#am i nothing to you? all those times we hung out we ate shitty food and watched bad films together

[thelongquiets]

im gonna fuckingggg. kms.

[purplesurveys]

1159

survey by -egocentricity-

Describe the last time you...

Went swimming: It was in Nasugbu with Angela, Sofie, and Gab nearly a couple of years ago. We wanted to go to a nearby beach before the semester started, so we planned the trip at the last minute and literally just right after we enrolled for our classes.

Went on a date: It was at BGC at this nice, romantic French restaurant. Then as we headed back to the car we spotted a jazz bar that had a live band performing, so we took a detour there to have drinks and nachos.

Were hurt by someone you love: My mom says a lot of hurtful things all the time I’ve stopped keeping track of them and letting them affect me too much, but I’m sure she’s done it recently.

Did something nice for yourself: I got myself a night lamp to improve the ambience in my room and make it feel even more homey. The lamp I had before it was just something I borrowed from my parents and it had white light, so it didn’t feel the most calming. The one I have right now emits this soft yellow shade that makes me feel infinitely more relaxed.

Did something nice for someone else: I ordered KFC at like 1 AM last Wednesday because I was feeling hungry and there was nothing at home that could meet my cravings, and aside from getting orders for my parents I also got a Zinger for my delivery driver as a way to thank him and lift his spirits for working that late into the night.

Were injured: I always sport some sort of scratch or gash somewhere on my body these days from playing with Cooper. This morning I got a new wound on one of my knuckles since he was pulling on his leash way too hard when I was walking him.

Went to the hospital: I had to take blood and urine tests last May to figure out what was wrong with me since I had been sick for a week by that point. That was also during the peak of the pandemic, so there was a lot of anxiety about me catching Covid. It turned out to be a UTI, and even though that technically sucks the whole family was relieved it wasn’t Covid.

Understood something that previously confused you: I had my dad explain to me how buying and bidding for houses works. Hahaha I am sooooo not equipped to be a fully-functioning adult.

Faked sick to get out of going to class: I don’t think I ever did this. If I had wanted to skip class, I just skipped it.

Hung out with your friends: I went to Perfy’s with 7 friends shortly before it shut down for good as a result of the pandemic. We had some beer and bar chow, and to be completely frank it felt quite nice to have that one night where things felt normal again, as ignorant as it was. We vaped until we were dizzy and some of them smoked too much that the smell ended up clinging to me and my clothes, but luckily I got home when my whole family was already in their rooms so no one was able to smell me.

Met someone new: There’s this girl who recently got onboarded to one of our client brands and we started working with her about a week or two ago. She’s honestly been a bit over the place, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because she’s fairly new at a particularly hectic time in her workplace. My first impression of her was that she gave such a strong UP vibe so I looked her up on Facebook, and it turns out we went to the same college and the same high school.

Did something that you were afraid to do: A couple of months ago I had a one-on-one video call organized by the CEO of my employer so that she could get to know me better. She was super nice and listened attentively to my answers to all her questions, but it was easy to tell she wanted to see what I could bring to the table and how well I could mesh with the team especially since I’ve never met her and everyone else in person, so I made sure my social game was maxed out for those 15 minutes haha.

Did something you promised you would never do: I vaped literally half an hour ago. I never expected to form a habit out of it especially after being vehemently against any form of smoking for most of my life. Not particularly proud of it but then again I’m here for a good time and not a long time lmao.

Regretted something: Lazada had this huge app-wide sale last week and their Hydro Flasks were like ₱600 cheaper, but I didn’t buy it because I was feeling stingy that day haha. Now the products are back to their normal price and they’ll probably never get to be that cheap again :( There’s another sale happening tomorrow but the discounts aren’t as big, but I’ll probably place an order this time.

Went shopping: I went to H&M last January to get Andi a late Christmas present. I asked Leigh what they would appreciate as a gift, and she told me they’d wanted to start experimenting with feminine clothes so I got them a nice black skirt and this really elegant dress (that I honestly wanted for myself). I heard they cried once they opened the paper bag, and making people cry with the gifts you get them will always be one of the best feelings ever haha.

Asked someone out/were asked out: Idk, it was 5 years ago and nothing I want to remember anymore.

Broke up with someone: I’ve never broken up with someone.

Had someone break up with you: It was terrible and the stuff of all my nightmares combined, and it happened in the middle of an already-shitty month to boot so I had little hope for myself to come out of it alive. I had everything planned and ironed out and all that was left was for me to leave. 

It’s been 7 months and I’ve never felt emotionally and mentally better and healthier.

Were heartbroken: I follow this animal rescue NGO on Facebook and they regularly post about dogs who’ve lived through awful situations and need urgent care and forever homes to live in. Fortunately the page has a wide reach and regularly gets support, and I try to donate to their bank account as often as I can.

You were angry with someone: Haven’t directed my anger towards anyone in a while.

You felt "in love" with someone: It was during the time I was still reeling over the breakup and was caught in an endless loop of still being in love with them and forcing myself to finally detach.

You wanted something unrealistic: I was at the rooftop this morning and I could feel the temperature getting warmer every hour, and when I finally couldn’t tolerate the heat and was forced to go back indoors I felt super annoyed because all I want is to live somewhere with a chilly climate all-year round hahaha UGH

You made someone angry: It was when I spilled a tiny drop of soup onto the dining table and my mom had a complete meltdown about it. After 89457843957 years of her getting mad at First World Problems I wasn’t intimidated by her anymore, but it still irked me at how something so little can piss her off so I just decided not to speak a word for the rest of the night.

You made someone's day: I hope I made my delivery driver’s night when I got him his burger as a surprise. I hold so much respect and appreciation for them considering they’ve been working very hard to get people’s goods to their doorsteps in the midst of a global pandemic.

Tried something new: When I bought my lamp it was the first time I got something to decorate my room. I usually spend all my money on food, so that was a nice change to try out.

Tried your best: I always try my best at work and to make each day more improved than the last.

Didn't try at all: A couple of nights ago I asked my dad to light up my scented candle and he challenged me to try lighting up a matchstick by myself for once. I was all primed and ready to go, but backed out at the last second :(( I told him there was a big chance I could freak out, drop the lit matchstick. and set something in the dining room (where we were) on fire, and that’s when he gave up and just lit it up himself hahaha

Got nothing for your efforts: I’d gladly refer you to my big waste of a 6-year relationship.

Had a serious talk with someone: I always have deep conversations with Andi and they’ve been about various topics over the last few months.

Told someone how you really feel: It was when Bea scheduled a quick one-on-one catch-up call with me to check up on how I was doing with work and if I was doing okay with the everyday craziness of it all. But I didn’t say anything grave; I just told her I honestly like the work we do and that it’s nice that it keeps me excited everyday, so there’s little to complain about.

Hid what you felt from someone: One of my co-workers, Denise, is honestly a little challenging to work with. I always have to pick up after her and remind her of stuff we need to do together, and even Bea has let a few comments slide between us about how difficult she can be. But considering I’m a lot newer than her and we’ve never met each other I’ve stayed quiet for now.

Took something that didn't belong to you: I got the matchbox from my parents’ room to ask one of them to light up the aforementioned scented candle I have.

Borrowed something from someone: I borrowed one of my sister’s cords the other evening to charge my vape pen.

Lost a game: This was when my orgmates and I played a couple Jeopardy games over Zoom about a month ago and I lost to Robin.

Won a game: Not sure, I don’t really play a lot of games.

Told someone you love him/her: Jo, after she shared that she tested positive for Covid.

Went on vacation: It’s been a year and a half and the world has changed a lot since then, but my family and I went to Tagaytay and Cavite for a quick weekend getaway; it was Tagaytay on Saturday then we drove to another hotel in Cavite the next day. We played Heads Up, ate Jelly Belly jellybeans, had a lot of nice food, took some walks, but then I also had to work on a Powerpoint in between because I had a presentation that was due that Monday lol.

Went on a roadtrip: Last January we drove to Tagaytay (again) for my dad’s 50th birthday. Before heading to our accommodation we had brunch at La Creperie where we happened to be seated beside Larry Gadon – bleck – and his wife. Then we headed to the condo unit where we stayed the night at, ordered a samgyupsal set, and I watched GMM’s Let’s Talk About That into the night until I fell asleep.

Flew on a plane: That would be over two years ago and it was during our vacation to Bicol. That also marks the last time I ever spoke a word to my brother, because on our way home my family got into a heated argument and he ended up slapping me in the face. I don’t tolerate physical acts of violence, and especially not from someone younger than me, so I was more than glad to cut ties with him moving forward.

Were annoyed with a family member: My mom is politically incorrect 24/7, and it grinds my gears 24/7.

Took something too far: Idk, maybe cutting off ties with Gab. A part of me wanted to reconnect at some point, once I’ve healed; but I’ve reached a point in my life where that doesn’t seem so necessary anymore. Life just works funnily sometimes, I guess. I haven’t completely cut her off; we’re still mutuals on Twitter (though she also never uses it so it barely counts), and also still Facebook friends (though I’ve unfollowed her and I’ve also blacklisted her from seeing my posts – thank god for that feature), so now it’s really just a matter of pressing some buttons and finally disconnecting for good.

Gave up too soon: I wanted to learn riding a bike during the early days of the pandemic last year, but I gave up after like two days of being unsuccessful.

Listened to a band you had not heard before: I started exploring some of BTS’ music earlier this week after weeks of just knowing Dynamite.

Judged someone: Some of the bloggers that I regularly correspond with for work, and who’ve recently added me on Facebook, have opinions I don’t necessarily agree with.

Asked a "stupid question": I ask a lot of newbie questions at work that maybe some people would consider dumb, but I’d rather get answers to do my work correctly than take guesses and end up doing the wrong thing.

Got "a stupid answer": Not sure.

Took a picture of something/someone: I recently took a photo of my work desk setup so I could show off my new pretty lamp, hahaha.

Told a lie: I told my mom my Hydro Flask is still with Angela and that I should be getting it soon, but I really lost it a few years ago and would have to buy a new one.

Told the truth: Idk I tell the truth all the time.

[thedankfaerie]

i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.

i need someone to hear what i feel

or at least, a free space to say what i feel 

im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.

last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 

 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 

i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.

4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.

i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.

i cried.

i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 

a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 

but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 

a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 

after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.

and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 

with that being said, i gained the weight back.

not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.

cue covid.

i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 

but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.

im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.

i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’

because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.

i hate myself for getting back to this point. 

i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.

today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 

im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.

but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 

someone please help me. 

[ittakesrain]

a shitshow of a brain-dump

Even though I keep thinking this episode is over, it never is. Or, it hasn’t been yet. Eventually, it will be. Hopefully sometime fucking soon. But today is not that day, my friends.

I went to bed at 4:30pm last night. Like, the afternoon. Slept til 7 this morning, too, which I guess isn’t a bad thing. It certainly beats being conscious. But maybe that’s a bad way to look at it haha, like, I shouldn’t want to be unconscious. It’s just like…how else am I supposed to deal while just waiting this fuckin’ thing out?

I was asking myself what’s better. Crying for hours, tears saturated with anguish and discomfort and uncertainty and fear? Or all-consuming emptiness, nothing left to think or feel or experience, al emotion lost in the void? They both suck. But it’s been changing up nightly, so there’s at least some variety in the fucking depression.

I had therapy this morning, which always helps, and it did help, and I’m so relieved because I’m still kinda riding that high even though I needed my Klonopin (that I’ve been taking daily, because why suffer, I can’t take the suffering).

Anyway. I went in all mopey and folded into myself as usual but she eventually got me talking (damn, how does she do that?) and I was able to breathe for 45 minutes and have that time as a break from wanting to cease existing just to escape the torment. I could go on forever about the miracles that happen there, while we sit next to each other on the floor by the window, but more on that later.

I hung out with a friend after, a fellow mental health warrior, and it was a great distraction, and she totally understood that I needed to bolt outta there once I felt the oncoming, out-of-nowhere panic attack ready to pounce.

Came home. Ate fucking food (berries and cottage cheese, weird but healthy, I guess?). I actually ate something with my therapist today too, she gave me some of those breakfast biscuit things, and I ate them, go me.

I took all my fucking vitamins and supplements. Multi bc I’m not getting enough shit I need, biotin because since I’m not getting the shit I need my hair is falling out. Magnesium because it’s supposed to help with anxiety. PassionFlower extract because that is alsooo supposed to help with anxiety and I am desperate.

I also feel the need to say that I’m doing everything right. I’m taking the meds and stopping to inhale and exhale like a normal human, I’m tryinggggg to stay positive. I’m disheartened (and fucking furious) that this still happened.

Now for the brain-dump part that probably isn’t going to make any sense because it’s literally just random nonsense I typed up throughout the day.

I was thinking about what I want right now (an end to the torture, a plan of attack to kick back at this bullshit, some internal motivation that doesn’t dissipate abruptly and painfully) and about what I need (aside from a damn miracle). Like, how do I ask for help from people? What can I tell them I need? Basically I just need patience. Lots of love and affection (all the hugs and cuddles, please). I need work to be understanding about this. Which they are. It’s just ugh I’m still embarrassed.

Okay, now a word on understanding. I hate when people tell me they understand because unless they have bipolar, they most certainly do not and don’t insult me by saying that you do. I’m not gonna invalidate the pain other people feel, that’d be a shitty thing to do. But like, it’s insulting and upsetting. If I’m trying to explain how in my dark moments I literally CANNOT see clearly, I CANNOT fathom a time when I wasn’t in pain or a time when I won’t be in pain, I CANNOT function…and you tell me you’ve been there? Well then why can’t I just “be positive” and move on, like you apparently were able to do. I don’t wanna rant about this too much, but like. It’s on my mind.

I also had this random thought: I take one step forward, two steps back, two steps forward, one step back. I’m staying in the same place (cue bitter frustration seeping out of my brain). But I’m kinda dancing with it. Dancing in place. Like, what I mean by that is I’m trying. I’m doing new things and trying my best (when I am capable of it) and just. I dunno, is that a good perspective?

Lastly, I’m trying to find a way to love myself even with my malfunctioning, glitch-ridden brain. Even with my blossoming bouquet of mental illnesses. What I really mean by that is I’m trying to be proud of myself in spite of feeling like a total failure. I mean, yeah, surviving on a daily basis is a HUGE accomplishment for someone who’s got a mental illness. If you’re in that category of people, congrats and I’m so proud of you. But like gahhh I wanna be proud of myself and it seems to be a struggle for me. I’m gonna try being patient. I mean, nothing says I can’t get back up on the horse and try again. Actually, I’m gonna do that. Because I really have no choice, but because that’s how I like to think I am. Resilient, blah blah, we know. Bipolars are resilient. But, like. Yeah.

Some definitions:

Fail- to be unsuccessful in achieving one’s goals

Success- the accomplishment of an aim or purpose

Goal- the object of a person’s ambition or effort, the desired aim or result

Ambition- a strong desire to do or achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work

And some quotes:

“Failure is not a sin” –dunno who said it but my HS principal said this at our graduation

The only way to fail is to not try –again, dunno who said it, but we all know this basic idea, don’t we

“Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently” –apparently Henry Ford said this

Success is a journey, not a destination –I think of happiness the same way, interesting

“Ambition is believing in yourself even when no one else in the world does”

I’m just trying to convince myself that I’m worthy of the time it’s gonna take for me to get my shit to an acceptable level of “together.” The words I typed up there totally aren’t gonna make sense if anyone reads them, buuuuut maybe when I go back and read this thingggg later, it’ll jog something in my brain that helps.

Alrighty. Enough smashing this keyboard for the night.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Sea Legs

Ch. 12 - Addicted

Boku No Hero Academia / My Hero Academia Quirkless, Mermaid, Modern AU

Rating: Explicit | Excessive Fluff, Blood, Wounds, Nudity, Sex, Cursing and Vulgar Language

Genre: Romance / Humor / Angst

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (oc)

A trip to her grandmothers beachfront home was something that Koge had done every year of her life. This time, an unlikely discovery would change her life forever. Who knew explaining how to be a human could be so hard.

It was two days later that Koge noticed it. From her balcony in the dark, she could see the light of a fire down the beach. It seemed like a cold and lonely light, flickering in the dark as if it were calling for her. The urge to go to it was strong, knowing that it must have been Bakugou, still stranded on the beach with nowhere to go. But, could she really stand it? Could she really stand to be around him again after the fight they had? Just as she had commanded, he hadn’t returned to the house, somehow surviving on his own just down the shore. By now, he probably truly hated her, which was something that Koge knew she deserved.

