a dream is a wish your heart makes

ella tremaine. 21. lizards, pumpkins, and things.

[havecourageandbekxnd]

TEXT: RAE

Ella: Happy birthday, Rae. :)

[havecourageandbekxnd]

nxthingtoit :

Over the years, Peyton had often imagined how her reunions with her friends might go if she ever managed to make it back to Cherry Grove. While as a group they all had a deep and supportive bond, the individual strands of relationship between them were unique. She would fuss over Gus as though he was her younger brother, teasing good-naturedly when his clumsiness got the best of him and sneaking him the last slice of cake which should have been hers. Although Sherrie sometimes struggled to keep up with her energetic companions, Peyton made sure she never left her behind without making her feel like she was being condescended to because of her illness. As a wriggly seven year old, Peyton hadn’t realised that her overactive competitiveness with Jackson was the sign of a childish crush; although she wasn’t sure what thirteen years and a whole lot of change would do to all her relationships with her friends, she’d hoped they’d all be happy to see her even in the surly state she was in. 

She’d understand if they were cautious with her or not understand the person in front of them. She barely understood herself most days. In Cherry Grove she’d had a balance of male and female influences on her childhood, with the scrapping and tumbling she went through with Jackson countered by picking flowers to plait through Ella’s hair. Her mom had raised her to be who she wanted to be, so she’d embraced her tomboy and girly sides without a care that they contradicted each other. She’d wear her pretty pink dress to climb a tree, or traipse through the kitchen dripping with mud to get her dolls for a tea party - it never made anything except total sense to her. 

Then her mother died, throwing her life into a spin with the realisation she’d be lied to for eight years, making her doubt everything instilled in her by her mom. Moving away from that warm maternal influence to a house of rowdy boys who she desperately wanted to fit in with didn’t help. Whereas at home, she could be herself and accepted by all her friends, in her new life the boys only really bothered with her when she acted like one of them, leading her to play that role more and more until it stopped being a part. Now, in Cherry Grove, all the conflicting thoughts she developed between the giddy eight year old on the brink of losing her mom and the sullen twenty one year old booking her flight to New York collided and she found it difficult to express herself properly.

She’d get if Jackson and Sherrie didn’t want anything to do with this shell of their former friend, since her excitement at seeing them had warred with the embarrassment of all her changing making her defensive and rude. In their eyes she could see how different she really was and it made her squirm because she didn’t know how to go back to the girl who was all rainbows and sunshine and blonde hair and hugs. But Ella… Ella didn’t have a judgemental bone in her body. She’d been counting on her to be the friend who didn’t care the woman who returned wasn’t anything like the girl who’d left, to adapt to the kind of friendship Peyton had to offer which really wasn’t much and wasn’t anything as affectionate as it had once been. Maybe that was too much to ask of someone she hadn’t spoken to in over a decade, but it didn’t stop disappointment flaring up inside of her.

Unfortunately, as with most of her emotions, disappointment came out as irritation instead.

“No, it’s Barack Obama.” She gestured down at her pale skin and leather jacket clad body. “Of course, it’s me!” 

Unlike Peyton, Ella had grown into the adult version of her tiny self. Her warm eyes, currently wide in shock, were perfect copies of her mother’s as was the softly curling blonde hair. Peyton felt a pang in her chest at the thought of the Tremaines, who she’d often hoped would seek out her dad and try to get them back in touch, since they’d practically been a second set of parents to Ella’s gang of friends. That hadn’t happened though, and while she was sure there must have been a good reason for it, it still hurt to think they’d not reached out to reconnect when Peyton’s own dad wanted to sever any links to Cherry Grove to pacify his wife and Peyton herself was far too young to know where to start.

“I… can’t be here?” Peyton repeated slowly, not quite understanding the words until she heard them back in her own voice. “I can’t be here?”

She didn’t want to get angry at Ella, but she’d spent almost every day of her childhood in this building, knew it as well as the apartment she’d shared with her mom. It was almost like being barred from her own home and the thought that she’d get to spend time there again had been one of the factor that outweighed her fears of being plagued with memories of her mom’s illness if she went back to Cherry Grove. This was Ella’s house and as a child she had total control over who was allowed in or out, so why would that be any different as an adult? Clearly, Ella not coming to see her when Jackson told her she was in town joined with the fact she didn’t want to let her into her home meant that she had no interest in rekindling their friendship.

