#but I feel like…! since I spent 20 bucks on this shit I’m gonna drink it regardless and probably never again loll

[tariah23]

Mixed my ginger ale with my old sake and I regret it because alcohol makes me sleepy-

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK V | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 5! Read Part 4 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Falling - Opia.

Her - Majid Jordan.

Daylight - Maroon 5.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Junior Year.

Las Vegas,

Nevada.

“Hey.”

You pulled up the cover, holding it over your body and looking down at Matthew. His head was perched between your legs, and his lips were covered in slickness. “Hey,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, and placed a kiss on your inner thigh. “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Right now?” 

He laughed, “Oh, relax, princess. You’ll get your nut. I just wanted to see if...maybe, you might wanna go to Vegas?”

“Vegas?” you mumbled. “Why?”

“A bunch of us are going for spring break. I’m gonna be everyone’s tour guide, my mom is putting us up for the week. You should come.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I should come. I really, really should. So, c’mon, get back to it.” You grabbed onto his hair, twirling it on your fingers. 

“Bossy,” he whispered. He leaned down and continued to eat you out. Your head fell back against the pillow, you let out a happy sigh. 

“Worst timing ever, Matthew. Ask me in, like, 10 minutes.”

He stopped, gasping, “10 minutes?” 

“Fine, 15, 20, I don’t care. Just please—“

It took approximately 16 minutes. Matthew was able to get you off with his mouth in no time, and the two of you tangled together in a sloppy kiss. His cock pushed into you, his hand wrapped around your throat and you went dizzy as he pressed his fingers into your neck. It was three in the morning, soft music was playing through Matthew’s room, the lights were dim. The brief seperation last semester happened, it was over, and you both silently agreed that it shouldn’t happen again. 

Since returning from Christmas break last month, you’ve gone back to your late night schedule. Aside from seeing each other in class and parties and hangouts, you spent the hours between midnight and three AM at Matthew’s place. It often left you tired for your 8 o’clock class, but it was worth it. You were getting dicked down — very well, by the way — Matthew and you were getting along, laughing and cracking inside jokes with one another. Things were great. Hence, Matthew’s invitation to Nevada. 

“So?” He said, holding you against his chest after the deed was over. 

“So? So what?”

“Vegas? Spring break?”

“To meet your mommy?”

“Well—“ he stuttered. “Yeah, it’s her house, so you’ll probably meet her.”

“You gonna bring me home to your mom? And say ‘hey, mom, this is [y/n], my nutty buddy.’?” You laughed. 

“If that’s how you’d like to be introduced,” he shrugged. “I was just gonna tell her your name and keep it at that.”

“Wow, I’ve never been so honored!”

You shook his head at you, giggling, “A simple no would suffice.”

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips, “I’ll go.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go,” you repeated. “To Vegas. Count me in.” 

“Cool,” he smiled. “Cool.” 

“Only if Claire can come, too.”

He sighed, “Claire.”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it, dude.”

He took it.

You got a few hours rest in your own dorm, and woke up promptly to shower and get ready for class. When you got out of the bathroom, Claire was awake, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror. 

“Hey,” you grinned, drying off your hair. 

“Morning!” She pipped.

“Hey,” You began to get dressed. “You didn’t have plans for spring break, did you?”

“In what world would I have spring break plans that you don’t know about?” She asked. 

“Right,” you nodded. “So, how would you feel about going to Vegas?” 

Claire stopped applying her makeup and turned to you, “Vegas?”

“Yeah. We fly out the Sunday before break. What do you think?”

She leaned against the wall, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Sunday...” she whispered. “This wouldn’t be, uh, the trip Matthew’s taking everyone on, would it?”

You took a step back, freezing from buttoning your shirt. “Well...yeah, I guess. I’m not sure, I just got invited by someone else.”

“Who?”

“Huh?”

“Who invited you?”

“Um—“

“Cause I can’t think of anyone in our friend group that would invite you on Gube’s trip, knowing...how you feel about him.” She crossed her arms.

“So...is that a no to Vegas?” 

She sighed, shook her head, “C’mon, [y/n]...”

“What?”

“Are you...are you fucking Matthew again?”

Her words hit like a bullet. They blew through you like a disaster, racking your stomach with nerves and knots and fear. You felt yourself falling in this pit of despair, of terror, the realization that your worst fear had come to life. And you could only say one thing: 

“Huh?”

“Oh, God!” She shouted. “You are! You’re fucking Matthew again!”

You gasped, “C-Claire, what...what are you talking about?” 

“Oh, cut the shit, [y/n]! I saw you guys in the pool at the beach house, okay?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and ducking your head to avoid her gaze.

“Claire...”

“He treated you like trash, [y/n]! He fucked me, he fucked you, and broke your heart—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The Roni thing had you depressed for weeks. And I thought maybe Alex was getting your mind off it. Oh, my God, [y/n], tell me you did not dump Alex to mess around with Matthew. Please, please tell me you have not been running around here, letting Matthew Gubler put his dick in you.”

“Stop!” You shouted. 

“What is it about him? I used to have to pay you five bucks just to be in the same room as him. Now, he’s got you out at all hours of the night, and running off to Vegas?”

“What’s your deal, Claire?”

“My deal is that you’re my best friend. My very best friend. You deserve better.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered. You continued to fix your outfit, moving on to your hair — which you quickly styled. You grabbed your backpack and headed out without another word. From you or Claire. 

You didn’t mention this spat to Matthew. You just began spending an abnormal amount of time at his place, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed you with open arms, supplied you with an ample amount of sex. He helped you study, waited up for you after ballet practice, and always, always kissed you goodbye when you left. 

When spring break rolled around, Claire and you weren’t on speaking terms. She was well aware that all the time you were spending away was spent with Matthew, and she refused to entertain it. She spoke roommate business with you, kept things civil, but there were no late night movie marathons or afternoon lunches. 

“I’m leaving for Vegas,” you told her, hauling your suitcase. 

“Okay,” she replied, flipping through a book on her bed, and not looking up from it.

You sighed, “Okay.”

Matthew greeted you at the airport, keeping his distance to keep from alerting the rest of your friends to the relationship. “Hey, where’s Claire?”

You gulped, “Um, uh, she’s not coming. I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh. No, you didn’t. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Hey, how much money do you think I can win in one week?” You changed the subject.

He giggled, “I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you, aren’t I?”

“And keep me close,” you whispered. “Very close.”

You sat separately on the plane, but took the same car to his house. Matthew held the door open for everyone, winking at you as you came in last. His house was charming, had family photos plastered on the wall. 

“Aw, look,” you murmured to him, pointing at a baby picture of him on the wall. “Little Matthew!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep it moving,” he rolled his eyes, and put his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the house. 

The group gathered in the living room, silently admiring the place. “My boy!” Matthew’s mom exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with her arms wide open. This big smile grew out on Matthew’s face, and it made you smile instantly. His mom engulfed him a tender hug, holding him close, rubbing his back.

“Mom, you remember everyone,” Matthew said, his arm around his mom’s shoulders. He renamed everyone in the room, pointing them out to her. “And this is [y/n],” he motioned to you, giving you a faint smile. 

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler,” you greeted her. You reached out to shake her hand, and she shook it softly. 

“[y/n]...” She whispered, subtly glancing at Matthew. “Okay. Nice to meet you, [y/n].”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Matthew quickly ushered everyone upstairs. He showed your friends to the guest rooms, and while they were getting squared away, you waited in the hall patiently. He came up to you, your smiles mirroring each other’s, and the distance between you two was dangerously small.

“So, should I just set up my stuff out here? Lay down in the corridor?” You chuckled.

He shook his head, “Come on.” He grabbed your hand and your suitcase, and led you down the hallway. He pulled you into a bedroom on the right, set your stuff down on the mattress, and closed the door. 

“This is my room?” You asked.

“It sure is,” he nodded. “And the best part about it is that, there’s a room right next door.” He took slow strides up to you, a smirk on his face. You let him wrap his arms around you waist, pull you close. “And... tonight, or, every night this week, the door to that bedroom will be open. Real late at night. If you’d like to come check it out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You mumbled. 

“Yeah,” he put his forehead against yours, sighing. “I have to go talk to my mom. Be here when I get back.” 

“I might be,” you shrugged, watching him as he separated his body from yours. He gave you one last smile before leaving. 

Downstairs, Matthew’s mom was cleaning up the living room, talking to his roommate Steve. Matthew took a seat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Hey, my love! Is everyone settled in?” She asked Matthew. 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re getting there,” he replied.

“And your girlfriend?” She added.

He cut his eyes up to her, then Steve. Steve was chuckling under his breath. “I don’t have a girlfriend, mom.” 

“Oh? [y/n]’s not your girlfriend?”

“What? No,” he shook his head. “No. She’s not.”

“She’s new. I’ve never met her before.”

“Yeah...well, she...she’s my...uh—“

“Are you guys...are you...” His mom hesitated. He looked up at her, confused, until she raised her eyesbrows at him suggestively. 

“Oh, God, mom! Don’t ask me that!” He groaned, hopping up from the couch.

“I’ll explain.” Steve directed at Matthew’s mother. Matthew stopped in his tracks, and look at Steve, his arms crossed. “Matthew’s in love with [y/n].” 

“What?” Matthew shouted. “I am not—why would you say that?” His face turned bright red, the words flailing from his lips in jumbled stutters. 

“Oh, you really like her,” his mom grinned. 

“I don’t!” Matthew’s voice squeaked. 

“Matthew, I saw the way you two looked at each other. I saw how you came in with her, how you introduced her. You like her.”

“I’m hungry. Who’s hungry? I’m gonna see if everyone wants to go out for dinner.” Matthew rambled as he left the room. 

Matthew didn’t speak to you much throughout the day. He let you ride in his car, but not in the front seat. He started to pull the chair out for you at dinner, but played it off like that wasn’t his intention. It was his idea to show you all a nearby bar, and there, he was knocking drinks back, partying with friends, joking around. When you smiled at him, he pretended not to notice, and ducked his head down. And while your friends were keeping you plenty happy, you suddenly didn’t feel like being out anymore. 

You took an uber back to Matthew’s house, alone, and let yourself in through the back door as he had mentioned earlier. It was nearly two in the morning, pitch black, and you wound up getting lost upstairs. You waltzed into your room, at least you thought so. But when you opened the door, you came face to face with a room covered in movie posters, decorated with spooky trinkets. There was a blue undertone, a full size bed pushed against the wall and it smelled of smoke and mint. 

“You found it.”

“Ah!” You jumped, and turned around. “Fuck,” you huffed. “I’ve gotta get you a bell or something. What the hell, Matthew?”

“Why’d you leave tonight?” Matthew asked, stepping in and closing the door.

“I was tired. I wanted to sleep.” You shrugged. 

“In here?”

“I got lost. I can leave,” you sighed, and started heading for the door. 

Matthew grabbed onto your waist, and pulled your body into his. “What’s up, princess?” 

“Nothing. What’s up with you?” You scoffed. 

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been weird tonight! Why? Is it your mom? Are you — are you not comfortable with me being here?” 

“What? That’s crazy—“

“No, it’s not. Maybe me being here was a bad idea.” 

Matthew sighed, and ran his fingers through your hair. He turned away and walked up to his dresser, “You wanna know one reason I’m so excited to have you here?” 

You stared at the ground shyly, “Why?” 

He rummaged through his things, pulling out a small object that he craddled in his hands. “Because here...I have this.” He held up a sleek, professional looking camera.

You eyed it, stumped, “A go-pro?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Thought we could put it to use.” 

You tried to stifle your grin, “Put it to use?”

“Yeah. Let’s make a movie.”

You laughed dryly, “A movie?” 

“Yeah. A dirty one.” 

“Um...no!” You exclaimed. 

“Why not?” 

“Because...icky.”

He chuckled, “It’s not icky. It’s the same thing we always do. Just caught on film. C’mon, please? Pleeeease? I’ll make it tasteful.”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled, eyeing him intently. “Fine,” you agreed. “But, I have one condition.” 

“Name it.”

His bed was comfortable, soft. It permanently smelled like him. You laid on your back, your dress pushed up your thighs, and your panties laid on the floor. You held the tiny camera in your hands and had the lense aimed between your legs. You tried not to moan too loudly, Matthew working his mouth on you underneath the bed sheets. He was putting on a performance, twirling his tongue on your clit, sucking on it, humming in delight. 

You couldn’t help but touch his nose, admiring the way it sat on his face and grazed against your pelvis. You pressed your fingertip onto the bridge of his nose and ran it down to the tip, smiling down at him. He opened his eyes and peered in the camera. Watching on the camera screen, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his irises, his gaze filled with intensity and lust. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, your thumb tracing his cheekbone, “Come suck on my tits.” You commanded. 

He grinned, and he quietly began to kiss up your stomach. You kept the camera close to his face, capturing his every move. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and you had to push his hair out of his face to catch the action. The camera picked up the sound of your whimpers, the sight of Matthew gropping your breasts, his lips on you. 

Matthew kissed a trail up to your neck, sucking on your skin, so you could angle the camera and get a nice little shot of the two of you bundled up. “Give me this,” he whispered, taking the camera from your hand. 

He sat back and filmed himself undoing his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking himself. “Want me to fuck you?” He asked, and angled the camera at your face. You looked into the lense and nodded, twirling your hair on your finger. 

He bit down on his lip, pointed the camera back down at his cock, and pushed the tip into you. He listened to the wet sound of him sinking inside of you, pulling out halfway and them slamming back in. You tensed up and gripped onto the duvet cover, gasping. He immediately focused the camera on your face, watching through the screen as he pounded into you. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, your eyes rolling back. Matthew was practically drooling over you, huffing and puffing as he writhed on top of you. His shoulder were too far away for you to grab onto, but you dug your nails into his torso. You face was laced with pleasure and estacy, sweat forming on your forehead, your lips parted slightly. 

Matthew’s other hand held onto your face, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. He continued to record your face as his thumb slid into your mouth. 

“Look at me,” he begged. “Look at me.”

Your eyes flickered up the camera, your lips tightened around his thumb and he nearly exploded. “Oh, God, you’re so hot,” he huffed. “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You whimpered against his skin, your jaw dropping down to release strangled moans. His hand dropped down to cup your boob, massage it between his fingers. He centered the camera on your chest, watching as your boobs bounced up and down. The camera followed his hand down to your clit, and he recorded himself fucking you and rubbing the sensitive nerve. You trembled underneath his touch, beginning to fall apart. 

“You gonna come, baby?” He panted, camera pointed at your face. You nodded quickly, your face hot, your lip caught between your teeth. “Come on, come on my cock.”

His voice sent you over the edge, and the camera caught everything. You — quivering, groaning, moaning, gritting your teeth. It set Matthew on fire. He fucked you through your orgasm, until you were melting into the mattress. His hips bucked into you sloppily, and aggressively, now videoing his cock with the camera. 

He moved the camera perfectly, capturing the moment he pulled out and came on your dress. His hand moved quickly to jerk himself off, until every last drop was on the fabric. He crumbled into a fit of breathy groans, hunching over and trying to catch his breath. 

“My dress,” you whined.

“Well,” he sighed, shutting the camera off. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off then.” 

By the time spring break was over, the two of you had made 5 videos. The number of times you fucked, however, was much greater. You were grateful for an opportunity to get back at him for every hickey he’d given you in the past. You constantly left marks on him that he had to hide from his mother, and you enjoyed every second of his squirming. Feeling much looser and more relaxed in Vegas, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Still secretive, still sneaky, just...less. You even got up the courage to sit on his lap in front of everyone, and no one said a word. 

They did, however, let you sit with him on the plane ride home. 

Matthew gave you a kiss on the cheek before you headed back to your dorm. You stepped up to your front door, took in a deep breath, and stared at the peephole. You weren’t ready. Ready to tell Claire everything that had happened. Even though there was no one in the world you wanted to tell more. But she had made her feelings about the situation very clear, and you had to respect that. So, instead of facing up to her right away, you left. You didn’t even think about why, or where you were going. Because the destination was obvious.

“[y/n]?” Matthew said as he answered the door. He looked down, noticing your suitcase still at your side. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, locked myself out the room. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until Claire gets back.” You asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded, letting you into the suite. 

You got to his room and instantly crashed on his bed, feeling so comfortable. “Jet lag?” He laughed.

“Amongst other things.”

“You really need to let your body adjust to the time change.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling the covers over your body and snuggling into the pillows. He laughed at you, and sighed. Then he crawled into bed with you, and you let him hold you close. Thinking you were falling asleep, Matthew lightly ran his fingers down your cheek. It was soft and gentle and felt nice. And you desperately wished for a way to have this. To have him. Without losing your best friend.

But things between you and Claire just got worse. 

Over the next few weeks, she not only kept you at arms length, but Matthew as well. Despite living with you, she found creative ways to keep your conversations short and brief, and oftentimes would leave before you got back from Matthew’s. And despite being Matthew’s friend, she managed to avoid him at every party, every class. It just sucked. Because you were so, so happy, and then there was Claire. 

“We have to move out,” she grumbled as she entered the room.

“What?” You were stocking your mini fridge, but stopped to look at her. 

“They’re kicking us out because of this goddamn virus! Fuck!” She shouted. 

“What? Where’d you hear that?” 

“The school just sent out an email.”

You rushed over to your bed, grabbing your phone off your mattress. The email notification popped up, causing a vibration in your hand, and you opened the app right away. All NYU students to be moved out of campus housing by Sunday.

“Sunday?” You shouted. “Sunday? They expect me to pack all my shit in 4 days?”

Claire would’ve responded, but she was too busy already getting her stuff together, and you were occupied with rampant thoughts about, well, everything. You’d have to pack. Everything. Clear out your room. You’d have to call home. Have someone help. Fuck. You’d have to live at home. Home. For months. You couldn’t go out on campus, couldn’t see your friends, your friends!

Matthew. Oh, God. Matthew. 

He crossed your mind everyday for the next 2 days, as you packed your room into boxes and bags. He didn’t attempt to contact you, probably too busy with his own packing. Your family would be picking you up Saturday morning. So, you felt it best to go say goodbye on Friday. 

It was almost midnight, and you had just finished packing. You stood outside of Matthew’s bedroom door for a long time, after having been let in by his suitemate. Before you could knock, the door swung open and the two of you nearly collided. 

“Oh! [y/n].”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I was just on my way to see you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I’m leaving tomorrow morning. So, I wanted to come say...goodbye.” The words were hard to push out, and they hit Matthew even harder. His heart sunk to his stomach, and he wanted to do anything, anything, to make it go away. 

He grabbed onto your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You instinctively gripped onto his shirt, your face contorted in shock and confusion. He pulled you into the room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Matthew,” you whispered, but he continued to press his lips to yours. “Matthew.” You repeated as he began to kiss your neck. Your legs started to go weak, your breathing sped up. “Matthew, wait.”

He stopped abruptly and looked you in the eye, your face in his palm. “What is it?”

“I just—“ you sighed. “Are you okay?”

He digested the words for a second, looking down at you with a soft gaze. He kissed you once again, arms now around your waist, chest pressed against yours. You gave in. You both needed this. 

It was hungry. Eager. Clothes were torn off in less than a minute. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, tangled his fingers in your hair and devoured your body. He left a trail of hickies from your neck, to your chest, to your rib cage. The sensation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling, attempting to control your breathing. 

Soft kisses on your thighs led to an intense session of him eating you out, him pressing you against his face, his tongue encircling your clit. You rolled your hips against his mouth, gasping his name and pulling his hair. He worked himself to the brink, his jaw going numb, until you cried out his name as you came. It was an other-worldly, hypersensitive, super sonic orgasm. And it took you a minute to recover. 

His body laid on top of yours, his lips on your neck, his torso between your legs. You whined into your mouth as he pressed his dick in you, slowly, gently, until he was buried inside you. You could feel his arm muscles contracting and relaxing under your touch. His breath hit your shoulder with each quiet groan that escaped his lips. He put his forehead against yours, watching your face as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace.

You hummed softly, and kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his neck. His mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. “Oh, my God, [y/n],” he panted. He never said your name to you. Ever. Very rarely. Especially not in bed. And it tore you apart. You held onto him for dear life and looked him in the eye as you massaged your clit.

Your moans increased in volume together, both of you nearing your release at once. You whimpered uncontrollably, your eyes fluttering closed. You couldn’t see Matthew watching you, but he was. He watched the way your hair framed your face, your expression of pleasure. He placed soft kisses all over your face, and the moment he caught your lips on his, you came. You accidentally bit down on his lip, and he let out a weak moan.

“S-sorry,” you whispered. 

“It’s okay,” he nodded. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, baby.”

He followed his words with a grunt, slamming himself into you. Your chests rubbed against each other’s, the bed squeaked along with the movement of Matthew’s hips. His moans became breathy, vulnerable, and he proactively pulled himself out of you. You dazedly reached down and stroked his cock, watching his face as he trembled. He said your name again, faintly, very faintly, in a fit of moans as he released himself onto your stomach. 

You were sticky and sweaty and gross — both of you — but you held each other close, panting and wheezing. 