She had acted horribly towards him and she knew it. Her overwhelming lifetime loneliness had driven her to attach herself to him, getting too close too quickly, and it had ruined what friendship they could have had. It had been wrong of her to want him to stay, to abandon everything he knew just for her, a human girl that he had barely met. It was stupid of her to have such expectations, but then again, she truly didn’t know what to expect of him. Bakugou had done nothing but surprise her at every turn, either with a story, a smile or a touch and she found herself missing him desperately.

It wasn’t just his touch that she missed. It was the conversations, the way he snorted when she was able to make him laugh too hard, how he fiddled with those necklaces while holding such a soft and far off thoughtful look on his face. Her favorite thing, oddly enough, was how his entire face just lit up the first time he put a piece of sushi into his mouth. She had never seen someone eat so many pieces of sushi in her life, but the price of the bill was worth how happy it made him.

He’s probably hungry… After eating so great here, I just left him on the beach to fend for himself. I’m such a shitty person.

With a heavy sigh, Koge pulled herself away from the balcony and back into her room, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she began to think out loud. “I should take him something… If he still can’t change, I can’t leave him stranded on the beach. Ugh!” Reaching up to rub her face, she gave her cheeks a few good slaps before marching out of her room and towards the kitchen. Enough! I can’t do this to him! If I care about him as much as I think I do, there’s no way I can let this happen.

After rummaging through the kitchen, she found some raw fish, some vegetables that he had liked and a couple of bottles of fresh water. Before she could be caught, she fled the house and jogged down to the beach, not stopping until she grew closer to the burning fire. She could see him there, sitting beside it. From the glow that was cast by the flames and the bright moonlight above, she watched him sit there, sharpening a stick with some type of knife. Where he had gotten that, she wasn’t sure, but she sure as hell felt stupid when that was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

“Where’d you get a knife?”

Bakugou only gave her a quick glance, as if he had known she were there the entire time, which wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest. “It’s not a knife. It’s a clam. If you break them just right, they can be sharp. I use them to make weapons sometimes.”

“That’s impressive.”

She didn’t even get his typical grunt in response, feeling her heart drop nearly into her stomach. Swallowing hard, she took a few steps closer, swinging the backpack she wore around to the front. “I brought you some food.”

“I already ate.”

“Oh…” Now she was just starting to feel stupid. She could feel how unwanted her presence was, much like how it had been when she first found him. “I guess this was a stupid idea.” Bakugou finally turned his glare up towards her, the way he was holding the semi pointed stick and clam-knife almost menacing. “Is this how you thought you would apologize to me? Did you think it would work?”

Feeling defeated and stupid, she put the backpack down at her feet with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know what else to do. Saying ‘sorry’ won’t matter and admitting that I was a fuckhead will just be repeating what we both know.” Bakugou relaxed his posture a bit, stabbing the stick into the ground along with the makeshift knife. “You’re right, you are a fuckhead. A big stupid fuckhead who’s just as bad at emotions and feelings as I am.” Standing, he surprised Koge as he walked over towards her, though she did her best to stand her ground.

“I… I’m confused about how I feel for you, Katsuki. How can I like you so much when I know I can’t have you?”

“Stop talking.” Bakugou cupped Koge’s cheeks with those rough hands she adored so much, joined by a mildly annoying sting of sand against her flushed skin. “And don’t move. I need to try something.”

Although she wanted to ask what he wanted, Koge found herself silenced by his presence, his gaze so intense that she dare not interrupt him. All she could do was give a very small nod in approval, and in that instant, his lips were pressed into hers softly. Without a second thought, Koge gave into him, allowing him to kiss and use her mouth as he pleased. As he took full advantage of her open mouth, she moved in closer, gently caressing his upper arms in a silent wish to hold him.

Before she got the chance, he roughly pulled away, cursing out in frustration as he peeled himself from her to walk towards the beach. A bit stunned at the sudden loss of affection, Koge took a few steps after him, though stopped when he began to rip off his clothing. “Katsuki, what was that? Where are you going?”

“I need to cool off!” Bakugou didn’t look back at her as he made his way into the water, all clothing discarded. Pouting a bit in confusion, Koge stopped at the edge of the water, crossing her arms as she watched his blonde head pop up quite a ways away.

“Cool off from what?! Katsuki, you can’t just make out with me and then bail.”

“You don’t get it, Utsuro!” Bakugou called back, though he still couldn’t look at her. “I still have… urges, alright?!”

“Urges to have sex with me… You can be turned on by me, it’s okay.” Koge let her arms fall to the side, watching as he shook his head. “No,” he started, seeming horribly frustrated. “It’s… it’s not like that! I can’t admit it, I don’t know what to do!”

Koge felt a tug at her heart as she heard a cracking in his voice, wishing that she could understand what was wrong. Standing there in silence, with the waves calmly rolling up over her bare feet, it slowly began to dawn on her what was happening. She had confused his actions for nothing but physical attraction, when in reality, they were much more than that. Perhaps, the more animalistic urges of his kind were still prominent, even when he was in this form. In his mind, he had mated with her, and that built a connection between them that only he could feel. He had unintentionally sworn himself to her, just like what would happen if he had done this with one of his own kind. Or, that was the theory she could come up with.

Not wanting to leave him alone any longer than she already had, Koge began to strip herself of her own clothes, finally gaining a confused glare from the blonde bobbing in the water. “Utsuro, what the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m coming to you if you won’t come back to shore.” Once stripped, she made her way into the water, giving a hiss when it reached her stomach. “A fuck, that’s cold!” Bakugou scoffed, keeping his distance from her. “Fuck off, Utsuro, I don’t want you around me! Go back to shore!”

“No? Something is bothering you, Katsuki, we need to talk it out. Just explain it to me.”

“You won’t understand!” He continued to move away from her, until Koge was no longer able to reach the sandbars, having to float and struggle against the incoming waves. Spitting some of the rogue ocean water from her mouth, Koge narrowed her eyes at him, still doing her best to reach him. “I would if you would just explain it to me! I care about you, Katsuki!”

A small gasp of shock escaped her lips as he suddenly vanished beneath the surface, leaving her floating about alone. But, before she could really worry, she felt his familiar grip on her arm, tugging her backwards a few feet before he resurfaced, tugging her body against his tightly. Able to stand, Bakugou supported them both, ignoring the hair that hung in his face. “Just because you care about me doesn’t mean that you will be able to understand, Utsuro.”

“But I would understand.” Koge tenderly pushed his hair back out of his face, allowing him to hold her close. “I understand that you’re not like me. That things feel differently for you, and I… I haven’t paid attention to that, and I’m sorry. I just… I never thought that I would fall for a merperson, you know… No human girl really does.” Bakugou couldn’t help but give a short chortle, giving a small shake of his head.

“Utsuro… I think the only way to explain it is like… What the pain pills could do.”

“I make you sick?!”

“No! No, well… yes.” The smirk on Bakugou’s lips made Koge flush with embarrassment, but she let him continue. “You make me sick, Utsuro. But more, it’s like I’m addicted.”

“Addicted?”

“Like you said, I can’t have too many of those pain pills because I could become addicted to them?”

Koge could only nod, the tingling heat returning to her body as he pulled her in closer, kissing her lips with a new softness that nearly sent her into tears.

“I’ve had too much of you… I’m addicted. And I can’t be without you. But that scares me. Our kind… doesn’t mate with humans. I’ve really fucked myself over.” Bakugou began to push them back towards the shore slowly. “Because I don’t want to give you up. But how can I give up everything else. I’m so fucking backwards on it all…” Koge rested her head against his shoulder when they reached shallower waters, burying her face into his neck softly.

“I’m the same way, Katsuki… I don’t want to give you up just yet, either. But how can this work? We both know that I have to go home eventually… I don’t permanently live down here. What do we do then? No matter how you look, you need to stay by the water… You can’t go with me.”

“And you can’t go with me.”

“Let’s put it aside for now. We still have time until I have to leave. For now I just… want to be with you.”

[lashton-attraction]

Why won’t you love me

Luke would’ve liked to say that he didn’t know when he realised Ashton didn’t love anymore. That it just happened along the way, because it sounded better. It sounded better to not know when he realised when his boyfriend had stopped loving him, instead of knowing the exact time he realised his feelings weren’t returned in the same way.

Now, Ashton never cheated. He wasn’t like that. Ashton was a proper man, and would probably hurt himself before he hurt Luke, and that’s probably why he stuck around much longer than he wanted to. Because he knew Luke could take the heartbreak, though it was an agony for Ashton to stay in a broken relationship. Luke wanted to hold on to Ashton, and Ashton held on to Luke – even though he wanted to let go.

Luke realised Ashton had stopped loving him on the 4th of March 02:43 AM. He had seen no warning signs; no things had led up to the point where Luke knew that Ashton didn’t love him anymore. It was stupid really, they’d talked on the phone. Ashton probably dying to get to sleep, but too nice to hang on. When Luke finally said goodbye, he had finished their call like they always did. By claiming how much he loved Ashton, and Ashton for the first time ever had not said it back. He had wished Luke a good night and hung up.

It could be an honest mistake, Michael had thought so. It was late, Ashton was probably tired. But it wasn’t. Luke knew it wasn’t. Ashton had proclaimed his love for Luke in all kinds of states, drunk, high, drowsy, hungry, angry, through tears and through laughter. Ashton had told him he’d love him at all kinds of times. Even times it wasn’t suited to tell Luke how much Ashton loved him.

If Ashton wanted you to feel his love, he’d let you know. Luke knew this.

That night Ashton didn’t want Luke to know he loved him. Because he didn’t. Not anymore.

As a proof less than a week later they were through. Completely and utterly thorough. So, through that the very day Ashton had stopped at Luke’s apartment to pick up his belongings the ones he left behind after each stay and dropping of Luke’s. A day later, Luke couldn’t find Ashton on any social media, probably blocked. And that weekend when Luke was shitfaced enough to dare call Ashton he realised Ashton had a new number.

If it wasn’t for the memories it would’ve been like they never had been. Ashton had gone every mile just to delete Luke from his life, and Luke just didn’t know why. Luke would’ve liked to ask Ashton why they broke up. Because all he’d gotten when he asked was some shitty excuse that sometimes people fall out of love. Luke had accepted it then, but only because if they continued talking he’d break out crying.

Luke wanted to ask. Luke really wanted to ask Ashton why he wouldn’t love him, but he didn’t have it in him. Luke was afraid of the answer he’d get.

But why wouldn’t Ashton love him? Was it the way Luke looked? Ashton had often joked that he liked him better with the lip ring, but Luke had taken it out because he grew out of his wannabe punk phase. (Besides it was better kissing Ashton with it gone.)

Was it the beard? Cause Luke could shave it. Was his style too lame? Luke knew he wasn’t the most well-dressed. Both Calum and Ashton dressed better than him. And Ashton often helped him to find a decent outfit, Luke just wasn’t good at those sorts of things, but he could learn! He was willing to learn for Ashton.

If that made Ashton come back, Luke would wear all kinds of clothes. Or none for that matter.

Was the sex not great? Luke doubted it. Ashton had never complained, and his previous partners had never said anything either. Luke was normally the one fucking Ashton and not the other way around, but if Ashton wanted to switch it up Luke was willing to try it out. Ashton just had to say the word. Ashton basically had Luke wrapped around his finger, and Luke just couldn’t understand why he was unlovable.

What had he done wrong? What had he done that made Ashton not love him? Why wouldn’t Ashton love him? Luke didn’t know. And why couldn’t he stop loving Ashton? Luke didn’t know the answer to that either. His phone background was still of Ashton for Christ’s sake! A twisted way of showing how devoted Luke still was. If Luke could’ve seen Ashton’s lock screen he’d bet it wasn’t the stupid background of him posing next to a Hello Kitty statue.

Because Luke still loved Ashton, and his lock screen still was Ashton. But Ashton didn’t love Luke, so his background wasn’t Luke.

Luke wondered what had made Ashton stop loving him, he should probably stop thinking about it. At least that’s what Michael said, but he just couldn’t It was a mystery to him, a riddle, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it before he had the answer. Like those stupid, hard riddles people told you that you never got the answer to. So, they just kept haunting you forever.

Had Luke taken Ashton out too much? Too little? Had he bought Ashton too little flowers? Luke could’ve bought Ashton flowers. He had on some occasions too, but maybe it was too little. Luke could’ve bought him more if only Ashton gave him the chance.

Most days Luke spent on his sofa, well evenings. The daytime he buried himself in his studies. It seemed better to think about the world’s history than to remember how his own history was starting to fade into nothingness. The evening was lonely, especially now that he had no one to keep him company. Though some couples did, Luke and Ashton had never been together all the time. They’d taken their times apart.

To breathe, to be with family, some personal space here and there. And those days Luke spent them on his sofa, just like he’d been doing the last months. Yet those days never seemed as lonely as they did now. Mostly because Luke knew he had Ashton. Now, he had no one. He had no one to love him. Ashton certainly didn’t.

Why didn’t Ashton love him? Luke really wondered.

Luke could clearly remember that Ashton had once told him that Luke would never be lonely. Even though they were apart he’d never be lonely. It was so hard to be lonely, so Ashton didn’t want Luke to feel that feeling. Ironic how Ashton had told him he wouldn’t be lonely, yet it was he who left him alone.

Why would Ashton do that? He wouldn’t have done that if he loved Luke, but he didn’t. Not anymore. He didn’t love Luke. Luke knew he was unloved, but he still wondered why. And how.

First time in months Luke saw Ashton was at a dinner party at Ashton’s. Luke didn’t know how Ashton had come to think it’d be a good idea to invite his ex, along with his two best friends. But it ended up like that anyway. Michael, Calum and he was having dinner at Ashton’s. It was asking for trouble, according to Michael. And Luke silently agreed. (He knew he’d do something stupid because he was so desperate for Ashton’s attention.)

When Ashton had opened his door he’d been met with a surprising sight. Luke had the lip ring again, and he didn’t wear any worn-out skinny jeans with a band tee along with it. He’d actually made an effort and looked good. (He always looked stylish nowadays.) His hair slightly reached below his ears, but not any longer than that. The exact length Ashton liked best on him. Face newly shaved, and in his hand, he had a flower bouquet, handing it to Ashton with a friendly smile. Which Ashton accepted gratefully.

He looked good.

He really did, but it was just a facade. On the outside, he might look like he was over the break-up, and that was what Ashton thought as well. But those who knew Luke knew that he wasn’t.

Luke didn’t look broken, but he was.

“Welcome,” Ashton said, letting Luke into his apartment, and Luke walked in taking off his shoes, and hanging up his jacket. He knew Ashton hated a mess. The apartment looked exactly the same, which surprised Luke. He’d expected it to change seeing as Ashton had changed. But no, it was the same. Ashton had changed though. Not only because he didn’t love Luke anymore, but his hair was red. It looked good, but it was different. A way of showing that things between them were different. Calum and Michael were there already, and Luke joined them, while Ashton retreated to the kitchen to do the last preparations for the dinner.

“Hey man, what’s up,” Michael said when Luke sat down at Ashton’s couch. He’d been there when Ashton had bought it and helped him carry it up three floors. It all seemed so long ago now. It was less than a year ago though.

“Not much,” Luke answered. Because nothing was up. Without Ashton, he’d fallen into a steady rhythm where he slept, ate, worked and studied. Boring, but life without Ashton was boring.

“You never return my calls anymore,” Michael continued. But Luke only scoffed, Michael was being melodramatic as usual.

“I do? We spoke like two days ago,” Luke argued.

“You have like three missed calls from me,” Michael said, showing the blond male he’d called at 2 AM.

“I never heard,” Luke said, and he wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. “And when I saw it I was late to work.” That was truth, Luke had seen it the next morning, but he was late to work so he hadn’t called Michael up. He could’ve called in his break, but he chose not to.

They ate shortly after, and the food was delicious. Not that Luke had expected anything less, Ashton was an excellent cook. Had been so when they were together, and he doubted that would change. The conversation between the four of the flowed nicely, not leaving anyone on the outside. Yet it wasn’t the same. They shared their laughs, and shared new stories – yet Luke noticed that it wasn’t like it used to be. The conversations Ashton and he used to have was different. Though the conversation was in no way forced, it seemed so in compression with what they used to have.

When Luke excused himself to the toilet Michael spoke up.

“Did you know Luke always keeps his face freshly shaved because you disliked his beard? Or that he keeps his hair that way because you said it suited him. Did you notice he got his lip ring back? Yeah, he did that for you. And he keeps dressing like he’s going to a party, only because you used to tell him how he owned no personal style. Maybe you noticed the-..” Michael didn’t get the chance to continue.

“Stop,” Ashton said, his voice was bitter. Almost like it hurt him to hear that Luke still did all this for him. He did all this just to be loved, because he couldn’t understand why Ashton didn’t love him anymore.

“Luke won’t admit this, but his lock screen is still the picture of you, because it reminds him of seeing your face. He told me when he was drunk,” Calum filled in.