“What the fuck, Ella?” She managed to spit out past her outrage. She could feel herself practically shaking with hurt as she gave a scoff full of bravado. “Look, I get that y’all stayed home an’ didn’t change a thing about yourselves but unfortunately I didn’t get that fuckin’ option, alright? So I’m sorry I tried to force myself back where I ain’t wanted but I figured we were friends.”

She turned on her heel, brimming with anger as she started to storm down the path. “Fuck.” She shouted, mostly to herself as kicked a particularly offensive plant pot in her way. She wanted to leave, but hated going without the answers she’d trudged all this way for. Looking back to find Ella still in the doorway, she raked her hands through her hair then held them up defensively, shaking her head at her former friend. “Seriously, Ella. What the hell?”

It had been a lot of years since Ella had last seen Peyton, and though the girl had dreamed and dreamed of the day that they'd reunite, she hadn't ever quite imagined it to be like this. The last time that she'd seen Peyton had been the funeral. Peyton's mother's, to be exact. It stung to think that such a thought needed clarification, but Ella had found herself in attendance at more funerals than she'd care to admit – and as the years wiled on the number of people at her side had slipped from double digits to single. They'd all been children when Peyton's mother had passed, and no sooner than she'd been buried in the ground, she'd been whisked away from her father, never to be seen again. It was less than a year onwards that Ella's own mother had died, and she'd lost a best friend in the time leading up to it. Her heart felt heavy as she stared back at the girl she'd once known, the same girl she'd rolled around in the dirt with, built sandcastles with, rode Major with – even combed his mane. Peyton hadn't watched the slow and ghastly spiral of Ella's home life, she hadn't seen her world get turned upside down, and it seemed as though even upon arriving in Cherry Grove, she was still none the wiser.

Ella didn't want to be cruel, either – not by any means. She didn't want to turn Peyton away. All that she ever wanted to was to open her arms in a warm embrace, to welcome her best friend back with such glee, and to tell her just how desperately missed her. Ella wanted to hear all about Peyton's life, to soak in that Texan tilt that she'd adopted, to hear all the stories that she must have built up over the years. But, alas, she couldn't do that right now. Right now they were in very dangerous territory. If Ella's step mother even caught so much as a whiff of a stranger on her doorstep, nevermind somebody that looked as Peyton did – frankly, Ella thought she looked lovely, and had she been given the chance to truly take in the girl's new look, she'd have told her just how much it suited her; but Lady Tremaine wasn't quite so open minded.

So, Ella understood the anger that spilled from Peyton when the other girl registered her words. She knew that the fury and disappointment that she was feeling was entirely justified. Ella Tremaine hadn't ever thought particularly highly of herself, and she held no reservations about her place in life, but at the very least she liked to remain an objective party in most incidents. Jackson always told her that she was good at looking at things with fresh eyes, helping him gain perspective where he otherwise might have been a little standoffish. She liked to think of herself as something of a referee between her friends, even when they'd been ever so tiny. She used to settle the most silly tiffs between the group of them, though since her father had remarried, she'd long since discovered it far more of a weakness than a strength. Dizzi had often insisted her behaviour made her something of a doormat, and that she shouldn't be such a pushover. She'd claimed that where Ella saw something more, she was just blind to the fact that some people were just, well... truth be told, she'd used a relatively unsavoury word that Ella didn't take too kindly to, but she'd caught the general gist of what she was implying.

It was in that very moment, staring back at Peyton, the venom dripping from the other girl's tongue, an entirely alien look on her face as she stared back at Ella, a look that Ella had never been subjected to before from Peyton, that she realised just how right Dizzi was. So often she tried to be objective, to understand what might be going on in the mind of her Step Family, to understand just why they were so cruel, but only now did it truly dawn on her just how drastically her life was crumbling beneath her. She was losing all grasp of reality, everything she'd ever known and loved slipping through her fingers, and she couldn't allow it to happen any longer. And, though it pained her to ever raise her voice, she knew that she'd have to take extra measures against Peyton if she wanted to do just that. If Peyton wasn't careful, her yelling would only draw further attention to them, and sooner or later Dizzi, Anne, or the Lady herself, would come blundering in, and before Ella knew it she'd have lost Peyton in the blink of an eye.

