#what is this??? idk but it's ur problem now

[sigmas-lover]

my #bedtime story continues

I could say that I love different things- like the autumn breeze, black coffee with hazelnuts, or the feeling of control. Those are just extreme expressions we throw around. Nothing else special.

Something about how she’s like. downplaying it. Idk. hands behind my back. Surely this will not resurge as a problem in the future, her habit of downplaying these things that evidently make her happy—to some degree. Girl murder is not ur entire personalityyyy.

but my hands wandered, landing on top of hers, comfortably sliding my fingers between the gaps, neither of us aware what we were doing to one another.

I could not resist it. My signals were jammed, and they were all directing me to hold her hand or her arms the entire time. … 

Julianne continued to hold my hand though even outside the theatre an hour later, humming the songs happily and swaying her arms.

OUGHGHHH I BELIEVE IN LOVE AGAIN I REALLY DOOOOOO

“Julianne, don’t think about the Mass part, think of what we’ll do when we get back to my house–” I held my breath and thoughtfully constructed what I would say next “-- What food we’re gonna be eating or what drinks I should prepare..do you drink alcohol? No, bad question, do you have an allergy somewhere? Are you okay with salmon steak for us both..?”

SAM NEVER FUMBLES FIRE EMOJI

I was asked- “where’s Julianne?” by at least 3 people.

I guess we go in pairs now.

uuuuuu they’re in pairs now uughhuuuuuu

I tilted my head in flustered confusion. Sure I will. At least by now the smoke has settled. She slips her glasses off and leans into me, taking the initiation to kiss me first.

CHAT CLIP THAT NOOOOW CLIP THAT NOW CHAT. WE'RE ABOUT TO WITNESS ABSOLUTE CINEMA. WHO CHEERED WHO CHEERED WHOOOO!!!! ME ME ME ME ME

I walk out of here stumbling and lost Where am I. Then I collapse on the ground dead

She Loves You (2/2)

Cathedrals are everywhere for the eyes to see.

Thank you all for being patient with how long this took! Happy 2nd month, House Guest! This crazy hyperfixation has me holding on and recovering from everything.

Read the 1st part and the Midfic to fully understand everything going on here.

In which our beloved couple present themselves happily long before they need to defend their existence to their imagined public.

December 12, 1987

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You want to look up and pretend it isn't snowing. you want to see the autumn sky again but no. It's flat. It's a pastel lavender. And the weather freezes everyone's paws as they read the morning paper. You're unwrapping this notebook that's been sitting snuggly in the wrapper for the new season. and as you transfer important notes and numbers from the old book, a pink sticky note has her name and telephone number on it. It was only yesterday when you first called but the numbers are already burnt into your mind. Then your eyes look at the clock, monitoring the hours, scratching in impatience, anticipating…

Then you realise what’s happening. You thought that you had kept her at arms-length, close enough but not comfortable. You kept most people at a distance but not her. She begins to tap dangerously close into your mind and you can only shut down to prevent any more ideas from flowing. But she’s multiplying, burrowing everywhere you can hide. How annoying.

Then you may stop to think to yourself: “Is it likely that I’m falling in love again?” Again? Since when have I loved someone? Like Lola? I’m not too sure if there’s a calibre we can weigh the intensity on. Maybe a heart attack, but I never had any of those either. In any case though, I don’t believe I do that sort of thing. The feeling is far distant from it. I could say that I love different things- like the autumn breeze, black coffee with hazelnuts, or the feeling of control. Those are just extreme expressions we throw around. Nothing else special. 

I walked out of the shop expecting a yellow sky but it was still covered in lavender. The feeling was beginning to make me go mad. Dressing up in new garb, looking directly at myself in confused rage. I’ve had this conversation before. I like women. I prefer women. I am not above killing them though. But love knows its ways around me. I’m blushing. I’m fixating on every clumsy sign of affection she shows me. Her kind gestures. Her smile. The way she scrunches her face when her glasses begin to slip. Her unusual voice. I’m beginning to feel it again. A quickened heartbeat. The blurry vision. Sweaty palms. Slurred thoughts.