“I said stop,” Ashton repeated. And the both could clearly see, it did hurt Ashton to hear all this. It shouldn’t if he didn’t give damn about Luke, but he did. He still loved Luke. In some twisted, sick way he still loved Luke. Even though he was the one who left. He was the one who caused all this pain, yet it pained to hear it.

To Michae,l it was just. Luke had gone through hell the last months, even though he looked fine. Ashton was Michael’s best friend along with Calum and Luke, and Michael wished him no harm. But it was just for Ashton to feel some of Luke’s pain, since he was the one who caused it. Calum didn’t think so, however, he did think that Ashton needed to hear how Luke really was doing and not judge on how Luke was acting.

Because Luke wanted to pretend everything was fine. Keep up a flashy image, because maybe if Ashton saw how lovable Luke was, he’d take him back. That was what Luke was rooting for anyway.

“He still loves you,” Michael said, but it was quiet, almost like a murmur.

“I said stop,” Ashton’s hand hit the surface making the items on the table shake a little from the contact. Michael understood why Ashton didn’t want to hear this, because if he heard it. It wasn’t as easy to pretend he was over Luke. In many ways, Ashton was over Luke, or maybe that’s what he liked to tell himself, but there was still some part of holding on to Luke. And Luke was clinging onto Ashton.

Luke returned shortly after, and the three of them pretend like nothing had happened, but Luke could still feel the change in the atmosphere. A living and breathing proof that something had happened. They’d be stupid if they thought Luke couldn’t notice the change in Ashton’s behaviour. They had been dating for years, Luke would see those little things no one else would see, because they had spent so much time together.

Ashton’s eyes lingered on him seconds longer. He spoke softer, and a pace quicker than before. His hazel eyes refused to meet Luke’s blue ones for more than a second. And then there was Ashton’s nervous twitching. But Luke said nothing. He knew that Ashton wanted to pretend like nothing had happened.

If they’d been dating Luke would’ve reached for Ashton’s hand and given it a small squeeze along with a comforting smile. But they weren’t dating. Not anymore. So, Luke held his ground. He finished eating and participated in the conversation not facing Ashton once.

The now red-haired man was praying, and maybe even hoping, for Luke to turn his direction and smile at him. Or not smile but just look at him, once, but Luke didn’t. Ashton wanted to feel how it felt when Luke devoted his full attention to you. It had always made Ashton feel important, and he wanted to feel that now. But Luke’s attention was elsewhere, and it made Ashton’s slightly jealous. That Calum was the one receiving Luke’s attention and not himself. It was silly of Ashton to feel jealous on Calum, Luke had no interest in Calum, and he and Luke were through. Yet there Ashton was feeling almost angry that Luke wouldn’t even look at him once.

After a couple of glasses of wine, Calum and Michael took their leave. It was getting late, and both of that had a work tomorrow. It’d be stupid to press the limit, only to work with a hangover tomorrow. Luke to was about to leave, but he decided against it. People could communicate in other ways than words, and Luke had over the years together with Ashton learned to interpret some of Ashton’s ways of speaking.

The look Luke received when he was going for his leather jacket only said one thing. It was begging, even screaming, him to stay. Luke stayed. It was strange really, over the couple of months Luke would’ve killed for a look like this from Ashton. He had been so desperate for some attention from Ashton. Yet, right now, he didn’t want it.

Over a couple of months Luke had stood still not able to move on, and now after a couple of hours, it felt like he had lost interest in Ashton. He didn’t want him anymore. It must’ve been the wine. Luke was probably drunker than he realised. He was in love with Ashton, so why did it feel like he was falling out of love?

Was fate really that cruel? Luke had gone months longing for Ashton, but when Ashton finally showed some interest, Luke didn’t want him.

Ashton poured himself a new glass and asked Luke if he wanted one as well, Luke accepted one as well. A little unsure of what he was supposed to do or say. Luckily, Ashton was very easy to talk to and the conversation between them started to flow naturally.

“Luke, how have you been?” Ashton asked, and Luke smiled.

“Good, I’ve been good,” Luke answered, and he didn’t know if it was lie or not. He had fallen of the rails when Ashton had left him, but he was doing good. He was paying his bills, he was focusing more on his studies and he talked once in awhile with his family. Maybe not as much as they’d like to, but he wasn’t locking himself in.

Ashton gave him a disbelieving look, and Luke wondered what Michael and Calum might have told him. “I mean, it’s been some rough couple of months, but I’m managing. I’m doing good, honestly.” Ashton could take answer or leave it, he wasn’t getting anything else. It was closer to the truth, but only a very rough sketch of how Luke had been. He’d been lonely, insecure and he still wondered why Ashton didn’t love him. Was Luke unlovable? He really did wonder if he was.

“And you?” Luke asked, suddenly not feeling like the grown man he was. He felt small, breakable. He didn’t want to hear how well Ashton was doing, when he hadn’t been doing any good himself. Luke didn’t want to hear that Ashton was over him. Though he probably was over Ashton himself.

“Its been,” Ashton sighed before he continued. “I’ve had my up’s and down’s. I mean, I miss you like crazy, but it’s stupid because I’m the one who left.” A week ago, Luke would’ve smiled like a fool, and probably done something reckless like pulling Ashton into a kiss. Now he felt nothing. He didn’t feel his heart leap when Ashton admitted he missed him too, he didn’t feel the happiness he thought he felt. He felt blank, like he was already fading into nothingness.

Was Luke over Ashton or was he so buried in sorrow he didn’t feel anything but numb?

“I’ve missed you too,” Luke replied, because he knew it was the truth. Yet right now he didn’t feel the longing that he had grown used to the past months. The past months Luke had grown used to feel a constant longing after Ashton. Now the feeling was gone, and Luke wondered where it had gone. And what it had been replaced with, because right now he felt nothing.

Ashton did though. He felt a lot and acted on a stupid impulse. He dragged Luke into a kiss. A kiss Luke would’ve wanted every other day than today. Last month, last week and yesterday Luke would’ve wanted a kiss from Ashton. But right now, he didn’t want it.

He didn’t feel anything as Ashton kissed him. He felt the impact of Ashton’s lips and having him close. But he didn’t feel the sparks or the firework he used to feel when Ashton used to kiss him. Like before. Maybe Luke had fallen out of love. Luke wanted to kiss Ashton back, he really did. But he couldn’t.

So, he pulled away.

“If you had kissed me the day before this, I’d kiss you back with no hesitation. But now I can’t,” Luke started, and didn’t now how to continue. It was strange how one minute he felt his heart swell of the thought of Ashton, and the next that it didn’t even skip a beat.

Ashton said nothing, but his hazel eyes grew sad. A feeling Luke had started to grow used to. “I’m always too late, aren’t I?” Ashton tried to laugh it off, but the sentence was so sad that even Luke, emotionless Luke, could feel a thug at his heart. Poor Ashton.

Luke pitied him, but the pity didn’t turn into love.

“You know,” Luke started, “all this time I wondered why you left, I just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t love me. But I think I realised, it’s not you who won’t love me. It’s I. I don’t love myself, and I’m incapable of loving someone else before I love myself. You still have a dear place in my heart, and I want to come back for you when I’ve figured myself out. But before that, I don’t want to ruin this.” Luke pointed a finger at himself and Ashton. “A second time. Would you wait for me if I asked you to?"

Ashton kissed Luke’s cheek before he whispered into Luke’s ear. “I’ll always wait for you.”

With that, the two parted. Not as friends. Not as lovers. Just as a promise. A promise of finding back to each other when they were ready. Only fate knew if they eventually would, but that was part of the deal. They’d try. For themselves, and for each other.

Why wouldn’t Ashton love Luke, was the wrong question. It was more like, why couldn’t Ashton stop loving Luke? Why wouldn’t Luke love Ashton? Because he couldn’t. Not at the moment. Luke, however, hoped that the next time he saw Ashton, he could.

[giganticactus]

9.20.19

The last three years have felt like an absolute eternity.

On this day, three years ago, my recovery began. Three years ago, I was a shell of a person barely functioning enough to brush my teeth more days of the week than not. I hated myself to the point that I couldn't bare living life as the person I was. There was nothing about my personality or my mind that I did not despise. I had zero goals or hope or dreams for the future. I couldn't see my future beyond only a few days ahead. For a long time, I didn't want to find it.

My personality was a dark ball of depression and loneliness and emptiness. In constant need of an escape. In desperate need for help. I considered myself, no longer human, for a large chunk of 2016. There was no personality or humanity in my body. I was truly nothing but a combination of debilitating mental illnesses. I was living off of nothing else but guilt and codepency on a person I was in a very toxic relationship with at the time.

On this day three years ago, I broke off that relationship. It was the fourth day in a row which I didn't have suicidal thoughts. I felt that I truly had a 1% chance of surviving myself without her. I decided that I had to take that chance while it was in front of me. I had to let go of the one person who I knew was holding me down.

For another two months, I did nothing but sit at home, focused on avoiding triggers and finding ways to cope with the triggers. I played video games at all hours of the day, I forced myself to limit the food I ate while making sure I did still eat, trying to eat food that wasn't pure junk. Drank water as often as I thought about it. Focused on the parts of me that I hated most and tried my best not to hate them.

I realized, in the beginning of my recovery, that I had to build myself back up into a human being again. I had to recreate my personality and my relationships and social skills. I had to create motivation to get anywhere in my physical life. And it dawned on me. If I have to build myself back up, why would I go back to the person who put me onto this position in the first place?

The qualities that I wanted most in the person I wanted to be were: motivated, and didn't immediately run away from anything bigger than a mild inconveinece. I wanted to face challenges head on, I wanted to want to overcome obstacles. I've always been such a lazy person by nature that I wanted nothing to do with anything that wasn't completely easy to me. As I slowly built this person over the coming months, I got a temporary job working at Walmart over the holidays.

That seasonal job at Walmart that I spent 40 hours a week at for six weeks, was the best thing to happen to me in my recovery. It was just challenging enough that I was able to thrive from the challenges. I got my first hint of customer service skills, I worked as part of a team, I made friends. I learned a lot of responsibility and I rode my bike everyday to get there. But the number one thing that job did for me, was give me a sense of purpose. People relied on me. I had a job to do and I didn't have the option of walking away from it. I had a purpose. I hadn't had that feeling my entire life. And I must say, I was pretty good at it. I learned things pretty fast and honestly the only negative quality I had at that job was that I lacked a sense of urgency. But it wasn't hard to work around, and it definitely improved in the weeks I worked there. Two of my biggest fears were handling difficult customers and answering phones. Both of which I had to endure, and nine times out of ten they turned out well. I always had other people to fall back on as a safety net if I messed up. I was only eighteen, and the youngest worker in the store. Everybody looked out for me when I needed it and gave me a little push when I needed it as well. That job gave me a completely different outlook on the working industry and who Walmart is as a company. Both, in very positive light.

After that job ended, I was unemployed for five months. In that time I went back to my previous habits after my recovery began, but I was also a little more diligent about looking for another job. I had a small lick of motivation to find another purpose, but had trouble finding work that was close enough to ride my bike to, and would hire me with only six weeks of work experience.

I was hanging out with a friend of mine that April. He brought along a friend of his that we went to high school with. This friend was a shiftlead at my favorite place to eat. He asked me about what I was doing at the time, and when I told him I wasn't in school and didn't have a job, he told me that his work was desperate for hires. I was unsure about it, mostly because the store was a two and a half mile trip from my house, and the idea of riding my bike that far everyday sounded just a little bit like a real life horror movie. I told him I would think about it and he gave me his phone number for when I made my decision. A week later, he set up an interview with his manager for me and told me when to come in. I rode my back at two o'clock in the afternoon in early may to this interview where I was hired on the spot.

2017 was a year of recovery. I continued to build myself up and find habits that made me happy and healthy as I could be. I was truly the happiest I've ever been, in 2017. My depression quickly withered to a pebble because of this job and the friends I made. Riding my bike was great exercise, and I worked at a salad restaurant and was eating good healthy food. I was honestly of top of the fucking world.

In March of 2018, I met a boy. He was filling in from another store while we were short staffed. He was big and he was goofy and about as friendly as a stranger can get. Something about him drew me toward him. I knew from the day we met, that he was someone special. After a few days of chatting and working together, we and two other worker friends of mine hung out after work one day. He was the last one I brought home that night, and when he learned in to kiss me, I though "fuck it", and it was the best "what's the worst that could happen" decision I've made in my entire life.

We dated for one year and two weeks before breaking things off for complicated reasons. It wasn't a good breakup (if those exist), but it definitely wasn't a bad one. After we got out bearings and thoughts and feelings sorted, a week later we met up for the first time again to talk. Things weren't awkward, but it was sad. After that, we decided to remain friends for fear of losing eachother. There was a short period over the summer that we lost touch, while I was on my bender, but a month later we got to talking and hanging out again. We are in a very good place right now and see eachother often, once or twice a week. He is my best friend. And while the idea of getting back together has been kind of the elephant in the room for the last few weeks, for right now I'm enjoying the time I can spend with him.

My health and happiness fluctuate a lot. I currently just got out of a deep depression pit myself, due to denial of an environmental stressor I've chosen to ignore for nearly a year.

What truly matters, is doing my best. Finding what works and what doesn't. Keeping myself as far away as possible from where I was three years ago. The number one thing, is learning to love who I am. Changing the negative qualities that I can, and accepting the ones that I can't. Taking actions to keep myself as healthy and happy as possible while maintaining relationships and a shitty career.

I'm endlessly grateful for where I am today. I'm endlessly grateful for the journey I had to take to get here, and for the opportunities and decisions I will have in the future.

Right now, I'm finding reasons to be happy. Holding onto the people around me, finding balance between things I have and want and need, and finding goals and hope for the future. I am doing really good right now, recovering from my bender. I realized this time last year, that I will be in recovery for the rest of my life. And I know that its okay. Recovery means coming up from the down. The journey ahead looking better than the path left behind. I'm endlessly grateful.

Overall, I'm fairly happy. I have family whom I love and love me. I don't have many friends but the few close friends I have are extremely important to me. The situation at work is going better than it has been, and I'm currently looking for a second job. I've moved out of my dads house and hope to move out on my own pretty soon. Things look good right now. I have hope. I have things to look forward to, I have a better hold of saving money, and have a million things I want to save for. For instance, buying a new car and taking trips to Colorado to hold me over until I can eventually move there.

Recovery is a process I'm well familiar with. Rock bottom and I are old friends that I plan to never reunite with.

One last note I want to leave, is a message to the person I left on September 20th, 2016.

I see you. I see you as a human being. I see you as a human being with struggles. When I think about who you were three years ago, I see a human being.

I remember everything. The words said, the feelings felt, the anger and love and hatred shared. The memories and experiences, I remember it all.

I know now, especially after a similar friendship I had this past summer, what our relationship looked like. What it really was. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I saw a certain comment on social media that hit me like a train. And I had a whole new perspective to the situation.

I've always known what you did to me. How your words and your actions affected me. I know how codependent I became. How much I dreaded the idea of living life without you. How much I hated you some days and loved you on others. How desperate I was for your attention and the empty feeling I had whenever you would push me away. How grateful I was for the times you were there.

I've realized lately, of the impact I had on you. While I've never gotten your direct take on everything, I do now know some things. I know that I put you into a harmful situation. I trapped you in a spot that any action you took could become dangerous. At a young age, another person depended on you in a way that no person should. I realize now, the pressure I put on you. The damage I had to have caused at the time.

I don't know your true intentions of the time. I don't know what you thought or how you felt. I know that you hid a lot from me. I know now that it truly was for the better of both of us. I expected far more from you than I never should have asked. I see it now. I see the intensity of the impact it must have had.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm sorry for putting you in that situation that I depended on you so instensely. I'm sorry for the pressure. I'm sorry for the despair and desperation. I never should have done that to you. I'm truly, insanely sorry. I don't blame you for a single thing. I forgive you for any hardships caused. I'm sorry for any hardships I had caused you and your family. You didn't deserve it. I'm sorry.

[chestshot]

Creature in the dark love to scare the little children. The grownups say a prayer, and the demons are forced to return to the shadow realm. Never get caught in a blackout. Some never find their way home. Come in as soon as the streetlights illuminate the path of the righteous. The beetles and moths have gathered in a procession, to welcome the night. “Where were you?”  “I don’t know” was never the right answer. It is never going to be the right answer. “Stop crying. I’ll give you something to cry about.”

