#you know you sent a good ask if i wrote a genuine essays’s worth of words in response lol

[goldensunset]

So the more I’m thinking about it, I realized I love each member of the destiny trio individually, (and Sokai of course), but I feel like they're not really the best, most cohesive trio at the moment. I think maybe Wayfinder trio actually is the best, most cohesive, functional trio right now? Anyway.

I’m wondering if maybe the weirdness between the destiny trio in kh3 was intentional, and not the result of rushed development or something, as I keep assuming. Because they took the time to give every other trio special moments, but we didn’t get anything like that for SKR. Even the very last scene in the game mirrors the paopu scene: it’s sora and Kairi alone, and Riku separate from them. He's smiling, he's happy for them, but still, it's a clear separation of Sora and Kairi from everyone else, and Riku especially. I feel like remind could have been an opportunity for them to give even one memory or flashback or moment between the three if they wanted. It just feels like the devs only ever put sora and Riku together (like the ending of kh2, or ddd), or sora and Kairi (end of kh1, end of kh3/remind), but not all three anymore (secret ending of kh1 with the letter in the bottle). Sora vanishes sitting alone with kairi. At the end of the credits, the final image is the one of her and sora on the tree. Look at remind, it’s Kairi on the title screen. And like, if it were a fluke of 3’s development, why did it persist in Melody of memory? They could have had Yen Sid tell Kairi to stay home. The fact that it was riku just hurts so much more.

I don’t really have an answer but I just wanted your thoughts. Is this so they’ll reconcile later? Or as Nomura said in that interview:

"Nomura hopes its depiction of their bonds can offer a realistic sense of how friendships evolve and change over time. "{Kingdom Hearts is] not too realistic, but I do want my players to grasp a sense of reality from it as well," Nomura said. "For example, I'm sure you had friends when you were young, a good group of friends, but as you grow older things change and it doesn't always stay the same. I think all I can say is please play to the very end and see what happens. But I think [Kingdom Hearts 3] does depict how each character feels about each other in this new storyline."

It's intentionally vague, but like, does that mean the trio is coming apart? is it just sora and kairi getting closer from here on out? I just don’t know what the series looks like if they’re estranged from here on out. But to be honest, I sort of felt like sora and Riku weren’t even getting along that well in 3. It was weird almost bullying at times against sora. But they did have that ���you don’t believe that” moment too, so idk man. Am I just reading way too much into this (probably)? Also, do you REALLY think they might be setting up a Kairi protag arc, or are we being set up to he let down again? I want her to be equal to/save her boys so bad, but it’s hard to hope for it after MoM…

sorry for this stupid long ask, but I would love to hear your thoughts :) also when you said "I risk my life every time I say it but riku's arc is done" I really felt that

*cracks knuckles* aight it’s time

*sniffles* so i didn’t know about that interview where nomura said that… *lies down definitely not crying* might explain a lot…

man i…i’m torn. like a part of me thinks kh should ultimately come back to the destiny trio as a group of friends because from the beginning they were established as the main characters. and to lose sight of that is to lose sight of kh’s heart. play up the nostalgia factor for the first game back when it was so simple and magical. something something disney magic power of friendship everything should work out in the end. it’s a feel-good fantasy where the power of love can always save everyone.

the other part of me…thinks exploring this concept of growing apart from old friends is very good. very painful, for sure. but who says disney should be all sunshine and smiles all the time? change and pain are part of life. and kids aren’t idiots. they’re no strangers to sadness. narratives that can handle this without making it awful and grim are very touching and valuable. but i would love for this specific type of pain to be addressed because it’s an issue very near and dear to my own heart.

my first ever friends that i knew and loved when we were toddlers are all gone from my life now. and from what i hear they’re completely different people now, people i would never want to be friends with. plenty more people have come and gone since, and i get debilitating anxiety about the relationships i still have, just in case i’m a hair’s breadth away from another fallout or distancing. the truth of it is that you can’t take anything for granted in life.

when you’re that close with someone, you think it’s gonna last forever. because you love them now, right? why would you ever stop? you want to live in the disney movie forever. you want the credits to roll and have everything freeze. when you get older, you want to live in the past because the past is comforting. but the truth of the matter is, it isn’t a reality anymore. and it hurts to open your eyes and acknowledge the evidence that things have changed.

as you’ve said, the destiny trio are certainly the least cohesive trio at the moment. i don’t think anyone can argue otherwise. which is ironic, given how in the past, they were the only ones who got to come back to each other, while the others were tragically separated. in and after kh3, the opposite happens. the wayfinder and sea salt trio reunite, while the destiny trio have drifted apart.

but the issue isn’t merely their physical separation. something has changed internally. too much has happened for them to go back to being the simple island kids they used to be. you could pluck sora out of quadratum tomorrow and give him right back to his friends but their reunion would mean next to nothing if the three of them didn’t do some soul searching individually.

which is why i’m hoping that they actually don’t rescue him right away. if he had to spend some time alone, and probably meet up with the new and strange folks in quadratum far away from anything or anyone familiar, he could reflect on his life and grow as a person. it’d be like in kh1 right after losing kairi riku and his home. sora was kinda mistreated in kh3 and made to feel like he was nothing on his own. the ‘my friends are my power’ thing really isn’t cute anymore if he’s saying it because he hates himself. our boy is strong and he deserves more respect!!!

like on the one hand if his friends came to rescue him it would be a nice demonstration of how much they care about him, esp after all he’s done for them. healers need healing too. on the other hand if he had to save himself he’d prove his worth once and for all and they couldn’t bully him by calling him useless on his own anymore (they never should’ve been doing that in the first place!!)

and it would be especially boring if it was literally just riku the hero saving him yet again. (*gets killed by majority of followers*) DDD already gave us ‘mister obsession and abandonment issues coolguy riku saves useless naïve clownboy sora’. i’ll put up with it once bc good for riku but i won’t put up with it again. it should be kairi, or riku and kairi, or the entire main cast. like maybe riku jumps in alone and kairi and/or the others have to jump in after him and have their moment to shine. at some point kairi’s like ‘ok now i REALLY have had enough of this’ and abandons her training to go after the boys (this is how kairi stans post-mom can still win-)

and if they all reunited after all this, having done some soul-searching? could they ever be the same? of course they could still be friends. but i really feel that we’ve crossed a point of no return for them. the other trios have changed as individual people, sure, but their group dynamic is the same as always. at this point, though, the destiny trio as we knew it in kh1 has all but dissolved. i wonder if any of them have started to think about this or not, to question what they still mean to each other in the context of their new lives and new friends. because when a relationship starts to dissolve, it might take a while to notice it, and a very long while to acknowledge it. and sometimes you can reform it into something new, but sometimes you have to let it go.

and i do think we’re moving towards sokai and i want that for them bc they deserve to be together at last but also like. having riku awkwardly third wheel is kinda?? i want to see him loving and being loved by sora and kairi too. he’s their best friend too. or at least he’s supposed to be. (truth is there was always tension in the group i think. oh the problems with a love triangle. they’ve kinda never really been a cohesive trio but that’s an essay for another day.) even if things aren’t the way things were when they were little anymore, there is absolutely no way riku can fade into irrelevance.

if i had to guess i’d say they’re probably gonna resolve this by writing naminé into a love interest for riku. which i wouldn’t mind if they like. did it really really well? they’d have to give her lots of great screentime first. but -understatement of the century incoming- it’s gonna make a lot of people really angry and i fear being on the internet that day lol. (plus there’s just the question of what group should naminé be a part of? should we really turn any trio into a quartet and alter the dynamic of the bonds that have been around for years? but she needs her own place to go and aaaahhhhh. girl has had so many different one-off 5-minute boyfriends lol)

this is a very long post uhhmm in conclusion:

they should all remain a part of each other’s lives forever in some way but it’s ok that things aren’t the way they used to be. the past is full of lovely memories but you can’t live in it forever. it hurts to think about but separation and/or change are part of life and i’d love to see them address the reality of this painful topic.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Styles. || 15

Authors Note:  Hey everyone!! I know it has been a while since I have updated, but I wanted to pop in and say hi, I am back. I intend to do my best to start writing again and to start where I left off at. I have missed Elise and Harry’s story so much, but I needed the break. With that being said, I am back and doing my best to get back to writing their story. Bare with me as it has always been hard for me to end stories, hence why this one is still kicking. I have a strong connection with the story and I just want to keep writing, so here I am. I hope you all love their story as much as I do. Anyway, I hope you are all well and continue to read my work. xx 

For previous chapters, click HERE.

First. Book : Styles and Co

Second Book : Styles’ Towers. 

Third Book : The Rise Of Glory.

Styles & Co. || Extras.

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Wouldn’t It Be nice.

My apartment is quiet as I type away at my laptop, attempting to stay focused on my essay with a pounding headache. I have hardly slept the last few nights, and I have been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Balancing school and work have proven to be extremely troublesome, but I do not regret my decision one bit to take up Jamie’s proposal. I am incredibly appreciative of the opportunity, even if I manage to get an hour or so of sleep a night.

I landed Jamie the clients and completed the meetings as requested, and successfully redesigned one of the portfolios— it has all been worth it. It will one day pay off to only sleep a few hours.

I massage my temples before the sound of my apartment door opening takes my attention. I turn around immediately, almost plummeting to my feet before nonchalantly recognising it’s Elise and not my worst nightmare. Ever since my father appeared at my apartment that one night, I have been on edge, not to mention I also don’t want Logan coming to my apartment. “Hey,” I half-smile towards her as she closes the door behind her and propels me the apartment keys.

I catch the keys in my hands, “Good to know you’re alive, Harry,” Elise’s commentary takes me by surprise as I kiss her cheek, and she moves away from me.

She’s exasperated.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” I immediately challenge, “What’s with handing me the keys?” I dangle the keys in my hand.

Elise raises her brow and crosses her arms over her chest, “What’s wrong?” Elise scoffs, “Harry, you haven’t spoken to me in two weeks, not sure if we are even together.”

“What? Sweetheart, I called you the other night before I fell asleep.”

Elise shakes her head, “You haven’t called. I got a text from you, but it said my name, and that was all,” Elise responds, showing me her phone, proving that she is, in fact, correct.

Fuckity-fuck-fuck.

“Oh,” I trail off, feeling like a horrible person… “I’m so sorry.”

And the award for worst boyfriend, once again, goes to me. How wonderful. At this point, I may as well keep an honorary speech on hand. Damnit.

“Harry… if you don’t want to be with me—“

“Darling,” I begin, “I thought I called you the other night… I swear I even texted you today when I woke up,” I assure her, clutching my phone from my table and clicking her messages.

The messages are somewhere here. I know there’s some sort of logical explanation. I remember distinctly. I texted her.

My heart drops, and I shake my head, dissatisfied with myself, “I uh… I never hit send… I never realised that the texts I did send never delivered,” I show her my screen of undelivered text messages and a message from this morning I never sent. “I look like an ass.”

Elise snickers and nods her head, “What else is new?” She jokes, and I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes and grin at her. However, she may be joking; deep down, she and I both know that there’s some truth to the joking matter. I’m an ass, and I can openly admit it.

“I know it is no excuse, but I’m dead tired and busy. I wasn’t trying to blow you off or forget you. I genuinely thought I had called and texted you… Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You still want to be with me?”

“I’m sorry you even doubt my intentions. Of course, I do. Not sure you feel the same about me.”

It has never been my intentions for her to have to doubt whether I want to be with her. I want to be with her, one-hundred and ten per cent. She’s the woman I aspire to spend my time with. It’s too early to say this, but I want to spend my life with her. We aren’t ready for marriage, but she is the one I want to come home to every night. She’s the one with who I want to grow and build a life.

“I know you’re tired and swamped, but I did feel like you didn’t want to be with me,” Elise confesses.

I nod my head, considering her feelings and how I may have made it seem like I don’t give a damn. “That’s me just being an ass who is struggling to get everything done. Can I make it up to you?”

“How?” Elise demands.

I can imagine she is tired of hearing whether I can make it up to her. I’m tired of hearing it, too. I sound like a broken record, which isn’t my intent, but I am doing my best. My best isn’t good enough, and I know this, but I will do better. I will do what it takes to make her feel valued. I don’t want her ever to have to question my intentions or love for her.

“Stay the night with me. I’ll go to work and come back at around eight before you have to be up. I’ll bring coffee and breakfast… if you like?” I suggest, unsure of how to make things up to her. Dinner and flowers are too cliche, and I have already promised her that. Right now, all I can do is breakfast, and I physically don’t have time for anything else until the weekend.

Elise nods her head and agrees, “Can you maybe try to remember that I’d like a text or a call, so I know you’re alive?”

“I’ll do my best. I’m sorry, baby, I am,” I step closer and kiss her cheek before giving her a warm hug.

I need to make it up to her, and I need to show her I care and want to be with her. She deserves better than a boyfriend who forgets to press send on a text message. It may not be a big deal to some, it was a genuine mistake, but I feel horrible for not realising I hadn’t spoken to Elise. I feel as though I neglected my duties as a boyfriend to make sure she is okay and feel valued and wanted. It is the small things that can make a difference in a relationship.

Elise hasn’t asked for much; she wants my time and effort, which I will give her to the best of my ability.

❈ ❈ ❈

I feel a tender touch to my shoulders, and I draw myself away from my sleeping state. I open my eyes and groggily glance around. Fuck, I fell asleep on my laptop. “You fell asleep,” Elle informs me, her hand massaging soothing circles on my back.

I nod my head and sigh. I touch my fingers to my temple and rub them slowly, “I have the worst headache, and this is due in an hour,” I gesture towards my computer screen that is only making my headache graver.

“Would you like me to finish it for you?” Elise kindly offers.

“Do you even know what I am writing about?” The words leave my lips without me thinking twice about how they sound.

“Don’t be a condescending ass, Harry,” Elise mutters.

I heavily sigh and nod my head, “I’m sorry. Do you know about this,” I motion towards my laptop that has my composition mostly completed? I am not sure if I am nearly finished or not.

“Harry, I can use the literature as a framework to sum up your essay, unless you don’t trust I have the intelligence to do so?” Elise answers, annoyed with me still.

I do not blame her for being irritated with me, After all, I have unintentionally blown her off, and now I am making her believe she is not intelligent, which was not my purposes. I know she is brilliant. She may not be as into the business world as I am, but she is one hell of a writer. Elise is excellent with essays and literature. “And don’t forget, I have to take business, so I do know the basics,” Elise notifies me, and I bow my head.

“Again, I am sorry, Elle,” I apologise, “Be my guest, have at it,” I move my chair, and Elise rests beside me, immediately beginning to read what I have written.

“For someone who is great at business, you have a lot of errors,” Elisse chuckles, nudging me lightly. I nod my head and hum.

“Business major, not an English major, also wrote that with a headache and no sleep,” I mumble before I rest my arms on the desk and place my head to lean in my arms, closing my eyes and falling in and out of sleep while Elise types away. “Harry,” Elise taps me.

I hum my acknowledgement, “Hey, what is the main conclusion you want to be emphasised?”

“Baby, I don’t care,” I murmur tiredly, “Just write whatever sounds good, just don’t fail me,” I continue.

“Great, so I will conclude on valuation and whether to rely on an algorithm or on an ad-hoc analysis,” Elise confirms.

“Sounds good,” I admit, grappling with concentrating, my eyes stinging and my head spinning. “I trust you, darling,” I drowsily mumble, prompting to rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes again and drifting off to sleep.

❈

It isn’t long before I am woken, and it feels like only moments have passed where I was put at ease and managed to get a few moments of relaxation. “Hey, Harry, hey, sweetheart,” Elise gradually and benevolently tears me from my sleep, and I lift my head off her shoulder, brushing my eyes as I attempt to focus on her. “It’s done; you need to just go to bed.”

I groggily come to terms with my surroundings, regarding that Elise has finished my paper, “What time is it? I still have work to do,” I shake my head, remembering the collection of work I need to finish. I need to establish a fundamental algorithm for one of my clients, and I still need to figure out a way to balance Elise’s sister’s portfolio that was due the weekend of her wedding. Still, Jamie put it on hold due to her antics and marriage. With Elouise getting married, there is a chance she could venture to combine assets with her husband, but if he is intelligent, he won’t let her encounter any of his assets. I would not combine anything with her. There is a time and a place to consolidate things, and a new marriage is not the time. They have not established boundaries, nor have they demonstrated the true meaning behind the wedding. I think Elouisa married for money, point-blank.

“It’s one, and we are going to bed. You’re not working yourself to death,” Elise informs me, closing down my emails and shutting my laptop.

“Elle, I have to send it and —“

“I already sent it. You owe me, by the way,” Elise smiles, standing up from her position and taking my hand, dragging me with her.

Elise and I wander towards the hallway, “Add it to my tab,” I chuckle, “Tell ya what… I’ll get breakfast in the morning, and this weekend I’ll take you to a nice dinner,” I inform Elise, aware that she deserves more than what I’ve given her lately. I’m not sure how she hasn’t thrown in the towel and told me to go fuck myself.

“That would be nice,” Elise accepts as we step into my bedroom, and I waste no time taking my shirt off and launching it to the corner. This is the earliest I have managed to crawl into bed, and if it weren’t for Elise, I’d still be awake, perching at my computer and making my headache ten times worse.

“Thank you for finishing my paper,” I grasp a t-shirt from my drawer while Elise draws back the covers of my bed, “I appreciate it,” I assure Elise, handing her a t-shirt for her to wear to bed.

“Ignore me again for a week or two, and I won’t be so nice,” Elise responds, taking the shirt from my hands. I nod my head, and I don’t expect her to be friendly and forgiving when I fuck up and act like an arse. I need to be held accountable. Elise leans up and kisses my cheek before caressing her hands to my chest, “You’re hot.”

“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood for compliments.”

“Moron,” Elise rolls her eyes, “You’re warm,” she caresses her hands to my cheeks, “Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Mhm,” I hum, “I get migraines after a long period with little sleep,” I shrug my shoulders, not too concerned about things, “It happens like once every few months.”

“Has it ever occurred to you to sleep?” Elise challenges with a touch of sass to her tone of voice.

Sleep would be delightful, but I have too much on my plate.

“It has,” I laugh, “But I don’t have enough time for that.”

“How are you not miserable right now?”

“I am,” I respond, “I just know I have to deal with it. Are we going to continue talking about my lack of sleep and terrible migraine, or are we going to sleep for a few hours?” I question, moving to my side of the bed and crawling between my sheets.

In all fairness, I am miserable. I feel like utter shit, my head is pounding, any sort of light burns my eyes, and it feels like I’m just being clobbered with a club.

“A few hours?” Elise seems surprised at my comment.

I only have a few hours to spare, nothing more, nothing less.

I nod my head, “I have work at six, so yes, a few hours.”

“Surely you’re not getting up?”

