#i was kinda hoping andy would spare us

[dinogoofymutated]

Wolverine/Fem!Reader - Masterlist link

You've met Logan Howlett in every life you've lived since the 1900s. And in every lifetime, fate rips you from him just as cruelly as it forces the two of you to meet. How many lives will it take for the two of you to finally have your happily ever after?

General TWs: Reincarnation, death, Major character death (multiple times), Angst with a happy ending. Controlling familiail behavior, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of war, descriptions of violence/death, childhood trauma. Possible historical inaccuracies.

Here's the first chapter!! I waassss gonna wait until I finished part two and post both at once but TBH I was desperate to get this out! I hope yall enjoy this, and I would like to remind everyone that I am not a nurse or any kind of medical personnel, and I kinda struggled to find out about the procedures of ww1 nurses, so take most of the nurse stuff with a grain of salt! like watching a dumbed down version of grey's anatomy lol. I'd also like to say that I decided to make Logan's healing factor slower during ww1 and ww2, as he hadn't gone through the Weapon X program yet. Chapter TWs: Blood, injury, childhood injuries in the prologue scene, war n shit, ww1 canada is a tw on it's own.

     October 22, 1900.

    “Andy!!”  Your brother rolls his eyes at the sound of your high-pitched voice calling his name, turning around with a frown. He always had been faster than you, and today was no different. He had gone running into the woods when your mother had called the two of you in for lunch, and ever the devoted little sister, you had chased after him before she could notice what the two of you were doing. You’re panting when you finally catch up to him, your skirts scrunched up in your fists as you try your best to keep them from catching on bushes and vines.

    “Where are you going? Mama’s calling us for lunch!” Neither of you was supposed to be on this side of the woods, past the fence that marked your family’s property. It made you nervous to be so far past the boundary. Your older brother scoffs at you, turning away once again as he continues to march further. 

    “Father told me that he had set bear traps out to keep the animals away from the house. I’m going to see if he’s caught anything.” Andrew says stubbornly. You rush ahead to try and keep up with him, staying close and looking around anxiously. You never had been a rule breaker, and this was just a little more adventurous than you were comfortable with.

    “Bears? You don’t think we’ll find any, do you? I don't want to see anything be hurt.” You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Your brother laughs at you, the same way did the time you brought some a dying bird, or the time you had begged father to spare the rabbit that had been digging in the garden. He never understood why you were so soft-hearted.

    “You’re going to need to be more brave if you’re going to be an adult one day. Cowards get killed.” Andrews teases, cackling wickedly as he steps on a branch and the sound of it snapping causes you to flinch and cry out, rushing forward to grab hold of his arm.

    “That’s not true!” You cry. 

    “Yeah, it is!” Andrew argues. There’s a bit of a ditch in front of the two of you, and he shakes you off before he hops down. He holds his hand out to help you navigate the drop, and you take it eagerly as you carefully get down, making sure not to dirty your skirts any more than they had been. 

    “No, it’s not! It’s not true! It’s not true because I have you, remember? Big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters!” You persist once you’re finished. Andrew sighs again, but you don’t doubt his answer for a second. He rolls his eyes at you before he begins to walk on.

    “Of course I am. But you can’t expect me to get to you every time.” Andrew says. You’re about to refute that when the two of you hear a rustling in the bushes up ahead. Andrew holds out a hand to keep you behind him, stopping both of you in your tracks. The birds have stopped singing, and you know that it means something scary is about to happen. Dad calls it a bad oh-men or something along those lines, but you didn’t usually listen to him. Now you’re starting to wish you had.

    “Stay here. I think I hear something up ahead.” Andrew whispers to you. You try to grab for his arms as he leaves you, but he’s too far away, and you find your feet rooted to the spot. You’re too scared to move, holding your hands anxiously as you watch Andrew begin to stumble through the bushes cautiously. You don’t like this. You don’t like it at all. You can only see his head through once he’s through the thick of it, and you hear him huff in disappointment when he doesn’t find anything on the other side.

    “Never mind. There’s not even-” There’s a sound of a mechanical snap before Andrew falls to the ground with a scream. 

    “Andy!” You cry out, immediately bolting through the bush. Branches and briars get caught on your skirt and tear at your skin as you push through to get to him. Your brother is shouting and grunting in pain when you see him, tears dotting his eyes as he stares down at the sight of his ankle caught firmly between the teeth of a bear trap.

    “Stupid trap!” He cries out, his hands shaking from adrenaline. You don’t know what to do, standing frozen at the bloody sight before you, mind going back and forth between whether or not you should go to your brother or run home to get your parents.

     “Help me get it off!” Andrew shouts, and it’s enough to finally bring you back to the situation. You can only nod frantically as you kneel by his side. Hands shaking as you help your brother try and open the trap and get it off of him. The metal digs into your fingers as you try to pry it open, your brother grunting and crying with the effort to do so. You can only think of what your parents will say, what Andrew will do. What if it got infected? What if he lost his foot completely? You realize you’re crying as you and Andrew try with all your might to pull the trap open, grip beginning to slip on the contraption right as Andrew tugs his leg out of the trap. It snaps closed violently after, barely missing both of your fingertips as Andrew rolls away from it.

    “What- What do we do? Andy?” You ask, unable to do much but stare as your brother writes in pain. It’s all happening so fast, but god did everything feel so slow. Andrew manages to make out something about stopping the bleeding, and you’re right on it as you press your small hands to the bloody, mangled, flesh. You squeeze tightly as you pray and pray and pray for him to stop bleeding, shutting your eyes tightly as you sob and cry and wish you could do something, anything more to help your big brother.

    There’s a buzzy feeling in your hands, like pins and needles without the pain. You don’t see it happening as you sit there and bawl for your brother, his warm blood on your hands all you can manage to feel in the moment. The blood begins to slow, and slow, and you don't even realize it has stopped until everything seems to be just as quiet as before. You realize that Andrew isn’t crying anymore, and find yourself brave enough to cautiously open your eyes.

    To your surprise, you don’t see anything. 

    All there is is Andrew’s blood staining his ripped pants and both of your hands- but the strangest part of all was that there was no more wound. Not even a bruise remained of the bone-deep cuts that had been there just a moment before. Your tears begin to dry up as your eyebrows furrow, still hiccuping as you look on at the scene in confusion. When you look up at your brother, he’s wide-eyed. Staring at you in complete shock.

    “Was that you that did that?”  He asks. You don’t know what to say. You don't know. You begin to notice a soreness in your leg as the two of you sit there, simply staring at each other in shock. Eventually, Andrew swallows, before he tries to stand up, doing so effortlessly and without pain. He stretches and flexes his leg, moving it back and forth like his brain is still playing catch up. You try to follow his lead, only to cry out in pain and stumble. There's a deep purple bruise circling your leg when you raise your skirt, one that perfectly mimicked the bloody hole in Andrew’s pants where his own wound once had been.

    He carried you back home that day.

    The Great War began on July 28th, 1914. The archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated, thus causing a series of events that spiraled into the worst war that the world had ever seen until that point. Your brother was quickly whisked away into the battle once the fight had started. He quickly advanced through the ranks, his ever-present charm and intelligence being a boon to him, and an asset to many others. He had always been the fighter. Your bother Andrew, your protector, and keeper of your secrets, now a general in the Canadian army. You could hardly believe it. 

    You, on the other hand, had begun to educate yourself at your brother’s behest. You became a nurse, finding yourself drawn to the field in the absence of the many men who had left mainland hospitals to go to war. You loved it. You loved helping people heal and survive, thrive even, but even so, you had become rather secretive about your natural gifts. Andrew, as supportive as he was, knew that the world would never accept powers like yours. As guilty as you felt every time a patient had slipped through the doctor’s fingers, you knew better. Your healing abilities took from you a fraction of what it gave to others, and using it was just not possible in large doses. You knew that and knew to listen to your brother’s warnings. Still, it did not stop you completely. Healing a wound or broken bone now and then in the shadows, where there was no one there to see. Miracles became your specialty, but your medical knowledge had become your backbone.

    At the end of April, you were surprised to receive a letter from your brother, the contents of it being a plea for you to join him in the war efforts. They needed nurses, trained, knowledgeable, nurses. You would be by his side as much as possible, but you were needed across the sea. And well, if it was your brother asking, who were you to refuse?

Novemver 2nd, 1917

    "You are to keep your medical supplies cleanly and well maintained. I understand that you aren't exactly green in this line of work, but let me tell you, you haven't seen war yet." The senior nurse in front of you has no time for fools, you have only known her for a moment, and yet you know this for a fact. Her pace is fast and purposeful. Her skirt is muddied and stained, and yet her boots do not seem to sink or stick in the mud like yours do as you try your best to keep up with her. Nurse Mary is strict in personality and pace, and you're careful to follow directly behind her throughout the busy encampment. 

Everyone seems to have something urgent to attend to, soldiers and nurses and medics alike all running about through the mud and dirt. There are many hospital tents, many more than you had originally anticipated. You begin to realize exactly why your brother had been so firm in instructing you to refrain from assisting any wounded beyond what help lies within sutures and gauze. 

    “How often do the wounded arrive?” You ask, following her into a rather large hospital tent and passing by various cots with wounded men.

    “You should expect them to arrive every day. The wounded are many, but the dead are more, god rest their souls.”  She tells you, one of her hands clutching the cross around her neck for a moment. There are many things you have learned throughout your schooling, and many gruesome sights you know to expect, but the one thing that still gave you chills was the death toll. You try not to think about it too hard, knowing that it’s just the truth of war that good men go to die. But that doesn’t mean you will ever be forced to be comfortable with it. You pass many rows of wounded soldiers as you follow her through, many being gravely injured with missing and mangled limbs, and shrapnel in places where it should never be. You keep your bedside manner in check, but you know half of those men won’t make it through the night.

    “We should be grateful for the men who return to our care, but please keep in mind that we are the only buffer between them and god. You must understand that losing these men isn’t an if, it’s a when.” You nod solemnly in response to her, quelling the anxiety in your heart. You knew very well that she was right. You casually look around the hospital tent, doing your best to help familiarise yourself with the surroundings when a puff of smoke catches your eye.

    You don’t know where to laugh or scold the man, brown eyes meeting your own as he quickly tries to hide the cigar. Nurse Mary clearly had not seen him, but you certainly did. You can’t help but smile in a baffled sort of way, and the soldier- the quite handsome soldier- smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you. You try not to laugh, choosing to simply shake your head instead of pointing it out to Nurse Mary. It’s something he clearly appreciates, and he tips his head at you, winking as you finally pass him by. You hope you’re not blushing, quickly looking away from him with a smile on your face that you couldn’t fight off.

    “Are you paying attention, Miss? Your brother spoke very highly of your skills, it would be a shame if it were all to be lies.” The nurse ahead of you says, a strict tone in her voice. It almost startles you, bringing you back to earth after the solid minute of distraction the brown-eyed soldier had caused. 

    “I- yes. I apologize. Please, continue.” You reply quickly. You can tell she’s not quite convinced but doesn’t have the time to care, reminding you that there would be little to no time to dally once you had been given decent instruction about the facilities. You’re eager to get to work, and decide that there would be no more distractions today- no matter how charming or handsome they seem to be.

—-

    You were assigned work the moment your walkthrough had been conducted. No downtime, no breaks. You wonder if you truly had any idea how bad things would be where you got here. Seeing the wounded was one thing, but reading their chart was another. You felt detached as you conducted physicals, changed bandages, and redressed wounds and cuts. You checked for infections in those with amputated limbs, knowing that death would soon come for those who were so unfortunate. The difference between any of the men was astounding- wounds from this war unlike any that you had ever seen before. You had heard of the new weapons, the horrors that geniuses had developed so that others would die. It pains you that someone could be so ignorant and cruel- and yet even you hope that you would never have to face those instruments of war.

   Out of all the strange and unusual wounds and war-torn soldiers you met on that day, there was only one who you remembered in truly remarkable detail.

    You see the puff of smoke before you see him, lounging on the backboard of his hospital cot without a care in the world. Besides some old bandages on his chest, you can tell that he’s not in any pain. To be honest, you start to wonder if he belongs in this infirmary at all. He’s distracted, cigar held up to his lips as he takes a deep inhale of the smoke, drowning out his senses with the nicotine. 

    “You must be feeling pretty confident to be breaking the only rule we have in here.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him. He chokes on the smoke rather suddenly, trying to recover as quickly as he can as he puts the cigar out. You give him a sweet smile, trying your best not to laugh. He smiles sort of unabashedly at you, shrugging. 

    “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.” He coughs. You shake your head at him, lifting some papers on your clipboard before you find the one assigned to his cot. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his list of past injuries and causes of infirmary visits. How is this man even alive?

    “Logan Howlett, I presume? You’re pretty perky for a man who has such a long list of injuries.” You state, still reading it through. You’ve never seen this many on one chart before- all dating from the very start of the war to his current visit. Logan gives you a shrug of his shoulders, which isn’t exactly a response you would prefer, but he smiles at you in a charming sort of way that makes your heart flutter. 

    “They call me Lucky Logan for a reason,” Logan hums- causing you to huff a laugh. You shake your head at him, setting the clipboard down on the edge of the bed before you begin conducting a physical and checking on his “wounds.”- not that there really was any besides an odd, yellowed bruise or two that you could almost swear seemed to be lightening by the minute.

    “ ‘You new here?” You glance up at him at the sound of his voice, smiling a bit out of politeness.

   “Why, Is it that easy to tell?” You ask, knowing that he certainly knew so due to him seeing you earlier, but you wonder for a moment if you seemed to be any different from the other nurses. You always strived to be good at what you do, but part of you had a tendency to worry if you could keep up with the others here.

