#but i don’t have a debit card and asking my parents would be crazy

[xoadoratio]

ohhh the brain worms

[subwaysurf45]

A Starry Night (pt. 1)

Summary: The first day of college didn’t go as planned. But who knew one bad high could cause a great friendship?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Warning: weed, drinking, angst, crying

Words: 4,517

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“As much as I love to study and work,” you huffed between lugging the last of all your clothes from a box onto your twin mattress, “I want to experience some things in my first year,” all the clothes were out of the box, the last one you needed to empty. 

Natasha, your roommate, swung her legs off her desk chair, “I get it,” she flipped her red hair over her shoulder out of habit, “there were things you missed out on because of your parents, it’s normal.” Natasha had seen your parents turn from the fun ones to stricter than the Catholic Church in a matter or seconds. She’d been your friend since grade seven when you were put on the same intramural spike ball team by chance, you both ended up quitting and joining the STEM club. She was there before, during, and after the incident. 

“I’ve drank before, you know that, but I’m saying I want to get fucked, I want to blackout and get a crazy hangover, y’know?” You stacked your shirts together and shoved them all in the tiny space in your closet. 

“Not sure you wanna get a crazy hangover-”

“You get what I’m saying, I know about the headache and all that but I just want to party and finally be free,” Nat nodded and watched as you shoved your pants into the other drawer. 

Today was the day you had moved into your dorm, making it your first day at college. Natasha moved in two days prior by luck of the draw, this whole time she was texting pictures of your very small place, it got tons of natural light to make it look bigger. The mattress pad you brought from home was still wrinkled and not fully puffed up but when you laid on it the original mattress it made it way better. Two twin beds and two desks with the chairs that can’t be tipped over, the rest was up to you. Nat had already put up a few posters and polaroids but you were still stuck on the necessities, it took longer than expected. Classes started in two days so this was technically ‘frosh-week’, but it was more ‘frosh-couple of days’ in your opinion. Nat had already been invited to a house party and she asked if you could tag along, the host didn’t know you but that said sure either way. You didn’t have party clothes because your mother went through everything you were bringing and took out the lace bra you bought along with anything that showed your stomach, Nat had good clothes, she knew that was going to happen and came prepared. You placed a few knick-knacks on your desk, a stress ball, and your laptop. Once the bathroom situation was sorted out you both decided to grab some well deserved coffees. 

The café wasn’t too far away, with the sun out it felt nice to let it bounce off your skin. A plain grey hoodie from the thrift store and some biker shorts that were Nat’s were what you were sporting, it seemed most people did the same. Natasha liked to show her body and you were fine with that, you would love to as well. Her belly button piercing showed with every step of her walk and her hair was pulled back. 

“You still drink that sweet coffee?” Nat giggled as she opened the door. 

“No I don’t, I drink cold brew, thank you very much.” You punctuated the end of your sentence with a little smirk, in high school you only got caramel macchiatos while Nat got black coffee, she always bugged you about it and still did after you changed to cold brew in senior year. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The, most likely, fourth year asked from behind the register. 

“Medium cold brew with a splash of almond milk and a medium iced americano with two-”

“-three-”

“-Three shots of espresso, please,” Nat tapped herr card to the debit machine and headed over to the other side, “I think you’re addicted, babe,” you laughed as Nat tried to cover her face. 

As the lady with the septum piercing was making both your drinks a guy walked up to Nat, “hey, Nat, what’s going on?” his voice was quite deep, he was also built like a greek god. The shiny blond hair and the perfect blue eyes had Nat’s mouth watering, his muscles seemed to ripple under his fitted gym shirt. 

“Jus’ gettin’ coffee,” she was drunk talking to him, when she snapped out of her dreamy state�� and remembered you were here she shook her head quickly, “this is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, the host of the house party tonight.” 

“Hi,” you smiled and stuck you hand out for a shake, “I hope I’m still cool to come even though I wasn’t invited,” you tried to play it off but that was for sure the dumbest thing you’ve said. 

“The more the merrier,” Steve laughed, his teeth were perfect, “I got some of my buddies coming too, they’re bringing the drinks and most likely weed, hope that’s okay?” Steve turned to you. You knew Nat had smoked and drank before, when Steve turned to you it felt nice, like he was already checking in with you, he most likely did the same to Nat when she was first invited. 

You were about to answer but your drinks were ready, as you turned to grab them Natasha started talking, “she’s good with that, we did it a few times in high school, but we aren’t avid smokers, per se,” with your back turned you could hear Nat’s blush spreading all the way to her ears. She wasn’t lying, you had smoked before but only took one drag before freaking out and going home to get scolded by your parents. 

“No worries, trust me,” you turned back to them and Steve looked at you, “this isn’t high school shit, if you don’t want to drink or smoke, no one will get mad, we’re all here to find friends and have a good time,” shrugged his ripped shoulders, “plus,” he laughed before telling the joke, “the more weed for Bucky, the better.” you were supposed to understand that joke, but you’ve never met a ‘Bucky’ before. 

As you both walked back to your dorm Natasha introduced you to a few other people and Sam, who lived with Steve and this Bucky guy. Sam was a real sweetheart, he complimented your hair and talked about his program. Engineering. 

“Really?” You gasped. 

“Ya,” Sam nonchalantly shrugged.

“You want to build plane engines?” Your jaw was still hung open and your eyes were still wide, 

“that’s incredible!” 

“My dad did it, I want to do it,” Sam pulled you both for a one armed hug, “I gotta go, see you tonight!” He called over his shoulder. 

With an overly dramatic huff your back hit against your now fully puffed up mattress. You did a final organize of all your school supplies and had a small war against your bins when trying to get them under your bed. Small beads of sweat lined your forehead and your grey hoodie was darker under your arms, the little fan your mother had bought was doing a good job, not a great one. Nat was in and out of the room, sometimes she’d purposely knock over the things you just organized with a cackle but you’d both laugh it off. She’d be getting phone calls and text messages, part of you was worried she’d leave you for other friends but when Nat caught your eye she’d nod and send you their social media information. Even Sam, who you met just hours ago, had sent you a text during your organization moment, he said he wanted to get to know you and Nat more, he and Steve wanted to get you both in their friend group. 

“What are you going to wear?” Nat turned around in the bathroom, her side leaning against the doorframe. 

“I don't know,” you sighed, “my parents went through everything and took out my party clothes,” you sat up and gave her a knowing look. 

“I’m guessing they said no drinking?” she gave a sympathetic look, Nat was the only one allowed to talk about that stuff. 

“They said no partying, but they can’t control me,” Nat nodded with a wide smile, “and I know you said that during high school, but I feel it now,” the random burst of confidence rushed through you, you shot up and walked over to Nat’s closet, “give me something nice to wear, this is my first party ever and I need to impress these new guys.”

“But not too much, Steve is mine,” Nat laughed as she walked over, “here, try this.” 

It was just a tank top, but full of shimmers. Not the cheap kind where they fall off, but the fabric itself was subtly sparkly. You’d wear black jeans, which were yours, with it because the top was the statement piece. It was time to get ready anyway, Nat was in the bathroom to start priming her face. You slipped on her pushup bra and threw the shirt over top, it fit nice. There was a very old and dusted full length mirror but it was enough to see just how good you looked, everything worked together, this was the moment you’ve been waiting for. 

Until the phone rang. 

“Oh shit!” You yelled as you saw the caller ID, “my mom can’t see me like this, what do I do?” You called to Nat who was unfazed in the bathroom. 

“Don’t answer,” Nat shrugged, “you can’t bring your phone to the library and the book club is very, very formal…” that little smirk grew again, “right?”

In awe you just looked at her, “you can get out of it all, can’t you?” both of you began to laugh over the sound of that haunting ringtone. You crammed in the bathroom and Nat tapped your lips with some gloss, “thank you,” you squeeked, “I don’t want a ton, you know that.”

“Do I ever,” Nat giggled and kept doing her makeup while you watched the number of missed calls pile up, part of you wanted to answer but the other half knew they would win. You needed to be firm and let them know you weren’t a kid anymore, they couldn’t attach those strings and act like the puppeteer all the time. After one deep breath Nat walked out, “you can answer if you want, I’m not trying to get in your head and pull you the other way.”

“No,” you just watched it flash again and again, “it’s just…” you sighed and looked at her. 

“I know,” she nodded.

“They care, they care a lot and sometimes it’s too much but-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to think about that, “they have a good reason, y’know? It’s not like they are strict for the fun of it,” you picked up your phone and silenced it, shoving it in your back pocket. 

Nat wrapped an arm around your shoulder after making it outside in the crisp fall air, “you know you’re responsible, I know you’ll be overly responsible tonight,” She glanced at her phone for the address and took the turn, “but have some fun, you really deserve it.” 

The party had already begun, it was dark in and out of the house but the outside didn’t have music or coloured lights all around. It wasn’t crammed like the movies from shoulder to shoulder but there were pockets of people standing and talking, they paid you both no mind. Nat kept your hand in hers as she navigated the hallway, looking back with a smile. When she made it to the backyard Steve, Sam, and another guy were sitting on the couch. There was a bong, rolled joints, beers- empty and full -as well as some water bottles. 

“You made it!” Steve jumped up and walked over, Sam quickly followed. Hugs were passed out but the one other guy was still sitting, rolling another joint. As Sam applauded you for coming you couldn’t help but get distracted by the sound of a lighter starting up many times, you’d look over to see this guy leaned very close to the joint and looking concentrated; his tongue poked out between his lips. 

Everyone sat down and you were last to find a spot, you ended up joining the mystery man on the two seater couch. The bounce when you sat down startled him out of his work, “oh, shit,” he looked up and giggled, “didn’t hear you guys walk in, welcome,” he turned to you, “we haven’t met, I’m Bucky.”

A calloused and dry hand met yours, “Y/N,” you spoke softly, eyes darting around to all the weed that would get you in so much trouble if your parents saw. 

“Y/N,” he tested the sound, a smile growing, “very pretty.” he looked at you longer than normal before looking away to shake Nat’s hand. His hair fell perfectly down to the middle of his neck, it was wavy and beautifully brown. All you wanted was to see his teeth and that smile he kept casting towards you, it seemed to ignite something. 

You felt swallowed by the couch but chose not to let it eat you whole, conversations were already starting and you were just sat there, looking around. Everyone’s voices were mixing together, a yell and loud laugh came fair and far between. It was calm to you, nothing like what your parents had said. Part of you always knew they over exaggerated drinking, parties, and drugs after what happened but you didn’t think they went too far over the top, but they did. No glass was breaking and no one was fighting, just peace. Your head slowly leaned back and rested on the top of the couch, the sun was fully down and the stars were out. There was less light pollution here, you could see stars for miles on end without any strain. There was a bounce but you thought nothing of it, until smoke started to get in the way of the stars. You looked over to see Bucky doing the same thing, head leaned back and looking up. 

When he noticed you had looked over so he tilted his head to you, “what exactly are we looking for?” he whispered, there were still voices in the background that didn’t concern either of you. His knuckles lightly tapped your thigh, when you looked down you saw him holding a joint. 

“I’ve never done it right before,” you whispered, not meeting his eyes. When he didn’t respond you looked up, he seemed to be fighting with something. 

“You want me to teach you or do you want me to pass it on? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to smoke,” though you just met him you could tell he was being genuine, no smirking or laughing, just a real question to make you feel as comfortable as possible. 

“Pass it on,” you muttered. Bucky gave a curt nod and leaned over you to sluggishly pass the joint to Sam, when he came back his head was closer to you and his thigh was touching yours. “Thanks,” you whispered, focusing on the stars. 

He brought his hand and patted your thigh before dropping it back down to the couch, “don’t worry, no one will pressure you and that shit, it’s stupid,” Bucky looked over to you, you felt this urge to look at him, “do you want to at some point?”

“I think so,” you nodded. 

“Cool,” his face lit up a bit, “just tell me and I’ll show you, it won’t be weird or embarrassing, I’ve taught Steve,” Bucky laughed and sat up, you followed, “isn’t that right Steve?” Bucky cut through his and Nat’s conversation. 

It seemed to be the shit eating grin Bucky was giving Steve because he understood, “Bucky, I swear, you didn’t teach me,” Net perked up, Steve just rolled his eyes. 

Bucky turned to you, “I caught this punk watching a youtube video on how to smoke, he stole my pre rolled joints and everything,” Steve was pink and covering his face, Nat was laughing. You just giggled and nodded along, “I find it very nice when someone asks to learn, in my opinion.”

You were in the conversation, talking with everyone. You and Nat shared some embarrassing stories and it was then that you were reminded of how strong your bond was with the red head. Natasha knew all the stories about you, she was there that day in court. Not once did she edge a story but pull away or even give a snarky look, silently saying ‘I have dirt on you’. She told stories about the time where you got hit in the face three times with only seconds between during dodgeball or when you threw up right before your band performance, you ended up playing your flute with a little left over on your lip. You spilled a few things to Steve, noticing the brewing chemistry between them. Natasha graduated after getting into a fight with another girl over nothing, she lost a nail so when she held her diploma she did it strategically. Or when she was score keeping the football game and a player was running her way, when she realized the player would run into her and the scorekeeper’s table she got up and ran away, leaving the football team’s head coach’s laptop to get absolutely wrecked. 

Near the end of the story time Bucky had passed the joint to you, asking again if you wanted to try. You’d become loose, you had a few beers. You said yes. Bucky was very happy, running inside to get one of his many lighters. 

“A gift,” he laughed, he was very high, “let’s go,” he talked you through it. In the middle of your exhale you began to cough, everyone giggled and so did you but Bucky laughed his way through patting your back. “Don’t worry,” his eyes barely open, “it happens.”

It came over you fast but smoothly, you were definitely high. While Bucky was telling stories about getting boners during his high school presentations you were laughing along with hooded eyes, your giggles would come out of nowhere but erupt into laughter. Bucky, who was higher than you, would laugh as well for no real reason. Nat looked at you a few times, silently checking in with a subtle thumbs up, you bit your bottom lip and nodded. Nat was a drinker rather than a smoker and even then you could hardly tell when she was drunk, she was able to sober up when taking care of you. 

You pulled out your phone to check the time but wasn’t expecting the full brightness, it took a second before you realized you had over a hundred missed calls and you had been at this party for three hours. It was a little past two in the morning. Bucky looked over to see where the brightness was coming from and managed to get a glimpse of the number of missed calls and the most recent text in your family group chat that read: we aren’t doing this again. 

“You should call them back,” Bucky said normally, a volume where everyone could hear him. 

“Who?” Sam leaned over. You turned off your phone and brought it up to your chest, “come on, who?” Sam sntached the phone out of your hands. He turned it on and saw everything. “Someone’s in trouble!” he sang like a child. 

“Give it back,” the world was spinning while you reached for it, making you miss. 

A more stern voice cut in, “give it back,” Nat said harshly, no trace of alcohol on her tongue.

Bucky leaned over to Sam and took the phone, “we should call them,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, “tell them that their daughter is higher than a kite,” Bucky turned on the phone again and was met by a call coming from your parents. His eyes quickly flashed to you, they were bug eyed and full of pure terror, “...or not…” he sounded like he was asking a question. The phone was still ringing and your breathing got faster, Nat came over and sat beside you. Your hand was flush against your chest as you began to rock back and forth, “what is happening?” Bucky turned to face you, he sobered up as well. 

“I don’t want to be high anymore,” you whispered. Your vision was tunneling and all you could picture was the incident. The flashing lights and your family, the courthouse and the lawyers, the papers and the therapists, all of it. Little whimpers came with your gasps for air, your legs were slowly curling into you while your arms crossed over your chest. The ringing in your ears sounded soft but it was completely blocking the sound of Bucky and Nat trying to talk to you. Your eyes focused on the phone that began to call again, you’ve heard the ringtone so many times it was all you could hear even though it wasn’t actually breaking through the dull ringing. 

Nat took your phone and put it behind her, your eyes didn’t move and were now looking at the little table that held the weed and drinks. Your hand reached to your left and gripped Natasha’s shoulder, she placed a hand over yours as well. Though it was fuzzy Steve and Sam ran inside, you didn’t know what they were doing. The table turned into Bucky’s face instantly, he was crouching in front of you, both hands on your legs as he looked up and met your eye line. You were looking through him, his face was fuzzy but you could faintly make out tear tracks running down his cheeks. The blurs came back and it must have been Steve and Sam, Bucky looked over his shoulder and then moved out of the way. 

Cold water was shot in your face. 

The fuzziness and the ringing went away but the rapid and shallow breaths stayed for a couple minutes. Bucky went back to where he was crouching and talked you down, “it’s alright, just keep breathing, you’re doing amazing, keep going,” his voice was soft and so light, you were almost able to tune out his sniffled, “I’m so sorry, that was probably so scary, shit, I’m sorry,” he whispered and rest his chin on your knees. 

With one final shaky breath you were back, Nat kept rubbing your back. You looked around to see Steve standing, looking very concerned, with an empty glass of water and Sam with a towel, Nat looked extremely sad and was resting her head on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and stood up, Bucky stood with you, “that was so uncalled for, that shouldn't have happened, I don’t-”

“Nat told us that your parents are controlling and not to bring your parents up in conversation,” Steve cut you off, Bucky nodded and looked down to the ground, “we are terrible friends for that, I’m sorry.”