In this house, the belt and extension cords keep the disobedient in line. Sticks leave bruises. No Bueno. Back straight. “This is going to hurt me more than you.” I never understood that logic. “So why can’t I do it to you, like you did it to me?”  “Porque yo soy la puta que te pario (because I am the bitch that birthed you). I’m doing this because I love you. Your soul is in danger.” We used to kneel on the bare floor covered in rice. We were made to carry these bags above our head for twenty minute and think about how we were not supposed to fight. She went easy on us this time. “Now kiss your sister and tell her you love her and you’re sorry.”

What is obedience, and what happens when it is forced? Believe in unity. Value brotherhood. Seize any opportunity to join hands. Even as the big hands crush the small hands, like a fist full of lavender flowers. Don’t think so hard. The guardians have done all the thinking for us. Some things do not need an explanation. Guardians discourage the children from scrutinizing every detail. All we need is to believe. Can’t we all just come together as one? If I wanted to find everlasting life, why did I have to lay it down to begin with?

           The Knights of Columbus hosted Sunday breakfast every month. It was a fundraiser. As if the crusades did not provide enough funding. As if the parish had not given enough during the second collection. My mother would always hand me a folded dollar bill when the collection basket came by. It was a little secret between our Father and I (Mathew 6:1-4). I was planting a seed for his kingdom, and if we did not fork over the dough, let’s just say there was hell to pay.

           I went to Sunday school. I had to. Otherwise I could not get baptized or have my first communion. The instructor told us that Jesus loved us, so he died on the cross for us. If we loved Jesus, too, we had to love each other. We colored the nativity scene and learned a few prayers. We were taught a theology approved by the Roman Catholic Church, and classes were $25 per child. At the baptism, donations were formally encouraged. Those must have been some expensive ass crayons. I was a good boy, but never good enough to be an altar boy.

           I had refused to help in the family garden in the front yard one time. The bathroom floor was cold on my cheek. The sweat and tears running down my neck fell on the yellow linoleum. Now a grip on the arm, bent around my back. Too tight on the wrists. Cheeks got so hot that the salt water started to dry up and irritate my skin. Was it worth it? I know it was fucking hot outside, but couldn’t I have just done a shitty job or at least bullshit? Close the door. The neighbors can hear. Plus, the ac is on. I’ve been getting ass beatings since I was alive. If not from the guardians, then from bad decisions. I want to make them happen, but I always keep getting in my own way. Sometimes the floor can become comfortable. Just waiting for the blackouts to swallow me whole.

           God helps those that help themselves…. Wait.. That’s not in the bible!

                The Sunday breakfast consisted of yellow “just add water” scrambled eggs. I was too young to get hooked on coffee. Pass me the milk. I ate next to a church girl with an intellectual disability. Did God make her like that? I did not know. All I knew was that we were all equally as hungry after service. I felt like all the dark holes in the floor were so much smaller back then. If I stepped on a crack, I could always find my balance, or the guardian would help me till I recuperated.

“Hey guys. Where’s Jesus’s cloths. This is not funny. Oh… you guys hung him like this? Why? He was giving everyone free healthcare and food and shit. He doesn’t deserve this shit! Bring him down! Now!”

                Societies fascination for making atonement. Drink and drive? Dui. Tax evasion? Prison time (unless its some shit like a white collar crime). $50 dollar fines for parking in front of a fire hydrant, that one time I moved out of my parents’ house and rented a room from some asshole named Evander. I was not a child anymore. I was learning from experience. If I only learned to come home on time. They say “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” I could have only imagined why, but the dark holes were still manageable. No claws yet. No transformation.  The delinquencies of adolescence were not yet ripe. There was not enough blood.

           I helped myself to a glass of orange juice. High pulp. Tart. Almost as refreshing as the forgiveness of sins. Dixie paper cups. An old couple. They must have both been in their eighties. With not much time to live, they both enjoyed the pancakes with light butter. No syrup though. Diabetes, you know. He pulled the chair out for her. He took off her sweater and placed it behind the chair. He wiped his head with a towel, then his mouth. He regained his balance. and shuffled to his own seat. He led the prayer and they both sat down to share (maybe their last) Breakfast. Listened to your guardians and maybe you can live as long as them.

           One time, Father Manuel unofficially sponsored Mission Tortillas. “Como Dios Manda” literally means “How God Orders” or more precisely “What God Demands of us”. He was calling out the young women who decided club wear for a Sunday mass was appropriate. Father Manuel roasted them. “Esta bien que sea Qinceniera. (it would be cool if this was a Quincenera) Pero esta es la casa de Dios (but this is the house of God).” We were all sinners, but some of us did a better job at hiding it. We were all trying to avoid the transformation. We all needed to love. We just needed time to patch things up.

           Mother Theresa believed that suffering was how you got closer to God. She refused to let some children receive treatment, so naturally, they would die. Their souls belonged with the Lord. For a while, I started to believe that I was suffering, and therefore, there was no God. I think we suffer because we think we must, like it’s all part of the greater picture. I also think we suffer because we all have things we conveniently forget about. We should know better.

It’s not normal to stay up all night. It’s not normal to operate a vehicle under the influence of anything. It’s not normal to lie to the person you are with. It’s not normal to wake up at 3 pm every fucking day. It’s not normal to put things up your nose. It’s not normal to get in the car with a complete stranger. It’s not normal to think that you can live with people for free. It’s not normal to pass out at the bar. It’s not normal to constantly burn bridges. It’s not normal to forget what you did the night before. The blackouts swallowed me alive, over and over and over. I couldn’t see the streetlights. There was no one left to pay for my sins.

August 15thth, 2020, 2:30 A.M.-ish

I said I was going to work on it las week, and then the week before. I had checked into the catacomb of wasted ambitions. The creatures of the dark had left. I looked in the mirror and could not accept what I had become. What big claws and teeth.

                I had a dream I was filling up one cup with another cup, like an endless water mill. I’m not sure why I always felt this way. An endless repetition that never ends, like new ideas filling old ones, but never quite arriving at a solution, or like fish eating fish eating fish… Like a two gallon hourglass, constantly being flipped on it’s other end, ass up, face down, full of itself. The air bubbles, trying to escape. The lump in the throat of my life, always sinking into my stomach. The transformation was complete. I was living in a blackout.

           The beta, or Siamese fighting fish, is native to Thailand and Cambodia. You can pick them up at your local swap meet. I used to love going to the Broadacre swap meet after Sunday mass. I got my hands on everything an eight-year-old should never get their hands on: laser pointers, chained wallets, pocket knifes, fart bombs, shock pens, pet’s I wasn’t able to take care of. I’m not sure what the fish were so angry about. Probably from being confined to a tiny ass sandwich bag.

I got my ass kicked in a bar fight once, in 2018. Three against one. I do not remember. I was asking for something that was not on the menu. I was being annoying. Swings broke out like a Florida coastline and faster than you can say Tallahassee’s televised turnout tremendously terrified pterodactyls. Too small. Smack. Too slow. Smack. I fell to the floor, head between my knees. My jeans ripped. All I could see was stars at that point. I raised a barstool over my head and threw it against the bar, not sure if it landed on anyone. Always bust out the bar stool when you know you are going to get rocked. I ran out through the front entrance and I called 911. I left my bicycle behind. The cops were nice enough to drive it down to me. They told me that the security guard told them I was trying to buy drugs. I told them it was a hate crime. They told me to go home. I told them I would never go back to that bar again.

           Pigs in a blanket. I think there was bacon. Bacon or sausage. No. I think there were both. I woke up at 6am to eat this at 10am. 10:15 if you consider waiting in line. Why couldn’t everyone break bread the way we did? People always have to start a fight during a meal, or beer, if you’re a man of culture who would prefer to drink their meals. The indigestion was the worst. I could not eat breakfast too early because my stomach lining was still sensitive from the binge the night before. This did not stop me from killing a whole order of carne asada fries at night. I felt the weight of a bowling ball in my diaphragm when I woke up the next morning. Drinking water felt like swallowing marbles. This wasn’t normal. I’m not going to lie.

Well that’s great news, kind sir, because I can not condone dishonesty. Now please leave the patrons alone or get out of the bar.

           My older sister became an usher at church. She showed everyone to their seats. She wore a sash that said “Orden” or literally “Order”. She asked people if they could scoot over. She made room where people were resting their purses or when someone decided that they needed to sit with their legs wide open. Me and my younger sister always got pinches during service if we were joking around or being distracting. How did the people really bring their kids to church like that? We were so rambunctious!

The endless cycle of Life: that our guardians had to beat the shit out of us. So that maybe we could learn. Or so we would avoid the transformation. In the end, we resent their efforts and only make it worse for ourselves. I try to push myself up, but my left arm is too mangled to lift any weight. The dark holes just seem like the better option sometimes.  If the blackout won’t take me now, then maybe tomorrow.

The holes are patched up today. I found my way through the dark. My guardians were there all along.  I just needed some space. My mind is clear. I can focus again. I can have breakfast again. The nights can be long and dark, but I know the demons have left. My house is in order. My mind is clear. I finally have a clean conscience. I want to go back to the time when I was a child. Back to a time of trusting that the streetlights were guiding me all along. When I could hear my mother’s voice and know in my heart that the night was near, but only to visit.

Drink some water. Jesus fishes. Say a prayer. Missing pieces. Dying wish is - God’s my witness – you just know** * the nighttime* ** only** came to** visit**.

[theladyofdeath]

Tending to the Fire, part 5.

I love writing alongside my lifelong bestfriend, @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​, and I also love that you all have been so excited about this fic. Thank you for all the kind words you have sent us! I have continued with Part 5, from Nesta’s POV. Enjoy. :) part 1-part 2-part 3-part 4

I sat on his bed, a small, light pink box in my trembling hands.

Earlier that night, the atmosphere around the dinner table was strangely uncomfortable.

Cassian kept looking at me, an emotion that I could not quite grasp brewing in his hazel eyes. I hadn’t spoken to him much the last few weeks, after I snuck out of bed with him just before the sun rose. I hadn’t had the courage to. I think he took it personal, and maybe it was. It was nothing against him, though. He was only ever good to me.

That was the issue.

I was the issue.

The rest of our group ate in silence, tossing around a lame joke every now and then. I tuned them out. I scarfed down my beef roast and vegetables and pushed my chair back, hastily, before excusing myself. Feyre called after me, but I pretended I didn’t hear as I shuffled down the hall and through the front door.

Fresh air always helped when my anxiety was high. Fresh air, and Elain’s garden.

Lying flat on my back among the dirt and roses, I closed my eyes and took a series of deep breaths. Not long passed before two beings, reminding me of late nights spent reading stories under the blankets in our cottage, lied on both sides of me. I let them take my hands before I acknowledged their presence.

“He was looking at me strange tonight,” I admitted, quietly. “His eyes were full of longing, but he also seemed agitated. I don’t blame him, I suppose. He has every right to hate me. Maybe I’ve been unfair to him.”

I loved how close my sisters and I had become. I had never been good at opening up, but I was trying. For them.

They glanced at one another, earning a frustrated grunt from me. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“We can’t-“

“Elain, she needs to-“

“No, it is not up to us to-“

“You of all people should-“

“Just because you would have wanted someone to tell you, Feyre, does not mean-“

“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child, Elain, I am your High Lady-“

“There you go, pulling the High Lady card again. I’ll have you remember that I helped change your diapers-“

“Hush!” I jolted upright, rubbing my temples. “One of you better tell me what’s happening before I show off some of the training Amren has instilled in me in the last few weeks.”

The two glanced at each other once more, before Elain opened her mouth. “You don’t need to accept it. Remember that. Don’t feel pressured, don’t let it distract you. You don’t need to even acknowledge it right away. Just because it snapped into place for Cassian doesn’t mean-“

I stopped listening. My ears began pounding, ringing, as the blood rushed to them, and my face began to pale. “What snapped into place for Cassian?”

I already knew the answer, of course, I wasn’t stupid.

They knew it, too, because neither answered.

“Nes-“

I held up a hand, cutting Feyre off. “I need a minute.”

My little sisters watched me pace back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I hiked up my skirts, annoyed at how they swished around my ankles. The words were running through my mind, He’s my mate, my mate, my mate, and I felt the truth of those words.

I felt the love, the passion, the honesty, the desire for him, and I hated myself for it.

Elain broke the silence. “What are you thinking?”

I shook my head, raking a hand through my loose hair. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to feel?”

Feeling bad that I snapped, I apologized to Elain before plopping myself in the grass.

“You’re scared,” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. “It’s okay to be scared, Nesta.”

“I can’t accept it,” I said, wistfully. “I can’t allow the bond to….to….” I trailed off, unsure of what I was going to say.

“Would it be so bad?” Elain asked, inching toward me. “To have that with Cass?”

No. “Yes. To love someone, especially to that extent, is weakness. It’s vulnerability. It’s setting yourself up for heartache, and misery. I can’t. I won’t.”

They didn’t argue. Instead, Feyre took my face in her hands, and smiled. Just as she always had, she was taking care of me. “We are not blind. We know you better than anyone. We see how you look at him when you think no one is watching. I know how you feel, and it’s okay to feel those things. You don’t have to accept the bond. You can ignore it, or you can deny it, but if you love him like I know you do….would it be so bad? To have that with Cass?”

I blinked back tears, and that was answer enough for her. My sisters wrapped me in their arms under the starlight of Velaris.

After a minute of listening to the whistling of the wind and the chirps of the crickets, I sighed, “What now?”

Then, less than an hour later, I found myself in his room.

I had expected him to be back by then, but he was nowhere to be found. Sitting on his bed, and feeling ridiculous, my panic grew as I waited.

Deciding that looking around would take my mind off him, I found my way to his bookshelf. There were no books, which was to be expected, but what I found made no sense to me. There was a painting of a snowy forest, a dingy necklace, and a series of knives and daggers. The last thing I saw made me freeze, made the breath escape my lungs and stare in awe.

A ribbon. My ribbon.    

I gathered the strip of blue silk between my fingers. I had no idea he had it. I hadn’t even known it was missing.

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Twirling around, I realized I was not at all prepared for the male standing before me.

He had been training, it seemed. I found myself staring at the warrior, his sweaty chest gleaming in the faelight. His pants were hanging loosely, low on his hips, a tattoo trailing down his side and disappearing beneath his waistline. Cassian crossed his arms across his chest, and when he realized I wasn’t going to respond, he lazily raised an eyebrow. “Interesting of you to show up here when you’ve been ignoring me for the last month.”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” I snapped. “If you wanted to talk to me, you should have.”

“Always blaming it on me,” he chuckled, shrugging his broad shoulders. His wings fluttered behind him, a sign of his agitation.

I took a deep breath and held up the ribbon. “You kept this.”

“Yes,” he said, simply. “You left it in the library.”

“You could have brought it back to me,” I whispered as a small voice inside my head whispered, Stop wasting time, get on with it.

“It reminds me of beauty,” he replied, and my heart shuddered at his words. “Of all the good things this world has to offer.”

Turning my back to him, I nodded. “What about this?” I picked up the necklace, admiring the ruby that hung from the chain. “Who is this from?”

He laughed, breathlessly. “Jealous?”

Scowling, I placed it back where it belonged.

He chuckled, softly, as he came up behind me.  I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he spoke, “I found that on the streets when I was a child. Someone threw it away, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. One man’s trash is a bastard boy’s treasure.”

“You kept it,” I blinked. “After all this time?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I turned to him to find him studying me, curiously.

He shrugged, again. “I have a hard time letting go of certain things. That shitty piece of jewelry is one of the only things I owned as a child.”

“You shouldn’t swear in front of a lady,” I scolded.

“I gave up on manners a few hundred years ago,” he winked.

Rolling my eyes, I opened my mouth to ask about the painting, but he cut me off. “Why are you here, Nes?”

I hated when he called me that. Hated it, because it made me happy, because it did things to my insides that I didn’t think were possible.

Closing my eyes, I decided to get it out before I lost it, before I ran out his room and never looked back. “I’m stubborn. I’m stubborn, and I’m not always the nicest person, and I’m working on that, but I just can’t help it. I am a mess, and for some reason, you seem to like that. You’re kind to me. You protect me. You even make me laugh. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about the bond, but I know. I know, Cassian, that fate or destiny or whatever the hell it is thinks were made for each other….and that terrifies me. I’m scared. I’m scared to give myself to you. I’m scared to let you in. But, I would rather be completely terrified than lose you.”

When he didn’t say anything in return, I kept rambling on, unable to stop. “I was prepared to die for you, and I would have been okay with that ending. I wouldn’t have regretted it in the afterlife. So, if you think that I don’t-“ my voice broke, but I went on anyway, letting the tears flow freely. “If you think I don’t love you, you’re even stupider than I thought. Yes, I’ve been ignoring you. Yes, I’ve been running away. But, I don’t know how to feel these emotions. I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t know how to handle them. I need your help. I need- I need you, Cass.”