You spent the night at his dorm for the first time that night. The two of you slept cuddled up, his head on your chest, your arms wrapped around each other. At six in the morning, you woke up and slid out of bed without waking Matthew. You kept your vision away from him as you got dressed. And when you were ready to go, you turned to him and admired him.

He looked peaceful, soft. You wanted nothing more than to wake him up, stay in bed with him for hours. But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you gave him a kiss on top of his head, and you left.

[PART 6.]

[khoicesbyk]

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 3,680 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Song And Story Inspiration: In The Still Of The Nite-Boyz II Men | Give Me One Reason-Tracy Chapman | Nobody’s Supposed To Be Here-Deborah Cox

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @choiceslady @queenjilian @bebepac @txemrn @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @hopefulmoonobject @lucy-268 @pixie88 @otherworldlypresents  @choicesficwriterscreations

TW: kidnapping. Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 5.) In The Still Of The Night.

In the still of the night.

I held you.

Held you tight.

'Cause I love.

Love you so.

Promise I'll never.

Let you go.

In the still of the night.

As she slept peacefully in her new bed, Naia dreamed that she was running through the forest. She felt strong. She felt invincible. She could feel the wind on her face as she ran. It was exhilarating. She felt free. When she came out of the woods, she was a wolf. And when she looked up, she saw him. It was the wolf she had seen in her dreams before. It was him. When he howled she did the same.

That’s when she woke up. She sat up in bed, panting with her heart thundering in her chest. She looked around her room in order to get her bearings. That’s when something compelled her to look out her bedroom window. And when she looked out the window she saw a wolf staring up at her. When she shook her head, the wolf was gone. The image of the wolf was still in her head when she went back to sleep.

After waking up later that morning and taking a good hot shower, Naia couldn’t get Roman out of her head. She wanted to feel his arms wrapped her again. He was seductive and mysterious and she wanted more. She could still feel his warm breath on her neck and the closeness of his body to hers. She thought it was insane but never actually questioned why she thought that way.

When she went to the kitchen for breakfast, she noticed a note on the counter. It was from her uncle.

“Good morning. Gone fishing. Be back later. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. Uncle Z.”

When she opened the fridge, she grimaced because there wasn’t much in there to begin with. When her stomach rumbled she knew she had to change that.

“Okay well since a home cooked breakfast is out of the question. I think I’ll try the breakfast place I saw when I drove into town. Also I’ll do some grocery shopping while I’m at it. Because this right here ain’t hitting on nothing.” She thought to herself.

With keys and wallet in hand Naia set off for town. After shopping at Banner’s Family Market, she was just about starved and stopped by Tucker’s diner.

After getting a table she sat down and looked over the menu. As she looked over the menu, someone was watching her. Or so it looked that way.

I remember.

That night in May.

The stars were bright above.

I'll hope and I'll pray.

To keep.

Your precious love.

At another table, Trent was eating breakfast with a few members of his team when Naia walked in. He felt a pull towards where she was sitting.

“Yo T! What is it?” Jenkins, one of his team members asked.

“I don’t know. Something weird just happened. Like she just walked in.” He replies shaking his head.

“Man! Please tell me that you’re not talking about that so-called dream girl again!” Sergei said to him.

“If you must know, yes I am.”

His crew collectively groaned.

“Dude it’s been almost a whole 2 months! Let it go already!” Hugo told him.

“As I’ve told you idiots before: I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? Which one is it T?” Jenkins asked him.

Trent never answered. He just sipped his coffee. Even though he’s blind he could feel her presence. After going over the menu for a solid 20 minutes, Naia decided on the Lobster Eggs Benedict and a sweet tea. Just as she was about to put her order in, Layla walked in.

“Layla! Over here!” She called out to her new friend.

Trent nearly dropped his cup of coffee. Hearing her voice in real time both scared and excited him.

“You almost dropped your cup. You okay man?” Jenkins asked him.

“Huh? Yeah! I’m…I’m good.” Trent replied, while trying to hide the crack in his voice. With his hearing being better than most, he tuned into her conversation

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Layla asked Naia as she sat down across from her.

“Since my uncle has gone fishing, I decided to do some grocery shopping and I was starving so here I am. What are you and the little one up to?” Naia replies.

“The same thing as you. Have you ordered yet?” Layla asks.

“Just about to. What about you?” Naia replies.

“Oh girl! They already know what I want. A pitcher each of cranberry juice and ice water, their triple berry cheesecake parfait, double blueberry pancakes and a ham, spinach and swiss omelette.” Layla replied.

Naia’s eyes went wide.

“You’re actually gonna eat all of that?!” She asked.

“I mean…I am eating for two, ya know?” Layla replied, rubbing her belly. The two shared a laugh as they continued their conversation.

Trent turned his attention back to his team just as the twins came strolling in. His boss Bernard Sayre is a blowhard who only cares about 3 things. Making money, being powerfully unstoppable and his twins Dylan and Tyler. The twin terrors as they’re known around town, just love getting their way no matter what they do or say. And although it annoyed Trent, he was powerless to stop them.

“Heyyyyy boys!” Dylan called out to Trent and his team. Her voice sounded like banshee screech.

“And here comes daddy’s two brats…” Jenkins groaned as the twins approached.

“So what are you guys up to?” Tyler asked.

“We’re eating. Why?” Trent asks.

“Because we were hoping that you’d join us at Buck’s for the Friday night sing a long and pool.” Tyler replies.

“You’d have to ask Layla if we’re allowed back in. Especially after what happened the last time.”

The twins groaned.

“Well she’s sitting at a table with some girl. So I guess it’s worth a shot.” Dylan said with a sigh.

Naia watched in amusement and shock, as she watched Layla polish off everything she ordered with ease.

“I can not believe that you ate EVERYTHING!”

“Told you!” Layla replied as she swiped her finger on the inside of her parfait cup.

“Uhhhhh Layla…”

“Huh?” She asked.

“It’s all gone! Put the cup down!” Naia replies.

The two laughed as the twins approached.

“Hiiiiiiiiiii Layla!” They say in unison causing Layla to groan.

“Ohhh and hi Layla’s friend!”

“What do you two want?” She asked the twins.

“Weeeeeellllllllllll…we were hoping you’d let us have Friday sing a long and pool.” Tyler said in a cloyingly sweet voice.

“After the shit you pulled the last time? NO!” Layla hissed at them.

“Come on Layla! Our dad paid for the damage!” Tyler whined.

“Yeah he did…after I threatened to sue his sorry ass!”

“Please!” The twins begged.

Layla rolled her eyes then replied, “fine! You can come tonight.”

“Thank you!” The twins squealed.

“Whatever. Go away!”

“You don’t have to be rude!” Dylan said.

“Which would you rather: me be rude or me ban you two from ever stepping foot into MY bar?” She asked them.

The twins stood stuck.

“I thought so. Now again: go away!”

The twins turned on their heels and stomped away. When they were far enough away for her pleasure, Layla turned her attention back to Naia.

“Sorry about that.”

“Who are they?” Naia asks.

“Tyler and Dylan Sayre. Their dad Bernard owns Sayre Energy and Power. They’re a public nuisance.” Layla replies.

“They look harmless to me.”

“That’s because you haven’t been around them when they’re drunk.”

“Touché.”

“I guess since they’re having Friday sing a long and pool, you should come too.”

“Me?” Naia asks.

“Yes you! It’ll be fun as long as those two aren’t drinking.” Layla replies.

“I don’t know about all of that.”

“Also there’s normally a $1,000.00 cash prize for first place.”

“Why didn't you lead with that?!” Naia asks.

“Because Dylan normally wins because no one wants to challenge her.” Layla replies.

“Well as someone who’s still paying off student loans: Count me in!”

So before the light.

Hold me again.

With all of your might.

In the still of the night.

So before the light.

Hold me again.

With all of your might.

In the still…of the night.

That night at Buck’s the party was in full swing. People were dancing, drinking, playing pool and mingling amongst themselves. Naia stuck close to the bar and Layla as they watched the crowd. And like clockwork, Dylan was drunk and ready to sing her heart out.

“Alright you party animals! Let’s get this sing a long on the road! Now all of you know the rules. First place gets $1,000.00! And since that first place is always me I have nothing to worry about! So hit the music!”

“Ohhh God…” Layla groaned.

“What?!” Naia asks.

“Little Miss Banshee is about to assault our ears and sing Deborah Cox Nobody’s Supposed To Be Here.” Layla replies.

“It can’t be THAT bad, Layla.”

“Wanna bet?” She asks just as Dylan grabbed a mic.

After clearing her throat, Dylan began to sing. Sorta.

How did you get here?

Nobody's supposed to be here.

I tried that love thing for the last time.

My heart says "No, no." Nobody's supposed to be here.

But you came along and changed my mind.

I've spent all my life on a search to find. The love who'll stay for eternity. The heaven sent to fulfill my needs. But when I turn around, again, love has knocked me down. My heart got broken, oh it hurts so bad. I'm sad to say love wins again.

So I placed my heart under lock and key. To take some time to take care of me. But I turn around and you're standing here.

How did you get here? Nobody's supposed to be here.

I tried that love thing for the last time.

My heart says "No, no." Nobody's supposed to be here.

But you came along and changed my mind.

This time I swear I'm through. But, if only you knew how many times I've said those words. Then fall again, when will I ever learn? Knowing these tears I cry, this lovely black butterfly. Must take a chance, and spread my wings. Love can make you do some crazy things.

So I placed my heart under lock and key. To take some time to take care of me. But I turn around and you're standing here.

Standing here…

When Dylan got to the bridge, Naia thought her ears would bleed out.

No, nobody, no, no, no, no, no, no, ooh!

No, no, nooooooooo...

How did you get here? Nobody's supposed to be here I tried that love thing for the last time.

My heart says "No, no." Nobody's supposed to be here.

But you came along and changed my mind.

How did you get here? Nobody's supposed to be here.

I tried that love thing for the last time.

My heart says "No, no." Nobody's supposed to be here.

But you came along and changed my mind.

When she was done, Naia was ready to run out the door screaming.

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyy God! That was fucking horrible!”

“Told you.” Layla deadpanned.

“She has to be stopped! What other songs are on that karaoke machine?” Naia asks.

“Hundreds! So if you’re gonna sing, pick one and make it good! That way ears will stop ringing.” Layla replies.

Naia left her seat at the bar and walked over to where the karaoke machine was and went through the list of songs. Doing so, caught the ire of a very drunk Dylan.

“Ummmmmm what do you think you’re doing?!” She asks.

“Picking a song obviously.” She replies over her shoulder.

Dylan huffed.

“You actually think you can beat my melodious voice?” She asks.

“A dead horse can beat your voice. And just like that I found my song.” Naia replies.

“Good luck beating me!” Dylan sneered.

“Watch and learn young grasshopper.”

Naia took the mic and began to sing Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman.

Give me one reason to stay here. And I'll turn right back around. Give me one reason to stay here. And I'll turn right back around. Said I don't want to leave you lonely. You got to make me change my mind.

Baby I got your number. Oh and I know that you got mine. You know that I called you. I called you many times. You can call me baby. You can call me anytime, you got to call me.

Give me one reason to stay here. And I'll turn right back around. (You can see me turnin') Give me one reason to stay here. And I'll turn right back around. (You can see me turnin') Said I don't want to leave you lonely. You got to make me change my mind.

I don't want no one to squeeze me. They might take away my life. I don't want no one to squeeze me. They might take away my life. I just want someone to hold me. Oh and rock me through the night.

People started to gather around Naia as she sang. When she looked towards the bar, she winked at Layla. Layla mouthed the words “next drink is on the house.”

This youthful heart can love you. Yes and give you what you need. I said this youthful heart can love you. Oh and give you what you need. But I'm too old to go chasin' you around. Wastin' my precious energy.

Give me one reason to stay here. Yes and I'll turn right back around. (You can see me turnin') Give me one reason to stay here. Oh I'll turn right back around. (You can see me turnin') Said I don't want to leave you lonely. You got to make me change my mind.

Baby just give me one reason. Oh give me just one reason why. Baby just give me one reason. Oh give me just one reason why I should stay. Said I told you that I loved you. And there ain't no more to say.

When she finished the applause was thunderous. She had everyone on their feet. When she looked out on the crowd, she saw a visibly angry Dylan. Naia smirked and winked at her, which further infuriated her.

When Naia walked back to the bar, she got the feeling someone was watching her but she didn’t know who that someone was.

“Soooooo…how was that?” Naia asked Layla as she reached the bar.

“AMAZING! Now if you can beat her brother at pool, the bar is on the house.” Layla replied.

“Sold!”

“Well get to it girlie! Because you’ve been eyeing that bottle of tequila over my shoulder since you got here.”

Naia snickered then took off towards the crowd gathered around Tyler. As she went to WB w the crowd was she got the same feeling that she was being watched. And she was indeed being watched. Trent was tuned into her movements even through his blindness.

“Well this looks like fun!” Naia says as she reaches the pool table.

“Go away! Nobody wants you here!” Dylan hissed.

“What’s the matter princess? Scared I’ll beat your brother like I beat you?” Naia teased.

“You can’t beat me!” Tyler huffed.

“Wanna bet?” She asked him.

“Sure. How much are you willing to lose?”

“Since I beat your sister:  $1,000.00.” She replies. She didn’t think he’d take her seriously.

“You’re on! Best 2 out of 3?” He asks.

“Then you’ve got yourself a game.” She replies.

Once the balls were lined up and it was up to her to break. She got stripes while he got solid.

“Let’s go!” She tells him.

The two were evenly matched with the first game going to her and the second going to him. And it all came down to the last game. Naia had an impossible split. Or so that’s what Tyler and the crowd that was gathered around them thought.

“I’ll make you a deal new girl. If you bank this shot, I’ll up the bet from $1,000.00 to $3,000.00.” He said to her.

“Deal!” Naia replies.

Naia tucked a hair that out of place behind her ear, lined up her shot and sank both balls. Beating a very stunned Tyler.

“TAKE! THAT!” She squealed.

“But! But! I…we…” Tyler stammers as he goes pale.

“You lost just like your sister? Yeah I know. Now pay up!” She told him.

That’s when Dylan jumped into Naia’s face.

“You cheated!” She screeched.

“No, your brother ran his mouth and lost. And now he has to pay up. So give me my money!” Naia yelled back.

When Dylan reared back to slap Naia, Trent caught her hand.

“Hey! Let go T!” Dylan yelled.

“We’re not doing this again. Now Tyler pay the lady her money. You know you have it.” Trent said in a stern voice.

There was something about him that caught Naia’s eye.

“My dad will kill me if I pay her!” Tyler whined.

The twins looked at Trent with puppy dog eyes. But he didn’t budge.

“You’re no fun, T!” Tyler whined.

“Don’t care. Now pay her!”

Tyler groaned as he pulled money out of his pocket then handed it to Trent.

“Here!” Tyler pouted.

Trent took the money and handed it to Naia. When their hands touched, it set off a spark inside her. The same kind of spark she felt with Roman.

“Sorry about those two. They don’t know how to lose gracefully.” He said to her.

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for getting my money.” She replied.

Trent turned to the twins then said, “beat it you two! We don’t need anymore trouble.”

The crowd dispersed after the twins huffed then walked out. And Naia found herself back at the bar gushing with Layla.

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyy God! Look at this! I just won $3,000.00!”

“I can't believe you did that! No one has ever beaten the twins. Their dad will be so pissed that they lost that kind of money.”

“In the words of T.I. ‘it ain’t tricking if you got it!’”

They two laughed.

“Okay but in all seriousness, thank you! It’s about time that someone brought those two out of the clouds. So here’s your brand new shiny bottle of tequila!” Layla said as she gave Naia the bottle.

“Thank youuuuuu!” Naia squealed.

Just then Trent called out.

“Layla! Another round?”

Layla groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Who is that?” Naia asked.

“That’s Trent. He works for the twins dad.” Layla replied.

“Is he their bodyguard or something?” Naia asked.

“No but he’s always around when those two cause trouble. Let me go fill their orders.” Layla replies.

“Okay. I’ll be here with my brand new bottle.”

Layla shook her head and headed off towards Trent and his crew. Naia couldn’t help but look the same way. Her eyes instantly went to Trent. He was beautiful and there was something about him that stuck with her.

He enchanted her and what she didn’t know was she did the same for him. After the bar closed, Naia began walking back to her uncle’s house. She got halfway down the street when Trent caught up with her.

“Hey!” He said to her.

“Hi! How are you?” She replied.

“I’m good. You must be new in town. I’m Trent.”

“I know. Layla told me your name. I’m Naia.”

“It’s nice to meet you Naia.”

“Likewise. It’s nice to meet another friendly face outside of Layla and my uncle.“

“It’s dark out here. Mind if I walk you home?” He asked.

“Sure. Especially when I’m not sure which way to go.” She replied.

“Where does your uncle live?” He asked.

“Just outside of town. His house backs up to the woods.” She replied.

Even though it was nighttime, he flashed a smile at her that made her heart leap. As they walked they talked about what their lives were like growing up, what college life was like and past loves. She had just met him but she felt she knew him her whole life. When they got to her uncle’s front door, they weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“So this is me…”

“So it would seem. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“No thank you. Because I probably would’ve gotten lost and would’ve wandered around the woods for days.”

“I think you would’ve found your way home.”

There was a magnetic pull between them that neither could deny. Before either knew what they were doing, they kissed. It was a slow, sensual and deep  kiss. And when it ended both were desperate for more.

“Wow!”

“What you said.”

“I better get inside.”

“Will I see you again?” He asked.

“Of course. I’ll be here for a while.” She replies.

“Good. Have a good night Naia.”

“Goodnight Trent.”

When she went inside her heart was racing. And she wanted more. She wanted him. This was the exact same way she felt when she kissed Roman.

The next morning after showering, she was in the kitchen fixing herself breakfast. 

Her uncle still hadn’t returned from fishing. She had just sat down to eat her breakfast when the front door swung open. It was a man and a woman. They were two of the people she’d seen with Roman.

“Come! The ceremony awaits you!” He commanded.

“1.) no. 2.) WHAT THE HELL?!” Naia replies.

“We’re wasting time! Come now!” The woman demanded.

“What the hell? Get out!” Naia screamed.

When the woman went to grab Naia, she danced out the way. That’s when the man grabbed Naia and threw her over his shoulder. He dragged her out of the house, with her kicking and screaming.

“Let me go!” She screamed.

She struggled to get free but he was way too strong. She was thrown in the back of a van and a hood was placed over her head. Naia had no idea where they were taking her. And she was terrified of finding out.

[medea10]

My Review of Grand Blue

How did I get into this anime? Well, I heard there were some good reviews about this particular title. It was one of those animes I probably should have watched in summer 2018, but more than likely I was watching some sequel no one remembers.

Iori Kitahara just moved to an ocean-front town to live with his uncle since he lives near Izu University (a school Iori was accepted into). His uncle owns a scuba diving shop that serves as a local hangout for members of the school’s diving club. Little does Iori know that this is a local hangout to get FUCKING SHIT-FACED!!!

I am not making this up. These members drink like it’s going out of business. And usually these drinking binges end up with blackouts and public nudity. In Iori’s case, he got so black-out drunk that he woke up in front of his new university’s courtyard…on the first day of school…only wearing his boxers! I’m beginning to see why Amazon put out an advisory at the beginning of each episode about drinking responsibly. But aside from drinking with a bunch of meat-head senpais, there’s also diving. Yeah, club activity is actually diving into the ocean.

So let’s dive into this college-leveled, binge-drinking club as we meet some interesting characters like, a raging otaku (Kouhei), Iori’s cousin with “Permanent Resting Bitch-face Syndrome” (Chisa), a girl who should get a makeup tutorial on Youtube (Aina), two meat-head senpais (Bukki and Tokki), Drinky McStripsItAll (Azusa), and Chisa’s “loving” older sister (Nanaka).

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: So this is an Anime Prime exclusive, so I doubt I’d be hearing a dub to this any time soon. The sub has quite the line-up of seiyuus including that upcomer I’ve been raving about all 2019, Yuuma Uchida. But a lot of well-known folks like Kana Asumi and Hiroki Yasumoto (who can literally play anything at this point) shine in this anime. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Iori is played by Yuuma Uchida (Kyo on Fruits Basket 2019, Uenoyama on Given, Chika on Kono Oto Tomare, Sun on Oresuki, Ash on Banana Fish, and Shirazu on Tokyo Ghoul :re)

*Kouhei is played by Ryouhei Kimura (known for Hinata on Angel Beats, Hachiken on Silver Spoon, Takizawa on Eden of the East, Judar on Magi, Taishi on Tokyo Ghoul, and Hiyori on Free!)

*Chisa is played by Chika Anzai (known for Mina on Attack on Titan)

*Aina is played by Kana Asumi (known for Taneshima on Working!!, Ran on Shugo Chara, Kazakiri on Index, Yuno on Hidamari Sketch, Nagisa on Madoka Magica: Rebellion, and Tachibana on Nisekoi)

FAVORITE CHARACTER: I’m gonna say that after watching all 12 episodes; Aina (a.k.a. Cakey) grew on me. Horrible caked-on make-up aside, let’s be real here.

