. And shower sounded much better than whatever Neil might offer.

With a huff, you reached to unclasp the bra and let it join the carnage in the hallway. One look at his hungry expression was enough to prompt an idea. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and, without leaving time to react, pressed the bathroom handle:

“I won’t lock the door” an off-hand remark rather than an invitation.

But you knew it would work. It always did.

Once inside, thanks to the striptease you indulged in, all that was left was to take off the panties and step into the shower. You turned on the rain head and sighed with happiness when the chilly water cooled off your body. That is what bliss felt like. You closed your eyes, contented enough to stand under the running water. Grounding yourself in the feeling of your palm pressed firmly to the tiled wall. A smug smirk spreading on your lips when, finally, you heard the bathroom door open and close. So predictable.

You kept your back turned to the entrance to the shower, eyes closed if only to keep up the act of mild irritation. Not so mild, in fact, but enough not to give Neil satisfaction by throwing yourself in his arms. He would have to work a little to get something out of it.

At first, a tentative touch running up your spine in the familiar expression of his presence. Enough to trigger the light flicker of passion. With the cold water, it was easy to pretend the goosebumps were not his accomplishment. Encouraged by your stillness, Neil took a step, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. A traitorous gasp swallowed with effort. You heard him chuckle lowly while slowly caressing your body. A puff of warmer air against the side of your neck:

“Ever since I saw you in that sundress, I wanted to do this,” Neil whispered the confession with confidence.

Lips grazing over the shell of your ear, alighting the nerve endings with precision. You knew which dress he meant. The clothing choice from a day earlier, haunting with an accompanying pride. Good to know.

“What exactly?” feigning nonchalance, you kept your hands pressed against the wall and the glass window.

For now, it was easy to ignore the need slowly pooling in your lower stomach. You wanted to keep on playing the game a little longer. To see how far he was willing to go.

Neil tightened the grip, winding both of his arms around your waist. No space left between you.

“Pull you flush against me,” the explanation complemented with a brave sweep of hand over your stomach “Feel your skin and curves under my fingertips” instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, the desire building up steady “Feel the way you shiver whenever I touch you like this” his fingers teasingly running up and down your navel.

The assumption was enough to give back that spark of annoyance. A fight to keep up the role a little longer. Struggling with the overwhelming breathlessness, you whispered back the question:

“Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit?” you reached behind you to run a ghostly touch over his hipbone.

Feeling the skin and the relishing in the shallow gasp. In retaliation, Neil let his hands venture higher, cupping your breasts and circling the nipples. Fuck. At that move, there was no way of stopping the shudder running through your body.

“Am I?” you heard the amusement in his voice, palms executing death perfectly.

Nothing left to do but sigh and press up against him in search of fulfilment. But the teasing was far from finished. You felt his lips experimentally glide over the nape of your neck, collecting the water droplets and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Searching for support, you firmly placed your hand on his hip, gasping at the feel of him pressing into your backside. The hardness never failing to cause a rush of excitement flowing through your body. As though sensing your growing arousal, Neil continued the teasing in a low, soft tone:

“I wanted to kiss down your neck, graze my teeth over your perfect skin” making his words come true, he trailed kisses down the nape of your neck.

A sigh each time he lightly bit your shoulder, a groan with every single butterfly touch along your shoulder blades. Carefully tiptoeing the line between animalistic passion and tender caress that seemed to define your relationship. Only this time, with anger still fresh on your mind, you began getting impatient, suddenly eager for him to speed it up. To give you something more substantial.

Using the strike of courage, you reached your hand further back, curious fingers dancing over him in the mildest of provocations. To give him a sign that patience was running thin. It worked for Neil let out a strangled groan and stopped the careful study of your neck with a painful hickey over the pulse point. That was bound to leave a deep red mark. He did not give you time to react, pulling you somehow even closer and delving the hand between your legs with ease:

“To slip my fingers between your thighs and feel how wet you are because of me,” the sentence murmured with an unmistakable tint of want hazing his mind.

He wasted no time, instantly parting your folds, collecting the arousal, and spreading it to ease whatever was bound to come next. The feeling was familiar yet still clouding your brain with need. Because now even the cold water was not helping the rising temperature. Nothing left to lose. Time to give in and take what he would offer. As he repeated the torturous move, barely touching your clit or putting pressure on the throbbing parts, you decided to take matters into your hands.

“And?” using the question as a distraction to encircle his wrist.

And raise the offensive hand to your lips. Licking his fingers clean before the water could. A sharp gasp told you it worked. Using the momentum, you turned around in his embrace and met the shocked, darkened gaze with a smirk of your own. Neil glanced at your lips as though tempted to collect the remains of your taste from them and locked his eyes with yours:

“Get down on my knees and have a taste of my favourite drug,” a murderous glint within the blue depths.

Knowing well enough how much you enjoyed that. How often you would ask for it.

Your thighs clenched on their own accord, anticipation heightening the senses. To find a brief relief, you rose on your toes and crashed your mouth into his, knowing Neil would meet you halfway. The tumultuous kiss filled with chaos, hunger, and need, betraying the love underscoring every other adjective befitting your connection. The tongues easily slipping in, curling around each other, seeking the ultimate pleasure.

“What’s stopping you?” after a long snog, you broke the contact and panted out, resting your forehead against his.

Allowing yourself a second of gentleness. Admiring the affectionate look in Neil’s eyes, you slowly caressed his body. Returning the previous torments with your dose of playfulness. Letting him remember that you were not the only one that was so ready. That the attraction was mutual, and you knew that very well. Explorative touches down his length, enjoying the way he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to find the lost thread. After a beat, he met your gaze once again. The darkness startling.

“Nothing” using a second of hesitation, Neil took your courageous hand in his and searched your face, “Only… say please” the satisfied smirk added the wicked gleam to his face.

You considered scoffing and pushing him out to keep the pride intact. But… with the core practically dripping with the need for a release, that had to be forgotten. Clenching your jaw to stop the shame from springing up, you uttered the word with apprehension:

“… Please,” making sure to show him the extent of annoyance.

A retaliation already forming in your mind. Revenge would be sweet.

“Good girl” thought processes cut short with the two words.

Oh fuck. Simple, yet more effective than anything else. A jolt of want passing through your body as Neil tipped your chin, arrogantly pleased with himself. He could read you like a book, knowing well what praise would do. This time there was no holding back. No shame or reluctance.

“You fucking-” spitting out the words with annoyance, your rant got stopped with a finger pressed firmly against your lips.

“Shush,” the stern tone, shutting you up with yet another wave of arousal.

The steel look in Neil’s eyes only increasing the sensation. It was bound to get interesting. As if drawn by your dark stare, he closed the gap and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The water, running down, slipping in the gap between you, failing to satisfy the craving. Prodded by the sudden flash of need, you let your teeth catch Neil’s lower lip and tugged at it forcefully. A clear signal to stop stalling. Ending the contact with a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, he met your wild gaze with a calculating assessment. You knew the game well, frozen by the multitude of feelings. Not that it would’ve made him speed up. He enjoyed the control too much to give in.

A final searching look, your hand helplessly clinging to the gaps between the tiles.

“The louder, the better, you know that” brushing his nose over your ear, he whispered the command huskily.

Another reason to hold on tight. A flare-up of anger within your chest, mixing with the increasing frustration.

“I hate you,” you got as far as seething out the sentence before the voice died in your throat.

Neil grinned and lightly pushed you at the wall to give himself the needed space. Without wasting a moment, he started leaving kisses down your body. Gentle pecks on the shoulders, softening the previous damage. Tongue swirling around your nipples, causing a whimper to escape through your parted lips. Your free hand instinctively latched onto his head, finding an anchor in the wet blonde strands. Slowly, Neil inched his way down, kneeling at your feet, hands running up your thighs, creating sparks in their wake.

“Let’s see how long that holds true” he looked up, nothing but a smug smile and dark, hungry eyes.

Fucked. Terrifyingly so.

There was no time to react as he left a trail of kisses up your thighs, getting closer yet taking his time. And then, something you would never get tired of. The first, experimental kitten lick along your slit, parting the folds and spreading the arousal. As if that was needed. Lapping up everything you were offering and making you tighten the grip over his hair. Shocks passing through your body upon every single touch of his tongue. As you yanked on his mane with force, letting out a string of curses, Neil raised his head. Your eyes were drawn to the glistening lips which he licked clean with an unhidden expression of delight.

“God, how I love this taste,” the compliment aimed with lethal precision, satisfaction lighting up his eyes.

Only to pick up the action the very next second. Temperature constantly rising, no mercy given. It only got worse when Neil added his skilful hand to the mix. Stroking the clit, eliciting moans and gasps. Your eyes screw shut, focusing on the way it felt when his finger entered you and started curling inside in search of that sweet spot.

“Jesus fuck” the profanity escaping when he added the second digit, all the while letting his tongue circle the sensitive bud.

Chuckle vibrating through your core, the unoccupied hand contradicting the moment with tender strokes along your hip. As if to soothe and support.

The haze, getting heavier, overcasting everything with the tint of need. For a release. For that high, the explosion of pleasure you were slowly edging. The scales tipped with two fingers curling inside you, hitting the most sacred of places, and Neil’s lips sucking on the clit without moderation. Taking everything with eagerness and delectation.

With the heat almost unbearable and the edges of your vision darkening, you could only pull at his hair with force and rasp out:

“Neil, I can’t-” the intent lost in the outburst of pleasure.

Every nerve, existing to receive what Neil was offering. Every cell, burning with ecstasy. You could feel the incoming wave, ready to succumb to it without a fight. Until he raised his head once more, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers, everything synced up perfectly.

“Come… on. For me,” the emphasis not escaping your overflooded mind, gaze meeting his helplessly, “Don’t be shy” a whisper, darkness tinting the vowels.

The feeling of defeat, adding a dose of shame into the whirlwind, fuelling the ideas of vengeance.

But there was no time to concentrate when Neil finished the act with the third finger easing in. Tipping you off the edge with a piercing cry and a desperate tug on his hair. The strength of the pull making him groan loudly, tongue collecting the arousal with frantic moves. Pleasure flooding your vision. Nothing but the water, Neil, and his body, solid beneath your shaking hands.

Your knees buckled, the force of the aftershocks ripping through your system. Feeling the high course through the veins, you shut your eyes and let out quiet whimpers, unable to process the reality. Sex with Neil was always memorable, but it has never been this intense. Especially only for an entrée.

Feeling your body relax, Neil retracted the hand and placed a final kiss on your clit with saintly reverence. You opened your eyes in time to see him look up, the dark blue irises rimmed with long dark eyelashes. Adoration. Want. Weak from the strength of that release, your legs wobbled as you tried to change position. Foot slipped on the slick tiles, and you already anticipated the fall when an arm wound around your waist, pulling you upright. Startled, you barely comprehended when he got up and saved you, making use of the smooth moves and long limbs.

“Got you,” a whisper against your temple as Neil hugged you close, cradling your body with care, “Always” his gaze met yours, tenderness overshadowing every other feeling.

On reflex, you mirrored his soft smile in an expression of gratitude. For much more than saving your ass from the bruises. Despite the maelstrom of emotions, you gave in to the gentle moment and returned the embrace, pressing your cheek against his chest. Listening to the fast, familiar heartbeat, you whispered:

“You nearly killed me just now,” the breathless tint only giving evidence to the statement.

It’s not like he wouldn’t know. With screams like those, he had to. Neil chuckled, one of his hands venturing up to cradle your head, the other tracing shapes onto your back. Water flowing down with the steady stream, enveloping your embraced bodies in comfortable warmth.

“That wasn’t the intention,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of your head.

You could hear the pleased tone there, indicating what you suspected. Following the playful thread, you leaned back enough to meet his gaze and asked:

“What was it then?” a hand running through his hair, watching the strands darken when wet.

At the roots, his natural light brown colour was beginning to show, adding a surprising edge to his startling physique. For you, that meant another evening soon spent sat on the edge of the toilet seat, laughing at his attempts at dying the hair on his own. Those were fun moments.

Catching your absent gaze, Neil tipped your chin to bring you back to the present and then grinned:

“To show you how much I adore you,” the simple answer laid with a soft kiss on your lips, signing off the sentiment.

You opened your mouth to let his tongue in instantly, breathing in the air he was willing to share and relishing in the familiarity of the moves. Lips slowly gliding over each other, tongues caressing and teasing. This one was filled with tenderness, an expression of love and devotion rather than hunger. A breather.

Not for long. Using the kiss as a distraction, you switched the positions, making sure Neil would have his back pressed against the wall. For convenience’s sake. Breaking the contact, you whispered the single-worded response:

“Mutually,” unable to wipe the devilish smirk from your face, you waited for a beat to let him catch up.

Those widening eyes were a perfect cue to grin with satisfaction at the perfectly executed setup for the payback. Neil stared back at you with confusion deepening on his face, slowly taking in the reality. Finally, a single word, a prelude to the mountain of questions:

“What-” his brow furrowed, giving you the needed moment to step in.

“Vengeance,” you winked, and wasting no time, lowered onto your knees, “Let me just… now that’s a wonderful view” shifting into the most comfortable position, you gave him a long admiring look from the new vantage point.

It really was. Never failing to make you that tiny bit more eager and hungrier since the first time. Especially when knowing what he is capable of.

The flood of specific memories flushing up your cheeks and giving needed courage to begin. You glanced up, searching for consent, and met Neil’s hazed stare. He seemed transfixed as if already well under your spell, one of his hands mirroring your desperate move from minutes prior, clinging to the tiles in search of support. You raised an eyebrow in the silent question. Yes?

Please. The fervent nod accompanied by the way he swallowed hard was all you waited for.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked your lips thoroughly, all the while using your hands to stroke him lightly. Enough to elicit a gasp. Emboldened by the reaction, you opened your mouth, letting out a warm puff of air to tease him. Neil groaned, the free hand reaching out to cup your cheek with tenderness you did not anticipate. As if distracting himself, he brushed away the damp strands of hair sticking to your face and brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. Gratitude. A signal to start.

A few kitten licks along the length, letting him get used to the sensation. Sharp exhales, muscles tensing. Upping the game, you started focusing on specific areas, using the sound cues and the way his hand tightened the hold over the nape of your neck. Now and then, you would look up to see the darkened pupils and lips parted in the purest expression of pleasure. The furrowed brow and the clouded gaze, telling you when the right time was to bring his tip into your mouth. Gently swirling your tongue around the head, savouring the taste with quiet hums. Stroking the shaft with one hand, you used the other to rake your fingernails over his abdomen. Returning the markings he inflicted earlier.

The string of curses leaving his lips amongst the moans and groans was a good indication that it worked. Noticing the hint of impatience in how he quivered, hips thrusting on an impulse, you slowly inched your mouth down his length, enveloping him as far as you could without it becoming uncomfortable. The answering loud moan told you it was exactly what he needed. Meeting his dark stare, you nodded, permitting him to start moving his hips. The adoration meeting desire in his eyes as Neil sped up. Adjusting to the pace he needed, you started sucking on him. Cheeks hollowed, tiniest of moans drawn out to let him know you enjoyed the act, tongue collecting everything he was giving, anticipating the end with a familiar heat pooling between your thighs once again. Because seeing him like this, was more exciting than you deemed possible.

Then his thrusts got sloppier, knuckles of the hand clinging to the gaps in the tiles whitening; groans replacing any other sound. Soon. Suddenly he seemed to sober up a notch, blinking twice as though forcing the brain to work and then rasping out:

“God, I’m going to-” the meaning interrupted by a whimper when you took the opportunity to increase the pressure by a notch.

You could see the ridiculous dilemma flash in the blue eyes as if he worried about something like that. As if he has not just devoured you like the god’s nectar. Certainly, an idiot. Continuing the bold strokes with your hand, you made sure to meet his gaze before echoing the encouragement:

“For me,” a hint of recognition reflected at you, adding the mischievous tint to your smile, “Please,” grinning widely, you quickly put your mouth back to the task.

Intensifying every move to make sure he would be satisfied. It did not take long. Neil moaned out your name breathlessly before he tensed and came with a shudder ripping through his body. The hand cupping your cheek fell onto your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh with the force of the release. Swallowing every drop of what he gave you with delight, you made sure to show him the extent of satisfaction in your gaze.

Once Neil was done, he leaned heavily on the tiled wall, quick breaths escaping through the parted mouth. Eyes still clouded yet watching you constantly with evident fascination. Licking your lips clean, you accepted the hand he reached out to pull you up. Resting your palm over his racing heart, you leaned in close to whisper:

“Every inch a gentleman, I see” an appreciative glance down, as if he could miss the innuendo.

His eyes flashed, the familiar darkness creeping at the edge of the blissful fatigue. To your advantage, there was still a moment left of this more subdued Neil. Afterwards? Who knows. The spark of excitement lit up in your chest as you closed the gap and took him by surprise with a heated kiss. Pushing him further up against the wall and taking the lead with your tongue instantly prodding him to open. The grip on your laced hands, tightening as Neil started reciprocating the kiss with an equal eagerness. As if you both have been starving for each other. There was never quite enough oxygen to fulfil needs, and so, after few long minutes interrupted with stolen breaths and fleeting pecks, you broke apart, staring at one another with awe. Neil’s eyes wandered over your face with almost dream-like enchantment written all over.

“Wow,” he breathed out the word with a small smile creeping on the edge of his lips.

It was difficult not to grin back, overwhelmed with love for the man. With your heart close to melting from the tenderness and softness, you chose to strike:

“Is that all the praise I’m going to receive?” quirked eyebrow and feigned dismay.

If only to push him where you needed him to be. Because as much as this gentle and affectionate side of your relationship was everything you could have asked for, currently, you needed more. More than this. Using the palm pressed firmly against his chest, you trailed your fingers south, watching with satisfaction at the tiniest of twitches, betraying the hidden desire, confirming the assumptions. As if slowly waking up from the daze, Neil caught your curious fingers in his and raised your hand to lay a kiss on your knuckles. The playful glimmer already there.

“I’m afraid you stole my breath away. Again” a shrug with an apologetic tint to the tone.

As a contradiction to the meekness acted out, he let go of your hand and wound his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Pressing your bodies against each other, every curve and edge fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. Like two halves of a whole. You glanced up at him, trying to judge the current mood, finding nothing but beauty. The wet hair, sticking to the forehead, water dripping down the slope of his nose and onto the bruised lower lip. Up this close, he looked as if he belonged in Michelangelo’s workshop, fine features chiselled with precision. Ocean blue eyes framed with long and dark eyelashes drawing you in, the longer you kept on staring. Mouth curled up in a soft smile as if even the sight of your lovesick gaze was something he wanted to commit to memory.

With a sight like that, there was only one thing you could do. Feeling the need pulse in your veins, you reached out to turn off the water. It was time to act. Neil looked at you questioningly as if willing to follow the tempo you were about to set. Biting down on your lip, you met his gaze with poise.

“Good. Because that was rather… enjoyable” lowering down your voice, you noticed how his eyes widened; using the tricks learned from Neil himself, your hand ventured down once again “I love how you taste. The way you shiver as I make you come apart” as your fingers danced along his length, he gasped, a shudder running through his body “Sculpted by the gods yet falling into pieces at my command” whispering out the punchline, you gently stroked him to elicit a groan.

A satisfying response. Feeling courage surge through your chest, you smirked, observing as he seemed to absorb your words slowly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing with effort. The pupils widened, darkening the irises and bringing out the predatory flicker. Mission accomplished. Once again, his hand darted out, stopping your teasing with fingers encircling the wrist tightly.

“You’re asking for trouble,” the husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

You met his gaze, noticing the evident change. It was bound to get interesting. Once you tasted the power, it was hard to give it back. Stepping out of the embrace, you noticed:

“Am I? I thought we’re done here” without waiting for him, you made a move to exit the shower.

Knowing he would follow. You made it as far as grabbing the towel hanging on the hook and wrapping it over your body before his strong arms encircled around you from behind. Pulling you against his chest, just as it all began. Then, a whisper with lips brushing over your ear:

“We’re far from done” oh.

Good. You barely had time to react when Neil lifted you, bridal style, and opened the bathroom door with a kick. Bewildered, you looked at him with curiosity, relishing in the way he cradled you. Possessiveness and care making your head spin with the implications. However, you barely had the time to think of the right question when he stopped abruptly by the long desk lining one side of the room and set you down on the counter. Oh. Consciously adjusting the towel covering your body, you risked a glance at Neil. The blue eyes clouded with need; pupils dilated. The taxing gaze, sweeping over your figure like a predator measuring up the prey. Stunned into silence by the sudden tension, you mirrored his look and allowed yourself a self-indulgent stare, appreciating what the universe gave you in the form of your boyfriend. And his godly body, as you have more than once noticed. Finally, Neil took a step closer. You watched in fascination as his fingers danced along your collarbones and over the skin on your shoulders, taking additional time to brush the fingertips over the forming bruises on your neck. The distant look, telling you it was an open admiration of his work. A shiver ran up your spine, the anticipation of whatever might happen almost stifling.

“All that talk made me a little hungry” the remark made you look up, straight into the marvellous blue eyes.

Confirming the words, Neil slowly licked his lips, hand toying with the end of your towel tucked in to keep it fixed. With heart racing in your chest, you made sure to throw a suggestive glance at his body before asking:

“Only a little?” the dose of provocative tone to make sure he would be within your control.

Because the level of arousal on his side was startling. Impressive, too.Your mouth watered at the sight, thighs clenching tighter together to somehow ease the ache pulsing between your legs. At once, you wanted him to ditch the games and take you this moment, and to wait, to extend the fascinating duel of passion.

Neil gave you no time to consider which one was more tempting, for he used your moment of reverie to tug at the towel to unravel it in one move.

“A lot” the answer perfecting the move with precision.

Fuck. Next thing you knew, you were sat on the towel, naked once more with no way of hiding from him and his look of starvation. Neil closed the remaining gap, blocking your escape and caging you between his arms, palms resting on either side. One last long look as if judging the best course of action before he parted your knees by inserting a leg between your thighs. A hand delving in the newly opened space, drawing out a sigh from your lips as you stared in complete fascination, frozen with the thrill of curiosity and need running through your veins. The pulsating core dripping with desire for him, shame missing from the equation when Neil finally gave in to the pull and slipped a finger between your folds. You knew how bad it was from the single look at his face. The determination slipping for a split second to give way to surprise, a short gasp soon replaced with the smirk worthy of the Lucifer himself. The daring finger parting your inner lips in a teasing move before he raised the hand to his lips, never taking the gaze of you:

“You’re still soaking wet for me,” a remark thrown with something close to mockery.

