#they’ve been throwing parties at 2 am the past few nights and its so loud u can hear it outside the building

[vvyrmwood]

i need everyone on this websites help to manifest 100 billion fart smells in my upstairs neighbor’s apartment

[sign-from-god-complex]

Self-Control

Summary: The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and though Virgil has come all this way he’s suddenly struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other—so much can change in 15 years; so much has changed in 15 years.

Though, maybe things haven’t changed quite as much as Virgil thinks.

(AKA, a past-punk moxiety AU)

Pairing: Moxiety!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smoking, homophobia and nondescript injury. Vague allusions to past abuse (or at least mentions of terrible parental figures). Brief discussion of a parental figure having died.

AO3 Link

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It isn’t at all the place Virgil imagined for him. The flower pots all sit in a row on the steps, red ivy climbing up the fence like spider webs and a garden hose curled up on a perfectly manicured front lawn. Everything about it is picturesque—almost to the point of insanity—and as a butterfly floats by and lands delicately on a ladder leaning onto the fence from the backyard, Virgil wonders what in the world could have changed Patton so drastically to have led to this.

There’s an image, in his head, of teenage rebellion—of 2 am milkshakes and stolen bicycles, of broken glass and laughter, so much laughter, as they took advantage of what time they had left to live. It doesn’t fit in with this pastel blue sky in this pastel blue neighbourhood full of pastel blue people but he knew that it wouldn’t. He knew things would be different.

Though, that doesn’t make it all that much easier to comprehend.

Vaguely, Virgil hears the sound of excited squeals coming from the yard and he ducks his head over the fence just a bit, catching sight of a young girl flying off of a trampoline at a hundred miles an hour—hair a mess and grin bright.

The kid must be Patton’s—it’s unmistakable, that dark skin and reckless look, like she’s ready to take the world on at any moment—and Virgil can’t help but remember the nights the two of them spent drinking and talking and vowing to never tie themselves down to anyone or anything. 

He supposes no one really does know what they want when they’re young.

It takes Virgil a while to gather up the courage to knock—he’s all too aware of his leather jacket and patches, his dyed hair and piercings. He couldn’t feel more out of place in this suburban neighbourhood and he hadn’t thought that around Patton he could ever feel out of place.

In the end, though, the choice is taken out of his hands. The young girl throws open the door, clearly looking to haul ass across the street to the park—the kind of place he and Pat would have smoked, once upon a time—but is stopped short as she notices Virgil standing in her way. There’s a moment where he’s afraid she’s going to scream or cry or something else he would have no clue how to deal with but instead, she just grins cheekily.

“Dad!” she yells, barely turning her head to face the soft white interior of the house, “There’s a man here for you!”

The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and for a moment Virgil is so afraid that he’s gotten the wrong house or that Patton won’t want to see him and though he’s come all this way he’s struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other; so much can change in 15 years.

“Riley, what do you mean? What ma-”

And then, there he is.

His face is void of any of the makeup he used to wear, his hair faded from turquoise to its natural black and left curly in a way he wouldn’t have been caught dead with once. And, over the top of a graphic t-shirt displaying some characters Virgil doesn’t recognise and unripped light-wash jeans, Patton had thrown a familiar blue flannel.

Virgil remembers that flannel, worn under heavy coats to help fight the evening windchill, tied around Patton’s waist as they scaled fences just to see if they could and left in a pile on the floor in his room as they finally escaped back to comfort and warmth. Honestly, he’s just surprised it still fits.

Patton does nothing but stare at him for a moment, his lips parted in shock and his eyes big and wide and god, looking at him now is like falling in love all over again.

“Virge?” he breathes, a melody of disbelief in his voice. Virgil can’t exactly blame him—it isn’t as if he’s someone Patton was expecting to see.

Virgil rubs over the fabric of his jacket, a nervous tick he’d had even back then. “Hey, uh… surprise?”

And in an instant, has Patton pitched forward right into his arms. Virgil catches him—of course, he catches him, he’ll always catch him—and Patton laughs, displaying some level of joy Virgil hadn’t known he’d needed to hear until now. He can feel Patton breathing against his neck as they hold each other and, distantly, the sound of light footsteps echoes away and up the stairs.

They pull apart, eventually, the separation like trying to peel a sticker off of a concrete wall—the easiest kind of graffiti to enact while still being tricky to remove. The distance Patton puts between them seems almost reluctant and Virgil wishes he had the courage to tell him to stay.

“What are you doing here?” Patton asks. It’s soft, like the white fuzzy carpet of his new home and Virgil realises suddenly he’d been so caught up in him that he’d forgotten that this him wasn’t the same.

