" ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘꜱ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ "
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IN WHICH caleb moore struggles to discern hatred from love while harbouring intense feelings for mike wheeler and has no idea which is which when the time comes to face h...
THE MANY DILEMMAS OF NICO BLANCHARDAND THE MANY REUNIONS OF JACOB IVES
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in which jacob ives decides to bring a friend in need to the local queer expert, lucas sinclair and max mayfield both grow sick of being avoided, and many lunchtime confessions are made
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growing pains | pre-the hellfire club
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〖 the mirror's looking at me funny, flutter feeling in my tummy, how do i become me? 〗
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tw : gender/body dysphoria, mention of transphobia, brief ptsd from sa
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WITHIN HAWKINS High School, the equipment shed at the far end of the Phys Ed pitch had long since been regarded as the usual hot spot for stoners and addicts alike.
Jacob knew all about this location from Mack, but he had been careful about going there due to the possibility of running into her.
However, Mack appeared to be absent from school today, and so Jacob was spending his lunch hour surrounding himself with an unlikely group of characters - most were your usual run-of-the-mill potheads or the few people that lived in the den with Mack that were still in school, but then you also had some of Hawkins' best and brightest coming to the known dealers of the school to let off some steam in preparation for finals week.
Jacob got along with everyone he introduced himself to quite fast.
Mofi was his current favourite out of the lot of them. He was a bit of an airhead, truth be told, but in a Jonathan's friend Argyle kind of way - the best kind of way.
His hair was buzzed to the scalp unevenly, which somehow suited him better than it would have if it was shaved properly, and he was covered in piercings (including a freaky one Jacob loved for some reason, a long silver chain clipped onto one of the several piercings on his left ear that linked to the piercing on the corner of his bottom lip) and spikey jewellery like a punk from the 70s, but also had a shitty and faded peace symbol tattooed on his bicep, which was displayed by the single torn sleeve of his black denim jacket.
He got a laugh out of trying to teach Jacob how to pronounce his actual name, a 7-syllable long Yoruba title the poor boy had no chance of ever mastering the pronunciation of sober - nevermind when a joint had already been passed around the rather large group, leaving his mouth to slip out of his control every now and then.