I think it’s because of the development we see with her ever since she was introduced early in the series. We see a girl trying her damndest to fit in with the tennis club only for it to blow up in her face (literally when we’re talking about all that makeup that’s “caked” on her face). Yeah, these guys treated Aina like garbage! But after joining the diving club, we see her be herself and slowly trust those around her. I think it’s more of this character resonating with me in some sad aspect, but I too feel the pain of trying to fit in or not wanting to let anyone down. Anyways, Cakey is my girl!

Poor dear, I feel your pain.

SHIPPING: So Iori is now a college lad and getting smashed eight ways from Sunday. And I’m sure he’s going to have his own picks of the ladies when he isn’t drinking with an otaku and a bunch of meat-heads.

…Or he can get freaky with his blood cousin!

*eyeball twitch*

ANYWAYS, Chisa has made her point clear with the disgusted face she makes whenever she’s around Iori. But in anime terms, we know that she has that classic tsundere syndrome. So when someone like Aina comes into the picture and Iori sticks up for her, jealousy arrives like a fucking A-bomb! Despite Chisa announcing to a wide, public setting that Iori was her boyfriend (while he was passed-out drunk), nothing too scandalous happened with this. It was just so she could keep creepy boys away. Honestly, I really have no problem if Chisa and Iori hook up. It’s actually better than Chisa being with someone who has an unhealthy obsession with her.

I don’t want to say Nanaka has a thing for her baby sister, but this is getting too borderline Yuru Yuri that I have to say something about it.

I’m pretty sure Aina might be a contender after all Iori has done for her throughout the series. It’s just that she can’t stand all that binge-drinking and getting buck-naked at any moment.

And then there’s wild card Azusa! She’s a flirt! What else can I say about her? She teases Iori every chance she gets. Hell, near the finale she tantalized Iori in sex. Wasn’t sure if she was kidding or if she really meant it! However she did shove a leek up Iori’s ass, but that’s because he was sick.

I swear this is normal behavior.

By the end of the series, we really didn’t get much in terms of full-on hookups. Many misunderstandings have occurred involving word-play. Iori, Kouhei, and their band of geeky friends are still virgins (though one of them came very close to sealing the deal). One of the meat-heads has a girlfriend (did not see that one coming). But on a positive note, Chisa and Iori’s friendship has been pretty steady. I wonder how long that’ll last!

ANIMATION: I gotta say it, the facial expressions on these characters were a laugh-riot. It wasn’t like this was pathetically sad that I have to laugh at it. But more of how expressive these characters got when they have to express hatred or disgust! This is more for comical expense and I happened to like it. It’s like with the anime Prison School, all the facial expressions worked in their favor. This, while out of place some of the time, never fails to make me laugh.

ANIME REFERENCE: While shopping for gear for an upcoming diving expedition, Kouhei came across two suits that would make any old-school otaku squeal.

The suits of Rei Ayanami and Asuka Langley Soryu from Neon Genesis Evangelion in diving suit form. And Kouhei got Chisa and Aina to try them on!

ENDING: At the end of episode 9, the diving club is heading to Okinawa for a special trip that is promised we will never forget. They made sure of that when the anime gives us a two-minute preview of what to look forward to in these final three episodes. Just be warned a lot of things mentioned really didn’t happen. It almost felt like one of those gag previews Gintama is notorious for.

Well Iori, Kouhei, and Aina are going to attempt at getting their divers license so that they can go even further down the ocean. It seemed like all three were doing pretty well when it came to the basics of diving underwater. However, it was quickly noticed by Nanaka that Iori was having trouble keeping water out of his goggles and that could result in immediate failure. So Iori practices all night (with help from Chisa and Aina). However, Iori ended up in some trouble when a patrolling policeman comes upon him in the pool. And Iori spent the rest of the night in the water because he was naked.

Because I’d be concerned if he wasn’t naked!

Well, the next morning, he caught a cold. Then dumbass thinks it’s a good idea to get rid of a cold by drinking vodka.

Because I’d be concerned if he wasn’t drinking!

And as a result he ended up missing his chance for obtaining his diving license. Kouhei and Aina were able to get their licenses. So the big diving expedition of Okinawa is about to commence and Iori has to sit this one out. But he remains hopeful to one day dive with his friends in Okinawa. After all that, the group travels to another spot and get fucking hammered. You all see the theme to this series, right?

But the last few episodes gave us a few moments involving Kouhei and Aina. Kouhei ended up stumbling into this group on accident (much like Iori), but discovered how much fun he had (aside from getting drunk as a skunk night after night). As for Aina, she learned that despite the diving club being full of a bunch of drunken meat-heads, these people care about her (unlike the previous club she belonged to).

So it was a memorable trip.

This was absolutely NOT what I expected when I picked up this anime. I notice Grand Blue being taken place in a cute ocean town and thought it would be just as cute as Tsuritama. But it turned out to be the anime equivelant of Animal House. I can easily tell you that my college years were NOTHING LIKE THIS.

Despite going to school in a state where the drunk-driving rate is sky-high, I did not witness any strange anomalies like arriving on campus and seeing a bunch of drunk, naked lads sprawled across the courtyard.

Now then, I do feel like this series could have focused a little more on diving and oceanography. It felt like the majority of the series involved characters binge-drinking, meat-heads fighting with tennis club members, more binge-drinking, sad geeks never getting laid, studying for a German test where you only get 20%, and drinking more than Sterling Archer. Not so much on the ocean like I would have hoped. And even though Iori gets the short-end of the stick in almost every episode, I do feel bad that he couldn’t join the rest of the club under water in the finale. That felt a little disheartening, but that’s just me. Short answer, I like this anime! If you’re in for a good laugh and are not turned off by all the drinking and nudity, I say go for it.

For what it’s worth, it’s a silly adventure I can see myself rewatching one or two more times. And if you’re interested in watching, Amazon Prime has all 12 episodes available for streaming.

Okay, this was quite the trip! Let’s pick our next Amazon/Netflix/Crunchyroll exclusive anime!

Think Zootopia, but set in high school.

Beastars!

Great choice as I even heard good things from celebrities who don’t normally watch anime.

[softbiker]

A Familiar Place - Part 1

A recovery story - this series follows some events in the first year of Bucky’s life back stateside, and his small adventures while learning to come home to himself. This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.

Warnings: some language, probably sloppy editing

A/N: I’m posting the first part of this story to celebrate hitting 100 followers this weekend! Thank you so much everyone! I’m having a blast with this writing blog. This story probably won’t be updated as fast as Born to Run since I don’t have it all written out yet, but I still wanted to post it. Tagging @bitsandbobsandstuff since she answered my question about Steve’s coffee order :) As always, let me know what you think and if you like it!

There’s a stack of books next to his bed that need to go back to the library. Probably overdue, he thinks, and he hasn’t read a single page. He feels a little guilty for it as he stares at their spines, blinking slow and sleepy.

A knock at the door.

“Hey man, you ready?” Sam pokes his head in, eyebrows up and expectant.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky nods. Finishes lacing his sneakers. Grabs a baseball cap from the doorknob on his way.

Steve is waiting by the front door, rolling his shoulders underneath a (frankly ridiculous) tight blue shirt. The corner of his mouth quirks up when he turns.

“Mornin’, Buck.”

“Morning.”

“He’s so damn chipper in the mornings,” Sam grins, slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “I feel perky just standing next to you, Tin Man.”

Bucky narrows his eyes but says nothing, just watches Steve shake his head like a fond mother. He knew by now that their animosity was mostly a pretense.

“Ready to go?” the Captain asks, rubbing his hands together, eager and alert despite the bags under his own eyes. Bucky suspects that Steve stays up to see if he needs him, listening for the sounds of his nightmares. He feels a little guilty for that, too.

They do a quick warm up outside, some leg swings and lunges and jumping jacks to get the blood flowing. It’s mostly for Sam - Bucky doesn’t know if it’s possible for him or Steve to pull a muscle, but it definitely won’t be on their morning runs. But they do the routine together anyways, the three of them, their breaths puffing in the spring morning air.

It’s only a couple of miles from their place to Prospect Park, and Bucky and Steve jog at a reasonable pace for Sam’s sake. The conversation is easy between them now - Sam’s date last week with the nurse from the medical wing, Steve’s painting class, Bucky’s therapy sessions. He’s noncommittal on any specifics, but he admits that he thinks they help. And that’s enough - Sam and Steve don’t press him, happy to have him out and moving and living under a sunrise. They take a few laps through the curving paths of the park, nodding to other early morning runners.

About 6 miles in, Bucky yawns.

“Are we gonna actually run today, Rogers, or are we letting the flightless bird set the pace?”

Steve cocks an eyebrow and glances to his left at Sam, the only member of their trio with a collection of sweat on his chest and under his arms and little beads of it running down his face.

“If you think you can keep up, jerk.”

Sam is left behind somewhere around the lake, yelling something about not being afraid to “beat senior citizen ass.”

Here’s the thing about being a super soldier: it doesn’t feel that crazy most of the time. Bucky knows he’s not straining when he moves an entire rack of weights in the gym, or lifts the back end of a car to help put a jack under it. Tony rented out batting cages for the team one time, and he broke the bat on the first swing, simultaneously popping the stitches on the ball. He plays this little game sometimes where he tries to balance as much weight as he can on his index finger - he’s managed 40 pounds so far on his human hand.

But none of that feels special when he does it. Being strong is just a fact about him. It doesn’t make him feel superhuman. “Enhanced”.

Running, though.

When he and Steve go for runs, legs stretching forward and pavement barely felt as it flows beneath their feet, the world feels different. Slower. They dart around the joggers and strollers in their path, and Bucky watches them slip behind him in slow motion. They propel their bodies like bullets, their cadence the rapidfire staccato of a machine gun. The trees ebb and grow in cresting waves of green as the soldiers fly past.

Flying, Bucky thinks. That’s how he feels now.

Steve is a half beat ahead of him, and his head turns in profile, eyes cutting to find Bucky’s. The corner of his lip twitches.

“Tired yet?”

“Not on your life, punk.”

Steve laughs as he nearly doubles their pace, legs a blur to the eyes of everyone they pass. Bucky follows, gripping the bill of his cap as it threatens to fly up at their speed. He shifts it around backwards, the way he sees Sam wear his sometimes. They turn up the periphery of the park to the northeast, chasing the half-risen sun, now above the buildings and trees around them. Bucky can see the shape of the public library as they pass by, the bronze gate gleaming in the morning light. Some of his old gear, Army stuff and boxing gloves and pictures of him and Steve sitting on the hood of a jeep in France, had been on display with their historical collection when he got here - got home - a few months ago. Sam showed him when they went there; Bucky had leaned close, tried to recognize that kid under the glass.

The supersoldiers put in about 20 miles before they decide to find Sam, now that they’ve finally broken a sweat. Cutting across the grass, they slow their pace to human level and look for their friend. Sam is still by the lake, stretching in the grass while laughing with a girl with a long braided ponytail and crazy tight workout clothes. Bucky and Steve share a look as they jog across the lawn, but act polite when the starstruck girl realizes who Sam’s running buddies are.

After taking a couple selfies with them, the girl jogs off to get ready for work, ponytail swinging behind her. Steve raises an eyebrow in Sam’s direction.

“So, what about that nurse?”

Sam gives him the finger.

***************************************************************************************

“Look man, all I’m saying is, you could give it a shot,” Sam shrugs, sipping from his to-go cappuccino. “I mean, who knows, there’s probably plenty of ladies out there who are into this whole thing.” He waves the coffee cup to gesture to Bucky’s entire body.

Bucky frowns. “I have a thing?”

“Sure, you know the brooding, emotionally tortured, dark past kinda thing.” Sam slaps his shoulder. “Lean into it, chicks dig that.”

Bucky nearly chokes on his own drink as he glares at Sam. Steve hides his smile behind his complete monstrosity of a drink. A limited edition something, the clear cup holds 20 ounces of frozen tie-dye, swirling in red, blue, and yellow, and topped with a mountain of whipped cream. Steve Rogers, ever the little shit, had ordered this drink with a straight face, and now slurps loudly on his straw, while taking breaks to run his finger through the whipped cream. Bucky can see the name “Cap” scrawled in neat sharpie on the side of the cup, with a star drawn next to it.

“I’m not interested, okay,” Bucky shrugs, dodging a piece of gum on the sidewalk. They had gotten coffee on their walk back to the brownstone, and were discussing a topic that now made Bucky’s skin crawl with discomfort - women.

“Hey, you don’t have to be looking for a wife,” Sam goes on. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to download an app or two. Tinder. Bumble. Something.”

“Aw, lay off him, Sam,” Steve finally speaks up, shaking his head. “Bucky’s not ready. Maybe he’ll feel like it when he’s back to his old lady killer self.”

Bucky cringes at the phrase, at the half-formed memories it conjures. A swaggering Brooklyn kid who spent far too much time combing his hair and winking at pretty girls. He remembers tucking flowers into the lapel of his suit jacket, spending hours shining his shoes, just to spend a night dancing with some pretty girl he’d never see again. He could barely bring himself to talk to strangers anymore, let alone ask one on a date.

“Shut up, Rogers,” he mumbles into his coffee. “That Bucky is dead and buried.”

He doesn’t have to look to know that Steve’s face has that stricken grimace he pulls whenever Bucky says something dark and self-deprecating. He wishes he could say those things without making Steve feel guilty, cause now he feels guilty…

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Buck…”

“I know, I know,” Bucky waves him off. “Just quit tryin’ to set me up, both of you. Let an old man rest, will you? Jeez…”

His little joke is enough to put Steve and Sam at ease again, and the conversation turns to Steve’s equally lackluster love life until they reach their place and shuffle up the front steps. Ivy creeps and climbs up the walls for this entire block of buildings, and Bucky wonders if someone planted it there. He likes the lush green of it, especially in the morning.

The 3 of them part ways to hit the showers. In his room again, Bucky’s eye is drawn back to his sad little pile of books.

Sam is smart. An asshole, yes, but smart. Which is why his book choices tend to include biographies, history, political topics - the stack on the nightstand includes only one novel, a recent bestseller about a retired veteran adopting a dog. Bucky remembers reading, being a reader - he remembers bringing home books from school or trading them at the bookstore or receiving them as gifts from Steve. But not those kinds of books. Nothing boring. Nothing to remind him of the uncertain, hard world he lived in.

He stares at the spines of Sam’s books for a few more moments, then hurries through the shower, his mind made up.

***************************************************************************************

“Um, excuse me,” he clears his throat at the front desk. “I need to return these, but, uh. I think - well, they’re overdue.”

Bucky tries a smile at the clerk, a middle-aged woman with a short-cropped haircut, but he can feel how unnatural it looks on his face. The clerk raises an eyebrow at him - he realizes he should have waited a bit before coming here; the tips of his hair are still wet, tiny wet spots coloring the shoulders on his hoodie.

“Well, let’s scan them and see,” she sighs, pulling his books across the desk. Bucky shifts, his hands curling and uncurling in his front pockets. The old Bucky could probably charm his way out of the fine, but this one? Not a chance in hell, Barnes. The librarian grabs the first book and scans the barcode taped to the plastic jacket.

His books are 13 days overdue - costing him a grand total of $5.20. He thinks of Steve’s now expensive coffee habit as he hands over the bill and change. There goes one of his frozen sugar nightmares.

With his fine taken care of, Bucky wanders his way through the fiction section, his eyes passing over names and titles without catching on anything. Sam’s books weren’t his taste. But he doesn’t even remember his own taste. Gloved fingers drift over the shelves, tapping on the wood.

“Can I help you find something?”

Bucky is embarrassed to be so startled - his head jerks around to see the old man standing there, a warm smile on his face. His shoulders are stooped a little, hands clasped behind his back as he tilts his head up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“No...well, I don’t know,” Bucky huffs. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, I see,” the man nods. The crooked name tag on his striped shirt reads ‘Marvin’. “Would you like some recommendations, then?”

Bucky hesitates, quirking the corner of his mouth down.

“I guess so,” he nods. “I like...fiction. But I haven’t really read anything in a long time.”

Marvin nods quietly, pursing his lips. His eyes pass over the shelves behind his coke bottle glasses, tapping a finger to his chin.

“Follow me,” he shuffles down the aisle, waving a hand behind him. Bucky obeys, turning the corner onto the next set of author’s names. Marvin’s mouth moves silently as he walks along, searching and searching.

“Aha! Here we go.” He reaches up to a shelf at eye level, taking a book and showing Bucky the front cover. “This has been a classic since it was published, really. And the author wrote a trilogy that followed. It’s fantasy, maybe that’s your thing?”

“I...I’m trying new things,” Bucky decides, clearing his throat as he takes the book, admiring the pastoral scene on the cover. “Um, you said he wrote other books?”

Marvin smiles and turns back to the shelf, reaching for the adjacent books.

******************************************************************************************

Bucky’s backpack makes a ‘thunk’ sound as he drops it next to his bed, closing the door with his foot. He had loaned all four books that Marvin suggested, eager as he read their inside covers. Maybe he and Steve and Sam could watch the movie adaptations sometime, on one of their pizza nights. He had always opted out of choosing a movie, so overwhelmed by the options and apathetic to Sam’s DVD library. But maybe he would suggest it to Steve next time. Steve would like that.

He toes off his sneakers, shuffling back and messing up the comforter on his perfectly made bed. When he first moved in, he thought the room was furnished with way too many pillows - who needs more than one pillow? Now he fluffs the three behind his back and props himself up against the headboard, leaning over to slip the first book out of his backpack. He settles back on his bed, folds back the cover to the first chapter.

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”

Tags

@vacant-writings

[silverarmedassassin]

Day Six: A Christmas Date

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (College AU) Word Count: 4269 - sorry this one kind of got away from me whoops Summary: Bucky is desperate to find a date for his fraternity's Christmas party. You happen to stumble into the conversation at the wrong time. Or is it? 

A/N: And we’re back! I’ve had a really rough past couple of days and couldn’t get any writing done, so I’m going to be playing catch up for the next few days. I hope to have days 7, 8 and 9 all out by tomorrow evening, but we’ll see. I have tomorrow off so I’ll have plenty of time to write and edit what I already have written! Enjoy! 

2019 Christmas Masterlist 

“Come on Stevie. Peggy has to have at least one cute single friend she can hook me up with!”

Steve looks over the top of the espresso machine he’s working with and glares at Bucky. His best friend is currently sulking over his coffee at the pick-up counter as he complains about this week’s girl issues. “Buck, I’m working.”

“But Dot’s gonna be there with her new boyfriend! If I show up alone, I’m gonna look like a total loser!”

“You’re going to look like a loser no matter what you do,” your voice chimes in as you walk up next to Bucky at the counter. You smile at Steve as he starts to prepare your usual order, and Bucky grumbles into his coffee. “What’s this one crying about now?”

“His fraternity is hosting a Christmas party and he doesn’t have a date. Word is Dottie’s gonna be there and Bucky’s freaking out.”

“Ahh,” you hum as you lean on your elbows and look towards Bucky. “What happened to the girl - was it Misty? - that’s been hanging around the past few weeks?

He glares at you as he straightens up. “It was Mandy. And we wanted...different things.”

“Oh, so she wanted something serious and you just wanted to get your dick wet?”

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee, and you’re sure you’re going to have to call an ambulance on Steve for how hard he’s laughing. You can’t help but chuckle yourself as he leans over the counter to fist bump you between his wheezing.

“You know Buck,” Steve says as he attempts to steady himself, “you should take Y/N!”

“What!?” you and Bucky exclaim at the same time. Bucky in a panic and you shocked that Steve would even drag you into the situation.

“Yea! She knows you’re a terrible date, and she can put up with your shit. Plus, there’d be no,” Steve wiggles his eyebrows then, “expectations at the end of the night. And she’s the only one in the group that’s single.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “What about Carol? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“Everyone knows Carol is gay. It’d be too unbelievable.” Steve shrugs his shoulders like his suggestion is the obvious answer.

Bucky was quiet throughout the entire exchange while he fought his own internal battle. On one hand, he’d been considering asking you to be his date. Not out of desperation, but because he truly wanted to spend time with you, show you off not just to Dot, but to everyone.

But on the other hand, the sensible, realistic hand, he knew you’d laugh in his face if he’d ask you. Not that you were cruel, it was just that your friendship hadn’t always been as carefree and easy as it was now. Plus, he didn’t want to use you of all people to rub in Dot’s face.

The party was in less than eight hours, however, and he was getting a little bit desperate. Maybe Steve bringing up the date could really save him.

Fuck it, Bucky thinks to himself, I’m just gonna ask her.

“Yea! Come on, Y/N, be my date!” He puts on his best pouty face and bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “Pleeeeease? Can’t you pretend you don’t hate me for just one night? I’ll buy you your coffee for an entire week straight. Please!”

“Okay! Okay, okay, you’re making a scene,” you shush Bucky as his pleas grow louder, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to the counter. “I’ll go with you, just stop!”

Bucky stops pouting and gives you an exasperated look. “Wait, really? You’ll really go with me?” He tries not to let the excitement seep through his tone.

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a good party. Plus, I’m never going to pass up free alcohol.”

Bucky bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, but his excitement is too much to contain. “Yes!” he says as he punches the air. “You don’t know how much you’re saving my ass, really I-”

He’s cut off when his phone starts to vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looks back to you and Steve. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says as he starts backing up towards the front door. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 5:30, okay?”

