it's just lazy.

Ah ah ah, don't blame the time on your wrist for not doing what makes you tick. Don't blame the clock on the wall for running round with nothing at all. So I say oh oh baby Take your feet out your shoes and go crazy. Don't just dream in your sleep, it's just lazy. Are we having a fight, or are we dazing? Baby, Don't just dream in your sleep. it's just lazy.

[hartlcys-blog]

fckellict.

elliot walked the bottle of vodka over to the kitchen, setting it on the counter and taking two glasses out of the cabinet, smiling to herself as she glanced at him from across the room. he had always looked cute when he was focused like that, like really focused. she grabbed cranberry juice from the fridge and poured them each a fairly strong vodka cranberry. as she was walking back and he mentioned her first answer had been right, she sighed in slight frustration as she plopped down beside him. “i can’t believe i was right the first time.” she murmured, setting down their drinks on the coffee table in front of them. “thanks for checking that for me, babe.” she added, pecking his cheek, and reaching over to sip from her drink. 

“i think that’s all the homework my brain can handle today,” she added, shutting her calculus textbook and laptop, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. “time to get drunk!” she exclaimed, her voice reading a playful tone, even though she had been one hundred percent serious.

he’s glancing over the rest of her answers, a rare look of concentration covering his features as he does. he actually cares enough to go the extra mile for her, and besides --- it takes him all of two minutes to have completed each question mentally and double checked his (and her) answers. he’s blessed that he can do math so speedy, considering his short attention span that would get him kicked out of college if he had to spend more than a few seconds on each problem; it’d never get done. 

“you’re doing great,” he hums as he finishes, eyes flicking back over to her with a familiar sparkle. those words are his favourite coming from her lips --- or perhaps that’s his name when she’s in pleasure, hm. unimportant currently. he’s getting plenty of a kick from hearing homework time is over, and he’s taking his vodka cranberry like a man being offered his first taste of water in weeks. “mmm, perfect!” he exclaims upon tasting it, lips shining with the red juice. 

[hartlcys-blog]

zlberres.

Txt || Hartley

Zelda: I’m bored. Let’s go out? ❤️

Hartley: sure! where we headed?

[hartlcys-blog]

lucasaaronwright.

As he was sitting on an, kinda old, but still usable bench outside, Lucas turned the page of the book he was reading. It was his favourite book; The Essential Neruda by Pablo Neruda. He had read it at least seven times from start to finish, but still he never got bored of it. It was something about the poems in this book that just let him go to his own headspace. He tapped his knee gently with his fingers as he let his thoughts totally dive in the book.

He didn’t even bother to turn his eyes from to book to see the person who had just sat next to him at the bench. He just tried to ignore them until he would finish this page...just this page.

“Hey.” Lucas said calmly, still keeping his eyes on the book.

Hartley should learn to stop bothering people. He should’ve learned that a lifetime ago, but, well --- it just isn’t his style to let someone sit alone and read without pestering them for a bit. He’s got nothing against someone else reading (he’d rather avoid it himself, personally), but he has a whole lot against being bored, which is a feeling weighing him down heavy currently. 

“Hi,” he’s grinning all boyishly as he settles beside them, tapping his feet against the floor and keeping his body moving at all times in some way or another; too much pent up energy to just sit. “What’cha reading?” he doesn’t really care, though it’s not in a rude way. He’s just trying to spark up a conversation that he can steer away from the worn pages. 

[hartlcys-blog]

fckellict.

they were set up in the living room of her apartment, books and each of their laptops set up in a strange pattern all over the big coffee table centered in the room. elliot huffed, frustrated with the math problem she was working on. she had done it twice already, and had gotten two different answers so far. she loved math, but sometimes it made her want to rip her hair out. “i can’t do this.” she muttered, letting out a groan and tossing her pencil down onto her notebook. “i hate this honors calculus class.” she sighed and rubbed her temples for a moment, gazing over at hartley. “help me out before i lose my goddamn mind, please?” she asked. she was almost jealous of how great he was at math, simply because it always seemed like he never struggled.

“i feel like my professor wants us to suffer. like who else assigns all these problems to do in two days?” she mumbled. “i need a drink.” elliot got up from the spot she was sitting at on the floor, walking over to her liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of vodka.

hartley’s being lazy. amazingly, he’s actually done his homework this week --- it’s truly a blessing when elliot forces him to dedicate some time to his studies --- but he’d finished it in under an hour, and since then he’s been lazing around, flicking through the pages of a textbook and admiring his female companion. he’s seen her struggling, but he knows better than to volunteer his services before she asks; people tend to get annoyed with him when he does that. 