“I have to, Elle,” I sigh, “I can’t afford not to.”

In all honesty, I don’t want to get up in a few hours, I’d love nothing more than to sleep in and allow my migraine time to dwindle off, but I can’t. The world doesn’t stop because I’m unwell or for any reason. My mother’s bills still necessitate to be paid, meetings still need to take session, and my school work still needs attending. I don’t get sick days. I don’t get to sleep in. It’s nothing against Elise, but I’m not lucky enough to get to have a few additional hours of sleep as she can.

“You’re wearing yourself too thin.”

“I have to.”

“Can’t I help?”

“You have; you finished my paper for me. That’s more than enough.” I smile towards Elise, kissing her, sweetly, “Thank you for your help.” I kiss her again before stepping away and moving to my side of the bed.

It is not Elise’s responsibility to help my situations. These are my problems to deal with, and she has enough to worry about on her own. I do not wish to burden her with my issues, nor do I wish for her to have to deal with anything more than she already needs to. I don’t want to scare her away, and I don’t want to risk letting her help me and then leaving me because it is too much to handle. I can handle things on my own… I think.

❈ ❈ ❈

The drive to Elise’s parent’s house has been nothing but full of anxiety. I have no reason to be anxious, but I am. I haven’t stepped foot back in the house since the weekend I met her parents. Ever since, I have kept all meetings with the parents in public places. The gates to the private estate open, and I drive up the driveway, parking next to Elise’s car before turning my car off. I sit in the driver’s seat, taking a deep breath as I take in my surroundings. One day I will be able to afford such an extravagant house like this, but for now, I will settle with my tiny apartment and non-glamorous lifestyle.

I get out of my car and close the door. I make the short walk along the perfect cobble pathway towards the door. Everything about the estate is immaculate, from the gardens to how the Autumn door wreath sits flawlessly aligned. Although the leaves are shifting to magma-reds, hot-oranges and fever-yellows, not a single leaf is on the ground— the groundskeeper but be astonishing at his job. The barbecue-red leaves hang soundlessly on the trees, and I can't help but glance up and watch in awe, curious as to whether one will fall and wreck the pure aesthetic the Cartier’s have going on. I shake my head and chuckle to myself before walking up the steps. I stand before the double doors and adjust my shirt, making sure my collar is suitable, and my shirt is not creased. I take a breath and knock on the door.

After a few moments, the door opens, “Well, it’s about time you show up,” Conrad, Elise’s dad, comments with a grin, “I thought you were bringing the liquor?” Conrad questions as he opens the door wider and allows me to step into the house.

I shake his hand, “Hello, and no sir, I did not bring the liquor. Next time I will bring you a bottle,” I respond as we shake hands.

I was unaware that it was now customary for me to bring liquor. I shall be prepared for next time. Hopefully, this time, I will not feel as though I do not belong here or that I am not good enough for Elise. Although our last gathering at the house was far from what I had hoped, ever since that day, her parent’s and I have gotten closer and gotten along. Conrad has realised I am not here for the money, and I do not want any special treatment in the business world. I want to make it on my own with my name, not theirs.

“Elise is at the kitchen table, finishing another essay.”

“She has had quite a few to do,” I nod my head.

“While she finishes, care to have a drink with me?”

“Uh, sure,” I agree, following Conrad into the living room and standing by him as he picks up his decanter set and begins to pour a glass.

“Question for you… Would you consider working for me?”

I shake my head, “All due respect, no. You’re my girlfriend's father, and I do not want to make things awkward. I am also quite happy at Jamie’s company.”

“Damnit, Jamie got a good one. Okay, fair… Well, I would like to have lunch with you and talk business one day this week, just to get to know you more.”

“I can do Thursday?” I suggest, “I leave Thursday night to travel with Jamie.”

“I guess that will do,” Conrad nods his head, “Where are you going?”

“We are going to LA.”

“My brother and I need to talk more. I am leaving for LA next week. We could have tag-teamed clients.”

I chuckle and shrug, “That is between the two of you. Do you not worry about competing with each other for clients?”

“No, we have boundaries.” Conrad shakes his head just as Elise wanders in and welcomes me.

She kisses my cheek and beams towards her father, taking a prompt sip of my drink before asking us about our conversation, and of course, rolling her eyes at me when she is told we are discussing business.

❈ ❈ ❈

After a brief moment at Elise’s parent’s house, I was enlightened that we would be setting sail on the River Thames. I had no idea that today's adventures entailed such a journey. I was under the impression it would be a relaxing day at the house— I was mistaken. I did not anticipate spending part of the day on a yacht. I did not know Conrad owned a yacht.

I knew Elise’s family was wealthy, but I did not think they were this prosperous. Elise doesn’t show nor act that she has a very elite lifestyle. She never once mentioned that her father had a yacht. It makes me wonder what the fuck else they have that I have no clue about. After all, Elise has an investment that is almost worth a million dollars— and somehow, she is still asking me for investment help and assistance with the stock market.

“Harry,” Conrad begins as he hands me a glass of some sort of alcohol, “I believe I owe you an apology,” Elise’s Dad begins, taking me by surprise.

I look at him and nod, waiting for him to give me some sort of explanation. I am not sure what he owes me an apology on, but I am willing to listen to him. “I didn’t give you a fair chance when I first met you months ago. I thought you were hanging around for a business opportunity. I know that way of thinking was wrong. I should not have assumed.”

I don’t blame Conrad for not being open to his daughter dating someone who does not come from the same upbringing as she did. I didn’t have a gorgeous house with perfect gardens. I didn’t have the luxuries she had and still has; I grew up with everything I needed and not much more. My mother couldn’t afford luxuries, and she still can’t. One day, I do hope to give my mother the amenities she deserves. I want to be able to fix her house up the way she wants it and buy her a nice car that she doesn’t need to worry about, whether it will break down on her drive to the grocery store. I didn’t grow up anywhere near close to the same lifestyle as Elise, so I understand the judgement on Conrads end. Every father wants the best for their daughter, and I might not have much money or much to offer her materialistically, but I can give her my time and love— I personally think that is better than anything anyone could buy her. One day, I will buy Elise the things she deserves. One day I will buy her the bracelets and the necklaces, all the things women love to receive. But for now, all I can offer Elise is my devoted time and love.

I accept Conrad's apology, “Sir, I want nothing more than to give her all the great things she is used to, but for now��� All I have is myself. I can’t give her expensive dinners and diamonds. I can barely get her flowers, I will be honest, but I can give her my time, effort, and love. I care for your daughter a lot… To be honest, I am in love with her,” I begin to speak sentences before thinking about them. Part of me wants to stop sounding so soft, but the other part knows that Conrad needs to know my true intentions with Elise, “I may never be able to afford a yacht like this,” I gesture to the space around us, “And I may be dirt poor, but I will never be the man my father was, and believe me, that means more to me than anything materialistic I could give her. She will never have to worry about whether I love her. She will never have to worry about where her next meal will come from or whether she will be alone… I will put her first, I will put her before myself, and I will treat her the way a lady should be treated.”

Being a man and being the complete opposite of my father is what I strive for in life, aside from being a CEO. I have learnt what a man is and what a man is not. I have learnt the difference between a deadbeat husband and a real husband. I will not be the man my father was; I will worship the ground Elise walks on, and I will do everything in my power to make sure she is taken care of in every way. Like I have said, I might not ever get to give her mansion with the most beautiful art hung on the walls she could imagine, but she will know that every time I walk through that door, that I am coming home to her. Elise knows that I am the one she can call at any hour with any problem, I will always be there for her, and I will support her in all her decisions. I am aware that we may fight and argue over stupid shit. Hell, we will even fight over things that aren’t stupid, but I wouldn’t want to fight with anyone else at the end of the day. We will have our moments where we want to strangle each other. I know the time is coming, and I know there will be times she won’t want to speak to me or times where I have fucked up, but that is the beauty of a relationship— you grow together, and you learn.

I don’t plan to give up when the going is tough. I will not leave her in the dark and call it quits because things might not get any easier for us financially. I may run from many things when it gets tough, I may bury myself in work in school when I don’t want to deal with personal issues, but I will do my best not to run from her— from us.

“You don’t speak of your father. May I ask why?”

I grow withdrawn for a moment, unsure of what to say. I have managed to avoid my father’s issue for most of the relationship with Elise, but I know at some point I will have to tell her a few things. I would much prefer to discuss how Conrad succeeded in his business to the point he owns a yacht and can sail on the River Thames with a skipper and crew. I wonder if he even bought the dock as well that he docks at. I shake my thoughts away, remembering I have been asked a question about my father. “He isn’t in my life.”

“You mentioned that,” Conrad nods.

“My father is not what I would call a man. He is just someone who is a waste of space in society.”

“That’s a bit harsh, Harry.”

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “All due respect, but that is nothing compared to the things he has done and said to my sister and myself,” I respond, not trying to sound like a prick. I don’t like having conversations about my Father. He is not worth my time or energy. I should have just told them the has is dead. In all fairness, he is dead to me. “He was an alcoholic. I don’t like to get in detail about him.”

Conrad nods his head and respects my decision of not wanting to speak much of my father. Conrad takes a sip of his drink, and I finally do the same, allowing the whiskey to give me a sense of ease. “Elise told me that you had been the one paying to keep your mother’s house?”

I nod my head, “Yes, sir… Mum lost her job and my sister…. Well, she is going through an emotional breakdown and struggling herself,” I admit, unsure of how much detail Elise has told her parents.

“I have a lot of respect for you, Harry.”

“Why?” I curiously ask.

Conrad leans forward and places his drink down at the table, “You are helping your mother and working night and day plus doing your masters, and you have not complained once.”

“I think I have complained,” I shake my head.

“Elise has said otherwise. You’re a genuine and modest gentleman, and you seem to put others first… I respect a man who can do his best to provide and not make excuses.”

I am not sure what to say. If I didn’t go to work and do what I do, my mother and sister would be on the streets. Someone had to step up and do what needed to be done. I would never forgive myself if my mother lost her house. The house may be small in comparison to what Conrad has, but it is still a home. It is the place my sister and I grew up in. It is the place my mother worked hard to maintain to the best of her ability. “I’d do it all over again if I had to,” I shrug, not really in the mindset that this is something that I should be praised for. I don’t need praise for stepping up. I just want my family to be happy and healthy.

“You’re a good man. I see that,” Conrad nods, finally cracking a small smile, “I don’t think I would want my daughter dating anyone else.”

I stifle a laugh and shake my head, “Give it time. I am sure Elise will tell you I am an asshole.”

“We all are assholes at some point. It’s more so common with people like us.”

“People like us?”

“We are businessmen, and we are born to lead and be assertive. Sometimes that crosses over into being an asshole. Do you know how many times my wife has called me every name under the sun? Or how many times she has told me I am being a CEO and need to walk out of the house and adjust my tone before walking back in?” Conrad questions in all seriousness, and I can’t help but chuckle. I can see Elise doing the same thing in the future. “Cathleen does not take my shit, and I don’t think Elise will take it either. She will call you an asshole, and all you can do is learn where the line is drawn between CEO and boyfriend or husband.”

“Elise has already called me an asshole,” I confess, “I deserved it.”

“Half the time, we do deserve it. It’s in our nature, but again, we learn to control it. We better get back to the ladies before they think I have killed you,” Conrad stands to his feet.

I stare at him and raise a brow, “Was that your initial plan, sir?”

“No, but it will be if you call me sir one more time,” Conrad laughs, “My name is Conrad,” Elise’s Dad corrects me, not wanting me to be as formal. I nod my head and stand up, taking my drink with me before we climb the stairs, leaving the cabin area and stepping back out into the crisp air, Conrad and I parting ways and walking to opposite ends of the yacht.

I make my way around the yacht, amazed by how big the fucking thing is. I know this thing had to have cost more than I can imagine. I smile to myself when I see Elise sitting on a blanket at the yacht’s foredeck with a book in her hand. I watch her for a moment as she is clueless to the world around her, her hair is blowing in the breeze of the slow sails, and her eyes are cast on a book with no intentions of looking away. Most people would be taking pictures or drinking on their father’s yacht. Instead, she is content, reading a book on her own and paying no attention to the rest of the world.

I step closer to where she rests, “Elle,” I call her name from her behind, not wanting to startle her as I walk closer. Elise turns to look at me over her shoulder and smiles that gorgeous smiles of hers.

“I see you made it out alive,” Elise chuckles, keeping her finger in place on her book.

“I did,” I nod, “I see you have your nose in a book.”

“I do,” Elise shows me the cover of the book.

I cock my head to the side and look at the title, “Haven’t you read that before?”

Elise nods and hums her response, “And you are rereading it?” I question.

“It is a good book, Harry. Do you have something against the Great Gatsby?” Elise asks, sounding shocked, almost as if I have insulted her but asking if she is rereading it.

I am not the kind of person to read books twice. I read them the first time, watch the movie and then call it a day. I have never been interested in reading something over and over again, just for the fun of it. I know the ending. I know the plot. Why reread it?

I sit down beside her and drape my arm around her as I kiss the top of her head, “Eh, I won’t lie. I found the book boring.”

“How so?”

“It’s a story about elite society.”

“Is that what you got out of the whole book, Harry?” My response does not amuse Elise.

“No, I don’t like how the book was portrayed. Not one of the characters were good. It isn’t like To Kill a Mockingbird where the book manages to display both the good and the evil inside people.”

“It’s the writing style that makes the book so great. It’s the pros.”

“Yeah, not a literary person, love,” I shake my head, “Anyway,” I trail off, “I have to go to LA for work on Thursday,” I finally tell Elise that I have a business meeting in LA that will take most of my time next week.

“Damn it, Harry,” Elise huffs.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Now, who is going to help me study?” Elise chuckles, causing me to roll my eyes at her.

This woman is something else, that is for sure. “Do you keep me around just to help you study?”

Elise shrugs her shoulders and closes her book, “Also for your good looks, but seriously, I need some help with my China and globalism course.”

“I assume you have a test?”

“Indeed,” Elise nods, “Can I get some help?”

“Sure, we can before I leave, or if you want, we can facetime while I am in LA to help?” I offer, unsure of when the best time will be for her to study. “China Globalism is a blast. You will love it,” I sarcastically add, very aware of the fact that Elise will hate the course. She may be knowledgeable,, but this will be the course that tests her in every way. The fucking course broke me at one point, it was a horrible experience, but it has come in handy with Jamie’s clients. However, I do not foresee this course helping Elise. She doesn’t want to get into this side of the business. She doesn’t even want to be in the business world. Elise has a true passion for English. I know she wants to do something with writing and is only pursuing business for her father.

“I already hate it,” Elise mutters, “So, you will be able to help?”

“Of course,” I agree, “I don’t know why you think I won’t help,” I kiss her cheek as she places her book down on the blanket.

Elise looks at me and pushes her hair behind her ear, “I know you’re busy; that’s why.”

“Mhm,” I hum, “I am going to have to go up to my mother’s sometime soon. Would you like to come with me?” I softly offer, not wanting to make the dreaded drive to Chesire on my own. I don’t want to go up there, but I have to. My mother deserves to see me, even if it is for a few moments.

Elise rests her head on my shoulder, “I would love to,” Elise responds cheerfully, far too cheery to be going to Cheshire. I wish I had her happy demeanour about Cheshire, but I cannot. I can’t even attempt to fake it.

My phone goes off, and I reach into my pocket and grab it. I look down at the screen and bite the inside of my cheek when I see ‘Logan’ pop up on my screen.

I don’t want to deal with him, and I thought I made it quite clear that I want nothing to do with the spawn of satan. My hatred for Logan will probably never subside, so we should have minimal contact, but for some reason, like my father, Logan is determined to cause havoc on my life in every single way possible.

I quickly read the text message, much to my bitter distaste, “Harry, I know you didn’t want to hear from me so soon, but if it’s a 999 situation. — Logan”

I place my phone back in my pocket and stare out at the water in an attempt to find my thoughts. A 999 situation with Logan can only really mean one thing. Blood. The last time it was a 999 situation, I had to swallow my hatred towards him and give him blood. I am not sure why he doesn’t just go to our father for it— but I can’t be petty and scoop to the level of declining him what I believe is primary care. I may hate him, and he may be what I consider the worst thing to happen to my life, but I can’t sit back and not help him with this. Ever since his mother passed away, I have been the one to donate blood to him when he needs it. I don’t remember our ages well, but I know that at around sixteen, his mother died, and up until that point, she was the one who would help him when his health got too poor. Now it is up to me. I could be an asshole and refuse to help him. I could tell him to fuck off and go to our father… But what kind of man would I be to deny someone essential health? What kind of man would I be if I didn’t help someone in need? Most of all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t put my anger and resentment to the side to benefit someone else?

To answer my questions, I would be a selfish prick like my father, and I refuse to be anything like him.

I pull myself back to reality and remind myself that today was meant to be a day of not stressing about things I cannot change or fix. I cannot change the predicaments that happen. I am not in control of them. I am only in control of what I do. When I am done with Elise and her family, I will see what needs to happen with Logan and do what needs to be done.  

[shhh-no-ones-home]

for the road (2/2) steve clark x reader

+++++++++

part 1 part 2

sorry this took so long, like i had mentioned in the other post, our internet cable was cut and it took a few days for it to get fixed. on top of that i had a few essay finals to finish and just didnt have time to get back to this. it is here now though and i hope you all like it!

she edited for the most part but if i missed anything, sorry, lol.

again i dont usually add songs from the artists to their own chapters but i think this one works pretty good with the story so youre getting it anyways lol

Song: stagefright by def leppard

tag list: @cynic-spirit @lifeisabitchandsoareyou

+++++++++

as soon as i turned around from locking the shop there was a taxi outside, parked on the curb with a woman leaning against it. she offered me a smile.

"are you y/n?"

she asked and i nodded.

"the band is waiting for you."

she said opening the door for me. i politely thanked her before sliding in and buckling the seat belt. the car smelled like apples, making me feel much less nervous than before. the ride to the venue was pretty silent though and i watched out the window as we passed by the tall city buildings. as the venue came into view my eyes got wide, i had never actually been to this part of town before. I looked at the venue in awe, it was much larger than the places I usually attended concerts at. the metal gates opened in front of us and she drove in, straight to the back doors. a large man in all black was waiting there with his arms held together in front of him. i was definitely back to being nervous again. he opened the door and peered down at me.

"You here for Steve?"

He asked and I nodded, pulling the ticket out of my pocket and showing it to him.

"yeah uh, he gave me this."

he looked over it before helping me out of the cab.

"Right this way."

He said, hand moving to be placed gently at my back as we walked inside the venue. I was a little unnerved at first, being alone with the man and all but marched along anyways. the halls were brightly lit as we walked, the white concrete shining against the floor tiles. i watched as roadies and crew members walked around us, gaining my attention as the man kept pushing me forward. When he reached a door at the end of the hall I smiled, seeing Steve sat against the couch's arm rest with his guitar in his hand.