“F-friends?” you looked at Steve then Sam then Bucky, “we’re friends?” you were genuinely shocked. 

“If we aren’t, I want to be now,” Sam let out a breathy laugh, “before all that when we were just talking, you and Nat were great,” he looked to the other boys for confirmation, “you’re really funny, and we can definitely forget what happened just now and if you ever want to talk we can be serious really quick, we’re not going to push you.”

“You guys are really laid back,” you looked at Bucky, “and it’s okay, I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” Bucky sniffed, “why don’t you guys stay over, I feel a pillow fort brewing…?” He leaned in with a smile, trying to sell you both on staying. 

“I’d love that,” you linked arms with Bucky and walked inside, everyone was gone, “it gives a chance for Nat and Steve to cuddle,” you whispered to Bucky. 

“Ladies and gentleman,” Sam jumped, “she’s back!”

The morning came soon, you ended up leaving the pillow fort and making your way to someone’s bedroom. It felt weird to sleep in someone’s bed but you slept over the covers so it wouldn’t be too weird. The ceiling was very boring but it seemed to be the best space for you to project images of last night on, it was flat and one colour so the blurry shapes seemed clearer. The internal battle to call your parents had been fighting within you for a while, your phone sat plugged in on the bedside table. The missed call was still present on your screen. 

With less than one ring your mom picked up, “-fuck were you thinking? You almost killed us! We were so worried and you thought it was just ok to not call us, did you not see our calls?” you weren’t on speaker but you could hear her voice loud and clear from your phone sitting on your lap. 

“I joined a book club, no phones in the library,” your voice slurred from lack of sleep. 

The call lasted a total of five minutes, you didn’t talk at all. You were reminded of what happens when drinking is involved, how that can change a family. They went into detail about everything, it ended up making you cry. You were done with hearing and talking about what happened as well as getting blamed, it wasn’t your fault, even lawyers told you so. But it still hurt whenever it was brought up. When you got the chance to hang up, you took it. 

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, “yeah?” Your voice sounded sad, it was obvious.

The door opened to show Bucky holding a croissant on a plate with an iced coffee, “hey, stranger,” he walked in, “I see you like my room the best?” He went to the bedside and placed the food there. 

Your eyes went wide, “oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t,” Bucky sat on the bed, right next to you, “I asked Nat for your coffee order, here you go.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. 

It wasn’t hard for Bucky to pick up on you crying, he could see your eyes that were red and puffy as well as a unwiped tear track on your neck. You could see his sympathetic look even though he tried to hide it, most likely not wanting to come off as condescending. You shifted closer and he did the same, his hand coming up and rubbing your back. He was looking at you and you were looking at him, his eyes went from one feature to another, trying to find clues written on your skin to help him answer the question he’s had since your breakdown last night. 

What the hell happened?

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[cursedbag]

cry

Tamaki Amajiki x Todoroki! Reader (This is a fluff I promise!)

I opened my eyes to see a white ceiling. Where am I? "Y-you're a-awake!" A familiar voice said which instantly made me smile. "Good morning Tamaki~" I cooed as I looked over at him. "W-well it's 1 in the afternoon..." He trailed off a bit. I giggled at his awkwardness which in turn made him turn to me with a small grin plastered onto his face.

"where are we?" I asked as I held his hand between mine. "o-oh! Y-you were part of a car accident and while you were mostly unharmed your body did go into shock and kind of shutdown on itself, y-you've been in a coma for..." Tamaki stopped before he said how long I was in a coma. "Tell me," I whispered as I got closer to his face. I saw a blush rise as he scooted away from me. "four months..." my eyes widen in shock. "So I missed Christmas and Valentine's day?!" I asked in shock.

"I-it's really not a big deal, y-you were injured and in a comatose state!" Tamaki defended quickly and he started to cover his face. He's so cute when he's flustered. "I'm going to spoil you rotten today baby," I said, I added a little wink before moving my hand towards my IVs and pulling them out. "ow..." I muttered before getting up. Tamaki was freaking out over what I was doing. "Tamaki, sweetie," I whispered as I walked over to the wall that he deemed fit for his sulking, "If I drop the holidays will you feel better?" I asked quietly. He nodded quietly. "Alright, I won't plan anything TOO crazy."

I filled out the necessary paperwork and walked hand and hand with Tamaki. Unfortunately, I didn't have clothes so I was only wearing sweats and the hospital gown. The snow fell gently onto our cheeks as we approached his car. "What did you do on valentine's day?" I asked as he started to drive. "W-well with you of course..." He said sheepishly. My eyes widened as I felt my heart squelch at how adorable he was. "I changed my mind when we get home I'm going to smother you with love, gift, and affection. And before you protest I'm doing this because I love you." I said before he could protest he pulled up to my dad's house and said to me quietly, "I have to run some errands today but I promise that'll be back at like 3." And with that, he left.

I approached my childhood home, I unlocked the front door and stepped into a much warmer environment. "I'm home!" I called out as I hung up my coat. I walked into the living room to see Shoto and Natsuo sitting on the couch playing some sort of game. "Hey," I said as I leaned in between them. "Hello," Shoto said nonchalantly, this made my eyebrows furrow.

"You have no reaction to me being alive after being in a coma?" I questioned Shoto as I placed my head on top of him. "He was crying when he heard the news," Natsuo teased as he poked our younger brother's cheek. Shoto swatted his hand away. "Well, at least I know you have a heart under that cold, daddy issued exterior." I teased him slightly.

"Anyways, who wants to go shopping with me?" I questioned with hope in my tone. "Didn't you just come from outside?" Shoto asked as he looked up at me. "Yeah, but I missed Christmas and Valentine's day with Tamaki and I really want to make it up. He spent Valentine's day by my side rather than staying home." I said I felt a blush rise on my cheeks just thinking about how sweet he was to me. "Alright, just don't start crying again like the last time you were talking about your boyfriend," Shoto said as he got up quickly.

We exited the house armed with warm coats and my father's debit card. "So Shoto," I struck up a conversation, "I've been gone for 4 months, got any juicy gossip for me? Like anyone at U.A?" I asked excited to hear what my younger brother was going to say. "It's the same old thing for me and I'm not telling you who I like," he said quickly.

I cracked jokes now and again as we went around the store. I was glad to spend some time with him, even if most of it was me making jokes about our daddy issues which only made him exhale through his nose.

"Maybe I should propose to him," I said as we passed a jewelry shop, "Will that make up for it?" I asked Shoto hopefully. "Didn't Amajiki want something not extravagant? Maybe take it down a notch Y/n," Shoto reasoned as we entered the store. "So maybe a promise ring? ooh, do you see that one?" I said as I pointed to a sterling silver tentacle ring. It was almost too perfect not to give as a promise ring.

"Isn't that a bit cliche of you? Getting him an octopus based ring?" Shoto questioned as he peered at the ring himself. "N-no! We went to an aquarium on our first date, which at this point was like 3 years ago, and he kept trying to make jokes about how he has eaten every animal there at least once but he kept stuttering and ruining his joke. I think it was just so sweet of him." I said as I thought back to the past. "See that's cute and all but you already told me this 3 years ago," Shoto said as he rolled his eyes.

"You make fun of me now but just you wait, Sho, one day you'll fall in love and you'll tell me about how cute they are and how you want to spend the rest of eternity with them. Just like how I want to spend the rest of eternity with Tamaki because he's just so kind and thoughtful and sure he gets nervous but he takes me out on dates regardless which is just so sweet and I wish he would stop being so negative about his abilities because he's amazing and I love him," I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't cry over him," Shoto whispered a bit embarrassed at his older sister crying tears of joy. "I never agreed to those terms."

We bought the ring and quickly went back home where I waited patiently for Tamaki. I held the box in my hands nervously as I watched my brothers play their game. I felt all my worries return when I heard someone ring the doorbell. "I'll get it!" I said as ran to the door quickly. I nearly fell as I slid down the corridor to the front door. "Tamaki!" I said with excitement and anxiety laced into my tone. "H-hi, Y/n..." He said awkwardly as he entered my father's residence.

"I need to tell you something..." I said as I held his hand and lead him to the living room. "Y-you're break up with me aren't you? a-and right in front of your brothers too? Everyone always said that you were too good for me. Alright, Todoroki-chan have a good life without me-"

"Oh, no baby I'm not breaking up with you," I said as I grabbed his face with my free hand, "And who said that I'm too good for you? I'll kick their ass over that bullshit." Tamaki's covered his face with his hands and mumbled a quiet "I want to go home." I giggled and sighed.

"So Tamaki, we've been dating for almost 3 years now and I've loved every about 912 days with you and I honestly can't imagine my life without you. You always try to do better which makes me want to do better. I'm not the one who deserves you in the long run because you're just so kind and thoughtful and even though you hate being the center of attention you date me despite the news always up my ass about being a Todoroki. I love you so I just wanted to ask you," I got on my knees, "Will you take this promise ring as a sign that I will love and cherish you for the rest of time or until you don't love me anymore?" I opened the box to reveal the ring inside. I looked up at Tamaki to see him crying and covering my face. "Y-you don't have to answer now! Or ever actually! It was stupid, let's just go back to the dorm." I said a bit shocked and overwhelmed by his sudden burst of tears. I waved goodbye to my brothers as I walked Tamaki out of the house and to his car.

I took his keys and drove the car to the dorms. The drive was silent except for the few quiet sobs that Tamaki let out. We walked to his dorm and we were about to enter his room when I heard Mirio's voice from down the hall. "Hey Roki it's great to see you functioning again-" he stopped when he saw the state of Tamaki. "What did you do to him?!" Mirio asked with slight anger in his tone he grabbed the collar of my jacket slightly.

"N-nothing I just got out of a coma and realized that I missed Valentine's day and I wanted to do something special but I think it was too special and I know he told me not to make a big deal out of Valentine's day but I just wanted to show him how much he meant to me but now I feel bad and wish I was still in that coma so that he wouldn't be crying!" I said as tears started to fall down my face as I held up the box that held the ring. Mirio let go of my jacket and looked at the box.

"He's crying because you proposed to him?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Y-yeah but he hasn't given me a response yet so now I'm just going to wrap him up as if he was a caterpillar in a cocoon and maybe wait till tomorrow," I said as I opened the door to Tamaki's room and walked him over to his bed. I grabbed one of the larger blankets and wrapped him up into a tight cocoon I laid him down on his bed. I closed the door and grabbed one of Tamaki's shirts to change into. Tamaki was still sobbing when I laid next to him but it was a lot quieter than it was before.

"I'm sorry if I overwhelmed you if I knew that you freak out like this I would have done it later and I'm sorry that you felt like I was going to leave you for someone else but really Tamaki the only guy for me is you and I did mean every word that I said in my proposal and I was just so excited about finding someone that I love because my parents didn't love each other so I thought that if I didn't do what my dad forced my mom to do I would do just fine in a relationship and one of the things that my dad did was force his marriage for his own personal gain and not for love. So I'm not going to force you to accept my promise ring proposal and if you want to just be my boyfriend then I'll be happy with just that as I'm just happy to be with you-"

"Yes, " Tamaki whispered, "I am willing to spend the rest of eternity with you."

I hugged him tightly. At that moment I felt calm. It felt as if it was just me and Tamaki.

For the rest of eternity.

[purplesurveys]

1141

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - Do you have a favourite day of the week? What is it about that day that you like so much? I feel like I just answered this recently, but let’s go with Friday again. Always nice to fade out after work and to finally close all my work tabs and chats, and not feel obligated to reply to anyone for a couple of days.

2 - Would you describe yourself as a sociable person or not? I’m not the most sociable person, like I don’t always have the energy to be at the maximum level of perky, but I am to an extent. I no longer find it difficult to approach people and strike up a conversation.

3 - Who was the last person you spoke to out-loud? What did you speak to them about? My mom. My former director, Ysa, sent me a scented candle earlier tonight - as a parting gift since she got promoted and got reassigned to my employer’s sister company - and I just asked my mom to light the candle up because I’m scared of matches and fire.

4 - Do you prefer tea or coffee? Coffee; I never drink tea.

5 - What's your ideal weather? When was the last time you had that kind of weather where you live? Any kind of weather where the temperature is anywhere below 25ºC (which is already considered quite chilly here) is fine with me.

6 - Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Does virtual count? I had a Jeopardy night on Zoom with my orgmates a couple of weeks ago. I might miss out on a couple of people, but I was with Peter, Elis, Andi, Carmel, Robin, Laurice, and Mik. Apart from that, my uncle treated me, my kuya, and my cousin Luke to lunch the morning after said Zoom call.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Oh my god, just this afternoon. I was in a Zoom call with a client and besides our PR agency, there was another marketing agency in the call who was also pitching their presentation deck. The entire call was pure bliss on my end, no one was making noise at home – the second it came to my speaking parts, Cooper started howling and barking like crazy because idk, maybe he saw an animal outside or something?? In any case it suddenly got very loud and I got caught off-guard, and I ended up stuttering several times as I was trying to focus.

8 - Do you have to wear a uniform at work or school? If not, what do you tend to wear? The only time I had to wear a legit uniform was in private school, which I attended from preschool to high school. We do have business casual dress code at work, but that in itself is pretty flexible so I don’t really count it as a ‘uniform.’

9 - Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Indoor cinema. I watch a lot of things that I’d love to be able to view with a much bigger screen - plus it’s a lot easier to maintain than a pool, lol.

10 - When was the last time you were at the beach? August 2019 :(

11 - Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. My parents also advise against getting my own credit card since I could pick up some bad spending habits from it, according to them. That sounds scary enough so I’m ok with my debit card.

12 - What do you tend to wear to sleep in? Does this vary depending on the time of year? Usually something light, short, and airy since I live in a tropical country that never gets to enjoy temperatures lower than like 23ºC.

13 - What do you tend to have for breakfast, if you eat it? Fried rice, hotdogs, and bacon strips are filling enough for me.

14 - If someone offered to cook you a three-course-meal of your choosing, no budget - what would you have? Oysters, filet mignon, and macarons.

15 - How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Anywhere between 7–9 during weekdays, and like 3–4 during weekends because revenge bedtime procrastination is real. Yeah, I’d say it’s enough on both ends.

16 - Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We have neither.

17 - When was the last time you did a load of laundry? Do you need to do some in the near future? I don’t do the laundry at home.

18 - Are you addicted to anything legal? What about illegal? I guess vaping? I’m a lot more reliant on it now versus the past few months, and I get a little restless whenever I have to charge it for an hour or so. 

19 - Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? A little bit, but I obviously haven’t had to express it in a while because of my much-lessened time on the road due to Covid. Standstill traffic is the biggest factor, but standstill traffic + stupid drivers who are impatient and end up not following the road lanes is the quickest way to irritate me and set me off.

20 - What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? I have no idea, and that’s precisely because I live in the suburbs in a city which would not make them a common sight.

21 - How is your hair styled at the moment? Low side ponytail.

22 - Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Not as much as I used to. I’ll probably post 5–7 tweets (versus the 50+ I’d post when I was younger) and share like 1–3 Facebook posts a day. I could talk about pretty much everything on Twitter since that’s my main dump - be it rants, my feelings, what I ate, the latest dumb thing Cooper did, etc. On Facebook I mostly share memes, at least family-friendly ones that wouldn’t alert my relatives lol.

23 - What are you watching/listening to at the moment? Nothing for either. I can hear some birds chirping outside since it’s finally getting brighter again, but that’s it.

24 - If you have multiple pets, do they all get along with each other or are there sometimes fights/scuffles? Cooper has actually finally settled down a bit so I’m starting to feel more comfortable letting him out with Kimi in the same room/floor. He understands that Kimi doesn’t like being disturbed so even though he’s in the mood to run around and be energetic and play catch or whatever, he always takes the time to tip-toe around Kimi. They’re not best buds by any means, but it’s enough to leave them be and not worry about a fight breaking out anymore. Sweet boys.

25 - What are some habits you have in common with your parents? My dad excessively blinks when he’s feeling tense or in an argument; I ended up picking that up from him. With my mom, it’s mostly phrases or expressions that she likes to use.

26 - Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? Beaches.

27 - When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? I either remember the page number or do a tiny dog-ear. Bookmarks aren’t the right match for me lol, I’ll most likely end up losing them.

28 - What's your favourite kind of cereal? Sweeter ones.

29 - Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? Yeah, my neck had actually been seriously stiff during my last shift and I couldn’t move my head unless I moved my entire body along with it. It’s died down now but I can definitely still feel the strain. My left shoulder in particular feels very strained at the moment and I’m feeling a considerable level of discomfort from it as I take this.

30 - What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? 2 Days 1 Night, the usual. The Korean style of video editing is phenomenal and can literally make anything funny.

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (5/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Here it is, the final chapter!  There's nothing I can say that can get across how touched I've been by the comments on this fic. The number of people who have shared things about their own struggles with mental health -- I'm not worthy of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

While I'm including this fic as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4718 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5: Winter

“So how was your week?” Jessica asked.