Maybe I do.

Then she shakes my shoulder when she finds me sitting near the ticket booth with my arms crossed. I sit up properly taking a good look at her. Julianne finally wore her glasses outside, the red frames matching a ribboned top. It was something a little nicer than any of her usual outfits. I curiously wondered though who was inside the silver locket she was wearing.

“Hi, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No, you aren’t late at all.” I replied “It’s not even 4 yet but let’s hurry. I have a secret to show you in here.”

Her ears popped up hearing the invitation. She nodded and followed behind me when I bought our tickets and made our way into the cinema. The theatre lights were still on, but as to be expected, there were handfuls of families crowding the theatre this Saturday. Thankfully seats 6 and 7 on Row L were empty and everyone else was courteous enough to not surround our bubble as badly as they could have. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this spot.” I whispered “This has the best view in the cinema even on a packed night.”

Her eyes instead focus on the architectural quirks and details swirling around the space, drawn immediately to the gold cat centrepiece hanging above the screen. She looks back at me and nods.

 “It is…seems just right in the middle..” Her voice tones down to a shy whisper. She rubs her hand on the plush of the velvet seat. The lights dim and the projection begins. The doors are closed for the next hour. Time was moving slower in that red box. I could barely focus on the movie. I know I’ve seen it before somewhere. Julianne on the other hand had her eyes focused on every minute and every detail. She was holding back her excitement to not be so rude. The entire time I was squinting, making out her face in the dark and she only caught me staring once just to tell me her favourite scene was coming up. I forced myself to look at the screen, avoiding suspicion but my hands wandered, landing on top of hers, comfortably sliding my fingers between the gaps, neither of us aware what we were doing to one another.

I could not resist it. My signals were jammed, and they were all directing me to hold her hand or her arms the entire time. I regained autonomy when I asked myself if I could take it a step further. Then the excitement of momentum drowned. 

Julianne continued to hold my hand though even outside the theatre an hour later, humming the songs happily and swaying her arms.

“Hey Julianne, your glasses are fogged.”

“Aw, are they? Thanks.” She let go and grabbed a napkin to clean them up.

She leaned her head on my arm, purring as we continued walking downtown to her apartment. Lively Saturday nights have returned slowly but surely. Christmas lights and displays illuminated the stores around each corner, decorated with trinkets or dioramas of religious imagery. Julianne would stop every now and then to admire a few of them. 

“Thanks for taking me to see Annie tonight. You really didn’t have to.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I don’t know what to do with myself on December nights. Everyone is either out of town or closed early.”

“Everyone is home in December where I’m from. Woodbrook would be twice as busy. Everything would be open til 11!”

I gently smile.

“Oh, I should make it up to you..uhm..do you like magic shows? Not the birthday party sort of ones, the ones that are a lil more mature.” Julianne asks almost excitedly “It’s more of a comedy thing than it is kiddie entertainment. I could take you with me..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. It’s not my cup of tea.” I said between half-gritted teeth, feeling awful for rejecting the offer.��

“Well, is there any hobby you have that we can do together? Something we can do over the weekend?” Julianne begins insisting. 

“I don’t really have a lot. I’m getting old, so maybe woodwork but most of my hobbies are solitary”

“We can always meet at the library then. I don’t mind. Also, have you eaten dinner? Do you want to go out? I’ll pay tonight since you paid for the tickets.”

I struggled to reply to that. I really had no appetite today. Maybe a few pieces of bread would do today but the thought of the movie meet up tonight weighed upon my head even after the fact, I had lost the will to. I shook my head. 

I’ve been down this road before.

Except she was a lot more merciful in her methods. She left disappointed but she at least understood when to stop pushing my buttons.

