#felt really sad and was thinking about how it feels like just yesterday my cousins and i were playing outside with plastic nerf guns

[v4mpygf]

sometimes it feels like i’m the only one who can’t let go of the past

[featherandferns]

orange juice (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by noah kahn's incredible music

content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of abuse; mentions of bodily harm (vague, non-graphic); sexual content | feel free to message me with questions of detail if any of this concerns you before reading!

word count: 7.5k

blurb: in the most unlikely of settings, you and JJ reunite after five years apart in radio silence.

“You know, on my way here, I saw a dead rat.”

A cloud of cigarette smoke dispels into the air.

“It was funny, you know? Cause I felt bad that it was dead, even though it was a rat. I mean, I knew nobody was going to miss it, and that it didn’t have any rat family or friends which would mourn it or anything. But still…It looked like it had been hit by a car, and it was only small so it didn’t look very old, and it seemed so harmless lying there. It probably had a million and one diseases, but just laying there, it seemed harmless. And it felt weird to be sad about this thing dying which would have only maybe caused more damage if it had stayed alive – nibbling through electrical wires and all that.”

JJ takes another drag of his cigarette as he digests the anecdote.

“Anyway. This just made me think of that,” you quietly finish before sinking back into the silence.

“Did you just compare my dad’s funeral to a dead rat?”

You clear your throat. JJ watches in his peripheral as you look down at your feet and fidget your fingers.

“Shit, I guess I did.”

His eyes cut ahead the moment yours seem to flick up.

“Can’t believe that’s the first thing I’ve said to you in years.”

JJ inhales and exhales the nicotine of his cigarette. “Well, I can.”

That makes you laugh. Small and sheltered.

“I weren’t sure that you were going to come,” JJ tells you.

“Could say the same thing to you,” you reply.

Sighing, he drops the cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He probably should have worn smarter shoes. But then, why would he? Waste of money and space in his truck. Not like his dad was going to see them anyway.

“I only decided yesterday. Practically drove all night.” As if reminding himself of the sleep deprivation, JJ lets out a yawn.

“How is it, being back in Kildare?” you wonder.

JJ shrugs. “Weird. But also not weird at all. I guess I just feel old. I was driving through town and everything looks different.”

“I mean, it has been five years.”

“Jesus,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head. Had it really been that long?

He shoves his hands in his pant pockets and finally finds the nerve to take you in. His eyes scan over you like one might survey potential damage to a car after a close call. He never lets them go below your waist though. As if losing nerve, he flicks them back up to your head and meets your eyes.

“You look well.”

“Thanks. Right back at ya,” you smile.

With that smile – sweet and simple – JJ finds himself being hurled back through time to his teen years. The reminiscing of his youth and the memories that your presence stirs up feels like reflecting on a past life. Something that he almost had, and something that he didn’t exactly lose, but something that changed.

Everything had changed, really. The streets that he used to drive down with his friends, running away from security and darting to and from keggers and house parties, they all had new homes, new paint, new families. Old mom-and-pop shops were now trendy smoothie spots and hippie bars. Empty plots of land that were a good spot to share a joint had now been bought and developed into stylish holiday rentals. None of JJ’s family was left here, not even his cousin. None of his friends were here anymore either. Well, except for you. Is that what you were to him? A friend?

“It was a nice service,” you say.

“Was it?”

For someone like Luke Maybank, ‘nice’ is probably a generous term for a funeral service that’s void of cheery anecdotes and tender memories. It’s a shame that all the memories JJ held in high regard of his father – of the moments that they were bonded and close – often came with the overarching theme of alcohol or drugs. He wasn’t sure there was ever a genuine moment shared between the two. Whatever praise and pride he gathered from his dad was short lived and sparse. When his dad left the island on the boat he stole, JJ never heard from him again. And now he never would.

“Did they ask if you wanted to say anything?”

“What’s there to say? He was a guy and he died in a bender. Short and simple, I guess.”

You nod and go silent once more.

JJ knows that his answer evaded the politeness markers of small talk, but it was true. Luke Maybank was a human who lived on this earth with no mark to be left apart from those which he laid on his own child. The only way that he’d be remembered was in the nightmares that still sometimes have JJ waking up in cold sweats and reaching for the box of cigarettes by his bed.

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have come,” you say.

“No, it’s not…” JJ shakes his head and offers you a smile, but he knows it looks unnatural. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling right now. Perhaps everything, if that’s even possible. “I’m glad you came. I’m just tired and…well, you know.”

The funeral of my father.

“Right. Of course.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and glance towards the graves. He remembers how you used to do that when you were both younger. It was funny to him: you’d go through the fuss of trying your hair back in one way or another, but you’d always leave out a couple of strands. “To frame my face” you’d tell him, and then you’d precede to spend the rest of the day tucking your hair behind your ears. He liked it though. When you’d be concentrating on something, like surfing or fixing something up or writing, you’d lean forward and they’d come lose and hang over your pretty features. He’d want to mess with them; tuck them behind your ears for you. Sometimes he did. He remembers when you’d be on top of him, kissing him senseless, and they’d come lose and tickle his face. Somehow it would make the whole thing more sensual, with his laughs and your giggles.

He feels his face flush as the memories of nights like those creep back into his head. He shouldn’t think of you like that, not after all this time. Not with how things turned out. And especially not at his father’s funeral.

JJ had come over to you once his father was safely tucked away in the ground, six feet under. You’d attended the service at the church, hiding near the back, and then the burial, and as everybody else departed to give JJ ‘a moment’ (whatever the hell that meant), he’d turned to find you stood near a bench, lost in thought.

“It was nice of you to come,” JJ thanks.

“I’m surprised none of the others are here.”

“They don’t know. I sort of kept it close to the chest,” JJ admits. “I’m actually impressed by the turnout.”

You go to laugh and JJ sees you stifle it. It helps him ease up, smile a real smile for a second, as wicked as that sounds.

“People have layers, I guess.”

“Not my dad.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

You meet his gaze again. Your eyes make it clear that you haven’t shed a tear and neither had JJ. He wasn’t sure if maybe that would come later, once the so-called shock had worn off. He doubted it though. And yet, there was a haze of sadness about him. Death is weird as a whole. The death of a parent like JJ’s, even weirder. Maybe it wasn’t just the funeral causing the sadness. Maybe it was you.

JJ makes a move to leave but before he can even shift his foot one whole step, you’re talking.

“Do you wanna come back to mine? We could catch up. I’m sure you’ve been doing all sorts since I last saw you. Maybe have a drink or two, for old times’ sake?”

“Oh, I don’t drink anymore.”

“Oh,” you say. A pause for thought, then, “well, I have orange juice.”

It’s a strange thing to offer in place of a bottle of beer or glass of wine. Most people would say a cup of coffee. But no - orange juice: that’s where your mind went. It makes JJ smile. It seems so on-par for you to offer him that.

“Okay. Sure. Orange juice sounds good.”

“Do you need a moment, before we leave?” you ask, glancing back over your shoulder to the gravesite of JJ’s deceased father.

The dirt atop of his plot is fresh and stark brown against the green grass. JJ stares a second. The groundkeeper is dusting some muck off the gravestone. The funeral director had offered him a fine granite with award winning chiselling, after recognising JJ from the articles of El Dorado and assuming some high-placed budget. JJ had opted for a simple thing though. Cheap and likely to be hard to read within half a decade. It’s what Luke deserved. Probably what he would have invested into JJ, if the roles were reversed.

“No, I don’t. We can go,” JJ says, voice vacant. He looks back to you. “I’ll drive.”

You don’t live in your childhood home anymore. The place that you’ve settled in is a small home in a sweet looking neighbourhood. In fact, it seems the only part of Kildare that feels familiar to JJ. The front garden is quaint but well kept, with trimmed grass and flower beds that clearly garner a lot of attention and care. The fence is in need of a lick of paint: the blue fading and peeling. A sticky note is attached to the door frame of the front door and it makes JJ smile. ‘Doorbell’s fucked – shout “ding dong” really loud’.

“This is a step up,” JJ says.

“Nice, right? My neighbour is a dick though. Always complaining that I leave my driveway light on in the middle of the night. As if I can even afford to that.”

JJ chuckles as he follows you inside. There’s an instant warm smell that hits him. JJ can’t seem to describe it in any other way than that it smells like you. The interior is safe and homely. The wallpaper and wooden floors pair nicely with the throw pillows and crystals and plants and flowers. Fairy lights are strung from end to end. A kitchen, open plan, feeds nicely into a sitting room. A dining table is tucked in the corner which seemingly functions more as a desk: books piled atop with sheets of paper strewn out. There’s a small corridor to the right and the walls are lined with framed pictures which JJ can’t make out from where he’s stood. He assumes it must lead to a bathroom and bedroom. It isn’t unlived in though. There’s a small pile of clothes which need ironing; they’re sat in a basket, next to the TV. Near the backdoor is an arts and crafts project of some kind strewn about on the floor in organised chaos, blocking the exit.

It's still early in the afternoon so you don’t bother flicking on a light, instead opting to soak in the last few hours of daylight before dusk. Kie used to compare you to a cat, basking in the sun and chasing the rays until there was none left to follow.

JJ closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“You can take your shoes off, if you want.”

“Alright,” he mumbles. He toes them off and kicks them to the side, amongst a pile of your own. He notices how there’s nobody else’s shoes there: just yours, and now his.

You pour out two glasses of orange juice and turn around, handing one to him. He takes it, lost in thought. It all feels surreal, stood here with you, after a five-year pause. When you go to the sofa to sit, he assumes he should follow. You sit on opposite ends. A part of him wonders why you haven’t stretched out your legs and dumped your feet in his lap. ‘These stink’, JJ jokes, poking your toes. You wiggle his fingers off. ‘Shut up, no they don’t.’ Force of habit: he always seems to get stuck on that past. Instead, you go to pull one of your legs up onto the sofa, and JJ flicks his eyes around the room another time. He sips his juice.

“So…” You start. “Any news?”

“Well, my dad died, so there’s that.”

You kick out your leg, aiming for his thigh. “Come on now. Be serious.”

“I am; you were at the funeral. Thought you might remember that,” JJ jokes.

Rolling your eyes mirthfully, you have a sip of your juice. The sun paints shapes on the coffee table, weaving through the thin curtains that line your window. It makes your skin glow, healthy and happy. He’s torn between staring at your face and remembering every detail of your features and avoiding you completely.

“When did you move in here? It’s nice.”

“About two years ago. Mom and dad are still at the old place. They’ve rented out my room though, for tourists and stuff.”

“That’s nice of them,” JJ snorts. “How’s your brother? Is he doing good?”

“He is. He’s at college actually. Graduates later this year.”

“The fuck? That’s so trippy,” JJ mumbles, almost to himself.

JJ can remember your brother as nothing more than a preteen, sulking around the house and begging for rides to soccer practice. Now he’s nearly got a whole ass degree. His eyes naturally fixate on the dining-table-come-desk in the corner.

“What do you do for work then?”

“I’m a teacher at Kildare high.”

Of course you are. JJ smiles, eyes still fixated on the table. It seems to prompt you to continue.

“It’s kinda weird sometimes cause some of the old farts still work there,” you say.

“Oh shit. Mr Rumble still there?” JJ asks, perking up a little, meeting your gaze.

You laugh. “Mr Rummel does still work there, yeah. Still likes to bring you up to me, actually.”

“Really? In what way?”

“Just likes to add the odd little ‘you remember when your boyfriend used to steal my stapler’ kinda things.”

JJ’s laugh is different this time. The word ‘boyfriend’ coming out of your mouth has his thoughts short circuiting. You glance down at your juice and swirl it around the cup.

“Anyway, it’s a pretty good gig. I like teaching, and I actually think I’m making a difference to some of these kids lives sometimes, which is sort of strange.”

“I bet you are. You were always good at helping people,” JJ tells you. Your smile turns soft.

“Thanks, JayJ.”

The nickname is like another sucker punch to the chest. JJ takes it like a champ. Washes it down with water; pretends there’s vodka in there somewhere.

“How are the others, then?” you ask. “How are they?”

“Good. Happy. John B and Sarah are expecting a kid soon.”

“Fuck off.”

“No joke,” JJ laughs. He leans back into the sofa, reclining in the soft throw pillows. It’s strange how easily relaxed he is in this new setting. “They’re debating between two names. Esmeralda or Eton.”

“No. Please God, tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish,” JJ snorts. “Not that I got much of a leg to stand on.”

“What do you mean?” you frown. You lean over and place your juice down on the coffee table.

“JJ? Kinda dumb name.” JJ has a sip of his own before mirroring your actions.

“Hardly. ‘John James’ is pretty proper sounding to me.”

“Meh.” JJ shrugs and props an arm up on the back of the sofa.

“What about Kie, and Pope?”

“Kie is on her environmentalist shit. Investing in rebuilding the coral and things. Pope is studying like crazy. Got a good job lined up too.”

“Only Pope would get a degree when he has literal gold in his savings,” you chuckle. “Didn’t you buy a shop too, or something?”