A flash of anger burning in your chest; mouth opening to prepare a retort. Only to freeze once more when Neil grinned, the hand glistening with the signs of your disgrace licked clean, mirroring your brave actions from not that long ago. Double fuck. A groan, interrupting the train of thought, that spark of irritation helping you to gain back the momentum. A look down his body offering the needed cue:

“Says you” raising one eyebrow, you reached out to repeat the lazy strokes from before.

The deepening darkness in his eyes luring you in, tempting you to push him further than ever before. If only to find out what he is like without any restraints. Without care or apprehension. Only the animalistic lust and craving left. Noticing the familiar hungry glow, you increased the intensity of your moves, smile widening when he let out a frustrated growl and slapped your hands away. In a flash, Neil wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your bodies flush against each other.

“Careful, or I might-” his voice lowered to a whisper, the husky tone reverberating through your chest.

It was the unspoken threat and the way it felt when he pressed against your navel that made you take up the initiative. Leaning back enough to catch his eye, you interrupted the sentence:

“What?” a challenging smirk to irk him further; your legs wrapped around his waist “Destroy me. Fuck me senseless” completing the request by rubbing over him openly, showing the extent of need “Wrap that hand around my neck and take what’s yours” the addition breathed out with the scarlet tint on your cheeks.

Neil let out a whine as you pressed up against him, lacing your hands on the nape of his neck to get better leverage. He hesitated for a split second, hips already responding to your teasing with fleeting twitches. Somehow you knew what was missing. Leaning back, you tilted his chin to lock the gazes. Depths of lust enveloping your mirroring looks.

“Please,” the word dropped in between your lips, separated by a breath of space.

The trigger.

You could barely perceive his actions. The bottom lip caught between his teeth, a forceful thrust eliciting a sharp cry from your throat. Gentleness was left behind as he filled you up in one single move, stretching out your walls and making you gasp. Searching for something to hold on to, you grasped the edges of the desk, helpless gaze locked on his dark eyes without a break. Neil slightly shifted, one hand travelling up your chest to wrap loosely around your neck. Exactly as you asked. The other palm, pulling you closer around the waist, finding the needed grip. A shudder coursing through your body, the core clenching around him in the most basic of reflexes. An irked sigh escaping through your lips was all he needed to begin.

No kissing or hesitation, just the rough rhythm, delving deep into your centre with each thrust, hitting the perfect spot without tenderness. Each move complemented by your moan, pleasure flooding in, making you forget about everything that was not Neil. His gaze was fixed on you, watching with visible fascination how his tip disappeared between your folds with every thrust. The chokehold, tightening a little, increasing the frenzy, and hazing your mind with need. Only once you got used to the set tempo could you shift the position, placing your hands on his biceps. Digging in the nails to show how well that was working. Increasing the intensity of his moves, Neil groaned, his hand tightened over your neck. A clear signal to let you know who is in control. Obedience. Only, you were not that keen on compliance.

With sweat trailing down your body and your arousal wetting the conveniently placed towel, you decided to reach out for more. An assessing look, taking in Neil’s widened pupils and the startling resolve painted on his face. The clenched jaw, highlighting the sharp angles. Split lip from how he bit into it, drawing out blood. Unable to take your gaze off from his mouth, you used the second of hesitation to get closer and crash your lips into his in a hard kiss. Neil gasped, surprised by the shift, opening his mouth underneath your prodding tongue in an instant. Syncing up the way your lips glided over each other with his thrusts, you used the opportunity to gain back the lead. Meeting him halfway, relishing in the groans he let out against your mouth. And then, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks, still damp from the shower, and leaning in to whisper into his ear:

“Harder,” the word dropped with certainty.

A further act of temptation. To see what Neil would be capable of if you drove him to the edge.

You did not have to wait long to find out. Tightening the chokehold, he sped up the movements, delving into you with a force that was ripping cries from your lips. The lascivious sounds filled the room, moans, and gasps interrupting the tempo. Soon it was nothing but the eruption of pleasure every time he hit the spot, making you rake your fingernails over his shoulder blades, deepening the marks and bruises. Using the grip you had over his shoulders, you changed the angle, bringing your pelvises together with every thrust. That seemed to be what Neil needed. He groaned, hand shifting from its position on your neck to grasp your chin and force you to lock the gazes. The feral look in his eyes, making you clench your muscles around him, giving in to the waves of feelings coursing through your body. It was that perfect balance between tempting darkness and astonishing want that you found reflected that was the final push you both needed.

Neil’s tempo waned, shuddered breaths coming out through the parted lips, watching you closely as if the ecstasy written all over your face was a drug he could not get enough of. A string of curses replacing the silence with their harsh simplicity. The grip over your waist tightening, fingers digging into your skin, bruises confirming the facts. His. Just as he tensed, moaning your name with the desperate tint to the tone, you captured his lips in a kiss. Hoping to take the edge off, to give him what he needs. Neil responded by biting hard into your lower lip, pleasure exploding before your closed eyes as he came, a shudder running through his body. Cradling you closer, breaking through the roughness and betraying the underlying feelings. Love, want, need.

It was the sensation of having him come inside you and the harsh kiss that did it. You whimpered, his name and love confessions on the tip of your tongue, spilling out in the silence. Hiding face in his neck, you stiffened, the force of the orgasm ripping through the fracture of reality. Nothing but the overwhelming euphoria, darkness underneath your eyelids dotted with stars. Neil’s skin underneath the shaking hands. His warmth enveloping you in the gilded cage of safety. Completeness. As you came to, riding out the high with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, you heard his soothing voice whispering sweet nothings, nuzzling your head. The tender ‘I got you’ and ‘I love you’ filling the quiet moment with reminders about your perfect reality. With a sigh, you slowly unravelled from the embrace; arms still wound around his body to prolong the touch. As your gazes met, the previous darkness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a soft smile and affection pouring out of his blue eyes. Cupping your cheek, Neil whispered the question:

“Alright?” he searched your face as though worried something could be amiss.

Fighting with the breathlessness, you chose to give him a grin first before responding:

“Yeah,” trailing your fingers down his chest, relishing in the peaceful moment, “Christ… You should fuck me like this more often,” the straightforwardness getting out without a hitch.

After what just happened, it was no big surprise. Neil did not seem shocked either his eyes glimmered playfully, as he traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his finger:

“Your wish is my command, darling,” the low murmur complimented with hand tilting your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss.

A slow and gentle one, softening the bruises and cuts, eliciting a contented sigh from your throat. Afterwards, you rested your forehead against his for a split second, soaking in the feelings. After a beat, you finally leaned back, acknowledging the mess on the hotel room floor covered with your clothes. The bathroom door was left ajar with the ventilation running. The towel you sat on, ruined. Wet hair trailing droplets down your naked body, mixing with the layer of sweat. A frown invited itself onto your face.

“I need another shower though… and a nap” yawning, you pushed Neil back to jump off the desk.

Only once you could properly stand, the fatigue caught up, making you sway on your feet. Without a word, Neil reached out a hand to steady you, pulling you into his side for an additional hug. Nothing to complain about even if you wanted.

“I should get you hot and bothered more often” it was the casual remark that made you look up.

Straight into the suspiciously satisfied face of your boyfriend. Surely not… right?

“… was that the plan all along?” schooling your features, you chose to ask the simplest of questions.

Neil shrugged, the trademark smirk gracing his features.

Bastard. Stepping away from him, you snatched the towel and hastily wrapped it around your body. If only as a retaliation. Because dragging you out to wander in the bloody scorching sun was a low blow. …even if it just gave you one of the best sex experiences in your life. Maybe. Perhaps.

“I hate you,” you hissed before storming over the pile of clothes to the bathroom.

“Uh-huh,” you refused to give him the pleasure of turning around at the sound.

Bastard. Squared.

[staticscreenwriting]

Until we say goodbye || two

Warning! This multipart story takes place after the events of season 3. There’s huge spoilers already in the synopsis down below. I warned you.

Synopsis: (Y/N) Hargrove has to come to terms with the fact that her twin brother is dead and she had to watch him die, unable to do anything about it. There is something she can do for him now though and that’s keeping a promise. The promise to go back home to California. Together. In order to drive cross country and spread Billy’s ashes in a place where the Hargrove kids used to be happy, (Y/N) enlists the help of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who decides that it’s time to break out from his parents expectations and be the person he always wanted to be.

This time on “Until we say goodbye”: The teens stay at a quirky motel. Steve talks to mama Harrington and (Y/N) give us a look into her childhood.

(caution: mention of death, emotional abuse, slight mention of physical abuse, mention of alcohol // if you need me to tag any other possible triggers let me know)

One // 

Part 2 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Help a girl out with a reblog, thank you ♥

And if we hit on troubled water

I’ll be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we’ll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

A cool breeze is blowing past (Y/N) as she sits on edge of the old abandoned lifeguard tower, feet dangling in the air. She’s well aware of the fact that the wind is making a mess of her hair, leaving it a tangled mess. She doesn’t really give a shit though.

The beach is practically deserted except for her and the couple strolling by the shore, throwing sticks for their puppy every once in a while. They seem so happy, as if nothing matters but them and their dog and the ocean.

Her thoughts wander towards Pumpkin, the little Jack Russell puppy they adopted a few years ago when dad was dating this woman named Laura. Laura loved dogs and dad loved Laura and so when she moved in, so did Pumpkin.

(Y/N) loved that stupid dog, hell even Billy did. But like all good things in the Hargrove’s life, this one didn’t last very long either. Dad messed up his relationship with Laura and Laura was smart enough to get the fuck out and take Pumpkin with her. 

The thumping of boots against the wooden planks of the lifeguard tower, pulls (Y/N) back from her trip down memory lane. 

Billy plops down next to her, fumbling a cigarette from the pocket of his denim jacket and lighting it. He’s started smoking a few months ago, just after the twins 13th birthday. Dad was really mad when he found that first cigarette hole in the carpet of their room. 

“ Why are you here ? ‘s about to storm “ Billy mumbles around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.

“ Dad’s being as asshole “ 

“ As per usual “ Billy scoffs, “ what happened ? “ 

“ He found out that I pierced my ears, said I look like a slut. “ 

The words still sting even now that she repeats them to her brother. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s something a father should say, especially to his daughter. It’s just earrings, what’s the big deal ? 

It doesn’t make her a slut. Right ? 

“ What the fuck does he know. He still lives in 1971 with his ugly ass mustache“ Billy jokes, effectively getting a laugh from his twin sister. 

“ You know what the worst part is ? “ (Y/N) asks.

“ Hmm ? “ 

“ I think my ears might be infected. They burn like hell. “ 

“ Ya know what ? That’s your own damn fault. I told you using Galliano liqueur was not the best way to sanitize the needle. “ 

(Y/N) chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “ Yeah, you were right, I admit it “.

“ Good. “ 

She turns to look at her brother. His hair is growing longer now, the curls sitting messily on his head reminding her of crashing waves during a thunderstorm.

Dad hates that Billy is growing his hair and and (Y/N) is fairly sure that’s part of the reason why Billy likes his hair so much. Everything that pisses off their dad is a good think in Billy’s book.

“ Still think you should’ve let me pierce one of your ears. Would’ve looked damn cool. “ she says, teasing smirk playing on her lips.

Billy shakes his head, curls bouncing from the motion. He’s mirroring her smirk though.

“ No fucking way. Never. “ 

(Y/N) finger plays with the tiny silver spike dangling from her ear as her eyes focus on the scenery passing by the window. There’s not a lot to see really, it’s almost pitch black outside. They’re on the road for about an hour and a half now but Steve keeps bringing up stopping.

He’s tired, (Y/N) can tell. Tired and still a bit freaked out by the whole situation.

“ So Terre Haute is coming up at I think we should see if we can find a place to stay the night, then stock up on food and gas tomorrow morning and drive through the entire day “.

Steve speaks up, more of a monologue than anything else. (Y/N) doesn’t mind how long the journey takes as long as they get to California in the end. She doesn’t mind stopping for the night. Doesn’t mind the occasional food or toilet breaks. Leaving Hawkins behind already feels liberating. 

Every mile they put between themselves and that fucking town feels like a weight lifted off her shoulder.

“ Alright, sounds good to me. We gotta find a cheap place though, I don’t have a lot of cash with me “.

“ S’alright I got it “ Steve exclaims.

“ I don’t need your charity, Harrington, “ (Y/N) snaps at him. Maybe it’s a Hargrove thing, being bad at accepting help from other people. From basically strangers.

For the biggest part of her life, (Y/N) only had Billy to depend on. Now that he’s gone it feels absolutely terrifying putting her trust in someone else.

“ Sorry I — that’s not what I meant. “ 

“ No, “ (Y/N) sighs “ I’m sorry for snapping. I know what you meant. It’s okay. “ 

There’s a thick awkward tension filling the car and (Y/N) absolutely hates it. 

“ Can I turn on the radio ? “ she asks motioning towards it. 

Steve nods in agreement. “ There should still be a mixtape in the player. “

With the push of a button the opening chords to Mötley Crües ‘Shout at the devil’ echo through the vehicle, making (Y/N) raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“ Steve Harrington, I did not expect you to listen to this kind of music “.

Steve just shrugs “ why not ? I like all kinds of music. “ 

“ Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ golden boy listening to the Devil’s music. That’s a surprise. “ 

“ Golden boy, “ Steve scoffs “ yeah right. I just about graduated High School. I didn’t get into college. I work at a video store and my own dad thinks I’m goddamn loser. “ 

“ You wanna talk about shitty dads ? Cause let me tell you, I’ll win that one. “ 

It’s quiet for a moment, before Steve clears his throat and speaks up again.

“ Can I ask you something ? “ 

“ Mmh “ 

“ What did they tell your dad happened ? Did they — did they really tell him that whole fire bullshit ? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ And he believed it ? “ 

(Y/N) nods. “ He did. He has no reason not to “.

The fire story. Authorities told Neil and elaborate story about how Billy died in a tragic accident in the big fire at Starcourt mall. Something about wrong place wrong time.

(Y/N) was there when they told him. Susan was crying hysterically. Max was — numb. Neil though. Neil didn’t even flinch. There was no sign of emotion. No sign of grieve. Nothing. Nothing at all.

“ I don’t think he gives a shit either, to be honest. “ 

“ That’s horrible. “ Steve exclaims.

“ That’s my dad for ya. “ 

Steve’s BMW rolls up to the parking lot of the Cardinal Inn Motel. It’s a small Motel complex and it looks like it’s seen better days. The walls are a dirty white, almost gray color and all doors are painted a bright red although most of the paint is chipping off. 

The kids enter the motel lobby, a small room decked out in all kinds of kitschy decor. There’s cross stitch art and paintings and decorative throw pillows. And all if it proudly features various images of a red cardinal bird. 

“ Welcome to the Cardinal Inn Motel. “ a chipper voice speaks up from behind the reception desk. “ I’m Ruth, how can I help ya ? “ 

Ruth is a plump little woman with a kind smile, round cheeks and extremely curly ginger hair. She looks more like a caricature than an actual person. Though (Y/N) thinks she fits this place perfectly. 

“ We would like twooo — ? “ Steve trails off and glances towards (Y/N) in question.

“ One “ 

“ — one room. With two beds though “. 

“ Oh sure sure. Let me see. It’s 32 $ for a night. “ Ruth says and opens a book, probably looking up which rooms are occupied and which rooms are free. She walks towards a board holding a lot of keys and takes one of handing it to Steve.

“ This is your room key, It’s number 44. When you step outside, the room is located in the building to your right. It’s on the first floor, first door once you walk up the stairs. I would have to ask for a down payment though. Just in case. “ 

Steve hastily pulls out a bundle of cash from his jeans, counting the right amount and handing it to Ruth. “ That’s the entire amount, we’re only staying for one night “.

“ Very well then. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Cardinal Inn. “ Ruth chirps almost like a bird herself.

“ Thanks “ Steve says and walks towards the door.

(Y/N) stays rooted though, eyes wandering around the room from one red bird to the next to the next. 

“ Hey Ruth, “ she chimes up.

“ Yes, dear ? “ 

“ What’s with the birds ? “

“ Oh the cardinal ? That’s Indiana’s state bird. “ 

“ They’re funky looking little guys, huh ? “ 

“ Truly. They’re also very interesting. If you want to learn about them, they’re an informational brochure in every room. “ 

(Y/N) gives Ruth a soft smile then rushes after Steve, out into the chilly night air.

“ Knight Rider, really Harrington ? “ 

Steve sits up from his slumped position on the bed as (Y/N) comes back from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in her pyjamas. A choice of pyjamas she thoroughly regrets now as the cool air inside the motel room hits the skin of her legs. 

She’s dressed in a pair of short red pj pants and one of Billy’s old band shirts. One she’s stolen from his closet after — the incident. It smells like him. Makes her feel like he’s still there.

“ What, It’s good. “ 

“ It’s so stupid. It’s a talking car. “ 

“ Okay, whatever. You keep on hating but I tell you this show is gonna last forever and it’s gonna win all the awards. Trust me. “ 

“ Mmmh. Sure. Shower’s yours. “ 

Steve gathers some of his stuff from his duffle bag and moves towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As she is left alone in the room, the gravity of it all comes crashing down on (Y/N). This is it. That trip she wanted to go on with Billy. That trip they had fantasized about since the moment they left California. 

Now it’s happening but it doesn’t feel right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With Billy in a thermos. With Billy — dead.

The room suddenly feels too small. Like the walls are gonna close in on her any second now. She needs air. Fresh air. Needs to get out of here. Now. Now.

So she does.

Slips on her shoes and the room key and dashes out through the door and into the night. It’s cold. Way too cold for the amount of clothing she’s wearing or not wearing depending on how you see it. 

For a while all she does is walk up and down the road, wishing she had remembered to take her pack of smokes with her. 

When it gets too cold though, she spots a neon sign in one of the windows of the Lobby building. “Souvenirs”.

She wonders if all of those souvenirs have red birds on them.

They don’t. Most of them do, but not all of them. A lot of them display what she can only assume are important buildings of  the city of Terre Haute, Indiana.

(Y/N) remembers the few trips she used to take with her mom and Billy, when they were just little kids. Mom loved to take them to the little quirky little towns across the coast and the kids loved exploring them. Billy always got a postcard, from every single place. (Y/N) got keychains. She still has a box of them stuffed beneath her bed at home. 

Her eyes wander around the room before they fall onto a display of all kinds of different postcards. Most of them, as expected, have birds on them. Though there’s one that doesn’t. It says “Terre Haute” in big bold letters. It reminds her of the ones Billy used to get from those coastal towns. 

Greetings from … the few happy childhood memories she can remember.

(Y/N) takes the card over towards the reception, where Ruth greets her with another of her signature Ruth smiles. Kind and warm.

“ Hi, dear. “ 

“ Hi uh — I want to buy this postcard. I can’t find a price though, ah shit I left my money up in the room let me just — “ 

Before she can hurry towards her room though, Ruth stops her.

“ It’s okay, Darling. You can have it for free. “

“ Oh no, I —  “

“ Please. You asked about the birds that pretty much the most anyone has cared about this place in a while. Take it. I want you to have it. “ 

It’s kinda sad, (Y/N) thinks. That her just asking about those silly birds made Ruth this happy. That people pay so little attention to her adorably little bird room.

“ Thank you, Ruth. That is very sweet of you. And this place is adorable. “ 

“ Thank you, dear. Do you need a stamp for that ? “

(Y/N) sighs “ No. No I don’t. “ 

The Bean is a little diner at the edge of town looking out onto the Wabash River. It’s emitting a perpetual smell of coffee and waffles and breakfast food.

Steve is munching down an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Oh to have the metabolism of a teenage boy.

(Y/N) takes another sip of her black coffee, hoping that the caffeine is gonna help keep her awake and not get too tired during their drive. After all they plan on being on the road for the entire day.

The pancakes on her plate are long forgotten. She hasn’t really been feeling like eating since it all happened. It’s like she’s acting on power saving mode. Always tired. Always sad. Always working on half speed.

“ You should eat something. You need it. “ Steve remarks.

“ Are you flirting with me ? ” 

“ I uh — what ? “ 

“ Male cardinals feed females as part of their courtship ritual. A female’s partner bears total responsibility for satisfying her dietary needs. “ 

“ How do you know this ?  “

(Y/N) smiles and takes another sip of coffee “ my friend Ruth recommended me some interesting reading material “.

She doesn’t mention that the nightmares didn’t allow her much sleep and that she spent most of the night staying up reading the informational magazine. There’s things Steve just doesn’t need to know.

“ Alriiiight. “ Steve exclaims, eyebrows raised “ Hey, what’s that. You gonna send a card home ? “ he asks and motions towards the postcard she’d been scribbling on while he had been ordering their food.

“ Nah. Not really. This one’s for someone else “.

“ Alright … hey uh. I think I should call my parents “ 

She looks up from her cup at Steve’s words. This can’t be happening. She can’t go back home now. He can’t bail on her.

“ Harrington “ 

“ Don’t look at me like that, I’m not turning around and crawling back home. I just don’t want my mom to worry. I need her to know I’m safe. “ 

That’s right, Steve has a mom too, not just an asshole dad. A mom who cared and who worries and who loves. God it’s been so long since (Y/N) had one of those.

“ Okay, yeah. But um — can you not mention my name. I don’t want any news to get to my dad. “ 

“ Of course. Yeah, no worries.“ 

“ Thanks “.

Despite what Billy always said about him, Steve seems to be an alright guy after all. His hair’s ridiculous though.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up.

“ Hello ? “

“ Mom, it’s me. “ 

“ Oh god Steve. Honey where are you I’m worried sick “. 

That sends a little pang to his heart. His mother is a nice lady, she loves him deeply and she doesn’t deserve for him to worry her like that. But this is something Steve has to do, if not for (Y/N) then for himself. 

“ I’m alright mom. I’m taking a friend on a — uh a roadtrip. “ 

“ A roadtrip ?” 

“ Yea. To uh — “ his mind wanders to Billy. “ We’re going to help her brother “.

“ Okay, well are you alright ? “

No. He hasn’t been alright in a long time. Since 1983 to be completely honest.

Maybe this trip is just what he needs. A way out. An escape. 

Steve leans his head against the payphone, taking a deep breath.

“ I don’t know, mom. But I’m safe and I need to just — just get away. “ 

“ Is this because of what happened with the Holland girl ? Or the mall ?“ 

Yes. All of it. If only she knew.

“ It’s just a lot lately. Can you just trust me in this, mom. That I’m doing what’s best for me ? “ 

His mother hesitates for a moment before clearing her throat.

“ Of course I do, sweet boy. But I am a mom and I do worry. I always will. “

It warms his heart. To know someone does care and someone does love him, no matter how much he messes up.

