#getschills

@getschills​ said: tbh i feel like there'd be a group of people holding down the 'omg clem is so toxic!' fort & another holding down the 'they're mentawwy iww uwu' fort. the latter writes a lot of fanfic where the power of love makes clem an upstanding citizen or whatever & the former only has them show up in fanfic to be an asshole to their oc/fave. two lines, no waiting, but they're both awful :)

YES oh you’re so right on all fronts. i love this because 1) these two groups are within me at all times fighting for dominance and 2) i would pay real money to see these people fight on the internet

( x ) 

THERE'S NO RIGHT OR WRONG WAY TO BE QUEER/LGBT and also like ... nobody real or fictional needs to come prepared with a 12 page dissertation on why the label they're most comfortable with is 114% accurate in every possible context

(x) 

                 “ i’m not a MOM, i’m like a. . .BIG SISTER. maybe an older cousin figure ? “  sera didn’t know if there was a word to describer for her behavior around alex beyond a w k w a r d. ugh! she is so out of her league! alex is everything she could want in a friend and sera’s going to ruin it all with her own inexperience. she smiles and hopes it comes across as confident. 

"That was, like — actually — it was fun. It was cool."

She sounds vacuous, hollow, unlike herself. The celebrity-infested, glamorous affair Alex had turned Spirit into a plus-one for has left the bleach-blonde feeling shell shock.

She's never felt less fun or less cool in her entire life. Usually, people are trying to impress her, to remain in the good graces of their fairest and least creepy drug supplier. Nobody in the rooms Alex inhabits gives a shit about Spirit's less-than-stellar coke, though.

Their heels click-clack on the cement and, for awhile, it's the only sound vibrating in the air. Spirit worries at her lower lip, drums her fingers against Alex's palm. She can't help but ask —

                                                              ~♢~♢~♢~♢~♢~

The girl rammed into him full force, causing him to drop the cigarette and lighter he'd just fished from his pocket. It wasn't enough to knock him over though, just stumble back a few steps.

"What the fuck?! Watch it!"

When she backed up, that's when Aeron saw the blood on her. Spooked, he jolted back from her. "Holy shit!"

<<Oh, my goodness! You are from the movies! From the movies , from the —>>

His face falls. He's gotten so excited that he has made a huge mistake. Also, who the fuck is he, to accost a celebrity in line to get coffee? (Who the fuck is she, in line to get coffee?)

"Let's just go, baby. Let's just get out of here."

She doesn't say baby in that sickly, needy, pervasive way she usually says baby. She says it like she means it, says it like I'm gonna take care of you, I swear — like how she murmured to Alex beneath the sheets, sunlight slitting through the window, birds chirping and cars honking. Like how things are simple when it's just them and they don't try to go out like this.

She wraps her arm around Alex's shoulder, guides them out of the bar. The bar — one they'd thought dive-y enough, gay enough. Clearly not.

When they're outside, she hugs Alex close. She doesn't care passersby on the street can see.