“I’m being so pushy, am I? I don’t want to force you to do anything. You’re just so nice to me. I also wanna be nice to you.” She frowns, wrapping her tail around her waist for her to fidget with. We stop at the entrance of the red building. She looks back at me and slowly blinks.

“I’ll leave it at that for now. You really should eat dinner though. Thank you!”

I stood at the doorway for longer than I would have liked to admit.

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December 15, 1987

Last night, Woodbrook experienced its first gleanings of winter. This morning, my driveway was covered in snow. I figured that I should get the front of the house and shop cleared up as early as now to avoid delaying opening. And so I was up since 5, shovelling through snow and greeting school children before it was time I drove to town to do more of the same. 

Coming into the town proper, an alarm bell began ringing in my mind- it was calling for me to look around. I did not understand what I was watching for suddenly. There were no signals in the snow this morning. From the reflection on the glass though was a bright rose parka that my eyes followed into the corner to the church. Nobody else wears that bright of a color here.

Following the butterfly into the pews, I hung my head low and pretended to have a reason to be there. She was seated rows away from me, spending 20 more minutes praying the rosary. She broke out of that solemness and looked around her, turning her back and finally acknowledging my presence. Her cheeks warmed up as she smiled then hid her blushing as she quickly got up and signalled I should follow her. 

“Did..did anyone see that?”

“See what?”

“See me…”

I playfully wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Her cheek got redder, cautiously looking around the street for any onlookers. 

“Most people can’t put up a fight about it. Cut it out.” I reassured her “Wanna get a chocolate at Betsy’s?”

“I’m fine, I’ll be making pancakes at home. Do you want to come with me?”

We looked at a clock inside the still closed stationery store. It was 7 in the morning. The storefront was already clean anyway. 

“I’ll help cook them with you. I’m glad you asked, ‘cause I haven’t eaten anything since 5.”

“Five? I’ve been in church since five. It’s the first snow too.” She was holding out her tongue to taste the snow. 

“Yeah, just clearing out my road, and you don’t have work today?”

“Woodbrook Elementary suspended classes today due to how intense the snow was last night. I also thought that, yknow, 10 days til Christmas. Isn’t there a vigil mass leading up to Christmas at the start of the day? Guess not.” She was talking her head off, eyes still looking behind us. The church had long disappeared into the horizon and she was still distracting me from actually asking what I had come there for.

“No, they don’t. But there is a mass during Christmas Eve. Do you want us to go together?”

“No, no, no, no, I don’t..want to..go to Mass..going with..I’m just saying God would know I’m coming there with impure intentions or what have you.”

Her eyes avert away from where we’re walking and she tries to let go of the grip I have on her. I just continue to hold her closer. The heat in between us was already far too comfortable to let go of. She tried again and my hand just lowered itself to where it was holding her hip.

“No, I’m not letting you go, we still have a block away to walk. Nobody is out here anyway.”

It was an unusually empty Tuesday morning. Half the stores on this avenue were shut down and the foggy air obscured whatever might just be waking up right now. Everything was washed in cream and blues that Christmas ornaments and lights would cut through later in the day. But it was 7 in the morning. To the two of us, this could have been a 3 pm on any other season. 

“It’s safe for two girls or guys to hold hands at least here. Anything other than that is a gamble. I don’t think anyone has any balls in them to punch anyone over what we’re doing right now.”

“I mean..we’re just friends though, right?” Julianne quickly corrected me.

“Of course, of course. That’s why I was thinking if we could attend mass together then we’ll have Christmas dinner. How does that sound?”

“You’re Catholic too?”

I could feel myself trying to not burst into laughter at her silly question. That’s the worst you could assume of me. 

“Sorta” I lied.

“Then we can, as..you know..friends..and you just don’t have to look at me during Mass but..”

“Julianne, don’t think about the Mass part, think of what we’ll do when we get back to my house–” I held my breath and thoughtfully constructed what I would say next “-- What food we’re gonna be eating or what drinks I should prepare..do you drink alcohol? No, bad question, do you have an allergy somewhere? Are you okay with salmon steak for us both..?”