“ I know. I love you and I’ll be back soon. I promise. I just need to do this, for me.“ 

“ Be safe, Steve “ 

“ I will. “ 

Before he hangs up he can just about make out his father’s voice in the background, asking if “that’s him” and “what’s he messed up this time ? “

And it once again becomes crystal clear why getting on the road with (Y/N) is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

He walks back over to her, as she leans against his car chewing some bright pink bubble gum.

“ You ready to head out ? “

“ Yup. Your parents mad ? “

“ No. Surprisingly not. Mom just wants me to be safe. “ 

“ Aw little Stevie. How adorable. Anyway let’s go. “

As they both settle back in their seats, Steve slides the signature dark shades back onto his nose and turns towards (Y/N). 

“ Sooo, snacks ? “ 

“ Snacks “ she nods and throws him one of her signature smirks “ definitely need some twizzlers to survive this trip “.

 “ Happy Birthday to me “ a freshly 9 year old (Y/N) mumbles as she buries her feet in the warm sand. It’s almost time for the sun to set behind the horizon and color the sky in beautiful shades of reds and pinks and oranges.

For the last 8 years this has been a moment she has shared with her mom. Every birthday the two of them would come down to the beach and watch the sunset. Just them two.

Billy had the morning to spend alone with mom, going to the beach to catch some waves, and (Y/N) got to have the evening. 

They’d sit and talk for hours and hours and hours. About everything. The silliest things.

This year she hasn’t so much as called. As if neither (Y/N) nor Billy ever existed in her life.

Billy’s been grumpy all day, refusing to spend time with his sister and deciding to go hang out with some of those stupid boys from the neighbourhood that always call (Y/N) dumb names.

(Y/N) watches the sun lower itself as if to drown the light in the dark water of the ocean, when a little plastic bag lands next to her. Just a moment later Billy drops down onto the ground too.

“ Got you some candy. Twizzlers, your favorite “ 

“ Did you steal them ? “ 

“ No, dingus. I bought them with my own money. “ 

“ Good. Means I don’t have to feel guilty when eating them. “ 

It’s silent for a moment as they sit beside each other, watching the sunset.

“ Hey I’m sorry “ Billy whispers, as if speaking any louder would mean destroying the magic of the moment.

“ It’s okay. You’re sad. I’m sad too. “ 

“ I’m not sad “ he claims “ I’m angry. So angry. “ 

“ You can be sad and angry at the same time. They’re not mutually exclusive. “ 

“ Stop using big words. “ 

“ Sorry. “ 

Billy takes a big breath “ I’ve decide “ he exclaims “ that from this moment on I’ll missing her. If she doesn’t want to come home, doesn’t want to see us. Screw her. I don’t need her and neither do you. “ 

(Y/N) knows that’s absolute bullshit but she also knows that Billy has a certain way of coping with loss and sadness and maybe she doesn’t share his ways or understand them fully but she can respect them if it means he’s less angry and less sad.

“ Okay. “ 

“ We don’t need her because we have each other “ he says, placing his hand on hers “ right ? “

In that moment, little (Y/N) knows that whatever the world is gonna throw her way, it’s only half as bad with her twin brother by her side.

“ Of course. Always “ 

If only they had known how terribly short ‘always’ would turn out to be.

_________

tags:

@sargent-barnes // 

[looselucy]

Introduction

August 29th A week had passed since my birthday, and my neck and everything else was relatively back to normal. Louis stood at the other side of the counter, inspecting the bruising carefully, noting the markings that still remained. “Looks loads better.” He mulled.

“I know! It doesn’t hurt anymore, but I went for a check-up yesterday and they said I need to keep the brace on a little bit longer.” “Well, put it back on then!” He demanded, as I attacked it back around my neck. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I have to admit, I’m a little bit disappointed to be working again.” I owned a wine shop in the centre of our tiny village, and due to how small the place we lived was, Louis was the only person I needed to hire to help me run things. Rosebury was pretty idyllic, so on top of local regulars, people would visit from surrounding areas to stroll down country lanes and drink beside the river that ran through our home, shop in vintage stores and thankfully, buy rare and overpriced wine from my store. I meant that two of us were earning enough to live a pretty comfortable life, and whenever we needed some time off, all I’d have to do was print a tiny notice and stick it in the window. “Yes, I do work you to the bone.” I nodded, sipping on the cup of tea I’d just made. “I’m really run off my feet.” Louis joined the joke, shrugging and picking up his mug. “So what about those self-defence classes? Libby was telling me about them.” “Yeah, they start tonight.” I shrugged. “I’m a bit… apprehensive.” “How come?” “Not sure. Just feeling… weird, about it.” I was hesitant to admit that a part of me was still a little bit convinced that the guy running the classes was the one who had hurt me in the first place. I knew I was just being silly, really, and that it wasn’t likely, but I didn’t trust the timing of it all. I was intrigued by how the evening would play out, but I definitely wasn’t looking forward to it. “I bet it’s really good for ya.” Louis continued. “Some peace of mind. It’s good to know this stuff, too.” “I guess so.” I was hoping to benefit from the evening in some way, whether that was learning how to successfully knock a man out cold, or if I was going to come face to face with the bloke who’d hurt me and figure out how to knock a man out cold on the spot. I still wasn’t feeling fully myself since it had happened. I was perfectly fine and things had just gone on like normal, but there was something going on at the very back of my mind that I couldn’t quite shake. On top of that, things with Sam hadn’t cleared up, either. He kept turning up at my flat, and idiotically, I kept letting him in. My head was a mess. The bell sounded, and we both whipped our heads towards the front door, Niall having bounced in with so much energy, I knew he’d have a story to tell. “Afternoon, Niall.” Louis grinned. “I’VE GOT A DATE!” He threw his arms in the air dramatically, before clapping his hands together and dancing over to us. “I’ve finally got a real date and I cannot wait.” “That’s sick!” I smiled. “Who is he?” “His name’s Neil, and he’s coming over from Yorkshire… for me.” “Wow you must be such a catch.” Louis beamed vividly. “Shut your mouth, Tomlinson, I am a catch.” Being from such a small place, Niall didn’t ever have much luck when it came to men. There was an unfortunate lack of options available to him, which was a shame given how romantic he was. “Niall and Neil.” I grinned. “I hope it works out just for the name combination.” “So, I’m grabbing an early evening meal with Neil-” “Niall and Neil grab a meal.” Louis sang. “-and then I was thinking we should all go to the pub and I can update everyone, and then kill Louis.” “Sounds good.” I smiled. “Me, Chloe and Libby are going to some self-defence class, and we can meet you afterwards.” “How ya feeling?” Niall moved closer. “How ya been?” “I’m good.” I shrugged, plastering on a smile. “I’m fine.” “You sure?” “Yep. Never better.” “Are you back with Sam?” “Noooooo. No.” I shook my head, maybe with a little more animation than was needed. “We’re just…” Louis looked across to Niall with dead eyes, that were soon returned to him, the two of them judging and rolling their eyes and acting as though I couldn’t see everything they were doing. I placed my mug down on the counter and put my hands on my hips, watching them both shake their heads and tut. “Pathetic.” Niall muttered. “Alright, alright.” I walked around to the other side of the counter, ready to shove him outdoors. “If you’re not going to buy anything, piss off! You’re both the worst.” “I am going to buy something!” He cried as I pushed him. “I’m going to buy a nice bottle of wine for Neil!” “Oh shit, you can stay then.” I immediately dragged him back. “What’re you after?” “A nice red.” “Okay, let’s go.” I took him over to the section I felt was exceptionally under-priced for just how good the wine was, showing him a few of our best bottles and ones I knew would impress the elusive Neil. I was hoping all our evenings would work out for the best.

Chloe checked over her appearance in the grimy window outside the building we were waiting to leak into, surrounded by excited women all in their early forties or older, who had also decided to attend the new classes that would take place every Wednesday. We were at the back of the short queue that had gathered outdoors, Libby with her arms folded, me with my hands in my pockets, and Chloe leaning so close to her reflection to see if her mascara was still intact I thought she might stumble forward and smash the window. “M’dreading this.” I groaned. “Well, don’t!” Libby argued. “This is gunna be good for us. I’ve always wanted to know how to like… strangle someone.” “I don’t think he’ll be teaching us how to strangle people.” Chloe groaned, leaning back and turning to us. “I think it’ll be more technical than that.” “Or it’s just another creep who wants an excuse to be around women, just like the last guy was.” I added. We heard the faint sound of a door opening, and almost instantly, the line began to shuffle forward, the women ahead of us all bickering excitedly between themselves. I suppose this was as interesting as a Wednesday night got in Rosebury. “Well let’s go find out.” Libby beamed. We followed slowly, through the thin door and then up a slim and creaky set of stairs that went to the second floor of the old building where the sessions were taking place. Everything was dusty and old and perfectly in-keeping with the old buildings that surrounded the one we’d found ourselves in. But all of that changed when we actually walked into the gym. It was clearly all brand new, and it was obvious that this guy had sunk some money into creating the perfect environment for his lessons. The light laminate floors bounced beneath our feet, one wall covered entirely in mirrors, and the wall at the far end of the room opposite the reflection had numerous punching bags hanging from the ceiling. It was clean and professional and it felt like a totally different place to the corridor that was just mere feet away. We walked cautiously into the room, people finding their spots across the floor, and I kept my eyes on the boy at the front, waiting to see his face. He was down on the ground, crouching in front of a set of speakers and flicking through his phone, silent as we all gathered ourselves. The three of us found a spot, pretty central, and I watched him the whole time, eager for him to turn around so I could finally have an answer to the question that had been burning at my mind. I knew the second he turned around that it wasn’t the man who had stolen from me and bruised my throat a week prior, but he still managed to completely take me by surprise. He was tall, almost obnoxiously handsome, his short hair held back by a tattered bandana and his frame so broad I felt my breath hit the back of my throat with a force I hadn’t been expecting. The guy who’d ran the previous sessions was much older than us, but this new guy must have been around our age. I’d half been expecting yet another weird middle-aged man to be running the sessions, but this boy certainly wasn’t like that. He smiled softly as he looked around the room, clearly just about to introduce himself and present what was going to happen, until he spotted me, and his smile dropped. “You alright?” He directed specifically to me. “Huh?” “Your neck.” “Oh! Yeah… I… Yeah, I’m fine.” He gaged me a little further, licking over his lips with thin eyes, before ticking his head back and signalling for me to step towards him. I moved from my spot, cautiously approaching him. “Uh, can everyone just do a few basic warm ups?” He addressed the room as I closed the gap between us. “Anything from star-jumps to lunges will be fine, just get yourself ready.” I was with him in seconds, my hands gripped down at my side and my nerves rising by the second. I stopped ahead of him, and being so close meant that I was completely unable to ignore just how gorgeous he was. He had bright green eyes, lightly tanned skin and the beginning shreds of facial hair that looked soft and was clearly an adorable attempt to grow both a beard and a moustache. I felt like I couldn’t take my eyes off him, no matter how nervous I became beneath his tender gaze. “What’s ya name?” He asked quietly. “Alfie.” “Alfie, this first one is gunna be mainly exercise work and it’s gunna put some stress on your body that I’m not sure you’re quite ready for yet.” “Honestly, it’s fine!” I tried. “I don’t wanna risk it.” He shrugged. “I’m happy for you to stay and watch, and I won’t charge! But I’d feel much more comfortable if you sat this one out. That okay?” To say I’d been dreading going ever since Libby told me about the classes, I felt weirdly disappointed that I wasn’t going to take part. Maybe it was just because I finally knew that the guy running them wasn’t who I thought he might have been, or maybe it was because he was so enchanting that I immediately wanted to learn from him. I wanted to listen to him speak and hear what he had to say and experience the lesson he had planned fully. I sighed, nodding slightly. “That’s fine. I’m still gunna pay though.” “You don’t have to.” “No, I want to. My neck is fine though!” “The brace says different.” He grinned. “Sit yourself down, relax, okay? You seem tense.” I nodded, mumbling a quiet thank you before I scuttled off to the side of the room and plonked myself down with my back against the wall, the girls shooting me looks before I pointed at the neck brace, and then they seemed to quickly catch onto why I was having to take the first lesson from the side-lines. Once I was settled, he stepped forward once again, whistling to grab the rooms attention and bring the rather poor attempts at warming up to a standstill. “Uh… Hi, I’m Harry, and thank you all for coming to my first class.” He began, his soft exterior seeming to vanish the more he spoke, and how he was now choosing to hold himself. “I appreciate you all being here, but there are some things I need to make clear before I start things up.” He began walking around the room, weaving between women who all kept their eyes on him at all times, gazing at him almost wistfully as he sauntered around the room, and he owned every single one of us in those moments. With minimal effort and barely any words shared, we were all his, entirely. “I don’t provide average lessons. I don’t work by a formula. I don’t tell you what you should expect and what you should fear. I want to work as a team, with all of you, and figure out the threats you feel and face in your day to day life and build these classes around you. Your wants and your needs.” I wondered briefly, if that was what he did. We knew he was new to Rosebury, and I wondered if he spent his life moving from one place to the next and holding these sessions in different environments, different places and maybe even different countries, holding classes that were exclusively catered for the people who were there attending them, and the location in which they lived. I wondered if he’d just come from a city, somewhere where the threats must have been much higher than what we all experienced in our lives. I wondered if that was how he worked, and that we would be his team until we all felt his work was done, and then he’d pack up and leave and take his sessions to a new group of women and work with them, and work to their needs. “I want you to tell me what you want, and no matter what it is, I will do my best to teach you the skill you’re after.” He continued, jaw tight and eyes searching confidently across eager faces. “I don’t just teach you how to defend yourselves, I can teach you how to fight. I can teach you how to kill, if that’s what you want. So if any of you aren’t comfortable with that, you should leave now.” There was a slight grumbling that echoed around the room for just a few moments, but everyone stayed put, even though I spotted one woman, Betty, who I knew was around 70 who definitely looked a little hesitant, but she stood her ground and stomached it. Harry moved back to the front of the room, eyeing up literally everyone there one by one, his hands behind his back. I gave myself a moment to admire his broad frame. The tight t-shirt he had on gave everyone a clear view of the toned body beneath it, the dark cloth clinging to his abs. He had an abundance of tattoos running up his left arm, a few scattered across his right, and I was already well aware that myself and the girls would end up gossiping about how gorgeous he was as soon as the session was done. “I’m going to start an exercise routine that will last exactly an hour, with no breaks.” He told us. “All you need to do it follow my lead. It’s not easy, and whenever you need to stop, please do. That’s part of what this exercise is. We’ll do the same thing, every few months, and I want you to get a little bit further in the exercise every single time. So, if and when you know you’ve reached your limit, lift your hand, and then go sit down with…” He turned to, waiting for me to announce myself, being the one and only person who was already sitting it out. ���Alfie.” I grumbled nervously, telling him my name once again. “Take a seat with Alfie.” He nodded. Everyone mumbled their understanding of the setup, Harry nodding with a smile to them all before going back over to the speakers on the ground and pressing play, opening up with The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

I had watched the entire routine, witnessed the women dropping like flies, one by one. The last woman left standing was Chloe, but even she hadn’t managed to complete the workout he had set up. There had been jogging, star-jumps, press-ups, boxing, Zumba-esque periods, and basically enough to make me tired just from watching. Chloe had done 45 minutes, meaning she’d very almost completed the entire routine, before she raised her hand and practically collapsed on the floor. Harry was at the front when that happened with a huge smile on his face, barely looking like he’d broken a sweat despite the fact he’d done the whole thing with twice as much stamina as anyone else. It was impressive and almost infuriating and the whole thing had looked so intense I was half tempted never to return there again just in the hope of not going through that workout. He wasn’t just going to teach us how to defend ourselves, he was going to work us to the damn bone, that much was clear. Once everyone had caught their breath, and after a brief scare of little Betty almost passing out, Harry had said thank you and that he hoped to see us all again the following week, and we made our way out of there. I waited behind a little, shuffling awkwardly on my feet as everyone spilled out of the room, wanting to just catch our new tutor on his own for a moment. As soon as the door clicked into place and it was just the two of us, I spoke, taking his attention away from his phone. “That was great, by the way.” He whipped his head up to me. “Oh.” He seemed baffled. “Thanks.” “I just wanted to say… I’m fine. It’s just some bruising, so… next week, no matter what hideous workout you have planned, because that looked painful,” He sniggered. “I’d like to join in.” “Um… It’s kinda my responsibility to look after you when you’re in the room, so-” “Tell that to Betty! You almost killed her!” He laughed again, his brows lowering but keeping his eyes on me. “Yeah, and that was a scary fucking time for me!” He cried. “I’ll be the judge of it next week.” “Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Is that why you’re here?” “Huh?” “What happened to your neck. Is that why you’re here?” It was clear that Harry had been doing those classes for a while, even though that was his first class in Rosebury. He seemed too comfortable and too sure of himself for it to be his first lesson. I wondered how many injuries he had seen in his time. I wondered how many frightened women he had come across who had experienced much worse than me and gone to him seeking guidance and strength. I looked to the floor momentarily, feeling low. “Yeah.” I grumbled. “Some… guy- Yeah. Yeah, that’s why I’m here.” “Are you alright?” “I’m fine. And… everyone knows everyone’s business here, so I think that’s why there were so many people here today. It only happened last week, and I think everyone’s feeling a bit… on edge. So, you’re welcome for the packed-out room.” I tried to joke. He didn’t seem amused, taking a few small steps in my direction. “M'gunna try and make you feel safe again, okay?” He spoke so directly, so solemnly, that the humour I’d been using as a guise disappeared, and instead tears filled my eyes and I nodded, because that was exactly what I wanted. “Thank you.” I mumbled, backing away from him. “I’ll see you next week.” He didn’t say another word as I walked out of the room, he just watched me go, gathering myself quite quickly so by the time I was out on the hall it didn’t look as though I’d just been crying, just in time for the door to shut and for Chloe to punch my arm with quite some strength. “OW!” I cried. “What was that for?” “Did you ask him to come to the pub tonight?” She put her hands on her hips, eyes wide. “What? No. Why would I do that?” “Chloe thinks he may be her future husband.” Libby sighed, eyes in the back of her head. “We need to befriend him!” Chloe continued, looking genuinely annoyed that I hadn’t already been miraculously aware that I should have invited him to the pub that evening. “He’s new in town, he’s probably lonely, he looks our age, and yes, maybe I have already started planning the wedding, what of it?” “Well then you go ask him!” I befuddled. “You should go, you’ve already chatted to him.” “Chloe-” “Nope, go on!” Libby grabbed hold of the handle as Chloe started pushing me back inside. “Off you pop!” “Are you losing your fucking mind?” I stumbled. “Be nice!” I practically fell back into the gym and the door was slammed behind me as I found my balance and spun around so I was facing him, immediately noting the look on his face, somewhere between confusion and horror. “Hi!” I blurted. “Y’alright?” “Sorry, yeah, we were just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come to the pub tonight?” He didn’t say anything, he just looked more confused. “Um, like I said, everyone knows everyone’s business here, so we know you’re new and you’ve come here on your own. I think?” “Yup. Just me.” “Well, there’s a group of us, I think we’re around your age, and we’re all pretty decent people. So… I dunno, if you’re looking to make friends, we’re gunna be in The Tin Mouse at like nine tonight. Sorry, I know this is weird.” “Nah, it’s not weird.” He shook his head. “That’s really nice, I’d love to come.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s… a scary thing, moving somewhere new and kinda… trying to build a life. I really appreciate the offer.” “Okay, good! Well, we’ll see you later then.” I swiftly began my exit. “Hold the door, I’m leaving now anyway.” I scuttled off towards the exit, opening up and stepping out into the hall, being grilled within a second. “IS HE COMING?” “Shh, woman!” I hissed at Chloe, jolting my head back in his direction as I held the door for him. Thankfully, she caught on quite quickly, all three of us watching him swing his rucksack over his shoulder and follow me out into the hall, a puzzled smile perking his lips. “Y’alright, girls?” He greeted. Libby giggled like a child whilst Chloe just stared at him with her mouth agape, and all I could think was how he was probably praying it wouldn’t just be us three at the pub that night because they were acting so bloody weird. I couldn’t believe that it was me of all people who was managing to keep my calm and not drool at the bloody sight of him. He locked up behind himself as we all trailed back down the corridor and down the stairs leading us outdoors in complete silence, feeling sort of awkward because it was clear the girls were ready to burst and quiz me and find out what he’d said in the very brief time I’d been in that room. Once we were outside, the three of us gathered as Harry locked the second door, sort of lingering for some reason, like we were waiting for him, which probably made him feel even more awkward. “So… I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.” He smiled. “Yeah, see you soon!” I returned, the girls still just bloody staring at him. He gave us a friendly grin before turning his back to us and turning the street corner, the three of us watching him like hawks and almost collapsing when we saw him jumping onto the back of a motorbike, attaching nothing but a glittery helmet to his head and then revving up and taking off, zooming down the previously quiet country road. All stood in a row, we watched him go, and I swear he was already the most interesting thing that had happened to our tiny village in a long time, despite recent events. “My vagina is literally tingling.” Chloe exhaled.

[sunnysynthsunshine]

New Year New Roomate (the self insert stories) (The Young Ones)

A couple of short stories I thought up about The Young Ones some of which involve my oc Kelsie (the new "5th" roommate).

Chapter 1

 The 5th Roomate

It had been a few days since recovering from the bus incident luckily Mike was able to get enough money for the boys to continue living in their Bristol student house, They were given news that there would be a new roommate living with them.

Her name was Kelsie, the 5th roommate she was a drama/media student and she was new to scumbag college She entered, she put her belongings in her room and was quiet She had a jacket, band shirt, choker, shorts, leggings and boots on

Mike, Vyvyan, Rick, and Neil were confused but fascinated Unlike other birds, they had previously seen this Kelsie girl didn't talk much outside of mumbling and sarcasm

Rick decided to talk to her while he was studying Kelsie got out her notebook and started writing

Rick peeked over at what Kelsie was writing about

“So what’s the course like?”

Kelsie shrugged

“It’s alright I guess what do you study?”

Rick said, “Sociology and Domestic Sciences”

From the living room, Neil overheard saying “Domestic sciences maybe you should help me with the cooking sometimes”

“Shut up Neil” Rick answered back

Kelsie finished writing and watched TV  ignoring him

when she went to the sink to put her dishes away she saw Vyvyan sitting on the counter drinking tea

Kelsie complimented his t-shirt

“Oh Rush that’s a great band”

“I know what bands do you like?”

Kelsie answered

“I love Blondie, Iron Maiden, Sex Pistols, Simple Plan and various other bands”

Vyvyan said,

“Good taste, I don’t know what Simple Plan is though”

Kelsie asked

“What do you study?”