She'd take any slap that her Step Mother might have for her, but she wouldn't let them clap eyes on Peyton. Slowly but surely, Ella Tremaine was going to reclaim her life, and if she had to be cruel to do so, even just for a moment, then she would.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Ella snapped, raising her voice to levels so extreme that she could scarcely believe that such volume could spill from a frame so tiny.

She trembled with the weight of having shouted at Peyton, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, her lower lip wobbling, betraying her. She wasn't angry at Peyton, not in the slightest, and a tiny sob escaped her at having been so cruel.

Squeezing her eyes tight shut, a tear rolling down her cheek, she breathed, “I'm sorry, Petyon. Oh, goodness. I'm so sorry!”

With a shaky breath, she tried to compose herself, straightening herself up and meeting the dark haired girl's gaze once more. Shutting the door behind her, fearing the worst that her Step Mother might have already heard her own yells, she slipped down the steps and onto the walkway that lead up to the front door of the manor. Taking a cautious step forward, guilt encased her as she encroached on Peyton's space as she addressed her once more.

“Peyton, I'm so terribly sorry. Can we...” she started, shooting an anxious glance over her shoulder, before facing her friend once more. “Can we go some place else? I promise to tell you everything. I promise.” 

[havecourageandbekxnd]

↳INSTAGRAM: @ellasmiles uploaded a photo:

Just a little something to pass the time. :) (And, look! Peyton showed me how to change my handle. How wonderful!)

[nxthingtoit]

@peytonsays: @ellasmiles never let jackson set up your social media again

@peytonsays: @ellasmiles also your flower thingy is nice

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@ellasmiles: @peytonsays He’s a menace! But we love him. :) Thank you, lovely! You’re a sweetheart. :D

[havecourageandbekxnd]

↳INSTAGRAM: @ellasmiles uploaded a photo:

Just a little something to pass the time. :) (And, look! Peyton showed me how to change my handle. How wonderful!)

[sophisticxtedgrace]

@frozenanna: @ellasmiles A MULTITALENTED QUEEN!!!!!! LOOK AT HER!!!!!!!!!! SHE DID THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@ellasmiles: @frozenanna Oh, Anna! You’re making me blush! You’re too kind.

[havecourageandbekxnd]

↳INSTAGRAM: @ellasmiles uploaded a photo:

Just a little something to pass the time. :) (And, look! Peyton showed me how to change my handle. How wonderful!)

[havecourageandbekxnd]

unmanlyblxndeness :

Kris hoped that Ella knew he was only asking because his mom had told him to. Not because there was anything wrong with asking Ella for coffee, because it wasn’t like she wasn’t pretty or the exact kind of girl that would leave Steven tongue-tied with his hand hovering over a Bunsen burner, but because he didn’t want her to feel pressured to say ‘yes’. Girls weren’t lining up to have coffee with Kris Solberg, after all.

The offer hung in the air until Ella managed to choke out what sounded like a forced acceptance and Kris’ cheeks burned when cheers erupted from his surrounding family members. Any onlookers would have thought he had gone down on one knee and proposed next to the jars of pasta sauce judging by his family’s reaction. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in his hands and make his way back home, but it now seemed like he had a coffee date with an unwilling girl.

When Ella gestured towards the end of the aisle, he figured that her eagerness to get going had nothing to do with getting coffee with him and everything to do with escaping the overly affectionate clutches of his aunt who now seemed fascinated by the task of braiding tiny little plaits into Ella’s hair.

“Okay, let’s get going!” he announced loudly so Aunt Bulda would stop… whatever it was she was doing and free Ella. He shuffled backwards, his little cousin still attached to his leg, and began shaking his foot roughly, letting his irritation show.

“Annika. I can’t take Ella for coffee if you’re sitting on my foot, can I?” he warned through gritted teeth. That soon made the girl jump up and scarper and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she ran over to her father instead and climbed her way up his taller frame. Kris pointedly ignored the suggestive wink his uncle sent him and concentrated on getting Ella out of there instead. With a brief nod to his family, he lead her down the aisle and away from the chaos.

“Offer her your arm!” one of his aunts called from behind the retreating pair. Given that it wasn’t the regency era, Kris opted to ignore this but held his hand out for Ella’s basket instead.