Patrick always felt like he should plan before therapy what he was going to talk about, but he never remembered to do that.

“It was a little crazy. The holidays at the store always are, although it’s very lucrative. The money we make in December will carry us through at least half of the upcoming year,” he said, pinching the webbing on one hand between his thumb and forefinger of the other.

“And did you feel more equipped to handle that? The busy store, and all your responsibilities around that? Especially with Christmas a few days away?”

Patrick shrugged, feeling obstinate. “I don’t know.”

Jessica let a silence settle, waiting for him to talk. Patrick hated this part; it made him feel like he was failing at therapy when he didn’t know how to fill that silence. What the right answer was. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa cushions, calling her bluff.

Finally, she relented and spoke, and Patrick felt like he’d won a round of whatever game they were playing. “You’ve never said much in here about your sexual orientation other than to talk about your husband and to say that things with your family are good. Was it always that way?”

Patrick tried not to roll his eyes. He knew this would be coming eventually. He’d been avoiding the subject of Rachel or his coming out process because he knew it would be something Jessica would fixate on. “I’m not depressed because of being gay, or… or anything to do with that. I love being gay.”

She smiled genuinely. “I’m glad. But humor me.”

“My parents always accepted me,” he said quickly, but that felt like a lie even though it was technically true.

“How old were you when you came out?” Jessica asked.

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, seeing no way to avoid the truth now. “I was… I was in denial about being gay for a long time.” Might as well get it all out, he thought. “When I was twenty-nine I broke off an engagement to my high school sweetheart — who was a woman — and moved away from my hometown. Pretty soon after that, I realized I was gay.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, but once I got through it and… and got together with David, I’d never been happier.”

He couldn’t help but see the smile she gave him in response to that as patronizing. “New love can flood the body with so many good chemicals that it swamps out all of the bad ones.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t happy?”

“No, I’m saying that the way you’ve framed things in some of our past sessions — that you were depressed before you moved here, and then you weren’t, and now for some reason you’re depressed again… that may not be the right way to frame it. Do you think perhaps it puts a lot of pressure on David as the source of your happiness?”

“I don’t put pressure on David,” Patrick protested.

“Is it possible that you put pressure on yourself, then? When it comes to your relationship with David and its importance in your life?” Jessica asked.

Patrick huffed and didn’t answer. Now she was contradicting herself from one sentence to the next.

“When did you come out to your family?” she asked.

“That isn’t why I’m depressed either,” he said.

Jessica sighed like he was finally challenging her constant state of serene acceptance. “Untangling the web of depression isn’t straightforward. It might be helpful to pull on different threads and see what they’re connected to. Okay?”

Patrick supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Then after another pause, he admitted, “It took me a while to come out to my parents.”

“Why is that?”

He stared at Jessica’s bookshelf for several seconds, his eyes running over the titles without reading them. “I worried that my parents wouldn’t be okay with it. They didn’t talk about gay people when I was a kid, really. Or when they did, they made it sound like a sad thing that we needed to tolerate because it wasn’t a choice. You know, that brand of ‘tolerance’ that is just that and nothing more.”

She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s understandable why you were hesitant to come out to them.”

“But they were great about it. It wasn’t long after coming out to them that I asked David to marry me, and they were great. They love him, and all my worries were unfounded,” he said, trying to figure out why tears were threatening to spill over.

Jessica took a few seconds to rearrange herself, setting her ever-present portfolio aside and leaning forward on with her elbows on her knees. “I understand that, looked at a certain way, you’ve had a purely positive experience with coming into your sexuality. You had David, who from what you’ve said before is a very loving person. And based on what you’ve told me, you live in an accepting community. And then your parents stepped up and were there for you when you asked them to be. That’s all wonderful, and not to be discounted. But it doesn’t change the fact that for all of your formative years, when maybe on some subconscious level you did know that you were gay, or at least different in some fundamental way, you didn’t feel like your parents or the community you were living in would accept you. That kind of experience leaves a mark, even though everything turned out fine.”

She smirked, leaning backwards again. “Or not. Perhaps your serotonin is low due to simple physiology and I’m completely off the mark.”

Patrick felt strangely reassured by this honesty, this admission that she knew that she didn’t know everything. “So I need medication, then?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Medication might help. Or cognitive behavior therapy could help you. Or both together.”

His reassurance quickly dissolved, leaving Patrick wanting to scream at his therapist, fix me, goddammit! Instead he said, “That all sounds very nebulous.”

She grinned. “From what I know about you so far, I bet that’s driving you crazy, and I’m sorry about that. Can you bear with me for a little while, though? Work through the process?”

He sighed. “I’ll try.”

~*~

Patrick drove past the empty storefront on Elmdale’s main street as he was leaving his therapy appointment. He’d noticed every week that the ‘for lease’ sign was still in the window. After the second time he saw it, he’d texted Ray to ask if that was the space he’d mentioned to David. David hadn’t said anything about the second Rose Apothecary location in a while, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was still thinking about it, and probably wondering when Patrick would be ready to seriously entertain the idea again.

On impulse, he pulled into one of the parking spaces that lined the street and got out of the car, walking over to the empty storefront. The windows were covered in paper, but he could see enough through the gaps to make out that it had a scuffed up hardwood floor. It would need to be refinished, he thought, but it looked like it was in pretty good shape.

The smell of coffee attracted Patrick’s attention, and he looked over to see that there was a coffee shop next door. Grind House, the sign that hung under the awning said. Curious, Patrick went over and opened the door.

The barista looked up and waved. It being around two in the afternoon on a weekday, the place was mostly empty other than two people at a table in the corner who were huddled over laptop computers. The shop was decorated tastefully for Christmas, and he thought David would approve of the warmth and coziness of the space.

“Hey, what can I get you?” the barista — Taylor, her name tag read — asked him with a smile. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of her t-shirt, black ink against dark brown skin.

“A small earl grey tea?” he asked.

“Sure thing. Is that it? We’ve got a few pastries left.”

His eyes strayed over to the pastry case. “Yeah, could I get a couple of those butter tarts to go? My husband is a real connoisseur.”

Taylor grinned at him. “Smart man.”

“Hey, what do you know about the empty space next door? Do you know if there’s been any interest in it?”

“Oh man, I’m still bummed about that. It used to be a comic book shop. I was afraid to go in there for the longest time — comic stores aren’t necessarily the most welcoming places to black queer women, you know? But the old guy that ran it was super nice. I remember he made a point of telling me when Ta-Nahisi Coates started writing Captain America.”

“What happened to the store?”

She shrugged. “Amazon drove him out of business, I guess. That’ll be $9.25,” she said ringing up his tea and butter tarts. As Patrick put his debit card in the reader, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek. “My husband and I run a store in Schitt’s Creek. Rose Apothecary?”

“Holy shit, really? A friend gave me some of your lotion for my birthday. It’s great.”

Patrick swelled with pride. “Thanks. Anyway, we’re considering opening a second location in Elmdale.”

Taylor smirked, handing him his tea and a box with the tarts. “Sorry, I can’t allow you to have a store right next door to my coffee shop. I’ll spend all my profits there.”

Laughing, Patrick accepted his purchases. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to look for another place, then. Although David would return the favor, I’m sure.”

“What’s your name?” Taylor asked.

“It’s Patrick Brewer,” he said, setting the tea down again to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Taylor. And I hope you guys get the space.”

“I… do too,” he said, surprised to find that he meant it.

The store was bustling when he got back to Schitt’s Creek, and David and Bethany were both busy with customers. Patrick put the box of butter tarts in the back room and went to work restocking Christmas decorations. Given how many decorations they sold every holiday season, Patrick had to assume that by now every Christmas tree in Elm County was fully outfitted in David Rose’s aesthetic.

As soon as David finished with the customers he was helping, Patrick went over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something for your afternoon break,” he said. “There’s a white box on the table in the back.”

David’s eyes lit up, and he hurried into the back before he could be waylaid by another harried holiday shopper.

They didn’t have a chance to exchange any more conversation until Bethany finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up. Patrick felt dead on his feet, but he had to admit that the thought of all the money in the cash register made him feel pretty good. Bethany went to work cleaning the windows while David leaned against the center table.

“Oh my god, Patrick, where did you get those butter tarts? Those are the best ones I’ve had in years.”

Patrick walked over and put his arms around his husband, pulling him into a hug. “A little coffee shop in downtown Elmdale that happens to be next to an empty store that I believe Ray mentioned to you a couple of months ago.”

David pulled out of the hug, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Patrick’s expression. “It’s still vacant?”

Nodding, Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek. “We should call Ray after Christmas and go take a look at it.”

“Are you sure?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, I’m scared as hell. Among other things, I’m afraid I’m going to miss having days like this with you, working together in our store. But I want to go look.”

David kissed his lips gently. “Okay.”

~*~

Stevie stood shivering on their back porch, bundled up in her hat and puffy parka. “It’s way too cold for this,” she said.

Patrick exhaled pot smoke in a crystalline cloud of breath and handled the joint back to her. “Our families are getting here tomorrow and I don’t want the house to smell like weed.” He giggled. “It doesn’t match David’s holiday aesthetic.”

His phone chimed, and he took it out to look at it, expecting a complaint from David. Instead the text was from his cousin. There were no words, just a picture of Justin pressed cheek to cheek with another boy.

Patrick: Who’s this?

Justin 🌈: his name is Jonah

Patrick: Very cute. And closer to your age, I hope?

Justin 🌈: 🙄 you sound like my mom he’s 18

Patrick: Good. Merry Christmas, Justin.

Justin 🌈: thanks you too

Then a text arrived from David, just as Patrick expected. She’s got even more luggage than last year.

Patrick laughed. Maybe it’s a lot of presents for you, he texted back.

David: You give my sister entirely too much credit.

Patrick: See you soon.

“Why are you suddenly so fucking popular?” Stevie groused, her teeth chattering, handing him the joint back as he put away his phone.

“Sounds like Alexis’s flight got in on time,” he said. “And my cousin Justin has a new… boyfriend, I guess?” He took another hit.

“I can’t stand this anymore; I’m going inside,” Stevie said, taking the half-smoked joint from him and carefully extinguishing it, then putting it in a crumpled sandwich bag that she produced from her coat pocket. Patrick followed her back into the house. “Is this the cousin that you rescued a while ago?”

“How many gay cousins do you think I have?” he asked, pulling his coat off.

“I mean, statistically? Given how many cousins you have? More than one.” She flopped down on the sofa and stretched out on her back. “So are you liking your therapist any better?”

Patrick dropped into the overstuffed chair across from her. “I don’t know. As I predicted, she’s starting to fixate on my sexual orientation and…” He gestured airily in a very David way. “All that.”

Stevie turned her head and regarded him balefully. “The fact that you were in denial about being gay until you were thirty? And didn’t come out to your parents until you were ready to ask David to marry you? Is that what ‘all that’ is?”

“Fuck off,” Patrick grumbled.

“I’m just saying, there’s probably some stuff to unpack there.”

“Stevie, I’m completely comfortable with being gay,” he said.

“Didn’t say you weren’t. It’s not about you being gay, but maybe it’s about how you get so wrapped up in your obligations to other people that you lose track of yourself. Or that you’re so obsessed with not disappointing the people you care about that you have a hard time being truthful about who you are or what you need.”

Patrick blinked. “Wow. Maybe you should be my therapist.”

Stevie laughed. “The problem is, I need to be high to have these deep insights.”

They settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally Patrick admitted, “I don’t like the way it makes me feel cracked open.”

“What does?” Stevie asked, her mind clearly having wandered.

“Therapy.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I could deal with that either,” Stevie said.

“It’s like… you know how if you pick up a big rock in moist soil, there’ll be all these bugs underneath it?”

“Ew,” Stevie said in a perfect imitation of David, and the two of them burst into gales of laughter for a while. When Stevie finally got control of herself, she said, “Sorry, what about the bugs?”

He wiped away tears from his cheeks. “It was a metaphor for my brain. I’ve got a lifetime of practice not moving those rocks. I don’t know if I want to know what’s underneath them.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She stretched her toes out, brushing them against the arm of the sofa. “You know you’ll be okay though, right?”

Patrick felt a swell of love for Stevie and he would have hugged her, but it would probably be weird. Also he was comfortable in his chair. Maybe he’d hug her later.

When David arrived from retrieving Alexis at the airport, Patrick put his coat back on to help with the luggage. David opened a bottle of wine and turned the lamps in the living room off, leaving only the light from the Christmas tree to illuminate the four of them as they settled in to talk.

They told Alexis about the new location in Elmdale that they were considering leasing, and she made some marketing suggestions that were good enough that David went and retrieved his journal from the bedroom so that he could make some notes.

“One thing I’ve seen businesses do to get market penetration is sponsor relevant conferences,” Alexis said. “Like, professional association meetings. Then they get their business name and logo printed on everything for the conference — tote bags, lanyards, USB sticks, all that stuff.” Her free hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass flopped around to indicate all of the stuff.

“We don’t really have general store conferences,” Patrick said, bemused.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “But it works for other events too. Summer festivals, parades, whatever.”

“Elm Valley has a pumpkin festival every year,” Stevie said.

Patrick was starting to have a germ of an idea related to what Alexis had said. He sipped his wine and filed it away to mull over later, when he was sober.

Tomorrow, Johnny and Moira and his own parents would arrive and things would take a turn for the chaotic, but for right now, Patrick could enjoy the warmth of David’s hand on his shoulder as his husband bantered happily with his sister and his best friend. Leaning into the crook of David’s arm, Patrick smiled and tried to soak up all of the love in the room, an inoculation against the darkness that might lurk around the next bend in the road.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” David murmured against his spine later in their bed. Their kisses had been drowsy and a little bit drunk as they decided that sex was happening tonight in spite of their houseguests. Alexis was in the guest bedroom and Stevie had zonked out on the living room sofa, David tucking an afghan around her shoulders before he and Patrick went to bed themselves.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Patrick said with a chuckle, writhing, pressed against the sheets as David worked him up and up.

“I know it’s not technically Christmas, but tonight was so nice,” David murmured into Patrick’s shoulder, words alternating with kisses. “It filled me with holiday spirit.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was a losing battle. He made an attempt to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“If you say something about me filling you with the holiday spirit, it’s over between us.” The things he was doing to Patrick with his fingers belied that statement.

Laughing again, Patrick pushed his hips back against David’s hand, and then his laughter turned into a moan, and then neither of them said anything coherent for a long time.

~*~

The first town council meeting of the new year came on a grey January afternoon, the threat of snow on the horizon. Everyone was subdued and low energy, even Roland, and Patrick felt drowsy, struggling a little bit to pay attention and type at the same time that they discussed several budgetary issues. A lot of the topics were the same every meeting, with tiny, incremental changes almost too small to detect. Or worse, they were recurring issues that indicated no progress had been made at all.

When they got to the bottom of the agenda, Ronnie asked if there was any new business, and Patrick almost didn’t say anything. The idea that had occurred to him during the holidays had seemed strong on a happier day. Today, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to argue for it. But then he thought about the things Ronnie had said to him about queer activism, and he thought about Taylor and her coffee shop, and he opened his mouth.

“Have we ever considered having something in Schitt’s Creek for Pride?” he asked.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “What, like a parade?”

“No offense, but it might be kind of a sad little parade,” Roland said.

“No, not a parade. Like, a street festival. Tents with food and other vendors and LGBT educational booths. Opportunities for people to find out about meetings in the area. Maybe a stage with speeches and musical performances. And we don’t have to limit it to only Schitt’s Creek. I looked into it a little, and even Elmdale doesn’t have anything like it. We could draw vendors and patrons from all over Elm County.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “Sounds like a way to line your own pockets. I assume Rose Apothecary would be one of the vendors?”

Patrick met her gaze. “I’m sure the rest of council could be counted on to keep us on a level playing field with everyone else. Come on, Ronnie. Can you honestly say it wouldn’t be a good thing for the community? And a good way to bring money into the town?”

She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Put together a formal proposal and we can vote on it at the next meeting.”

“I’m going to vote ‘yes,’” Bob stage-whispered to Patrick.

“Thanks, Bob.”

After the meeting had adjourned, Patrick went over to Ronnie. “I thought later this month I’d go to that Thornbridge LGBTQIA+ meeting you told me about. See what they’re doing and make some connections. Ask if they’d be interested in helping out with our Pride festival.”

Ronnie stared at him for a second. “Your festival idea hasn’t been approved yet,” she said.

“Assuming it’s approved,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Would you like to go with me?”

“You want me to spend hours in a car with you, driving to Thornbridge. Really.”

“Come on, Ronnie. Someday you and I are going to have to bury the hatchet for good.” He put on his most guileless expression, the one that caused David to accuse him of weaponizing his eyes. “Why not in service to the queer community, of which we are both pillars?”

She almost, for a split second, looked like she was going to crack a smile. Instead she sighed. “Fine. Let me know when it is. I’ll see if I’m available.”

~*~

They celebrated signing the lease for the new store with pizza at David’s favorite spot in Elmdale. There were paper hearts colored by children in the front window, and it reminded Patrick that he only had a few days to find a suitably tacky gift for David for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get David to threaten to divorce him on this, David’s most hated of holidays.