Vyvyan said,

“Medicine I’m going to be a doctor if I can be if not I’ll be a surgeon”

Kelsie joked “So you like playing with people’s bodies”

Vyvyan laughed

“Yes, with all these new diseases people need someone to help them and considering the bastards in charge of the health system no wonder people are dropping like flies”

Vyvyan chuckled again sipping his tea

“You know that bastard rRck?”,he once tried to down laxatives and goes on and on about starting a revolution but never actually goes through with it"

“I see” Kelsie answered

Vyvyan said,

"I mean he's alright sometimes but other times he does my head in so we fight a lot"

"perfectly understandable" Kelsie responded

Later after realizing not much was on television that night they went to bed

Chapter 2

: Distracting Mr Balowski

Mr Balowski is about to annoy the boys once again but will their new roommate be able to distract him?

It was like any other day for four college students Vyvyan was watching television, Rick was reading & Neil was doing some coursework while Mike was busy doing "Business" on the other sofa in the room the newest member the 5th roommate of the Young Ones was relaxing until there was a knock on the door... It was Mr. Balowski what sort of scheme was he planning next?

the house had just gotten cleaned after all the time warps and if Mr.Balowski was going to do anything that would make Lazy Vyvyan and Rick get off their asses to have to deal with that would be an ant being a molehill.

Vyvyan sighed at the doorbell ringing "Oh No"

Rick said

"Wait I've got an idea"

Kelsie yawned on the sofa with her headphones on

when Rick suddenly ran over to her "hey Kelsey you're studying Drama right?"

Kelsie nodded

"Yeah?"

Rick made a suggestion

"how about you try to distract Mr. Balowski"

Kelsie didn't know who he was talking about

"Uh, whos' Mr. Balowski?"

Vyvyan answered

"The most annoying bastard in the world second to Rick"

which Rick glared at

Kelsie sighed

"I'll see what I can do"

Kelsie then answered the door looking stoic

"Hello what are you selling"

Mr. Balowski explained

"Yes, I'm looking for Mr.Rick, Mr. Vyvyan, Mr.Mike, and Mr.Neil"

before he removed  his shades

"Oh, Oh my and who are you?"

Kelsie attempted to sound like a generic sexy anime girl

"Oh, It's". she flipped her hair seductively Kelsie"

Mr. Balowski realized

"I might have the wrong address"

Kelsie said

"you know I love guys with Russian accents"

Mr. Balowski blushed

"Oh my "

Kelsie asked holding her phone out

"you want me to show you this band I like My Bloody Valentine?"

Mr. Balowski was turned off and disgusted

"erm no thanks have a good day"

Mr Balowski had ran off

Kelsie cringed

"Oh my that line made me cringe it sounded so wrong"

Rick grinned

"brilliant  at least you got rid of him now we know the best way to stop him is to gross him out"

Chapter 3

: Looking for SPG

Vyvyan can't find his Glaswegian hamster SPG so he tries to think of a plan to get him back

Vyvyan had lost SPG so he was looking around the house for him

"SPG SPG SPG!!!!!!!!!! Where are you?" he yelled

Neil was confused as to why Vyvyan was repeating himself

"why are you saying the same thing over and over again?"

Vyvyan shouted

"It's SPG he's gone missing"

Neil shrugged so he could get something out of the fridge

"Oh well, I'll be using some food for class and?

Vyvyan suddenly got an idea

"I know I'll get some hamster food and bait surely he'll arrive when sees it"

so Vyvyan got some hamster food and poured it all over Rick who was having a nap on the sofa

to get SPG's attention

SPG crawled out of a hole noticing the bait

"I see something"

Kelsie was also resting next to Rick

"I see a sweet looking lass"

SPG walked along Kelsie and then started to jump and crawl all over Rick

Rick trembled unamused

"Ah! something's biting me get it off get it off VYVYAN WHAT PRANK DID YOU PULL THIS TIME?"

Vyvyan smirked as he had found his hamster

"I didn't pull a prank I was just looking for SPG"

Rick scoffed and whined,

"oh your filthy hamster that explains why I smell like onion sandwiches"

Vyvyan explained,

"I needed bait and I knew you'd be the perfect test subject"

Chapter 4

: The Reveal (Rick)

Kelsie (their new roomate) has been hiding their gender identity for quite sometime and they decide to come out to Rick the person that they thinks will understand

It was around dinner time and Kelsie hadn't joined usually kelsie would just chill in her room but this time was longer than before Rick snuck upstairs to see what was the holdup  

he saw Kelsie looking in the mirror of her wardrobe trying to press in her breasts making it looks like she didn't have them

Rick was puzzled by this he had also overheard Kelsie punch a mirror mumbling about how she felt about her gender identity so he observed until he saw Kelsie's eyes turning indicating that she had seen him notice.

Rick asked

"What are you doing"

Kelsie answered

"You must promise not to tell a soul"

Rick nodded making mime like hand gestures

"Cross my heart, not to die, punch a fascist in the eye". "Vyvyan and Neil know enough about me to make me the next celebrity my secrets might be around but I'll keep yours safe and sound"

Kelsie rolled her eyes

"was that another hiaku of yours?"

Rick shrugged it off

"anyways what is this horrible and private secret you want to tell me?"

Kelsie confessed

"I-I may be biologically female but I feel more like a male and sometimes I just feel like nothing ever since I was little I would identify with boys most of the time"

Rick said

"Oh well that's not bad I feel nothing all the time, the world's existence is nothing"

Kelsie tried to explain

"What I mean is I want to be seen as a boy more than a girl sometimes it's hard having to deal with forced expectations and all the pressure"

Rick processed the information, taking the information in a serious understanding way as he also got  personal in his response

"I understand as someone who is androgynous I understand that gender roles are stupid I'm in a similar boat I'm biologically male but I'm non binary those feelings are normal society might say your not ladylike or that you don't fit their standards  who cares what society thinks I think you should be what you want to be and if that involves you sometimes being one of us boys then I have no problem with that"

Kelsie felt accepted as she sniffled a bit "Thank you, Rick, living with mainly some conservative brothers I would always feel different compared to the other girls it's great that I have a roommate who feels the same I accept you

they then held each other in an embrace

only for Vyvyan and Neil to walk in

Neil said "Rick's a transvestite"

Rick was offended at them ruining such an emotional moment

"STOP BRINGING THAT UP!"

Vyvyan joked

"is that why you have girly pigtails in your hair?"

Rick whined

"OF COURSE NOT beside it's in fashion now for men to have more femmine hairstyles"

Kelsie smirked at him

"so you won't be offended by the poof comments?"

Rick was still glaring at Vyv and neil but he smiled when addressing Kelsie

"Not particularly but I want all men to love each other like brothers men like you"

Vyvyan laughed while he started a slapstick fight with Rick

"HA Rick's still a poof"

Rick screamed fighting back

"AM NOT"

Neil asked

"So you're Gay?"

Rick ranted

"NO, I just wish males were more friendly towards each other!"

Neil moaned

"Gay also means happy"

Rick kept shouting

"When am I ever Happy?"

Vyvyan smirked

"then why did you smile at kelsey and not at us?"

( while kelsey just watched tv ignoring the others they were blushing.)

Chapter Management

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Chapter 5

: The Reveal (Vyvyan)Summary:

After what happened earlier Vyvyan decides to go to a Rock festival with Kelsie which he unexpectedly enjoyed (both the music and the cuddling)

Chapter Text

Vyvyan announced

"I've got tickets to a punk festival who wants to join me?"

Kelsie decided to join him

(At the concert)

Vyvyan and Kelsey were sitting on a picnic rug eating mozzarella sticks, hot dogs, and junk food while enjoying the music

Vyvyan felt like maybe he could make a move while he had the chance so he put his hand round, Kelsie, while she was busy bobbing her head along to the musical screeching she found the cuddle to be quite comfortable

Usually Vyvyan was the tough type who was rowdy, loud and tough but on the inside, he had a soft spot for women and platonic emotional connection he would never tell any of the housemates that except for that one time he accidentally joked/blurted out to Rick one time that he fancied him Rick was the poof not him.

It was a fun concert but the fuzzy feeling he had in his heart made the concert more enjoyable than it was planned to be

then the band Against Me! performed onstage

Kelsie awoke from her Nap "is that Laura Jane Grace?"

Vyvyan nodded as he ate from his crisp packet

halfway through the performance, Kelsie asked: "Do you like Against Me?"

Vyvyan yelled

"Of Course I bloody love them one of my favorite punk bands of all time"

Kelsie lowered her voice

"Vyv can I tell you something?"

Vyvyan said

"What? you're going to have to yell It's a bit hard to hear you

Kelsie made her voice louder

"It's something personal Vyv"

Vyvyan answered

"alright whisper it then"

Kelsie explained

"Vyvyan sometimes I feel like a bloke sometimes I know I'm biologically a female but I don't feel like one I like the idea of transitioning but I want to wait for a while first because of the risks involved

am I a bloke or am I a woman?

Vyvyan understood

"I know that feeling all too well Kelsie, a few years ago I myself started my transition from a woman to a bloke it was a rocky road but worth it, in the end, I'll give you advice sod what people think whether your a bloke a woman or anything in between your still Kelsie and that's what matters"

Kelsie smiled as he and Vyv headbanged to the song being performed only for Vyvyan to hold Kelsie's hand before they cuddled

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Chapter 6

: We are all Mad hereSummary:

the authors ideas on the backstories of the characters (including Kelsie)

Chapter Text

Neil wasn't just a hippy he was a trustafarian while he loved learning about different cultures and saving the planet he came from a very posh high-class family but there is a reason for his self-deprecation because he was so different compared to his family he felt like an outcast so much so he questioned whether or not he was needed at all he eventually just stopped caring about himself altogether.

He became what was known as a flower child he had a connection to nature that others in his family didn't while he hated society he loved the theory of the world's existence whether it meant the many flowers in his families garden or the amazing animals he would find at the zoo.

He learned about Buddhism and he decided to study peace studies at university and made a friend there at Scumbag college he met 3 other misfits, even though he thinks they don't care about him they do they have a soft heart on the inside.

Vyvyan was a troubled child his mom was a shoplifting bartender who cared more about drinking, smoking & stealing than caring for her daughter turned son, she and Vyvyan would sometimes fight and because of her behavior Vyvyan had trouble fitting in as a child other kids were scared of him, authority challenged and broke him mentally he was a rough kid often mistaken for a bully when really he just wanted friends but his own bullies made him bite back making his behaviour violent at times when he didn't want to be.

His dad was ok for a short time he was in his life but  his mom divorced and due to his dad's busy work schedule they rarely spoke however... he did introduce Vyvyan to the Metal scene due to enjoying many horror movies and comics that involved different creatures and scientific experiments that gave Vyvyan the idea to study medicine while he hated society he also hated how diseases like "AIDS" and "Cancer" had the ability to kill so many people.

The reason why he acts strangely is because of how he was raised, he didn't know any better and was mostly raised on television,comic books and the working class neighborhood he lived in that and other than his metalhead buddies at scumbag college he didn't really have any friends to mess with or joke around with or share his video games with he hides it with the anger problems he has but deep down he does care.

Mike's dad was an Italian immigrant who would often bring girls home to pleasure  Mike had a happy childhood but he knew the government and society were crumbling by the time Margaret Thatcher became prime minister he inherited his flirting skills from his papa, he was close to his dad but he had no idea what happened to his mother not that he cares anyway.

Rick was an outcast despite being raised conservative he leaned more left when Margaret Thatcher was in office Rick would cringe internally when he'd hear what her next scheme was going to be on the news he didn't feel like other guys  they were all about sports, getting girls and being tough while he was more interested in changing the world, the arts and fashion he often would write poetry when feeling down so he used that to his advantage.

However his parents didn't really approve of some of his choices and would often take their anger out on him Rick didn't have many friends despite trying to join various groups at school giving up but having developed an ego due to his good grades to hide the fact he was hating life he made jokes but not many people would find those jokes funny he thought he was entertaining the audience when really he was annoying them.

He went on to study sociology at school he also read up about socialism and anarchism and felt like starting a rebellion (in his head).

He genuinely is a weak coward and he knows it but he hates that fact too so he distracts himself often whether it be with poetry, mind games or just failing to get back at Vyvyan for 80th prank he pulled on him that week he may get irritated by Vyvyan and Neil's shenanigans but they are the only friends he has...well until Kelsie came along.

Kelsie never really fitted in at school she used to think she could entertain people like Rick but after getting bullied by kids younger than her  she stopped that idea she was interested in fantasy and witchcraft but then a rumour was spread around the school saying Kelsie was possessed and worshiped the devil she did not want her brothers to find out about her religious beliefs.

After doing research Kelsie became an anarchist she was often used as a scapegoat and felt socially awkward often sometimes tilting her head randomly or occasionally stuttering due to a development disorder she has but never mentions. She had a confusing personality trying to be kind but as times passed became more stoic and emotionless due to trust issues via the internet she delved into escapism through tv, music, anime and various other media based outlets.

She moved to scumbag college and ended up in the same student house as Neil, Vyvyan, Rick and Mike she felt more accepted there and every day was a day of laughter, randomness and unexpected hijinks after joining Kelsie started working on her social skills and wasn't as shy as before.

(despite Kelsie being the same Kelsie from the Matzelberger stories since this is in a more human universe her backstory is slightly more like "Kelsey" (the author) than Kelsie (the OC).

Chapter 7

: Why am I screaming why can't I stop?Summary:

Kelsie has a unexpected panic attack,luckily the boys try to help her

Chapter Text

(Note: this particular scenario was based off a real-life event that happened to me but that didn't end as well as this scenario did)

Sometimes your mind plays tricks on you and sometimes you are your own worst enemy

Kelsie had planned to spend the Saturday afternoon relaxing, However, that didn't go as planned she didn't feel well but not in an "I have a cold way" in an "I'm shaking and shivering and I can't stop while uncontrollably crying" way.

Kelsie tried distracting herself with music but something odd was happening

her hands felt shivery, her stomach was continuously feeling warm and sweaty

then Kelsie started to howl  as she held her throat lightly it felt warm, dry and she was drowsy a little faint

Kelsey's mouth felt like it was blocked by something feeling like she wanted to choke

her body was heating up like an oven and her mind was giving her a feeling of terror and fear

this caught the attention of a certain spotty faced anarchist as he ran down the stairs wondering where the screaming was coming from

"Kelsie?  a-are you alright?" he said concerned

Kelsie shook her head "No Rick I feel like I'm having a panic attack" Kelsie burst into tears "why can't I stop crying I was fine earlier?". "make it stop make it stop WHY CAN'T I STOP??"

Rick tried to understand what was going on as he ran over to the sofa

"Oh dear"

he tried to reassure Kelsie

"it's ok I'm here um how many breaths can you take?"

Kelsie started to attempt some breaths

Rick nodded

"that's good"

before Rick pondered

"As much as I don't want to ask Vyvyan for help I'll probably have to he is a medical student so he'd know more about handling these situations than I do"

"Stay on that sofa Kelsie  I just need to go and get something I'll be right back," he said before running upstairs past the hallway into Vyvyan's pigsty of a bedroom

"VYVYAN!!!!" he yelled

Vyvyan yelled back

"what do you want?"

Rick asked

"Do you have any books about Panic Attacks?"

Vyvyan complained

"what would you need my bloody textbooks for???"

Rick explained

"it's Kelsie she's had a panic attack"

Vyvyan understood

"Oh... have you made her breathe in and out?"

Rick nodded

"Yes her breathing is normal but she's been sweating, shivering and feeling drowsy"

Vyvyan answered

"Right I'll see what I can do"

Vyvyan and Rick ran downstairs where Kelsie was sitting her legs felt weak shaking like a jellyfish

Rick said

"Kelsie! Vyvyan's here I think he might know how to help"

Vyvyan then got a cold washcloth and lightly rested it against Kelsey's face, Neil was told about the situation so he prepared a tea with two sugars and some milk.

Kelsie was eventually able to settle as she laid snug in a blanket as she watched some tv with Rick and Vyvyan Kelsie got better in the past when she would have panic attacks she would've either hid the fact she was having one or she was left to deal with it herself at least now she had Vyvyan, Rick, Neil and sometimes Mike she wasn't alone.

The Young Ones may be a boisterous bunch but they are a soft bunch as much as they don't like to admit it sometimes.

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Chapter 8

: Cuddles

It's a Stormy night resulting in power outages and a certain punk showing a weakness of his

It was like any other evening at Scumbag College as the storm crackled in the dark dim sky.

Mike was upstairs with some bird he somehow managed to get with

struggling to find food in the kitchen was the grubby self-deprecating Hippie Neil scavenging the fridge for leftovers as he rarely used the oven even if he did that would be dangerous considering the appalling weather.

Trying to ignore the noise was Rick in his room listening to some Dexy's Midnight Runners before the radio paused to static.

Kelsie was sitting at the table doing some coursework on the other side of the room Vyvyan was playing a video game.

Up in Rick's room when the radio and lights turned off it gave Rick a surprise.

"Oh Well that's just bloody great isn't it because of Thatcher and Republican oil deals it's been messing with the weather which is preventing me from enjoying some pop music stupid fascists they'll stomp on anyone's fun"

with a bored shrug, Rick reluctantly went downstairs to see what the rest of the flatmates were up to.

Rick ran down the damp steps when he heard a groan coming from Kelsey trying to practice some play dialogue for their coursework.

"Ugh I can't do it the words are coming out but my tone just doesn't fit the scenario and I just can't seem to smile today IT'S ALWAYS A FAKE ONE!"

"Now Kelsey I'm sure you can do it I fake a smile all the time what emotion is your character supposed to show?" replied Rick in a soft sounding tone while a stoic stubborn Kelsey answered coldly with

"Happiness"

Oh well, how do you feel when you are with me, Vyvyan, Mike, and Neil when you have to put up with all their nonsense and feel so eccentric your skin crawls?"

Kelsey took a bite into her Dorito before saying in a more neutral, calm laid back sort of way "I don't mind it actually It's quite a funny feeling like I  belong with you guys seeing what odd scheme Mike's planning or what concoction Vyvyan is preparing is a thrill to my day".

Rick was taken aback but it made him grin a little except it wasn't out of arrogance like it usually was.

clapping his hands together he said, "See? you can be happy sometimes when you are playing your southern belle stereotype just think that some of us are there with you sure you'll be able to steal the show!"

"Thanks" mumbled Kelsey sounding timid under her duffle coat while she proceeded to pack up her scripts and file folders into her bag placing it next to other bags under the staircase.

The Thunder had turned into lighting as the bolts struck the sky with a loud "CRACK".

Kelsey and Rick joined Vyvyan on the sofa while Vyvyan ignored them to focus on his game swiftly fidgeting the buttons on his controller staring at the blinding television screen despite how bleak the room had become.

Mike was trying to shag a gorgeous woman he was with....when the lights went out

He couldn't see a thing not even the irresistible looking woman sitting before him clad in only underwear.

As she tried to get to the next base, Mike was still puzzled he knew he was in his room but he didn't have a clue that he was supposed to be laid tonight suddenly he felt several sharp pricks at various regions of his body he fell backward feeling idiosyncratic as he left the room. After he had seen some light he noticed the lady had dug her painful fingernails into particular areas of his body Mike was usually the calm, collected flatmate of the group but not this time.

he yelped "ahh!" as he dashed downstairs clambering onto the sofa before shutting up

the final crack of lightening hit the power supply when Neil came running to the back of the sofa blocking Vyvyan's view while he completed the game Vyvyan was confused since the words "GAME OVER" are usually displayed when you die in a video game

it terrified him to notice his surroundings seeing the four other people taking up his space

the little hot headed metal head punk had enough as he screamed

screaming louder than the sound barrier making the electricity work again like magic

"Whoah! that was heavy like heavier than Thor's hammer" exclaimed Neil in wonder at what had just happened

Vyvyan shuddered feeling quiet a feeling he would only really show during classes or when sleeping

h-hold me he meekly said under his breath like if his voice colliding with the Thunder was too much for him

almost like he was scared though he would never ever admit to being scared of anything

Vyvyan? asked Rick concerned that his normally loud psychotic rival was acting like more of a "poof" than he was

"There there," said, Mike, as he rubbed calming circles on Vyvyan's back Kelsey lightly rested his head on Vyvyan's shoulder and Rick gave Vyvyan a gentle cuddle startling him slightly

"You Poof what are you doing?"

"I'm cheering you up matey you were scared of the thunder weren't you that's a bit soft ain't it?"

Vyvyan hated that his weakness was revealed sobbing a little not being able to think of any insults to get back at rick with

"Cuddles are alright even if they are for poofs" Vyvyan answered calming down before an irritated Rick started arguing with him making the punk smirk as the sun started to come out starting the beginning of another day.

Chapter 9

: Apolitical Anarchy

Rick and Kelsie babble about politics

Kelsie and Rick were protesting

Kelsie held a megaphone as she said

"Teresa May is trying to turn Britain into an authoritarian government

Rick said "Teresa's bloody Britain that's what I say"

Later a news crew who were recording people who were voting recorded their protest.

the News Reporter asked, "are you voting for labour or the tories?"

Rick proudly stood on his soapbox

"None of the above"

the News Reporter added what about Ukip?

Kelsie said "they are a bunch of fascists"

(later)

Rick innocently asked, "What is Northern Ireland's political spectrum like?"

Kelsie blankly stared "it's crap"

[astro-b-o-y-d]

The Long Road Home Pt. 3

The next three chapters of SOSO are finally here! Author’s notes and additional fic warnings are on Ao3. And trust me, you’ll want to read them.

[Read on Ao3]

It was about five minutes before Max heard a knock behind him. "Max?"

Of course. "...Go away, David."

"Max, please open the door."

"You should go back to your guests," Max said, pulling his knees to his chest. "They're going to worry."

"Them? I'm worried about you."

"You're not supposed to worry about me today," Max said loudly. "You're supposed to be crying over Campbell! Just...just go back downstairs, okay? I'm fine."

"Max, you're not fine," David said. "You're clearly upset by something."

"Yeah, well...if you stick around until I AM fine, then you're gonna be here for a while!" Max said angrily.

"Max, please, just tell me what happened," David said. "You know I want to help-"

"I know you do!" Max said loudly. "You're a good fucking person, who cares about me, and I know that, okay?! You're probably the best parent I've had since my actual parents died, and I'm just a terrible, angry kid with a ton of fucking emotional issues that I shouldn't be afraid to talk to you about! But I am! Because every other foster parent I've had would either yell at me, straight up ignore me, or get sick of me if I went to them about this kind of shit! And I know you know this, I just..."

His words trailed off and he reached up to scrub at his eyes. "My parents didn't get a funeral either and I didn't want you to go through what I did. But I'm a fucking idiot who saw you crying over Campbell and made a leap that fucking stupid. I'm a double idiot for not thinking that maybe being at a damn memorial service while trying to repress all that shit might not be the smartest fucking idea. I'm a triple idiot for yelling at Neil and Nikki when all they wanted to do was help me and for yelling at everyone else when they didn't do anything wrong..."