Patton had always been soft but not soft like this. He’d been soft in redirected conversation and distractions, in Virgil’s favourite TV show on in the background and stolen chocolate bars in his pocket, guiding hands mimicking steady breathing. This Patton seems soft around the edges—worn down, almost—and Virgil feels those 15 years as more of a lifetime.

He doesn’t answer the question—truthfully because he’s not sure how, not sure where to start with the mess of events and near-misses and regrets that finally brought him here to Patton’s doorstep—and instead replies with one of his own. 

“My mom died. Did you know that?” It’s a stupid thing to ask, they hadn’t spoken to each other in 15 years, there was no way he could have known. Virgil asks it all the same though. “I have her money now. Didn’t write me out of the will even after everything we went through. Guess she didn’t want how much she hated me and my “lifestyle” to come out even after she’d kicked it.”

Patton just looks at him. There’s something sad in his eyes, maybe, something regretful or sympathetic, something holding years worth of apologies and love confessions in not so many words that every night they'd pretended they hadn’t said.

Maybe not, he isn’t sure. He’s never been very good with stuff like that. 

“You owe me a party,” Virgil continues impulsively. Patton grins and shakes his head and the urge to kiss him is so strong for a moment Virgil can’t breathe. “You promised me when she was dead and I didn’t have to worry about her anymore we’d have a party. With cheerio sausages and expensive liquor and-”

“Sparkling juice and bad karaoke,” Patton interrupts, “I remember.”

Nobody speaks. Patton doesn’t invite him in and Virgil doesn’t ask for fear of being turned away. 

He knows there’s an element of worship in the way he looks at Patton. It’s worship like the way farmers pray for rain in a drought, worship like how sailors are drawn to the rough turn of the sea and worship like teens relishing in the night when they’re bored and alone and angry, yearning for freedom that only comes in years they feel they don’t have left.

But now, dark eyes gazing at him and breath catching in his throat, Virgil thinks maybe he isn’t the only one who feels it.

“I have a kid now, you know?” Patton asks and Virgil knows instantly that question isn’t about the party but everything that comes after it—all of the hundreds of possibilities that stem from this decision that neither of them can quite voice out loud, “Single parent. I made a lot of bad choices in those 15 years—gave myself away to a few people who didn’t deserve it, maybe—but she’s… helped. I want to be better for her.”

Virgil nods. It’s a little hard to reconcile teenage Patton with this one but he tries anyway. He has to; he owes him that much.

(In truth, he owes him so, so much more than that but right now this is all he feels he can give.)

“Yeah, uh, Riley, right? Seems like a sweet kid, if not a bit mischievous.” Virgil smirks slightly, somewhere between teasing and nostalgic. “Kind of like you were.” 

At that, Patton grins and he laughs and it feels right—feels like early morning rainfall and crackling log fires, like the burning in your lungs as you run and the way your eyes slowly drift shut against your will when you’re up too late, like every ending and beginning in just a moment. 

He shakes his head again, almost affectionately chastising and there’s a stuttering of Virgil’s hand as he goes to reach out, to brush a strand of hair away from Patton’s face but stops himself halfway through.

Patton doesn’t seem to notice. Virgil once thought Patton never noticed—never saw the longing in his eyes and the flushed red of his cheeks as they sat side-by-side on a park bench in the middle of winter, running from the heat of harsh words and high expectations.

He wonders if maybe that was naive. 

“Well, I’ve gotta make sure to raise her right,” Patton jokes and his smile is amused—fond and familiar like the worn leather of Virgil’s jacket between his fingers, “If she’s not questioning authority and getting me called down to the office at least once a term then I’m doing something wrong.”

With that, there’s a flash—just a moment—of principal visits and angry rants, of cutting class to sit with the other in the silence of the school office and knowing, that outside of the two of them, there was no one else to come. And he thinks of Patton—this Patton, not his Patton—taking up the empty space of that office with kind reassurances and defensive words, protecting and protecting and protecting, fighting for Riley the way he had Virgil.

Parenthood suits Patton more than he’d first thought, perhaps.

“Ah, office visits.” Virgil nods sagely and can’t resist the quirk of his lips as Patton giggles. “A hallmark of a punk child. Next thing you know she’ll be dyeing her hair, running off to the park in the middle of the night to meet up with boys.”

It’s obviously a joke but still, Patton quietens, taking on a more contemplative look. It seems as if he’s remembering something and Virgil needs, all at once, to make sure he’s more to Patton than simply that expression on his face in the midst of just another day.

“Yeah,” Patton finally says, “Yeah, she was thinking purple actually.”

Virgil doesn’t reach up and drag a hand through his own purple hair but it’s a near thing. He hums—soft and low. “Good taste.”