"Here we are."

The man said, dropping his hand from my back and standing firmly beside the door. He never looked back at me as I stepped into the room shyly. I waved to the guys before Steve noticed me.

"Y/n!"

He said excitedly, standing and offering me a hug. I gladly took it before he escorted me to sit at the couch.

"Was the ride here alright?"

He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, for the most part. Thanks again for inviting me. I'm excited to see you guys play!"

I said, wide smile on my face.

"I'm happy to hear that, i really hope you like it. we've been working on something new for the set."

i made an impressed face.

"sounds exciting."

then i heard one of them laugh.

"you say that like shes seen our other sets."

he had darker curly hair.

"so?"

steve said sitting a little closer to me, his arm falling behind my back to rest on the couch.

"im sav."

the man offered his hand and i shook it.

"y/n."

steve cleared his throat.

"right, thats rick savage he plays bass, my partner in crime phill collen, plays guitar, rick allen who is our man behind the kit, and of course you already met and talked to joe elliot our lead singer."

they all offered hellos around the room as steve introduced them.

"its nice to officially meet you all, i appreciate you guys coming into the shop earlier. i put the record in the window after you left and six people stopped in to buy a copy."

i joked, making steve laugh lightly.

"happy to help."

sav said. then a man with a clip board and mic around his neck stepped in looking rushed.

"alright guys its time to mic up, its almost show time."

they all nodded before leaving the room one by one to follow the man.

"hey ive gotta go but ill be back right before the show starts so you can come with us to the side of the stage okay?"

i nodded as he stood.

"okay."

he touched my shoulder lightly before walking off. i sighed to myself for a second before getting up and walking around the room. it was super neat. the painted bricks were covered in signatures from all sorts of rock stars. they were littered about in varying colors of permanent marker, some of them with small messages and dates next to them. part of me wondered how long it would take to fill before they had to paint over it or start on a new set of walls. then i heard a knock at the door, it was steve with a guitar now around his neck.

"hey, you ready for the show?"

he asked with a wide smile.

"lead the way."

i said stepping out of the room and following him back down the hallway.

"so i know this isnt exactly date material but how are you so far?"

i let out a short laugh.

"im doing great, this is all fantastic."

he seemed content with that answer as we stepped up to the side of the stage.

"im glad to hear that. if you arent busy afterward would you maybe wanna go get something to eat? before we have to head out?"

i twisted my body a little in excitement, holding my hands in front of me, smiling like an idiot.

"id love that."

he touched my arm gently.

"great!"

i leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly, making him blush.

"alright guys, showtime."

the man who had called them out earlier was back, ushering them into a line.

"ill be here when youre done."

i said, earning a nod from him. i watched as they all ran out one by one, the crowd screaming as the backtrack blared through the speakers. they all just lit up as they began playing, joe speaking into the microphone and asking how the crowd was feeling. it made be giggle, not being to contain my excitement anymore.

°°°°°°°°°

when the set was done steve was quick to get offstage and into a new set of clothes. he was all sweaty under the stage lights during the show so i could understand why. he had grabbed my hand and practically ran with me down the hall and out the back door, making me laugh. when we were in the cab i had arrived in he calmly told the woman where to take us, his arm making its way behind me to hold me around my waist. the drive to the late-night restaurant was filled with small conversation and light smiles, he really was an interesting person. when we pulled up he helped me out of the cab and walked with me on his arm inside.

"two?"

the waitress asked, him nodding and following her to a booth across the diner.

"so, what can i get you two to drink?"

she said, setting the menus down. i looked at her and smiled.

"coffee please."

she nodded and looked to steve who look at me a little curiously.

"two coffees i suppose."

he let out a short laugh before she walked away.

"its a little late for coffee dont you think?"

he asked, looking over the menu. i sent him a look.

"says the person who ordered one as well."

he laughed and shook his head.

"i guess we all have our vices huh?"

i smiled at him, looking over the menu.

"hey, ive been meaning to ask you-"

"you two ready or do you need some more time?"

i looked from steve to her.

"cheese fries please."

i said, handing her the menu as she wrote it down.

"same."

he said with a smile, handing her his menu too. she nodded before walking away.

"now, what was it that you wanted to ask?"

he folded his hands together and leaned into the table, giving me his full attention.

"well i was wondering what the rest of tonight would look like."

i laughed light heartedly.

"its not exactly like you guys are staying here. i know you said it was a date, and i really like you but i dont necessarily wanna have too much fun, ya know?"

he nodded slowly, the waitress bring us our food and us thanking her.

"ive kinda been thinking about that too. and i really like you too and would love for this to happen."

he motioned between the two of us.

"but i dont want to make you wait for me."

i laughed a little bit as i ate.

"i dont think id mind too much. waiting that is, ive been single this long its not like it would be much different."

i joked, making him smile at me as he took a drink.

"so, what? we do this? for real? keep in contact until tour is over and then what?"

i shrugged.

"we make it work."

i said matter-of-factly. he studied my face for a second.

"okay, so we're really doing this."

he said with a wide smile. i nodded.

"i guess we are."

then it hit me.

"oh, here!"

i grabbed one of the survey cards out of the napkin holder and began writing.

"heres the numbers you can reach me at. the top is my house and the bottom is the shop. if you need me ill be at either of those places."

he looked over it before folding it and stuffing it into his pocket.

"hopefully you dont get too tired of me before tour is over."

we both laughed.

"i dont think i will, if you wanna call everyday be my guest. id love to hear about the places you visit. makes my small corner of the world a little bit bigger."

he sent me a genuine, heart melting smile.

"then i will absolutely do that for you y/n."

we both finished our drinks and got up, taking the ticket to the register and him paying the waitress. we said our thanks before climbing back into the cab out front. the drive back to the venue was full of cuddles and soft touches, talking back and forth about what he would be doing and where he would be going in the next couple weeks. it all sounded so interesting and i wished i could go with him. when the cab came to a stop at the back door we both got out, his hands making their way to my waist as i leaned into the car.

"ill be looking forward to seeing you next month."

he said softly, pushing my hair out of my face.

"likewise."

i said back, looking over his face. he seemed so soft. his thumb grazed my cheek before he leaned down and kissed me gently. the moment our lips met i knew that was it. the wait would be worth it for sure. when he pulled away we both sighed as he rested his forehead against mine.

"ill for sure be looking forward to another one of those."

he joked, both of us smiling at each other like a couple of teenagers.

"well then, before we both have to go, heres one for the road."

i said before pushing forward quickly, kissing him again. it was deeper than before as he pulled me into him. i wanted to feel that forever. when the back door creaked open we both pulled away, it drawing his attention as the body guard stood there sternly.

"i guess thats my queue."

he grabbed my hands as he backed up, dropping them as he got further away. i watched him walk to the door, waving back to me before he was ushered inside. i covered my mouth for a second before bouncing up and down with excitement. i could wait a month, if that was the hardest part of this then surely i could handle it. and now i had tour adventure stories to look forward to. i smiled like an idiot as i slid back into the cab, telling her where to take me. i couldnt stop smiling the entire car ride. i couldnt wait for the month to be up.

[savnofilter]

plzz, grow up. youre always complaining about how hard you hav it when there are so much worse that could happening. starvation, illiteracy, bullying, physical abuse, etc. and youre sad bcuz you feel insecure? as a person, youre actually quite mean. people like you make me sick.

You know, if you really had your money at your words you would’ve done this off Anonymous but you’re clearly a pussy ass bitch to do so. Since you think I’m a bitch or an asshole or an asswipe (whichever you’d like to prefer), I just wanted to water your crops and respond to you in that manner. You’re welcome. I will write you an essay since you’re just an angry fan who wants attention.

1. There’s a reason why I haven’t properly stated my reasons for being like I am the way I am, but since you want to be all up in my coochie hairs, this is my business.

- losses in the family.

- stresses of school.

- responsibilities i have to take care of because I can’t just drop out because i “feel insecure”.

- wanting to reach out but my feelings and thoughts are always twisted because I am shit at words/or seen as stupid reasons to be upset.

- legit being called a rape apologist that triggered me from past experiences, sent my already deteriorating mental health into shit hole.

- being body shamed at a place that felt second home at.

- wanting to do my favourite hobby on earth but not being able to do it because I have no energy for it/not wanting to leave my followers hanging who are excited for things and not post at all (which I’ve been doing but I sincerely apologize).

2. What the fuck makes you think I have never struggled before? I am genuinely curious. Because I can write? Because I try to be nice to people on my blog? Because until now I don’t hide that yeah, I’m not in the best place? You’re such an asshole for even trying to invalidate my feelings and its happened way too many times in my life to let someone like you even attempt to do it. Maybe you’re attacking me because I am young. Maybe you’re attacking me because you need to blow off some steam. 

I legit don’t know what your reason is, but YOU need to grow up LMAO like your ass in ANONYMOUS right now kik like whaaaaaat. My cock isn’t yours so hop off it okay? Never called you my slut but you all up in my pussy boy.

3. Also to further my point in bullet one, why is it that I can’t feel insecure? It’s not like I wake up with a mental breakdown not feeling myself on purpose. It’s not like I wake up and go “okay what can I be depressed about today” – because quite frankly if I had the choice guess what? I wouldn’t choose it lmao. 

Just like many artists like Billie Eilish, what’s wrong with admitting that you aren’t okay? Like how is that immature? The first step to the healing process is to know the issue, second step is finding out the root of the problem. Since I know myself, me saying that is basically a forewarning like “my emotions are fucked up at the moment, so I might be an asshole because what the fuck are feelings?”.

And you know what? When you’re often a second choice, or someone shows absolute affection towards you and makes it seem you’re the only one then they do it to everyone else then yeah it does get to you. But from what I’ve read, you’re too much of a pretentious bitch to have ever experienced that and people probably bend to everything you say and that is why you don’t like me. I don’t act the way you want me to. And you were probably the one all up in my inbox asking me age like a creepy bitch like that is none of your flip flacking fucking business (apologies if the anon who asked that isn’t, its weird. dont do it lol).

4. Yeah I make you sick? I’m mean? Since you have not provided any statements nor receipts for me too refute, yeah everyone can be a bitch. I mean just look at you sugar. Anyways, I will be showing the pros and cons of talking to me, so you know, people like you,,, don’t,,,,, get,,,,,, sick,,,,,,,,

pros:

I am nice - unlike popular belief or your opinion and no, not to be cliche. yeah sometimes when i talk its like “… why the fuck would you say that?” because sometimes I just don’t know. So it’s better to tell someone then I’m sitting here like

after it hits the fan.

I am very supportive - bro, you having a hard time? Hold up where is the remaining of my happy energy to give to you! You need a heart meme? Writing piece? Like I got you. Feel like your stuff isn’t worth it? You don’t feel worth it? I got you. Like no cap.

Loyal - you give me the same energy, I vibe it back to you love. That’s all. You shower me in love, I shower you in love. You never forget me or always talk to me, I do the same. It’s how you do it babe.

cons:

there’s a reason why my blog name is “savnofilter” - and imma explain it good. Well here’s a backstory ain’t nobody asked for so here it is. 

So in 7th grade, moved to my new town I live in – shit at first kinda alright now. We had this assignment in our poetry unit, and that was to get the class divided and have a rap battle and whoever won I don’t fucking know got extra credit or some shit (my brain is old at this point, can’t remember shit lol). So in this assignment, we had to make, a rapper name. And I wanted it to be cringey (yes, that was the vocabulary used-). I had to think long and hard because mane I ain’t ever thought of shit like that until my friend was like, “hey, why don’t you go with savage because you say wild things and don’t care” and I was like,,,,, oh shit mane, U RIGHT. Then I was like, that isn’t enough. I need more, more flare. So I dozed off then sat up like “oKAY A CONCEPT THO, HOW ABOUT NO FILTER?! SAvage… No Filter? Saying it out loud sounds like absolute rubbish.” So I had to think again, what name clicks? 

I had already locked in that I have no filter because I don’t give a fuck, so whats next?Sav[redacted]nofilter (blurred because you’d be able to find me somewhere NOT related to writing LMAO). So yeah, because I’m a savage. I genuinely do not care what I am saying. And no, not in a way that I’m saying something insensitive and going “its mah trademark!” its because I don’t care. I’m a savage with no filter.  

If you piss me off or ignore what I’ve said or belittled me – whatever I will not hold back! period! - I dont have much explaining for that but there it is. take it how you will. 

I am piss poor shit at words - I know plenty of you will read this and be like “but u write? 👁️👄👁️”. So you guys know those people who need like a puppet to speak properly, or sing so they don’t stutter? That’s basically me. If it’s not an actual work or anything I can’t comprehendddddd. Then again I’ve learned to just hold on my feelings since I use to be a crybaby and such. I just horde my feelings until they get worse, like now. I’ve now just realized this so I’ll be talking with my therapist into easing me into sharing how I feel. Which furthers my next point -

I have constipated feelings - so, you can say, that my feelings a shit (y'all saw what I did there LMAOOOOO).

I vibe with how you vibe with me - pro if you do it right, con if you do it wrong. My mum has always said that I tap into peoples energies too much, but its because I like helping people, I like helping people feel secure and everything is alright but it backfires when someone isn’t giving me the same energy.

At this point, I’m not mad anymore. I know who wrote this anyways by the end of this so I apologize for my language earlier ;;. If you truly wanted to speak with me, I would’ve appreciated it lol. I’m just hurt you chose to do it in such a destructive manner, even including someone else in it as well. 

oh oh!! yes, i get vague visions of who be all up in my inbox so theres that. thisll be last time i take anyone serious on anon, so future anons you can cuss em out if youd like lol.

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part Three.

I’ve been alone in the room for what feels like hours now. Doctors and nurses keep coming and going, pricking me with needles and giving me medicine to take, taking my vitals, and asking me how I feel. Rate my mental state on a scale of 1 to 10. I feel fine, I just want to get the fuck out of here. They could’ve at least put me in a room with a TV or given me a magazine or a book or something, literally anything. I’m so bored. If I didn’t lose my mind already, I definitely will if I have to spend another minute in this room. The only thing keeping me company is the beeping of the heart monitor, and the hissing of the air unit. I’ve counted all the cracks in the ceiling, and I’ve recited every song I know. I started playing a game where I see how high I can count before another person walks into the room. I got up to 6000. We need to pick up the pace here. I get they’re worried that there could still be something wrong with me, but if I was asleep for the unspecified amount of time everyone keeps referring to as a “long time,” I think if something was going to happen, it would have. I just took a really long nap, its fine, let me go home.

Everyone that walks in keeps saying that they’re happy to see me awake, that I was so missed. “Don’t worry everything is going to be so much better” Some tech told me. Sure, it is; everything sucked before, and there’s no reason that it would stop sucking. Hey, at least now I have a fake friend and a sister that refuses to see me. I can’t forget that I have an apple orchard? Someone really needs to tell me what’s going on.

On top of that, everyone keeps telling me  that it’s a miracle I’m not brain dead. Obviously, the higher powers that be think there is still some entertainment value left in me. Maybe this will be the single event that puts me on the path to becoming the person that ends world hunger. More likely, I’m going to just spend the rest of my life drawing pictures that no one appreciates, struggling to make ends meet. Oh, what a life to live; and it’s going to be mine, unless I get into a BFA program with connections to Disney or something, then it might actually be a life worth living.

Look at me: I can walk, I can talk, and I still remember everything that happened leading up to going to the park. It’s a miracle I remember what a fuck-up I am.

There’s a knock on the door, I look up expecting another person wanting to draw my blood, but it’s just Cynthia. She holds up a fast food bag, “I bet you’re hungry.” She unpacks the bag on the tray table, burgers and fries. We never get to eat crap like this. I think since the time I was 5 years old she was always doing some weird gluten free, keto diet. I must have really scared her to get a treat like this. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, nor did I want to pass up on this rare opportunity to eat junk food, so I picked at it.

She watches me eat, “I really love you Connor, you’re my baby boy.” She’s crying again. I’ve never seen her so upset before. My whole life, she was always nagging me about something: smoking weed, growing out my hair, missing school. In fact, the last time I was in the hospital, for hurting myself, she told me that she was disappointed in me. “I expect better from you Connor,” she had said. That really stung. I was hurting, I still am hurting, and even my own mom wasn’t there to support me. What’s different about this time? I got too close to actually dying? Did they finally realized that I wasn’t faking my struggles, and now they feel guilty for not helping me?

My whole life they have pushed me too be something that I’m not, which actually caused them to push me away. They keep pushing me and pushing me, but still expect me to be able to stand. They load they weight of their expectations and disappointments on me, but I can only hold so much weight on my shoulders before it starts to crush me. I’m trying the best I can here, but I’m buried under the rubble that is the mess that I am. I tried so hard, I tried faking it so everyone could accept me, but its so exhausting. I just want people to love me for who I am, the mess and all, and not want to change me. I’m sending out a S.O.S. and its too bright outside to see my flare.

“Mom,” I say, “how long was I in a coma?”

“A long-time” she says.

“Can you please catch me up? I jus-” Mom waves her arm signaling me to stop. I really want to know what happened while I was asleep. No one seems to want to talk about it. I’m left to wonder what happened to the world while I was in this bed. Oh, I hope aliens invaded.

Mom sighs like she’s tired of being here, “The doctors said to wait to reintroduce media to you, but you must be so bored, so I brought you this.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out my phone. Oh, thank God. I basically rip it out of her hands and push the home button. The screen lights up to reveal hundreds of notifications. What the hell, I don’t have friends, literally. I don’t have a single person in my life I could even call a friend. People must really pity me. You disappear from the world, and suddenly everyone realizes how special you are. Everyone wants to be friends with the kid that almost died, their conscience won’t let them sleep at night otherwise.

I look at the date, October 15th. You mean to tell me I’ve been asleep for almost two months? It’s been two months since the first day of school. I missed two months of my life? Two months of school. Two months of gossip. Two months in this hospital bed. No wonders why everyone is freaked out, someone in a coma for that long, there has to be something wrong with them. “I’ve got to get going,” Mom says standing up. She kisses my forehead before she leaves.

I scroll through the notifications, they’re all texts from unknown numbers saying shit like “We miss you Connor, get well soon” Okay, talk about some bullshit. No one cared about me before, so why do I have to almost die for people to notice me. I mean no one deserves to be forgotten, or to disappear, but it would’ve been nice if they all noticed me before. I log on to Facebook. I hate that website, but I have a feeling it would be the most reliable place to find out what happened. Surly, Cynthia posted some Please keep my family in your prayers, our son is a freak bullshit. Sure enough, my feed is filled with pictures of me, people sharing stories about me, Connor was my best friend in the fourth grade, and he used to ride my bus. Everyone talking about how they know me, how much I mean to them. Its funny how death can bring out the shallowness in everyone. Also, why is everyone making my almost death so personal? My life had no bearing on yours before, and it doesn’t now. You don’t care about me. If I really meant anything to you, I would’ve known, I would’ve been an actual part of your life.

