#thinking is hard classes deep fried my brain 20 times

[tom-holland-parker]

Begin Again

Summary: 8 months after you broke up with Peter, you finally agree to meet up with him, but you’re still unsure if he deserves a second chance

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1409

Masterlist

Notes: Wow another fanfic inspired by a Taylor swift song (did you honestly expect something different coming from me). Anyway this is Part 2 to “The Moment I Knew” which you can read here. Also shout out to @hommyy-tommy for asking if there's gonna be a part two because once they asked about it I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Side note: If you’re ever in The West Village in Manhattan I 100% recommend eating at Bus Stop Café, they have THE BEST bacon egg and cheese and don’t even get me started on their orange juice. Plus the people who work there are SUPER NICE. I pretty much spend every Saturday in the summer there and it’s really worth it.

You took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror. You couldn’t help but second guess your outfit as you adjusted your dress. “Maybe it’s too much” You shook your head, “I’ll wear sneakers instead” 

“What’s wrong with the shoes I picked out?” Wanda asked, watching as you moved back and forth from your closet to your mirror. “He hates it when I wear heels”, you shook your head again in frustration as you looked through the piles of sneakers you had, “He knows I’m clumsy so he gets scared I’m going to break my bones if I wear them” 

“Since when do you care about what he thinks?” Nat asked as you put on your black vans. You didn’t really know how to answer that question. It had been 8 months since you even talked to Peter. You ignored him for the rest of the school year and spent the summer vacationing through Europe so you didn’t have to see his face. You both ended up at the same college but lucky enough you had different majors and hardly ever saw each other. When you received that phone call last week you nearly threw your phone out the window. You couldn’t stop repeating that conversation in your head. 

“Don’t hang up” He said as soon as you picked up. You took a deep breath, “What do you want?” 

He sighed in relief, “I know you probably hate me right now but-” he paused trying to find the right words. You paced back and forth in your room trying to relieve the sudden anxiety that had built up inside you. “I wanna see you, I wanna try and explain, maybe make things better between us” 

You remained silent trying to process what he was saying. “Hello?” he asked, disappointment filled his voice. “I’m still here” you whispered, “Fine, next Wednesday, Bus Stop Café, how’s 5?”

“Yeah 5 is great” You could practically hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you then, bye” 

“I don’t know Nat” You sat on your bed, rubbing your temples in hope that it’ll relieve the headache forming in your head, “I just thought if I didn’t see his face, the problem would go away” You felt Wanda rub your back as you pulled you in for a hug, “Sweetie, sometimes you just need to face things head on”

You sighed, “I don’t think I can do this” 

“You got this kid” Nat said as she crouched down in front of you, patting your leg, “On the plus side you can always kick his ass and he won’t stop you”. You chuckled as you checked your phone for the time, 4:20, “I need to be in leave now if I'm going to make it to Manhattan on time”

///

You’d always been the type of person to take everything as a sign, maybe that’s why you became extra nervous when you noticed the rain outside. Maybe it was the universe telling you this was a bad idea. Happy dropped you off earlier than you expected but you didn’t mind, it gave you time to prepare for what you were going to say. “I’ll call you when we’re finished” You waved goodbye as you walked into the warm café. 

“Still using Happy?” You jumped when you heard Peter’s voice coming from the table next to you. You stared at him for a second, the fact that he was early took you by surprise. If you were being honest you expected him to be late. He stood up, pulling out the chair for you as you walked towards him. “If I didn’t he’d be out of a job” You smiled awkwardly as you sat down, “besides getting my own car would require me being able to pass a drivers test”

“Well you always were the bad driver”, Peter smiled as he sat down, his fingers fiddling with the straws, “I ordered your usual. I hope that’s okay”

You nodded your head looking around the room. You weren’t sure why you had chosen here, it was the place you and Peter had your first date. Maybe after talking to him for the first time in a while your brain subconsciously chose the place where you first fell in love with him. Funny enough it was in the same booth.

“So how’s school?” You asked, ignoring the thick tension that was growing between the both of you. “Oh schools great, engineering is kicking my ass but it’s fun, How are design classes?”

You shrugged wondering how he knew what classes you were taking, “They’re good I hate my professor but it is what it is”

“Alright we got one large plate of fries, one bacon egg and cheese with extra ketchup, one grilled cheese with avocado and tomato” the short waiter places the plates on the table, “and two large cups of freshly squeezed orange juice. Let me know if you guys need anything else"

"Thank you" you both said as the waiter walked away. You sipped on your drink as awkward silence filled the room. The fact that you were the only ones at the café didn't help. Maybe you should've chosen another day, at least then you'd have some background noise to distract you.

"So how was your Christmas?" Peter asked as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "It was fun. Finally convinced dad to buy everyone matching pajamas" you chuckled, remembering how annoyed your father was at your constant begging. "And you? Did May force you to watch love actually again?"

He rolled his eyes, "yes and it's still as boring as I remember". You laughed, "I could say the same about star wars"

He gasped sarcastically, "I see you still have terrible taste in movies"

"I'm just saying" you smiled, "all those movies and not one of them are good". He rolled his eyes, "you haven’t even seen all of them"

"That's because I've seen enough bad ones to know there isn't a good one" You laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes. You always loved to annoy him with your, in his words, terrible opinions. 

He smiled reaching across the table to grab your hand, “I missed your laugh”. You pulled away, looking down at your sandwich, not sure how to respond to him. Peter took a deep breath watching as you stuffed your mouth to avoid the conversation, “Look I’m sorry if I could go back and change it all I would”

“But you can’t” Your foot tapped on the ground nervously. He let out a heavy sigh, “I called you because I wanted a chance to explain myself”

“Well-” you sipped your juice, “Explain” 

“I let everything take over my life, The suit, the responsibilities. I was blinded by everything that I forgot the important people in life and I didn’t realize how much I was pushing everyone away until I lost the person who meant the most to me. Those 8 months were hell for me because i didn’t have you” 

“For months I thought you didn’t love me anymore”, You bit your lip, looking down to avoid eye contact. “No it’s not like that” Peter reached for you hand again, “I loved you, I still love you” 

You looked up, watching as his face turned pink with embarrassment. “Peter-” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “I can’t do this”. You stood up quickly, leaving 20 dollars on the table before rushing out the café. 

“y/n wait” Peter shouted chasing after you, “Just let me make it up to you”. You shook your head not bothering to look back at him. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up to you, you cursed yourself for being a slow runner. He grabbed your elbow gently pulling you to face him.

“Just give me a second chance” he said with pleading eyes. You stared at him for a second debating what to do. If you were being honest with yourself, having Peter back in your life was something you really wanted but you just had a hard time admitting it. You let out a deep breath as you rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Don't think because we’re back together that I’m not mad at you” You whispered as you pulled away, “You still have to make it up to me”. 

He smiled giving you another kiss, “I think I can handle that” 

[jessisvibing]

for the obscure asks: ALL OF THEM!

Oh gosh okay

1. Fave way to dress

Glam. Like Steve summers, Sami yaffa, and mark slaughter all had a child

2. If I could change anything about myself

Probably either my stomach or my face but perhaps i would just like a new self esteem

3. What movie/game/etc helps me calm down

Rock n roll high school

4. What does your room smell like?

Depends if I wanna use the hot chocolate candle, the marshmallow whatever it is candle or the one that reminds me of Disney.

5. Do you like to organize?

Oh heck I have to be organized or it bothers me.

6. What kind of music would you listen to if you could only choose one?

If we mean genre then perhaps 2000s Finnish rock. Or maybe 80s glam. But if we’re going for bands Poison and Pretty Boy Floyd never get old.

7. What song is your aesthetic?

MOONCHILD!!!

The song, the video, ALL OF IT!

8. What color do you think goes best with your personality?

Although my favorite color is green I’m usually associated with black or red.

I’ve been told if I was a color I was without a doubt the color black

9. Do you believe in auras?

Perhaps so.

10. What do you wish you hated but actually like?

Apulanta 😂

Well not really but it’s hard to explain them to people. I could probably name a few things but nothing comes to mind off the top of my head.

11. Vague about your crushes.

Well, he’s got the most beautiful eyes and voice and the warmest smile. I think he lives in France with his girlfriend so he’ll never like me but something about him just gives me a warm feeling. He has a message with his music and I just wish I could be like him. Is that too much to be vague?

This ones definitely been through a lot but I feel like I need to try and make a difference in his life. Frankie knows who he is cause I’ve told her this before but ever since I first discovered him I fell in love with him and most people don’t support that I like him but that’s okay. He’s funny to me and his music is comforting to me.

12. Is there someone you have mixed feelings towards?

It’s hard to pinpoint my emotions. Especially when I first meet people. Sometimes I just don’t know how I feel about one of my friends that I dated once. Do I love him or not? I’d like to know.

13. An Au or story I came up with.

I have a lot of crack stories about poison and Jekyll and Hyde I’ve yet to write. All I gotta say is cc’s insults give me life.

14. Do you like makeup?

I liked it better on me when my hair was long now I just don’t vibe with it but concealer has saved my life a few times. It’s just better on guys.

15. Do you prefer space or ocean?

Y’know it may come as a surprise but I’ve always kinda wanted to visit space. I absolutely love the stars and I’m kinda a space geek.

16. If I could pick any planet besides earth, where would I live?

I wanna say Uranus as a joke but on a serious note I think Venus or Mars would be neat.

17. What form of government do you like most?

Monarchy. It’s just easier than this american shit.

18. What animal would I keep as a pet?

Omg omg I always wanted a snow ermine🥰

19. What do you think the purpose of our universe is?

Well I’m a Christian so I could go deep into it but I’ll just leave it at that.

20. Do you believe in god(s)?

Yes if my last answer wasn’t obvious enough.

21. Is there a song you can’t handle listening to even tho I like it.

It was hard enough to get into this song but when I discovered why mark wrote it it’s hard not to cry when I hear it.

22. What ex do you miss most?

Well I wouldn’t quite say I miss any of them. I’m still best friends with my most recent. I feel like I haven’t found a great relationship yet. Sorry val babe.

23. Do you like soft fluffy rough or smooth blankets.

I have a fluffy one hanging on my bed frame haha.

24. What is your fave thing to learn about?

Hmm I love a lot of stuff, as much as finnish fascinates me I absolutely adore mythology.

25. What country’s history do you find most interesting?

I’ve been in too many American history classes to enjoy it anymore. The Finnish history is very neat to me.

26. What do you think about genderbent characters?

Heck I used to love them but now I’m neutral

Perhaps depends on the character.

27. What breakup was the hardest.

Oh none hit me very hard but my last boyfriend took it the worst I’d bet.

28. Do you have someone where you can’t decide if you like them romantically or just as a friend?

Still with Val. I just don’t know how to feel.

29. What do you think about tumblr discourse?

Ugh I came here to get away from it but as long as it’s sporadical and not constant I can put up with it.

30. What instrument do you wish you could master?

I’d just like to pursue bass decently rn, we’ll talk about that later.

One day I’ll drum hot for teacher. I just needa buy a better drum set. I guess just being able to play both instruments decently would be a blessing.

31. How easy is it for you to be honest?

As easy as it is to lie.

I’m very honest and trustworthy but I could also be the exact opposite.

32. Do you have any strange interests?

Oh god okay so while y’all are over here obsessing over guys hands I can’t help but look at their stomach like omg I just wanna lay on it while my man tells me how much he loves me.

It’s not weird but I love Finnish accents. Just less common to hear someone say that rather than English.

Well I could go on and list a lot of stuff but then again

33. Do you have any strange fears?

Peter steele 🤣

Obviously a joke but anyways

34. What food do you binge when you’re lazy?

Fries usually but I could eat pasta or fish sticks or rice galore.

35. When you get angry how do you show it?

Usually through cursing a lot but when I’ve got the hots for someone I curse a lot too. I speak more violently when I’m mad though I probably won’t act as violent as I sound. Don’t be afraid.

However as much as I say it I will gladly break your nose and you’d better believe it so it better not come to that point.

36. Do you have any impulsive movements?

Eh idunno but when I get bored I’ll put my index finger on my nose (up to about my eye. So if my hand is on my nose you better spice up the topic.) oh I also play with my hair when I get bored.

And if I get anxious it’ll be obvious. I’ve also been told when I get scared I have a death grip so if you try and work up my nerves just expect your hand to be broken 😝

37. What do you listen to music on?

That depends. If I want 80s music I’ll go to amazon, if it’s not on Amazon or I want something specific from Spotify then I go to YouTube. If I don’t know what I want or I want Finnish music I’ll go to Spotify.

38. Are you left brained or right brained?

I don’t think I have a brain. As much as my mom wants to tell me I’m left I seem to be more right brained.

39. Earbuds or headphones?

Ugh earbuds. I don’t like headphones unless I’m using my Walkman. Headphones are so 2010s/elementary school 😂

40. Do you like light blankets or heavy?

Meh light. I just don’t get the thing about heavy blankets. Plus they’re frustrating to get settled in.

Yay that was super fun! Thank you!!

[piratewithvigor]

Love Break My Heart: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: A half-life relationship is disintegrating at the seams. Neither of them is good for the other, but after 14 years together, they don’t know how to be with each other anymore.

Word Count: 2179

A/N: This is a prize story written for @slashscowboyboots​ that is getting written super fast because I seem to be on a roll. Unless I get hit with a massive plot bunny, the next chapter will be the final one.

I’m running. It’s a distant memory from long ago, but I can feel the uneven gravel under my sneakers. Every little pebble getting stuck in the grooves of the sole. My lungs are aching for air, but I’m not slowing down. I can’t afford to slow down. The tree shows itself over the horizon and I exhale hard in relief. The tree is safety presenting itself to us, allowing us reprise.

I don’t slow down until I grab hold of the tree, the bark scraping the skin on my hand and wrist. Only then do my feet stop moving. Axl arrives moments after I do, tagging into pause in much the same way, but not drawing blood from his palm like I did.

His face is much the same as it is now. A jawline that could cut glass and lips appearing just as soft. His hair is a little shorter and not quite as straight, but he’s already well on his way to having it be too long for most of Indiana. The one thing that’s never changed are his eyes. Even as he’s gasping for air with his hands on his knees, he looks up at me and his eyes are the same. They remind me of the day I first noticed them: a stormy day with a grey sky shadowing over green fields. We’d snuck out of class to smoke under the bleachers of the football field and got caught in the storm. We stayed mostly dry there and got the best view of the downpour. Axl had said something that made me look into his eyes and notice them for the first time. His words exactly are lost to me.

Once Axl catches his breath, he straightens up and grins.

“So you beat me here; big whoop.”

“I don’t think that’s what the deal was,” I counter, crossing my arms as I lean against the tree.

“What deal? I don’t remember a deal.” He’s trying to look innocent and for a moment, it almost works on me. But no fourteen-year-old buys crap that obvious.

“C’mon, Bill. You gotta do it. I beat you fair and square.”

Axl sighs before taking a few steps back from me to give himself space. To his credit, he isn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter how stupid it was. And this was the epitome of stupid.

“Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for a place to go…” His voice sounds ridiculous when mentally compared to the original vocals of Dancing Queen, but his attitude towards it is perfect. With the front of his hair fluffed out to the sides, he looks just like a ginger version of Agnetha Fältskog.

I’m cracking up during the entire performance. Partly because of watching my best friend make a fool of himself to no one but me, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it. I didn’t even know he knew all the words to Dancing Queen, but life surprises you daily. The chorus is the moment he truly belts out into the open field. It’s the moment when I watch all of the cares leave his body. All the stress. Everything he has to suffer through at his house is forgotten and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was enjoying himself.

I’m almost sad to hear the song end, but it does. And with an almost regal bow that I’m sure caused Axl to brush the grass underneath with his elbow. Just to play along, I’m applauding. I’m sure he thinks it’s to make fun of him, which is what the whole ordeal was supposed to be about in the first place, but there’s a hint of sincerity in there that I hope he picks up on.

“Thank you, thank you, all,” he declares, speaking to an imaginary audience. “We’ve been ABBA and now we’re going to shut the fuck up so no one has to hear that goddamn song ever again.”

“Bold words coming from someone who knows every line.” I smirk, sitting down with my back against the tree.

“Everyone knows every line. When’s the last day you haven’t heard that fucking noise on the radio?” He gripes, sitting down across from me.

“Fair enough. Wish they’d play more of the good stuff. Like that new Aerosmith album.”

Axl covers his ears in a hurry.

“Don’t say anything about it! I’ve been saving my allowance for three weeks to get it, so don’t spoil it!” I chuckle and reach over to pull his hands away from his ears.

“I won’t say anything, but why don’t you just come to my place to listen to it?”

“I can’t listen to anything for the first time with someone else in the room. It ruins the experience.”

“That seems stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s like… It’s like the movies, y’know?” I raise my eyebrow at him. He’s fumbling for an explanation hard enough that he looks like he might fall over. “Like, when you go to the movies, sometimes you can go with someone if you don’t really care about it, because half your attention is watching how the other person reacts the entire time and it doesn’t matter. But if you go alone, you can really pay attention to the details.”

“Guess that makes sense. You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“You gotta. What’s the point in enjoying something unless it’s the best experience it can be?”

Axl’s eyes have lit up while he’s talking. If I’m being honest, my mind is in two places as I listen: half focused on what he’s saying and half watching him say it. Axl doesn’t talk with his hands too much like how some people do when they get passionate. He talks with his eyes. You can only see it if you’re truly looking for it. It might be the reason why none of the adults ever thought he cared about anything. But he truly does.

“Is being alone all you need to enjoy an album?” I eventually ask, on the realisation that I haven’t said anything in a few moments.

“Usually. Sometimes I smoke a little, but that’s only for, like, Pink Floyd or something. Speaking of which…” He gives me a look and I know he knows I know what he’s talking about. It’s still fun to dick around with him anyway.

“Speaking of what?”

“C’mon, Jeff…”

“You must have me confused with some kind of scoundrel,” I smirk, pulling my cap down over my eyes.

“I have you confused with no one, you pothead dipshit,” Axl laughs, flicking my cap off.

“Well, since you were so mean to me, I’m just going to smoke it all, then.”

“I’ll frisk you over it.” He says it like a threat, but my heart still skips a beat when he says it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

I hadn’t noticed we were in a Mexican standoff until we were already knee-deep. He was on his knees, staring me down without a hint of joking in his expression. I was doing my best to keep the same stoicism on my face, but something in the air was making me want to giggle. It was probably only a minute or so before I cracked and reached into my shirt pocket to toss the little baggie of joints at him.

“Yeah, I’m the pothead,” I snickered as I watched him light one up eagerly.