    “Nah,” He says, bluntly. “I just think I’d remember if I had seen a pretty nurse like you before.”  The words make you gape for a moment, that smile still showing as you shake your head at him and try not to laugh. He was a flirt- a rather smooth one too. 

    “Do you use that line on all the ladies?” You tease as you pull out your stethoscope to listen to his heart. You listen, and besides the fact that his heart rate is a little faster than the regular average, you don’t seem to notice anything too strange.

    “Only the ones as pretty as you.” He says. You don’t hold back your laugh at that, and his genuine smile is definitely contagious. You check his eyesight and overall mobility one more time once you’re done, trying not to blush at the way he’s looking at you. You feel his gaze even when you step away to write on his chart, finishing things up.

    “Well, Mr. Howlett, you seem to have a perfect bill of health,” Logan perks up a bit at that, moving to where he can sit on the side of the cot, his feet on the ground. “...but I can’t completely release you just yet. You’re free to wander around some, but you’ll have to wait for the doc to give you one last look-over before you can go back to the frontlines.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, frowning for only a minute before he stands, winking at you as he grabs his shirt from underneath the cot- the bloodied one they wheeled him in here with, no doubt, and puts it on.

    “If that means I’ll be seeing you more often, I’ll take it.” He flirts. You laugh, knowing that you very well might have swooned if you had been any greener to this line of work. Instead, all you can really do is cringe at the sight of his shirt and lean down to the small table to his right, the one where his chart had been, and open the drawer, revealing a freshly clean set of clothes. 

    “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Smokey.” You joke, finding his surprised face rather endearing. It only takes a moment before he’s smirking again, taking the clothes from you and doing a mock toast to you with the cloth. You shake your head at him, trying to keep your smile contained as you walk away from him and over to your next patient.

    You find yourself thinking about him throughout the day, both delighted and somewhat frustrated at yourself for swooning so easily over a soldier- on your first day, too. You had told yourself when you took this job that you would never do such a thing, knowing that so many romances in a time like this end in tragedy- but you certainly couldn’t seem to help it. You think about him when the other nurses talk about their personal soldiers, out there fighting the war, and think about him again before you go to bed. It was frustrating! You met a man and knew him a whole ten minutes before swooning like a schoolgirl. You suppose it felt nice to be wanted nonetheless and felt nice to be complemented by someone you found so handsome… But you didn’t need to be thinking so hard about this right now anyway. You roll over onto your side in your bed, hoping to fall asleep soon instead of spending time thinking about something that won’t happen.

    Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell that your brother would ever approve of any relationship you had with a soldier. You were sure that if he had his way, you would die as a spinster- forever reliant on the family. Your dreams that night are more like nightmares, dreaming of faces and growing old and rocking in a chair alone in your brother’s house, a burden to his finances, his wife, and children. But then there are some dreams where you see the face of one particular soldier, and wonder why you felt so compelled by him.

[vipernoir]

Here's some random headcannons I've thought about Luka for a while

♡ He's not that well liked in his own class and only gets along with a select few at school, and the people he gets along with are the sorts friends you have at school but you don't hang out outside of school if that makes sense?

♡ He's a bisexual king cough cough lukadrien

♡ Also I remember reading a fanfic in a different fandom where they found out their crush was their dad fuck I truly hope Luka didn't have a thing for Jagged yikes

♡ He and Juleka just hang out, paint each others toe nails, dye each others hair, Juleka just uses Luka as a lab rat doing his hair, makeup, maybe even drawing sharpie tattoos on him, but Luka just likes seeing her doing something creative and encouraging her so is more than happy to be said lab rat

♡ Luka respects everybody's music taste, and truly tries to understand every kind of music someone creates/likes even if he isn't partial to it

♡ Anarka raised her twins on the classics; Nirvana, the sex pistols, the cure, the who, Metallica, motley crüe

♡ Both Ju and Luka went through that BVB emo phase, I'm talking full on Andy Sixx makeup, unironically rarw xDing, wearing the billion band wristbands Luka totally still wears some of his

♡ Anarka raised both the twins to live your own life, love who you love, play what's in your heart

♡ Luka has a lot of strong opinions on certain things, and whilst he will always respect and validate someone's different opinion as much as be can he always sticks to his own morals

♡ Luka occasionally does graffiti to promote these morals

♡ He's ran from the cops before for getting caught spray painting ACAB under a bridge

♡ His forgiving nature means he automatically trusts everyone and wants to give them a fair chance, so all of the built up frustration and sadness from being neglected by his own father all of those years is buried under a layer of fake happiness, he hides how he truly feels to give his dad a chance but a strong part of him wants to not forgive him as easy but it just isn't Luka's nature

♡ He's fascinated with bugs, he used to collect them as a child and study them, draw them, watch them, eat them

♡ He has a small following on YouTube for posting covers of popular songs, he isn't that big as he isn't regular with uploading as he just does it when he feels like it

♡ Luka's music taste varies it can go from political pop punk like Mindless Self Indulgence, to more hard-core sounding music like Rob Zombie or Slipknot, only to switch to sadboy sound cloud like lil peep, to then soft pop punk like Paramore, then one minute he's sat listening to old Disney playlists, his music taste is so versatile

♡ Luka definitely obsessed with the camp rock movies as a kid, like him and Ju would sing and dance out all the songs together, always on repeat

♡ I like to think Luka is vegetarian just because either he felt kinda bad eating meat, or Mylenne converted him somewhere down the line

♡ Luka always keeps a spare pair of headphones, a spare guitar pic, and a notebook and pen for lyrics, with him at all times

♡ After his break-up with Mari he started writing sad, heartbreak songs, he wasn't trying to be that cringey but it's all that would come out.

♡ He refuses to play them though, because they're that sad that probably even Chloe would shed a tear hearing them, and he would never want Mari to feel guilty for hurting him in such a bad way

It's 3 am now so ima stop but I have so many Luka crack hc's it's crazy so ill post some more later

[stanuriscurlis]

guys i finally saw chapter 2 last night

I AM NOT OKAY

[wickedpact]

so netflix just announced the schedule for that fan event on saturdays and now its official: there wont be a tog panel. charlize will make an appearance though, alongside other 5 actress in a panel about action movies. there's a moderator so its most likely gonna be a general discussion about the genre with an emphasis on female protagonists - she's certainly going to talk about andy and nile's characters as well as her experience as a producer - and maybe there will be a comment or two about the sequel, but i feel like nothing too specific or revealing and more like a brief statement. i hope i'm wrong tho! i mean they did kinda hint that there would be new content at the panel? (or maybe it was never gonna to happen and we're just clowns being baited yet again).

anyway, i keep wondering if its a case of netflix not giving a shit about promoting the movie, or if it there's another perfectly reasonable explanation for it and i'm being super extra about it.

because really, netflix has a lot of fucking money and they dont usually spare it on their marketing campaigns. and still we get nothing. not before the film came out (if i didnt have access to the gays from tumblr/twitter i would have never even discover the film - it had me at the joenicky gifs, obvs - and still, i had to introduce it to so many people from inside the community who had never heard of it.) and not even after people started engaging with it, basically begging for some crumbles. not a single photo or video of cast together, not any deletes scenes; we're all starving here!!! in fact, netflix just released the raw footage of an audition/chemestry test featuring the actresses from fear street vs the actual scenes from the film - including some dialogue that was cut from it which reveal some background info about the characters - so clearly they understand the appeal. SO WHY CANT WE HAVE THAT

[nonetheless i'm a fool who still hopes that someday we're gonna get more content of them together (i want behind the scenes footage! i wanna know more about their experiences training and shooting the film! i wanna hear funny stories from the set! i wanna see them teasing each other in several languages! also would sell a lung to watch luca and marwan taking part in back to back chef!). ]

anyhow, i honestly find that even when we take into account the global pandemic and its effects, the publicity was kinda wack; we can basically count on one hand how many interviews were made while they were promoting the film.

and i truly dont get it!!!!!!! im not even speaking as fan here. the old guard has the potential to be a hit among several demographics; now that disney took away what used to be netflix's flagship content the competition has never been more fierce in the superhero/ish genre!!! and its not like we're talking about some low-budget film cmon its a significal production with both experienced and emerging actors. its chiwetel ejofior ITS CHARLIZE FUCKING THERON. anyway my point is that in a time when movie theathers were closed and streaming reached its peak tog could - SHOULD - have been much more popular.

SO LIKE. WHY?????? does it have anything to do with skydance and copyrights? re: interviews, can it be that the cast just didnt sign up for this (is that even a thing? i dont know anything about the film industry, clearly)? unlikely for a movie that big i would guess but who knows??? i mean contrary to some hollywood folks most of the cast is extremely private and discrete people (GOOD FOR THEM) so perhaps they have some reservations about it? or we're really just the poor bastards that end up being obssessed with a media no one gives a fuck about it and thats it? WHYYY

p.s.: sorry for the word vomit! this was not supposed to be an essay i just had to get this off my chest and you're the most welcoming blog around these woods. thank you for the tea (or is it coffee? heh) and the biscuits and for always indulging our passionate rants. HAVE A NICE DAY I LOVE YOU

re: TUDUM, geeked week mentioned there will be a little interview thing for greg & leandro so i have a feeling if anything of tog importance will be discussed itll happen then

but yeah i get what youre saying; sometimes i wonder if the reason that theres like no bts content is bc it just.. .doesnt exist? just people didnt film things like chemistry readings or the like while creating tog and thats why theres been basically no crumbs? (but then again, it was gina who took it upon herself to post the hair & makeup test footage AND theres at least one deleted scene that we know of thats never been posted so maybe not)

and yeah it does seem so bizarre since tog got such a big response from audiences (it was one of netflix's most watched original movies!) and critics did actually like it, unlike some of netflix's most watched originals. PLUS it has that ✨ Franchise Potential ✨that everyone has been searching for as of late and it also gives netflix their sought after Woke Points. idk it just seems like they should be leaning into tog as hard as they can but it feels like theyve been largely ignoring it. i mean i get the holdups in regard to finding a new director but other than that the response from netflix has been so underwhelming

[robron1609]

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

[the-most-powerful-ruler]

Random Jackbox headcannons that I wanted to share.

(Possible trigger warnings ahead, prosied with caution.)

The first time Cookie hosted You don't know jack, he was terrified and could barely utter a word.

The YDKJ hosts are a squad and they hang out together.

Schmitty takes anger management classes

The Champed up host is Cookies brother and his name is Chip. (Like, chocolate chip cookie.)

Chip is kind of aggressive towards others when it comes to showing affection to Cookie. He will not hesitate to fight anyone who upsets Cookie (even though he's much smaller than Cookie and will most likely loose a fight.)

Cookie is robophobic and he believes in the conspiracy that highly advanced tech will kill us. (He can handle Iphones and smart watches, but not VR headsets and home assistants and especially AI.)

Nate is totally fine with this belief, as he has interviewed people like this on his radio show Truth Talk 23/7 and has heard much stranger.

The Binjpipe lady is an artificial intelligence female robot called the Artificial Binjpipe Intelligence of ABI (I know it's a terrible acronym but I couldn't think of a good one that spelt something similar to Aby.)

The only reason Cookie agreed to collab with Binjpipe is because Donny forged Cookie's signature on a contract behind his back hoping Cookie could face his fear.

It didn't work and Abi gaslighted Cookie in to thinking she resets him and brainwashed him into thinking he's code and that nothing and nobody he knows is real.

This causes him to neglect his own health, not eat, sleep, or take care of himself, and he eventually lost his mind. Abi planned for this to happen and intended for him to die of malnutrition.

Her plan was to collect data from the Jackbox hosts, put it on a chip, kill the hosts, then download a replica of them onto Binjpipe to put their shows on the streaming service. Aside from being morally messes up, this would've totally drained the life and comedy out of the shows and make them bland and boring.

Nate was suspicious of Abi from the beginning and asked people to send him any info on Binjpipe they could find on his show.

Nate, Schmitty, guy, and Buzz had to save Cookie and rush him to the hospital because by the time they where able to stop Abi, he was to week to even stand up and was incredibly mentally incapacitated.

When Cookie was released from the hospital, he was too week to walk, he barely spoke, and he couldn't think straight or remember anyone or anything. (Basically Cookie is not having a good time.) He's mostly better now but now he's kinda traumatized.

In fact, he was so traumatized that he quit trivia for years (At least until a new YDKJ comes out, if it comes out, and if he's the one who hosts it.)

[REDACTED] insisted on helping Schmitty and Raul (I ship Cookie and Raul) nurse Cookie back to physical health, mental health, and his memory when he was released from the hospital because the state Cookie was in reminded him of the state his mother was in before she died.

[REDACTED'S] Mother had Alzheimer's disease and Redacted helped be her caretaker and would sing her a lullaby she used to sing to him before bedtime. That song was the last thing she heard before she died and her death really hurt Redacted.

[REDACTED] doesn't support su***de, it bumes him out and makes him feel bad for wanting to kill the person.

[REDACTED] Is friends with Schmitty and Schmitty forgives him for torturing him, in fact he acts like it never happened. (Nobody understands why.)

Since [REDACTED] isn't allowed to kill the other hosts, he gives them the dolls he made, kills the dolls when they lose, and makes them stay in 'the looser room,' where they watch a projector screen of the rest of the game and eat snacks.

[REDACTED] Was genuinely hurt when he finds out that you aren't his mother because he was really hurt when she died, and really happy when you got the wig since he thought could see her again

The others heard [REDACTED] in the tattoos mini game, but they couldn't see anything. [REDACTED] purposely left them in the dark about it until they played the mini game to mess with them.