His eyes widened with every word I spoke, his love and adoration written plainly on his face. I knew I was crying, pathetically, and I tried not to look embarrassed. I held my chin up high as I took a step around him, and grabbed the box off his sheets. I lifted the lid, and he laughed at the display of cookies from the bakery down the street.

“Feyre said I’m supposed to offer you food.” To my dismay, I began to laugh with him. “I can’t cook, and I know these are your weakness.”

After grabbing a chocolate chip cookie, and taking a bite, he grabbed the box from me and sat it back down.

“You’re my weakness, Nesta Archeron.”

I didn’t fight him as his fingers grazed my cheek, and he brushed away my tears. I didn’t fight him as his lips pressed softly against mine.

I didn’t fight him as he pulled me against him in a sweet, gentle embrace, and whispered into my ear, “I love you, too.”

I saw it, then. Our life together. The memories we would make, the love we would experience together. Children, a house on Velaris’ countryside, traveling and laughing and feeling joy.

I didn’t fight him as we stopped being Nesta and Cassian, and became one.

[protectjugheadjonesiii]

Ever Since New York

Check the Ever Since New York Masterlist for series updates!

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: After his junior year, Jughead goes to New York for a writing internship.  

Warnings: some swearing, you might cry

Word count: 4,574

A/N: umm first of all thank you for 7000 followers?? holy crap. anywho wowowow this is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. It’s based off of the song “Ever Since New York” from Harry Styles’s album (which I love btw).  This is probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written tbh. Hope you all enjoy!

Tell me something, tell me something You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do

After years of saving the money he earned at the Twilight Drive-In and other odd jobs, Jughead finally had enough to buy a plane ticket to New York.  He had discovered a writing internship there that he knew he had to do. It didn’t take much effort to convince his dad to allow him to go; in fact, FP even offered to pitch in some money. Jughead refused, claiming that he wanted to do this all on his own.  He wanted to deserve this internship as much as possible.

He started talking to Veronica frequently, asking her about her time in New York.  She, of course, gladly answered all of Jughead’s questions.  She was glad to finally bond with her boyfriend’s best friend.  

Jughead also pestered Betty with questions, seeing as she had done an internship similar to his two summers ago.  It was a bit awkward at first, since the two of them used to date.  However, they both got over their awkwardness for the sake of preparing Jughead for his internship.

“It’s really amazing,” Betty told him.  “It’s a great experience, and you’ll learn so much.”

“What are other people like?” Jughead inquired.  “Are they pricks?”

“Sometimes,” Betty laughed. “It depends.  Do you know how many other people are participating in the internship?”

“Just one,” he answered, shrugging.  “I don’t know who it is though.”

“Well, if they’re a jerk then that’s gonna suck,” she offered.  “But if they’re nice, they may become one of the closest friends you’ll ever have.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Betty replied and nodded.  “You’re gonna spend all summer with this other person.  They’re either gonna drive you up the wall or become your new best friend.”

I need something, tell me something new Choose your words, ‘cause there’s no antidote For this curse, oh, what’s it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?

“Have fun in New York, Jug.” FP patted his son on the back as they stood at the airport gate.  Betty, Veronica, Archie, Fred Andrews, and Kevin stood behind FP, all wearing supportive smiles.  Jughead glanced around at the group who followed him to the airport, filled with admiration of his friends and family.

“Thank you guys,” he said, fighting back a giant grin.  “You didn’t all have to come, though.”

“Of course we did,” Fred Andrews argued.  “We’re not gonna see you all summer, Jughead.  We have to give you a proper send-off.”

“Well, proper send-off achieved,” Jughead laughed.  He watched as others in the line began to move.  “I guess I should go now.  Thanks for this.  See you all in August.”  As he turned on his heel and walked away, the group of six gleefully waved at Jughead’s retreating figure.

“You aren’t worried about Jughead all alone in a giant city?” Fred asked FP as they exited the airport.

“Nah,” FP responded, waving his hand.  “He’s a smart kid, he’ll find his way.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Hi, I’m Jughead Jones,” he introduced himself at the front desk.  “I’m here for the writing internship.”

The lady sitting behind the desk glanced up at Jughead.  “Ah, yes! We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Jones!” she exclaimed, standing from her chair.

“Oh, am I late?” Jughead inquired.  

The lady shook her head. “Oh no, not at all.  Your counterpart just got here early, so we’ve been waiting for you to start.”

“My counterpart?”

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she gestured to a girl sitting on a chair against the wall, flipping through a magazine.  The girl perked up when she heard her name, and saw Jughead and the receptionist staring at her.

“Is this him?” (Y/N) questioned, standing up and setting the magazine down.  Jughead noticed it was a TIME magazine.  

“Yes,” the receptionist answered.  “(Y/N), this is Jughead Jones.”  Jughead stuck his hand out to shake, and (Y/N) firmly shook his hand.

“I hope you’re not an asshole,” she blatantly said as they released hands, “because we’re gonna be stuck with each other all summer.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he quipped.  

(Y/N) raised her eyebrow in interest.  “Quick-witted,” she noted with a smirk forming on her face.  “I like it.”

“You better,” Jughead fired back, biting back a grin.  “Like you said, we’ll be around each other all summer.”

“If we were together any longer, I’d worry about you falling in love with me,” she jokingly warned. “So be careful.”

Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news There’s no water inside this swimming pool

“When’d you get here?” (Y/N) asked as she and Jughead exited the building, their first day of the internship finished.

“Two days ago,” Jughead answered with his hands in his pockets.  “What about you?”

“Last week.”  Her pace was quick, and she seemed determined to get somewhere.  “Are you hungry?  Because I’m starving.”

“I would love some food,” Jughead almost moaned at the thought of food.  He was only able to scarf down a small lunch in the midst of the business.

“I know this great burger place,” (Y/N) explained as she led the way to the restaurant.  “It’ll make every other burger you’ve ever eaten seem like a pile of shit on a bun.”

“I doubt that,” Jughead scoffed.  “There’s a diner where I’m from that makes the best burgers you’ll ever eat.”

“Where are you from?”

“Riverdale,” he said. “Pop’s diner, that’s what it’s called. If you ever find yourself in Riverdale, stop by Pop’s.  Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

“Well we’re not in Riverdale right now, Jughead Jones,” (Y/N) reminded him.  “So you should thank your lucky stars that I am your counterpart, because I’ve been here for the past week. You know what I’ve been doing for that week?  Exploring, Jones.  I have tried and evaluated twenty-one restaurants, and I know where to go for whatever you’re craving.”

“What if I’m craving Korean food?” he quizzed.

“32nd street, there’s a great Korean grill,” she immediately responded.

“Ethiopian?”

“There’s a quaint little place on 135th street.”

“What if I want to get wasted?” Jughead smirked.

“There’s a club a couple of blocks away with shitty security,” (Y/N) answered with a smirk equally as wide.  “Or maybe I was just an exception, seeing as how attractive I am.”

“I think you overestimate yourself,” he scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes.  

(Y/N) lightly slapped him on the arm.  “I do not!” she retaliated.  

“Whatever, keep lying to yourself.”  Jughead quickened his pace, leaving (Y/N) behind him.

“Hey!” she called out, rushing to catch up to him.  “You better not leave me!  You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“You’re still here,” he noted, casually wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  “Lead the way, (Y/N).”

Almost over, had enough from you And I’ve been praying, I never did before

“God, this food sucks,” (Y/N) whispered, gesturing towards the plates of Japanese food sitting in front of her and Jughead.  “That place we ate at last week was so much better.”

“True,” Jughead agreed with a mouthful of food.  “But this place is cheaper.”

“Rightfully so!” she exclaimed, jabbing at her tofu with a chopstick.  Jughead silently laughed and shook his head, continuing to eat his fried rice.  He watched as (Y/N) picked at her dish, examining each aspect of the meal.  

It had been three weeks since their internship had begun, and Jughead and (Y/N) quickly became close friends.  They bonded over the overwhelming amount of work at their internship and their food-discovering adventures.  Jughead didn’t know how he would’ve survived an entire summer in New York without (Y/N) by his side.  They even stayed at the same hotel, so during a sleepless night, one would wake the other and stay up all night talking.  On those nights, they would drink hot chocolate.

“I’ve got the check tonight, Jug,” (Y/N) said, snapping Jughead out of his thoughts as she took the bill from the waitress.  Jughead furiously shook his head.

“No, (Y/N), you got dinner yesterday,” he protested, reaching out towards the bill.  “I’ll cover it tonight.”

“You got lunch!” she exasperatedly exclaimed.  “I can handle it.  Dinner wasn’t even expensive last night or tonight.”  

Jughead huffed as the waitress returned and took (Y/N)’s money.  “Fine,” he pouted, “but we’re gonna go out for desert, and I’m paying for it.”

“Fine.”

“Ice cream?” Jughead offered, standing from his chair.  (Y/N) followed suit, and they exited the diner.  She slowly grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m feeling frozen yogurt tonight,” she countered his offer, grinning up at him.

“What’s the difference?” Jughead playfully scoffed, trying not to blush at their hand-holding.  They had started doing it last week after he almost lost (Y/N) in a giant mass of people.

“I swear to God, Jug, you said the same thing last week, and I explicitly explained it to you.”  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.  “Ice cream is-”

“Made with cream, whereas frozen yogurt is a yogurt-based treat,” Jughead quoted what (Y/N) had told him last week.

“I knew you paid attention to me.”

Understand I’m talking to the walls I’ve been praying ever since New York

In the middle of the night, the phone started ringing.  Jughead, still half-asleep, answered it with his eyes remaining shut.  

“You can come over,” he said, not waiting for the caller to initiate the conversation.

“Okay,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice responded, and she hung up.  A few moments later, a soft knock resonated through Jughead’s hotel room.  He rolled off of his bed, throwing on a t-shirt, and opened the door.  (Y/N) stood in the doorway, slightly shaking.  

“You cold?” Jughead murmured.  (Y/N) wordlessly nodded.  He gently grabbed her arm and led her inside, shutting the door behind them.  He stripped the blanket off from his bed and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping (Y/N) in the soft white material.  (Y/N) smiled up at him.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asked, sitting on his bed.  Jughead mimicked her actions and sat next to her.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

“How are you not sick of me?” she elaborated.  “I mean, we’ve been constantly hanging out for, what, a month and a half now?  You know if I’m annoying you, you can just tell me. I’ll back off.”

“Why would you annoy me?” he asked, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “You’re the best part about this internship.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not,” Jughead lightly laughed, slightly nudging her.  “I’m serious, (Y/N).  Before I came, I was asking my friend Betty about internships.  She did one two years ago, so she knew what she was talking about. She told me that the people I’ll meet during this internship will either drive me up the wall or become one of my closest friends.”

“So I haven’t driven you up the wall?” (Y/N) inquired with a tentative smile.

“Of course not,” Jughead laughed loudly this time.  A moment of silence ensued, both (Y/N) and Jughead overwhelmed by sleepiness.

“Is Betty your girlfriend?” (Y/N) broke the silence, staring up at Jughead.

“No,” he muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “She was,” he admitted, “but not anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” he shrugged. “Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) muttered. “I had a boyfriend.”

“Really?  That’s shocking.”

“Shut up!” she whined, elbowing him.  “Yes, I had a boyfriend.  He was actually a total dickhead.”

“How?” Jughead asked, growing concerned.  

(Y/N) looked up at him and giggled.  “Oh, you’re worried,” she cooed, placing a hand on his chin.  Jughead swatted it away.

“Sue me,” he retorted, but then grew serious.  “But really, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” she replied, facing away from Jughead.  “We were dating for a while, and… I don’t know.  He never really supported me in anything.  He wasn’t nice to any of my friends, and I didn’t notice for so long because I was so fucking smitten.  Eventually it hit me one day, and I realized that he was horrible.  So, naturally, I dumped him.”

“As one does,” Jughead nodded, nonchalantly tracing patterns on (Y/N)’s right arm with his thumb.  

(Y/N) slumped and sighed. “What time is it?”

Jughead glanced at the clock with its blaring, bright red numbers.  “Three o’clock.”

“Jesus,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.  “I should… I should get back to my room.”  She jumped off the bed and trekked towards the door, her bare feet dragging on the carpet.

“Wait,” Jughead commanded, grabbing her arm.  “Don’t go, it’s too late.”

“You say that as if I have to walk across New York City,” (Y/N) joked.  “It’s fine, Jug, my room is down the hall.  I’m not gonna get mugged.”

“No, but you may fall over before you reach your room,” he countered with a lighthearted smirk. “Just stay here tonight, okay?” (Y/N), too tired to argue, needed no more convincing as she turned around and climbed into Jughead’s bed. He laid down, patting the space next to him.  (Y/N) tentatively settled next to him, slowly resting her head on the neighboring pillow. “You can get closer than that, you know,” he told her, amused by her unusually timid nature.  She hesitantly scooted closer to him, until she was near enough for Jughead to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest.  “That’s better,” he whispered into her hair.  She draped one arm around his torso, the other arm tucked under their now-shared pillow.

“Night, Jug,” she murmured, eyes already closed.  He smiled at her.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Oh, Jughead, how is it?” Betty eagerly asked, her face displayed on his laptop screen.  

“It’s been great,” Jughead answered.  

“What restaurants have you tried?” Veronica questioned from her spot next to Betty.

“A bunch,” he vaguely replied.  “(Y/N) is attempting to try every restaurant in New York City.  I think it’s impossible, but she’s determined.”

“Who is (Y/N)?” Archie inquired, popping his head into the camera’s view.  

Jughead laughed, “Where do I begin?  She’s my ‘counterpart’ for the internship.  We’ve become very close.”

“I told you,” Betty grinned. Jughead nodded.

“You were right,” he admitted.  “Right when I met her, I… I don’t know, it just felt like something clicked between us. We’re inseparable.”  Betty’s expression slightly darkened, but Jughead waved it off as a bit off jealousy.

“Ah, you’ve got it bad, bro,” Archie laughed at his best friend.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like that, Arch,” he explained.  “It’s like Betty said, you grow really close to people when you spend so much time together.”

“But you don’t blush when you talk about them,” Veronica noted, pointing out Jughead’s dusty pink cheeks.

“You’re imagining things,” Jughead scoffed.  Betty, Archie, and Veronica shared a knowing glance.

“If you say so,” Veronica sing-songed.  Before Jughead could respond, there was a knock on his door.  A smile subconsciously grew on his face.

“Speaking of (Y/N),” he said, standing up and walking towards the door.  He opened it, and, as expected, (Y/N) stood there.

“Are we going or not, Jug?” she pressed, grabbing his hand.  “I told you the line for the rainbow bagels is super long.  I don’t want to spend all of Saturday waiting for one, even though they’re so fucking pretty.”

“I’m video chatting with my friends right now,” Jughead told her, gesturing towards his open laptop. “Can you wait like five more minutes?”

“Fine,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms.  She stepped into his room, allowing him to close the door behind her.  She followed him as he sat back down in front of his laptop, resting her chin on his shoulder as she peered at the screen. “These are your friends?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “That’s Archie,” he gestured towards the redhead, “the blonde one is Betty, and that one is Veronica.”  (Y/N) smiled at Jughead’s Riverdale friends.

“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled.  “Jughead was just talking about you.”

“Of course he was,” (Y/N) joked, nudging his arm.  Jughead playfully shoved her back.

“So how’s it been? Three months with the infamous Jughead Jones?” Veronica inquired with a smirk dancing on her lips.  

“Well it hasn’t been three months quite yet,” (Y/N) corrected her.  “I’ve only gotta deal with this guy for two more weeks.” Jughead’s face slightly deflated as this realization hit him.  “Let me tell you, he’s quite the handful.”

“We know,” Archie laughed. Jughead opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/N) interrupted him.

“Shit, I left my phone in my room!” she exclaimed, standing up.  “I’ll be right back, Jug.”  She turned and faced the laptop.  “It was great talking to you guys.  I hope we can meet sometime!”  She quickly exited Jughead’s room.  Immediately, Veronica, Archie, and Betty bombarded him about (Y/N)

“She’s perfect,” Veronica cooed.  “She’s actually flawless, Jughead.”

“You lucked out, bro,” Archie told him.  “She’s a keeper.”

“She’s absolutely amazing, Jughead,” Betty smiled.  Jughead grinned and shook his head.

“You guys, I told you-”

“Don’t even go there,” Veronica interrupted him.  “That girl is absolutely perfect for you.  The way you two look at each other is… it seems like it’s from a fairytale. You two are soulmates, Jughead.

“She does seem great, Jug,” Archie agreed with her.  “I mean, I’ve never seen you like that with anyone.  No offense, Betty.”