Julianne pulled out her keys when we got to the lobby of the apartment building, eyes following us to the room at the top of the complex.

“I do love salmon, what if we bake it though with buttered vegetables and cheese?”

Her face was red and warm, a hand similarly holding on to the small of my back in front of more people than she worried about. She excitedly talked about what she could cook for the night or what we’d be doing after.

The rosary on her neck heard every intention and desire regardless.

They know. And they’re rewarding her for it.

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December 25, 1987

“I told you” She whispered “Don’t look at me during the Mass.”

“Where else was I supposed to look?”

“I don’t know…the altar?” Julianne pouted again. She toyed with the silver heart on her chest since we got inside the truck. 

We were stuck in the traffic between the busiest roads in town. New cars were flowing in and out of town for vacation while most were rushing home for dinner or their reservations. Last year I spent the day in bed, watching movies alone, and hiding from the world. I was still well fed by at least three families sending me everything I wanted. I was eating a casserole and cookies under my table waiting for Spring. I did miss the formality of the night though. I used to spend it with the Albrights for over two decades. Now with them away, I was getting calls from all around town to stay over. But the message was clear this year. Julianne placed her hands back on the handles of her tupperware when the light turned green.

“It’s so nice that you made that baked salmon too. You didn’t need to.”

“You just wouldn’t tell me what else I could do for you after Annie. It’s all I can do.”

Regardless, I was fine with returning routine back into my holiday schedule. I was wandering in the dark again earlier this year, trailing off of last year’s habits. I remember I still absentmindedly bought a certain somebody’s favorite cakes on a Monday afternoon for what was our afternoon tea time. Luckily, I now had someone at awe of such simple treats like raspberry tarts. Her tail was happily straightened up admiring the gussied-up kitchen. A table for two, sharing two big casseroles of food, strawberry shortcake, raspberry tarts, and a whole bottle of wine. She straightened her white dress, looking back to me to politely gesture we take a seat.

“As friends, right?”

“To my dearest friend, Julianne.”

I know she doesn’t only think of me as her friend.

I’m a special case. An eyecatcher. And then a crush. Then a friend. Now her first suitor. 

She’s crawling inside and finding her space.

Her hand rests on top of mine as we eat.

Many, many more wordless gestures.

The lamb rests inside comfortably.

I could lock it inside now.

But when her eyes curiously glance over to mine, the pressure drops and I feel similarly airy. A fever rushes back to me. The feelings become reciprocal for a glean of a second.

It’s poisoning us both.

This Christmas I watched a girl put a whole strawberry in her mouth. Then she helped me wash the dishes and pack away the Christmas garb on my dining table. For one night I was not angry. I felt fine. I felt fuzzy around her.

She gave me a few new shirts and hid stickers at the bottom of the box because she noticed I had this notebook with me all the time.

I hid one of my old sweaters in between the folds of the dress I bought for her.

In the safety of my house, just before she left, I asked her to come closer when I began thanking her for coming over. I lost focus of what I was intending on doing then leaned over and kissed her forehead before telling her to run along now. It looked like she wanted to reciprocate back but she walked away from my porch with her hand on her head. 

If I was thinking clearly, I may have asked her to be mine instead.

But some things take time, right?

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January 1st, 1988

I wondered where she was last night. I called her up in the morning of the eve, then the afternoon, and later left a message on her machine instead the minute a new year passed. My eyes were always looking for her. She had to be wearing any sort of shade of pink or red. Rose was absent from the crowd of onlookers tonight. Last night I only looked at the display with a solemn emptiness. I figured that maybe Julianne would have preferred a plain sky. When the smoke cleared, I looked up to see her windows shut. Her lights were still on but not even a hint like the sound of my keys prompted her to open them.

But I could feel myself develop a dependence on her presence in an environment ever since. I see flowers spelling her initials or colors I’ve sworn looked out of place in a town dull without eccentricity. And even before anything was finalized, I was asked- “where’s Julianne?” by at least 3 people.

