#and the sunny summer weather is kind of ruining the mood

[ohmytyong]

serein

⤹ now playing: sunny days by wave to earth

PAIRING: boyfriend!haechan x female!reader

GENRE: fluff !!

WARNINGS: mentions of food, pet names (love), explicit language (shit)

WC: 0,9k

A/N: happy birthday to the loveliest boy<3

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

the droplets of rain pattered on the double-glass window like dog paws on a wooden floor. it was the ripe beginning of summer, yet the weather felt particularly capricious today.

june didn't feel like june, you thought, as your arm hair raised with a sudden shiver that passed through your body, which was caused by a customer who opened the door to the convenience store, letting the rainy wind follow him as the door closed behind him with force. you hugged your body, trying to stay warm in your boyfriend haechan's mahogany varsity jacket. he had noticed your shiverings earlier during your walk at the beach, and he insisted on giving it to you. you argued, saying that he needs to stay warm too, but you were smart enough not to keep on arguing with him because, at the end of the day, he always won.

"so, buldak ramen?" haechan asked with his back turned to you, as he tilted his head to the side to take a peek at your confirmation. "always" you answered and he smirked with a tiny nod. he placed your order inside the basket he was holding and continued roaming in the aisles in an attempt to create a full meal out of instant ramen and other pre-packaged food.

the activities you had planned for the day didn't turn out the way you wanted; the two of were meant to go on a picnic date at the beach and stay out until later just to watch the sunset. your date began like this indeed, with a walk along the beach, yet the moment your laid your blanket on the sand, the first rain droplets started to fall.

haechan didn't mind this change of plans; you, however, sulked and pouted all the way back because your beautiful date idea was ruined. the beginning of summer was also ruined, and above that, your boyfriend's birthday was ruined.

haechan's spontaneous personality as always managed to save the day. he took you by your hand and held you all the way back to the city until he stopped at the first convenience store you found on your way. "let's grab something to eat. we can still get a view of the beach here if we sit by the front window" he said.

so you sat down at one of the stools on the tall tables by the window, waiting for haechan to finish paying for your food. you insisted on treating him as an early birthday gift, but he whined and fussed about it. "what kind of gentleman am i if i don't treat my girlfriend to some dinner?" he said. he won once again.

you didn't have to turn around to see him taking a seat next to you. his warm aura, his scent similar to the fresh air that engulfs the atmosphere on the first morning of summer was enough to make his presence known. he had already prepared your food. he placed the ramen cups on the table and slid yours in front of you, handing you a pair of chopsticks afterwards.

"did you enjoy our time together today?" he asked you as he munched on his food. you shrugged. "i did, haechan, but our date was ruined."

your boyfriend rolled his honey eyes playfully at you and nudged your shoulder. "oh, come on now," he dragged each syllable in an annoying manner, "we can do the picnic another time. you always focus on all those trivial things and let them ruin your mood. just the fact that i spent time with you today is enough for me," haechan said as he squeezed your cheek, dragging it upwards in an attempt to turn your frowny grimace into a smile.

"you're too positive, you know?" you said, taking his hand in your lap to play with his fingers. "aren't you mad we missed the sunset?"

haechan took control of your hand, playing with your fingers now. this game always turned into a little fight and kept going on forever until one of you eventually gave up. it would mostly be haechan who would win, as his competitive nature would cheat by tickling your sides with his free hand, making you laugh and lose your grip over him. this time, he decided to remain calm because he tended to be quite shy in public.

"sunsets are beautiful, yes, but we can always see one another time. i'm here, we're together and that's all that matters. that's the only birthday present i need right now, love" he said and you smiled at his words, reminding you that you loved him just for that, the sense of comfort he gave you, the feeling of hope for a bright day ahead.

"now that i'm thinking about it," you started and haechan hummed as he leaned his face closer to yours, "you are way prettier than the sunsets, anyway" you said and he smiled in his widest, brightest grin before he closed the gap between you by pulling you into a loving kiss.

just a few seconds later, haechan pulled back in a hurry, taking large sips of his iced coffee and then wincing at the tingling sensation on his lips.

"how spicy is that buldak shit, jeez" he cried and you couldn't help but laugh at the cuteness of his overreacting, taking a moment to appreciate how lucky you were to have this person in your life.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @hyuckieslove @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab

@matchahyuck @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct @doieslefttoe

@uwuheeseungie

join my taglist !!

[fallingthruspace]

lol it’s really hard to make a spooky island when it’s bright and sunny in-game

[feverflushed]

Here's another VikSickFic because my adoration for this man knows no limits, therefore I need to whump him 🤍

---------------

It wasn't unusual for Piltover to get a few snowy days every year. And when winter hit, it really hit. Frost would lock gears and mechanisms, freeze fountains and streams, make the roads slippery, and ruin Jayce's mood.

The young man absolutely despised winter. He loved sunny, bright, warm days, and those snowy, damp, bleak wintry mornings would always put him in a sour mood and bring back traumatic childhood memories. 

He was already at the lab, sipping his morning coffee with a scowl on his face, looking at the light snowfall outside.

"My next invention will be a device to make summer last all year long, or something like that. This cold makes me want to crawl into bed and never move again"

Sky, on the other side of the lab, hummed softly. The sweet woman didn't really dislike winter, but she knew that annoying Jayce when he was in that mood wasn't a smart move.

"On that note, have you seen Viktor today?" she asked "He's almost never late…You know, I'm worried… with this snow, it mustn't be easy for him to… you know…" She gestured vaguely, and Jayce felt a pang of worry in his gut. 

His colleague, already wobbly and unsteady, must have a terrible time navigating the icy Piltovian streets with his bad leg and cane. He imagined the lanky man losing his footing on an icy patch and cracking his skull on the cobblestone. Jayce shivered and shook his head, trying to suppress the thought.

"Don't worry Sky, Viktor's smart. I'm pretty sure he'll be staying home in bed today. He loves his work, but I bet he's not willing to risk his life to…"

The lab's door creaked open, and a familiar, snow sprinkled head appeared.

"Viktor!"

Sky gasped, running to the man who had just entered the room. His cheek was scraped and  bleeding, and he had an annoyed frown on his handsome face. He was sweaty and out of breath from the walk.

"Viktor! What did you do?"

Jayce jumped off the table he was sitting on, coffee forgotten. He anxiously approached his colleague, trying to assess his condition.

"Why are you here, in this weather? Did you slip? What did you do to yourself?" The taller man gently inspected Viktor's face, while Sky sprinted out of the room to grab the first aid kit.

"I guess you just answered your own question," Viktor sighed, defeated, his accent thicker than usual "The snow was covering a patch of ice. I didn't see it. Walked on it. Slipped and fell." 

Jayce sighed and let the man sit while Sky treated his wound. Normally Viktor would have hated this kind of attention, but he just looked so cold, and tired, and disgruntled. 

Sky gently patched him up while Jayce resumed nursing his cup of coffee. 

"Why didn't you just stay home? Hell, Viktor, navigating Piltover in this weather is dangerous even for us…" Jayce bit his lip as Viktor shot him a venomous glare.

"You know I don't have patience for pity"

Jayce shook his head, knowing that Viktor hated to be treated differently.

"I didn't mean… you know what I meant, Viktor, come on. It's risky. Professor Heimerdinger slipped on ice too just this morning, and he rolled down from the top to the bottom of the stairs. It was a sight to behold."

Viktor finally cracked a tired smile at the thought of their fluffy professor rolling down the Academy's stairway.

More relaxed, he directed his gaze to the blue hextech gem glowing dimly, and he picked up his crutch.

"Well, progress is not going to make itself. Let's get into it."

Viktor stood, slowly making his way to the desk. 

The other two scientists immediately noticed that something was not right. Viktor was limping even more than usual, and pain was very well visible on his face. 

"Uhm… Viktor, did you hurt your leg or back when you fell?"

The brunette turned around, eyes wide. 

"Actually, no. I was more surprised than hurt. I'm okay, really. I didn't get hurt. It's just a bad pain day."

Jayce nodded. Viktor had those frequently. With his body out of whack like that, and that damned cold weather, it wasn't surprising that the man felt so lousy.

Sky put a comforting hand on his back.

"Then take it easy today, Viktor. I must get going, but I'll come back later to check on you, and maybe bring you some sweetmilk. Take breaks today, alright?"

Viktor nodded a silent goodbye and hobbled his way to his seat, getting to work immediately.

Jayce gave him a doubtful look, but followed suit, and for a while, the two worked in silence. 

Viktor coughed from time to time, but Jayce paid no attention to it. He was used to his partner's constant coughing, so this was nothing new. 

What really concerned Jayce was that Viktor was more reluctant than usual to leave his seat.�� When he did, he was in absolute agony, unable to straighten his back and dragging his feet, pain written all over his face. Jayce knew that he had bad days from time to time, but he had never seen him like that.

At lunchtime, he declared that enough was enough. 

"Viktor, please. Go home. You're in no condition to work. Just looking at you makes my joints hurt. Seriously. You belong in a bed, not in a lab". 

The man in question was slumped uncomfortably on the desk, writhing in pain and breathing quickly.

Blaring alarms went off in Jayce's head when the brunette just nodded and picked up his crutch, except that it was evident that that kind of support was not enough. He leaned first against the desk, and then against the wall, trying to support his weight and almost falling over. 

Jayce practically materialised to his side, breaking his fall and forcing him to sit back down on the chair. 

"What's up with you?" He gently grabbed Viktor by the arm to help him sit, and that's when it hit him. The arm in his grip was impossibly hot, despite the cool temperature of the room. And the thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Viktor. This is not a regular pain flare, is it?"

The man didn't respond, he just shook his head, as he coughed into his fist. Jayce was used to his partner's nasty sounding coughs, but this was the worst he'd ever heard from him. Rattling, congested, wheezy.

Jayce palmed his sweaty forehead and neck, hissing at the heat. Viktor's lips were chapped, and his cheeks were fiery red, a stark contrast to his usually ghostly pale complexion. Amber eyes were glassy and unfocused, and Jayce could feel the man's heart working overtime, beating fast and hard under his fingers.

"I need to get a number on this fever of yours, before you combust right here in the lab."

Jayce quickly rummaged through one of the drawers for the thermometer they used in the lab and scanned Viktor's forehead. The device beeped and flashed up an angry red color. It was way past 39 degrees.

"You must be kidding me… you came to the lab with a fever this high? In this damn weather? You can't be serious."

Viktor at that point was shaking so much that he was struggling to sit upright. Delirious tears filled his eyes.

"P… please… it hurts so much… take me home…"

The desperate plea tore Jayce's heart in two. 

He didn't say a word, but he positioned Viktor's crutch under his arm, picking up all his belongings.

Jayce slipped Viktor's arm across his shoulders and gently guided him outside. 

Viktor was extremely light, so it was an easy job for the strong, muscular Talis boy.

He could periodically hear Viktor's moans of pain as he helped him across the Academy. Luckily, Viktor lived on campus, so it was just a ten minute walk, but they had to stop several times. 

"Please… please, let me sit. My legs are killing me," Viktor wheezed as Jayce helped him to the closest bench. The smaller man rubbed his palms over his legs and back, hunched over in pain. A flurry of coughs escaped his lips. It was starting to snow again, and Viktor was so, so cold.

Jayce took off his coat and wrapped it around Viktor's bony shoulders. 

"This sounds like the flu, Vik. I don't like that fever at all."

"It is the flu," the older man rasped "When I get it, the first thing that hurts are my legs and back. I really need some extra pain, don't I?" he coughed hoarsely into his fist. 

"Please Jayce, just… I need to be in bed."

Well, I agree with that, Jayce thought. Viktor looked like he was about to keel over. 

"You can't walk home, can you? Do you want me to carry you on my back?"

Viktor shook his head, but then Jayce noticed it. A single tear rolling down Viktor's cheek.

The man was in pain, terribly so. And probably quite delirious too. So Jayce took the matter into his own hands.

Before Viktor could react, he was already settled on Jayce's back, his partner's broad hands safely gripping the underside of his thighs, firmly enough not to let him slip, but delicate enough not to hurt him.

Viktor hated to be pitied, or even helped, but this time it was just too much. He allowed himself to give up and crash, his burning forehead nestled in the crook of Jayce's neck.

The piggyback ride home (or "the ride of shame", as Viktor would have called it a few days later), was a delirious blur. He just acknowledged the firm presence of his partner, and the next thing he knew he was lying in bed, in unspeakable pain, with Jayce fumbling with heating pads for his sore limbs. 

"There you go," Jayce murmured as the delightful feeling of something warm was applied to Viktor's skin. It felt so heavenly, and Viktor moaned with relief, tentatively arranging pillows around himself to support his sore back and legs. 

"Alright, medicine for you." Jayce half ran to the bathroom, where he knew Viktor kept his stash of medicine. His heart sank a bit at the sight. After Viktor's hospital stay, the shelves were full of all kinds of pills. He looked around for a regular fever reducer and painkiller, and then returned immediately to the bedroom.

Viktor looked very cozy, nestled in pillows and blankets, but he was still shivering and huffing in pain.

"Fever's still on the rise," Jayce thought worriedly. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to coax Viktor out of his blanket nest. Jayce's hand gently patted the smaller man's chestnut curls, until a bony, trembling hand slipped out of the mountain of quilts, grabbed the pills and shoved them through chapped lips before retreating back under the covers at the speed of light.

Jayce held up a glass. "Viktor? Water?"

"N-no…"

"Damn, did you really knock back your pills like they're shots?"

"...used to it…"

Ouch. Why was Jayce even surprised? The man was on an impressive array of medication of all kinds just to function on a daily basis.

His eyes darted across the room, where an IV bag was hanging from a pole. Maybe he could put it in the fridge and start an infusion for Viktor later. It would help his fever, like he had seen the nurses do when his partner was still unconscious in the hospital.

Jayce's big, tanned hand gently massaged Viktor's scalp. Fuck, he was hot. 

"In more than one way," Jayce thought to himself, before slapping himself mentally. He needed to be there for Viktor.

"Vik? I'm going to get something cold for your head. We can't afford to cook that brilliant brain of yours. We still need it."

No reply. Just a light, congested snore from the other scientist.

"Asleep… he's asleep." Jayce slumped in his seat, relieved. He quietly got up and left the room. 

Despite the appearance, Viktor was strong. He would push through one more time.

[vipcridae]

// headcanon time! which season does orochimaru prefer? is there any special significance?

Unprompted Asks // @s-talking

They prefer the summer, overall! Winter has its charms for its wrath and storms, and they enjoy the aspect of chaos and unpredictability that comes with it, but the cold bumps it down on their list. They are incredibly vulnerable to the cold, and not being at their best makes them uneasy. Despite that, they actually enjoy winter aesthetically, they enjoy the snow (from a distance), they appreciate storms and violent weather. The cold and rain, not to mention longer nights, means being in disguise and avoiding being seen is a lot easier. Cloaks are not out of place in the downpour, shadows are all over with the dark weather. There is security in it. For this, winter is second on the list.

Autumn carries a chill with it that also has it being less favourable, more importantly, their relationship with Autumn's association with death/decay plays into it. They are fascinated by death, but also averse to it. Some autumns may be pleasant as they toy with the concept of fast-falling life and change, but others are spent loathing the fact that mortality is such an inescapable trap. Autumn is also when they were born, so it crosses over with their birthday, yet another reminder of their mortal clock. This becomes less of an issue when they gain immortality, but it's hard to shake old thoughts. It is third on their list.

Spring is when they lost their parents, a beautiful day, supposedly a time of birth and new life. Instead, they lost their mother and father. They always loathed the fact that the sky dared to be beautiful, the air warm, the world full of life on the night when they lost their parents. It seemed an insult that everything could be beautiful when they were robbed so terribly. They try to be above that kind of sentimental thinking, but they never truly can appreciate the spring until they finally gain immortality and replace painful old memories of their deceased parents with pleasant new memories of their children. Spring is their least favourite. Summer wins due to its climate. They grew up in Konoha, a sunny and warm landscape. They are accustomed to that and find themself more productive and in a better mood with the warmth to keep them going. They enjoy being outdoors and examining ruins and lost villages, this becomes more possible in merciful weather. They don't get overheated even on boiling days, so there are no real drawbacks for them.

[prose-for-hire]

Cordy the vampire slayer

Cordy and Buffy Bodyswap au

Request: Hi, if you have time could you write a Buffy and Cordelia Body Swap fanfic? Set in the early episodes of Season 2? Giles tells Buffy about a special holiday for slayers, where the slayer can temporarily switch bodies with anyone she chooses and after an argument with Cordy, Buffy accidentally makes her choice. The only problem was that Giles never got to finish telling Buffy how long the switch would last — three months!

Requested by: Anon + @archiefan23​ 

A/N: Just a little warning that Cordy kisses Angel as Buffy at one point. I really enjoyed this one !! Sorry it took so long to post love 💖

It was late morning. But the heat was rising by the minute. It was the kind of sunny day that held a multitude of possibilities. The temperature in the high school library was warmer still, but not uncomfortably so. It surrounded them in a glow that marked the beginning of summer. The kind of summer they hoped would spell demons and the like taking the same long break to sunbathe as they wished to.

Giles was in his usual suit, he wore his old faithful no matter the weather. The others figured there must be some kind of magic, breathable material tailored to him as otherwise he would be sweating buckets.

Xander, Buffy and Cordelia were waiting for Willow to arrive as Giles paced, figuring out how exactly to begin his speech without boring the teenagers to death. Unfortunately, this particular battle was one that would never be won.

Willow arrived, apologising and rushing to sit beside Xander giving him a bright smile. Giles nodded at her before turning to reveal

Giles sets the green, jagged stone in the centre of the table. Everyone just stared. It had begun to glow. The first time in a few decades.

“In every generation-”

“Oh I know this one!”

“-Yeah, there is a chosen one, yada yada-”

“No, well – yes. But, that was not what I was explaining. It is good, however, that you do actually heed what I tell you”

“God, Giles, nobody can forget it”

“I have dreams of that speech” Willow agreed.

“Nightmares” Xander added, shuddering.

“Yes, well, moving on from that enthused rally of support – in every generation there is a moment in the Slayer’s life where her consciousness may switch with that of a human. It is tradition that this would allow her to hone her skill and-”

“Well, I’m sold” Buffy shrugged, thinking of all of the free time she could have.

“-It was, ah, a vacation in some way and in others it was a sentence upon the woman that she swapped forms with”

“A sentence? Like, she had to write a paper on being a Slayer for the day? That’s horrible” Cordy said as Willow and Xander rolled their eyes at each other.

“Well, no – no nothing like this. The woman would endure being the slayer and survive unscathed would walk on the path of the righteous. She could be mythologised depending on how well she adapts to the gift”

“Yeah, like it could even be that hard!” Cordelia immediately scoffed whilst filing her nails.

“You wouldn’t last a minute, Cor”

“Oh yeah? Try me. I could slay twice as good as you!” she insisted indignantly, her hands on her hips.

“Yeah but Buffy would still get all the credit – you would be operating her body like some kind of whacky sci-fi feature” Xander added which made Cordy consider it. But, nonetheless she snatched up the stone and gestured for Buffy to do the same.

“Well, like, we would all know”

Buffy was pleased, mostly she wanted to have the day off. She thought Cordy had a pretty sweet gig. She was popular, athletic and people seemed to respect her. Plus she had seen the barista in the local coffee shop always gave her free Frappuccino’s.

So, they agreed. Giles asked several times if they were sure and they both raised an eyebrow and tried to get him to hurry up. Cordy decided she could track Devon down and show him exactly what he deserved for ignoring her for so long.

Giles put his hands over theirs who were clasped around the stone, palms glowing green as he recited the ancient rites. They stared at each other, their own bodies and facial expressions looked almost alien. It was really strange and Buffy couldn’t stop staring down at Cordy’s hands that were now hers.

The bell went and everyone went their separate ways. This could be fun, both thought at the exact same time. Cordy and Buffy couldn’t stop beaming for the entire day. They were really enjoying the swap. Cordelia would even write a paper on her day she was in such a good mood.

Cordy immediately skipped her morning classes and went to the beauty salon, to try and do something about Buffy’s hair and nightmare she called nailbeds. She was doing the girl a favour and it relaxed her anyway.

She found Devon and flipped him over her head with ease, warning him to call Cordelia back which he insisted he would and scrambled away. She dusted her hands off and put her hands on her hips proudly.

Buffy on the other hand went to all of Cordelia’s classes with little to think about other than whether that hot guy at the back was staring at her. She could just sit there with little expectation of her and enjoy it. She didn’t have to think about anything and it was really fun. She didn’t even mind sitting for Harmony for half an hour discussing the merits of a new hair serum.

It was going well. That first day was the easiest one and they were both convinced the other had it easy still. That was, until the revelation Giles was about to bestow on them. It was the end of the day and both met at the Library at the end of the day.

They returned to Giles in order to switch back. They just presumed this holiday was for a day before they were allowed to turn back. When they said this, Giles had to break it to them. Giles squinted, realising he hadn’t explained properly. They would be doing this for three months. At this revelation both of them began speaking over each other in their horror.

“That’s not a vacation, that’s squatting! This is a human rights violation, she should be paying rent to be living in there” Cordelia, from inside Buffy’s body, screeched.

“You should call your lawyer. Oh, wait – is he my lawyer now?” Buffy asked, deep in thought.

“Perhaps, uh, this will prove a pivotal part of understanding the other’s-”

“Oh my God! This is so not happening!” Cordelia spoke over Giles’ probably very profound explanation and instead stormed away.

She got in her car and started to drive towards her house, realising that she couldn’t go home. She scowled and reversed, driving to Revello Drive and tried to figure out which of the tiny box rooms was hers.

Buffy stayed with Giles and tried to see if there was a quick fix, but there was honestly nothing that he could do. He offered to drive her to Cordelia’s house and insisted that he would be there for her and Cordelia for the next few months.

The first month:

It had been a struggle. Neither of them were communicating much and Gies had insisted that the slayer still had to

It was ruining Cordy’s social life (not that she was convinced that Buffy had one anyway). She turned up to school after being driven by Joyce which she found kind of embarrassing but again, didn’t really mind seeing as nobody would know it was her.

Buffy’s arm was in a sling as she walked through the corridors. Cordelia had been trying to slay the night before and had fallen awkwardly onto her arm. No thanks to the real Buffy, who hadn’t come to help her.

As she was passed by herself, she reached and clasped her good hand around her wrist and pulled her with her. She tried to struggle but her new superstrength gave her the upper hand.

“Bathroom. Now!” Cordy squinted at herself and pulled Buffy with her again when she didn’t move of her own accord. Cordelia checked that the bathroom was empty before rounding on her.

“You know… if that happened last night your arm should be healed. Benefit of the slayer deal” Buffy offered before she could open her mouth, still trying to get used to navigating Cordelia’s body.

“Oh, yeah, I know - it’s fine. I just wanted a little sympathy but everyone kinda ignores you in the halls, huh?” she muttered, taking the sling from her shoulder and trashing it.

“Well-”

“Not the point! Where were you last night?! There was a vampire and it was like he knew every punch I was gonna throw!”

“How rude of him”

“I know!” Cordy agreed before stopping, realising Buffy wasn’t actually as invested as she was.

It was weird to Buffy how easily she had slid into being the popular girl again but it was a complete breath of relief. As if the entire world had been removed from her shoulders. She felt so much lighter.

“Ugh, just ‘cause you’re so boring and take slaying so seriously and vampires are like obsessed with you doesn’t mean that you have to be such a bitch!”

“I’m a bitch? You’re the queen of b-”

“You’re so gonna regret this, Buffy, I could make your high school career a living hell! Worse than any Hellmouth-!”

“Do you know what? I’m Cordelia Chase – I don’t take crap from anyone! Have a nice slay, oh, I mean day!” Buffy smiled overly sweetly before walking away. Cordy screamed in frustration, slamming her hand against a bathroom stall and ending up punching her entire fist through it in her frustration. Leaving her screaming again, but this time the door took the brunt of her annoyance.

After their exchange in the bathroom, both women decided they were going to make the most of the swap. By messing with the other and their lives. They were set on annoying the other just like they annoyed them.

Both ended up bickering more than usual if they ever saw passed each other. They started to say things or do things slightly out of character to annoy the person whose real life it was. This carried on for a few weeks. Cordelia started to show her strength more obviously, making more and more people question Buffy. Buffy started to pretend she couldn’t pick up even the easiest part of choreography for cheerleading.

Then, one day something happened that Cordelia saw as the final straw. Buffy walked in, as Cordelia, with her hair in a complete mess. She didn’t style Cordy’s hair and walked around all day with a birds nest. Cordy grabs her and tries to style it out, attacking her with a hair brush.

“Does my face really do that when I’m annoyed?”

“All the time” She replied, rolling her eyes. She tried to brush her hair again, but it was no use.

“No, I think the style’s really gonna catch on” Cordelia’s own face was smiling infuriatingly back at her. She was horrified. She was sure that she would never live this down. Her hair looked horrific.

“Fine. Then- then I’ll let everyone know I’m a slayer. I’m sure your Mom-”

“Cordelia! You can’t!”

“Then someone will have to discover that a tangle teaser is our friend”

Buffy soon realises that Cordelia means it and eventually gives in, which allows them a tenuous truce from there on in.