“You’re baked more than a Dunkin Donuts,” he countered, exhaling happily.

“No shit, idiot. Donuts are fried.”

“Just like your brain from how much you smoke.”

The back-and-forth continues and only grows sillier as we smoke. We both consider ourselves experts on pot. Real hot shit because we know how to do it without coughing too much. Typical young teenager dumbassery.

The evening is growing later and our conversation is calmer. Less silly and more dreamy. Axl is no longer sitting across from me, but beside me with his back to the tree as well to make passing the joint back and forth easier. Our shoulders are brushing and sometimes hands as well. If I weren’t a little high, I never would have thought anything of it, but my mind keeps getting drawn back to every detail about the kid sitting beside me. Details like how he always smells like old books on Monday morning because he spent all of the day before at church. How his clothes never quite fit him right because they’re either from when he was a kid, or he’s lost weight. How soft his hair feels when a light breeze blows a few strands into my face.

“When we get out of here, we’re going to be huge,” he murmurs, finally accepting that we’ve smoked the joint down to the nub and puts it out.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. Who wouldn’t want to listen to you, Miss Disco Queen?” I tease. He punches me lightly in the arm.

“I’m serious. We could totally make it. We’ve got the stuff.”

“And when have you ever heard of someone from Indiana really making it big?”

“No one from Indiana, exactly, but tons of hick kids make it big. Like, Liverpool is the hick town of England, I think.”

“You serious?”

“I mean, probably. They sound like hick English guys when they talk.”

“And Buddy Holly was from a hick Texas town.”

“Jeff, he died when he was 23. Not the greatest role model.”

“He was 22, but think of it: that was almost 20 years ago and people still like him.”

“What’s your point?”

I shrug and cross my fingers behind my head to cushion it from the tree. “Dunno anymore. Guess that anyone can make it with the right stuff.”

Axl seems to agree with me because he doesn’t say anything else.

The moment is one that sticks with me long afterwards. In the 14 years since we’ve been 14, I still remember every detail. My back is aching against the rough back poking through my shirt and I know Axl’s back is hurting from the beating he’d gotten a few days ago. The bruises were finally turning away from the nasty black and blue, but now they were yellow, which was almost worse. He’s leaning on me a little bit. Not in a way that implied anything, just in a way that expressed his exhaustion from the evening. The sun is setting in front of us and I almost wish I had brought my sunglasses. I usually never go anywhere without them, but the race from my house to the tree was something I couldn’t risk losing them on. In a way, I’m glad. It means nothing is blocking the colours. The sky is the same orange as Axl’s hair. The setting sun over the horizon feels the same way the colour appears; warm, safe. I’m feeling the gold-laced orange on my face and against my fingers as I lower my hands from behind my head and tentatively wrap one around Axl’s shoulders. He doesn’t move beyond adjusting to allow me to place my arm comfortably and I take it to mean he’s okay with the change. Just in case I took his body language wrong, I turn to him to check and my body freezes. The glow of the dusk is still radiating from him, making his hair glow. It feels like I’m holding a small ball of fire under my arm. He turns to look up at me and I feel I should turn away, but I can’t bring myself to. The sight is too spectacular to have end.

Axl ends it for me.

Before I can apologise for my staring, his lips are on mine. They’re just as soft as I always guessed they were. Plush and yielding and unwilling to let me back away. He tastes like the weed we just smoked with a hint of the burgers my mom made for us only a few hours ago. He tastes like Axl. Feels like Axl. I could make all the comparisons I wanted to, but at the end of the day, he was more than the sum of the parts I love about him. He’s Axl. My Axl.

He pulls away hardly an inch and I find myself as breathless as I was after sprinting a mile. Breathing isn’t as important as it once was. Nothing seems to be. Everything that’s important to me is already here.

“I hope that was okay…” He whispers, the lasting sunlight illuminating the blush spotting his cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

“You’re not the only one,” I respond, cupping his face in my free hand. I pull him close and kiss him again, dissipating all the fear I know he held during the first.

I go back to this memory often. Reminding myself of the love we held for each other once upon a time. I’m back in it again tonight as I sit alone at the kitchen table, holding an ice pack to my face to ease the swelling after my Fireball successfully got me with a lamp.

[hailing-stars]

like a lullaby 

Read on AO3

Trope: Hair Playing 

Summary 

Peter didn’t know how much time passed before Tony’s dad reflexes kicked in.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there, hunched over a picnic table, with his head cradled in his hands, but he knew it wasn’t long.  Pain made time move slowly, and Tony found him fast.

His and Morgan’s arrival was announced by a soft poke to his side.

“Pete? Are you okay?” asked Morgan. He didn’t respond, didn’t know if he was still capable of producing words. “You were right, dad. Homework ate Peter.”

OR 

Peter gets a migraine and Tony takes care of him

like a lullaby 

Peter wiped sweat off his forehead and tried to ignore the aching at the back of his eyes.

Usually he regretted ignoring it. Usually it was a sure sign a migraine was coming, but he clung to denial and continued to glare at his laptop screen, trying to see the words on the screen out in the blinding sun.

That probably wasn’t helping him fight off the incoming migraine, but it couldn’t be helped. It was a nice day, and if he was stuck studying and doing homework on a day like that, he could at least do it outside.

He’d set up a study station with his laptop, notebooks, highlights and textbooks outside, on a picnic table, under a tree, next to the lake. It was that spot exactly that made Tony’s lake house his favorite place to study. It was quiet, where the city was loud with sirens and arguing and the temptation to ditch school work in favor of swinging through the streets as Spider-Man.

He’d rather be doing that.

He was good at being Spider-Man, good at helping people, and once he’d been good at school, too. Not anymore. He’d come back from the dead, rematerialized, but not all of him. He lost something, he just wasn’t sure what it was.

Peter liked to say part of his brain got jumbled and wires were crisscrossed when they were being pulled back together. Tony liked telling him he was wrong.

“It’s anxiety,” he’d told him. The boat under them had rocked, and Tony cast his line out into the lake.

Peter remembered watching it as it soared through the air, and landed off in the distance, the orange bobber moving with the water. He still didn’t know why they were fishing. They had never been before, and haven’t been since, but ever since Peter came back from the dead, Tony had gone crazy doing those types of things.

He was all fun and games, all the time. Peter supposed that was a privilege well earned by the man who saved the world.

“I can’t focus on anything,” Peter had told him, as if to say it wasn’t anxiety. It couldn’t be. “I’m behind in all my classes.”

Tony had taken his eyes off his bobber and shot him a look of concern. “Let me set you up with a therapist.”

He had refused.

He didn’t need to sit around and talk about his problems with a stranger who wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t help. He had Spider-Man to help relieve tension and stress. He’d made a decision that day on the boat. He’d just have to work harder and study more hours.

And that was what he did or at least, that’s what he tried to do.  

The ache in his eyes was tightening into something like a band around his entire skull. He glared at his computer screen, scratched at the back of his hand, then copied down what he thought were the important chunks of text, only to cross them out and write something else in their place.

It didn’t matter, though. Just seconds later, after crossing out even more of his notes and aggressively carving an x through the page, he was blasted in the side of the head with water. He whipped his head around, and his eyes narrowed in on Tony. He stood nearby and wore a sling around his arm that supported a giant, Tony-Stark-upgraded water gun.

All fun, all games, all the time.

“Watch where you’re shooting that thing,” said Peter. He smoothed down the area of his hair that’d taken the blast. “You’re going to get my books wet.”

“Guess that means it’s time for a break, then.”

“I can’t,” said Peter. He tapped his pen against this notebook. He had so much work to do, so much catching up, and Tony knew this, because Peter explained it to him just about a million times.

“Play water wars with me and Morgan,” said Tony. He leveled the gun at him in a threatening manner, then patted the tank that held the ammunition. “Or face the consequences.”

Peter stared down the barrel of the gun. “You know it’s supposed to be the kid distracting the adults away from work, right? Where did all the adults go, by the way?”

His response earned him another blast from the water gun. The water felt good on a day like that, and he didn’t mind it, even it did splash off him and sunk into the pages of his notebook. It made him wish he could go play with Tony and Morgan, that he wasn’t stuck at a picnic table doing homework on the first day of his three-day weekend.

“Being a grown up is overrated,” said Tony. “Ask Rhodey. But okay, fine, be boring and responsible while Morgan and I have fun.”

Peter watched him go, then tried to return his focus back on his classes.

It wasn’t the easiest feat to pull.

It was hot. There were beads of sweat prickling down the back of his neck, and the glare from the sun hitting his computer screen tightened the invisible band around his skull. He shut the computer and switched to his textbook. It didn’t help much.

The words on the page were scrambled just like Peter’s brain, his mind wandered, his knee started to bounce. He was suffocating.

Any second he was going to stop breathing, he was going to disintegrate there at that table. Any second, the end was coming. His breath hitched. He gripped the edges of the picnic table with both hands to keep himself tethered to the earth and took a deep breath.

Out and in, like he read online. He was fine. Thanos was dead. The infinity stones were back where they belonged, and Tony had saved the universe.

Fine. Everything was fine.

He was fine.

A swan swooped down out of the sky and landed in the lake. He stared at it, took another deep breath, and for a second time, returned his eyes back to his books.

It hit him all at once. A sudden explosion of pain in the back of his neck and his forehead. He couldn’t attempt to plow through it, so he gave up instead. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and held them there as he let his upper body fall over the picnic table, all top of all his books.

*

Peter didn’t know how much time passed before Tony’s dad reflexes kicked in.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there, hunched over a picnic table, with his head cradled in his hands, but he knew it wasn’t long.  Pain made time move slowly, and Tony found him fast.

His and Morgan’s arrival was announced by a soft poke to his side.

“Pete? Are you okay?” asked Morgan. He didn’t respond, didn’t know if he was still capable of producing words. “You were right, dad. Homework ate Peter.”

She grumbled another wordy sentence about never wanting to go to school, and Tony laughed.

“He’s not been eaten,” said Tony. He put a soothing hand on Peter’s back and started rubbing circles. “Right, Pete? Please don’t tell us the books won, or Morgan will be traumatized.”

Peter groaned and tried to focus on the comfort Tony’s hand brought, on the circles, instead the pain in his head.

“I need actual words, bud. Confirmation that you’re still in there.”

“Head ‘urts.”

“Just like dad, huh?” asked Tony, with a sigh. “Tried to work through a headache only to make it worse.”

It was hard for Peter to think back and remember the times when Tony was work obsessed.

That time seemed so far away. Ever since the snap, ever since Morgan was born, and Peter was brought back, Tony didn’t work. He created, but that was different from work. Creating was for fun, and usually resulted upgraded water guns or other fancy toys to entertain Morgan.

“Ok come on, you’re done.”

“But –“said Peter. It was just the beginning of a protest, and it was one he couldn’t finish, so he didn’t even try. Instead he let Tony coax him up from the picnic table and into the house, where he was hit with cool air and shelter from the sun.

“Lights to 20, Fri,” said Tony, as they walked into the living room.

Tony grabbed some pillows, sunk into the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. He put the pillows against his lap and made a gesture with his arm for Peter to come and lay down.

Once his head hit the pillow, Tony put his cool, metal, prosthetic hand against Peter’s forehead. It was instant relief. It didn’t take all the pain away, but it let Peter close his eyes and imagine he might feel normal again someday.

“Dad, is Peter dying?” asked Morgan.

“No honey, he’s okay, his head just hurts a little bit, so we’re going to keep the lights low and our voices quiet, alright?” said Tony. He put his fingers, his real fingers, through Peter’s hair, again and again. “Hey Morgunna, want to do us a favor?”

“Yeah.” She reduced her voice to a whisper.

“Go find mom and tell her we need a water bottle, the cold pack from the freezer and the migraine medicine, the strong stuff. Think you can remember all that?”

“Mmhmm,” said Morgan, and Peter listened as her tiny footsteps got further and further away until they were gone, and all he wanted to focus on was Tony’s hand running through his hair and his other planted on his forehead. If he could just get lost in that, and the comfort it provided, maybe he could at least pretend his head wasn’t about to explode.  

When Pepper came into the living room, and brought all the items Tony requested, he made him sit up, just long enough to take a few sips of water and wash the pills down. He collapsed back down on the pillow immediately afterward, but when Tony’s hand didn’t come back to rest on his forehead, Peter grabbed it and moved it there himself.

Tony took it back, and Peter made a disgruntled sound until it returned, that time, to press the cold pack against his forehead instead of just the metal.

Like a soothing lullaby, the kind with rhythm, but also the kind that didn’t need words, his fingers started working their way through his hair again. It was relaxing. It lured him to sleep, and he drifted in and out as the medicine took effect and the pain ebbed away.

He stayed half-conscious, listening but not really comprehending Tony and Pepper as they chatted. The TV had been set to low, and at some point, Peter had gotten jostled when Morgan climbed on Tony to give him goodnight kisses. Sometime after that, someone had tossed a blanket over him.  

His headache was reduced to just something dull, just leftovers from what it was before, so, slowly, he sat up. Tony was still there with him on the couch, and he watched Peter as he rubbed his eyes and took a drink from the water bottle on the coffee table.

“Better?” asked Tony, as Peter screwed the cap back on the water and set it down on the table.

“Yeah,” said Peter, and his words came out like a breath of relief.

“Does that happen a lot?” asked Tony. Peter stared back at him. “Do you get headaches like that a lot?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say a lot.”

“How many times in a week?”

He shouldn’t have sat up. He should have pretended that he was still asleep, or that his homework really had eaten him. Either of those options were preferable to this interrogation. He knew it was an interrogation. Tony was using the Dad Voice, and it demanded his answer.

“Maybe like two or three times,” said Peter. He sunk back into the couch cushions, wishing he could disappear inside them.

Tony let out a tired, weary sigh. “That’s too many, Pete. You don’t have to live like that.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how not to live like that.

“I want you to see a therapist,” said Tony. He was still using the Dad Voice, and Peter knew giving his complaints a voice wouldn’t matter if Tony had already made up his mind, so he went with logical instead.

“I should be seeing a neurologist.”

“May’s told me you’ve already been,” said Tony. “But I thought it had been resolved since I hadn’t heard anything else about it for months.”

Peter wondered when May had told Tony about the headaches, how often they discuss him with him knowing anything about it.

“She also told me she’s been trying to get you to go to therapy, too,” said Tony. Apparently a lot. They talked about him a lot. “She says you’ve been stressed out and anxious, and so this isn’t your choice anymore, I’m making an executive decision.”

He stared at him and guessed that was that. Whatever Tony decided, May would go along with. They both just really took the whole co-parenting idea too far.

“No shame in getting help,” he continued. “I wish I would’ve started therapy a lot sooner than I did.”

“I’m going to bed,” said Peter, standing up from the couch. He left the dark living room and Tony as cold, as fast, as he could.

He regretted it as soon as he was in his own bed, under the covers, with his head on a different pillow. Without Tony’s hand singing lullabies through his hair, he tossed and turned the rest of the night.

*

“It’s time to get up! It’s time to get up!”

Peter blinked his eyes open, but absolutely refused to move. He was stubborn and wanted to hang onto sleep as long as possible. His bed was moving, though. It was shaking under him, because Morgan Stark was jumping up and down somewhere near his feet

“It’s time to plllayyyy!”

A few drops of water hit the back of his head, and he sat up quickly. Morgan wore shorts, a t-shirt, and had a bandana tied in her hair. She had war paint on her face, and a tiny plastic water gun in her hand.

Like father, like daughter.

Peter imagined himself jumping out of bed and finding his own water gun, imagine chasing her and Tony around the yard, and wished he had the time for it. Thanks to his migraine yesterday, he missed a whole day of work and now had to play catch up instead of water guns.

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” said Peter. “I can’t. I’m too busy today.”

She finally stopped jumping and titled her head at him. “Dad said that you’d say that, and he also told me to tell you he’s taking all your school stuff hostage and the only way to get it back is by force.”

“Of course he did.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed, and his feet hit the carpet. “Where is he?”

“Outside,” said Morgan. She jumped off his bed and followed him out into the hallway. “You should probably get a shield or something because he still has the super soaker 3000.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“But there’s this really cool one in the garage. We used to use it all the time.”

“Pretty sure dad gave that one back,” said Peter, as they both made it to the bottom of the staircase.

Peter marched out of the house, fueled by anger he was too spent to feel last night. It wasn’t fair Tony was forcing him to go to therapy. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t seem to understand how important school was to him, and that he insisted on playing games instead of getting work done.

He spotted Tony on the dock, with the super soaker 3000 strapped around his chest, but that didn’t stop him. He continued his march towards him, and Morgan continued following him, up until the grass became wood. He went on without her, and with Tony watching him with a raised eyebrow.

He shouldn’t look so surprised. The genius had to know what was coming.

“Where’d you put my school stuff?” demanded Peter.

“Oh,” said Tony. “Did Morgan not tell you my terms?”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes but resisted in attempt to look less like a teenager, and more like someone to fear. He wondered if it was what happened when superheroes got old and retired. They had to play out their battles with children and water guns.

“Really?”

“Really,” said Tony. He pumped the gun a few times. “And you came all the way out here without a weapon.”

A drop of sweat dripped across the back of Peter’s neck. It was so hot, just like it had been the day before. The sunlight gleamed against the lake, and an idea came like a spark, one that must’ve lit up his eyes.

“Parker don’t you dare – “

He did dare.

Peter shoved Tony off the dock but hadn’t been considering that his reflexes were so incredibly sharp. He put all the blame on the prosthetic. The same hand that cooled off his forehead the night before locked around his arm, and they both fell into the lake, plunging into the water at the exact same time.

Underwater, Peter yanked his arm free from Tony’s grip and breached the surface. Between earfuls of water he could hear Morgan laughing from the shore and Tony splashing around next to him.

“That’s cheating,” said Tony. He sent a splash Peter’s way, and he failed to dodge it.

Peter spat out lake water. It drizzled down his chin. “No it’s not. It’s winning.”

“It’s a draw, smartass.” He swam closer and dunked him under with the prosthetic arm. Peter came back up just in time to hear Tony finish with, “That’s winning.”

He spat out more lake water, except that time, he aimed it at Tony, then shook his head back and forth, trying to air out his hair. They splashed each other a few more times while they treaded water, until Tony got clobbered in the eyes with water, and Peter laughed. The sound was like a slap in the face for both of them. Tony stopped rubbing his eyes, stared, blinked.

It was a sound that had been missing, but not discovered as missing until it was found again.

His muscles were looser, when he hadn’t even realized they’d been tight, and when he met Tony’s stare, the idea that he’d been right along wafted around in the air. The snap hadn’t fried his IQ, it broke something in his spirit.