I guess we go in pairs now.

I couldn’t be embarrassed about it anymore. It was my lifestyle now, knocking on their door to come inside the red bricked apartment. It’s like they were almost expecting me, telling me she’s been in her apartment since December 30th. I’ll admit, I began to worry when I got to her front door. I was imagining the poor girl depressed on the floor. But when she opened the door, she just sighed in relief and told me to get inside as soon as possible. She was feeling a bit jumpy, she described staying far, far away from the windows as possible. The sound of firecrackers and fireworks startled the poor kitten. It was not isolation but caution.

Fireworks displays were anxiety inducing to her. She voluntarily hid away from the parade to keep her peace of mind.

“And yet…” Julianne whispered to herself “...people were still looking for me.”

“You’re already such an integral part of the town. People are going to go look for you.” 

“Days ago, I was approached by Guy near his store, and he confidently called me ‘Amy’.”

“But have you heard what they’re calling you, though? Like Pinky. Pinky is a popular nickname now.” I chuckled.

“Pinky…”

“I’m sure they all understand.”

“But were you disappointed I wasn’t there?”

“I guess I was. But you should just tell me fireworks freak you out sometimes..”

She wrapped her arms around me in loving suggestion, almost immediately retracting before resting on my chest fully.

“I heard there’ll be another fireworks show over at the edge of Centerville though… if you want to watch something with me tonight..”

“I’m fine..let’s just stay where we are.”

“Stay…” She echoed back to me, crawling closer and closer.

“You’re so close now, woah, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure either. Do you?”

She sits herself on my thigh, arms wrapped around my shoulders as she lightly imitates initiation. She couldn’t keep a straight face though.

“Stay and watch the stars with me later.”

I tilted my head in flustered confusion. Sure I will. At least by now the smoke has settled. She slips her glasses off and leans into me, taking the initiation to kiss me first. 

The jumpiness transfers, shaking from her hand to mine to everybody. The burning and the electricity. How shocking. 

She loves me.

[padfootastic]

every time i read a fic where lily evans is upheld as a paragon of justice and the underdogs and the vulnerable, i die a little inside

bc,,,,are we talking ab the same gal who kept defending snape for atleast five years of hogwarts and however many before that? who overlooked his bigoted actions, even when others called it/her out on it?

ugh

(now james, on the other hand? we have such clear evidence that he fits this archetype but ofc that’s overlooked isn’t it. gonna shut up here but will take the rant into the tags)

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[illegiblehandwriting1]

my obsession with people waking up to start a scene in their pov is showing again

[whirlybirbs]

it’s 5:20am i cannot sleep i am consumed with thoughts and yearning for keigo takami i need to be euthanized

[cgarttrailsandtails]

You gotta love the VAs, they can be both hilarious and completely serious (respectively) and are just overall amazing.

Kudos to them!

[gemini-queen42]

Tmw Finale was rough last rehersal and you know DAMN well you've just been vaguely going with what the ppl around you are singing so now ur looking at ur script hoping that you'll suddenly be struck with the knowledge on how to Actually Read sheet music and that will fix everything.

[bibleofficial]

where is my fat husband

[solcarow]

.

[orteskycam]

task 001.

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 , 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 . . .

camille was no stranger to luke sinclair’s shitty attempts at flirting. 

they were always standing by eliza when she fell victim to his gaze. the distasteful comments and egotistical assumptions ; camille would always be the first to jump to her best friend’s defence.

he was an inconvenience to them, at the best of times. 

everyone starting to retreat from the roaring fire was far from the best of times. milo had announced their departure with a kiss to camille’s forehead, kody seeming to join. the numbers started to dwindle – and perhaps if camille had been paying enough attention to notice how dangerously close to came to alone time with luke sinclair, maybe finding her own moment to sneak away would have been higher priority. 

it’s not like they were supervising the way he was acting around eliza. when they thought about it, they couldn’t remember when the other girl had gone to bed. at least, that’s where one would assume. 

the lack of observation only really hit when luke was moving to sit next to camille. fuck. considering she didn’t care enough about seeming polite, there was no subtlety in the way she tried to get up. 