While they waited for their pizza, Patrick reached across the red and white checkered tablecloth and took David’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

David had been fiddling with his phone, but at the sound of Patrick’s voice, he set it face-down on the table and gave Patrick his full attention. “What for?”

“For being there for me so many times this past year. For… for putting up with me at my worst.”

A crooked smile threatened to erupt on David’s face. “Patrick, you know your worst is still pretty good, right?”

“I hope you’re not still grading me on a Sebastien Raine curve, David.”

David rolled his eyes at that. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you don’t have the most objective perspective on what being married to you is like.” His eyes softened. “I’m as happy being your husband today as I was the first day. Okay?”

Patrick swallowed around a surprising lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“You’re nervous about the new store,” David surmised.

“I am, but it’s the right decision,” Patrick said with confidence.

“I’m nervous too,” David said. “Don’t mistake my outward confidence for anything other than a thin veneer over all of my anxieties.”

That statement automatically put Patrick into reassurance mode. “The marketing ideas from Alexis are going to be helpful. The customer base in Elmdale is huge and has more disposable income compared to what we’re used to at home. I’ve run some numbers, and I think the revenue from this location may outstrip our Schitt’s Creek location in a matter of months.”

David grimaced. “Well, that somehow makes me feel irrationally protective of our first store. It doesn’t deserve to be the under-achiever.”

Squeezing David’s hand, Patrick said, “Never. I fell in love with you there, and there’s nowhere in the world more important to me than that store.”

“We can make new memories at the new store,” David said softly.

Patrick knew, realistically, that he and David probably wouldn’t be spending that much time together at the new store after they got it open. They’d have to split time between the two locations, and there would be even more work to do out on the road, expanding their vendor base to support the increased demand.

David seemed to read his thoughts. “And when we spend our days apart, it will make being at home together in the evenings that much more precious.”

“Yeah,” Patrick managed to say, his voice raw. He averted his eyes from David’s piercing gaze, staring out the window between the gaps in the paper hearts. “Can you… can you talk to me more about that?”

David smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Well, imagine a day when I’m at the store here in Elmdale, and you’re at the store back at home.”

“Are you at the one in Elmdale because of Taylor’s pastries?”

“Shhh,” David said, reaching out with a finger like he was going to put it over Patrick’s lips. “I leave the store a little early, letting one of our trusted employees close up, and I bring home some wine and cheese from the store. Maybe some of Heather’s new triple cream.” He closed his eyes like he was having an erotic fantasy about Heather Warner’s cheese.

“Wine and cheese that you pay for,” Patrick said.

“Naturally. Oh, and fresh berries. It’s summer, and there are berries in season. So I set everything up on the kitchen table, just in time for you to arrive home from the other store. And we drink wine and eat cheese and we tell each other all about our days. The sun is setting, and the light is all golden,” David said.

“I like this story,” Patrick replied. “Then what happens?”

“Eventually we move to the sofa. Maybe watch some TV or listen to some music. We put our feet up and finish our wine and you remember something funny that you saw on the internet and you tell me about it. And then when we get tired, we go to bed.”

“What happens then?” Patrick asked as their server set their pizza in front of them and David grabbed a slice.

David’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile and he waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the story is very interesting, but you’ll have to wait to get home to hear that part.”

“Hmm, okay.” Patrick reached for his own slice of pizza.

“Hey,” David said, drawing Patrick back to looking at him. “I love you. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings for us.”

Patrick smiled. He felt bolstered, lifted up by David’s support and for once, he allowed himself to feel good about it. “Me either, David.”

[kaitycole]

Broken Wooden Fence Posts

Summary: Drake starts working on Jackson Walker’s ranch, but will that get him any closer to the truth?

Word Count: 1410

Pairing: Drake x Riley, Jackson x ???

Warnings: Angst, betrayal, and heartache

Part 4 of WP. To catch up read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @glaimtruelovealways​ @bobasheebaby​ @bascmve01​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @the-everlasting-dream​ @ao719​ @burnsoslow​ @sirbeepsalot​ @janezillow​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @kimmiedoo5​ @choices97​

“Howdy! What can I do for you?”

“Oh uhm…” he stammers over his words, “work.”

The older man looks at Drake like he’s crazy or on something, “you’re here for your work?”

Drake shakes his head, “No, uhm, I heard you’re looking for workers. I worked on a ranch as a kid.”

“Really?” The man’s reaction should be surprised, but to Drake’s surprise, he doesn’t seem that surprised.

“Yes, in Texas. My parents owned it.”

“It’s just me and Luke these days, so I could always use a skilled hand.” Jackson says.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Well c’mon, let me give you a tour,” Jackson waves for Drake to follow him, “Ahh…what’d you say your name was again?”

“Drake.” He pauses, “Drake Walker.”

*                      *

Jackson runs his fingers through his greying hair, “Common last name, eh?”

Almost mirroring the man’s action subconsciously, Drake simply replies, “Guess so.”

The both of them walk throughout the ranch, Jackson showing Drake around and telling him about the various tasks that he really needs help with.

“Most of the fencing needs redone and I’d like to fix up that old barn.”

Drake nods, half paying attention, half analyzing the man in front of him. Partially praying that he’s right and this is his dad, but also hoping maybe Riley and his mother are right.          

“Any questions?”

Before Drake can answer, the blonde-haired boy he saw before comes running over to them.

“Dad, can I-“ He starts but Jackson stops him.

“We have company, it’s rude to not introduce yourself.”

Luke straightens his shoulders before extending his hand, “I’m Luke Walker. What’s your name?”

“I’m Drake Walker,  nice to meet you.” I swear he looks so familiar.

“Now, dad, can I go over to Hank’s house?”

“Be back before it’s time to put the cattle up.”

“Thanks dad!” Drake watches Luke wraps his dad in a hug, feeling a pain in his chest from all the years he’s missed with his dad. But part of the pain left when he remembered he’d be having a child that would have him around.

“You have any kids, Drake?”

“No, not yet, sir.”

“They’re a handful for sure.” Jackson looks away, almost as if he’s in deep thought, “Let’s head in and take schedule and pay.”

*                      *

It’s been about a week since Drake has started helping out on Jackson’s ranch. He doesn’t mind the early morning rises, in fact he actually missed it when in Cordonia. It’s late by the time he gets home, he stayed a little longer today to help put up the supplies that Jackson had ordered and decided to get a drink at the bar.

When he finally gets home, Riley is curled up on the couch engrossed in some show on a streaming site.

“Hey you,” he leans over the back of the couch, kissing her cheek.

“Hey. I just ordered take-out since I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.” Riley hasn’t asked Drake where he goes all day. He said something about helping out at a feed shop in town, she was thankful for that. She just really wanted him to be able to find something to take his mind off this Jackson stranger.

“How’s our little one?” He sits down next to her, rubbing his hand gently over her barely showing stomach.

“Happy or at least I’m hoping that’s why I wasn’t as sick today,” she jokes.

“I have a few off days coming up, I’ll put in the flooring and start painting,” he looks at her, “that is if you’ve narrowed down a color.”

“I just think first impressions are key.”

Drake shakes his head before heading into the bathroom to shower. He wants to tell Riley where he’s actually been, but the last time he mentioned the subject, she shut him down. All she kept saying was if it was him, he should’ve reached out by now, but what if he couldn’t? What if he didn’t think Drake would want him to? There are just too many factors to consider and he wanted to investigate as many as he could before he even approached the subject with Jackson or even Riley.

A few more weeks have passed and Drake is still being untruthful to his wife and Jackson.

“You really are a hard worker,” Jackson says, “I figured it’d take twice this long to fix the fencing.”

“Just helping out however I can.”

“And you do a damn good job at it.”

Both men are sitting on the porch, taking a break. They’re bonding over some glasses of sweet tea when Luke comes up the dirt pathway, clothes a mess.

“What happened?” Jackson instantly stands up, concern covering his face.

“Grant started picking on Hank so I stood up for him and he said that Ma didn’t love me which is why she gave me Rys as a middle name. Said it was stupid, so we fought.”

And then it hit Drake, like a ton of bricks, he knew exactly who Luke looked like; Liam. Luke was practically Liam’s twin. He couldn’t process how it took him this long to figure it out.

Almost instantly, Jackson saw the wheels turning in Drake’s head and rushed Luke inside, knowing it was only a matter of minutes before Drake confronted him.

“Jackson, we need to talk.” He doesn’t give Jackson anytime to reply, “You’re my father. Luke’s middle name is Rys because you had an affair with Eleanor, didn’t you?”

“Now listen here, I don’t know what you came here hoping to get. But Luke is the only son I have.”

Drake shakes his head, “No, I didn’t come here for anything but answers.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t have any for you. No answers or anything.”

Drake’s face drops, this is all too much of coincidence. He knows it and he can’t stand that his man in front of him could lie.

“I think it’s best that you leave now.” Jackson doesn’t wait for Drake to respond before he walks into the house, shutting the door on Drake.

*                      *

It’s been two weeks since his blow up with Jackson. He feels as if nothing makes sense anymore, how could he have gotten it all wrong? But he doesn’t truly think he has.

Riley walks in the house after shopping for nursery supplies to see Drake once again sulking on the couch. An empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside him. She has no clue what happened other than one day he came home fussing about things not working out and then he shut her out.

“Drake, honey,” she calls from the kitchen, “I was thinking of fixing burgers tonight.”

A barely audible groan comes from the couch before she sighs. She’s tried everything to bring him out of this slump; his favorite foods, trying to get him to talk, hell, she’d even tried sex, none working.

After dinner, Drake once again passes out on the couch and she slips into their bedroom. Riley hates what she’s about to do, but her husband has left her no choice. She begins to rummage through his things. Flipping through his journals in his nightstand to his top sock drawer. Finally, she picks up his wallet, opening it she just sees the standard: a small amount of cash, his debit and credit cards, a picture of them before she sees a small piece of notebook paper.

The paper is carefully wedged behind their photo, on it a number and address. Her heart stops.

*                      *

Riley pulls up to the address that she found in Drake’s wallet, it wasn’t something she thought she’d ever have to do when choosing Drake, but here she was. Walking up to the door, she knocks three times then steps back. Not really knowing what to expect.

An older version of Drake walks to the door, she has to catch her breath, part of her honestly thought this was just something that Drake had imagined.

“Can I help you, darlin’?”

“Jackson Walker?”

The man looks confused, “Yes?”

“I found this address in my husband Drake’s wallet and we need to have a talk.”

“Listen, I’ll tell you what I told him, I’m not who he thinks I am.” He goes to shut the door, but Riley’s foot stops it.

“No, you listen. My husband has lived almost twenty years thinking the one person he looked up to had died. You owe him an explanation.”

[segenassefa]

2: On Consumerism, Fighting Demons, and Societies Inevitable Collapse

Quarantine has been lowkey surreal. My constant complaint of never having enough time to do all the things I want/should be doing has now left me bored in the house, bored in the house, bored with nothing but time to get said things done. However, it is a dual edged sword - with the collapse and subsequent reformation of civil society outside my doors, it leaves me wondering – as well as a lot of other people – in the words of Miss Juicy…what the hell we gone do now?

Nearing the end of the first leg of my university career, I should be thinking about getting ready to transition to the next logical stages of adulthood - saving for an apartment, applying for permanent residency, as well as graduate schools and part time jobs. Yet, I’m worried about if these things will even be a possibility within the next month, six months, or even the next year.

On top of ALL of that, the recent BLM protests and the way that people (read: white people, Latinxs, Black men, homo/transphobes, etc.) have shown their asses the past few months is beyond mortifying - especially regarding the treatment of black women and how our value as individuals as well as a collective to society is really perceived.* This is not to downplay the murder of numerous black men in society, BUT who the fuck is riding for black women aside from other black women? And not just the ones who find attractive, or are racially ambiguous, or the ones you feel as if you get “guilted” into supporting and demanding justice for, I mean each and every black woman. I’m just saying, it gets pretty disheartening to feel like the legwork of the revolution is on the back of one category of people, and that your value to society is measured by the amount of emotional labour you’re ready to do for others, or how fat your ass is (but I digress…).

I feel like most people have used material things as coping mechanisms instead of actually facing their feelings and dealing with the things that bother them. Just think of the number of packages that have arrived on your doorstep the past few months. Breaking the glossy seal of packing tape is similar to therapy, until all the boxes are open, and you start feeling like shit again. And now, more than ever, there’s a lot to be bothered about. Western society has dedicated phrases based on the phenomenon of substituting true self-work with figurative emotional bandages (Phrases like comfort eating and retail therapy come to mind).

It’s nice to think that we – the people entering their adolescent and young adult years – will be the one to change these things, but suddenly it’s 2 am, you have twenty different things in your Amazon cart, (who the fuck needs a metal straw cleaning kit?) and you’re trying to see how far you can stretch and grab your debit card before falling off of the bed.

The conflicting messages pushed by society don’t help all that much either. If you look up “Kondo method” or “decluttering my closet” on YouTube, the numbers of videos that come up is astounding. Pages and pages of sweaty-faced, smiling YouTubers monetizing from this kind of faux “minimalism” only to post haul videos a few days later because “I threw everything out and now I have to rebuild from scratch sksksk!”. Does this not just perpetuate a cycle of buying and throwing and buying? I am....confusion, to say the least. Still I watch them, because I’m a hypocrite, and am also easily amused.

I will be the first to admit I have always had a very unhealthy relationship with money, with self-image, and with measuring my self-worth in proximity with “stuff that stems from a complicated relationship with physical self. Follow along:

Growing up, I was a fat kid. We don’t even have to sugar coat it. Think Terrio, but better eyebrows and more hair. Except I was not killin’ em, just myself. I always envied my friends who were able to go shopping at regular stores – read: Hollister, Abercrombie, Urban Outfitters (yes my friends were white), meanwhile I was condemned to shopping in the women’s department.

So, to compensate, I would buy trinkets – things like nail polish, lip gloss, journals, you get the point. My proximity to worthiness was measured not by the things that I bought, but within the act of buying. Growing up with parents who were also financially frugal also altered my relationship with money and blessed me with crippling buyers’ remorse after every purchase, even on things that are important (read: groceries).  

But as a kid, buying “stuff” was fun for me – it gave me some sort of purpose, and the acquisition of things (even if they weren’t the same things my peers had) made me feel like, to some extent, I could compete on the same playing field. As I got older, and I started to have real expenses, I moved towards second-hand shopping. I would religiously find myself at Goodwill on weekend, after school, or with friends. I could literally feel an endorphin rush when I would find something that I would consider a “good deal”, and it made me feel (again) purposeful, to be spending money, even if I didn’t need whatever I was buying.

I should also add that the people in my immediate family does not believe in thrift stores (“Why am I working for you to wear other people’s clothing?”, I remember my dad asking me one day), so the act of second-hand shopping was also my form of rebellion.

I began to amass a collection of clothing that would put Kylie’s closet to shame. I began buying things for events and situations that were yet to happen, for other people, for when I lose ten pounds. It was a madness.

In freshman year of university, I had an unhealthy relationship with clubbing clothes. Did I have the figure for clubbing clothes? Absolutely not. The funnier part is, I couldn’t even go clubbing because I wasn’t 19 at the time. And yet I had drawers and drawers full of the stuff. Not to mention that clubbing clothes is incredibly similar to summer clothing and living between Minnesota and Canada meant that these things were barely seeing the light of day.

The moral of this was – I could never figure out my relationship with stuff, This quarantine has forced me to try and break down the compulsion behind my behaviour.  I felt like I was spiralling the six weeks that they closed thrift stores, and I knew myself well enough to not try and online shop with the same kind of frequency as that. But the crazy part was, I didn’t die. I didn’t go into withdrawal (ok, I did a little bit, but whatever), and I was able to take the time to go through the things I already owned and find some hidden gems that were routinely buried in the cracks and crevices of my closet. It was like the episode of Family Guy when Peter realizes he has a vestigial twin – alarming and cool at first, but then it’s just alarming and annoying.

Its more embarrassing to realize that some semblance of myself image is tied to the frequency with which I am able to spend money. I would never say that participating in capitalist society gives me some kind of purpose as a black woman because God forbid. Also, considering that a lot of big names companies are actually racist and fatphobic as hell creates a whole new dimension for analyzing the power of my black dollar, sometimes creating another spiral of guilt leading to you guessed it – more spending.

As much as it seems like it, however, this self-reflection was not in vain. In the past month, I’ve cut down my closet from +200 pieces of clothing and shoes to about 40. If you ever want a fun, humbling activity this quarantine, just clean out your closet and be honest with yourself about how often you wear certain things. It was revolting to see the number of shirts, dresses, pants, skirts that I had bought and convinced myself wholeheartedly I was going to wear, only to pull them out of my closet months later with the tags attached *insert Marge Simpson covering her face meme*.