“Here, I’ll carry that for you,” he said so she could transfer the weight of her items onto him instead. It seemed to satisfy his family as he could hear their squeals of approval from the bottom of the aisle where he sent Ella a pained sideways glance and quickly ducked into the next aisle.

He turned to the girl abruptly and winced, “I am so sorry,” he cringed. There probably weren’t enough apologies in the world. “I don’t know why they’re like that, but they’ve been obsessed with my love life ever since I turned like, thirteen. Are your family like that? Probably not. Mine are insane.”

He heaved out a sigh and offered Ella a helpless shrug. “Look, please don’t think you actually need to get coffee with me,” he told her, letting her know she absolutely had an out. Not wanting her to think him rude though, he quickly corrected himself. “I mean, I have ten dollars here and the cafeteria isn’t really expensive so I can buy you whatever you want but… trust me, this doesn’t have to be a date or anything. Just maybe an apology for my crazy family.”

Ella lifted a hand to her mouth, disguising the ghosts of a smile that threatened to grace her lips as she watched the chaos that unfolded around her. The anxiety that had filled her upon being accosted by the family had still, by no means, dissipated, but she had since managed to find the humour in the situation. She giggled as a young girl clung to Kris' ankle, before he eventually prised her from his limbs and sent her on her way. It was a strangely sweet gesture, really. Ella could recall countless instances in which she'd carried out a similar action on her own, poor father as a young girl – before her mother's passing, she could remember clambering up her father's form, climbing him as though he were a jungle gym, placed there entirely for her own entertainment. Children were careless and naïve, and they often did just as they pleased, without so much as a second thought, but she knew first hand that it came from a place of love. Even the croons and desperation that seeped from his families words as they egged him on now, though it unsettled her just a little, she was certain there was no real malice behind their intent.

She had just been ready to protest, to insist that Kris needn't take a single thing from her, when she felt the weight shift in his arms as he curled a hand around the basket handle, pulling it into his own, tighter grip. The relief she felt was instantaneous, though she didn't like to let on as such. Instead, she smiled meekly at the boy, and blushed by way of thank you. She knew that he was eager to get away, and she allowed him the moment of chivalry – which didn't go undetected, if the cries from behind them were anything to go by – and followed him along to the next aisle, listening intently as he spoke to her.

“My... my family? Oh, no, they're...” she trailed off, not entirely sure how to answer his question.

What could she possibly say? Her mother and father were the most wonderful people she'd ever known. She couldn't ever muster so much as a bad thought about either of the two of them. They had loved her, and she would always love them. There truly was no more that could be said on the subject. Her step family, however? They were cruel and unthinking, making nasty jibes at any given moment, her step mother even going so far as to push and shove Ella, to slap her should she feel such an urge to. Should Kris catch a glimpse of the faded bruise just beneath her jaw, he'd see the result of her step mother blundering in just last week while Ella had been scrubbing the floors; she'd been entirely unsatisfied with the quality of her work, and had pushed Ella's face down against the ground, her jaw colliding with the marble. She pushed the thought away, however, and instead focused on his family.

“I think you'd be surprised by just how normal your family are,” she informed him, fighting to keep her tone light and sweet. There was no use inflicting her own problems on anybody else. Besides, she really could be worse off.

The two walked, finally reaching the end of the aisle, and coming to halt the second they reached the next one. She knew it would be easy enough for his family to shuffle further along and watch them from the end of this aisle, but she still allowed herself to mimic his own actions, breathing out a sigh of relief. Turning to face Kris, she found herself blushing at his words, with no real idea how to answer him. Did he want her to leave? She couldn't blame him, certainly not when she'd been the cause of so much of his embarrassment. It wasn't as though she were looking to go on a date – she'd only been running errands, and if she wasn't back soon her step mother surely wouldn't let it go unnoticed – but she felt an awkward tension fill the air as she averted her gaze, staring down at her feet instead.

“I... You don't have to buy me anything, no–” she shook her head, before looking up at him. It was fast, fleeting, merely a way to gauge his reaction, before she stared back down at the ground, nervously tugging on the end of her tatty sweater. “If anything, it's me that should apologise. If I hadn't caused such a commotion...”