“ c’mon cam… stay. hang out a little. ” the tone of luke’s voice should have been enough to raise a red flag of something being different. 

“ i don’t want to. ”

they both knew camille wasn’t joking, but the way luke chuckled almost brought that into question. his hand found theirs, coaxing them back down to sit. she was as stubborn as they came, yet she settled back down at his command. 

technically, they could’ve left at any moment. the only thing binding them to their spot was luke’s magnetic force. camille always considered herself to be stronger – perhaps she wasn’t trying to fight. all because of a little seed planted in her mind. 

“ milo’s been acting weird as fuck, right ? ” 

the tone casual, as if he didn’t know the spiral it would start. except it was luke, so he definitely did. it was a thread camille couldn’t help but pull on. morbid curiosity. the inability to believe things could actually be good without some kind of catch. luke seemed to be giving it to them on a silver platter. 

camille didn’t believe it. no way she could. that was their milo. they weren’t without their ups and downs, but the idea of betrayal ? something being done behind camille’s back ? that was unbelievable. milo would always show their cards. no matter how many times she repeated that sentiment to themselves, some doubt must have crossed their features. 

considering the way luke moved in closer. his hand sneaking up her thigh startled camille from any reflection she had been doing. the way his tone had flipped from accusatory to comforting had been missed. 

the way his hands raised in surrender after they had slapped him away, however, was an image burned into her memory. 

luke sinclair got nothing more than an eye roll and scoff from camille before they left him where he sat. seeking out milo, who had already fallen asleep. as they did every night, they slipped into his bedding. claiming the place of little spoon as their bodies effortlessly fit together. 

despite the fact everything was the same – luke’s word’s haunted camille’s mind. even when they pulled her closer in his sleep. or when they woke with a kiss at her temple just as they had when leaving the night before. 

hands on their body felt like going through the motions, no matter how hard camille tried to force themselves into the moment. they made their shitty attempt at breakfast with the resources available to them, and camille forced a smile whenever she caught her lover’s gaze. 

guilt crept into their bones. perhaps that was the driving force behind the arms settling around milo’s waist. the way they stiffened under the reciprocation was enough to make camille retreat. it was as if the tension was contagious, seeping in to poison his thoughts too. 

the way milo turned around to reach out for her again would betray that theory, but camille could do nothing but push him away. physically, emotionally. gaze cast to the floor as she treated, scared of seeing their own hurt reflected in milo’s eyes. 

beyond the treeline became camille’s escape. a moment of solitude away from everything. luke and his stupid words, milo and their startled deer gaze when camille had push hands away from her. 

the cigarette between her lips would’ve disappointed smokey the bear – but that didn’t stop the white lighter from casting a glow of warmth against pale skin. 

the fickle idea of peace was stolen from them when a twig snapped under the weight of an intruder. without glancing over their shoulder, it could’ve been a literal animal, rather than one of the ones she’d been sharing a campsite with. that didn’t spare it from the wrath storming around their head. 

“ can you fuck off ? ”

of course, the universe was never one to favour camille. instead of looking stupid for cussing at a deer – which was, somehow, the good outcome – they were met with the cocky chuckle of none other than luke sinclair. 

a glare was shot over her shoulder, a warning to turn back now. each step closer was a direct challenge. whether it was a surrender or a reach for dominance, cam didn’t know. but it was their voice that cut through the silence. 

“ what ? are you fucking stalking me ? ”

evidence was stacked up against him. even though camille was of the strong opinion that luke was a stupid boy, nothing seemed to be a coincidence when it came to him. “ we weren’t done with our conversation last night. ” words light, as if it hadn’t ended with camille slapping his hand and storming off. 

oh, to have the ego of a frat boy. 