But at the end of the whole ordeal, it felt really good to look at my space and not feel burden or guilt. It was somewhat philanthropic realizing that not only will these clothes make someone else happier (I donated pretty much everything because it’s not always about money), but that my quality of life was not dramatically impacted in owning (or not owning) certain things. The past few weeks, I’ve spent more money on going out and sharing experiences with friends, but still nowhere near the same amount of money I would have spent buying clothes and other material possession.

Youtuber Kelly Stamps has a video on how minimalism “cured” her depression**, and the whole thesis boils down to the idea that owning less things gives you less to compare yourself too, thus making you happier (in a sense) and allowing you to focus the energy and time that would have been centered around maintaining and building your collection of possessions other things.

This still doesn’t break down the root of the issue, but it’s a start. I think when you have traits or patterns that you’ve participated in for so long, it becomes hard to step back and be objective enough to realize that you – yes, you – are part of the problem. I can blame my habits on a lot of things but at the end of the day, it’s important to realize that certain cycles seem never-ending because I actively choose to participate in these kinds of behaviours (accountability is sexy, huh?). While I’m not ready to face all my demons quite yet, it’s easier to do it with a nice wardrobe and a streamlined sense of mind.

Notes

*When I say black women, I mean ALL black women. Not some limited, cis-gendered, heteronormative view of what a woman is. Over here we ride for all those who identify as women.

**She emphasizes that she doesn’t actually means that it cured anything, but rather helped with her anxiety, and in turn, helped with her depression.

Links

That Family Guy Episode

The Kelly Stamps video

[dukeofriven]

Good In The World

I meant what I said with that extended LOTR quote being what the Epilogues are about - about there being good in the world, and it being worth fighting for. Given that I’ve been up to my neck reading Hussie commentary lately I feel like I’ve gotten a pretty strong grasp on what makes him tick - and who boy does this guy love stories about friendship, teamwork, and love, loves them so much he sometimes sounds like Téa Gardner about to lay down a friendship speech on Yu-Gi-Oh. So - while noting that the extent to which the epilogues are and are not Hussie’s work are even more muddled that usual in regards Homestuck - the take-away is this: everything went wrong, in both Meat and Candy, because everyone forgot that - that friendship, teamwork, and love is the only reason any of them survived. The Sburb survivors came to Earth-C as literal gods, beings of inordinate celebrity and power, and then didn’t work as hard as they should have to still be friends and family. We point to John as some kind of recluse but it quickly becomes clear that everyone stopped working at staying together. Karkat and Dave are as much shut-ins as John, stewing together in their own incapacity. Katkat’s self-loathing, so often a hilarious joke in Homestuck is - free of the immediate pressures of Sburb - shown to be intensely debilitating. It undermines him repeatedly in Meat, and requires incipit genocide in Candy to be set aside, costing him everything that mattered on a personal level. Dave made the mistake of many in his position before him, leaning too much on the first epiphany about trauma and not taking the care to continue down the path to further healing and reconciliation with the past. It leaves him desperately reaching for intimacies he too scared of to actually experience. Coupled with an abused kid’s terror of perpetuating harm he lies to Karkat and Jade both time and time again to try and save their feelings. Jade, so utterly fucked up by years of isolation and loneliness, and so endearingly, crushingly full of love makes all the wrong decisions in trying to build a triad (that is - the triad could have worked, but she went about it all wrong) and makes two separate instantiations of Dave and Karkat miserable. Rose and Kanaya have no malice in their actions, but they do what married people always do: pull away from everyone else, and focus on themselves and their new lives. Harmless, normally - or, at least, not seriously harmful - but those lives took them underground and away from everyone else, The two most insightful and level-headed members of the party simply weren’t around when everyone needed them most. Unaware how bad things were getting they missed so many of the warning sides that would have clued them in earlier that everyone was going off the rails - and being as isolated as she was in Meat this left Rose vulnerable to the manipulation most likely to succeed: just like with Doc Scratch she was preyed upon by someone who could flatter her sense of grievance, knowledge, and uniqueness. Terezi wouldn’t have stood by and let things go to shit - but she was doomed the moment she tied her heart to ego personified, and so was absent too.  As for the Alphas, well - their problems were never resolved in the first place, their 'conflict arcs’ interrupted by the arrival of the betas. Only Roxy, element of void, utterly self-contained, a refugee from a dead reality, walked onto Earth-C able to withstand the horror that awaited them: celebrity. Skaia is benevolent, but it is not wise: Sburb seems to have a cherub’s worldview, full of bright colours and heightened stories, but not much maturity. When the victors of Sburb escaped to Earth-C the last thing they needed was celebrity, praise, and positions of note. The issues are all laid out in the prologue: John retired before he ever started working, every one of them richer than any mortal could conceive of. These kids didn’t need parades, they needed to go school. Jane didn’t need honorary degrees from every business school on the planet, Jake didn’t need a TV show centred entirely around his ass: what everyone needed was to be aggressively ordinary. Mundane and unregarded. They needed to put everyone in a group home with four on-staff counselors and take a chunk of years doing nothing but heal. Because everyone was damaged. Other than Calliope - a special case - everybody walked out of Sburb having witnessed at least one apocalypse. Put aside any of the individual traumas and deaths and abuses and sins and just focus on that alone: the death of entire worlds and the burden of saving seven sentient species. Rather than the ultimate Reward being a sit-down with kindly professionals who could help a bunch of kids cope with that, these literal children entered a new world and built new lives on a foundation of dust. The beta kids never finished seventh grade. Jane Crocker never finished high school. Jade Harley, Jake English, Roxy Lalonde, and Dirk Strider never went to school at all. Not one of those four had ever been around more than four humans in their lives until the day they won the game. They couldn’t have. Jade and Jake grew up alone on islands. Roxy and Dirk grew up in the apocalypse. Dirk grew up in a literal box. As Cascade hit Dave and John were the only living humans Jade had ever met who wasn’t her grandpa: and she spent three years alone on a ship with only the Nannasprites and consorts for company. (And Jaspers to chase.) For those four especially, think about they went through within 24-hours: BAM here’s a group of people including your alt-relatives and literal aliens BAM here’s a crazy fucking battle against technicolour chess people, killer dogs, and fish queens BAM here’s a pristine new-ish world better BAM produce thousands of species to populate a new world /TABLE SCRATCH/ Welcome to Earth-C in the year 5000 Celebrity Gods. Here’s your debit cards full of riches. Seriously - this all happens in about a day. And yet people are shocked that things didn’t work out? They were sixteen years old. Four of them had no formal education of any kind, nor had ever been around enough to people to form a softball team. And that’s not even starting on the trolls, who had multiple culture-shocks and traumas of their own the sort through. And yet people are shocked that things didn’t work out? There is, absolutely, a way all of this could have been addressed and become a happy ending. If you don’t like the Epilogues because you’re just sick and fucking tired of tragedy stories - boy do I feel you. Man, don’t get me started on shit like Westword we will be here all week. If you just wanted there to be a fucking happy ending because god-damnit people deserve to be happy - I feel that too. Had that been what we got I can’t say that I’d have been displeased. But if you’re angry because what happened in the Epilogues seems “unreasonable”  all I can do is wave my arms at all the shit everybody went through and ask you why going from that to retired celebrity godhood was good for anyone. What happened on Earth-C was nobody’s fault - not even Dirk’s. Of course he lost it. Of course he took his godhood to its logical conclusions - what possible grounding in real human beings had he ever seriously had, and what in his life was there to make him see people as people? Dude grew up alone in a box with SBAHJ and rapping robots for company - the only voice in his head his own, magnified in the echo chamber of ego and his own blindness to his inadequacies.  Why wouldn’t Jane cling to status quo of her dead world? Really, what did Sburb ever bring her but heartbreak, an excessively baroque Bad Relationship Simulator that took away her home and her position as a corporate heiress for a six month romp through a bunch of dead planets and inter-friend squabbling (We don’t talk about how fucking boring the alpha session was: nothing but undead and emptiness.) She reaches a new world, gets told how smart she is, gets a bunch of degrees - but as Dave himself notes, when you’re rich as can be and have everyone on the planet lining up to do business with you, it’s pretty easy to think you’re actually skilled at running things, especially if YOU STOPPED YOUR EDUCATION AT SIXTEEN AND GOT TOLD THAT YOUR SIXTEEN YEAR OLD SELF WAS THE APEX OF YOUR BEING. Take a moment to remember yourself at sixteen. Try to put sixteen year old you in charge of something meaningfully important - like, mmh, let’s say a regional bank. Uh - oh. Oh dear. Oh it’s on fire, is it? And the fire is spreading? Yeah, that’ll happen. [One glaring issue I’ll note in these epilogues is that nobody knows what the fuck to do about Dad Crocker, so they do... nothing, until Candy reminds you he exists in order to kill him to motivate Jane to do something she probably could have been easily prompted to do anyways by another means. I guess Dad Crocker just... happily let Jane not finish school or exert any kind of parental control at all after that point? On her or anybody else? You want to talk about OOC: what the fuck happened with Dad Crocker, of whom I expected better? And where did Tavrosprite and the Nannasprites go?] My point in all this is that Homestuck is a story about how important love, teamwork, and friendship is, and after the Earth-C victory everybody got lost. Everybody reacted to being Celebrity Gods in their own way, and it created little cracks that widened over time, and when everyone should have been coming closer together - group therapy sessions, even - they got further and farther apart. These emotionally-stunted mentally-teenaged kids with buckets of trauma, the power of gods, and the celebrity to match broke. One by one. All in their own unique ways. The Epilogues are in some sense a musing on the absurdity of adulthood - how its mantel is placed upon you regardless of whether you are ready or not, for reasons as arbitrary as ‘turning a certain age’ or ‘winning a video game.’ In some cases it takes our heroes DECADES of life before adulthood - before real maturity - begins to make something of an appearance, and even then it’s a crapshoot. Love, friendship, and teamwork are what matter in Homestuck: in the epilogues it takes years of monumentally boneheaded decisions for our heroes to remember this, and some of them never do.

Is there still a happy ending at the end of Homestuck? One that lies ahead? I think so. Hussies loves his characters dearly - and yes, he does. Of course he does. He didn’t spend ten years of his life telling the story of one dimensional Brechtian Archetypes to make some otiose point about the nature of narrative: if he had none of you would be feeling as you are now.  The difference between you and Andrew Hussie is that you see his characters like family: you leap to their defence whenever they are hurt, and when they are cut you bleed: “How?” you ask, “Could anyone be so cruel to do this thing?” But Hussie sees his characters as characters, in a story of which he is author, and in which pain and hurt and tragedy can be the vehicles through which good stories can be told: that the light is made all the brighter because of the quantity and quality of darkness that was banished. Candy and Meat are the story of a boy who can only destroy love because he thinks he understands it, and lashes-out when things don’t go as planned. Dirk is just as much the villain in Candy as in Meat, as Calliope makes very clear: the Candyverse is in some sense defined, or at least made more distinct, by his absence. He is a tragic figure on the macro scale - if only he and all the walking wounded of Sburb had been given help when they needed it - but his death in Candy is not a tragedy of ‘what ifs,’ it’s an act of petulance and cruelty by a kid who’ll take his ball and go home if he’s not allowed to play the winning game. His death destabilizes the Candyverse far more than John’s choice to stay, its just that its corrosive effects take longer to be obvious - and the gears he’d already set in motion didn’t cease to turn, though they may have slowed. Dirk destroys love, his effect on both timelines is to push people apart because division suits him, and to push his own view of what ‘love’ is on people who experience it far more expansively than he could ever imagine. He’s a sad little boy who grew up in alone in a box and entered a world that told him he was a literal god with the powers to match - by the end of Meat it’s clear that love, friendship, and teamwork mean nothing to him, only the perfect order of his own fevered imagination. What will bring him down in the end is the reclamation of that feeling at the end of Act 7 - the joy of victory, of having worked together, of the love of family both found and familial, and of the realization that they were none of them better apart. And then some therapists. Some actual therapists. For a good long time. (Also I hope that they find Doc Scratch and beat his sorry ass from here to eternity because that smug fuck has his puppety fingertips all over this thing, and if Dirk really is merging with his ultimate self that includes (as @geekycalligrapher noted) aspects that wound up in Lord English, including a not insignificant portion of one Doctor Vanilla Milkshake, Esq.) (Edit: I did, in fact, do a few edits when I noticed the opening sentences were missing things like ‘the subject.’)

[plumblossomkun]

Spirit

word count: 2232

synopsis: in which you can’t find a costume for a Halloweekend party, and the cute employee at Spirit Halloween, Wong Yukhei, is all too glad to help you.

warning[s]: flirting, mentions of alcohol, a single profanity, and a kiss.

a/n: another cute one! i was sitting in my cog. psych class this morning writing little notes on what i wanted to write for this fic and i think my professor saw me getting a little excited over it because she gave me a ? look and i was like dfghjkl i need to not think about fanfic during my one class on MWF

Every year, come late autumn, the mall pitches a large tent in the parking lot and fill it with all sorts of cobwebs and costumes. Atop it all, the grim reaper logo flies on a pumpkin orange banner bearing the name of the store, Spirit Halloween, and its catchphase, So much fun it’s scary!

“Y/n, are you ready to find yourself a costume for this Halloweekend?” Mina asks, gripping your elbow. “I can’t believe you’re actually coming along to the party this year.”

“I can’t believe my dad’s letting me,” you sigh as she drags you through the open door. Immediately your nose is flooded with the strange, zesty smell of dry ice as white smoke pools around your feet, and you cough.

A honey-haired, tall boy looks over from the cash register to your left. He waves at the two of you, with the brightest, most honest smile you’ve ever seen. “Welcome to Spirit!”

“Hello,” you reply, dipping your head in greeting.

“He’s cute,” Mina murmurs, eyes flicking from top to bottom as she appraises him. “Too bad I have a boyfriend.”

You snort. “You say that every time we come across someone remotely attractive, like you’re not whipped for Kazumi.”

“I can appreciate handsome boys.” She rolls her eyes, then gasps, spotting something at the other end of the store, pointing excitedly. “Y/n, look, there’s couple costumes! Should I force Kazu to wear one with me?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Oh my god. I think I see a honey and bee set! Meet me at the register in 30?”

“Got it. I’ll go… look for a costume.”

“Text me if you find anything exciting!”

Half-heartedly, you examine a simple witch costume, one with a long, flowing black skirt and a pointed felt hat. You’ve been a witch before, more than twice, at least, and you don’t mind the low cut neckline if it means you’re not going to spend another day looking in vain for another costume that won’t have your father up in arms.

“Finding everything okay?”

You glance at the speaker; it’s the cute boy from the register grinning down at you. He towers over you a little, and he notices when you flinch at his presence and takes an amiable step backwards, chuckling.

“I think I’m good,” is your automatic response, staring down at the plastic bag containing the witch costume. 

Meekly, you add, “...If I change my mind, I’ll come find you.”

“Of course. Anything you need, you come to me, doll.” He grins, giggling a little at his own audacity, and then heads off to talk to a couple of girls in the next aisle poring over little devilish pieces and pairing lipsticks with their outfits.

Mina holds up the witch costume next to you, screwing up her nose in focus. “I don’t know, girl. I know you don’t wanna look too slutty, but you know, it’s Halloweekend. Go crazy. Go stupid.”

“I know, I know.” You take the costume back from her, and place it back on the hooks. “I just, I don’t know. I haven’t felt super excited about Halloween in a while.”

“That’s okay~” she reassures you, patting your cheeks. “Take your time, you still have one more day!”

“Yeah…” you sigh. “Did you find what you wanted, at least?”

She lights up immediately, and holds up an Adult Avocado and Toast couples’ costume. “He’s going to hate this so much, but what do you think?”

“It’s very… Californian of you.”

She laughs. “That settles it. I’m getting it. Are you going to buy any makeup or anything?”

“No, I asked Lisa to do my makeup.” As you talk, the two of you navigate through the aisles towards the cash registers at the front. “That’s another reason I want to find a costume fast; she told me it would be nice if I told her as soon as possible so she could come up with a look.”

“Hello!” the cashier greets you. “Did any employees help you today?”

“Ah, yes,” Mina taps her lip with her debit card. “I think his name was Yukhei.”

The cashier smiles fondly at the name as she rings up the purchase. “That’ll be 49.99.”

Mina swipes her card, and turns to you as the transaction loads. “Are you gonna come back tomorrow?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“Other than skipping the party? None.”

The next day you show up at Spirit alone. You’d tried to get Lisa to come with you, but she'd had refused in favor of studying for the Physics midterm, and Mina’s shift was going to run long past Spirit’s closing time of 9pm.

You hold your breath when you pass through the fumes of the fog machine this time, striding through it so quickly you miss a certain someone waving at you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he calls after you, his voice reeling you back. “Why in such a rush?”

Biting your lip, you backtrack to the register. “There’s a party this weekend…”

“And you’re in desperate need of a costume,” he finishes, eyes gleaming. “Well, you’ve come to the right guy.”

He offers you his hand to shake and introduces himself. “Wong Yukhei. You can call me Yukhei, or Lucas, my English name.”

You take his hand and shake. His palm is warm and callused against yours. “Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, what are you in the market for?” he asks, rounding the register to walk side by side with you down the aisle of trick or treat bowls, the ones that have little gimmicky skulls and bony hands that react whenever you reach into them. “Cute? Sexy? Spooky?”