He inhaled and exhaled heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. "I'm just...I'm so...fucking stupid."

There was silence now, with only the distant chatter of the people in the backyard. For a moment, Max thought that David had given up and went to rejoin them.

Until he heard David speak again: "Max, please open the door."

His voice had gone soft, serious... Like the day at the bonfire. And it was enough to pull Max to his feet and take a few steps back. "It's already unlocked."

He had barely finished his sentence when David pushed the door open, set what looked like a cup of water on the nearest hard surface (which happened to be his dresser) and wrapped his arms around Max in a tight, comforting hug.

Max tensed up for a moment, before letting his face fall against David's shirt, where he began to cry harder. He cried over his parents, he cried over the burning guilt he felt over the fact that David now had to take time away from the service to comfort him, he cried over the fact that he felt like a damn idiot and an asshole when he could have simply gone and asked for help.

He cried while David held him, and he could feel David's hand rubbing his back in a comforting motion. "It's okay, Max..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Shh, shh, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I'm so fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid, Max."

"But I thought I was getting better!" he said, lifting his head up to look at David. "I...I thought I was finally over this stupid emotional bullshit! I...I was happy. I was actually happy for the first time in a year! But then I saw you crying over Campbell's death, I thought about my parents dying and all my shitty foster families over the year, even though that's a stupid leap to make—"

"Max, I want to apologize to you."

Max fell silent as he stared at David. "What?"

"I should have never brought up Campbell's death to you," David said, his expression melting into a look of guilt. "Honestly, I didn't want to at all. But I was upset, and I...I didn't hear you kids coming home and I'm not exactly the best liar around, you know this. But I should have done a better job in breaking the news to you. I should have known better, and I am so, so sorry that I made you feel like you had to hide your feelings to the point where you broke down like this."

Max looked at the floor again. Of course David would feel bad about that. "It wasn't your fault, okay? I was going to tell you after the service, but...well, you saw how well that turned out."

David cupped Max's face with one hand, and let his thumb brush his tears away. "Max, I am so flattered that you wanted today to be special for me. But it's not your responsibility to worry about me, okay? It's my job to take care of you, not the other way around. And when you're this upset, the first thing I want you to do is tell me so I can help you."

Max felt more tears fall down his face. "I know. God, I know. Everyone keeps telling me what I already know, and I want to believe it, but..."

David's expression softened. "Do you remember the stories I used to tell you about my time at camp? The ones about the boy I used to hang out with."

"Depends on which story it is," Max said. "You've told a lot of them."

"It's...not a story I like to discuss often," David said. "It involves a lot of things I...don't like to think about. But it involves that other boy. And...a confession."

"A confession?"

David hesitated to respond for a moment. "...Mr. Campbell's death...wasn't the first one that affected me so negatively."

Max's eyes widened with realization. "O...oh..."

David nodded sadly. "I won't go into too many details, you're already upset enough as it is. But...I too went through a difficult time as a result of my friend's death. I was angry, sad...I spent a lot of time in my tent, isolated from everyone else. I slipped back into a lot of old, shameful behaviors, and did a lot of things I regret. I...even tried to run away from camp several times because everything just...hurt. It hurt to think about him, and to be there when he couldn't be. And I was afraid to ask for help, because I didn't want to be an inconvenience to anyone."

Max stared at David in shock as he continued to speak: "I know how it feels to be afraid to ask for help, Max. Believe me, I know how scary it is. And I know how it feels to not want someone you love and care about to go through all the bad things you did."

Max continued to stare up at David as more tears formed. David had gone through all the same shit that he had gone through? More than once? He had spent the entire day attempting to repress his emotions for David's sake, when David probably understood better than anyone how much it hurt? How horrible it was to cry alone, how angry and sad and desperate he felt? How he could have just asked someone for help but didn't because everything inside him was telling him no, you would only bother them. They wouldn't care. Or if they did care, you would only be inconveniencing them.

He let his head fall. "I really am a fucking idiot for not talking to you sooner..."

"You're not an idiot, Max," David said, gently tilting his chin up. "You're very smart and clever and creative, and you've been through a lot of terrible things. More things than any child should have to deal with in their lifetime. Of course you're not always going to be able to deal with your emotions properly or you're going to be scared to ask for help, and that's okay."

David's mouth curled into a soft smile. "But I will promise you right here and now that no matter what I'm doing, no matter what it is, I will never be too busy for you if you need someone to talk to. You are the most important thing in my life now, Max; not Mr. Campbell, not the camp, not anything else in the world. And if I have to tell you that every single day, just so you know you can believe it, then I will. I will until the day comes where you no longer need to hear it to believe it, and even then, I'll keep saying it just in case you have a bad day and need to hear it again. Because I never, ever want you to forget it."

It was everything he knew David would say, and yet he felt more tears, grateful tears of joy, well up in his eyes as he let David hug him close again. At one point, he felt David pull away (likely to give him space) but Max refused to let go. So David continued to hold him close and let him cry, once again rubbing his back and softly assuring him that everything was going to be okay.

He cried because while he had known David cared about him more than life itself, it felt so good to hear it. He cried because while he still felt so stupid for needing David's help in the first place, it felt like a huge weight that had only grown heavier and heavier throughout the year had finally been lifted off his shoulders. He cried because crying felt so fucking good and cathartic.

Mostly, he cried because he could.

Eventually, he stood up straight again and took a deep breath. "Thanks, David..."

"How're you feeling?" David asked.

"...Well, my head hurts like hell," Max said weakly. "But I...I feel a little better. A lot better, actually."

David chuckled. "Do you think you're ready to head back downstairs, or would you rather stay up here for the rest of the service?"

Max looked towards his bedroom window, which lay facing the backyard. "...You know what, you go ahead and go. I'll stay here for a few minutes, maybe make it look like I wasn't just a gross, emotional wreck. I mean, I know everyone else is sobbing their eyes out, but I do have a representation to uphold. One that is...probably ruined by now, but shut the fuck up and let me pretend."

"Are you sure you want me to leave you here by yourself?" David asked. "I can stay with you as long as you need me to."

"I'm fine," Max said truthfully. "Honest. I'll be down in a few."

David nodded and rose to his feet. "Drink that water I brought up for you before you come back outside. It'll help with the headache."

Of course David would think of that. "Alright."

With a smile, David gently ruffled his hair (a motion that, for once, Max didn't mind). "I love you, Max."

"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know," Max said, attempting to hid his own smile.

"I'd rather tell you something you do know, just to make sure you never forget it," David said fondly.

"...Okay, I've reached my sappiness quota for now," Max said, pushing him towards the door. "Save it for your guests."

His smile widening, David exited the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Max by himself once again. He stayed still for a moment before he headed for his bed. He sat down on top of the blanket and curled up by the window as he stared down at the backyard below.

The service was still going strong, and the crowd seemed pretty unaffected by Max's previous meltdown. Or perhaps none of them had paid it much attention outside his group, which was still gathered by the shed. He could see Neil and Nikki darting away from them and out of his line of vision towards the backdoor, where he assumed David was now standing.

Of course they'd want to know what happened. Max wondered if they would follow in David's footsteps and come up to check on him, but that thought was debunked when he saw them race back to the group a moment later.

They cared a lot about him. David cared a lot about him. People actually cared about him now.

His fingers gently brushed his left sleeve and he looked down at it as if he could see the scars that lay past the fabric. People actually cared about him now...

He found himself smiling wider as he rose from the bed and headed for the cup of water on his dresser. He felt his headache fade the tiniest amount as he quickly downed the water and left the room, the glass still in hand.

One was not going to cut it after the year's worth of tears he had cried in a matter of minutes.

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

It was about ten more minutes, three more glasses of water, and a few deep breaths before he finally stepped back outside.

"Max!"

And of course, Neil and Nikki were there waiting for him with worried looks on their faces. "How're you doing?" Nikki asked. "David said you were alright but-"

"I'm fine, Nik," he said. "I'm...really fine, actually."

"So you guys talked things out?" Neil asked.

"We did," Max said. "And of course it turned out fine. Like you both said, hell, like I said." He looked down at the deck beneath his feet. "I...I'm sorry, guys. I was a real dick."

"Was?" Neil asked, unable to hold back a smile.

"...I am a real dick," Max said, smiling in return. "I shouldn't have yelled at you guys, and I'm sorry."

"Aw, you know we can stay mad at you," Nikki said. "But...you will go to David if that happens again, right?"

Max nodded. "That I can promise. Uh...how mad is everyone else?"

Neil rubbed the back of his neck. "...Look, don't get mad, okay? But Space Kid might have let it slip that David was fostering you, so we might have explained everything to them. Well, not everything, nothing too personal or anything! Just...the basics so they got it. Please don't be mad."

"It's fine, Neil," Max said. "I should go apologize to them, too."

Neil nodded and the three of them headed back towards the group. The others paused their conversations and looked towards them as they approached, and Max felt a sudden sense of guilt welling up inside him as they came to a stop. "Uh... look-"

"Hey, Shakespeare, he's back!" Nurf called towards the direction of the shed.

Preston stepped out from the other side with a dainty stride and hurried back to the group. Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Preston stopped before him. "Hello, Max."

"Hey, Preston..." Max said. "Look, I'd just like to-"

Preston held up a hand. "Please, I insist you let me speak first. I've been rehearsing this since you ran off."

Max raised an eyebrow. "O...kay?"

Preston inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I have been informed that the topic of your parents is a...sensitive subject," he said. "And I'd like to apologize for upsetting you."

"...Wait, are you serious?" Max asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, Preston, you really didn't do anything wrong. I was just having a bad day, everything was setting me off. If anything, this was my fault—"

"Oh, no, I insist I make it up to you!" Preston said, his voice cracking as he removed his hat. "And to show you I'm serious, I...I will give you this."

"...Your hat?" Max asked.

"Not just a hat!" Preston said. "This hat used to belong to Lucas Grabeel and was originally going to be used in a scene in High School Musical, but was unfortunately cut for time! It's not even listed in the deleted scenes on the DVD!"

Max bit down hard on his lip to keep from cackling and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neil keel over in silent laughter. "H-High School Musical?" he managed to say with a straight face.

"Listen, you can laugh, but the trilogy holds up a lot better than most!" Preston said. "Tell me I'm wrong!"

"Preston," Max said with a chuckle. "It's fine, alright? You don't have to give me that."

"Oh, thank God," Preston said, placing the hat back on his head. "This thing's my most prized possession!"

"How'd you get it?" Neil asked with a snort. "Did you win it in a Radio Disney contest?"

"Yes, actually," Preston said proudly. "I'll bet I broke the hearts of at least three hundred preteen girls that day!"

"Well, I appreciate the...offer," Max said. "And look, I really am sorry I lashed out at you. It really wasn't cool, even if I was having a bad day."

"And I apologize if my egregious behavior didn't make matters any easier," Preston said.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, you got your dumb apologies out of the way," Nurf said from the table. "Let's move on to the more important topic."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Which is-?"

"How cool it is that David's fostering you!" Nurf said, raising his hands. "I mean, my foster parents are alright, but you got David? Man, some kids get all the luck. I mean, aside from the dead parents thing, my condolences."

Max's eyes widened. "Wait...you're a foster kid, too? ...Wait, you're jealous of me?"

"Yeah, I was going to mention it before you stormed off," Nurf pointed out. "I mean, my parents have been in and out of prison more times than I can count. It was only a matter of time before they lost custody of me. And as for the other thing, yeah, of course I'm jealous. The camp might have sucked, but I think we can all agree David made it suck less."

"I really like David!" Space Kid said cheerfully. "He's so nice!"

"And forgiving," Dee added softly.

"Yeah, David's a total dork," Ered said. "But in a way that's kind of cool, you know? Like a dorky dad."

"Well, you're not wrong there," Max said. "But, uh...still, I'm sorry I was an asshole earlier."

"Everyone has their bad days, man," Nurf said. "I get them all the time. It's why I'm seeing a therapist in the first place."

"Plus, you've always been kind of an asshole," Ered pointed out.

Max chuckled. "Yeah, alright, fair. I deserved that."

"So what is David like as a parent?" Preston asked. "Does he make you go camping like, every other weekend?"

"Yeah, like I'd ever agree to that," Max said. "But...he's alright. Definitely better than the other ones I've had. Even if he bought, like, five different wax melters for the house and only uses the pine-scented when he could just walk across the yard if he wants to smell pine trees so badly."

"My foster mom has one of those," Nurf said. "She says they're a lot safer to use than candles. Less risk of starting a fire."

"Less risk of..." Max's expression melted into a look of fondness. "Okay, I take it back: David's the fucking best and you should all be super jealous that your parents aren't as cool as him."

"Maybe he can adopt all of us, too," Neil said jokingly. "It'll be just like camp again."

"Oh, God, don't you dare give him that idea," Max said.

A scattered laugh spread throughout the group. "You know...it's weird," Max said, looking around at them. "We were the last group that attended that stupid camp before it got shut down, and probably the group here who hated it most. And yet...we all still came to this memorial service. Even if it was because we had nothing better to do with our day, we're all still here."

He shrugged. "I don't know, does anyone else have this weird feeling inside them? Not, like, bad weird, but...weird? Like...maybe that camp wasn't as bad as we all thought? ...Okay, it was bad, but like, in hindsight, maybe it was also one of the best things to happen to us? Or am I just having a moment of gross weakness?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Neil said. "I mean, looking back, I would have killed to spend my summer someplace better. But then I wouldn't have met my best friends, or-" He glanced over at Harrison for a moment, who met his gaze. "-well, I wouldn't have met some of the most important people in my life."

"It was kind of fun at times," Ered said. "I think I broke every single one of my bones that summer. That was pretty cool."

"And I liked being out in the woods all the time," Nikki said. "Made me feel right at home."

"I learned a lot about...magic that summer," Harrison said, with a look towards Neil.

"And I liked learning about space!" Space Kid said cheerfully.

"Ugh, is this how David feels all the time?" Max asked. "All these gross, nostalgic emotions?"

"Yes, isn't it wonderful?" A voice said behind him.

Max made a half-amused face and turned around to face David. "...Speak of the devil."

"The eulogies are about to start," David said. "If any of you would like to come up and say a few words about Mr. Campbell-"

"Absolutely not," Max said, sinking into the nearest chair. "I may have been an emotional mess today, but I still hate the guy and I've got nothing good to say about him as a person."

"Pass," Neil said, as he and several of the other kids followed suit.

"Well, if I had been told ahead of time, I might have been able to prepare something," Preston said, crossing his arms. "But alas, I guess the dream is dead. Oh, maybe dead isn't the right word for this situation..."

David's smile widened. "I'm sure Mr. Campbell would have loved to hear it anyway, Preston."

"Of course he would," Preston said. "Everyone loves me."

"Yeah, you fucking wish," Max muttered under his breath as the rest of the kids took their seats.

David gave them all one last smile, which widened when his gaze landed on Max. "God, seeing you all together like this. I feel so honored I could call you all my campers at one point..."

"Don't you mean our campers, pal?"

David turned to see Gwen approaching the group. "Aww, Gwen..."

"What can I say?" she said. "I've always had a sort-of weakness for these little brats."

David gave her a fond smile. "Are you sure that you won't reconsider becoming a counselor again?"

"Tell you what," Gwen said. "You open up a camp of your own, and I'll consider applying for the job. No promises, but I'll consider it."

"You say that as if I haven't considered opening up one already," David said with a chuckle.

"God, will you two stop flirting and go cry over Campbell already?" Max said, rolling his eyes.

"Max, shut up!" Nikki said. "If we wait long enough, they might kiss!"

David chuckled and looked at the kids. "It's nothing like that, kids. Although, we do need to begin the eulogies."

Gwen nodded. "You need me to be up there with you in case you can't get through your speech without sobbing?"

"I think I can manage," David said, a smile on his face.

"Seriously, when are you two gonna kiss?!" Nikki asked, banging her fists on the table.

Both adults laughed as they headed for the memorial shrine in front of the crowd. Max looked back at the rest of the group. "So, Nikki's totally onto something and they were absolutely flirting, right?"

"Oh, no doubt," Harrison said.

"Absolutely," Preston added.

"Heh, maybe Max will have to start calling Gwen 'Mom' now," Nurf said. "...Is that too far? Am I going too far with the parent jokes?"

"Nah, you're fine, Nurf. You're full of shit, but you're fine," Max said with a laugh as he looked towards where David now stood.

He noticed David's sad smile as he waited for the crowd to settle in their seats. Even after everything that happened, even after he had spent a good part of the afternoon comforting him, David was still smiling.

He...hadn't ruined today for David.

They had both gotten their chances to grieve.

Max felt his mouth curl into a smile (he had smiled an awful lot today, more than he had in a long time) and more tears form at the corner of his eyes as David finally began to speak before the crowd.

"For those of you who might not have known me back during my first summer at Camp Campbell," David said. "I wasn't exactly what you'd call 'a good camper'."

There was a scattered laugh throughout the crowd. "Yes, yes, I know," David said with amusement. "I was quite the little troublemaker as a child. I didn't really like nature, and honestly, I didn't see what the big deal was about Camp Campbell. I was only there because my parents had sent me there for the summer, and I just...didn't get it. But a quest to rescue a missing camper with Mr. Campbell quickly changed all that for me, and I've been in love with the camp ever since."

His smile fell the slightest amount. "I attended the camp for many years after that, both as a camper and a counselor, and fell more and move in love with it with every passing summer. I wanted to share that love with everyone I came across and hope that they could come to feel as strongly about the camp as I did."

He reached up to rub his eyes for a moment before continuing: "For many of us, the summers spent at Camp Campbell were some of the best moments of our lives. For others, it was...less so. But regardless of our feelings on the camp, or Mr. Campbell himself, there's no denying that a summer at Camp Campbell is an experience that will not be forgotten in any of our lifetimes. Camp Campbell gave us memories. It gave us friends. For some of us, it even gave us a family. It gave us people that we never realized we so desperately needed in our lives until we met them all those summers ago."

David paused for a moment, a trembling hand over his mouth. "I realize that Mr. Campbell might not have been the best role model in the world, and I'm sure many of us would often look up to him with, admittedly, rose-tinted glasses. But no matter who he was or the less-than-ideal things he might have done both inside and outside of camp, I will always be grateful to him and Camp Campbell as a whole for being a part of my life. For giving me so many wonderful memories of those summers I spent at Camp Campbell. For helping me find my family."

He looked over at Max for a moment before turning his attention back to the crowd. "The death of a loved one is a sad thing. But in that sadness, we can find happiness if we're surrounded by people who care about us. People who will support us in those sad times, or will even cry right alongside us. And hopefully, with time and love, things can be okay for us again. Whether we're happy or sad, or any other emotions in between, things will be okay because we're surrounded by so much love. And I can say without a doubt that I've never felt more love in one area then here today."

His eyes watery, he looked towards the picture of Campbell. "And I think that a man who can create this much love between people can't be all bad. Thank you, Mr. Campbell. Thank you so much..."

David's voice trailed off and he began to cry again, as Gwen hurried up to the front to lead him back to his seat. Max instinctively reached up to wipe the tears from his own eyes as someone else went up to begin their own eulogy.

He still wasn't sad about Campbell in the slightest. But he cried anyway.

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

"You were right. Both of you," Max said. "I should have just gone to him first."

"We're sorry if we sort of pressured you into it," Nikki said. "We were just worried."

"I know," Max said. "But you know what? I needed someone to worry about me."

Nikki's smile widened as she gave him a big hug. "Well, you know we'll always worry about you, you little stinker!"

"Haha, alright, don't start with the height jokes," Max said, pushing her away.

"Hey, Max!" Space Kid said, as he and Dee hurried towards the table where the trio were seated. "Thanks again for inviting us! We had fun! ...I mean, even though it was about death."

"Mwack."

Space Kid looked down at the platypus in his arms. "And thanks for finding Mwack for us!"

"No problem, man," Max said. "Oh, by the way, if you're taking input on that name thing, how about...I dunno, Comet? It's space-related and it sounds cool."

Space Kid's eyes went wide. "Comet! I like it! Dee, do you like it?"

"I like it!" Dee said happily.

"Then my name is Comet!" Space Kid said, clapping his hands together. "Come on, Dee, we gotta tell my mom!"

"Bye, Max!" Dee said, waving as Space Kid led him away with his platypus-free hand.

Max felt Neil nudge him in the side. "Comet?"

"It's a thing I don't feel like explaining," Max said. "Also, judging by the fact that you didn't question the name 'Dee', I assume that he talked to you about that...other thing?"

"It was while you were upstairs," Neil confirmed.

"So...you think he's serious?" Max asked. "About trying to be better?"

Neil shrugged. "Look, I've known grown men and women who got offended at being called out on their shitty, antisemitic behavior. If he's truly serious about trying to break away from all that, then I have no beef with him. Plus, he was like...eight at camp when all that was happening, I really can't stay mad at a fucking eight-year-old who's just parroting his parents."

"Say 'parroting his parents' again, it's funny," Nikki said.

Max looked back towards Dee and Space Kid (or...Comet) as they hurried towards the backyard gate. They were clearly engaged in an inaudible conversation, and even at a distance, Max could see the fond look on Dee's face as he listened to the other speak.

"...Holy shit, I know that look," Max said, as he nudged Neil frantically. "That's the look you have when you're talking to Harrison."

"Well, I'll be damned," Nikki said. "I guess the three of us weren't the only ones with gay camp crushes."

"Uh, three?" Max asked. "I didn't have a gay crush, Nikki."

Nikki jerked her thumb towards the backyard gate where Preston was leaving. "What about—"

"Nikki, don't start with that!" Max said, crossing his arms.

"Aw, come on!" Nikki said. "You had to have a crush on someone at that camp!"

"No, I really didn't," Max said. "No one has to have a crush on anyone. Crushes are a social pressure that make people feel like they HAVE to date someone as soon as possible, when honestly, it's not all that big of a deal if you wait. At least, that's how I feel about them."

"Oh, shoot, Ered's leaving!" Nikki said, raising her voice. "Hey, Ered, wait!"

Ered and Nurf stopped by the gate at the sound of Nikki's voice and, like Dee and Space Kid, they approached the table.

"Hey, Nikki," Ered said, crossing her arms. "Your girls give the okay for the skate-off Saturday?"

"You know it!" Nikki said excitedly. "And we're going to crush you and your girl like the gay little insects you are!"

"You may have numbers, but Marissa and I met in a skate park," Ered said. "We've also made out in one three times."

"Nice, nice," Nikki said, impressed. "But we're still going to win."

"In your dreams, little girl," Ered said. "We're going to stomp you."

"Well, we'll just see about that on Saturday, hot shot," Nikki said boastfully.