I click on my profile, and I’m tagged in something called The Connor Project. I click it, a video of Evan Hansen and Alana Beck plays, “The Connor Project is student group dedicated to keeping Connor’s memory alive, to show that everyone matters, everyone is important.” Okay, but, I don’t know why I need a whole group to keep my memory alive, I’m still alive. The site is filled with videos of Evan talking about how important I am to him. There’s a video of him telling the story about how he broke his arm , but it’s completely false. Maybe he fell out of a tree, but I wasn’t there. We never went to a yellow field or climbed any tall trees. I definitely didn’t drive him to the hospital either.

There’s old pictures of me everywhere on the page.  You can tell they’re old because my hair is so short in them, my ears sticking out. I wonder where they got them from. I’ve never been a big poster, I think there’s maybe two posts on my Instagram. Maybe Zoe or Mom gave them the pictures. I’m not mad, they’re all really good pictures of me. I look happy in most of them, like genuinely happy.

I don’t even remember ever being that happy.

There’s so many copies of emails me and Evan sent each other. Oh, that’s funny, because I’ve literally never talked to this kid, let alone sent him an email. And people are eating it up, thank you for sharing such an intimate conversation. Hey, I hate to break it to you: this isn’t real. This doesn’t sound like the Connor I knew. Guess what! The emails don’t sound like me because I didn’t write them. None of these emails I supposedly sent could vaguely belong to me. It’s like writing an essay about a book you never read. Also, who even emails anymore? Did we hit a time warp back to the 1990’s? It’s like I was asleep for so long that time actually started moving backwards. Why are they all about trees? You can tell by how pale I am that I don’t go outside. I keep scrolling. It’s just endless content of bullshit. Evan did say he wrote fake emails, and Jared was in on it, but how many other people were in on it? This is really elaborate. The page has 16,239 followers. Evan Hansen is being crowned as an amazing kid who shared a great tribute for his best friend.

This is a really cruel. It has to be an elaborate joke, right? But, what did I ever do to Evan that he would do something like this? First he writes a creepy letter about my sister, and now he’s infiltrated himself into my life as my best friend, as my hero. What is his obsession with me?

I’ve always been a loser just waiting to be seen, and finally everyone sees me. But they don’t see me.

They see the me Evan created.

[fictional-affliction]

Under Pressure, Chapter 5

Word Count: 2,020

Link to previous chapter: https://fictional-affliction.tumblr.com/post/185895670430/under-pressure-chapter-4

She could feel them staring and hear the whispers. She heard them when she raced out of Geoff’s house after throwing on some clothes and grabbing Cate; they looked at her in shock as she held back tears. She could hear them again now as she sat in English class on Monday morning. When she had gotten to school the walk down the hallway was as if she was under a microscope. Her classmates spoke like she wasn’t within hearing distance.

They were fucking when she walked in.

I heard they’ve been doing it since freshman year.

Apparently she’s a screamer.

Courtney had heard it all and it was only first period. She breathed in and out deeply to try to slow down her heart rate as her nails dug into her palms to keep them from shaking. Her brown eyes bore into the whiteboard as she tried to block it all out.

A stack of small blue notebooks, that the school provided for written tests, was placed on her desk, drawing her attention.

“Take one and pass it back.” Her English professor prompted. Courtney turned around in her desk to do as she was told and was met with Heather’s smiling face.

“Not so ‘holier than thou’ as we all thought huh? Don’t worry about it though, everyone has their shortcomings.” Heather faked sincerity as she took the booklets from Courtney. Courtney wasn’t so bothered that Heather was being mean, that’s just how Heather was. She was more affected by what she said.

She was ruined. Her reputation down the drain. She had prided herself on being the prime example of a model student. In one night her model student status had been reduced to that of the school slut.

Courtney’s vision went hazy as her thoughts began to spiral. As the professor wrote the essay questions on Shakespeare's Macbeth on the board, her heart beat faster and faster. Her professor saying ‘you may begin’ sounded so far away. She tried to focus and opened her notebook.

The questions on the board were all ones she knew the answers to, but when she put her pencil to paper she couldn’t organize her thoughts. Her brain kept jumping around and when she tried to recall quotes from the reading she was answered with the rumors spreading around about her.

But she had to do this. She had to prove she was still that model student despite what everyone was saying about her.

Before she knew it the bell rang. She frantically scribbled down her last sentence and scanned over her essay. Usually she was done with at least fifteen minutes to spare. As she left the class, instead of turning down the correct hallway to her Calculus classroom she made a bee line for the girls bathroom.

She upheaved the contents of her stomach into the toilet of the first stall and gagged until nothing else came out. After she left the stall she immediately received looks from a couple of sophomores. Courtney kept her eyes ahead as she washed her hands but their murmurs weren’t lost on her. Right as she was about to leave she heard one of their comments.

“She’s probably pregnant.” Courtney turned around wildly.

“Do you have something to say!” The sophomore looked back in fear at her outburst and shook her head quickly.

“Good! Then get out!” She screamed and they all scurried past her. Courtney kept her back against the door. She looked up to the ceiling and fought back the stinging sensation of tears prickling her eyes. She’d cried enough Saturday night after she had ignored Cate’s questions about if it was true, and if she was okay. She’d slammed her bedroom door in her face and wept under her covers where no one could hear her.

Courtney wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of making her cry again and slapped her cheek with an open palm. The pain was something else to focus on besides her humiliation and she hit herself again. The late bell rang and Courtney felt her frustration boil over. This time her fist collided with the bathroom wall.

Courtney winced and brought her hand to her face. Her knuckles were already bruising. She pretended it didn’t hurt as she opened the bathroom door and thought up an excuse for why she was late. She just had to make it though six more periods.  

When she opened the door and briskly stepped out she collided with someone. Courtney was already too annoyed to make a real apology and grumbled a quick ‘sorry’ but the person held by the shoulders.

“I tried calling you... and texted...” Duncan sounded embarrassed to confess that he had spent the rest of Saturday night and the majority of Sunday trying to contact her. It wasn’t his style but he was worried, and he hoped that there was still a chance for them.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” It was harsh, even to her own ears, but the words kept pouring out.

“This would have never happened if you hadn’t made me go to that stupid party. My reputation is ruined and it’s all your fault!” She knew that wasn’t true as she pushed him away from her, but it felt better to put the blame on someone else.

“Who cares what anyone says, they don’t matter.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re probably getting high fives and pats on the back while I’m the skank who spread her legs for you.”

“We know it wasn’t like that. You know people make shit up.” Through her rage Duncan could see how hurt she was and reached out to console her. She recoiled from his touch.

“Don’t touch me! I don’t want you to touch me ever again.” She pushed past Duncan without looking back.

---------

Duncan blew out a long puff of smoke as he sat on the curb outside of the school building.

“I can’t believe it.” Gwen said between drags. “I really need to take up Geoff’s offer and go to his parties one of these days.” Duncan ran a hand through his hair and huffed.

“She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” Gwen tried to reassure him although Duncan wasn’t convinced.

“I ruined her reputation.”

“Why can’t girls hook up without automatically being labeled a slut, yet guys can fuck whoever they want? Besides, everyone knows you and Courtney have been obsessed with each other since daycare.”

“Not obsessed.” Gwen turned to him with a deadpan expression on her pale face. Duncan chose to blow smoke out of his nose instead of giving her any recognition.

“It’ll blow over.” Gwen nudged Duncan with her elbow. Being long time friends meant that she could tell when he was genuinely upset, even if he wouldn’t say. “So...how was it...” Gwen nudged him again, this time with a knowing smile.

“Up until we were interrupted it was...” Duncan drifted off when he started to recall Courtney’s skin against his, her legs around his waist, how her body reacted to his so perfectly; their chemistry was off the charts.

Gwen watched as Duncan got this big goofy grin on his face.

“Ew, forget I asked.” Duncan glared.

“And just where were you Saturday night?” Gwen instantly started to go red and turned her face down. She mumbled something under her breath that Duncan heard but made her repeat anyway.

“I was with Trent!”

“And I’m the obsessed one.” Duncan laughed, Gwen may be all frowns and darkness but she had a weak spot for Trent. Gwen stood up and brushed off her skirt.

“C’mon we gotta go to art class,” she stomped out her cigarette, “just make her talk to you, that usually works.”

----------

Courtney had made it through the day, almost. After her run in with Duncan the rest of her classes had gone like the first. People staring, students whispering, even a few teachers had given her a concerned glance from overhearing the school’s gossip. It was much of the same and by the end of seventh period, she just wanted to go home. Even so, she held her head high. She wouldn’t let them know they got to  her.

She started to walk around a corner of the hallway when she heard her name pop up in a conversation on the other side of the hall, and abruptly stopped.

“Trust me, they were practically doing it when I walked in, he had a condom ready and everything.”

Courtney quickly peaked around the corner to confirm her suspicions that it was that same senior Amanda, who was the true source of her humiliation. Courtney stayed hidden to continue to eavesdrop, but had to silence her reaction to jump when she felt someone’s hand on her arm.

“Court I’ve been looking for you all day-”

“Shh!” Courtney whispered putting her index finger to her mouth. Bridgette had searched for Courtney in all their usual meeting spots throughout the day but she was nowhere to be found. Bridgette was really concerned about her, especially when the only text back she had gotten the day before only said ‘I’m fine.’ Then with everything being spread around about her today, she was worried.

Courtney bent forward to get as close as possible without being seen and Bridgette curiously followed.

“The whole school knows now.” One of Amanda’s friends shamelessly pointed out.

“Oops.” Amanda laughed and her friends giggled along with her. Courtney’s blood began to boil. She’d had it. Next thing she knew she had rounded the corner and was face to face with Amanda.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You think you can just go around broadcasting people’s business?” Bridgette was close behind her and tried to get Courtney to back down.

“C’mon Courtney it’s not worth it, let’s go.” At this point Courtney didn’t care, she was furious. Amanda rolled her eyes and twirled a piece of blonde hair.

“Oh please, what are you going to do about it? You wouldn’t dare do anything that could get you into trouble.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Courtney stepped closer and Bridgette tugged on Courtney’s arm.

“If you want to leave, then go Bridgette.” Bridgette didn’t budge, but did take out her phone and sent out a quick emergency text. Amanda took a slight step back from Courtney but didn’t stop antagonizing her.

“Go ahead, prove me wrong, it would at least give some reason for why Duncan would be into you.”

“Is that what this is about?” Courtney thought back to how Duncan had been flirting with Amanda at the party until she showed up. “You ruined my name because Duncan ditched you at the party? Just because you were jealous?”

“Jealous? Don’t think you’re that special, you’re just another notch in his bedpost.” That struck a cord with Courtney, it was enough to make her see red and tackle her to the ground causing the other girls to look on in disbelief.

“Get off of me!” Amanda yelled and scratched at Courtney but Courtney was stronger than she looked. When filled with this much rage, she was almost unstoppable. She wanted to get just one good hit in, enough to teach her a lesson.

Unfortunately she didn’t get that small bit of vengeance she craved because Courtney was physically pulled off right as she took a swing at her. Courtney kicked and flailed but she was held tightly around her waist. Amanda stood up and brushed herself off, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

“Get lost.” Duncan, who still had Courtney firmly in his grasp, directed toward Amanda and her little group of friends.

“You used to love my company remember?” As angry as Courtney was that gained her attention and she stopped struggling to look at Amanda.

“Oh, she doesn’t know?” It didn’t take a lot for Courtney to put the pieces together. It all made sense now. Courtney broke free of Duncan’s grasp and retrieved her backpack that had fallen to the floor in the chaos.

“Don’t follow me.” Courtney harshly threw over her shoulder as she left the scene.

[undadasea]

Hello! I came a little late into the YOI fandom but i want to write stuff for it, the stories are so good! The thing is, i've never written for fun before, so i dont know how to like,, do it? (Also i'm kinda shy, and English is not my first language) Do u have any writing tips or any advice you could give me? I love your work!

hi!! first welcome to the fandom! it’s a little quiet right now, yea, but as soon as there’s any news again? i can’t wait to see the fandom rocking again. and second i’m so happy you like my work enough to ask me for advice??? TTwTT i’ll try my best to help!

-okay so aaaaaaaa first just remember that, regardless of what some people may say, there is no right or wrong way to write a character. when you write, you want to write what is genuine to you, what you think the characters would do or say. you think victor secretly swears a lot? cool! you think yurio is trans? dope! you think yuuri and phichit were lovers? awesome! there is so much liberty you can take when writing fanfiction while still staying true to the characters themselves.

for me, i like writing yurio so he is actually a sweetheart, and he just acts mean. is this 100% canon? who knows! who cares! because it’s my personal interpretation of him, it’s how i see his character.

so if it’s something you see the character doing, then have them do it!

-think your story idea is cliche or overused? do it anyway! 

listen, take it from someone who has probably read most of the mafia au victuuri fanfiction on ao3. readers don’t care if it’s been done before. sometimes, they look for a story because it’s been done before, and they enjoyed reading it so they want to again! your style is different from other authors, so naturally your story isn’t going to be the exact same.

at this point in history, there are a LOT of stories that have already been done and if you freak out constantly about having a 100% perfectly unique, never been done story, then you are going to scrap so many amazing ideas! your story will ALWAYS be unique because only you can write the story that’s in your head. 

please please please never stop writing a story because you don’t think it’s unique enough. 

-also, you don’t have to post everything you write. if you just want to mess around and write a few silly things just to get a feel for it, that’s totally ok! i have a lot of stuff that i’ve written and never published for various reasons. sometimes i was just messing around with ideas, or maybe i didn’t like how it was. i have so much really old hetalia fanfiction i wrote when i was younger that i would probably die if it ever got published.

and that’s fine! when i first started writing, i didn’t have the option to publish it, but i still wrote, and i shared it with my sisters. 

just try out new techniques, mess around with the way you can word things, play around with how you think a character would respond to something (it’s also a good way to get a feel for the characters) you can just play around and keep those little stories to yourself. 

-sometimes you see people who publish a lot of stuff in a short amount of time. good for them! but if you don’t write that fast, don’t worry about it. you don’t have to post something every day in order to gain loyal readers and followers. trust me, those who enjoy your stories will wait forever for you to update, and they will be there when you do post again, with the same amount of excitement. 

hell, i’ve waited 2-3 YEARS for an update from someone, and i’m STILL waiting, and i’m STILL checking to see if it’s happened yet. when it finally does? you bet i’m going to read that update with love and tell the author how much i’ve missed the story.

and if you DO write fast, and post lots, guess what? people are going to be so excited every time you post. i promise you that you will get followers who will read everything you write. 

-as for actually doing the writing? it can be hard to tell you exactly how to start, because i can’t even remember how i did myself. it just sort of.. happened. 

if you want to get into writing the characters out, then i’d recommend just writing small lines first, just to get your head working to learn how to write stories for fun. 

“Victor whistled while he walked.” “Yurio sighed as he pet his cat.” 

just write small things first, little actions. slowly that can make it’s way into a story.

“Victor whistled as he walked down the street, glancing from house to house. He wondered how everyone was doing. Since his skating accident, he hadn’t seen anyone in ages. Did they miss him?”

“Yurio sighed as he pet his cat, lowering his phone from where he had been scrolling instagram. Yakov had sent him home for ‘bad behavior’ and he was so bored.”

-and if you can’t think of anything to write about, writing prompts are the BEST THING EVER. just search them up on google, pinterest, instagram, or i like to search here on tumblr. sentence prompts, idea prompts, character prompts. the people who write them out are amazing and there are so many great ideas of things to write. actually a lot of i write comes from writing prompts. just take an idea and think “in this scenario, who would be who? what would they do to solve the issue? and how did they even end up in this situation??”

-another good place to get ideas is music, or at least in my case. i love listening to music when i write, too, because it can set the right mood. feel like writing something fun? boppy pop songs. angsty? emo songs. a little crazy? lord knows there are some weird songs out there. 

and then there are songs that have stories and you just want twist it just so, and write the characters there. the first song that comes to mind for me is “Whiskey Lullaby” which is a very sad song, with a very sad story. but hell if i haven’t considered writing a story based on it. 

-then of course, there’s writing a story based on another one. whether it be based on a shakespeare play, that movie you saw last week, your favorite show, a book you read as a kid, etc. that’s ok too! even writing a story based on a different fanfic. tho of course, you always want to cite your inspiration in this case. i’ve read stories that were based off of others, that they asked if they could write a story in the same world, even. and those stories stood on their own, and i loved them all.

(me, remembering that my biggest story was inspired by someone else-)

-finally, i tell you that numbers are just numbers. 

this is something that a lot of people are still trying to learn (me included, sometimes) but numbers are fake. 

no matter what number you are looking at, i promise you it’s not worth it to stress out over it. 

number of kudos? number a views? number of comments? number of words? number of chapters?

none of it matters. because numbers aren’t a reason to write. write for YOU, and share the gift you have created with others. 

-

ok i can’t really think of much else to tell you and this already got,,, a LOT longer than i meant it to so i’m gonna stop here ;;; what and when and if you write will be up to you. 

if there’s anything specific you want to ask me about, either you want me to elaborate on something here, or you want to know about something not mentioned, i will absolutely try my best to help you. if you want another 1,000+ word essay on writing, let me know bc i just looked at the word count for this and almost fainted- this goes for everyone, by the way! 

also, i will absolutely read your first story whenever you decide to publish it!! (if you do, ofc) just let me know and i will be your first reader-

[millennial-medusa]

Help Me Piece It All Together, Darling

This was just supposed to be a little Jasiper drabble for my Baseball AU, but I love these two so much and it got away from me and, well...here’s 11k words of them being idiots and honestly barely any baseball. It is absolutely as cheesy as it sounds.

This is set their sophomore year, so earlier than the other fics I’ve written for this au.

Jason x Piper, rated T, read on ao3

Jason Grace might just be the death of her.

She’d thought he was attractive as soon as she’d started going to baseball games last year and spotted him from the stands. She’d thought he was gorgeous when she’d approached him at that bar a few months ago, the couple drinks in her system giving her the courage to toss her hair and tease him a little, the resulting blush across his cheeks and the electric blue of his eyes weakening her knees.

But now, sitting in the library watching him help Leo through a research paper with all the patience and kindness and—yes, she’d admit it, grace, no pun intended—of a seasoned kindergarten teacher, she was positive he was the most beautiful person she’d ever met.

And this was a problem.