“Dad!” Morgan shouted. “Can I come swim, too?”

“Uh, yeah, stay right there,” said Tony. He blinked at Peter a couple of times, as if seeing him for the first time, then started his swim over to her. “I have to go find your water wings.”

“Awww dad I know how to swim.”

“Too bad. You’re wearing floaties until you bring home a few gold medals.”

Peter followed Tony to shore, but only to go inside and switch his soaking pajamas out for his swim trunks.

He spent the rest of the day doing backflips off the dock to impress Morgan and laughing at Tony when he tried to pull of the same moves. His mocking got him a few blasts of water from the super soaker 3000, but he didn’t mind.  

They had dinner outside, once Tony put his water guns down long enough to man the grill, and after the sun went down behind the lake, Peter was just as burnt as the marshmallow on the end of his stick. They sat around the fire, eating smores, chatting, laughing for hours, and Peter didn’t want it to end.

It had too, though, and the ending to that night was signified by Tony standing from his chair.

“Alright, time for bed, Morgan.”

She didn’t answer. She was already asleep, faceup in the grass, and holding a half-eaten s’more in one hand.

“Out like a light,” laughed Pepper. She was the one to pick her up off the ground, while Tony took the s’more out of her hand and tossed it into the fire for the flames to eat. “I’ll take her to bed. You guys should… talk.”

Peter waited until Pepper disappeared inside the house with Morgan before he stared at Tony. Just the fire sat between them. He didn’t have any of the anger he’d had before. He knew Tony was right, but he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“I don’t want to talk,” said Peter, but he didn’t want to be alone, either. “I just… do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, buddy,” said Tony. “I’m picking though. I’m not watching another Star Wars or Harry Potter movie for as long as I live.”

Peter didn’t care what movie went on the TV. He didn’t plan on watching it. He was tried from swimming but didn’t trust himself to fall asleep on his own. When they both plopped down on the couch, Peter used Tony as a pillow and waited for him to start playing with his hair, waited for the lullaby to start, so he could drift off, and actually get some rest.

*

Rain pounding against the house woke Peter up the next morning.

He blinked his eyes open, and crawled out from under Tony’s arm, careful not to wake him up. Tony was still snoring as Peter stepped out of the living room, so he figured he’d been successful.

His feet took him out to the porch automatically. He needed to watch it, and hear it more clearly, the way the rain hit the lake, the way it made everything new and fresh. Besides that, the mist that blew on the porch with the breeze felt good on his sunburnt face.

It was relaxing, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that relaxed, that rested, and that was sort of the problem. He hadn’t realized something was wrong until he had a day that felt right. He didn’t know there was another way to live, the way he used to live, until Tony forced him to see it.

But his realization came a little bit too late. It was Sunday, and later on he’d have to drive back to the city. The next morning, he’d have to return to school.

The front door opened with a squeak, and Peter turned just in time to see a tube of Aloe flying at his head. He caught it with one hand and tried to make a face at Tony. It turned into a grimace, into regret, as the sunburn crinkled with pain.

“You’re a lobster,” said Tony, as he walked across the porch to stand next to him. “Ever heard of sunscreen? It’s this magical stuff that keeps us all from getting skin cancer.” He put his hands on the wooden handrail, then looked at Peter. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“I was just – I was watching – “

“-We have a lot of work to do.”

Peter frowned again. “But you- “

“I figured I could help you knock out some of that studying before you leave today,” said Tony. He gestured beyond the porch. “What else are rainy days for?”

“I was thinking about that,” said Peter. “Maybe I don’t go back today. Maybe I stay an extra night.”

“That’s an awful long way to drive first thing in the morning, right before school, Pete.”

“Maybe I take the day off school.”

“A day off, huh?” asked Tony. He swiped the aloe from Peter’s hand, and popped open the cap. “And what would you do on this day off?”

“Maybe we can take Morgan to the zoo,” Peter suggested, with a shrug. “And there’s this new ice cream shop she’d love near central park.”

“She does love ice cream,” said Tony. He squeezed some aloe into his hands. “And it’s been awhile since we’ve been to the zoo.”

Peter closed his eyes and cringed, waited for his face to hurt as Tony attacked him with aloe, but the gel felt cool as it was spread over his forehead and both his cheeks. Once he was done, Peter opened his eyes, seeing Tony as he set the tube down on the handrail.

“Then maybe after we can see if we can find any therapy, uh, places, in my area,” said Peter. He swallowed a lump in his throat. It was harder to admit than he wanted it to be, but once it was out, it was a breath of fresh air.  

Tony grinned at him, pulled him into a hug before Peter had a chance to react, and kissed the top of his head through his hair. They broke out of the hug, only for Tony to aggressively mess up his hair.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” said Tony. He was still grinning as he turned and walked back towards the front door. He paused, with his hand on the door frame. “I gotta go fabricate an email to your school about you having the flu.”

Peter looked back out towards the lake, where the rain was still beating into it. It was fine. Everything was fine, the universe, the world, his world, and someday, he would be fine, too.

[ai-suru-hito-yo]

Waiting For Someone To Release Me (Pt. 3)

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Your search for a new job leads you to cross paths with one of your new found friends, who invites you to the next Queen show.

Warnings: none? bad humor, probably bad writing I am exhausted and my brain is fried.

A/N: Part 3. This is a lot of filler and a lot of Roger. I meant to continue this on further until after the show, but she’s already a beast and I got to a point that seems natural to stop at. So the next part will pick up with more actual plot, more John, and a lot more action.

Part 1 Part 2

Sunlight streamed in through the crack in the curtains, washing a small sliver of your bedroom in bright yellow morning light. Even with your eyes closed, your body detected the light boring in on you, pulling you from a deep sleep. You lay there motionless for a few breaths, simply taking in the sounds of the world around you and reflecting.

You had spent the better part of the last two days searching for work to no avail. After it sank in that you no longer had a source of income, you had gone through three different bouts of panic in the span of the weekend, interspersed with frantic searches through newspaper listings and long walks through the city looking for “help wanted” signs in any of the shop windows. Any time you had not dedicated to job searching was spent eating, sleeping, and dreaming of long, soft hair and green-grey eyes.

You knew you had to find a job right away. You had saved a decent sum of money for any desperate times that may come up, but it was not much. Your rent was coming due in a week and your emergency fund would dry up fast.

It was now Monday, the third day since you had been fired from the pub and the third day since that fateful night in which you had met four very charismatic and intriguing young men with whom you had instantly connected.

Unfortunately you had all gone your separate ways that night and you had no idea how to contact any of them. You had their names, and you knew where the block of flats where two of them lived was located, but you had no idea which specific door was theirs. You were not about to go knocking on all the doors or loitering on the front step like some lost puppy or pining schoolgirl, waiting for one of them to show themselves. Instead, you simply kept your head up and looked for any sign of them or their band as you went about your life, hoping fate might bring your paths together again.

Sighing, you threw your threadbare duvet off your body and shivered slightly against the cold air. You sat at the edge of your bed and stretched, your whole body tensing until you heard and felt a satisfying 'pop' in your spine. You shook out your bed head a bit as you tried to wake up a little more, before pulling on your bathrobe and heading to the shower to start your day.

You only had one class today, so you would be spending most of the day on the hunt for employment. You decided you would scope out the area of shops and cafes around Kensington Market today, hoping that your hard searching would finally pay off. It was a bustling area with new shops constantly opening and expanding, and you thought it seemed like as good a place as any to scope out.

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The last ten minutes of your class seemed to be taking 10 hours, at least. You looked up at the clock every few seconds, hoping to see it meet the hour, only to find it had only been a breath or two since you had last looked. You sighed, causing the guy in front of you to turn slightly toward you with a furrowed brow. Have I been doing that a lot? you thought. You decided to busy yourself with quietly packing away your notes, as you were no longer listening to anything the professor said, and avoided eye contact with the other student. Finally came the welcome sound of your professor's farewell accompanied by the sounds of other students shifting about, packing up their things and discussing study groups.

You immediately bolted for the door, eager to get to the bus stop and off to Kensington to start your search immediately. You turned left at the door instead of right, and made you way down the unfamiliar path toward the other side of campus. Other students gave you frustrated looks as you bolted past them, nearly bowling a girl over once you saw the bus stop in sight. The bus had just pulled up, and you hurried even faster, hoping to catch it and avoid waiting 20 minutes for the next one. That's when you saw him.

Standing three back in the line to board the bus, a tall, slender man with waves of shiny, red-brown hair, his rounded nose in perfect profile from where you stood. Your heart skipped a beat. Surely it could not be him?

“John!” you called out, praying he would hear you above the hustle and bustle surrounding you. “John Deacon!”

John's head whipped around, hair flying, searching around him for the source of the voice he had just heard calling for him. You tried to wave to him, but a group of young school children rounded the corner then, too busy talking amongst themselves to see where they were going. They pushed you back out of John's line of vision At that moment, the lady behind him must have said something about holding up the line, for John flashed her an apologetic smile and quickly hopped on the bus.

You finally broke free of the group of children just as the bus drove off again. You sat on the bench at the stop and buried your face in your hands, feeling like could have cried, and were very close to the tears spilling over as you stared between your fingers at the grey pavement below you. You were so close. So close to getting John's attention, so close to being able to see and speak to him again, and he slipped right through your grasp.

You sat at the bus stop and stared at the ground in frustration and defeat until the next bus to Kensington Market stopped in front of you.

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Once you finally made it to Kensington, you put the matter of John and Queen behind you, instead shifting your focus totally on your job search. The first business you spotted upon exiting the bus was a small cafe with a very cliche looking neon sign depicting a steaming cuppa in the wide front window. It looked small and somewhat dingy, but still warm and clean. You were absolutely freezing standing out in the late autumn breeze, so you decided it would surely not hurt to step inside for a coffee and a warm up to help you along your search.

Upon stepping inside, there were two things that caught your attention which made you very happy you had stepped inside. First was the “help wanted” sign hanging from the till. A smile plastered itself to your face, and you waited patiently to place your order.

“Hi! I'll take a drip coffee and an employment application, please,” you said to the barista, who looked momentarily confused by your request.

“Oh, oh! Oh yeah! Just a second,” she turned toward the back room, and shouted, “Hey, Marie, we got a live one!”

“Oh, yeah?,” a loud but upbeat voice answered from somewhere in the depths of the shop. “Well hand over the papers and tell them to take a seat. And the coffee is on the house!”

The barista handed you a sheet of paper from below the register and told you to take a seat wherever you would like. You thanked her before turning toward where you had spotted some empty tables when you arrived. That was when you spotted the second thing that you made you sure you had come to the right place.

Sitting alone at a table for two with a large mug in front of him, mop of blond tresses artfully askew, was none other than Roger Taylor. Your face could have cracked with how wide you smiled, and you hurried over to him, forgetting the paper clutched in your hand.

“Finally!” you said, announcing your presence once you were just a few steps from him. He quickly looked up at you from his magazine, surprised by suddenly being addressed in the middle of the cafe.

“Finally, what?” he asked as a mischievous smile broke out across his features. He folded the corner of his magazine to mark his place, before gesturing to the other seat, offering it to you. You set your coffee down before climbing into the tall stool, never taking your eyes off his sparkling blue ones.

“Finally I was able to track one of you down! We all went our separate ways on Friday after what was probably the most eventful night of my life, and I had no way of contacting any of you!”

“So, you followed me to Kensington?” Roger chided you. You nearly choked on your coffee as you took a sip.

“No, no, not at all! It was a coincidence, I swear,” you tried to backpedal before you noticed Roger was shaking slightly with laughter.

“I was joking, (Y/N)”, he said, reaching for his half empty mug. It was then that you noticed the black and blue marks all over his right hand and yelped.

“Oh my god, Roger! Your hand!” you reached toward it, but realized grabbing his hand might hurt it more so you quickly withdrew it before flattening it on the table next to his magazine. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“What? Oh, that. No. It's just bruised, I promise. Nothing broken or dislocated or anything. It's happened before. Bruised hands kind of come with the territory.” He waved his good hand through the air like he was just brushing away a pesky insect. You could not help but think it looked very painful. The knuckles of Roger's hands were indiscernible beneath the swelling, and the marred black, red, and blue covered his skin from the lower knuckles of his fingers all the way down the back, nearly meeting his wrists. Roger watched you still examining his hand for a moment before he pulled it to his lap and out of your sight.

“It's nothing, I promise. I'm so used to the bruises by now, as a drummer. I power through, they heal until the next time, the cycle starts again.”

“That's different though, Roger. You didn't get those from going a little too hard at rehearsal or showing off at a gig.”

“Really, I promise, it's fine. The ice pack helped a lot. Besides, it needed to be done. That dickhead needed to be taught a lesson, I decided to be his tutor. The satisfaction totally outweighs the pain.”

You looked into Roger's eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and good-natured humor, and so decided to drop the subject for now. Instead, you flashed him a smile before changing the subject.

“So, Mr. Taylor, what brings you all the way to Kensington?”

“Work,” he replied on a sigh, slumping somewhat in his seat.

“Oh?” you asked, intrigued. “Has Queen got another show in the area?”

Roger looked back up at you then, his posture changing into a more open one. “No, nothing like that. It's my day job. Freddie and I run a little stall in the market to supplement our income. We don't quite get enough gigs to um...sustain our lifestyle.”

“Really?” you asked, eager to learn all you could about Roger and his bandmates. You had no clue why you were so curious, but you felt an inexplicable bond to these gents, like they were fated to be part of your life. It had been so long since you had met any new people, your life being almost entirely dedicated to work and school for the last two years. You felt like you had been stuck in a glass cage, able to see and at least partially experience everything happening around you, waiting for something, but you never knew what. Perhaps you were about to find out.

“Yeah, we sell antiques. Clothes and accessories and that sort of thing. Most of it is rubbish that Freddie finds god knows where, but I do pay some attention to trends and that, so we get by.”

You were interested to hear that someone like Roger was so interested in fashion and popular trends. You figured he was the kind of person to do whatever he wanted and dress however he wanted and not care what anyone else thought. The more you looked at him, though, the more you realized he actually looked quite casually stylish, with his dark wash bell-bottom jeans, button up shirt, and purple high-top sneakers. There was also what looked like a patchwork cap sitting next to him on the windowsill along with a pair of sunglasses.

“Well I must admit I never would have guessed that,” you said with a grin.

“What about you? What brings you all the way out here?” Roger asked, leaning over the table toward you.

“Well, thanks to Charlie's lovely behavior and Mike's...overall...Mike-ness I find myself in need of employment. Figured I'd scope out the market today, see if anyone was hiring, and I just so happened to stumble in here and saw a sign. In fact, I'm meant to be waiting for someone named Marie...”

“Oh, yeah, Marie,” Roger said fondly. “She's a riot, you'll like her. She owns the place. Very hands on, she's always here working, does all the baking herself. Crazy but in all the best ways.”

“You seem to know a lot about her, Roger. Is there something going on between you two I should know about?”

“What?!” Roger all but shouted back at you. “No! That's insane! I just come here a lot. I'm a regular, and Marie treats her regulars right, that's all. Nothing going on there.”

“Okay I believe you!” You were laughing heartily now, the panic in Roger's eyes slowly fading to embarrassment. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize how defensive you would get. I wasn't serious.”

“No, I'm sorry,” Roger said quietly. “It's just that...no one knows I come here. None of the guys, anyway. Freddie thinks I spend my lunch either at the pub down the road, or in the music shop round the corner from the stall. I do go to the shop occasionally for more sticks or guitar picks, or if they've got a new album I like. But I mostly spend my time in here.”

“Why?” you ask, wondering what's so wrong with the place that he would lie about his whereabouts.

“They've got the best coffee in the area and the pastries are to die for.”

“No, I mean,” you were laughing again, and Roger smiled, too. “I mean, why don't you tell the guys you come here?”

“Well, partly because I'm sure they'd take the mickey out of me if they knew I liked to sit here listening to smooth jazz, sipping fancy coffee and eating fucking pastries, but mostly its because it's a respite from my day and from them. I love them dearly, both as the band and as my friends, don't get me wrong there. But I need a break from the chaos now and then. It's quiet and calm here, and if I brought them here and if, by chance, they enjoyed it and came back...well...”

“There goes your respite,” you finished for him. “You would lose your solitary place.”

“Exactly,” Roger nodded. You found yourself constantly surprised by Roger as you learned more about him, and as you learned more, you wanted to keep learning more. The two of you spoke a while longer, about school (which he had finished) friends, life, and eventually, Queen. Roger seemed very eager to make a living as a musician, and you found yourself thinking about how entranced you were at their gig just a few days ago. You were certain Roger saw their potential just as you had, and found yourself encouraging his ideas and hopes for the future. You find out during your conversation that Queen would be playing again the following Saturday in Camden.

“You have to come! It's our first show in Camden and we need support!”

“I wouldn't miss it,” you found yourself answering without even thinking about what might happen should you actually land the job you were here waiting for. Speaking of which, you looked at you watch and realized you and roger had been talking for almost 40 minutes. You figured you would have been interrupted by Marie my now, and looked around for any sign of her.

Roger must have caught sight of the time, too, for he suddenly jumped up and started collecting his things.

“Blimey! I've been gone nearly and hour! Bloody hell, Fred's gonna be pissed with me.”

“Oh! I'm so sorry I kept you!” you apologized as Roger threw his coat over his shoulders and jammed his cap and sunglasses on.

“Not your fault love, I lost track. See you Saturday, 8 o'clock?”

“Yes!” you said with an enthusiastic nod. “I'll be there!”

Roger turned and quickly made his way to the counter, just as Marie made an appearance from the back. He quickly said something to her that you could not hear which made her look over his shoulder toward you. Then with a sweep of his coat, Roger was gone.

Marie came bustling over to you then. She was a small woman, probably in her mid to late fifties, with short hair and glasses. She looked very much the mothering type, and you already liked her warm smile.

“Sit down, dear, sit down!” she told you, bringing you a refill on your coffee. “I would have come to speak to you sooner, but I saw you having a grand time with young Mr. Taylor and decided to leave you to it while I finished my batch of cupcakes.”

“Oh goodness, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long! I'm so sorry!”

“Pish posh! Sometimes what we need in life is to slow down and connect to other people. Now, let's get started here. What is you name, dear?”

You spent the better part of the next hour in conversation with Marie. She was incredibly easy to talk to and in many ways reminded you of your own mother. You were not entirely sure whether this was meant to be an interview or not, but just in case, you were on your best behavior and answered her questions in depth.

As the conversation lulled somewhat, you were just about to ask if this was a job interview when Marie beat you to the punch.

“Well, (Y/N), when can you start? Let's pinpoint a training day and we'll iron out your schedule and details then. Sound good to you?”