She trailed off once again, shaking her head stupidly even at her own words. After a long pause, and a deep breath, she lifted her head to offer Kris a smile. It was sincere, and she pushed away any niggling, uncertain thoughts and paranoia that tried to fight through her exterior. It was a silly notion for her to have even gotten herself worked up about, and she knew fine well that she wasn't actually upset by Kris' own mumblings – they were both merely forced into a bizarre situation, one that had set them both on edge, with neither of the pair of them having any notion how to navigate it.

“Perhaps you could buy me coffee, and I could buy you a muffin, and we'll call it even?” she offered. Then, for extra measure, she added; “Though, I must admit, your 'crazy' family are quite endearing in their own way. They seem to love you very much.” 

[havecourageandbekxnd]

chxrmingkit :

Kit’s eyes cut to the blonde girl in time to see her waving shyly at his friends. They seemed to take that in their stride and Kit smiled along with them, all three of them having been sufficiently charmed by the girl with the Hello Kitty backpack. He liked to think that meant she was a good person as Kit liked to see the best in people, but that naivety meant he stumbled across a few bad apples in his time. Richard wasn’t much better as any pretty girl was a good character in his eyes, but Duke was well versed in sussing out the kind of people they should and shouldn’t be friends with. His smile, directed at the girl by Kit’s side, meant that she had earned the Duke Bishop stamp of approval, and Kit was glad for it.

It did mean that Kit’s evasion regarding his surname was rendered a little unnecessary but, at the same time, he couldn’t be too careful. A lot of girls had seemed sweet up until he realised they were only in it for his money. Their honeyed words turned sour when they realised he wasn’t interested in him like that, although arguments could be made that they weren’t into him either – just his bank account.

So while he was sure the quiet blonde next to him was of the same calibre Katherine and Wendy had been picked from, he’d still like to just talk to her as Kit and not as the heir to the Kingsley fortune. Luckily, she seemed just as willing to talk to him and, who knows? Maybe she could end up being a socialite herself, although Kit would have certainly remembered seeing her at a gala. He didn’t want to think about what John would say in her presence though, and hurriedly scratched that thought out of his mind.

“Too much fun? I don’t think that sounds like me,” he grinned. “I do read Shakespears for fun, you know.”

He lifted his book up to show her the cover, as if for proof. Shaking his head, he let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, I think my friend, John, has ‘too much fun’ for the both of us.”

He didn’t clarify that he was talking about John Smith, just in case. His paranoia was commending him whereas common sense pointed out that his best friend possessed one of the most common names in the history of both first and second names, and it would be almost impossible for the girl to zero in on which John Smith he was talking about, even if he had highlighted the fact that his John was a renowned party animal. Feeling himself break out into a sweat, he wondered if he should throw the whole charade away. He wasn’t good at lying after all and it felt immoral to do so in front of such a nice girl.

“My father? Oh, he works as a… well, as a tradesman of sorts!” he blurted out. So much for the not lying. It wasn’t strictly a fib though as his father was known for making trades, they just happened to consist of six-figure sums of money in return for his business. The Kingsleys had their name plastered all over the world, on hotels and airlines and pharmaceutical products. Trading was just a small part of that.

“And I’m going to follow his footsteps one day,” he heard himself say then wondered if his new companion would be terribly alarmed if he began punching himself in the face. Inhaling deeply, he plastered a smile onto his face. “But really, I’m just an apprentice of sorts right now.”

He drummed his pencil off the edge of his book then hurried to change the subject.

“But um… what – what about you? What do you plan on doing in the future?” he asked.

Ella's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the boy's – Kit's – comment regarding reading Shakespeare for fun, and she found herself all the more endeared to him. Cocking her head to the side, she eyed him curiously, a sweet smile gracing her features all the while. Since her high school days, she very rarely found herself in the company of boys who weren't within her own inner circle. It had been a long time since she'd heard from Topher, and it was only up until recently that she'd been able to work out the time to actually see Jackson and Gus. With that in mind, shed spent so much time holed up in her attic-turned-bedroom, reading stories of fairytales and romance, and hearing the ghastly, rotten things that her Step Mother had to say about the men that graced the town surrounding them, that she'd all but forgotten what it was like to be in the company of someone so... kind.