“I don’t know,” you say, picking up a Scream mask attached to a pump meant to push a red liquid faintly resembling blood into its plastic chamber and turning it over in your hands just to do something with them as you approach the Adult Costumes section in the back. “There’s a party this weekend, and I don’t know what I want to be.”

“What costumes have you worn before?”

“I’ve been a black cat and witch more times than I can count. I was a fairy when I was a kid, once.” You replace the mask on a shelf with similar pieces.

He laughs. “Those aren’t bad. I’m sure you looked great.”

“Yeah, but they’re safe choices.” 

Yukhei reaches up to grab a costume from the top row of hooks, but pauses before he grabs it, looking you square in the eye to say, “Nothing wrong with safe, doll.”

He says that, but with the smell of cedar and vanilla radiating from him as he leans down to hand it to you, you think, maybe safe is a little too boring for you. 

Lisa gently pulls the hair back from your face and draws it into a loose plait. “You found a costume, huh?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers twitch as you remember how you’d taken it home and torn the plastic bag apart to really try it on for the first time, and looked in the mirror. You’d spun and marveled at yourself until you grew dizzy, and then you’d laid on your bed and laughed.

“And what else did you find?” she prods, pinching your cheek. “Cuz I heard from Mina…”

You roll your eyes. “What did she tell you?”

She pats primer on your face, and you wince at the feel of the cold cream. “That you had goo-goo eyes for a tall and tan hottie.”

“I did not!”

She snickers as she looks through her foundations to match your skin color. “Did you get his number?”

“Why would I ask for that? He was just helping me out. You know, like a normal retail employee would.” “Well, sweetie, when two people are physically attracted to each other, it’s only natural that they want to get to know each other in a more intimate way. Whether you want to hold his hand or hop on that dick, I’m not judging.”

You splutter. “I’m not going to do that!”

“Alright, alright,” she relents, spinning a brush between her fingers with a giggle, “but if anything happens, I wanna hear all the details.”

At ten past nine, you show up to the party with Mina on your right. Kazumi trails behind the two of you, tugging at the green felt avocado costume on his frame and grumbling. 

The house belongs to one of Kazumi’s friends, whose parents are gone for the weekend on a business trip. It’s a lovely little villa in the midst of nowhere, with a chic, modern inside, and a wooden deck complete with a firepit, where most of the invitees sit, soaking up the autumn breeze and firelight.

“We’re going to go get some drinks,” Mina announces, turning to take her boyfriend’s hand. She looks you up and down with a grin. “Go get em, tigress.”

“You’re ditching me already?” You cling to her sleeve; while you love your costume, you don’t love the idea of walking around the party by yourself no matter what you’re wearing.

“No, I’m letting you free. Find a corner and wait for the boys to come to you, darling.” She blows you a kiss and plucks your fingers from her costume to head into the kitchen. “You’ve always been beautiful. Now unleash your inner hoe.”

The jungle juice is way too strong for you.

Still, you take sips from your half-filled cup every now and then to keep your hands from shielding your body, letting the sharp heat of the liquid sear the hesitation from your fingertips. The tight black lycra material of the SWAT catsuit on your body makes you feel like you’re exposed, every curve, every bump, every out-of-place spot on your body on display for everyone to see. 

The firelight doesn’t quite reach you in this corner, though, on the cushioned wooden bench just to the right of the screen doors, so you’re not all that worried.

The polished wood of the deck creaks as a tall silhouette approaches you, and you curl your legs under your body to let them squeeze past you and the group of frat boys cheering loudly for their friend chugging the contents of a vodka bottle.

But the person sits by you instead. 

“I thought I recognized you,” a familiar voice purrs. “What are the odds, though?”

You meet Yukhei’s glittering chocolate eyes with a gasp. In a leather jacket, distressed blue jeans and a pair of aviators clipped onto his shirt, and with his hair slicked back over his forehead, even in the faint light, he looks more attractive than he has any right to be. 

“Greaser?” is all you can manage to say.

“Guilty as charged.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, touching the rings in his earlobes when he says, “You look good.”

“Thanks.” Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with with the plastic cuffs on the belt hanging low on your hips. It feels strange to be talking to him as a person and not as a customer, though his easy, goofy grin is still the same. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Yukhei laughs, fiddling with the dozen rings on his fingers. “You should have a little more confidence, babe.”

You choke on your punch. Doll had been a safe nickname, but babe? “I’m… what?”

He shakes his head, gesturing to all of you. “Come on. You don’t think you look good?”

When you open your mouth, ready to deflect his compliment, he covers your mouth with a hand. In the firelight, the edges of his face are outlined in amber and carnelian, and heat floods your cheeks when you notice that he’s not smiling, for once, and instead looks entirely serious when he tells you, “You’re beautiful.”

He sits back, taking his hand from your skin as if the brief moment of contact has burned him. He turns his head towards the firepit, and you can see that he’s scrunching his face up awkwardly, cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

He scoots closer to you, so close that your legs touch from knee to hip. “Sorry, I don’t want to invade your personal space, but I really can’t hear you.”

“No, it’s okay.” It really isn’t; his sweet, woody cologne envelops you, washing over you like the heat of the fire, and you unconsciously lean into him, cheek brushing his shoulder as you repeat your thanks. 

Yukhei chuckles, and you take a deep swig of your drink in the hopes that it’ll keep you from drowning in his smile.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. And eventually, you give in and rest your head on his shoulder, watching the embers dance in the firepit and the rowdy group of boys begin to wind down for the night, sitting on the edge of the deck and pointing up drunkenly at the constellations in the sky.

It’s a little uncomfortable, resting on his collarbone, but when his arm sneaks around to wrap around your shoulders, you don’t mind at all. 

And when his eyes meet yours and crinkle in a smile, and one of his hands comes up to cup your face gently, you close your eyes and lean into the kiss.

You leave that night with the taste of chocolate on your lips and his hand in yours.

[oboevallis]

Scout and Octavian

my inspiration came from the book Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe

this is a couple years into the future and Scout is 16 I’m also not sure if this is the actuality of the mount rainier route

“This is very nice Scout! I’m assuming, I’m not a car man, so I don’t know much about cars. But I do know a good looking truck when I see one though.” Laughed Octavian, Scout’s long time aquatinted friend.

“Thanks, my dad got this car like a year ago and has been fixing it up ever since. It was definitely a shock. A 1948 international pickup truck. My new reason for existence.” Replied Scout as he got into the truck. “Come on let’s go to Mount Rainer loop.”

“That’s an hour and a half away and then you have the drive around the loop and back. We wouldn’t be home until the sunrises. Our parents are going to lose their minds! And I hope you know that it’s sad this truck is your only reason for existence since you have a friend like me.” Octavian counteracts as he climbed into the truck.

“Ehh, I’m not all that concerned about my parents opinions in this situation. But this is the most scenic and serene drive you will ever take.” Scout said as he started to back out of his parents drive way.

“Like you’ve ever been in the mountains” Octavian scoffed. “Shut up” Scout playfully barked back. “It’ll be an adventure for the two of us.”

_______________________________________________

“Hey Mils, where’s Scout at?” Link asked as he and his longtime girlfriend attempted to make dinner.

“Umm, I’m not sure he is probably up in his room.” Amelia said as she carefully diced an onion.

“No, his car is gone he didn’t ask for my permission and obviously didn’t ask for yours.” Link said starting to get irritated that his son would leave the house without contacting anyone.

“Okay, I’ll call him.” Amelia put the knife down, wiped off her hands with a towel and took out her phone.

“Amelia if he is driving he shouldn’t pick up his phone, don’t call him are you crazy!” Link exclaimed starting to deflect his anxiousness into anger.

“Sorry, your right. We need to calm down. He is a good kid, he has good friends, well friend. He is not going to do anything stupid we can trust him. I’m sure it’ll be a matter of minutes until he comes through that front door.” Amelia reassured the two.

Enough time had passed for the two to burn the dinner, order takeout, and have the takeout delivered. Link was starting to snap at every little thing. And Amelia was getting anxious that her son was MIA and that Link was anxious which was definitely out of the ordinary.

“I’m going to call him, he is smart enough to pull over.” Amelia said as she took out her phone and dialed the number. “Nothing.”

“Okay, okay, try Octavian” Link replied pacing back and forth across their living room.

“No answer either.” Amelia responding biting down the last of her nails.

“God I should never of given him that car. He is too young, he probably has some girl in his car and is having unprotected sex with her.” Link said still pacing.

“I think we both know that’s very unlikely.” The neurosurgeon remarked.

_________________________________________________

The two had gotten to the state park and were waiting in the toll line, when they finally turned down the stereo and came back to reality.

“I’m surprised I don’t have a ruptured ear drum.” Octavian jokingly stated while rubbing his ear.

“Oh come on, you were the one amping you the volume. I’m impressed we didn’t break the bass.” Scout laughed while approaching the electronic toll, since it was night and the workers were no longer out and about.

“Here I’ve got it.” Octavian passed his debit card to his friend.

“No it’s ok.” Scout said.

“No.” Octavian sternly said, making Scout slightly scared and something else he didn’t quite know the name to.

“Ok, ok, then.” Scout laughed trying to shake his uncomfortableness away.

“Damn, looked at all these missed calls. I’m even getting calls from your parents. This was a bad a idea we should turn back.” Octavian anxiously said. “Your phone as well.” He added looking at Scout’s phone.

“No we have already gotten this far. We never do anything like this. And they need to calm down it’s not like we’re doing drugs or having sex! They can trust us for a few hours. And I already do know what you are gonna do and your not going to do it. My car my rules.” Scout said to his anxious friend.

“They should have a right to know we’re safe and with one another!” Octavian exclaimed.

“ I just want to forget the world for a couple hours, Tavi. No parents, no school, no feelings. Just music and the hum of this car.” Scout honestly said.

“Fine.” Octavian reluctantly said. “But we are listening to a podcast.”

_________________________________________________

“You haven’t heard from them either?” Amelia asked over the phone with Octavian’s mother.

“We’ve checked the library, the coffee shop and the diner. Do you have any other clue where either could of gone?”

“Ok then thanks though, keep me updated. Take care, bye.” Amelia ended the phone call.

“How could he do this Amelia?” Link asked tears starting to burn in his eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, just yesterday the only rule he ever broke was reading past his bedtime. Did we do this? Did we not let him take enough risks?” Amelia asked feeling like the worst mother in the world.

“That kid took risks, like the time he jumped off the top of his swing set. Or the time he took bug spray and a stick to make a makeshift flame thrower in the backyard.” Link reminisced.

“Sh-should we start to call hospitals?” Amelia asked as her voice broke.

“No, you are right he is just being a teenager.” Link silently prayed this was the case.

_________________________________________________

“ I have no clue what is so fascinating about nephology that they will make a podcast about it. Also the fact that you listen to it.” Scout remarked as he had one hand on the wheel and the other out the window taking in the crisp air.

“Cloud are very fascinating, you for one should take interest in this considering all the time you stare at clouds.” Octavian replied in a snarky manner.

Scout looked over at Octavian and they locked eye contact.

“Hey! Watch out!” Octavian screamed.

part 2

[youngbloodseavey]

stay golden // corbyn besson

this is my “thank you for 2k followers” post. i’d like to say thank you, because i never thought this would ever be happening when i started this blog. thank you guys for supporting me and this blog, even when i don’t post or i don’t follow through with my projects. thank you. thank you for 2k. it means the absolute world and more to me. i love each and every one of you with my entire heart and more.

request: Requests are open! Yay! I have some requests that I've been storing up  just waiting for this moment. So let's say that Corbyn had this childhood friend who was also his neighbour and one day when they're like 14/15 she moves to the other side of the country and they get disconnected. She always had a crush on him and so when she finds out he's on tour like 4/5 yrs later she gets limelight tickets bc wow she doesn't think he remembers her and then they reconnect and like probably fluff who knows         

i have no fuckin idea how limelight works so like bare with me kids, and also corbyn is SINGLE in this story. S I N G L E. christina is not corbyn’s girlfriend in this story so keep that in mind tHANKS

pairing: corbyn x fem!reader

triggers: none

“why do you have to leave me?” corbyn pouted at his best friend y/n, as they laid together in the grass fields by their houses. 

the fifteen year-olds had been best friends since diapers, and had found out recently that y/n had to move all the way across the country from their home in virginia to california.

“corbs, i don’t want to move. i wanna stay here with you, and graduate, and live my life here in virginia. but my dad got this new fancy-ass job, and i can’t get out of moving,” y/n rolled over onto her stomach, now facing her blue-eyed best friend.

“trust me, the last thing i want to do right now is to leave,” she whispered, feeling the familiar sting of tears rush through her, and her eyes became watery.

“no, please don’t cry y/n,” corbyn rushed out, immediately sitting up and taking the girl into his arms. “if you cry then i’m gonna start crying.”

 the two teenagers held each other in an embrace for what felt like an eternity, not even bothering to speak to each other. all they did was enjoy each other’s presence, because soon they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long time.

“i love you so much corb,” the girl whispered, burying her face into corbyn’s shoulder. she took in a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was her best friend. 

“i love you too y/n.” corbyn was near tears, but was determined to not show his weakness to his best friend. he gently pressed his lips to her temple, lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“y/n! let’s go!” the pair jumped apart at the sound of y/n’s parents, who were loading the car with their luggage. the rest of their stuff would come later in a u-haul. 

“one second mom!” y/n yelled at her parents, who were beginning to look impatient. “hey, before i leave, i wanted to tell you something that i’ve been keeping a secret for a long time,” y/n began to start, taking corbyn’s hands in hers.

the boy’s heart began to race, as he stared into the eyes of his longtime best friend (and admittedly, his longtime crush).

“i really li-” she began, but was cut off by the honk of the car’s horn, beckoning her to go to her parents.

“i’m really gonna miss you.” a sad, tearful smile painted itself on her face. “stay golden besson, because i have no doubt that one day i’m going to see you on some big fancy billboard because you have a number one album. i know i will.” she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand in hers before running off to her parents and hopping into the car. “never stop chasing your dreams. because they’ll become a reality. don’t forget me okay?”

and with a sad smile y/n y/l/n was gone, leaving a tearful corbyn besson alone in a grassy field.

||

it had been four whole years since y/n had seen corbyn. after y/n left and corbyn began to seriously pursue music, it was a bumpy ride for their friendship.

and soon enough, their friendship simply didn’t exist.

it wasn’t a malicious falling out, there was no foul words or cruel gestures. there was simply just silence. and the two of them had to deal with an empty line, a static crackle of nothingness on the other side. 

of course the thought of the other was always in the back of their minds, but both y/n and corbyn were far too scared to try and reconnect. what if what they had wasn’t the same as before?

so when y/n saw that a band called “why don’t we” was going on tour, she was immediately intrigued. and when she saw her blue-eyed ex-best friend on the front cover of the poster, only one question plagued her mind.

does corbyn remember me?

so in an attempt to answer that question and rid her head of the incessant nagging that had been continuous for the past four years, y/n took out her debit card and bought a limelight ticket to their los angeles show. 

so that’s what brought y/n here. standing near the front of the line at the venue. it was only 3:00 and there was already a line wrapped around the block, which warmed y/n’s heart to no end.

you made it corbyn, i knew you could do it.

her stomach began to tie itself in knots as time went on, each second seeming to pass on like a minute.

y/n pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her foot tapping on the pavement as she checked the time for what seemed like the thousandth occasion. 5:00. they should be letting people in for limelight soon.

she began to scroll through her phone, managing to somehow scroll deep into her camera roll. she stopped across a photo of her and corbyn from the 9th grade, smiling wistfully at their goofy grins and wide eyes. 

it was crazy to see how much had changed in four years. corbyn was now touring the world, and y/n was finishing up her first year of college. 

“oh my god, you’ve met corbyn?!” y/n was shook out of her daze by an excited voice squealing from behind her, and she turned around to see a girl no older than 16. the girl was wide-eyed and excited as ever, another girl whom y/n assumed to be her friend looking equally as hyped. y/n was irked that the two girls were looking at her phone screen without her permission, but decided to mask her irritation with a smile.

“yeah,” she began, trying to think of an excuse as to how she knew corbyn. she didn’t want people to know she was corbyn’s childhood best friend, it might cause unnecessary drama. “i met him a few years back. i’ve been a fan of him since the beginning, and i’m so insanely proud of him and i want to support him in any way possible.” well, at least she wasn’t lying. the two girls nodded.

“well what’s it like to meet him? is he nice?” one of the girls asked, and y/n began to smile. childhood memories of her and corbyn began to flood her mind, causing a warm feeling to ball up in her stomach.

“he’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. i miss him to absolute death, and i can’t wait to see him again.” y/n almost became choked up as she spoke, memories of her and corbyn overwhelming her mind. 

the girls opened their mouths to speak, but were interrupted by a man with a megaphone beginning to yell over the crowd.  