Before you can respond, Bucky is planting a chaste kiss to the side of your head and running out of the coffee shop. You sigh as you lean back and watch him through the shop’s windows.

“You know, if you could just keep it in his pants for more than a day, maybe he could find someone to commit it.”

Steve slides your drink over the counter towards you as his best friend disappears down the street towards campus. “Yea,” he says, turning his gaze on the back of your head. “But I think the girl he’s really interested in is too far out of reach for him.”

You turn and grab your coffee and shrug. “I better get going too. You have a job to do and I have a dress to go buy! Thanks, Stevie!”

You wave as you make your way towards the front door, and Steve just shakes his head. “They’re such idiots,” he says under his breath before turning his attention back to his work.

When 5:20 p.m. rolls around, you’re standing in front of the mirror in your room, twirling side to side so that you can examine your dark purple, crushed velvet dress. The skirt, as your roommate Natasha described it, is a nice flirty length, falling midthigh. Although not too revealing, the dress still revealed enough skin on top to be a little hazardous. With the neckline scooping to just above the valley of your breasts, and the back going down just as far, you felt

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as you examine your backside again.

Natasha, who is sprawled out on your bed, sighs and looks up from her chemistry textbook for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re going to have every guy at that party begging on their knees for your attention.”

You make eye contact through the mirror but quickly avert your gaze. “Yeah, but what will Buc-”

“What will Bucky what?” Natasha interrupts you as she sits up fully. “It’s just Bucky. Since when does his opinion on what you do or wear matter?”

You bite your lip. She’s right, it is just Bucky. But that was the problem. You’re not sure when just Bucky started causing your stomach to do somersaults and your heart feel like it was going to explode in your chest.

It’s not like you hadn’t known Bucky for almost three years. It’s not like you had fallen for his devilishly handsome looks the moment he stepped foot into your freshman English class. Or his ridiculous charm when you accidentally ran into him in the dorm hallway one morning when you were running late for class. 

And it’s not like you’ve spent the last four years burying those feelings under every ounce of willpower you had. No, it’s just Bucky and his opinion doesn’t matter at all. 

Except it does.

A knock on your front door draws you from your thoughts and does nothing to calm the cage of butterflies that had been released in your tummy the second you’d agreed to go to this party.

Natasha jumps off the bed and out into the living room. “Coming!” she sing-songs as she makes her way to the front door. “What a gentleman, coming to meet the parents before he takes ya on a date.”

“Nat” you grumble as you grab your bag and phone from your dresser. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and turn off the light. Here goes nothing.

As you emerge from the hall, Natasha has already ushered Bucky into the apartment. Your steps falter a little when you catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing your favorite red Henley and dark jeans combo with his worn leather jacket thrown over the top.  

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. A shy smile creeps across his face as he tunes whatever Natasha had been talking about with him out. She picks up on this, because she turns to look at you too.

“Oh goody!” she claps before pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Get together kids, I need to document this moment! It’s like you’re going to prom!”

“Nat,” you hiss as you make your way towards the door.

“Just one picture. We need to document the one and only time James Barnes has clean hair and looks like a right gentleman!”

One picture turns into five different staged photos, and before you know it Bucky is pulling at your arm to get you out the door. “I’m sorry Tasha, but we really have to go!”

“Be safe, kids! Use protection! I don’t any any grandbabies yet!!” Natasha calls after you, wheezing as she does so. You were going to kill her when you get home tonight.

You take a deep breath as Bucky pulls up in front of the massive fraternity house. The white colonial-style home, complete with columns and a beautiful front porch, was far too nice for a group of college-aged men to living, breaking and...doing god knows what.

“Nervous?” Bucky asks from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t dare rip his gaze from the line of cars in front of his.

“No,” you say far too quickly to be convincing. Why the hell were you so nervous?! “Are you?”

Bucky shrugs then and unbuckles his seatbelt. “First time seeing Dot since the breakup. It’s not my idea of a great party.” He turns to look at you then, a soft smile playing on his face. “But I’ve got a beautiful date to make me feel a little better.”

You roll your eyes and unbuckle your own belt. “Shut up,” you grumble as you shove the car door open. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin and right to the butterflies.

Before you can even make it out of the car, Bucky is around to your side holding the door like the gentleman he isn’t. He sheepishly smiles when you give him a look and shrugs it off.

“Gotta make it look believable,” he says with a laugh.

As the two of you make your way to the front door, Bucky is stopped by a few of the guys. Fortunately, you know most of them since your group of friends spends a decent amount of time together, so no introductions are needed. A few of them do, however, side-eye you for a moment before patting Bucky on the back in a congratulatory manner. You try to brush it off as guys just being guys.

When you finally reach the far-too-grand front door, complete with an old-fashioned knocker, Bucky stops.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” he asks shyly.

“What?!”

“Not like...Y/N! I mean like, holding your hand, and dancing. You know, like boyfriend things.”

Please, you yell inside your head. Outwardly, you keep your calm.

“Get enough alcohol in me,” you say as you pat his scruffy cheek, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

If you’re going to make it believable, you might as well embrace the part, right?

Bucky practically chokes on his own tongue. “Right. Uh, shall we?” he says as he motions towards the door.

He guides you through the foyer and into the main room of the house where bodies were spilling out into the hall and into the smaller library and sitting rooms, hand firmly planted on your lower back. It seems like every other person you pass wants his attention, but he’s focused on getting the two of you into the heart of the party, probably to camouflage himself so Dot wouldn’t spot him.

“Hey. Bucky!” Christopher, who you know as the fraternity’s president, waves at Bucky from around a box of store-bought chicken. “I know you helped all day, but can you give me a hand with the rest of the food? It just got delivered.”

Bucky looks between you and Chris and sighs. “I’m really sorry,” he starts, shoulder dropping in defeat knowing he can’t possibly say no. He is one of the biggest and strongest of the brothers and was used to getting called upon to do the heavy lifting around the house.

“It’s fine,” you say waving him off. “I’m going to get a drink. Want your usual?”

He smiles at this and nods. “I’ll be back in five, promise!”

You watch him jog out the door Chris had just emerged from, and you turn to make your way to the kitchen. It was quieter, not as many bodies lingering around, so you decide you’ll camp out in there until Bucky comes back.

You’re just grabbing a beer for Bucky and wine cooler for yourself when a familiar voice calls your name.

“It is you!” Dot says when you turn around to see who was beckoning you. She hurries over and gives you a tight squeeze like it hadn’t been three months since she broke the heart of one of your best friends. Like she hadn’t destroyed the one person who’s happiness sometimes meant more to you than your own.

Taking one look at her, you suddenly feel very self-conscious. She’s an absolute vision in a deep evergreen dress that falls just above her knee. One thing you’d always loved about Dot was her effortless, vintage style. The dress screamed the 1940s and was something that would have made you look like you were in costume.

Her red hair was curled to perfection and framed her striking features perfectly. You were silly to think that Bucky would ever feel anything towards you when he had dated her for nearly four years. The encounter had you second-guessing why you’d even agreed to come to this party in the first place.

“How have you been? I miss seeing your smiling face every day!” Dot says cheerfully. In her typical energetic way, she doesn’t give you time to respond. “You look beautiful by the way! That color really suits you!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” a man you don’t recognize says as he walks up and wraps his arms around Dot’s middle.

“Oh hush,” she giggles as she leans into the kiss he plants on the side of her head. You shift your weight from side-to-side, uncomfortable with the exchange in front of you. It must catch Dot’s attention because she snaps out of the love bubble she had been in and looks back to you.

“Oh! I’m so rude! Y/N, this is Danny. Danny, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Danny says as he extends one hand away from Dot to shake yours. You give a tight smile and return the gesture.

“Y/N and I ran in the same group for a while at the beginning of college. But, you know, life got in the way. It’s so nice to see you, though! I don’t think I ever saw you at one of these parties back when...” she just shrugs and decides not to finish the thought.

“Things change, I guess,” you awkwardly laugh.

Before things can get any more awkward, Bucky comes in through the door calling your name. He doesn’t see Dot and Danny at first, and so bounds over to you in two quick strides before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I guess they do,” Dot says as she watches Bucky pull you closer into his side.

You want to preen at the obvious change in tone, an almost bitterness lacing her words now, but you know it’s just for show and she has nothing to actually be bitter about. This is the exact reason Bucky had even wanted you to come with him, and at least for his sake, it was working. Without thinking, you wrap an arm around his solid, broad middle.

“Dot!” Bucky exclaims in his smooth, confident tone you’d come to love. Bucky was nothing if not confident with the ladies, which is why he had a new one almost every week since the duo had broken up. He was also a great actor. You know for a fact that this confidence was just a front. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Surprise,” she says, pulling Danny’s arms a little tighter around her middle. Her gaze lingers on Bucky’s fingers as they start absentmindedly tracing shapes along your velvet-sleeved arm. “I didn’t know you two were...together.”

You can feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. “Surprise!”

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a dull knife. You look up at Danny who is glancing back and forth between Bucky and Dot, obviously not knowing what was going on. Unable to stand the awkward tension, you pat Bucky’s side gently to gain his attention.

“I’m, uh, gonna run to the restroom. Come find me when you’re done in here?”

Bucky glances at you and swallows hard. His eyes are pleading you to stay, but there’s nothing you can do to remedy the situation. Just like you’d told him on the way over, if he ever really wanted to let this go, he was going to have to talk to her sooner or later.

You take pity on him though and lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be gone for just a few,” you whisper before releasing your grip on him and making towards the hallway.

When you emerge from the bathroom three minutes later, you can hear yelling over the music. As you make your way back towards the kitchen, you come to find that it was Bucky and Dot who was the source of the commotion.

Everyone has cleared out of the kitchen now, including Danny, so you choose to stay away. Deciding you’d rather not hang awkwardly around waiting for Bucky, and not feeling like striking up a conversation with anyone you know, you head out to the front porch. Luckily the weather has been mild this year, so you won’t freeze while you wait for Bucky to come to find you.

Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and you start getting a little antsy. There’s no way he was still in there talking with Dottie.

Despite the faux-date, you had been hoping to spend some time with Bucky. You thought that since he’d asked, begged you to come with that he would at least keep you on his arm while he made his rounds. But it was starting to look like that was not going to happen.

You check the time again and sigh, deciding that you’ll just call Natasha or even Clint to come to pick you up. You didn’t feel like wandering around the party by yourself, and you didn’t want to ask Bucky to leave in the middle just to take you home.

You shoot a quick text to Bucky to let him know what was going on, told him you weren’t feeling well and Natasha was coming to pick you up. It wasn’t completely a lie, just not the whole truth either. You call Nat and luckily she’s in the middle of a study break and agrees to come to get you in fifteen.

You wait for a text from Bucky, hoping it would be him telling you not to go, but it never comes. So when Natasha pulls up, you decide to leave the party, and hopefully your feelings for Bucky behind.

You’re awoken at 3:30 a.m. by your phone buzzing. You pointedly ignore it and turn over and try to go back to sleep. As soon as the call ends, another comes in immediately. You huff and roll back over, angrily yanking the phone from its place on your nightstand. Bucky Boy the caller id reads.

Before your tired brain can process what’s going on, the call ends and another immediately starts back up. “Hello?” you rasp into the phone, throat dry with disuse.

“Y/N!” Bucky slurs into the phone, obviously drunk. It startles you for a moment before you remember that he doesn’t need to drive anywhere since he lives at the frat house. “You left me at the party.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, definitely not wanting to have this discussion with drunk Bucky, let alone sober Bucky. “I wasn’t feeling well so I came home.”

“But you looked so pretty and I didn’t even getta tell ya. I didn’t even getta dance with you!” You can hear him pouting through the phone and you can’t help but give a silent laugh.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“No!” he shouts defiantly like a child. “Ya gotta listen to me, Y/N. Dottie...Dot, she tried to tell me that I didn’t really like you, that she could see through our facade. At first I got real mad, because that’s not what wasna sposed to happen. She was supposed to see us together, because it’s us, and get real jealous.

“But ya know what, Y/N, she was always jealous of you. ‘Cause you’re smart and caring, and funny and nice, and,” he stops to hiccup then. “And you’re jus so beautiful, ya know? She should be jealous of you because she’s not you and you’re you, ya know? And I know you’re gonna try and tell me I’m jus saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, but I’m not!”

Your head starts to spin a little as he continues talking. Every other word is slurred worse than before, which helps remind you of the fact that, yes, he is just saying this because he’s drunk. He’s drunk and upset about Dot so he’s projecting. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Ya know, I still remember that first day in English. I stumbled in half asleep and late and the seat next to you was the first one I saw. I hated it because it was in the front - I mean come on Y/N, who sits in the front of the classroom! - and vowed to never sit there again, but I did. I did every day for the rest of the semester and I’m so glad I did.

“You know why Dot doesn’t like you? Because I think she figured it all out before me. She broke up with me because she knew she wasn’t ever gonna live up to you. And I hate myself for only being able to tell you this while I’m drunk, but please, in the morning, make me say it again, okay? Because I like you and I think the feeling is mutual, but I’ve always been too scared to say something.

“And then stupid Dot came along and she was safe. I couldn’t ruin a friendship if there wasn’t one to begin with, so I settled. But I don’t wanna settle anymore, okay? So make me tell ya all of this again in the morning ‘cause I need to. You need to know.”

Tears start to drop down onto your cheeks, leaving salty trails as they do so. You’re not sure what to say, so you sit there and let him ramble on. You’d dreamt about this moment countless times before, Bucky confessing his feelings to you, but you never thought it would happen like this. Not when you’re half-awake with terrible bedhead and with Bucky three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you’ll take it.

Bucky’s quiet a little too long then, and you can hear his breathing over the phone as slowed a little. “Bucky?” you ask quietly into the speaker, but you’re met with only his soft breaths. He must have fallen asleep. Good. A sniffle a little before letting out a deep breath. “Good night, Buck. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

In the morning. Hopefully, in the morning everything he had just confessed to you would still stand true. That you would be able to confess your own feelings and something good could finally come from it.

You hang up and shoot him a quick text before you can second guess it. Returning your phone to its charger on the nightstand, you roll over and feel the butterflies come back. In the morning.

You: Hey Buck. Drunk you had some interesting things to say tonight. He wanted me to make sober you retell me everything in the morning, so I’m holding you to it. How about breakfast? We can make it a date. A real one this time. 

[musingmycelium]

MMMMM gonna be THAT person and ask alllll the questions for the quizzy as companion meme for whomever you desire :D

:0! under a read more for obvious reasons ljlkjlkjlkjkj

1, 8, and 9 answered here

2. How would they meet the Inquisitor? depends on how they came to the inquisition! if he came with idrilla, and honestly that means linayel too, then he would meet the quizzy upon arrival to skyhold, having sent word of their visit beforehand [though not too far before]. if by himself he would just show up and request audience with them -making himself available as an agent.

3. What would some of their cutscenes look like?!! his haven cutscene -if triggered with appropriate approval- would be in the woods outside the main settlement, he’d take the quizzy out into the quiet snow and share some dalish mead with them and offer conversation if they would like it and silence if they don’t. at the end he’ll tell them they were looking overwhelmed and taking a step back to breathe always aides with that.a high approval quizzy can get a cutscene at skyhold in the garden: da’ean tending plants until he notices quizzy walking over, at which point he’ll ask if quizzy has ever tended plants before and will offer to show them what he’s been growing. 

4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romancable?ever a quiet romantic da’ean is

5. If they romanced someone as Inquisitor, would they still fall for that person as a companion? How would that play out? How would they react to that person being romanced by the “new” Inquisitor?yes! so da’ean romances dorian and the iron bull in my canon, and depending on the quizzy he would romance an unromanced bull or dorian or both still. their relationship is pretty solid, though with da’ean as a companion there would be a few changes to their dynamic mostly in terms of da’ean doesn’t have to deal with the trauma of being quizzy lkjkljklj if either of them are romanced by the quizzy he’d approve so long as quizzy treats them well!

6. Write some of their party banter (in reaction to major events, scenery dialogue, or just shitting around. Askers can specify for which character/event, or leave it up to the writer).this honestly deserves a post of its own so like, i’ll do that.... later.....

7. What would be on their tombstone in the fade (what is their greatest fear)?da’ean’s tombstone read: Silenced and Forgotten

10. If Inquisition operated like DA:O, what would their gift items be? What would their approval and disapproval Feast Day items be?:o i don’t have the feast day dlc so i’ll skip that since i don’t have a base of ref for it lmao. his regular gift items would be flowers, dalish artifacts, and books. the two which would trigger cutscenes would be a small halla charm -a high approval quizzy would learn here about his sister, and an ancient looking book written in a mix of elvhen and arcaic tevene -da’ean would excitedly talk about it and with dorian’s help translate the book revealing it to be a dalish songbook.

11. How would they grow as a person? How would they compare at the end of the Inquisition as a companion to who they were as the Inquisitor?at the beginning da’ean is more reserved and less likely to actively engage with the quizzy, as he gets more comfortable and gets to know the quizzy he’ll open up quite drastically. in terms of character growth da’ean goes from someone who is still tied to the past and doesn’t look to the future into someone who actively makes the future the best it can be for himself and those he cares about -effectively taking his head out of his ass and learning to cope healthily with the past.

12. Do they believe the Herald of Andraste is really the Herald of Andraste?absolutely the fuck not. if the quizzy is also dalish there would be dialogue between them for how da’ean believes the quizzy is sent by mythal but otherwise no he doesn’t believe in the maker one whit, and andraste isn’t exactly in his good graces.

13. If the Herald didn’t have them tag along to prep the trebuchets, what would they do during the battle for Haven? (bonus: would they join in on the impromptu Dawn Will Come choir practice in the camp?)da’ean would organize the younger members of the inquisition and ensure they make it out of haven safely. and lmao he has a lovely singing voice but a chantry song will never fall from his lips

14. What nickname does Varric give them?songbird. which da’ean finds hilarious since his name means little bird

15. Without the influence of their decisions for the Inquisition, which of the companions do they get along with? Which ones do they bicker with?da’ean gets along well with bull and dorian [duh] and sera the best, though he is also friends with viv and solas and varric! he bickers the most with solas and cass.

16. What would the Fear Demon say to them in the Fade to try and discourage them?I HAVE. DIALOGUE I WROTE AGES AGO.... FROM MY LONGFIC SO I’M GONNA REDUCE, REUSE, RECYCLE THAT SHIT

“You’ll fail the Inquisition just like you failed your sister.” The silken voice of the Nightmare sent shivers running up Da’ean’s spine. He couldn’t explain the sense of wrong the voice gave him, even as the words it spoke wriggled their way into Da’ean’s thoughts like worms. The lie based on truth; how many times had he told himself it was his fault before, how many nights had he spent in fear of his own incompetence and inability to protect those he cared about. How long must he carry this guilt, a month ago he would have thought he would never be free of it. Helpless to his terror.

Now; as he saw the snarl on Dorian’s lips, the hard glint in Bull’s eye, the outrage pouring out from Solas’s entire body, he knew, he knew it was not through any fault of his own. His soiled past was not something he could change, but right here, right now, he could move on. He could chose to leave everything that burdened him in the hands of those who came with him. He could ease the burdens they carried without fear of making things worse.“Doubt me all you want, but you know the truth. It’s your fault the slavers caught her, and it will be your fault when Corypheus captures the world.” The Nightmare must be feeling desperate, it had already gone after Hawke and Stroud, and now it was focusing solely on Da’ean. The breath-warm air and disorienting light was causing him enough problems, but if the Nightmare grew bored of him, he would move on to his next target.

“If you think those are new thoughts Nightmare, you are dead wrong.” They were close, they had to be close to the rift. If Da’ean could hold his attention until they could flee, the rest of the part wouldn’t have to deal with it.“I’ve accepted my mistakes, I know what I’ve done.” The hard knot of old anxiety in Da’ean’s chest was gradually unravelling; his newfound beliefs, hard won and solid, slowing taking its place. “I am stronger for knowing myself, what about you Nightmare? What have you done that you regret, what things haunt your dreams?”

maker that’s old but i’m not gonna edit it bc i’m lazy and its late lkjljlkjklj

17. Where do they hang out in the Winter Palace? What’s their thoughts on the nobles/The Game?he’d be out on the open. area. thing??? where dorian is stan-THE COURTYARD, he’d be chillin in the courtyard. da’ean couldn’t give a nug’s ass about the nobles or the game and will show some harsh contempt for those in the palace with their noses in the air around him like he’s not even there.

18. What’s their reaction to a dragon showing up?“fuck this but also fuck this” and high fives bull

19. Once Corypheus is beaten, what do they do during the party? Do they stay with the Inquisition, or go somewhere else? What could the Inquisitor do to convince them to stay?during the party he’d be talking/drinking with sera and after the inquisition depends on his romance options. if he romanced dorian he’d follow him to tevinter bc Fuck You Bioware eat my entire ass to make sure he’s safe and to chill in the background since there’s no going back home. if he romanced bull or bull and dorian he would travel with the chargers as the newest member to the crew. a high approval quizzy could convince them to stay only if romanced

20. How do they react to learning abominations can retain their consciousness and identity, and even live peacefully with their spirits/demons, as seen in Stone-Bear Hold?psst. pssssssst... the dalish already know and you can take that hc from my cold dead hands.... BUT he’d be excited to see it recognized and would want to talk with the augur extensively

21. What do they think of the discoveries made in the Deep Roads? Do they make any comments on anything?Buck Fuckin Wild is da’ean’s take on the deep roads. he doesn’t like the claustrophobic feel they give him, he does have Some Thoughts on the titans and talks about them with idrilla.