Ered gave her double finger guns, while Nurf rolled his eyes and pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. "Here, Max, I almost forgot to give this to you."

"Me?" Max asked, looking down at the paper curiously.

"It's my therapist's number," Nurf said. "Like I said before, I've only been with him for a few months and I realize therapy's not for everybody. But you seem like you're going through a lot, and I figured I could try and help."

Max looked down at the card. "Oh...thanks, Nurf. That's...surprisingly nice of you."

"Hey, I might be an asshole," Nurf said. "But even I know there's some lines you do not cross when it comes to bullying. Example, I'll make fun of Neil's terrible facial hair-"

"Thank you, Nurf."

"-but I won't make fun of the fact that when he wasn't helping you, he and Harrison couldn't take their eyes off each other," Nurf finished. "Mostly because I'd be a hypocrite for making fun of him for that and if I wasn't a hypocrite, then I know Ered and Nikki would kick my ass for it, but details."

"Aww, was it that obvious?!" Neil asked miserably.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure all of us are some kind of gay," Ered said. "It's not that hard to pick up on."

"I didn't pick up on it," Max said.

"Hey, every group has to have a token straight," Ered said.

"Dang, maybe I was way off," Nikki said.

"Oh, shut up, Nikki!"

Ered laughed. "Come on, Nurf, we gotta go catch our bus."

"I still don't know why we couldn't ride your motorcycle to get here," Nurf grumbled.

"Uh, bitch, are you dating me?" Ered asked. "Didn't think so."

Nurf continued to grumble as the two of them hurried towards back towards the gate and Max let out a sigh. "Is it just me, or...is everyone from camp a lot cooler than I remember?"

"Eh, I think they've always been cool," Nikki said.

"Yeah," Neil added. "I mean, we were asshole kids suffering together at camp, and now we're all a bunch of cynical teenagers. I mean, sure we had our fights and got on each other's nerves. But most of us clicked so easily even after years of seeing each other. Us three. Harrison and Nerris. Harrison and me. Dee, Space Kid—"

"Comet."

"You know who I mean," Neil said. "We've all stuck together after all this time. In a weird sense, I guess we're almost like a family."

"Family..." Max said slowly, as he looked over at the table where David and Gwen were seated. "Hey, you guys mind if I go talk to David about something?"

"Like you need to ask us," Neil said.

"...Good point," Max said, rising to his feet. "Later, losers."

Nikki laughed and tossed a crumbled up napkin at Max as he headed away from them. The backyard was so quiet now, with most of the guests now gone. The only ones left outside of the five of them were Harrison and Nerris, who were also seated at one of the tables. Max could hear them engaged in some nerd conversation as he passed them ("Look, all I'm saying is that Magic Brian would have kicked Edward and Lydia's asses." "Okay, but I think we're missing the big picture here, Harrison. Imagine him dating one of them and what a power couple they'd be." "Which one?" "Does it matter, they're both super hot?" "...I mean, you're not wrong.") and he continued on towards David and Gwen.

On the table before them, he could see David's camp scrapbook, and he could hear them laughing as he got closer. "Aww, look at how little they all were. God, this takes me back."

"You know, you're doing a very bad job at convincing me that you didn't like the camp," David said with a smile.

"I know," Gwen said. "But hey, how about this? You take me on your next camping trip and I'll bitch and moan the entire time just like the old days."

"Again, don't test me," David said. "Because I will hold you to that."

Gwen laughed and gently pushed him. "Oh, shut up."

Max came to a stop before them. "Hey, can I borrow David if you two are doing making googly-eyes at one another?"

"Haha, very funny," Gwen said, as she stood up. "I do have to head out anyway. I'm meeting with my publisher in about an hour."

"Ooh, are you finally going to get one of your stories published?" David asked excitedly.

"You know it, buddy!" Gwen said, with a finger gun motion. "You remember the one about the werewolves in space?"

"I do!" David said. "Oh, that was such a good one."

"Well, if this meeting works out, then you'll be the first one to receive a published copy," Gwen said.

"I can't wait!" David said excitedly.

With a chuckle, Gwen leaned down to give him a hug. "God, it was really good to see you again, David. We have to find more time to hang out than just once every five months."

"I'd like that a lot, Gwen," David said, hugging her back. "I mean, I guess today proves more than ever that we should spend as much time with the people we care about while we can. Just message me after your meeting and we can figure something out."

"Sounds like a plan," Gwen said, and stood up straight again with a look towards Max. "And you, be good to David, alright?"

"What? I'm always good to him," Max said, faking offense. "Have a little faith in me, Gwen!"

Gwen laughed and waved goodbye as she headed for the gate. David let out a content sigh as he watched her go, and Max slipped into one of the empty chairs. "Okay, seriously, if you're going to ask her out, you should."

David's cheeks flushed red. "It's not like that, Max. We're just friends."

"Alright," Max said. "If you say so. I've got people trying to tell me who to hook up with so I won't do that to you. But...you know, if you did like her, you definitely should tell her. I'm just saying."

David smiled and looked down at the scrapbook. "Gosh, you kids have grown up so much. It's a shame I couldn't get a picture of all of you now."

Max shrugged. "Well, I mean...you could just invite everyone back here for a picture. I don't know if you know this, but you're surprisingly popular as a parent. Then again, nearly everyone else's parents suck, so I guess it's not that surprising."

David looked at him. "How are you doing?"

"Honestly?" Max asked. "I feel better than I have in a while. You?"

David smiled. "As long as you're happy, then I'm happy."

"Yeah, okay, now I know that's a lie," Max said, crossing his arms. "You've been happy longer than I have."

David simply smiled, and looked towards the end of the yard where the forest began. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"About what?"

David looked back at him. "About being happy here."

"Oh...that," Max said. "...Yeah. I did. Even after, no, especially after everything that happened today, I...I'm happier than I've been at any other foster home."

David's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear it, Max. You deserve to be happy."

Max paused for a moment. "And...did you mean what you said? About...family and all that stuff?"

"Of course I did, Max," David said. "I wouldn't have a son if it weren't for those summers at Camp Campbell. I wouldn't know Gwen or my old counselors or any of the campers. Honestly, I'm not sure where I would be without it."

Max felt a surge of warmth spread from his chest to the rest of his body at David's use of the word 'son'. "Yeah, well, I'm sure you would have been a foster parent either way," he said aloud. "And if you didn't get me, you would have probably gotten some other kid instead."

"Well, then I must be the luckiest man alive," David said fondly. "Because I got one of the best kids in the world. One I wouldn't trade for anything."

"Gross, how can you still be that sappy after all the sad shit that happened today?" Max asked, making no attempt to hide his smile. "Aren't you tired?"

"I'm never too tired to make someone feel good about themselves," David said, a pleased expression his face. "Especially not my kid."

Max rolled his eyes, his smile widening at the word 'kid'. David really loved him. Of course David loved him. Like there was ever a doubt. He let his gaze drift back to the others, who had gathered at one table. Neil and Nikki, they loved him too. They cared about him.

And Harrison, Nerris, everyone else... He wouldn't go so far as to say they loved him, too. But they cared about him. People cared about him.

His hand instinctively traveled to his pocket and he pulled out the little scrap of paper that Nurf had given him. People cared about him... "Hey, David?"

"Yes, Max?"

He set the scrap of paper on the table. "Nurf gave me his therapist's number. Would...it be possible to maybe see if they're any good? I mean, you, Neil and Nikki are great, but...I don't know, if I'm really going to be living here a while, I don't want to have to constantly go to all of you when I'm having a hard time. I think it might be good to have someone else to go to the next time I have a day like this. Maybe?"

He let his voice trail off with an uncertain shrug as he waited for David's answer. "Why, Max, I think that's a wonderful idea!" David said. "We could talk to your social worker, and see if that can be an option for you. I'm sure she'll love the idea, too."

"Yeah, I'm sure she will," Max said. "Um...did she ever tell you about what happened with my last family?"

David's smile fell a bit. "She did. I wasn't going to bring it up, until you felt comfortable enough to talk about it. But I won't pretend I haven't been worried since she mentioned it."

"I'm...I'm not going to do that again, okay?" Max assured him. "I know it was stup-I mean...I know it wasn't a good idea. I don't want to do it again. I'm not going to do it again. And if I feel like I need to, I'll...I'll let you know, okay?"

David nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, Max."

"And...David?"

"Yes?"

"...Stand up for a second."

Curious, David stood up from his seat while Max did the same. He headed around the table towards David and stared up at him for a moment in silence. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around David in a warm hug. "Thanks again. For everything."

David smiled and hugged Max in return. "You're welcome, Max."

Max felt the all-too-familiar sensation of tears welling up in his eyes and he once again let himself cry against the fabric of David's shirt.

Because he knew he still could. And he knew that he would be okay once the tears finally stopped.

[someoneesthings]

What do you do when you feel sad? حد سأل كده علي quora و دي كانت بعض من الاجابات عشان منساش والاقي حاجة اعملها وانا زعلانه😌  Scott Danzig, Software Engineer at Lockheed Martin Written Feb 13, 2014 Originally Answered: If you are sad, what do you do to cheer yourself up? SLEEP  Quite honestly, the most underrated cure for the gloomies is a good night's sleep.  Often, a lack of sleep has a lot to do with WHY you're sad.  Now, it's not going to work for everyone, but it's powerful.  My experience is this: There was one day where all I wanted to do was sit on the couch.  I was tired, and upset at a lot of things.  I just didn't care.  I knew it was unlike me to be this way.  I'm nearly always the one that's always happy.  But that day, I did not care about anything.  I couldn't be motivated to do anything.  I just wanted to sit there and be left alone.  That was my one very small window into what clinical depression was all about.  I was very worried about how long this feeling would go on.  I finally brought myself to do one thing, and one thing only.  Go to bed. I woke up the next morning able to smile.  It was all gone, and I had slept so well.  I had the energy to do whatever I wanted.  I still remember what went through my head, but it simply no longer affected me.  What a difference a good night's sleep makes! Now, I'm not going to pretend this is some sort of cure for clinical depression.  While maybe I briefly experienced something similar, they're affected by a chemical imbalance in the brain that keeps them from recovering.  They usually need medical help for that.  But for everyone else, don't underestimate how important sleep can be on your general day to day mindset.  Get enough sleep, and try not to dwell on anything too much until you've had a chance to "sleep on it".  Promise yourself that after you wake up, you can feel however you want, but give your body a chance to help you first... to dull the pain, and make the world seem just a bit better. Oh, and looking at pictures of my cat Luna helps too :) If you’re interested in seeing more of Luna’s appearances on Quora, check out my blog, Luna's Scrapbook!  Max Sim Li Chien, Anthropology Enthusiast, Puzzle Lover, Aesthetique Nitpicker Written Feb 12, 2014 Originally Answered: If you are sad, what do you do to cheer yourself up? Make good art. Neil Gaiman Addresses the University of the Arts Class of 2012 "Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it's all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn't matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art. Make it on the good days too." And so one day when I was feeling down, I made this wallpaper to boost my morale:  Nikitasha Giriyan, Getting stronger by each passing day.. Written Apr 29, 2016 Originally Answered: What you do when you are sad? Distraction is the best way to take your mind off the sadness. Indulge yourself in something that you absolutely love doing,unhappy thoughts would immediately disappear behind the dark curtains of your mind. The following are some  ways that could help,as they have never failed to heal me . i.e. By, Reading a good book.Listening to happy music.Exercising/Jogging/dancing/Yoga.Shopping.Penning down thoughts.Doodling/Painting.Singing at the top of your voice.Meditating. Cheers! :)  Sourabh Shubham, Self proclaimed expert when Sadness is concerned Written Feb 6 Originally Answered: What do you when you are sad? Answer to this question depends mostly on the situation, but in most of the cases, I try to get myself involved in some other task to forget about the situation which made me sad in the first place. But if the situation is too dark to forget, it becomes almost necessary to analyze it. Once I was sad because I was not able to score good in an exam. Later, I realized that feeling sad about it won’t help. I took it as a motivation to work hard in other exams. Then there was a time when I broke my arm while playing football. I felt pain. I was sad because I knew that I will lose 1 month precious time without using my arm. Pain and sorrow, both were complementary, but in the end they vanished. But there are some situations in which you don’t have any control. It is natural to feel bad about such situations. Death of a loved one, discovery of a chronic disease,accidents, etc. are not in our hand. One simply cannot overcome such situations easily. I may be too inexperienced to speak anything about such situations, but whatever I have experienced yet in my life, I believe that TIME will heal absolutely anything. The way we look at a situation will define the healing factor. Be strong, put a brave smile and soon you will see darkness fading away.   Ayush Jain, Energy Geek Written Jun 23, 2014 Originally Answered: What could I do when I am sad? Here are sme things u can do..   Do something good for someone else, even though you may not want to. Do a favour, help them find something, give them an item which will help them in some way. Start the flow of positive energy.  Eat the best chocolate you can get your hands on. In bed. Or in the bath.  Turn up music you really love. Play it so loudly that it soaks in through your skin. Dance in your pyjamas. Feel the pain lift.  Have a romance in your head.  Volunteer.  Buy a remote control for your camera & dip your toes into the pool of narcissism.  Call a friend & ask them if they want to have a slumber party.  Throw yourself head-first into a creative project. Something that you’re excited about but which feels a little too big for you. You’ll be so consumed by it that it will fuel you for ages.  Do the splits. Or at least try. (Be gentle though!)  Sing. Loudly. Badly. Off-key. Whatever you like. It works. The last time I was on my way somewhere really nerve-wracking, I was in a cab. The radio was playing & I was so anxious that the only way I could distract myself was by singing along. Loudly. The driver probably thought I was a total nut but I didn’t care & it did the trick!  Cover your entire body in cocoa butter & fall asleep.  Drink 2 litres of fizzy drink (pop, soda, you know) & stay up until sunrise.  Write a list of things that you appreciate right now, in the present moment. Focus on each of them & let the love inside you well up. Even when things appear to be going really, really badly, there are always things to be happy about. (That’s one of the reasons why we do Things I Love Thursday — to help bring your attention back to the positive.)  Indulge in your “guilty pleasures”, whatever they are. (Old episodes of America’s Next Top Model, ginger ale, chocolate cake, romantic comedies, etc.)  Send a text message to one of the most interesting people you know — maybe someone you don’t know that well, just to say hello.  Order delivery food, just to bask in the glory of the fact that if you pay people, they will come to your door. With food. Warm, good food. What an age we live in, huh?  Look through old photos. With a friend if possible. If it’s an old friend, you can reminisce (“Oh my god, do you remember when we did that?!”), & if it’s a new friend, you can tell grand stories (“Well, let me tell you about this guy…”).  Listen to old Motown hits. Come up with dance moves. Wear something sparkly & work it out. (DJ Z-Trip’s Motown Breakdown is an excellent time, too.)  Write a gruellingly personal entry for your blog dissecting every aspect of the situation which has upset you so much. Post it, don’t post it, whatever, just get it out of your system.  Plan a holiday.  Write a ridiculous online dating profile & marvel at the people who come out of the woodwork. (“Oh, a threesome with you & your wife in New Jersey? Sign me up!”)  Spend an hour in your variety store of choice, set yourself a budget ($20?) & buy some junk. Lip treatments, candy, maybe an exfoliating scrub… Then go home & play with your new purchases. There’s a reason it’s called retail therapy, you know (though of course, it doesn’t last).  Wear a fake moustache all day.  Think up nicknames for all your friends, then send them each postcards to alert them.  Think back on the last really good sex you had. Think about it for an hour. Then do something else.  Go out for a milkshake.  Appreciate the dinosaur bones at your favourite museum.  Grab a friend, dress up like tourists & go & do all the really schlocky things on offer in your city. Take LOTS of photos, & be sure to flash the peace sign in 70% of them.  Stick little crystals on something you use every day. (Wallet, light-switch, key-ring, boots?)  Buy a new pair of sunglasses or non-prescription frames. It’s a super-easy (& often relatively cheap) way to evolve your look. Plus sunglasses make for excellent on-the-fly disguises.  Go to a yoga class. Surrender & breathe deep.  Put on your favourite pair of high heels & walk up & down your bedroom/hallway doing your best Miss J impersonation. Have a friend or neighbour who is willing to humour you offer critique. “Girl, you walk like a busted-down freight-train.”  Write multiple lists of everything you want. Material possessions, relationships, work, lifestyle, everything. Pin them up by your door so you see them all the time.  Go through Urban Dictionary & find some fun/ridiculous new words to add to your vocabulary.  Make yourself the biggest ice-cream sundae you’ve ever seen. Decorate it with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream, sprinkles, nonpareils, whatever you like. Take a photo. Give it a name (“Jane’s Orgasmatron Cardiac Arrest Sundae”). Devour. Maybe without using your hands. Take a photo of that too.  Get your eyebrows shaped.  Spend an hour in a department store sniffing perfume samples. When you find something you like, spray it on a card & drop it in your purse.  Try break-dancing.  Watch videos of flamboyant, successful people like Elton John or Michael Jackson & marvel.  Eat animal crackers.  Drink through a straw all day. If you get your hands on a straw which matches your outfit, so much the better.  Plan a party with a theme that makes you feel really, really happy.  Write a letter to yourself in the future. Then hide it. Maybe in the pocket of a coat you never, ever wear.  Leave the house wearing just fabulous lingerie underneath a coat. With heels. (Note: if you are a man you may get accused of being a flasher if you do this. The world is cruel sometimes.)  Pull a Kid CuDi & announce your retirement from the world of something. Like cooking, or vocal communication. Announce your unretirement whenever you feel like it.  Buy a harmonica & annoy the hell out of everyone while you learn how to play it.  Go wig shopping.  Choose a festival (SXSW? Burning Man? Coachella? Wave-Gotik-Treffen?) to go to, invite some friends, & start making plans.  Add diamantes to your manicure.  Hula hoop.  Buy some really good art for your walls. Posters, prints, original artwork or other. If you’re feeling impoverished, go to the library, check out some art books, then take huge, great quality photocopies at a copy shop.  Listen to Never Better by P.O.S. from start to finish & revel in what a great album it really is.  Load up your ipod & go for a walk through your favourite park.  Visit a cool toy store & make your friend a surprise package.  Reach out to the people who inspire you but who don’t know you exist.  Write the birthdays of your personal heroes in your planner & work out a way to honour them on that day.  Pie.  Colour your hair. (You can always dye it back.)  Notice where you hold tension in your body, & let it go.  Visit some kind of religious institution & observe a service.  Bake heart- or bunny-shaped cookies. Give them away.  Be graceful.  Be graceless.  Make a video diary.  Answer questions with questions.  Try on a pair of really, really expensive shoes & act like you’ll be back tomorrow, but you’re just going to go home & think about it. (Bonus points: take a photo of you in them. Often you will need to be stealthy about this but it’s worth doing.)  Record yourself trying to recite the alphabet while vigorously brushing your teeth.  Flirt with entirely inappropriate people.  Sing into your friend’s answering machine. (If you’re in the USA & use Slydial, it will take you straight to their voicemail.)  Pour pancakes in the shape of your initials. Eat them while watching aerobics on television.  Make friends with your neighbours.  Think about how great it would be to name a shaggy dog “Toupee”.  Go to an audition just for the experience.  Tell someone cute, “You’re cute”.  Sit in a sauna with a stack of fashion magazines & sweat it out.  Find a secret place with a great view. Like a tree, or a rooftop, or a hill.  Go & see a musical (or just rent one).  Be optimistic.  Buy ridiculous slippers.  Make a list of the things you want to do to celebrate the upcoming season.  Lie down in the sunshine.  Pretend to be a dancer in a music video as you perform mundane tasks. Jiggle your way from the bathroom to the kitchen, shake it while you wait for your toast to pop, booty bump while you pick an outfit.  Go to an aquarium & take photos of the jellyfish.  Watch movies you used to love as a child.  Book a karaoke room with friends & sing your heart out.  Make a list of practical, actionable ways you can improve your situation.  Start keeping a dream journal & write down their supposed meanings, too.  See if you can develop an appreciation for a band or a style of music you’ve never liked before.  Write a play.  Go to vintage stores looking for fabulous old typewriters.  Write the stuff you like about your body onyour body with a marker.  Change your ring-tone to the sound of one of your friends laughing hysterically.  Watch videos of Robin Williams or Eddie Murphy.  Listen to Divine Harvest by The Mae Shi.Don’t be worried, everything will turn out fine. Don’t be worried, friend just put your hand in mine.  Take a nap with your head at the other end of the bed.  Walk around a garden centre & buy a colourful plant. Give it a name.  Go somewhere that people walk their dogs & make friends with some fluffy creatures.  Hug your friends.  Tell someone everything.  Believe that everything is always getting better.  Fareeha Shams, Like A dandelion up through the pavement, I persist. Updated Aug 15, 2016 Originally Answered: What should I do when I feel sad? Here on quora, I give very selective replies to the A2As I receive because I don't want to mess up anybody's life. Every thing generally right can specifically go real wrong. I try put myself in the shoes of the person asking me the question. Your question is one of the very 'specific' types. I don’t know you and so I cannot judge what exactly will take you out of the gloom. Anyways I will try to help you with what I do when I get sad because,  "One is very sad if one feels an urge to write about it." I'm telling you what I do when I feel sad. 1- If there is some reason behind my sadness, I go to some place alone and try to feel the emotion completely. I get one good cry. I don't shy away from the situation instead I let it flow. Once you have cried your heart out, you can think clearer. As  2-  I write. I have been writing about my hurts when the only one I had were hurt ankles. I have a journal so I write and express everything. I don't fake it up in my journal. It knows all the darkness and all the truth about me. If you think keeping such a journal is not so private and you have some sneaky people around. One can always have an online journal. It is personal. Nobody reads your private stuff if you set up a good privacy settings and strong password. Here is a link to one of a kind of online journals : online journal & private diary 3-  I try to get the hell out. In fresh air. Any place. Not crowded and green will serve the purpose. Nature is a healer in its own way. So I will suggest you to use your bicycle and go to the nearest park. Sit alone for a while. Silent and just breathe. You will feel better. 4-  I talk to my friends about my issues quite less,not that I don’t trust them, it is just that I don’t wanna be a nag. But friends are one blessing. Talk to them.Even if you cannot share things or rest, you can always go out with them or have a sleepover. Such activities do help in taking your mind off of certain issues. 5- I read quotes at good reads. About hope, happiness, optimism. The words of the great and learned do magic to me. I dont know if you are an avid reader. But do read quotes on these topics, It gives you a new reason to look forward. Below is the link. Popular Quotes 6-  Sing, Dance or play with your pet. All this reduces stress levels. Here is a video to explain this more. sing dance for depression 7-  Draw. Art is a great form of therapy. If you are good at drawing make something of your own. Creativity is happiness. If you suck at drawing color and look at good paintings. like that of blooming flowers, mountains rivers. It gives such pleasure. 8-  Eat chocolates or any other food that makes you happy. Give yourself a treat every once in a while. 9-  Meditate. Not only when sad but meditate very often. It will not only make you feel better but also is good fof general well being. Just know that being sad sometimes is a part of being human but staying sad for quite long is not fine. If your condition is not improving. I had suggest you seek medical help.