“A little surf shop with John B, yeah,” JJ nods, smiling proud. The surf shop is something that he would always take pride in. What felt like a pipedream was now his nine-to-five. “It’s doing real good, actually. We’re thinking about expanding.”

“Well, that’s good,” you say, nodding. The two of you lock eyes. Your smile holds steady. “I’m happy for you, JJ. Really.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you’re doing good, too.”

And now the polite small talk is over and the catch-up is done. It’s so bizarre seeing someone again after so long. So many things in life have passed – relationships, jobs, fights, conversations, achievements, ailments – but when you finally come to sum it up, it only takes ten minutes. Going through a heartbreak lasts for months, but then a year later and the relationship is summed up in a sentence or two. Time doesn’t only heal, but it also shrinks. It seems to have shrunk whatever used to exist between yourself and JJ too, as you both sit, searching for things to talk about which avoid the dark and ugly. Things which avoid the obvious.

“Do you think you’ll stick around in Kildare for a bit?”

“I don’t know. I ain't really thought about it,” JJ admits. “I weren't even sure if I was gonna go to the funeral.”

“Where are you staying tonight?” you wonder.

He laughs to himself and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. Probably just crash in my truck.”

“You’re loaded as fuck and you’re gonna crash in your truck?” you laugh. It isn’t mean when you say it. Just amused.  

“I don’t know. You don’t really get used to having money when you grew up without it. I still feel guilty buying a new pair of boots or something when my old ones ain't coming apart at the soles and shit.”

You nod. “That makes sense. Eminem had a similar thing.”

“Yeah, I’ve always thought me and Eminem were similar,” JJ deadpans.

It seems to strike well with you because you’re cracking up, laughing like he’s just told the best joke you’ve ever heard. He smiles. He always liked making you laugh. You have a horrendous laugh: truly awful. Cats in a bag being bashed against the wall-howling dog parade level of terrible. JJ loved it though. He used to tickle you just to hear it. Watching you now, head titled back, eyes shut and mouth agape, guffawing like a damn hyena…He feels like throwing up.

“Sorry, that…That was good,” you chuckle, wiping your eyes and catching your breath. “You were always good at making me laugh.”

“Fuck knows why,” JJ chuckles.

“Cause you’re funny,” you reply, as if its obvious. “You were always funny.”

It’s strange how the tone of the conversation rises and falls like a mountain range the longer the two of you sit on the sofa.

Your smile turns sombre, like when someone reminisces over a funny memory of their dead pet. Nice at first, amused, and then dampened with the reminder that those times have passed.

“It’s weird, to be honest. You’re so different now but you’re also still JJ.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. You glance around the room for a moment, as if you’d find the answer hidden in code on the spine of the books stacked on the windowsill. You look at him again. “Your face looks different.”

“It does?” JJ asks. He lifts a hand and strokes his jaw. He could do with a shave, he supposes. The vanity tries to bite through to ask how, but before he can, you’re talking again.

“You don’t drink,” you add, nodding to the orange juice still sat on the coffee table. “You’re quieter. Less…”

You seem to lose the words and so you gesture with your hands. Explosion.

“Calmer. Sadder, but not sad.”

“I can’t tell if these are good things or not,” JJ says, half-joking.

“You look at me different too.”

That makes him pause. He meets your eyes and holds your gaze, steady. The whole room shifts in a moment, from carefree catch-up to tense confrontation.

“Different?”

“Yeah. You look at me different.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” JJ mutters, going to reach for his drink.

“Yes, you do, JJ.”

Your smile is gone now. He can tell, catching it from his peripheral. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want to be in Kildare, doesn’t want to be in this house, in this room.

“You could at least acknowledge it, you know?”

“I don’t understand—”

“It’s actually more rude to not acknowledge it,” you snip.

“I’m not being rude, I’m just making conversation. You’re the one who’s got me on blast like you’re some God damn therapist,” JJ hits back, meeting your steely stare.

“You feel like you’re on blast?”

“I feel like I’m being observed, that’s for fucking sure.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe you are being observed, JJ,” you return, voice harsh and cutting like how a blade slices through paper. “Because it’s fucking weird having you back.”

“You’re the one that invited me here.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” you say.

JJ takes a breath and closes his eyes. The anger never went away, despite what you’ve just told him, he just got older. Got better at hiding it. Got enough money to try therapy. He takes another moment to breathe through it. Push it down his throat and back into his stomach and let it burn out in the acid.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly say. The venom is gone. “I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

He isn’t sure why – can’t pinpoint a perfect reason behind it – but behind his eyelids, JJ feels tears swell. Feels his lips twitch like a child when they hit their funny bone. His next breath in is shaky.

“JJ?”

“Just…”

His voice cracks and he clears it, shaking his head. He wants to open his eyes but he’s scared he’ll start crying, and he’s not doing that, not right now, not today. It’s not even you. You’d seen him cry before. Held him through it and patched him up; made him smile after the sadness. But he refuses to cry today because he can’t give his dad that satisfaction, even if it’s not about him. Opening his eyes, no tears escape. He reaches for the juice and downs it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he snaps. Then, softer, “please.”

You nod. There’s a quiet. Then, you move to stand and he closes his eyes again because it’s a struggle for you to stand. It’s a struggle. He rubs a hand over his mouth as if trying to shove the welling emotions back inside. There’s the sound of running water in the background as JJ tries to gather himself. The crack-crack-crack of a gas stove turning on and then the clink of metal on metal. You’ve put the kettle on, boiling water. There’s the tinker of porcelain mugs being taken off a stand. He seems to zone in on the peaceful sounds of you making coffee.

When you pour water into the mugs, he remembers the sound of your voice years back. ‘Did you know humans have the ability to hear the difference between hot and cold water being poured?’ ‘Why the fuck do you know that?’ ‘I don’t know. Just thought it was interesting.’

As the teaspoon repeatedly brushes against the inside of the cup as you stir in the instant coffee and milk, JJ finally feels all the emotions even out. As your footsteps make their way back over to him, you flick on the lamp by the front door. JJ opens his eyes to see you place a steaming cup of Joe in front of him on the coffee table. The mug is cute. It’s peach pink and says “I’m drinking tea instead of committing crimes” on the front in an innocent type-writer print.

“Cute mug.”

“Thanks. Thought of you.”

He silently laughs. You sit closer to him this time and your mug sits next to his. There’s no funny quote written across the paint. Then your hand is on his back, barely rubbing him, and it hits JJ that this is the first time you’ve touched him in five years.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” you tell him. “It ain’t my place to say any of that. Especially not today.”

“It’s true, though. That’s the kicker, ain’t it? That it’s true,” JJ replies.

He sighs and leans back, sitting upright once more. Your hand falls away and you clasp it in the other in your lap. He glances down and takes in your side profile. That stupid piece of hair has come lose again, fallen in your face. He distracts his twitching fingers by twisting one of his rings.

“I’m okay, you know,” you tell him. You look up and meet his eyes. Yours are damp with emotion, just like his were moments earlier. “I’m really okay.”

“You almost weren’t though.”

“Is that the problem? That I almost wasn’t?”

“It’s not the problem. You were never a problem.”

“I ain't mean it like that,” you tell him. You shake your head and JJ isn’t entirely sure why. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Am I the reason that you left Kildare?”

A bird calls outside and JJ seems to latch onto it like a lifeline. That question makes him feel stranded and scared. He wasn’t ready for it despite being fully prepared.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I…It ain't that simple.”

“Can you explain it to me, maybe?” you wonder. There’s no wrath to your tone anymore – no vendetta against him. There’s just curiosity and care, and this wonderful tenderness that JJ always associated with you from day one, when you offered him your cap to keep his hair off his face.

“I didn’t like the person I was in Kildare.”

“Okay,” you quietly say.

“I didn’t like how I acted. I didn’t like how reckless I was, and how I didn’t care who got hurt in the process.”

“Like me?”

JJ swallows. He doesn’t tear his eyes from yours though. “Yeah. Like you.”

“Okay,” you repeat, quieter still, nodding.

“After El Dorado, coming back here, everything felt tainted. I just…I needed to escape it. My dad and my past and…And you. I couldn’t face it. I felt like I’d caused some freak accident and had gotten away, and then I'd come back to face the aftermath and I just couldn’t stomach it. I just ran.”

You nod.

“I just ran,” he hears himself repeat. “And I’m not proud of it. Of any of it.”

“Okay.”

“And I wanted to fix things, but I didn’t know how. Every time I thought of coming back to Kildare, or picking up the phone, or going on Instagram and finding you…I just got so fucking scared, like a stupid shithead kid. I was so scared of becoming the guy I was again.”

And, again, you nod. When he doesn’t continue, you fill the space. “How long have you been sober?”

“The minute I left Kildare.”

“Fuck.”

“Cold turkey. It sucked ass. It still does. You don’t miss it any less. I miss the rage too, sometimes. I miss my dad sometimes, too. Miss him beating on me. How fucked up is that? That I miss him beating on me?”

You don’t seem to know what to say to that. You just look down at the coffee mugs and watch how the steam is slowly but surely going away.

“I am sorry. I know that ain't worth anything, but I am sorry.”

“It is worth something.” You clear your throat, voice coming out stronger when you say, “It’s worth everything.”

Your smile comes back, timid and tiny. You meet eyes for the millionth time that night.

“It feels like I’ve been ready for you to come back, for so long, and now you’re actually here and…I don’t even know where to start.” He watches your tongue dart out and wet your lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to look so good.”

“Disappointed?”

“Massively. I would have got my ass in the gym more if I knew it was a Goddamn competition.”

JJ smiles. “You were always a sore loser.”

“Says you,” you snort.

There’s another peak in the conversation after the long slug of the last dip. It’s so bizarre. So wonderfully bizarre.

“I’m proud of you, for getting sober. Do you feel better for it?”

“Depends.”

“Well, you look better for it,” you say.

“You’re drooling, I think,” JJ teases, reaching a finger out to prod your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, you mirthfully bat his hand away. “You’re hallucinating.”

“Well, withdrawal does crazy things,” he quips back.

You chuckle and shake your head. “I missed you like crazy.”

“I miss you too.”

Your lips part a little with that. Miss. You seem to hesitate to hold his gaze then, like it’s too intense. JJ feels as though he can see every emotion flash across your face in a second, like watching a car crash in slow motion. Surprise, shock, joy, anger, then sadness. It’s that sadness that hammers hard when you speak, voice weak.

“You left without saying anything, JJ. For five years. You just left me.”

“Don’t make it sound like that. Like I abandoned you.”

“But you did,” you whisper. The tears are back. You’ve both fallen from the top of the mountain. “You abandoned me.”

“You don’t get it,” JJ replies, voice suddenly thick.

“I was in it with you.”

“You didn’t see it,” JJ forces out. His tears are falling: they didn’t wait this time. “You didn’t see how it looked – how you looked. You looked so fucking fragile and tiny and small and your leg was so bent and twisted and black – it was black – and I thought you were already dead.”

Your breathing is shaky and broken. The two of you sit on your sofa in the sunset, eyes locked, tears streaming, chests heaving like you’ve run a marathon. The word ‘dead’ hangs in the air and haunts the room.

“I thought you were dead, and I thought it was because of me.”

“Do you hate me for it?”

“Why the fuck would I—”

“Because I didn’t die? Do you hate me for it?”

JJ blinks back his bewilderment. He physically shifts back in his seat, as if you just spat in his face. Horrified, he tells you, “Of course I don’t. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because I’m still here, JJ. But you acted like I wasn’t for five years. You didn’t even come see me in the hospital. Didn’t sit with me in the ambulance. Hell, you can’t even look at my leg now! You think I didn’t notice? At the graveyard, and now. You think I can’t see it on your face?”

JJ whispers your name in a tearful plea. Stop.

“I’m still here, JJ. And I invited you back here, and I went to the funeral, because I wanted to see you.”

“To show me what I did?” JJ asks, harsher than needed.

You hold his gaze. “To show you I’m okay.”

He shakes his head, insistent. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t been drinking and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have never let you jump off the bike like that. It was fucking reckless and stupid and I would never, ever do it again. It was all my fault.”

“I don’t care who’s fault it was, JJ,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out and traces his cheek and jaw, and he can’t help but lean into your warm touch. There you sit, cradling his face as if he was the victim in this whole thing. It calms him almost immediately. “Nobody forced me on that bike. Nobody forced me to jump, not even you.”

“I shouldn’t have let you.”

“JJ,” you sigh.

He closes his eyes as you shift in your spot, and somehow you end up with your forehead pressed against his. He reaches out one of his hands for the other of yours that rests in your lap and he clenches it, tight. You’re both still crying but they’re silent tears now.

“I forgive you, JJ.”

He shakes his head whilst you nod.

“Yes, I do, I forgive you. I always have. You know why?”

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.

“Because you were dealt the shitest hand I’ve ever known and look who you are. You’re sober, and you're healthy, and you have loving friends and a steady income and a job which you love, and a boathouse, and so much of your life left. And you didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t kill me, JJ. You didn’t even lose me.”

“I don’t—”

“We’re more than our mistakes.”

When JJ opens his eyes, you pull back enough to let him meet your gaze. As if you know what he’s about to ask, you smile. That smile…JJ feels like he’s coming home.