“you asked so pretty,” he grins at her, rolling over to get himself sat up and shuffle his bum over to where she’d been sitting moments ago. “i’ll take a drink, too,” he murmurs, pencil already in hand as he begins to scribble on the page. he’s quiet for a few minutes, far quieter than is usual for him, but he figures if he focuses for a short burst of time then they can get this chore out of the way and he can help her in far more satisfying endeavours. “you were right the first time, you just missed a step with your second attempt. easy mistake. the rest of your answers look good.”

[camxnoel-updates]

[hartlcys-blog]

delaneymatthews.

“It’s okay,” Delaney smiled, to politely decline. “Chlorine melts nail polish.” It had been a difficult thing to accept, that as a dedicated swimmer it meant that painting her nails had become a futile task. With the amount of hours she spent training in the water, she rarely left with vanish still in tact. When she was seventeen she finally gave up, she supposed it wasn’t too bad, as her nails were in decent condition. “But you should go with the turquoise.” She didn’t tell them her choice was based off of her own love for the colour. 

“ah, a swimmer,” he beams at her, smile so intense that the corners of it dimple. “i like to swim,” but he certainly doesn’t do so often enough to melt the colours off his nails --- not that he keeps it on long enough to prove that, actually. always ends up nibbling it off during class, or any random moment of silence. silence --- who can stand that stuff, right? “turquoise it is. shame about the chlorine; this colour would look amazing with your skin tone.”

[hartlcys-blog]

rcmiks.

“I want to smack the freckles off your face is what I want.” They both know Mik isn’t actually a violent person, but he goes through a period of pretending that he is every time Hartley reappears like nothing happened. He sits opposite him with a cigarette in hand, ignoring anyone passing below, and maybe even going out of his way to blow smoke in their direction to keep them from being tempted to stop and answer. Unfortunately during his period of feign-violence, he’s also fiercely territorial. “Turquoise.”

“you love my freckles,” hartley is wearing a full grown grin now, finding that he’s drawn mik out of the crowd. the happiest coincidence of the day, he’d go so far as to say. “when you’re right, you’re right,” he nods, stowing the purple back in his pocket and giving the turquoise bottle a little shake. “wanna be a doll and share that with me?” he’s tilting his head toward the cigarette, knowing there’s a 50/50 chance of rejection. maybe if he just bats his annoyingly long lashes a few times...

[hartlcys-blog]

ryanyikes.

The mundane parts of Ryan’s day were some of his favourite, the moments where he could let time pass fleetingly without worrying about the consequences of such escapes was something he found relaxing. At present, the time he was enjoying so much was finishing classes for the day and strolling slowly back towards his house. It was not too far from the campus and he could usually walk it in ten minutes, but at the pace he was currently travelling- it would take him about thirty minutes. 

Although Ryan could not hear anything surrounding him due to the presence of his earbud’s, he did notice the lad sat on the wall as he walked passed- removing an earbud just in time to hear him speak. Ryan glanced down to his nails, admiring the colour and the precision. They did look neat; he had to admit that. “I’m alright at the moment, it would only come off from the chlorine in the pool when I had to practice later, anyway.” Ryan leaned against the wall himself, perching there for a moment to talk to the boy. “Thank you for the offer though.” his hand extended, he was ready to shake the other boy’s hand. “I’m Ryan- nice to meet you.”

“you’re the second person to tell me that today --- is there some sort of convention going on?” he’s teasing, eyes flashing slightly as he hops off the wall to reach out and grasp the other’s hand. he gives it a firm shake, all formal and upstanding since that’s how the other boy, ryan, seems to want to play it. nothing wrong with a bit of polite formality! “and lovely to meet you, ryan. i’m hartley,” he gives him a friendly wink, then sets about blowing on the wet nails of his other hand, careful not to smudge them. “live around here?” 

[hartlcys-blog]

xceania. 

Melody looked up from where she was sitting across from him in the quad. She had been trying to study while he went on painting and she was surprised on how far she got in the study guide when he spoke again. She closed her book and moved closer to him. “Yeah Hartley, what color do you think for me?”

he grins at her, excitement filling his veins like a drug as she approaches. his hands almost tremble with his enthusiasm, though he’ll keep them perfectly steady as he paints --- they need to be picture perfect and precise for his favourite girl! “hmm... purple. definitely purple. it’ll look stunning on you, melody,” he’s already reaching for the bottle, moving the unwanted turquoise out of the way and patting the space on the wall beside him. “come up here, take a seat.” 

[hartlcys-blog]

pwoerthrough.

“Go with whatever makes your heart happy but I will be damned if you touch my nails with that.”

“wise and slightly insulting. impressive,” he snickers, tucking the purple bottle into his pocket. clearly turquoise is the choice his heart desires. “it’s not poison, you know?”

[hartlcys-blog]

alexyikes.

“Uh-” Alex started before scratching at the back of his neck. “… purple?” He hadn’t been at this when Sara was alive and he was even worst now that she was dead. “Seems to match your…. pants?” 