The host of the devil's and the details is a demon who changes his form into a human because his true form would most likely drive the others mad. Also his name is Stan

Stan sees humans as simpletons and he looks down on them. The only human he actually likes is [REDACTED.]

There's a cult related to Stan (Who's real name is Y'thogsomore, pronounced Yo-thogs-a-more) and he thinks the cult is pathetic for following him.

It was really awkward for Cookie to find out that one of his old cats is now anthropomorphic and a game show host.

Back when Mayonnaise was a normal cat, he would somehow change the channel on the TV to The Twilight Zone and watch it whenever Cookie fell asleep while watching TV.

Cookie is a cat dad.

Felicia was surprised to find out that none of the hosts were dating each other, so she threw a make out party to try to have set them up, it didn't work and she just made everyone uncomfortable.

She wasn't allowed to do that for a long time. She's now allowed to hold singles mixers, just as long as she doesn't be as pushy as the first time.

Glargan O'Toe is and Alien who wears a space suit while on Earth. He has one eye and he glows in the dark

Glargan O'Toe likes to go to Clubs and parties

Glargan O'Toe is good friends with Felicia, and they share a single brain cell.

Gene sees DODE as an angel since he's always sent to hell and he loves her.

Toby, Lena, The shadow master, and Rachel had to save Gene from a terrible co-worker relationship (I'll spare you the details but let's just say that my version of the survive the internet host is not a nice person.)

The host of Guesspionage (Whom I've taken to call "Andy") is dating the CEO of Binjpipe (who I like to call "Malefica.")

Malefica has a daughter named Petunia who hates Andy, and Any doesn't like her.

Chip always presents himself as a ride and immature little man who holds grudges too easily and will see you as dead to him if you get on his bad side, but he's a nice guy once you get to know him.

When Chip heard that Cookie quit trivia, he was like 'Well it's about time, all that trivia stuff was so lame." When really he was shocked and genuinely upset for Cookie

When Cookie and Chip where kids, they would do this cute thing where they'd dress up as the Snow miser and heat miser and sing their songs (Cookie was always the Snow miser and Chip was always the heat miser.)

I like call son of Mayonnaise and the Mother from monsters seeking monsters (and that's not me shipping something weird, that's actually cannon) is named Mustard.

I'm just gonna go out and assume that they adopted Mustard.

Cookie was not happy at the mother when he learned that she was seeing mayonnaise

Schmitty absolutely hated almost every show on Binjpipe.

Beatboxing and rapping is a hobby that Gene picked up.

Gene always gets nervous and awkward when playing patently stupid, wich is why he makes and presents strange inventions. Toby and Lena try not to judge him, but sometimes they're just too weird

The host of Bidiots is a total hypocrite. He judges and scolds the other hosts for being so weird and sometimes violent, when really he isn't really any better.

Cookie's hair used to be black. One day he dyed his hair brown, but left some spots black to make it look like a chocolate chip cookie.

That all for now. I may come up with more when other Jackbox party packs come out. I'm sorry if anything here triggered anyone.

[you-can-call-me-wanda]

Oblivious

Pairing: Nasty Suicide x Reader (Requested)

Author’s Note: I kinda really like this one so I hope you do too!

Nasty stood in front of the dingy mirror in the backstage dressing room, running his fingers through is somewhat dirty locks of hair. Hanoi Rocks was set to take the stage in about a half an hour, so he and the rest of the band were currently preening and prepping for the show.

Andy and Michael were the only other two in the dressing room with Nasty. They too were busy adjusting scarves and jewelry and teasing their hair.

“Hey Nasse,” Andy called from across the tiny room, not bothering to turn his gaze away from his own reflection, “Did you hear (Y/N)’s coming tonight?”

Nasty dropped his hands from his head and turned to face Andy’s form. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?” he asked.

Andy and Michael both looked away from what they were doing to share a smirk with the other. Nasty got the feeling they were up to something and did not like it one bit.

“What?” he pressed, now that both the other men were fully facing him with their stupid little smiles. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” Andy said, feigning innocence. “I just thought you’d like to know.” With that, he turned back to the mirror and began messing with the buttons of his blouse.

Now Nasty was even more confused. He turned to Michael who always seemed more reasonable than Andy in these types of situations.

“Mike,” Nasty practically whined, “why is it so important that (Y/N)’s coming to our show?”

Michael must have felt some pity for the boy because he did supply a little bit more of an answer to his question than Andy had.

“It’s really not that important,” Mike said with a sympathetic smile. “We just thought maybe you’d want to know.”

“But why?” Nasty asked again, beginning to grow frustrated with all the secretive looks his mates were sharing and their avoidance of answering the question. “Just tell me,” he demanded, crossing his arms and setting his friends with a firm look.

“Oh my god,” Andy groaned. “It’s like everyone knows but you. I swear you and (Y/N) are the two most oblivious people I know.”

Nasty opened his mouth to ask even more questions, but Michael beat him to speaking.

“Look Nasty, we love you man, but are you really that daft? You and (Y/N) totally have the hots for each other,” Mike said whilst fixing Nasty with an exasperated look and turned away from his friend to reapply his lipstick.

Nasty, meanwhile, was having a mini aneurism. Him and (Y/N)? What? No, they were just friends. It wasn’t like that. Or was it? Suddenly, he was thinking back to all the times you and he had spent together. All those nights when you had come back to the house after a gig and stayed up with him and the guys all night. Those times where the two of you had gotten bored after everyone had gone to sleep or passed out and had gone out and rode the underground for hours, just talking and laughing. You hadn’t needed anything more than each other’s company. He thought back to the nights where the two of you got completely shit-faced after a night at the pub and danced and sang at the top of your lungs in the London streets until the neighbors threatened to call the cops. He remembered the night you came to him crying after your landlord had kicked you out. How he’d let you spend the night in his room with him. He remembered thinking how beautiful you looked, even when you were sleeping and hogging all the covers. He thought about all the hugs you had shared, all the smiles you had gifted him, and all the corny jokes you’d made him laugh with.

Oh shit. He was in love with you.

“Oh shit.”

Michael and Andy both broke out into cackling laughter at Nasty’s expense. The poor boy looked like he had come to the biggest realization of his life.

“You really didn’t know?” Andy asked through fits of laughter. “Everyone else did.”

If it was possible, Nasty’s eyes grew even wider. “What do you mean everyone else did? Does (Y/N) know?” he asked, panicking at the idea of you having realized he had feelings for you before even he did.

“Well,” Michael said, “everyone but (Y/N) knows.”

Nasty let out a small sigh of relief. Nervously, he reached up to tug at his hair. “What do I do now?” he asked his friends. “Should I say something? What if (Y/N) doesn’t like me back?” He was now stressing over how he was going to keep his cool when he saw you tonight.

Andy barked out another laugh and clapped Nasty on the shoulder. “Relax mate, (Y/N) likes you too.”

“They do?”

“Oh my god, that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” Michael said, resisting the urge to facepalm. “I think the two of you should talk after the show, get this all sorted out, because if this nonsense keeps going on for any much longer the rest of us are going to lose are minds.”

“Nonsense?” Nasty asked, but at this point in the conversation his mind was focused on a million different things. He liked (Y/N). (Y/N) liked him. Everyone knew. It was a lot for him to process in less than ten minutes.

“You two keep dancing around each other and the way you feel and it’s making me sick,” Andy responded. “So we’re gonna go play our show and afterwards when you see (Y/N), you are confessing your feelings,” Andy said. Nasty almost felt like he was being scolded.

“But-”

“Or I’m telling (Y/N) how you feel,” Andy threatened. “Now let’s go. It’s almost time for us to take the stage.”

 The show went by in a haze for Nasty. He played fine, but his mind was entirely elsewhere. How was he supposed to confess his feelings for you, especially when he just realized them himself? He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely recognized that their set had ended. It wasn’t until Sami began nudging him offstage did he realize it was over.

He knew you would be backstage waiting for him and the rest of the band. You always were when you attended one of their gigs. The six of you would leave the venue shortly after and typically hit up a pub or two afterwards.

Nasty made a beeline for the dressing room the second he stepped foot off the stage. He didn’t lift his head up and look around for you. No, he was too terrified that he’d catch your eye and have to go over and talk to you. He wasn’t ready! All that time spent thinking on stage and he still had no idea how to tell you how he felt.

Looking in the mirror, he tried to hype himself up.

It’s just (Y/N). You’ve been friends for years. You can do this.

Nasty decided to change clothes before he went to speak with you. Not only because the hot lights of the stage had made him all sweaty and uncomfortable, but because he wanted to look a little more presentable for when he saw you.

He always brought a spare shirt with him to gigs since he normally sweated through his stage clothes. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some random t shirt thrown into his bag. Now, he was wishing he had thought out what he had brought a little more carefully. There was nothing inherently wrong with the spare shirt he had brought, it just didn’t do him any favors. What was once a plain black t shirt was now a thin, faded grey shirt with various stains of unknown origin on it. Not to mention, it was a size or two too small for him.

Not really having any other choice, he threw the shirt on and examined his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he normally would when he saw you, a little sweaty, hair all tangled up, mismatched clothes and accessories thrown on. How could Andy possibly think that you would like him back? You always looked so good, so effortlessly cool and he, well he looked like a sewer rat.

A knock at the door jolted him out of his pity party.

“Come in!” he called out, assuming it was just one of his bandmates checking to make sure he wasn’t naked before barging in.

To his surprise though, it was you who opened the door to the dressing room. At the sight of your face, Nasty swallowed thickly with nerves.

“Hey,” you greeted, smiling easily, “Andy told me I could find you in here.”

“Oh,” Nasty said, trying to muster up any coherent sentence to say to you. “Oh,” he said again. He cursed himself internally for not being able to come up with anything smooth or witty.

You didn’t seem to take any notice though. Instead, you hopped up onto the table sitting in the corner of the room and took a seat.

“Andy said you wanted to talk to me,” you said, tilting your head to the side and examining the man in front of you. Nasty seemed on edge, which was unusual for him. He was normally so carefree, the life of the party. He had even appeared to be a little nervous on stage too.

“He did?” Nasty asked, not meeting your eyes. His gaze focused on your feet instead, swinging back and forth as they hung off the edge of the table.

“Yeah,” you answered, perplexed by his shy behavior. “Is something wrong? You seem off,” you pointed out.

Finally, he lifted his head to meet your worried eyes. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” he stammered. “I just, um, well.”

“Just what?” you urged gently. Whatever it was that was bothering your friend, you wanted to be there to help him out with it.

Nasty cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “(Y/N), I um, well, I really like you. You’re one of my best friends.”

“I really like you too dumbass,” you said with a chuckle. “That’s what you had to tell me?”

In this moment, Nasty knew he had two options. He could agree with you, laugh it off, and pretend he had nothing more to say. He could do that, or he could continue. He could tell you how he really felt. He could take the risk of losing you or making things awkward by confessing his love. He thought back to Michael assuring him that you felt the same way and Andy threatening to tell you the truth if Nasty wouldn’t. He decided to take the risk.

“Well no. That’s not all,” he said.

Nasty’s voice got all quiet and serious. You had never really seen him like this before. You straightened your back and strained to listen to what he had to say.

“I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. I guess I just never took a step back and looked at things,” he said, biting his lip. “I guess it’s been fairly obvious to other people though,” he said, huffing out a small laugh. “I think I’m in love with you (Y/N). I want to be more than just best friends with you.”

It was silent after his confession. All you could do was stare at him. His words were still ringing in your head. Nasty loved you? Nasty wanted to be more than just friends?

Nasty took your surprised expression as a bad sign. Clearly, you hadn’t seen this coming and were trying to process what he had just revealed to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat and continued to apologize. “I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I’m so sorry (Y/N). Andy and Mike, they tried to tell me it was a good idea to let you know, but I shouldn’t have listened to them. God, I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

His apologies shook you out of your state of shock. You hurriedly hopped off the table you were sitting on and rushed to the rambling boy who was now looking very distraught.

“No, no, Nasty, don’t apologize!” you said, grabbing onto his upper arms. “It’s okay, nothing’s ruined.”

“How is it not ruined?” Nasty said in a much louder voice now. He was obviously getting very worked up and upset. “How can we go back to being friends after what I just said?”

You soothingly ran your hands up and down his arms, trying to calm him. “I thought you said you wanted to be more than just friends?” you asked lightly, giving his biceps a gentle squeeze.

“What?”

“I thought you wanted to be more than friends. So why does it matter if things can’t go back to the way they were before?”

Nasty looked deep into your eyes, searching for any form of deception. “What are you trying to say?” he asked.

“I’m trying to say that I think I love you too,” you said, moving your hands up to caress along his jawline. “I’m trying to say that I feel the same way.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you mocked.

“So, it would be okay if I kissed you?” he asked, looking down longingly at your lips.

“Please.”

[violetwolfraven]

A sudden revelation came to me : the big twin besties!!! Davey Sarah Mike Ike would be chaos if they’re together but that is okay bcs we love them. That is all thank you💕

They would!! I’m gonna do them in modern AU, so I hope that’s okay, Rai!!

This is going to be pure chaos. Nothing else. Literally no part of this is serious. It’s just pure dumbassery among friends.

Also Les definitely does dance competitions. He goes to the same studio as Race. He competes in a mini division and he does tap and hip hop and his group wins. Fight me.

Tw: swearing.

...

“Davey, pop the popcorn faster!” Sarah hollered from the living room.

“Sarah, shut the fuck up!” Davey hollered back. He loved his sister, but she annoyed the hell out of him.

Well, Les did, too. He guessed it was a sibling thing in general, but there was something about knowing someone since before birth that gave you a special ability to get on their nerves.

Plus, it wasn’t like he could make the microwave work any faster.