“You’re more than your mistakes, JJ.”

The moment his lips slot against yours, tentative and hesitant, like a bird exploring new ground for the first time, he’s home. There’s hardly a moment of reluctance, of confusion and mismatch from the time passed, before you’re kissing him back. The softness of your lips against his and the brush of your tongue. The sigh in your voice and the tilt of your head. It’s so seamless and sweet and safe. JJ feels safe here, with you. He feels like all the shit doesn’t matter. He feels like sober might actually be synonymous with happiness, with you. When he lies you down on the sofa, JJ doesn’t want to leave this room, this house, or Kildare. He wants to stay here, worshipping you, breathing you in until you consume all of his senses, because after five years, nothing has made him feel as alive as this. As you.

Everything is a wonderful illusion of being rushed and well-paced all at once. He revels in the way your skin gives gently beneath the scrape of his teeth. When he sucks at your throat, the skin is so delicate, and this close to you JJ can smell nothing but your perfume. He wants to fucking drown in it.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he pants. You’re gasping too. Fingers sliding through his hair, down his sides, along his face.

“I missed you,” you whine.

And that phrase gets repeated over and over like a mantra or a prayer. He hears himself whispering it against your skin with every button he undoes on your blouse. Basks in the sound of your voice, older and mature but still you, as you say it whilst pushing his dress shirt off his shoulder.

There’s a stalling pause when his fingers finish tracing down your stomach to your pants. You seem to notice it. Your hand comes to his face and thumbs at his cheek. They’re still sticky from dried tears.

“JJ,” you whisper, coaxing his attention back to your face. You’re glowing. You’re happy, you’re healthy, and you’re here. “It’s okay.” Nodding, you repeat. “It’s okay.”

Then, he watches your own fingers land on the button of your pants, slowly undoing it. Then the other and the third until they’re lose. He watches you wriggle out of them, pulling them down, struggling somewhat from the tight position on the sofa. Watches the scars emerge, faint but clear, and how they grow and spread like ivy on the side of a house. They merge with the cellulite and stretch marks. With a random bruise you must’ve gotten from hitting your leg on the table the other day. They’re a part of you – plain and simple. At the knee, there’s the connection for your prosthetic right leg. Once your trousers are off, JJ finds himself reaching out to touch it. This thing that he was partly responsible for, this marvel of medicine, the reason you can walk. He loves it and hates it desperately all at once. Glancing back up to your face, you’re watching him just as carefully as he was watching you. But you’re smiling.

“You’re okay,” JJ finds himself saying quietly. Because you are. You’re here, laying almost bare before him, just like you had years before.

“It’s rude to make a girl wait, JJ,” you tease.

With that, JJ’s smile is blossoming back like the returning of spring flowers following a brutal winter. He leans forward and catches himself above you with his arms, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen in the world. Your left leg rubs at his calf, still covered by his trousers, and you giggle against his mouth.

“Fuck, I missed this,” you say. “I missed you.”

“How much?”

“So much,” you say.

“Oh yeah? What’d you miss?” JJ persists, kissing down your neck.

“Your mouth,” you say through a moan. His hands slip behind your back and unclasp your bra. You arch your back enough for him to tug it off.

“My mouth?” he wonders, breathing it against your skin. You’re practically writhing. JJ laughs. “What about my mouth?”

“Don’t be a jackass, JJ,” you mutter.

“You want my mouth?”

“Yes,” you quietly beg.

“You do?” he checks, kissing over your breast, sucking at your nipple. “Where do you want it?”

“You fucking know where,” you sigh, impatience shining through.

He grins at the sudden hitch of your moan as he softly nips at the sensitive skin around your nipple. Then he’s kissing down your stomach until finally his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He slowly, tauntingly, pulls them down. You kick them off at the ankles, a clear act of frustration, and he bites back his laugh.

“What? Here?” JJ plants a kiss to your hipbone. “You want my mouth here? Or…”

Another kiss, to your pelvic bone.

“Here?”

“Fuck you, Maybank.”

“You wanna?”

“I swear to fucking God,” you huff, laughing through the annoyance.

With that, JJ settles himself between your legs and praises you like you deserve to be. The noises you make are downright evil, considering he can do nothing about it and has to hold it together. You taste so familiar on his tongue.

“Fucking missed you,” he groans against you.

When he sucks on your clit, your hands latch into his hair. Your back is arching and you’re gasping and panting and desperate, and JJ feels like a young God. Pulling back, he slips a finger into your hole and it welcomes him so easily. He cusses at how wet you are.

“Come on baby. Come on, I know you’re close.”

The tells of your body haven’t changed since the last time you two were in this position. The way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan when you fall over the edge is so surreal to see after five years apart. He feels you spasms around him and basks in the scratch of your nails against his scalp as you try to ground yourself. He hardly has time to suck his fingers clean before your pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him stupid.

“Fucking missed you,” you repeat against his mouth, making him laugh. “Nobody fucks me as good as you.”

“Jesus Christ, you can’t say shit like that,” JJ chuckles. “Won’t last.”

“Don’t care,” you say. “Only thing bigger than your ego is your dick.”

JJ can’t help but laugh at that. He loves your giggles in response. And then your hands are shoving at his trousers and the humour is gone, replaced with nothing but raw lust and desperation. There’s nothing performative about it, when the two of you hurry to strip his clothes away as soon as possible. He takes note to get his socks off. You’d always had a weird thing about it, sex in socks, and nothing was going to taint this night. Not after so long.

Being inside you…JJ missed it more than all the alcohol and weed in the world. Nothing compared to the feeling of you clenching around him. The vice of your leg hitched up and over his back as he grips into your thigh, mean and firm, perfecting the angle. The senseless, endless whines falling from your agape mouth, eyes closed tight, lost in the feeling of it. JJ wants nothing to be less than perfect for you, for this. Every stroke, every kiss, every clench of his fingers…it all has to be perfect. He knows when you’re close and he’s more than fucking relieved. It’s taking everything in him not to come. He needs you to fall over the edge first.

“Do the thing,” you whine. “Do the thing, John.”

With that, JJ remembers five years back, to late nights and later mornings spent rolling in bed with you. He bites into his lip, holding back his shit-eating grin as the memories flood back, and he leans forward to your ear. Gently taking the lobe within his teeth, he croons into the shell of your ear.

“That’s my good fucking girl.”

And finally, you fall apart, taking JJ with you like you always would.

When the high finally passes and the endorphins settle down, the two of you are laying on the sofa, only covered by a throw blanket JJ had dragged down from the back of the sofa. You’ve somehow shuffled so you’re laying mostly atop of him. His arms are locked around your damp stomach like a vice, nose nestled into your hair, just behind your ear, breathing you in with every inhale.

“Will you stay in Kildare, just for a short while? For me?”

JJ wants to laugh but he knows how wrong that would be in this moment. The humour doesn’t come from the question, but from the notion that he’d leave after finally having you back in his life, safe and happy, after five long years.

“Anything,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your hair. Anything for you.

-

“You look like shit by the way,” JJ says.

His hands are warm in his cargo pant pockets. Head tilted down and gaze steady, he sighs.

“Guess you didn’t have chance to clean up though, right?”

Shockingly, the gravestone says nothing back. Well, says nothing asides form Luke Maybank in barely legible font.

It still feels surreal, that his dad is gone. That they’d never remedy anything, or even attempt to fix their relationship. That JJ wouldn’t be able to face him and show him what he’d become. How he’d risen past it all and grown from the pain and the agony. That he’d taken the shitty hand that he was dealt and turned it into nothing but flushes and full houses. That he hadn’t grown into a petty criminal or a tax-evading lowlife, but a strong, good-willed, well-intentioned man. The thought, bittersweet at heart, makes him smile.

“I’m happy dad. I know you probably hate that, being dead and all, but I am.”

As if on cue, there’s the high pitch giggles from afar that catch JJ’s attention. He glances over to spot you and your wonderful mini-you, sitting on your shoulders, waving at him. He waves back, small and short, smiling.

“I’m glad you never met her,” JJ tells his dad, never tearing his eyes away from the pair of you. You ease her off your shoulders and take her hand, pointing to a small bed of daffodils. “I was so scared I’d be bad at this. I was so scared that I’d be like you.”

She’s so fragile as she picks a flower free from the bunch, holding it by the stem, up to you. You nod and presumably smile in approval.

“But I’ll never be like you. She’ll never know what it feels like to live in fear,” JJ states, firmly. He looks back down to the grave. “I’m not your mistakes, and I’m not mine.”

He lowers to a squat and wipes some of the dirt off the stone, revealing the dates. “Happy birthday, dad. You suck, and I hope you’re finally at peace.”

“Daddy, daddy…”

There’s an insistent tug at his jacket sleeve. JJ smiles and looks down at the best mistake he ever made. Mistake is a strong word. ‘Oops, I think is better’, you’d said when you first showed him the pregnancy test.

“What’s up, bub?”

“I found this flower. Can I give it to papa?”

JJ takes the daffodil and glances to the grave. A brief moment of anger passes over him like the breeze of winter. He doesn’t deserve this. He isn’t your papa. I’m glad he’s dead. But he closes his eyes and breathes. Your hand squeezing gently at his shoulder tells him you’re there. It helps ground him.

“Yeah, bub. I think that’d be nice,” he smiles, handing it back.

She giggles as she puts it on the grass just before the stone. Her laughter is brighter and louder still when JJ scoops her up as he stands, looping her around him until she’s a backpack.

“You wanna get ice cream?”

“Hell yeah,” you whoop.

“Hell yeah!” mini-you copies. JJ laughs.

“Alrighty, lets go.”

As the three of you make the small walk back to the car, you intertwine your fingers with JJ’s, holding his hand tight and secure. JJ takes one last glance back at the gravestone. It all began here, in a way, the re-introduction to a life he thought he’d lost. Perhaps the nicest thing JJ’s dad ever did, the kindest act he ever performed, was dying. Perhaps that was his way of paying him back for all the crap he gave.

“Hey.”

JJ glances down at you.

“You okay?”

He smiles. Then, he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

Everything is going to be okay.

[vroomvroommbtch]

Only us - DR x fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: It only took Daniel four years to ask that question, but it was worth the wait.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!OC

Warnings: Fluff all over the place.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: How are we feeling after yesterday, DR girlies?! One Monday not being sad is a tiny victory so I take it 😌 Here some fluffy stuff to enjoy on this Halloween day. Now I can go back to my regular schedule of watching The Addams Family movies again and again. ANYWAY, let me know what u think? Send me asks if u want? Thanks for the likes and love, kiddos. Means the world. Kay see ya bye 🫰🏻

---

Only us.

-

April 2022.

Having one second of silence when they were in Australia was something nearly impossible, but Jas loved it. She loved the mess that included being there. She loved the noise that included being surrounded by family and friends, so Jas was nothing but happy. Spending some days at the farm in Perth was like a breeze of fresh air that they all needed, but especially Daniel. Plus, the fact that the race in Melbourne had quite a decent result was a big plus, so things were good, at least for those weeks.

With yet again another season that started poorly and another car that wasn't as fast as Daniel was promised, things weren't looking good, but none of that really mattered when they were home. All they cared about was spending time with their families. Not a race, a CEO, a car or a team principal was gonna ruin the happiness that gave Jas seeing Daniel with his parents and sister. But especially, nothing was going to ruin the joy that brought them watching Olivia spend time with their family, and especially watching her play with her cousins. Listening to Isaac, Isabella and Olivia giggle together was something too pure, too magical and too perfect, and nobody in the world was going to ruin that.

But even in the middle of the beautiful mess and noise, her tiny little family of three always found a way to spend some time being just them. It didn't happen often all things considered, but Jas loved the little moments that included just her, Olivia and Daniel. They were pretty counted, so she cherished every single one of them, even if they included dirty diapers.

While everyone was chatting in the living room and Aoife, Grace and Esme were starting to make dinner, Jas was in their room, dealing with a change of diapers, which was probably her less favorite part of being a mom and having a baby. But as she was cleaning and drying Olivia, two arms suddenly hugged her back. She couldn't help but smile as she felt Daniel place kiss after kiss against her head, shoulders and neck, making her laugh like a little happy girl. That was the effect Daniel had on her since they met, but it all became somehow bigger since Olivia was born. If Jas loved Daniel before, she loved him a hundred times more since she saw him turning into a dad. She felt in love with him again and again and again every single time she saw him with their daughter, and that day wasn't different.

"You smell nice" Jas smiled, looking over her shoulder for a second as she stroked Olivia's tummy with her fingers. "Not like you, you stinky little butt. You need a shower after dinner, you hear me? Well get you a nice bubble bath" Jas said to her daughter, which she answered with some cooing and a big toothless smile.

"I just took a shower but that bubble bath thing sounds like something mom and dad should do tonight too" Daniel suggested, placing one last kiss right on Jas's temple before he moved to her side to look at Olivia, but still hugging Jas with his arm around her waist. "I'm sure Maggie and Michael won't mind looking after her for a night"

Jas couldn't help but giggle when she heard her sister and Michael's names coming from Daniel. She couldn't help but laugh not because they wouldn't want to take care of Olivia like they did countless times, but because she imagined they were going to be kind of busy that night. "You mean Michael and Maggie the ones that mysteriously left in a boogie like two hours ago? I don't think so, babe"

"Remind me again why the hell they say they're on a break if they're fucking around like mad rabbits anyway?"