A heavy silence rings in his ears—an echo of all the memories they share and all the memories they don’t, a collision of black and pastel blue on a canvas already painted with teenage angst and first love—and Virgil can't stand the way it feels like it may be too much to overcome. It isn't; he won't let it be.

He takes a step closer and Patton doesn’t move away, just lets Virgil crowd him against the doorframe till their chests are pressed together and each shuddering breath is a joint effort.

“I’d like to get to know her. If you’ll let me,” he murmurs and he’s so close that he can hear Patton’s heartbeat pick up as he slides a hand up to brush at the strands of hair against Virgil’s neck.

The air between them is tense and pulled tight—gazes tracing over freckles and foundation, their skin warm with each point of contact and the rushing of blood in Virgil’s ears drowning out the pounding of his heart. Each second that goes by without comment feels to Virgil like sinking into quicksand, like fingers losing their grip on the edge of a building and threatening to let him fall.

But, before he can draw away, throw up his walls and stumble his way through apologies like they’re nothing more than kids again, Patton tugs him forward and, softly, he brings their lips together.

The kiss is a teenage fantasy come true, the culmination of every moment—under streetlights or under blankets or under nothing more than the cover of night itself—where Virgil longed to reach out and tell Patton that he wanted to kiss him until the world faded away and all that he could focus on was the taste of cherry red lipstick and the joy and love pounding in his chest like a second heartbeat.

It's the comfort in late-night knocking, Patton taking Virgil in and patching him up and holding him as he cries because he has a mother that doesn’t love him and a father that’s always absent and a world that doesn’t care, muttered reassurances a quiet backdrop to his sobs.

It's the warmth in drinking their way through meagre retail paychecks, Patton’s soft touches like fire against his skin and the thread of restraint holding Virgil back from blurting out a love confession worn down to something as thin as a spiderweb and just as delicate.

It's the exhilaration in grocery store runs with no money and bags filled with spray paint cans, their gloved hands clasped tight as they race against the biting evening wind, giving in to the urge to let out a cry of victory that bounces off the empty alley walls.

So, yes, it’s the culmination of years of pining but it’s more than that too. It’s an apology, it’s acceptance and it’s an offer of a future, to stay here with them. 

“I think I’d like that,” Patton gasps as he pulls away and Virgil’s so enamoured even after all these years that he barely knows what to say, “For you to know her, I mean. She’d like you. She’s like you, or at least the way you used to be—always a bit loose with self-control.”

Virgil doesn’t tell Patton that all his self-control had been going towards keeping himself from telling him he loved him. He doesn’t think he’d know how.

Slowly, Virgil blinks and he nods and it’s all he can do to keep himself standing as Patton beams up at him with a smile reminiscent of stars colliding—bright and beautiful enough to take his breath away. And suddenly Virgil feels like maybe he can fit in here, that maybe he can fit in anywhere he needs to if Patton keeps looking at him like that.

He smiles back, smaller than the one he’d received but the way Patton’s eyes light up makes Virgil feel like maybe that doesn’t really matter. “Okay, yeah. I want that; I want to stay.”

“Okay,” Patton parrots and he’s barely holding back giggles, Virgil can tell. It’s okay though because he feels it too—that sense of happiness and disbelief that has almost no other way to present itself—and giving in feels more like an inevitability.

So, laughing and hands joined together, Patton pulls Virgil inside to the soft white of his suburban home. And he closes the door.

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

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @welpweregonnadie @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @harleyquinnamiright @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree @tired-and-probably-crying .

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a list of bottom Louis fic recs where Harry and Louis are already in a relationship. There are a lot of good ones for this list, so this is only part one of the list - part two is here.

Happy reading!

1) Precious Little Diamond (I’ll Give It All To You) | Explicit | 2044 words

Alpha!Harry/omega!Louis PWP written for this textpost: Established relationship H/L with alpha!Harry just popping his knot in omega!louis and it’s his favourite part; just laying down and cuddling as they mate but louis just wriggles around in his lap until he can grab his xbox controller and starts playing video games with Harry still inside him and Harry’s like “??!?????!???!!!???” And louis’ like “oh shush it takes forever” and scores a goal on the game

2) Tie You Up and Make Me Scream | Explicit | 2166 words

AU where Harry teases Louis and it becomes a game until they cant handle it anymore and escape to have tent sex while the rest of the boys are in the other tents.

3) True North | Explicit | 2575 words

Note: This fic is locked and can be read by AO3 users only.

Altered-canon non-au set between November 2012 and January 7th, 2013.

