#smallgun

what cam likes about freddie

what an incredible father he is

his understanding nature

his poetic talent and writing

his inherently english mannerisms

the way his lips always faintly of tea no matter what

ngl, how he's suddenly sexually adventurous like hell yeah high five 

everything ever he's the perfect man it's so upsetting 

what cameron dislikes about freddie

idk probably the fact that daisy and henry low key like him more

like he's the cool parent but whatever she also can't blame them

uh i don't know

probably that he likes to tease her by purposely leaving her alone with johnny on random outings

that's it

cam loves freddie too much

I FEEL THIS SO HARD MY FRIEND! srsly same page, i could not have explained it any better. it goes w/o saying but all of yr writing and yr muses are dope so obvs they’re all welcome to my guys and gals <3

sometimes i am like ash, chill, it's not that serious. BUT I AM HAPPY SOMEONE FEELS THE SAME OK. BUT I LEGIT JUST MISS YOU IN GENERAL.

The sudden shift in weight on the mattress momentarily startled Jane, until she shook herself out of her REM daze and remembered that she was back home. “Hey,” she grumbled, knuckles digging into her eye socket as she attempted to slowly rouse herself and offer up proper amount of attention. “Here —- more blankets. You have cold feet,” the statement was offered to her sister with an audible smile, maneuvering herself so they’d have equal room under the comforter.

"Sorry I’ve been gone," she began quietly, eyes adjusting to the darkness, trained on the cracked ceiling. "Grayson and I have been… busy." As always, it was difficult to find the words for the situations Jane and her partner found themselves in — difficult even with Meg being one of the most understanding people in her life. "I’m sticking around ‘til New Year’s, though. I promise. So maybe we should finally throw that party we’ve been bullshitting about all this time?”

With a final glance around the lecture hall—maybe he slipped in late and sat in the back or maybe he was mad at her for something or other and wanted to sit elsewhere—Brooke frowned down at her phone before tossing it into her bag, which sat alongside her jacket on the seat she’d reserved for Mason. He obviously wasn’t coming, she decided. But why? Just this morning she bumped into him in the hall and he didn’t mention anything about feeling sick or planning to skip class. They were friends. He would’ve told her something like that. Well, perhaps he took a nap and slept through his alarm, she reasoned. Yeah, that was probably it. Brooke went back to dutifully copying down notes from the board but couldn’t focus on a single word she wrote or make sense of anything her professor was saying. Paying attention to lectures was difficult enough on a good day. Her mind was miles away, trying—but failing—to shake away the feeling that something was wrong.