That was a very nice question that Jas has been asking herself again and again, but she couldn't really find an answer. Plus, she didn't want to mention the subject in front of Maggie, knowing it was nothing but delicate to bring that up. She really couldn't bring it up in front of Michael either because his answer was always the same 'We're trying to make it work', but Jas doubted it. So not being able to talk to them, they all just looked away when Maggie and Michael were basically undressing each other with just one look. Or in this case when they disappeared on the farm, not really giving any explanation of where they were going. "Don't remind me what my little sister and my friend does. And I don't know. It's their thing"

"We can always ask your parents. Or mine" he proposed, looking down at Olivia as Jas made her laugh and move her adorable tiny legs in the process. "What's so funny, uh? Mum's tickling you, baby girl?"

And like any other day, Jas couldn't help but stay looking at the picture in front of her with a smile on her face. Daniel tickling Olivia's tummy with his fingers to make her giggle even more was just the most beautiful thing in the world. Hearing her cute little giggles was music to their ears. See the way her husband and daughter looked at each other was simply everything Jas ever wanted, so it made her heart be filled with nothing but happiness. And to see Daniel being a dad was something difficult to put into words. The way his whole face changed and lightened up when he was with Olivia was magical. The way his eyes seemed to spark and the way his smile just grew bigger was incredible and it all just made Jas melt of love and happiness.

"Wanna spend the night with grandma and grandpa? Wanna do that so mum and dad can have a little bit of fun sleeping tonight?" Jas asked Olivia while she secured a new diaper around her tummy. And once it was done, Jas took the chance to grab her chubby perfect legs to kiss first her right feet and then the left. "You've the most adorable tiny baby foot in the world! They're like paidrín. Look at those fingers!"

"We can sleep but maybe also we can give her a sibling" Daniel whispered, as if their three months old daughter was able to understand what they were saying.

Jas knew Daniel's suggesting was nothing but a joke, but she also knew that deep down it wasn't just a joke. They wanted more than one kid, they wanted at least one more sibling for Olivia and then maybe another one because three was the magic number in their home, but timing was far from right. Olivia came in whenever she wanted and it's magical how she ended up picking the perfect timing to show up in the lives. She appeared when they needed her the most, and for that everyone in their family was thankful and happy but for the next one they wanted to do things right. They talked about it when Jas was pregnant and again when Olivia was born, so no matter how badly they wanted to perpetuate the Ricciardo name, they were going to wait for the right timing for their next Baby Badger.

"Ah, no so fast cowboy. Not till she's at least two or three. We can barely survive with one" Jas reminded him, standing straight to give Daniel a loving kiss on his lips. "It'll come, you know that, right?"

"I know. We can practice some meanwhile" he affirmed, kissing Jas head once again. "Can I?" he wondered, pointing to the onesie that was waiting right besides Olivia.

With a smile and a fast kiss on his lips, Jas left Daniel took care of putting Olivia's clean onesie on her body. She didn't say a thing as she looked at them, too scared to ruin the moment. With the crazy, busy schedule he had, there were counted days Daniel could dedicate his full time to being a dad. There was always some event with sponsors, there was always a meeting, there was always some publicity thing to do, especially when they were in Australia. But on the days that he was free, he would put his heart and soul into it. From changing dirty diapers and clothes, making bath times a complete mess and tummy time as fun as possible to inventing the most ridiculous stories, warm perfectly her bottles or sing lullabies absolutely out of tune, Daniel wanted to do every single thing that would include Olivia. They knew it was the most normal thing for a dad to do, but Jas never complained when she was the one taking care of it weekend after weekend. She never complained when she was the one getting up in the middle of the night or when she had to take care both of an exhausted Daniel and a sleepy Olivia. It was her job as a mom and his partner, so she did it all with a happy smile on her face, thanking her lucky stars for having her wonderful family by her side.

But the days that she got lucky to see Daniel being a full-time dad were her favorite ones. The constant happy smile on his face, the constant shine on his eyes, but especially the constant relaxed state he was it was something amazing to see. Since they met, people used to say nothing and nobody made Daniel smile as Jas did, but Olivia replaced her. Since she was born nobody made Daniel smile as much as their baby girl, but Jas was more than happy to give that place to their daughter. She couldn't blame him because nothing made her smile more than Olivia.

As Daniel carefully dressed Olivia while tickling her, Jas just watched them with a smile on her face, just as big as the one on Daniel's face or as the toothless grin on Olivia's face. She just looked in silence, letting them do their thing and have another one of their moments.

"Remember what I said to Michael the night we met?" Daniel suddenly asked, buttoning the green material in the front part of the onesie.

"You told him you had no idea who I was but you were going to marry me. But he told you that first you needed to talk to me" she remembered, smiling even more at the memory. "I mean, first you stuttered and then your tried to charm me with the whole Enchanté thing, but then you got to talk"

Even after four years Jas could remember that night perfectly. It felt like it was yesterday when she was sitting on the side, talking with the girls as she saw Michael walking up to them. It felt like no time had passed since that handsome tall man with Australian accent apologized for interrupting them, saying that his stupid friend was tongue tied and dying to know if he could invite her a drink. It felt like it was just some hours ago since Jas smiled all happy as she was trying to act cool and chill when in reality she was dying because she couldn't stop looking at Daniel since they walked in. Sometimes, and even when they already had a daughter and a life together, it felt like they were the same kids. Even four years older and with shorter curls, somehow it felt like no time passed for the Daniel who got all blushed as soon as she started speaking French, making him think he fucked up with the Enchanté trick.

Everything that happened between them was like a weird fairytale and every single day since that night Jas thanked her lucky stars for meeting Daniel, for them falling in love but also for them getting stuck together side by side on good and bad days. From Monaco to Dublin to London to Perth and the rest of the world, Jas got to live her dream life all thanks to the man of her dreams, so she was nothing but thankful to whatever put them together, that also included Michael for getting up and going to talk to her back then.

"You really had to be completely perfect and talk fluid French. And Italian and Irish. Beauty and brains that's why I was so convinced there was no way you would ever want to leave with me. Thank God you did" he affirmed, placing one last kiss over Olivia's forehead, making her giggle. "Thank God your mom was drunk enough to ask me if I wanted to leave with her" he stated, grabbing Olivia in his arms and holding her against his chest.

But the second that Olivia saw Jas, a sad pout appeared in her face which meant he wanted to go with her. "What's us with you? You missed mum in the six seconds she was away?" Jas asked Olivia, who answered with some baby sounds, as she placed her tiny hands in her mom's face as soon as Jas grabbed Olivia in her arms. "Yeah? I missed you too. I always miss you when you ain't around. You're my práta, right? You're our paidrín"

"How many words you Irish people have to say potato? Cause I feel there's a new one every single time you speak" Daniel wondered moving his arms around Jas' waist, getting as close as possible to his girls.

"Ninety. Every single one means something different" she explained with a little shrug. In the four years they had been together Daniel really tried to learn some words in Irish, but it was just simply impossible. The only thing he could remember was how to say 'I love you' because Jas would say it to him and Olivia all the time but then that was it. But after four years Jas wasn't really surprised, especially when he barely knew how to talk a few worlds in French after a decade of living in Monaco. "Wanna go back to the living room?"

"In a minute. Can I talk to you about something first?"

"Alright. Now I'm scared. What did we do?" Jas asked, looking up at her boyfriend who was suddenly serious. That was more than rare considering it was Daniel and he was with them. Jas knew there was no way something was wrong between them and Dan promised not to talk about work for the rest of the week, but she could see how something in his eyes was eating him.

"You did nothing wrong. All's good" he promised, kissing her lips to then rest their foreheads together. "You know how much I love you, right?"

"I do know. I love you too. We both love you" she whispered, suddenly getting emotional. She knew. Clearly, Jas knew. For four years all Daniel did was to show her day by day how much he loved her. In every single way he could find, Daniel showed Jas his love for her and then for their family. She could have doubts about everything in her life, even herself, but never in her life she would have doubts about Daniel and their love. She would never do that, especially not when the proof of their love was right in their arms. "What's going on, babe?"

"I just- I love you. I love you so fucking much, baby. I'm the luckiest man in the world cause you're my girls. I see you every day with our baby and then I see you carrying our family with so much love while you also handle all the shit we have around us and I still don't know how you do it. You've so much on your plate while being pregnant but you keep holding all- holding me up in the worst days. I really have no idea what I would've done without you last year. I really don't know how I would've get through it if it wasn't for you there by my side. I really don't know what I did to deserve you, J. I've no fucking idea but I want you to know I don't take anything from granted. Especially not you and her" he explained, big brown eyes looking down at her, shining with love and adoration, all while he stroked her cheek with his right hand.  

"I know you don't take anything from granted, especially not us. I know you, Dan, so you don't have to say anything" she whispered, holding Olivia with just one of her arms to place the other one against Daniel's heart. "I told you hundred times, I'd do it hundred times and I mean it"

"Actually I do have something else to say. You know I don't regret things in my life, but there's one thing I do regret not doing years ago. I like to think it didn't happen cause it was the wrong time. I should've done it earlier but then pandemic fucked us all over and you were right when you told me we should wait to be able to celebrate with our family. Besides last year was shit and then this one decided it was her time to shine" he smiled, looking at Olivia and kissing her tiny nose fast to keep talking. "I also know its pretty stupid to do it now cause the question's gonna sound stupid considering there's no better bound that our baby girl. Also I wanted to do it more special and remarkable but I can't fucking wait. I love you, Jas. I love you since the moment I saw you and I love how you always leave me speechless by just looking at me. You leave me so speechless that I had all this thing prepared in my head and now its all gone cause you're looking at me and I can't with those brown eyes. I love you so I'm just gonna-"  

And right there in the middle of their bedroom, Daniel kneeled right in front of her, all while he took a little red box out of the pocket of his shorts. Jas knew it was gonna happen one day. She knew Daniel wanted to marry her just as badly as she wanted to marry him. They knew it wasn't really necessary, they knew it was just a silly paper and that none of that was gonna change their relationship, but they wanted it. Even when he had been saying for years that Jas was his wife, he was dying to make it official, so there he was, finally ready to make it.

"Danny, babe, you don't have to…" Jas whispered, grabbing Olivia with one arm as she reached down to stroke Daniel's cheek while tears started to stream down her face.

"Let me. Please, just let me" he begged, kissing her palm before he grabbed her hand in his. "I love you, Jas. I love so much it's insane. And I know the last four years weren't a walk in the park and they probably haven't been what your expected. I'm wide aware you deserve more, you both deserve more and better. You deserve a better husband and a better dad, but I promise I'll do better for you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I just- I've no idea what's gonna happen in future, but all I know its I wanna keep living with you by my side. None of it will ever make sense without you so, would you please, please finally marry me, babe?"

In the middle of the pandemic and during one of her lower days, Daniel called her like he normally did every day. He was away working in X and she knew he was tired, she could see all over his face how tired he really was after a day of practice and quali. But even with all that, Daniel called to cheer her up. With some cute compliments and words, Daniel made her smile like nobody could. Jas had no idea how that turned into wedding talk. She had no idea how they ended up talking about their plans, but suddenly Daniel was confessing more than he should have. He was planning to do it some day that year but all his plans got ruined before he could even get a ring. He didn't want to ask while they were locked and away from their families and friends. He didn't want to do it without being able to celebrate with them. He wanted to wait, but that day he was so tired and she was so sad he almost did it. He was about to drop the question right there over the phone, but Jas stopped him. Promising there was nothing she wanted most than to marry him, Jas begged Daniel to not ask. Not when she couldn't hug him, not when their families were away, not when the whole world was a disaster.

But the thing that she asked for was a specific detail about the ring. Since he didn't buy it just yet, Jas told him that whatever he decided to do with the ring was his thing, but she wanted it to have three stones. She didn't care about color, size or karats, she just wanted three. 'I want you in everything, but especially in my ring, you heard me?' were her exact words over the phone, which made Daniel laugh as he promised he was going to make it happen. But then the pandemic and the lockdown came and went, they couldn't go to Perth, then the pregnancy and Olivia and everything in between. But after two years, an insane amount of kilometers, places, laughs, tears, love and a baby girl, there was Daniel kneeling in front of her with the most beautiful ring she ever saw. On a silver band there was an oval cut red garnet that was nothing but breathtaking, and on the side as accent stones were two smallest diamonds. It was just like she wanted. It was exactly as she had dreamed. 