[tveckling]

a l l t h e a s k s

You’re too much omggggg. Lucky you that I’m just not feeling like doing anything today, because otherwise I’d have ignored this ask :P Actual answers under cut because.... there are... many of them... and some are long.

1. Tell us about your WIP!I’m gonna take my favorite original WIP, because I can.One of the galaxies’ best assassins accepts a new job which proves to be way different than she had expected. Her partner moves between exasperated and amused. I imagine this story will be around 50 pages total, so it’s not a big thing. For now my goal is just to actually finish an original project pffft. (Lesbian main couple, pansexual man is second main chara)

2. Where is your favorite place to write?I have two favorite places. One is in my bedroom, where I can just do anything I please. The other is outside when it’s warm on some nice grassy spot, where I can just plug in my earphones in my ears and enjoy everything. I am so waiting for it to get warm enough for thaaaaaaaat!

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?Favorite: Coming up with ideas and characters and dialogue and sentences and everything. And seeing people’s reactions afterwards huhuhuLeast favorite: Writing the damn thing pffft. But tbh, the thing I have the most problem with re writing is descriptions, because I am so bad at it.

4. Do you have any writing habits/rituals?Not really, no. Does having specific music on count? If not, then nope.

5. Top five formative books?Godddddd. Uuuuh. Gosh. Five books I can think of, not in matter of favorite/most formative/w/e:1. Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman2. Magic’s Pawn by Mercedes Lackey (#1 of The Last Herald Mage trilogy)3. The Snow Queen’s Shadow by Jim C. Hines (#4 of the Princess series)4. Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire (#1 of the October Daye series)5. The Empire of Darknessby Christian Jacq (#1 of The Queen of Freedom trilogy).......... yeah, so I mostly read series, w/e.....

6. Favorite character you’ve written?For fanfiction I of course love Mercutio the most. For original works hmm.. shit, that’s tough question. Either Ashe from my relic story or Saraph or Thana from my assassins story. I honestly can’t decide.

8. Do you have any writing buddies or critique partners?Well, I have friends who read what I write and tries their best to give feedback? But that’s it.

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?... this is an awful question that I can’t answer, because there’s too many of both. I honestly can’t choose.

10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book withI actually tried co-writing a book once upon a time, so I can say that I really don’t want to do it again. I just have this issue with ‘no you’re not doing it exactly how I want ittttt’ and well. No.

11. What are you planning to work on next?*laughs hollowly* I have so many thingsssss....

12. Which story of yours do you like best? why?My two fic WIPs Strange Bedfellows and Wild Salt Air are two of my favorites. They both have tropes I adore, plenty of angst, and developing relationships - and it’s like the two stories where I am actually writing developing relationships from start to finish. Other than them I really really like the dtw prompt fic 249. Off with the head and A scratch, because I really really love whump without comfort? :D give me all the angst huhuhu

14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?)It’s actually something I’m trying out. I mostly have some sort of plot in my head for every story I write, but for each longer story I have so far different ways of writing it. For Strange Bedfellows I have a document planning out each chapter and the major events in each. For Wild Salt Air I have nothing, just the vague idea in my head. For this other unwritten fic I have a doc with each chapter fully detailed, just waiting to be written and filled out. For yet another fic I have basically done a mini fic with everything that happens, and it only has to be properly written. I always do the research whenever I get to it. Haven’t made a playlist for any fic or story so far, and have absolutely no interest in a pinterest board or anything like it.

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?I become super clingy and have to be calmed down by friends. And this unfortunately happens a lot.... sorry ;A;

16. Cover love/dream covers?Sounds good I guess? Idk...

17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?I really really REALLY love writing emotions. Strong emotions of every kind, except maybe happiness. Happy/positive emotions aren’t as funny hehe~ And angst. Let me write all the angst, so I can bathe in all my readers’ tears.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone readUh a book I like that someone else has written? Idk dude, I don’t have one of those? A book/story that I have come up with? Godddddd, there are so many... and there is a reason that I will not tell anyone about them *definite stop*

20. Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?1. Using names are fine. More than fine, even. Use one or two epithets per person at absolute max. Names, just like ‘said’ are basically invisible for readers, even if you as a writer feel your eyes twitching over how often you use names. It’s just you, I promise. Use. Names. 2. Write as much as you can, even if what you write sucks. Know how to make sure your writing stops sucking? By writing more. The more you write, the better you get. Simple as that. If need be you can always rewrite those sucky stories later if the ideas are good *looks at several old-as-balls stories that seriously needs rewriting* 3. Sometimes it actually is okay to Tell instead of Showing. Mostly it’s better to Show instead of Tell, but sometimes the other way is perfectly good too or even better. Ignore those who say you must never ever use it.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?Emotions, again. I feel I am quite skilled at writing a character’s emotions and thoughts. My dialogue and humor has also approved in the last couple years, I feel.

22. Tell us about the books on your “to write” listNo way. There are just... so many...

23. Most anticipated upcoming books?Uh, don’t really know any?

25. What’s your worldbuilding process like?I like to start with the characters, and then I start building a world that fits them. I really like doing those world building worksheet thingies.

26. What’s the most research you’ve ever put into a book?Oh god... I think the longest I have spent on a story so far is like 12-14 hours combined. And I still haven’t actually written that story *headdesk*

27. Every writer's least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?For original stories I have always just had a desire for a specific scene, then I come up with the characters involved in that scene, then I come up with the stories those characters exist in. I love, love, love writing prompts, though. It’s pretty common for me to use a prompt in the first step aforementioned, then as I develop the characters and the world the inhabit I tend to sort of forget the original prompt. So it all works out well enough I think.

28. How do you stay focused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?God, the only way for me to keep focused on one particular work is by having other people be interested in it. Otherwise I will completely lose my motivation to write it and start with other things instead. My mind never stops coming up with stories, after all.

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works? I strongly prefer staying away from anything that might influence my writing while I am writing it. This is the biggest reason why I only read friends’ fics nowadays.....

31. Top five favorite books in your genre?Those five favorite books from question 5 counts for this too, I guess.

32. On average how much do you write in a day? do you have trouble staying focused/getting the word count in?It varies so so so much. One time I wrote 6,000 words in a day. Another day I struggled writing 50. When I have prompts to write fics for I write around 1,000 words per day I guess?

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like?Copy-pasting the text into a program with a proofreading software, then after reading it through I’ll poke a friend with better grasp of grammar to go through it, basically.

34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?Idk dude, don’t really have any I think.

35. Post the last sentence you wroteThese, too, went unanswered, with only the occasionally shushing. Pffft, so thrilling isn’t it.

36. Post a snippetFrom the assassins story:“You're here with a job you want us to take." Thana’s voice was matter of fact, as though she already knew the answer. Her interruption was enough to bring Saraph's attention back to her. There was a tilt to her lips that told Saraph he wasn't the only one annoyed by the unknown man. "If you are here to try to offer us a job, just after we finished our last one, then you know us." Saraph had dropped all traces of warmth from his voice, and he threw another quick glance at Thana. "If you know us that well then you know that there is a system to contact us with your offer; there is no part in that system that gives permission to interrupt us completely unannounced. That is an action that would most likely end in someone's death." His eyes spoke loudly about whose death he was referring to, and his absolute stillness was somehow far more threatening than when he had been moving around.The woman on the suited man's left side glared darkly at Saraph, but her partner bared his teeth with a growl and grabbed the gun at his hip. Before he had managed to get it into the air Thana turned sharp eyes on him; a moment later the gun fell to the ground, the man's hand falling with it. The man's shout made every person in the restaurant determinedly look away; they didn't know what was going on, but they were all sure it didn't have anything to do with them."If any of you makes a threatening move against me or my companion again I will not spare you," Thana said, slowly shifting her gaze to the now red-faced woman who was grinding her teeth.

37. Do you ever write long handed or do you prefer to type everything?My hand tends to hurt when I write, so I suuuuuuper prefer typing on something, whether computer or tablet or whatever.

38. How do you nail voice in your books?That’s something I wonder about too *cries*

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire?Not really, no. I tend to get too sucked up into the stories. I am also not really that good at analyzing stories/characters... unless I try to write fanfiction with them, that is.

40. Do you look up to any of your writer buddies?Yes, I definitely do.

41. Are there any books you feel have shaped you as a writer?Again, the The Sandman comic series written by Neil Gaiman. They have had an incredible influence on me.

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied?I am never satisfied pffft

43. How do you deal with rejection?I kinda slink down deeper into my depression for a couple days and just watch shit or do other brainless things until I feel better.

44. Why (and when) did you decide to become a writer?This is differently worded question 24. So, copying that answer: I was the type of small child who was completely obsessed with stories, long before I could actually read. Then when I learned to read I, uh, advanced pretty quickly let’sputitlikethat apparently a 9-year old reading Very Mature books with graphic descriptions of killing and gory situations isn’t that appreciated by teachers. Especially not when this 9yo happily tells her friends all about these gory details at lunch….. oops? So uh idk. It’s always been a part of me? I’ve always been reading and coming up with stories, and then I started writing, and just. Idk dude. Forever, I guess.

45. First or third person?Third, although first can be pretty nice to write too.

46. Past or present tense?Slight preference for past tense, but just slight.

47. Single or dual/multi POV?Single. I am pretty sure I sometimes fail with it, however, ugh...

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back?Flesh out later, because it hurts to cut out parts of my story. It’s like cutting out parts of my own body, you knooooow

50. Do you share your rough drafts or do you wait until everything is all polished?I happily share everything. I need validation and encouragement to continue writing, after all.

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books?I talk too much sometimes, I’m afraid pfffft. I want to share everything. Except in some cases where I like to have some things be spoilers, so I can better enjoy their reactions.

52. Who do you write for?I’d love to say ‘myself’ but it’s really for others who enjoy the same things as myself. If there wasn’t any others I’d just keep it all in my head, after all.

53. What is the first line of your WIP?The assassins story again: All around the planet huge sandstorms raged, but within the walls of New Vien the citizens went about their business without a worry of the outside world.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written?After much indecisiveness we have:First line - from Heart Masochist: They were young once, all of them.And because I thought the question was about last lines too - from A Scratch: When their uncle's men finally found them Mercutio had stopped shaking, but Valentine couldn't stop crying.

55. How do you manage your time/make time for writing? (do you set aside time to write every day or do you only write when you have a lot of free time?)I basically write whenever I feel like it, whether I actually have time for it or not pfffft.

[accio-ambition]

lighting up the path

a/n: Happy belated Valentine’s Day, Emily (@swan-road), from your really bad and really late CSSV. (Me. I’m the really bad CSSV. I’m sorry.) You asked for a fake dating AU and I tried my best. This can sort of stand on it’s own but, hopefully, I can add a second part in the near future. You know, when life calms down. It was such a pleasure talking to you and getting to know you even more. Hope this brightens your day!

I have never been to a planetarium, nor do I know how they work. But I have been to the Natural History Museum in New York, so I know they do have a planetarium and Neil deGrasse Tyson is the dude in charge there. That’s the extent of my knowledge.

He’s known her for far longer than he can recall – uni orientation seems so far in the past – when he realizes he’s failed her as a friend. Growing up with Liam and the ridiculous amount of clear night folklore and stories he told, Killian honestly doesn’t see how such an oversight is possible.

And yet, it is.

She’s never seen the stars.

Emma Swan has never seen the stars.

“What do you mean, never?”

She shrugs, shifting herself on the mattress to better look at him. “The places I was always placed in were in cities or the suburbs where it was too light all the time,” Emma explains.

It still hasn’t sunk in with him. “You’ve never seen the stars?” he asks again, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Broken record much?” she chuckles. “What’s the big deal?”

And when Killian takes a minute to think about it – what is the big deal about his love for stars? – it all comes back to having such good memories with his brother. The only person to completely love him, raise him, and tell him the stories of those that watch over them from the heavens.

From the tales she’s told, Emma never had anyone like Liam to so much as comfort her from nightmares.

“Swan, stars are whole new worlds,” he says, poking her in the shoulder for emphasis. “The skies open up and smile down upon you like…”

Emma grins at him and distracts him. Like that, he thinks. Just like that.

He shakes his head to bring him back on track. “You need to see the stars.”

Groaning, Emma rolls off the bed and moves to put her shoes on. “And how do you propose we go about that, huh?” she asks challengingly, raising a brow while she pulls on her shoe. “Neither of us have cars or money or time to drive anywhere to see them.”

“Those sound like the perfect reasons to follow the stars, love,” he tells her. “We’re young and stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” she quips.

He feels a silly endearing smile grow across his lips. “One day. One day soon, Swan.”

Her other shoe halfway on her foot, Emma glances toward him. “Is that a promise, Jones?” she asks him quietly.

Killian nods.

The first of many, I hope.

Though it might not seem it at first, it’s one of the most important promises he’s ever kept.

It takes a couple years – four and a half, to be precise – but his hard work pays off. Since Liam’s enrollment in the navy, Killian had wanted to follow in his big brother’s footsteps and take to the seas. But the stars – they had so much more to learn than he ever thought possible. And with their stories, he found himself falling into the past more often than not, so he picked up a few classes over the years. By the time he and Emma make it to graduation – together, as they’ve always been – he knows enough about history to write his own Hamilton.

(He doesn’t. Historical musicals are too in, he tells himself. But one day, maybe.)

Emma immediately gets an internship with the NYPD that leads to her promotion as an investigator once she’s finished the correct training, nearly in record time. Her hours are horrible and she gets beaten up more than Killian would ever wish for her, but she loves it, if her constant smile is any indication.

He’s managed to nab a part time gig at Panera to have some source of income and while he’s searching for a real job, Killian’s crashing in Liam’s old place rent free. She’s got a room with four other girls she met on Craigslist not too far away and, when they can, they grab pizza or Netflix the shit out of Making a Murderer.

Killian’s dreading getting ready for his evening shift when he finds the job opening of his dreams. An opening at the Hayden Planetarium. It’s a bit of a stretch for someone fresh out of uni, but he technically meets all of the job requirements and, at this rate, what does he have to lose?

He sends Emma a text, knowing full well she’s working, along the lines of lol, applied for a job at the Natural hist museum bc why not.

A few hours later, she responds with, HA dinners on me if you get it.

So he applies, hits the send button and walks out his brother’s apartment door to hopefully one of his last shifts at Panera.

(Should he get the planetarium job, he will miss the free fresh bread.)

It’s been close to a month since he nearly impulsively applied to the planetarium when one Regina Mills calls him. He’s walking to Panera, longing for the days when he’ll wake up excited to go to his job, when his phone rings.

I’ve got an interview, he texts her.

Swan must be in the bathroom or something because she immediately responds, Where?

Hayden.

Fuckin yes, Jones. That makes him laugh hard than he should as he’s waiting for a cross light to illuminate. Do you want me to come over and you put on a fashion show for me?

He doesn’t deign her a response. She shows up to his house with a six-pack later that night anyway.

Maybe it’s just his insane sense of optimism, but Killian knows before he truly knows that he’s been hired. He’s got a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach the day he gets the call, eating at the local Chinese restaurant with Emma across the tiny table from him. His phone lights up in the dark eatery and Killian feels his heart stop.

“Answer it,” Emma says around a mouthful of lo mein. “I’m just going to be eating my noodles.”

He’s barely said hello when his new advisor formally offers him the job. It’s a blessing that he’s rendered speechless because he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise – she’s rattling off all this information and all he really understands is that Regina Mills needs an answer by the end of the week. He agrees to her terms even though he already knows his answer and says goodbye before the idea really begins to sink in.

Pressing the end call button, Killian slowly lets the ambient light of the restaurant consume him, still in the most honest form of shock.

“You got it, didn’t you?” Emma asks.

Killian smiles wide. “How could you tell?”

She tilts her head to the side, sending him an equally as endearing grin. “I knew you would,” she tells him confidently. Then, pointing at him with her chopsticks, she adds, “Plus, you have a stupid smile on your face.”

Scoffing, he retorts, “My smile is nothing less than dashing, Swan. You of all people should know that.”

(He detects a hint of a blush on her cheeks even through the low light and that makes him beam.)

“Shut up,” she quips. “When do you have to decide by?”

“The end of the week,” he responds.

She sighs and reluctantly sets down her chopsticks. “Well, congrats, Jones. Now I’ve got to go to the ATM.” Grabbing her purse, her mumbled “Don’t eat my noodles” can hardly be heard above Killian’s laughter.

Killian calls Ms. Mills back the next morning to formerly accept the position of assistant director of the Hayden Planetarium, one of the youngest ever in the position if his new boss is to be believed. She seems harsh – had seemed particularly intense when she sat down to interview him – but she exhibits a softer side when, as their conversation comes to a close, she invites him to an office potluck at the end of what will be his second week of work.

“It’s a monthly occurrence that we are dedicating to you this time,” she explains, her voice still sharp and relentless despite the casualness of the discussion.

“I am honored, Ms. Mills.”

“I expect your RSVP on Monday morning when you come into the museum. Eight o’clock sharp.”

“Aye, ma’am. Thank you again.”

Even from across the city, he can hear her annoyance toward him. “Stop thanking me, Mr. Jones,” she growls. “You’ve done the work to get the position, you don’t need to kiss my ass anymore.”

Thank goodness he’s already seated on the couch in his shitty apartment because, boy, was he unprepared for language like that from the respected Regina Mills. “Yes, Ms. Mills. Have a lovely weekend.”

And with that, he hangs up, still in disbelief. He’s got an excellent job to start in a field that he loves and a supervisor who apparently won’t take bullshit.

Sounds a lot Liam, funnily enough.

He chuckles at the thought while pulling up Emma’s contact information on his phone.

Come visit me on Tuesday when you get off.

She responds rather quickly by her standards. I don’t get off till 5.

Then come at 5.

Jones, that’ll be your second day of work.

She’s got a fair point. Though the few coworkers he’d met on his interview seemed polite, he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they would tattle on the new guy. And Ms. Mills has a stick up her ass for sure, so despite his qualifications, he’d probably find his ass fired if she finds an unauthorized person in the planetarium.

Still, he sends, Please, Swan. Because he needs to keep his promise now that he has access to the stars. Try something new? It’s called trust. It’s the new fad these days.

He can practically hear her scoff and see her eye roll. You’re an ass, she texts back. Fine. But if you get fired, you can’t blame me.

Never would.

He’s nervous all weekend about starting this new job, hardly eats a full meal and spends an ungodly amount of time on Sunday afternoon contemplating what to wear so as to impress but not to give off the air that he’s too good for this place. Because he’s not: this place is too good for him. He feels like an intruder. For god’s sake, Neil deGrasse Tyson is his boss.

Killian shows up ten minutes earlier than Regina told him to on Monday morning, too excited to wait another minute. The security guard lets him in, handing him his credentials as he passes through the metal detector. He flawlessly finds his way to the little hole in the wall that Regina said would be his office, and settles in with a goofy smile on his face.

He’s going to have to get used to this. He has no intention of moving jobs any time soon.

By the time the museum and planetarium close on that Monday, Killian’s swapped with research to do and already in progress projects to jump in on and he’s never felt so giddy in his life.

 His phone rings as he emerges from the subway station and Emma’s face smushed against a piece of glass pops up on his screen. With a grin, he picks up.

“Hi honey,” she greets him jokingly. “How was your first day of work?

“Lovely, thank you for asking.”

“Did you make any new friends?” she asks.

“Not quite yet, but all in due time, Swan.” He crosses the sidewalk and heads to his apartment building. “Remember, tomorrow when you get off. I’ll show you the stars.”

“They better be out of this world, Jones,” Emma says with a giggle.

“I’ll let that pun pass, just this once, Swan,” he retorts.

“Thank you, kind sir.” He hears her inhale and sigh. “Alright, I’ve got to go back to work. I just wanted to see how it went.”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow in person,” he tells her. “How about that?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then, Jones.”

“Be safe, Swan.”

“Always am.” And then she hangs up on her own, leaving Killian with a satisfied, if not tired feeling sinking into his bones.

Tuesday morning, he only shows up five minutes early and quickly gets to work in his little office. He’s hoping to get all his tasks done and have a bit of a chance to play with the astrolabe before Emma swings by. He knows enough – surprisingly enough, he can more or less operate one thanks to schooling and YouTube tutorials – but she’s never seen the stars. He doesn’t want his own incompetence to ruin her first gaze.

Somehow, he manages to wrap up all his work by quarter after four, a full half hour before Emma texts him that she’s on her way earlier than expected. Killian hasn’t a clue how visits work here, so he tells her to come through the back way, the faulty emergency exit door where Keith and Loren go out to smoke, not too far from his cubicle.

He knows Emma’s arrived when he hears the door begin to shake vigorously. Killian hurries to let her in because he knows Swan isn’t averse to kicking down the door. Hopefully not to one of New York’s most beloved and oldest buildings, but honestly, he wouldn’t put it past her.

Her banging gets louder and louder as he approaches, until he shoves it open and Emma’s slightly stunned face greets him.

“Hi,” she whispers, sneaking in the door.

With a big smile, Killian takes her hand and closes the door softly. “Hello, love.”

“Am I in trouble or something?” she asks unexpectedly.

Brows furrowed, he says, “No, why would you think that?”

She shrugs. “You’re sneaking me in the back and we’re whispering.”

“I’m whispering because you were whispering,” he answers with a chuckle. “C’mon, there’s a lot to see and I don’t know how much time we’ve got.”

As he gently tugs Emma along the hallways, she inquires, “What are we doing?”

Killian refrains from answering until they stand on the precipice of the planetarium itself. He turns to her, carefully walking backwards down the gradient aisle, pulling her along with him.

“Five years ago, you told me you’d never seen the stars,” he reminds her, her slight chuckles egging him on. “And I promised you that, one day, I’d change that.”

“Killian, what are you doing?” she asks again, and still he doesn’t answer. He’s brought her down to the middle of the room, right next to the globe projector. With a silent plea to stay where she is, he runs back up the aisle and presses a few buttons on the motherboard.

The room goes dark.

And the stars light up.

Emma’s still looking at him, her head cocked to the side as her tongue peeks out from between her lips. She’s trying to hide her smile to no avail.

Walking once more toward her, Killian points to the ceiling. “Look up, Swan,” he announces. “See the stars.”

She shakes her head until he’s in front of her, then takes his hand in hers. And then she looks up.

Her mouth drops.