4) What’s Yours Is Mine (What’s Mine Is Ours) | Mature | 2982 words

Prompt: Something about Louis always waiting until the last minute to pack his bag for tour so one time Harry does it for him and then they’re thousands of miles away by the time Louis figures out Harry hasn’t actually packed anything useful. Whether it’s because Harry is just genuinely useless at packing for other people or because he wants Louis to be forced to wear his clothes is up in the air. Also Louis refusing to wear Harry’s clothes out of pure spite until Harry makes it up to him.

5) Double Dog Dare Ya | Explicit | 3411 words

The one where the boys play some truth or dare and Harry has a one track mind.

6) A Touch Of Your Love | Explicit | 3856 words

Harry’s physical training has been intense. He wakes up before the sun to run. He spends long hours in the gym boxing and lifting weights.

Louis usually likes working out with Harry when they’re on tour, and even now he enjoys going on a run or boxing a bit with Harry. But Harry hasn’t seemed to stop moving since he accepted the role in Dunkirk. And it’s not that Louis always needs to be the center of Harry’s attention, but he very much wants to be.

7) It’s Your Soul That I’m Caught In Yet You Don’t Hear Me Call Your Name | Explicit | 4433 words

The one in which Harry goes out for a run in the early morning rain without telling Louis and Louis wakes up alone, cold and needy.

8) Hook’s Intention | Explicit | 5156 words

Harry hadn’t realized what, exactly, being the Captain Hook to Louis’ Peter Pan would entail.

9) But I Want You | Explicit | 5200 words

After their successful night at the VMAs, Harry can't keep his hands off Louis for long.

10) A Gentleman’s Arrangement | Explicit | 5205 words

Harry has been in the countryside, Louis has been trapped in town awaiting the London season, and three months apart is far, far too long.

11) ‘Cause Lately I’ve Been Waking Up Alone | Explicit | 5667 words

“Ow ow ow ow,” Harry continues cursing, hopping back and forth on the balls of his toes and trying uselessly to cradle his dick.  Louis’s eyes fall to the sink, where he can see a torn-open package and what looks like a sheet of instructions.

“Clone-a-Willy?” he reads out loud, not sure he’s reading right.

...or, Harry gives Louis a very special sex toy for an early birthday present, and Louis uses it on Skype when Harry's in LA.

12) Power Inside | Explicit | 5861 words

Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.

Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”

Where is this even going. Harry honestly has no clue.

Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”

Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.

“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”

He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.

13) We’ll Stumble Through Heaven | Explicit | 6504 words

Louis likes to be a good boy for his alpha.

14) You Drive Me Wild (You Know You Do) | Explicit | 6632 words

Their management informs them that they have an interview right before the ARIAs, and it isn't until he's in a suit, seated on a couch between Liam and Zayn, that he gets the idea.

The interviewer, Angus, smiles at them, right before the cameras roll on, and a metaphorical light bulb goes off inside Louis' head. He's perfect. Well, not as perfect as Harry, but enough. He's attractive, attractive enough to drive Harry crazy, and he doesn't even think of the consequences of his actions, just decides right then. It's all Harry's fault anyway. Louis should be allowed to have a little fun.

15) I’m Broken, Do You Hear Me? | Explicit | 6957 words

Louis starts acting weird and distant around Harry, and it takes Harry a little while to put together what's wrong. When he finally does, he's determined to help Louis see just how much he loves every piece of him.

16) Back Where I Belong | Explicit | 7217 words

Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting.

It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back.

Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?”

“He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.

17) Call Me Shallow But I’m Only Getting Deeper | Explicit | 7367 words

The one where Louis is a brat so Harry spanks him with a riding crop.

18) Rated R | Explicit | 7635 words

Louis gifts Harry with a surprise sex tape, and it accidentally makes its way into Harry's family Christmas party. Ridiculousness ensues.

19) Under the Vanilla Sky | Explicit | 8006 words

Who the hell wears a hat like that on a yacht?  That's one of the things Louis thinks when he sees Harry from across the deck of the most expensive, ridiculous boat he's ever been on.  He also thinks he'd like to get closer.  Just to see what's under those aviators.  Just to verify that, yes, in fact, those white swim trunks might be a little see-through when wet.  Just to see if someone could really be that hot in real life.  On a yacht.  In the Caribbean sea just off the coast of St. Barts.  

Here's what really happened on that yacht.

20) Love To Make Him Moan | Explicit | 8106 words

Note: This fic is locked and can be read by AO3 users only.

They fuck like they're sex starved, when they're really, really not.

21) Give It Up To Me | Explicit | 8134 words

"You're going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge," he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

"And?" Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis' arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. "What if I wanted you to?"

22) Love Me in Between the Future and the Past | Explicit | 10991 words

Set during the 2013 VMAs.

Harry's scared of history repeating itself.