“None taken, Archie,” she waved his comment off.  “They’re right though, Jug.  You never looked at me the way you look at (Y/N).”  Jughead couldn’t think of a clever retort.  “But be careful, Jughead.  Like (Y/N) said earlier, you two only have two more weeks together. If you haven’t done anything up to this point, you might want to consider whether or not it’s worth it to start something now.  Just ask yourself, is it worth the heartbreak that’ll happen when you have to leave her?” She pursed her lips as she watched Jughead’s face darken on her screen.

“Thanks guys,” he said halfheartedly.  “Really, thank you.  I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

Tell me something, tell me something You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do Tell me something just before you go

“Our last day!” (Y/N) exclaimed, prancing into Jughead’s hotel room.  After the video call he had two weeks ago ended, he decided to give her a key to his room.  “Our internship is over, and we have one last night to spend together, Jug.  Out of every place in all of New York City, where do you want to go, Jughead Jones?” she asked seductively, a coy smirk growing on her face.

“I’m feeling burgers tonight,” Jughead answered, trying to stop his expression from deflating.  “And then maybe we can get some cupcakes?”

“I like it!” she grinned. She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room, beginning the trek to their favorite restaurant.  “Jesus, I can’t believe it’s been three months already.”

“I know,” he agreed.  “It seems like my plane landed just yesterday.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed. They spent the rest of their walk in silence, choosing to listen to the bustling New York traffic.  

The waitresses at the restaurant, at this point, knew Jughead and (Y/N) as regulars.  They didn’t even bother giving them menus, knowing exactly what each of them would order.

“You two are my favorites,” the waitress whispered as she set their burgers in front of them.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) grinned. “I’m sorry to say, but it’s our last day here.”

“Oh,” the waitress sighed. “Well, you two better visit.  I don’t know what I’ll do without my favorite regulars.”  She walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Jughead to enjoy their burgers.

“You know,” Jughead noted through a mouth full of burger, “I don’t know how you’ve tried almost every restaurant in New York City while becoming a regular here.”

“Talent, Jug,” she told him, wiping her mouth on a napkin.  “It takes a hell of a lot of talent.”

They finished dinner and went to their favorite bakery to get cupcakes.  On their walk back to the hotel, they fell into silence once again. It wasn’t broken until they entered Jughead’s hotel room.  By now, almost all of (Y/N)’s stuff ended up in here.  They found it easier, rather than constantly having to switch back and forth between rooms to grab their stuff.

“So that was our last day,” (Y/N) claimed, flopping onto the bed.  Jughead stood by the bedside, crossing his arms with an amused smile.

“Unfortunately, it was,” he nodded.  He jumped next to her on the bed, earning a shriek from (Y/N).  He swallowed as he stared at her, knowing what he had to tell her. “Do you remember what you said to me on the first day we met?”

“That I know where to go for whatever you’re craving,” she answered with a grin.  Jughead laughed and shook his head.

“No, the other thing.”

“I hope you’re not an asshole because we’re gonna be stuck together all summer?” she offered.  He shook his head again.

“Nope.”

“I called you quick-witted?”

“No!”

“What is it?” (Y/N) demanded, sitting up so that she was hovering over Jughead as he remained laying down.

“You told me that if we were together any longer than just the summer, I might fall in love with you,” he explained, sitting up so that they were face-to-face.  (Y/N)’s grin slightly faded.

“Oh,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I did say that.”

“You were wrong,” Jughead said, trying to keep his voice steady.  He slowly grabbed her right hand.

“Really?” she asked as her eyes followed Jughead’s hand.

“Betty told me to be careful,” he explained, “because we’re not gonna be together that long.  And she was right.  I mean, why would we risk an immense amount of heartbreak just for the sake of a blissful few weeks together?”  When (Y/N) said nothing, he continued.  “So I figured I could just suck it up and get through the rest of our time together and not say anything.  It was a good plan, but you… you ruined it.”

“Sorry,” she quipped with a small smirk.  Jughead lovingly rolled his eyes.

“No you’re not,” he laughed. “You’re not sorry, and you shouldn’t be. Within the three months we’ve spent together, I’ve grown closer to you than I ever have with anyone else.  Hell, my ex-girlfriend said that we were great together.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” he responded, grabbing her hands.  “Jesus, (Y/N), I’m in love with you.  I’m fucking in love with you, and it sucks.  It sucks because I don’t know if I’m ever gonna see you again.  And this is gonna cause so much heartbreak, for me at least, and maybe you too.  I just… I can’t keep it from you anymore.  But I also think, deep down, you already knew how I felt.”  Tears clouded (Y/N)’s eyes, and her lips quivered as she quickly enveloped Jughead in a hug.

“Fuck,” she whispered into his neck.  “Fuck, of course I love you, Jughead.”  He pulled himself out of her grip and stared at her, stroking his hand across her cheek. They both leaned in, pressing their foreheads against each other.  Their lips ghosted over each other, only millimeters apart.

“If I kiss you-”

“If you kiss me, everything is gonna go to shit, Jug,” she interrupted him.  He nodded but didn’t pull away.  They sat there like that on his bed on a minute, (Y/N) sitting on Jughead’s lap with her arms around his neck, foreheads touching and lips barely brushing.

The tension grew unbearable, so (Y/N) closed the gap and pressed her lips against his, trying to express what she had been feeling for the past three months.  

Jughead, too, attempted to convey every pent up confession he had, wishing that kisses could speak. He wanted his hands, which were encircling her waist, to tell her how she charmed him with her wit.  He wanted his eyes, which were closed with pleasure, to tell her how beautiful she was, especially when she trudged into his hotel room at three in the morning.  He wanted his lips, which were pressed against hers, to tell her how much he loved her.  He loved her, he loved her, and he wanted to keep saying it for the rest of his life.

For the sake of oxygen, the two pulled apart.  They kept their foreheads resting against each other.  

“Everything’s gone to shit,” (Y/N) whispered, and Jughead burst out into laughter.  (Y/N) followed suit by giggling, and their still-entangled limbs caused them to fall onto the bed so that (Y/N) was laying on top of Jughead. This only caused the pair to laugh harder.  

When their chuckles finally died down, (Y/N) climbed off from on top of Jughead and laid next to him, resting her head on his chest.  She combed her hand through his raven locks.

“I’m sorry that I fell in love with you,” Jughead apologized, kissing the top of her head. They were slowly falling asleep.

“Thank you for falling in love with me,” (Y/N) whispered, eyes fluttering shut.  “It may have all gone to shit, but it was worth it.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

Jughead stepped off the plane and saw his dad and friends standing at the gate, excitedly waiting for him.  He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even bother smiling.  Immediately, everyone understood.  

While they were awaiting Jughead’s plane’s arrival, Betty, Veronica, and Archie explained to the rest of the group about (Y/N).  They told them about how Jughead spent three months falling in love with this girl, and they explained that they had never seen Jughead look so smitten before.  

“How was New York, Jug?” FP asked, taking Jughead’s suitcase from him.  Jughead shrugged.

“It was nice.”

“Good food?” he questioned, trying to get his son to open up.  Jughead nodded tiredly.

“Yeah, food was great,” he replied monotonously.

“And the internship?”

“Helpful,” Jughead responded.  “I think it’ll help me improve as a writer.”

“That’s good,” FP said, raking a hand through his hair.  “You had another person with you, right?”  FP noticed Jughead tense up at this.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Yeah, I had a counterpart.”

“What was she like?” Jughead looked up at his dad.

“You already know who it is,” he replied, shaking his head.  “Who told you, Betty?”  FP pursed his lips.

“Yeah, her and Archie and Veronica.  But listen, Jug, you’re going to have your heart broken countless other times.  You’ll get over this girl,” he attempted to comfort Jughead.

“Dad, she wasn’t just a girl,” he protested.  “She was amazing and quick-witted, and I fell in love with her and then everything went to shit.  But the worst part is that it’s okay, because she loved me too.  She fucking loved me, and I kissed her, and now I may never see her again.”

“Well if you loved her that much, you may see her again,” FP shrugged.  “Fate is a tricky thing, son, but the universe seems to cooperate better if you love someone.”

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow @thatspidernamedmeagan @isabellarose5150 @mariadrinaa @amyyleblanc1999 @sweetvengeancee@latenightbooknerd @sweetthoughts-of-insanity @icouldntcomeupwithausername123 @britishfancyturtlebraindead @sxazzaxs @fragilefrances @opiate-this-hazy-head @onceuponagladerhead @sarahvaliquette @deanskitten @vibes09 @rainbows-and-glitter-bitch @pharaohkiller @platonicasever @littlemisscaptainfandom @becausefuckkyouthatswhy @poorsop @klf1999 @cass-v-95 @eliza-hamilton-helpless @bugheadedarchie  @emmacoffey13

[flyingsassysaddles]

Lunch With the Great Powers

England looked around the restaurant. To his right, sat the Russian Federation, looking at his phone. On his left sat the United States of America, looking at his phone. He let the silence hang for a couple minutes before he got irritated. He had summoned the bitter rivals here at this restaurant to fix relations, not stare at digital devices. Sighing, he started to order his drink.

“Tea for me please.” At the mention of food, America’s head whipped up, staring at the awkwardly standing waitress and grinning.

“Awesome! How about some sweet tea for me please!”

“ I’ll have some coffee,” Russia said as he looked disappointedly at his menu. England flinched and all at once realized it was probably a stupid idea to bring the man into an American diner. Again the silence hung for a couple more minutes. Okay, time to start a conversation.

“So Alfred, why did you choose sweet tea as your drink?”

“Hmm? Oh, I freaking love the stuff, you know, southern roots and all. In fact, I could probably drink a gallon of the stuff,” he boasted.

Desperate to keep the conversation alive, England decided to seize the topic of tea before Russia interrupted.

“So you like sweet tea, Fredka? Your tea is probably nothing compared to the tea at my place,” said the Russian with an odd look in his eye. “It’s the sweetest tea around.”

“Doubt that. I got the best tea commie, deal with it.” Oh god, England thought. They were about to have a competition.

“You want to bet?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Miss waitress lady, my friend here would like a cup, no, a bucket, of Russian tea. Please get that for me, da?” Russia gave one of his special smiles, and the lady rushed into the kitchen with a “yes sir.”

“Dude, we’re at an American diner. How the hell is she gonna find Russian tea?”

“I have faith in our pretty waitress friend.” Sure enough, a couple minutes later the waitress dashed out the kitchen with a pot of tea, trembling as she put it down.

“H-here you go sir.”

“Ah, thank you very much. You were right England, this place does have good service!” Because you scared the crap out of her, England thought, but wisely decided to keep the thought to himself.

   “Wow, that looks WEIRD! Like soup!” America was about to start drinking when Russia lunged for the kettle, jerking it out of America’s hands.

“No no no, we must make sure it has enough sugar first!” Russia declared, with the odd look back in his eye. “See,” he said after taking a sip, “not nearly sweet enough!” We need to put in, let’s see, three packets?”

“Of SUGAR?!”

“Da, that sounds quite right.” America stared in horror as Russia gleefully poured in the sugar. “Now, all ready. That is, of course, you can’t handle it?” There it was, those four words that could make America do anything. England searched his pocket for where he kept his spare alcohol. This was going to take a while.

“HA! Never! I can do anything!” America grabbed the kettle and poured the tea. Gulping, he threw it down his throat and try to hide his gagging. Dear GOD that’s terrible, he thought. He looked at Russia gleeful face. The sick bastard thinks he can just dare me to drink liquid sugar. See how you like this commie.

“You know Russia, now that I’ve eaten some of your cuisine, it’s only fair that you get to eat some of mine,” America said nonchalantly. “You know, in the name of good minded diplomacy and all that.”

Russia swallowed and glanced at America’s leering face. Uh oh.

“In the name of diplomacy, I suppose it’s only fair,” he tried to maneuver while glancing at America’s official evil face. “However, I wouldn't want to be a bother-”  

“Nonsense! For you, it’s never a bother. Hey waitress lady, I need an ultra large big mac shaped ham sandwich with tomatoes, mayonnaise, cheese, and jalapenos stat!” The waitress looked at America’s rapidly building evil aura and bolted into the kitchen once more.

“Is that, um, type of sandwich really necessary?” Russia gulped. He couldn’t stand spicy foods, a fact America was well aware of.

“Make that DOUBLE jalapeno!”

Finally, the sandwich, if it could really be called that, was plopped in front of him in all of its disgusting glory. It was easily the size of Russia’s head, with mayonnaise dripping out of it from the side. It was stuffed to the brim with jalapenos, ham, and some other mystery thing he could only hope was cheese.

“Hey England, you were right! There is great service here!” America said as he analyzed the sandwich with a malicious eye. “Well commie, dig in! Unless, of course,” he grinned, “you can’t handle it.” England took another gulp of alcohol.

“BA! Of course, I can handle it! It’s just a sandwich! As terrible as American cooking is, I can still eat it!”

 “Prove it then, o’ mighty one.”

Russia looked at the dripping sandwich, and then to Alfred. Was it really worth it? He looked at the sandwich, and then back to Alfred again.

About fifteen minutes later, the sandwich was no more, and Russia was groaning on the table in agony. England looked up from the blank plate, face white from seeing such a horror, to see Alfred snapping a picture and laughing.

“Holy shit, you ACTUALLY did it! You ate that goddamn sandwich! I am posting this everywhere! That was sick man!”

Russia bolted up and slammed his hands on the table, making Alfred drop his phone and cracking the wooden frame slightly. “Alright,” he spat through gritted teeth, “my turn.”

“Um, heh, what do you have in mind?”

“WAITRESS LADY!” Russia roared, making the waitress who had been sitting there in horror to stand at attention in fear. “I want the grossest, most disgusting, most unappealing, most mind-boggling tasteless thing you have in the diner! For my friend here.”

“No no DON’T LISTEN TO HIM!” America shouted, but too late, the waitress was already in the kitchen. Goddamn it. Shitty shit SHIT! I’m gonna die!

“Nervous,” Russia snarled as they waited for the monster to come out.

“N-not in the slightest! You forget commie, that I can eat anything! Even what, um, thing, might come out of that kitchen!”

“Are you sure? You can always back out.” The words like a coward hung like a dead man in between them, and America said nothing as they continued to wait for the thing that would come out.

Finally, the waitress shambled out of the kitchen with a bowl of, something, in her hands. The three men watched in horror as it was plopped onto the table and they could finally see its contents. Slimy noodles that looked like worms slithered in the bowl, and random meat looking things poking out of the soup with a red liquid dripping down. The broth was gray, and it smelled like the kind of thing you would find in a trashcan after 7 weeks of rot had set in. Green bits floated and sank periodically around the bowl, and there was a hard yellow bean-shaped thing right in the middle. Russia felt like throwing up just by looking at it. It’s perfect.

“H-here is the most disgusting thing we have s-sir.” The waitress glanced at the three men, one who was as white as a sheet, another that had the most malicious and evil smile on his face, and the other looking considerably drunk. “Is there a-anything else you need?”

They all waited in silence as Alfred gaped at his meal. As the waitress turned away, Alfred finally spoke.

“WAIT!” The waitress whipped around.

“Is there something else you need Fredka? You wouldn’t be backing out, would you?

“No no no, I just need one more thing.”

“And what would that be sir?”

“Another one of these amazing meals, for my friend here.”

“WHAT?!” Russia roared. But before he could tell the waitress to stop, she had already bolted back into the kitchen. “WHY?!”

“Well, I thought that since I have to eat it, you do too.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT WE AGREED ON!”

“Welcome to capitalism commie. How about, whoever eats this first, wins.”

The waitress came out with the same dish and plopped it near Russia. He looked at the disgusting, gray, rotten soup and looked back at America.

“Wins what?”

“Um, let’s see.” Alfred drummed his fingers on the table and furrowed his brow in concentration. “Ooh, how about whoever finishes first gets Syria!”

“Deal.”

The two men threw themselves at the dish and began eating like wild dogs. The waitress gave a scream of terror and England continued drinking.

Forty-five minutes later…

“I can’t feel my toes.”

“What day is it again?”

“I have no clue.”

The two full-grown adults were lying on the floor, clutching their stomach in agony.

“I think I got food poisoning.”

“Da, me too.”

As they continued to groan, England stood up, thoroughly drunk and cursing himself for bringing Russia and America to the same place together. Making them behave civilized around each other was like herding cats. It was a miracle they didn’t kill someone, England thought, though I don’t think killing themselves is any better.

“England! Shoot me please! Death is better than this torture,” Alfred sobbed in pain. “I can’t feel my ears!”

“No! Shoot me! My stomach had turned inside out and I can see flying rabbits!”

“Dude, I can see them too!”

England sighed and handed their traumatized waitress a wad of cash. “Keep the change,” he said while walking out the door.

“Hey, England! Who won?!”

“Da, who won?!”