“Oh wow,” she murmurs. “There’s so many.”

Killian nods, taking in the image of Emma taking in the night skies as they should always be, in his humble opinion. He watches her eyes flit around the entirety of the room, the projected stars reflecting bright against the green of her iris.

Beautiful, he thinks. And he’s not sure which one his conscience is describing, the stars or the woman before him.

“Those ones are in a straight line,” she observes absently. Quickly, Emma glances back down to earth before pointing at the collection of three stars she’s talking about.

“That’s Orion’s belt,” Killian explains. “They’re sometimes called the three kings or the three sisters.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it goes back to the Middle East, when they first started recognizing and naming constellations,” he says. “Even though the three stars are three of the brightest in the winter time, they don’t appear in the sky until early January, around the feast of the Epiphany, where the three kings brought gifts to baby Jesus. In ancient times, they were often used to mark time.”

Emma hums, then looks at him again. “And this Orion fella,” she says. “Does he only wear a belt?”

Unable to help himself, Killian laughs heartily. His Emma would think of that in that particular manner. “In Greek mythology, Orion was a hunter who was honored by Zeus at his death and put into the stars to guide wanderers.”

“Huh,” she harrumphs. “He could’ve done a better job when I was a kid.”

Her statement is a bit of a mood killer – which Emma is entitled to whenever she wants, in his book – but the stars have given him so much, and he wants nothing but the same for her. So he quickly locates another constellation and begins to tell the story behind it.

“Do you see that star there?” he asks her, his finger pointing in a different direction. “The bright one that looks a little too white?” He feels more than sees her nod, feels the tendrils of her hair brush against the hair on his jawbone. “That’s called Deneb. It’s the brightest star in the Cygnus constellation during the summer and fall.”

“A swan?”

“Aye, a swan.” Killian gulps at what he’s going to say next. He wants to tell her that, from the moment he met her, he associated the constellation with her. The strength and the ferocity of the animal itself and the warrior-attitude of the mythological characters for which the collection of stars is named are all reflected within Emma’s spirit and story.

He truly intends on recounting that to her because she needs to know, when the stars disappears and the lights stutter on.

“Mr. Jones, the museum is closed now.” It’s the foreboding voice of his supervisor, the sternness in her voice causing his shoulders to hunch and his hackles to rise.

He briefly glances at Emma’s wide eyes before sighing and saying, “I understand, Ms.-”

“Miss.” She’s addressing Emma specifically, her strides casually approaching them with her arms crossed over her chest. “Mr. Jones will be back here tomorrow during business hours. You may come back and discuss the stars with him then.”

Killian lies quickly. Emma’s taken enough shit in her life: he won’t let her take more on account of his stupidity. “Ms. Mills, this is my lovely girlfriend, Emma Swan,” he says, gesturing between the two women. “I apologize for not introducing you earlier.”

That stops Regina short, her hair bobbing with the dip of her head. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

As she tends to do, Emma hops on his train of thought. “I just got off work and we were going to go get something to eat,” she lies easily, charming smile on her lips. Gently nudging his body aside, she sticks her hand out to his supervisor. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure.” Her distaste registers with both him and Swan – he can tell by the way she steps back, nearly nipping his toes. “Mr. Jones failed to inform me of any relationship.”

Standing next to Emma, Killian carefully takes her hand in his. “I fail to see how that is any of your business, Ms. Mills,” he growls.

Regina smirks, making his heartbeat speed up in concern. “You only RSVP’d for one,” she tells him. “I should think you’d want to bring your girlfriend to our office potluck next week.”

His jaw drops like an anchor. Of course he had said only he would come to the potluck because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He nearly mumbles an expletive, completely giving away their plot when, once again, Emma swoops in to save the day.

(As much as he knows he saves her, his Swan does her fair share of saving his sorry ass too.)

“I had to work, but I’ve managed to switch shifts,” she says happily. “Special for this shindig.”

“Really?” he asks in surprise.

Emma gives a small shrug. “I was going to surprise you over pizza,” she murmurs with a shy smile. “Surprise?”

He reasons that it’s part of the act they’re portraying – that he can’t help but lean over and press his lips to her temple. “A lovely surprise, Swan,” he mumbles against her forehead.

Still smirking, Regina spreads her arms wide. “What a nice change in plans,” she exclaims. “I look forward to speaking with you again at the potluck, Ms. Swan. Have a good evening.”

And with Emma’s “Likewise” farewell, his supervisor struts back up the planetarium’s aisle and leaves them alone.

Killian barely realizes his hand is still in Emma’s, and that he’s still lingering closer than he’s ever really been before, their interconnecting hands caught between his chest and her side.

He sighs, pulling away ever so slightly. “Thank you for covering for me.”

“Thanks for giving me an out,” Emma chuckles. While wincing, she asks, “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

Killian shrugs. “Maybe, but that’s my cross to bear.” Finally, he drops her hand and wipes his own on the side of his pants. He’s nervous, which makes his palms sweat, and that’s not attractive or comfortable for anyone involved. Bashfully, he follows the steps of his supervisor back to the motherboard. “You don’t have to come to the party thing, you know.”

“Yes I do.” The vehemence in Emma’s voice causes him to turn around. She’s got her hands on her hips and a fierce fire in her eyes. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold and I’m not going to let you down,” she spits out, throwing her hand out toward him.

Taking a step back to her, Killian raises an eyebrow. “You know that means you’ll have to spend an entire evening talking with my colleagues about space rocks and the Hope Diamond and the average life span of a species of cat that’s been dead for three hundred years?”

She nods without hesitation, so Killian takes another step toward her, cocking his head to the side. “You know that means you’ll have to spend the entire night pretending you like me,” he reminds her. “Holding hands, arms around the waist, coming and leaving together? Things couples might do?”

Emma giggles as if what he’s just said isn’t a problem, couldn’t possibly ruin the relationship and friendship they both rely heavily on. She saunters up to him and takes his hand once more.

“You’ve shown me the stars, Killian,” she tells him earnestly. “The least I can do is pretend I like you a little more than I do.”

He’s not convinced with her words, especially not with the way she bites her bottom lip after she says it. He knows Emma quite well and though she always says she can tell when he’s lying, he’s not quite sure that she’s just as open a book to him.

Because she’s lying. And given the context of her last words and the situation they’ve found themselves in, he’s afraid to hope what she’s lying about.

“We can sneak back in here during the party,” Killian suggests, leaning closer to her. “Really get a feel for the Milky Way.”

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. “Is that a promise, Jones?” Emma asks quietly.

“Yes,” he whispers. “One of many more to come.”

[hotcoffeeandbreakfast]

Two cold snaps in New Orleans and I am already disappointed I’m not getting a full Fall. Does anyone else associate the overwhelming influence of weather to a person’s mood? I wonder only because I spent most of the summer melting into a puddle inside of the koi pond house. The outdoors looked enticing, until I stepped out onto the deck to let Layla out — even she has been less than thrilled to spend time in the sunshine. On top of blistering light, heat so pooling you could drown in douses you. A day’s gorgeousness is only alluring on the surface; we are kept inwards, indoors during summer days to avoid exhaustion. And I want to feel alive.

The recent trip Neil and I took to Colorado changed my mind about the way I am rooted. I have always strongly believed that I am devoutly Louisiana in a subtly obnoxious way, unwilling to give up the peculiar looks one receives when you say, “I’m from Louisiana.” Y’all know, we’re special. If you’ve ever crossed Henderson Swamp with me, you’ve been asked, “Is there anything more gorgeous than the swamp?” because I truly think it’s a masterpiece of wonder. Such weighted darkness lives in the swamp, so the contrast of the crisp, chilling Rockies pierces me, steadily present.; as if my soul reached the correct temperature. I still feel the cool air, lingering at the back of my throat. I’ve been telling myself for two weeks now that I’m not dealing with the normal sinus infection you get when you’ve been in a foreign climate, that instead it is delicious leftover mountain air refusing to diffuse in my lungs. This thought has made me sad, haunted my dreams; I don’t think I have ever fallen so hard for a place, I can’t get the feel out of my mind.

  Louisiana friends that migrated northwest for longer than the winter: I get it. Colorado is a magical, sun-kissed, heaven-on-earth  state and I am currently trying to figure when/how I will be able to have a small piece of it. It’s all I can think of!

When I was a kid, my parents brought me to Alaska, Maine, and all over Canada. Did I love those trips? Absolutely. Seeing a glacier as a twelve year old is definitely the dopest thing anyone in your class did all summer. Unless they got to lick the glacier, that would be different. Do I remember instantly falling in love with these places? No. Winding up and down the side of the Rocky Mountains, which seemed to be continuously growing larger as we drove…well, that is something to fall in love with, to be humbled by. — AND FEAR!!! I screamed for at least an hour going up, louder after I saw the runaway truck ramps. –Neil will tell you that the second we took off on our six hour road trip from Denver to Telluride  all I could talk about was how immediately overwhelmed with inspiration I was. I sat in vocalized awe at the size of these massive, ever stretching mountains. The popping of my ears didn’t even bother me, my eyes were too busy to be bothered.

My previous encounters with Colorado-type terrain consisted of appreciating from afar, and I’m lucky enough to say that I’ve seen some beautiful places. I purposefully got lost in the Muir Woods once, a stunt my parents did not appreciate. The tour we were on wasn’t spending long enough in each area, which meant I was missing the opportunity to take an obscene amount of crappy photos (I was an avid disposable camera photographer). As soon as I heard we were loading up, I ran back to my favorite place for just one more picture, a little further than I remembered. “THE BUS IS LEAVING WITHOUT US TIFFANYJO,” my dad hollered at me as a ranger walked toward me. “IT’S A STUMP!” I could hear his frustration, I could see the ranger’s slight amusement, but was busy snapping pictures, winding as fast as I could. I needed to document this tree, dammit! This particular topiary had died, it’s stump indicating long life among beautiful friends; it devastated me. Though I honestly do not remember noticing in the Redwoods how the fresh air affected my breath and my brain, I remember feeling surrounded by friends in that moment too. I had several beautiful, refreshing, and daringly connective moments with the Pacific Ocean the handful of times we went out to whale watch while visiting British Colombia, that was life changing, yes. But never, in my adult travel experience, have I felt so nearly unhesitatingly changed.

Even on the 13,500 ft., 4 star, wildly vertical Wasatch Trail, I noticed a difference in the way I was fighting for my breath, the way I was thinking about it and physically doing it. Was I cursing Neil out in my head for encouraging a group of mostly new hikers on such an advanced trail? Yes. We endured forty-four switchbacks on shaky legs and empty stomachs. Had we taken that exact same hike under Louisiana climate conditions…..well lets just say it would have taken a considerably longer and we would have all been naked from heat and humidity by the end of it. Colorado was kinder to us. We stopped for breaks every thirty minutes or so,  all willing to kept going. We would be lined up on the trail, looking forward and back at each other after someone asked, “How much further?” No-one wanted to say, “I’ve seen enough, lets turn around,” because IT WAS SO FCKING PRETTY, honestly bordering ostentatious beauty.

Thirteen miles and six hours later, we were all exhausted but so so happy. We each milled about the mountainside house, quietly reflecting on the day as we prepared dinner. What we ate, I can’t remember; I was distracted with the reel. I thought of the gold confetti that fell on us most of the way before we encountered our first patches of snow; of Layla eager to meet other dogs on Bear Creek Trail and at the rock garden; of specifically the rock garden and the reminder that so many others have walked this trail before us, for no other reason than to be close to nature, to bathe in the freedom she gives.

  I spent our entire first day hiking feeling as though floating up and down mountains in someone else’s dream, only able to muster enough focus to keep from tripping constantly. Ever little leaf called to me, the snow glimmered. I wanted to touch everything. Us Louisiana kids packed for temperatures around 56*-64* and we were definitely met with winter temps, so for my rickety knees to work properly, I had to keep moving. We crossed a ramshackle mining bridge to get to the “top of the waterfall” and felt every inch of our lives possibly being risked; Neil would randomly say, “THE WATERFALL! It’s worth it,” when he could feel us all dying. I didn’t know there was a possibility that we might actually slip and fall to our death (though what a place to be buried). That night ended up being the most magical sleep of my life.

  Cornet Creek Falls was absolutely the most fun hike because it was so involved (at least for me) and I was ready for it. The day of rest we took in between Wasatch and Cornet was crucial for me, and for Layla, to be able to enjoy the rest of the trip. Elevation punched me in the face in the best way!  When we got to Cornet’s water fall, I went crazy wild woman and just started climbing up the rocks as fast as I could. I felt wild, totally inspired by the wild that surrounded me. I still can’t find words supportive enough to label the sensation of climbing feeling totally natural, of sliding on your bare palms and feet to just keep from seriously scuffing something up. I was a tomboy growing up, a climber…but I never dreamed at nearly 30 I’d want to climb EVERY fourteener before forty. Red dirt was flinging everywhere, I think Layla’s paws will always have a little red in them now. After playing for about an hour at the fall, we made our descent back down the trail, taking time to swing on trees and roam a bit. Neil and Zach wanted to climb a little higher than I did in an area just off the trail, but we stopped where there wasn’t much room to really rest, so I had to wedge myself in to the safest spot I could manage, and wait. It was a misty meditation, regardless of how nervous I was to be potentially, literally flying solo. Heavier rocks eventually started tumbling down and I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO ROLL MY EYES. I had to press as far back as possible (without losing my footing and my hold on Layla) and hope that the boys weren’t about to get tangled in the trees bending around me. The real challenge came on this day when the rain arrived; we were thankful it wasn’t heavy rain but it was plenty cold which oddly motivated us to move faster on the way down! I immediately took a nap when we got home, and woke up to real, fresh, fluffy, falling snow. SNOW THAT STICKS! My mind was blown. 234567890th time in less than a week — was I dead and just reeling? No, this was tangible.

We finished up our trip with what seemed like a leisurely walk to Bridal Veils Falls, a truly breath taking experience at a pace that felt like a lazy river in summer.

  Layla often led the way on our hikes, excited by each step and smell and challenge by her favorite element. It was amusing to see the retriever that normally wants to lay around all afternoon practically sprint up these trails. She pushed herself yet seemed content no matter how long we adventured.  We encountered quite a few animals, though none as majestic as the giant elk that showed up in the DRIVE WAY after an afternoon house nap. Her spirit is not the same in Louisiana, and I absolutely feel her on it. Sometimes when she’s asleep and looks like she’s dreaming, I wonder if she’s dreaming of the next mountain or set of squirrels.

ya know…just talking a walk. 

The continuous, perpetual summer of the south removes the presence of change, therefore, we remain the same. I will never not be completely fascinated from this experience forward with the way my surroundings moved me. Louisiana motivates you to either get where you’re going in a hurry, as to avoid a sweaty, sticky mess, or to embrace the heat and move slowly, never feeling completely dry. To be brief, this year has been a whirlwind of movement, and while I’ve had quiet moments, I haven’t spent much time mentally celebrating the beauty that’s unfolding. My spirit set its wild self loose among the Rockies and will be, from here on out, totally unsatisfied with stones unturned.

The spirit can plant roots anywhere (this we know) and while I have blushed and  inwardly rolled my eyes at those that have called me “free spirited,” I think the definition is clearer now, though I still feel the term is often too blanketed. “Wanderlust” is okay, but I don’t immediately picture myself twirling in a field or ascending a mountain. — I think of Paul Rudd’s epic pep-talk in one of the funniest movies Jennifer Aniston ever pulled off. — I’m not bohemian enough to claim anything other than righteously curious and uncontrollably fascinated by the natural world around me. My continuous thought throughout the trip, a moment that pinches me just the way the cold Telluride morning would, is with me as I recount the moments now: I can climb a little longer.

And so can you.

Be affected by the world around you. Allow yourself celebration, healing, experience. YOU ARE WORTH YOUR DREAMS.

I want to take this hammock all over the world with you Neil!!! Let’s see everything together. ❤

Here’s a song from an album I heard in my head while hiking through the Rockies:: Lit Me Up

the patient recounts her dream Two cold snaps in New Orleans and I am already disappointed I'm not getting a full Fall.

[commonsensenerd]

Y’all I am about to be so real in this piece because I watched Seasons 1 and 2 of The Tudors!  If I had no angry issues before watching the two seasons this show gave me additional issues that I did not need. Caused me to roll my neck, cut my eyes at the characters and finished 4 bottles of wine. Plus, I had to hide the baseball bat that I was saving for #NetflixSaveDracula movement. Because I was ready to go to town on this show!

Let me first give an applause for the well-done performances in causing me to want to town on y’all ass. Well-done and outstanding job to the writers!  After watching the first 2 seasons I did not think that I could have watched this showed while it was being aired on ShowTime while I was pursuing my bachelor.  I would have failed some of my classes trying to figure out what the hell happen? The first 2 season left me with a few questions and a whole lot of drama that would make me kill King Henry VIII (played by my friend Johnathan Rhys Meyers).

For example, what happen to first baby boy that was produced, yes, I said produced, by your heirness what is his name’s wife in the first season? (Do not correct me on this because I seriously did not catch his name when the King Henry and the mistress said it in bed.) It was made clear to what happen to the baby boy that Queen Katherine carried but what happen with this one?

What happen to the long-haired musician genius from the church and his wife? We know that his wife went somewhat crazy after her sister died. I was surprised to see this dude Mark Sweeten pop into the picture. Who knew Anne’s brother went that way!! (The shade of it all!)

How in the hell did King Henry’s sister, Princess Margaret Tudor (played by Gabrielle Anwar) got sick? Wait, Charles why were you fucking around with the sister anyway? He must have had tiny balls at that time but grew bigger balls when he went up against Sir Thomas Boleyn punk ass! Real talk: Charles (Henry Cavill’s character) needed his ass kick for fucking around on his wife while she was sick! He should have taken up golfing! And his second young wife should have taught him how to play stick really fast when he cheated on her with the niece of France!! Niece of France my ass; I would have jousted his ass across England!

Cardinal Thomas Wolsey (played by Sam Neil) gave me justification as to why I don’t attended church today. (Crocked motherfuckers!!)  Though you have got to give it to Wolsey, he was smart enough in how he got things done for the King. For a Cardinal, it was fuck everybody else it is about the King. Including the Pope. WOW! His ending was sad but not too much.

Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk (played by Henry Czerny) – they did that during that time. Keep count of how many Dukes occupied a villa\castle like Norfolk?  Really? Where in the hell did his ass disappeared to in the first season?  I mean he was smart enough to leave before that shit hit the fan, so hey.

I can really appreciate a man like Sir Thomas More (played by Jeremy Northam) because he stood his ground about the sanctuary of marriage.  I don’t think would want that on my conscience either but then again, I did cheat on husband, so oh well. I was happy to see that King Henry regretted that whole outcome that took place between him and Sir More.  I was waiting for Sir More’s ghost to pick that cross that he gave to the King as a Christmas present, and beat his ass with.

With Sir Thomas Boleyn (played by Nick Dunning), y’all let his punk ass off easy!! Look, look here! He did more dirt than his daughter and then played the high and mighty dummy for real. If my father told me to let my husband have his mistresses, I would have filed for diplomatic immunity with France. ASAP!! Because the action that would have followed ladies and gentlemen. . . (singing the song: Murder she wrote! La la la. Murder she wrote!)

Let’s talk about Anne’s ass (played by Natalie Dormer) for a minute!! Y’all, I did so much cussing in Season 2, I was ready to throw my laptop across the room! I have not done this much cussing since I read Shakespeare’ King Richard III. The original crocked motherfucker right there! How in the hell can you kill your older brother and turn around fuck his widow at your brother’s funeral? Really? In Shakespeare’s world, are we sure that Anne was not a niece of Richard III? Because I think that is how she got her fucking skills, she did not learn them from Daddy Boleyn and Uncle Howard!! I cannot see how that was possible?! Take for example innocent Elizabeth. Mommy and daddy have dark hair.  Daddy’s skin is darker and Elizabeth’s skin is much fairer than her mother’s. And I am giving the side-eye to Jamie Thomas King’s character.  I am just saying that Anne had some skilled and you draw your own conclusion on that one.

Queen Katherine of Aragon (Maria Doyle Kennedy), I was really rooting for she because she been had on castle block longer and she was entitled to everything.  I love the fact that the Queen stood her ground about who she was and what she wasn’t going to be.  I did cry when she passed away! And I was ready to whoop the King’s ass for not letting Mary see her mother in 4 years. No let me take that back, I need to see sir Thomas Boleyn punk ass for telling Mary that she was forbidden to see her mother and I was wondering did the King really allowed this? That probably goes to that some intelligence that I am about to mention.  

But see, if I was Queen Katherine, I would had taken Anne to the side when she showed her ass the first time, let Anne’s ass know that my army verse your NO army little girl.  Put Anne in her place from the beginning. King Henry was smart to keep Queen Katerina in England because he knew if Queen Kat went back to Spain his ass would have been grass. I was amazed that despite all the pussy he was getting, he still had some intelligence to understand that fact. (Some intelligence.)  But at the same time, again if I was Queen Katherine, I would had gone the fuck upside King Henry’s head with one of the many heavy crosses that they had sitting around in the castle.  And how in the hell did King Henry get sprung by Anne when his revolving door for forever in session? (In my opinion, that is the only thing that Anne did right! She tamed his ass!)

And if I was Queen Katherine, I would have had me some sistas in my corner, I don’t mean her sisters from mom and dad (please pay attention to the spelling!) We would have hot rodded a few carts and ran over the King’s count. We would have slacked around and body slammed a few of the King’s guards and if King Henry did not know what S & M was, we would have educated his ass real fast!

So here is where we are standing at the end of Season 2 of The Tudors: Anne got her well deserve karma and there is a saying that applies here for her: how you got him is how you will lose him. Another saying: you will rise quick but you will fall-down faster. Her brother got his karma for the way he treated his wife. Talk about the closet for real and R. Kelly would have told him to stay there! Poor Elizabeth but hooray for Mary because besides her mother, Mary was still respected by the English people, majority the King’s court, all the kings from other countries like France with the marriage offer to Mary and not Elizabeth, and from her own father. (Season 2, I think episode 7 or 8, King Henry is leaving after visiting Elizabeth, he sees Mary on the balcony and he bows to Mary.)

And King Henry VIII!! From watching all the sex from seasons 1 and 2 that I decided to go on a fucking hiatus! (JRM, this is a compliment. . .you know you need your ass whooped for such a kick-ass performance! Did I not express to you that I do not do emotions? We had this conversation before. WTF?? No that is not right. What the banana & cream? Nope that is not right either. Fuck it. We had this conversation!!!)

I do apologize for cussing so much in this piece but look at it this way: I did not have to wait until that time of the month to let my angry out!  Hell! Let’s see what happens in seasons 3 and 4.

Until next time!