“people with a limelight ticket, please come to the front of the crowd! stand in front of the entrance doors, we will be letting you in very shortly.” y/n’s pulse began to race, and she said a quick goodbye to the girls she was talking to before making her way to the big, double-door entrance.  

her nerves were as high as they could be as she was let in through the doors, taking out her id for security to check and having her ticket scanned. 

soon enough, y/n found herself waiting on a couch in a large room, fifty or so fans milling about the room. her stomach was in a million knots, and she began to play with her fingers as a nervous habit.

she took out her phone and began to scroll aimlessly, checking her social media in an attempt to sway the nerves from her stomach. she couldn’t even focus on the posts and tweets she was looking at, instead her head was swarming with nervousness and thoughts.

what if he doesn’t remember me? what if we don’t click like we used to? what if he hates me?

the last thought absolutely terrified y/n. she knew that they fell out, but she didn’t hold any ill feelings towards corbyn for it. hopefully he feels the same way.

“oh my god they’re here!” y/n heard the high pitched squeal of a teenage girl, followed by a flurry of screams. they’re here. this is it.

“hey guys!” she heard a deep male voice, and she traced the voice back to a tall, brown haired boy. she recognized him as jonah, who was the oldest in the band.

y/n had decided to do some studying up on the rest of the band and their music before coming, just so she didn’t look like a complete idiot. and she had to admit, they made some damn good music.

the screams soon died down, morphing into loud conversation. the band members began to mill around, speaking to fans and taking photos. the couch y/n was sitting on was in the corner farthest from the boys, which she was grateful for.

she began to formulate four years of regret and apologies into a single sentence, which proved as hard as it sounds. 

y/n saw that the band began to come closer, talking to the fans and taking pictures. she was a few feet away from daniel, and she decided to push her nerves to the side and walked up to the blue-eyed boy, who was clad in a floral button down and black pants. 

daniel caught y/n’s eye, and finished up his conversation with the girls he was with to approach the nervous girl.

“hey there love!” daniel’s tooth-gap was on full display, his joyful aura almost immediately soothing some of y/n’s nerves. he enveloped her into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. 

y/n hugged back, feeling oddly comfortable in daniel’s arms. she pulled away after a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

“so what’s your name?” daniel asked, plopping down on the couch that y/n was previously sitting on. y/n took seat next to him sinking down into the fabric. 

“y/n,” she responded, moving herself into a comfortable position.

“well that’s a gorgeous name,” daniel responded, turning his body to face y/n. “where are you from?”

“i live in los angeles now, but i used to live in fairfax, virginia.” y/n explained her heart warming at the thought of her hometown.

“fairfax? that’s where corbyn’s from!” his bright eyes widened at the realization, and y/n nodded. “did you used to know him?” y/n nodded.

“we used to be best friends actually,” y/n mumbled, feeling a sudden amount of wistfulness wash over her.

“woah wait, really? no way,” daniel looked shell shocked. y/n nodded yet again, taking out her phone and pulling up a picture of her and corbyn from their 8th grade formal. she showed the photo to daniel, whose jaw seemed to drop even more.

“i’ve known him since we were in diapers, and we were best friends until i moved to california when we were 15,” y/n explained, pulling up another picture of her and corbyn for emphasis. “after that we kinda just, lost touch i guess.” y/n shrugged, and daniel nodded.

“so is that why you’re here? to see corbyn again?” daniel asked, and y/n moved her head up and down in a nod.

“i’m terrified though, like what if we don’t connect like we used to? i don’t know, maybe i’m overthinking things but it has been four years,” y/n trailed off, her eye catching a tuft of bright blonde hair from across the room. her heart skipped a beat at even the tiniest sight of him.

daniel was silent for a few moments, and y/n could see that the boy was deep in concentration.

“let’s go say hi to him.” daniel stood up, reaching a hand out to y/n to help her stand up from the couch. 

“w-what?” y/n stammered, her heart beginning to race.

“let’s go see him right now. you need to rip off the band-aid, and he needs a boost of confidence and energy. tour is taking a lot out of him, and maybe you’ll be the thing to give him that boost.” he replied, gesturing once more to signal for y/n to take his hand.

“fine.” she took his hand, standing up. “but if he doesn’t remember me, you have to get me out of there immediately okay?”

“deal.” daniel smiled, and began to walk with y/n over to where corbyn stood with a crowd of girls around him.

“i’ll distract the fans, you go talk to corbyn.” he gave her a bright, reassuring  smile before sauntering over to the group of fans, sending the group into a frenzy. he walked a couple steps to the right and the girls followed him and began to talk animatedly, leaving corbyn standing alone.

y/n attempted to shake the butterflies from her stomach, but to no avail.

deep breaths, deep breaths.

she walked over to corbyn, who turned to talk to another fan. she took in another breath, before raising her hand and tapping him on the shoulder.

“hey there besson.” she breathed out, staring into the same clear blue eyes that she adored so much. the same blue eyes that were filled with tears the last time she saw him four years prior.

“y/n?” his eyes scanned your face, not believing for a second what he was seeing. was this really her? was it his best friend? the girl he was so deeply in love with for practically his entire life?

he couldn’t help himself, and scooped her into a bear hug. she wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her head into the crook of his neck. he smelled of cologne, mixed with the familiar scent of him that she remembered from oh-so long ago. he smelled like corbyn.

“i missed you so much,” she mumbled feeling tears make their way to her eyes. she clung onto him like a koala bear, savoring every millisecond of the hug as if it made up for the four years of not talking to each other, and she could tell corbyn was doing the same.

“i missed you more.” his voice shook with emotion, and he too was near tears. y/n pulled away from the hug, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

“impossible.” she smiled, locking eyes with corbyn. the bright blue orbs blazed with emotion, and she could see the tears that brimmed on his lower lash line.

she looked over corbyn’s shoulder for a second, seeing that daniel was looking at the pair with a wide smile plastered on his face. he shot her a thumbs up and she laughed, burying her face in corbyn’s shoulder once more.

after a minute or so of just enjoying each other’s presence, corbyn gently set y/n down onto the ground, his hands still placed on her waist. the smallest reminder that he was still there, he was real, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“i’m so sorry for everything,” she mumbled, the tears that pooled in her eyes beginning to fall down her face in delicate strokes. “i should’ve tried harder to make our friendship work, but i gave up.”

“it’s not your fault. half of the blame is on me too. it’s both our faults, but nothing is gonna change our mistakes from the past. what’s important is that we focus on the future. our future.” he gently cupped her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with a simple stroke of his thumb.

she smiled, placing her smaller hands over his.

oh god, i really want to kiss him.

the thought ran through her head, and she almost immediately pushed it aside.

it’s been four years since you’ve seen him y/n, don’t just go kissing your old best friend and crush in front of a bunch of his fans with cellphones in their hands.

he looked into her glittering eyes, feeling the pull that he felt towards her four years prior. it was as if nothing had changed in his heart and soul.

i’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. his heart longed for her lips on his.

he slowly began to lean in, and y/n sucked in a breath and began to weigh the options in her head.

fuck it.

she leaned in, melting into his gentle touch. y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, corbyn’s doing the same. their lips were four inches apart.

three inches.

two inches.

one inch.

“okay guys!” y/n and corbyn jumped apart, both blushing a bright crimson. they had failed to notice the crowd that had formed a circle around the pair. “sadly it’s time for us to go, but we want you all to know that we love you guys so much, and we hope you enjoy the show tonight!” jonah’s voice boomed, sending a smirk in corbyn’s direction.

“i-i guess i have to get going now,” corbyn mumbled, his hand going to rub the back of his neck.

“yeah, you probably should,” y/n began to fiddle around with her fingers, rocking back and forth gently on her heels.

“i hope you enjoy the show, i’ll see you after? i can send someone out to come find you, so you can come backstage if you want?” he proposed, and y/n’s heart set alight.

“i’d love that,” she smiled shyly at the blonde boy. “break a leg besson.”

“see you later y/l/n.” he paused for a beat. “i hope i make you proud.” he bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, the spot where his lips touched tingling after he pulled away.

he shot her another heart-melting smiled before walking away, a bounce in his step.

i have no doubt that you’ll make me the proudest i’ve ever been when i see you up there corbyn. i always knew you’d make it.

[curiousdamage]

Cost and Value

Sequel to Motorbikes and Memories

For @thatsweetbobbyfacetho @rynnsama

It had been the longest day for Rebecca Brown.  The Winter competition for both the choir and the Show Choir were coming up.  As well as the yearly talent show, so every wannabe pop star in the school had been by her office to sing for her.  And all the regular Christmas time school stuff as well. Two more weeks.  She had a horrible headache and to top it off, she was more than a little worried about Bobby.  He’d been so stressed out lately.  His company wasn’t doing as well as he thought it should be.  He was meeting with LaRusso Auto this afternoon and he’d put so much importance on this meeting if it went badly, he was going to lose it.  She couldn’t help but wonder if his nervousness about this meeting had more to do with Daniel LaRusso than the actual account.  As far as she knew, they hadn’t spoken since graduation.  

She pulled into the driveway of their house, grabbing the bag of groceries she and Lea Anne had stopped by the market for.  She still had to cook dinner before she could relax.    

“TJ and Angela are coming over for dinner, get your homework done so you can spend time with them,” she said to Lea Anne.  She pulled her phone from her bag and checked it.  A missed call from her Dad and a text from Angela saying she and TJ would be there at five, one from Christopher saying he’d be there around six thirty, and one from Johnathan bemoaning the fact that Berkeley was too far away for him to come home for family dinner and asking if she could make her pasta puttanesca again when he came home for Christmas break the next weekend.  

Nothing from Bobby. She bit her lip and sighed.  Either the meeting had gone well, and he was still there, or it had gone badly, and he was back at the office with his phone off, obsessively trying to figure out where it went sideways.  He’d do that all night if she didn’t stop him.  She’d give him another half hour, then she was going to find him.  She stashed her phone in her bag again.

The sound of a motorbike caused her to turn and look up the street.  She knew that sound well.  She wondered which parents on their street had actually allowed their kid to get one? She covered her face and laughed when she saw Bobby, her Bobby, on the bike in question.

“Hey, Becca!” He grinned. “Think your Dad will let you go for a ride?”

She laughed and covered her eyes again, then put her hands on her hips and smiled, “I don’t know, Bobby Brown, you’re supposed to ask me before you get here.”

“Aw, come on, Becca, just this once,” he wheedled.  “I’ll have you back before they get home.”

Lea Anne looked from her mother to her father and back.  “You two are being really weird.  Did you buy a motorcycle, Dad?”

“It’s a loaner,” Bobby answered.  “You coming or not, Becca Anne?”

She grinned and passed the grocery bag and her purse to her daughter.  “Here, put these away and start your homework.  If we’re not back by the time Angie gets here, tell her to get my debit card and order dinner for everyone.  You can pick where.”

“But, Mom,” Lea Anne protested.  “You’re wearing a dress and heels.”

“Just do what I say,” she replied, kissing her daughter on the cheek before running across the lawn to Bobby’s open arms.  She kissed him, giggling like crazy as she climbed on behind him, trying to remember how to fold her skirt so that it would be out of the way, but she wouldn’t be flashing everyone either.  Where was Ali Mills when you needed her?  She slid forward, wrapping her arms around him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Hotshot,” she breathed in his ear, making him shiver.  They made a loop around the city before heading up into the hills and stopping at a secluded overlook.

“Remember this place?” he asked.

“I remember,” she smiled and nodded.  “We used to come up here and make out.”

“And?”  He turned around to face her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

“I might have agreed to marry you up here.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Of course, I do.  You were acting so nervous and weird, I thought you were going to break up with me,” she replied.

“Why would I do that?” He nuzzled her neck, kissing the hollow where it met her shoulder.  “You don’t leave the Princess.”

“Might have gotten a better offer,” she replied.  “A princess without Darth Vader for a father.”

“Well, then she wouldn’t be my princess,” he smiled.  “You know, I think I fell in love with your neck first, the rest of you later.”

“My neck, huh?  That’s a new one.”

“Yeah.  In tenth grade.  You sat in front of me in California History, right after P.E.  You’d come in with your hair all twisted up on top of your head and held with a pencil.  I’d just sit and stare at this beautiful neck.”  He rubbed her shoulders.  “I spent many more hours thinking about putting hickeys on your neck than I ever did California history.”

“Bobby!” She laughed.

“What?  I was fifteen.  What did you think I was thinking about?  I can’t tell you anything about the gold rush, but I can tell you what earrings you wore with that pink and blue sweater.  Dangling rain cloud ones,” he said kissing her neck again.  “Then you’d pull that pencil out and your hair would fall across my desk…,”

“And you’d huff and sigh and fling it back over my shoulder like it was on fire,” she replied.  “I loved those earrings.  I think I’m still mad at Emily for losing them.”

“Just an excuse to touch it,” he laughed.

“Sure,” she scoffed.  “So, what is the deal with the bike?”

“LaRusso took it in trade from some parent who wanted it gone,” he said.

“So, you bought it?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Just a test drive.  You got to admit, though, it’s almost identical to the one I had in high school.”

“That’s the first thing I noticed, even sounded the same,” she replied.  “But don’t you think LaRusso is wondering where you are with his bike? This is a long test drive.”

“He has my Lexus.  I don’t think he’s worried about this bike. In fact, I think he was glad to get it off his lot,” he said.  “We did push him down a cliff with our bikes.”

“Thought it was a hill?”

“Yeah, well.”

“You want this bike, don’t you?” She asked.

“So much,” he admitted. “But it’s not the right time.”

“Why is that?”

He shrugged.  “I’ve put almost all of our savings in this stupid company ideal and I’m barely making expenses.  This bike is completely frivolous.  It’s the wrong time to buy something like this.  Maybe if my company was doing better, maybe if I hadn’t left the firm..., I can’t justify buying this thing just for old times’ sake.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him, laying her head on his shoulder.  “Don’t call my husband’s company stupid.  I loved when you’d pick me up on your bike.  I could hear it from like, two blocks away.  Sometimes, when things weren’t so good at home, I’d be holed up in my room, especially after I didn’t have to worry about Em and Amy anymore, I’d hear you turn on the street and everything was instantly better. I knew that I was going to be with you and things were going to be okay.”  She let him go and put her hand under his chin, making him look at her.  “That’s still true, you know, Bobby.  As long as I’m with you, things are going to be okay. Me and you, we can get through anything, right?”

“Right,” he smiled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.  “I love you.”  He knew what she was going to say even before her pink, cotton candy lips twisted into that smile.

“I know.”

As they rode down the hills back to LaRusso Auto, Becca knew that Bobby was going to turn down the bike, no matter how badly he wanted it.  But she also knew that value and costs weren’t always the same and the value of that bike, to Bobby, and to her, was worth any cost.

Besides, isn’t the twenty-ninth anniversary Motorbikes and Linen?

[rileychester]

My oldest sister is driving me crazy. I love her, but she makes me want to go to a high secluded place and scream until I’m hoarse.

Somehow since I was about eleven or twelve I kinda became the Christmas Elf of the family. I do most of the decorating, gift shopping, wrapping, food shopping, baking, Christmas cards, inside lights, cleaning, etc. My parents are busy with work and both my sisters at the time didn’t live close. So I just kinda took it all over and have been running it since.

Now we all live in the same state and my oldest sister (I think has never been thrilled with the fact that I’m the Christmas person in the family, not that she’s ever lifted a finger to help or offered to help, but I digress) I do the shopping for my parents because my mom is too busy and it’s not really my dad’s thing. So I have access to my mom’s debit card, I have everyone write a list of what they want or need for Christmas. I do Black Friday weekend and Cyber Monday, I stick to a budget and try to get people what they ask for.

My sister wanted to buy things too this Christmas for the family, so my mom gave her another card and she went and bought clothes, $1500 worth of clothes. I get that it’s six adults and the stores she went to tend to be more expensive than I go to. But who spends $1500 on clothes and going through the budget without even asking people what they want and with someone else money? I can understand a few hundred dollars, five hundred tops, but what the hell is she buying with an amount that large? Is she making payment installments on a car? It’s clothes, and I get they can be pricey, but we’re not a designing wearing family. We’re more a cheap t-shirt/flannel and jeans kind of family. And none of us are in need of any new winter jackets or outdoor equipment.

The one thing she got my dad was a pair of nice pants that would never wear and wouldn’t work. So we now have to spend more money getting him the three items he actually asked for. All my mother said, was that they were nice when I asked her what was bought.

I understand her heart was in the right place, but she just bulldozed in and blew a bunch of money that wasn’t her without even considering others first. I don’t think I would be that bothered if it was five hundred dollars, though it would frustrate me. And I know it’s not my money, but it just comes across as irresponsible, immature, selfish, and thoughtless of others around you.

And so not to hurt my sister’s feelings or at least to not cause any complications or drama. My mother isn’t insisting that she take any of it back or at least the super expensive things back. So that means we have to spend more money to get people things they actually wanted and not get things that people actually wanted and asked for. Because money grows on trees and is super easy to come by.

[purplesurveys]

1105

surveys by seachaange

What do you do when someone is talking to you about something you don't care about? I listen and try to ask questions or add my own input so that they can see that even though I personally don’t care about the thing they’re talking about, I’m invested in them.