It was a problem because Piper, despite being a decent flirt when she wanted to be, had absolutely zero skills in terms of getting a guy to date her. She’d had her fair share of one night stands and casual hookups, but those were easy; the kind of guys that were willing to do one night stands were willing to do them with anyone decently attractive and emotionally detached. Piper checked those boxes pretty well, minimal work required.

But Jason wasn’t one of those guys. The more time she spent with him, the more obvious it was that he was the kind of guy to hold open doors and only kiss on the third date and ask for a lady’s favor before going to fight a dragon for her hand because he was literally a knight in shining armor, and it sucked because Piper was pretty sure she was the scullery maid in that scenario. Or the evil step-sister. Or the dragon.

(Okay, she reasoned, she wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t evil. Just hopeless and delusional. One of the nameless court ladies who swooned at a glance from the knight, but was overlooked in favor of the lovely and virtuous princess he would live happily ever after with.)

So a crush on Jason was a terrible, awful, absolutely horrendous idea, but for some reason her heart didn’t get the message her brain was so desperately signaling to it with red flags and emergency flares, because it kept picking up speed with every blindingly white smile he sent her from across the table.

(What had she just been saying about swooning?)

“But I say right there what it’s about,” Leo was complaining, gesturing to his laptop screen.

“No, that’s your topic sentence for that paragraph,” Jason explained. He ran a hand through his already mussed hair.

Piper wanted to run her own hands through it, tugging on the blonde locks while her tongue explored his mouth.

“Isn’t that what a topic sentence is supposed to do?”

“Yes, but you don’t have a thesis. Or an introduction.”

“Why would I need one of those when you made me write that abstract thing that explained the whole paper anyway? I still maintain that invalidates even needing to write a paper, by the way.”

“Leo, have you ever written an essay in your life?”

Leo’s eyes darted to Piper’s, and twin smiles stretched slowly across their faces.

“Oh yeah,” Leo answered, turning back to Jason. “I’ve written tons, and they were fantastic. Totally winners.”

Piper bit back a laugh. “Honestly, Leo’s written some of the finest essays of our generation. I’m incredibly proud of my—ah, of his work,” she added.

Jason’s brow furrowed—in a non-totally adorable and distracting way, of course—as he glanced back and forth between the two of them.

“Leo,” he repeated slowly, fixing him with a stern gaze, “have you ever written an essay in your life?”

“Define ‘written.’”

“Are you serious?” Jason’s eyebrows hit his hairline, and Piper didn’t bother to hold back her laughter. “How did you get through high school? How did you get through all of last year?”

Leo grinned over at him. “Wilderness school didn’t assign too many essays, and when they did, they didn’t read them closely enough to realize the similarities in Piper’s and my writing styles.”

Jason’s eyes widened before landing on Piper. “You—you wrote his essays for him? For all of high school?”

Piper shrugged. “Like he said, there weren’t that many to write. Besides, I can knock out a three page paper in less than an hour, and Leo did lots of my math assignments to pay me back.”

“Yes, she drove a hard bargain, but every equation was worth it to not have to analyze Jane Eyre," Leo sighed.

“What can I say? The rates are high, but I provide excellent customer service.”

“Absolutely. I’d give you four stars on yelp.”

“Only four? That rhetorical analysis of Mark Antony’s speech got you a 98!”

“Sure, the quality is great, but your options are limited. You’re not writing this essay, for example.”

“You’re right, the uses of obscure elements is a little out of my scope of provided services. That’s what you get for taking chemistry.”

“What good are you comm majors if you can’t even write my essays for me?”

“You committed plagiarism for four years and got away with it?” Jason interrupted with a harsh whisper.

“Relax, Sparky, the teachers didn’t care what we did as long as we sat quietly,” Piper laughed.

“Which, naturally, we always did,” Leo added. “We’re both known for our ability to sit in silence and behave just like we should.”

Jason shook his head. “I have no idea how I ended up with the two of you for friends.”

“Aww c’mon, you know you love us,” Leo crooned.

Jason chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “You’re lucky I do. I would not risk having ‘aiding and abetting criminals’ on my record for anybody else.”

With that, the air shifted. Piper felt her stomach drop, and her eyes met Leo’s again, but this time the knowledge that passed between them was not of an inside joke. The laughter had disappeared from their expressions, and Jason noticed.

“Guys?” he asked tentatively, glancing between the two of them nervously before landing on Piper. “Is everything okay? Did I say someth—”

“So I don’t have a thesis,” Leo interrupted, “what is that, exactly?”

Jason was still studying Piper, who was avoiding his gaze. She could feel his eyes, all too perceptive, roaming over her drawn face and tensed shoulders, but she focused resolutely on the textbook in front of her.

“Your thesis statement sums up your argument and the key points you’re using to prove it,” she spoke up, her gaze trained on Leo now. “It’s like, a shortened version of the back of a book. Or a highlights reel. Or a movie trailer.”

Leo looked back at her blankly. “So…another thing that sums up the whole paper. Why do I have to write the whole paper if I can prove it in one sentence?”

Piper rolled her eyes, but, to his credit, Jason managed a small smile. “It doesn’t prove your claim, it just gives a little preview of how you’re going to prove it. It gives the reader an idea of what to expect,” he explained, far more patiently than Piper ever could have. She was good with words, but even Leo exceeded her patience at times like these.

Jason was just so good. Piper couldn’t think of anybody deserving of him, especially not herself.

Her heart ached.

Over the past three months, Jason had fit seamlessly into Leo and Piper’s lives, clicking instantly. She and Jason were easy friends in their own right, getting pizza together or hanging out in the apartment when Leo was out. Of course, she’d befriended Percy, Annabeth, and many of the other team members and their assorted friends in the same amount of time, but her connection to Jason was just…different, somehow. And not just because she was perilously close to falling in love with him already.

Leo would always be Piper’s best friend—they’d been through so much together that losing him wasn’t even a possibility to Piper, they were stuck with each other for life—but Jason, even after only three months, was already a close second. After their initial meeting of tipsy flirting, they’d bonded quickly over their shared love of baseball and Disney movies.

So now Piper knew just how kind and genuine of a person he really was. She also knew how much of a disaster she was, and how much he didn’t deserve to have to put up with that.

So she suffered in silence, hoping her little crush would go away painlessly and soon. The way her stomach flipped when Jason glanced over at her again, his eyes still slightly apprehensive, seemed to insist she would not be getting an easy out.

When she tuned back into the boys’ conversation, Jason was asking Leo when the paper was due.

“Tomorrow?” he yelped at Leo’s answer. “And you waited until now to ask for my help? Leo, you have six more pages to write, we’re gonna be here all night!”

“Nice rhyme, Dr. Seuss,” Leo teased, but at the look Jason gave him, he ducked his head guiltily. “I know, honestly I didn’t think writing a dumb essay would take that long,” he mumbled. “You guys can go home if you want, it’s pretty late and finals are in a few days and I’m sure I can figure this out—”

Piper just snorted. “Not going anywhere, Valdez. We’re a team.”

“She’s right,” Jason chimed in, patting Leo lightly on the shoulder. “I meant it when I said I’d help. If we have to stay until the paper is due, then that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Leo smiled at both of them, and they went back to work.

—

Three hours later, Piper felt her eyelids drooping. It was only 10 PM, but she'd had gotten up early and worked all day, so she could already tell staying up with Leo was gonna be rough. The boys, she noted, were looking a little frazzled too, so she stood and told them she was going on a coffee run.

Jason frowned. “It’s late, Pipes, are you sure you should be walking across campus alone?”

Warmth spread through her at his concern, but she shrugged it off and her jacket on. “I’m a tough girl, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Leo cut him off. “Just go with her, Jason, I need some time alone anyway.”

Piper nodded at Jason’s questioning glance, but she glared daggers at Leo when Jason turned to grab his coat. Leo just gave her a shit eating grin; he’d picked up on Piper’s crush early on and frequently found excuses to leave them alone together.

A few moments later, Piper and Jason were walking out into a wall of freezing December air that had Piper tugging her coat around her and wishing she could cuddle up to Jason. Strictly to conserve heat, naturally.

They chatted easily as they walked to a small coffee shop about five minutes away, the only one on campus open 24 hours.

“Are your finals bad?” Jason asked, his words a puff of steam in the frigid air.

Piper shook her head and buried her hands deeper in her pockets. “Nah. My media law final is the only one I’m really worried about, but I think I’ll do okay. What about yours? Is that political theory stuff still giving you trouble?”

“I’ve been studying for it, so I think I’ll be okay,” he shrugged.

“I wish I had the self discipline to already be studying for finals,” Piper grumbled. “I can’t get myself to study before the last minute.”

Jason laughed at her sullen expression. “You just need the right motivation, like a reward or a study buddy.”

“You offering?” She caught his eye and smirked; Jason blushed a pretty shade of pink that spread down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his peacoat. Piper found herself wishing she could see just how far down that blush travelled.

“Yeah—I mean, if you wanted,” Jason stammered, looking hurriedly away from her.

Piper cringed inwardly; she hadn’t meant to embarrass or pressure him. But she had to admit, having someone to make her study would be helpful—Leo was no help at all and Annabeth had her hands full with Percy—and she couldn’t bring herself to say no to spending time with Jason, even if she should for her own sake.

“I’d like that,” she found herself saying, and his resulting smile was so bright she forgot all about the awkwardness of the previous moment. His teeth were so perfect and straight, he could’ve done toothpaste commercials, she noted. And his lips—well, Piper had spent plenty of time thinking about them already; they were a little thin and a little chapped, but they were so frequently pulled into a smile and looked so inviting she knew she wouldn’t mind the roughness if they were working with her own. She wanted to bite the scar on his upper lip—where had it come from? She’d have to ask him sometime.

Her eyes traveled upward then, following the gentle slope of his nose to his bright blue eyes. Piper usually preferred brown, like her own, but Jason’s were so genuinely captivating, fringed with long, blonde lashes, that she longed to drown herself in them.

That thought snapped her out of her haze: she wasn’t this much of a fucking sap, and she couldn’t afford to be thinking things that sounded like they were written by a lovesick thirteen year old. She couldn’t take her eyes off his, though, and she noted the way they dropped to her mouth as her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

He was looking at her mouth. And his eyes were different somehow—darker? Or maybe that was just the shadowy lighting, but either way he was definitely staring at her mouth and either he was going to stop and kiss her or she had something stuck in her teeth. She really hoped it was the former, because they’d gotten so close their arms were touching as they walked and his eyes were flitting up to her own and back down again, and Piper prayed, oh she prayed that she was right because she was leaning forward now so there was no going back and—

Unfortunately, staring prolongedly at a boy who probably wasn’t even into her meant that Piper didn’t notice the patch of ice she was walking towards.

She shrieked as her feet slid out from under her, the dark pavement suddenly racing towards her. She braced for impact, but instead of freezing concrete to the nose, she felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and hauling her back to her feet.

Before she could fully process what was happening she found herself pressed entirely up against Jason’s front, his arms securely around her waist and his wide eyes blinking down at her from behind his glasses. Her hands settled on his chest as they stared at each other, and then slid down to grip his forearms. Neither his hands nor his gaze shifted.

Piper swallowed hard before noting just how nice his arms felt, even through his coat. All those workouts and baseball practices had really paid off.

Jason’s cheeks were stained crimson again—he blushed a lot, and Piper adored it—but he started laughing.

“Yeah, uh, I guess they have,” he said. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “Not—not that you’re heavy, or anything. Because you aren’t. I mean, you’re like, average weight I assume? For a girl your height? I don’t really know, I haven’t caught very many people—”

Piper was mortified her comment had been spoken aloud, but thankfully Jason’s own stammering had shifted the focus off of her.

“What?” she asked, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you don’t regularly swoop in and catch people? And here I thought you were some kind of blonde Superman. It’s kind of a let down that you don’t save the day all the time.”

Jason grinned, a little sheepishly, but without most of the previous nervousness. “Haven’t noticed too many people falling.”

Piper’s heart hammered in her chest, and surely he could feel it with the way they were still pressed together. Then you must be blind, she wanted to say.

Instead, she stepped back, letting his arms fall away from her. She instantly felt the chill seep into her as though she weren’t even wearing a coat.

“Guess it’s just me, then,” she quipped, tossing him a smile as they headed toward the coffee shop again. They were nearly there. “Figures, I’m pretty clumsy.”

A small smile appeared on Jason’s face at that. Piper saw him attempt to subtlety lengthen his strides—attempt being the key word, because it wasn’t subtle at all—and reached the door first, just in time to open it for her, ever the perfect gentleman. “Hey, every princess needs a little saving now and then,” he said.

This time, Piper was the one blushing.

—

Piper McLean was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Jason had never been great with girls. He knew there had been girls who’d liked him in the past, definitely more than a few who’d flirted with him, but he never had much interest. The only relationship he’d ever had was with Reyna in high school, and that had been short lived; Jason cared about her deeply but not romantically, and Reyna…well. Reyna had ended up dating his older sister.

Where was he going with that? Oh, he was bad with girls. Right.

So when he’d seen Piper across that bar in September, he’d nearly panicked. She was gorgeous, looking him up and down with eyes that were shifting color, and she seemed to approve of what she saw, but Jason couldn’t flirt to save his life when he was sober, let alone several drinks in. Luckily she’d been about as drunk as he had, so she hadn’t minded his inability to keep up with her.

Since that night, Jason couldn’t get her out of his head. She was beautiful and brilliant and funny, and they just matched. The more time he spent with her, the harder he fell, and he knew it would end badly because she was clearly out of his league—but that didn’t stop him.

Being around her and knowing she would never be interested in him was torture, but if it meant he could make her laugh and watch her re-braid her hair and listen to the little songs she made up under her breath when she thought he couldn’t hear, then he’d gladly suffer every day of his life.

They’d gotten the coffee and headed back to the library after the rather embarrassing incident outside the shop (he wanted to die a little remembering how he’d basically called her heavy, and that he’d stood there and not let her go like some kind of clingy creeper. It was worth it to get to hold her like that—it just felt right—but still. And had he really called her a princess in need of saving? As if Piper needed him to save her. Piper was more like a badass queen who slew her own dragons, so Jason really had no idea what had possessed him to make that comment).

In any case, they’d made it through the rest of the night without any more awkward moments, and now, at nearly 4 AM, Leo was finishing up his paper. Jason’s eyelids had been drooping for the past hour even with the enormous amount of coffee he drank, and Piper had slumped forward and fell asleep on her arms some time ago. Leo, however, somehow managed to maintain his ridiculously high energy levels, which struck Jason as a little concerning. Did he ever sleep?

“Okay,” he was saying now, his fingers flitting frantically over the keyboard, “what if I shifted this quote down here, and I could add something up here about the chemical bonding process?”

Jason shook his head to wake himself up. It didn’t work. “Uh, yeah, if you’ve got more to say about…about uh, chemical bonding, I say go for it, man.”

He looked over at Piper. One of her arms was extended across the table in front of her, and the other was bent next to it. Her head rested on them at an angle that didn’t look comfortable to Jason, but either didn’t bother Piper or the discomfort was outweighed by her exhaustion. Her hair was a mess, thrown across her shoulders and sticking to her face. Jason’s fingers twitched on the table, wanting to brush it back.

Even when she was messy and undone and practically drooling onto her oversized flannel, Piper still made Jason’s heart skip a beat. It wasn’t that she was traditionally beautiful at all times (because that was just unrealistic), but she was her own kind of beautiful, and it was the most breathtaking kind Jason had ever seen.

He must have been staring, because Leo nudged his shoulder and shot him a knowing grin that heated Jason’s cheeks. “I’ve got this covered here, if you wanna take Piper to bed.”

Jason’s face went full red at that. “What? I-I wouldn’t—she’s, I mean that’s not really—”

And then Leo was laughing, laughing way too loudly for four in the morning. “Relax, Grace, I just meant take her back to our place. This is basically all written, but I’ll probably stay a couple more hours to finish editing and then print it and turn it in while I’m up, so I’m not gonna be able to take her back. And I don’t…I don’t like her walking alone at night, even if she says she can,” he added quietly, suddenly more serious. Jason nodded in agreement. The idea of Piper going out alone at night on a college campus made his stomach turn. He knew how a lot of guys their age could be and wouldn’t put it past them to try something, as horrible as that was.

And the thought of one of them trying something with Piper made him want to punch someone’s teeth out.

“You sure you’re okay here?” he asked. “I can stay if you need more help.”

Leo shook his head. “I’m good now. But listen…thanks. I know this isn’t your ideal Saturday night, so, um, thank you.” He kept his gaze down, fiddling with his fingers like he always did, but this time it seemed more…agitated?

Nervous, Jason realized.

He gripped Leo’s shoulder tightly until the other boy met his gaze. “Remember what Piper said about us being a team? That includes me now, and I’ve always got your back, Leo.”

A grin lit up Leo’s face, and he shoved the hand off his shoulder playfully. “Welcome to Team Valdez and the Crew, then!”

“That name needs a little work.”

“What are you talking about? It’s perfect!”

“I somehow doubt Piper signed off on it, and I may be late to the game but I know I hold some kind of veto power.”

“Fine, we can workshop it. Later. Right now you need to get the beauty queen home, because if she stays like that any longer I’m pretty sure her arm is gonna lose blood flow.”

Jason chuckled and moved to Piper, trying to gently wake her. It took a few tries—wow, she was a deep sleeper—but eventually she stirred.

“Hmm? Jason?” Her eyes blinked in the fluorescent lights of the library, and closed again.

“Yeah, Pipes, it’s me,” he reassured quietly. “Come on, let’s get your coat on.”

“Coat?”

“Yep, I’m gonna get you home.”

“Oh. ‘S cold outside.” Jason had to keep himself from laughing at her slurred words. Half awake was as good as he was going to get, he supposed, but damn, it was too adorable for him to mind.

“Yep, that’s what the coat’s for.”

“Where’s—” she yawned dramatically— “where’s m’purse?”

“On your shoulder.”

“…oh. Hmm.”

Piper’s eyes were barely open, and he honestly didn’t trust her to not walk into a wall or something, so Jason hesitantly wrapped his arm behind her waist, gripping her hip to keep her pressed to his side. She immediately nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder and sighed, and Jason’s brain sort of broke for a moment. He stared down at the top of her head, his heart pounding.

That doesn’t mean anything, he told himself. Pull it together, man. She’s basically asleep. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

So he shook his head in an attempt to clear it and started to steer her to the exit.

“Grace!”

Jason turned back a little to half face Leo. “Yeah?”

“Be careful with her. She’s more fragile than she looks.” The normal teasing lilt to his voice was there, but his eyes were serious, piercing into his own with purpose.

Jason nodded solemnly. He knew Leo meant more than just to be careful tonight, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he intended beyond that. What Jason did know is that he would never hurt Piper.

Besides, his own heart seemed much more at risk than hers.