“What are we watching tonight?” he called while he waited.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sarah shouted indignantly.

At the same time, Mike yelled, “We’re binge-watchin’ Liv and Maddie!”

“Oh, of course! That’s so fuckin’ obvious!” Davey shook his head, wishing he could stop himself from smiling as he muttered to himself, “We’re such huge fucking dorks.”

They were, of course, watching Liv and Maddie because they were two sets of twins left alone in a house for the night, and that tv show was about a pair of twins. The Jacobs parents were taking Les to a dance competition and the Guzman parents were going to a wedding.

Honestly, Davey was pretty sure they’d left them all together because out of the four of them, Sarah was the only good cook, Mike was the only good driver, Ike was the one who knew how to operate a can opener, and Davey was the one with common sense. Together, they formed a fully-functional teenager.

Also, they all already had partners, so the parents trusted them to be left alone all night together, unlike when Sarah and Ike asked if they could have Jojo, Hotshot, Katherine, and Jack over, too.

Davey heard the TV start up and silently willed the microwave to work faster.

“Ya can’t start without Davey, Sar—“

“Ike, I don’t know how to break this to ya, but I don’t give a shit.”

Honestly, Davey had expected that, “Thanks for tryin’, Ike!”

“No problem, Dave!”

The popcorn finally finished popping, and Davey grabbed the huge bag of M&Ms on the way out of the kitchen with it before going to join his sister and friends in watching Liv and Maddie’s shenanigans.

Ah yes. The ultimate twin night. Admittedly, the feral energy of all four of them was better than it would’ve been if it was just him and Sarah.

And Ike was smirking at his phone, which of course meant Davey had to tease him.

“Textin’ Hotshot, huh?” he asked, poking him in the shoulder.

Ike batted his hand away, “Shut up.”

Mike laughed, “Ooh, that means there’s somethin’ to hide.”

Sarah slung an arm around his shoulders, “Are you gonna fight? Cause I honestly can’t decide who’d win.”

“Nope,” Davey said automatically, “Can’t do that. We can’t have any death matches destroying the living room or our folks will never let us do this again.”

“I guess the blood would ruin your carpet.”

“Well, Mikey, it’s not like I don’t know how to get blood out of things.”

“Why—oh. Okay.”

Sarah laughed maniacally at the look on his face. It wasn’t that he looked grossed out or anything, just kind of surprised to be thinking about it.

Davey was pretty familiar with having to grab spare pads from the hall closet if the bathroom ran out and tagging along on milkshake runs during Sarah’s time of month, but he guessed a boy without sisters wouldn’t have to think about that kind of thing.

“So, how are things with Hotshot?” he asked, changing the subject.

Ike shrugged, “Good. How’s Jack?”

“He’s over here like, all the time,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes, “Or Davey’s over there. It’s cute in a gross way.”

“Fight me, Sarah. You’re the same way with Katherine.”

“Bitch—“

“Stuff with Jojo is good, by the way,” Mike chimed in, “God, I love him.”

“We get it, you’re cute, now shut up.”

Sarah swatted him, “That’s not very nice, Isaac.”

“Yeah, those are bold words from someone who’s baby pictures I have access to,” Mike agreed.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, bitch.”

“Again, we can’t have a death match without destroying stuff,” Davey reminded them, “So can we just kick back and watch our show?”

Ike butted his head against Davey’s shoulder like a cat affectionately, “We should skip forward a couple seasons so we can watch Liv and Holden break up and cry.”

“No,” Sarah said immediately, “My eyeliner looks really good today.”

“You’re at a sleepover,” Davey pointed out, “Why did you even do your eyeliner?”

“David, I swear to God.”

“You swear to God what?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Mike said, reaching over to hug her, “You look fuckin’ amazing and you and Kathy usually make the rest of us look like slobs.”

“Aw, thanks Michael.”

“Don’t call me Michael.”

They actually managed to watch about half the episode without talking, before Ike shattered the silence.

“Okay, but do we think Joey’s gay?”

“I think Willow’s obsession with him is creepy and it’s super questionable how the writers played it off for laughs,” Mike admitted, “I think Joey does like girls, though. He has chemistry with a few different girls for like one episode each.”

“But he definitely has a thing for Josh in the later seasons,” Sarah pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. Good point. Maybe he’s bi or pan.”

Davey had never thought he’d have a conversation like this, but he had to admit they had a point.

“Maddie and Willow would’ve made a cute couple,” he said, “Maddie can’t drive. That alone is proof she’s not straight. And Liv had chemistry with Holden, but she would’ve been cute with Andie, too.”

“Oh, preach, bro,” Ike agreed, “And I think one of my first crushes when I was in middle school was actually on Parker from Liv and Maddie, so...”

“Parker’s bi and ace,” Mike said immediately, “I’m callin’ it. I don’t even need any evidence; just by vibes. He’s just this bi-ace mad scientist.”

“But seriously,” Sarah insisted, “Joey had a thing for Josh and I think it was requited.”

Davey rolled his eyes, “Duh. Was that ever up for debate after that one episode where the only thing that made Josh feel better about his breakup with Maddie was Joey?”

“So in short, none of the Rooney siblings are straight,” Mike concluded.

“Yup.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yes.”

Davey smirked, “Kinda like how none of the siblings in this room are straight.”

“Aw,” Mike grinned, “Are you sayin’ you sees Ike and I as siblings?”

“More like we’re all in a cult and we call each other siblings, Brother Mike.”

“Oh yes of course, Brother Davey.”

“You’re both ridiculous.”

“Are you actin’ like you have custody of the brain cell, Sister Sarah?”

“No, of course not, Brother Ike. Brother Davey has it. He just never uses it.”

“I use the brain cell frequently, thank you very much,” Davey said indignantly, “Just not in conversations with people who don’t even have one.”

“Oh, burn!” Ike shouted, and Davey accepted a high five.

It looked like Sarah didn’t have anything to say to that. Probably because she didn’t have the brain cell.

Whatever. If the Rooney siblings could survive with only one brain cell, which the youngest sibling always had, Davey was pretty sure the four of them could, too.

...

This probably makes no sense if you’ve never seen Liv and Maddie. I’m sorry.

[djmunden]

Thousand Scars Author Interview

Hey guys, back with a new isolation interview! I’ll have an SPFBO author interview ready for the weekend, but I’d like to bring back an old survivor of the Scar den in Deston Munden. Hope you guys enjoy! 

First of all, tell me about yourself! What do you write?

Hello again! I’m Deston J. Munden, former SPFBO writer and now resident stuck in the house author. I’m a science fiction and fantasy author who is surviving all this craziness by stuffing his head full on Dungeons and Dragons characters and learning how to cook neat food. I’m the author of two series, Dargath Chronicles and Dusk Orbit Blues, both which are getting an audiobook real soon. It’s a pleasure to be back.

How do you develop your plots and characters?

I’ve been asked this quite a few times and I never feel like my answers are satisfactory, but nevertheless true. They just kinda come to me. There are small inciting events that makes me want to develop a character or a plot. It could just be me sitting and reading. It could just me be playing a game or roleplaying a completely unrelated character.  From there, I put them on what I called the simmer mode. I slowly develop them in my head until they are ready for the drafting phase.

Tell the world about your current project!

Dargath is a fun, high fantasy world that I created a while back. It’s a world where everyone has magic and no one is truly human. I wanted to create a world where magic was a common stance and everyone has a degree of it that is unique to them. Also, I wanted a world where the reader doesn’t go in with the natural biasness of starting with a human. Yes, there are human-like races, but I wanted to have this mystical feeling to everything. The world is split into two continents, eight races, and plenty of subraces. It’s rich in history, politics, and turmoil while also having that classic dungeons and dragons type of feeling to the world. If that seems like your type of thing, try me out!

Who would you say is the main character of your latest novel? And tell me a little bit about them!

Ser Torlyek is the main character of the novel that is coming out later this year. I’ve been marketing him as Neville Longbottom meets Thor from the MCU and Steven Universe. He’s my first autistic main character who adores knights and honor beyond anything else. He’s also a complex character who has a deep backstory with his family. Duke’s Brand follows him as he comes to terms with who he is now as well as him making friends along the way. I hope that you guys enjoy him as much as I enjoyed writing him.

Have you been to any conventions? If so, tell me a little about them!

I’ve been to so many conventions! They are some of my favorite places to go for vacations. They are so lively and powerful, and you get to meet so many fellow nerds. My goal this year was to finally sell my books at a convention. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Now, I’m going through convention withdrawal. If you never gone to a convention before, I’ll honestly suggest that you try it out. There are so many cool things that you can find and you’ll meet so many cool people.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

I realized that I wanted to be a writer when I was young. Luckily, none of my teachers tried to squash that love. Instead, they tried their hardest to cultivate the talent that they saw. I always wrote fan fictions and loved the creative writing assignments given to me. But, it wasn’t until after college where I realized this was a career I could do. Self-publishing opened an entirely new opportunity for me and ever since I’ve been pushing myself more and more to expand my dream into a reality.

If you had the opportunity to live anywhere in the world for a year while writing a book that took place in that same setting, where would you choose?

Rome, hands down. There’s so much history there that I would love to explore and set a story within. I think it would be fun to explore the mythology and the people of rome and wrapping that up in a story that I would write.

What advice would you give new writers?

Finish. That. First. Draft. I’ve seen so many new writers get into what I call the world building loop or worse the first chapter loop. Its when a new writer keeps world building or writing the first chapter endlessly until the end of time. That is not how you’re going to improve. You’re going to have to finish that first draft at one point or another. Not to say pre-writing is not important, however, if you’re stuck on it you need to start on the first draft. As a new writer, learning how to finish a project is key.

What real-life inspirations did you draw from for the worldbuilding?

Too many. I usually get inspiration from history, cultures, food, architecture, generally whatever that I think would make my world feel richer and livelier. Each of the races are inspired somewhat after certain regions of our world albeit blended in such a way to better fit the region I’m going for. I’ve used things from Africa, the Middle East, Medieval Europe, Egypt, etc to make my world feel stronger and cohesive. It’s a fun experience as a history and culture nerd.

What inspires you to write?

I enjoy it. That’s the long and short of it all. Writing is a passion of mine. I love sitting down at the computer and letting my imagination go wild. There’s a magic to it all. I used to write after I finished my schoolwork in class just for fun. I didn’t realize that was weird until my teacher saw me doing it while everyone else was playing games on the computer. Writing is my creative outlet and without it I might burst.

What is the hardest part of writing for you?

The hardest part for me is keeping the pace with everything. There’s a lot that goes into be an author. Some days I just want to sit down and write, but I know I can’t do that all the time. There are days where I’m going to have to research, do my social media, and market the books I already have released. Managing my time has become quite difficult.

What is your routine when writing, if any? If you don’t follow a routine, why not?

My routine is usually 8-4 every weekday. If I don’t follow this schedule, I will and can work myself to death.

What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write in any of your books, and why?

This is spoiler territory. There’s a certain scene in Tavern that I really enjoy that has made people lose their marbles and I always laugh manically about when I get a message about it. Recently though, I’ve been getting a lot of “OMG” about a certain scene in the middle of Dusk Mountain Blues. It makes me giggle. I might be evil.

What these two scenes have in common is that I throw the reader for a loop. I love doing that.  

Did you learn anything from writing your latest book? If so, what was it?

Writing Duke’s Brand and Dusk Ocean Blues taught me a lot how to condense my writing style a bit. Lately, I’ve been trying to hone my writing style a bit. I feel like writing these two books has helped that a lot going forward.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? A gardener or an architect?

I am definitely a pantser. I’m all about writing it and winging it until I get to the second draft.

If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to?

Definitely snacks. I can give up music if I had to, but snacks I need to survive. I can’t imagine how I’ll get through certain parts of my novel without snacking on some chips or some other ungodly unhealthy food or beverage.

Which is your favorite season to write in, and why?

Spring. There is something about the temperature and the outside environment that brings out the power in me.

It’s sometimes difficult to get into understanding the characters we write. How do you go about it?

It’s all about learning how that character ticks. The big thing I’ve realized about getting in the mindset of a character is knowing their motivation. A person drive and ambition tell a lot about the character as a whole and getting into the mindset of them. You gotta realize what they want to realize who they are. From there, I think, their personalities, dreams, relationships, etc becomes more apparent the more you write it.

What are your future project(s)?

Dusk Ocean Blues (Book 2 of Dusk Orbit Blues)

Undergrove (Book 3 of Dargath Chronicles)

Dusk Country Blues (Book 3 of Dusk Orbit Blues)

What is your favorite book ever written?

I’m pleading the fifth here. I enjoy all the books that I’ve written so far. There are parts where I feel like I’ve done better in this book while others in that one. So at the end the day, I can’t choose.

Who are your favorite authors?

Traditionally Published: Brandon Sanderson, Patrick Rothfuss, Michael J. Sullivan, Robert Jordan, Scott Lynch, Jonathan French, Brent Weeks, Sean Grisby, and Gareth L. Powell, Renee April.

Self Published: James Jakins, Emmet Moss, Deck Matthews, Andy Peloquin, Bernard Bertram, Garrett B. Robinson.

There’s probably a million more.

What makes a good villain?

A good motivation and a strong personality. I’m the type of person that enjoys a big personality in my villain over sheer fear and power they may possess. The villains that have a good time while also having depth speak out to me. Yes, I do enjoy the looming dark lord type villain as well, but if I can somehow get both I’m a happy camper.

What do you like to do in your spare time?

Cooking! It’s my favorite past time other than video games and tabletop RPGs. I’m not as good as it as other people, but I’m trying my best and I’m learning every day!

If you couldn’t be an author, what ideal job would you like to do?