“You mean, I'm hired? But I haven't even filled in the application.”

“Oh that's just a formality at this point,” Marie waved her hand toward the paper still lying on the table in front of you. “Of course I'll need one on file so you can bring it back filled in when you come for your first shift. You were hired the moment Mr. Taylor stopped to commend you so highly.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped. “I'm sorry, he what?”

“He stopped on the way out and told me you were my absolute best option, and that I might as well stop looking now. Maybe it's crazy, but I trust him, and this conversation has only cemented in my mind that he was right.”

Suddenly Saturday could not come soon enough.

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It was Saturday afternoon and you were certain it had come entirely too soon.

You stood in front of your wardrobe, staring at every last piece of clothing jammed into it and realizing quite belatedly that you had nothing to wear. You flatmate was out at the moment, so you had no one to call to for aid, no one else's closet to raid (you refused to touch Sarah's without her permission) and you were on the verge of giving up and staying home when you heard the door open and close followed by the sound of keys being rather forcefully placed on table beside it. Throwing on an oversized t-shirt, you wandered back into the main area of the flat, which served as open kitchen and living room.

“You're home early,” you told Sarah, watching as she struggled to remove her scarf from her red hair, static from the dry winter air causing it to cling everywhere.

“Study group was canceled. Apparently no one thought to inform me that Marcus and James are both sick and Beth got called into work, leaving just me and Allen,” she finally ripped the scarf free and you moved forward to take it from her as her cold, numb fingers started to work on the buttons of her coat. “Obviously that made meeting tonight pointless, but I had to walk half a mile in the snow before finding our rendezvous spot empty. Luckily I had change for the payphone. Anyway, what are you doing? I thought you were going out tonight to see that band?”

“I can't,” you sighed. “I have nothing to wear!”

Sarah pursed her lips at you, thinking for a moment. “That's not true. What about the crop top you bought just a couple weeks ago? Or that romper you wore to Tina's party? You looked great in that!” You suddenly found yourself being pulled back into your bedroom as Sarah rummaged through your clothing.

“Aha!” she shouted in triumph before pulling out a slinky, silky dark blue piece of cloth that flowed loose and light from the hanger it was on.

“I don't know,” you said, chewing at your thumbnail. “You don't think it would be a bit much?”

“Are you serious, (Y/N)? No, it's not too much! Its fashionable, it's sexy, it's a head-turner without being too revealing. I think it'll be perfect. Come on, I have the perfect shoes and earrings to go with it. I'll do your make-up, too!”

Twenty minutes later, you were dressed, bejeweled, and just putting the finishing touches on your long, sleek hair as Sarah watched in the mirror from beside you.

“You look foxy, (Y/N)! Perfect for a rock show! Ooh, wait! Mascara!!” she said, turning toward you with the little black tube, ready to attack your eyeslashes.

“Um, I think I can do this bit myself, thanks,” you chuckled and took the tube from her, quickly swiping a single coat onto each eye, before standing back and admiring the overall look. You had to admit, with the help of Sarah's earrings and makeup skills, you were quite pleased with what you saw. Taking a final deep breath, you decided you were ready and made your way to where your coat hung on the back of a kitchen chair.

“You sure you don't wanna come with me, Sarah?” you asked her one last time.

“Nah, I'm exhausted, and it's freezing out there. You go have your fun.”

You gave Sarah a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing out the door and into the waiting cab.

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

Upon arriving at the venue in Camden, a small banquet and concert hall that could probably hold a crowd of around 200, your nerves caught up with you again. You hadn't seen any of them since your conversation at Marie's with Roger and your near run-in with John that same day. You were sure Freddie would be happy to see you, and Brian was a nice bloke, but after the strange conversation with John on the way home, you were still a little unsure about seeing him again.

When you entered the venue, you realized you were quite early, as the band still seemed to be running a sound check on the small stage at the front of the hall. You checked your watch, it was 7:56 and Roger had definitely told you to come at 8, you were sure of it. You started toward the stage when I tall man dressed in all black stopped you.

“I'm sorry, miss, but the venue doesn't open until 8:30, you'll have to wait outside, or come back later.”

“I-I'm sorry,” you said to the man, feeling totally out of your element now. “I was invited by the band, they told me to come at 8?” You didn't mean for it to sound like a question, but the man did not seem to notice as recognition flitted across his face.

“What's your name, miss?”

“Um, it's (Y/N).”

“Ah. Sorry about that, I forgot Rog had mentioned someone might be showing up early. Right this way. You can wait in the back for the goys to be done with sound check.”

Your mind was whirling with what the man had just said. The crew had been told you would be coming? And now you were being escorted backstage. You decided to just go along with it, excited to see your friends play another great show. The wait only lasted about 5 minutes before you heard bickering coming down the hallway.

“...am not playing it to fast, you were going so slow!”

“I was not, Roger, I played it exactly as it is on the record,” that soft voice had to be Brian's.

“Tell him, Fred. Tell him he was playing to slow! You always do this, like I've never-”

“Children, please! Let's wait until after the show to kill each other, hmmm?”

The door opened just then and Brian stumbled in, closely followed by Freddie, Roger, and John bringing up the rear.

“Oh, hello (Y/N), how are you?” Brian asked once he noticed they had company.

“Alright, you?”

“Alright, at least as well as can be with these idi-”

“(Y/N), darling, how are you?” Freddie interrupted whatever grumpy tirade Brian was about to embark on, rushing over to kiss both your cheeks.

“Doing fine, Freddie, thank you,” you answered him, before turning your attention to the other two in the room. John and Roger were both watching you quietly. This seemed perfectly in character for John, but Roger's silence concerned you somewhat. He blinked a few times, however, and seemed to snap out of it.

“You found the place, I see! Lovely to see you again!” Roger crossed the room to a chair piled with clothes you assumed were his and sat down.

John, however, hovered nervously by the door. You crossed the room and stood in front of him.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Hi to you,” you answered, catching his eye. “I saw you the other day, you know.”

“Me? Where?”

“Yes, you. Monday morning, you were boarding the bus. I called your name but then got lost in the crowd.”

He laughed. “So I was actually hearing that! I didn't imagine it!”

You laughed, too. “You didn't imagine it.” You just smiled at each other for a moment before he offered you a seat and a drink. You accepted, and John made for the small table set up as a mini-bar in the corner of the room. You took a seat on the unoccupied couch, removing your coat before doing so. You were so pre-occupied with straightening out your outfit and neatly folding up your coat to drape over the couch that you failed to notice what was happening around you.

John had glanced up just as you set your coat aside, catching your look for the evening in full view. He fumbled with the tumbler of gin he was holding, causing the alcohol to splash over and onto his sleeve. John cursed quietly, which caused Brian to look up. He then looked around for the source of John's distraction, and upon seeing you himself, actually did a double take.

On the other side of the room, Freddie was talking animatedly to Roger, who was ignoring him entirely. Instead, he had decided to stare openly at you from over Freddie's shoulder, and his mouth actually dropped open. He looked behind him to see what Roger was staring at, and in the process caught Brian's eye. The two of them gave each other a knowing smirk and went back to their own individual activities, leaving their rhythm section to pine like a couple of school boys.

Taglist:

@itsametaphorbriansblog​ @queendeakyy​ @reavenedges-lies​

[mcad-ae]

How to Practice Mindfulness, with Jes Roseberg

As MCAD students and faculty continue to navigate this difficult time, adjunct Product Design professor Jes Rosenberg’s yoga business is working to help parents and children stuck within their homes. The Adventure of Superstretch™ is a web page, app, and physical class that helps children learn yoga poses and physically engage with their own bodies. They teach that “Balance is a superpower!” and use many cartoon characters to demonstrate the various poses and methods to any age group and skill level. 

Superstretch Yoga™ is the top app for kid’s meditation, health, and wellness. Kids are able to learn alongside videos of other kids, animated characters, and music. The “adventure” is led by Superstretch, the super hero ready to teach any age the power of balance and stretching. Recently, Jes and Superstretch were featured in a Wall Street Journal article entitled “Family Going Stir Crazy? These Apps, Websites, and Games Could Help!” as an app to help parents in quarantine. 

Jes is an adjunct for product design courses at both the University of Minnesota and MCAD. She brings wellness and mindfulness into her curriculum at both institutions. In her current class at MCAD, Design Drawing, she works to integrate activities such as improvisational games and stretching exercises to unite the right and left brain and leave her students ready to learn. By teaching in this method, she emphasizes her belief in teaching her students how to think creatively and divergently, instead of just lecturing about technique. This prepares her students for life, instead of just giving the skills needed to pass the class. 

Due to her particular expertise, I asked Jes for her advice and thoughts on getting through the current global crisis. She responded-

“Navigating this new reality, our current life experience, is challenging. I’m feeling all my ‘feels’. Scattered, overwhelmed, afraid, uncertain, fried, goofy… There are lots of emotions happening and way too much computer time.  Plus, I’m eating a LOT of food from my fridge between all of the Zoom and Google Meetings. 

I love this B.K.S. Iyengar quote, “You do not need to seek freedom in a different land, for it exists with your own body, heart, mind, and soul.” This is so true! NOW is the time to tap into that freedom. 

In mindfulness practices (movement, breath work, meditation) I teach my students that through difficulties arise opportunities for evolution. We have a CHOICE when dealing with something unknown, something scary. So, one should be curious, walk up to the edge and take a step back, a couple of deep breaths to reflect and reframe your mindset and then you can determine what is the best course of action.

Mindfulness is a moment to moment awareness practice. Our mind is our biggest asset and we need to exercise and nurture it to be our best selves. Practice helps us to change our relationship to our thoughts which, at times, can be very cruel and negative. Paying attention is a muscle. All practice really is, is like taking a shower! It’s emotional hygiene that helps to integrate mind and body. You become intentional with your attention in your life and you can strengthen the circuitry to focus. It will make you calm, courageous and connected. 

I teach designers, just like in mindfulness practices, to be proactive vs. reactive in life situations. Design, like life, is fluid and ever-changing. I work to teach students to learn techniques to be innovative, resilient and thrive. To test and research all ideas because there is no bad idea as you are creating products for the future. 

Designers, and creativity, need to live in a no-judgement zone. To keep a beginner’s mind and see life with childlike wonderment is tough, not easy. It’s hard to open up to the freedom to be your best self. Yes, you need to be vulnerable. Yes, you need to practice every damn day because practice is progress and we don't always have good days. 

Life is organized chaos. This situation and time is very scary and frightening. It feels like we are living the full catastrophe. Give yourself space to listen. Be compassionate and empathetic to others but most importantly, to yourself. You can be resilient and thrive. Turn this obstacle into an opportunity.” -Jes Rosenberg

Jes also took the time to add some different techniques and activities to do throughout our time in quarantine. For other easy and fun activities, follow her instagram @superstretchyoga or @jes.rosenberg

Easy mindfulness practices to try in quarantine:

 o   Laugh and Smile Often. A smile is very powerful. And a deep belly laugh is like doing a sit up! Laughter creates a more positive state of being and can get you through a tough day. It also produces mirror neurons so when one-person similes the other person you are engaging with literally feels like smiling and leads to an optimistic attitude.

o   Breathe Deeply. Invoke the relaxation response by taking some deep breaths, exhaling thoroughly. It is so cathartic and will give you a “glow from within” vibe as it sends serotonin, the happy hormone, through your body. You could even repeat a soothing word every exhale like, “peace” or “calm”.

Our breath is the tool that makes our body fully functional. And the effects of breath, meditation and yoga on our body are incredible. When we harness the pure potential of our breath we come into alignment. We become grounded like a tree that is firmly rooted, healthy, nurtured and flexible. If we grow deep roots we can stand on our own two feet, bear fruit and flourish. Once we are settled, centered in our mind and body then our physical and emotional self can be its best. Aligned with purpose, meaning and value.

 o   Set a Positive Intention for the Day. Before getting up each morning and making the bed, plug-in to your heartfelt desire, paving the way to a positive attitude and outcome. 

o   Meditate. Meditation is the express ticket to happiness but the practice takes discipline. It should never be forced so if a seated meditation is not calling you yet, find something that puts you “in the zone” for optimal alignment. Normal activities like reading a book, listening to soothing music, cooking, painting, running, sitting and having coffee is a form of meditation. Even laying down for five minutes simply breathing; one hand on your heart, the other on your tummy feeling the rise and fall of the diaphragmatic breaths, is a meditation. (Just set a timer so that if you fall asleep, you can wake-up and still go on with your day!)

The practice just needs to be something that offers you moment-to-moment joyful awareness. Whatever you can do to feel time and space disappear and you can let thoughts come and go, and flow, without getting attached to them. 

MRI brain scan studies suggest that regular meditation reliably and profoundly alters the structure and function of the brain to improve the quality of both thought and feeling. Research also shows that mindfulness increases the capacity for empathy and social connectedness as well as positive emotions, such as love, joy, gratitude and contentment. 

o   Journal. Don't feel like writing? Start with a one-line-a-day gratitude book. Focus on one thing you are grateful for and write it down even on your phone or in an app. 

o   Do Nothing. Create a ‘do nothing’ sacred space in your house and just RELAX. Daydream for a half-hour with no guilt. Light a candle and breathe-in a relaxing scent. Lavender, cedar and pine are healing during busy times. 

o   Kindness. Treat people, and yourself, with compassion and kindness. Do small favors for people, expecting nothing in return. The best way one can uplift their own life is to uplift the lives of others.  

o   Give Yourself Credit. Make a list of your accomplishments. Feel Gratitude and Appreciation. Instead of a ‘To Do’ list make a ‘To Be’ list. You could even do a seven-day gratitude challenge with your family? 

o  Live Green. Take a nature walk and get some fresh air. Water a plant. Branch out and blossom. Recycle. Plant a tree. Find things that are sustainable and fulfilling. Cultivate new friendships. 

o   Reach Out. Texting and FaceBook messaging is great but try to call at least one family member or friend a day on the phone. Or write a letter snail-mail style!

o   Give. Zoom out and sense a whole new perspective. Spend a few minutes each day contemplating something greater than you. Reach out and support the community or a local non-profit with a helping hand, offer a hug, lend a listening ear, share time, learn about something new, read a “meditation a day” book, have lengthy discussions with people.

o   Digital Detox. Just 20 minutes away from a computer or smartphone restores your brain function and makes room for creativity. So, move around and shake off the old energy. Recharge your super human machine. Have a dance party. Draw a warm bath and dive in. Sing out loud. 

o   Chair Yoga. Reach, stretch, twist and even try a forward fold. Mindful movement and exercise rebalances the nervous system and allows you to de-stress and relax so that you can focus on the task at hand.

o   Respond Wisely. Be proactive vs. reactive when faced with challenging situations. Take a deep, thoughtful breath before you speak. 

o   Nourish Yourself. One is what they eat, so make healthy choices. Try to avoid processed foods. Can you avoid sugar for a whole week? 

o   Hydrate. Grab a glass and take a sip of water. Did you know that more than 1/2 of our body is made up of water? The water inside of us helps us to keep everything vital and functioning. It increases energy, relieves fatigue, flushes out toxins and boosts the immune system. Plus, it puts you in a good mood so drink up!

Please remember to care for yourself in this time of crisis.

[thequeenofcronuts]

Uncertainties - Tales of the Past Flashback 1

Tales of the Past Flashback 1 - Flashback to the group during Spring Term at USC

AU Summary - Career life is busy for a group of six friends when they meet a captivating woman with a beautiful soul. New friendships are forged and new romances revealed. All the while hearts are torn and closets are cleared of skeletons. True love always wins in the end, right?

AU Warnings - This Stand Alone will include the following 18+ subjects: Language, NS*W, Verbal Abuse, and Abortion. If ANY of these subjects will cause pain or hardship in reading, please skip reading Uncertainties. That being said, each chapter will include its own specific warnings.

AU Uncertainties Pairings and Characters: Drake x Riley /  Liam x Riley  /  Liam x Olivia  / Drake x Olivia / Maxwell x Savannah, including Hana, and Madeleine, and OCs

Tags @client-327 @dcbbw @carabeth @drakesensworld @purplegreyshrimp

Tales of the Past Flashback 1 Summary - Take a look back at memories the group share from their Spring Term, Freshman Year at the University of South California 

Tales of the Past Flashback 1 Warnings - NS*W, Language 18+. By reading this you consent that you are 18+

Chapter Word Count: 5,000 give or take

**All characters from the Choices Book: The Royal Romance are owned by Pixelberry Studios (Any other characters are the product of my brain…I probably should apologize now. 🙃😉)

Olivia and Liam are sitting out on the grass in the quad, soaking in the sunshine, while studying for their Spring midterms. Well, she's studying for her last exam while Liam is writing an essay. “I can't fucking believe for a History course your midterm is not an exam but writing an essay.” Liam gives her a wry smile. “Not my fault you chose to take Hell- manities, aka Humanities, this semester. You know that prof’s intention is to make as many of his students fail as he can.” Olivia scoffs. “My guess is the old man takes it out on us because he’s not getting any. His cringe worthiness is like a 20 out of 10, while his sexual attraction is so low it can't even be measured. Liam is lost in a sea of laughter while he falls backward onto the grass. “True enough, Olivia. From what I’ve heard from Drake he hates the prof as much as you do.” “Walker is a dumb ass, but for once he is correct in his description of the prof as the ‘Professor of Rapacious Evil’. I would feel sorry for the prof’s wife, but I don't have it in me. Her choice after all.” Liam looks up at the blue sky. “You know Olivia, we really can be big assholes.” “Meh,” Olivia shrugs, “It’s all apart of the college experience.”

It's quiet between them for awhile, campus life swirling around them, when finally Olivia clears her throat causing Liam to look up into her deep emerald eyes. “So Liam. I kinda need to tell you something and I’m not sure how you’ll react.” She takes a breath. “During the Midterm party at your guy’s frat house I slept with someone.” She looks trying to read his expression but gets nothing. After a moment Liam does a very tiny shrug. “Well I’m not saying I’m thrilled, but we have agreed not to be exclusive, and we’ve only been together since a few days before Thanksgiving Break. And come on, Olivia, it was a frat party after all.” Liam quirks a brow and chuckles, but she lowers her eyes. “Well, there's a bit more. The rest of the story is it was with Drake. I really fucked up Liam.” She pauses. “Ok, maybe that was the wrong phrase to use. Anyway Liam, how pissed are you?” Liam does swallow hard before answering, “Ok, so now I’m really beyond not thrilled at this point, but I know you two were…active most of last semester.” He looks back up the sky for a minute.