23) Read You For Some Kind Of Poem | Mature | 11969 words |  Sequel

He likes to imagine that he’s always aware of Harry’s eyes on him, but the spark that flashes across his body at how often Harry licks his lips while looking at his throat doesn’t feel like something he’s explicitly and consciously acknowledged before, but it feels familiar. Usual. Right.

24) In A World Apart | Explicit | 11973 words

During their off time in LA, Harry is reminded just how much he loves Louis.

25) End Of The World Tonight | Explicit | 12069 words

“You remember when you told me that you wanted to live with me for the rest of your life?” Louis asks. His voice trembles a bit, exposing exactly how much he hates what he’s about to do. How much he wishes that he wasn’t about to do it.

“I remember,” Harry says. His expression is a little lost, like he thinks that they’re about to have a fight and he’s not sure what they’re supposed to be fighting about. Louis closes his eyes because he has to, has to take a second to regain his courage. He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep suffering, can’t keep killing himself trying to hide this. He’s ready. He’s been ready for a long time.

26) Know You Got That Thing (That I Like) | Explicit | 15798 words

In all the ways he thought about their reunion going, watching Louis finger himself open was not on the list.

27) 210 Days | Explicit | 16341 words

Harry is in the army and Louis is back in New York. Together, they get through Harry's six month leave by sending a series of letters back and forth. They've done it before, and they can do it again.

28) Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes | Explicit | 17965 words

Note: This fic is locked and can be read by AO3 users only.

Louis is just 18 and ends up in 2015 for one day at Harry’s request, one day to make sure his spirit is strong and hopeful enough to take him to the X Factor and end him up where he’s supposed to be. Aka, the one where Harry makes sure Louis knows how amazing he is.

29) Can’t Fool Me | Explicit | 30162 words

AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.

30) Drowning In Your Eyes | Explicit | 45140 words

The Pirates of the Caribbean inspired au where Harry is a fierce pirate who holds the heart of a beautiful merman.

31) Such Good Luck | Explicit | 66205 words

Louis smiles at Harry’s words, leaning into his touch. “Tell me again.”

Smiling, Harry takes Louis into his arms. Pressing gentle kisses to his face, Harry murmurs, “In six months’ time, I will have my twenty-fifth birthday.  On that day, my portion of the inheritance will become legally mine. And I plan that very day to announce to my family that I have found love.” Harry chuckles as he runs his lips lightly along Louis’ cheekbone. “That, in fact, I found love when I was twenty-one years old, and that I have loved and been loved every day since.”

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[artificialqueens]

White Houses Chapter 2 (Jalaska)- Dottie

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, it didn’t want to be written. But here it is and I hope you enjoy it!!!! Also a huge thanks to Marble for betaing! You can follow me at my blog here!(And because I forgot the summary in the last chapter here it is)

Summary: Going off to college is hard, Alaska finds this out quickly. Luckily she has her childhood best friend and a few new ones to lean on. As long as she doesn’t fuck it up by falling for one of them.

It is nearing three in the morning,  Alaska has her first class of the semester in a few hours, and she’s nervous. It’s Musical Theater and she seriously thinks that she should have thought it through a little more before signing up for an eight A.M. class.

Alaska stares at her reflection in the mirror of the dingy dorm bathroom. Her blonde hair is up in a messy bun, and the bags under her eyes are considerably prominent, it also doesn’t help that she has been crying. She’s only been at school for a week and she already misses her mom, and Aaron’s already made fun of her for it, but she doesn’t expect anything less from him. He’s her best friend and her biggest supporter, and she knows she would be completely lost without him.

The door busts open, interrupting her pity party, and in walks a blurry eyed boy with frizzy red hair. She freezes, not knowing what to do, and certainly not expecting anyone to be awake at this hour. She had also completely forgotten that the dorms and bathrooms were all coed. The boy grumbles at her in acknowledgement and shuffles past her, heading into one of the stalls. She blinks and debates on whether or not she should leave. She should. She doesn’t want things to be awkward when he comes back out, but at the same time he’s pretty cute. Before she has the time to make that decision, the toilet flushes and the redhead shuffles back out. He catches her eyes and flashes her a tired smile, a really cute smile too, he looks so soft and warm. She forces herself to look away so he won’t catch her staring.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

             She looks back at him and gives him a tight lip smile while nodding her head. It seems to be enough for him because he grumbles an ‘okay, goodnight’ and leaves. She stares after him, and eventually makes the executive decision to go to bed as well.