A chef! Like I said before, cooking is a fun hobby and being a chef/cook would be a fun job for me. I also like to bake, so a baker would be not too far behind. I just like working with food.

Coffee or Tea? Or (exult deep breath) what other drink do you prefer, if you like neither?

Tea! There are so many different types of teas and most which I can drink (because I can’t have a lot of caffeinated beverages). I prefer fruity teas, but I’m willing to try any of it.

You can travel to anywhere in the universe. Where would you go, and why?

Whew. I don’t know. I’ll probably want to try to find new planets to explore, specifically with new life.

Do you have any writing blogs you recommend?

No. I don’t have any writer blogs that I’ll recommend but check out the #writerblr tag on tumblr if you need any inspiration!

Do you have any writer friends you’d like to give a shoutout to?

Nicky Ball, Kathryn York, Hallie Fleischmann, Chris Barber, Dave Deickman, Emmet Moss, Bernard Bertram, and Deck Matthews to name a few!

Pick any three fiction characters. These are now your roadtrip crew. Where do you go and what do you do?

Clay Cooper from Kings of the Wyld, Matrim Couthon from Wheel of Time, and Wayne from The Alloy of Law.  

We’re gonna go on a rock-star tour and we’re gonna cause some trouble.

What superpower would you most like?

Super Strength. I know that’s a simple power to want to have but it would just make my life a whole lot easier. Being able to pick up a lot of things would be amazing.

What are two of your favorite covers of all time? (Not your own.)

Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames

Eye of the World by Robert Jordan

It’s a very difficult time right now for the world. When quarantine and pandemic comes to an end, what is the first thing you would like to do?

Travel more and meet some of my online friends. My goal this year was to travel more, get out there, and meet some of the people that I’ve been talking to for ages. The quarantine and pandemic put that to a screeching halt. I want to go to more conventions, I want to see more places, and I want just enjoy life more. This whole situation made me realize that I haven’t been out nearly as much as I want to be.

Finally, what is your preferred method to have readers get in touch with or follow you (i.e., website, personal blog, Facebook page, here on Goodreads, etc.) and link(s)?

Remember to follow me everywhere below and it was great coming back!

Website: www.djmunden.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Deston-J-Munden/e/B07Q2D6948/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SrBuffaloKnight

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authordjmunden/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/D.J.Munden/

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18874896.Deston_J_Munden If you have Kindle Unlimited, both of my books are available there too!

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Lost Boy (Chapter 4: The Past)

Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.

Prologue

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Tag list: @delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping, @mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath, @mirrorslover,@opatrickr, @justkimberley, @burning-hot-pan, @green-lemonboys, @anotherangelfromspace, @thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle, @thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash

............

David Bowie’s “Changes” was playing loudly from the speakers. The Red Rooster wasn’t quite as crowded since it was a weekday, just a couple of adults examining the instruments and a few kids browsing through the stuff or playing with the instruments.

Bobbing his head along to the music, T.J. flipped through the records nonchalantly. On the opposite side of the rack, Andi was prattling on and on about Art Club and all her ideas to contribute. T.J. had to smile at her enthusiasm – the girl had a way of easing his tension.

Cyrus was right about her – she was a sweet one.

“So, how’s adjusting to Shadyside life?” she randomly asked. “Have you fully embraced our little town?”

T.J. hummed. “A small town has pros and cons.”

“What’s a pro?”

“Everyone knows everyone so we’ve had a new visitor almost everyday, welcoming us to the neighborhood and bringing food. Mom has taken a break from cooking.”

“That sounds nice! And a con?”

T.J. made a face. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Andi laughed, shaking her head. “You get used to it. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

She didn’t realize it but it was the opening T.J. needed. “So…you’ve probably grown up with almost everyone at Grant, then?”

“Pretty much.”

“So…who else do you hang out with? Aside from Libby and Walker.”

Libby and Walker were Andi’s art club friends – she introduced them to T.J. a few days ago. Libby was deaf but, like Andi, she could make headbands, jewelry, and clothing out of anything she could get her hands on. Meanwhile, Walker was a happy-go-lucky painter and caricaturist.

The three of them together were a walking art machine. So, it made T.J. wonder where Buffy and Cyrus fell in before the latter passed away.

“Jonah Beck and I hang out sometimes,” she casually stated.

T.J. knew him – he was in his English class. He was a pretty dude, but not really T.J.’s type.

“And…” she trailed off, her earlier beaming smile turning sad.

“And?” T.J. prodded, hoping he wasn’t being too annoying.

Andi cleared her throat. “And there’s my best friend Buffy.” She didn’t mention Cyrus, at all. “But we haven’t really hung out in a while. She’s been busy pursuing other things and so have I.”

“Oh, okay.” T.J. racked his brains for something else to say. “Oh yeah, tomorrow is basketball tryouts. Honestly, I’m kinda nervous.”

Andi flashed him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Uh… do you want to come and watch? For moral support? I could use it.”

Sure, he could always ask Amber but he needed Andi there. It was important.

Without missing a beat, Andi nodded. “Sure! I’ll be there!”

“Great! Thanks, Andi. That means a lot.”

“Anytime!” She looked down and grinned. Pulling out a Cyndi Lauper record, she covered her face with it. “Do I look like a girl who just wants to have fun?”

T.J. laughed. “Totally.”

…….

T.J. felt him before he heard him.

“Hey, Sixth Sense.”

Chuckling as he looked up from his homework. “I think you’re running out of nicknames, Ghost Boy.”

Cyrus beamed from where he sat, perched on T.J.’s desk, as always. Thus, the latter had chosen to do his homework on his bed, instead.

“So, how was your day?” the ghost asked.

“Pretty good. I hung out with your friend Andi after school. She’s fun.”

“Told ya!”

He answered the last question on his History homework before shutting his notebook and textbook and moving them to the side. He locked gazes with Cyrus.

“Where do you go when you’re not here?” T.J. asked, curiously.

“Oh. Just around.”

A simple and straightforward answer. But, it still left a lot of questions.

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been living together for pretty much two weeks now. You can drop the whole mysterious act.”

“Maybe I wanna keep on being mysterious,” Cyrus replied, looking smug.

T.J. opened his mouth to answer but a knock on his door interrupted.

“It’s open!” he called out.

The door cracked a smidge and Amber poked her pretty blonde head in. 

“Are you talking to someone in here?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

T.J. flashed a look at where Cyrus was before meeting his sister’s eyes.

She turned pale. “Oh.”

Even though he had already explained to her that Cyrus was a good ghost and had no intention of hurting her, she still wasn’t fond of the idea of there being a ghost in their house, at all. She rarely ever went to T.J.’s room because of this.

“Well… uh… Mom will probably be home soon and if she hears you talking to yourself, she’ll think you’ve gone nuts.”

T.J. hummed. “Pretty sure we’re past that.”

“T.J.,” Amber seethed. “She thought you were doing drugs when she saw you talking to yourself last year!”

“And I told her I’m clean now.”

“You never did drugs to begin with!”

T.J. spared a look in Cyrus’ direction just to see his eyes wide in rapt attention.

Great. He was definitely going to get questions now. Maybe he could distract him. The boy was easily distracted by one thing or another. He was probably the type who never held grudges when he was alive.

“Look, the walls here are not paper thin like the apartment,” T.J. explained. “So, there’s no way she’ll hear. And her room is on the other side of the house. I’ll be fine. And I’m careful.”

Amber still didn’t look convinced but nonetheless, she nodded. Taking one last nervous look around the room, she swallowed.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back to my room. And… make sure it doesn’t follow me?”

Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “Tell her I have no intention of doing so. I’m a gentleman.”

T.J.’s lips twitched. “He won’t follow you. Don’t worry.”

Amber nodded again before quickly pulling her head back and closing the door.

“Your sister is very… paranoid,” Cyrus stated.

T.J. sighed. “She doesn’t have the best experience with ghosts.”

Cyrus nodded, sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

He was about to say “no” but paused, considering the idea.

No one else knew about the story – only him and Amber. He knew she still had nightmares about it. That memory would even make its way into his dreams and he would wake up sweating with his heart thumping so hard that it hurt. Always – for a brief moment – he would be back in that room in their apartment in San Francisco.

Cyrus was suddenly gone from the desk.

“I was raised by four psychologists,” his voice spoke right next to T.J. 

The blonde almost jumped ten feet into the air. “Dude! You’ve got to stop doing that! Just walk towards me!”

Cyrus laughed. “Sorry! I haven’t considered that you might be startled by that. I’m just so used to doing it and no one really reacting. But, I’ll try to stop, I promise.”

T.J. huffed. “You better. What if I get a heart attack and drop dead right here? I’ll haunt you forever.”

“We’ll be ghost buddies, then! Together for all eternity!”

T.J.’s cheeks burned and his heart skipped a beat. That was not the answer he expected. 

Cyrus’ laugh diminished to a soft smile. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, it might make you feel better. And, like I said, I was raised by four psychologists. Well, three psychologists and a life coach, but same deal. So, I’m a pretty good listener. I’m here if you need me.”

It was kind of funny how Cyrus could go from extremely comical to touchingly sweet, all in a span of ten seconds.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.” T.J. scraped his nails against one jean-covered knee. “It’s just not the most pleasant memory. And only Amber and I really know about it. Mom…she doesn’t know everything that happened. She doesn’t know about my abilities, at all, and…”

“That’s why she thought you were doing drugs?”

T.J. let out a chuckle devoid of humor. “I should have been more vigilant.” He let out a deep breath. “Anyway… what happened… well… Remember when I told you I started seeing my grandma’s ghost when I was 6?”

Cyrus nodded.

“Well, she wasn’t the only ghost in our apartment.”

The image of a little girl, her hair in pigtails and wearing a long pink dress, floated in his mind.

“Her name was Emily. She was around 6 when she died. Probably why she latched on to me because we were the same age. I didn’t mind playing with her and all. And she was kinda fun.” He chuckled. “Mom thought I had an imaginary friend.”

He was silent for a moment, recalling every moment with Emily. Meeting her. Agreeing to be her friend. Playing with her. Being happy that he had a secret friend that no one else knew about.

“Amber is only a year older than me, so it’s normal for us to get into fights. We fought a lot when we were kids. And, Emily… she didn’t like that. She was really protective of me.”

“O-Oh…” Cyrus’ voice was shaky but he was paying close attention.

T.J. let out another breath.

“Well, one day, Amber and I were fighting. I don’t even remember what the fight was about but she was really mad. And when Amber was mad, she got physical. She pushed me and tried to pull all my hair out. After mom broke up the fight, she put us in different rooms. I was in the living room and Amber was in our bedroom.”

He swallowed as he tried to steady his shaking hands.

“I was watching T.V. when I heard Amber scream. At first, I thought she just saw a bug or something and I didn’t really bother to check for a while. Then… she called for me.”

“T.J.! T.J.! Help me!”

“I ran into the room and I saw her... dangling out the window. She said she fell but… I saw Emily next to the window, just watching her and...smiling”

“What did you do?!”

“She was mean to you!”

“She’s my sister! Amber!”

“I tried to pull her up but I was only 6. I thought she was going to fall.”

“Oh my god…” Cyrus whispered, looking horrified.

T.J. bit his lip.

“T.J.! Help me! Help me! T.J.!”

“Luckily, mom came back from the laundry room and saw us. She pulled Amber in. She wouldn’t stop crying. And Emily was angry that it didn’t go the way she wanted. That was the first time I saw her like that. So… sinister and malevolent.”

“So… you told Amber about Emily?” Cyrus asked.

“Not at first. I wanted to keep it to myself. But, she kept asking me who I was talking to, wouldn’t stop annoying me. She even threatened to throw my basketball out the window. So, I finally did. She didn’t believe me at first, called me a liar and everything. But, then, Emily started playing pranks on her. She would take Amber’s toys and move them. She would pull on Amber’s hair. Once she…” He swallowed. “She dunked her head under the water while Amber was taking a bath.”

“Oh my god,” Cyrus repeated.

“After the bathtub incident, Amber finally believed me. She refused to sleep in our room. It came to the point where she would cry and throw tantrums until Mom finally swapped rooms with us. And I was mad at Emily. Yelled at her until I cried. So…ever since, I was afraid of her and every ghost I saw. I pretended I didn’t see them and I started ignoring Emily and my grandma.”

His Nana wasn’t happy, he often caught her looking sad when he would ignore her. She had tried talking to him but he would leave the room or stick headphones in his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen.

“I only started helping ghosts when I turned 8,” T.J. continued. “My grandma…once I finally decided to start talking to her again… she told me it was an inherited ability. She had it and her mom and grandfather had it. It skips a generation now and then so mom didn’t inherit it. Neither did Amber. But…I did. Lucky me, I guess? And then… Nana disappeared. She had moved on. Her unfinished business was to tell me the truth. I just never gave her the chance until then.”

Meanwhile, the ghost girl, Emily… she was devastated that she had lost her only friend. She had tried to apologize but T.J. never really forgave her, especially when Amber started getting nightmares.

She never blamed him for what happened. But, T.J. did. That was why he resolved to protect his sister as much as he could.

Letting out a staggered breath, he tried holding back tears. “Sorry… that was a lot to dump on you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “But… you’re right… it kind of made me feel better.” He smiled, lightly. “Thanks.”

Cyrus returned the smile. “You’re welcome,” he replied.

Silence fell over them.

T.J. drummed his fingers against his knee. Amber didn’t want to be reminded of what happened so they pretended it never did. He thought he was over it. Maybe he truly wasn’t. 

But, the heaviness in his chest had lifted a little. It felt good talking about it, a release he never knew he needed.

Cyrus’ hands were clasped together on his lap, biting his lip. He seemed to be contemplating something.