“Olivia, the six of us have only known each other since the beginning of the year, which obviously isn't that long, yet we all have become rather close quickly. We do spend all of our free time together. Hell, I think Maxwell and Savannah may actually be very serious already. If we were in a different stage in our relationship then this conversation is quite different. Right now you're not leading me on and Drake and I aren't in some backstabbing competition.” Liam leans up and gives her a sweet kiss on the cheek. She can finally look him in the eyes. “You know Liam, I’ve honestly come to hate him over these last couple months. He's an egotistical jerk who acts like it pains him to be around, I guess, anything.” 

She looks out over the quad with a frown on her face. “I can see your point,” Liam lays back on the ground again as he plucks a blade of grass turning it over in his fingers, “but as Maxwell and I are getting to know him more it seems that it might not be his ego so much that holds him back. There may be something else.” She gives him an over exaggerated sigh. “Well think what you want, I’ll just keep on hating him, a lot.” He laughs at her matter of fact tone. “What's so funny over there, Rys?” “Olivia, you find so much joy in pushing all of Drake's buttons. You really are a certain brand of evil when it comes to him, and if I wasn't getting to know you better, I’d be scared.” She flops down on the grass next to him and takes his hand, he chuckles as their eyes meet and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “"No matter, Liam, I blame what happened during party on alcohol. Lots, and lots of alcohol.”

A few days later Olivia and Liam are in the dining halll for lunch. “Olivia,” Liam said over the chatter of the dining hall. “The Humanities exam is only three days away. You're going to have to put your pride aside and ask him to help you study for this exam. Only you two, out of the six of us, are in Humanities this semester. It could be, ummmm, let me think a moment.” he shoots her a devilish grin. “It could be a very….cathartic experience for you and this certain Humanities classmate.” As he finishes her eyes spit daggers into his soul and she hisses, “You know, you’ve been finding way too much joy in toying with me about all this.” Liam cocks his head, “Well, my minx, can you blame me? You have to admit we both benefit immensely when you’re all riled up.” He wiggles his brows at her. “Fine. Yes it is hot and amazing when I’m riled up.” He kisses her with a growl while those around their table look up and stare. “It seems, Liam, we agree on our stance when it comes to PDA, but back to the matter at hand. It's not all about pride in needing help for the exam. Around our small group of friends he’s using innuendo as his ammo to push my buttons all the time now, and it sucks.” With her arms crossed, and jaw clenched she looks expectedly at Liam for his response. “Well Olivia, what can I say? Karma’s a bitch. Look, just study together and pass your exam, okay. You need your GPA this semester to be better than last, or my little minx won't still be on campus with me Sophomore year.” His kisses her on the cheek and spots Drake, he waves him over.

“Hey Drake, we were just talking about you. Come on over and sit with us.” Olivia kicks Liam hard under table as Drake looks at them both, shrugging, while turning his eyes to Olivia menacingly.  “Heh, sure, thanks. So what's up with you two on this fine afternoon?” Drake asks as he sits. Liam glances at Olivia out of the corner of his eye as he answers, “Oh not much. We’re just sitting hear eating lunch and talking about midterms, especially Olivia's Humanities exam.” She would have Liam incinerated into ash that very second, just by one look, if at all possible. “Thank god all I have left that Hell-manities exam.” Drake looks at the textbook next to him and winces.

“Yeah, Olivia was talking about needing a study partner for that one, thinking two classmates getting ready for the exam would help out both.” Her eyes bore into Liam while Drake gives him a smirk as he replies, “Why the hell not? It's going to be a bitch of an exam, so sharing notes sounds good. My night class tomorrow doesn't get out until after the library and Student Union close. We can study in the lounge of our frat house. Those sorority girls in your house can't ever stop squealing or squeeing or whatever the hell you all call it.” Drake takes a bite of his burger and Liam slaps him on his shoulder. “Sounds like you and Olivia have a plan. Well, we’re off. See you later Drake.” When Liam and Olivia reach her sorority house she grabs him by the arm yanking him to halt. “So help me Liam, if you weren't so sexy and good in bed I’d wrap my hands around your neck and choke you hard right here.” Liam chuckles. “Oh Olivia, promises, promises.

The next night she is sitting in the lounge of the guy’s frat house simmering heading quickly into full on fuming. All the pool tables are being used by drunken guys and girls, liquor flowing, and couples are making out everywhere. Included Maxwell and Savannah which causes Olivia to visibly cringe. Finally Drake shows up finishing off some fries. “You went on a stroll for food after class while I’ve been sitting here in an ocean of morons?!” “Hey, the body and brain need fuel. So, shall we?” “Fine,” she sighs. “Let's just get this over with as fast as possible.” “Well, well, Olivia,” he pauses for effect, “I’ve never heard you say that to me, ever.” He raises an eyebrow and smirks. ‘I so want to slap you right now’. She stands to leave when she remembers, ‘I have to pass this exam, it’s almost fifty percent of the entire semester grade. Fuck.’ “Walker, just shut the fuck up and study.” 

With that she takes a seat again while they pull out their notes. Not long after Olivia realizes that Drake is actually smarter than she had originally pegged him to be. Definitely takes better, more detailed notes. ‘Shit, I really am going to need his damn notes and explanations for this exam.’ After about a half an hour later they can't even hear each other thanks to the college night life buzzing around them.  So Drake nods to upstairs with Olivia shaking her head vehemently. ‘But…Shit, I really need to pass this course. My GPA has to be better to stay in the Sorority House next year. Fuck.’ They reach Drake's room. “Door.stays.open. Walker.” Drake throws his hands up in surrender. “That was my plan.”

Studying for about forty-minutes the antics out in the hall are just as bad as they are downstairs. Drake gets up to shut the door but before he latches it closed he turns to her, “Would you rather leave?” ‘I so hate myself right now.’ “No. I’ve noticed how shit my notes are.” He shuts the door and she eyes his every move suspiciously. “For gods sake I’m not a jackoff. I never have nor ever will take advantage or force something on anyone. You even told me you remember your ‘yes’ this past party.” Drake says wholeheartedly meaning it all,  and she knows it's true. He wouldn't ever. “I know it, Drake.” But he does decide, however, to use this time to pay her back for the comment she made about him yesterday loudly in the crowded Student Union. “You just forgot I know how act appropriately with ladies because you never, ever told me ‘no’. You only screamed ‘yes’.” Her jaw clamped. “Is it not true, Miss?” ‘Oh I hate him.’ “That was low. I really do hate you Drake Walker. Actually I hate you even more.” “Guess that answers my question.” ‘After what she had said yesterday and the look on her face right now, yep. Worth it.’

She takes a few minutes to string together sentences of all curse words she can think up directing them at him, then sits back down. ‘Oh so totally worth it. Epic win. Put one the scoreboard board far Drake Walker.’ It takes her a bit, but she finally listens as he describes various art techniques and their major time periods. ‘How does remember all this?!’ “When in the nine hells did you actually get smart, Walker?” It has to be some sort of accident. Did you get your head pounded by another frat guy and it resulted in this miracle?!” Seething, “I’m not just a dumb piece of shit, you know Olivia!” ‘Hmmm, his intelligence, that was a fun button to push. I’ll remember that one.’ “Oh just shut up Olivia. Let's finish the art section and skip the western culture section. Then you can show yourself out.” “Fine.” She yelled. “Fine.” He yelled back. And before either knew it their lips were crashing together with Olivia’s hands grasping his shaggy brown hair. Like so many times before he slid her onto his lap first, as their tongues danced, his hands sliding up her thighs landing on her waist. And like every time before he stopped to asked her. And like every time before she answered with a yes.

He trails kisses from her shoulder blade, up her neck, across her jaw and their lips met again. She runs her tongue along his bottom lip, and as he opens his mouth his hands started to wander under her shirt moving up her stomach going up to… and then she goes tense and completely froze. Drake immediately stops looking at her for an answer. ‘I will not be some girl flitting between men. Especially when I actually care about a really good man. Done. Over.’ “No more. Not tonight, not ever Walker. I’m done. So many months wasted on you. Those months were all about living the freedom of college in my first semester. But that's it. That's all it was and ever will be, nothing.” Olivia gets up and gathers her things. ‘Fuck. Ouch Olivia. That was all it was? Damn.’ “Whatever Olivia. Whatever makes yourself feel better. Funny how it meant nothing, oh how many months later!” Drake is yelling while Olivia walks to the door. With her hand on the door nob she looks back. “What the hell has been wrong with me all these months.” ‘Oh no, you don't get walk out the door with that being the last words.’ Drake shrugs. “Great sex is great sex, friends with benefits?” They both look at each other for a long time, having an unspoken escalating argument. Finally Drake spits out, “See you Friday night when the group celebrates the end of midterms.” Olivia rubs her temples and answers in complete frustration. “Yes. See you then. We both care about all of our friends, Drake.” ‘Unfortunately, Walker, you have to be there.’ One last glare at each other. “But you and I, Drake, we will never be friends.” ‘Couldn't agree more.’ “Neither one of us would want to. Now get out of my room.” Olivia stomps out and slams the door.

As soon as she's out of Drake's room she heads down the hall to Liam's and pounds on the door. He opens it and she shoves him hard back into the room. He can't help but laugh at the look on her face. “I take it the study session went well?” Not saying a word she drops her things to the floor and slams the door shut. Liam quirks an eyebrow and before he can move she pushes him down on the bed crawling on top of him, straddling him as she immediately starts to unbutton his shirt tugging on it until she unfastens the last button. Liam sits up to shrug it off while Olivia grabs the hem of his undershirt pulling it off before he's even gotten the first shirt off. She pushes him back down, while he starts to speak, “Trust me, I’m not complaining but wh-“ Her lips are on his before he can finish. Her nails dig into his shoulders while his tongue runs over her bottom lip. She invites him in, soon tongues wrestling for dominance. Liam grabs her ass squeezing hard enough she yelps into his mouth. He loves that. His hands travel slowly up her hips, up her stomach and cup her breast while she begins to grind her hips on his. She pulls herself back up and throws her shirt to ground while he unfastens her bra which hits the ground as well.

Liam lavishes one breast nibbling and sucking on its bud until it's a hard peak, while he massages and twists the other. A moan rolls off her lips and he takes it as a sign to move to her other breast. Her taste drives him to wanting so.much.more. In an instant Liam is making quick work of the button and zipper of her jeans, sliding a hand down her pants rubbing her folds trough her panties. “You are so fucking wet for me.” Her eyes meet his as she responds in authoritative tone, “Up now. Time to get these pants off.” They stand and he slides her jeans and panties down while she uses his shoulder for balance kicking them off. She unbuttons and unzips his jeans then stands back, watching him pull them and his boxer briefs off.

Liam’s eyes rake her up and down, “Damn you're sexy. I can never get tired of seeing you like this.” Olivia just gives him a wicked grin as she slowly drops to her knees in front of him placing her hand around his hardened length, stroking it a few times before taking him into her mouth. “Shit.” Liam's head falls back as her tongue circles around his tip tasting the little bit that's already escaped him. He grabs a hold of her hair as her lips firmly surround him while moving him in and out. She lets out a deep moan against him as she moves. “Fuck, babe!” Liam begins to buck his hips while she takes him in fully. He feels himself hitting the back of her throat, while in his mind cursing and thanking at the time. ‘Not going to make it much longer if she doesn't stop this.’ He looks down and barely gets out with a husky voice. “Olivia, I,” he moans “You have to stop.” She looks up at him trough hooded eyes and he knows she isn't planning on stopping.

He gently starts pulling her back. She sighs against him one last time and lets go with a pop. “Liam, if you're stopping me from this you better do one hell of a job.” He whispers back, “I accept your challenge.” He grabs a condom while Olivia makes the decision to rest on her knees with her elbows down on the mattress. Liam turns and lets out a primal growl as his tongue meets her folds. Her breath hitches as he licks up to her nub while pushing a finger into her dripping wetness. He nibbles the sensitive spot with gentle pressure and circles it with his tongue. He slides in a second finger and moves them both back and forth. “Shit Liam, more! Now!” He sucks her harder as his slides in the third finger curling them just right reaching that spot which makes her knees weak. She arches her back and pushes herself into him. “Fuck! I’m…C…“ She yells his name and it's the best sound in his life. He gives her a moment while rubbing soft circles on her back. “Enjoy, a breath for a minute baby. We’re not finished.”

Waiting he licks and sucks his fingers clean as he strokes himself a few times before grabbing her hips sliding in his solid length. He waits a second as they adjust saying each other's name then he immediately starts with a hard thrust. He hears her throaty voice, “My, my. Impatient aren't we?” That’s all it takes for him to grab her hips firmly and thrust harder rocking back and forth as she moans his name over and over. They hit their rhythm and she pants “Harder Liam! Give me hard now! I need more of you!” ‘Shit, I’m barely hanging on as it is.’ Their skin slaps together as he reaches one hand around to wet his finger drawing tantalizing circles around her nub as he continues to thrust harder and harder. “Fuck Liam! Just…a…little…more...I’m, I’m-“ he begins to feel her grip around him start to tighten. “Liam, oh fuck. YES!” He sloppily thrusts twice more while she completely unravels. He stops holding himself back finding his own release. He smirks proudly as Olivia screams his name once more while they both ride out their waves of passion.

Soon they are falling onto the bed. Olivia grabs him close and lays her head on his chest as they work to slower their breaths while laying in their euphoria. “So, did I do one hell of a job? Enough to win your challenge?” Liam chuckles kissing the top of her head. “My god yes! I’ll happily lose that challenge to mind blowing sex any day. But, I don't lose other challenges.” He laughs as she kisses his chest and begins mindlessly running circles around his strong abs, while he looks at the ceiling twirling a piece of her long vibrant red hair around his fingers. Suddenly Olivia remembers the words she heard earlier “…Great sex is great sex. Friends with benefits?…” She raises to an elbow looking deep into Liam’s crystal sea blue eyes. “You know Liam, mind blowing is far superior to great.” He looks at her completely confused. “Just trust me here, babe. Mind blowing is so fucking superior to just great.” She smirks as she lays back down again resting her head on his chest. “Liam” she says into his chest with a kiss. “Yes babe?” “I think we should start seeing each other exclusively.” A few seconds later he kisses the top of her head and she can feel his smile. “Mmmmm, I like this decision of yours. A lot.”

A few weeks later after Spring Break, Maxwell, Olivia, and Drake are sitting in the Student Union waiting for Hana, Savannah, and Liam to show for their night out to celebrate the group’s reunion. While hanging out there Maxwell tilts his head to Olivia and wiggles his eyebrows, “I hear you and Liam are officially exclusive. Awesomeness!!! Now you guys can double with me and Savannah!” Olivia rolls eyes and flatly responds, “Oh, yay.” Maxwell smiles, “I know, right? It will be epic!” Drake sits back somewhat amused by the interaction. “Yeah, you four should start planning your first double date tonight.” Then he mumbles something about someone under his breath as quietly as he can, but Olivia notices. “Why Drake, are you jealous?” He is completely unfazed knowing she's just trying to push his buttons. Maxwell, on the other hand, grins from ear to ear. “Oh trust me Olivia, and let me assure you, he is most certainly not jealous. If Drake was actually under any kind of spell of your’s it's been bro-“ Drake snaps at him, “Beaumont! Why the hell are we celebrating tonight being back here for just more classes? Only you would think of something so ridiculous.” Maxwell looks over shaking his head, “This is about the six of us being back together after spring break, man. We gotta catch up.” Drake tilts his head backwards and shuts his eyes. “It was only a little over a week for gods sake.”

Olivia catches the extra sour tone in Drake’s voice. “I didn't know you could get any grumpier, Walker. What exactly is your extra problem? Are you going to continue to be such an ass all night? Staying away while radiating your extra bit of chilly venom.” Drake doesn't answer, but yet again Maxwell does. “He’s just pissed on an missed opportunity. Possibly a chance of a lifetime.” Maxwell is so focused on Olivia he doesn't register the rising anger on Drake’s face. “Ok, Olivia, so check this out. So you know how Drake stayed here over break and I got back a little earlier than the rest of you? We were in one of campus books stores, you know this campus has way too many all over the-,” “Focus Maxwell, and get this Walker story over with as fast as possible.” Olivia crosses her arms. ‘Ok, focusing and speed talking initiated. So me and Drake we’re chilling out in the book store when I see my old pal here intently staring off to something a few aisles over. I follow his line of sight and saw what he was checking out. His eyes were completely locked on this girl. I mean not blinking, breath hitching sort of thing. Anyway, while we all know that I have the lady love of my life, I’ll admit she was quite stunning. Long raven black hair, porcelain white skin, and these really deep piercing blue eyes. Drake's feet were glued to the floor when she moved to us and starts to look at the books next to him. I of course step out of the way, but not Drake here, he still can't move. So he’s standing like crazy still as she looks up to him to say excuse me or probably something like that, except she stops and stares at him. Complete radio silence. Eventually, I clear my throat and they snap out of their trance while I smoothly walk away, as you know how I do. So I buy my stuff and head outside to wait for Drake. While waiting I see the girl walkout with this huge smile and this dreamy look in those piercing blues. Suddenly, though, she stops in her tracks looking back to the store bewildered. I thought maybe she just forgot something, and I didn't even really think much about it as she leaves. She's gone when Drake walks out and I see he has nothing in his hands, totally forgotten to get what he needed to buy. Except Drake had a gigantic smile on his face. For real, Olivia, I had no idea a shit-eating grin was possible for our guy here. I figure he at least he found something in there, even if he forgot what he needed to buy.” Maxwell winks, “So I asked him to spill. And get this Olivia, come to find out he was so lost in her beauty he totally choked, like in the worst way. No name, no phone number, no dorm or sorority information. He was so lost in loveydovey-land all functioning abilities went out of his mind. He’s been extra grumpy, brooding, and not going anywhere or talking anyone since. He’s got it bad for her, but we have no idea who she is. But he did tell me that they’d talked the whole time after I left, feeling like there was mutual interest, and from what I saw when she walked out that store I’d completely agree. I’m a believer in love at first sight, enter my lady love into the story again, but if this girl had just stood there like a minute longer or if he had walked out a minute sooner, bam. He’d have a different story to tell right now.”

Drake was sitting with arms crossed, jaw clenched, and his lips pressed in a hard thin line. Finally he spoke, “You know I’ve actually been sitting here the whole time Maxwell. And furthermore, Beaumont, do you ever take a breath when talking, or even better yet, do you ever shut the fuck up?!” Olivia looks at Drake shaking her head. “Way to go dipshit. Try to find her again on a campus with around 20,000 undergrads, and that doesn't account for the number of graduate students either. Good luck with what sounds like the screwup of lifetime. She's the one that got away before you were close enough for her to get away.” Maxwell cuts in with, “Well, with what I saw, I’d venture to say he stared long enough he could definitely pick her out of a lineup, or better yet work with one of those sketch artist for a ‘Have you seen this girl?’ poster.” Olivia can't stop herself, doubled over in wild laughter, while Drake stands up with a force so intense the big bulky armchair he was sitting in moved a bit across the floor. Then shoving his hands in his pockets he picks a wall to sulk against.