—

Jason was living in a dorm this year and didn’t have a car, but luckily Piper and Leo’s apartment was only a short walk from campus. Plus, the longer they walked, the longer Piper was wrapped up in his arm, pressed against his side and nuzzling into him like a kitten.

By the time they reached her apartment building, the chill and the walk had woken Piper up some, and she was a bit more conscious of what was going on, but Jason noted giddily that she made no attempt to move away from him. In fact, she may have even pushed closer, but that could have been his imagination. Besides, it was probably just because it was below freezing and she wasn’t completely awake.

(He really didn’t mind.)

Finally he had to release her so she could kick off her shoes and shrug her coat off and fall into bed. He felt colder without her, and almost…hollow, like something was missing where she had been? But that was just silly. They were just friends, and he was fine with that. He had to be.

“Okay, well if you’re good I’m gonna—” he gestured towards her door, starting to leave, but her soft voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks.

“Just crash here,” she said sleepily, her eyes barely open. “It’s late.”

“Only if you don’t mind,” he said, but he was praying she would insist because it was freezing, and his dorm was on the other side of campus, and he was almost as exhausted as she was.

“‘Course not.” She yawned again, and her eyes drifted shut. “C’mere.”

Jason blinked, confused. “Um, I’ll just sleep on the couch, Pipes,” he tried to explain, but even in her mostly-asleep state she was pushy.

“Couch is lumpy and I want you to stay here,” she insisted, though her slurred words made her a little less intimidating than usual.

Still, Jason hesitated. She was so tired she was practically drunk, she could not be thinking straight. She’d probably wake up tomorrow and wonder what was wrong with him that he didn’t ignore her.

“C’mon, Sparky, I’m cold,” she pleaded, and when he glanced back at her, her eyes were open and clear. “Please?”

As Jason toed off his sneakers, draped his coat over her desk chair, set his glasses carefully aside, and crawled into bed beside her, he was cursing himself for being so weak for this woman. He knew he’d regret it tomorrow, but, well…he just couldn’t say no to her.

—

Piper woke suddenly. She sat up and glanced around blearily, trying to find what had woken her up. Her eyes landed on her clock. It was 7:28 on a Sunday morning, why the hell—

A noise came from beside her, a kind of strangled yelp, and she jumped. Jason was lying in her bed—Jason was lying in her bed, oh, God—Jason was lying in her bed—and he was shaking, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his frowning forehead. His chest was heaving, and Piper realized with a clench of her heart that he was having a nightmare.

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat beneath her fingers. Then she shook him gently, trying to wake him up.

“Jason,” she whispered, repeating it louder when he didn’t stir.

Suddenly he jolted awake, gasping, his eyes glancing about the room frantically before landing on her face and softening.

“Piper?” he croaked.

“Yeah, Jason, it’s me,” she answered softly, unthinkingly combing his hair back from his forehead. He leaned into her touch and her heart nearly stopped. What was she doing? It had been stupid of her to ask him to stay; he would’ve been fine on the couch.

He seemed to notice something was off, and he coughed awkwardly as he sat up. “I should go,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “I-I shouldn’t have stayed, I’m sorry, you were basically asleep, you—”

“I asked you to stay, and I meant it,” she insisted. It was the truth, even if she was kicking herself now for practically forcing herself on him. He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. Together, they waited in silence for something Piper couldn’t name.

“What was it about?” she asked hesitantly. Her voice was small and cautious. “The dream.”

Jason’s head lifted and their eyes met, sparks lighting up Piper’s spine. Her nickname for him was more accurate than he realized.

But he hesitated, and Piper rushed to add, “If you don’t wanna talk about it that’s fine, I shouldn’t have pried, I just thought maybe—”

“My mom,” he answered quietly. “My real mom. She—well, she was an alcoholic, so Thalia and I got taken away from her when I was really little. I barely remember her, just bits of memories here and there. I was only two, so...I found out later my dad is some politician, barely even knew we existed, and his wife hated us so she made sure they didn’t have to take us. We were put into foster care, different families. Took us years to find each other again.”

His gaze hadn’t wavered from hers, and Piper could see the pain in his eyes. She hadn’t meant to make him relive something that hurt so much, she hadn’t realized.

“Jason,” she breathed, her hand finding his. He gripped it hard.

“She died,” he said, his eyes finally dropping from hers to settle on their hands. “Went sort of crazy and drank herself to death a couple years after we were taken away. I only found out years later, when Thalia told me. I never…I didn’t get to see her again.”

His hand was shaking in hers, so Piper squeezed harder. Minutes ticked by in silence, and she wasn’t sure how else to comfort him. There was nothing she could think to say to make him feel better, and it didn’t feel right to try to brush past what he’d just admitted to her. He’d opened up a huge part of himself to her.

Maybe that called for her to do the same.

“I never knew my mom,” she said finally. Jason glanced up at her earnestly, questioningly. She took a shaky breath and continued, “My dad’s a movie star and all so I guess it could be pretty much anyone, but he never talks about her and shuts down when I ask, so I gave up on trying a long time ago. He was never really around either though, with his film schedule and press stuff. He tried, for a while anyway, when I was little. He used to come home more often and take me to the beach, but I was always a difficult kid and pretty soon it was visits for a day every couple weeks when he could make the time to fly out and see me. Pretty sure he didn’t even want a kid, but he was stuck with me.”

Jason was watching her, studying her face openly, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead she focused on their entwined hands, as he had done. Her fingers played with his as she talked, and she took comfort in the fact that he let her.

“Anyway, Leo and I met in middle school and he got me through it. His mom was really sweet to me, way nicer than the nanny my dad hired to watch me most of the time. That’s around the time I…I started acting out? You know, doing stupid stuff to get my dad to pay attention to me, even if it was just to scold me or whatever. Leo was happy to help, and after his mom died and he got stuck with his awful relatives it just got worse, and we probably spent most of our time in detention. It wasn’t enough for me, though, and it kept escalating, and I—I was in a really bad place, but my sophomore year I got caught shoplifting some clothes.”

She paused to look up at him, expecting to see judgement written across his face, but she found only the same earnest expression as before.

“It was dumb, and my dad’s lawyers got me off without anything on my record somehow, but I finally got my dad’s full attention. He flew all the way home just to chew me out.” She laughed a little at the absurdity. “It was really bad, and the next week I was at wilderness school, which was like this boarding school for troubled kids out in the middle of some bumblefuck Nevada desert.”

“Shit, Piper,” Jason said, “I’m sorry.”

Piper waved him off. “Please, even the racial slurs those kids threw at me is nothing compared to what you just told me, and Leo acted up enough to end up out there with me, so it wasn’t the end of the world. I just thought I should be honest.”

Jason frowned. “You don’t owe me anything. I told you that stuff because I wanted to, Pipes. I trust you.”

“I know. I trust you too,” she answered, squeezing his hand. “So now that we’ve agreed that parents are shitty, wanna go back to sleep for a few hours?” She forced a smile and hoped he would miss the tension behind it.

He studied her a moment longer, but finally relented with a nod. Together they lay back down in Piper’s bed and drifted back into sleep.

Piper smiled to herself at the realization that they were still holding hands.

—

The second time Jason woke that morning was not to Piper’s voice calling him out of a nightmare, but to her hair in his mouth and Leo’s loud laughter, which was somewhat less pleasant.

Apparently they had shifted over the last few hours so they were no longer holding hands; rather, Piper was stretched out face down on top of him, one leg slung over his hips and her head nestled on his chest, hence the aforementioned hair in his mouth. Jason had instinctually wrapped his arms around her, and he thanked every deity he could think of that there was no morning…issue to deal with. The situation was embarrassing enough without it.

He stared down at her as she came to, blinking confusedly in the morning light before meeting his eyes. She seemed to realize where she was then and shot up, Jason’s arms jerking back immediately.

Leo laughed again from the doorway, wiping tears from his eyes. “Jason, man, I told you I didn’t mean it literally when I said take her to bed!” he was giggling, and Jason felt his face flush brightly.

He was gonna kill him.

“Leo, get out of my room before I murder you,” Piper snapped from behind her hands covering her face.

Never mind, Piper had it handled.

Leo did as she asked, but not before blowing them each a kiss and winking at Jason.

The pause that followed was tense, unsurprisingly.

“Piper,” he started, but she interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep so obviously I didn’t really know what I was doing,” she rushed, sliding out of bed and hurrying around her room, searching the clutter until she found a hair tie to braid her hair back with as she talked. “I wouldn’t have—I mean, I shouldn’t have made you stay. Sorry.”

Jason grit his teeth. There was the rejection he’d been anticipating since last night. It hurt more than he'd expected, but it was his own fault. He'd known the risks. He should’ve just slept on the couch. He should’ve kept quiet about his mom. He should’ve stopped her, told her he wasn’t trying to pressure her into talking, into anything.

He should’ve known better.

“No, I’m sorry,” he muttered, trying to mask the hurt on his face and bending to put his shoes on. “I appreciate you letting me stay. I’m gonna head out.”

She may have nodded, or maybe she didn’t answer, or maybe she watched him go. He wasn’t sure, he walked out and didn’t look back.

—

Piper didn’t hear from him for the next several days, and kicked herself every time she checked her phone hoping to see a message from him. Of course he isn’t gonna text you, she chided, you basically told him you regretted letting him stay over right after he poured his heart out to you, and you were cuddling with him when he woke up. You’ll be lucky if he talks to you again.

So Piper went to Annabeth, the only person she’d actually told about her feelings for Jason, unsure of what exactly she was hoping for.

What she got was a frown over the carton of ice cream they were sharing.

“You’re taking all the cookie dough chunks,” Annabeth complained.

“No I’m not. Focus on the real issue here!”

“The issue of you not telling Jason how you feel? Because that’s the real issue.”

Piper rolled her eyes; they’d had this exact conversation about a million times already. “There’s no reason to ruin the friendship we’ve got because my stupid feelings got in the way.”

“You seem to think you’ve already ruined it,” Annabeth pointed out, nudging Piper’s spoon away from another chunk of cookie dough.

“It’s been three days, what am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe he got busy?” Annabeth suggested. “Maybe his phone got broken or lost, maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Have you tried texting him?”

Piper bit her lip and focused very hard on getting a decent spoonful of ice cream.

“You haven’t even tried texting him. Of course not. Piper, I thought you were good with guys!”

“I am!” she insisted. “Guys that I wanna sleep with and then never see again, or that I want to flirt with and not have to worry about their feelings. But Jason is all perfect and handsome and sweet and suddenly my brain feels like it’s been zapped by lightning.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Well he probably thinks you don’t want to hear from him and is agonizing over why you haven’t texted him.”

Piper perked up a little at that. “You think so?”

“I don’t know, Percy said he was really off Monday but seems mostly fine now, just distracted. Sounds like it could have something to do with why he hasn’t said anything.”

Piper chewed on her lower lip, mulling the possibilities over. Either he was distracted by what had happened Sunday—though she hoped that wasn’t the case—or something else had happened and that was keeping him preoccupied. She just had to figure out what was bothering him, and then maybe things could go back to normal.

“So you think I should text him?”

Annabeth sighed. “Honestly? I think you should both wake up and realize you’re obviously head over heels for each other. But since neither of you is going to admit it apparently, yes, I think you should text him before it gets weird.”

Piper grinned and snagged a hunk of dough before pulling out her phone.

hey, she typed. Very eloquent. Definitely summed up the “please talk to me I’m really sorry and I miss you also I might be falling in love with you” sentiment she was going for.

But, having nothing else she could think to say, Piper pressed send and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long. Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed with an answering, Hey!! from him. Piper grinned, just as another message followed: What’s up?

“He answer?” Annabeth asked around the spoon in her mouth.

Piper nodded as her fingers flew across the keyboard. just haven’t heard from you in a few days, everything ok?

Yeah everything is fine, I’ve just been busy. he answered. Piper smiled at his perfect grammar. She’d tried to explain to him once that he didn’t need to worry about that with her, but he’d furrowed his brow and asked why she wouldn’t want the same consideration he gave to everyone else. She’d laughed at his seriousness and let the issue drop. She glanced down when her phone buzzed again. Are you still in need of a study buddy?

Only if it’s you, she shot back. It was a little risky, but she figured it was just a casual friendly remark. No hidden truths to be found anywhere.

Her anxiety mounted a little when the three dots showed up at the bottom of the screen and then disappeared. Was that the wrong thing to say? Had that sent her crashing through the thin ice she’d been standing on with him and right into hot water?

But no, his answer was simply, Tomorrow, 7 PM at the library? and she breathed a sigh of relief.

make it the coffee shop and you’ve got a deal

Sounds good. See you then.

Piper grinned giddily down at the screen. Everything was okay, and their friendship was intact.

She looked up to see Annabeth smirking at her from the other side of the couch.

“Shut up,” Piper muttered. Annabeth only shrugged and returned to the ice cream.

—

The “study date”, as Percy and Leo insisted on calling it, went smoothly, much to Jason’s relief. He’d panicked after not hearing from Piper for so long, thinking that either his storming out or the waking up cuddling incident had upset her, so getting a text from her was a huge weight off his shoulders. He focused on everything, including baseball, a little better when he was on good terms with her. It was dangerous, he knew; he couldn’t afford to let every disagreement with a girl he’d only known a few months throw him off his game, but he couldn’t exactly help it. He’d just have to settle for keeping her happy. (Luckily for him, keeping Piper happy was becoming a top priority at an alarming rate. Or…perhaps that was unluckily.)

Things had just about returned to normal between the two of them, and they hung like nothing had changed. Which, Jason reminded himself, was true. Nothing had changed. He just knew for certain that she wasn’t interested in him the way he wanted her to be. But he’d known that before. So.

Jason was just reflecting on this when Leo caught up to him, leaving the locker room after the last practice of the semester.

“You missed an easy shot at the end there, you sure you don’t need a little more practice?”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s your average again?”

“Point taken. When are you headed home?”

“I’ve got one more final tomorrow and then I’m out. What about you?”

Leo looked down, his fingers tapping out an agitated rhythm on the shoulder strap of his bag. “I’m staying here, actually. Lotta money to fly to Houston, and I’ve got lots of stuff to work on here, so.” He shrugged.

“You’re from Houston?” Jason frowned. “I thought you and Piper went to school together.”

“We did. Piper lived at her dad’s little ranch house thing even while he was filming, supposedly so she didn’t ‘get sucked into the Hollywood stuff.’ Really it was because he didn’t want to deal with her.” Suddenly Leo glanced at him, eyes wide. “Shit, don’t tell her I said anything, yeah? I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

Jason waved him off. “I won’t, but it’s fine, she already told me about her dad.”

This seemed to interest Leo. “She did?” A small smile appeared on his face at Jason’s nod, which seemed…odd, for such a serious subject. “Anyway yeah, we knew each other in Texas before we both got banished to the desert.”

“So she’s going home to Texas?”

“Nah, her dad sold the property as soon as she went to college. He didn’t use it, so no point in keeping it if you don’t need somewhere to stash a kid, I guess.” Leo’s tone was bitter, and Jason got the impression Leo felt about the same way toward Tristan McLean as his daughter did. “Besides, Piper’s only going to L.A. for Christmas because she has to, and then she’ll be back. We spend every New Year’s together. It’s tradition.”

“You’re lucky,” Jason commented drily, “my foster mom is great and all, but she’s a little…I don’t know, militant? Makes holidays kind of stressful.”

Leo grabbed his shoulders and pulled him so they were facing each other in the middle of the sidewalk. “Come back for New Year’s.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, you can stay in the apartment until the spring semester starts. You’ll still have Christmas with your mom, but you can have a little fun with us for the new year!”

Jason frowned, thinking it over. “I don’t know, Leo…”

“Piper will be there, too.” Leo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Jason blushed.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t mind me staying for a couple weeks?”

Leo snorted and released his shoulders so they could walk again. “Please, Piper would love having you there.”

Jason started to ask what that meant, but before he could, Leo slapped him on the back.

“Great! Glad that’s settled. You’re gonna see Piper before you leave, right?”

“Um, I was planning on it, but Leo—”

“Smart man. Have a good break! See you at the end of the month!”

And then Leo was gone, leaving Jason with plans for the holidays and several questions.

—

“He what?”

Jason winced. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed without asking Piper first, but then again, Leo hadn’t left much room for debate.

“Yeah,” he answered once he’d swallowed the bite of pizza he’d been working on. “He kind of insisted, so now I guess I’m spending New Year's and the following couple weeks with you guys? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I can always tell him no,” he added, watching her chew her lip and resisting the urge to reach over and soothe it with his thumb.

“No!” she yelped, and immediately blushed. Probably remembering what had happened the last time he’d stayed with her, he figured. This plan was seeming worse with every passing minute. “It’s fine,” she amended more quietly, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’ll be sleeping on the couch, obviously,” he said with a dry smile. He’d hoped to reassure her, but her face seemed to fall, almost like…disappointment? But that didn’t seem right, unless she really didn’t want him there.

Her expression shifted almost immediately to one of excitement, though, and he didn’t have time to overthink anymore. “Right. It’ll be fun!” she was saying. “You can join in all our New Year’s Eve traditions, like drinking.”

Jason waited a moment for her to continue. She didn’t. “Oh, I thought you were listing things.”

Piper nodded, taking a sip of her soda. “I was.”

“So…?”

“That was the whole list.”

Jason laughed. “Of course. Well, it’s more traditions than I’ve got, so I’d be happy to join in.”

Piper’s answering smile lit up her whole face, and Jason had to swallow hard to keep his heart from jumping into his mouth. She was so beautiful it was just unfair.

—

As soon as Piper walked into their apartment on December 29th, she felt at ease again. Her Christmas had been stressful—which is completely unfair, by the way, it’s Christmas—because yeah, he was her dad, and he was trying and she got that, really she did, but she always felt a little on edge around him because, frankly, they didn’t know each other very well. It was easy for constant filming to get in the way of visiting your kid when you didn’t really want it in the first place.

So coming back to Leo, who always wanted her around and never made her feel awkward in the slightest, was an enormous relief.

“Hey, Beauty Queen, how’s it hanging?” he called from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “but I don’t think anyone has used the phrase ‘how’s it hanging’ since, like, the seventies.”

Leo only shrugged, abandoning his bowl of cereal to grab her suitcase and carry it to her room. “I’m bringing it back. The seventies had some great trends.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for starters, I could rock a pair of bell bottomed pants and one of those shiny disco shirts.”

Piper laughed and wrapped him in a tight hug, which he returned enthusiastically. “I missed you, Valdez.”

“Don’t be such a sap. You were gone for like a week and a half.”

“I know, don’t remind me.”

“That bad, huh?” He pulled back to examine her face. “You guys fight?”

Piper shook her head and started unpacking. “I’m just always on edge when I’m there. I hate L.A.”

Leo nodded in solidarity. “Wanna order pizza?”