Cordelia and Buffy walked back home in the dark together, mostly in silence. They walk side by side until Buffy says goodnight and walks towards Cordelia’s house which would probably be empty when she got there. Cordelia warned her she wasn’t allowed to drive her car, she didn’t trust her.

It suddenly begins to hit each of them though, as they walked their separate ways. That their lives aren’t quite as easy as they expected.

Cordy realised she’s suddenly making all the tough decisions. The responsibility on her shoulders. Everyone automatically looked at her for guidance, to make the decisions – just because she had Buffy’s face. It was actually really hard.

Not to mention, Joyce’s parenting style was almost suffocating to her and Cordelia barely held back her snapping. She wasn’t used to someone asking after her every movement.

Plus, it was absolutely exhausting juggling slaying, sneaking out and pretending to be normal. She didn’t know why Buffy bothered. Because some gross men said so, like years ago? Cordy insisted if she was Buffy she would have quit. But, again, here she was still playing along even for the next few months without refusing to slay.

 Meanwhile, Buffy was feeling how acutely Cordelia’s loneliness appeared to bleed into every aspect of her life. At home, she wasn’t really listened to no matter how rude or loud that she was. Her parents were rarely ever present and when they were it was to give her gifts to make up for all the time they were about to spend away again.

Buffy didn’t enjoy hanging out with Harmony and the rest of Cordy’s friends. None of them seemed to genuinely care about the other. Or share any meaningful bond. In fact, it didn’t seem that they cared for anyone except themselves and as soon as one walked away, they appeared to immediately begin to be rude about the others.

These new realities they have been planted in, these new perspectives gave them both something to think on. But it didn’t take from the fact that they were still so very annoyed with the other.

Month Two:

They had a lot of time to think, while living the other’s life. There was chance to reflect on themselves and the life of the other. In some sense, they were jealous and completely relieved there was an end to this.

The pair had began to bond a little more since the previous month where they were at each other’s throats. There was something about literally living another’s life that made them suddenly bonded together. Even if they didn’t really want to be.

Buffy just tried to avoid Cordy’s friends as much as possible rather than being rude to them. She didn’t want to upset Cordelia’s chance at popularity too much – she was starting to get it now, it was the way that Cordy could feel better about herself.

Towards the end of the second month, Cordelia had got into the swing of slaying by herself since those first rocky weeks. She found herself enjoying the daily exercise routine (she decided she would totally be bringing that back with her when they swapped back).

Cordelia and Buffy had been spending a lot more time together. Cordelia was in her own room – finally. Buffy’s home was a lot smaller, something she called ‘cute’ to her face but Buffy knew what she meant by it.

“When you said have a walk in your shoes, I wasn’t expecting to have to run the vampire-mile in last season’s boots” Cordy huffed, combing through the blonde hair she was still trying to get accustomed to while she looked in the mirror. She was getting angry at it, it was near-impossible to maintain in the way she was used to. Buffy always made it look so pretty. She missed her own brunette hair. She missed the way people would cower as she walked through the halls. She missed not having to

But, she liked that she could relax around the Scoobies and not have to worry about her image, not that she would admit it of course.

“Well, I always wear a heel that has a supportive ankle - y’know, for maximum slayage” Buffy shrugged and smiled, filing her nails in the way that Cordelia usually would. The change was a lot easier for Buffy seeing as this was the life she lived in Emery. It was sort of nostalgic to relive her more carefree years.

“It’s not even that hard, Cordelia. I mean, I don’t know how you hang out with Harmony and those other girls. They’re so shallow and kinda cruel” Buffy held herself back from including Cordy in the kind of girl that was cruel too.

Buffy, despite noticing the drawbacks of Cordy’s life really needed the holiday. She didn’t have any responsibility. She didn’t have to lift a finger at home and she could basically do whatever she liked whenever she liked. Cordelia’s parents barely even saw her.

“But, it never stops! Ever!”

“You’re doing this for what? Another month. You’re doing such a great job – really. Just let me have this last month and then everything goes back to normal”

“That’s easy for you to say! I mean, I have to be the Slayer and what? No soul-having hunk of goodness on my arm!?” Cordelia continued to whine as she got the comb caught in her blonde hair again. She tugged too hard and snapped the object clean in half. She groaned in annoyance. That was the last straw. She huffed and threw the pieces of the comb to the vanity table.

Buffy bit back a smile at Cordy’s overreaction. It was the opposite for her, an inconvenience not to have her strength. She felt weak and had a newfound appreciation for how her friends managed to fight vampires without any powers at their disposal.

However, Cordelia was sick of superstrength and vampire dust that seemed to get everywhere. This gave her an idea that would stay in the back of her mind. Cordy remembered that Angel had been out of town and would be returning for Buffy’s birthday. Interesting.

Buffy looked up, feeling sorry for Cordy. She knew how it felt to be out of your depth and she didn’t have the same kind of support system that Buffy did. Despite Buffy enjoying the freedom she had, she knew that this meant Cordelia wasn’t close with her parents. And her friends were shallow and wholly unsupportive. This realisation is why she offered what she did.

“Cordy? I can help, you know. With the slaying” Buffy offered softly. She was starting to realise she had just left Cordelia to it. Had begun by making her actual life harder too. It made the other woman look over, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would you want to help me?” Cordelia squinted as if she was suspicious, but Buffy just shrugged.

It made each woman think about why they had agreed to swap and what it would mean to work together rather than struggle alone. They nodded at each other, not really sure where they stood with the other.

Month three:

By the third month, both women knew the drill. Buffy would help train Cordelia and provide her with the most knowledge she could about slaying and how to improve. Which, the girl was surprisingly taking in her stride. She had slain three vampires by herself and with a very artistic flourish the night previous.

Cordelia used Buffy’s strength to her advantage spinning into a kick that would have made her overbalance before. She landed a few blows this time before she was thrown into a gravestone. She got up immediately, not allowing herself to stay down. She then charged at the vampire, plunging the stake into his chest leaving him dust in the wind.

She grinned in excitement. It truly was getting easier that slaying gig. She knew she was right – she could totally do it.

“Yeah! Take that, creep!” Cordy shouted at the pile of dust before jumping up and down over how easily she had taken that vamp down.

“Now we just need to work on your puns” Buffy added, her arms crossed as she watched.

“Only people with nothing interesting to say uses puns… oh, and you, obviously” Cordy added with a little shrug. They decided to call it a night and both were only hoping that no apocalypses threatened whilst they were still swapped. She was getting good but still.

During this time, Cordelia had also given Buffy pointers about how to enhance her popularity. To follow the age-old saying ‘Be more Cordy’. She helped her make up with Harmony by buying her something expensive and definitely not apologising to her.

It was still hard and Cordelia was always complaining whilst simultaneously gushing about the work-out routine she was picking up from this swap. She insisted she was going to do a slayer-inspired exercise video and make, like, millions from it which always made Buffy roll her eyes.

Buffy was sitting with her now usual gang of Cordettes hanging around her. She was counting to one hundred mentally in her mind until she would make an excuse and leave them to go to the library. She just hoped that she wouldn’t get seen entering again or face another war of passive-aggression with Harmony. This was one daily battle that she would rather take on an apocalypse over.

“So, what about you and Devon? He’s totally hot” Harmony afforded, “Not as much as my guy, obviously, but some people just have to lower their expectations right?” She smiled sweetly in that way Buffy had now become accustomed to.

“Yeah, Mr invisible sounds totally hot” Buffy quipped, knowing she could at least get away with that. It made the others giggle. Harmony always talking about this mystery guy but nobody had ever seen him.

Buffy sighed as she thought about all of the men she had encountered since she had swapped bodies with Cordy, and what they had propositioned to her at the Bronze. Buffy realised that men tended to try to use Cordelia and then just as quickly begin to ignore her. She does use her looks but she never ends up getting what she wants. She wants a committed relationship, companionship. It made Buffy really sad for her, she finally understood what Cordelia meant about being lonely despite having so many people around her.

She then turns to Harmony and insists, scarily exactly like Cordy would, that he was a total burnout loser with no prospects and even less in his pockets. Total no-go. The way gossip worked at Sunnydale, Devon would be blacklisted by anyone who was anyone by the final bell.

Which, is something she probably wouldn’t have done if she had known what Cordelia was planning to do that evening.

Cordy greeted Angel that evening and he smiled. It was Buffy walking towards him, how could he not smile? Angel opened his mouth to say something but she immediately crashed her lips to his. She kissed urgently, a hint of desperation and need that he would have found nice if it had actually been Buffy kissing him.

He frowned, somehow he could just sense that something wasn’t right. He stilled her, his hands on her upper arm. He pulls back, scanning her face. He squints, not sure if he should say something.

“You’re not…”

“Oh, come on… baby, I’m the slayer and you’re the soulfully good vampire. Let’s- do it” Cordy used her best seductive face, which admittedly worked better with her own features but she worked with what she had.

“Buffy, maybe we should… patrol” angel said, his voice wavered as his forehead furrowed. Something just wasn’t right.

Buffy sighed deeply and rolled her eyes and it reminded him of someone. She turned to leave but he called to her before she did, “Cordelia?” Angel tried and Buffy’s eyes met his immediately.

“How…?”

“You’re not her…” Angel admitted, looking at the floor.

“But I look like her, I’m stuck here with her entire wardrobe! What’s the big?” She sighed, her loneliness bubbling back to the surface. Ashe didn’t know whether to lash out or just cry at the rejection. She was a strong person and yet she was crumbling at the way that even as Buffy who appeared to have everything she couldn’t replicate it the same.

“Love isn’t about looks. Or, how nice your outfits are, which, um – they are pretty” He assured her, trying to soften the blow, “It-it’s something you feel deep inside. Something you know without having to question or second-guess yourself. It’s… her”

Cordy sat on the side of her bed and Angel sat beside her, comforting her. She was upset at this. Nobody had ever felt so deeply for her, she was sure of it. And it stung.

“Why does nobody like me for me? Why do I do everything and still have nobody?”

“You’re a great girl-” Angel started awkwardly, not really sure how to comfort the girl. But at these words, Cordelia suddenly stood up and left, running to Buffy’s house and hiding in her room. Just hiding her tears until she closed Buffy’s bedroom door behind her. She wanted a love story. Why did she feel like a secondary character in her own life?

The next day at school, it was finally the day. The day that Cordelia and Buffy were supposed to swap back.

Angel had explained to Buffy what had happened (although his eye contact was anywhere but her face as he found it weird to be so comfortable talking to Cordy this way). But rather than Buffy flipping out, as she might have done say three months earlier, she realised exactly why Cordy would have tried it on with Angel. Especially so after realising just how lonely it can be living Cordy’s life.

“Cor, I know what happened last night”

“Oh, yeah? What is loser just stamped on my forehead?” Cordy sighed and when she saw the look her own face was giving her she understood. Buffy wasn’t trying to be cruel or laugh at her rejection. She softened slightly, “I’m sorry okay? I am”

“Look, I know we’re not close-”

“And our hair is a very different style and texture” Cordy added without thinking.

“Our slaying abilities are different too” Buffy muttered under her breath and then shook her head at herself. She really was easily sucked into being the popular girl, “We’re not close but we’re a lot more similar than I ever thought. I get it, okay?”

Buffy took Cordelia’s hand in her own and offered her a comforting gesture. So much was left unsaid and yet both felt understood by the other in a way that had never really happened before.

“It’s tough at the top and we’re just both at the top of our worlds” Cordelia nodded along. Buffy’s the slayer of slayers and she slays the rest of the student body to be the most popular. It can be so lonely at the top and both understood the other in a much different way than they ever had before.

Cordy’s words made Buffy smile but she nodded. It was easier for Cordelia to express herself this way. Both of them were glad that they were changing back but they would miss the way that their weird friendship had blossomed through the last three months.

They understood completely now the pressure the other was under. Their points of view. Their lives. They were both hard in their own way. Maintaining Cordelia’s popularity alone was exhausting.

Giles returned to the library, nodding at the pair of them. Telling them that he was proud of the pair of them. Cordelia really had proved herself and Buffy had shown herself as someone who can support others and allow them to learn under her guidance. This admittance made both women gasp, both of them longed for a father figure and Giles saying this made both of them remember this moment for a long time after.

He recited the words, safe in the knowledge that both girls had learnt to work together in the way he had hoped upon his suggestion. Buffy needed to take a step back to have a break to appreciate her gift whilst understanding she had allies she could equally turn to for support.

A green hue lit up the room as their bodies swapped back. There was a final rush of cold air, making them both shiver and instinctually step back from each other.

This was right. Their own body, lives, returned to them. They shared a smile, a small nod of understanding before Buffy launched herself at Cordy. Pulling her into a hug. Both of their eyes were watering, it had been a long past three months.

The girls had never felt close, mostly because they hadn’t really understood the other. Not like this. But now they were sure that they would keep this bond for the rest of their lives.

[itsmoonphobic]

𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 ᯽

✞︎𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅- The piece of ground on which a battle is or was fought,a place or situation of strife and conflict. ⚔

𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 @netherbricknick 's 𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐌 𝐚𝐮?𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 & 𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧!𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐚' 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤!! <3 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ☺︎︎

Summer slowly came to an end and the hot,sticky air outside cooled down to a soothing,chilly breeze.The once green and vibrant colored leaves and moss covered branches dropped their shades to orange and brown ones. Autumn was around the corner and the kingdom's residents bunkered themselves in their houses.Food supplies and herbs to heal their coughing and headaches were stacked in chests and shleves.Marchers and Travelers had a hard time with their jobs.The streets and woodland paths were drowning in piles of leaves so it was hard to drive their carriages through them.

Puffy and dark clouds filled the sky to the brim.Storms could be predicted by the thunder and rain easily getting heavier and more threatening with each passing day.Fall was a hard time for the kingdom, the real threat was indeed their famous frozen winters but autumn was like winters younger,annoying sibling.Making the lives of the inhabitants stressfull and complicated by it's annoying tactics.Then we had the people who actually saw beauty and patience in the hard to deal with season.The type of people who would go outside and jump in mountains of leaves,searching the ground for chestnuts and hazelnuts, admiring the season that represented a painted canvas brought to life by an artist's fantasy.

One of those people was Tommy.The blond haired boy loved nothing more than when the time for autumn arrives.When the world drops into a new color palette.Sure summer and spring was fun,the weather was sunny and warm and most of the creatures came out during those seasons and flowers began to bloom and show their hidden beauty to the world but that was nothing compared to the most gorgeous season Tommy knew.Fall had a special place in the blue eyed boy's heart.He had so many cherishing memories connected to it,so many things he remembers doing with Tubbo and...their parents.

Tommy's icey orbs pooled up with tears as he lazily sat behind his window.His damp breath left behind a trace of fog on the fragile glass,that's how near Tommy's face was. He kept a perplexed gaze,a frown making it's way onto his thin lips that were trembling,not becouse of the cold.His eyes scanned the forest surrounding their village.He would catch a few squirrels and foxes running around the surface. The memory of his parents always hits Tommy hard,Tubbo seemed unaffected by the mention of anything regarding their parents but Tommy reacts in a different way.

The younger twin needed a distraction to get his thoughts away from their deceased caretakers.At times like this Tommy sneaks out,either slyly passing Tubbo by the front door to walk out like a normal person or he climbs out of his window like a monkey.Tommy snickered to himself as he brought back the one time he fell down instead of landing on his feet,he was pretty sure that if someone asked him to show them the big bruise on his right hip he could still present it.Tommy propped himself up on his elbows and hands,throwing one last longing look out the window towards the entrance of the graveyeard and with that he walked out of his and Tubbo's shared bedroom.

As Tommy walked down the corridor towards the kitchen located on the first floor of the house his ears picked up a conversation between Tubbo and by the looks of it either Wilbur or Phil since Fundy wasn't here today.The brown haired babysitter had his own shop he had to take care of and his own responsibilities.Tubbo made sure that Fundy had nothing to worry about and that he and Tommy are capable of surviving on their own.Tommy descended down the stairs and carefully opened the doors to the kitchen, making sure not to jumpscare his easily scared brother.

"Is this too much flour or should I a-Oh!Hey Tommy!" Tubbo stopped midsentence a wide grin on his face as he held a bag of all purpose flour in his hands.His face along with his green apron were dusted with all sorts of baking materials. The blonde chuckled,shaking his head at how dumb Tubbo looked right now. "What in the hell are you doing Toby?" Tommy questioned his messy twin.Tubbo rolled his eyes,placing the flour on the counter and dusting his apron off with his palms.Tommy watched as the white powder particles flew around the room and then seemingly disappeared into thin air. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Tubbo threw him a snarky question back.Tommy shrugged. "I'm trying to bake a pie dummy,it's a recipe Phil told me!"

Tubbo pointed to the spot behind him.Tommy followed his finger and kindly smiled at the caring presence in the room with them.He waved his hand and let out a "Hey Phil!" The ghost seemed to be in a good mood today,Tommy instantly felt the happy and pleasant emotions.He didn't taste salt water though so Wilbur wasn't around sadly,he wanted to greet his other ghost friend aswell but looks like he'll have to carry out that wish another time.For now Tommy needed to clear his mind and relax a bit.A distressed and worried feeling reached Tommy as he gently laughed: "Don't worry Phil,I'm just going out for a stroll through the woods.I won't get lost this time!"

Tubbo looked at Tommy with suprise and unexpectance. His brother didn't mention anything about going into the forest.Naturally Tubbo immediately tried to prevent him from going all by himself and that he should maybe take Phil with him or look for Wilbur but Tommy shook his head at the idea of tagging along with somebody by his side.He had to be alone right now,not becouse he didn't like spending time with the ghosts,he loved it actually,but his thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour and he had to sort them out by himself.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

"Please be careful Tommy,Phil says so aswell." Tommy stood at the door,his pale hand held it open for him.Tubbo gave him a considerate smile and threw his arms around his younger twin brother.Tommy was a little cought of guard but he directly hugged him back,squeezing him tightly. After what felt like hours to Tommy but only a split second to Tubbo,the hazel haired boy released his brother and waved his hand back at him as he slowly approached the deep rooting forest.Tubbo only closed the door after him once Tommy was out of his sight.The older twin looked at Phil with caring eyes:"Do you think he'll be okay Phil?"

"𝐻𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑇𝑜𝑏𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦,ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓."

Tubbo nodded his head at the kind worded answer he received from his ghost friend.He adverted his eyes from the translucent man towards the window where he stared at the spot Tommy walked through a few seconds ago.

"Yeah you're right." A smile tugged at Phil's cold lips as he watched the young boy infront of him go back to grabbing the flour he placed on the kitchen counter and continue preparing the pumpkin pie. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

Tommy's walk wasn't too fast and not too slow.A steady pace of walking forwards aimlessly is what you could possibly describe it as.The blue eyed boy didn't have a location he prepared to visit before taking off,he let his feet take him wherever they felt like going in that moment.His mind was coming to a rest as the cool autumn air filled his lungs and Tommy released it back where it came from.He played around with the smoke forming from his breaths. This absolute silence and calming atmosphere was something the stubborn blonde craved.He closed his eyes, taking a deep,long breath to cleanse his senses,opening them again after letting out said breath.

Between all the orange and red shades of leaves,you could spot yellow and slight purple ones if you look close enough. Tommy was always the kind of person to pay good attention to small details and mistakes which tends to piss people off sometimes,but that didn't bother him in the slightest.You could say the meanest shit towards Tommy but he would simply brush it off and insult you ten times more hard and offensively than you did.He held many traits that others around him found difficult to process and understand but Tommy can't help the way his personality came to be over the years of growing up.And now even at the age of fourteen he still hasn't fully built up his perspective of looking at life in a certaint way.

Tommy came to a sudden halt.There infront of him was a open meadow which seemed to contain the ruins of an old battlefield of some sort.Stone structures such as watchtowers and canons of rusty iron were scattered around the grass.This place must have been quite the mass slaughter and destruction disaster.Tommy wondered how many people faught for their lives,how many of them made it out alive?How many fathers gave the promise to return back home to their families but failed to keep it?What was the reason behind this destroyed crime scene?What rules were broken to cause this massacre?The questions in Tommy's mind began to pile up and grow the more he dug around through the abandoned ruins.

Old pieces of armor and small weapons like broken arrows and daggers layed motionless on the ground.Nothing in particular stood out to Tommy but he did take a few old golden coins to sell them down town.The blue eyed boy decided to start his way back home since it was getting dark soon and he doesn't wanna repeat old mistakes.It only seems like it happend yesterday when Tubbo and he got lost and met Phil for the first time,even though it was more than five years since that happened.Tommy snickered as he played the scene back in his head.

And right before Tommy walked away from the gruesome scene a bright piece of metal reflected itself in his eye.The silver metal was hidded under a heavy looking rock.Tommy made his way towards the shimmering material and pushed the rock away from it after finding an easy spot where to grab it and drag it off of it.The mysterious metal turned out to be a sharp and silver blade of an old sword.Tommy's eyes widened as he admired the beautiful but deadly weapon. This thing must have taken out so many people and destroyed their lives but it still looked so taken care of and newly hardened.There was a wierd writing engraved at the bottom of the sword holder.A cursive "𝑇.𝐵" was carved in it.

Tommy squinted with his eyes, T.B? He could only ask himself what that stands for.Maybe the first letters of the name who once held this sword in their hands and fought with it for their life against everyone else?Maybe it had a secret meaning or message hidden in it?Who knows. Tommy surely didn't but he did know that he is definitely taking the cool looking weapon with him before someone else discoveres it and uses it for something dumb.

The moment his fingers grazed along the sharp blade,the taste of copper and iron filled his mouth.A stinging scent of blood and discomfort danced over his tounge.Tommy's face scrunched up in disgust as he smacked his lips to make the awful taste go away faster but it wouldn't budge. It only seemed to get worse and stronger the more he fought against it.Giving up on getting rid of the revolting taste that made him want to throw up right then and there Tommy quicky snatched the sword and swiftly ran back the way he came from.Little did he know that he wasn't going home alone and that someone is interested in getting something back from Tommy that belongs to them.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

Tubbo had just finished placing his homemade pumpkin pie in the preheated furnace.It wasn't even finshed yet but it already looked appetizing enough for Toby.Phil left a while ago leaving the brown haired boy by himself to clean the kitchen,even if Phil did want to help there isn't a big chance of that happening,pretty self explanatory.Tubbo was lightly humming to himself while washing off all the batter from his wooden bowl.He made sure none of it went to waste by picking up the smaller droplets of the beige substance and licking it off his fingers.A smile fell apon his lips as he hummed in delight at the sugary taste of the pie's dough. He was still waiting for Tommy to come back,but made sure to keep his nerves and heart in check so they don't break loose and make him go crazy in worry.

The smell of delicious,crispy pie filling spread around inside the kitchen of the two brothers.After twenty minutes of spending it's time in the burning cole filled furnace Toby equipped himself with his red mittens and delivered the hot metal ring the pie was placed in to the windowsill.He has to admit for a baked good he created by himself and only the slight help of his ingredient list aka.Phil,Toby was more than proud of his baking skills.He would have to repeat this another time with both Phil and Wilbur on his side!Maybe Tommy could join them aswell,but that would probably lead to Tommy setting the whole house on fire along with everyone inside.Tubbo cringed at the though,reconsidering the idea of letting his chaotic brother help him bake.

The front door opened and a exhausted,out of breath Tommy came storming in through it.To his suprise the wooden surface didn't shatter or break even though he slammed it shut pretty hard for his liking.Tommy still held onto the sharp sword in his palms,the blade carefully layed against his chest,making sure he doesn't slice up any skin in the process of keeping it in his grasp.Tommy gently placed it aside,while he kneeled down and began untying his muddy boots.The taste of blood didn't leave his mouth. Once he untied his boots and stored them in the compartment for his and Tubbo's shoes,Tommy tenderly took hold of his precious new found sword he planed on treasuring forever.A huge grin spread across his facial features,making his tiny dimples stand out.

He couldn't wait to show Tubbo his new weapon he found. Ignoring the horrible distaste swimming in his mouth, Tommy snuck over from the main entrance hallway to the kitchen and quietly turned the door handle.Much to his supris,Tubbo seemed completely distracted as he focused on removing the metal baking ring around his freshly baked pie.Tommy could use a piece of it right now,anything to get rid of the taste of blood flowing down his tounge.Shaking aside his unnecessary thoughts,Tommy crept up behind his brother and slowly poked his right shoulder.And just as expected Tubbo squealed,jumping up in fear and nearly letting his masterpiece of a pie fall down with him.

Tommy laughed,clutching his stomach watching his twin calm himself down and make sure his pie is still together like it should be and not broken in small pieces.Tubbo was about to angrily yell at Tommy for being so mean and scaring him even though he reminded him countless times to never,ever to that to him but the sight of something,or someone even scarier next to the laughing blonde made Tubbo scream in terror.He could tell it was a ghost and he didn't look like a happy one either.Tommy abruptly stopped laughing once he heard his brother scream bloody murder. "I know,I know 'don't ever,ever scare me again!' relax Tobes this is the last time I'll scare you." The pale blue eyed boy reassured his brother.