Finally Liam, Savannah, and Hana show up; along with another girl. Hugs and kisses were given all around, except for Drake. They all felt an aura of something between rage, frustration, and “leave me the hell alone” radiating strongly off him. Hana introduced everyone to Allison, who she was set up with for a blind date over break. With everyone finally there Maxwell directs the group onward to his club of choice, and once there the couples hit the dance floor as Drake finds a table in a corner for the night. He never was one that went out of his way to dance, but he definitely would with any girl that caught is eye. Uncharacteristically, though, this night he wasn't looking for any random girls to dancing with, and he wasn't there too long before he let his friends know he was heading back to campus calling it a night. Which of course Olivia took advantage of and starting to call him “grandpa” at every chance she got everyday afte

A few months later, Spring Term is finished, bringing the group the end of their Freshman year. They all decide to stay on campus together for the Summer Semester to have a stellar time doing everything college kids can think up to do. And damn did they make the most of their freedom. Liam and Olivia had taken a short trip right after exams were over, but back in a few days. Maxwell and Savannah basically lived together most of the summer, while Liam and Olivia out right lived with each other. Hana and Allison were adorable together and Alli fit in with the group extremely well. Most surprising to everyone though was that Liam and Olivia actually enjoyed spending time with Maxwell and Savannah. Savannah was so much fun and just lovely, but if Maxwell were to survive the summer, Olivia could only take meeting up with them in small doses.

Drake, however, chose to take a course over the summer which everyone else thought was crazy, but it kept him busy. With his course work he wasn't around the group as much, but he did join them for their antics when he could. They all noticed, though, that he hadn't gotten out of that funk he’d been in since spring break; but honestly he had always been the curmudgeon of the group.

And like that, Sophomore Year found them.

[puellafatua]

College advice for people like me

So I've seen a lot of posts floating around with advice for college freshmen, and while those are great there's still definitely things I wish I'd known going in that I haven't seen mentioned. So, without further ado, here's my college advice- the Type B personality edition. 

 1. More than anything, I want to emphasize that just because you're staying up late and working for hours and stressing out DOES NOT EQUAL being an amazing student. If you're not sleeping well and dividing your time up well, you're not gonna be capable of your best work. So my advice is to work smarter, not harder. Join study groups, go to office hours, go to tutoring or the writing center. Dont make your own flashcards if you don't have to- most of the time, someone who's taken the class before will have study sets on quizlet you can use, and that saves so much time and stress. Just be nice and make sure to make your own study sets public when you make them, it's a fair trade. You can also usually find YouTube videos from experts summarizing issues that you're uncertain about. Some of this seems obvious, but it'll all save you time. 

 2. This kind of fits in with the first point, but go to class and take hand written notes. You can type them up later if your handwriting isnt great, but you'll remember things you write down better. You're also less likely to get distracted during the lecture. Also, check to see if your professor posts the lectures. If they do, you can print them before class and take notes on anything they say that wasn't in the slides. 

 3. Have a buddy in every class. We all miss sometimes, and its easier to catch up if someone is willing to send you their notes. Also friends are a good thing to have. 

 4. If you like to procrastinate, write the wrong due date in your planner. This has saved my life and also my GPA. When you go to turn in the project or paper and discover you have extra time, it's like a little gift to yourself. Use it to edit, or to relax or stress cry. Really, just do with it what you want 

 5. Don't nap. Unless you work nights, then definitely nap. But napping will seriously screw with your sleep schedule, and you'll lose valuable daylight hours. I promise you, you'll do better work at 3 pm than at 3 am. 

 6. Stop doing homework an hour before you go to bed. There's a long psychological/neurological explanation for why you should do this, but the basic idea is that your brain will process and store what you've studied better if you give it time before you go to sleep. I personally never study after 11 pm, and I have a 3.7 so that's gotta count for something. 

 7. Don’t do what I just did. No one wants to hear you brag about your GPA. College is hard and everyone's already competitive enough as it is. 

 8. If you have breaks between classes, don’t go home. "I'll just have a snack between classes," you say. "I'll just take a quick nap, or I can study at my desk." Listen. That is the devil talking. Pack a snack, drink some coffee, and spend your breaks at the library. You'll thank me when you don’t have to do all that work at 2 a.m. 

 9. Get an accordion folder and a five subject notebook. You'll thank me when you never have to worry about bringing the wrong stuff to class. Your back will thank me when the weight of your backpack doesn’t cause you to need physical therapy (you think I'm exaggerating, but I literally needed PT for this reason). 

 10. Exercise. I'm begging you. Your brain is so much happier and more functional when you do. I'm not saying you have to become a gym rat. Stretch before bed, take a walk around the library when your brain is fried, take the stairs instead of an elevator. Getting an actual workout in is better, but it's not realistic for everybody. Just don’t get sedentary. Your brain and your body will thank me later. 

 11. Eating healthy sucks. Pizza is better than salad and You Can't Change My Mind. So trick yourself into eating healthy. Green smoothies taste amazing; green tea has caffeine and is good for your metabolism; some protein shakes don’t taste like ass (I drink a lot of them so message me if you want suggestions); stir fry is heaven; there are many companies that now make vegetable "chips" that are not processed and have all the same value of actual veggies without the effort of making veggies. I'm a mindless snacker who just wants to sweet release of biting something crunchy and salty so these are a godsend. 

 12. Don't cheat on people. Don't date people just so you don’t have to be single. Don’t get into "things." Treat other people right, and make sure they're treating you right too. My friends are all in difficult majors but the number one cause of stress in most of their lives is shitty relationship decisions. Don’t do that. Be smart. Make me proud, son. 

 13. Schedule time for yourself. Honest to God, write it in your planner. "Saturday from 10 to noon I will sit in my pajamas and drink hot chocolate and watch netflix and no one is permitted to talk to me." Don’t waste a whole day on stuff like that, but in college you're with your friends constantly (especially roommates) and even the most extroverted person on earth needs alone time. Make it happen. 

14. Unfollow and block to your heart's content. You are not obligated to give social media validation to people who make you unhappy or uncomfortable. It ain't that deep. 

 15. You're already paying for the counseling center through your tuition. You might as well go. 

 16. Dont live with your best friend, I guarantee you they're a bad roommate. I've been there. I've been her. We are all worse in the comfort of our own rooms than we are the rest of the time. 

 17. Condoms please and thanks. No unwrapped d**k is worth your health, and if you get pregnant in college the desks are very small and difficult to fit a belly into. And who wants to get an abortion when you can just avoid the whole mess all together. Safe sex babes. 

 18. Weed isnt that great and neither is alcohol. But both pale in comparison to how incredibly lame and pointless vaping is. Dont do it kids. Not even once. 

 19. Join a club or befriend your coworkers. Sometimes you need a get away from your main group of friends, and you can never have too many friends. 

 20. If you talk too much in class, then on behalf of your classmates, please reconsider your choices. Especially in psychology classes. We know when you're trying to diagnose yourself, even if you think you're being subtle. Go to the counseling center if need be, there's professionals there. 

 This is not at all a comprehensive list, and it may not be valuable to everyone. But I'm more than halfway done with college and based on my experiences and those of my friends, I think this is absolutely vital information for some people.

[steves-legs]

Hard Feelings - I Like You [01/?] (Tony Stark x Reader)

Masterlist | Requests

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | -

Series Summary: You’re well acquainted with the way love can sting. You know; you’ve been in love before, you were certain. But never quite like this, never anything near being on the arm of Tony Stark.

Chapter Summary: You and Tony had grown up together. He, though three years older than you, always had your back. He guided you through the halls of each new school before he moved onto the next chapter of his life. MIT was no different, but add being away from home and loose-lipped Rhodey? Fun ensues.

A/N: in this, tony begins attending college at 18 instead of 15 for obvious reasons. boy’s a lil psycho & im tryna make this all at least slightly legal So -- Tony is 23 and Reader is 19-20! ALSO: Tony doesn’t lose his parents when he’s 21, it’s later

Warning(s): underage drinking, swearing, hella tony stark fluff

...

“See, no, you can’t use that coding combination for this type of A.I. You have to move this...” —you push past the raven-haired boy and slide your finger across the sleek screen without warning. You can hear his breath catch in his throat— “over here. Otherwise, you’re gonna get a total dunce cap-level situation.” He looks to you in awe.

“Wow... I didn’t think that’d wor-- You know what? I know better than to doubt you. God, what would I do without you?” he sighs good-naturedly, spinning around in his chair to face you. You take a few steps forward and wrap your arm around his neck, plopping down into his lap and push his hair back a little.

“Probably die.” you tease. Tony nods in thoughtful agreement, nuzzling and laying his head on your shoulder. You give his shoulder a squeeze, resting your chin on the side of his head.

You honestly can’t remember a time before this: before being at school with Tony. You know life isn’t as beautiful when you aren’t at MIT together, away from Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Both of your families came straight out of Long Island, your mothers very close in their youth. You and Tony, being only three years apart, had grown together. You’d both lived through your most shaping, life-changing experiences. You know each other in and out. He was the first boy to ever kick someone’s ass all for you, the first boy to hold your hand, the first boy you argued with... it was undeniable that he was your first love.

He’d protected you through your first two years of high school before heading off to MIT, and the same happened when you followed in his footsteps in choosing a college. He liked to tease you about it, saying that it was because you were in “loooooooove” with him. Little did he know, he probably was at least 76% right. And now here you are, halfway through your sophomore year (Tony in his final year at MIT) and fifty-two conesecutive hours into a project for a class you both decided to take.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Tony asks, cutting into your internal monologue.

“Yes. I know this. I’ve been told. Many-a-time. How’re the ‘rents?” you ask aloud, more to yourself than to Tony, looking around. “Haven’t seen Howard in a bit... Or the missus. Why hasn’t she come to visit us? Our genius isn’t contagious, is it...?”

“No, genius obviously isn’t contagious, Y/N... Look at us: you spend so much time with me and you’re not gettin’ any smarter” —you slapped him on the arm here— “Alright, I’m sorry. He’s been on a trip. Mom’s with him. Why? You missin’ daddy?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You smile mischievously at him.

“Maybe. Do I sense... jealousy?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely.

“Nah, that’s just your lady-boner.” he snickers, tickling your underarms. You squeal, getting to your feet and pushing him away.

“Tony!” you shriek, spinning him around in his chair. You shove the back of his seat and he soars across the room, arms out in front of him.

“Whoa, Y/N! Full speed ahead!” he bellows excitedly.

“Heeeeeeeee’s....... outta here!” you exclaim as he slams into one of the other desks.

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Is he alright?” you spin around at the sound of the laboratory door slamming shut. None other than James Rhodes stands, slack-jawed, with bags of Chinese takeout and a six-pack in his arms. You put your hands firmly on your hips, taking a deep breath as you glance over your shoulder at Tony, who gives you a thumbs-up as he separates himself from the desk.

“I’m sure he’s gonna be fine,” you sigh, turning your attention to the Chinese. “But whatcha got there, James?” you smile. In your peripherals, you see Tony roll up in his swivel-chair right beside you.

“Yeah, what’s that? Also, where’s your visitor’s pass?” Tony demands in an accusatory tone.

“I don’t need a goddamned pass. I’m here almost every day,” Rhodey sneers, setting the bags down. “It’s Chinese food. Picked it up on the way over.”

“From where? New Dragon or Orange Panda? Because I’m pretty sure New Dragon one-hundred percent doesn’t care about the environment or their customers. They don’t recycle, they leave trash in the alley, they have so much MSG in their foods--” Tony smacks your thigh with the back of his hand, leaning back in his chair. “Thanks.” It had been brought to your attention that you tended to rant and rave for hours when you were sleep-deprived. It was a tell-tale sign that you needed to sleep and soon.

“No problem,” Tony sighs, straightening out.

“...Don’t worry, we’ve heard this one before. It’s Orange Panda,”

“Alright, lovebirds. How long have you two been holed up in here?”

“52 hours and counting!” you exclaim, taking a seat across from Rhodey. Tony rolls his chair up to the empty spot next to you.

“Jeez, I shoulda picked up coffee too,” Rhodes sighs, unpacking the Chinese.

“Are we gonna act like he didn’t just call us lovebirds?” Tony asks, turning to look at you.

“I was gonna... but sure, we could address the elephant in the room,” you say, serving yourself some chow mein. Rhodey shakes his head with a mouthful of chicken fried rice.

“You two are totally in love,” he says, smiling. Tony narrows his eyes, pursing his lips together. He looks almost... mad. 

“You got an explanation to back up that contrived belief of yours?” he asks, pointing his fork at James.

“I have a theory, yes,” Rhodey says, setting his own plasticware down. You and Tony share a look, giggling before you turn back to Rhodey and try to keep a straight face. Tony’s cheeks are red as a fire hydrant. “So you two spend more time together than any two people I’ve ever met. Yet you guys never seem to get sick of each other, right?” --he pauses and looks between the two of you, waiting for you both to nod in agreement. He waits until you finally do to continue-- “You two grew up together. That’s, like, totally grounds for you two to be madly in love with each other. You’ve been around each other forever. Tony’s used to your pheromone levels, Y/N, and you’re used to his testosterone levels. It’s science.” he says, dusting off his hands.

“Is it, though?” you ask in a retrospective tone.

“Also, Tony‘s got a massive crush on you,” James says nonchalantly. You feel your entire body jolt. You turn to look at Tony, who had, at some point, resorted to glowering furiously at Rhodey.

“Rhodes, I swear... to God,” he snarls, getting to his feet. He looks at you, then at Tony nervously.

“Sorry... you weren’t gonna ever tell her, though, you massive wimp!” he shouts. Tony launches himself forward, Rhodey leaping out of the way just in time to escape Tony’s grip.

“Y/N, help me!” he pleads. You watch as Tony catches Rhodey in a noogie. You stab one of the potstickers on your plate with your fork.

“Plead your case to the jury!” you exclaim, pointing your makeshift gavel at Rhodey.

“I’m an innocent! I’ve been wrongly accused! It is, in fact, Mr. Stark to blame! Tony’s the one at fault here for n--”

“Whaddya say, judge, should we let him have it?” Tony shouts over Rhodey. He gives you a pleading look and, despite your every want for Rhodey to explain himself, you couldn’t bear Tony’s utter humiliation if he ever had to have Rhodey tell a girl how he felt.

“Overruled,” you decree, banging the potsticker against your plate.

...

“See you ladies tomorrow evening, when you wake up from your hibernation,” Rhodey calls from by the door. He has a box of leftovers in his hand.

“Thanks for the beers, James!” you call, taking a swig from Tony’s engraved flask as you spin around in your chair at your desk. You toss it across the room and he catches it with ease. You turned your attention back to your own bottle of beer, holding it up for a toast.

“Yes, thank you, sweetheart,” Tony calls, holding his beer up as well. Rhodey looks back, feigning annoyance.

“See ya later, lovebirds,” he grins, saluting the two of you.

“Bye, baby!” Tony calls. Rhodey slams the door behind him in place of a response. You laugh out loud, crossing your arms as you lean back in your seat. You give Tony a look.

“Was Rhodey telling the truth?” you ask. Tony glances up from his work scattered out on the desk before him. He looks into your eyes with the same false sense of confidence you’d seen him practice his whole life. He 

“What if he was?” he asks, folding his hands in his lap and leaning forward.

“I... I’m not sure. Depends on what it is you want from me, Mr. Stark.” you say, smiling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. It makes your heart race.

“C’mere,” he says softly, sweetly. You hesitate for a moment but, ultimately, get to your feet and glide over to Tony. He puts his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Yes, sir?” you said. He rests his forehead on your stomach.

“You smell nice.”

“Creep.” you tease, resting your hands on his face. You pull him up to look at you. He gives you one of those smiles you remember from your freshman year when you two first became close. You straddle him, smiling a little because your lips are only a mere inches away from each other.

“You gonna do somethin’ or should I call brain death?” he asks. You lean back, slapping his chest. You laugh a little. and he chuckles along, his laugh radiating through your entire body as you rest your hands on his shoulders.

“I’m nervous, Tony!” you blurt out. You feel your cheeks heat up. You begin stammering out some sort of excuse, something to fill the silence.

“Hey.” he cuts you off, placing a hand on your cheek. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip. “Me too,” he admits, looking a little defeated.

“The big, tough-guy Tony Stark is nervous?” you tease.

“I’m 5’9.”

“The... average...-sized, tough-guy Tony Stark... is nervous?” you correct yourself, giggling at Tony’s overly-exaggerated shock.

“It’s a natural response when there’s a beautiful, smart, confident girl on your lap,” he replies, trying his best to sound casual.

“Oh, so you’re like this with all the girls?” you grin.

“Only the ones my mom wants me to marry,” he answers.

“Oh, so you two talk about me?”

“Sometimes...” he says breathlessly. “Can’t get into it, though. Top-secret Stark family affairs.”

“I’m involved in the Stark family affairs?” you ask, tittering at how Tony’s eyes widen.

“I-I... Fuck, okay, you know what? You sitting on my lap’s got me all sorts of fucked up.” Tony sighs. You run a hand through his hair and it brings a smile to his face.

“Well, I know your mom wants you to marry me. My mom told me, in the form of a warning, because she hates your guts,” you say softly.

“I know, I know. But how do you feel about me?” he asks, cutting right to the chase.

“I... I like you,” you smile. “A lot. I love you, too, because you’re my best friend... But I like you.”

Tony beams back, pulling you closer to him.

“I like you, too.”

“Great. Now shush, I kinda wanna make out with you... Finally,” you say, going in for the kill. But Tony moves to the side, making you huff audibly.

“Oooh, finally?” he jeers knowingly.

“Yes, finally. It’s taken too long for this,” you deadpan. Tony chuckles gently, squeezing your thighs gently and running his hands up your back. He slides his hands under your ass, startling you at the intensity of the very light touches.

“I’ve never agreed more,” Tony responds, picking you up off of his lap and setting you down onto the desk behind you.

“It’s nice to agree on something.” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a rough, needy kiss. 

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 20: Back to School

Masterlist

Lucy was kept very busy in the following weeks, preparing for the new school year. She and Henry texted several times a day, but the six hour time difference made phone calls difficult to plan, especially with Henry’s demanding shooting schedule. But they made it work as best they could. Usually Henry was just waking up when Lucy was just getting ready to go to sleep.