She sneaks back into her room quietly, not wanting to wake up her roommate, Courtney. She kicks off her slippers and glides into bed. It doesn’t take her too long to fall asleep, but it feels like only two minutes later she’s being woken up by her alarm. When she looks at her phone, she sees that two minutes has actually been a couple of hours. She groans, wanting nothing more than to stay in her bed, but it’s the first day of classes and she’s more excited than she allows herself to believe. She crawls out of bed and drags herself into the shower.

She doesn’t take too long in the shower, but when she steps out, the mirror is fogged over and the air feels thick and damp. She struggles to put her clothes on, they cling to her because of the mix of humidity and dampness of her skin.

“It’s too early for this,” she thinks with a groan. She eventually gets her jeans and t shirt on so she can leave the tiny excuse of a shower stall.

When she gets back to her room Courtney is sitting at her desk, fully dressed, and applying lip gloss. She stops when she sees Alaska and smiles at her brightly.

“Good morning, Alaska!” she greets a little too cheerfully for seven A.M. Alaska flashes a smile back at her, hanging the towel that wasn’t in her hair on the back of their door.

“You have class at eight, right?” Courtney asks, leaning back and checking her face in the tiny light up mirror adorning her desk.

“Yeah, why?”  Alaska responds, taking the towel out of her damp hair.

“Willam and I were going to go grab breakfast or coffee before class, did you want to come with?” Courtney asks, her full attention now on Alaska while the taller girl brushes out her hair.

“Sure, I’m always up for coffee,” Alaska says, and Courtney lets out a small cheer.

“I’ll text Willam and let her know, Aaron can come too if he wants.” Courtney offers, but Alaska rolls her eyes at the suggestion.

“He’s useless before twelve, he didn’t schedule any classes before eleven so he’s probably still sleeping.” Alaska says with a fond smirk, Courtney smiles at the image.

“You two are really cute together, are you sure you aren’t more than friends?” Courtney asks, a teasing tone lacing her voice.

“Yes! Fine, okay! You caught us!” She paused with a heavy sigh, “We’re two star crossed lovers, destined to be together, but fate keeps driving us apart!” Alaska exclaims dramatically, throwing her face into her hands and letting out loud sobs. Courtney giggles at her antics.

“But in all seriousness- no, Aaron’s the closest thing I have to a brother. We dated for a second in middle school, but that was a mistake,” Alaska explains before turning on the blow dryer. Courtney waits until she’s done before she starts asking more questions.

“I thought you had two brothers? And and older sister?” Courtney inquires, resting her elbow on the back of her chair and placing her head in her hand.

“Yeah, but Ryan is so much younger than me, we never had a very close relationship, and Cory and I never really got along. But Brooke is amazing.” Alaska says with a shrug and a small smile.

Courtney nods in understanding, she opens her mouth to say something but her phone buzzes, distracting her. “Willam’s on her way up,” she says. Alaska glances in the mirror, and deems herself ready with only her eyebrows and mascara done. It’s too early for any more effort and the bags under her eyes aren’t too prominent.

A few minutes later there’s a knock on their door and Courtney swings it open to reveal Willam, a tiny blonde with a personality twice her size. Alaska had met her the day she had moved into the dorms, she was helping Courtney put her things away. And by helping, she was lying on Courtney’s bed, flipping through a fashion magazine and throwing in her commentary every couple minutes. She was nice enough and Alaska was just excited to actually move in. Willam took an instant liking to Alaska though, which Courtney said was rare, so she basked in it the week leading up to today.

Courtney greets Willam with a peck on the lips and a large smile. Alaska grins at the pair, a hint of jealousy nagging at her in the the back of her head. She wants that, a Willam to her Courtney, okay maybe not a Willam per say, but someone to be affectionate with that wasn’t Aaron. Someone to hold hands with, make out with, go out on cute dates with, and to hold her and cuddle with her. But it’s hard finding someone to do all that with, especially because she’s transgender. She can’t just go out and find some random guy on the street, men are scary and there have been too many hate crimes towards trans women, for that to be anywhere near safe. Alaska knows the statistics of sexual assaults towards trans women, and she knows how likely it is that it could happen to her if she just went out with anyone.

“You ready to go Lasky?” Courtney asks, bringing Alaska out of her thoughts. She nods, grabbing her keycard and her bag full of binders and notebooks and following them out into the hall. Willam and Courtney talk the entire walk down to the dining area, while Alaska trails closely behind. She isn’t paying close attention to her surroundings, which is probably why she runs straight into someone, knocking all of their things to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Alaska gushes out, turning around to try and help pick everything up. She quickly recognizes the person as the guy from the bathroom last night and blushes deeply.

“Alaska you clutz!” Willam yells with a laugh from where her and Courtney have stopped walking a little ways down the hall. The redhead smiles warmly at Alaska as he bends down to start picking up his stuff. Alaska immediately goes to help him.