"Check out this sick sword I got!Isn't it cool?I found it while walking through the woods,was under some old rock on some sort of battlefield." Tommy presented Tubbo the sword,his brother could see the blue orbs lighten up with excitement and pride as he rambled on and on about how sick his new sword looked. "Ehm Tommy?" Tubbo asked Tommy who wouldn't stop admiring the blade in his hands. The blond boy looked up from his sword letting out a small and confused "huh?". "Your sword sure does look cool and everything but,who's your new ghost friend?He eh,he seems nice?" Tubbo questioned his younger twin expecting Tommy to be aware of the pig masked ghost following him.

Tommy being Tommy looked at Tubbo bewildered. "The hell are you talking about?I didn't feel any presence or wierd emotions?" Tubbo was surprised,he continued to look at the scary looking ghost who was staring back at him,he seemed suprised aswell by the fact that Tubbo could see him and even describe what he was wearing. "I don't know why you didn't feel his presence but he's definitely standing next to you." Tubbo pointed out "Does he mind answering some questions?" Tommy looked at Tubbo with curious eyes as the hazel haired boy hesitantly began talking to the stranger spirit:"Do you mind ans- Okay then he can definitely hear both of us." Tubbo smiled turning to Tommy who still tried to get rid of the metalic taste dragging itself out in his mouth.

"What's his name?"

"His name is Techno,and that sword you were bragging about a few minutes ago is his and he's very angry that you took it from him."

.....

"Does he want it back though?"

"Yes he does,he says the sooner you return his sword where you found it the sooner he will leave us alone."

......

"What if I don't return it?What would happen then?"

"He will haunt us until you decide to retrieve it to him."

......

"Why couldn't I feel his presence even though he stalked me back home for over half an hour?"

"Eh,do you taste blood in your mouth Tommy?"

"How did yo-?Yeah I do actually.How did he know?"

"Apparently,and I quote: That's the way you can tell he's around so if you were smart enough to figure that out by yourself you wouldn't be so suprised that he's in our house right at this moment."

......

"Okay 'mr.smartass" how in the hell was I supposed to know that?Go ahead,explain asshole."

"He says that if you owned a decent working brain you should have realized it sooner."

"Now he's calling me stupid?Yeah he can forget about his sword,I'm keeping it.Hell he can haunt us as much as his little ghost heart desires,see if I care dipshit."

Tubbo tried really hard to contain his laughter that was building up in his stomach but at some point he failed and broke out in a fit.The way Tommy and this new ghost,that told them goes by the name of Techno,were already bickering back and forth between eachother was so funny to Tubbo in a way nobody could understand.He could have figured that his brother wouldn't give up on the sword so easily but apparently Techno was just as bad since the crow wearing ghost didn't give up on it either.

"You two need to calm down.Techno would you like to hang around?We have two more ghosts keeping us company and we own a music shop!"Tubbo enthusiastically opened up to Techno and asked him to stay which Techno seemed to be taken aback by since normally people are scared and weirded out by such things as ghosts,not to mention most people normally didn't posses the ability to actually see them in any sort of way.But the fact that Tubbo seemed to communicate and see Techno made the ghost tilt his head in interest and curiosity.He found a liking to Tubbo but this Tommy kid on the other hand was a pain in the ass.First he steals his sword without any consent,then he calls him an asshole,a dipshit and a smartass to add to the list.He was gonna make sure that sword gets back where it came from.

"Hell no!Forget it,nu uh there is no way I am letting this smartass spend time here with us,especially not at the music shop with Wilbur and Phil!" Tommy argued,trying to stop Tubbo from making a mistake and letting this asshole of a ghost stay with them.Tubbo giggled,placing his hands on his hips:"C'mon Tommy!Loosen up a little,he isn't that bad!Right now he complimented my pie!I say he should hang around!" Tommy was about the throw another argument against his staying but the glare Tubbo send him his way stopped him from doing so.Tubbo can get really scary if he chose to do so in certaint situations.

"Now that that's settled!You want some freshly baked pie?" Tubbo twirled around,holding out his pie proudly infront of him.Tommy's smile was genuine as he placed the sword aside and completely forget about the copper taste in his mouth and the spirit standing next to him.He pulled out a chair neatly located under the table,making sure he doesn't scratch the floor while doing so.His mouth was watering and drool began to form as he watched Tubbo place a plate of pumpkin pie infront of him.The pale blue eyed thanked him as Tubbo got a piece for himself and sat down across from Tommy on the table.

The rest of the night was spent with eating,joking and storytelling by the campfire as the pig masked ghost silently watched the two brothers interact happily :)

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕰𝖓𝖉 ♔︎

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬!𝐁𝐮�� 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚n𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞!𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬!𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝,𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @netherbricknick 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐮!

[vampireharker]

Sunshine and Cigarette Smoke

Nervous Jonathan delays bringing up a relationship changing question by telling his girlfriend Mina of the time he unwittingly ruined a young lady's reputation when he was only fourteen. A writing exercise in relationship dynamic and worldbuilding for my upcoming Dracula webcomic. This series of exercises dig deeper into the details of the world that won’t fit in the comic.

Original universe. Dialogue heavy. Mature. Horny on main. There is no smut but the dialogue is a bit nsfw. 

Something about the sunny weather, the cool breeze, and the fact that there was no-one in this park made Mina feel particularly mischievous. Or maybe it was the wine Jonathan had brought along on their little spring picnic. Or the handsome way he lounged on the blanket against his elbows, head tilted back and cigarette hanging from his mouth as he took in the sunlight.

He was smoking again. He only ever did when he was stressing over something. Mina thought it had been his law exams this past winter, but he’d passed those with such high scores there was no way the Incorporated Law Society wouldn’t accept his Solicitor application even if they were taking forever to make a decision. But it was such a pretty day, and Mina didn’t want to ruin this nice moment by digging up a troubling subject so she sighed instead.

“Something wrong, babe?” Jonathan asked, popping the cigarette out of his mouth. He sat up, staring at her. “You sounded worried just now.”

Said the stress smoker.

Mina’s thoughts raced for an excuse, and then that mischievous mood she had been in came back full force. A proper lady had all the tools she needed in her frills to dig specific information out of a man, it was just matter of applying them with the right amount of effect. She smiled cutely, and her skirts ruffled as she scooted closer to him. The air was warm with late spring, so her gown had short sleeves and a low cut that revealed enough to be teasing, but covered enough to not be the talk of the town. She enjoyed pushing the boundary of modesty whenever she went out with Jonathan, mostly to tease him, and because she didn’t give a hoot about propriety when it came to him of all people. And it was hot out here. Sometimes the girls needed to breathe, too.

Mina snuggled against his shoulder, angling herself just right so that there would be little left to the imagination from his view. He smelled of warm musk and methanol and a natural sweetness just beneath his skin. His dark eyes, appreciating what she offered, suddenly narrowed in suspicion. “You’re up to something,” he said matter-of-factly with a slight frown.

“Mmmm, perhaps,” she replied coyly, not even bothering to feign innocence. Then her lips spread in a wide, playful grin. “I heard you last night.”

“Huh?”

“In the shower.”

Jonathan choked on the smoke he’d just inhaled, dark cheeks brightening with hot red. “I-I-I don’t know what you’re on about,” he wheezed.

“Oh, please. You were loud. Must have been quite the fantasy.” She pouted. “You could’ve invited me. We only get to stay with each other on the weekends, you know, when Tim's away.”

“It was all very quick, you wouldn’t have enjoyed it much,” Jonathan countered. He flicked the ash of his cigarette into the grass. “Sometimes you get the urge and have a go. Besides, you were busy grading essays, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Sure, sure. What did you think about?”

He gasped. “My lady!” he cried in feigned shock. “I hardly think this is proper conversation. Also, nothing in particular. I told you, it was quick. It caught me by surprise.” He took a thoughtful drag, then flicked more ash away. “Damn, I don’t think I had that happen to me since I was in secondary school.”

“Wait, waitwaitwait, you wanked it back then?”

“Yes?”

“But you were so… so proper!”

“Um, I’m still proper, thank you, you’re the one bringing up an indecent subject like a Godless heathen, Miss Schoolteacher.”

She waved him away. “We’re focused on you, Mr. Harker. So bitch the pot. You can't just leave it at that.”

He shrugged. “What’s there to tell? I was your typical adolescent boy with healthy urges. …Why are we even going into this? Is it really that odd for you to picture it?”

“Yes.”

He burst out laughing. “Seriously? We had a tiff behind a dumpster once, the smell was quite awful.”

“That was after I took your innocence!” Mina cried. “Before I got my grubby mitts on you, you were this pure proper little virgin who didn’t know anything about anything, and now you're telling me that you wanked? Can't picture it, not with the way you were when we got together.”

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“No, but that’s because I have fun teaching you. But I can’t help feelin’ a bit sorry for the poor girl that would’ve had to bear that responsibility if I hadn't came along.”

"Rude," Jonathan snorted. “Well, you came at a good time then because I had my eyes on someone else for a moment there, and it was all very humiliating.”

He took another long drag. “Okay,” he said, after turning his face to the side to release some smoke. “This should amuse you. I was fourteen so this was before you transferred to St. Joshua's. One of my mates had this older sister. Rebecca. Very pretty, smart like you; she was, I think, sixteen. Or almost sixteen. Anyway, her coming out was approaching very soon so I think she went a little wild before joining with high society.”

“Wild?”

“Did all kinds of improper things. The guys really liked her.”

“I think I would’ve liked her.”

“You two would’ve gotten on great because it gets worse. You know, I’m a young lad, weird body things are happening that I don’t know what to do with. I hadn’t became popular yet, so I was still a bit of a loser. Before the growth spurt.” It was true. Jonathan used to be below average in height until a growth spurt the summer he turned sixteen. Now he towered over most people at 188 centimeters. The top of Mina's head could barely reach his shoulder.

Mina nodded. “By the time I arrived, you had that gaggle of giggling girls at your heels and leaving notes in your locker.”

“And then you took them all away.”

“That I did. And we were rivals all the way up until our last year when you told me that you loved me.”

“But before then, everyone wanted us to date. They shipped us hard, it was weird. Little did they know…”  

Mina grinned widely. “The football team's shower room.”

“The bleachers.”

“The pool at night where I got that nasty UTI.”

“Sorry about that. Then there was behind the stage near the paint room.”

“And following that, the kitchen when we were on cafeteria duty.”

“The stables, but was that before or after the library?”

“Before the library, because then we moved on later that day to the dean’s office.”

“WE DID NOT.”

Mina laughed. “Oh, but we did, Mr. Harker. Right on his desk. You can block it from your memory all you’d like, but I have pictures to prove it. I wonder if he ever noticed the scratch marks on the wood?”

Jonathan sat there for a moment, looking completely mortified. “He had so much trust in me,” he finally said with a slight sob.

“Well, what else is the girl you’ve been playing at St. George with supposed to think when you invite her into an office alone?”

He paused, cigarette still in his hand. “…I don’t recall you being on top that time.”

“Oh, now the gentleman remembers.”

“I remember you on that desk, vividly, I just blocked out where that desk happened to be and now I know why. Did we clean up at least?”

“We're not animals. But now that we’ve gone over at least half the history of our canoodling, what about Rebecca?” Mina had to bring the conversation back to the original point before they started reminiscing too deeply about their very proper and not at all sexual relationship. “Within a few months, I had you in every way all over the school grounds, but you went absolutely nowhere with this girl?”

“Hey, fourteen-year-old boys are very intimidated especially by older women. Also, we’re getting to that. So there I am, before the growth spurt that would change my life, still kinda awkward and short and completely unnoticed by her. Or so I thought. Turns out, that wasn’t the case at all.”

Read more

[rivkahstudies]

ooh favorite weather!! i love cloudy, rainy weather! there's something so cleansing and peaceful about the rain to me. i think it serves as a reminder that sometimes, things need to be washed away in order for something better to take place and grow. (i just live for that cozy aesthetic, frendo) i'm curious about your fave weather! ajsjsj have a lovely day, rivkah!

my favorite outside weather is between 65 and 75 (fahrenheit) // 18 and 24 (celsius) and sunny, with a light breeze. esp if it’s spring or summer and everything is in bloom. my favorite inside weather is consistent rain, but not necessarily a storm--I get what’s called barometric pressure headaches, not unlike the kind of pressure changes that upset your dogs before a storm. so I really hate when the rainy mood is ruined with me feeling like crap lol. thank you for asking, love!! <3

I’d give you Ed Sheeran’s Photograph because the beginning chords are something that I just AUTOMATICALLY visualize a nice, steady rain with. it’s just such a lovely beginning to the song.

[eldritchsurveys]

689.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? >> Mid-November, at the Wayland house. It was technically a photo of me with Ursula, who is a cat.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? >> No.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? >> I don’t really catch myself daydreaming. Sometimes I follow a train of thought and get lost, which I guess is the closest thing to daydreaming for me.

What's your favorite thing to think about as you're falling asleep? >> ---

Is there anything that you want to do, but won't because you're too afraid? >> I mean, probably. Can’t think of anything right now, though.

Who was the last person to yell at you? >> Fortunately, people don’t yell at me these days.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? >> Sparrow gets up before me because she goes to work in the morning.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? >> Sure.

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? >> ---

Which political issues are you most passionate about? >> ---

You're going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? >> I don’t have a favourite foreign country.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? >> Since I’ve been in this apartment, the longest time I’ve been away from it is 2 weeks.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? >> The Wicker Man was engaging and kind of funny, but I don’t think it was emotionally moving. Great acting, though, especially at the end.

What motivates you to go to school? >> ---

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? >> Probably a lot, back when I had a high stimulant tolerance.

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? >> I don’t think I’m particularly one or the other.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? >> I don’t remember.

How did you pick out your last outfit? >> I just grabbed the first pair of pants and t-shirt I saw.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? >> Good materials, strong sole, stuff like that. Of course I want them to look nice, but I’m not buying shitty shoes just because they’re cute.

What happened to cause the last mess you made? >> What was the last mess I made...?

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? >> No, I’m not embarrassed. I’m territorial.

When was the last children's b-day party you attended? >> I recall going to one last summer for a 1-year-old in Sparrow’s family. It was in a park, so that was nice.

Are you good at reading other people's body language? >> I mean, maybe. It’s not a priority for me, though.

If you're sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [ usually ]? >> ---

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? >> I don’t know, I don’t really like chicken noodle soup so I don’t eat it when I don’t feel well.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? >> Anything spicy, to clear out my sinuses and shit.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? >> It was fine. Had a lot of questions I had no answer for, though.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? >> When I was young, probably.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? >> Kind of, but also, like... not really. It’s difficult to imagine the state of being a two-year-old, of course, but it’s not difficult to understand that I was a two-year-old once.

What set the tone for your mood today? >> My emotional hangover from last night and my immense disappointment that I didn’t get a dream to help chill Sam out.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else's day? >> I don’t think so.

Has you ever felt like the whole world was against you? >> Probably.

The name of the last video game you played? >> Elder Scrolls Online.

The name of the last board game that you played? >> Uh... Gloomhaven, way back when?

What was the last thing that you told yourself? >> *shrug*

How many times a day do you wash your face? >> Once, if I even remember.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer's name? >> Hell no???

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? >> Violently, obviously.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? >> ---

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? >> I’ve lived in several apartments and I live in one now.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? >> Yeah, I got a lot of comments when I was skinny. Mostly favourable ones, as one would expect -__-

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? >> Er... like... what lol

Name a show from the 90's that you miss? >> ---

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? >> ---

Have you ever thought about joining the military? >> Fuck no.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or "different" people? >> I don’t know, I barely remember being little at all, let alone the minutiae of my behaviour.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? >> With who?? Who cares what the fuck is in my room lmao

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? >> They have an effect on my well-being, sure. I need frequent sunny days to maintain equilibrium.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? >> Kind of. Mostly I experience lack-of-sun fever.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? >> *shrug*

How good are you at getting along with other people? >> I don’t know. Passable, I guess, when I have the energy.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? >> I don’t know if I’m approachable or not. Doesn’t that depend on the person looking to approach me?

Do you know anyone that's a little emotionally unstable? >> *shrug*

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? >> Of course.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need "help"? >> Like, therapy? Of course. But if they’re not going to pay for it, then who cares.

Do you take offense to things easily? >> No.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? >> I don’t.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? >> Meh.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? >> It was fine. I’ve never had bad service at a restaurant, actually.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? >> No. I’m envious of people who can feel connected to other people.

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? >> ---

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? >> Heartman.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? >> Roll the windows down, unless it’s just that unbearably hot.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? >> I don’t know, I add songs to it on occasion, I guess?

Is there a new song or band you've discovered? >> Dreamcar is a new one.

What teacher gives you the most homework? >> ---

What type of personality do you find most annoying? >> *shrug*

How did you hear about Bzoink? >> I don’t remember now.

How long did it take you to sign up for an account - if you have one? >> Like two minutes.

Are you punctual? >> Most of the time, if I can help it.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? >> No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? >> Yes.

Do you give any consideration to what's said in your horoscope? >> I don’t read horoscopes.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? >> I don’t remember.

[mattness]

Space Dementia

Hi, my dear friends. I got something very good for you. This is the beginning of my sloppy translation of my fanfic that you've been waiting. Sorry for silly mistakes, that meet in the text. I translated alone. So... I hope you enjoy.

OTP: Jennifer Wright/Robert Grey Genres: Romance, Angst, Drama, Detective, Psychology, Hurt/comfort, Humdrum, Horror, AU, Friendship  Summary: She thought she had found salvation in him, but she didn't know she was at the mercy of a horrible monster who had own plans for her. //// Chapter I. 2007, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia Stood may sunny day, heralding a warm summer. The blue sky was absolutely clear and the cool wind was sneaking into the small children's room. The curtains swayed from the easy impulses, sometimes forcing the fifteen-year-old girl to swear. They bothered her to collect items from red chest, who was standing right by the window made it difficult to find something very important and valuable. To find the room was a mess: everywhere littered with toys, crayons and school books interspersed with items of clothing. Now the reigning mess did not bother the hostess of the room at all because she's late. Parents waited in the car, putting before the fact that if is going to take longer than necessary, they will go to  grandmother without her. But the girl couldn't go on the road without his beloved soft toy-bear, which has always been with her almost from the cradle. "Jennifer!" a stern voice was heard from her mother at the foot of the stairs in the corridor. "I'm coming!" shouted in the answer girl, finally finding the necessary and the most expensive thing from the entire his room. She hugged the bear cub tightly and threw her backpack over her shoulders and ran out of the room.

The door to the house slammed, and she enthusiastically jumped into the big blue BMW. Father, glancing in the rearview mirror, smiled at her daughter and started the engine. His wife constantly looking at the clock. She was very unhappy that they were already half an hour late. Dyed hair dark red waves falling on her sharp shoulders, slightly obscuring an oval face, which wore the grimace of discontent. Blue eyes constantly examined the interior of the car, as if not knowing what to stop. The woman pursed her full lips, fingering something in her hands. Little Jennifer always thought her mother was very beautiful, even when she was not in the mood. Although the girl never saw that Mary was happy. As if she's something has long been disappointed and now was upset with the whole world and their own lives. She is always cold treated her daughter like she was her non-native. Unlike Chester, the girl's father. He enjoyed spending time with Jenni, telling stories and tales. The black-haired man always tried to devote time to the daughter. His brown eyes radiated the most sincere love and kindness. This couldn't hide even the glasses, which he began to wear recently. Chester was quiet and peaceful man, he rarely raised his voice at anyone and kept all the anger in yourself. As soon as Mary throw another tantrum, he tried to silently listen to her and understand what was wrong. Probably because of his soldier's endurance and nerves of steel their marriage and Mary has still not disintegrated. Recently, however, the wife began to behave strangely, and something inside tells Chester that he's going to lose her. Jen never meddled with her parents relationship because she thought it was a personal matter. They'll figure it out fine without her help. Moreover, the girl didn't want after her words catching unhappy, angry and full of reproaches her mother's eyes. So now she turned to the window, inserting headphones into her ears to isolate herself from the outside world. Most of all she was like her father. She had the same dark hair, freckled face and neat nose. Plump lips and blue eyes, the girl got from her mother. Character she also largely took over from the father. Jennifer showed kindness and responsiveness, tried never to be rude, but sometimes she's very stubborn. The car moved smoothly from the place, going from Sunny Philadelphia to the North of the country, to the small town of Derry, located in Maine. The road promised to be long. In a way it is necessary to make some stops to fill a tank with gasoline, and also everybody to have a snack and to gain strength for the further road. Jennifer, as she's can remember, every summer went to Derry for two weeks to visit her grandmother. Her house was located closest to the city center, where almost no one was walking. The girl truly did not understand why parents doing this to her every year. No, of course, she loved to chat with her grandmother, who was always in stock a lot of stories. However, Jen continued to not understand parents until she was thirteen. It was then that she realized that all this time they were trying to spend alone with each other and to establish relations. Now at fifteen, sitting in the back seat of the car and vaguely hearing the curses of mother, Jen was really hoping for these two weeks, they will be able to love each other again. But with every trip to Derry for the last three years, she believed it less and less. Plunged into her own thoughts and music in her headphones, Jennifer closed eyes. The car began to seasick her, and the tenacious paws of Morpheus dragged the girl into the sweet realm of dreams.

* * *  "Wake up, sleeping beauty," the gentle whispered of father, and Jen slowly opened her eyes and smiled. “Get up, Jenni. We're in Derry.” The girl nodded in response, getting out of the car and taking the backpack. She looked around, finding herself on the broad street of little Derry. Unlike Philadelphia, here was cloudy weather. The sky was overcast with gray clouds, and the treetops swayed continually in the icy wind. The girl shivered from the cold, deciding quickly to go to grandma's house. No matter how many times Jennifer was in Derry, she never liked it here. First, there was always no one to walk with. She didn't understand why this small and seemingly cozy town, so little children. And young here was a bit. All at once went to the big cities, to enter universities. Nobody wanted to sit in that hole. Jen with confidence can tell that this place is specially created for the elderly like her grandmother. Here, nothing ever happens, everyone knows each other and spread unpleasant gossip. In short, a real village, thought the girl to herself, looking around. "Jenny, go to the house!" shouted grandmother, already meeting its on the threshold of. "Hi, grandma!" Jennifer exclaimed joyfully, rushing into the arms of her beloved Granny. “I miss you. Are you?” "I am also insanely missed you, sweetie," smiled the woman and stroked her granddaughter's dark hair. “You're all grown up, Jen.” “Quit, granny.” "Let's go for a walk today in the supermarket, and then go on the swing?" she chuckled, suggesting a routine ritual she and Jen had always performed. The dark-haired girl nodded in response, paying attention to the parents who had left the house. Mary folded the bag of food they had brought with them into a small black bag. She serious looked around the whole area, as if looking for someone among the trees and bushes. Then the woman turned her attention to her mother Christine, smiling stiffly. "I put all the food in the fridge. Money on your desk, mom," cold said Mary. “If anything happens, call me.” "I know what to do, honey," Christine snorted, hugging Jennifer tightly and smiling at her. “We'll be fine as usual.” At this point, the house was left by Chester, also smiling. He didn't want to leave his daughter for a long time in Derry, because it is unlikely that anything will change in the two weeks of her absence at home: Mary was adamant and seems to be going to file for divorce. The woman approached her daughter, pulling an unnatural smile on her face again. It made Jennifer uncomfortable. She was too used to the stern expression on her mother's face. "Behave yourself, Jennifer," her mother said quietly, patting her cheek with a cold hand. "Bye." "Bye, mom," Jen quietly squeezed out. "Don't let her go anywhere, Mrs. Wheeler," said Chester, crouching on his knees in front of the girl. In the answer she smiled. "I've heard strange things about Derry." "Tales of clowns again, dad?" Jennifer smiled, rolling her eyes. "I don't believe in them. Especially since I spend all my time with grandmother. Too boring here." "It'll be all right, Chester," Mrs. Wheeler assured him. Chester smiled and hugged daughter. She snuggled into him, not wanting to part with him for two long weeks. The man released her and walked to the car where Mary already waiting him. Dad waved to his daughter, sitting in the BMW and starting the engine. Christine and Jen watched as the blue car headed away from Derry, back to Philadelphia. The girl sighed, feeling like every minute longing for the native home, for mom and dad becoming more and more. * * *  In Derry the storm began again. Heavy rain poured outside the window, spoiling Jennifer's mood. Today she wanted to go for a walk with her grandmother around the city again, see all the few sights for the hundredth time and go to the supermarket for groceries. But the stupid rain ruined everything. Somewhere high in the sky lightning flashed, and there was a deafening thunder. In the living room TV for a moment ceased to catch a signal. Grandmother swore loudly, making Jen burst out laughing. Getting up from the sofa, an elderly woman came to the old ruin and knocked. The girl sighed, continuing to listen to her grandmother's curses and look out the window. Drops slowly dripping down the glass, dissolving into each other. The wide road was completely flooded, and the dirty water ran into a small storm drain, which was located at the bottom of the curb. “What's clown, granny?” suddenly Jennifer asked, continuing to mesmerize dark storm drain on the opposite side of the street. “Ah?” surprised grandmother. "Well... Dad said something was going on in Derry. He told me about some clown. Weird fairy tale. I vaguely remember", said girl, frowning. "I was five or seven." "No wonder that you don't remember." Jennifer was immediately distracted from the contemplation of the rain and sat down beside Christine on the couch. Grandma hugged her granddaughter with one hand over his shoulder, the other has lowered the volume on the TV. The woman sighed, sinking into his memories, and slowly start: "This clown appeared here when I was about twenty-five years old. Maybe a little less. It was during this period that children began to disappear. A lot of children are missing, and no one could find them", with each word, the elderly woman went into herself more and more. "The madman who disguised himself as a clown only got caught by the police once. But he escaped. Almost immediately. Many years have passed since then. I was hoping that psycho was dead." "He back in Derry?" cautiously asked Jen. "Yes. And I heard that from you. You told me you saw him waving at you from the bushes." said the grandmother, than scared girl. Suddenly Jennifer was confused, plunging into her own memories…