“purple it is!” though he’ll only be wearing these pants today, but who cares about tomorrow? or tonight? it’s right now that counts, and the answer alex gives is perfect for that. “so, what d’ya say? want some purple on yours, too?” 

[hartlcys-blog]

rcsaliekennedy.

“Oh honey with that shirt? Turquoise, but as so painting my nails is that vegan because if not that is not touching my body.” Was Rosie joking? Yes. Was she going to tell this person? No.

“vegan? shit, rosie --- i don’t think we’re eating the stuff. i guess we do use our fingers to put food in our mouths... but either way, i don’t see why they’d put eggs in nail varnish,” he isn’t as dumb as he sounds right now, but his thoughts are racing by so fast it’s hard to stop and actually consider the question. 

[hartlcys-blog]

taleasoldasroselyn.

“Turquoise.” Rosie replied. “I could use a fresh coat on my nails, so okay.”

“you want turquoise too? or we could mix and match?” he smiles at her as though he’s just come up with the best plan of the century --- he seems to do so multiple times a day. 

[aigul-wolf]

[hartlcys-blog]

“--- turquoise or purple?” he only spares a single glance upward from where he’s busy inspecting his newly polish free nails. one might consider this to be an odd location for someone to paint their nails, but hartley’s been unable to decide on a colour for a few hours and has opted to carry a couple round with him for whenever inspiration hits. now, sat outside on a low wall, with strangers passing on by mingled with the occasional familiar face, he thinks the time is right. “i’ll paint yours too, if you want.” 

[hartlcys-blog]

hey friendos. i’m jamie and go by they/them pronouns. i’d love some plots, so hmu or like this so i know to slide into your DMs. bellow the cut is a little about this rascal, and i look forward to writing with you all :D

have you seen cameron monaghan at atlantic view university? Oh --- wait? My bad --- that’s just jenson hartley. the demiboy is twenty one and they are a junior majoring in mathematics. Their friends would describe them as benevolent and colourful, but they would also agree that they can be imprudent and obstinate.

goes by hartley. never jenson. 

eccentric 

extremely smart, especially when it comes to mathematics. 

suffers from bipolar disorder.

very into his own brand of fashion. very unique, pushes gender boundaries often, doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it tbh 

demiboy / he/they. whichever. he gives no fucks about pronouns. 

he doesn’t label his sexuality like... ever. 

he doesn’t even like labelling his gender but he does it just for the sake of getting people off his case asking pointless questions

got a good heart but fucks up a lot

very impulsive, very hard to talk sense into when manic

often comes off his meds just bc he feels great! at the time!

can sleep through class and still ace his grades (it’s ok i hate him too)

he does enjoy education, but he struggles with his attention span and the drive to actually be in college focusing on studies when there’s a whole world outside

when he’s down he’s down

quite a wealthy family -- has never known the struggle of being poor.

he has known the struggle of mental illness though.

his mother is bipolar too and often they’re best friends who are doing reckless shit together and have been since he was too young to remember. she’s always dragged him (her youngest) into her shenanigans.

sadly things can’t always be fun and games though and when he needed an actual mother she could never live up to the task

they butt heads often, but he still loves her

his dad has had to be the stricter parent and hartley has rebelled against it his entire life

it’s strained their relationship, but at the end of the day if he’s really fucked something up, he knows his dad is there to help him. 

he has one sibling who’s constantly in and out of rehab for their drug addiction, and another sibling who’s a complete success and is a CEO.

frankly, it’s the CEO sibling that hartley thinks needs the most help lol.

paints his nails and somehow manages to have nibbled half of it off an hour after it’s finished drying

walks with a confident stride and usually wears a big smile

the big smile means trouble is brewing

always. without fail.

he struggles with thinking about consequences ok.

he will befriend everyone and be so so sociable for a period of time, and then something will stop working in his head and he’ll shut everyone out and cut off all contact for weeks at a time

by the time he hits his next high, he’s ready to bounce back into the social circle and pretend nothing ever happened. 

if cornered, he will make up elaborate lies on the spot and not even fully realise he’s doing it (no consequences, remember?) but he doesn’t purposely go out of his way to lie about shit. 

has a history of self harm and suicidal ideation. he attempted a couple times as a teen, thankfully without success. 

he does have scars. some are hidden, but some aren’t (on his wrists/arms) and if he’s manic and you comment on them he’ll just brush it off with one of his grins and change the subject.

if he’s down, chances are you won’t be seeing any of him. 

sleep? what sleep? he doesn’t know her.

coffee, on the other hand, is his best friend. not that he really needs it tbh. 

he’s a bit of a magpie. if it’s shiny, he’ll collect it. his room is clean but always a mess. always. to say he loves his clothes, he also seems to love using the floor as his wash basket. 

[cameronmonaghanclan-deactivated]