"Get up, grá" she stated, kissing Olivia's head as she waited for Daniel. She didn't need any of that. She didn't need him kneeling in front of her, or a big proposal, she just wanted the love of her life in front of her as she gave him an answer. She just wanted him and that's exactly what she got when suddenly he was back on his feet, stroking her cheek carefully to clean her wet cheeks. "I knew I was gonna marry you when you said 'Enchanté' the night we met. And I knew it again when I woke up by your side. I've known it for the last four years. I've been dying to marry you four years and there's nothing I want more than being your Mrs. Ricciardo, so of course I'm marrying you"

They had to be more than careful because Olivia was right in the middle of them, but the way Daniel kissed her was just the most perfect and beautiful thing in the world. They were just two giggly messes, trying to not smile as they kissed, but it was impossible. They both were so damn happy to finally be doing this that they just couldn't help it. There was nothing more Jas could ask for than being with Daniel and Olivia for such a moment, so she was all smiles and giggles as Daniel hugged them. "You've been my Mrs. Ricciardo since day one, princess"

"And I'm the luckiest for that"

"You're really marrying me?" Daniel asked again, double checking as he kissed her head during their hug.

"Of course I'm marrying you, sunshine" Jas insisted, tiptoeing to give him a short kiss. But as soon as she did, she could hear such a soft, adorable little giggle coming from Olivia, who was looking at both of them. "And I think she's happy about mum and dad finally doing it"

"I think she would be happier seeing mommy wearing this" Daniel affirmed, taking the ring outside the box and then grabbing Jas' hand. She shouldn't be surprised about it at all, but it fitted perfectly. It somehow felt like a dream when he grabbed her hand and put the ring in the right finger of her left hand. It felt like a dream the fact that Daniel asked her to marry him, especially with their daughter there. It felt like a dream to have both of them by her side, so like every day, Jas couldn't help but mentally thank all her lucky stars for them.

"You designed it, didn't you? Cause that's her birthstone" Jas pointed out, looking at her hand and its new acquisition, still not believing how beautiful it is.

But her favorite thing was the red garnet. It wasn't just her favorite color but also Olivia's birthstone, so Jas was absolutely happy that Daniel decided to leave behind the common engagement ring and go for something different.

"I did design it. I spent a lot of time looking for the perfect one and it seemed like it didn't exist. Nothing was good enough, that's why it took me so long. Besides I can give you diamonds any other day, that's why I thought this was way cooler. This way you can have us always with you" he explained, holding her hand to kiss her finger and the new shiny stone decorating it. "Thank you. For saying yes, for her and for everything"

"Don't thank me. It's my thing to look out for you and specially to love you. Its what I do best and its my favorite thing to do. Wouldn't change it for the world. Wouldn't change you for the world. We said its us forever, so I'm here to make it happen" Jas smiled, remembering the promise they made again and again, especially in the worst of the days.

Whatever happened, it was gonna be them forever. Two or three or whatever the number of their little family was going to end up being, it was them and that was the important thing. As long as they had each other everything was gonna be alright. That's what Jas promised to Daniel again and again, especially on the worst days when he needed a reminder that they were gonna be together no matter what happened in his racing career.

"Its us forever" he repeated, kissing her once again. But before Daniel could kiss his future wife once again, a little incoherent cooing interrupted them, making them look at Olivia. "Did you hear that? Mum and dad are finally getting married!" Daniel exclaimed, kissing Olivia's cheek, making her laugh with the scratching of his stubble against her skin.

And Jas wanted to make a joke, saying it was about damn time for him to ask her, but she decided to keep it for later. After all, she had the rest of the night and the rest of her life to do it.

---

Taglist

@amsofftrack @d0ntjudgemy50shades @a-distantdreamer​

[eoieopda]

a personal update, which is mostly just me needing somewhere to put my thoughts ✨

i mentioned two weeks ago that my grandmother’s hospice nurse gave us (essentially) a two-week warning. she turned out to be an oracle because, apart from a two-day spread, she was spot-on. my grandmother died friday morning while i was getting ready for work — while i was on here, making jokes about “seven”, no less. part of me thinks she waited until we were able to find joy amidst all the pre-grief, just to be sure that we could. that, and she held out a few extra hours until it was no longer my cousin’s birthday — which feels purposeful because she always said she’d miss an event of her grandkids’ “over her dead body”. on brand until the end, my bubbe 💕

the last three weeks were among the worst i’ve ever experienced. i’d go so far as to say they were nightmarish, honestly. however, all of the death i’d experienced in my life before was sudden; with her, i got time. i got to hold the hand of the person who’d been there for me from the beginning and walk with them to the end. i got to say everything i needed to, and i got to listen, too. as horrific as the day-to-day was, i think it’s a privilege to have had someone i loved enough to endure that for without a second thought.

because we’re jewish, the burial/mourning process is a quicker turn-around than most non-jewish people experience. her funeral was this morning because yesterday was the sabbath, and it was beautiful, albeit rainy. i’m not “religious” by any means, but these particular cultural practices and the symbolism behind them really make a bell ring in me, way deep down. i’m grateful for that. i’m also grateful for all of the unexpected laughter my family was able to find once the other shoe did finally drop. it’s kind of amazing how instantaneously lighter the air felt when we knew she wasn’t suffering anymore, even though we’re all fucking sad that she’s not physically with us anymore.

all that to say: i’m okay. i will be okay. and i’m so, so, so thankful for the people i’ve met on here that contribute to my being okay. seriously, having this outlet to be stupid and laugh has helped more than i can say. knowing that there are people out there that i have never and will never meet — some of whom i’d never talked to before — who popped by my DMs to check in on me has been an incredible reminder that there’s so much good to be found in spaces like this.

i love you. thank you.

💕

[effervescentdragon]

Re your interviewers not even sure what to ask anymore ask, that’s me but with the fandom lol. I’m literally this close to just starting to translate all of Toto’s German interviews just to feel like there is Any reason for me to still be here doing Stuff in this fandom, like what am I doing, exactly? Make predictable guesses as to who’s gonna win, only get surprised by DNFs and engine failures and battling in the mid-field, have my grandpa tell me ‘the races have really been going downhill’ and log off??

i posted sth about jude bellinghams dick game on insta on main yday and og bff asked me what im compensating for w footie posting and should he be worried abt my mental state and i said f1, because im just not incentivised to watch it anymore at the moment? im hoping it changes when races stop being so early - i am sad i missed nico's commentary the most tbh. i guess fandoms come and go and things get more and less interesting but the thing for me is - if im not enjoying it, i won't make myself watch/read/do it just because i've made it my Thing. i can have many Things. we all can. i think, when something doesn't bring joy, its good to step back. give yourself time. f1 will be there. 🫂

i also think there is this insidious thing that you have to be "productive" in a fandom, that you have to do, be doing something to justify your presence in it. i know i've felt off because im not churning out 10 ficlets a day anymore, but the fact is - you don't have to DO anything to BE in the fandom (this feels like some metaphor for life but i only took one sip of coffee today so far). fandom is about enjoyment, yohr enjoyment and sharing that enjoyment with people who also love a certain piece of media or whatever. this capitalist bullshit of treating a fandom space like it's a job (what am i contributing? have i met my quota of posting about my blorbo today? how many followers do i have?) like... who the fuck cares. i still count myself into the silm fandom and i havent posted about it in ages. doctor who, star trek, hell, fucking x men and cap america and hannibal and so many things. i am still a fan of so many things that bring me enjoyment. thats why im a fan in a fandom.

i guess what i'm teying to say is that its really hard sometimes, when you lose interest or get disheartened by someting thats brought you joy before. when you feel like you're "failing" at liking something. but i try to remember - im a person, i have interests, interests change. a thing i loved isnt that anymore. okay. not okay, but it's fine. you may find joy again, you may surorise yourself, or you may just drift to something else. you're no less you, and no less a fan, if your intensity isn't the same now as it was yesterday or a decade ago. and with f1... its changing so much that its honestly pretty understandable to feel that way. bff stopped watching during the seb era, came back when it looked like seb might win w ferrari, then skipped the whole lewis era. og bff skipped merc domination era completely. my cousins husband stopped watching the moment alonso won. ive had friends stop watching the moment max won. it happens.

what im saying, too fucking long and winded bcs apparently im in a mood today - dont force yourself into something that doesnt bring you joy. theres so much joy to be found in this world deapite everything, and you're no less you for losing an interest in a fandom.

[faithdeans]

hi, it's ace anon <3

i'm just kind of weird feeling right now because like, i like the idea of romance, i think it's cute, i just don't think it's for me, or if it is, it's gotta be somebody i havent met yet. so that would make me aro or demiromantic, which is cool, and i'm fine with that, i just,

i'm visiting my cousin and his girlfriend of three years and she's so nice and they're so sweet together and i think they're going to get engaged soon based on how my cousin is acting, and it kinda makes me sad to think that i've never met anybody who would ever make me feel like the way they feel with each other. i feel so on the outside and i'm so happy for them, i am, and i'm so excited she's going to be part of our family.

it's just that the way their relationship works and how happy they make each other would never work for me. i realize i'm a different person than them with different boundaries, but looking at them so in love reminds me of how uncomfortable i would be if someone did that to me and also of how awesome love can be, so it's just a sucky feeling.

sorry if this bummed you out, i love you and you really helped me last time, so i'm like praying you have advice for how to not feel sad?

-ace anon

hiiii aceanon!

100% understand how you're feeling rn. when i realised i was aro, i definitely went through a kind of grieving process over it. very much thinking 1) there is something wrong with me and 2) i'm never gonna have that. i don't even think i want that but i'm never gonna have that.

it's like a whole world you can see and have to come to terms with missing out on and it's hard and it's painful. (at least it was for me)

i was actually talking about this yesterday and it's like, i feel like a hopeless romantic still. like i still crave that closeness and honestly some relationshipy things but. it's not romantic for me. it's more like a bond or a trust or just an understanding.

the thing i found the most helpful was romanticising the fuck out of my friendships. idk if you've seen the way i talk to the people i'm closest with on here but it helps so much. we're stargazing together. we're napping together. we're writing each other love letters and poems and getting fake married. it's beautiful and it's so joyful.

i try to bask in the love i can feel rather than mourn the love that i can't.

and you know i still get blushy and butterflies sometimes, when people are particularly sweet or kind. sometimes it feels like little platonic crushes! (and i know that's "all" they are, bc if someone actually told me they felt romatically towards me i'd be pretty uncomfortable yknow?)

also like, if you want a qpr or a partner in the future just maybe take some time and think about how you'd like that to look for you! i can promise you, you will find other people like that, especially with the internet.

honestly realising i'm aro has opened me up so much more to love because i'm not watering down my affections for my friends in fear that it might look romantic. they know i'm aroace, they know i'm just being sillysweet and i know it's the same from them.

idk man, just remember romatic love isn't the only love that can make you feel whole. in the meantime i'm here for you!! i hope you're okay and i love you so very much <3

[khodorkovskaya]

02.07.23

july let's goooooo

panda and i watched a documentary about hedy lamarr yesterday and it made us both cry bc like she deserved so much! it made me think of like how important it is for a person to feel seen. bc in hedy's case people just saw her as like a pretty face and a famous actress. and no one cared about her inner world, her interests, her inventions, who she really was, etc. panda and i would've been there for hedy!!! but yeah, her story really highlighted the fact that the worst thing that can happen to a person is to not be seen for who they really are. and it's really scary because it's hard to find people who can see you. im glad that i have panda. but will i ever find anyone else who can really see me?

panda also resonated a lot with hedy bc he's always been an inventor. and, just like in hedy's case, his own inventions got stolen. like he invented an alternative for gps that's used by everyone now (don't remember what it's called specifically but it's like what they use on boats), but he didn't have enough money to trademark it so his college professor stole it. and then he also invented an energy saving device for motors and he presented it to ferrari and they stole it. so he felt hedy's story very deeply.

anyway, yeah, we cried so much.

other than that i talked to my cousin yesterday and she was telling me about grandma. and it's all very sad, but god forgive me, i found it so funny. so basically my grandma has been obsessed with dieting her whole life. like she eats wholewheat crackers instead of bread, hates cooking, will fatshame you if you eat sweets in front of her, etc. like it's a whole thing. he whole personality used to be about fatshaming and eating as little as possible. but now that she has old people issues with her memory, her weird food habits are gone! she can't cook for herself anymore, so my auntie goes to her house and brings her tupperware with like soups and meals and stuff. but for some reason grandma doesn't notice them so the food just rots! what does she eat instead you may ask????

so apparently grandma goes to the grocery store every day and compulsively buys sweets, cookies, ice cream, all kinds of "junk food" that she would never touch before! and the worst thing is, she forgets what she buys! and she goes to the store every day! so she buys tonnes of this stuff every day! so now she has tonnes and tonnes of sweets in her house! all she eats now is sweets, cookies and ice cream!!!

im sorry but it makes me laugh so hard. like my grandma. who's obsessed with being slim. only eats sweets now. and stocks up on them like a squirrel. like. ???

[icy-warden]

@heniareth I’m answering your old ask for Saskia! Doing it in parts 😘 Original ask here

16. a conversation between your OC and their best friend

The freshly washed sheets flutter in the wind. Saskia’s enjoying sitting in their shade, sorting dried laundry into baskets. She finds comfort in the scent of soap surrounding her and a small smile appears on her lips when she finds a piece of fabric mixed into her basket. 