What is the best pizza place in your neighbourhood? Erm, we don’t really have a lot of independent pizza joints, actually. Most of the ones I see are chain restaurants like Pizza Hut and Domino’s. The best pizza I’ve had is from Vu’s at Marco Polo, but it’s been a whileeeee since I’ve had their food. Mama Lou’s pizza is also good.

Do you have Photoshop installed on your computer? I do but I only had it installed for school. I have no personal interest to learn it.

Are there any teachers you have that you are close with? I wouldn’t say that. I’m kinda chummy with one of my English teachers from high school - like he knew about me and Gab and supported us, I show my support for his art, we greet each other every now and then, etc - but we’re not ‘close.’

Do you have friends that play field hockey? No.

What about soccer? Not friends but I do know a number people who play football, yeah.

Do you think homosexuals are leading a bad lifestyle? This question aged like milk, didn’t it...

What do you think of the iPad? I remember when it blew up like crazy. It was such a revolutionary thing back when it was new, so much so that my dad even felt the need to buy one. It was fun when the hype lasted; but nowadays I don’t know people who would still seek out an iPad other than artists and law/med students, lmfao.

Do you put lotion on after you get out of the shower? I don’t.

Do you have any concerts on dvd? A lot, but they’re of concerts from a time when DVDs were still a thing. I haven’t had a new DVD in around 7-8 years.

Do you still have a VHS player? I think my parents have thrown theirs out already.

Has anyone ever given you a promise ring? No.

Do you send postcards to people when you go on vacation? I don’t. But aw, this made me remember when Jo did a summer exchange program in London and she sent postcards to Aya in the few months that she had been away. I thought that was sweet.

What do you think is the most comfortable shoe? Out of the pairs I have, my Onitsuka Tiger shoes for sure.

Have you seen Lady Gaga's music video for Telephone? That was suuuuuuch a big deal when it came out. Yes, I definitely have and I must’ve watched it a thousand times. Also rude, Beyoncé was in there too lol

If so, what do you think of it? It was so creative and a lot of fun to watch, especially for 2009 when artists weren’t exactly daring with music video concepts yet. I can’t believe they never collaborated again since.

What do you think of the septum piercing? It’s great.

Do you frequently skip class? Depends on my interest in the class/the professor, OR how tired I am that week. I skipped my psychology elective a lot because I didn’t think the instructor was all that great; and as much as I loved every single one of my history classes, there were a few sessions I voluntarily had to skip because I wasn’t doing mentally well. It really depends.

--

When you're really thirsty, what do you enjoy drinking most? Water. Anything else wouldn’t be able to quench my thirst as well.

What do you find inspirational in the world? I think it differs based on what I need to see at a given time, I guess. At this point in my life, I like hearing from people who have risen from their trust and abandonment issues, because it’s what I’ve been going through as well. I probably never would’ve found something like that inspirational, say, 6 months ago, so it really depends.

When hanging out with your bf or gf, what do you like doing most? I’m a very ‘let’s spend time in silence’ type of person. I cherished it the most when my ex and I would go to a coffee shop and work for hours, in complete and comfortable silence; or when I would be driving and no words would be exchanged for nearly the entire ride. Even though I stay quiet, in those moments I’m actually very happy. Of course new experiences are great too, but I personally enjoy the conventional ‘boring’ stuff the most when with a partner.

What do/did you think of your high school? Teeming with homophobia, bigotry, and just your typical Catholic gatekeepy judgmental environment. I look back at high school fondly because of the friends I made, not because of the toxic environment they nurtured in there.

What is the dirtiest rap song you have ever heard? I don’t listen to a lot of rap. But as an 11 year old listening to Nicki Minaj’s Itty Bitty Piggy, I was immediately traumatized lmao. I still can’t listen to that song.

What about a dirty song in any other genre? Uhhhhhhhhh probably Drunk in Love?? Lmaoooo I’d die for Beyoncé a million times but I always skip that song. My asexual ass just can’t deal.

What is a genre of music you simply can't stand? One of them is techno.

What is, in your opinion, the best way of dealing with a break up? Being kind to yourself.

What flavour of Doritos do you like best? I’ve only ever tried the nacho cheese flavor, but I love that one.

Where do you do your grocery shopping? I don’t do the grocery shopping in the family but my parents usually do it at SM or at this local store we have nearby.

Would you ever go to a comedy club? Yes, with a friend so I’d be more comfortable.

Do you think Victoria's Secret is overpriced? I haven’t been in one of their stores in a while, so I can’t really say.

Do you still have a VHS player? Again, I don’t think so.

Do you have a tumblr? :))))))

Why is it that photography is becoming a trend? So this survey was made in 2010 and I can definitely confirm it was a crazy huge trend lol. Even I got into it and asked my parents to get me a DSLR back then. Anyway, I think it was because during this time, DSLRs had been slowly becoming a thing? and they were kiiiiiiiinda cheap - at least cheap enough to be accessible to a large amount of people - so it allowed people to play with different styles that were very unfamiliar at the time, like light painting, fisheye, close-ups, etc. And then at one point everyone had DSLRs and it just wasn’t as enjoyable anymore because everyone was doing the same kinds of trendy shots lol.

What is the funniest movie you have ever seen? I’m gonna go with The Proposal - Sandra Bullock was gold in that movie.

Did you watch American Idol this past season? No. Do they still air new seasons of that?? I stopped watching when the same guitar-playing, country-singing white men kept winning.

If so, how did you feel about the winner? It’s been more than a decade since I last cared for the show.

Don't you hate it when one of your earbuds stops working? Sure.

Do you have a normal landline, or do you use MagicJack? Holy shit I have not heard of MagicJack in a goddamn WHILE lmao, what a throwback. We had one, I’m pretty sure...but I never knew what it was for.

Do you even use a house phone anymore? Landlines are still common in the Philippines. Are they not in other countries? Hahahaha.

Would you ever consider dating someone who lived across the country? If I loved, trusted, and was committed to them enough, yes.

What was the most expensive restaurant you've ever eaten at? I wasn’t able to track the name but I’m pretty sure it was the fine dining restaurant in our cruise trip that my parents treated me to for my birthday.

Do/did you take foods classes in high school? My school didn’t offer such a class, but we had home economics and we were occasionally taught how to cook and bake certain dishes.

Do you have a tattoo? No, not yet.

If you do, describe the pain you went thru when getting it done. Eugh this is what I’m scared of :((((

Do you enjoy making hemp necklaces and bracelets? I’ve never tried.

Have you ever watched the show Strangers With Candy? I’ve never even heard of it before, I’m sure.

What is your favourite bookstore? Fully Booked, because their collection is expansive, always complete, and they let you take a book of the shelves and read it if you’d like.

Have you ever used torrents? Mostly throughout high school. I did use a torrent to download Midsommar recently, though.

How can we tell if you are in a bad mood? I go quiet.

How are you when you're in a really good mood? Complete opposite - I will be bubbly and chatty, especially in instances when I’m not really expected to be.

Are you nice to everyone, even people you don't like? Yes.

When you're bored in class, what do you do? I seldom found myself bored in class because I’m constantly furiously taking notes. But if the prof themselves are very boring and there’s nothing to take notes about, I go ahead and check my social media either from my phone or laptop.

--

Would you rather go to Lollapalooza, Warped Tour, or Bonnaroo? As a teenager, I had always wanted to go to Warped Tour. As I’ve gotten older, though, the lineups for Lollapalooza have appealed to me more. Plus it’s in Chicago, soooooo a million more brownie points for that.

Do you have anything that is autographed? By who? Yeah, I have an autographed poster of AJ Lee. It was my most prized possession and I even placed it on a big picture frame and had it up on my wall for yearsssssssss, and then my mom had to take it down because of course it’s my mom and of course she had to do it.

Can you sleep when it's really hot? Welcome to summer months in the Philippines.

Do you know anyone who works at McDonald's? I think Carley does, but idk if that’s changed in the last few months. I don’t stay updated about her life, haven’t been for years.

Do you have a debit card? Yes.

What bank do you (or your family) use? I am not sharing that lol.

Would you ever hitchhike? I think I’m mostly open to it, though I will say I’ve read enough stories about murders that involve hitchhiking that make me a little scared of the idea, hahah.

Have you ever been kayaking? We did a boat thing in Palawan a few years ago but I’m not sure if that was kayaking or canoeing. Anywho, the experience was breathtaking.

Do you have a problem with swimming in a pond or lake? In the context of my country, yeah, because our natural bodies of water aren’t exactly...the cleanest, lmao. I’d feel much more comfortable swimming in a private beach.

Does anyone in your family go hunting or fishing? Nope. But maybe some of my relatives living in the US do?? Idk for sure.

What do/did you do when someone you barely knew asks you to sign their yearbook? We don’t really practice that. Only the really expensive, bougie, international schools here that have foreign students to begin with do that, I think.

In high school are you/were you in the plays and musicals? No.

Do you have a birdbath in your yard? No, we don’t.

Is the house you live in old or new? It’s fairly new; we had it first built in 2005 and we officially moved in 2008.

Where do you go when you need a new pair of sneakers? Depends on what brand I’m in the mood to buy.

Do you make New Year's Resolutions, or do you not even bother? I typically don’t.

Most annoying commercial? Haven’t been paying attention to them lately.

What does your favourite bathing suit look like? It’s just a simple black bikini but its overall shape and design is super cute and chic.

Do you like Silly Bandz? No.

If you do, how many do you have and what are your favourite shapes?

What do you think of My Super Sweet 16? I never watched it because I feel like I’d only get stressed if I did.

Do you have mini-blinds in your house? I have pull-down window shades in my room, not blinds.

Do you rent your home or do you own it? My parents own it.

What is your favourite song right now? Trigger by Hayley Williams.

Do you use Firefox? Nope.

Do you have a pool in your backyard? We don’t.

Do you have a gym membership? No.

Favourite field trip you've ever been on? Freshman year of high school when we went to two museums :)

[hisgrudge]

25 March 2021

I decided to give a try on dating someone I didn’t love, but hopeful. He started to go after me around my 29th birthday (year 2020). Just within a month, we were already dating. He is my current colleague at work, we met in October 2019.

I told him about my baggage. My secrets and my illness. He said nothing has changed, he has loved me since 28uild. He said he will always be there for me, let him accompany me for my routine check up. I told him the reasons I broke up with my ex, one of them is that he was reluctant to know my family. So I was surprised when he came to my hometown to pick me so we can travel back to Jakarta together after a month of dating. Bear in mind that was during the pandemic time, so travelling was more troublesome.

He was true to his words, he always accompanied me to my regular check-up, even to the dentist. He travelled 40km a day to meet me at home, take me out for meals, movies, cheese tea and buy me things. Sometimes during the wet season, he would get caught in the rain or storm. Never once he complaint to me. He said he is willing to do all these for me, because he loves me. He said I’m the one for him and always pray to God about us.

I know I never feel nervous, butterflies in the stomach or electricity with him. He makes me feel like home, like I make him feel too. We have many same perception of life such as view of marriage where a child is not the center of it, we want to have a small private wedding, we should communicate well because its fundamental for relationship and etc.

He is a capable man, he finished his job well and have a good time management. He doesn’t earn much working in NGO, that’s why he accepts side jobs too as a free-lancer. He admits that his side jobs pay him better. He originally planned to quit this NGO after serving for one year but decided to stay because of me. 

Is a man like him truly exist? Or is he acting? I found him lying so many times, even for a small thing such as where he really lives.

I first caught him lying about buying lunch for his ex girlfriend. He swore to God that he didn’t do it and I took his word. But I was determine to check the truth myself, so I checked his phone GrabFood history and found that he did send lunch for her. His reason was he was scared I would get angry because every time we argue, would be because of his ex. I forgave him and told him not to lie about such thing. I am not the crazy jealous gf if he tells me honestly the reason he bought her lunch and asked for my permission. I will be most likely to agree.

Second lies was about where he lives. He lives next to the apartment he told me. He said that’s because he lives with his dad and his dad is very sensitive to noise (he would get angry at him). He admitted after I confronted him 2x having difficulty delivering food to him. I forgave him.

Third time was about his ex again. He promised he wouldn’t contact his ex behind me but he did it again. He even asked his cousin to meet them at MOI although it didn’t happen (I read the chat). He told me he needed to talk to his ex about her unpaid credit card balance because the bank contacted him and demand for payment as he is her guarantor if she cannot pay her credit card balance. Apparently his ex was still mad because he was dating me so she told him off and asked him to get help from his current girlfriend (me). Hearing that I was so annoyed with his ex. Ungrateful bit**. Four months later, he confessed to me it wasn’t about his ex’s unpaid credit card balance but his, that he has used to pay for her living and expenses when they moved back to Indonesia. He was asking for her suggestion on how to deal with his problem when she told him off. He promised he won’t lie to me again.

Fourth was about his debt. He told me that he has not been paying taxes for 5 years when he lived in Europe and now the penalty is about 300%. It’s because he didn’t know he had to pay GST/VAT. The amount is huge and I was dumbfounded. He didn’t ask for my help, he said he can pay them off but he had to sell his car. I took his word. He also planned to go to Europe in mid-year 2021 to apply for leniency and wanted me to keep him accompany. I agreed to it. A month later, I found out that the money he paid was not purely about his unpaid tax, but also his loan. He lost control of the interest on his loan and it started to get to him. He promised there is nothing else he kept from me and will never lie.

Fifth lies is connected to the fourth, he said he hired a lawyer to take care of his matter in Europe but he actually just asked his friends about what to do in his situation. He never paid anyone to do his stuff. He was caught when I asked him to forward his convo with his lawyer and emails from the Bank. He forwarded edited email to me, I confronted him but he didn’t admit until the next day. At this stage, I got anxious and suspicious. Again, he promised he didn’t keep anything from me and will never lie.

The sixth lies was about me. On Sunday afternoon, I noticed that someone withdrew money from my bank account yesterday. I was so shock that I told him about it. He came to my house and helped me canceled that transaction. After checking again, my money was withdrawn last week too. I told him I gave my debit card photo to my insurance adviser because she asked but I covered the cvv code. He was nagging me about that matter and I felt so uneasy. We discussed about changing my debit card tomorrow but he told me be careful of what I said to the Bank because he cancelled a transaction, he could be in trouble. I understand what he meant, by reporting this case to the Bank or Police, I would have to expose what he did for me in the beginning too. I went online and do some case study. On Monday morning, I recheck my account history again for the past one month. I can’t believe I have been stolen 4x! since Feb 21 to March 20, one withdrawal per week. I would have lost a month salary if the last transaction didn’t get cancelled. I wanted to visit the Bank quick amid working hour, and my boyfriend insists to go with me. In the car, again, he asked me to be careful of what I said to the Bank. 

My mind was floating when the bank staff called my queue number. All that my bf warned me before, gone off the window. I said I need to replace my debit card because it’s been compromised. Someone took my money thrice (I purposely left out the fourth one). The staff was not surprised and asked me if I have given my PIN number to anyone. I said no one knows (actually my bf knows). I was then given the location and time of the withdrawal and I can’t believe what I heard. All of it pointed to my bf. I requested cctv recording and it’s being processed but will take up to 10 days. After we left the Bank and sat in my car, I was so out of energy but still told him about it. He said you mean I took your money?? I denied and said of course you won’t do that to me. He said yeah he won’t do that to me. That night, I kept on checking our conversation on whatsapp and my head was prickling. On Tuesday, I called him and he said he wanted to talk to me in person. I told him to meet me at the mall, I can’t trust him to come to my home at that moment. We met at Central Park and he admitted that it was all his doing. I can’t feel anything. He confessed he needed money to pay his credit card’s interest. He was only able to pay all the capital but still left with interest that is still growing each time he is not paying. He planned to return the money in the future. Well, now it’s not about the money.. it’s his attitude, dishonesty and disrespect towards me that kill me. I broke up with him immediately. He was sorry but I can’t feel his sincerity anymore. Since then, I have been unable to sleep at night. I think about how he put on a show in front of me, being kind and all gentleman but steal from my back. We even had sex afterwards! I’m screaming in my heart. He bought me food and clothes using my money that I thought his. He still stole from me after he admitted to his sins above and after telling so many fake promises. I remember he told me twice he wouldn’t mind if I haven’t taken my shower at the weekend because he wanted to smell my body odor. Now that I think about it, he might be using the time I was in the shower up stair to try steal from me because I would have to leave him alone down stair. I remember his excuse to go out to buy drinks for us. I remember when I left my card holder and phone with him when I go to the toilet at the mall. I remember sometimes my brother left his wallet on the table. And this hit me. I need to check my brother’s account without him knowing. If he steals from my brother as well, it’s really too much. I don’t plan to report him to the authority. But if he steal from my bro as well, I will reconsider. 

I think back about Europe trip, my sisters were right to warn me. I can’t tell what is the real him.. My parents might end up paying for his debt so that I could return home. It’s chilling and scary whenever I think about this. God bless his soul. As a devoted Christian himself, he has used Jesus’s name many times to swear in front of me. I hope he is really not a bad person. Just a situation that makes him that way. I can’t see having a faithful future with him.