22. If you have another Inquisitor, how would those two get along, specifically?UUUHHHHH i have his older sister idrilla who isn’t a quizzy normally but in an au she might have been the quizzy and they get along great!

23. In trespasser, what “gift” would they give the Inquisitor, if any?a halla charm! one linayel carved for just this purpose and it’s threaded on a strip of leather.

24. What are their plans for after the Exalted Council? Will the Inquisition staying in tact or being disbanded make a difference?he goes back to doing what he was doing before it, it doesn’t change much unless he was romanced and then its dependant on player choice

25. In the alternate reality, if they were corrupted with lyrium, how do they act? What’s their attitude about the end of the world/their inevitable death? oh fuck da’ean would fall deeper into depression, lose all sense of time/meaning and he would just end up with total and complete apathy

[wtfholland]

20, 23, 25 with tom ☺️☺️

how about CEO!tom? ;)

this ended up being so long wtf i need to control myself

Thank you for your request! :)

requests are closed! thank you so much to everyone who made requests❤️ they are in the process of being written, thanks for being so patient☺️

listen to this while reading♫

I hissed as I burnt my fingers for around the fourth time on the pan that held a roasted chicken, which was still scorching; I was attempting to remove the bird from the pan onto a much nicer and presentable dish. I spent the entire day cooking and preparing Tom’s favourite meals and dishes. I felt pretty accomplished because this was the first time I didn’t have to call Nikki over to give me a hand. The house was swimming with the most delicious smells if I do say so myself. My heart did somersaults as I set a bottle of Tom’s most favoured wine on the table, pleased with the presentation of tonight’s dinner.

He was gonna be home in about ten minutes. After triple checking that everything was in its correct place, Tessa was sleeping soundly on her plush doggie bed beside the couch so she wouldn’t try hopping on the edge of the table to swipe food, I scampered up the stairs to the bathroom to make sure I looked presentable for my man. After the news of Tom’s company getting more  worldwide consumer attention, requesting and ultimately resulting in major expansion, himself and his colleagues were over the moon, bursting with nothing but joy. They had just launched one of their most anticipated events, along with charity work that was being done and Tom was ecstatic at the overwhelming feedback and success of it all. Of course, he had been building this business with his father for years and years; His brothers, mother and Harrison showing their endless support, as well as me.

Unfortunately, since the prime growth of the company, Tom and I haven’t had very much time together anymore. He was constantly working late, staying behind at the office to finish important projects, sometimes going to the bar with his work friends and coming home at around 2am, disturbing my sleep and waking up Tessa. Before there are any assumptions made, no, Tom is not cheating on me. Harrison and Tom are attached at the hip during any time of the day, except whenever he’d be with me (…which isn’t very often anymore) and Haz would always notify me that he was on his way to Tom and I’s house to drop of a very exhausted CEO. Usually, I’d only open the texts after the fact or in the morning since I’d be sleeping already. Following that, Tom would be up bright and early, ready to leave for work. I’d barely even get a goodbye before I heard the front door closing, my boyfriend leaving to work the entire day. Tonight was the night I planned to really show him how much I care for him, how much I love him and how much I miss him.

Tom and I had met four years ago in the old record store I used to work at. It was close to my university and I really needed the money, textbooks are fucking expensive. He came in, looking so out of place with his long black trench coat, suit and tie, polished shoes, and combed hair. I could hear my co-worker Joel, who was working the register, trying to suppress his cackles as he gawked at the stranger’s get up. I averted my vision away from the two and got back to stocking the records accordingly. Country, rock, alternative, disco, disco-fusion, screamo, R&B, bubblegum pop…you get the point.

“Heyah there, sir. What can I do for you today?” Joel chimed. I turned my head slightly to drink in more of the handsome stranger’s appearance. He had flawless skin from what I could see from that distance, complimented by his trimmed dark brown hair, the strands curling softly at his nape. His face was very structured, and despite the heavy coat he sported that was essentially eating him alive, you could tell he worked out; And not to mention that this guy reeked of money. He probably had enough pocket change to buy the store, maybe even the whole neighbourhood.

“Uh hi, I was wondering if you guys had any, um, records of the…Foo Fighters? I think that’s what they’re called.” Richie Rich asked Joel, clearly unsure of himself. Joel caught a glance of me ogling at the man, to which I shot daggers at him and turned back to the shelves. Country, rock, alternative…

“Ah, mate, see that girl over there? Well you’re gonna have to ask her. I just work the register, I don’t really know what the hell we’re carrying. We could be stocking a collaboration between Cyndi Lauper and Marilyn Manson for all I know!” Joel snorted. This fucking fruitcake, I swear he’s gonna get his ass fired some day. “I see. Uh, thanks.” Mr. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang said. As I heard his footsteps approach me, my arms tensed and my mind went into full panic mode. I was absolute shit at talking to guys, attractive guys, rich looking attractive guys…Country, bubblegum pop, disco, shit!

“Excuse me, miss?” a voice as smooth and luxurious as a symphony tested, fingers tapping my shoulder delicately. Country, R&B—ah, fuck it. I turned my head casually to look at the guy, up close and personal and holy fuck, I needed to change my pants. This guy was the definition of sexy. He was practically sex on legs. My lips opened and closed, making me look like a fish. C’mon, Y/N! Get your shit together. “Uh, hey there! I mean, h-hi, sir. What can I do you for?” I felt all the blood rush from my face and my eyes bulge. “Shit, I mean, not do you, I mean what can I help you with, sir? I-I stock the records and CDs and…stuff.” I panted, really studying this guy’s demeanour now that he was right in front of me. Please shut up, Y/N! Stop talking! Stop moving your lips!

I felt kind of intimidated being so close to this guy. He looked like he was made out of a million—a billion bucks while I was pretty much made out of arcade tokens with my blink-182 shirt, over-worn ripped jeans and thifted Doc Marten knock offs. He smiled at me and I was certain I had died. “Hey, the guy at the register told me to come and talk to you.” he explained. I looked past him to see Joel driving his right index finger in the space he made between his left fist, imitating his “O” face. I rolled my eyes and averted my attention back to my customer. “Oh, yeah, he’s quite the character.” I giggled. He looked down for a second and then moved his gaze back up to me. “I was wondering if you guys carried anything by the Foo Fighters. If you don’t have any vinyls, CDs would be just fine.” the stranger questioned, still grinning at me. Wow, he was beautiful.

“Y-yeah, we only have Foo Fighters on vinyl. Is that okay, sir?” I stuttered, still nervous to be in his presence. “Yes, of course, love. And just between you and me, you don’t need to call me ‘sir’, by the way. I’m only 23.” he stated. I just nodded and smiled, not too sure how to respond since he just called me love! “My name is Tom.” He stuck his hand out for me to shake and I snorted at his gesture. I accepted his hand and felt a jolt of electricity, lightening, something move up my arm and invade my body. “You say not to call you ‘sir’ but your old school actions say otherwise.” I teased, loving the feeling of his warm hand in mine. “I’m Y/N.”

We separated and I swear I saw a streak of disappointment in his eyes, but it disappeared quickly. “Hm, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” he flattered me. Holy hell, I am ready to get on my knees for this guy. When I didn’t respond (out of disbelief), he smirked and shook his head. “So I guess I’m not just old school, I’m also a cliché.” he chuckled. I let out a nervous laugh, “No, no, I…like cliché. I mean I also like original things but cliché is good too. That was really nice, thank you, Tom.” I said giddily, he nodded at me in response.

After a couple more minutes of me being a flimsy idiot, I finally showed him what he was asking for and gave him my recommendations on which records overpowered others. Tom told me about how his youngest brother starting getting into Foo Fighters and his birthday was coming up so he thought he’d surprise him with some brand new LPs.

“So, um, I hope you don’t mind me asking but do you live around here? Sorry, that sounds so creepy.” Tom questioned as I scanned a copy of The Colour and the Shape and Wasting Light. “No, it’s fine!” I reassured almost too quickly. “I actually go to Kingston University, it’s not too far from here. I live on campus with my best friend.” I described, my thumb jutting out and pointing behind me.

Tom nodded understandingly and pulled out his wallet. “I see. That’s such a coincidence because I actually own th—uh…n-nevermind.” he trailed off, suddenly looking unsure. My eyes lit up as I grabbed a plastic bag from underneath the register. “No, tell me!” I pushed. Relax, Y/N. I gently put his purchase in the bag and handed it to him. He took it from me, fingers grazing my skin. My face immediately heated up and I looked down at the register, fiddling with the buttons. Tom cleared his throat, “Uh, how much do I owe you, love?” He tapped a golden credit card against the counter. Love again. “Um, seventeen pounds.” I replied.

I’d like him to give me seventeen pounds.

I looked away as Tom punched in his pin, trying to figure out what to say next. I’ll admit, I didn’t want him to leave but I didn’t have a clue on how to stall him. I looked back at Tom shoving his wallet back into the deep pockets of his trench coat. “Look, I…I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you…” He took a deep breath, “…go out to dinner with me.” My eyebrows basically crawled up into my hair line, they were raised so high. I was shocked. This guy, this fucking sex god is asking me out to dinner? Tom’s expression began to fall because of the silence. Y/N! Answer him, you dumb ass!

“Yes, she will!” Joel’s voice boomed from behind me, coming out of nowhere. I turned back to look at him and then back to Tom, his wild eyebrows anchored up as well. “Well, Y/N? Will you go on a date with me?” Tom repeated, leaning in closer. I was slowly melting in my shoes, a party was going on in my head. A sweet smile crept on my face, I leaned forward as well. His cologne hit me like a semi-truck, he smelt so damn good! How did I not notice this before?

“Yes, Tom. I’ll go out with you.” And that’s when my entire life changed.

I went from barely being able to afford a month’s worth of gas for my shitty little VW to being able to afford a dozen brand new Ferraris with all the gas in the world. Tom explained to me how he owned several different buildings in London, all of them under the company that him and his father have been working on for years. I was surprised with Tom being so young, having such a large empire under his command, he’s an extremely successful man. He admitted he was nervous about mentioning what he does in the record shop in fear that I would mooch off of him for money, as he told me his previous girlfriend did just that. He just wanted to protect his heart.

I assured Tom all my actions and feelings were genuine and that I didn’t care about his title or his money; If he treated me right, made me laugh like a lunatic, and just all in all made me happy, I’d never ask for anything more. Until now that is…after me quitting my job, selling my car, working harder in University than I ever have, moving into Tom’s penthouse apartment, and almost four years of dating, I’m finally about to ask him for something.

Just a little bit more attention. I don’t want to sound like one of those girlfriends, I just want things back the way they used to be; Have him crawling into bed beside me and snuggle me up to his warm, strong chest, going out on the most enjoyable dates anyone could think of, cook meals together, take Tessa on long walks, talk about our future, make love almost every night…now it was just work, work, and more work.

My mouth stretched into a wide smile as I heard the fumbling of a key at the front door. Tessa shot up, arising from her slumber and scampered towards the noise in a hurry. Tom stepped into view, squealing like a child when he saw Tess, bending down to scratch behind her ears. I brushed off the invisible dust that was on my dress and stood out off the view of the table, trying to emphasize the presentation. Tom stood up straight, caught a glimpse of me and rushed over. He picked me up and twirled me in the air. I let out a joyful gasp at the sudden gesture, placing my hands on his sturdy shoulders to support myself. He then pulled me in for a chaste kiss and set me back down to my feet.

“You’re not gonna believe what happened today at work, Y/N!” Tom blurted. I smiled and raised my brows, urging him to speak. I moved a little more to the side, hoping he’d say something about how the dining table was littered with all his beloved dishes. “So Harrison told me he got an e-mail late last night from these guys in Japan who were very impressed with how successful our business has grown to be in such a short amount of time and that they were willing to fly out to London just for us to discuss some ideas over dinner, in regards to expanding the company even more! Isn’t that brilliant?” Tom exclaimed. I walked closer to Tom and wrapped my arms around him, exceptionally proud of my boyfriend and his hard work. “Oh, hey. What’s all of this?” He asked, pulling away from the hug, finally eyeing the table.

My heart leaped. I texted him earlier to let him know I had a surprise for him waiting at home after he was finished at work. “R-Remember I texted you and said that I had a surprise for you? Well, this is it! I-I just wanted to treat you tonight because, y’know…you’re always busy and so I decided to make all of you favourite foods for dinner, you deserve it! It’ll be just you and me!” I chanted. After about a minute of Tom gawking at the table, I cleared my throat and rocked on my heals, giving him a small smile, “Surprise.” I beamed. Tom’s mouth fell open and he slapped his hand to his face, groaning. “Shit, Y/N. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I forgot you told me that you had something planned.” he gasped. I shook my head, dismissing his apology like it was nothing, trying to mask my heart selfishly filling with disappointment. Of course he forgot…

“That’s alright! Anyways, you should go wash up and I’ll dish out for you. Look,” I began, pointing at the unopened wine bottle, “I thought we could drink your favourite wine too in celebration of your success!” I dragged on. Tom’s face fell, his eyebrows knotting together and a scowl appeared on his lips. “I-I’m sorry, darling but I can’t cancel on these guys. We’re in the process of trying to collaborate with them on a project that could really sky rocket the business into something I’ve always dreamed of. Could we reschedule?” My heart was instantly torn to shreds. “Your dinner with those guys is tonight?” I interrogated. Tom just nodded his head and checked his watch. Jerk.

“But…w-what about our dinner?” I continued, my voice shaking violently. I was in literal pain as I held tears back. Somehow, somewhere in my mind, I knew this was going to happen but I tried to push those thoughts into an abyss, only thinking about how well the night was going to turn out. “Look, darling, I’m sorry but I really have to get going. Traffic is pretty heavy, I just came home to drop off my stuff. I’ll make it up to you. I just…I honestly can’t miss this. It could change everything.” Tom concluded. He gave me a peck on the forehead before adjusting his jacket collar and striding back to the door. Open, close, lock.

I just stood there like a statue and stared at the door. Tess came and plopped herself next to my feet, whining for me to pet her. I halfheartedly stroked her head, my gaze still locked on the door. I chewed on my bottom lip in confusion, hurt and betrayal. He didn’t even tell me he loves me…

“He didn’t even let me know ahead of time, Tess.” I finally spoke, my hand halting its movements on her head. “He forgot about my texts a-and my surprise. He didn’t even ask me if I’d like to come with him to the dinner.” She squealed in response, understanding what I meant. “Does he just expect me to eat this all by myself?” Tessa stood up and trotted towards the table, her nose high in the air, sniffing at the lovely feast I prepared for Tom and I. Mostly Tom. I followed her footsteps after a couple of seconds, taking in the view of the lit candles, the shining wine glasses, straight set cutlery…all going to waste. My stomach growled viciously, practically screaming at me that I should eat something before I die. Huh, I’d rather die. I swiped my phone off the kitchen counter and dialled Y/F/N’s number. My fingernail clawed at the rubber phone case as I listened to the ringing.

“Hello there, doll face.” Y/F/N swooned, I could hear the glee in her voice which brought a weak smile to my face, only falling away when I remembered why I called her. “Hey! Do you, uh…are you doing anything right now? Do you want to come over for dinner?” I asked, mentally begging her to say yes. “Ah, shit Y/N, I’m sorry! I’m actually on my way out right now! I have a date with that guy that works at that sketchy coffee shop on 83rd, remember?” she explained. Right, of course! I stupidly let that slip my mind. “Oh yeah! Crap, sorry, I forgot.” I snickered, trying to mask my disappointment. “Where’s Tom? Shouldn’t he be coming home soon or something?” I heard a door lock on the other side and assumed that was the front door of her house. “No, he, uh, actually got caught up a bit back in the office with a client. He said he’d be home in about an hour and that I should invite you to dinner.” I lied through my teeth. I was too embarrassed to tell her that my boyfriend basically abandoned me to go wine and dine with his work buddies and Japanese business men.

“Ah, okay, okay. Makes sense.” she said, more background noise of her turning her vehicle on, the engine roaring, the music from the stereo flooding my ears. “Thanks for inviting me though, Y/N. I’m sure Tom will be home soon.” Y/F/N reassured. I waved my hand at Tessa, shooing her away as she made her first attempt at jumping on the table. “I’ll let you go though. I don’t want you to be distracted while driving. Text me when your date is over, I wanna hear all about it. Don’t forget about that pepper spray I slipped in your purse just in case. Oh, and also make sure to send me your location so I kn—” “Y/N! Relax you psycho, I’m gonna be just fine!” she giggled. “I’ll talk to you later, sweets. Love you!” I smiled, “Love you too, be safe.” I hung up the phone and chucked it on the couch. Tessa went back to sniffing away at the food and I let her. What was the point?

A few hours later, the table was cleared, the food stuffed carelessly in containers and in the fridge, the candles put out, the wine tucked gently back in the in-kitchen bar, the dishes washed and now me, laying in our king sized bed for who knows how many hours, alone, per usual. Tess was curled up on the floor, a rubber hippo tucked securely under her paws, acting as a sleeping buddy. Where was my sleeping buddy? I looked over at the clock. 12:47 AM. I didn’t have the will power to stay downstairs and watch TV or read or do anything. I felt so empty. I was crumbling. A tear slipped out of my eye before I heard the front door open and close. Some more shuffling went on before I made out someone coming up the stairs. I shoved my arms underneath the pillow and buried my face in the plushness of it, creating the illusion that I’ve been sleeping for a couple of hours.

The bedroom door opened and Tom’s cologne hit my nostrils. He always smelt so good! Damn you, Holland! I was fully expecting a peck on the shoulder or a caress on the crown of my head but instead, I heard him make his way to our bathroom, pushing the door slightly. I quickly sat up, noticing that Tessa was already awake, wagging her tail at her master’s presence. The faucet turned on and off before I decided to make a move. I clambered out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom while Tess observed my every move. I pushed the bathroom door open and spotted him, facing the mirror. I slowly but sensually wrapped my arms around his bare waist, all his clothes except for his boxers thrown in the hamper, and pressed my breasts against his back.

To my relief, I could see Tom smiling in the mirror through his mouthful of toothpaste foam before spitting and rinsing, me still clinging to him like a koala. He then turned around after wiping his face with a towel and wrapped his arms around me. “Hello, pretty girl.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Finally. I looked down, “Hey.” I muttered under my breath. He gingerly placed two digits underneath my chin, moving my head up towards him. “What’s the matter, darling?” I furrowed my brows, thinking the problem was already obvious. Tom stroked my cheek, “You know you can tell me anything, darling. What’s wrong?” he pushed on. I cautiously moved away from Tom and brushed his hand away.

“I need to be honest with you…” I began, already feeling tears threatening my vision but I blinked furiously, forcing them back. I could see Tom’s entire demeanour change within a millisecond; He was leaning against the bathroom counter and had his arms crossed, which made me feel a little intimidated. “Okay, talk.” he urged. I took a deep breathe and dropped my head, digging my toes into the soft bathroom mat. “I’ve been feeling ignored by you lately…” I tried out. When I heard no response, I continued. “You’re…always working for long hours a-and I understand it’s because you’re the CEO and own the company but, whenever I wanna do something with you or go out or anything, work always gets in the way. I’ve felt this way for a while…a few months.” I admitted, eyes still locked on my toes.

A minute passed and I raised my head to look at Tom. He looked…upset. But not the regretful kind of upset, more like the upset at me kind of upset. Ugh, shut up, Y/N. “Please say something.” I sounded so desperate that it disgusted me. Tom just pushed himself off the counter and walked back into our bedroom, leaving me in the bathroom. I immediately went to follow him, not surrendering to his immaturity regarding what I just said. “Tom! What are you doing? I just told you how I felt and you’re acting like you don’t give a shit!” I called out, moving quickly to step in front of him. “You completely forgot about me today, your plans with those guys from Japan…you know how much that hurt? I understand that the meeting was important to you and could open the doors to so many more opportunities but don’t you think you owe me as much as texting me to let me know instead of leaving me in the dark? You ran in and out of the house just to ‘drop your stuff off’. I worked all day to make tonight special for you and what was I left with? Tons of wasted food and wasted hope. You’ve done this to me many times in the past too but I was too stupid to say anything and just brushed it off like it was nothing because I’ve always put your wants and needs before mine but,” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, “what happened tonight really hurt me.” 