* * *  In Derry came one of the few sunny summer days, and Jennifer, of course, persuaded her grandmother to go for a walk. They reached the main square, where many people always gathered. On the playground the kids were playing, which was quite a bit. Jen sprinted off to the Playground while her grandmother crouched down to rest after a long road. The left leg was treacherously sick. Jennifer happily jumped on the free swing to the face to trees and bushes, enclosed by an iron grating. There, behind the fence, was a small nature reserve Derry, and there were forbidden to go. On the grid could be seen a yellow plate with the inscription: "Private protected area. For illegal entry - a fine of 1000 $". The swing rose high in the air, and the girl was enjoying this wonderful feeling she flies. Such a clear and blue sky could be reached with your feet, which inspired even more. Seemed, even a bit, and Jennifer indeed going to fly. She fancied herself a bird, until she again turned her attention to the fenced trees. Among the bushes could see something white, and Jen, distracted from their fantasies, tried to see a strange spot. Behind the bars stood a man in a white clown costume. Red buttons-pompons did not look ridiculous, but rather gave a special charm to lush clothes. White collar, the same white makeup on the face and red hair. The lips, painted in red, is immediately stretched in a welcoming smile, it was worth the girl to draw a clown's attention. He waved to the girl, then motioned to him. Jennifer stopped the swing, wondering if she should approach the clown behind bars. The girl frowned and showed the clown a finger, indicating she'd be back in a minute. Clown subtly smiled in anticipation, but that baby hasn't seen. "Grandma, can I go play with the clown?" running up to grandmother, loudly asked Jen. "Which clown?" woman immediately distracted from their crosswords. "Well, he's there, at the gate", she explained and turned to point a finger at the clown, who is there already, of course, was not. "Oh, he's probably gone. Pity!" "Let's go home, Jennifer", frowning and saying no more, her grandmother said sternly, and taking the girl by the hand, led her to the side of the house. The girl turned back, noticing that the clown was standing in the same place. He pouted angrily and wiped the nonexistent tears from his face. Jennifer was confused, thinking, that made the right decision. Otherwise, the grandmother raised the whole district on the ears… * * *  Two weeks visiting the grandma have passed for Jennifer unexpectedly quickly. She always found something to do: read books, in good weather, was walking with his grandmother in the bad watching TV with her, sometimes painted in your album. All the time the girl found something to do, and memories of that stupid meeting with a possible maniac Derry themselves out of my head. Again high in the sky the sun was shining and Jen first heard the birds singing, sitting on the veranda of the house. Grandma took out of the house on a tray of tea and cookies. The girl smiled at her when she sat down opposite and began to tell another story from his life. Christine traveled around the world a lot and saw a lot of things. She always had the opportunity to go from Derry to some metropolis to live in luxury, but she still remained in this backwater. Jennifer couldn't understand her. To which grandma replied that after many years Jen will understand it. Suddenly the girl was distracted from the story grandmother, noticing how the house is approached from afar the familiar blue BMW. Jen was confused, because parents usually pick her up on Sunday, and today was only Friday. Grandmother also drew attention to the car, which has already stopped near the house. For wheel as and always was Chester. He turned off the engine and got out of the car. Jen instantly fell from her seat, running towards her father with cheers. Chester picked up the girl in his arms, kissing her on the cheek and squeezed. "Why are you here so early?" Jennifer was surprised, already being on the ground. "I'll tell you everything, kitten. But first I need to talk to your grandmother", calmly replied the father, and together they went to the house. "Mrs. Wheeler, can I have a word?" "Sure, Chester." smiled woman, rising and heading for the kitchen. The man followed her, asking Jen to sit in the living room. Girl nodded in response, not knowing what happened. Dad rarely talked to his grandmother about something serious, she thought to herself. And it usually didn't bode well. Jennifer frowned, including TV and starting to look for something interesting among a long list of channels. After a few minutes, the adults came back from the kitchen, and Jen immediately noticed how gloomy grandmother. It was as if she was plunged into some bad memories from her life, which made the girl feel uncomfortable. All her attention turned to father, who sat opposite her. "Jennifer, listen to me carefully", quietly asked Chester, hard sighing. Girl sat down on the edge of the sofa with her hands folded in her lap. She was preparing to hear anything, if only not very bad. But severe and focused expression of papa's face she understood that it happened something serious. And it hit him really hard. Because he has always the cheerful face, but now it showing no emotion. "Your mom... She left." dad started gently, and her eyes immediately glistened with tears. "We're divorced, sweetheart." "Where she left?" sobbed Jen. “I don’t know”, Chester shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "She's coming back, right? Yes, dad?" no longer holding back tears, hoping girl asked. "I don't think so, Jenni." Christine, who was watching them, sighed. Heart sank in pain, desperately trying to understand why her daughter left her family. The woman herself was ready to cry, seeing as Jen snuggled up to daddy. Inside the girl something painfully broke, and instead of love to the mother, which and so it was always cold, had formed a black abyss of hatred.

[ellawritesficssometimes]

Attracting Stupidity –  Spamano One-Shot

SUMMARY: Heartbroken and bitter over being left behind, Lovino resolutely works to finish his last year of high school, having previously flunked out. The problem is that while his aspirations remain positive, his reasons for doing so wrongly lie in proving a certain Spaniard wrong.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12948889/1/Attracting-Stupidity

Rated: T

Words: 17,800.

“Lovino?” Feliciano asked with trepidation, as if he were treading on eggshells. He approached me from behind, where I was sitting slumped on the front porch. It was a late August afternoon. As the temperature cooled and neighbors stirred from their 3 PM lethargy, I remained drained and cranky.

I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes so that all I saw was a warm orange – the sun was particularly bright and sunny today, even as it prepared to set. The dark humour in me would have laughed at this if I had the energy.

I didn’t respond in the hopes that Feliciano would read the atmosphere for once and leave me to my resigned misery. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone him.

“Lovino?” Feliciano repeated.

I bit my lip. “Not now, Feli. I’m busy,” I said sourly.

“Too busy to say goodbye to–?”

“–What part of ‘not now’ do you not understand?” I interrupted. Feliciano sighed.

I bit my lip this time. “…Just do me a favor and piss off somewhere else. I don’t need you to come in here and tell me to do what’s right. I’ve made my decision.”

Feliciano held onto the doorframe, rocking on his heels. Usually, my temper would have spooked him by now. I’ll give him credit where it was deserved. Gentle-natured and kind as he was, he had still inherited the stubbornness that characterized us Vargases.

“Then why are you watching him?” Feliciano countered. “If you really made the decision not to say goodbye, then you wouldn’t be out here at all.”

“Maybe I’m just enjoying the weather. Did you ever think of that?” I said, eyes still closed. I was coming close to pinching my nose.

Feliciano made a ticking sound, like a mother who knew that what they were hearing from their child was a lie. “I know you don’t like me butting into things–”

“–Damn right, I don’t!” I scoffed. I grumpily opened my eyes. It was too late to salvage any sense of peace at this point. We had gone back to the foray of volcanic eruptions that was my personal life.

“Lovino, that’s enough! I’m not leaving you alone this time. I’m tired of doing that. I’m tired of fighting over everything,” Feliciano raised his voice. I half turned around and was met with an unusually sharp expression. Feliciano’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

I briefly established eye contact with him but had to look away. It was unnerving to see his eyes narrowed at me like that. Yes, I was a disappointment in the family, but Feliciano had an annoying naive habit of maintaining faith and bringing out the best in people. To see him look at me with such scorn cut me down a lot more than I would have liked to admit.

I didn’t say anything again. Feliciano took this as his cue to continue. “It’s painful to see you like this, Lovi,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “You should at least say goodbye. I said goodbye.”

“What does you saying goodbye have to do with anything?” I asked, bored and reluctant to hear what he had to say next. “Why does everything always have to be about you?”

“You didn’t let me finish, again. You’re putting words in my mouth and I don’t appreciate it,” Feliciano retorted, on the narrow cusp of getting impatient. “What I was going to say is that h­e asked about you.”

I love you Lovino, I always have.

I held my breath and strained not to show a physical reaction to this, even though it made a whole wave of emotions stir uncomfortably in my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseous. I hated it, but I was more compelled to listen now that he had mentioned him.

“You’re both too stubborn for your own good. You two may not have ended on a good note, but I think that you at least owe each other a goodbye. You’ll regret it if you don’t, especially after everything you’ve been through with him. There was more to your relationship than it being all bad you know,” Feliciano said pityingly, bringing a hand on my shoulder.

I was too numb to shrug away. “What you’re asking me to do is a lot harder than what you make it sound. He fucked me up real bad. I don’t want to relive it,” I shuddered.

“You won’t stop reliving it until you resolve things. That’s why I’m saying that you should say goodbye to him…to Antonio.” Wow. He had finally been so bold as to mention his name, a mix of both guts and nerve.

Just hearing the name Antonio made my knees weak. I strained to keep my voice firm and even, hiding the fact that my eyes were now watering. “I guess so,” I admitted. “Damn, Feli. You’re so irritating. I feel like I’m speaking to an old man. You’re 16, you’re not supposed to be this wise.”

Feliciano chuckled lightly and removed his hand from my shoulder. “And you’re 18. I shouldn’t have to lecture you and yet here I am.”

“Yep, you ruined the moment, you smug little bastard,” I cussed, making a shooing motion at him. “You said what you needed to. I’ll think about it, okay? Now leave me alone.”

“Well, that turned out better than I expected,” Feliciano remarked. “I think I may have actually gotten through to you,” he said as he began to close the front door. “We may not get along most of the time, but believe it or not, I hate seeing you like this. Please, “he paused, “please consider what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved him off, dismissively. “Don’t you have packing to do too?”

It felt like everyone was leaving after this summer. Feliciano to art school for his last two years of high school, and him…elsewhere.

Feliciano smirked knowingly. “Yes, I still have lots to do. Oh, and good luck.”

My silence must have been enough for Feliciano as the door carefully swung shut behind me. I straightened my shoulders and looked up.

“’Good luck’, what an arrogant thing to say,” I muttered to myself. “’I hate seeing you like this’,” I mocked again. “What a load of processed shit. If you weren’t my brother I would have already bashed your face in.”

Several kids from the neighborhood passed by on bicycles and scooters, occupying the middle of the streets without a care in the world. It’s not like anyone living in Wynwood were expected to be role model parents anyway. Mothers hid away in their homes and let their kids roam free. Fathers worked all day and were almost never heard of for one-third of the families here. Instead, kids parented each other. The problem is that many of these kids grew up to be rotten.

An easy scapegoat for our fucked-up family lives would be the constant buzz and radiation of the hydroelectric plants nearby. Apparently, they made people angry and more erratic, not to mention cancerous later in life.

No one who stayed in this neighborhood ended up right. You either became a drug dealer or a nobody high school drop-out. I was bordering on the two. I suppose that’s why I was so bitter. I was stuck here. There was no way out for me because I didn’t have a work ethic like Feliciano. Feliciano’s stubborn, but he’s more resilient than I am. He worked to get out of here and everyone knew that he would be going somewhere, anywhere but here. And then there’s him, who’s also leaving…

“OI!” I shouted from the porch. “Get off the middle of the road! You’re going to get hit by a car!” To emphasize my point, I smacked my left fist against my right palm.

“Sorry, Lovino~!”

“You better be,” I growled. “You should know better too! Older bad kids go racing around this time of the day.” Several kids winced at my harsh tone. All I cared about was that my message was loud and clear.  

The sound of bells and training wheels soon faded away in the direction of the park. Rather than silence, there was still the faint buzzing of electricity. On instinct, I had almost convinced myself that a certain someone was humming across the street. Then I realized that their humming had stopped for months now. There was nothing to be happy about.

Antonio was leaving Wynwood too, and like a hopeless loser, I was silently watching him as he flitted about in his front driveway, packing boxes of his belongings into the back of his dad’s truck. He was especially klutzy and nervous today, likely because I had shown my face in open daylight after our ‘break-up’ in June, if you could even call it that.

Most of my summer had been spent avoiding him, wasting my days inside sleeping and going out at night at the park to relax and smoke a few joints with other kids our age.  He had come by to the house a few times, but I didn’t answer. Not after what he had done.

It had been so long since I had detached myself from him, and looking at him now reminded me how hideously attractive he was for a person as stupid as him. It had always been an inside joke that the strange curl sticking out from the side of my head had a gravitational pull for all things stupid and negative. Antonio had always liked that about me…my curl…pulling it even though he knew full well that it pissed me off.

You haven’t always loved me. If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this. You’re leaving me again, just like you always do.

Still, I needed to see him before he left. Watching him would have been a good enough goodbye if Feliciano hadn’t just pulled a Biblical moment of wisdom on me.

CRASH!

I jumped up in surprise when Bella, the paper girl, cycled past and threw a paper at the front door. She had thrown hard to get my attention and had stopped right by the edge of the curb in front of the driveway.

Reluctantly, I met her scolding jade eyes. All she had to do was point at Antonio, whose head was thankfully turned away, for me to understand what she wanted me to do.

I raised my hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I’ll talk to him,” I mouthed. It was best not to piss her off. She becomes scary when she’s angry.

Bella nodded with a sense of importance, but not before giving me a back-and-forth ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture. She peddled off, slower than she needed to, and only really left until I had stood up.

WHOOSH!

My eyebrows furrowed with disdain as I whipped my head back to spot Feliciano and Grandpa spying on me through the living room window. There weren’t quite fast enough.

Sheepishly, Grandpa waved me forward, as if to say ‘go on’. Feliciano smiled nervously.

I rolled my eyes and opened the front door. “You’re lucky you’re on disability, you nosy old fart,” I called out. “You too Feliciano. Mind your own business.”

“We’re just making sure that things turn out alright, Lovi,” Feliciano said, no doubt pouting.

“I can take care of myself,” I snapped. “God, are you two ever overbearing.”

I didn’t give them a chance to respond as I had already slammed the front door. The only positive out of this was that I was now charged enough to confront, I mean, say something, to Antonio. I inhaled, raked a hand through my hair, tousled it a little, and then stomped across the street in my sandals. I know, I know, intimidating, right?

Upon reaching his driveway, I slowed and waited for him to look up. Antonio was bent over the front seat of his dad’s truck, butt hanging out. He appeared to be searching for something.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

“Ack!” Antonio spluttered and flew up, only to whack his head against the ceiling of the truck. “Ay, ay ay,” he whimpered in pain as he straightened, grabbing at the back of his head with his right hand. When his green eyes locked with mine, his cheeks reddened. His lips moved but nothing came out.

I probably looked the same. My eyes felt like they were going to fall out with the way that they were bulging. Antonio had tanned considerably since I had last seen him. Droplets of sweat dripped down his neck and stained the front of the red muscle shirt he was wearing. His brown curls fell at his shoulders, also damp, and still as messy and unbrushed. He’d always been lean, being an athlete, but I couldn’t help but notice that he had gotten thinner.

“…Hey,” I said, near incoherently. My lips were pretty much glued together and my tongue refused to remain any semblance of coordination.

“Lovino,” Antonio murmured, rough with emotion.

“Can I…um?” I gestured with my hand.

“Yes, yes, of course!” Antonio waved me onto the driveway. I pretended not to notice that he had accidentally slammed his hand against the truck.

Carefully, I took a step onto the driveway. Hurt flickered in his eyes. I had pretty much lived at his house for the past eighteen years. To ask for permission now cemented my status as an outsider.

We stared at each other for a minute, unsure of what to say. We were only a few feet away and yet I couldn’t bring myself to close the distance. The awkwardness became too much to handle, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re leaving,” I pointed out, hollowly.

“Yeah,” Antonio answered robotically. “I am.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you want to, maybe, go for a walk?” I proposed.

“Yeah,” Antonio answered again, breathless. “Just give me a minute, okay?”  He hadn’t recovered from the shock of me coming here. It hurt, but I could tell that he had been expecting to leave without me saying goodbye. That was another thing about him that we fought about a lot; he didn’t hold a lot of faith in me. Meanwhile, I held all my faith in him. It was more than unfair. It was cruel.

Antonio pulled out a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans shorts and locked the truck after shutting the driver’s door. He had been walking around the driveway without any shoes or socks – another habit that used to drive me crazy. Despite how neutral I tried to remain, the annoyance on my face must have been as plain as day.

Antonio wordlessly went into the house to grab a pair of flip-flops before meeting me at the edge of the driveway.

“Where to?” he asked.

I didn’t establish eye contact, looking ahead instead. “I was thinking about the bus stop.”

“Sounds good.”

Bile rose in my throat. I hated being so stiff and formal with him. It was sickening.

Silently, we headed for the bus stop. I felt Antonio’s longing eyes on me the whole time, which irritated me. He had no right to stare like that, not after how disposedly he had treated me. I settled for staring at his arms, fixated on the wristwatch he wore. I hadn’t yet worked up the courage to say anything.

When we reached the bus stop at the end of the street, I immediately went for our spot. Right by the street sign that read Wynwood, there was a large granite stone that children often climbed up to sit on as they waited for the bus. It was surrounded by a bush, which had made it the perfect hiding spot/ place to talk.

Antonio hesitantly stood beside the rock, like a squirrel who had second feelings about crossing the road. I had nearly forgotten that he was several inches taller than me. He seemed even larger now that I was terrified of him and what he had to say.

I sighed. “Sit,” I ordered. It was about time that one of us grew a damn pair.

Wordlessly, Antonio hopped up on the rock and settled next to me. I inhaled and stared across the road at the park. Memories of us throwing pinecones at passing cars and then hiding in the bushes as our angry targets circled the block several times to find us delinquents crossed my mind. It almost caused me to smirk, almost.

“So, you’re really leaving, huh?” I asked.

Antonio tensed up beside me. “You could be leaving too,” he said blankly.

“Antonio,” I inhaled sharply. The conversation had already gone downhill. Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed.

“No, Lovino,” Antonio turned to look at me. I didn’t reciprocate. “This time you’re going to listen to me instead of cutting me off every time I say something that you don’t like. You could be going to university now too, but instead you chose to flunk out. I may have done many wrong things to you, but this is one thing that I’m not going to stand down and take. You’re here because you chose to be. You didn’t care about your grades. You were too busy smoking dope and ditching class.”

“That was a cheap shot and you know it, Toni!” I raised my voice. Without thinking, I flashed my gaze onto Antonio. Both of our eyes were burning. I balled my fists and resisted the urge to wipe off the arrogant sternness on his face. He wasn’t being fair, again.

Antonio stared at me. There was no kindness in his expression, only hardness and disappointment.

My throat throbbed with a newly-formed lump. “What do you want me to say? That I was a hopeless self-loathing loser who hated living in his brother’s shadow? Because if so, then you’d be right. But I’m not like that anymore. I’ve told you that already! I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. If you would have bothered to check in with me you would have known that I’ve signed up for school in September. I’m redoing my senior year.”

“That’s great, Lovino, but I know for a fact that you haven’t quit smoking pot and Feliciano tells me that you still steal from them to fund your habits. And what about Alfred? You’re still hanging out with that jackass. He’s not a good influence on you, and I don’t like him,” Antonio retorted. “You’re not reliable; I don’t believe you. All you do is rely on others to fulfill your own selfish gain.”

“Screw you!” I spat. “You have a lot of nerve coming here to lecture me after everything that you did. All you do is criticize me. Why does me smoking matter so much anyway?! Oh, and just so you know, I haven’t stolen from them since June. We sat down and had a talk, and I’ve agreed to pay them back with all the money I’ve made this summer by helping Bella’s brother.”

“Helping Bella’s brother by what, dealing?” Antonio said disbelievingly. “Honestly, do you even listen to yourself? There’s nothing wrong with smoking occasionally. The problem with you is that you have no self-control. It became the center of your life. You didn’t attend classes and were always asking for money. The only thing that mattered to you was getting high and blowing off those who cared about you. You were living in your own world, and I got sick of it.”

“You’ve got some damn nerve, I’ll give you that. No matter what I do, you find something to pull on me and make me feel shitty about myself. Alfred’s been there for me when you weren’t. I don’t smoke as much as I used to either. But why would you care? I’m never good enough for you.”

“That’s not true, Lovino.”

“Don’t you take words from my mouth! I know I’m not the cookie-cutter person that you want me to be, but I was always loyal to you. You say that I live in my own world? Who was there for you when you got injured, huh? Who was there when you felt like there was no reason to live? I helped you get back on your feet.”

Antonio wavered. “That you did, and I’m very grateful for it.”

I blinked, taking a moment to recollect myself. That was a cheap shot on my part. Two years ago, Antonio had been actively scouted by professional football leagues in Europe. After he had broken his ankle, he didn’t play the same and was forced to retire. He had taken a year off to recover and work through his depression over it. I had been right there by his side for the whole time.

“Look,” Antonio began again. “I don’t want to fight with you. I can’t anymore. Do you realize how difficult it was to love someone who you can’t trust? I told you that I didn’t like where you were heading. I told you that the losers you hang around were going to cause you to flunk out. You didn’t listen. You all share the same mentality: angry and bitter without ever putting in the work to change your circumstances.”

I scoffed. “You know full well that I treated you differently than the others. I loved you too. That’s why I promised to change. You weren’t patient enough. I tried to quit smoking, but it’s hard. I’m anxious all the time, okay?”

“That still doesn’t excuse stealing from your family. Take some responsibility for your actions for once,” Antonio replied without a beat.

“You’re just embarrassed by me,” I accused, defensively. I wasn’t really helping myself at this point.

“I’m not. I’m just disappointed. You’re more than capable of getting good grades, Lovino. I’ve seen you when you’re passionate about something. So maybe you were serious about me. But what about yourself? Life? School? Did you expect me to wait for you forever? To have unlimited patience? How could I take you seriously when you weren’t serious about yourself? You lack passion, and you don’t apply yourself.”

I saw red. “Didn’t I just say that I’m going to school?”

“You’ve said a lot of things in the past. You’re good at telling people what they want to hear,” Antonio’s stated coldly.

“Like what?”

“That you would quit smoking and stop hanging out with Alfred.”

“And we’re back to that again!” I exploded. “Why does it matter that I hang out with him? Are you jealous or something?”

Antonio’s nostrils flared. I had picked up on something. Knowing him, though, he would be too stubborn to admit it. “No. You’re better than this and it’s just frustrating that you can’t see that. That’s why I had to let you go. It was too much.”

“Fine, I see your point,” I said, feeling my face warm. “Can I say mine now?”

“By all means,” Antonio waved his hand. Perhaps it was because I was mad, but it came off as smug. I was being infantilized by him, again.

“I’m disappointed in you too, and it’s not just because you abandoned me.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Antonio protested.

“You did, now shut up and let me speak. You’ve had your say.” I waited until I was sure that Antonio wasn’t going to interrupt me. I could tell that he was fuming on the inside. Many buttons had already been pushed.

“You’re a hypocrite and sell-out, Toni. You come here and spout garbage about me having no passion in life? What about you? You can’t honestly tell me that you’re passionate about teaching…teaching!...

…I looked up to you. You were one of the few people in this godforsaken area that remained happy and hopeful about life no matter what. The accident changed you; there’s no spark, nothing. I’m not the only one who’s lost passion. At least I’m real and honest with myself about it. I don’t pretend that I’m perfect either.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Antonio snarled, slamming his hand against the stone. I flinched. “I had to do something with my life. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass and mope around. I’m trying to forge a new path for myself. I don’t want to be stuck in this…this dump forever.”

“Figures why you dumped me too,” I muttered bitterly.

“I didn’t dump you out of the blue. You had that coming to you for a long time. There was only so much that I could do to help. You were letting go of yourself. I’m not going to be held hostage by you anymore. I’ve earned my leave.”

Each accusation squeezed at my chest.

“No. You’re just like me. You’re impatient. I helped you, and you couldn’t even return the favor. I was trying to get on the right track but you breaking things off threw me the fuck off. Now…now you’re leaving again.”

“Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I have done many wrong things to you. But I’m not the only one to blame. You’re still not taking any responsibility,” Antonio harshly interceded, repeating himself like a broken record.

“You kept promising, Lovino,” he stopped to correct himself, softening his tone. “Lovi. We talked about this, about us going to uni together once I recovered. What ever happened to that?”

“I couldn’t handle seeing you so depressed,” I admitted. “It was hard to see you lose everything, your passion in life, only to commit yourself to something that you weren’t passionate about. It broke me, and I needed to get rid of the stress. I guess this isn’t a good excuse, but it’s all I have to offer. Take it or leave it. It just sucks because I thought you were passionate about me. I couldn’t have been any more wrong.”