She breaks into a grin when she flings the thing at Soris’ face and he first lets out a cute little squeak, then turns into a lovely shade of red when he recognizes what he holds in his hands. Saskia laughs at him when he doesn’t meet her eyes, flustered, mumbling something about Alarith while stuffing the skimpy, bright red smallclothes into his pocket.

He huffs at her, embarrassed but smiles at her nevertheless when he sees how amused she is by his misery. 

“Fine, laugh all you want. Thank the Maker Shianni isn’t here, she’d never let me live it down.”

Saskia’s brow goes up. “And you’re sure I won’t tell her?”

“You won’t.” Soris says but his glance is a bit unsure and after a moment of stony silence she takes pity on him.

“I won’t.”

Soris’ shoulders drop with a heavy exhale, his freckles standing out on his still pink cheeks.

“I know.” It’s quiet between them again, both of them working on separating laundry for three households. Saskia feels Soris’ eyes on her and she tilts her head at him in silent question.

“Are you sure this is how you want to spend your time here?” She blinks at him and he clears his throat. “I mean, you could do something else. Relax. Talk with Cyrion. Not, you know, laundry.”

She shrugs. “There’s time to talk with my father later.” 

After all, during her stay in Denerim it’s natural she’s sleeping in her family’s home. 

She saw he bought a few pieces of second hand furniture and that he’s got enough wood for keeping fire going in the kitchen. Saskia’s glad he uses the coin she sends him but she’s sure he keeps most of it hidden for later. Or helps others in need. 

They talked when she arrived yesterday and she enjoyed her father’s arms around her when he hugged her tight with misty eyes upon seeing her. He made her bread and they sat at the table, Saskia listening to his tales and answering his questions as best as she felt comfortable with. She saw he was happy to see her, but felt his eyes slipping onto her ring finger from time to time. She curled her hand into fist, then let it fall on her lap. 

Saskia felt the question in the air, but breathed easier when he didn’t ask it out loud. She’s aware he knows that kind of grief that never leaves - he also is still wearing his own wedding ring.

And even if he didn’t ask, she saw sadness in his eyes. And she needed to go out, using the opportunity of visiting her cousins as an excuse.

“I like doing laundry.”

Soris snorts. “This your way of relaxing? Wardens must be really exciting. Or dull.”

“Can be both.”

“Really?” Soris shifts closer, bumping her knee with his. “Have any stories to tell?”

His eyes shine and Saskia knows he’s eager for any exciting story of her adventures. “Maybe I do.”

“Don’t keep me waiting then. Tell something. It’s really him? You know, your Commander.”

Saskia keeps looking at Soris until the tips of his ears start to blush. “You still having that crush? What will Alarith say?”

“Oh shush, it’s not like that.” Soris mumbles under his breath, squirming under her gaze and she smirks. “It’s just hard to believe it’s him. I thought he’s gone and now he’s Commander. And mage. Did you know he was one?”

Saskia hums, “When we were kids? Who knew.” 

“It’s just. I don’t know… cool?” His fingers play with the hem of a shirt. “He’s from here and we played together. Does he remember us?”

“We never talked much about it.” Soris’ face falls a little. “But I think he does. I know he nudged right people to do something more for Alienage.”

He perks at that. “Yeah? Well, I mean, there are some things that changed, but I thought it’s Shianni’s doing. She’s loud. I worry about her sometimes.” 

Saskia sighs. “I do too. Politics. It’s dangerous.” It gets people killed, she doesn’t add.

“Ah, well, but it’s Shianni! She never lets anything hold her down. She’ll first scold you then smack you if it’s not working.” 

Saskia nods at Soris’ attempt at brightening up the mood. 

“Sooo… where’s he now?”

“Who?” She asks innocently.

“Your Commander. He let you come to Denerim. Don’t you Wardens need, I don’t know, warden all time?”

She shakes her head at him, getting up with a basket hauled on her hip. “Kirkwall. And you can say his name, you know. It doesn't summon him, so don’t be shy.”

Soris stands up as well, his voice a bit higher. “I’m not shy.”

Saskia just smiles at him and turns to go down on rickety ladder.

[OC Codex Prompts]

[seemawrites]

Mother and Me

I look over to my mum while she’s deep in her sleep. I wonder what she could possibly be dreaming about. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, nothing like I feel when I’m resting. But then again, people say I get the way I sleep from my mother.

Being the eldest daughter in any family is tough, but mine has brought me confusion in my everyday life. I always sit and wonder if I do enough for her, for them, but I know I don’t. I don’t go to family gatherings anymore, unless my mother tells me in advance and I have enough money. I don’t bother sitting and talking with the gossiping aunties, or the cousins who talk about the most mind-numbing basic shit possible. I don’t bother being fake and pretending the elders in my family are good people. I can’t be bothered because I really don’t care. I express myself fully no matter who is in the room. I may hold back a few things, but my attitude remains the same. But my mother. My mother can slap a smile on in front of anyone, and just do it. She does it all and more.

I have heard incredible stories about my mother. About the time she snuck out of her dad’s house to go to a party that her eldest brother was sneaking her out to. About the time she won a swimming race in her hometown, but her father was so angry with her that she wore a swim suit. About how she learned Arabic watching TV so when she moved to Saudi Arabia is would be easier for her. About how she managed to travel to Italy, all by herself, as a Muslim woman and youngest daughter of an African family.

I will never know the parts of her life before she had me, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know the parts of her life she keeps a secret after she’s had me.

When I was younger, I wanted to die. More than anything, that was my wish. And my mother didn’t handle it well. I wonder if she knew what she was doing when she spewed evil words at me, thinking it would make me not want to die. I wonder if she knows that I remember it like it was yesterday. I wonder if she knows I forgave her, because she came from a life far worse than mine, and didn’t have to opportunity to be sad about it.

Does she know that I won’t look at her less if she’s told me she’s had an alcoholic drink? That I won’t look at her less if she told me she’s done drugs? That she has cried tears that will fill rivers and grow taller than mountains because of sacrifices she made for her family? That I won’t look at her any less if she tells me she hates some of her family for that?

I sometimes wish desperately to turn to her and tell her, “I know mommy, I know more than you would’ve liked for me to find out,” Because she has turned to hate a lot of the ways I have turned to be like her. I don’t know if she even understands that I know she does.

She moves in her sleep and I hold my breath. She lets out a deep breath. She has sleep apnea and it gets worse the more stressed she is. She’s always stressed though, and I always worry. I try to tell her to let me help her all the time, and each time she shoos me away.

Maybe she knows that I have grown to understand not everything under the sun is so bright. Maybe she chooses not to believe it. Maybe she doesn’t know at all, because we never get to talk about these things.

I wonder where my mother would be if she ended up staying in Italy. If she had gotten the chance to live her life to the fullest without the feeling of family obligations battering down her back. I wonder how she felt when I demanded to fix my life for the sake of myself, with no one else in mind. I only wanted to get better when I wanted to get better. I never did it for her, and I wonder if she’s angry with me for that.

I would like to take my mother out to dinner, and get to know her a little better than she would allow me. I want her to tell me about her first kiss, or about the first time she ever felt so lonely that it felt like her chest cracked open. I want her to tell me about how she truly feels about her father, beyond the niceness she provides him since he’s dead now. I want her to tell me how she felt when her mother denied her the chance to go to Canada, simply because she was an unmarried woman. I wonder what it was like being married to my father, a handsome and successful man, and how she felt when other women used to chase him endlessly.

There are so many things I want my mother to tell me, and so many things I want to tell my mother. I want her to be able to be there for me in ways I had to sacrifice to be there for her as a teenager. There was a time where every time I broke down, she would break down with me, and tell me how horrible of a mother she is. I want to tell her I need to know her as a whole person before I can even begin to think like that. That I understand the difference between a bad person and a good person who does bad things sometimes. We are all human, and I wish she would allow me to look at her that way. I wonder if she knows how much of my own feelings I set aside in order for her to feel better about herself. I wonder if she knows that I allowed it because if she forced herself to understand why I was so sad, then she’d have to realise that it’s because of generations of trauma finally pouring onto me like I was being waterboarded in Guantanamo Bay. She’d have to realise the trauma’s that she carries deep down in the pits of her stomach, and has pushed down in order to be “resilient”. I wonder if she hates me for giving up resilience for my mental well-being.

People tell me to wait till I’m 30 to ask all these questions. But I’m 24 now, and I have lived outside of my parents home for almost 5 years now, and things in life have taught me we don’t all have till we’re 30.

I want to know who she is beyond her as my mother. I want to know her as the full woman that she is. The mistakes she’s made, the men that have hurt her, the drunk nights she spent with her best friends, the adventures she took without realising it would turn into one, the jobs she had to work to survive, the things she had to do to survive. I would write more things I would like to know about her, but I truly don’t know anything about her.

The confusion comes from how can I blindly love someone as a whole person if I don’t know how they are when I’m not around, how they were before I was around.

I wonder if she’s really okay. She says prayers help her, and she prays for us to be good every day. 5 times a day she does this. I have stopped doing this years ago. I wonder if she hates me for that too. I wonder if she’s okay with it but pretends to not be for the sake of being a “good mother”. Does she know I don’t care about family traditions? Secretly, I think she does, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.

She never wants to talk about anything. And I guess I have to wait.

[shamelessfeelings]

confessions of a teenage boy

It’s been a while since I last turned this on. Hello. However long it’s been since I’ve last spilt my truths on digital formatting. I think before I can start being funny, I’d have to be honest as to why I came back to this…again. Last night was probably one of the worst nights of my life. I went to a concert with my cousins and you. The day before, we talked on the phone for two hours because we hadn’t spoken to each other in almost 2 weeks. You did something that really upset me, and I never told you about it. The reason as to why I didn’t, was because I always feel like I'm not allowed to feel those feelings, especially because you know how I feel about you. And in order for me to prevent you from feeling any guilt, I take responsibility for it. Is this fair? No. But we both knew that.

              But as I always tell myself whenever something like this happens (because it happens more often than you’d think) I accept whatever this is. I choose to take whatever this friendship is because it’s something that I will always love. I choose to get my feelings hurt over and over again. Because I like the feelings I get from it. The happiness is worth the bad days to me.

 I never tell you that because-just like you- I don’t want to lose this bond we have. But I think it’s come to a point where I accept the fact that-I personally- cannot be your friend. You mean more to me than feelings. And I always feel guilty for being upset whenever something I see, or know, affects my day.

Of course, I know that I sound psychotic and obsessive about it, but how could I not? The things you say when we drink. The most random experiences we’ve had. The way that I know exactly how you feel.

              Yesterday was rough.

 It was hard looking at you get into my car for the first time in two weeks, because I was ignoring you. I was hurt.

              The way you were grabbing MY cousin in FRONT of me. I already have a jealous nature, and it felt way worse because it was family. Then when she leaves you grab me. And you held me with all of your emotion. It was all I had ever wanted. To be held by you. Sounds so cheesy to type because I don’t say shit like that out loud.

But then I felt your sadness pour in and I knew that you were the one that needed to be held. I didn’t know how to react. And I knew I had to react quick before you let that feeling go away. So, I grabbed your arm and held it, as I would to comfort a child.  But then you started grabbing me in a different way. Or at least that’s how I felt. It was a familiar grab. I don’t know what you meant to do- and I'm sure you noticed and regretted it too- but you grabbed me with your face too close to mine. And imagine how difficult that was for me. Something I had waited for hoping to happen, only to know it was a mistake. And again, to save you from the guilt, I didn’t talk about it.

              Why is it that you love to talk to me about us and our unique relationship when you’re drunk? Because you’re right about what you said last night. It really has been a year. A year full of this.

 It hurts a lot to just let it happen. All because of me not wanting you to feel bad. I always told myself that I was just over analyzing things and convinced myself that I was crazy. Yesterday on my way home after dropping you off, Aimee had asked if this is what you do. And I told her that it was. She heard your whole conversation that you started with me. Which is why they both kept trying to separate us.

The crazy thing is, last week when I went to Disneyland with my friend, we talked about you. And of course, I vented, and I brought up the Instagram thing that happened. He jokingly said what if you had a crush on her this whole time. Again, I’m already jealous in nature, it began theories in my head. And then seeing you hold her a specific way made me shut down immediately. I wanted nothing to do with you. And I had been feeling that way for a while now.

 But as soon as she left and you shifted that towards me, I melted. Again, like a teenager, I gave in. I was still very upset, but I was taking what I could in that moment. But as soon as that grab happened, we both separated. I was embarrassed. Because for a second, I thought that I was actually going to experience that dumb teenage romcom moment.

Being separated from you on and off this year was always a good thing for me. I learned a lot even when we weren’t speaking. And one of things I learned was that I do in fact love you. I love you like the dumb teenage boy who’s in love with the hot girl and she knows it, and throughout the whole show, that’s just their role. And almost always, at the end of the shows demise, they fall in love.  That’s what I felt like. But this isn’t a show.

 This isn’t what I thought it was.