He drooped his head, eyes burning holes into the floor, a clear mix of contradicted feelings, unsure whether to feel sorry for me or explode. I cared about Tom’s work, how much effort he’s put into the creation of this company and for what it’s become but if it comes to the point where he’s essentially neglecting his significant other, then that becomes a problem, at least in my mind. I sat down gingerly on the bed, brushing out the wrinkles on the satin duvet. Tom looked me up and down, his features riddled with irritation.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? I’m doing this all for you! I’m trying to provide for you, so don’t give me crap about how I’m constantly working! I’ve been busting my ass and working on this for my entire life.” he argued. Oh, hell no. There was no way I was gonna let him blame his busy work schedule on me. “Don’t even, Tom! Don’t you dare try pushing this on me! I never asked for any of this; Not the house, the fancy bed, the decked out bathroom, the kitchen fit for a queen…I never asked for it! All I wanted was you. When you asked me to move in with you, I didn’t care if we were poor, living in a shoebox apartment, sleeping on the floor, I just want to be with you and I still do, so don’t you dare try telling me that you’re doing this for me.” I shrieked, fisting roughly at my pyjama pants.

Tom sneered in annoyance, perhaps even disgust. I gawked at him, outraged and waiting for him to make a comeback. “You know what? You are so selfish. You don’t appreciate anything I do for you. You could be working too, y’know? No one locks you in this house or nails you to the floorboards and demands that you wait for me to come home!” he roared, getting closer to me. I quickly stood up, startling him. He took a few steps back but kept his hard glare. “I go to school, you div! I’m a full time student, I’m studying to get my bachelors, remember? Oh, probably not because you’re too busy staying at work finishing your projects and oh, talking to clients and oh, having dinner with Japanese business men, completely forgetting about your own girlfriend! I tried doing something selfless and nice for you and all I get it a petty forehead kiss and a spit in the face!” I growled. My face was red hot by this point, my breathing shallow.

My boyfriend scoffed, almost in a laughing manner. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re still going on about that? What’s the big deal? You need to calm down.” he mocked. “I work long hours, practically every single day. When I get home, I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I want to sleep. On the weekends, I’m free. I’m not required to spend every waking second of my week with you!” Tom moved around me to climb into bed. He propped his pillow up and shut his eyes tightly. “Just go to sleep, goddammit.” he grumbled. I’m hanging at the end of my rope. He’s brushing this off, like I don’t mean anything! What happened to him?I stood over him, but it was as if all feeling in my body was gone. “So what? Is this what it’s gonna be from now on? Us sleeping in the same bed, living under the same roof but not talking? Not facing hardships and being upfront and honest with each other? Tommy, I love you but you’re…you’re supposed to take care of me…” My voice trailed off into oblivion. I didn’t want to beg but I didn’t want to lose him either. By this point, there were tears running a marathon down my face; Both of my under eyes were drenched with the salty fluid. This was destroying me. “You’re supposed to be my boyfri—”

“Y/N, shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Do you not understand fucking english?! Just shut the fuck up!” Tom roared at me, covering his face with his hands. My heart dropped, terrified at his sudden outburst. The sound of his scream was bouncing off the walls; Thomas had never, ever yelled at me before. Obviously over the duration of our relationship, we’ve gotten into little arguments but nothing too extreme. Any time we would ever disagree on something, we’d usually forget what we’re fighting about and laugh it off, or Tom would force a smile out of me and we’d have make up sex but this was…something else.

I was defeated. I did what he said, I shut up. I slumped towards my slide of the bed and grabbed my pillow, the end slightly tucked underneath Tom’s. Without giving it a second thought, I yanked it off the bed, his head falling back a bit at the sudden motion. His hands fell away from his face and he watched me go into the closet and grab one of the extra blankets we kept in there. I forced it down from the top shelf, a few other thinner blankets fell to the floor but I just left them there. I snatched my phone off the vanity beside the bed, stepped into my Chewbacca slippers and headed straight to the door of the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Tom piped up, a hint of concern lacing his voice. I cackled and spun around to face him. He sat up, looking like he was about to get up from the bed and come near me which was honestly the first and last thing I wanted right now. “I’m definitely not sleeping beside the man who has forgotten how to treat the woman he apparently ‘loves’.” I raged. He stared at me hard. “Y/N, I do love you. So much. I’m so—”

“You have a really funny way of showing it. You’re a jerk.” He looked hurt. Ha, good. Tom quickly climbed out of bed and came towards me as predicted. He would take one step forward, I’d take two steps back. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Holland. Go away.” I yelped, still backing out of the room. Remorse and regret traced his features, his bottom lip quivered as he started to absorb the mess he’s created tonight and every other night. “Baby, please, stay here with me. I’m sorry. I understand now. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Please just stay here with me, I can’t sleep without you by my side.” he pleaded. I just continued walking down the dimly lit hallway. I stopped at the front of the guest bedroom down the hall, my hand on the handle. The metal was cold which sent goosebumps rolling up and down my skin.

“Don’t be sorry because you yelled at me,” I opened the door and flicked on the light. “Be sorry for neglecting me, over and over again.” I said, before stepping in the room and gently closing the door. I gazed at the bed. There weren’t any blankets or pillows, sorely for the fact that we never really let people stay over unless it was an emergency or if Harrison showed up at 3 AM drunk out of his mind because of who knows what. I tossed my pillow on the bed, it landed diagonally as the blanket soared through the air, falling gracefully on the mattress. I turned off the light and walked towards my sanctuary for the night. The bed was freezing, disheartening, lonely. I stuffed my face into the pillow and cried. I just let the tears flow and dampen the surface.

I heard Tessa scratching at the door which only made me cry harder. It was a silent cry that I didn’t want Tom to hear. I knew he was finally starting to open his eyes towards the situation and me, being so vulnerable, I wanted to forgive him. I wanted him here with me right now, with everything behind us, and just have his strong arms wrapped safely and securely around my body. The pooch’s clawing stopped after a minute, bringing me back down. I tried to sleep and I silently prayed that I could forget this night. I hated fighting with Tom. I’m not selfish, I do care about his work and understand that he’s stressed but I just want things to go back to the way that they were. When it was him and I against the world.

I awoke to my phone buzzing profusely against my forearm. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and fished around the crumpled mess of blanket to retrieve my device. When I finally found it, I had twenty two text messages and six missed calls from Y/F/N, guessing that every notification was regarding her date last night. I smiled in acknowledgement but tucked the phone under my pillow, not ready to interact with humans just yet. That lasted a good thirty seconds until I head scratching against the door again. I turned to face away from the door, assuming Tom was already up and let Tessa out of the room but the scratching just continued. I huffed and unwillingly left the now warm bed. I pulled my ridden up pyjama pants down and made my way to the door and swung it open. Tessa bolted right past me and hopped on the bed, turning in circles a few times before settling into a little ball of grey scruff. I chuckled at her as I went to step out of the room, only to have something knock into my feet, sending me crashing to the floor. 

“Ow!” I exclaimed, the carpet leaving a burning sensation on my left cheekbone. “Oh, my god, Y/N! Are you okay?” a groggy voice called. I pushed myself off the ground and sat up against the wall. Tom was kneeling beside me in a split second. How’d he get here so quickly? I groaned as I looked up at him, his fingers grazing over the assumed carpet burn on my face. I flinched back, slapping his hand away. “Are you okay?” he repeated. I just stared at him in disbelief. What the hell? His eyes were bloodshot, his hair an absolute mess, I could tell he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly. I looked past him and saw his pillow and a thin, tattered blanket on the floor.

I moved my eyes back to him. “Did you sleep on the floor last night?” I questioned. He chuckled nervously and scratched the bak of his neck. “I stayed outside the guest room all night. I couldn’t sleep without you beside me. I came to get you…but after a while, I thought I’d give you some space.” he explained. My eyebrows knotted together as he dropped his head down. He leaned forward and stuffed his head in the crook of my neck. My arms instinctively moving up to caress his warm skin. “I’m sorry…I can’t believe what I said to you last night, let alone what the fuck I’ve been doing to you for the past few months, like you said.” he mumbled, his hands coming to rest of my thighs. I wrapped some strands of his hair around my fingers.

“I’m gonna be different. I have to, I want to, I need to be if I don’t want to lose you. I spent all night thinking about what you said and remembering all the times I’ve ditched you and forgot to remind you how much you mean to me. How I treated you? No boyfriend should ever do those things to their girlfriend. I never meant to do any of that to you but I still managed to. I was getting so caught up in my job and the success, I neglected and mistreated the one person who means more to me than anyone else in the entire world.” He raised his head and looked into my eyes. I could see small droplets of tears hanging onto his bottom lashes. I brushed them away gingerly with my thumb and kissed his nose. I rested my forehead against his as he sighed. “You…are the girl I want to marry and start a family with and this is not the way to do it. There are no excuses. I need to start treating you right again. I will do whatever it takes, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. Never for a single second have my feelings for you faltered. I’ll die before I stopped loving you. I’m so sorry for making you feel the way you’ve been feeling.” he concluded. 

My chest tightened. This is exactly what I’ve wanted from him. I was so happy, I was thriving. “Tom?” I began, stroking his cheek with my thumb. “Yes, darling?” he replied desperately. I smiled at him contently. “I forgive you. I love you so much. Thank you.” I finished, pulling him in for a hug. He immediately snaked his arms around my body, our fronts pressed together tightly. Tom stood both of us up, not separating in the slightest. After holding each other for who knows how long, we pulled away and pressed our lips together in a mouthwatering, hungry, passionate kiss. I was finally getting my boyfriend back…He pulled away and kissed my forehead, eyelids, both cheeks, nose, and then lips.

“C’mon, my love. Let’s get a band aid on that scrape and go make some breakfast together.” Tom announced, as he turned and bent down in front of me, signalling me to jump on his back. I swooned, over the moon at what he just said. I hopped on his back and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my fingers ghosting over his clavicles. He hooked his arms underneath the backs of my knees before playfully jumping up and down. I giggled in response, burying my face into his upper back, pressing kisses to his shoulder blades. “You’re as light as a feather, baby girl.” He declared, before taking us both to the kitchen. 

I had faith in Tom that things were going to start looking up.

the ending is complete ass but i really just wanted to get this up :’)

[braindamageforbeginners]

Intent/The First 120 Hours

Cycle 8, Day 11

Everyone always wants to know what chemo (technically maintenance chemo) is like, and I try to give an accurate portrayal, However, the truth is, even with the lighter touch and my new Hunter S. Thompson drug-fueled lifestyle (actually, after reading “Gonzo Girl,” even at my most heavily-medicated, I’m not in the same league), you’ll feel physically and mentally funky (and there’s always that nasty injection site pain from the Marizomib). The good news is, with Marizomib, fatigue is the most-noted downside (I wrote about that previously, but fatigue, I’ve learned, isn’t really exhaustion, it’s when consciousness is painful), so I usually get a full night’s sleep. Thanks to a quasi-legal medical substance, the chemo hangover is cut down significantly, and you wake up feeling, almost too good. So, yeah, in my false sense of recovery, I did push myself a little too hard and sprain something in the bad leg, so I'm spending today on the couch, thanks to that nasty rubbery leg of mine. I try to keep active and fit, but it isn't always a reasonable goal. So, today; rest; tomorrow, more-achievable goals, like going up and down stairs without a deathgrip on the rail.

Anyway, the point of this writing project is to provide some sort of useful data in an easily-digested form, so I thought I’d give a few pointers on surviving the first 120 hours after a terminal (we'll discuss it) cancer diagnosis (with the warning that it’s from my perspective, but what works for me may well be fatal for you; use your own judgment). I’m not talking about self-care or organizing your prescriptions - that’s later in the process. I’m going to tell you what I wish I’d known to survive the first four or five days after the diagnosis (non-medically). This is about how to subtly shift your thinking from "I'm gonna die" to "I'm going to scream into the gates of the Underworld like I own that fucker," which, based on personal experience, might be the necessary attitude to putting off that particular scenario.

1. Do what you need to do, emotionally. One of the shittier things able-bodied people do to new cancer patients is tell them to buck up, or be positive. Folks, if this goes South, I will experience cachexia. Most survivors are sterilized and have long-term health issues related to treatment. You wouldn’t tell someone who’s about to march into the jaws of hell to smile, especially if they’ve just had a seizure or are in pain. If you have to drink a bottle of whisky and drunkenly call an ex, now’s the time, you might not get it later. I think I spent a day dry heaving and lying in bed before I really came to my senses. Do what you have to, but do it quickly because you are now on the clock.

2. Find appropriate help. Just as not all cancers are created  equal, not all doctors are created equal. Again, according to Briish stastics, “medical misadvenure” is the third leading cause of death. Having said that, even though I insist on the very best for my glioblastoma, that’s because there isn’t much of a middle ground between “survivor” and “dead” with that. If I get lung cancer or colon cancer, I may not be quite as picky. I’ve talked previously about finding good oncologists, and, as recently noted, they’re usually not motivated by money. And be creative in where you get information; two friends from the Mesozoic contacted me to ask for help with their parents who have glioblastoma. It seemed odd to me that I’d be asked about, especially since one of these friends is a practicing physician. I try to give everyone accurate, well-researched advice, and I hope I did then, but it still feels like there’s somehing wrong in the universe when I’m somewhat knowledgeable about how to handle a crisis. We’ll ignore the self-contained, Zen koan-like irony of that statement in a guide to what to do.

3. Find new friends/join a support group. I don’t know if it’s just brain cancer patients - I don't know if it's just brain cancer patients or all cancer patients, but your previous support group (or key members of it) will be conspicuous in their absence. In my case (and another person I've read of), I heard back from a bunch of random people I literally hadn't heard from in decades (in a few cases). I get an awful lot of passing privilege, but, so far, any time I've dropped the "C" word - it's immediately changed the nature of our interactions. So far, overwhelmingly, people have been kind, or positive, which is great, but it does get grating after a while that any time the phrase "and what do you do?" comes around, there's a stilted shift. You know who absolutely could not give less of a shit about your new medical label (unless you're having a seizure)? Other cancer survivors and patients.  And - bonus - they'll actually be able to give you far more accurate and up-to-date info on your disease and/or financial or social resources that might now be at your disposal than I know about. I'm indebted to my old friends from the Mesozoic who showed up to cheer me on in my hour of need (extra kudos to Laura and Julie), but I owe an unrepayable number of favors to the Leukemia Kids (okay, that's the Young Cancer Support Group, but most cancer patients under 40 are lymphoma or leukemia patients/survivors, hence my name)(sorry if you guys don't like it, I'll think of a better one ASAP) who helped me get past that (sort of, I still need all the help I can get). I did not do that, but, in retrospect, it was a massive mistake I didn’t.

4. Prepare for drama - your life is about to become a bad Lifetime Television Special, and it does affect different people in different ways - I know one brain cancer survivor whose husband left her  - and you’re going to be doing this while experiencing an amount of fear you’d previously been unable to imagine; the full 31 flavors.  You will be - initially - completely overwhelmed by terror. I'd recommend seeing a shrink (I do); all the prescription pads will come out for this one. The bad news is, even if you beat this thing, you don't ever really get over it. I've talked to late-stage breast cancer survivors who say the same thing; even after years of clean scans, the anxiety and fear never fully leaves (it certainly hasn't for me, though, but I'm not even a year out of a five-year deal).

5. know the difference between terminal, incurable, chronic and fatal. I remember which step on the stairway I was on - the third or fourth - when Mad Scientist told me those six words, over the phone (I was traveling at the time), "I'm so sorry, it's stage IV." The world swung, because I suddenly knew not only that I would die soon, but exactly how (that's a really horrifying thing to consider, I wrote one of my fist essays - posted around here, somewhere - to try and capture that sensation). Fatal diseases are like a car crash - they'll kill you. Terminal illnesses are defined by Wikipedia (and I like their definition, since the traditional definition has involved how, subjectively, soon/quick the disease is likely to kill you) as, "an incurable disease that cannot be adequately treated and is reasonably expected to result in the death of the patient." You'll note a lot of weasel words in there that make this nice, elastic definition my favorite, but the phrase I like to hang on is, "adequately treated." Chronic diseases are the ones that last three or more months (or something like that; I did take an intro pathophysiology class that involved knowing the instructor's definition of "acute" and "chronic"). Chronic cancers - like mine and a lot of recurrent leukemias - are ones that require five consecutive years without metastasis or recurrence before you're declared "cured." It's telling of the quality of my medical team that, as far as I know, none of them have ever said the words "fatal" or "terminal" in my presence.  Instead, I've been given a series of treatments that really suck (check this blog for any examples you'd like), but, I'd so far rate as "adequate" in that they've kept the disease at bay (for those of you working out, step-by-step along with me how to save yourself or a loved one, that statistic is progression-free survival. I'd imagine, based on how a new immunotherapy has gotten to round 3 just in the nine months I've been in treatment (technically, treatment ended back in February, I'm in "maintenance chemotherapy," but since I have to be in the infusion center every Tuesday, and I have to remain wary of potential problems/side-effects/etc. it's just easier to think of myself as still being in chemo). And most cancers are, technically, incurable. We might have a definitive treatment of some sort, but since it's ultimately caused by damaged DNA, and we can't repair or zap every single rogue cell in your body, most are just genetic time bombs. And, since I've survived the first tumor, a lot of medicine seems to have swung back to reclassify a lot of very treatable (but not curable, apparantly) as either chronic or having that potential. I like to use the idea/metaphor I saw another science writer use; it's like heart disease or diabetes; it'll take a lifetime of management and monitoring,  but it may not, necessarily kill you. In other words, you've received a helluva strong first blow, but, even with the gravest prognosis, you might be around for a longer struggle (and time) than you'd thought.

6. Use statistics as guidelines, not rules. This was a big one for me. And it doesn't mean you shouldn't use statistics, or automatically dispute them, but realizing the GBM median life expectancy included both 20-year-olds and 90-year-olds who dropped dead of heart attack and people who refused (or were not candidates) for other treatment. Again, there's a lot of luck involved in this, at every single point, but you can - mentally and physically - prepare for pain, or  hardship, or potential heart problems (and react and treat such things). You can't really prepare for cancer recurring or metastasizing, apart from writing your own eulogy (which, come to it, I suppose this is a part of).

7. Decide right now if you want to live or go gentle into that good night - This is far, far more important than you might think, because both the medical industrial complex, your disease, and the basic, horrible logistics of this situation are going to be beyond exhausting. There's a lot of luck here, but, from minute 1, I have had one thing going for me:  complete, near-psychotic commitment to actually staying alive.  And that's what it'll take (sadly, in more than a few cases, much, much more will be required).  You're going to have to charm, cheer, cajole, finagle, and, in some cases, con people like there won't be any consequences, because, if you're unsuccessful, there won't be. And this will give you the required attitude to deal with some of the higher-ups you'll meet in medicine (and scream at them, if necessary).  Again, full honors to all my various clinicians and support staff over the years who have never made me feel trapped or impotent by my immediate sitaution, but, at the same time, if any of the sort of arrogance and contempt I've heard of from other folks (including doctors) was actually warranted on behalf of modern science and medicine, there would be no fatal diseases. Again, I'll happily write glowing testimony on behalf of the people treating me, but I've met too many patients who feel like refusing treatment because they're too dejected or frightened to go on, and their doctors or insurance are still charging them (why that's still allowed is largely due to the fact that modern medical insurance is an entirely artificial industry created to meet no demand, and enabled by Richard Nixon and Edgar Kaiser)(again, I'm making none of that up). I'd urge everyone to get up, remember that dead men, women, transgender, non-binary, (and anyone I'm forgetting), do not pay bills; hopefully that'll give you the sort of needed psychological boost to get off your butt and demand more. It's not a sustainable life strategy, but until the end of your illness is in sight, Malcolm X's statement, "By any means necessary" should be your mantra.

8. Don’t lose hope - Believe me, it seems weird for me to write it, and it might very well be warranted in more than a few cases, but I did ask myself, once, why I'd be on the phone the next morning ordering and organizing my prescriptions (orchestrating what substances should be in me on which day is now a more daunting logistics task than the D-Day landings), instead of just sitting quietly in a comfy chair until it was all over (that's still always a temptation), and all I can say is, I guess it was enough to motivate me through another day. And another. And another. And, in the meantime, another treatment has made it to trials, for, wait for it, recurrent GBM (which is what I'll have if the Warlocks miscalculate using the lunar calendar)(no longer a joke; each treatment period is 28 days). I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna get miserable, and not all of us will make it (Hell, measles has a death rate, which, there,  that sensation of realizing measles can be fatal, is what a TIA feels like).

9. Mourn your old life, don’t waste time trying to get it back. I made that mistake between Tumor #1 and 2. I'm not making it again. I realize I can only write for myself, which was the horrifying realization that came to define my existence - no one, as far as I can tell, has written a decent, current, useable guide to avoiding the reaper when your number's up. So I guess I'm going to have to stay alive long enough to do that. Also, I don't know if anyone out there's outlived their own life expectancy, but I've already done it twice, and there is no more amazing sensation - no matter what else your life looks like.

[childishrevolutionary]

Last Call Before Rehab

The walls of this Michigan sports bar are lined with the jerseys and newspaper headlines of teams well past their primes that haven’t accomplished anything in decades. The usual clientele fit the same description. Blue collar, salt of the earth people, who for the last six hours of their shift building this country, couldn’t think of anything but taking that first sip of the same light beer they fell in love with at 17. The closest thing we get to anything new going on around here is when the General Motors guys bring in a new hire to join them in their after-work ritual. The new guy doesn’t usually come around too much at first, until one day when he realizes there’s nothing else to do in the city of Pontiac but bust your ass for $19,000 a year and call some decrepit sports bar home. Here I go thinking nothing out of the ordinary’s gonna happen today until I see two new faces walk in: a middle-aged woman and a younger looking guy, the former coming to sit at the bar, and the latter slinking off to a booth way by the door. 