The morning of the first day of school, Lucy awoke to a text from Henry. “Knock ‘em dead today. I love you” It brought a smile to her face. Once she was ready for the day, she sent him a picture of herself in her “teacher clothes”, a maxi skirt with a tank top and cardigan over it, with with the caption “Still think I’m sexy?” Knowing her long skirt and modest top were about as far from sexy as she could get.

The day passed like any other first day; the kids asking about her trip that summer, her asking them about their summers, greeting new students, and reviewing the syllabus with her classes. In her second year class one boy raised his hand “Hey, Ms. C. Are you still offering an A for the year if we can get Tom Hiddleston to come take you out to dinner?” The student asked, bringing up a joke she had made the previous year.

“Lo siento, Santiago, not this year. You’ll have to do the work if you want the A.” Lucy laughed, making a mental note to tell Henry about it.

“Que lastima.” He said while the other students laughed.

When lunch hour rolled around, Lucy went to the office to check her mailbox, and was stopped by one of the secretaries on her way through. “There’s a delivery for you. It’s in the lounge.”

“Thanks Gretchen.” Curious, Lucy went to the lounge to find a huge arrangement of close to three dozen tulips in a myriad of shades of pinks and purples in a vase, with pencils sticking out of the arrangement. She smiled at the whimsical bouquet. There was a card slipped into a holder toward the back of the vase. “Pumpkin, have a great first day of school. Love Darcy.” She laughed at his use of their nicknames; she had officially become Pumpkin Lucy today.

“That’s a beautiful bouquet. Who are they from?” Anne-Marie, Lucy’s former teacher and best friend in the school, asked.

“From the guy I met in London this summer.” Lucy gave a small half smile.

“You met a guy? In London? And this is the first I’m hearing about him? Tell me more!”

“I don’t have time to tell you the whole sordid tale right now, but meet me for coffee after last period, We’ll talk then.”

“He must be pretty special to put that look on your face. Those flowers are gorgeous, and that’s a fun little touch of adding the pencils.”

“I know.” Lucy replied dreamily, staring at the flowers. “I’ve got to go, but here’s a picture of us.” Lucy said pulling out her phone with the picture of herself and Henry in front of Big Ben.

“Wow, that’s a very good looking guy you’ve got there. What’s he do?”

“I’ll tell you all at coffee. I gotta go, they’re playing my song” Lucy responded when the bell rang signaling the end of lunch period. She carried her flowers to her classroom. How did he know her tulips were her favorite flower? She was almost certain she hadn’t mentioned it. She would find out though. Lucy took a picture of the arrangement and sent it to Henry with the message “Thank you! They’re beautiful! How did you know I love tulips?”

She was surprised to hear her phone buzz just a few moments later.

“I have my ways. And yes I think you’re sexy as hell.” Accompanied by a winky face emoji.

Once school released for the day, Lucy met with Anne-Marie at the cafe in town. They sat in a booth, each ordering a soft drink, as neither of them cared for coffee, and sharing a basket of french fries.

“So, you met a guy in London. Tell me about him. What do your parents think?” Anne-Marie asked. She had known Lucy since she was in the 3rd grade, when Lucy started teaching at her alma mater, they developed a close friendship.

“Well, his name is Henry. He’s the same age I am. He’s super sweet, and kind, and gorgeous. He surprised me by coming for my birthday, so mom and dad, and even Clint have already met him, and given their stamp of approval.”

“Well, that’s good. But tell me about him. He is very good looking. What does he do? Where is he from?”

“He originally grew up on the island of Jersey. He has four brothers, and he’s an actor.” Lucy explained, in as few details as possible.

“An actor, like West End?” Anne-Marie, the theatre buff asked.

“Like Superman.” Lucy said taking a drink of her pop, to hide her face.

“Wow. Well, that’s...different.” She replied, stymied by Lucy’s response.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Your parents obviously already approve, and you look happier than I remember seeing you in quite some time. If you���re happy, I’m happy.”

“Thank you Anne-Marie, that means a lot to me.”

Once the big news was dealt with, Lucy and Anne-Marie finished their drinks and fries, and caught up about each other’s summers. Driving home Lucy felt at peace. She had a great guy, who her family and friends approved of, and her year was shaping up to be a good one. She was halfway home when her phone rang. It was Sarah’s mom, Sharon.

“Hi Sharon. How is the world of flowers treating you?” Lucy asked, after pressing the button to connect the call through her car’s phone system.

“Good, I’m calling to ask how you liked your arrangement.”

“My flowers! You did the arrangement‽ That’s how he knew about the tulips! Sneaky bugger.” Lucy exclaimed, a smile splitting her face.

“Well, he called the shop and asked if we delivered to the school. I said we did. He originally ordered roses, but when he told me they were for you, I told him about the tulips. It was my idea to add the pencils. He wanted me to put a mini pumpkin in the arrangement as well, but we don’t have any of those yet. Besides, a pumpkin with tulips, it wouldn't look right.” Lucy could almost hear the shudder in Sharon’s voice at the possibility of making such a tacky addition to a bouquet.

“It’s an inside joke.” Lucy explained “Thank you, they were beautiful.”

“I’m glad you liked them. So, who’s the guy. His accent was delicious.”

Lucy went through the whole story with Sharon including Sarah’s talk with Henry back in London. Sharon howled with laughter. They chatted for a few more minutes before disconnecting. When she got home, Lucy texted Henry. “I know your secret…” And signed it with a kiss.

Henry awoke the following morning to find Lucy’s message, and smiled. His day was light. He had a session with his trainer, getting himself back into Superman shape, before a meeting with his agent.

The trainer worked him hard, but he liked the training, it took his mind off of Lucy. After nearly 5 hours with his trainer, he took a cab into the heart of the city to meet with his agent. Dany was only in London for a few days, and requested a meeting with him. After covering a few general items Dany asked about Lucy.

“How are things going with the teacher?” Dany asked skeptically.

“Her name is Lucy. And things are great. She’s been busy the past few weeks, with school starting, so we don’t get a chance to phone every day, but we text several times a day.”

“So are you bringing her to the Britannias next month? If you are, I need to get her name on the list.” Dany asked, shuffling some papers around on her desk.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t asked her.” Henry shrugged.

Dany stared at Henry for a long moment. “You didn’t ask her? Why the hell not?”

“She’s a private person, and I don’t know if she’d enjoy it.” Henry defended.

“Well, why not let her decide if she wants to go or not. You should ask her soon though, because I’m guessing she doesn't have anything appropriate to wear, and we’d need to get on that ASAP.” Dany switched from business to personal, “Do you want her there?”

“Of course I do, but…”

Dany interrupted him. “Then ask her. When you ask her, if she says yes, give her my number and we’ll arrange a dress for her. Now go home, call your girl, and take a shower, you smell.”

“Always a pleasure Dany.” Henry grinned, leaving the office. The thought of seeing Lucy again putting a spring in his step. He just hoped she’d say yes.

Checking his watch, he calculated that Lucy would still be in class, so he texted her to call him when she had time. No matter how late it was.

Lucy heard her phone ping in the middle of giving a lesson on cognates to her level one students.

“Senorita, no phones in class.” One of her smart-alek students commented.

“It’s in my purse, not on my desk. I forgot to turn off the sound this morning. Now back to the lesson.” She checked her phone between classes to find Henry’s message. “What does he want?” Lucy thought out loud, but was interrupted by the next class filing in. Her lunch would be after this class. “Guess I’m eating lunch at my desk today.” She thought to herself. At once concerned and excited about the prospect of talking to Henry soon.

Lucy found it hard to concentrate on her lesson plan, her imagination was running wild with reasons why Henry would need to talk to her. Once the kids finally filed out of the room, she sat at her desk and pulled out her phone. After taking 3 deep breaths she opened FaceTime and connected to Henry. “If he’s going to give me bad news,” she thought, “he’s going to do it to my face.”

The look on his face calmed her fears that he had bad news. The look of pure joy almost made her cry.

“Hello! Are you done with school already?”

“No, I’m on my lunch break. Your text sounded important. I thought I should call right away.” Lucy replied, before eating a spoonful of the yogurt she had for lunch that day.

“No, it’s not important, really, but it is time sensitive.”He explained.

“I’m intrigued, go on.”

“Well, I’m presenting at the Britannia Awards next month with Chris, and I was wondering if you would like to accompany me. To the show.” Henry asked stiltedly.

“You want me to go to an awards show with you? Where is it, when is it?” Lucy’s brain was working overtime. She couldn't focus on one emotion. Seeing Henry would be amazing, but awards shows meant lots of people and TV cameras.

“It’s in LA, at the end of October.” He mentioned the date. “Would you be able to come? Maybe take a day off, fly to California, hob nob with some other British actors?”

Lucy consulted her big desk calendar, he face dropping, “I would love to accompany you, but I can’t that weekend. That’s the same time as my foreign language teacher’s conference. I’m already registered for it.” Lucy said disappointedly.

Henry’s face fell too.

“I’m sorry honey, this is the one weekend a year I can talk to other Spanish teachers. It’s really important to me.” Lucy explained.

“I understand, but I’m disappointed. Where is your conference?”

“It’s near Minneapolis on Friday and Saturday.”

Henry was silent for a moment, but the look on his face told Lucy his brain was working hard.

“What’s that look for?” Lucy laughed.

“You’ll already be in Minneapolis? The awards are Friday night, would you be available for dinner on Saturday?”

“With you?” she asked, her eyes bright.

“No, with Tom Hiddleston. Of course with me.” He laughed.

“Well, if Tom’s not available, you’ll do.” she laughed. “I can’t wait to see you! Where will you be staying?”

“I don’t know, I just made this plan a minute ago. I’ll arrange everything, and let you know.”

Just then the bell rang signaling the end of lunch period. “Well, when you know, let me know, but I have to go. The kids will be in here any minute.”

“I guess I’ll see you at the end of next month then. I love you.”

“I can’t wait, love you too.” Lucy said, blowing him a kiss before disconnecting the video call just as the first students came in.

“Who was that, Ms. C.? Was that your booooooyfriend” Patricia, one of Lucy’s favorite students asked, drawing out the word boyfriend.

“As a matter of fact, it was.” She said with a grin.

“Oooooooh. Can we see a picture?”

“Not right, now we’ve got a lesson to get to.”

Lucy thought later that it was good the principal hadn’t been visiting classes today, her lesson was a little disorganized. She had braced herself for not seeing Henry until Christmas, now she had a date scheduled in 6 weeks. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

Chapter 19           Chapter 21

[meltingalphabet]

What’s So Scary About Halloween? Age 20

By college, I thought I understood the rules. I thought I knew the laws instilled upon me. And in a moment of desperation, I thought I knew how to play the system.

But I was very, very wrong.

At age 20, I went to a party.

It was my junior year of college and I was struggling to fit in. People who didn’t know me looked at my deformed hand with disgust and morbid fascination, wanting to know how I lost a thumb and two fingers but not wanting to ask. They noticed my glass eyes with scrunched up noses and ill hid stares. I could see the questions form in their minds even as they bit their tongues, giving me tight lipped smiles. It didn’t help that I wouldn’t stay out long after dark and that I never drank or smoked. It’s hard to make friends when you’re afraid of everything and everyone. When you’re so damaged. So utterly broken.

I watched my freshman and sophomore roommates melt into the social stew of college, of sex and alcohol and drama, while I stood at the sidelines. No, not stood. As I hid behind bushes along the sidelines, praying no one would see me. By junior year, I lived in a small dorm room by myself where I’d eat every meal, only leaving to go to class and church.

And then I met Hayley.

Mom had always told me that sitting in the front row made you get better grades. I don’t know how founded that piece of advice was, but I listened to it all throughout high school and college. But my alarm didn’t go off that morning and I was running late. I normally get to Organic Chemistry ten to fifteen minutes early. The class was a common requirement taught by two professors: Professor Goldwick in the spring and Professor Martin in the fall. Professor Goldwick was in his late seventies and thought the 19th amendment was a temporary fluke. He was a boring asshole, but he was a tenured one. Professor Martin was younger, prettier, and actually competent at her job. Which meant that Organic Chemistry in the fall was always full beyond capacity. She was smart enough, and considerate enough, to hold extra lab classes for the spillover, but there was still only one lecture a week.

But the time I arrived, there was standing room only. I groaned as I picked my way towards the back where there was room. I sat down heavily on an empty step, frustrated with the morning’s events. I began to skim through my notes from last week when someone sat down beside me. I looked up and was faced with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She smiled warmly at me.

“Running late?” She asked, her voice low and smooth.

I nodded dumbly, not saying a word.

She smiled. “Yeah, I normally see you sit at the front.” She pointed to my normal seat and I blushed. She giggled slightly, “sorry, that came off as creepy. I’ve just…” She paused to think, “I’ve just noticed you.” She watched my face, waiting for a response. I swallowed and gave her a half hearted smile in return before looking back down at my notes.

A hand appeared between my face and the page. “I’m Hayley.” She said. I looked up and took her hand.

“Taylor.”

I saw the question form on her forehead as she tried to register what was wrong with the handshake. What was wrong with me. Her gaze shifted down and hesitated on the large white scar over my missing fingers, but her eyes quickly lifted back to my face and she gave me a small but genuine smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Taylor.” She said as I turned to face the front of the room. My ears burned with heat and I blushed deeper. Miguel once told me that my ears grew bright red when I was horny. I know he told me that with affection but it horrified me. Like a public boner. I didn’t like my feelings being transparent.

Professor Martin began the lecture and I tried to forget about Hayley. Tried to ignore her presence beside me. The room was so crowded and she was so close. The slim space between us vibrated with electricity and the sounds of the professor’s words grew in and out of focus.

Class ended and Hayley and I began to pack our bags as students trickled out of the room. “Any fun plans for today?” She asked, picking up her pen and notebook. I paused and looked at her. She was watching me, waiting for me to respond.

“Uh, no. Not really.” I said honestly.

She smiled. “Wanna go get something to eat at the shack with me?” She tilted her head slightly with the question and my heart stopped. It was the same way Jackie used to look at me. My breath caught in my throat and I coughed awkwardly, looking around the room.

What would a normal person say? I thought, but it was too late. I was already being weird. I stood and sped out of the room without saying a word.

She called after me, her voice faltering with confusion. “Oh, uh… see you next time!”

I could think of nothing but her for the rest of the week, looking forward to Organic Chemistry as if it were Christmas. Even though I hated straying from my routines, I walked past the still empty front row and waited there in the back of the classroom, hoping she’d sit by me again. And, to my surprise, she did. She smiled and said hi before sitting down beside me. This became our new tradition every Thursday morning. She’d make small talk and at first it was mostly one sided, but slowly I was able to warm up to her. We talked about our majors, what dorm we lived in. Small things. And then one morning Hayley asked me to get a bite after class and I agreed.

We were eating chicken tenders at the shack, a fried food place on campus, when she started excitedly discussing Halloween. Only two days away, it made sense. It’s what normal people talked about. I swallowed hard, my chicken getting caught painfully in my suddenly dry throat. A little pit in my stomach began to grow.

“Are you going to Pi Kappa Alpha’s Halloween party Saturday?” Hayley asked, her eyes large and filled with childlike excitement.

The pit grew hot in my gut. “Uh… I wasn’t going to.”

She smiled at me and my knees literally went weak. “Would you like to come with me?”

The pit fell as if it were an anvil in an old cartoon. I could feel it fall down, deep into the earth and far away from me. And with it, the world. I was in a dark place. A place of shadows and the shadows were speaking. Some were calling to me and some screaming at me. Beckoning me to come, telling me to leave. Green figures with thin sharp teeth asked me to play.

There was a pressure on my shoulder and I realized it was Hayley’s hand. She was looking at me, her eyes filled with concern. I had stopped breathing. Humming filled my brain as I inhaled. My heart was racing, thumping against my chest as if it were trying to get out. I looked at Hayley and she was smiling at me. I exhaled with a sigh, the sensations falling from my body like a too tight coat. Her smile was like a life preserver, giving me something to focus on. Something to bring me back.

I heard a voice, distant and far off. “I’d love to.” It said. I didn’t think it was my voice at first. I knew I would’ve never agreed. But it was my voice and that’s what it said. It betrayed me.

Hayley wrote her number down on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “See you there.”

I knew the consequences of Halloween. I knew it was a mistake. I had intended to text her that I couldn’t make it. That I was sick. But then my thoughts would fill with Hayley’s smile and I’d find myself somewhere else. Somewhere without worry or fear. And so, filled with an optimism and hope I hadn’t had in years, I didn’t text her to cancel. Instead, I skipped class to try and think of a way to save the night. A way to avoid the wrath of Halloween.

The aisles of the store were practically empty, a ghost town on the night before Halloween. I scanned the remnants of the costumes for something useable. A nurse, a pirate, a nun. I hesitated at the last costume, but images of evil nuns and priests made me move on quickly. I was about to give up on finding a costume that was Halloween-proof when something white caught my eye. It was hiding, three plastic costume bags deep on the metal arm, no longer sorted into any particular order. I pushed aside a bag with a man in a devil’s costume on the front.

“Perfect.” I said, smiling at the costume that lay beneath.

Already drunk kids filled the frat house’s front yard as I approached. My phone buzzed in my hand with Hayley’s newest text message:

Out front. See you soon.

I looked up and immediately spotted her. She was dressed in a torn pale gown that flowed out around her. Her skin was painted grey with heavy black shadows under her eyes. Around her neck was a loose rope, tied in a noose. Her eyes lit up as she spotted me and she jogged over to where I stood. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I blushed as she fell away, leaving her hand on my shoulder, her body still close to mine.

“Hey.” She said as she smiled up at me. I had several inches on her and seeing those big brown eyes look up into mine sent shivers through me.

“Hey.”

We stared at each other for several seconds before I looked her up and down. “And what are you supposed to be?”

She stepped back and spun for me. “A witch!” She laughed.

I returned the laughter. “Oh, I get it. Like from the Salem witch trials. Uh… You don’t think that’s… in bad taste?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But don’t you think witches are probably already offended by commercialized pointy hats?”

I sighed, “I guess.”

“Besides,” she said, pushing my shoulder back playfully, “I could say the same thing about you!”

I looked down at my own white gown, careful not to let my halo fall from my head in the process. “What’s wrong with my costume?”

“You don’t think Christians would be offended by you dressing up as an angel?”

I rolled my eyes. “As a Christian, I don’t find it offensive.”

She raised an eyebrow, “and how do you know I’m not a witch?” She pulled at my gown and looked up at my coyly. “As someone who worships Satan, I find your costume very offensive.”