              But I also can’t be blamed from creating my own dreams with what I was given. Just like you- I too- am a hopeless romantic. I’ve always been. I don’t like to show it because I know how special I am. And not just that, but difficult too. I'm a hard person to love. I know that. I know who I am. I know what I am capable of, and I deny myself opportunities to pursue others. Because I am too much. I accept that. As a defense mechanism, I pretend like love is nothing to me. I don’t talk about it. So, people just assume I'm just a ball of chaos that probably doesn’t have time for love. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Who doesn’t want to feel understood? Loved and cared for? I always have my barriers up when it comes to talking about how I really feel about things. And when you came into my life, I always had a feeling like you needed to be apart of my life. You snuck under my barriers and hijacked all my defense mechanisms. I opened up to you more than anyone on this planet. Literally. You know me more than my mom, my closest friends, my family.

              I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty, I'm saying all of this because its not fair for me to hold onto all of this, when I'm trying to let it go. It’s my form of letting go. Writing to you, pretending one day you’d read all these that I’ve made of you.

 You meant to me more than feelings.

              Since I always tell you about my days- because no one else cares to listen, I thought id tell you about it one last time. I woke up with such an empty feeling. I woke up feeling like yesterday didn’t even happen. Then quickly checked my phone to see if I was actually awake. I had hoped I would’ve gotten a message from you, but again, how could I expect that out of you. It was 8 and I was scrolling on tiktok and saw a little clip of a movie I had been wanting to re-watch for a while now. Call me by your name. If you’ve ever seen this movie, I would agree. Its ironic for me to have the want to see that film again. But of course, I can’t focus properly. I hesitated on how I was going to tackle my day. I knew it was going to be a rough one. It was either weed or my adhd medication. I had smoked right before bed last night and my throat was feeling dry, but I didn’t want to take my adhd ones, because I feel more aware of my emotions, and I was scared of what could happen. Last night was really heavy and hard for me. But regardless, I chose the adhd medication. After I took it, I knew I had to go back to my car to clean it up while I had the emotional capacity for it. I then realized that my appetite had disappeared, and I was no longer hungry. I knew I had to eat. I got in my car and started driving and didn’t know where I was going or what I was going to do. I felt like my emotions were starting to come out by themselves and I started to cry uncontrollably. I ended up at my private target that only a few know of. And I parked and the feelings went away. I grabbed hairspray, and I got back in my car. I knew I needed to get a new pod for my pen soon, and I had $100 cash, so I contemplated on getting that. I found a new spot to go to. Really close to blue’s house. When I walked in, the guy had asked me how my day was, and without thinking I told him I was having a shitty morning. It felt good, to tell someone that I was having a shitty day. I grabbed a new pod and some edibles. When I got out, min had texted me apologizing. I forgot to say that we had to get an EMT to get her out of the bathroom cuz she was passed out in her throw up for more than half of the concert. Luckily, Aimee was there with her, and she got help. She texted to apologize, with what felt to be the most insincere apology. I haven’t responded, and I probably won’t for a while.

I was driving home and again started to cry uncontrollably. This time I had found myself thinking pretty dark. I was comforting myself on the way home. I told myself that everything was going to be okay. I talked to myself as if I were talking to a little me. I didn’t want to be scared, and I didn’t want to know that I was hurt so bad to the point where I was crying for myself to hold on. I got home and thought about what I could do. Again. And I had to leave the house again because those thoughts were rotating heavily. My mom called and I went to AutoZone. Yeah… AutoZone. I needed windshield wipers for my car. Going in a store like that was really weird. It reminded me of when I used to go with my dad. Then I got stoned on the way home and found myself forgiving everything. I got home, made myself my first meal in the day. French toast.  At 5 pm. I didn’t know what to do after and I felt inspired. To tell the truth, about how I feel. I know it more than likely won’t happen, but if there’s any letters that I’ve ever written to you, I’d hope this would be the one that finds you.

[hurricaneaurora]

I am on the verge of crying over absolutely nothing. I had a mini-meltdown yesterday when I was getting ready to drive to work. My husband had to shower me and pack my suitcases for me because I was so upset I was in no position to do anything for myself at that point. My husband hugged me while I cried and comforted me, then I drove to his cousin's house to stop for the night before finishing the drive. Being there was great because his cousin and her husband are lots of fun and kept my mind off things. Then during the drive I listened to the new Taylor Swift album again and a bunch of other Taylor songs I like, plus I listened to the audiobook of Marie Kondo's Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I wasn't sad, I actually really enjoy driving and it was a great day for the drive.

But when I got to the staff house I called home to say goodnight to my husband and dog and felt so sad to be missing them. Then I started watching Dear John. Normally romance movies don't make me cry, but I had to stop watching because it was upsetting me so much. Just seeing the autistic dad and seeing how people treated him (both good and bad reactions) and also seeing the military guy and feeling so sorry for him in his story arc. Maybe I'm just overtired from driving all day, but I think maybe there's something to think about in there. While I was listening to Marie Kondo I wondered if her advice would even work for someone with autism/ADHD. Then I thought about shame and how I feel about being a messy and disorganized person because of my ADHD. I might be having feelings about that.

[roadtodeltarune]

Earthbound Start!

Howdy, y'all! I'm back with another week's update! Though, this is more like a day 1 update.

For the past week, I've been relaxing, fighting a cold, and working. But how far have I gone with the project? Not far. I decided to spend this week watching retrospectives on Mother 1, learning more about its creation, impact, and interpretations. I've also been letting my thoughts on Mother 1 settle into something more concrete. In short: I stand by my earlier thoughts, and you can see those in my other posts.

Today, I have big news! I started Earthbound! Yesterday, I couldn't help myself and decided to start up the game. I stayed up playing it for a long time. I almost got sucked back in this morning but pulled myself out to give the week's update.

As promised, we're doing a fruit theme, matching the veggie theme from last time. A few things about their names: I regret not naming Ness "Strawb" instead, but "Straw" has grown on me. Plus with his dog, it's team StrawBerry. "Bana" is obviously named after a banana, but I like pronouncing it the same as "Launa". "Apple" I named 'cause of his apple-green suit. I had no clue that there was an inventor kid in this game also named Apple. Maybe they're brothers or cousins? Lastly, Grape, I was running out of fruit ideas. I was tempted to name him "Cherry" after the shape of his head, but most of my internet handles are "CherryKeri" or something similar, so I went for Grape. No particular reason, but I do like grapes.

Now for the elephant in the room: Giygas is back. Y'know, I figured he'd be in this game, but he got here faster than I thought. After making him have an emotional breakdown from hearing the song of his dead mom, I wonder how he's doing and what made him think it would be a good idea to come back.

As for Pokey, I had hopes for him at first. He's a bit of a jerk, but I could see a change arc for him in the future. Maybe... He kinda sucks, especially after he kidnapped Bana and said his honest apology was a lie. I wanna hit him with my baseball bat, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

When Buzz Buzz died, I felt so many emotions. Anger and sadness obviously, laughter at the funny dialogue, a sense of purpose and bravery to continue my journey, and confusion at how that all happened so fast and from the mix of feelings.

Speaking of the dialogue, this game is hilarious. The tombstone ad in the hospital had me cracking up, and there are a bunch of little things like that all over the game! It really helps to make me want to explore and read every sign.

After Buzz Buzz told me about how Giygas returned and it was my destiny to find some friends and kick his butt, I set out for Onett.

The city was fun, but I kept noticing these trucks. It's funny how they used to be a serious enemy and now they're normal. A weird thing about them: I think they have set spawn locations. I was running around a lot and kept seeing them flicker on the edge of the screen. It's a very minor thing, my ADHD just kept focusing on it.

While I was in Onett, I also found out a bunch of new features that are a huge improvement over Mother 1. First off, when I find items in the wild, it lets me have the option of dropping an item from my bag; in the first game, the random encounters would just not drop things if my bag was full. Second, when I buy armor or weapons and equip them at the store, it instantly gives me the option to sell my old items. It's such a small thing, but it makes the whole game smoother and faster pace.

A difference that I wish they kept is the run button, walking is a bit too slow for me. I think I'm getting used to it, but the run button made backtracking a lot better.

Since I was in town, I decided to defeat an evil gang. They had a key needed to get the first melody, and they were causing trouble for everyone. So I fought Franky and his Battle Franky Mark II. It was actually not too bad of a fight; I two-shot him with a SMASH and a regular bash.

Going into the caves, I unlocked my signature move: PSI Juice! I didn't think this was how they'd use my "Favorite Thing" but I think it fits pretty well! I like to imagine I'm hitting them with so much power, that I'm wringing the juice out of them, like in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. I mostly used the move for big hits and for crowd control.

First Melody nabbed, and I think I'll mention it now. The plot of this game, so far, is very similar to Mother 1. Mother 1: Collect the melodies and some friends to defeat Giygas. Mother 2: Collect the melodies and some friends to defeat Giygas. It's the same, except the details were changed. Mother 1: Queen Mary lost her memory and only the melodies can restore it, but the melodies are being used by aliens to do evil deeds like restoring the dead. By making friends and doing good deeds, you gain the magic music of love, and with this, you restore Queen Mary's memories and then face the one behind it all: Giygas. So far, there is no Queen Mary in this game. In Mother 2: Giygas has returned and Buzz Buzz goes back in time to stop him before it's too late. He asks for your help and you go out to make friends and collect the melodies, the magic music that can defeat Giygas. The only things that are similar in these plots are the melodies and Giygas being the big baddie, but I think that makes sense. Only love can defeat evil. Though, I am curious about one thing: how are the melodies here? Is it the same song?

Anyway, back on the road. I got more funny dialogue with the cops and man, these guys suck. I know this game is from Japan and made in the 90s, but I can't tell if this is pro-cop or anti-cop. I wanna say anti-cop, cause they fight you and everything, but the game doesn't treat them like full-blown antagonists.

On my way to Twoson, I got mushroomed. It was fine at first cause I didn't have any party members to accidentally hit, but then my controls got weird. Luckily, I was in town already when that started, so it became a fun little challenge to get to the hospital.

Hey so quick question: What's with the blue guys? No, not the cult, the guys that attack you in cities? Are they zombies? Drunks? Crazy people? All of the above? They're really weird. I kinda wish they weren't here, cause it makes the cities, a plan of safety in the first game, not so safe anymore.

As for those other blue guys, I don't like them. They kidnapped Bana to sacrifice? Wtf? I got geared up and went over there- I got stopped by a pencil... Well, I went back and got a Hint. I love these by the way, I think I'll be using hints when I get stuck from now on. In Mother 1, I had to use a walkthrough, but they risked spoiling me or making it too easy.

Okay, so the hint told me about the inventor kids. Other people told me about them, but I didn't think they were important and their inventions seemed expensive. I bit the bullet and donated 400 dollars and a cookie to them. Orange gave me his item and I went back- It didn't work...

When I got back through the cave, Red Apple called me and told me to meet with him. I don't know if it was a timed event after paying him, or if I accidently did the right thing by going to the pencil and trying Orange's bomb. Either way, I ran to Red Apple and got the Eraser. NOW, I made the trek.

This area was scary, with all sorts of dangerous enemies, colds, and twists and turns. Somehow, I made my way through even though the Blue Cult broke the first bridge.

In Happy Village, I fixed up my gear and did a little leveling up. This town is a little weird though. I mean in how they treat you at first, it's kind of the perfect representation of a cult. Most members are welcoming and subtly trying to make you join. The more extreme members notice you're a stranger who doesn't want to join, so they attack you. It's creepy. There's paint in their river, and even the cow was convinced!

Worse yet, I was getting homesick. That status condition wasn't in Mother 1, so it's brand new to me. It's very annoying, but I guess I just gotta call Mom regularly now? I thought it was cause there was something in the paint, but I think it's just a timed thing.

What a SHOCKING fight! It was actually pretty fun! Most of his attacks didn't hurt me much, so I just wailed at him with Bashes and Juices. A small detail upped the creepy factor though: the statue. Earlier in the game, I went to X. Agerate's house and he took me to the statue he found. I think this might be the same one! How did it get here? These people know it's dangerous now, but it's not destroyed, so what'll happen to it? I want to break it to bits just to be safe!

Two gangs down and I rescued Bana! She had been sending messages in my dreams. The people of Twoson missed her so much, but the cult had treated her horribly. Of course, I had to save her after all that! It's clear to me that she'll be like Potato(Ana) from Mother 1, but I wonder if her Bashes will be stronger or if she'll get even greater spells. Her learning set and how much damage her spells do are different from Potato, so I have some learning and training to do.

I thought I'd go through the cave while I was there, so I used it as a place to level up Bana. She's now level 15 while Straw is level 21, so the gap is shrinking! Her Teddy Bear helped a lot, it's a great tool for training! I also learned a neat change from Mother 1 that I love!

Say you were fighting two Mega Borg in Mother 1 and you target everyone on the first, leaving the second free from damage on that turn. You'd do that because they're tough so you know you need to take it down with multiple hits. But surprised! Someone landed a SMASH, so it goes down easy. Now your party is wasting PP and time just attacking the air while the second Mega Borg is completely fine! Quite the hypothetical, but it happened to me a lot in Mother 1. Well, they fixed that! Now, if an enemy fails, your characters will instantly target the other one. This is a feature that Pokemon also has. It's very convenient and makes the fights faster-paced.

We'll end this week's update with the Second Melody! I'm not sure what this is supposed to be, a Hat Trail?