“Um…I just walk around town, visiting places I used to frequent. Sometimes, I go see my parents. They moved somewhere else but they’re still in town. I guess the house, this house and the other one, reminded them too much of me. I’m their only son, you see. So...my loss must have been too much for them.”

T.J. stared.

Cyrus shrugged. “You asked me earlier where I go when I’m not here. I figured since you shared something with me, I could share something with you. So, I guess we’re both a little less mysterious now. Too bad, I was going to look out the window and look distant.”

Laughter exploded out of T.J.’s mouth – a genuine laugh, this time. He felt lighter, somehow. Maybe Cyrus wasn’t a ghost. Maybe he was a magician or a wizard or something. 

How did he manage to relieve T.J. of his burden for the last eight or so years of his life with just a few words?

Cyrus flashed him a weirded out look, his fuzzy eyebrows scrunched.

He looked like a cute puppy.

Clearing his throat, T.J. scooted a few inches away from Cyrus.

“So, I have a plan for your friends.”

The sudden change in subject appeared to confuse the ghost but he went along with it.

“I’m listening.”

“So, tomorrow is basketball tryouts, right? Well, turns out both the boys and girls teams are doing it together. And Buffy told me she was trying out. So, I asked Andi to come and watch. They are likely to run into each other and since they don’t know that I know the other, I’m bound to try and ‘introduce’ them, only for them to tell me they already know each other and then they’ll start talking again.”

Cyrus looked impressed. “Your plan is so simple yet it could actually work.”

T.J. beamed. “Right? I’m a genius!”

The other boy chuckled. “Thank you, T.J. You didn’t have to do this for me and yet you are. I’ll forever be in your debt.”

Feeling his cheeks redden, T.J. just waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s no big deal. This is nothing compared to what I’ve done for other ghosts. You just want your friends to get along again.”

“Yeah. They’re just… really important to me. And I don’t want to move on without them getting along again.”

Cyrus’ demeanor deflated a little. T.J. noticed that it happened often when they spoke about his friends. But, if they are Cyrus’ unfinished business, then there was no avoiding talking about it.

He really loved his friends. And based on Andi’s sadness when something seemed to remind her of Cyrus, it appeared that they must have loved him a lot, too.

And, then, T.J. wondered what it was like when Cyrus was alive. After getting to know him, T.J. knew that he was the type of person who didn’t deserve to die. He deserved to live and spread love and joy everywhere he went.

What if T.J.’s family had moved just a year earlier? What if he had met Cyrus and became his friend? What if he could have somehow helped prevent him from dying?

The last thought was a little far-fetched. He didn’t even know how Cyrus died. He wouldn’t tell T.J.

There were just some things in this world that could not be controlled, no matter how much you want to.

Still, T.J. couldn’t help but wonder.

“Do you ever think about…” he began.

He met Cyrus’ questioning eyes.

“You know…” he continued. He coughed a little and cleared his throat. “If you were alive, right now, do you think… we could have been friends, too?”

“Of course!” Cyrus beamed. “No doubt about it! I mean…” He chewed on his bottom lip, looking shy all of a sudden. “We’re friends now, right?”

Sparkling brown eyes peeked worriedly at him from under long lashes.

T.J.’s heart suddenly picked up pace as his throat went dry and his palms got all sweaty.

“Yeah… We’re friends,” he managed, his lips twitching.

Cyrus breathed in relief.

Getting to his feet, T.J. stretched. “So… do you wanna watch a movie or something? I have Netflix.”

“Don’t you have to finish your homework?”

He walked over to his desk where he left his laptop. “I can do it later.”

“T.J.” Cyrus’ tone was scolding.

“Cyrus,” T.J. retorted, teasingly.

The ghost boy looked torn, chewing on his lip as he looked from T.J.’s abandoned books and notebooks on the bed to the laptop and then back to the stuff on the bed.

“I promise to do it tonight. I’ll even let you check my answers, if you want.”

That seemed to set Cyrus’ mind. “Okay.”

Grinning that he got his way, T.J. picked up his laptop and went back to his bed. He settled against the headboard, pushing books, notebooks, and pens aside. He patted the space next to him and Cyrus disappeared and reappeared next to him (he was prepared this time so he didn’t even flinch).

He opened up Netflix and scrolled through the choices. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything is fine. You pick.”

T.J. was in the mood for seeing animated and fun so he chose “Big Hero 6”. For the hour and a half or so, they were silent as they concentrated on the movie. Cyrus did cry a bit loudly at the beginning during the school fire scene (T.J. had wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his shoulder until the scene passed), but otherwise, neither of them spoke a word.

It was nice.

Back in San Francisco, T.J. never got to have a movie night with his friends. If you could even call them friends, that is. They were just people he hung out with at school but never really had a deep friendship with. He mostly stuck with Amber (to his sister’s chagrin) or spent his free time by himself. A few ghosts have tried to befriend him but, usually, they had ulterior motives.

After dinner, he fulfilled his promise to Cyrus by sitting at his desk and doing his homework.

The ghost entertained himself by playing with T.J.’s little plastic basketball, attempting to shoot at the net on the door from various angles. 

It was adorable, really. And, kind of distracting.

“Need help with that?” T.J. asked, amused as the plastic ball bounced off the edge for the tenth time.

“No, I got this,” Cyrus replied, stubbornly. “You finish your homework.”

T.J. chuckled. “Yes, mom.”

The ghost childishly stuck his tongue out at him before returning to his little game.

T.J. turned his attention back on his homework.

The rest of the night was peaceful.

It was nice.

…………

T.J. was among ten other boys trying out for the boys’ basketball team. 

As he warmed up with a few dribbles, he kept his gaze on the girls gathered on the opposite side of the gym, trying to spot a familiar head of curls.

“T.J.!”

His head spun around at the call. 

Andi and Libby were standing by the bleachers, waving at him, both sporting matching grins. T.J. waved back and watched as the two girls made their way up to find seats. He went back to dribbling, still keeping his eye out for Buffy.

He didn’t have to wait long. The doors to the locker room opened and out she came, head held high with confidence. Beside her was a brunette boy, talking as he nudged her shoulder. Laughing, she nudged back at him.

T.J. watched fascinated as the two appeared to banter back and forth before they split – the boy heading towards the boys’ side and Buffy for the girls’.

The blonde looked up at the bleachers again to see if Andi had noticed Buffy. The pixie-haired girl was distractedly conversing with Libby.

Good. He could make this work, somehow. He just had to figure out how to get them to talk to each other.

A whistle blew and he pulled his attention away from the two girls. The coaches were calling everyone over.

It was showtime.

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Delayed - Chapter 3: Paired Off

Summary:  “All felt like they knew the others were far away, living ideal lives. They kept to their windows and phones for the ride, thinking about the others. They reminisced separately but prayed for the night to go by fast, to get to the places they needed to go. But the night hadn’t even begun yet.” High school ended 6 years ago, and with it, so did the friendship between Andi, Buffy, Cyrus, Jonah, TJ and Amber. But now their flight is delayed and they are stuck in a hotel together for the night. Not much can change in one night, though. Can it?

ALL LINKS IN REBLOG

~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Buffy, what’s up? I mean, in the one hour we haven’t spoken,” Marty said with a yawn through the phone. That obviously did not stop him from being snarky, and Buffy just rolled her eyes, even though she knew Marty couldn’t see her.

“You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?” he said, Buffy just knowing that there was an annoying smirk on his face.

“Shut up Marty,” she said, trying to fight back a smile. “And for your information, a lot happened.”

“Did you reach the hotel? How is it?”

Buffy shrugged. “Just a regular, standard hotel with enough that I can survive a night.”

“Okay good, at least you’ll rest for once,” Marty said with a sigh. Buffy drew a deep breath.

“I don’t know about that, Marty,” she said softly.

“What do you mean? What happened? Did you get hurt? Is there work or something?”

“Marty,” Buffy said, cutting him off before he began rambling. “I met Andi and Cyrus.”

The line was quiet for a few moments, only a faint buzz coming through that was customary when calling between states on a quickly-draining data plan.

“Oh.”

“Is that all you could say?”

“I mean, whoa. How long has it been?”

“Like 5 years at least,” Buffy said with a sigh, pacing about the area.

“And how did it go?” Marty asked quietly, his voice vaguely comforting, as if he already knew the answer.

“As well as you’d think,” Buffy huffed, looking up at the ceiling. “At first it was great, just like old times. Like we had never left high school. Like we were still friends, you know?”

“But then reality kicked in?” Marty said softly. Buffy sighed.

“Yup,” she replied. She let out a short, emotionless laugh. “I really thought everything would be the same as it was. But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. We aren’t the same people.”

“How so?”

“Cyrus seems the same, but except he’s gone full lone ranger, something that’s strange but sure,” Buffy said, leaning against a pillar. “But Andi is, super different. She just snapped at us and walked away. Plus, she looks kinda like how Bex looked when we met her on Andi’s thirteenth birthday.”

“Whoa,” was all Marty could manage, earning a short laugh from Buffy.

She just shook her head. “I don’t know how I expected things to be the same,” she said. “I left high school hell-bent on sports, and here I am as a lawyer.”

“I mean, you’re not the only one who has changed though,” Marty said patiently. “We all have. High school was practically a lifetime ago. People move on.”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “Can’t believe you became so intellectual. It wasn’t long ago that you were just a dumb jock.”

The gasp of horror from Marty’s end sent Buffy giggling as he started to rant about how he was NOT a dumb jock. She just shook her head in amusement.

“Love you, Marty. Bye,” she said before he was done, cutting the call, still laughing. She looked around, most people groaning and making their way to the restaurant, room keys in hand. She should probably be getting her own one soon. The thought of food was incredibly appealing at the minute, her stomach rumbling in agreement. But before she could find her way to the buffet, a hotel attendant approached her.

“Ms Driscoll,” they started with a professional smile. “Unfortunately, there aren’t any more free rooms, so we are unable to give you one.”

“Wait, no no,” Buffy said, shaking her head slightly. “There must be some room free. I don’t care about size or quality, I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“We’re very sorry, ma’am,” they said. “Unless a guest is willing to share a room, there is nothing we can do. We may have to contact another hotel close by to see if they have a spare room.”

Buffy sighed, exhausted. She was ready to surrender to her fate, turning to grab her bag, when a voice called out from behind her.

“She can stay in my room if that’s possible,” said the person, and Buffy turned around to see who it was, only to stop short when she saw none other than Amber Kippen.

“Are you sure it’s not a trouble, ma’am?” the attendant asked, but Amber waved her off with a smile.

“Not at all, I’d be happy to help Ms Driscoll out,” she said, turning to look at Buffy who just stared gobsmacked at her. Who else was on this bloody flight and in this bloody hotel? Next thing she knew Dr Metcalf would be the manager.

The attendant smiled, walking to the reception to get another key to hand to Buffy before walking away. After she had gone, Buffy gave a short laugh of disbelief before turning to Amber.

“How come you are also here?!” she asked, unable to wrap her head around the situation, Amber laughing at her shocked expression.

“I take it you met TJ then,” Amber replied, but that only made Buffy even more confused.

“TJ’s here too?!”

“Okay, clearly you haven’t met him,” Amber said, slightly taken aback. It took her a minute to process what Buffy had said before narrowing her eyes. “Wait, then what do you mean by ‘also here’? Who else is here?”

Buffy sighed. “Andi and Cyrus. I just ran into them.”

The change in expression was as imperceptible as could be, but Buffy still saw it in Amber’s eyes at the mention of Andi’s name. The nervous hope, the fleeting joy, and the pushing down of all these behind a stoic curtain. It made Buffy smile a bit, bringing her back to high school, with how Amber’s actions ever so slightly betrayed her crush. Not many people could see it, but she did.

Amber put on a bright smile as she grabbed Buffy’s hand, an action that would never have occurred when they were in school, but for some reason felt totally natural in the moment. “Come on, I’m starving!”

“Oh my god, same,” Buffy groaned, letting Amber pull her to the restaurant. But then, she stopped, pulling Amber back a bit so she’d look at her. “Thanks. For the room thing.”

Amber smiled softly. “No problem, Buffy,” she said, pulling Buffy to her by the shoulder as she walked into the restaurant. But suddenly she stopped short and Buffy looked at her, confusion clouding her face.

“What happened, Amber?”

“Did you say Cyrus is here?” Amber asked quietly.

“Yeah. Why?” Buffy replied, furrowing her eyebrows.

“TJ’s also here. Both of them under the same roof. For the first time since…”

Oh shit.

*

Cyrus hadn’t stopped staring, unable to believe his eyes. 6 years had done a fairly decent job of convincing him that TJ didn’t exist anymore, but now here he was, right in front of him, looking at him exactly the way he used to. And of course, he had opened conversation asking whether the seat in front of him was taken or not. Classic TJ. Cyrus hadn’t been able to say anything other than TJ’s name, his heart suddenly in his throat, beating uncontrollably.

“Hi Cyrus,” TJ had finally said after a moment of silence between the two, pulling out the chair opposite Cyrus so he could sit. Age had not been unkind to him, Cyrus thought to himself, unable to even chide his mind. But his smile was still the same as it was in high school. It had always been accompanied with a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, a compliment and, as their relationship had progressed, a whispered ‘I love you’ pressed into the palm of his heart. But now it sat on his face as he faced Cyrus, 6 years of distance making it far removed from high school stories.

“Crazy seeing you here,” Cyrus finally said, after a couple moments of staring at his hands, scratching the inside of his thumb.

“Could say the same to you,” TJ said quietly, keeping his gaze focused on Cyrus. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, and Cyrus had obviously noticed it, and it was driving him crazier than he expected.