In fact, he seemed to fit into the very image that she'd grown so attached to, as though pulled from the pages of her book. It was a foolish thought, really, but she couldn't help but cling to it. His warm smile was so welcoming, as though he hadn't a care in the world what anyone else thought of the two, as though he was genuinely taken by her and enjoyed her company – even in those mere minutes. He hadn't said an awful, hurtful thing about her, and while she supposed that there was a lot to be said about the standards with which she held him to – a product of the God awful way her step family treated her – she still found herself quite giddy to be sat beside the boy. Of course, the way he'd stood to her defence, however juvenile those other boys had been, mingled with an eager interest in reading and the artistry of Shakespeare, Ella found herself smiling – no, beaming – widely at him in return for his words.

“Actually, I think that reading Shakespeare for fun sounds like exactly what we all need,” she retorted, her tone sincere. “In fact, I think that this friend of yours could learn a trick or two from you.”

She laughed, though she still remained quiet, all hush-hush as though it were merely a secret between the two of them. She didn't want to draw any additional attention to herself, though it still didn't go amiss to her that Kit's friends continued to keep an eye on the two of them. How very odd?

Ella listened keenly as he explained to her about his father, telling her of how he'd wish to follow in his footsteps. The thought made her smile. She had no idea what sort of trades he and his father dealt in, but she could already muster up a visual of the boy, working in the city, his charm and cool exterior guiding him through his work life. He seemed a fine fit for the job if the last few minutes were anything to go by. She thought, then, of her own father, and how Kit's own father must be of a similar calibre to her own. It was a rare find, she believed, but if the pride in his tone and the way he spoke of him was anything to go by, then she thought he must be a brilliant man – and well respected too, with the way that the Miss Grundle addressed his call to her office with such indifference. It must be quite the regular incident.

“An apprentice?” she asked delightedly. She wanted to hear all that he had to tell. It was so rare that she got to speak to anybody outside of her own circle, always keeping her head down in class, never drawing attention to herself. It was almost as though she'd somehow met the most interesting boy, with such intriguing things to tell. “Do you enjoy it? And, your father... does he treat you well?”

She supposed it was an odd question to ask, but the words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, and a soft blush rose to her cheeks the second that they did. She shook her head, dismissing her own remark, and instead listened intently to his own question. It caught her off guard, and she suddenly found that she wasn't entirely sure just how to answer it. What exactly did she want from her future? To get away from that ghastly house filled with broken, shattered memories? No. It wasn't ghastly, and it would always be her home. Truth be told, she wanted to rid it of the demons and the ghosts that haunted it each day, to send her Step Mother packing, but such a thought merely sent a wave of guilt crashing through her, and she shook her head dumbly at Kit.

“I... I have yet to decide,” she admitted, ducking her head, shame filling her as her cheeks burned.

She didn't want him to think her lazy, or without ambition. She didn't have a trade like his own, nor a parent to guide her any longer, but she certainly had dreams of her own. She knew that none of them were particularly achievable – her step family had always told her as such – but they were merely dreams, so what was the harm in voicing them?

“I'd like to write. Or to paint, to colour the world in pretty colours, and show people just how it is that I see it...” she told him, the corners of her lips lifting as she stared into her lap. It sounded utterly ridiculous as she said it aloud, the words of a naïve child, and yet she didn't stop there. “Or, perhaps, I'd like to open a bakery. Or start my own fashion line. To create in whatever wild and impossible way that I can.”

She paused, lifting her head and gazing to the side at Kit, a dreamy look in her eyes. Then, she sighed, the light in her eyes going out, her shoulders drooping into a small, resigned shrug.

“Impossible dreams, or so I'm lead to believe,” she muttered, mostly to herself. 

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@peytonsays: @ellatremaine i will tell u when its safe now shut it down

@ellatremaine: @peytonsays I don't understand?

@ellatremaine: @peytonsays Oh... Isabella just sent me a rather... lewd? text... ha! How funny! :)

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@niamhwhite: @ellatremaine Oh, dude. Welcome but also... turn around. Save yourself.

@ellatremaine: @niamhwhite Thank you! That's so kind. But, what do you mean?

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@zukzukjackson: @ellatremaine Changed my mind. Please delete. There are things on here you don’t need to see.

@zukzukjackson: @ellatremaine What's going on? Is everything alright?

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@peytonsays: @ellatremaine DELETE IT DELETE IT NOW

@ellatremaine: @peytonsays Oh! Don't you want me here? I can go! Sorry, P!