“I am a total clutz, and I did not see you I’m so-” she starts rambling,  reaching for random papers before she’s cut off by the redhead.

“Hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it, accidents happen,” He says with a giggle, Alaska’s heart speeds up at the adorable sound, a grin finding its way to her face. “I’m Jerick,” he says as they move to their feet, having picked everything up.

“I’m Alaska,” she says.  She notices that he’s a few inches shorter than her, but he has the cutest smile Alaska has ever seen, and the prettiest brown eyes.

“Alaska quit flirting, and let’s go! You can suck his dick later!” Willam calls out, Alaska blushes again and Jerick’s smile fades.

“I have to go, but it was nice meeting you, and sorry again!” Alaska says, walking backwards towards Willam and Courtney.

“Nice meeting you, as well, Alaska!” Jerick replies, and Alaska smiles and turns around to face a smug looking Willam and an embarrassed looking Courtney. She pushes past Willam and power walks away as fast as she can. Luckily, her legs are longer than the other two’s, so they have to run to catch up with her. Serves them right. Cunts. She has never been so embarrassed in her life.

“Laska, slow down!” Courtney calls out after her. Alaska stops and crossed her arms, pouting.

“I can’t believe you fucking said that,” Alaska says to Willam, “did you see how uncomfortable he looked?” Willam just shrugs.

“He’s probably into it. You’re hot.” Alaska blinks at her, expressionless. “I’d fuck you.” Alaska glances at Courtney who just rolls her eyes fondly.

“I have higher standards.” Alaska responds, Courtney screams out a laugh.

“Oh bitch! Oh bitch!” Willam laughs, they’ve gained the attention from the majority of the students in their vicinity, which isn’t a lot with it being only seven thirty in the morning.

Alaska cracks a smile; they’re obnoxious and loud, but Alaska thinks that they’re going to get along fairly well. At least, she hopes so..

Xx

When she finally gets to the auditorium where her class is held, Alaska is underwhelmed by the amount of people there are. She knows it’s early but she was still expecting more than fifteen students. She finds an empty seat and waits for class to start. She pulls out a notebook, flipping it open to the first page and starts to sketch until class starts. She doesn’t look up when she feels someone sitting next to her, but she nearly jumps out of her skin when they start talking to her.

“What’re you drawing?” She snaps her head up, and of fucking course, it’s Jerick. She glances down at the page,

“Uh, just some dress designs,” she responds, Jerick leans over and inspects the page. Alaska is suddenly extremely self aware, she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, and she doesn’t know if she’s breathing too loudly, did she put on perfume? No, she forgot, fuck. Jerick is smiling down at the page, closely inspecting it.

“It’s really good, Alaska. Are you a Fashion Design Major?” Jerick asks, looking back up at Alaska.

“No, I’m a Theatre Major. What about you?” she asks, she wants to know everything about him, which she knows is crazy because they legit only met in the early hours of this morning. Why is she so attracted to him? He’s very flamboyant, his hair is a frizzy mess, he has acrylic nails, but yet, all of that is endearing.

“I’m Theatre as well,” Jerick says with an infectious smile. Alaska smiles back, unable to stop it from forming. She doesn’t know what to say back, but luckily the professor calls for attention, and starts going over the syllabus so Alaska doesn’t have to respond.

She tries to pay attention to the professor, but with Jerick sitting next to her she’s completely distracted, and it’s frustrating. Alaska doesn’t like to assume anyone’s sexual or gender identity, but she’s fairly certain that he’s gay, so it probably wouldn’t work out anyways, and he would probably never like her like that. Which is fine, she can admire from afar until she’s over it. Which she sincerely hopes happens soon, because she really doesn’t want to deal with this, and they just met, she shouldn’t be this attracted to him this soon. But of course she is, because why wouldn’t she be? He’s exactly her type. Warm brown eyes, a dazzling smile, a nice personality- at least that’s what she’s gathered from their limited interactions. Maybe she’s just crazy.

The class continues in a similar fashion for another half hour, when they finally get through the syllabus. Alaska packs up her stuff, quickly and efficiently. Jerick had already left, saying a quick goodbye to Alaska. She’s disappointed, but she doesn’t expect him to wait for her, because well, they hardly know each other and they aren’t even friends. She sighs, zipping her bag closed and slinging it over her shoulder. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, noticing that it’s only nine, and her next class isn’t for another hour. She sends a quick text of ‘you awake?’ to Aaron before making her way to the coffee stand a floor down. She’s shocked when she gets a quick reply of ‘no’ from him, expecting him to still be asleep. Alaska tells him to meet her for coffee and she already knows he will, even though he responds with another ‘no’.