Get it together. It’s been 6 fucking years. You’ve moved on, he yelled at himself, forcing himself to look TJ in the eye, as if to convince himself that yes, he had moved on. But as he looked TJ in the eye, the green irises his focus, he also thought ruefully to himself, if he had moved on, why had he spent the last 6 years running from relationships?

TJ broke eye contact, slightly shaking his head as he looked down at the table. “So, uh. You going back to Shadyside for a while, or just passing by?”

“Staying for a bit,” Cyrus said, smiling slightly. “Just a break before I go for my PhD. Plus, I’ve been running out of inspiration lately so maybe going home could kick in something.”

“For your films on YouTube?” TJ said, casually grabbing a fry off Cyrus’ plate. Cyrus raised an eyebrow at his action, but couldn’t stop a soft smile from coming on his face.

“You know about those?” he asked curiously, surprised by TJ knowing about them. It wasn’t like his following was really big, although 234k subscribers was no mean feat.

TJ shrugged, playing off the fact with nonchalance. “They’ve popped up on my Recommended every now and then. So I watched them. They’re cool.” It wasn’t a lie. One of them had popped up in his Recommended. It’s just that after that one, he avidly watched every single one of them at a stretch. Because he knew that at that time, it was all he had left of Cyrus. Until now.

Cyrus looked surprised. “Really? Thanks,” he said shyly, looking back down as he remembered to eat.

Things were quiet between them, as Cyrus finished his food and TJ scrolled through his phone, occasionally sneaking glances at Cyrus, then immediately looking away, scolding himself. Eventually, Cyrus finished, and looked up at TJ.

“So,” he said, attempting to break the awkward silence between them. “What’re you doing now?”

TJ shrugged. “I studied History in college, and I took basketball. So, I think I may end up becoming a teacher or something.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Really? Me, with kids?”

“Eh, it could work. Who knows?” Cyrus said with a small smile as he pushed back his chair, grabbing his bag as he moved to leave.  Cyrus took a deep breath and looked at TJ with a smile. “It was really nice meeting you again, TJ.” With that, Cyrus turned away ready to leave. But before he could, he heard an impatient sigh from behind him.

“Seriously?” TJ said, his voice slightly annoyed, and Cyrus turned back, seeing a defeated expression on TJ’s face.

“What?”

“It’s the first time we see in 6 years since,” he hesitated, waving his hands as he tried to find what to say. “Since our non-event of a breakup, if we can even call it that. And you’re just walking away again?”

Cyrus took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Of course he remembered that, he had just been trying to push that down as he spoke to TJ. He moved back, sitting back down as he looked at TJ. “It was 6 years ago, TJ. What else is there to say? It just didn’t work, we didn’t talk much anymore, and in the end, it was just silence. We both moved on, right?” That’s what he hoped. Because now he wasn’t sure if he had ever really moved on.

“Yeah, we have,” TJ said, trying desperately to convince himself, more than anyone else. He had to have moved on. He had literally been in another relationship after Cyrus. Not that it ended well. And one of the reasons being the ghost of swingsets and high school promises. He tried to find something else to say, hurtful or not, he would take anything to not have Cyrus walk away. For some reason, he just didn’t want him to leave again, because that would mean like the last time, he would be left in the silence again. But nothing came to mind, and after a long pause, Cyrus just let out a pensive sigh and got up again, this time more definitively.

“That’s all there is, TJ. We were just a high school relationship that ended in college. It isn’t uncommon,” he said quietly, slinging his bag over his shoulder and pulling out his room key. “Goodbye, TJ,” Cyrus said before turning away and walking towards the door. But he stopped, and turned back with a sad smile.

“It really was good to see you again,” he said, pushing open the door and disappearing down the corridor. And just as fast as he had seen him, he had gone.

TJ just sank into his chair, calling the bartender to get himself a beer, unexpected dejection flooding his veins.

Why did this goodbye hurt more than their actual break up? He asked himself, taking a swig of the beer, the acrid taste making him wince. He knew the answer, of course.

Because this time, unlike the last, there was an actual, definitive goodbye.

*

“Wow, now that is not something I expected,” Andi said with a laugh, leaving her plate on the table as she walked over to the bar. Jonah followed her, amused smile on his face as he sat on the bar stool adjacent to her. She motioned to the bartender, who walked over to her, towel on his shoulder.

“One whiskey on the rocks,” she ordered, not even looking at the menu. She turned over to Jonah, tilting her head. “What do you want? On me.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Jonah tried to refuse politely, but Andi smiled at him, eyebrows raised, and he gave in. “One Mojito then.”

“Seriously?” Andi teased as the bartender walked over to make their drinks. “Mojito?”

“It’s a tried and tested one!”

“Yeah, for moms at family dinners.”

“Okay, you’re confusing margaritas and mojitos.”

Andi stifled a laugh unsuccessfully, playfully shoving Jonah in the shoulder. In that time, the bartender set their drinks down in front of them, flashing a smile at Andi as he walked away. Smiling,  she held up her glass and clinked it with Jonah’s ignoring the way some of the liquid splashed out.

“To delayed flights and shitty hotels,” she said. Jonah smiled and took a sip of his drink, enjoying the bitter fresh punch to his throat. Just then, he felt his phone buzz and he scrambled to pick it up, dropping his wallet in the process.

“Hey. Yeah, reached the hotel, just had dinner,” Jonah started mumbling down the phone. Andi reached down to pick up his wallet, not paying attention to his conversation. She noticed that a photograph had dislodged itself from the plastic cover. Curious, she picked it up and turned it over, and gasped as she saw her, Buffy, Cyrus and Jonah staring back at her, in all their high school glory. Even though the picture sent nostalgia into her heart, Andi couldn’t help but sigh sadly, remembering very well their encounter just before. But that didn’t stop her from gingerly holding the picture by the edge, treating it as something delicate as she continued to stare at it, million thoughts racing through her head. She didn’t even notice Jonah had gotten off the phone, until he tapped her on the shoulder and she started suddenly.

“You still have this,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Jonah furrowed his eyebrows, confused, until he saw what was in her hands and let out a soft laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” he softly chuckled, taking it from Andi. “I, uh, look at it when I need to calm down. Grounds me and stuff,” he explained, looking down at the picture.

“Who were you talking to?”

Jonah hesitated for a moment, looking to the side before shaking his head. “No one, just a friend.” He bounced on the balls of his feet before looking at his watch and picking up his bag. “I should, uh, probably go to my room.”

Andi nodded, surprised at the disappointment she felt. “What room number?”

“415.”

“Oh, mine’s 321. Guess this is where we part ways.”

With that, Andi tipped her glass at Jonah, smiling slightly. Jonah nodded, walking away. But before leaving, he turned around and smiled at Andi. “You can drop by if you want later.”