“I am passionate about you! Don’t say such things!” Antonio said, exasperated. He looked like he had aged ten years during the span of this conversation.

“No, you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t have given up on me. I would have been able to handle you leaving for uni. We would have worked something out. I would have worked harder. Heck, I was more than willing to work harder. You were the one who gave up because you were too busy focusing on yourself. Change isn’t a one-shot thing. You didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt. You…you didn’t trust me.”

“That’s not true!” Antonio echoed.

“It is and you know it! Keep justifying what you did so you can look good in front of others, but you won’t ever look good in my opinion. I won’t let you have that. Leave and start a new life for all I care. You’re too good for us now, too self-absorbed.”

“Lovino, that’s enough.”

I wasn’t going to stop now.

“You say that I’m good at telling people what they want to hear? How about I change things up a bit and do the reverse? You and your fancy scholarship and your phony ass smile can go to hell. You’re not the same person I once loved. There’s nothing authentic about you anymore. In fact, the only thing that you can’t fake is your stupidity. Fuck, I’ve never seen someone so disconnected from reality. Why don’t you step into someone else’s shoes for once?”

Antonio’s mouth parted. “I didn’t know that you felt that way. Or that you smoked more because of me. I told you…what I’m doing now…I’m making a life for myself.”

“And if it’s good, I won’t be in it,” I countered.

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Antonio bellowed. “God, you know that’s not true. There’s nothing more that I want than for you to graduate high school and make something out of yourself. I know you can. Did you ever consider that you’ve been selfish too? You stole from your own family and have lied to them AND me several times. You’re not the innocent martyr that you play yourself out to be. You expect everything to be done for you for nothing in return.”

“When did I ever say I was a martyr? You never listen to me. I’ve owned up to most of my mistakes and I’m working on them. I’m cleaning up come the beginning of the school year, for real this time. I know I can do better too.”

“I want to believe that, I do,” Antonio said, contemplating heavily over his next words. “If that’s the case, then I wish you the best of luck.” There was no heart in what he was saying. It felt too scripted.

I rubbed at my eyes. Of all times, now I had to cry. “Fuck,” I swallowed. “You’re so stupid. I had been telling you this all along. Our fight would have never happened if you hadn’t been so oblivious.”

“I’m sorry. I know I played a part in it, but I can’t wholeheartedly agree. You say that you want to change, but you haven’t really. You’ve always blamed me. I’m not going to be your scapegoat and punching bag anymore. You need to understand that.”

“Well, I don’t want to. Everything that comes out of your mouth is fake.”

“I’m not fake!” Antonio objected. I had pushed another button and wasted no time in latching onto it.

“Yes, you are. Sometimes I wonder if any of what we shared was ever real.”

“Of course, it was real! I love you, Lovino. I always have!”

Tears poured down my face. “You don’t. Stop lying to me. I don’t know why I came here expecting anything. It was a waste of time. You’re a fucking emotionless automaton. I can’t tell you anything.”

“We’re not children. Grow up already,” Antonio fumed. “You always blow things out of proportion.”

I didn’t respond. It took his blockhead a solid minute before he realized that I was crying.

“Lovino,” Antonio chided. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

He moved to place an arm around my shoulder but I shrugged away as if I had just been jolted with a current of electricity. “Don’t call me sweetheart. You’ve lost that privilege. Only Antonio can call me that, and you’re not him.”

Stung, Antonio retracted his arm. “I’m still me. If you can’t see that you’re part of the problem then that’s not my problem. I’m sorry but it’s true.” He reached into his shorts to hand me a tissue. I grabbed it with more force than necessary.

“Bullshit. You’re lying through your teeth like some self-important prick. It’s a shame that all that passion went away. I was rooting for you but you turned out just like everyone else. Keh, what a phony,” I sniffled, dabbing at my cheeks. The tears had stopped but things were far from over.

“You’re the one who’s lying,” Antonio blurted out. “I still have passion for you.”

Wide-eyed, I looked up to reach his eyes. Briefly, I saw a flicker of the boy I had once loved, the boy who I would have killed for.

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Antonio’s eyes flared as he bent down to press his lips against mine. Whirring, I pulled back but was quickly overwhelmed. I grabbed onto the rock for balance as Antonio held the back of my head, one fist tightly knotted in my hair. He had always admired it for its auburn color, especially when it became streaked with red underneath the sun.

His tongue presumptuously poked into my mouth as I gasped for breath.

“Who lacks passion now?” Antonio growled.

“Nnnn…” I croaked, fingers trembling. Memories of our entire relationship flashed before me, from scar-kneed adventurous toddlers, to lanky pre-teens, to now where it remained unclear and foggy if we would ever resolve our conflicted feelings for each other. How many times had we made-out in this same place?

Strange, isn’t it? How nothing about this felt familiar when it should have. It felt wrong.

“NO!” I refused and brusquely pushed Antonio away.

In shame, Antonio put some more distance between us and looked at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that. If I would have known–”

“–Don’t be sorry,” I said and hopped off the rock. “You just made things crystal clear for me. I was always just someone for you to fuck around with. Nothing about that kiss felt authentic. You don’t love me anymore.”

Antonio didn’t raise his head. “I can see now that nothing I say will get through to you. Think what you want about me.”

“Phony bastard.”

Angrily, I stormed off.

Antonio didn’t chase after me.

He had said it himself. I wasn’t his problem to deal with anymore.

…

One week later…

…

“Lovino?” Grandpa knocked on my door, poking his head into the bedroom. “Antonio’s at the door for you. Should I say that you’re not here?”

I flopped onto my back, resigned in a prostrated position on the bed. “Nah, tell him the truth. I don’t want to see him.”

Grandpa sighed, brows furrowed. He was like an older version of me, except old, more handsome, more muscular, and with unnecessary gray stubble on his face. He wouldn’t shave it off no matter what I told him. Apparently, he had a ‘lady friend’ across that street that he wanted to impress.

“What happened to your foot?” Grandpa asked, amber eyes resting to the bandage over the big toe on my left foot.

“I tripped over Feli’s luggage. He left it right in front of my door. Idi…ah, never mind.”

Grandpa lifted his stern expression. “I see. I’ll tell him to clear his things. So, are you sure? About Antonio I mean?”

“Yep. Get rid of him,” I answered matter-of-factly. I was done crying over someone who didn’t feel the same way, someone who didn’t accept me for my faults. None of my improvements mattered to him. I wasn’t the delinquent I used to be a few months ago.

“Okay, done. Dinner will be ready in an hour. And no, you’re not going to eat up in your room again. This is one of the last chances we’ll get to eat as a family until Christmas,” Grandpa lectured. That’s right. Antonio left next week, and Feliciano in three days.

“Mhmmm,” I said, peeling at a loose piece of skin on my finger.

“Lovino, I know you’ve never picked up a book in your life, but you can appropriate a better response than that.”

“Sorry, I’m not Feliciano,” I huffed. “I don’t read as a hobby. I go out and have a life. Big whoop.”

Resigned, Grandpa left.

“For fuck’s sake! Is it really so hard to close the door after you open it?!”

“Mhmmm,” Grandpa trilled smugly.

I opened my mouth in retort, but quickly closed it when I realized that Antonio would have been able to hear me. Shamelessly, I scuttled over to the bedroom window and rested my head at the far corner. My bedroom was located just above the front porch, so I would be able to eavesdrop without any problem…that is if my phone hadn’t begun to ring.

Alfred was calling me. Hissing, I put it on silent.

The conversation must have ended quickly because, by the time I looked outside again, Antonio was already walking over to his house.

My phone rang again, this time with a text. Unsurprisingly, it was from Antonio.

“I know it may seem like I don’t love you but I do. You have to understand that I’m doing what’s best for me… I had hoped that breaking up with you would have given you the wake-up call you needed. Maybe it’s best that things ended this way. It’s not too late for you to start fresh, Lovi. I sincerely hope that you’re going to do what you said this time.”

“THAT BASTARD!” I screamed. Obviously, screaming loud enough for the entire neighborhood wasn’t enough for me. I stalked over to the window, made sure that Antonio had turned around, and promptly shut the curtains on his shitstain face. Unsatisfied, I then re-opened the curtains, slammed the window, yelped when I slammed it on my fingers, and then re-slammed the window.

Out of breath, I slumped against the nearest wall.

I stood there for what had felt like hours, too anxious and drained to move.

BRING!

My phone lit up with a new text. It was from Alfred, asking if I wanted to meet up with them. Without any conscious thought, I typed yes and hit reply.

I waited until I was sure that Feliciano and Grandpa were busy moving stuff into the garage before I snuck out through Feliciano’s bedroom window and into the backyard.

…

I found Alfred and Heracles lurking like imperious alley cats near the dumpsters behind their apartment building. They had both been kicked out of their houses for a few years now and looked the part with their scraggly, scuffed up appearances.

I wasn’t surprised that Alfred was wearing a muscle shirt, showing off the fake muscles he had gained from taking steroids, nor was I disappointed to realize that Heracles had already smoked most of the weed.

“Lovino, my dude!” Alfred guffawed. “You look like shit. What the fuck happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered.

“Well hell, is it really that bad? How about this then? I know these two chics that we could hook up with. Really easy, ya know? Not super hot or anything, but totally fuckable if you’re hammered enough.”

“I’m not interested,” I waved Alfred off.

“Fine man. Was just tryin’ to help,” Alfred simpered.

“Here,” Heracles offered me his bong. “Take a hit. You could use it.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled. Everything about this was disgusting and wrong, myself included. Grandpa and Feliciano were probably just coming up to my room now. I could already imagine the disappointed looks on their face.

I don’t like being here. This isn’t who I am.

Maybe Antonio was right…? Antonio kissing me hadn’t felt right, but being here didn’t make me feel right either.

After religiously recounting everything he had had to say this past week, I could see why he didn’t want me hanging out with people like this. The last thing I wanted was to end up like them in three years, living on welfare and having zero respect for anyone – especially women– who didn’t worship the ground at their feet.

I was going to have to change.

I’ll show that bastard. I was going to step up my game, for real this time.

I took another hit.

Once summer was over, that is.

…

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the school year had started. I was determined to prove Antonio wrong and had attended all my classes. Although, this didn’t come without any bumps in the road.

I had quit dealing for Lars, Bella’s brother, but had yet to quit smoking. So far, I had begun to wean myself off from it by letting Grandpa handle and control how much I had. He would allot a certain amount every day, and would slowly reduce how much I smoked.

While he didn’t want me smoking at all, Grandpa understood that the end goal of me being off pot for good was beneficial in the long run. The man had a lot of patience, especially after all the bullshit I’ve put him through.

Me quitting was a project that we would work on together. It helped that Feliciano was gone too. I loved him, I really did, but I had always felt short and inadequate in his presence. Without him, I felt freer to go at my own pace and to not be so hard on myself if I had a mishap or two.

What I was doing was all tentative anyway. Still, I was stubborn as a motherfucker and would see this through, even if it killed me from the exhaustion and boredom of committing myself to receiving that single piece of paper. I would graduate from high school, damn it.

BRING! My phone buzzed with a new text.

Without hesitation, as I knew that if I looked I would be tempted, I threw my phone onto the bed. It was pointless because I already who it was. I wanted nothing to do with Heracles or Alfred anymore. On another note, I really did need to find a new hobby that would help blow off some steam, or, at the very least, distract me.

It was days like this where I felt even more anxious than usual. The old me would have smoked non-stop. Unfortunately, I had already used up all that I could smoke today and didn’t want to ask Grandpa for more. Progress reports had just been distributed, and I couldn’t have been anymore nervous. No, I felt nauseous. I had given the envelope to Grandpa without bothering to open it.

After years of hardly showing up to school, everyone’s stares and whispers had caused me to lose my cool several times. Combine that with the crankiness over needing a smoke, and you can see my dilemma.

Progress reports weren’t tangible grades or anything. Instead, they involved the teacher commenting on how you were doing in the class, such as how your participation, your initiative, your engagement, and how well you got along with others. Eager, question-asking nerds would receive excellents, average students would receive goods, sub-par dim-headed students who had no clue what was going on but were well-behaved would receive satisfactories, and students like me, who talked back and never did their homework would receive need improvements.

Just thinking about it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. To compensate, I popped two pieces of gum into my mouth – another habit I had adopted to help quit smoking –and decided to watch a video or two to help ease my mind. Grandpa would be coming up soon with the results.

With a loud plop, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, both of which had been hand-me-downs from Feliciano. You would think it would be the opposite with me being the older sibling, but Feliciano had gotten a new set of everything as a congratulations for getting accepted into art school.

Mindlessly, I opened Facebook and began scrolling through the feed, fingers tapping against the wooden surface of the desk in impatient and uncomfortable agitation. One thing caught my eye, although I wish it hadn’t.

I had been avoiding looking at the Frosh Week photos Antonio posted, but this one stuck out like a scalding red target.

He was at a party, tanned cheeks pink and flushed from booze with his arms casually slung around two girls wearing bikinis. All three held up the pearl necklaces around their necks as if they were some sort of prize.

Hurt, I closed the laptop.

Why hadn’t he ever smiled that big for me?

I reopened the laptop and inhaled sharply, willing myself not to lose my temper.

“Don’t think negatively,” I told myself in a murmur. The words filtered out of my mouth numbly, perhaps even a bit robotically. “It’s not going to help. Focus on what you want. You’ll prove him wrong. He’s not worth it.”

Two seconds passed.

“FUCK!” Angrily, I stood up and grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pencil case, and threw it against the wall.

How dare he. Did what we shared together mean nothing to him? How could he? How could he move on so fast? How he could he live and be happy after everything that had happened? I was right. How vain. How cruel…how…how emotionless.

“You selfish bastard,” I hissed, clenching and unclenching my fists.

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!” I whispered in an angry mantra, only to reseat myself and glance at the photo again.

“You fucking phony!” I screamed at the photo. At least now, phony photo Antonio couldn’t retaliate or argue back with me. I could say whatever I wanted.

I was just surprised that Grandpa hadn’t come up yet.

“You liar! You…you cheater! I…I...”

I’m tired of this.

Resigned, I closed my mouth and looked to the side of the screen. When that didn’t help, I refreshed the page.

An unwanted advertisement popped up.

“The fuck, is the government spying on me or something?” I whispered. Right there on the front page was a video about the Law of Attraction and Attaining Success. And here I thought Alfred was a psycho for believing in conspiracy theories. The lunatic even went so far as to place a piece of tape over his webcam, as he was convinced that all technological devices were used to spy on and listen to people’s conversations.

Agh! Enough about Alfred! Thinking about him wouldn’t help either.

Perhaps it was fate or a mere coincidence, but I needed to be distracted by something, anything, so I clicked on the video.

A tall man with spiky blond hair, startling blue eyes, and a cocksure, crooked smile appeared on a podium, speaking into a microphone. He walked with a noticeable prowl to his step, acting as if he owned the stage at his feet. It looked to be a lecture of some sorts.

“Welcome, all. The name’s Matthias Kohler. Most of you know me as the CEO of_____. I’m ______ years old and have just recently ______. I worked hard to get where I am and let me tell you am I ever glad that I make ______.”

Irritated, I tuned out most of what the guy had to say. I wasn’t interested in his life story. What I wanted to know was how he got to where he was. I could have used some inspiration, even from a jerk like him.

“…People ask me this all the time: ‘Matthias, how did you get to this point in your life? What motivated you to get off your lazy arse and work? You see, I used to be unmotivated. I procrastinated like you wouldn’t believe and expected everything to be handed to me. I lived in a world of entitlement. But then, as I grew older, being a useless 30-something living in their parents’ basement wasn’t satisfying. I felt empty and wanted to do something, to make a life for myself.

“The only obstacle was that I was terrified of failure. It was all I thought about. I told my therapist this and you know what the wise old geezer said? Well, for one thing, he told me to stop using so much hairspray. In his opinion, I was one spray away from causing the icecaps to melt … that was a joke, you can all laugh,” Matthias chuckled, his large smile faltering slightly when he didn’t provoke the response he wanted.

Matthias whistled, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Whoo! Tough crowd, tough crowd, eh?”

I stared blankly at the screen.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Matthias continued. “My therapist, Berwald, or Bear as I called him because he looked like one, told me to restructure my thinking. Being negative gets you nowhere in life. If you think negatively, you attract negative things in your life! Simple, right!?”

“Wrong. I called Berwald a loon and was banned from seeing him for two weeks. I was quite stubborn then and had a large chip on my shoulder. Still, I secretly heard Bear out and listened to what he said. He told me to think about what I wanted in life, even if I didn’t have it. So, I did. I figured that it couldn’t hurt to dream. And slow as it was, it worked.

“Every night for six months, I told myself, Matthias, you’re going to find a job, then a partner, and in two years’ time you’ll be able to move out on your own and sustain yourself. Surely enough, six months later, I met Lukas, my husband, or owner as I like to call him…that was another joke. Geez! Loosen up a little, you guys. Heck, I’m smiling and I just had Botox!”

The crowd laughed in pity. Matthias gratefully accepted this, allowing the reaction to channel more vigor into his story-telling. He cracked an even larger smile.

“After moving out with Lu, I started setting bigger goals. I wanted to own a business, a house, and a car. We lived in a ratty apartment at the time. Even if it didn’t work out, it was still nice to imagine. Positive thoughts = positive outcomes, that’s the motto that I ran by.

“Again, surely enough, after working hard and dreaming for five years, my positive outcome was reached. I own one of the most successful toy companies in the world, I own a mansion just large enough to house my own ego, and I own not one, but three cars! Berwald, that emotionless bastard, was right! He helped propel me forward in life. I owe everything to him…”

The video drowned out. I had heard everything that I needed to hear.

“Huh,” I huffed. “Emotionless bastard, all right,” I said and clicked off the video. I wasn’t speaking about Berwald.

“Huh,” I repeated. I hadn’t expected the video to move me the way that it did. Regardless of the fact that it was probably fake, I wanted something new to latch onto.

“Positive thoughts = positive outcomes,” I whispered to myself, ruminating over the concept.

It couldn’t hurt to dream.

“Why not?”

I reached over the desk to grab the hairband Bella had given to me. It had been a long time since I had last cut my hair and it was getting to the point of being shaggy. I needed something to keep the bangs out of my face as I studied.

Calmly, I pulled out the agenda I had bought for the year and opened it to the first page. I was still a work in progress, remember?

There, I wrote down some goals of my own that I wanted to achieve.

- Stick it to Antonio and prove him wrong – Spite and smite the bastard until he comes back begging for you.

- Graduate high school.

- Quit smoking

- Get along better with Grandpa and Feliciano.

“What are you doing, Toma?” Grandpa knocked on the bedroom door. Toma was a nickname I had received when I was younger. Apparently, I loved tomatoes so much that I would eat them until I got sick and my stomach bloated to three times its size. I still loved and consumed tomatoes en masse, by the way.

I jumped and turned in my seat. “Just…uh…I got an agenda.”

Grandpa smirked. “I know. We bought that for you last week. I’m glad to see you using it.”

“You look nervous,” he observed. My eyes were focused only on the folded bundles of papers he held in his hand.

“Of course I am!” I snapped. “Well, get it over with already. Tell me how much I suck at life.”

Grandpa entered the room and sat on the edge of my bed. Skittishly, I fidgeted in my seat before settling for staring at a bolt in the corner of the desk.

“Now, Lovino,” Grandpa started.

“Oh fuck, here we go,” I wailed.

“I’m very disappointed..”

“…”

“…that you didn’t have more confidence in yourself! Congratulations!” Grandpa beamed. “You got three goods and one satisfactory!”

I paled. “You old fart, I swear to God if you’re lying to me right now I’m going to–”

“Oh, give me that!” I said and snatched the paper. I didn’t believe what I was seeing. What he had said was true.

“F-fuck,” I stammered. Grandpa gently took the progress report, cradling it to his chest as if it were a newborn.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “You’ve improved considerably and I’m very proud of you. From what I read, they say that you attend your classes and even participate from time-to-time. That’s what I want to hear. The only thing that I’d like you to work on is that one of your teachers isn’t happy with your attitude. I thought we discussed that you wouldn’t talk back anymore.”

“Grandpa. If you dealt with that woman, you’d talk back too. She drives me nuts and is nuts.”

“Is she single?”

“Grandpa!” I shuddered. “No! I know your standards are low and you’re an old fuck who’s lived past his glory days but this really toes the line! Mrs. Isaac is a she-demon. Trust me, you’d want nothing to do with her. I still have hearing damage from her last screeching lecture…okay, okay!” I interceded. “I’ll try my best to behave myself but no promises.”

Grandpa laughed. He had never been fazed by my insults. “Good, I’m glad. No promises on my end either,” he winked.

“GRANDPA!”

“All right, all right,” Grandpa pouted. “I get lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s why every girl within a ten-mile radius avoids you. You reek of desperation.”

“Enough,” Grandpa said, attempting to be stern but failing miserably. “I’ll have you know that I could get any girl if I wanted to.”

“Sure you can,” I smirked, patronizingly.

“Hmmmph!”

“So,” Grandpa pursed his lips. “Since you’ve been so good for the last little while, I wouldn’t mind giving you a little extra something…” he trailed off.

I understood exactly what he was getting at. “No, fuck no. I’m not smoking anymore today.” All the excitement had done a well enough job at getting rid of my anxiety.

Grandpa smiled again, wider. It was enough to make me smile. “Look at you,” he crooned and reached over to pat my head. Angrily and smile already gone, I swatted at him. If I was a cat, my shackles would have been raised.

“So, have you given any thought as to what you want to do after high school?” he asked me.

“I haven’t even graduated high school yet?”

“Yes, but aren’t you going to apply to college or university? Applications begin in the winter, no?”

“You…really think I’m capable of doing that?”

“Of course I do, Toma. You’re stubborn, but if you’re really committed to something, you don’t give up. You get that from me. I was just like you when I was your age. Ah~! What a different time it was then. I had all the girls and good food I wanted at the snap of a finger.”

“You were also a drug dealer,” I pointed out.

“That I was. That’s why I want to help. I didn’t want to tell you this until I knew that you were ready, but there’s a college fund waiting for you too.”

Stunned, I blinked. Five years ago, he got gotten into a construction accident that had permanently messed up his back. Since then we had been living off his disability paychecks.

“Wha…” I gaped. “We’re always struggling to pay the bills, you jackass! We could have really used that money. Wait, have you paid hydro this month?”

“No,” Grandpa said firmly. “It’s for you.”

I fell silent.

“You’d make a good teacher, you know that?” Grandpa said after a couple minutes had passed.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, I’ve seen you with the neighborhood kids. They really like you.”

“I’m just looking out for them,” I replied. “I’m probably not the best role model anyway.”

“But you are,” Grandpa argued. “You don’t have to play football with them, but you do. You didn’t have to give them your old clothes, but you did. You’re in your element with kids. It’s something I’ve noticed for a long time now. Even when you were in your worst phase, you were always so calm and patient with them. You’re a good kid, Lovino, even though you haven’t made the best decisions in the past.”

“I know,” I said, head bowed. “I’ve said this a million times before, but I’m sorry for lying and always stealing from you. You had a lot on your plate, and it was really shitty of me to do.”

“Don’t apologize. Just continue with what you’re doing. That’s all I ask.”

I blushed.

Grandpa stood up from the bed. “Well, I’ll leave you be. It looks like you’ve got a big year with all the studying you have to do. Do try to consider what I said. You really would make a wonderful teacher.”

I stuck a finger in front of my mouth and pretended to gag. “Error. Error. Lovino has short-circuited from too much praise. He needs a good hour and a decent meal before he’s able to function properly.”

Grandpa shook his head at me and laughed. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

I nodded. “I’ll…join you.”

“I’d really like that.”

When Grandpa left, I opened my agenda and wrote down another set of goals:

- Think more positively.

- Become a teacher (?)

Who knows. The fact that I wasn’t opposed to the idea of becoming a teacher, especially because Antonio also aspired to be one, must have meant something.

I just didn’t know what at the time.

“Yeah, my anger really is a problem. I’ll also have to work on that,” I said and scribbled down said goal.

…

Three months later

…

“Lovino!” Feliciano scolded, smacking at my hand as I made a grab for another sugar cookie from a tin on the kitchen counter. “You know those are Grandpa’s favourite!”  

“All the more reason to eat them!” I smirked and proceeded to plop three more sugar cookies, slowly, into my mouth. With Feliciano back home again for the holidays, I was banned from teasing Grandpa so much. Little did he know that we shared a great relationship now, even if we drove each other crazy, especially Grandpa.

Feliciano crossed his arms and made his best attempt at a scowl. It wasn’t a very good one. “How heartless of you.”

I shrugged, mouth still full. “Eh.”

“Are you going out too?” I asked him.

Feliciano clutched at his scarf. “Yes, I have many more presents to buy if you must know!” he puffed up his chest with a sense of importance. I wasn’t buying it. There was something off about him.

Nervously, Feliciano sensed my skepticism and decided to change the subject. He fluttered to the other end of the kitchen and reached into the plastic holder that kept all our bills and important papers.

“A teacher, huh?” He said as he plucked out the sheet detailing the top three universities I had chosen.