She only has to wait ten minutes before the messy haired blonde shows up. He glares at her from behind his glasses, there’s still a little bit of eyeliner smudged under his eyes from sleep, and he’s wearing the most ridiculous neon pink, fuzzy slippers that are extremely out of character for him, but Alaska was the one who got them for him so he deals with it.

“Good morning sunshine!” Alaska greets, a smirk gracing her features.

“Fuck off.” He says, brushing past her and going straight up to the barista. He throws his meal card at the poor, dumbfounded girl and says “Coffee. Black. Now.” Alaska rolls her eyes fondly. She apologizes to the barista, whose name tag reads ‘Adore’, before ordering her own drink.

When they get their drinks, they sit at a small table in the corner of the small room, Aaron’s drink is already half finished and a there’s grimace fixed onto his face.  

“What’s with the face?” Alaska asks.

“I hate black coffee.” Aaron says, pouting at the drink as if it could magically change into a sweeter, possibly alcoholic, concoction. “I hate coffee.”

“Then why’d you order it?” Alaska asks, laughing at her dumb ass of a best friend.

“It’s Satan’s ass crack o’clock in the morning, Lasky. And I forgot the alcohol in my dorm.” Aaron continues to pout, and Alaska ignores him, moving the conversation along.

“When’s your first class?” Alaska asks, taking a sip from her coffee.

“Eleven thirty.” He’s still pouting, and Alaska’s still ignoring it.

“What class is it?” She asks.

“Fucking statistics,” he says, somehow pouting even more. “Then I have public speaking, and that’s going to be bullshit.” Aaron continues on in a rant, and Alaska half pays attention to him. She wonders if she should bring up Jerick, or if she should just ignore it. It’s just a silly little crush, it could be absolutely nothing, and it’s way too early to be naming their kids. But she really wants to talk about him, and make out with him. Jerick, not Aarron.

“Alaska,” Aaron says in disbelief, Alaska looks up, blinking slowly. Aaron’s face was one of disapproval and judgement. “I love when you ignore me. Okay, what’s wrong, or who is he?”

“Why do you just assu-” Alaska starts.

“Who is he?” Aaron cuts her off, he knows Alaska better than he knows himself. She only ever spaces out when he’s talking if she’s upset about something, or she can’t stop thinking about someone.

Alaska opens her mouth to protest, but Aaron raises an eyebrow, and Alaska sighs, “his name’s Jerick, and it’s probably nothing.”

“Okay,” He gestures for her to continue, “when did you meet him?”

“Technically, officially, this morning, but we ran into each other in the bathroom last night, or well, I was in there when he came in.” Alaska says, sitting up straighter, Aaron nods. “ And then I literally ran into him this morning and knocked over all of his stuff-”

“Clutz,” Aaron comments with a smirk, Alaska glares at him but continues to tell her story, telling him about Willam’s comments, and how he /still/ sat next to her in class.

“He’s just…really cute. And perfect.” She finishes.

“Alaska, you just met him.” Aaron says incredulously.

“I knooow, but he’s so cute an-”

“Alaska,” Aaron cuts her off, “you’ve known him for less than twelve hours. This is ridiculous, even for you.” Alaska pouts, but Aaron’s having none of it. “I know it’s hard, but ignore it, and befriend him. Get to know him. He’s probably not as perfect as you think.”

“He is.” Alaska tries to defend him and herself.

“What’s his major?” He asks, Alaska brightens up, because she knew this.

“Theatre,” She says with a triumphant smile.

“What’s his last name?” Alaska’s smile falters. Shit. “Favorite color? Favorite book? Does he play video games? Does he have the patience of a saint, to be able to deal with you? Does he even identify as a he?” Alaska opens and closes her mouth a couple of times trying to find something to say to that. Aaron sighs and grabs Alaska’s hand over the table.

“Lasky, you’re my best friend and I want you to be happy, but you have to stop attaching yourself to people you barely know, it’s only going to end up hurting you, and I’m not about to let anyone hurt my best fucking friend, my sister.”  He says, and it’s the most sincere Alaska’s heard him say in a while.

“You’re going to regret calling me your sister if we end up falling madly in love and getting married,” she says, laughing when Aaron’s face falls from sincerity, to annoyed.

“You’re the absolute fucking worst. I’m going to get my fucking vodka so I can deal with you like an adult,” he says, getting up and storming away, leaving Alaska a laughing mess at the table.

Aaron was right though, she realizes when she sobers up. She needs to put her big girl panties on and stop attaching herself to helpless civilians, especially really cute ones. She’s going to get to know Jerick, and they’re going to be friends. If friendship turns into something more, then Alaska won’t complain. For once.