“I think it’s safe to call this one a draw.” He looked at the two superpowers groaning on the floor and started to walk out again in defeat. Where did I go wrong with that boy?

“No! I wanted to win!”

“Alfred, I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh god me too!” The two nations rushed to the bathroom, pushing each other out of the way and throwing themselves on the toilet.

__

Somewhere far far away, Syria bolted up.

“What’s wrong Syria?” Iran asked, puzzled that Syria was interrupting their chess game.

“America and Russia just did something stupid.”

“What else is new? C’mon it’s your turn.”

[mouthmoodz]

ALL THE QUESTIONS

YOU ABSOLUTE MADMAN

ok here we goooo

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? 

Spotify

2. is your room messy or clean?

Usually messy

3. what color are your eyes?

Hazelicious

4. do you like your name? why?

yeah i like my first name a lot actually? (riley) i like that it’s a gender neutral name; idk why exactly but i wouldn’t want to have a girl’s name. and i’m glad my parents spelled it right. 

5. what is your relationship status? 

Singlé

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

“annoying little fucker”

7. what color hair do you have?

Red

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

silver 2002 oldsmobile intrigue

9. where do you shop?

the world wide web

10. how would you describe your style?

executive dysfunction femme (with occasional bursts of lolita or otome)

continued under the cut

11. favorite social media account

tunglr dot net i suppose, i have the most followers and pals here by far

12. what size bed do you have? 

Twin.

13. any siblings?

I have an older brother

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

hmm, to be honest it’s hard to say because I’ve been hardly anywhere so I don’t know what kind of place I would enjoy being the most. But probably a fairly large city somewhere in the US, i just don’t know which one.

15. favorite snapchat filter? 

doggo

16. favorite makeup brand(s)

I love Too Faced. love to actually own some of their products someday

17. how many times a week do you shower?

i have depression

18. favorite tv show?

the x-files or always sunny

19. shoe size?

6

20. how tall are you?

5′1″

21. sandals or sneakers? 

sneakers

22. do you go to the gym? 

who the fuck do you think i am,

23. describe your dream date

I never know how to answer this question because not to be corny but if I really like the person I’m on the date with then it doesn’t matter that much what we’re doing??? as long as it’s not something really boring.

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? 

$6.03

25. what color socks are you wearing? 

white

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

two

27.do you have a job? what do you do? 

ya i’m a library page

28. how many friends do you have? 

Depends how narrowly you define the term “friend.” Also I’m not going to try to count because that’s just not chill

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

Depends on your perspective

30. whats your favorite candle scent? 

I like vanilla scented candles

31. 3 favorite boy names

32. 3 favorite girl names

this is super hard for some reason? once my friend made me decide what i would name a boy and a girl if i had them and eventually we came up with alice and tristan. other than that i’m not sure, though recently I have thought that Neil is a very nice boy name. we all know why this is, of course, but it really is I swear. 

33. favorite actor? 

34. favorite actress? 

I don’t really know or care about famous people that much ever so I’m just gonna say like.... everyone from star wars.

35. who is your celebrity crush?

Like I said, I don’t really know or care much about famous people. And most of them are shitty people and/or not interesting.

36. favorite movie? 

i have seen like 0 movies ever but i like edward scissorhands a lot

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? 

yeah i do and i guess my favorite book is the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy

38. money or brains? 

money my dog i’m neither a sapiosexual nor a fool

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? 

there have been a number of variations applied to me over the years but the most common one at the moment is probably riler

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

none for an emergency, several times for gettin my brain scanned by a big ol magnet and shit like that

41. top 10 favorite songs

i answered this not that long ago when i reblogged this ask meme before so i will just endeavor to say 10 DIFFERENT songs that i like a lot, again in no particular order

love is greed- passion pit

soratobu toshikeikaku- capsule

1901- phoenix

undercover martyn- two door cinema club

untrust us- crystal castles

orpheus and eurydice- allegra rosenberg

drunk drivers/killer whales- car seat headrest

life on the nickel- foster the people

dirty paws- of monsters and men

wallspin- neil cicierega

42. do you take any medications daily? 

ya lexapro and wellbutrin

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

dry

44. what is your biggest fear? 

never accomplishing anything worthwhile

45. how many kids do you want? 

zero

46. whats your go to hair style?

doing absolutely nothing to my hair

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) 

small

48. who is your role model? 

my boy neil c, unproblematic fave of the century

49. what was the last compliment you received?

I think it was when i was in the grocery store and someone said “I love your red hair!” They also had red hair. feels good feels organic even though I don’t like talking to strangers

50. what was the last text you sent?

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I never really "found out,” I just sort of figured it out. I forget when exactly, but it was pretty early on.

52. what is your dream car?

nyan cat lamborghini

53. opinion on smoking?

it’s bad for you but i’m not an Ass to people who do it

54. do you go to college?

ya

55. what is your dream job?

artist, author, some sort of independent content creation like that

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

the suburbs i guess? unless the rural place was exceptionally beautiful

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? 

no ‘cause i’m not a CRIME DOER

58. do you have freckles?

fuck dude i sure do

59. do you smile for pictures?

yes but only with my mouth closed and if the person taking the picture isn’t taking their sweet time about it

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

1559

61. have you ever peed in the woods?

nope

62. do you still watch cartoons?

I haven’t lately since I stopped watching su and nothing else has caught my attention but I’m not opposed to the idea

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

I don’t really eat fast food

64. Favorite dipping sauce?

ranch dressing

65. what do you wear to bed?

i usually wear a nightgown

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

no but i came in third place in one once

67. what are your hobbies?

reading, drawing, not writing, lolita fashion, collecting obscure pictures of internet funnyman neil cicieregegerega

68. can you draw?

allegedly

69. do you play an instrument?

haha funy sex number. no but i used to play the viola

70. What was the last concert you saw?

I’ve never been to a proper concert

71. tea or coffee?

tea

72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

i don’t go to either of those places

73. Do you want to get married?

I go back and forth on this. It’s not super important to me, but if I was ever truly convinced I wanted to stay with somebody forever I’d go ahead and do it

74. what’s your crush’s first and last initial

FUCK both their first and last initial are not that common so people would be able to tell who i am talking about probably

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married?

I’m a gay but I guess if my wife had a cooler last name I might take it

76. what color looks best on you?

black probably

77. Do you miss anybody right now?

Ya my friends!! We haven’t hung out very much lately :(

78. Do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed

79. Do you believe in ghosts?

Yes because I am one

80. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

I fucking hate it when people crack their knuckles!! Stop it what are you doing to your APPENDAGES you weirdoes!!!

81. last person you called?

my mom

82. favorite ice cream flavor?

chocolate chip cookie dough

83. regular oreos or golden oreos?

Golden oreos tbh

84. Chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

Sprinkles don’t taste very good and they’re essentially pointless but at least rainbow sprinkles are pretty

85. What shirt are you wearing?

A plain black pullover hoodie

86. What is your phone background?

Unico in Bloomland 

87. are you outgoing or shy?

shy

88. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

idk no one does that but it depends who it is i guess

89. do you like your neighbors?

I don’t know them but they have never been annoying so they’re cool i suppose

90. Do you wash your face? At night? In the morning?

no i just cleanse it along with the rest of me the way god intended, in the Shower

91. Have you ever been high?

yeah once it was pretty fun

92. have you ever been drunk?

nope

93. Last thing you ate?

A green bean. except it wasn’t a green bean, but some other bullshit type of bean that’s practically the same thing only not.

94. favorite lyrics right now

“if you were a piece of dust, I’d shine a light through the busted window and I’d learn to trust in the updraft that you’re on.” -The Only House That’s Not On Fire (Yet) by Lemon Demon

95. summer or winter?

summer

96. day or night?

time is fake my guy

97. dark, white, or milk chocolate?

milk

98. favorite month?

Hmm... maybe october

99. what is your zodiac sign?

pinchy the crab

100. who was the last person you cried in front of?

my best friend

[aaronbleyaert]

I think maybe I need a recent awful/awkward/assy story about how you're so bad with women. I'm starting to think it's just a ruse. I think you're actually a casanova.

That’s me! Mr. Casanova. Here is, no joke, my most recent date I’ve been on. It’s long, but you asked. Ready? 

So.

There’s this girl whom I’ve known for a few years through mutual friends. We’ve never hung out and I haven’t spoken to her in a good three years (and the last time we “spoke” was over Facebook Messenger).

A few months ago, she messages me out of the blue, saying she just saw my short film and liked it. We go back and forth, and since all of Facebook is ruined for me because I get so many messages on there every day, I eventually just give her my email address. 

We email back and forth for a while, and I’m like, “Look, this is dumb, but if you’re ever in LA, text me and we can grab coffee”. It’s what we call in the business “a sad and pathetic attempt at sort of asking a girl out”. Unbelievably (and I read the text three or four times in a row because I literally cannot believe it) she texts me the next day and says she’s coming to LA the following Tuesday and that I should have dinner with her. 

I break out in a preemptive nervous sweat.

Now, first off, this girl is way out of my league. I mean, WAY out of my league - she’s funny, smart, super weird, and gorgeous. It’s ridiculous. Also, I mention I own a Brontosaurus egg (aka “Sexual Kryptonite”) and she actually gasps and says that she wants to see it. Is this my perfect woman?

Also, no one ever comes after me or makes a move on me or hits on me, ever, so I’m a bit taken aback (and if I’m being honest might have had a fleeting thought or two that maybe this was some sort of trap and she was going to murder me) but I’m weird and paranoid not stupid so I say yes to dinner.

The day she’s supposed to come to LA for dinner rolls around, and I end up having to do a last minute shoot at work so I have to cancel the morning of. It’s shitty and I know it. She’s bummed, but she’s like “why don’t you just meet me after your shoot and we can still have drinks” but I don’t know how late it’s going to go and she’s way out of my league anyway and probably doesn’t actually want to have drinks or see the Brontosaurus egg but is just being nice because she’s a good person on top of everything else so I apologize profusely and decline. She’s cool about it. Too cool. SHE’S TOO COOL. Anyway, she makes me promise that I’ll come down to San Diego to see her. Laughing, 100% not believing that she’s serious and still wants to see me, I say “Sure. Sounds good”.

But she was serious. She wants me to come down and see her. 

So we pick a day that works. It’s a Saturday. I’m pretty nervous because this woman is literally out of my dreams but goddamn it man we have to at least TRY to not die alone right so I buy a ticket. 

The night before I’m supposed to go, my friend Sona has a holiday party at her apartment. It’s really fun, but I have a very early train to take the next morning to go and visit my probable soulmate so I’m keeping the drinking light. But then two very bad things happen:

1.) Sona makes her infamous Death Punch.

2.) My ex-girlfriend shows up to the party.

It’s a small party. My ex is The Worst. I start drinking heavily. 

My ex and I start talking. More death punch. I am really, really, REALLY trying to not be an asshole, but fuck man, I’m only human and I end up saying a lot of bad shit to her face. I drink even more death punch, get in a parting shot at my ex (I’m pretty sure it was something about her looking like Tom Petty) and Uber home.

I wake up the next morning to my cellphone ringing. It’s my soulmate.

“Hey! What time is your train getting in?”

I look around at my bedroom. All the lights are on. I’m fully clothed. My shoes are on. 

Shit.

I tell her that I got too drunk the night before, and that I’m not coming. She’s like “are you serious?” And I try to make a joke but internally I am screaming at myself WHY. AM. I. SUCH. A. FUCK. UP.

Feeling worse than I possibly have ever felt IN MY LIFE, I promise this girl that I will come down and see her soon. Then I text my ex and apologize for the things I said. To her credit, she’s gracious about it. I want to light myself on fire.

A week passes, and my soulmate and I text back and forth. She’s still talking to me for some reason and we figure out another time for me to come down to San Diego to see her. We pick a Saturday. I buy my ticket. This time, to make sure I don’t miss my train, instead of going out I stay home and spend the night imagining my ex doing bong hits onstage while singing “Free Falling”. It only sort of cheers me up.

The next day, I finally get my dumb ass on the train.

If you’ve never taken the train from Los Angeles to San Diego, I cannot recommend it enough. It’s called the Pacific Surfliner and for two and a half hours, it runs right along the most gorgeous coastline and bluest goddamn ocean you’ll ever lay your eyes on. I’ve only got about a half hour left when the thought hits me: “Wait, what the fuck am I doing?”

I barely know this girl. She’s way out of my league. I’m a sad old man with a sack of old jokes and two sleeves full of rubbery muscles. How could this girl possibly want to talk to me? What if she really was just being nice? Maybe I’ve read this all wrong and she just wants work advice. Yeah. That’s probably it. I mean, what else would we even talk about? What are we going to DO?! Shit! I haven’t planned a fucking thing! Should I make a dinner reservation?! Fuck! Should I have spent these last two hours researching cool shops and museums?! What if I miss my train back?! What then?! WHY DIDN’T WE PLAN AHEAD!? GODDAMN IT, BLEYAERT! and on and on and on ad nauseum.

I get so nervous that I eat all four protein bars that I brought in case of an emergency which I guess works out because this is absolutely an emergency but then my breath smells like a protein bar trash fire so I put like nine pieces of gum in my mouth and start chewing furiously. 

Then, of course, I’m there.

I get off the train, and immediately it’s hot. I peel off my sweaty jacket, and text her. She picks me up in her nice car. It’s an Audi. I drive a dusty Jeep Wrangler. Fuck.

I get in, and she smiles. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it! Welcome to San Diego!!” She goes in for a hug, and I kind of go to hug her back but I’ve already put on my seatbelt because you know like safety first and so I kind of motion to hug her but I don’t quite get there and it’s awkward. We start driving and she puts down the windows and her hair in the breeze looks like a shampoo commercial and she’s laughing and I’m laughing and we’re both laughing and I look outside at the passing trees and wonder to myself how fast we need to get up to before I can be certain that throwing myself out of the car would mean instant death.

She asks me some questions, but I’ve got all this fucking gum in my mouth and there’s like, SO MUCH saliva going on, so I take it out of my mouth and go to quickly throw it out the window before she can see but I can’t find the window thing and she looks over and goes “whoops! I’ve got it” and then I throw it out the window praying it doesn’t fly into the backseat and I gulp down all the saliva and it’s quiet in the car for a few seconds and then she’s like “wow that was a lot of gum” and I mumble something about all the protein bars I ate and reach for the radio.

She takes me to her favorite taco place, and I get some real food in me and I manage to start acting like a human being. She’s great. I mean, really really great. It’s like the whole non-hug lots of gum/saliva thing never even happened. She’s super ambitious, just like me, so the convo is effortless. We finish up, and before I can even confess that I have nothing planned, she offers up a bunch of things to do! I choose a winery, because I’ve never been. She smiles. “Ooooh. I’m going to get you soooo drunk.” I smile back. “Challenge accepted.”

The next 5 hours are amazing. We’re drinking and talking and laughing and sitting outside looking out over these incredible rolling hills as the sun sets. We talk about everything - even getting into some dark emotional shit. I am completely enthralled. I haven’t felt this way in a long long time. It’s incredible. Suddenly, her face turns serious. She looks at me in the fading light, her soft eyes studying mine. “Can I show you something?”

We drive for a little bit. I ask her what kind of music she wants to hear, and she plays me her favorite new song. It’s some bad ass trap music. Could this girl be any cooler? We turn up this winding road that ends at a small park at the top of this mountain with a big white cross on it. It’s fully dark now, and all of San Diego is lit up before us, stretching out down below as far as the eye can see. It’s beautiful.

It’s windy and a little cold, so she takes my arm and  pulls me close, nestling her head in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. Her hair smells amazing. She points out all the landmarks among the lights down below. 

“There’s the ocean. Annnd there’s where I live. And those lights way over there are Mexico.”

It feels like we’re in a movie. We’re quiet, just enjoying the moment. My heart is beating a thousand times a minute. It’s time to make a move.

“So… Is this like, the ‘lover’s lane’ of San Diego?” I ask.

“Yes.” She says.

“This is where you bring guys to make out?” I ask, smiling.

“Yes.” She looks up at me, smiling. The lights of San Diego twinkle in her eyes.

“We’re lucky it’s dark, then. Darkness favors my looks.” She laughs. 

We stare out at the twinkling lights below. 

I do nothing.

After a few minutes, I say “Man, it’s kind of cold up here. Are you cold?” She shakes her head no. The wind whips around us, delighted at my cowardice. She puts her head back on my shoulder and holds me tighter.

We go back to the car anyway.

Later, driving back down the hill, I ask her what kind of music she wants to hear. She says to put on whatever I want. 

I make my train with plenty of time to spare.