“Yeah, why?” I asked defensively, already feeling my cheeks begin to boil. “What about it? Do you think that I’m not going to follow through with it?”

“No! No! Of course not!” Feliciano blurted out apologetically. “I’m just so happy and…surprised. Seeing you, and then Grandpa…I’m just really proud of you okay?! I know we don’t get along very well and I get on your nerves and annoy you and you don’t like being compared to me but good for you, Lovino! I knew you had this in you, and I can’t wait until you get accepted!”

I sighed. Feliciano had a habit of saying everything that was on his mind when he was nervous. Awkwardly, I walked over to pat him on the shoulder. “Uh, I’m not really good at this but thanks. I’m proud of you too. I heard that you’re kicking ass in your studio. Keep it up?” I phrased that last part more as a question, wanting to punch myself because of how cliché it sounded.

Feliciano’s eyes widened into beach balls. “Thank you, Lovi!”

“ACK!” I squirmed uncomfortably as Feliciano pulled me into a vise-grip hug. “Relax! Relax! Jesus! And how do you know that I’ll get accepted? There’s no guarantee!”

“Gasp!” Feliciano giggled. “Grandpa told me that you were on this positivity cleanse. Don’t lose it now! Who knows, maybe I’ll join you, ah, in this spiritual journey.”

“Look, I know you’re my brother but that was cringey as fuck,” I winced. Feliciano faltered. “Uh, cringey in a good way,” I haphazardly corrected and scratched the back of my head. “You’re right. I have a lot to look forward to and be happy about. There’s no point in focusing on the negative.”

I wasn’t the best conversationalist as you can probably tell. Feliciano knew this too.

Feliciano’s face lit up again. “I’m glad.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Is Grandpa back from the store already?” I furrowed my brows.

Feliciano faltered and his eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

“Feli,” I began, reading into his tensed-up posture. “Who’s there?”

“Well, I better get going now,” Feliciano shrugged away from me and set off toward the door.

My heart stopped. “Feli, you did not!” I knew Feliciano had already visited and caught up with him, but I didn’t think that he would ever dare to take things this far.

Feliciano refused to look at me as I followed him out of the kitchen and into the front hallway.

“I’m sorry, but you two need to talk to each other.”

“I–!”

“–and not just on Facebook!” Feliciano interrupted.

“I’m not doing this,” I protested. “This is my business, not yours. You can’t just–”

Feliciano shrugged on his coat and grabbed the doorknob. Time froze. “–Too bad, I am. This is tough love, Lovi. It may suck now, but you’ll be glad that I did this later…” he trailed off vaguely and then ripped open the door–and my heart– in one fell swoop.

“Antonio!” Feliciano trilled. “You’re just in time! I was just leaving for some errands. See you two later!”

Nearly tripping over himself, Feliciano skirted around Antonio and hopped down the porch. The kid could run, but I was just as fast as him. I would find him and I would kill him; that is, if I survived what was about to unravel here.

Uncertain, Antonio stood on the front mat, gloved hands carrying an old tin box. His cheekbones looked thinner – not in a defined way either, but rather, deprived. There was a daunting look in his green eyes that I didn’t recognize. The only thing familiar about him was the same messy brown curls that stuck up in all directions, looking windswept in an atmosphere as airless as space.

“Hello, Lovino,” he greeted stiffly. “May I…?”

“Yes, of course. Um, hi,” I welcomed him into the house, glancing at his feet as I shut the front door. This is the first time we had verbally spoken to each other in months. Aside from the occasional “hi how are you” texts, we hadn’t bothered to Skype or call each other.

This whole scene was overwhelming. I thought that I had healed, but seeing him now had caused the broken seams of my composure to display themselves. I had forgotten how vulnerable I was when I was with him.

“I brought Turrón,” Antonio murmured as he handed me the tin box.

“Thank you.” I took the tin box and placed it in the fridge while Antonio hung up his coat and took off his shoes.

He met me in the kitchen and whistled hollowly. “You’ve been really busy,” he commented.

I straightened and shut the fridge. “In…?”

“You know,” Antonio’s eyes focused anywhere but me. “In school, or so I’ve heard.”

I crossed my arms. “I told you,” I said simply. The venom was all in my eyes.

“You did,” Antonio said plainly. The shame revealed itself in how he kept fidgeting with his hands, fumbling with the buttons on the cuffs of the burgundy dress shirt he wore.

“Look,” I cut in. “I have a lot of stuff to do, so if you want to catch up, let’s go into my room. I want to wrap Feli’s presents while he’s gone.”

“Sounds good.”

We walked up to my room. On instinct, Antonio sat at the foot of the bed, crossed-legged on the ground because he had always been this weird, while I began pulling out wrapping paper from the closet.

“Congratulations on your grades, by the way,” Antonio began again. “I think it’s wonderful what you’ve accomplished.”

I grit my teeth. Everything that came out of him sounded so fake and rehearsed.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been studying my ass off,” I replied. “How about you? I’ve noticed on your Instagram that you’ve been to a lot of parties, with a lot of girls. You must be really passionate about your grades,” I finished sarcastically.

Antonio smiled, but it didn’t reach his face. He was clearly agitated by my comment. “Only at the beginning of the year. I had a lot to catch up on in the last two months to make up for it, but I pulled through. I’m, eheh,” he chuckled nervously, “not keen on committing myself to anyone just yet other than the occasional fling.”

Well, that was extremely bold of him to admit. “I know,” I retorted, eyes burning.

Antonio avoided eye contact and was quick to deflect from himself. This wasn’t a conversation. It was a masquerade of jabs and insults masked by social pleasantries. “What about you? You and Bella seem to be pretty close lately. You’ve been to a few parties too, haven’t you?”

“We have, but only to hang out and see friends. I don’t do anything…I don’t smoke or drink or any of that stupid shit anymore. I stopped.”

Antonio’s expression lightened. “I know, Feliciano told me. It’s really amazing how much of a 180 you’ve made these last few months, Lovino. I’m honestly very proud of you. I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but you’ve earned it. You’ve proved us all wrong.”

Nonplussed, I muttered a basic thank you.

The house shook as Grandpa entered the front door.

There was still something off about Antonio, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“I have to go to the washroom,” I said abruptly. “I’ll be back.”

In the washroom, I stared blankly at myself in the mirror, unbelieving that this was really happening. The emotions that I felt were real and raw. What sucked was that the person I felt them for didn’t reciprocate. There was nothing real about him other than the fact that he was here.

I must have stood there for several minutes before leaving and dazedly entering the upstairs hallway. On cue, as if he had been waiting for me, Grandpa met my gaze at the bottom of the stairs and gave me a knowing look. That confirmed it. He and Feliciano both had planned this whole shebang.

“I’m here if you need me,” Grandpa mouthed, albeit sheepishly. I gestured something profane at him.

“Tsk!” Grandpa hissed. “Show some manners.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. “My bad.” I smiled angrily and stuck up my middle finger.

Grandpa shook his head in defeat and retreated downstairs. I inhaled deeply and set off toward my bedroom, only to pause when I heard the rusty click of my closet being opened.

“What the?” I murmured and approached the bedroom door, peeking into the crack. The sound of a drawer being snapped open confirmed it

Antonio was searching my room for drugs. He still didn’t trust me.

Furious, I quietly opened the bedroom door and softly let it click behind me. I stood there, watching as Antonio proceeded to check under my mattress, back still turned to me.

It was only when I cleared my throat and he turned around that tears began pouring down my face.

“You have a lot of nerve,” I whispered, trembling and teeth chattering against each other. My knees felt weak and the room began to spin. It took a lot of effort to remain my composure. I couldn’t shout because I didn’t want to bring Grandpa into this.

Startled, Antonio whipped around and nearly banged his head in the process. He clumsily got to his feet. His green eyes widened before looking away in humiliation.

“Lovi, I–!”

“–Save it!” I spat. “If I didn’t realize this before then I sure as hell am 100% convinced now. You’re an asshole.”

Antonio didn’t say anything. Instead, he let out a hasty breath. He knew I was in the right here. For the first time, he was letting me say my piece. I wasn’t going to be indoctrinated by his negative opinions anymore.

“I did this all for you,” I continued, now sobbing. “I quit for you. I attended school for you. I’m going to university because of you. Why is it that no matter what I do you still don’t trust me? Everything I do is wrong to you. I can never win.”

I was beginning to see now that I wasn’t the only one who had told lies in our relationship.

Antonio moved forward. “That’s not true!” he protested – lied. “Lovino, you have to understand. What you were like before…it’s just hard to believe,” he back-peddled.  It’s not that I don’t believe in you, I just needed to–”

“–If you really believed in me, then you wouldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t have invaded my privacy. You have no right to be in my life anymore. You’re a trespasser.”

“Just go,” I waved my hand at him. “You spouted all this bullshit about how I don’t work hard enough in school, and yet, you’re shit at working at relationships. I’m tired of it. Go fuck all the girls you want, see if I care. It’s easy for you. Maybe I am difficult to deal with, but this really proves how shitty of a person you are.”

Antonio’s temper spiked. “So what if I had a little fun and let loose? I deserved it after working for months to get into the program of my dreams. I didn’t owe you anything after years of waiting for you to change.”

“I have changed. How can you not see that?” I should have ended it there, but I didn’t.

“You’re lying,” Antonio snapped. “I saw Alfred the other day. He told me how much you’ve been out on the weekends.”

“Yeah, what about it?!” I exploded. “I work all week, and balance it with breaks. And newsflash! Alfred’s unreliable. I haven’t talked to him in months. He’s just bitter that I’ve stopped being friends with him. How could you possibly trust him over me?”

Antonio didn’t have much of a rebuttal for this. He inhaled sharply and raised his voice. The old me would have shrunk down and swallowed everything he said. This wasn’t the case anymore. I had learned how to look after myself and that included thinking for myself.

My gut instinct turned out to be spot-on.

“You know what?” Antonio seethed. “You were right. I still don’t trust you. I was a fool to think that we would be turn out to be something more. It was nice while it lasted, but I guess fucking around was all we were ever meant to be. You haven’t changed at all. You’re still the whiny entitled brat that I broke off with three months ago.”

The tears stopped. It was unnatural how calm I was. “At least you’re finally being honest with me.”

Antonio left after that.

Numbly, I sat at my desk, unreactive to the angry thumps down the staircase as Antonio left the house.

Anxiety rose up in my chest, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. On instinct, I grabbed my agenda and began scribbling. I needed direction, organization, something other than the chaos that had just been unfairly pulled on me.

Positive thoughts = positive outcomes.

I didn’t want my life to be like this.

Antonio, that bastard, was right. It was time to grow up. However, to do that, I needed to cut him out of my life.

The pen rocked slightly before resuming a smooth, structured glide against the sheet of paper.

- Do things for yourself, not Antonio.

- Prove yourself right.

- Stop attracting negativity and stupidity in your life.

- Think more positively.

Knock! Knock!

“Toma?” Grandpa asked softly. I tensed. My back was still turned to him. He didn’t bother to ask me if I was okay. He already knew the answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I turned to him and tears immediately began pouring down my cheeks.

“Oh Toma,” Grandpa cooed. “Come, here. It’s all right. You’re all right. Shhhh.”

“I hate him,” I sobbed.

Grandpa sighed, conflicted. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

“I know,” I shuddered, gripping onto him tightly. “That’s my problem.”

“It won’t be if I go over there and murder him.”

“GRANDPA!”

“…Fine…”

…

Three months later

…

Spring Break.

It had been three months since I had cut him loose, no messages, nothing. I didn’t feel anything for him and my family respected that. I didn’t bring him up and they didn’t either. Besides, I had a lot more going on my life to divert my time and energy to.

“I don’t want to look at it!” I wailed, covering my eyes.

Bella sighed, waving the envelop that dictated the rest of my life with ease. “Oh hush,” she scolded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter. A creak from upstairs told me that Grandpa hadn’t listened and was hovering above in the upstairs hallway.

“There’s no reason to be worried. You did fine, trust me,” she reassured.

I gave Bella a critical up and down onceover. “You opened it, didn’t you?” I accused.

Bella blushed. “N-no! I just shook it up a little until I was able to catch a glance through the laminated part. Just look at it,” she smiled. “You’ll like what you see, promise.”

“Bella!” I snapped. “You can’t do that, it’s illegal.”

“JUST OPEN IT ALREADY!” Bella and Grandpa shouted, exasperated from the suspension. I’m pretty sure I also heard Feliciano chime in. Grandpa probably had him on speaker.

“Fine!” I huffed and snatched the envelop from Bella. Irritated at having the moment ruined, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the bundle of papers.

All I needed to see was a congratulations before I collapsed into a chair, cheeks flushed.

“I did it,” I said. “I fucking did it.”

The excitement set in as I stood up and read the bottom paragraph of the acceptance letter.

Mr. Lovino Vargas,

Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have received an offer of admission for the Honours program with a Specialization in Education. We are looking forward to seeing you in September. Welcome to the University of ______!

Grandpa and Feliciano erupted in cheers.

“I think you mean, we fucking did it,” Bella giggled, pulling out her own letter of acceptance. She had applied to the same university, except she was taking economics.

My smile grew wider. We would both be getting out of this neighborhood.

“Lovino! Agh!” Bella’s breath was taken out of her as I scooped her up into my arms, kicked open the front door, and paraded us both down the street in a full sprint. Nothing could stop me, sorry, us, now.

“We’re getting out of here, we’re really getting out of here!” I shouted.

We laughed and hooted, ignoring the confused looks of our neighbors. Some kids joined in just for the sake of it.

HONK!

I moved us to the side of the road and set Bella on her feet. “We won’t be getting out of here if you keep being reckless like that,” she scolded.

“Fuck me! I’m just excited, all right!? I have every right to. From now on, they’ll be no more bad in our life. We’ll make lives for ourselves. We’ll get out of here and never look back.”

I turned, and immediately burst out laughing when I spotted Grandpa standing at the front door in his bathrobe. He looked like a disgruntled suburban mom who hadn’t had her morning dose of Xanax.

“Okay,” I conceded. “I think I can warrant a visit or two on occasion.”

“Lovino,” Grandpa pouted.

“I’m coming, you old fart. Hang on.”

I then did something that I hadn’t done in fifteen years. I sprinted toward Grandpa and brought him into a hug, accidentally headbutting him in the process.

Four years of undergrad and then another three years of teachers’ college.

I could do this.

…

Seven years later

…

“I can do this,” I said with a forced grin on my face, setting down a box in the front room of my new apartment. “It’s not that bad.”

The one-bedroom apartment looked more like a hovel than a living space. I would have to call my landlord and give him a piece of my mind. It hadn’t been cleaned, nor were the carpets and flooring replaced like he had promised. Three teenagers had lived in here before me – the odorous smell, empty beer cans and smoke stains on the wall were most indicative of that. Thankfully, I wasn’t moving in today. I had only been given the key.

Bella bit her lip. “It could use a… bit of work. We’ll have to clean it before you move in. I mean, you could always just move in with me. The offer still stands.”

“No,” I sighed. “You know that I like to pay for my own things.” It was one thing if I had been contributing toward the rent. Either way, I liked having my own space.

“I know,” Bella smirked. “You’ve always been so stubborn. It’s almost endearing when you’re not on the receiving end of it,” she teased.

Bella’s apartment for the first two months had been paid for by her brother. She’s had trouble finding a job. Regardless, she was still pretty high maintenance. Drug money had given her many privileges. It wasn’t relying on her brother so much that bothered her, but rather, the money he was using to help her.

I had been lucky in that I had found a job pretty much right away. She was still searching for one.

“What can I say?” I shrugged. “I’ll live on Mr. Noodles and peanut butter for a few months, or years if I have to. I’m just starting. I have a job and my own place. What more can I ask for?”

“That’s right. Start small and end big,” Bella said.

“You’re such a baby,” I mused, reading right into her. “It’s not that bad. You don’t have to help me clean if you don’t want to. You look like you’ve just been asked to bathe in a dumpster. Wouldn’t want your pretty hands to get all smudged up anyway.”

Bella’s chest puffed up. “That’s what gloves are for! Grossed out as I am, I’m still going to help,” she furrowed her brows. “What’s that saying of yours again?”

“Which one?” I asked.

“You know,” Bella waved her hand. “It’s similar to when the going gets tough, you…”

“Ah,” I held up a finger. “Instead of letting fear and negativity rule your life, ‘Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.’ Adversity has nothing on you if you don’t let it. You just have to be patient and stubborn as a motherfucker if you want to succeed.”

“Yes! That! We’ll do that!” Bella exclaimed.

“That we will. Ugh,” I wrinkled my nose. “Let’s leave. This place reeks.”

Bella had already sought refuge in the outside hallway.

Other than cleaning the apartment, I didn’t have many problems to deal with. Like I said, I had a place, and I began my new job as a history teacher in two weeks.

Things were looking good.

…

“He’s so good looking!” Several female students cooed.

My tour guide, a young and recently-hired teacher himself, smirked.

“They think you’re cute,” Mr. Beilschmidt, or rather, Gilbert, chuckled. “That’s a good sign. The kids here aren’t usually this receptive to newbies. Took me a year and half before they finally warmed up to me. Several pranks later, and we’re cool now. Administration hates me for it, though. That’s another thing,” he mused, still speaking at a mile a minute. He was the type of person who liked the sound of his own voice.

“Watch out for that harpy in the office, Elizabeta,” Gilbert warned. “She’ll staple your fingers together if you get on her bad side. Trust me,” he shuddered, strange red eyes wide and unblinking as he appeared to recall something troublesome.

“Thanks for the advice,” I muttered.

When Gilbert wasn’t looking, I looked over my shoulder and teasingly raised my eyebrows at the pack of girls watching our every move by their lockers. I had a full smile in place.

“AHHHH~!” The female students squealed.

Gilbert took us in a lap around the bottom floor, teaching me the ins and the outs of where everything was. It was a giant school (more like an industrial complex), easily boasting 1000 students. It was high-end for a public school given that it was located far out in the suburbs. It would be costing me a fortune just to get here every day in gas.

“Well,” Gilbert clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we show you your floormies?!” This guy had way too much energy. It was ungodly to have his energy this early in the morning.

“Floormies?” I deadpanned.

“You know,” Gilbert grinned. “The peeps you’ll be teaching next to! Wait, do kids still say peeps these days?”

“They do not,” I stated, plainly.

“Yikes, I must be getting old.”

“Thirty isn’t that old,” I pointed out.

WHACK! My eyes bugged out as Gilbert clapped me on the back. “I have a feeling that we’re going to get along just fine, Vargas.” He then placed an arm around my shoulders, causing me to slump under the weight of it. Gilbert wasn’t tall, but he was considerably built for his size.

I held back a scowl. I just had to get through this one damn tour. I could always ignore him later if needed. I had a feeling that he would be the type of co-worker that drove everyone else nuts. Indeed, he seemed to be nuts himself.

“As I was saying!” Gilbert cut in roughly, quick to divert the subject away from his age. “You’ll be teaching in the Social Science wing. I’ll be down to the left teaching World Issues, Fran will to be to the right teaching Challenge and Change – a bullshit, useless course if you ask me, ahem– and Tonio will be right across from you teaching Anthropology; he’s the boring one of the bunch. Dude hasn’t been acquainted with the word fun for years…blah blah blah…another useless fact about myself…blah blah…” his voice droned on and on.

I stared blankly and continued to walk down the hall with Gilbert. I wanted to see my classroom, that’s what really mattered to me.

Gilbert took my silence the wrong way. “There’s no need to worry, Mr. Vargas, Lovino…Lo, can I call you that–?”

“–No.”

Gilbert didn’t take no for an answer. “We’ll all be chumps in no time, Lo. I have really good gut instincts, and I’m already quite fond of you.”

“Mmmm,” I replied. I had long stopped listening.

“Shit!” Gilbert jumped, removing his arm from my shoulders.

Perplexed, I turned to him in question. Gilbert’s eyes nervously flicked back and forth between his wristwatch and a clock hanging from the ceiling.

Abruptly, he grabbed my arm. “We need to go, now!” he commanded.

“Wait, why? I thought you going to show me my classroom?” I spluttered as Gilbert half-dragged me forward.

“There’s no time. The bell’s about to ring and I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to get caught up in the stampede. Those kids are feral animals when they’re hungry. Get between them and their lockers and you’re as good as dead.”

Next thing I knew, we were running at a full-sprint. A few teachers popped their heads out of their classrooms to scold us for causing a disturbance, but Gilbert paid them no heed.

“In ya go!” Gilbert shoved me forward.

I stumbled forward a few steps before catching my balance and looking up to realize that we were in the staffroom.

I checked my watch. “It’s 10:40,” I said. “I thought lunch started at 10:50?”

Gilbert burst out laughing. “Oops, sorry,” he apologized. “I’m dyslexic, so these kind of things happen sometimes. Well, I’m sure they won’t mind if we take an early lunch break. I had a spare this period anyway. Make yourself at home,” he heaved, gesturing about the room. “We have microwaves, ovens, and a full fridge stocked with food if you need.”

While Gilbert seated himself at a long table in the center of the room, I set about the kitchen and placed my Tupperware filled with pasta into a microwave. It wasn’t long before teachers began piling into the room. The haggard and fatigued expressions they wore made it seem like they had just come back from a battlefield.

Gilbert waved me over. “Lo, over here–”

I dropped my Tupperware and stared dead ahead. That couldn’t have been him, right? I was just tired and cranky. My mind was playing tricks on me.

They weren’t.

There was no replicating the way that his curls stood up in a tornado of mussed up synchrony, nor did anyone have green eyes quite as fluorescent as his.

Antonio was teaching here and went by “Tonio.”

When his eyes met mine, originally having looked over to see what had made the crashing sound, his lips parted open. He was older, seven years older to be exact, but he was still very much Antonio. His face and cheekbones were more defined, he wasn’t as lanky, and there were lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes from smiling. What was strange is that he looked like he hadn’t smiled in years judging by the absence of engagement in his gaze. There was something missing, but I couldn’t quite place it. How could I? I hadn’t spoken to him at all after our last fight.

“You!” I jabbed my finger at Antonio. He flinched.

Gilbert coughed awkwardly, looking back between the two of us. “Uh, do you two know each other…?” Antonio was frozen in place, staring at me without any subtlety. I wasn’t much better, glaring him down as if he were a fresh piece of meat. I was the truck, and he was the deer frozen in the middle of the road.

“You!” I repeated. The room quieted.

Antonio attempted to say something but nothing came out.

I drove forward. “You!” I said again. “Antonio Fernández–shitstain–Carriedo! Screw you and thank you for making me prove your ass wrong. I would have amounted to nothing if you hadn’t pushed my ass to do better. I owe a lot of where I am now to you, you douchebag!” I stopped, breathing heavily.

“I’m not the whiny entitled brat that you left anymore. I TOLD YOU, DIDN’T I? That I would make something out of myself? And now look at me, you bastard. Halle-fucking-lujah. You were wrong and I was right! HA! Look at me…what I did…I…I…”

Silence.

I looked around the room. Embarrassed, I recollected myself, blushing. “I…um, please e-excuse me.”

Shaking, I went over to pick up my fallen lunch – thankfully it was still intact, and left the staff room. I didn’t know where to go, but I sure as hell couldn’t have stayed there after pulling what I just did. Way to go Lovino. It’s your first day and you probably already just got your ass fired…

Gilbert whooped after me as I left. “Wowee! That guy’s got passion! That was freaking awesome!” Younger teachers laughed in agreement, whereas the older ones remained still in a stunned silence.

“You should probably go check on him, Gil.”

“You’re right, Fran,” Gilbert stood up. It was his turn to jab a finger at Antonio, who had yet to move from his position. He had become one with the floor. “You could learn something from him, Tonio, whatever the heck your guys’ history is. He’s got spunk and takes risks.”

“Ay…”

“See, what did I say? BORING!”

…

“Bye Mr. Vargas~!”

The classroom door clicked shut, and I just about collapsed at my desk when I knew that no one could hear me.

“Fuck,” I whispered. I had taught for two periods straight, only to come out of it feeling like I had just stood in court for ten hours. “I did it.”

I didn’t get fired for my earlier stunt either, that was also a bonus.

“Well, let’s get the hell out of here.” Knowing Bella, she’d be waiting at my apartment door, wanting to know how my first day on the job went.

Nonplussed from the ups and downs I had experienced today, I slowly began gathering my things. I was still jittery and my fingers clumsily knocked over a holder filled with pens.

“Need some help?” Antonio asked.

“AH!” I screamed and jumped back. “DON’T DO THAT YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE TO BE CREPT UP ON!”

I faltered. What I had just said had come out without any filter in place. It was as if we had picked up where we had last left off, rather than me avoiding him for seven years.

Antonio smiled guiltily and scratched the back of his head, nervous. “I know,” he said. “I did as well.”

I swallowed heavily. I couldn’t look at him and instead resorted to focusing on cleaning up the pens.

“So,” I began, “You work here?”

“For two years, yes,” Antonio answered. “And now you do too… everyone already loves you, so I wouldn’t worry about…”

I looked up, lips curled slightly. “…me throwing a fit like a total maniac?” I finished.

“Yes, I mean no!” Antonio protested vehemently, hastily correcting himself. “It was warranted.”