[havecourageandbekxnd]

@ellatremaine: Jackson just helped me set up my first ever twitter account! Yay :)

[cherrygrcvegossip]

Ella’s friends are all sad, but Sherrie is downright pitiful.

(via cherrygrcvegossip)

My friends are not sad, nor are they pitiful. Sherrie is wonderful. She’s kind, she’s strong, and she makes me smile even when it feels impossible. I love her to pieces, and she’s braver than anybody that has anything unkind to say about her. Please don’t. 

[havecourageandbekxnd]

TEXT: JACKSON, SHERRIE, GUS, PEYTON

Ella: I didn't want to overwhelm anybody, but I thought it necessary to remind you all that I love you very much.

[cherrygrcvegossip]

Doesn’t anyone find it weird that the Tremaine girl went from being super popular to practically disappearing off the face of the earth?

(via cherrygrcvegossip)

I trust that your interest in my life only proves that you happen to care, so I’ll thank you for concern and kindly ask that we be a little nicer to one another, please. 

[harrysthirdalbum]

[havecourageandbekxnd]

jacksoncheckers :

If Jackson moaned, he knew he’d be done for. It was hard to keep quiet though when Kevin’s teeth were nipping at his neck, sucking a bruise that he’d blame on some nobody at a gay club if anyone asked. He sank his own teeth deep into his bottom lip, knowing he’d be sure to draw blood if he bit any further. His hands gripped the other boy’s football jersey and he muffled a soft groan against Kevin’s cheek, lips brushing stubble before Kevin’s lips moved away from his neck and onto Jackson’s own. His tongue slid against the football player’s and he breathed heavily and hotly, arching up against the number ‘15′ emblazoned across Kevin’s chest in solid block numbers, solidifying him as part of a team that knew nothing about the locker room trysts between one of their star players and the male cheerleader he made fun of.

The clatter of the door against its hinges signaled that the last player had left, leaving Jackson to whine a keening moan into Kevin’s mouth. The other boy’s fingers dug roughly into his hips and a smile played on Jackson’s lips as he let his head fall back against the wall of their cubicle.

“And you’re sure you’re straight?” he teased the other boy. He supposed he deserved the glare he got and softened his words with a brief peck. But Kevin didn’t do soft, sentimental pecks. Just rough sex and hickeys while still claiming he ‘didn’t like dudes’. Jackson knew better than to argue so he kept quiet and got his own whenever Kevin dragged him off somewhere secret to unbuckle his belt. It wasn’t fulfilling like the sort of dreamy relationships Ella used to wax lyrical about, but Jackson didn’t exactly have a long line of guys queuing up to pursue something like that with him.

“I’m leaving,” Kevin announced, pulling back and running the pad of his thumb against the love bite on Jackson’s neck. There was a small twinge of pain, but nothing Jackson didn’t enjoy. Maybe he really was depraved. When Kevin turned, he quickly darted out a hand to slap the guy’s ass, a smug smile stretching across his face when Kevin flinched.

“Good game.” Jackson accompanied his words with a wink. There was a strange fluttering in his chest when he saw Kevin’s lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile, before it was replaced with a scowl. He pushed the weird feeling in his chest away. He wasn’t going to go down that road.

Watching as Kevin grabbed his stuff and pushed his way out of the locker room, Jackson lingered for a little bit longer. Apparently, it would look two suspect if two guys left a locker room together - a heterosexual path of logic that Jackson couldn’t begun to understand - so he made do with changing out of his cheer top and into a tight-fitting V-neck, pulling the collar of it down slightly so he could inspect the purpling bruise blooming on his neck in the mirror. He sort of hated that he liked it so much and uncurled his fingers from his shirt so the elastic could ping the material back into place.

He grabbed his duffle bag from the bench after stuffing his sweaty uniform into it and slung it over his shoulder, fishing his phone out of his pocket so he could check Pinterest for new recipes as he walked out the building. He was busy screenshotting the ingredients for banana nut muffins when someone crashed into him from the side. He stumbled in surprise, executing a quick one-two step before veering off to the left with his hands raised in surrender, but he wasn’t the one worse off in the collision. The girl that had bumped into him was now crouched on the ground, and if Jackson didn’t already recognise the blonde hair, then the way she was mumbling apologies was all too familiar to him.

“Hello, Elly!” he grinned when she spotted him. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder before noticing her attire and raising an eyebrow.