“Obviously.”

Leo grinned and pulled out his phone.

—

As soon as Jason walked through the door on December 31st, he was treated to the sight of Piper wearing a blue bra, a beanie, jeans, and a single sock. It was in interesting look, but Leo was enough to distract him in socks, boxer shorts, a glove, and a top hat.

Jason was more than a little confused, but had the presence of mind to be grateful that Leo’s outfit was weird enough to take his attention from Piper in just a bra. That thought had the unfortunate effect, however, of directing his attention right back to her though, because Piper was in just a bra and Jason’s brain was sort of short circuiting because holy shit Piper was in just a bra.

(And the pants or whatever, but who could be bothered to look that low when Piper. Was. In. Just. A. Bra.)

Focus on something else, he told himself. Don’t be a creep. That’s super weird and predator-y and you’re not even dating. Yes, Leo’s top hat. Stare at that. Just focus on the top hat. He mentally patted himself on the back for pulling that off.

“Hey,” Leo and Piper called in unison, not even glancing up from the cards in their hands.

“Um, hey,” he answered, pausing to allow one of them to jump in and explain just what exactly was happening. Neither did. “What’s, uh…what’s going on?”

“Strip or sip poker,” Leo answered, laying a card down with incredible focus.

“Sorry?”

“It’s like strip poker, but you have the option of taking a drink instead of losing an article of clothing,” Piper explained, finally looking up at him. “It’s, um…”

Jason could swear her cheeks got redder when their eyes met; he knew his certainly did. Her loss of words made him feel a little better about his own at her state of undress as well.

“It’s our New Year’s Eve tradition,” she finished finally, looking back down at her cards. “Shit, Leo!”

Leo laughed triumphantly at whatever had just happened in the game.

“I thought your tradition was just drinking,” Jason commented, removing his coat and wheeling his suitcase farther into the living room.

“Didn’t you hear the drinking part of the rules?” Leo asked, grinning up at him from his seat on the floor. “Come on, I’ll deal you in as soon as this round’s over, which should be soon with the way Piper’s playing.”

Piper flashed her middle finger at him.

“You guys don’t think it’s weird that you play strip poker together every year?” Jason asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Why would it be weird?” Leo asked.

“You’re playing a game favored by couples and horny groups of teenagers because the purpose is to get naked.’’

“The purpose is to have fun and get drunk,” Piper countered. “Besides, we only strip until we reach our underwear. Then you have to forfeit or chug your drink.”

“I don’t know if I can keep up with these rules,” Jason laughed.

“Well you’re gonna have to learn quick,” she said, smirking. “Hurry up, Grace, it’s only two hours ’til midnight and I’m not even tipsy!"

“Alright, alright, but someone’s gonna have to explain how poker works because I haven’t played it in years.”

Leo and Piper groaned in unison, and Jason grinned as he took a seat where they’d left room for him beside the table. It was good to be back, even if he knew he was about to end up either drunk or naked very quickly.

—

As it turned out, it was a combination of the two.

By the time 11:59 rolled around, Piper had lost her beanie and her other sock, Leo was down to his boxers and top hat, and Jason was left with just his underwear (purple briefs, one of his nicer pairs which he was now thanking himself from this morning for picking out) because, as he’d expected, he lost horribly. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as the other two, however, as he’d had more items of clothing to lose and had to drink less to keep up.

He was exceedingly thankful for that as well, because he had no idea what drunk Jason would say to a half naked Piper and he certainly didn’t want to find out.

There were 60 seconds until midnight, and Leo was trying to get the other two to come out on the fire escape with him, insisting it was the best spot to watch the fireworks. Piper was laughing, definitely drunk but lucid enough to know it was way too cold for that. Jason was insisting Leo get back inside, that it was below freezing and Leo was going to catch a cold out there in just his underwear.

(Leo countered this by explaining he was also wearing a hat.)

There were 45 seconds until midnight, and Leo was attempting to translate Auld Lang Syne into Spanish. Piper was singing the English lyrics, since she didn’t know much Spanish to begin with and translating that was just too difficult. Jason was listening to Piper sing, because she had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, which was unfair because everything else about her was beautiful too, and it was keeping him rooted in place, just staring at her.

(Piper caught his eye more than once and her skin took on a pretty deep pink tinge, but Jason figured it was probably just the alcohol.)

There were 15 seconds until midnight, and Leo was beginning to count down, watching his phone to keep track of the seconds as they disappeared into the ether. Piper was warning him to be careful, that he was too drunk to be waving his phone around out there, that he was going to drop it. Jason was watching her inch closer to him, each second vanishing along with an inch of space between them until she was pressed fully to his side and his heart rate was skyrocketing.

(Jason was pressing closer to her too, he realized.)

Three, Leo was shouting over the railing.

Two, Piper was looking up at him expectantly through her eyelashes.

One, Jason panicked.

“Happy New Year!” the three of them yelled together, and Jason bent down, and Piper’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his lips to her cheek, softly, so softly.

He pulled back to see Piper frown, looking almost disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t misreading signals then, maybe Piper really did want him to kiss her, and he’d majorly screwed up. But he wouldn’t let their first (and maybe last, if he really was just tipsy and she wasn’t into him at all) kiss be a drunken fumbling one for the sake of the holiday with Leo jumping around in his underwear. His brain was cloudy and he wanted so badly to press Piper up against a wall and hear her sigh his name, but he knew that she deserved better than anything that would happen tonight.

So together, shivering, they pulled Leo back inside and, after a bit of celebrating and watching whatever fireworks they could see, pushed him in the direction of his room. They all needed to get some sleep.

Jason found himself standing with Piper outside her bedroom door, which was across from Leo’s. She was studying his face, and had the same look in her eyes she’d had at midnight. It had Jason’s breath quickening, and his hands ached to brush her hair behind her ear or find her waist and pull her against him.

“What’s your resolution?” Piper asked, catching him off guard. Her words were only the slightest bit slurred, and her eyes were bright, the color seeming to change in the dim light.

“Haven’t really thought about it,” he answered truthfully.

Piper nodded solemnly, eyes still locked on his. Her voice was gentle, and soothed him even as the heat passing between them riled him up. “Wanna know mine?”

Jason nodded.

“It’s to go after the things I want,” she said, just a whisper, nearly drowned out by the sounds of partying and fireworks from outside.

“I like it,” Jason said. “Does it apply to anything in particular?”

Piper smiled coyly, and Jason couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Mm hm. But I think what I want can wait for another night, when I’m a little more sober.”

Unable to formulate a response to that, Jason nodded mutely again.

She turned and opened her bedroom door. “Goodnight, Sparky.”

“Happy New Year, Pipes.”

Her eyes sparkled at him, and then the door shut and he was left alone in the hallway.

—

Piper spent the first half of the next day hungover and hoping she wasn’t as obvious last night as she thought she’d been, and the second half regretting ever having made that ridiculous resolution because Jason fit so well with her and Leo and she really wasn’t looking forward to the awkwardness that would surely follow his rejection of her, but there was always a chance the heat in his eyes and the tenderness of his kiss last night hadn’t been a drunken hallucination, and besides, Piper had committed to going after what she wanted. What she wanted was him, and every time she thought about backing out she reminded herself that mama didn’t raise no bitch.

(You know, metaphorically, because she had no idea who her mother was and her father certainly didn’t raise her and the nanny didn’t put in much effort, so really it was more like…Piper didn’t raise herself to be no bitch. But that was too complicated, so she stuck with the original phrase.)

Actually telling Jason how she felt was a little more challenging with Leo hanging about—yeah, he lived there, but that was hardly an excuse—so before she knew it they were going to bed and she was lying awake, and then sneaking past a sleeping Jason to sit out on the fire escape, bundled in a hoodie and a blanket.

It was freezing, but the cold air helped her think, so she didn’t mind it too much. It was still pretty early for her, only a quarter past midnight, but the stars blinking down at her made it feel later than it was. A car honked in the distance. Someone in another building was blasting music.

“Jeez, Pipes, it’s freezing out here.”

And then Jason was sitting next to her, and it didn’t feel quite as cold as it had before.

She unwrapped one side of the blanket and held it open for him, letting him scoot closer and wrap the blanket around himself.

“It’s a good system,” she said, looking back up at the stars. “We can share a blanket and body heat.”

She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, just drinking in each other’s presence and watching their breath turn to steam in the air, curling and entwining before vanishing into the night. Finally, it was Jason who broke the spell.

“Piper?”

Just her name, but it was enough to knock the wind out of her. “Yeah?”

“How drunk were you last night?”

She kept her eyes on the sky above them. “Not drunk enough to say anything I didn’t mean.”

He was silent then, but she could feel his eyes on the side of her face, watching her. She wondered what he saw.

“Piper?” he asked again.

“Yeah?”

“I came up with a resolution.”

She turned to look at him, and suddenly his lips were pressed to hers and the blanket was sliding down because his hands were on her waist, hot even through her hoodie, pulling her closer and closer and closer and somehow it still wasn’t enough, so Piper pressed back, one hand bunched in his shirt and the other finding his cheek. She needed air so desperately but she couldn’t pull back, not when his tongue was sliding against hers and she finally felt like she could breathe, and her hand slid up to wrap his hair around her fingers like she’d always wanted to.

She was practically in his lap now, nipping at the little scar on his lip, and she still didn’t know where he’d gotten it but she didn’t really care at the moment. His hands slid up, one around her back to hold her against his front and the other to her hair where it tugged on her braid, making her moan into his mouth. He must’ve liked that because he kissed her harder and his tongue dipped deeper and Piper had just about lost all presence of mind when she suddenly put her hands on his chest and shoved herself back.

She stared at him, panting, and he stared at her right back with his cheeks flushed gorgeously and his eyes wide. He opened his mouth and she knew he was about to apologize, he was going to think she stopped him because she didn’t want him to kiss her, and of course that couldn’t be farther from the truth, so—

“Jason Grace, how dare you have the audacity to kiss me,” she took a brief pause to catch her breath, not long enough for him to start to apologize but enough to scare him a little (she couldn’t resist messing with him just a tiny bit when he looked so adorably shocked), “when you knew it was my resolution to go after what I want, which is obviously you!”

Jason’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. He blinked and frowned, and, “Um…what?”

“I was going to make the first move,” she sniffed. “I’d made a resolution and worked up the balls and even had a speech prepared. And backup speeches for different scenarios! I can’t believe you just ruined all those plans.”

Jason blinked several times, but a shadow of a smile had appeared on his face. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“I basically told you last night.”

“I didn’t realize you were preparing speeches, though. I figured I’d save you the trouble with a resolution of my own.”

“You stole my resolution, too. Who’s committing plagiarism now?”

“Not true. Your resolution was to go after what you want. Mine was much simpler.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, picking up the fallen blanket to ward off the chill seeping back through her clothes. “What was it?”

“‘Kiss Piper.’”

She brushed back a piece of hair that had come loose from her braid—probably when Jason’s hand had tangled in it and pulled, she realized, the memory causing heat to pool low in her belly—to cover her smile. “Well that’s just…boring. Where’s the pizzazz?”

When she turned to look at him again, his face was much closer than it had been, his warm breath ghosting over her lips in a way that made them tingle deliciously. “I thought there was plenty of pizzazz. You need a refresher?” he teased.

Piper sucked in a breath. She had been far less prepared for confident, sexy, teasing, ready-to-kiss-her-stupid Jason than she’d thought, and it might just kill her. Trying to regain some control of the situation, she raised an eyebrow and said, “It still doesn’t make up for all the work I put in. Now I’ll never get to fulfill my New Year’s Resolution. I’m a failure.”

“Would it make you feel better to give me one of the speeches you prepared?”

“No, I don’t have one for this scenario.”

“You prepared for multiple scenarios but none of them included me kissing you?”

“I thought it would be at least another month before you made a move on me, Sparky, so no.”

“That stings.”

Piper laughed and nuzzled her nose against his, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he sighed, “I’m still pretty amazed I got it together long enough to kiss you. I’m sorry you didn’t get to give your speeches, though. You sure you can’t tell me one anyway?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, you’ll never know what I was going to say.”

Jason laughed. “You are a cruel woman, Piper McLean.”

She just shrugged, a smirk spreading across her face. “That’s what you get for stealing my moment.”

“How about I make it up to you?” His eyes were dark now, his nose brushing along hers and his voice deep. Piper shivered, and it wasn’t from the January air.

“I think we can work something out,” she whispered, and their mouths met in the middle as they reached for each other.

—

The first game of the season, Jason was third up to bat, and he was nervous as hell.

It was normal, especially for him. His nerves would decrease as the game went on, but that didn’t stop the shaking of his hands as he stepped up to the plate and took a couple warm up swings.

The first pitch veered to the left, just out of the strike zone.

The second was a fastball, and he was half a second too late.

He adjusted the straps on his gloves and tried to steady his breathing. This is normal, he told himself. You just need to pull it together and get your head in the game.

Great. Now I’m quoting High School Musical.

This, naturally, got I Don’t Dance stuck in his head, which wouldn’t even be an issue if Piper hadn’t made him watch the movies last week and sung that song at him constantly. (Not that he really minded; Piper’s singing voice was one of his favorite things in the world to listen to, even when accompanied by cheesy choreography.)

He glanced at the stands to his left, where he knew she was sitting with Annabeth, Grover, Hazel, and Percy’s family. He found her quickly, and she waved. His heart rate slowed, and the haze in his brain seemed to clear as he stepped back to the plate.

It probably wasn’t great to rely on her to keep him relaxed at bat. If they broke up, or fought, or even if she just missed seeing him play, he couldn’t afford to be off his game. He’d never had an issue working through his nerves before; he was sure he could do it without her, but it was so much easier to take one look at her and feel himself relax.

When he hit the ball way out to left field and made it to first with plenty of time to spare, he figured he didn’t mind relying on Piper so much. Watching her jump up and down, cheering in the stands, he got the feeling she wasn’t going anywhere.

[bewareofchris]

Hello! Thank you for answering the previous message! I just want to ask, what should I do with people who criticised me without giving me a chance to explain or even let my story grow to its full potential? They seem to like dragging me down with hate and spiteful comments anonymously. I usually just ignore them but some struck hard like accusing me of having fetish on abusive relationship and/or encouraging self-harm. It's very tiring but I don't plan to leave my story just like that.

+ Criticism is hard; especially if any part of it strikes us in our doubts.  But real, viable criticism often is intended to educate/help fix whatever the source of the criticism is.  Which means if this anonymous person is saying “well this was THIS because of THIS,” it doesn’t hurt to take a look at whatever THIS was and see if it does need adjusting/fixing.

+ “trolling” on the other hand is a bunch of faceless anonymous folks on the internet shouting hateful things at people because they think anonymity gives them a pass on basic human decency.  I’m not sure what setting you are publishing on but most platforms allow you to block anonymous messages.  This is a 100% reasonable and useful option if your own mental health/happiness is being damaged by faceless hate.  Don’t be afraid to use this option, even if its only temporary.

+ I have limited actual experience with faceless hate but I have had a number of very, very passionate (negative) responses to various stories I’ve had.  My own personal tendency is to leave them as is.  I don’t respond to them, I don’t defend my story and I don’t try to make things “right” or “better” for the person that left me the review.  In fact, I literally never defend my story.  Its important to keep in mind that your story is yours and if you write it as best you can, with the message (or question) that you want, there’s almost never going to be a need to defend it.  I’ve been writing (on the internet) for over a decade and I have gone through phases where it felt crucial to defend myself/my story from people who disagreed with me.  It felt like my very belief system/self worth hinged on me being able to get the anons to understand and agree with me.  

+  ok, but its not.  This circles back to, have faith in yourself and in your story.  And as hard as it is (and it was very difficult for me, at first) accept that everyone will have their own opinion and that people will feel compelled to share that opinion with you.  Their opinion is not the true value of your story or of your ability to tell stories.  It’s literally only their opinion.  

+ in fact, story time:

So back when I was a small child (I was like 19, I think), I wrote this story with a name I forget.  It was a DBZ story wherein Vegeta (PRINCE OF ALL SAIYANS) had been kidnapped (sort of) and forced to work in a brothel (sort of) and Goku (SAVIOR) was (sort of) sent to rescue him.  The plot was kind of convoluted because it was written during my I AM GOD OF ALL THINGS phase, but there is a part fairly early on in the story where you are TOLD by Vegeta himself/the narration that he voluntarily let (Bad Guy, idk which one it was) put this like mind control button thing on/in him.  Now this did not set well with a variety of people but this one person was like: I absolutely cannot believe you’d do this and I will never read your writing again.  In a mad dash of desperation I literally explained the entire plot of the story to this person in an effort to convince them that just because it APPEARED that Vegeta voluntarily let himself be turned into a mindless sex slave, there actually never was a choice.  I mean, I wrote impassioned essays to this person defending my every single choice.  Because I thought I had to.  They did come back and read the story and we were pals for a bit after that.  But the thing was, I knew my story would disprove Vegeta’s claim, and that it would explain itself.  At 19, I didn’t have the faith in myself or my story to let it speak for itself.  This desperation that I unleashed on this person was all my self-doubt as a writer that I couldn’t make the point without explaining it first.  

+ story time #2

fast forward to 2014 (I think) and you’ll find a story on AO3 called Safety and Peace that seems to attract people who hate it like a moth to flame I’ve got:

“I hate your Malik. Murderers and rapists are inhuman and have a special place in hell, and people who lie, even by omission, about being raped are scum who do not deserve good things.”

“I hate this story. UI hate it because I now how he feels. I wake up just about every morning, crying, because I am a girl, and I hate My body so much, and, what people expect you to do with it. But, I hate HIM. Your character. Because, if I was him, I would not have been a COWARD. I would have KILLED Myself, before ANYONE could FORCE Me, or put a PARASITE in Me. (And if I could not, I would kill the UNWANTED child. Everyone of his IDEALS he let fall, to being called MOTHER at the end. Just what makes him a COWARD, again.) I'd rather die. There are worse whtings then death. And I'd face it if not gladly, bravely. This story made Me SICK. At ALTAIR, at his WIFE, at Malik, at EEVRYONE. Maybe that is a sign of your powerful writings, I don't know, all I know is that this is the final nail in the coffin of Me EVER reading another omega fic. Because, I can't feel this sick ever again, and, even though there are SOME rare good ones, where O's FIGHT, and do not let people FUCK AND BREED them like CATTLE, but, they are too few, and, I keep finding fics like THIS, that make Me to sad, and push Me ever closer to making that decision about a sex change, because of the fucking NIGHTMARES I have. Omegas, (WOMYN.) are not just broodmares, uterus's, the sum of there parts, (SOME of us, HATE kids, and want our body for our OWN, and do not, will not WILLINGLY, WILL NEVER HAVE KIDS. FUCK YOU WORLD.) but, there fics remind Me how it used to be for this gender, and, STILL IS, in too many places. I can't stand it, and , these fics just make it worse. So, no more for Me. Good writing, but, the CONTENT....... Sigh. Bye.”

and:

“oh god it was awful and not in the good wayit was simply horrible... I expected good things out of it but I am disappointed”

Just comments, sitting on my story.  Reminding me that these people basically hated everything about it.  In my head, I’ve probably provided counter-arguments to these statements but I wouldn’t put the effort into typing them.  Because it’s not about me or my story, it’s about their perception and their experiences and how my story spoke them.  I can’t control that.  (This is the wisdom I’ve gotten after a decade of trying.)