“ yeah, we were done. ”

“ what’d they do last night ? ” his face didn’t even try to hide the amusement he found in the situation. “ because you were hanging out with me and then givin’ the cold shoulder all morning. ”

“ you fucking freak, you’re spying on me. ” there were not many people lurking around their camp site. anyone else bringing the concern forward could have been justified. the grudge against luke was held too close to their chest to allow for any grace. 

no matter how long they threw verbal punches, luke’s expression never faltered. a mannequin in some haunted parlour with his plastic smile. responding to the words camille said, but showed no recognition of what those words held. 

perhaps every word really was planned ahead. the confidence he gave off wasn’t an illusion – but camille, even in their defiance, played the script exactly how we wanted it. 

his words carried on, laying out everything they had observed from milo. truth be damned – luke sinclair had a story to tell. one with ulterior motives, of course. he was not a concerned friend. he did not care about sneaking behind camille’s back until it turned out to be something he could profit from. 

camille found her footing as she rose from where they had been sitting, cigarette crushed under her shoe – much like they wished could be done to the boy droning on in front of her. a moment of stillness follows, eyes studying for what she planned to do. a repeat of the night before ? leaving him alone in the woods ? 

no. they step forward, but it’s not to leave. it’s closing the small distance between them. reaching out to touch him. 

luke’s shirt bunched in her fist, drawing him in closer. the smirk on his lips proved the thought going through his head. he had won. camille’s lips inches away, a shared breath – but she had never been the type to accept defeat.

not a kiss, but a warning. 

“ i swear to god, if you don’t shut the fuck up . . . ” each word undermined by laughter. he found it funny. of course he did. though he couldn’t get his hands under camille’s shirt, it was obvious his words had burrowed themselves under her skin. 

perhaps it would have been an achievement if their skin was half as thick as they pretended. 

they were tough. they had to be considering the life they had lived, but above all, camille was sensitive. fragile like a bomb. the digital click of each second counting down was almost audible in the way they snapped. “ shut the fuck up, ” repeated, as if this would be the time it stuck. “ and leave me the fuck alone. liza, too. ” 

no matter what situation he would find himself in, luke would always find a way to be cocky. it was in his eyes, his grin. in his posture refusing to cower even in camille’s grip. “ and why would i do that ? ” it was in the smug tone of voice that taunted camille. 

you will not win. 

camille was not a winner. they would give blood, sweat, and tears ; lucky to even runner up in a competition of two. the only time camille had ever come out on top was when the ortesky’s buried their mother instead of her. once there was no one left to compete against. 

“ cause i’ll end you. ” they didn’t let his shirt go, but rather pushed him away. as if he had been the one to threaten her life. perhaps he had called out something to get the last say from where they left him on the ground, but camille couldn’t hear a thing. ears full of white noise, seeing nothing but red. 

coming back to camp, even if it was the same shit hole she had fled for some peace before, was a relief. the lack of footsteps trailing behind her seemed to remove all evidence of the blow up with luke ever happening. 

they didn’t walk back together. 

there would be no hushed conversations of speculation. no justifying things to eliza. the idea of repeating back horrible things he had said. a possibility of her agreeing with the accusations against milo ? likely, her ego would prevent that, but it wasn’t a risk they could take. 

slipping under the radar, stealing milo away for a skinny dipping rendezvous. anything to silence the noise, bridge the gap of that morning. likely no more than a temporary fix. of course, camille knew that. temporary was better than nothing. better than the invisible smoke that threatened to suffocate. 

when it was just the two of them, she could pretend things were fixed. swimming after each other, splashing around, lips against the curve of her neck. a smile mending a fracture milo might not have even been aware of. despite not being handed an instruction manual, he seemed to know every step to take. 

until the sun had settled itself behind the mountains and they could no longer pretend they were timeless. there was a campfire with their names on it. of fucking course there was. 