Hayley turned and lead me into the house, now pulsing with loud music and party-goers.

The party was actually really fun. Despite drunk jocks and more slutty bees than you’d think was necessary, I enjoyed watching Hayley’s face open with excitement as she introduced me to her friends. My face and skin burned pleasantly with the first alcohol I had drank since middle school.

We left on the early side.

“It’s her first college party.” Hayley slurred as she very un-delicately stroked my face. “We don’t want to overwhelm her!”

Hayley’s friend Paul, dressed as a pokemon character I didn’t recognize, rolled his eyes at me. “Yes, Taylor seems very delicate. It’s a good thing she has you to take care of her.”

She smiled at him coyly as she pulled me into her in a faux gesture of protection. Paul winked at me and I blushed, thankful that the room we were in was dimly lit.

Hayley fell into me as she stepped off the house’s front steps and I wrapped my arm around her to steady her. She had been excitedly babbling about her dreams of going to veterinary school since we said good-bye to Paul, her words unnecessarily loud and sloppy, interrupted here and there with small violent hiccups. I patiently let her talk, relishing learning more about her.

“Wait,” she slurred, pausing and pointing at the woods beside the street. “I know a shortcut.”

I looked at the densely packed trees. “Maybe we should stick to the road.”

“No, trust me.” She said, her breath reeking of alcohol. “I take this path all the time to get to my dorm.”

“Come on, not tonight.” I said, trying to lead her away.

She giggled as she slipped from my grasp and ran into the woods.

“Hayley!” I called, but she was gone. I jogged in after her. I could hear her footsteps, loud through the dry autumn leaves. She hiccuped and giggled. I ran forward, following the sounds. And then they stopped.

My steps slowed. “Hayley?” I asked tentatively. I stopped for a second, listening for any sign of her, but the woods were silent. I began walking again, the forest tall and dark and quiet around me.

“Boo!” Hayley said as she jumped out from behind a tree.

I screamed in surprise. “Jesus Christ!” I cried, my breath hitching as I laughed in relief. “Fuck, you scared me.” My breathing calmed and my laughing turned into giggles. Hayley was looking at me intently, her smile lopsided from drink.

And then she leaned forward and kissed me. The world faded as she pushed her soft lips into mine. She pressed her body against me and electricity shot through my skin. I remember she smelled like vanilla, despite the cloud of alcohol that hung around her.

Hayley pulled away. I opened my eyes, slowly as if just waking from a deep sleep. She smiled again and laughed before whispering, “catch me if you want another kiss.” And she was off.

It took me a few seconds before I registered what she had said and I ran after her, again following the noises of her feet through the forest. And just like last time, the sounds soon stopped. I began to walk, excitement filling my lower abdomen as I eagerly waited for her to jump out again and kiss me. The thought sent tingles up my spine and back down to my inner thighs. This time, I’d kiss her deeper, taste her. This time, I’d pull her into me and never let her go.

A snapping of a stick brought me back to the present and I paused, “Hayley?”

Another stick broke, a thicker one from the sound. It was coming from above me. I looked up. The dark woods were still. I searched the branches for her. Movement caught my eye and I saw something on a thick branch several feet above my head. There wasn’t much light from the moon, but I thought I could make out shoes.

“Hayley?”

Two feet stood motionless above me.

“Hayley, is that you? What the fuck are you doing?”

One of the feet moved forward hesitantly, as if testing the still night air, before stepping forward. I went to reach my hands out to grab her but she was in front of me so quickly. I hadn’t had a chance to move. In just a second Hayley’s eyes in line with mine. And then there was another snap, louder than before. It sounded wet, much wetter than a stick. A splintering noise that I still hear in my nightmares.

Hayley spasmed in front of me and I stepped back in surprise. The noose was around her neck, but it was no longer loose. It pressed up and into her throat. Her head was bent at a wrong angle and I could see her bones pressing into her skin where her spine had broken. Her big brown eyes bulged and her mouth was open, exposing a bloated tongue.

We weren’t that deep into the woods and students walking past soon heard my screams. They found me hugging Hayley’s lifeless form, pulling at the tight noose around her neck with my two fingers.

It was ruled a suicide.

Sometimes I think if I hadn’t blindly grabbed her, if I had actually used my bad hand to hold her and my good hand to free her, she would’ve survived. But I know it was too late.

Since that night, I have never wavered from my strict no Halloween policy. My husband Chris has been incredibly understanding. He knows about Hayley and the story I told everyone about what happened to my hand. To my eye. He thinks I have Halloween PTSD, which I guess is true. The nasty coincidences. So many horrible events on the same night, years apart. It’s understandable why I’d hate the holiday. Anyone would.

Our son, Zack, has never dressed up. He��s never gone to a Halloween party nor has he even gone trick or treating. I’ll admit, it hasn’t been easy. The other parents don’t understand. They assume I’m a religious nut. But I have to protect myself, and I have to protect Chris and Zack. I’m still plagued by the memories of Hayley’s face, her eyes bulging from their sockets. I look at my beautiful, wonderful family and I’m reminded that Hayley will never have one.

Zack turned five this year and it’s beginning to get even harder to keep him from celebrating. But I thought I had been strict enough, that I had stressed to Chris how sensitive the situation was. I thought he realized that Halloween was forbidden for a reason, even if he didn’t know what it was.

But he caved. He took Zack to a Halloween store without my knowledge and bought him a costume. I came home to my beautiful baby boy squealing with delight as he showed me what he was going to be for Halloween.

Zack’s dressing up as a black cat tonight.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

[71tenseventeen]

Shelter-(20)

Here it is. I hope I did them justice.

Next chapter will be an Epilogue.  

Geno calls several times a day for the first two weeks.

Sidney never answers but he cries every time it rings.

By the time a month has passed, the calls have tapered down to once a day.

It hurts.  Sidney knew it would.  He did this for a reason.

Everytime he reaches for the phone, he reminds himself of that.

–

Sidney lands a job doing janitorial work at the rink.  The hours are more regular than at the diner and he gets paid a little bit more.

Then Taylor gets the flu and a double ear infection. Sidney misses too many days during his probationary period and gets fired.

He gets fired from the grocery store when he oversleeps after staying up for most of three nights in a row with a teething Taylor.

He eventually gets hired back on at the diner.  

He tries hard not to think about how much Mom would hate that.  Taylor has to be taken care of.  

There’s no one else left to do it.

–

Geno tries to call four times on Sidney’s birthday.  He’s the only person who remembers.

–

In August Sidney hides all the mail he ever got from University of Pittsburgh in a box in the closet so he can try to forget about it.

Some days he thinks it’s close to working.

–

By September, Geno’s only calling once a week.

–

At the beginning of October Sidney splurges on a $5 costume for Taylor at the thrift store.  He wants to take her trick-or-treating this year like Mom always did with him.

The next day the car blows a tire.

The first Pens game of the regular season is a couple of days later but Sidney pawned the TV to help pay for a new tire so he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing Geno on TV.

There’s no money left for Thanksgiving dinner but he buys a pack of sliced turkey.  He and Taylor have sandwiches and peas.

–

Sidney takes Taylor trick or treating and can’t stand the sympathetic looks he gets from every single neighbor’s house they go to.

He lets her eat too much candy and she gets sick all over him in the middle of the night.

–

Geno doesn’t call at all in November.

Sidney puts away all the pictures and reminders of Geno that he can find.

He takes off the necklace and tucks it away with the ring.

He wishes he didn’t still cry every day. He wishes it didn’t hurt so much.

–

Sidney can’t bring himself to set up the tree and lights in December.  There’s no money for presents and even if there was, no one’s around to give them any anyhow.

–

A few days before Christmas a box arrives. It’s from Geno.

It contains a wrapped box for Taylor and a sealed card for Sidney.  He swallows his pride and opens the box with Taylor.  There are several warm outfits, a couple of hats and some toys for her.  

Sidney is so sick of crying.

He tucks the card away in a book without opening it.

–

On New Year’s Eve Sidney cuts up a bag of newspaper confetti.  Taylor falls asleep by nine. Sidney throws the bag of confetti in the trash and goes to bed.

–

In early January a car pulls into the drive. Sidney instinctively knows who it is.

He wonders when he got released.

He meets Troy at the door.  “What do you want?”

Troy frowns.  “Trina at work?”

Sidney feels like he’s been punched but he lets out a huff of laughter.  “No.”

“Look, Sidney, I’m really not in the mood for-”

Sidney cuts him off by shoving a copy of Trina’s funeral program into his hands. Troy looks back and forth between it and Sidney a few times before he finally reads the text and looks up, shocked. “Is this a joke?”

“Fuck you.”  Sidney makes to shut the door but Troy stops it with an outstretched arm.

“Sidney, I didn’t know.” To his credit, Troy looks completely dumbfounded.

“Well now you do.”

“What happened?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Troy furrows his brow. “What do you mean, none of my business?  She was my-”

Sidney cuts him off again. “What? She was your what?  Not your wife—you divorced her and left us when I was a baby.”

“You don’t know anything about what happened between us.”

Sidney shakes his head. “It should have been you.”

Troy freezes. “What did you say?”

“I said it should have been you.” Sidney glares hard at Troy and fights tearing up with every fiber of his being.

Troy looks like he’d like to say any number of things, none of them particularly nice, but in the end he just sets his jaw and shakes his head before he walks away.

–

Bye week is coming up again.  Sidney knows because he hears rumblings, people speculating whether Geno will spend it in town again. Every customer he waits on seems to know that Sidney and Geno were best friends and he’s constantly being asked how Geno is doing, if Sidney will visit him in Pittsburgh sometime, if Sidney can get them an autograph.  

Sidney is so tired.

–

Geno comes into the diner and, of course, sits in Sidney’s section.  

Sidney can’t ask someone else to take the table—they would know something’s up so he takes a deep breath and goes.  “Hey.  Specials today are Patty Melt with Onion rings, Turkey wrap with steamed veggies and Chicken Pot Pie.”

“Sid.”

“$6.99 a plate for the specials.”

“Sidney.”

“We also have peach pie and banana pudding on the dessert menu today.”

“Sid.”

Sidney takes a deep breath.  “What, Geno?”

“We not together so you act like you not even know me?”

“It’s not…that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Seem like it to me.”

Sidney sighs. “Why are you here?”

“I call and call, you never answer. I think maybe I go to house, you not answer door so I come here.”

Sidney feels his cheeks flush because, honestly, Geno is probably right about that. “Geno, I have to work. I can’t—I can’t just stand here and talk to you.”

“Fine. Patty Melt, no onions. Curly fries instead of onion rings.  Two sides of macaroni and cheese, order of poutine and side of baked beans with bacon.  Strawberry Lemonade and two glasses water.”

Sidney looks at him incredulously.

“Play hockey, Sid! Middle of season, always hungry,” Geno says, sounding a little defensive.

“Okay.  I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Sid, wait.”

Here it comes, Sidney thinks, and braces himself for what Geno has to say next.

“Diner still have honey butter?”

That isn’t what he was expecting. “Uhh, yeah?”

Geno nods. “Add basket of rolls and honey butter.”

“Okay, Geno.”

He’s hit with a split second of intense fondness before reality intrudes and he remembers Geno isn’t his anymore.

Sidney wonders if it will always hurt this much.

Each time he goes to the table, Sidney braces himself for whatever Geno wants to say to him but Geno eats (and eats and eats) and then orders and eats dessert (two slices of peach pie) and he still hasn’t said anything.  

When Sidney brings his check over Geno finally touches his wrist gently and looks up at Sidney, eyes full of hope.  “Family leave early this morning for trip to Russia.  You think about come over tonight? We talk?”

“You know I can’t do that, Geno.”

Geno sighs and gives Sidney a sad smile. “Okay. I leave tomorrow at six for airport if you change mind.”

“Geno…” Sidney’s heart hurts.

Geno stands and looks down at Sidney with sad eyes. “Doesn’t matter if today, tomorrow, a year, ten years from now, Sid.  Will always be here when you ready.”

Sidney watches him leave the diner and then looks down at the table. There’s a (huge) tip and an envelope that just says “Sid” and “Please read” on it.  Sidney swallows down the lump in his throat as he stuffs it all in his pockets.

–

Becky’s late for her overnight shift and Sidney has to work over until she gets there so it’s late when he finally gets home and retrieves a sleeping Taylor from Dorothy next door. He eases her into her crib and wants nothing more than to faceplant in bed himself but Geno’s envelope has been burning a hole in his brain all night.

He makes himself shower first before he settles on his bed and turns it over in his hands. It’s crinkled and bent where Sidney had to fold it in half to fit into his pocket. It’s not overly thick but Sidney can tell there’s probably a handful of pieces of paper in it.

He takes a deep breath and opens it.

The first thing is a pamphlet from University of Pittsburgh with the words “Student Parents” and pictures of what are apparently students with their small children on the front.  Geno has highlighted various things in the pamphlet like the section on campus daycare facilities, online classes and other resources available to students who have small children.  There are a couple of notes written in Geno’s messy scrawl.  Things like, “Offer at least 7 class for your major online,” and “Meet with teachers of one year old babies and they answer all my question but maybe you have more. Question on yellow paper.”  

Sidney shuffles the papers and plucks out a slightly crumpled paper torn from a legal pad.  On it there are—Sidney’s eyes go a little wide.  There are twenty seven questions listed out and notes all over the paper about the answers Geno got to those questions.  Things like “bring own diapers,” and “can bring own food or eat daycare food,” and “good security.”  

Sidney swallows hard and puts the pamphlet and papers aside.

The next is a printout from the University website about their student parent housing options with a note scrawled across the top.  “For if Sidney want to live on own with Taylor.”

After that is a long list that Geno has compiled of activities, book stores and places to go with toddlers in Pittsburgh.

The fifth and final piece of paper is information about internships with the Pens for physical trainers.  The note at the top says, “I talk to trainers and they say they give bigger chance for friend of player.” On the bottom of the paper, Geno has written, “Sid-Whether you be with me or not, want you to follow dreams.  Love, Geno.”

Sidney drops his head into his hands and cries for a long time.

Eventually he gathers up the papers and tucks the envelope carefully into his nightstand.  While the drawer is open, his eyes fall on the little box that he keeps the necklace and ring in.  He pulls it out and runs his fingers over it, leaning back against the headboard.  He spends a lot of time thinking before he can finally drift off to sleep.

He jerks awake sometime in the early morning hours and looks at the clock.  It’s just a couple minutes after five.  Sidney is laying there wondering why he woke up when he realizes it’s really cold in his room.

He throws on some socks and a hoodie and checks to be sure there isn’t somehow a window open and then goes to check the thermostat.  It’s set at 72* but the inside temperature is only 52.

“Fuck!”

He dashes to the closet where the heating unit is and yanks open the door.  It only takes him a minute to figure out that it’s not on and it’s not going to turn back on.  It’s -8 outside and the heat just went out.  Sidney doesn’t have a dime to fix it.  

He sinks to the floor and drops his head on his knees, crying for the second time in 6 hours, feeling crushed by the weight of everything that’s happened. It’s below freezing outside and they don’t have heat.  The car has been making a strange noise for the last week and their microwave quit working a month ago. This is it, he thinks. This is what I have to look forward to.  

He’ll always have something horrible to struggle with—broken down cars, blown tires,  broken heating systems and he will never have enough money to deal with it it.  He’ll never make enough to take care of Taylor the way she deserves.  He’ll always be living with the fear of Troy showing up again.  He’ll always be alone, will never be able to look at someone else without thinking of Geno.  

Geno who loves him so much that he went and interviewed teachers to see if they were worthy of Taylor.  Geno who loves him so much he gathered all of this information and wanted Sidney to have it even if he decided not to be with Geno.

Sidney gasps out a sob because of everything that’s crashing down on him, that’s the worst.  He loves Geno and Geno loves him and he pushed him away.  In that moment he knows it’s the biggest mistake he’s ever made, knows that he doesn’t have to do this alone— he never had to He’d been so stupid that he let the only person in the world that he’s ever been able to truly count on go.  In less than an hour he’ll be leaving again for Pittsburgh and—

Sidney jumps up.

There’s still time.

The call goes straight to voicemail.  Geno’s phone isn’t on.

He crams his feet into shoes before running to gently pull Taylor out of her crib.  “I’m so sorry, Tay.  We have to go.  We need to go see Geno, okay?”  

He dresses her in layers and then puts her snowsuit and hat on over all of it.  She’s not thrilled.

He yanks on his own hat, gloves and coat and then grabs a fleece blanket for Taylor for good measure before hustling out to the car.

It doesn’t start.

Sidney tries and tries but it just makes a clicking sound and he bites back his tears as he pulls an increasingly cranky Taylor out of her carseat and bundles the blanket over her in his arms.  It’s just three blocks, they can make it.  He’ll run if he has to.  

He gets there at 5:48 but there’s no car in the driveway and his heart sinks.  He rings the bell.  When no one answers he rings it again.  And again.  By the third time he knows no one will answer.  He waited too long.

Geno is gone.

It takes him longer to trudge home but he tries to keep a quick pace, if for no other reason than to get Taylor out of the cold, not that it’s much warmer in their house. He wonders what will happen to them if he can’t figure out a way to fix the heat. Probably nothing good.

Tears track down his cheeks as he apologizes softly to her while he carries her home. “I’m so sorry, Taylor.  I’m so sorry. I was too late. I messed up and I was too late.  He loves us and he would have taken care of us.  We would have been a family and I blew it.”

Sidney is devastated.

He turns the corner onto their street and freezes when he looks up.

There’s a car parked behind his in the driveway.

Geno.

Sidney runs the rest of the way, despite Taylor’s protests and bounds up onto the porch where his front door is hanging open. “Geno?”

Geno dashes out of the hallway to the front door. “Sid!  Where you go? I come here, think try one last time and your front door open, car door open.  Can’t find you.  You and Taylor gone and I’m so scared!”  He moves close and grips Sidney’s cheeks. Sidney doesn’t pull away.

“Sid what wrong? What happen? Why you out in cold with Taylor? Why you cry?”  Geno looks so shaken and Sidney doesn’t know how he ever could have pushed him away.

His lip quivers as he speaks. “You said you were leaving at six and I just, I wanted to see if…if it’s not too late…”

Geno’s eyes open a little wider.  “You mean, Sid? You want?”

Tears are spilling over again as Sidney nods and rasps out, “I’m so sorry, Geno.  I love you. I miss you so much.  You are the best person I’ve ever known and I’ve been so stupid.”

“Oh Sid.  I tell you already. Never too late.” And then Geno kisses him and the weight of the world is gone from Sidney’s shoulders.

A few hours later, the three of them board a plane to Pittsburgh.