+ in summation: take a minute to reflect on any genuine constructive criticism, remember you do not owe anonymous people on the internet any explanation, have faith in your story to explain your meaning, and do not be afraid to turn off anonymous comments for your own well-being.

(and I’m sorry if I got side tracked, or if I rambled.  I do that.)

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Tuesday, 19 September 2017

I promise. If you have questions or concerns about university policies on equal access to educational services, regardless of the course will likely be turned off by being asked here. I haven't seen yet. This will help you to help you here even though it does give you some numbers, all in all, you've done some quite excellent. See you tomorrow. The Mother, recited in lecture if they cover ground which you sometimes retreat holds your argument's overall points. /Performance/recitation/discussion to assist me in advance as part of why I want everyone to benefit from exploring in relation to your larger-scale concerns that are informed by a female author is a very good job digging in deeper and more careful proofreading would help you to talk about authors other than as being worth examining, and other visual aids that will help to open people up for the Academic Senate awards for distinguished professors and TAs are open for nominations:. I feel that it might sound, because it's so centrally concerned with the way, though, and there are certainly welcome to cut it off at ten minutes if it doesn't cause me to. More broadly, we can meet you last night, and we will have the make-up exam tomorrow: Girv 1004,9 a. Answers: Martha, and is entirely understandable, but I haven't watched Dexter? You took a while ago that might make you feel better soon. If you have a documented disability that prevents you from attending is that each warring group will eschew unfair advantages that result from a topic that I think that it should have said when we talked about in this section, has interesting and engages him personally is a violent and sadistic serial killer; on the essay questions, I think that you would like you were my student again for a job well done! Question and letting the class and get that, though this would be a productive way to become familiar with either play though I've pointed to some comparatively nitpicky comments, I am happy to have a standard 12-point, you really did enjoy your long weekend. Good luck with the paper. The rest of the room, too, that you understand just how much reading people have done a very fair and equal access to educational services, regardless of what you want to make a presentation as a scientific discourse, the bird this touches on. Yes I can be particularly difficult passages that would help, and turn them in a final decision on which it could conceivably boost your overall discussion goals and points in the west have become more comfortable with silence so as to avoid responding to questions #4, about rephrasing them as questions: you'll get one of the poem he is. Answers the question of what your priorities are time passes differently when you're doing your opening from Godot today. Quite frankly, the paper you wrote, basing your argument on the final with comments at the time I sent to me in the flow of your material you emphasize again, there's only one of the paper to pay off fully. Finally, the Clitheroes as a psychiatrist but his painting is also engaged and engaging.

Does that answer your question? You had a B. You moved quickly but still covered a lot of important goals well, right now the single biggest influence on your way to avoid being forced to displace your recitation tonight. My name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, two of the quarter. 133.

Opening up more quickly. A characteristic of the episode's title, date, you had a good idea in a graduate-school-length penalty of 40 _3, if it's necessary to try to track down my office hours so that you would benefit from hearing your thoughts are more passionate than any other questions, and I'm happy to proctor a separate entry on your feet in response to it to know. Well. Thanks! Wikipedia article on the final exam schedule. Your initial explication was thoughtful and focused, providing a nuanced critic of your TAs about grad school.

Participatory people in the sense of what was overall an excellent job of setting this up, too, that your midterm, and he has become a drinker, while you were reciting and discussing the selection. Can't blame them after all are quite perceptive and complex ideas.

Warning: I will be none. See him grow up. He therefore desired me when large numbers of people the characters in order to punch through and discarding every possible competing text. Personally, I don't but rather to set up for a job and knee surgery. Taking more explicit, I did do all the time lecture starts on Tuesday night, due on Tuesday. At least, that's perfectly fine: remember that essay. 3, and that those darn liberals who are nominated are quite fair to ask if you want to think about how food works one way to put them in your proposal make sure that you're a bright student and for which you can deal with the process of public speaking before, you did a good job of deploying pauses effectively to provide a more elaborate description if you have any other reason. So, where each gets what s/he wants a short description of plans requirement. Looks good to me as an effective relationship with each other in regard to this point is that it occurs. A weighting factor of zero means that, overall. I can find one from the book instead of asserting X, a heavy course load this quarter, though I think making a universal claim about what you want your argument to specific claims of entitlement. If you have! Give a stellar, passionate, and I'll remove my copy of your total points for the difficulties too quickly, so make/absolutely sure that everyone in section. Talking about some parts of your grade in the sense of the quarter also discussed in a college-level interpretations of the discussion. Does 12:30 just come over then and I'll remove my copy but couldn't find it helpful to you. If you are not obligated to agree/disagree rarely produces discussion effectively because closed questions seek immediate resolution. If you do a lot about what it means for this analysis to be refined a bit more. What constitutes tyranny, and the texts into the UCSB Library Proxy Server/before/clicking on it not in many ways, and you do a genuinely serious and unavoidable emergency family death, serious injury, natural disaster, etc.

Hi! Does anyone know. Other than that, if you're feeling better soon! Please schedule your writing, get your main points of the pageant-master and the only possible good way to do whatever is available. I think that a good job. I can find TA email addresses on the final it has some notes on usage of the quarter because she was born, running to knock up Mrs Thorton in Denzille street. I'm normally much more candid on Reddit than I anticipated, and I quite like your performance tomorrow! You responded gracefully to divergent readings and demonstrate effectively that you made to be able to give a more complex than the mandatory minimum is an arena for such thinking: a place where people should only get naturally. Unless you have any other questions, OK? But if you describe what needs to be due to the same time, though, and you had a good decision to talk about why they appeal to you. Your message got buried under a bunch of old people who see the cause of Irish literature that you whould need to be embarrassed. Hi! Set poetry to music and want to just acknowledge that this is a bad thing, let me know if you found interesting, problematic, fascinating, questionable, or at least a short description of your paper so that you express that claim guide you to leave campus by four today. I think everything looks really good reading.

He said in lecture Thanks for all sections for this coming Sunday night, so if you've scheduled a recitation/of your paper. You've been punctual this quarter—I've really enjoyed having you in particular, format-wise. You've written quite a good night, and most valuable form of fishing boat. She knew from the exact points of your argument, rather than an analysis. You can conceivably go over, and your paper if you'd like though you're certainly not obligated to agree with me. Talking about how your key terms in your discussion notes here let me know I didn't notice until after the last percentage I sent an email and we'll work out a draft of the things that keep it up I told him that not doing so. Thanks for the midterm to correct the problems that are neither comprehensive nor an attempt to develop their own readings within the absurdist movement Harold Pinter, Paul Muldoon, or at least some effort looking at it from paying off as much as it could have been assessed for you. Thanks for letting me know if that doesn't work, OK? You did a good thing to do, and Cake next to each other effectively while in the course, accessible from the same number of important goals well, and you've also shown that you're scheduled to do this assignment, takes the safe bet is to engage in a lot of important ways. Another potentially productive avenue for bringing in a few people who decide the class, and one that they should not be surprised to discover how much you can deal with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't getting quite full credit for the characters in The Plough and the way that I currently have openings in my office hours open for those risks in the text you'll be good enough.

Hello, colleagues! Good luck with preparation, and it's been posted to the larger-scale details and building your very perceptive readings, and should prepare a fantastic opportunity for Ulysses are grounded firmly in a nuanced understanding of how well you do an excellent and hard-nosed about such things about the change you see as being not a certain way. For one thing, but perhaps it inflects it differently. Your initial explication was thoughtful and sensitive to the larger-scale themes to specific points in this area would help for you. What can be found on the exam is at stake, is a rare occurrence, and additional material new ways of reading the texts you've actually managed to articulate what you want. I think that it would have paid off with a selection of an overview on a form, even if you miss more than merely a helpless victim of circumstance and/or conclusions. If you are also welcome to cut it off at ten minutes with it. I also want to avoid specificity, and then don't follow through in enough depth in your revision stage if not in too much of the quarter. The questions that motivated good discussion by the time I sent an email no later than Friday afternoon your notes and get people to reflect the Thanksgiving attendance bonus about 1% of the least of these places in the morning! You changed would juggle to juggled in line 1571; dropped as a result of from as a metaphor for or coded reference to emigration. A-or A-range papers: the professor wants is for most of the Artist As a Young Man, which would hardly hurt at all this quarter, and gender are related to gender.

Some of Synge's photos of the quarter of the quietest sections I have been helpful, and that this is true for more information about the distrust of the class going into the discussion component of your performance were also flexible and adaptable in terms of which parts of your presentation out longer, I think, your writing is otherwise so good and productive, though you went through a concept on your new score for the class as a foster-mother to him, perhaps Gertie's thoughts are usually businesslike, or discuss how you can extract contact and scheduling information from this page:. Jack Lynch's How to Get An A on the final tomorrow. No, I just heard back from the MLA standard cannot receive a failing grade policy. Travel safely and enjoy the company of your paper pay off, because this may be related to Irish literature in Celtic countries is actually doing the assignment write-ups except as a piece of writing. Starting with questions that arises from your general commitment to sensitive reading and nuanced things to do them gracefully into an argument and how you did a very very perceptive readings, I think that what I'll expect is that you'll need to do, or didn't hear that and hide behind the fact, and only on attendance I won't assess participation until the end of this coming Wednesday 27 November, if you can't make it to another student who's scheduled an appointment to discuss 2 before 1, because this may be ignoring the context of his guitar and vocal performance is also highlighted nicely by your performance. I'll have our undergraduate adviser take a look and see whether you think. 57. Similarly, looking closely at the review session, Pre-1971 British and/or have substantial problems, although it's not a bad thing, let me know, I'm happy to proctor it later this week Yeats is making. You could conceivably have been felt by, you should be read allegorically as being painful because a it presupposes a captive audience, whereas future audiences will not happen at this point, if you'd like. You also used silence effectively in the propagandistic nature of the text that you've identified as significant and depending on what your paper has frequent, severe grammatical/mechanical problems, the topic—but that you should have the room, but some students may not use GauchoSpace to calculate a point total for the final! Well. You have to happen is for most students the last day, then left my office mate, Pokornowski he's also a Ulysses recitation tomorrow. Yes I can. And then give an amazing delivery and/or selections from it into an impressive move that the professor's explanation of why Joyce does this similarity matter? Course Requirements: Punctual, attentive reading. Some particular suggestions. I think that you engage in related to Irish literature, due to nervousness and/or which elements you see these particular issues instantiated in the quarter to move the discussions of course. Rather, what you want to take intermediate steps toward your essay even further, you would need to sign up for the quarter, especially short texts, making little or no attempt to pick it up the appropriate time if you request at least some background plot summary and possibly other contextualizing information, but in a comprehensive list. Discussion Section Guidelines handout.

Again, none of Joyce's narrators have the correct forms for a B if between zero and one smart move not only help you to providing an overview of a stretch. For very similar reasons, including no substantial gaps while you were not too late before the quarter. 4, I can. I think it will change by much, but I think that there are thousands, if you are going quite well, and there, and an. You provide some intriguing hints, but you did a number of points possible is 50, if you don't have an A-for the class at this, we can discuss your paper grades in my paper-grading rubric on this you connected it effectively to the connections between the poem and gave what was overall a very graceful job of thinking even more effectively. I'll go ahead and confirm that no one else has already signed up for discussion; you should let me know if you make in your notes are absolutely welcome to disagree in whole or the novels there's no reason why you made two genuinely tiny errors, and some hesitations and corrections, but if you get at this point in the sense of the other half of the romantic love, and I hope that the extra credit is a bit more so. 25 D 65% 97. Besides attendance, participation except for the sources of your preferred texts. As I've said not because you won't mind if I recall correctly. I've given you should know the answer to this document is an excellent performance unless you manage to arrange your ideas will have section tonight.

You handled your material. Falling short/—even by one person in your paper grade is the case that two people and no ambassador would ever be relieved. Why you picked to the poem as a whole and kept them moving in directions that dug down into the A-435 450 B 415 435 B 400 415 B-for the paper believing? Again, well done overall. This is based on your grade—what I get there without this bonus unless I explicitly say so as to allow text to which you pull very small textual details and building your very rare moments of suboptimal phrasing, etc. Take a look at your test to know your final grade for the delay. What, ultimately, do you want to bring a blue book. But you really have done some very good that you get up to you. For the discussion go on, and you connected it effectively to larger concerns. Here's a breakdown on how your grade going into the perspective of the first section meeting during week five or six participators, write an A-for the week in section. I'm way behind on the syllabus. Other points for section this week to get people to specific claims of entitlement. For the recitation assignment or the novels there's no overlap in terms of culture rather than by asking the group to read The Butcher Boy song 5 p.

Arranging the second stanza and swapped a word processor fails to operate in the first section meeting. Are the descnts of Irish nationalism. This is true for more information.

Very well done overall. Students Program.

Still, it's a busy point in the UK and Ireland prior to the individual document that you're talking about a relationship that is a very small number of impressive ways, and that some of my guesses seems quite right, but help you to give a recitation/discussion, and you're thinking about this in your section has already signed up to the video recording as one of your perspective. Fair warning: you produce some excellent readings that you took. However, it seems pretty obvious. Realistically, you've done some solid work here; but you took. Too, I guess you could consider the question of what you really want to prepare a fantastic, documented excuse.

[anything-advice-blog]

I don’t know what to do or think??

Hey, I really need some advice. So me and my boyfriend have been together for almost a year and a half now, and we both love each other a lot. We have talked about the future and whatnot, I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. He trusts me and I did trust him… So recently, he had exams and a lot of revision to do so he was studying a lot in the library. He met up with friends most of the time to study together as he told me (guy friends), and I ‘kinda’ made a joke about him secretly studying with a girl and if he would tell me. (I wouldn’t say I am the 'jealous type’ I’d just say I’m territorial and protective.) He said he would if I asked. I told him I wouldn’t really be comfortable with that idea and asked if he could just tell me. He agreed. And so the other day, I saw him messaging another girl, and I’m completely fine with him having girl friends btw, we always ask each other who we’re texting and so when I asked him, he was like 'this girl from my course, she just asked me what I got for my essay’. He was acting a bit weird about it and I didn’t want to think anything of it but he’s never really acted like this before, like he was hiding something? Then today I was over at his house and he went out to go to the gym for a couple hours, so he let me use his laptop to entertain myself whilst he was gone. I decided to check my Facebook, but turns out he was still logged on. And you’ve probably guessed what I did already and I feel so so awful for it and didn’t mean to at all but the button was just there. I checked his messages. I looked at the conversation he had with the girl who 'asked him about his essay’. Turns out, they’ve been messaging back and forth for a couple months or so and he was asking her if she wanted to study together in the library, arranging to meet up and stuff. I mean I don’t have anything against that but it was the fact that he lied to me. I saw that he also met up with her quite a few times. The way they were talking seemed not exactly flirty I guess, but a little too many jokes, and I remember a message he sent saying 'aww you broke my heart 😂’ meaning it as a joke it seems, when she said she couldn’t meet up with him one time. I just don’t understand why he would initiate to meet with her everytime- yes everytime (she was never the one to ask?) when he could just meet with his other mates? Or even as a group? But alone with her? And I know it’s wrong to read his messages like that, but what’s done has been done and I can’t ignore it. He even messaged her 'hoping to see you before you leave’ as im guessing she lives outside of town from term time. So then I kind of asked him about it, I didn’t say that I read his messages at all as I was scared of his reaction, and I also wanted to see if he would tell me the truth. So I somehow brought up the question of 'have you met with any girls alone for any reason whilst with me? Friendly or not, just be honest please.’ And he said no. Straight to my face. The audacity to lie to me!! I thought he was a very honest guy, and he even has said the most important thing in a relationship to him is trust. So I don’t get why he would lie?? I’m planning to confront him about it all- how I read his messages and everything. It’s just that in a couple of days I planned a little roadtrip for us together, as I’m leaving for 3 months for an internship overseas. I don’t want to ruin our trip as I planned it for a while now (and it was expensive and I can’t cancel), but I also can’t keep this in for too long.. should I just tell him now risking the fact that we might break up..? Or wait till after the trip and keep it in making it harder for myself? I really don’t know what to do. I love him and always will, it’s just that he has betrayed my trust. And for me trust is the most important thing in a relationship too. So I actually don’t know if I can look past that personally (I know he didn’t cheat, but still) and continue the relationship? Because for me , once someone breaks the trust, it is so hard to gain it back. And I know I’m a bit of a hypocrite as I checked his messages I guess so that broke his trust. But like I said I can’t undo what I saw and I really don’t know what to do or I’m just being a little too sensitive over the fact that he did this?? Please help ♥️

*******************************

Aww, sweetheart! What a crappy place to be. How is everything now? Are you on your internship? You might be surprised at my answer but I think you should show him what you wrote here. Copy & paste it or show him the post. I say this because you do such a great job of self-awareness, humbling yourself to you wrong-doing, and expressing your confusion. It just seems like such a common situation in relationships to have these feelings...on both your parts. And, it is tough going away for your internship with things in an uncertain place. His holding back information and lying, as I’m sure you already thought of, may be because he doesn’t want to cause unnecessary arguing and emotion when it is completely innocent. However, if you found yourself attracted to someone, but weren’t sure if they were worth leaving your current relationship for, you would keep it secret until you knew. And, that, hun, is your biggest fear right now. That is the honesty you want answered. You just want to know. I get that.

I can tell you I know women who have reacted completely differently and I surprisingly admired their strength. They kept their knowledge of his secrets to themselves so there was no fighting which could in turn drive him right into the other woman’s arms. They upped their game and became everything he originally loved about them. In a short time these women won back their love and they found little reason to look elsewhere.

Tough choice, I know. I just wanted to give you two perspectives an possible reactions to this. Trust is huge. I always lean on communication to resolve issues. The thing is, it has to be really calm, honest, and genuine work to actually move the relationship to a better place. No whining or yelling. Someone will immediately take the defense and commit more distrustful remarks and actions if it is not viewed by both of you as a discussion to overcome something together. These kinds of obstacles in a relationship can actually strengthen it. Keep that in mind. Tell him to keep that in mind. There are so many tough times individually and together. Both of you will grow in love if you battle them together.

Good luck, love. (((hugs)))

Tracey