So far, I'm loving this game! I had a great time with Mother 1 and this is so much better! I can't forget to mention the amazing music and sprite art, a huge improvement that many might not notice right away. I found myself a few times just walking around, looking at how pretty everything is.

I'm shocked at how much I've done in just a day! This was all last night! All I did this morning before stopping to make this post was leave Happy Village and get back to Twoson. Next, we'll be going to Threed. I'm not sure what my journey has in store, but I'll see you down the road.

[steamishot]

it's december~

i did a lot of black friday shopping: nordstrom's (with my aunts 40% off), breville, manduka, smith tea, and lululemon. i had a "fuck it, we were overall quite financially responsible this past year" given also receiving a promotion (and saving a lot by not upgrading apartments), so i wanted to be a tad irresponsible and treat myself. it's the most responsible time to be financially irresponsible, at least!

from my last post, i still have some funkiness and sadness going on, but the crying has stopped after that period. i read sara payne's book "i did all of that for this?!", which is a book written by a medical spouse. i think i first read it towards the end of residency but didn't really relate to it too much. however, now rereading it at this point in our lives and the medical journey, i related SO much to basically everything she said, to the point where i had the some of the same thoughts verbatim. i also listened to a few of her podcast episodes called rock solid relationships, which were helpful. additionally, i did some CBT workbook practices - these were all to identify and examine all the thoughts i was having that were impacting my feelings.

i'm letting myself "grieve". recently on the medspouse subreddit, a few people have posted about how disappointed and upset they were at where their partners had matched for fellowship. a number of people have indicated crying and grieving the news. hearing this, i also felt less alone and normal to have these kinds of feelings and wounds.

some news about the job search: matt's interview and chalk talk with USC went pretty well (it seems). the interviewers were impressed by his current title from a fancy hospital. compared to the previous job interviews, he is genuinely interested in this one and doesn't think it's a step down from his current position as the others may have been. this would be a "normal" 8-5 M-F job. additionally, he has interviews with UCI and city of hope coming up. we're also in contact with UCLA. i will follow up with UCSD. cold emailing really works to get interviews. i'm keeping my expectations low but have my fingers crossed for good outcomes. i really hope he can get something with a start date of 7/1/24.

strangely, and perhaps i have some depressed girl vibes going on which is creating this - but this past month has been the most i've ever been complimented by strangers, like ever. on my plane ride to SF, an older white man poked me as he walked down the aisle (i was seated) and said "you're too cute". then, in brooklyn as i was walking to the japanese market, some younger white (?) guy started walking next to me and said "wanted to say what's up, you look kinda good". lastly, yesterday, matt and i went to visit R&T at their upper east side home. we arrived earlier than them so i was waiting at the steps while matt walked around. a black guy that walked by said "you're beautiful, have a lovely day".

i'm telling myself this is god's/the universe's plan for me. that the previous jobs and redlands didn't work out for a reason. that R&T coincidentally moved here to NYC in september so that my remaining time in NYC would be better (and it has been substantially because of them). that random strangers are complimenting me to lift me up.

thanks to R&T, thanksgiving wasn't so lonely this year. last year, i basically spent my thanksgiving weekend alone because matt was working. this year, they joined us on thanksgiving day which was also matt's bday and made it a festive day. that weekend, i spent the day with them at industry city, dropped off coffee for matt, shopped at primark and had dinner at our apartment. they invited us on a trip to CT this past weekend to see their cousin perform at a community theater. it was so nice to just tag along with someone else's plan. we just showed up and went along for the ride.

R&T are very casual and very lenient on time. matt and i's new normal is to rush and be on a time crunch so traveling with them really helped us slow down and chill. it was nice to experience how another couple travels and to finally not be in charge. thanks T for driving! we watched elf the musical (which was quite funny and entertaining), stayed at a hotel that night while they stayed at their cousin's place, visited their family the next day, met up with their resident friend at yale and got a short "tour", and got malaysian food for dinner! they are a bit younger than us, so it also feels like they have more energy. R takes a lot of nice pictures and brings a warm happy energy to the group.

[carelesstemper]

To me

I saw my cousin today, and for the first time I'm able to put what I feel into words. You know what it's like, constantly running away from your sadness instead of dealing with it? well, I've finally decided to stop running.

I don't feel as sad as I did yesterday but it doesn't mean I won't be sad again. I think that's what I keep forgetting. Just cause you feel this incredible love for yourself that you've gotten through another rough patch, it doesn't mean the underlying problems aren't still there. When they surface again, I will deal with them and the cycle might continue but that is my business to deal with and I'm fine with that. I can do it.

I am proud that I've taken a step back to reflect. To really understand that this is what I need to do to take care of myself. I did the only thing I knew how: To listen to beautiful music and write my heart out. Post some inspiring photos I took and cry.

I decided to delete certain social media platforms. Snapchat and Facebook. I wanted to remove myself from that because, since I could remember, it was a popularity contest for me. It was a way to collect validation of my worthiness and beauty. Like, I was not pretty unless I went onto these apps and posted pictures of myself that took a couple hours to take and edit. To have people tell me I'm pretty. I felt like I was constantly begging for attention and manifesting these types of false friendships that was based on what they could do for me. Unfair right? Yeah.. so I just decided this is not the person I am. Constantly crying out for someone to love me and understand me. I think I'm finally understanding that it's not how you find authentic happiness. I need to want to live for me. I need to find happiness in myself before I form friendships and relationships because then I start to look for that in them. I start to expect them to bring me happiness when I cannot produce that myself.

It should not ever be someone else's problem that I'm unhappy. I should have never made it anyones problem. Screaming and crying for a solution that no one knows how to give me. That's not fair to the other person.

I wanted to remove the negatives from my life. Remove what was draining me. Even though I didn't want to admit it, what other people thought of me was what I cared about the most. I wanted to be looked at as this beautiful mystery. The geeky but clumsy and smart girl, who you couldn't help but love. Except I wasn't getting that. This self Image I had, based on false pretences, was hard to try and convince others of. I thought that if I perceived myself to be this person then for sure someone is bound to come along and love me. but that never happened. I spent a lot of my time waiting for that to happen but It was never going to happen if I kept making it obvious that I was looking.

What it wasn't, was me using it as a cry for help. I definitely wasn't doing what I used to do and post about how I'm taking time away and here's all these other ways to contact me. I did it silently and it also wasn't me going away and seeing who would want to reach out to me, cause in my mind no one wanted to anyway. I was okay with that. However, today my friends texted me through my actual phone number. which was crazy to me because I never use my phone for the texty part and the phoney part. I wanted to cry because after days of feeling alone, here I had two people who actually wanted to talk to me. I didn't even have to say anything! I was honestly amazed that I was able to make friendships like that. I felt loved and valid in that moment. They might not know that but it meant a lot that they reached out. It made me feel important. I feel important now to at least two people.

[spicycowboyhole]

posting because the psychicatrist decided to get sick when im having a crisis?:

idk where to start tbh LLOOL but i think im NOT DOING WELL. like on the outside evertytthings fine like nothings changed at all but i think im going insane. i think ive just realized how i have like 0 emotional suppoport system and whenever someone says something genuinely nice about me it makes me feel emotional because like i had family visiting this past week and my mom and my cousins tarted talking about college and my mom was saying how i wasted money going to college. i said that i didnt feel like i wasted my money becasue i have a degree now and i could always go back and get my bachelors but she said "BUT WHAT ARE U DOING EITH IT" and it just pissed me off because i feel like shes negating my accomplishment.

what made me cry last night was when i was messaging this guy and he was telling me about how he had class in the morning and we started talking about college. i told him how i was thinking about going back to school in january and he said i should.

for some reason i feel like getting my degree in psych would be cringe or a waste of time/money because my friend told me everyone she knows who did thinks so, like its some useless art degree. but when i asked this guy if it was cringe he said "so cringe... imagine having ambitions" im fucking stupid and didnt notice the sarcasm and i said "might as well start playing bucket drums on the street ig" because idk i guess i imagine getting a degree in psych would be just as dumb as someone trying to make it in the music business by playing on the street or something. he said "everyone thats going to college has ambitions. So in that case we all need to go play street bongos" and that perspective completely exploded my brain and i started crying LMAO because i guess going to college is a risk no matter what and u just have to believe in urself or some gay shit. it made me think of a taz cameo where he told someone that "nobody is gonna support your journey no matter how much they love you until youve proved to them that your journey was worth supporting" and that made me sad kinda because like i said i dont think i really have any kind of support from family rn and i kinda just have myself but i have like 0 confidence and negative self esteem and my family just being dissapointed in me and saying negative stuff really doesnt help. so i guess the moral of the story is that i have to trust and believe in myself because no one else will! really sucks i think. yeah but i only just started talking to that guy like YESTERDAY and im sure he prob felt like what he told me was nothing but it really did impact me and pulled the last tiny string that was emotionally holding me together. i apologized for being cynical and i told him i appreciated his words because i was kinda responding in a joking way that might have come off as rude i think? the silly bandaid just isnt working so good no more.

but fr i think while my anxiety is a lot better i think my depression is getting worse just due to my circumstances. like can u believe i almost went to the movies with some stranger internet guy just because i didnt want to be with my family?? i think somethings making me more impulsive than usual. i was going to buy cigarettes today and the only reason i didnt was because my appointment got canceled.

some other things tho i kinda didnt like having my cousins come visit because i just feel so inferior to them. like they look better and are just doing kinda all the stuff i should be doing yk? makes me feel shitty AND i feel like my mom just kinda infantilizes me like my parents treat me like nemo and i just cant do some things for some reason. its just so frustrating like my parents make me upset and i just want to move far away from them but also like they dont encourage me to do stuff on my own and when i try theyre like how are you even gonna do that you cant do that you have a bad fin like HELLO HELP ME FIX MY FIN THEN? I WOULDNT HAVE A BAD FIN IF YOU DIDNT HELP PREVENT IT IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL BUT IT JUST SUCKS THAT I HAVE TO DO ALL THIS BY MYSELF

i just dont want to be living here in like 5 years. thats a goal huh? if i had been asked where i wanted to be in 5 yrs when i was in high school id be like idk but i somehow managed to grow a goal somehow just out of misery i guess. and the steps are so cleaar in my head but then the voices tell me i cant do it because im scared BUT thats the point of life or something right??

jesus chhrososttt in reality nothing is really changing irl but im having some sort of crisis rn

ive even been trying to talk to boys LOL ive just been wanting some kind of escape from my life,, some independence, i want MY OWN LIFE that my mommy doesnt know everything about. i want to go to the movies with someone im not related to.

ok these paragraphes are all fucked up and i would fix it but i dont wanna go through and reread them

[aprayerforclarity]

4/12

Card: Ten of Wands - Reversed Holy shit. I just did a 30 minutes meditation and it was pretty intense. I actually felt some feelings of sadness about life. A lot of what was going through my head was song melodies and lyrics, in particular Wednesday and Virulent Life synth song. Other things that passed through my head were going to my cousin's bachelor party in Charleston, questioning my ability to do computer programming as a career, needing to mail my suit back to my aunt Barbara, needing to go to the tailor today in order to get my suit fitting in time for Will and Madeline's wedding April 22, my upcoming trip to California with my family, Sir Walter Ralegh and London during the Elizabethan era, my experience of taking 10 mg of Adderall yesterday and how helpful it was for my focus. I looked at all the opened tabs in my Chrome browser, and thought "how the hell was I able to balance all this information yesterday? Oh yeah, it was probably the Adderall."

I began to question my ability to focus without substances to help me. I'm feeling pretty unfocused today, but is that because of my lack of sleep last night? I remember waking up to the sound of loud jackhammering outside my apartment. In my mind I pictured the construction workers that occupied the middle lane of the downtown street, jackhammering through the concrete to gain access to God-knows-what. I remember thinking, "god damn, why do they have to do that in the middle of the night to wake up the people who live downtown"

I guess it does make sense. They want to work in a heavy trafficked area when it's least busy, but still. Anyways, I woke up and told myself it is bad to look at my phone, but I did it anyways. I started trying to find any books on John White in order to really get a sense of his character. I'm starting to realize that I'm really inspired to write when I'm totally primed about everyone in a scene. I want to know the setting and all of the details, as well as the character's past in order to really get a feel for how they will act. Stephen King's book on writing is really inspiring to me, as he really does attest to just letting the writing flow with minimal planning or outlining. While I do believe that is, like, 75% of writing, to me I like to have a sense of the time of the setting, the physical location of the setting, the characters past and where they might be headed. I haven't really written much, but like I said, yesterday I felt so inspired and had a fantastic day researching all about Sir Walter Ralegh and his Durham House. I'm now questioning whether my pure enjoy or digging through academic papers and internet resources was due to being inspired or just from the Adderall. In the past I've been able to access flow states, but am I doomed to rely on a pill to access it on demand? I'm not ashamed of taking medications(unlike my father) but is that really a sustainable path to life? My gut tells me no, I'd like focus and inspiration to come from within. I guess I'll just have to continue harnessing my willpower and focus... In the meantime, coffee and nicotine gum will be my minor aids.