[juliebeanbook]

one: when the morning comes I will be alright

It was the sexiest apartment anyone had ever lived in. Andy had given it this title, and the title would stick. For years after, whenever I thought about my first apartment, I referred to it (sometimes in my mind, sometimes out loud) as the “sexy apartment.”

There was actually nothing particularly sexy about the apartment. It had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room that had just enough space to fit a kitchenette and a couch. (The building that contained the sexy apartment was called Maplebrook Manor. Andy and I agreed that the name sounded like an old folks home.) Andy, however, was determined from the start to make this apartment a place fit for the “most goddamned beautiful women to ever attend Birkett Uni.”

Andy had a habit of making superlatives out of everything. The grilled cheese she had for lunch was the best dairy-based sandwich anyone had ever made; the chick flick she just saw was the saddest thing she would ever experience. After living with Andy for an entire year already, I had gotten used to it.

Moving day involved a surprising amount of boxes. Our first year at Birkett, our dorm room had become accumulated with various unnecessaries, but I hadn’t realized just how much crap had actually survived the move. Andy’s boyfriend Dex came to help, and the three of us lugged box after box from Dex’s pickup truck up six flights of stairs, since the elevator was out of order. A fellow resident that we passed when making the tenth trip up informed us that he’d been living there for two years and the elevator had been out of order the entire time.

When the last box had made its way up, as well as all the furniture, Andy, Dex, and I collapsed onto the sagging floral couch. “How many times do you think we went up and down those steps?” Andy wondered.

I closed my eyes. “Fifty?” I ballparked.

“One hundred,” Dex said decisively, reaching in his pocket for his cell phone. “I’m ordering Chinese.”

“I like that plan,” Andy said. “Order, like, a gazillion spring rolls.”

“Okay, Andy,” Dex said. “I’ll order a gazillion spring rolls from Golden Queen. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Andy punched him in the arm.

I stretched out on the couch with my legs over Andy’s and my feet on Dex’s knees as Andy perused the laminated Golden Queen menu card. We used to order from the Hong Kong Chinese Palace, but one bad experience with chicken balls prompted us to seek our Asian food fix elsewhere.

“Is the TV working?” I wondered out loud as Dex waited for the restaurant to pick up.

“Jules,” Dex said, “why would the TV be working? It’s not even plugged in.”

“Oh,” I said. Dex laughed. Andy didn’t respond. She was focusing.

“Hello?” Dex said suddenly.

“Hi,” I said.

Dex flipped me off.

“Yeah, I’d like…” he paused while Andy pointed out the items she’d picked. “Two orders of kung pao chicken, one beef stir-fry, two orders of chicken balls, three orders of sticky rice, and some spring rolls.” He looked at Andy with a question face, and Andy gave him a toothy grin. “A gazillion.”

Andy and I lost it.

Dex was trying not to crack up as he switched the phone to his other ear. “You can’t give me a gazillion spring rolls? No? Well then, yeah, twenty is fine.”

As Dex hung up, the two of us were still laughing. “Only twenty?” Andy cried, wiping tears off her cheeks. “That’s all you could get? That’s not even close to a gazillion.”

Dex shook his head. “I don’t know, guys. I don’t think Golden Queen is doing it for me. Only twenty spring rolls…this is injustice. I think the search for the best Chinese restaurant in the city will continue.”

There may not have been a gazillion spring rolls, but twenty was almost enough. Andy and I ate Chinese food with Dex on the floor of our sexy apartment that night and felt like Golden Queens.

/ / 

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Bohemian Rhapsody startled me into half-consciousness. My hand scrambled across an unfamiliar table, eyes still closed, and grabbed my phone. Squinting at the screen, I saw a picture of Andy’s face (one of her unattractive selfies that she’d once filled my phone with).

I groaned and stumbled out of the bed, my feet twisting in my dress crumpled on the floor. I picked up a big T-shirt from its home on the back of a desk chair and tugged it over my head so that I felt a little less naked as I crouched out in the hall.

“Hello?” I whispered.

“Julie? Where the hell are you? I thought you were dead!”

“Andy, I’m not dead –”

“No, like, I actually thought you were dead. Like I really thought –”

“Yeah, Andy, I know.”

“So where are you right now? Slash where have you been since like all night last night?”

“Um…” I looked around. I was sitting on some stained beige carpet in a strange apartment. I didn’t actually recognize my surroundings at all. I peeked back around the bedroom door, and there was Ben, still deep in sleep. Him, I recognized. “Well. Technically I don’t know exactly where I am. But last night I went home with this guy…”

“Um, sorry, who is this? I’m going to need you to put me back on the line with Julie Bean please.”

“Andy…”

“I don’t know who you are, but Julie Bean doesn’t do one night stands.”

“Andy…”

“And I quote, ‘I want to get to know guys, Andrea! How am I supposed to even know a guy at all after one trashy night in a club? Like, eww. What if he murders me? What if I willingly go home with some guy who, I don’t know, collects small figurines of cats in clothing?’”

“Andy, for Gods’ sake, I did not say that.”

“You one hundred percent did, I wrote it down, I’m not lying and you need to give me enough details that I could picture your night, like, in my head –”

“Oh my god, eww.”

“–but first get dressed and come home, kay? We need to finish unpacking, and I’m not physically fit enough to do it all by myself.”

“How do you know I’m not dressed?”

“Just put some pants on, Julie, and come home.”

I hung up and slunk back into the room. The curtains were still drawn, and the morning light filtered dimly through the brown drapes. I dropped to my knees and collected my various pieces of clothing that were scattered across the carpet. I cringed as I pulled last night’s dress back on; it reeked of smoke. Did Ben smoke? I couldn’t remember.

The night before, Andy and I had gone out with a couple of our friends for one last party before they left to go back home, as her and I were some of the only ones sticking around the city for the summer. It had been at a really nice house downtown, a friend of a friend of Renee’s (a childhood friend who’d followed me to Birkett); unfortunately, no one had really appreciated the upscale décor, the hardwood floors and heavy velvet drapes overpowered by the pull of pulsing lights and booming bass. Somewhere in between trying a mysterious fruity drink Andy had made for me and joining some strangers in an 80s jam sesh, I’d met a criminally cute guy with adorably rumpled hair. I couldn’t be sure that I had made out with him in the laundry room, but I couldn’t rule it out.

The light was too bright as I left his apartment, finding myself about ten blocks from Maplebrook. I glanced down at my god-awful heels (correction: Andy’s god-awful heels; I only ever borrowed hers). Why the hell did I think four-inch heels were a good idea at any level? I grimaced as the tips pinched my toes, sharp pain each time I took a step.

I stopped by the Moonlight Cafe to pick up some breakfast for Andy and I, my desire to get home being overpowered by my desire for pastry and caffeine. Maplebrook was just around the corner. I knew that living in such close proximity to a place with such great coffee and sugary items was going to end up being a really bad thing eventually, but for now I loved the convenience.

“Hey Andy,” I shouted into the apartment once I’d scaled all six flights of cursed stairs. “I brought Danishes and coffee!”

Andy appeared suddenly from the kitchen, grabbing me in a hug. “Ahh, Jules, have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Yes,” I said, “and you’re welcome for breakfast.”

Andy giggled and took the bag from me. “Let’s eat it on the balcony,” she said. “I put the loveseat out there!”

“Andy, no. It’s going to get wet when it rains, that’s a really dumb idea.”

“It is not, there’s a roof over the balcony. Just come sit with me and stop being so crotchety.”

It was admittedly comfortable, out on the old leather loveseat that took up the entire balcony. I licked cherry filling and icing sugar off my fingers and told Andy about Ben, including as many of the (admittedly few) details as I could remember.

“Julie, Julie, Julie,” Andy said, shaking her head. “That sounds amazing. So, are you going to see him again?”

I shrugged. “I left my number for him.”

She grinned, blueberry filling on her lips. “That’s my girl. It’ll work out. Hey,” she said, tapping my knee until her mouth wasn’t full anymore, “I meant to ask you. Dex’s band is playing this Friday at the Moonlight, and he’s wondering if you wanted to come in and play as a guest star. I’m pretty sure it’s because they have a shitty setlist this week and they need to fill up their time slot, but whatever, it’s a gig, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess. I haven’t really been working on anything lately…”

“Oh, I’m sure you can come up with something. Do one of the songs from that guy and his sons or whatever.”

“Mumford and Sons. You’re talking about Mumford and Sons.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Anyway, are you in?”

The city underneath us was waking up. Six stories below, cars drove lazily down the road, someone called out to someone across the street, a car horn honked in annoyance. I rested my feet on the railing, legs slightly stubbly, feet still clad in last night’s heels. I felt vaguely sore and stretched-out. I told Andy I would do it, because in that moment I felt good; maybe it was leftover endorphins from sex, or the fresh morning air filling my lungs up full, or maybe the Moonlight’s Danishes were just straight-up magic.

[erinelezabeth920]

Epilogue: Galapagos

Ha, thought you were done with me eh? In the spirit of epilogues, I’ll try to be brief, but hey it’s unlikely. This blog was really just an exercise in trying to document a crazy fast, once in a lifetime experience that could slip by in the blink of an eye. Tears in the rain, via Roy Batty via Blade Runner. The writing wasn’t stellar. There were typos and shitty internet. But hey. I did it. It’s there and that can never go away. And it really helped me to imagine (even if it was only imaginary) that there were people on the other side. So if you’ve made it this far, really. Really. Thank you.

***

I got picked up from Monica’s at 5:30 am. Chelsea, Mayra and I rode to the airport. After paying the Galapagos visa fee and some booking kerfuffles, I got on the flight first to Guayaquil, then Isla Baltra. Landing on the island was cool; windswept with cacti, surrounded by water. I had an issue paying the 100$ Parque entrance fee, as I didn’t know it couldn’t be card and the airport ATM was out of cash. The airport folks held on to my passport, saying to pick it up in the town when I had my money. Seemed questionable but what can you do.

I took a bus, boat and another bus from the airport to a crossing to another island, and down a windy road on that island to a town. We passed farms and mostly empty green space. Luckily the bus dropped me off right in front of my hostel. Cool.

The town was neat. A mix of locals and tourists with markets and ceviche places. I took a nap, found some ceviche, walked to the docks and watched a movie. I was dead tired. The next morning I rented a bike, went to the Darwin Research center, and tracked down my passport. I had dinner with my friend Jenna from the program who was also traveling.

The day after I slept late again, picked up my laundry and biked/ walked to a beach. I met Mayra and Chelsea there. We sat for a bit staring at the waves and discussing the program. We met later that night for dinner and ended up at the only bar in town chatting up locals. They reminded me of my friends from Orcas Island. When in Galapagos?

The next day I shelled out some of my dwindling money for a snorkeling trip. The seas were rough and it was cold, but we saw seals, sharks, fish, rays and the most beautiful sea turtles. The folks on the trip were funny too. Two german girls who were very sick convinced the recent college grad from UCLA to tell stories about his past 10 months in Ecuador the whole time as a distraction. Surprisingly it worked.

I grabbed dinner with Mayra and Chelsea again, but was too tired to stay out. I met them for lunch the next day, where they had talked up the waiter and were getting free drinks. #blondeprivelage

After that I caught a boat from the dock to another island, Isabella. I had left the majority of my stuff at the hostel as I’d be returning in three nights. The ride was bumpy, two hours long and terrible. I had to pay a 10$ “docking fee”, whatever that is.

I spent three nights on Isla Isabella. It was beautiful but kind of a tough time as I didn’t bring enough cash. As a result I was hungry a lot and kind of lonely, a little over traveling. Which is a crazy feeling to have in the Galapagos but travel is not all sexy photos and cool stuff, regardless where you are. I’d argue islands make you more lonely. Andy and Emily were off backpacking the Enchantments, one of the most beautiful places in Washington, and Andy was heading to a wedding on a lovely island outside of Seattle after. I was homesick and spent a lot of time waiting for instagram stories to load on the low quality internet.

There were highlights though. A hike to a volcanic crater where the guide (in Spanish) told us about growing up on the island, how the culture was changing with more tourism (white specifically) and less Spanish. I didn’t understand everything, but enough to figure out he conveniently left that part out to the English speaking Canadian contingency of the tour.

Another fun part was that my friends Jenna and Audrey from the program were around. We’d get dinner and talk about our days, other travels and all the things. I said bye to them Friday night. Mayra and Chelsea had left the day before from another island, so it was just me.

Another day I went kayaking and snorkeling. There was a beautiful German man paddling in a double with me who I was better than. My two German friends from the snorkeling trip were also there, looking much less sick. It was a blast. We saw penguins on the rocks, seals, a sharks and a turtle. I loved just sliding off the kayak right into the water. After that, I walked the length of the beach to the end, where a gravel road travelled up into some mangroves. At the end of the road was a cool rock wall waterfall thing but it was a ways and getting dark, so I climbed up a lookout instead. It was beautiful.

The next day I left Isabella at 3pm. I saw my German friends on the beach who were taking surf lessons and invited me, but I didn’t have the money. My phone charger and watch had also both died that day, and I kept having to ask strangers what time it was.

The ride back was 100x better, probably because of the sea sickness pill Jenna had given me. I checked back into the hostel, grabbed my things, and got some food. Seafood pasta which wasn’t that good. Should’ve gotten the ceviche and michelada, the always wise words of Erin forever in my head. Push that comfort zone.

The night was pretty. I said bye to the salt air and the ice cream and the seals sleeping on the bench, but I was tired and running out of money and pretty ready to go. The next morning I misunderstood the timing for the bus and had to take a 25$ taxi to the dock. It ended up being ok though because the driver was really nice, told me about living on a farm on the island and how he hates the rain (it was raining). Plus, on the side of the road, just munching on some leaves, I finally saw a tortoise in the wild.

So began my 24 hour journey from Galapagos to Boston with a taxi, boat, bus, plane, plane, plane, plane. There was another docking fee for the airport and I was so fed up with upcharges by that point, I only had 4$ cash and made them take it.

I saw my German friends at the airport again. Funny how traveling does that. Back in Quito I ate onion rings and a milkshake which made my stomach hurt, but my American self couldn’t resist. In Miami, I kept speaking Spanish because why not, until the baggage claim had issues and I thought I’d miss my flight to Boston through customs. I would’ve had an actual meltdown. I had very little left at that point. Luckily it was fixed and I got to the gate just in time, arriving in Boston at 10am. After confusing texts, because Boston is always confusing, I met Andy at the baggage claim. We went straight to Dunkin Donuts, as I’d barely eaten since Quito,and sat on a bench outside the airport in the hot muggy air, waiting for our Air Bnb to open up before we took the train into the city. I watched the Red Sox and Patriots hats go by, and held my iced coffee like a diamond. I talked and talked and talked, finally in person without the internet delay. And Andy smiled and listened and commented supportively. And occasionally hugged me to remember I was real, and we were happy.

We spent the next week with family and friends in Boston and Rockport Mass, and I was happy floating with comfort, family, good food, someone to sleep next to. I saw old friends in Boston, and a Seattle friend moving to Norway. My stomach didn’t hurt and my brother and his girlfriend came up from New York. We went sailing, drank wine with my aunts and uncles, did puzzles and played Euchre, ate lobster and it was maybe the happiest week of my life. Nothing like leaving to make you appreciate the things you love most.

Then, 5 days later we dropped off Colin, Lian and Andy at the airport and bus station in Boston in a rainstorm. My dad and dog and I drove back to Rochester. That’s where some of the post travel depression set in. In reverse culture shock phases there’s the honeymoon followed by the lull, the reaclimation. I didn’t sleep well, slept late in the mornings. I visited grandparents in nursing homes which is always hard when you never know which time is the last goodbye. Plus I think, regardless of travel or not, childhood homes as an adult are always hard, a strange mix of feelings.

On the plus side I had fresh peaches, good Italian food and cut all my hair off. I hung out with my parents, driving around looking at smaller houses they should move in to, knowing they’re happy where they are. The last night I went with my dad to race our sailboat on Lake Ontario. There was strong wind and I sat in the front, watching the sun set. We got first place, the same boat my grandparents raced 30 years before. I dove into the water and let it rock me, the original water as I spent the first two years of my life in a little house on Lake Ontario, carried in the waves in my mother’s arms before I could walk.

The sun set. The crescent moon rose. The crickets chirped. That heavy almost midwestern summer night. The men sat on the porch and talked about the race. I drank a Molson Canadian and flipped the sausages. I was flying out to Seattle in the morning. I took a breath and looked around, letting it seep in. This was home, deep and rooted as the heart on the sail of our boat. We can travel the world in wide circles, as far as we want but those strings, invisible strings will always ground us and root us to the earth, a small piece in the puzzle, branch of the tree of our family, ancestors and the bodily feel alignment, relaxing into your deepest, original self.

Until next time my friends.

Always in adventure,

Erin