I put the last pen in the holder and straightened. Antonio followed.

This time, I met his eyes directly, only to pinpoint what was missing in him. There was no more passion in his gaze. It was like life had taken Antonio’s eagerness, sucked it up, only to spout it out again and smother itself across his face into something that would never quite capture his prior vibrant countenance.

“I’m still sorry,” I apologized. “That was completely unprofessional of me.”

“Don’t,” Antonio shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Not after what I did. I came here to do that.”

I let out a deep breath. “I’m listening.” We were standing parallel to each other, myself on one side of the desk, and him on the other.

“Ay, you still have that same old look,” Antonio murmured. “It burns right into you.”

“Get on with it, you bastard,” I snapped.

“Right, sorry. I just wanted to say that you were right, about everything pretty much. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, although I realize it now. I was selfish to break things off with you like that. You weren’t perfect, sure, but anyone could have seen the effort you were making. You were always stubborn like that. It’s what made me so jealous of you.”

“Me?” I spluttered.

“Yes,” Antonio said firmly. “You. You used to say that you admired how I could remain so positive in life, but it was all a farce. But you, you were real. No matter the circumstances, you were able to push through the negative. Meanwhile, all I could do was focus on what I didn’t have and lost what really mattered…

“I had my whole life ahead of me, I was going to be a professional soccer player for God’s sake. When that was taken from me, I panicked. I fled like a coward and who knows how much pain I caused you. Lovino, words can’t describe how sorry I am for doing that to you. It’s one of my biggest regrets.”

“It’s fine,” I mumbled.

“No, it’s not,” Antonio inhaled sharply. “It really isn’t, especially with our last fight. You saw right through my bullshit, and I resented you for it. I wanted to start over, except I couldn’t get you off my mind. I was supposed to be focusing on my grades but drank and hooked-up to forget about you. I was a hypocrite. I flunked through my whole first semester, you know that?”

“You lied?” I asked, incredulous.

“I did. I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure. I also didn’t want you to think that I still loved you.”

“But you did.”

“I did,” Antonio repeated. “I really, truly did. It was never really about your friendship with Alfred. I didn’t like the way that he looked at you and was insecure that you would leave me for him. I didn’t want you to look at me as if I were broken.”

“So you had to break me in the process?”

“…” Antonio remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” I blinked several times. “Wow, fuck. This is a lot to process. Can I just ask you one thing?”

“Of course, anything,” Antonio replied, eyes wide.

“You really didn’t see me as someone to fuck around with?”

“No! No! Never!” Antonio waved his hands frantically.

“Okay.” I believed him. It’s funny how subjective one’s own reality can be. You accept it as fact until proven otherwise. And here I thought that I had known him so well.

“I’m sorry too. I was pretty immature about the whole thing. I didn’t have to call you all those names and bring up the accident either. Oh, and apology accepted,” I reached out to shake hands with Antonio. “The past is the past and I’m more than willing to move on if you are.”

Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.

“Definitely.” Antonio clasped my hand in his. The hand shake lasted longer than expected.

“So, how have you been?” I asked.

“All right, I guess,” Antonio shrugged. “I don’t do much other than teach and go home.”

“Yikes, sounds boring.”

“It is…” Antonio winced. “I must seem so pathetic to you.” I ignored that comment.

I looked down to see spot a pack of cigarettes sticking out from the front pocket of his jeans. “You smoke now?”

“Yeah,” Antonio admitted regretfully. “You don’t?”

“I haven’t since the last time I promised you.”

“Oh.”

“Well, well, well,” I crossed my arms. “The tables have turned, Carriedo.”

“Ay,” Antonio chuckled. “I think that’s enough about me. How have things been with you? How’s your family?”

“Good. Feliciano’s in Germany. He just opened up a studio there, and Grandpa? He’s just old, like really old.”

“You’re still harsh on him,” Antonio laughed.

“It’s part of my charm. Brutal honesty.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Antonio snorted. “Are you leaving now?”

Silence.

My eyes narrowed.

“Did you just lick your lips at me?” I accused.

Antonio blushed. “N-no?”

“Oh my God, you did.”

“I didn’t!”

“You SO DID!” I said, exasperated.

“I was just going to ask you if you wanted to walk out of the school together.”

“Oh,” I snickered. “Honey, hell to the no. Not in your damned dreams and certainly not after what you pulled on me. You haven’t earned that yet. You’re going to have to do a lot of work before we can become friends again.”

A fire ignited in Antonio’s eyes. “Fair enough. Just know that I’m a sore loser.”

“Trust me, I know,” I scoffed. “I have a talent for attracting stupidity.”

Antonio grinned smugly. “Are you coming?”

“What part of no, don’t you understand? I’ll walk myself out, now out,” I pointed at the door.

If Antonio was a dog, his before wagging tail would now be plastered between his legs. “Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow…Mr. Vargas…”

“That’s what I thought, fucker.”

Like I said, he hadn’t earned anything from me yet.

I smiled, proud of myself. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

Boy, was I ever wrong.

Satisfied, I pulled out my agenda.

-Work on your relationship with the bastard Antonio

…

Two and a half years later.

…

My entire face twitched.

One lecture. I’d just like to get through one lecture without losing my shit on the idiotic trio that were my ‘floormies.’

BANG!

Antonio was on a spare and took this time to annoy the absolute hell out of me.

I sighed.  The class remained silent, knowing that now was not the time to test my nerves. “Ahem, as I was saying, the Romans were notorious for their–”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Mr. Vargas, should I shut the door?” Mei asked.

“Yes, just give me a moment.” Angrily, I stormed over to my desk, flung open a drawer, pulled out a tennis ball, and hurled it out of the room. I didn’t bother to look. It was all done on instinct at this point.

The faded “Ay!” told me that I had hit my mark. I knew exactly where Antonio’s desk was located.

“You can shut the door now,” I smiled at Mei.

As expected Antonio wasn’t done with me just yet.

The lecture continued smoothly for another half hour with no interruptions. Gilbert’s shouts as he taught could still be heard through the walls, but everyone was already long used to this.

Allen raised his hand. “Mr. Vargas, can I go to the washroom?”

I nodded my head. “Sure. Oh, and tell Mr. Carriedo that if he doesn’t watch it, I’m going to hammer his thick head to the wall.”

“…Okay…” Allen gave me a strange look before slinking out of the classroom.

When Allen came back, it was my turn to give him a strange look.

I stopped the lecture again. “What is that?” I asked him.

“What’s what?” Allen asked innocently, too innocently. He was holding a red plastic cup in his hand. He stood cockily in front of the class, trying his best not to laugh.

“The cup in your hand,” I stated dryly, on the verge of losing my patience.

“Oh, that. I don’t know,” Alfred shrugged.

Resigned, I moved on.

Two minutes later, another demon asked to go to the washroom. Unsurprisingly, they too came back with a red plastic cup.

Instead of answering my question, Yong Soo grinned and pranced back to his seat.

The pile of students leaving the classroom and coming back with those same damned cups was becoming uncanny. It was all my undoing, really. I hated saying no to kids.

“Matthew,” I just about pleaded. “Not you too.”

Matthew avoided eye contact. “Sorry,” I’m pretty sure he whispered.

Enough was enough. I wrenched open the classroom door and barged into Antonio’s classroom.

The lazy bastard was sprawled over his leather chair, feet arrogantly kicked up on his desk. “Why are you giving my students empty cups?”

Antonio smirked. “Well, I had to get your attention somehow.” Leave it to him to come up with a prank as lame and irrational as this.

“I’m teaching, you dumbass!” I hissed in a whisper. “Don’t you have anything better or productive to do, like, oh, I don’t know, grading the papers that were handed in to you three weeks ago?!”

“…That’s not nice, Lovi,” Antonio pouted.

“And causing me to get behind on my lecture material isn’t?” I retorted and then slapped a hand on his desk.

Antonio met me head on, leaning forward. “What can I say,” he mused. “Driving you nuts is my passion. Grading, not so much.”

“Fine, whatever. Can you at least explain to me why you used cups of all things?”

“I’m taking over your classroom.”

“What?” I deadpanned.

“You know, a cup d’etat.”

I turned on my heels. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“WAIT, LOVI!”

I slammed Antonio’s classroom door shut.

…

SLAM!

Two hours after school ended, I packed up my things and made to leave.

I soon found myself pinned against a row of lockers outside in the hallway. Two red cups rested near both sides of my head. Antonio stood in front of me, a devilish smirk on his face.

“You’re still smug about that stupid-ass prank, aren’t you?” I sighed. “Let it go, bastard. Let it go.”

“Come on,” Antonio whined. “It was funny!”

“You’re so lame,” I rolled my eyes.

“Agreed,” Gilbert shouted from his classroom. The freak, albeit insane, was extremely regimented and organized. He normally stayed back for several hours to plan his lessons before going home.

“See,” I chuckled. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if we stopped playing hostage.”

“Lovinoooo,” Antonio whined again. “I’m trying to have a sexy moment here.”

“And so we’re back to this again,” I muttered, looking down. “You don’t know when to give up, do you? God, you’re stupid.”

“You’ve already said that several times. And of course not. I’ll keep trying until I win you back, no matter how many years it takes.”

“It’s not my problem that you can’t handle rejection.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” Antonio murmured softly, lowering his hands and gracelessly letting the cups fall to the floor with a bang. “You’re enjoying this, don’t lie.”

“What can I say?” I mocked Antonio. “I have a habit of attracting stupidity in my life.”

“But what about me? I’m both stupid and attractive. Are you attracted to me?”

I tilted up my chin. “Not exactly what I was getting at, but I’ll willing to let it slide. At least you’re self-aware.”

“So…?” Antonio asked expectantly with bated breath. He must have picked up on the fact that something was different this time. There was a spark where they hadn’t been one before.

“Yes, I’m attracted to you,” I admitted grudgingly. “Guess that must make me stupid too.”

Antonio cocked his head to the side. “Just out of curiosity, what made you finally change your mind?”

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t fooled around,” I pointed out. “Does the equipment room at lunch ring any bells to you?”

“Yes, but you’ve never admitted to it. You always brush me off. What now, what’s different?” Antonio asked eagerly.

A pause.

“Sweetheart?”

I raised myself onto my tippy-toes and brushed my lips against his. “You’ve proven your honesty to me, stupid. If you’ve waited this long, then who am I to hold you hostage?”

“Oh,” Antonio’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” It wasn’t long before Antonio got over his daze to reciprocate and deepen the kiss. Everything about this felt right. The heat of his breath, raking my hand through his muss of curls, his hands on my waist, my hand on his chest…everything. It was raw; real;familiar.

“No problem.”

-The End

[hosseocc]

Accidental Potion || Part One

Summary: Shy and clumsy Minseok is tired of crushing from afar, so he decides to make a move…with magic. I mean, what could go wrong?

Word count: 1834

Pairing: Minseok x reader

Genre: fluff, future angst

Warnings: none

a/n:: clearly i’m better at reading fluff than actually writing it but ..... i wanted to give it a try so here you go x

(Not my gif, credits to owner!)———————————————————————–

‘Come on, you can do this’ Minseok muttered to himself, for what felt like the fifth time in that split second. He was pacing back and forth contemplating if what he was about to do was worth it, whether he could handle the consequences or not. Of course, they could be dire and ruin everything he’s ever wanted in life, but you never know unless you try right? After the same amount of debating it would take for a toddler to choose between candy or veggies, he concluded that there was no more time left to be nervous because the bus had arrived. It was finally time to make his move.

He sat down on the bench behind him and began rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans as he watched the bus slowly come to a halt and stop further down to his left. Moving his right hand down to reach into his right pocket, he slowly pulled out a small glass vial and stared down at it. The contents of the small bottle held something invisible to the human eye, but to him it screamed beauty. Sparks of baby pink and silver swam around inside, reflecting a bright sparkle in his eyes. He felt a warmth pass through him, which only convinced him even more that his was where his happiness would finally begin. He already knew it was made for him, but the smell was just right. An unfamiliar wave of sweetness and comfort surrounded him that he had never felt before, but he never wanted it to leave. When making it, Junmyeon didn’t forget to emphasise the amount of care and effort he had put into getting his hands on the finest roses and jasmines for this potion for him, so he knew it would be perfect.

Looking back up to the bus, he watched as the doors opened, and the passengers started walking out. After the third person exited, he finally saw her. Although her face was painted with a scowl and she looked nothing short of stressed and annoyed, he still thought she was beautiful. Minseok’s mind flashed back to the last time he saw Si-Yeon before summer had started. They were sitting opposite each other at the local hangout with their group of friends, celebrating the end of exams and the start of a long summer. They didn’t really speak much, she was more a friend of a friend but nonetheless treated him with the same respect. He fell for her straight away and cherished every single one of the shy glances they shared from across the table, when it felt like just them two in a room full of loud shouting over drinks and snacks. Being too afraid to make his move, he decided his next best bet was magic. Which brought him to where he is now. 

Just as she was about to reach the last step, Minseok readied himself by fixating his gaze and mind on her and opening the lid to the glass. The scented sparkles that flew out of the tiny potion swirled past him and straight towards her, by the command of his gentle blow into the vial. The colours stood out perfectly against the sunny spring morning, and only he was able to appreciate its beauty. His content and longing didn’t last for more than 10 seconds though because as his crush felt around her pockets for a phone that wasn’t there, she suddenly cursed under her breath and quickly spun back around and ran into the bus.

With the potion still dancing along the cool breeze towards her, he didn’t know what was going to happen. This wasn’t part of the plan. His watchful eyes squinted, and his right leg started tapping against the floor again in a panic, when Si-yeon bumped into the girl behind her, not bothering to say sorry and sprinting back to her seat. If there was anything Minseok expected to happen at this point, it was that the potion would follow her into the bus and hit her. It could have been a possibility. It could have happened. But it didn’t. 

>>>>><<<<<

You felt annoyance rise in you as the girl in front who seemed utterly pissed the entire journey bumped your shoulder and seemed to forget her manners. You scoffed and shook your head as you made your way down the last steps of the bus and your feet touched the ground. The main thing on your mind was coffee and a warm doughnut at this point, so you told yourself to forget the minor inconvenience to your already dreadful morning. As you let the cool breeze awaken you, your mind tried to follow the smells coming from the coffee shop down the road, but your senses were suddenly met with a sweeter, stronger smell. 

Walking to your left when your subconscious knew you should be going right, where the coffee shop was, it felt as if your brain had almost been switched off and someone invisible was tickling your nose with a feather. Completely surrendering to the new smell, you carried on walking until you came to a stop in front of a wall. 

‘A wall?’  you thought, ‘What am I doing standing in front of a wall when I could be drinking a steaming hot coffee right now?’

It all seemed to make sense a couple of seconds later though, as your eyes were drawn towards the vine of roses and jasmines growing up the left side of the wall surrounding a bench. The deep red and bright white colours blended beautifully together against the luscious green growing out in every direction. Never having seen roses and jasmines grow together before, you felt fixated on the creation in front of you as the smell intoxicated you even further, almost driving you mad you swore you could almost taste it. It felt like your head was clearing and the mid may weather was blessing you with the opportunity to throw your thoughts away for once to really appreciate the world around you

But the flowers weren’t the only things you would be appreciating that day. As your eyes trailed left, you met the eyes belonging to somebody sitting on the bench. They were staring at you, messy black hair with strands falling above the lens of his round glasses, protecting his wide eyes. He sat there, mouth agape as you took in his appearance, somehow knowing this situation was the weirdest you have ever been in whilst for some reason trying to convince yourself that it just felt right. To you, his startled posture on the bench was glowing more than the radiant flowers behind him. You were sure this is what it meant to fall in love at first sight. 

Still under the control of the intoxicating smell, you found yourself slowly sat down next to his still silent self. You didn’t know why you were doing this and you were fearing that you looked like an absolute freak right now. But you did it anyway, because all of a sudden, your brain was telling you everything is now right with the world. 

>>>>><<<<<

Minseok was so sure nothing could go wrong with the potion and that Si-Yeon would be in his arms by now. He was so, so sure. Of course, by now he should be used to the fact that life can be a bitch and completely mock you at times. If he didn’t know it before, he sure does now. The feeling of dread he felt as he sat shocked, watching the potion swim around you and not the one it was intended for, sat heavier in his stomach than anything ever has before. He’s known to be sometimes clumsy and nervous with potions, and by now he’s used to cleaning up his mess but the solution to this situation was nowhere in sight.

‘I can’t believe I just used a love potion on the wrong person’ was the only thought circulating his mind. He couldn’t conjure up any words because how could he even begin to explain this situation to the unsuspecting, innocent human in front of him?

When she began speaking, he knew he was in deep, deep trouble. 

>>>>><<<<<

‘Hi, my name’s y/n, what’s yours?’ she introduced herself, with a bright smile.

You felt like a complete idiot right now, with no way to stop what you were doing. You’ve never been the first one to approach a guy so why now? You were literally drawn to him and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Minseok heard her question whilst remembering about Si-Yeon and looking back at the bus only to see her walking off in the opposite direction. He sighed and turned back to face you. 

‘I’m so sorry’ he spluttered, adjusting the glasses on his face, not knowing what else to say.

You simply giggled and replied, ‘Well its nice to meet you, I’m so sorry’.

‘So now I’m giggling like a school girl and attempting dad jokes?’ you asked your mind in disbelief.

Minseok forced himself to avoid cringing at your poor attempt at flirting, clearly the potion had some adverse effects. Wanting to confirm his fears of the potion working a little too well, he asked you a question.

‘What made you come over here?’ 

Not really sure of the answer yourself, you answered with the first thing that came to your mind, ‘I, uh, don’t know how else to say this but…it felt like the roses and jasmines were calling me and leading me to you…’ You almost kicked yourself for saying something that sounded so absurd, you would run away if someone had ever said it to you. But he didn’t run away, he remained in the same position, once again staring at you in silence. 

Minseok was really rendered speechless for the first time in his life. Your response was all the proof he needed to confirm Junmyeon’s potion had really worked. He was really beginning to wish Junmyeon had made a mistake of some kind, but with his skills and perfectionism he knew it could never be a possibility. He figured that going along with it until he informed the others of the problem was the only thing he could at this point.

To your surprise, he smiled back at you, and offered his hand, ‘I’m Minseok’.

You reached your hand out to accept his greeting and your hands almost touched, when you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. Apologising to Minseok with a sheepish smile, you quickly pulled it out of your bag and when you saw who was calling, your entire mood shifted.  You let your extended hand drop in your lap before bringing it up to run through your hair.

‘Shit’ you muttered through a frustrated sigh.

How can you be so infatuated with a complete stranger that you completely forgot you already had a boyfriend?

[floral--femme]

This is probably just a British person complaining, but I hate when people say it's a nice day just because it's hot and sunny. I don't like it; I only have black clothing, I'm fat and I sweat really easily. I end up worrying people because I don't tend to walk in a straight line from my autism.

I feel you! I mostly just like summer because my depression has some kind of seasonal aspect to it. The weather might not necessarily be nice, but I feel better than I do during the winter regardless.

Of course, my tolerance for the heat is also a lot better than my cold tolerance. I’m usually good up until around the mid 90s (F) but the second it drops below like, 55, my mood is ruined and everything is horrible. But that’s just me!

[blacknihilism-blog1]

1. have you ever been in love?

Yes. Twice. 

2. what are your favourite colours and why?

Black/Red. I love Black because it can typically match with any other colors and usually makes for dope color schemes. I also like darker colors more for some reason. I love bright colors as well but I’ve found that I don’t like to wear them too much or get them on items that I use often

3. who was the last person you held hands with?

If I ever hold hands it’s platonic considering I havent been in a relationship in 10 months lol. So probably one of my friends. 

4. what is your zodiac sign?

Taurus

5. how many times have you read your favourite book?

Honestly I dont know any books that were so good to me that I read it multiple times. I don’t read as often as I like.

6. what are your favourite films?

I don’t really have a lot of “favorites”. Any time I’m asked for a favorite *blank* my mind draws a blank lol.

7. what kind of weather do you like?

I love rainy weather. I love cold weather. But I don’t like cold rainy weather. At least not if i’m outside.

8. do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

I like sunsets. Although I love to see any transition of the sun whether it be rising or setting, since I love the night time I love to see it go from a beautiful range of colors to darkness rather than a beautiful range of colors into lots of sunshine.

9. what kind of weather represents who you are as a person?

Murky rain. But out in the corner of the sky u can see a huge ray of sunshine.

10. what’s your favourite animal?

I love dogs

11. what is your favourite song right now?

“Get You” by Daniel Caesar

12. what is your favourite song of all time?

Oof what did I say about favorites?

13. do you like sunny days or rainy days better?

I absolutely love rainy days unless I have to do a lot of driving.

14. have you ever been heartbroken?

Yes

15. what does the perfect kiss feel like?

I think the perfect kiss is less about the physical kiss and moreso with the perfect person at the perfect time. As in the kiss that signifies marriage or whatever. I think that’s what the perfect kiss feels like. The realization that with this kiss, you are promising to always love and care for whoever you’re kissing.

16. what is your favourite poem?

Eh

17. who are you most inspired by?

I don’t have much inspiration as of right now. In the past it was Childish Gambino but currently I’m just eh.

18. are you spiritual?

I have an appreciation for some spiritual studies and practices but personally I’m not too spiritual. 

19. what is your favourite plant?

lmfao weed

20. what is your favourite feeling?

Being in love and content with life.

21. what is your favourite word?

Fuck

22. are you an artist?

I don’t really make any art. I’ve made a few songs and I wanna get into poetry and video making. But I don’t know if my current level of confidence allows me to call myself an artist.

23. what is your favourite flower?

Bud

24. are you happy?

Not genuinely but I have my moments.  

25. what are you thinking about right now?

Honestly I’m thinking about someone. I wish I wasn’t just because I don’t like thinking about people who don’t want me in the same way that I want them. All that does is create pain and I rather avoid feeling that confusing feeling that is love. I mean if the love was returned then it’s great but who knows, Maybe it’s better if we aren’t together. We can only let time tell.

26. what emotion do you feel most often?

Confusion/Regret. In my head I’m always trying to avoid conflict/making someone feel any sort of negative emotion. And any time I make a mistake i regret everything. And I’m always feeling confusion because I never know how I can really improve who I am as a person. 

27. what is your favourite season?

Winter. I love cold weather. TMI but honestly I sweat too much to be comfortable during any hot season. And I’m a very affectionate person so I cant hug people as much during the summer. During the winter I’m always loving on my friends lol. Plus if you’re in a relationship, those “cold-outside-but-cuddling-inside” days are lovely.

28. are you in a relationship?

No. Honestly outta nowhere like yesterday or two days ago I realized that I had some strong feelings for someone I’m close to and dated in the past. I started talking about if we were dating and I just moved way too fast. I regretted everything i said instantly and just played it off as whatever. In the moments following her telling me that I’m moving too fast I was just snapped back to reality and decided I needed to calm myself down. Looking back I did seem crazy. But it’s been so long since i had any feelings for anybody (to the point that I’d date them) and I just got excited if im going to be real. And I was also sick at the time so I’m just laying in bed picturing me with them and it seemed like we could work really well together. But it’s okay. I’m just gonna take my time. I don’t know whether I should move on or pursue her at a slower pace. So for now I’m just gonna be big chillin.

29. are you an introvert or extrovert?

Introvert. Unless it’s really some people I’m comfortable with I’m pretty timid. Even with out with some of my closest friends I’d rather just be home. 

30. do you prefer the moon or the stars?

The stars. There’s this street not too far from my friends house and me and him have driven down it a few times now. When you’re on this street, if you turn off your headlights and look up the sky has very little light pollution and it’s beautiful. The moon is rarely close enough for me to enjoy. 

31. what is your favourite scent?

I love the smell of a lot of different foods. But looking back, my favorite smell used to be the perfume that my girlfriend constantly used. I ran into one person who used the same one as her some time after we broke up and for lack of a better term, it triggered lots of memories of her. But I used to love it. Not because the scent was so good, but rather because I was in love with her and everything about her.

32. where do you feel most at home?

In my room. I used to have these black bags over my window which allowed very little light into my room and as I said earlier, I prefer darkness. But I took those down recently as a metaphorical enlightenment and symbol for how my life was headed in a brighter, more positive direction. It sort of works, but mainly I love my room because at night time I’m never bothered. And it seems like a safe space. At 2 a.m. in my room, I’m alone. My parents won’t call me for random tasks, teachers can’t pester me about random assignments, and I can just do whatever I want.

33. what scares you the most?

Honestly the last time i was seriously afraid of something, I was afraid that I had caused some major damage to someone I trust and love. So I’m terrified of hurting other people. I’ve seen so many people be hurt by so many things. I never want to see myself become the source of someone’s terror.

34. do you believe in soulmates?

God knows I do. But honestly something about soulmates that I always question is the setting of a pair of soulmate’s birth. For example, what if you weren’t born in the same location and/or time period as your soulmate. If it’s just the location, you can roam the Earth and possibly meet them if your lucky. But if you never leave your hometown, in my opinion your soulmate probably isn’t born in your hometown. I think you need to explore to find them. And I hate to be pessimistic, but i think that you aren’t guaranteed to meet your soulmate, if they do exist. So the vast majority of people don’t meet them. But I hate thinking like that. It puts me in a very nihilistic point of view.