She says to me, “Hey pal, how ‘bout a pint of Miller. And hell, one for the guy over there,” gesturing towards the guy she came in with. 

There’s about fifteen things here that strike me as odd, and I let her know right away. “Ok ma’am—”

“Hey I’m not that old.”

“Right. What I was saying—lady—is there’s clearly something fishy going on here. First, I get two newbies in here out of the blue, haven’t had a newbie in weeks, one of ‘em looks like a high schooler, and you’re trying to buy the two of you a round?”

“Uhhh,” she stammers nervously, “we just happened to be on our way in when we both stopped for a cigarette and struck up a conversation. And I’m feeling generous today so I figure why not get the first one on me.”

“Must’ve been some kind of conversation if you’re sitting here and he’s way the hell over there. Plus, from what I can see, he hardly looks of age. I forget, did you say you met him in the parking lot, or at a Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Alright fine, just get me my own damn pint,” she demands.

I still can’t shake the feeling that something ain’t right here. At this point, I can serve her, hoping she becomes a regular, netting me an extra ten to fifteen bucks a night. Or I could be nosy in hopes she gives me a good story to tell when the boys come in later. Hell, the boys would love a good story, and I would too. “Who’s the kid, lady?” I ask her. “You two clearly know each other from somewhere. Was he sitting outside waiting to ask someone to buy him booze? I told those kids once already I ain’t servin’ ‘em.”

She sighs for a moment, and hanging her head, she mutters “He’s my son. 19.” 

“Come on lady, you know I’m not serving a minor.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me lady. Name’s Shelley.”

The name sounds familiar, I’m not sure why at first, but then it clicks. “Hey, I might’ve heard about you. I’ve heard about a blondie that’s a regular over at Dean’s. I think he’s told me about you, you’re supposed to be pretty handy with a pool stick ain’t you?”

“Yep that’s me. Word sure does get around this town doesn’t it?” She’s still staring at her feet for a good ten seconds until she yells out “God dammit!” so loud and unexpected that even her kid perks his head up. 

I can definitely see there’s a story here. I would say this is something you don’t see everyday, but I don’t think that does it justice. This is something you don’t see anyday. The boys are gonna love this one. “Alright Shelley, how ‘bout this. I get you your pint, on me, and you tell me what’s troubling you. You seem to be in a bad way.”

“That’s kind of you, but I always pay my own tab. Don’t need any of the men in this town thinkin’ I owe ‘em something.”

“Have it your way,” I say, pouring her drink. “What’s the issue? How ‘bout we start with why you’re trying to buy beer for your underage son.”

She takes a long, hard exhale out of her nostrils, looking off in the distance, before she replies “I gotta take him into rehab. But I have to get him drunk first.”

I look at her thinking either she’s got dementia, or I gotta get my ears checked. “Shelley, if I heard you correctly, I think it should go without saying that that’s quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Your kid that’s not even old enough to drink has to go to rehab, and you decide to take him to a bar?”

“You think that’s dumb, well let me tell you this: most rehab facilites don’t accept patients unless they’re currently drunk or had a recent drinking spell. Even a guy who drinks himself blind 7 days a week can go sober for 4 days, enough to get himself into detox, and the facility won’t take him, even though there’s almost a 100% chance he goes back to his old ways sooner or later.”

“Ok, I’ll admit, that’s kinda crazy, borderline fucked up. But did you think you’d really get away with getting him a drink here? And by the way, you’re gonna need a lot more than a pint to get him drunk.”

“Only reason I didn’t go to Dean’s is ‘cause everyone knows me around there, meaning they know my Joey’s only 19. I thought I’d try here ‘cause I never been.”

“I guess I can see the logic in that, but one beer? Surely that ain’t gonna be enough to get the kid— ”

“I don’t wanna get my own son piss ass drunk,” she announces loud enough that if anyone else were in the bar they probably would’ve done a spit-take. “I don’t wanna see him like that. I was thinking if he could just show he has little bit of something in his system, then they’d take him.”

“Jesus, Shelley, I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry about all that.”

“Thanks,” she says in a pissed off tone, not pissed at me of course, but at the situation. 

“But I mean, if he’s got a drinking problem you’ve probably seen him drunk before. What’s wrong with seeing it this time if it’s for the sake of getting him helped?”

“That’s the thing. I only just now found out. I’ve only seen him drunk once.”

“C’mon, if he belongs in rehab there’s no way you only—”

“I only. Just. Now. Found out,” she asserts, clearly meaning business.

“Sheesh, alright. But before you cut me off again, let me just make a few educated guesses here, alright? You probably work real hard at some job that doesn’t pay you nearly what you deserve. And after that, you spend the rest of your night at Dean’s, drinking Millers and crushing those guys at pool. So with all that time spent on your own, his dad’s probably not in the picture, is he?

“Deadbeat took off a day after I told him I was pregnant. Sometimes I think the only way he could’ve disappeared that fast was by joining the army and getting shipped off to fight straight away. If that was the case, I like to think karma caught up with him and he got his ass shot on day one.”

“Alright, so no dad. But the kid’s 19 and still living at home? From what I hear, you’re a no nonsense kind of woman. You don’t seem like you’d let a kid stay home after high school without pulling his weight.”

“Right again. He wasn’t anything special in the classroom at the start, but I told him as soon as he’s done with school, diploma or not, he’s gonna have to work if he wants to stay with me. So he finished up school instead of dropping out, and work, he did. He had a steady job since right before graduation, his friend Scott picked him up each morning and they worked at Bass Pro Shop over at the mall. Never had an issue paying his share.”

“Until…”

“Until one day two weeks ago my boss gives everyone a half day, so I head down to the mall to get some new shoes. On my way out I decide to pop in to Bass Pro to say hi to Joey, ‘cause I never got to see him at work on account of us always working at the same times. I don’t find him so I ask the manager if Joey’s on break, that I’m his mother and I’d like say a quick hello, to which he replies that he doesn’t know a single Joey that’s ever worked there.”

“Oh shit. So he was in for it, huh?”

“Big time. So I skip going to Dean’s for the night just to wait for him to come home so I can chew him out and find out where the hell the money was coming from. That’s when he drunkenly stumbles in, surprised to see that I’m home, and through slurred words tries to explain it’s not what it looked like. Poor idiot thought I was upset with him being drunk, he had no idea I knew about the job. So I came up with a good idea. I told him sleep it off, that I wasn’t mad. But the next morning I told him, ‘hey, how ‘bout I take you into work today instead of your buddy.’ He tried to explain that I didn’t have to do that, that Scott would be there any second to pick him up, but I insisted that he get his ass in the car so I can drive him to the mall. Halfway there, his phone is blowing up and, still acting oblivious, I say ‘boy, you seem popular today, who’s texting you.’ He tried to say ‘oh, it’s no one,’ but I snatched the phone out of his hands and saw it was Scott sending texts like ‘HEY MAN WHERE ARE YOU WE JUST GOT THIS BIG BATCH OF DOPE TO SELL!!!’ and ‘DUDE YOU’RE FUCKING UP OUR BUSINESS!!’ and a bunch of crap like that.”

“Wow, so he was selling dope?”

“Yup, selling it to the rich kids in Bloomfield Hills. You know the type, private school kids driving BMWs and Range Rovers, not knowing that $30 for a gram is nowhere close to a good deal. But it turns out Joey was using some of his profits to pay people to buy him alcohol, or he got it in exchange for weed from some rich college grad asshole that went back to live at home off daddy’s money. Apparently he was hitting the bottle pretty hard for a year now, so that’s how we ended up here, at this shitty bar.”

Now, I could take offense to the comment about this being a shitty bar, but she wasn’t wrong because I call the place shitty 20 times a day. “Ok, I see, but if he’s moving enough weed to make rent and drink the rest of the money away, don’t you think maybe he needs more than rehab? Like a scared straight program or something?”

“Oh he’s done with that weed crap for sure. I told him if I even get a whiff of that smell on him, or the slightest scent of alcohol on his breath, his ass is out on the street. And I told his buddy Scott that I’ll shove my foot up his ass if he ever contacts Joey again. I don’t care how old he is, if I have to babysit him for the next five years I’ll do it. Anything to keep him from being anything like that bastard father of his or the other lowlife men in this town.”

“Well, that sounds like some A+ parenting, and a hell of a story. But can I give you a piece of advice? I’m no therapist, but when you’re a bartender in this neck of the woods, you play therapist to about a dozen people a week.”

“Go ahead, lay it on me.”

“If you really wanna help your son, go to a nearby liquor store, leave him in the car, and buy a pint. I’m not talking a pint of beer, I’m talking a pint of hard liquor. And spare the cashier your life story. It’s a good one, well, tragic I mean. But if you wanna help this kid—”

“His name’s Joey,” she interjects. “My son’s name is Joey. I’ve told it to you about a hundred times.”

“If you wanna help Joey, tell him to down that bottle and take him to the nearest rehab facility, if that’s what it takes to get him admitted. And I don’t think you should be spending so much time at Dean’s.”

“Hey I don’t need a lecture from you, you watch people drink their lives away every single day and you probably don’t say shit to ‘em,” she retorts, real hostile. “That being said, I actually am done with the booze. This was real eye opening, it’s like everyone in this city’s got some vice or addiction.”

“Ain’t that the truth, but it’s not just this city, it’s everywhere. Compare me and Joey. Like you said, I make a living watching people slowly kill themselves. He was making a living making sure rich white kids could get stoned in their dad’s mansion. We’re both two guys hustling to make a dollar no matter what, because around here, your main concern is paying the next bill. I know you know what I mean.”

“True.”

“And compare the users. Those rich kids drink and smoke to have a good time and party because they’re spoiled brats whose actions have no consequences. People ‘round here drink and smoke ‘cause their boss is riding them, or they can’t make rent, or once you start taking a good look around, you realize we live in a community of hopelessness and despair.”

“I see what you’re saying, but doesn’t it ever occur to you that we’re in despair because everyone’s got an unhealthy coping mechanism? Think about this: someone gets a DUI, but they can’t afford to have a criminal record, can’t afford court fees, can’t pay bills, and can’t keep a job because they’re spending half of the work week in mandated counseling and court appearances. Half of ‘em feel they have no option but turn to the bottle even though the bottle is what got ‘em there in the first place.”

“As sad as it sounds, those are my best customers.”

“And doesn’t that weigh on you? Actively participating in the death and destruction of your community?”

“Sure it does, but like you said, everyone’s got their own vices and coping mechanisms, and I’m no different. Which leads me back to the subject of Dean’s. I said you shouldn’t go there because I think you should start spending more time here.

“And why in the hell would I do that? I told you I’m done drinking.”

“Because my coping mechanism is about six blunts a day, and the price of weed just went up around here in the last two weeks—now I know why. We all gotta hustle, and I could use the extra cash.”

[dryadgoddess]

Before the trip I was most excited for Oregon Eclipse festival, especially since my 2015 burn was a let down. We had early entry passes for OE, left Tuesday Aug 15th and headed up to Oregon. The next day we left for big summit prairie, got in line at about 2 PM (gates didn’t open til 12 PM so we were fairly early and probably the first large group of people in line)... so everything was going good, til hours passed... and then the sun set, then it was 10 PM.... and by now I gave up all hope of getting in and having camp set up before the sun rose. People were asleep in their cars, everyone was so exhausted. We ended up getting into festival grounds at about 5-6 AM. That’s about 15 fucking hours in line... I’ve have NEVER experienced anything like it. I was beyond pissed off because we paid $50 bucks each for guaranteed early entry, but entered the festival the day everyone else can started coming in. Besides that poorly orchestrated nonsense, I tried to have a good time. The stages were wonderful, some cool art structures, the eclipse itself was AMAZING (probably the only thing that made up for the festival itself)... but goddamn, Oregon Eclipse was the most poorly put together festival I’ve ever attended -- and to be quite honest, it was apparent they were trying hard to be like burning man but lacked proper use of the 10 principles. 

They claim to be a transformative event but their shortage of compassion and care for the attendees, and obvious money grabbing tactics said otherwise. They were charging $20 for a bag of fucking ice (and nowhere on their site did they mention how expensive it would be). We ended up accidentally locking our keys in the car and they kept us waiting and running back and forth between camp and the info booth for THREE days. The staff were unprofessional and completely fucking rude. I’m getting heated just thinking about it.  One incompetent staff member literally told everyone who came up to him with concerns that he “doesn’t care about anyone’s sob stories”. Sorry that people are stressed out and on the verge of tears because they can’t leave the festival??? Sorry people who flew in from across the world don’t have shuttles lined up because symbiosis is incapable of getting their shit together???? People have work, non-refundable hotels and flights booked, school, etc and you’re making it 10x more difficult to leave festival grounds. I spent so much time in the info booth that I overheard about 5 different, foreign attendees get told that their shuttle buses (which they paid for) were not showing up in the system and that all shuttle buses were full AND if they want to leave they should try to hitchhike... WTF? most fucked up thing I’ve ever witnessed. Let’s not forget to mention the complete lack of lights around the festival... there were rocks EVERYWHERE. I almost rolled my ankle multiple times.. how hard would it have been to set up fairy lights or something around festival grounds? They didn’t even mention for people to bring lights either, so almost everyone was a darkwad. HMMM, what else... someone stole my favorite hoop from the campsite (and I read that a ton of other people had things stolen). Not the festival’s fault but shows you the amount of shitty people in attendance.

There were definitely some great, memorable points of the festival. Gaslamp Killer’s set was AMAZING -- my boyfriend got everyone hyped up around us and we were all singing together. I finally saw Phaeleh, Spoken Bird, and Charlesthefirst, hooped lots, danced lots. I saw a total solar eclipse and I’m incredibly grateful I was lucky enough to make it to Oregon to witness it.  Overall, Oregon Eclipse was kinda forgettable -- maybe I just feel that way cus camping in Tahoe and Burning Man were a lot more fun. The staff really ruined my time and the complete lack of organization within the festival was offensive. We paid so much money to be there and it felt like they didn’t truly care about our well-being. 

After Oregon Eclipse we made our way to south lake tahoe and I had a blast. Our friends camped with us and we spent time explorin, taking photos, chillin around the fire. I enjoyed camping in the forest a lot more than being at the festival -- I know I’ve said this plenty of times but I think I’m growing out of festivals. I’d rather spend my time hiking, doing photography, and camping in the wilderness than spending time at festivals around people high out of their minds. I definitely need to reevaluate my priorities and get over my FOMO cus its costing my boyfriend and I so much money.  After camping we went to Reno and met up with friends, then went off to burning man... and MAN, it was such an amazing time. I can’t even put into words how much I love our campmates. We all shared so many laughs and adventures out on the playa. One of our campmates is SO similar to me, it’s crazy how much we have in common -- literal soul sistArs. I’m so sad we live far from one another, but I’m happy to have made that connection. It was super hot this year at the burn, I think it hit 110° a couple days, so we spent most of the day sleeping and relaxing under our shade structures. I explored a lot less this year than I did my first burn, but I had such a better experience this time around. Your campmates & set up really determine how much fun you have. I loved some of the people during my 2015 burn, but there was too much drama for me to fully enjoy myself. I’m so haaaappy I’m finding a little family n spot for myself out on the playa. I can’t wait for next year!

Overall the past three weeks have been tiring but rewarding. I’m happiest on the road, travelin with my boyfriend. I love sleeping under the stars and drinking beers around a fire with the person I love. I took so many pictures this time around, which makes my heart happy cus I love photography. Next year I plan on sitting out on most, if not all festivals. I’d rather put my energy and money towards exploring national parks and meeting new people. I think I’m just gonna do burning man every year instead. It’s a helluva lot more organized, fun, magical, art-oriented, and full of dusty snarky burners ready to share all their hard work with you. Already planning my next camping trip & burn w/ friends ♡♡♡

[asalegend]

Note to self.

This is a note to myself. About her. About Martha. God Damn, it hurts. Y'all have no idea. Let me tell you this story from the beginning dumb ass. So that when you do doubt it, you remember everything. You met Martha in March, while all that’s dumb shit down there with Mel and natalie and even Naomi was going on. And you liked her since then. There was something about it and you just didnt know what it was. And she liked you, and you knew it after that day she kissed you goodbye. And from there it happened. You took her to the movies and for ice cream. Then you took her for wings 3 days later on was an actual date, where you both knew you were interested and you both were already invested. And it was super fun, and amazing ( side note, she fucked some random dude that night after she told you she was Home and asleep… But you found that out later) and thats how it went. On september 23rd, y'all had a real ass date, and you lost your virginity to her, and that might not sound important now, vut remember that it was super important to you Then. Remember that she told you she would only be with you exclusively if you had sex with her, even though you were technically a couple. Dont you ever forget that she literally, fucken forced you to have sex. That she threatened with pretty much cheating on you .Then she spend 3 days living with you at home while your family was out. And You both had a huge fight about Monica, and what she meant to you. And she wanted to break up with you, and incase your worthless ass forgot. You got on your knees and begged her to stay, and you told her you would never lie to her again. And guess what bro, you didnt. Not about important stuff. Not about being loyal to her. Not about how much you fucken loved her, and I’m proud of you for that, and you should be too. And remember that same fucken night, some girl text you. Asking your for dick pics and sending you fucken pictures so you’d go fuck her. And yeah nigga you were tempted as fuck, and yeah nigga you texted back. But then it hit you, the time you had just spent with Martha, and how amazing that felt. And how incredible she was with you. And you sent that bitch a text that said you had a girlfriend, and you loved her (even if you hadnt told her yet) the next weekend, was pricillas birthday/Halloween, y'all went out to tipsy, and Martha got fucken hammered. So hammered that she couldnt go home. So you called your mom and begged her to let Martha stay. You told her youd sleep on the couch or whatever. And that night, Martha told you how much she loved you, and how by not telling her you love her you were hurting her. And you realized what your fear had done to you, so you decided to deal with it. You both fell asleep and that morning you looked at her and said “Martha, tu eres mi Amor…. Te amo mi Vida” and you meant it. You meant it more that you meant it when you said it to larissa or Naomi. And things were going good, you had broken up with her over dumb shit, but the next day you were back together. And you realized that you were in a real relationship, so you became and adult about it. But she always held that against you, even if she had broken up with you because you lent her 20 bucks and was petty. Then one day, while you were in the car and she was having a panic attack she took it out on you. She told you that She could cheat on you whenever she wanted, she bragged about all the guys who hit her up, and how she could fuck one whenever. She told you that you would never fucken know if She did it too( she knew since day one…, what Naomi and larissa had done to you)…. She made you shake in fear, she made you beg her never to cheat…. She broke you emotionally… Then laughed and said to never break up with her over dumb shit again…. She thought it was a joke…. Exploiting your fears and insecurities. Then, it was holiday time… And terry slammed you with hours cause you were kicking ass… And she was slammed with hours… And you started to notice how much she like jose…. How she always said he was super cute and how shed get weak in the knees…. And you tried explaing to her that stuff was avout to get tough. You were working 22 hours a week at pho. 30 at LC and going to 4 classes in the mornings…. And she was working 40+ and getting out at 10pm. You didnt have time to work out or anything. And what little time you had, you gave to her, and all she wanted… It seemed was sex… But you were tired… Your were stressed…. You were exhausted…. And uncomfortable with how much she Needed it… You wanted a hug and she just wanted to fuck. So, you were going soft…. And she made fun of you because if it…. And she made it worse. Then, the second week of December she went with you to the lc party… And you never loved her more. You bought matching sweaters, and you were so deeply inlove with her, you thanked god ever day for blessing you with her in your fucken life… And a few days later, she went to her party, wearing your sweater. She told you “nilda said no couple baby, sunny is gonna give me a ride back, I wont drink ok” and you dropped her off… And you we’re worried… You could feel something was wrong… Very wrong…, you didn’t sleep that night, and she kept sending you pictures…. Telling you what she was doing… And the next day, she showed up at work, that moring she told you she left her phone in Jose’s car…. But, you thought sunny was giving her a ride. And that day she fought with you, and complained and tried pushing you to leave her…. And you could feel it in you soul that she did something…. Then you kept going. But things were different… She didnt care about you the same anymore… Fast forward past xmas (which was amazing tbh, she spent it with you and gave you great presents.., and you gave her everything she wanted) and your taking off xmas lights. Martha is complaining about how she’s itch and had a rash. Then has sex with you like its nothing( btw, her and jose were still besties here. Dont forget that)….. A few days later, you get a call to work, its her crying… She has hpv… (She knew that rash wasnt normal…. Yet, she still did it with you) and there goes your life…. 3 days later, its your birthday.you have an incredible time at LC, and when you pick her up she looks amazing, and she gives you a big gift she made, the basket…. And it almost made you cry… Because it was beautiful… And she got fucked up at your party….she insulted your mother and embarrassed you infront of your friends… But that wasnt the worst part… That night, you laid her down to bed and you saw her phone. And you knew…. You knew you had to check it, your heart was screaming it….. And whatd you find out…. She cheated on you… Tge night of her party, she fucked jose. And she was bragging about it to alex, she even sent her pictures of him and went off about how good it felt, how many times she came how big (or small in this case… That’s the only win you got that night) he was. And you woke her up, you confonted her about it. And she got violent, she pushed you and punched your and scratched you begging you to stay… And all you felt was cold and emptiness. And you took her to work the next day and disappeared. A few days later, she had her LEEP and texted you, and you stood by her that day even though you were hurt. And she went and saw you and you both talked… And you put your pride aside and got back with her, no matter how much it fucken hurt, no matter how much your friends and family saw you suffer and tried helping you…, because you loved her. But she started to poison you, against your family. And she was selfish. But you stood by her during the hpv. You didnt leave her alone, you helped her and you helped her move her life foward, you did her taxes and helped her with school programs and her diet and everything she needed for her hpv. All while you bottled up the fact that you thought you were gonna die because she got you sick(your fine now thankfully, and the doctor cleared you and told you that it was super lucky)…. And then your family forced you to leave her, in their way. And you did, and she got violent again… But you were dying, everytime you saw her… You saw what she did… What she described to Alex…. You saw that she didnt love you…, and you left her there, the next day she left to San Antonio. You were fine for a month… Then in April she reached out to you, and you let her in. She was “different” and you went for it. But this Martha was selfish, this Martha made you do things for her, this martha tried turing you against your family. This Martha didn’t support you ever, this martha believed that it was your fault things went bad, because you told your family she cheated. She called you a coward for how you dealt with the pain she caused you. And she started tons of problems with you family through facebook…. This Martha, was the worst one…. This one… Abused your love and made you feel like the bad guy…. This Martha…. Was a monster. And then Angie came to town, and gave you the examples of how a couple fights together. Because at the moment, going to san Antonio for her birthday was going to be a huge mistake at home. You never had peace at home, and every day you fought with you family about her. And she wouldnt support you, she would leave you to burn. So you told her, you couldnt go with her for her birthday…, and she broke up with you. So you left. Until last week…. Last week, after 2 months of her texting you, you broke…. You reached out and told her how much you missed her. You explained that you were afraid to love her cause of how much she hurt you…. And she told you you were the only one still, and how much she loved you and how she only thought about you. But it was all lies dude…. She was fucking Justin, who was her best friends man and baby daddy. And she messed around with other too…. She didnt even last a month with out doing it…, and yeah, she came clean after she build you up with lies and made you hope again…. And then she broke you one more time…, the last time remember that. Because remember that you werw going to move in with her this time..,, that she was coming back to be with you…. Remember how much you were going to risk based on her lies…. Remember… That all this… Is why you cant love her.., and it’s why your not gonna send that text, or make that call…. Because this^ is enough pain… All this,.. Is not love….