“What are you wearing?”  he asked in surprise. “I mean, I have that exact same outfit in my bag. Minus the skirt, ‘cause Violet says I don’t have the legs for it, but I know for a fact I didn’t see you out there at practise. So, what’s going on? Are you joining the ranks or do you just like the outfit? I don’t blame you, you look hot.”

He smiled warmly and slung an arm around his best friend’s shoulders. “That was some spill, by the way,” he pointed out. “You okay?”

The clear juxtaposition between Ella's reaction to the collision and sight of her best friend, and Jackson's reaction to their predicament, was really something else. Where Ella had initially felt humiliated, scrambling to cover herself in whatever way that she could, and hide herself from plain view, Jackson seemed entirely undeterred at the sight of her. She barely even registered the sweet, endearing greeting of hello, Elly (the cute little nickname that only Jackson was allowed to refer to her as, always making her blush and giggle whenever she heard it) as she blinked in surprise.

It didn't take long for him to call to attention what she was wearing, much to her distress, and she instantly tugged her top down further, hoping that she'd be able to at least safe herself some of the embarrassment. She wasn't like all of the other cheerleaders; they were beautiful and flawless, with gorgeous frames and confident smiles. They could pull off anything from what she was wearing now, to a trash bag, and still look utterly gorgeous. Ella wasn't the kind of person that could effortlessly show herself off in such an unapologetic outfit, and she felt all the more embarrassed for ever having thought she could pull it off.

“I do not look hot!” Ella gasped, her eyes wide. She shouldn't have been surprised at such a notion coming from Jackson; he'd always been much more confident and comfortable in ways that Ella had never been able to mimic.

Sneaking a glance over her shoulder, once more trying to ensure that nobody was around to see them, she bounded forward and, hopping up onto her tiptoes, she slid her palm over her best friend's eyes, obscuring his vision entirely. Keeping her hand steadily in place, she breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded quite contentedly to herself. “Right. Much better. You can't seem like this!”

She frowned, then, as the seconds passed, her arm aching with the effort of holding it in place; Jackson was significantly taller than her, and her severe lack of balance meant that she was already wobbling on the spot, and putting herself at risk of toppling to the ground for a second time. Breathing out a huff that one might say was a little petulant for someone as soft and shy as Ella Tremaine, she retrieved her hand and pulled away, shouldering her backpack and wrapping her arms around her torso once more.

She didn't shy away from Jackson's touch, allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulder, and instead she fell carefully into his side, resting her head comfortably against his shoulder and letting him take the lead. This was how it should always have been: Jackson and Ella side by side. It felt right, and she always felt safest knowing Jackson was close by. Even her newfound humiliation was stifled ever so slightly by her indifference toward what Jackson might think. He'd never judged her before, so she couldn't imagine him starting now.

With a sigh, she slowly started to address his various questions. “I'm fine, yes. Clumsy, an idiot, but fine.”

A short laugh fell from her lips as she glanced up at him. It was in Ella's nature to be self deprecating, a habit that she'd never managed to locate the off-switch for. Jackson had always scolded her for it, gently as he went about it, and always had some sweet words to lift her up and make her feel good about herself. She wasn't entirely sure she deserved it, but he was the closest thing she had to family now, and she internally vowed never to take that for granted.

“I'm not joining the pixies, no,” she shook her head. Crinkling her nose up in discomfort, she gave a small shrug as she thought back to the past hour, and how pathetic and weak she'd been. Kim must have thought she was a complete joke for not showing her face! “One of the girls – Kim, red-haired, very pretty? – she invited me along. I... I said I'd give it a go, but. Well, I spent the last hour hiding in a cubicle like the complete coward that I am.”

She sighed, feeling resigned. If there was anybody she could confess her own doubts to, it was always going to be Jackson. With Peyton still keeping something of a distance, Sherrie with her own bigger concerns, and Gus assuring that he'd stay at her side at any given moment, Ella understood that she needed to try harder, and to be there for Jackson where she'd failed to over the years. It was with that realisation that it dawned on her how dismissive she'd been of his words only moments before. Over the past 6 years she'd been so wrapped up in her own problems, that there was still so much of Jackson's life that had gone amiss to her.

Giving him a gentle nudge in the ribs, she wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked and mused, “What about you? What are you doing here? Did you say... are you a cheerleader?”