35. what is your favourite thing about yourself?

I try hard to spread love and positivity. I have so much love in my heart.

36. what is the nicest compliment you’ve received?

Honestly i dont know. 

37. who is your favourite music artist?

Childish Gambino. I had a huge Gambino phase during early high school. I connected to a lot of his music and his personality that was portrayed through different interviews. He was mysterious to me because he doesnt use social media and just keeps to himself a lot. But I like “Camp” because i felt like a lot of that music was relatable to a “White, Black Kid” which was something i struggled a lot with in middle school. I’m fully black but people called me “white” due to my behavior. Which was basically not enforcing black stereotypes. And due to peer pressure I took on the role of the “White, Black Kid” or the “Oreo” (Black on the outside and white on the inside). 

38. what was your first kiss like?

It was for my 14th birthday. Looking back on it, it was a mess because I was hella insecure at the time. I was just nervous and asked like 3 times which ruined the mood. I was just surprised that someone wanted to kiss me period. But it was at an ice skating rink for my birthday. It was just me and a bunch of friends but I was “talking” to this girl at the time. Basically we went sit on the other side of the rink and was just talking. All my other friends were trying to look at us which also didnt help my insecurity/bad nerves. But I did it. And i was so happy for the following few days lol.

39. are you a sensitive person?

Tbh, probably. I’m very open to criticism but I also get hurt fairly easily.

40. when was the last time you cried?

A few days ago. Either out of pain from my tooth or heart ache whenever I was first told to slow it down with the girl i was into. Ik its silly to cry over something that small but idk. I’m just being honest and letting yall know the last time i cried. 

41. do you believe that love can last forever?

Yeah. That’s the kind of love I want. I want to take some time and enjoy my teenage years but then fall in love with one person and i want to be with that one person forever. I just dont trust enough people to think that we’d last forever tho. That’s why I don’t get into relationships too often. I won’t get into a relationship if I don’t see me and that person lasting. 

42. what do you think happens to us when we die?

I’m not too spiritual but I wouldn’t be surprised if Heaven and Hell existed. I’m way too simpleminded to try and comprehend what lies in the afterlife though. 

43. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Sadly. I cried hard as hell myself afterwards tbh.

44. what do you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night?

I’m not sure if this question is asking what thoughts keep me up, or what thoughts put me to sleep. A lot of thoughts keep me up. But it’s not the thoughts themselves, but rather my inability to sleep. I don’t have insomnia but usually if i’m up, I’m up because i don’t want to go to sleep, or im in some sort of discomfort/pain thats keeping me up. And sometimes I don’t go to sleep because I’m texting someone and either im hoping we can have an “interesting” convo or i just wanna stay up and talk to em. And lately either being sick, or my unattended dental problems keep me up.

45. do you believe in aliens?

Okay, lets be honest. As big as space is, you expect me to believe that we’re the only living beings? Yeah okay. Sure. Lol

46. what is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

My friend brought me medicine at work and lord knows I was so grateful because I was seriously struggling. It’s not the nicest but goddamn did I appreciate it.

47. do you find it hard to trust?

I find it hard to trust somebody with my heart. As in I don’t trust many people enough to date them. I’m actually very open which can be a good or a bad thing depending on how you look at it. I see it as good because I feel that it makes me pretty approachable. But it’s bad because I leave myself susceptible to getting hurt by being open.

[personsofnote]

3. Math Kid, Soldier

I became radicalized during the summer of my junior year, I was seventeen years old. At the time I was on academic exchange in Northern England, conducting research of minor importance on the pretense of scientific giftedness. My brilliant peers have pruned my confidence, so I stumped and sulked in the coldish air. I could not communicate properly with my advisor, a loving Frenchman who is battling for tenure, because he does not care for mathematical terms in English. Decidedly, I wanted to exploit what was left in my life, so I began to take walks in the diagonal of the college campus. The campus being a perfect square with hundred-meter sides, the diagonal was the only radical path in the campus square, and on my morning walks I often encounter Taki. I have been meaning to make friends with her, for I found her the least miserable and anxious out of all my peers. Soon I learnt that Taki will not joke around with me, but she meant all the best and would gladly talk about any scientific topic. The formality and rigor of our friendship is surprising, but certainly welcome.

I had just began writing my exposition in mathematics, when I became one with the symbology. When I began what my advisor called my projet petite, I wished to find an analog of the spiral of Theodorus in complex numbers. The plenitude of radicals signs, half-bent roofs over numbers, reminded me of the temporary nature of our lives. I thought about the sick and dying in nursing homes, including, perhaps, distant members of my own family that I was too preoccupied to know by name. Presently, I began to see all numbers as ugly and writhing in skeleton and flesh. Although only ten basic forms existed, the infinitude of naturals, integers, rationals, and reals were allelic for the finite mess of ways to be human. I was shaken and endeared, and I was unable to sleep, and I kept making correlations. For example, the number seventeen over thirteen is a newborn from Singapore born in the hospital of this very university, and the number six point five five is my dear advisor. The ubiquitous e, I felt, was simply the blue-collar worker. I had read about these types of people on Facebook, the crockpots who claim they see through mathematics into universal truth. I had never doubted their madness — for mathematics is only one pathetic language among many — but upon my vision I feared becoming one of them. To forge a personal, almost familial relationship to symbology was the first sign of my radicalization, but I denied it to be a symptom. After writing two more pages of my exposition, I was convinced that my logical faculties remained unclouded despite my vision. I decided against telling Taki, for I was sure she would take it as a joke, and I feared losing her friendship. For the next week I indulged in my vision whenever possible, writing down a summary at the end of the day for the pairings I have produced. The most significant were: the constant pi for refugees, migrants and people in movement, the number zero for Ethiopian women who live to be eighty years old, the number one for an Austrian violinist turned Tibetan monk, and the number three hundred forty two point six five for myself. After performing a preliminary bivariate test, the correlation between location, gender, or occupation and the nature of the numbers were perfectly random. Complex numbers were surprisingly absent from my vision, perhaps because they were the subject of my thesis. My writing was uncannily successful, and I finished my exposition a week ahead of time.

My conversations with Taki slowed my deterioration. We took to sitting on the donated bench after our morning stroll, although we walked in opposite directions. I did not care for her iPod and the classical music within it, but we discussed amicably over scientific ideas that we both understood. The dead fairy godfather of our park bench is one William Shortstorm, who apparently lived a very fruitful forty six years and was survived by his widow Edith. As a Southeast Asian I was unaccustomed to the nuanced mood of the climate, the paradoxically sunny coldness of a British summer. The English was fond of discussing the weather, and I found it justified. The personable gusts accompanied our conversation with equal gusto, and its waking strength reminded me of the youth in Taki’s life and my own. It had not crossed my mind to apply my vision to Taki and assign a number to her. Our friendship was short-lived, and by the end of the program we despised to see each other.

My doomed epiphany came the night before the submission of my exposition. Per my kind advisor’s request, I would read over my writing one more time and make sure that all notation is correct and sound. This fated task, it would seem, sealed the second coming of my inexplicable vision. Performing mathematics, for me, had become emotionally difficult. Although I was able to write down my calculus exercises without question, upon rereading these pages of numbers I was rendered helpless by my visions. The crass pages of my hasty exercises became intricate sketches of central train stations, where all walks of life came to share the misery of waiting. To have all sorts of numbers huddled so close to each other, such kaleidoscopic characters at once! It was difficult to not infer relationships between these people, even for a logical person such as myself. To this end it dawned on me that the mathematical notation represented relationships, not in the sociofamilial sense but in the emotive sense; as a summary of feelings between these number-people. Thus the rereading of my exposition became the disastrous peripeteia of my self-evidently trivial life. I stared at the multitude of radical symbols down the page. It resembled the check sign, as were the German blank cheques given to Austria a century ago, as were all likely struggles between true and false from computers to statehoods to exercise papers like my own. The undiscriminating stoicism of this open symbol, reducing and sheltering whoever comes its way, the same monk, the same privileged children, save the negative numbers — those who refuse to accept who they are. In time, I too, became sheltered under a radical symbol of my own, and I saw how absolutely correct it was. My own square root — could they be my children? Oh, I did not mind, whoever they were — my own square root crawled and seeded within my chest. An immense sense of insecurity and pity came over me: to be sheltered, to be loved, to be cared! — Yet so many could not afford it in this world. For the global capitalist machine had hijacked these numbers and symbology for its own benefit, just as its sentience had robbed life of its meaning. I realized that the precise ingenuity of capitalism was that it used mathematics to eliminate the very truth represented by mathematics. Capitalism, with its monstrous sentience, imposed its own truth upon these number-people, so that mathematical symbology no longer hold meaning beyond the pecuniary for people; for people who are numbers themselves. Truth is no longer truth when truth convinces itself of another truth. I identified it at once: that to eliminate this kidnapper of mathematics was the only means to global emancipation, the only means by which numbers could mean themselves again. Capitalism was an invisible enemy, for it existed around and beyond mathematics but not within mathematics itself. For us, it would mean organized resistance, it would mean armed resistance, it would mean theory-writing and interpretation of Marx and Goldman and Bakunin. Already I am in ruins and shudders. I have not known these names before — I do not understand who they are, save for the numbers they represented. Yet I had never been surer of the next step forward. The radical sign told me to leave mathematics at once: the language of truth had done all it could for me and this world. But my radicalization was not yet complete — as such, nothing is truly complete until it has been set in action.

Impassioned by my newfound mission, I found its actual execution beyond difficult. I could not leave the program, which drags on for one more week; among the daily science lectures and exercises I had emerged as one of the more hopeless of my peers. Taki’s academic standing is mediocre amidst these geniuses, although still above me nonetheless. Yet she does not look down on me: she had asked me to check the calculations in her exposition on astrophysics. But I found that I could no longer complete tasks as simple as these. After taking her pencilled notes and printed exposition back to my room (with plenty airy dandelions on the way, the wind still cold but embracing), I read over it carefully. But I could not edit it — I began to cry. I have not seen any scene as tragic as this — an entire people, an entire people of diversity and voluptuous history, subjecting themselves to suigenocide in defiance of — well, of Taki’s treatment of them. Why does she subjugate mother to son and invert families and ages? Why does she tie them up and feed them their own body parts? Why does she project one number upon another and doing so, destroy both heartlessly? There were but scientific sweet nothings on the page, but I saw concrete blood and corpse and innumerable human suffering. I could not believe that any dictator, fascist in human history could write anything half as cruel as this — and certainly not Taki. She had been nothing but polite and poignant during our friendship — how could I have known of her hidden cruelty! Indeed, how could herself be aware, and how could she understand my vision? Of course, I had no nuanced understanding of my unique situation back then. All I could do was rush to Taki’s room and knock on her door and give an infuriated spiel. I called her, indeed, worse than Hitler. Taki took great offense to this — and rightly so — her Japanese-American family had suffered considerably in the Second World War, and Taki does not forget easily. She had every right to react this way, for I had not explained properly. Nor had I time. When I returned to my pathetic room it was midnight, and I decided that my friendship with Taki had been destroyed sacrificially. With Taki gone, I had nothing to tie me down to the world anymore. I was past the point of inflection. From now onwards, along the t axis, nowhere but onto infinity.

Every coming day I itched for the program to end so I may board the flight home. I continued taking my daily stroll along the diagonal, one of the few activities that still grounded me to reality, and I noted Taki’s natural absence from the route. My advisor was surprisingly delighted with my paper, given that he had contributed zilch to its inception or completion. He told me that he would pass the paper around to other advisors and discuss potential publication. I did not care for his propositions, all I wanted was for this meeting to end, and thus for all math things to end. On the final day of the program I was awarded the best written exposition award. This came as a surprise for myself and an upset for my peers, for nearly everyone had rightfully looked down at my mental faculties. I saw Taki when I went on stage to accept the award. She was clapping; she was still angry. I have not seen her since.

As I landed in the airport of my home country, I immediately destroyed my cellphone to avoid being found by my chauffeur and parents. I counted the money I have on me, which was a comfortable sum. I purchased a second cellphone and SIM card, and I immediately knew who to contact. She was invited to my school to do a presentation on activism, which I yawned over at the time, and she was scantly remembered by my peers. Strangely, I did save her phone number — I was a number hoarder long before my epiphany. I called her at once: I addressed her as prophet, sage and saint. I told her that I was a student at her presentation, and that I am enlightened and I am ready to devote all myself to her cause at once. She was generous enough to not enquire further, but she gave me her address. I called a taxi there at once. Upon arrival at the polished middle-class home I proceeded into the attic and threw myself onto her. I told her about my vision and I sobbed incessantly. This group of strange old hippies must have decided that I was properly mad, but still of proper usage to them. They were Trotskyites, terrorists. I told my matrons that I could stay indefinitely.

Obviously, I had partially thought this through: my father and grandmother wield considerable political power in the city, so a public search ad would be out of the question. On the other hand, my presence under the wings of this underground group could be an immense threat to my life. I hid my passport from them and used a general name. I was not asked to justify why I attended a private preparatory high school. They were merely glad I joined the cause.

I proceeded to spend three months in her basement helping to organize violent strikes and protests around the city. I was a secondary voice in the protester’s earpiece: I helped ‘reconnaissance tasks’ and aided avoiding the police and disposing evidence on scene. I pointed out routes of escape and made sure the choreograph was executed to perfect timing. I lived modestly and comfortably in a room of my own, with an old lady taking care of all my chores. They treated me excellently despite their insistence that I work twelve hours a day — (as a student I am used to much more than that) — they told me that I should just ask if I needed anything. To that I only pleaded a copy of Baby Rudin so I may continue to study mathematics in my free time, which was duly fulfilled. But for all my skills in proof and logic, I faltered at programming: I couldn’t make the Internet my oyster. No matter how excellently we coordinated a strike, more protesters seemed to die every month. As I viewed the latest metro worker’s strike in the central station on my screen, I felt great discomfort at the grand tapestry. I tried very hard to ‘inversely’ apply my vision to translate people to the numbers they correspond to. Although I was successful in finding a trove of irrationals, these numbers were meaningless when arranged together. They revealed no mathematical truth like the human truths I discovered through reading Taki’s thesis, and they were grossly cacophonous when placed alongside the number of Trotsky, the beautiful integer of twenty. I thought all this wrong, so I resolved to leave. I had no possessions with me except Baby Rudin. When the frail old lady attempted to stop me and wake the other women, I simply bashed the hard cover over her head. The book was not thick enough to kill her.

I returned to my family and I told them that I was kidnapped by the Trotskyites. When asked why have they not issued a blackmail, I stated that they were looking for the right time. Our domestic worker bathed me and I saw how harrowed I looked in the mirror. My entire person was swollen and pale for the plethora of unhealthy calories and lack of sunlight. I determined to look better, I determined to find the lean cleanliness of the self before my fateful summer. I gave my father the address and everything was swiftly taken care of. There were no more strikes in my city, and therefore no workers to die a protester’s death. Due to the perceived traumatic nature of my circumstance I completed my final year of high school at home, during which I became greatly invested in my father’s career. I had told him that I also wished to join politics, but both of us did not follow through. I slugged in my study of mathematics: the sight of numbers now make me tremble. I had not read Marx, Goldman or Bakunin. I had betrayed e, the ubiquitous blue-collar worker, a truly transcendental number. To return to the real world was altogether possible: the real world inundates you. We are all, after all, real numbers; and I am a rational number among them.

After a year of fruitful studies I joined a pretentious university abroad. I could find no sincerity and care in my classmates while searching for a secondary Taki. I was able to finish my mathematics degree, although others stopped regarding me as talented and were surprised to hear that I authored that little curio of a paper as a teenager. After university, I have channeled my energies into other pursuits: a capella, gardening, interior design, astrophysics, electrical engineering, anthropology. Tried as I have, I could not become the type of person entailed by their career. It was at this time that I realized that people’s numbers change over their lifetime, and that my vision does not exclusively bind people to number. Mine, however, remained the same. I did not venture into politics. My father retired to our ancestral city, laden with honor's spoils. I made money to sustain myself till I could not anymore.

By the time I was thirty years old I had left polite society. I later joined guerrilla fighting in the newly independent South Sudan. I cried upon hearing of our new unity government. My vision made a powerful return amidst the immense happiness of my fellow soldiers: they rejoiced in a fashion that fulfilled the Euler formula, which glared over our tins and tents. At first I dismissed this vision due to its simplicity; I have known the Euler formula since I was twelve years old. Why not the isomorphism of groups? Why not the Peano Postulates? But then I was humbled: simplicity is elegance, and elegance is beautiful. I was content. From then onwards, there was nothing complex under the sun.

[gtfovacations-blog]

10 Reasons Why Rhode Island Is the Unexpected Summer Destination You’re Missing Out On

Not long ago, Rhode Island had something of a Napoleon complex. To outsiders, it was a small, but necessary speed bump for road-trippers heading northbound to New England’s better-known destinations (Cape Cod, Boston, Bar Harbor, to name a few). But, the pint-sized state has slowly made a name for itself in the last decade. With world-class beaches, a trendsetting restaurant scene, a booming craft beer industry, Newport’s world-renowned sailing culture, and one of the most fascinating histories in the country, it’s a destination in its own right. Winters can be merciless and summers are brief in Rhode Island. So, when the warm weather rolls in, locals know to make the most of it. Here’s how you too can explore The Ocean State like a true Rhode Islander.

Sip Cocktails on The Lawn at Castle Hill Inn

Castle Hill Inn / Facebook Few U.S. destinations embody “pomp and circumstance” like Newport’s 10-mile Ocean Avenue. This coastal road is home to some of the largest, most opulent, most historical mansions in the country. Touring the former “summer cottages” of the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts is a nice diversion, particularly for history buffs. But, for a taste of quintessential, high-society Newport life, drive past them all to the unassuming entrance of Castle Hill Inn. Situated on a grassy point overlooking the Newport Bridge, The Lawn at this 140-year-old boutique hotel is the most breathtaking day-drinking spot in the state. On a sunny day, settle into an Adirondack chair with a Newport Storm Summer Hefeweizen and watch the world’s most beautiful, handmade wooden sailing ships track through Narragansett Bay.

Scope the Craft Beer Scene in Pawtucket

The Guild / Facebook Pawtucket has long been a waypoint for anyone passing through Rhode Island on I-95. It’s an unassuming suburb where Hasbro toys are realized and baseball fans can occasionally catch a glimpse of Boston Red Sox players slumming it at McCoy Stadium. Yet, somehow, in the last five years, the city quietly emerged as the centerpiece of the state’s craft beer scene. Isle Brewers Guild is the hub of it all. The cooperative facility is now the brewing home for eight local brewers including New England’s oldest, Narragansett Beer, but most recently Wash Ashore Beer Company and Night Shift Brewing. The Guild’s Tap Room is open to the public Thursday through Saturday. (It seems Family Guy may have been on to something after all.)

Stroll the Federal Hill Neighborhood

The Old Canteen / Facebook Federal Hill is Providence’s answer to Boston’s North End. The tiny, charming neighborhood is home to the most authentic Italian-American community in New England. The action centers around Atwells Avenue where you’ll find tourists and locals alike strolling the strip every day of the week during the summer. There’s no shortage of amazing, world-class Italian restaurants here, many of which have been in business since the mid-20th century. Options range from romantic, old-world eateries like Joe Marzilli’s Old Canteen Italian Restaurant to iconic Neapolitan pizza joints to modern mainstays like the upscale, Tuscan-inspired Siena. It’s physically impossible to have a bad meal here.

Day Trip to Block Island

Timothy J. Quill / Wikimedia Commons Among New England’s many islands, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket get all the love from most glossy travel publications. While it might lack the same name-brand, presidential cache, Block Island is more laid-back, less crowded, more walkable, and cheaper. There’s a reason they call it “Bermuda of the North.” It’s a pint-sized island that’s worth a weekend if you have the time. Most folks, however, arrive for a quick day trip via Point Judith in southern Rhode Island. Once on the island, book a half-day Jeep or bike rental right next to the ferry terminal to get the lay of the land. Head north to Block Island Wildlife National Wildlife Refuge — 134 acres of pristine, well-preserved green space with hiking trails and a beautiful lighthouse. Back in town, Mahogany Shoals on Payne’s Dock is a no-nonsense dockside spot for drinks with locals, a view, and few tourists. If you’re looking for a rowdier, shot-slamming good time, you’ll find it at Ballard’s where the party almost literally never stops.

Dine Alfresco With WaterFire Views

Of all of Providence’s regular seasonal events, WaterFire is the crown jewel. Since 1994, crowds have gathered along the Woonasquatucket River to watch the one-of-a-kind show. Dozens of “firetender” volunteers patrol the 80+ basins lining the river, lighting and stoking the fires as they go. The ambient world music, billowing plumes of wood smoke, and floating ambers all bolster a mood that’s eerie, beautiful, and almost trance-inducing. Check the official website for the latest schedule as dates are often added or moved. Some of the city’s best restaurants line the river. Many, like Hemenway’s, offer window seating or alfresco terraces overlooking the water.

Savor Rhode Island’s Quirkiest Junk Food Delicacies

Iggy's Doughboys and Chowder House / Facebook Rhode Island has its share of beloved, quirky foods. By the age of eight, most Ocean Staters have consumed a tanker-truck-worth of sickly sweet Autocrat coffee syrup. Stirred into a glass of ice cold milk, it makes for a thick delightful treat called simply “coffee milk” (or, more specifically, “cawfee milk”). This, the Official State Drink of Rhode Island, is not unlike its chocolatey Hershey’s counterpart, only better. Clam cakes — another staple of the Rhode Island food scene — are the highlight of any perfect beach day. They’re not a complicated affair: roll flour-encrusted clams into balls, deep fry, and enjoy. Back a half-dozen of them from Iggy’s Doughboys and Chowder House with a Del’s lemonade and you’re in business. For late-night fast food, it doesn’t get more quintessential Rhode Island than Olneyville New York System wieners. Your order: “two wieners all the way” (served in a steamed bun and topped with homemade meat sauce, a heap of mustard, onions, and celery salt) with a side of vinegar fries. Unless you’re looking for a brawl, under no circumstances should you ask for ketchup. It’s a fact that the later in the day you go — 2 a.m. on a Friday is ideal — the better the food. Bonus: when it gets really, really late, and even ONYS is closed, find the Haven Brothers food truck for a greasy burger and highly entertaining people-watching.

Head to the Beach (… Any Beach)

Discover Newport / Facebook It’s called The Ocean State for a reason. Rhode Island boasts a surprising amount of coastline for its size — 384 miles in total — and that means lots and lots of beaches. From the iconic beaches of Newport to wildly popular (and always crowded) Narragansett Beach to tiny, unspoiled beaches even locals have never heard of, there’s no shortage of spots to swim, surf, fish, and sunbathe. For one of the state’s most beautiful, calm, and least crowded beaches, stop at East Matunuck Beach in South Kingstown. For a more vibrant scene, Misquamicut State Beach offers seven miles of sand where the action is befitting of the young crowd you’re likely to find here.

Paddle for Miles and Miles

Julian Colton / Wikimedia Commons In addition to prime beach-going, all those miles of coastline make for great paddling opportunities. Start inland on the Wood River which winds among the state’s most biologically rich landscape. You can also spot the ruins of two historical mills near the water’s edge. It can be a trying paddle for newcomers, so bring your A-game. Sea kayakers should head to Napatree Point (“Napatree” to locals). You’ll find this windswept spit of land near Watch Hill — the state’s southernmost point and one of its quietest beaches. The semi-protected waters make for great paddling for kayakers of all levels, and the abandoned fort at the tip of the point is worth going ashore and exploring. Half- and full-day kayak rentals are available from Watch Hill Outfitters.

Explore Jamestown’s Rocky Shores at Beavertail State Park

Kenneth C. Zirkel / Wikimedia Commons Situated on a dramatic, craggy point overlooking Narragansett Bay in southern Jamestown, Beavertail is the most beautiful state park in all of Rhode Island. Its namesake lighthouse may be one of the most photographed in the state and there’s a charming museum to provide the low-down on the park’s history. Bring your dogs, bring your significant other, and/or bring a picnic lunch. It’s an idyllic spot for romance, relaxation, or afternoon reading by yourself. While you’re in the area, check out Fort Wetherill State Park which includes the abandoned relic of an old military fort and some genuinely stunning, hidden beaches with fantastic views of Newport Harbor.

Eat Like a King in Galilee

George's of Galilee / Facebook Seafood is Rhode Island’s cuisine. While there are many working harbors throughout the state, few see as much action as Galilee. Since 1948, George’s of Galilee has been an icon of the local food scene before there was a food scene. Their motto: “Eat fish, love life.” The menu boasts every kind of North Atlantic seafood you can imagine, from lobster specials to fisherman’s platters to fresh sushi. The big get here for is an order of the state’s official appetizer. Rhode Island-style calamari is flash fried and sauteed, then tossed with mushrooms, hot peppers, roasted red peppers, garlic, red onion, lemon, and white wine. Before you head home, make a quick pit-stop at the docks near the intersection of Galilee Escape Road and Great Island Road. Here, fishermen just back from the day’s haul in the afternoon sell fresh crabs and lobsters straight from their boats. Read the full article