[bonniejstarks]

How Schitt’s Creek and Annie Murphy Turned A Little Bit Alexis into a Certified Banger

When Schitt’s Creek airs its season finale next week, it will leave behind not a singular legacy, but a collection of indelible marks on pop culture: the inimitable Moira Rose and her singular accent. David and Patrick’s understatedly groundbreaking love story, immortalized on billboards and magazine covers alike. And a pair of wildly different songs that took on a life well beyond the show. One is a heartfelt cover of a classic that became a talisman for Schitt’s Creek’s most beloved relationship. The other is a frenetic, frothy synth-pop creation plucked from the ether that is Alexis Rose’s past.

It’s been just over a year since “A Little Bit Alexis” first entered our collective consciousness, in a season five episode that finds Alexis auditioning for the town’s unforgettable performance of Cabaret. “I have chosen to perform the title track off of my critically-reviewed, limited reality series, A Little Bit Alexis,” she proclaims proudly to a bewildered Moira and Jocelyn. “Feel free to sing along if you know the words!” Though that request is ignored on the show, in the real world, Alexis would find a lot of takers. Ever since the full track was released last year, a gradual snowball effect has taken “A Little Bit Alexis” from a fun character note to a bona fide hit that can be heard in gay clubs nationwide.

Over the past few weeks, as the coronavirus pandemic dramatically transformed daily life across the globe and sent millions of people into lockdown, “A Little Bit Alexis” took yet another new lease on life as a viral TikTok sensation. Dozens of quarantined fans across the world are, probably right at this very moment, trying out Alexis’s deranged dance moves as a means of staving off cabin fever. As Alexis herself would doubtless say: yum!

The appeal of “A Little Bit Alexis” only grows as you discover more about its creation: Murphy herself wrote those ingenious lyrics while enlisting two musicians—her husband, Menno Versteeg, and his former bandmate Nick Boyd—as her collaborators. Below, the full story of how “A Little Bit Alexis” was conceived, created, and shaped into a phenomenon, as told by Murphy, Schitt’s Creek co-creator Dan Levy, and the entire musical creative team.

Dan Levy: From the first few days my dad and I spent brainstorming about what the show could be, I had come up with this little detail from Alexis’s past: She had a very short-lived, critically reviewed reality show called A Little Bit Alexis. It’s one of those things you write down as context for the character without knowing whether it’ll make it into the show. Four seasons later, Alexis auditioning for Cabaret felt like the perfect opportunity to hear the title track.

Annie Murphy: We were at the table read and I saw in the script, “Alexis performs ‘A Little Bit Alexis,’” and that’s all it said. I was both inspired by and jealous of Noah Reid in the previous season, when he did his own beautiful rendition of “Simply the Best.” So I immediately said to Dan, “I will try to write this,” not realizing that I am not a musician and Noah very much is a musician! And somehow Dan agreed to let this happen.

Levy: I like to hand over the torch to the cast and say “run free” with that kind of content creation. With Noah and his cover of “The Best,” I had given him the choice of whether to take a stab at it himself or bring someone in. With Annie it was the same approach, and she said, “Please let me take a stab at this.”

Murphy: Once I got the green light, of course I was like, “Oh fuck. Okay, resources, resources.” So I found my two dear musician people, and told them, “Well, I just got myself into a predicament.”

Menno Versteeg: I remember very clearly the moment Annie described it to me, the whole scene and what it needed to be and the backstory of the song. Earlier that same day, I’d been in some kind of chain fashion store and “Work Bitch” by Britney Spears was on. The second she told me, I knew I wanted to rip off the feel of that song. We set out to make a song you want to do spin class to.

Murphy: We went into my friend Nick’s studio, and we listened to “Work Bitch” so many times our ears started to bleed, but in the best way. We also listened to “Stars Are Blind” and a bunch of Paris Hilton stuff. And then Nick and Menno got to work on the melody, and I started writing the lyrics, and we all got on a roll.

Nick Boyd: Menno and I were in a band [Hollerado] together for years and years. We were all friends growing up and Annie would sometimes come with us on tour, so we’ve been making music and hanging out together as pals for literally 20 years.

Versteeg: When you’re married to someone who’s in a band, it’s a very specific type of relationship. For the first half of Hollerado’s career, Annie was a struggling actress—she would get the odd commercial or bit part here and there, but she had a lot of time off. So she would often come on tour with the band, and that would involve sometimes coming onstage to sing with us. We ended up writing songs together—she wrote half the lyrics to one of the more well-known Hollerado songs, “Good Day At The Races.” All of that backstory factored into what we were able to do with “A Little Bit Alexis.”

Murphy: We knew it had to be funny, and we knew it had to be kind of spoofy, but we all secretly wanted it to be a fucking banger of a song that people would actually put on to pre-drink to and, you know, dance to at the club. [Pauses] I sounded like such a grandmother there. “Dance to at the club”?

Boyd: When Menno and Annie came in, I had already put together a baseline and a groove, and they were feeling it, so we started brainstorming verse ideas. We knew the era when the song was supposed to have been released [the early 2000s], so we asked ourselves, what would Alexis’s younger self have wanted to put out, given the musical trends at that time?

Versteeg: There’s something really fun about being able to do trashy garbage pop that’s also tongue-in-cheek. It doesn’t need to be subtle in any way, you just throw in every single hook you can think of. Annie wrote all the lyrics, and she’s one of the funniest people on this entire planet, and that really reflected when she started having fun with the lyrics.

Boyd: Annie knows the character so thoroughly, from top to bottom, so it was easy to say whether a lyric was gonna work or not. I think somebody suggested “I’m a little bit drunk when I drive my car,” and Annie was like, “Well, she wouldn’t say drunk. She would say tipsy.” And that lyric really spring-boarded the process, because the idea behind it is that she is above the law—she can get away with anything and has no sense of her own privilege. That became a theme for us.

Murphy: I think I just blacked out and woke up and it was written down.

Levy: Everything in the show is considered, so we were never going to use a version of the song that didn’t feel right for the character. What’s so spot on about the lyrics they came up with is they really highlight this stark contrast between who Alexis was and who she is now.

Murphy: My favorite moment, when we were recording, was trying to make that “neigh” as sexy as possible. It’s an intense moment. I remember being like, “I never thought I’d be in the position of sexily whispering ‘neigh’ into a microphone, but here I am.”

Chris Soper: I’d known Annie and Menno and Nick for years—they would do their records at the same studio I worked out of in Brooklyn. Menno approached me after they’d done the writing and recording and asked if I would mix the song. He described this vision for something that sounded like a 2000s Britney Spears dance hit.

Versteeg: There’s a term producers use to describe music: a track is “in the box” or “out of the box,” and “the box” means the computer. So an out-of-the-box track would be something like Arcade Fire: all their gear is analogue, every single sound is a real sound that comes from an instrument, in some cases there’s no computer involved until the very end. “A Little Bit Alexis” is entirely the opposite: It’s made completely inside the computer. We didn’t use one real instrument. It’s the cheapest, quickest, dirtiest way to get the most bang-for-your-buck sound. You’re not trying to get anything that sounds fresh.

Soper: It’s pretty much an assault from beginning to end.

Murphy: I took it to Dan and nervously waited by my phone. Then I got an “Obsessed with this!” which is the highest form of praise from Dan Levy.

Levy: I was expecting a scratch-track, a basic idea of the song. And they went ahead and fully produced a banger!

Versteeg: I own a record label, and part of that is being able to hear when a song is a genuine, certified banger. The second I got the mix back from Chris, I was like, “If they don’t use it, they are literally deaf.”

Levy: It really felt like a moment from her past. It couldn’t sound too current, it had to live within the world of Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, people who were big in the early 2000s when Alexis would have been shooting this reality show. Annie just ran with it!

Murphy: I think the success is half people liking it and half it getting stuck in your head in such an intense way: “I guess I like this, or I’ll go insane.”

Levy: The cover art was really important. We got to dig in and say, ‘okay, what did singles look like back then? What was the font like, what kind of photo would they use?’ We had to ask Annie if she had sexy photos from her past, which fortunately she did! We worked with the CBC on it—Calum [Shanlin], who does social media for the Schitt’s Creek account, created [it].

The cover art for “A Little Bit Alexis.”

CBC

Boyd: There was a moment, on the soundtrack chart, where it was sort of neck and neck with a bunch of the songs from A Star Is Born. I think it was number four, and the top three were all from A Star Is Born. That was a real “holy shit” moment. To be clear, it was there for maybe a week, but still!

Versteeg: A portion of the proceeds are getting donated to this really great Canadian organization called MusiCounts. It’s an organization that provides instruments and resources in schools that otherwise couldn’t afford music programs.

Levy: “A Little Bit Alexis” didn’t have the same overnight instant success that Noah’s “Simply The Best” had. It was a smaller detail in an episode, it wasn’t the climax of a storyline in the way Noah’s was, so you didn’t necessarily have the same rush of people desperately needing to find the song. The scene is 60 seconds long, and yet slowly but surely, the song has made its way onto people’s iTunes playlists and Spotify playlists and it’s been played in gay nightclubs across the world!

Murphy: I was in New York in December, and I was meeting a friend at a drag bar and had arrived early. One of the queens came up to me and said, “Just so you know, I’m about to do a DJ set where I play “A Little Bit Alexis,” and it goes into “Work Bitch,” so if that’s gonna be uncomfortable for you…” I was like, “I’m obviously staying for this!” The whole fucking bar was singing, like word for word, and dancing. And it was at that moment that my friend arrived. I had to be like, “I swear to God, I have not paid these people off. This is just a really fucking weird thing that’s happening to me right now.”

Dan: It’s always great when once in a while, somebody tweets footage from the inside of a very dark, steamy gay bar, and all you hear is “A Little Bit Alexis” thumping over the sound system. I’ve had situations with both Annie and Noah’s songs where I’ve been driving my car and I hear the song, and I look over and it’s the person in the car beside me, listening to it in their car on full blast! That’s been completely surreal and amazing.

Annie: I mean, I just performed with Kelly Clarkson on Kelly Clarkson’s talk show. In my wildest version of this, I never would have imagined that that would be happening. I knew I was going to be on her show, but I got a call about two days before from the producer asking, “Kelly was wondering if you’d consider performing ‘A Little Bit Alexis’ as a duet with her?” I was like “I’m sorry, did you just ask me if I would consider performing, with Kelly Clarkson, a song that I wrote?” It’s run away from me in the best way possible.

Dan: The song is ultimately a testament to Annie and her creativity and ingenuity as a performer, that she contributed in this way to the show, but also honestly to pop culture as a whole. We will all be listening to this song for years to come.

Emma Dibdin Contributor Emma Dibdin writes about television, movies, and podcasts, with coverage including opinion essays, news posts, episodic reviews and in-depth interviews with creatives.

The post How Schitt’s Creek and Annie Murphy Turned A Little Bit Alexis into a Certified Banger appeared first on Trends Dress.

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[0225pm]

it is currently 8:34am!!

just wanted to update on today’s events before i sleep.

so earlier this morning, i accompanied my mom to akmal’s madrasah graduation but rayhan managed to book out earlier than expected so he was able to come see the grad. but in the letter they said that they only allowed max of 2 people into the hall so i decided to just let my mom and rayhan go since tbh, i wasn’t wearing the proper attire to go in the masjid anyway. at first, i was kinda upset with my mom cus i didn’t see the point of me going if rayhan was going since only 2 people are allowed per child but then thinking of my mom going there on her own makes me worry a little since she’s rather frail so i decided to go with her and sent her to the masjid, waited for rayhan to come before making my way to bedok interchange.

it has been a rather long while since i’ve been to the interchange, or anyway really, on my own. i’m the kind of person that prefers having company than doing things alone. some may say that i lack independency but whatever it is, it’s always nice to have company. as i was walking around aimlessly in the mall, i thought of going to mcdonald’s to just lepak until my mom calls but it was too damn crowded and i missed the breakfast timing by a minute, so that was a bummer. but yeah, can you actually imagine me eating alone??? the last time i had to do that was back when i was working for YG at OG and taka, for my lunch break since i was working alone lol. but anyway, as i made my rounds at each levels, i finally decided to buy something to eat at old chang kee and then as i went back up the escalator, i thought of going to heartbeat but then again the thought of having to walk all the way there while i was socially sweating seems like a major no at that point so i decided not to and went to starbucks instead. alas, what a poor decision i’ve made. like literally, poor LOL cus i was $8.80 poorer after buying one of their christmas frappe lol and i didn’t even add whipped cream!! i should have said yes to whipped cream bc those are free unless you want extras, then you’ll have to pay. but anyway, the good thing is there was a lot of empty seats at starbucks which was quite weird considering that it’s a saturday but i was thankful cus it means that i didn’t have to stand awkwardly waiting for my mom to call.

so after i collected my drink, i sat down and i watched a couple episodes of chilling adventures of sabrina on netflix. luckily i downloaded a few so i managed to save on data haha but i didn’t think to bring my portable charger and my battery was getting pretty low after awhile. also i noticed that the person spelled my name as “hady” instead of “heidy” lol but wtvr doesn’t bother me. and then i think around 1+ almost 2, my mom called saying that they’re done with the ceremony and then asking me to go meet her and my cousins at this shop called new rezki and at first i was kinda lost and then well, my mom has this habit of like screeching her voice into the phone so it sounds like she’s shouting and/or raising her voice intensely like as though she’s mad and pissed at you but really, she’s not. i guess it’s a bad habit she picked up after countless “huh hello” whenever she called someone. but yeah, so i got a little bit upset cus the feeling’s not good when someone is raising their voice at you and i was wearing my earpiece for goodness sake so i kinda raised my voice a little too and then like i said, i was lost so she tried to direct me but LOL i ended up just googling and apparently it’s just right across the interchange, roughly about 4 mins walk as stated on map.

after seeing me, we all started ordering the food we wanted. akmal got fried noodles, rayhan had to watch what he eat cus he’s in NS and he’ll be punished if he gains weight instead of losing so he got a bowl of beef salad. my mom got bee hoon kuah and i got their mutton chop. it was ok but very oily for my taste so i don’t think i’ll ever buy that again unless i’m craving for it and if i’m nearby. it’s a dollar cheaper than the ones selling at thohirah though. oh and the shop is 24/7 too! i guess most, if not all, mamak eateries are 24/7. after we had our lunch, my mom bought some lauk back for my dad and for dinner and then we all headed back to the interchange. from there we split ways with my cousins cus they were taking the bus at the entrance of the mall, whereas we were taking the one at the interchange.

the moment i reached home, i quickly took a shower again and shampooed my hair cus i perspired earlier on and as i was changing i heard knocking on my window. i was so shook wtf cus i wasn’t expecting anyone but turns out it was farhan. like seriously what the heck.... LOL i was happy la but i was also very shock cus i thought he was gonna take the train but he actually took a grab all the way to my place instead. damn bobo la hahahaha and i wasn’t even fully ready yet even. so i rushed and did my usual face makeup and then let him in so he didn’t have to wait so long for me outside and then i did my usual going out routine. drying my hair, straightening a little, picking outfits and putting them together in my head. for some reason i was super duper indecisive about my outfit today. like idk why i couldn’t just grab and go like i usually do. and i also always will look through look books or style accounts and then visualize it in my head and i’m set but idk why the hell was i so damn frikin indecisive and fickle minded about my outfit today i kept changing and changing and then wearing different pieces together and shit and lol i finally ended up wearing the first outfit i tried which was just a black dress with a denim jacket. the sad thing is, the dress was kinda short and when i walk it gets even shorter so every now and then i had to pull it down but it’s really a cute dress though i think it’ll be nicer on someone shorter haha.

we walked to the bus stop and then went to tampines cus i had to get the brooch that my mom wants at isetan and while on the way there we were thinking of what to eat and looking through links that i’ve saved on facebook on different places we can go and eat at but most of them were either too far or too expensive and we don’t have that kind of money to throw on food yet, especially not when we still have 2 more weeks left till end of the month. after awhile, we decided to stop at tamp hub and eat at the thai shop, the one where we ate before. but lol the queue was so long and it seems like a long wait + majority of the tables were filled so we settled for tenderfresh. i felt like having fish so i got their grilled fish with aglio olio and farhan got the chicken chop one. i like their aglio olio!! it has this mild spice taste and farhan says that it’s kinda like mee goreng. overall, it was nice. their buffalo wings could be a little bit spicy though but it was still good! 😋

after our late lunch early dinner, we went to isetan to see the brooches but sadly there wasn’t anymore sale price and it was going at $19 per pin so i called my mom and ask if she still wants it and she said no cus it’s too expensive and if it was $9 like before it’ll still be ok. so we ended up not getting anything there. though now thinking about i felt like i should have just splurge my money to get her one brooch at least since she has been wanting it when she first noticed it last saturday.

afterwards, i casually mentioned genki before to farhan and he thought i was joking but lol we ended up taking the train and going to genki cus i said that i wanna satisfy my cravings. we went to the bugis outlet and surprisingly the queue was moving really fast. i got the ones i wanted and we spent less than 20 bucks there which was really unexpected but also good i guess. i’m so thankful that farhan was ok with splitting the bill even though he didn’t even eat a lot. then after that we walked from bugis to dhoby as usual and i wanted to walk even further down towards plaza sing bus stop but we saw another 65 coming so we decided to walk back towards the sota bus stop and take it there instead hehe.

i really enjoyed my day today with him. it has been a wonderful day and i hope that we will have more good happy days like these. i like how we shared our music interest while on the bus ride home, and then i was so in awe when i heard him rapping!!! he really look so cool at that moment hahaha like im not kidding. maybe i’m the only one who sees him and think that he’s cool la but hahaha wtvr 😂 i also like how we joked a lot and just sorta teased each other lol or maybe that was me bc i kacau him on the train ride towards bugis hahaha and his reactions are all so cute wth i just wanna squish him 🥰😍 and then i get to lay in his arms!!!! that’s always my fav part at the end of the day tbh. just being in his embrace hais.... oh and he went home really late (or should i say early lol) around 7am cus we had a hard time booking a grab!!! but also bc we were busy playing ml hahaah we were on a roll but had to stop since he hasn’t been home for the whole day and me too but like my house is just here ya know whereas he lives all the way at the other side hahaha so yeah i gotta get him back home and to sleep also since we didn’t get much sleep that night. one day i wanna try sneaking him into the house and letting him just sleep in my brother’s room or something after my dad’s asleep. but idk if i have the guts haha or maybe should do like that time when he stayed in my brother’s room till really late and we played games together and watched movies on netflix. that was fun too 😁