her clothes pulled back on, clinging to still wet skin while listening to milo rattling off excuses they could give for not showing up. laughter clear in their tone until camille finally spoke. “ i think it’s a little late to use that one. ”

but the teasing seemed to come with revelation that they didn’t actually know what the time was. beyond the setting sun. milo’s phone just happened to be the closest. as soon as their hand had closed around the device, milo’s hand mimicked on their wrist. far from tight, but shock and confusion immediately loosened their grip. the phone landing back on the ground with a thud. luckily, it wasn’t too far of a fall. 

as camille yanked their hand back, and to their surprise, milo’s attention was fixed on snatching the phone back up. held tightly in their grip. every word luke had tried to etch into her skull – every word she thought she had done so well to not absorb, seemed to be flashing before her. 

“ what the actual FUCK, milo ? ” she snapped, obviously not letting the freak moment they had before pass. salt rubbed into the fresh wound when he simply answered with the time. phone against their chest as if it would keep his heart beating. 

luke seemed to have all the details of milo’s sneaking readily available, and camille couldn’t imagine them reacting that same way towards luke. the natural conclusion would be that he was told. not a game of chinese whispers, but bro talk with milo. 

and you didn’t talk about that without talking about the why. perhaps it was trauma pushing itself to the forefront of her mind, but they seemed convinced on one ‘logical explanation’. 

“ are you – ? ” it started as a question, but the flicker of something camille assumed to be guilt in milo’s eyes quickly changed that. as if they could confess to something that hadn’t even been asked. 

“ you’re fucking cheating on me. ”

“ no, it’s not that. ” it was quick, almost readily prepared. anything could be a warning sign when they’re all you’re looking for. while many used rose tinted glasses to wave away red flags, camille created them. 

white flag raised in surrender washed in blood. 

“ it’s – don’t worry about it. ” milo’s anxiety was infectious, feeding camille’s insecurities. her mother had shown disloyalty before. it was all she knew for the longest time, but she knew she didn’t want that for herself. 

and she really thought she had ended up with different. something messy and flawed, but devoted. he had thrown it away with one stupid mistake. one? multiple? camille didn’t want to know. 

there was nothing more than a ‘go fuck yourself’ thrown in milo’s directions before leaving them there naked and alone. 

gaze still avoided when they were at the bonfire they had been trying to get out of just before everything exploded. eliza being the only reason camille showed their face at all. 

something that wasn’t ideal until reeve’s fist made contact with luke. something that camille honestly wished they had gotten to first. entertained, envious – there was no attempt to hide her reaction amidst the chaos. 

it was a temporary distraction from everything else. 

and, fuck, if camille wasn’t grateful luke had decided to lick his wounds somewhere other than the cabin she would know to find him at – because she couldn’t deny herself what could’ve happened when the boredom crept in. 

they were mad at milo, and their own wounds that needed tending to. it could be ignored when everyone had been cheering and yelling around the blazing flames. the stillness of the cabin, however, seemed to amplify. 

so they laid with their head on eliza’s lap, manicured nails running through hair as camille nodded along to whatever story or criticism of milo finally being freed with their break up. the kind of moment that would be swept under the rug when they got back together. something camille swore would never happen again. 

[yaoi-hate-machine]

help i’m kind of taken with a charming man who is 11 years older than me

[luciality]

i miss being hikineet life was less miserable then.

[lctibule]

thinking i'm gonna change up my carrd template for this blog... bc i'd like to be able to provide at least a little more information for everyone (including the selective muses)... but i'm trying to convince my brain to do a little writing first asjkds

[swordmaid]

thalia is so growing on me i love my rich woman who has Problems.. i gave her ice powers for like. the elsa vibes.

[my-thirteenth-reason]

kicking my feet and giggling (<- just got apologised to)

[error-core-animations]

haha it's so awesome that Qi Xiaotian is like. canonically romance averse and implied to be nonpartnering. and everyone respects that. it's so awesome that nobody ignores that part of his character for a ship that kinda sucks. right.