And with that, he was gone, and Andi was alone at the bar, sighing as she gulped down her whiskey, calling for another.

~~~~~~~

hey guys so i'll be out of town for the next week or so, so the next update may be late. sorry! hope you like the chapter! 

@pixieangelprincess @luzawithoutu @terri-does-gods-work @sxshx-sxshx @tozbier @alittletooliteralleah

hmu if you wanna be tagged in future updates kidz

[veky1993]

Caught - a Shandy fic

@escapewithstories and I were talking about this moment tonight and how it’s one of the rare scenes in which we see Sharon just kinda appreciating Andy without his even noticing, so casually lovingly, like he’s so precious to her, her everything, and naturally, we thought we should fic a moment where Andy catches her just ogling/staring at him. I instantly had like three different scenarios in my head, and scribbled one of them down. It’s unbetad, and just a quick jotting down of thoughts, but I hope you’ll enjoy the read anyway. Starts beneath the gif.

So, we’re in agreement,” Andy was saying as they sat side by side on the couch going through house listings on Sharon’s laptop. “Nothing too big, but definitely with a backyard. And another spare room or two wouldn’t hurt.” He flashed her a grin while looking pointedly in the direction of Rusty’s bedroom. “And definitely another bathroom.” 

 She smiled, nodding, but wasn’t allowed a word in, for he grabbed the laptop off her lap and started scrolling with intent. When he found what he was looking for, he tilted the screen back to her, and said, “Take a look at this one then.” He waved his hand at the pictures with a flourish, and started talking her ear off with such an attention to detail that she suddenly realized he hadn’t rushed into this decision the way she worried he might have. In fact, he must have been eyeing this particular listing long before they even sat down to discuss what each of them were looking for in a house.

“Rusty’d have double the space for himself here,” was one of his very first arguments, and her heart both swelled and constricted at his opening choice. He knew how important it was for her that Rusty had a place in any life they would start together, and perhaps that was one of the reasons why it had taken so long for him to bring any of this up. He wanted to preempt any of her possible reticence by making it absolutely clear that her adopted son was always going to be a part of their future.

A slight pang of guilt went through her, and as she mulled that over she missed a couple of other of Andy’s arguments until his teasing words, “That backyard’s big enough to accommodate every whim of your sense of occasion,” cut through her musings and she giggled.

The elated smile her reaction instantly drew from him had her eyes drifting from the screen to his profile as he returned his focus on yet another image he felt needed additional selling. As he continued to talk, every now and then she only hummed in response, distracted.

He looked so very excited, nearly vibrating with joy at the prospect of ever sharing anything even remotely similar to the house currently displayed. His shoulders drew together every other sentence, and he waved his hands enthusiastically whenever he tried to paint a particularly vivid picture for her, and there were crinkles at the corners of his eyes whenever some imagined scenario curled his lips into one of those lopsided smiles of his that she loved so much.

The word grandchildren, or more precisely ‘their’ grandchildren caught her attention next, although, if asked, she would have no clue what exactly he said about them, but a delicious kind of feeling spread inside her chest at the idea of one day being grandparents to not just Nicole’s two boys, and having them fill their home with joy and laughter, and maybe add a few more grey hairs on their heads whenever they inevitably did something that would most likely drive them insane.

He looked up at her, the slight frown suddenly on his face confusing her, until she caught the words ‘you’, ‘pool’, and ‘not giving up on that’ before another slightly smug smile spread across his features, and she reflexively smiled back, barely even hearing what else he was saying.

Funny, she thought to herself, that she would find herself here. Dreaming up a future with a man that she used to, on good days, want to throttle. Oh, he could still be as infuriating as ever, these days he sometimes actually pestered her on purpose just for the fun of it, but now that knack of his had become endearing to her in a way she couldn’t quite describe with words.

All she could do was smile, no doubt dopily, thanking her lucky stars for bringing them together, whether he worried her, or made her smile, drove her up a wall with his particular brand of insanity, or made love to her. She felt heat rising to her cheeks as she realized she definitely didn’t mind that he was easy on the eyes as well.

Yes, she still couldn’t quite believe she had actually agreed to this, to merging their lives like this, but there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted this, that he had thought this through, and that she wanted this as well. He was clearly embellishing all the little perks of their fully living together, but there was an absolute kind of certainty in the way he spoke, that she trusted him completely, and she found herself torn between wanting to kiss his rambling mouth shut, because, no, she needed no more convincing, and between wanting to keep on listening (a bit more attentively, of course) to his absolute faith in their happy future together, because, yes, it did sound absolutely blissful.

“Sharon?”

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she felt the flush in her cheeks deepen as she realized she’d been staring at his lips. When her hand had reached the back of his neck and her fingers started playing with the hairs on his nape, she couldn’t say.

“Huh?” she mumbled stupidly.

“What do you think?” he asked, pointing at the laptop, but eyeing her a bit strangely.

Cursing herself for not listening, she hoped she guessed correctly what he meant by that, and said, “I think it’s wonderful.”

He frowned. “Yeah,” he said slowly, and raised a bit in his seat to look at her more seriously. “But I was asking,” he spoke slower still, “if you were up to taking a look at this house in person?”

“Oh,” she let out before she could stop herself.

“Were you even listening to me? Look,” he straightened completely now, even moving the laptop down onto the couch to his far right, “if you still need to think about it…” He shrugged, and Sharon sighed at the disappointment he failed to hide at the prospect of even more waiting. “It’s okay. I mean, I-”

She tilted her head to the side, watching him with a faint smile as he scrambled for words. He really was utterly adorable, too. “No, I wasn’t really listening,” she mumbled, interrupting him.

His earlier frown reappeared. “Then who the hell-” He suddenly snapped his mouth shut before opening it to form a surprised ‘o’ as it dawned on him what exactly she meant by that. “You weren’t really listening, huh?” he asked, but with a knowing lilt to his words.

She rolled her eyes, to hide her embarrassment really, rather than anything else. “You caught me.”

He leaned toward her, his face mere inches from hers. “So,” he drawled, bobbing his eyebrows up and down, “I’m distracting?”

She clasped his too-smug-for-his-own-good face. “Yes, Mr. Stares-at-My-Legs-Instead-of-Doing-as-I-Say.”

"What can I say? They're great legs." She failed to hide her smile, and he grinned goofily, not bothered at all by her being aware of how very distracting he found her to be. “Good to know I have the same effect on you,” he told her. “It’s cute.”

“Cute?” she repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded emphatically, despite her hands clutching his face, and just continued to grin.

She sighed, as if what she was about to do was such a terrible chore to do, then closed the little distance between them and planted her lips over his.

He responded with equal fervor and she laughed when he pushed her down onto the couch until he was lying half on top of her. “So,” he started, breaking their kiss, but not proceeding with his question before kissing her once more, “did you like the house at all?”

She grimaced, running a hand apologetically down his cheek. “I really wasn’t paying that much attention.”

He chuckled. “Seriously?” Obviously, he didn’t think she had zoned out quite that much.

“You said something about a pool, and the backyard and grandchildren?” she tried, shrugging.

He chuckled again, but asked seriously, “What were you thinking about then?”

She bit her bottom lip while tracing his own with her thumb. There was no way to quickly sum up her thoughts, but she finally settled on a quiet, “About how much I love you.”

His lopsided smile appeared immediately, but he asked, dopily, “Yeah?”

She matched his smile, with a bright one of her. “Yeah,” she confirmed mockingly, then clasped his face to quickly kiss him again.

When she dropped her head back down, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, too.”

She ran a hand down to his shoulder, until it traced his collar and she could run it down the path his tie would usually be. “Enough to give me another tour of that house?”

He answered quickly. “Enough to build you a house if need be.”

She smiled a brilliant smile. “Good,” she said, then tapped his shoulder, “now help me up.”

He lifted off her, and offered her his hand. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes playfully at his eagerness, then reached over him for the laptop that had miraculously remained on the couch. “So,” she said, when she had it perched between them on each of their thigh, “this one has double the space for Rusty...?”

[deputyrhysiepieces]

Can you please write about Andy where he’s in love with you. But you reject him really rude like who can love you? Or wanna be with you? (You just afraid of relationships). It hurts him and you too. Then someday you see that someone rude with him too but you protect him because he doesn’t deserve it well and because you like him. Happy end. Thanks!

A/N: I hope this was what you were looking for! I had a fun time writing it :)

Working at the Parks department wasn’t the most exciting job in the world. (Unless you’re Leslie Knope.) But for Y/N a lot of stress was alleviated when Leslie was hired. She didn’t mind doing practically everything, leaving Y/N and the team to just follow her lead. Her team was family to her, one that kept getting bigger with the ones she met along the way. Even though she knew she would always have their support, she couldn’t let herself bother them with the details of the horrific breakup she just went through.

“I’m not even that broken up over it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, waving a tissue in the air as the camera zoomed in on her tear stained cheeks. “He was a jerk- No, I’m not upset at all. Why do you ask?”

...

Only Ron knew after they bonded over alcohol and bitching about their failed relationships.

“Yeah, Ron and I shared a drink after he threatened to shoot me if I didn’t stop cry- talking about my breakup.” Tom comes in her office, stealing most of her paper out of the printer.

“Hey! Need to borrow some of this. All of it. I need all of it.”

Y/N waved him off, blowing her nose once more. Tom’s eyes widened as he leaned to the side to get a better look at her face. Once he made eye contact with the camera, the lens shook back and forth.

“Thanks!”

“Anyways, as I was saying I’m perfectly fine-” Tom glided back into the room, awkwardly finger gunning.

“Hey, completely forgot, printer’s out of ink. I can use yours, right?”

“Actually-”

“Cool! Thanks.”

Y/N turned back to the camera, staring directly into the lens with the anger of a thousand suns.

“Uhh, So…” Tom’s eyes awkwardly looked around the room for something discussion worthy. “How’s your boyfriend doing?”

Sobbing was heard on camera as it zoomed out of Tom’s face to see Y/N crying.

“Uh-”

“GET OUT!”

….

It had been about three weeks since the breakup and the hole in her heart got bigger every time she thought about it.

Andy comes around every now and then to cheer her up, but it never works.

“Hey Y/N, how’s it going?” he asks sincerely, with a cute smile.

All he hears is a huff come from her, as he hands her a CD of his band named Mouse Rat. “Maybe this will make you feel better, you’re lucky cause it’s free just for you, my cute lady friend.” He expects her to crack even a little bit of a smile and thank him, but she just stares at him blankly. He starts walking backwards, holding eye contact, his smile never deteriorating. He runs into a table awkwardly, shrugging it off he finally turns around and walks away.

“That went well, that’s the most noise she’s ever made around me in three weeks” Andy says into the camera lens with a goofy smile.  The camera cuts to Y/N throwing the cd into the trash can.

…

“Hey, Y/N!” Y/N turns to see Andy running to catch up with her, knocking many people out of his way to do so. Once he reaches her he doubles over, hands on his knees. “Man you walk really fast.”

“Or I was just really far ahead of you.” Andy waves her off.

“Same thing. Anyway, Mouse Rat is playing tonight … and I was wondering if you wanna come? Like with me, to the concert… that’s tonight.” He smiled through his words, aggravating her.

“I’m busy.” She lied. Andy’s smile faded.

“Oh. Really? Cause I was kinda wondering if you’d want to go with me. Like, with me. With me.”

When all she did was narrow her eyes, he muttered under his breath. “God, you look so sexy when you’re mad.”

As she heard this she felt a burst of warmth in her chest, something she hasn’t felt in a long time. Deciding she couldn’t go through a breakup again, she decided not to get his hopes up.

“Why would I want to do that?” She felt a pang in her chest when his eyes widened and he started stuttering. The guilt she felt made her even more angry. “Tell me, Andy, Why would I want to go with you?”

“I-I don’t know I just- I thought you could use something to cheer you up- cause you seemed kinda down lately and I like you-like, a lot-but-but-anyway bye!” He ran as fast as he could away from her, his large frame knocking many people over in the process. The tears in his eyes made her feel immediately guilty, swallowing any anger left inside her.

The thing was she’d be extremely lucky to be with Andy. He wasn’t the brightest, but he had a lot of heart. She knew she had to apologize.

…

The camera cuts to Andy’s red face, eyes swollen with tears.

“No, I have no idea what I did! She’s just mean- and-and a jerk and I don’t wanna date her anymore!”

...

Y/ showed up about 30 minutes late to the bar Andy was playing at after an inner battle of whether or not she should go. She unfortunately ran into Tom, getting a spray of his homemade cologne in her face. After she finished gagging she spotted Andy onstage.

When he made eye contact with her she tried to give him a small smile, but he just looked away. He was obviously refusing to look at her, childishly turning his head in whatever direction she wasn’t. Y/N sighed, taking a seat with Donna.

“I-”

“Nope.” Donna cut her off, not sparing her a glance. “Don’t wanna know.”

“How’d you even-?” Donna looked at her as if she’d grown two heads.

“Your face just screams ‘relationship issues.’ I don’t wanna get involved in that.” She nodded her head towards Andy before getting up to join some people she apparently knew.

In order to cheer herself up she immersed herself in the music, making time fly by. Soon Andy joined some old buddies at the bar. They all clapped him on the back, flashing him fake smiles as they suggested he pay for everyone’s drink.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. They had to have known Andy didn’t have a lot of money, he just got out of living in a pit. She frowned when Andy looked uncertain, but he was too kind to refuse.

“I was actually saving this to buy a house-”

“C’mon, Andy! We’re your friends. Don’t forget you have them Mr. Rockstar.”

“Y’know what, okay. I mean you guys probably need it more anyways-”

That’s all Y/N had to hear before making her way over to them, snatching Andy’s money and stuffing it back in his pocket.

“Andy, no.” She scolded softly before turning to give his ‘friends’ a murderous glare. “If I see any of you dickholes around him again, the only drink you’ll get is your own blood as you choke on it.”

They quickly dispersed, leaving the two alone. Andy snapped out of his little starstruck gazing and settled his hands on his hips, attempting to look tough.

“I don’t appreciate you threatening my friends ma’am. Unlike some people I know, heh, you, they actually care about me.”

“They’re not your friends, Andy. And they don’t care about you.”

“Well, neither do you.” She tried to pull his hands away from his hips so she could hold them in hers. He struggled to pull his hands away, instead crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry for what I said this morning.”

“...Go on.”

“It’s just… I just went through a bad breakup recently and even though I’ve pretended that it didn’t bother me, I guess it kinda did. And by ‘kinda’ I mean it tore me apart and crippled my soul.”

Andy’s eyes softened, arms immediately pulling her into a bear hug.

“I could tell something was wrong, you were really moody. And you’re really bad at hiding things.”

“Okay, now” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him back. “Forgive me?

“Of course! Only if you forgive me for not being a better friend/ future boyfriend by knowing you, uh, actually had a boyfriend.”

“Pfft, what boyfriend?” Y/N grinned.

“The one who you just said you had a horrible break up wi-”

“No, no, Andy, I was being sarcastic. Nevermind. Let’s just have that date now.”

“Oh! Before that, I have to sing one more song.” He turned to his band excitedly. “Get your equipment out of the boxes, boys!”

“Wait one more song?

“Yeah! I just wrote it. In my head. Right now.” He ran towards the stage  getting everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, everybody! We have one more song tonight, called Y/N. Dedicated to my girlfriend, cause we just got together.”

Y/N melted a bit, a wide smile spreading across her face. Her face screwed up a bit throughout the song, questionable lyrics making her laugh

“Your boyfriend was a prick, but no I won’t be like that, I’ll treat you good with my dick”

“OKAY ANDY TIME TO GO!”

[gentlemanmendes]

Beauty behind the Madness | 20

a/n: I know I said you would find out what Shawn did in the part but it was too long (like 8000 words) so I had to put it in two but don't worry this part is fluffy for you guys and the whole next part will be dedicated to what Shawn did!

warning: kinda angsty at the start but don’t worry it’s all fluff at the end! and sorry not proof read I just really wanted to post it right now!

previous chapters can be found in my masterlist under beauty behind the madness

20:

Rolling over on the floor again I push myself up in hopes of getting a view of the alarm clock beside the bed to see that it’s only been an hour and I still haven’t fallen asleep. Arleigh and I had finally arrived in Newtown a little after three in the morning, she had given me the directions to the motel that she had stayed at with her dad and after arguing with the lady at the front desk for ten minutes we managed to get a room, the only problem was the only room ready at this time in the morning was a room with one bed and I doubted Arleigh wanted to share a bed with me so I gave her the bed and opted for the floor taking the spare pillow and sheet I found in the cupboard making my self a pathetic excuse for a bed.

I wasn’t sure if Arleigh was awake or asleep but I didn’t dare ask. The last one hour of the drive had been more torturous than the first, finally getting a taste of something you had craved for so long only to have it snatched from your grip. The story Alriegh told me in the car replays over and over in my head and the picture she had drawn. She hadn’t been able to draw the picture exactly because she couldn’t remember it and every time she searched her memory it seemed to come back to her differently. None of the paintings she had done were an exact replica and for some reason it seemed to frustrate her. She hadn’t told me this in the car but I had once asked her what made that image so important that she had to draw it out so many times and that had been the response, I hadn’t known it was the first thing that had inspired her to pick up painting.

The date was now the tenth of October, Arleigh’s birthday, she is officially eighteen. She used to dream about this day all the time, eighteen meant freedom to everyone but more importantly freedom to Arleigh. She could now legally move out if she wanted to and her dad couldn’t do anything about it. I wonder what she has planned now that she is eighteen. We had never spoke about it much, the only plan we had ever made was for her to finally get the answers she deserved. But now it hits me; spending her eighteenth birthday in a police station is a really crappy way to spend your birthday, no matter how desperate she is for answers. She has waited six years, what is one more day?

Realising I’m not going to be getting any sleep anytime soon I push myself up off of my pathetic excuse of a bed and grab a room key trying to be as quite as possible as I make to leave the room. Thankfully Arleigh is asleep or if she is awake she pretends to be asleep in the hopes of not talking which I wouldn’t blame her for, the last thing I wanted was another awkwardly tense conversation. This weekend seems like it will be a disaster and we are barley five hours into it.

As soon as I am outside and the cold night air hits my bare skin I immediately regret not bringing my hoodie along but I’m too stubborn to go back into the room and get it so I toughen up and make my way back to the bitchy receptionist with the hopes that she will be a little more helpful.

***

“Arleigh, Arleigh, Arleigh.” Mitch sings teasingly causing me to roll my eyes as I barrier my head deeper into my locker to ignore Mitch. I don’t know if he is teasing me or if Arleigh is actually at her locker but I don’t dare to look or even give Mitch my attention not wanting him to know just how much this got to me.  

I had told Mitch about my fight with Arleigh needing advice, Arleigh and I hadn’t spoken after last night and I’m not exactly sure where we stand and if we are still together or not, but going to Mitch was the worst thing I had ever done. Naturally if you had a fight with your partner your would go to your best friend in hopes of advice, unless in the case your best friend is Mitch.

“Arleigh Axle.” He says, moving away from me making me assume that Arleigh is really at her locker and he is just being Mitch. My body tense as I watch from the corner of my as he moves closer to her, leaning against the locker besides here while she ignores him frustratedly shuffling books around in her locker making a mess of things.

Giving a look over my shoulder both Jonnie and Andy are watching Mitch cautiously all of us knowing how he can be down right cruel towards Arleigh sometimes. Jonnie and Andy had gotten used to having Arleigh around but for some reason Mitch seemed to never get bored of teasing Alreigh the way he did everyone else. Usually he got bored when he didn’t get a reaction out of someone, but reaction or not his favourite victim seemed to constantly be Arleigh. I had figured after he told her about what happened with his parents he would stop knowing she had leverage over him but that only seemed to make him target her more, as if he needed to remind her who had the real power. But Arleigh had never brought up what Mitch had told her once. I wondered why, she could easily shut him up with one threat but she never did. I suppose I should be happy that she isn’t the type of person to stoop so low but someone needed to shut Mitch up and it wasn’t going to be any of us, Mitch would just laugh in our faces.

“Are you coming to the party Arleigh?” He wondered innocently, only anyone who knew Mitch knew he was anything but innocent. Mistaking Mitch as innocent would be like trusting a mass murderer with a weapon in the middle of a public area. “Few drinks, maybe some beer pong, a little dancing?”

Arleigh’s gaze switched briefly from Mitch to me, a cold hard glare plastered across her face in the split second that our eyes met but just as quickly she looked away. However that brief moment was all Mitch needed. Smirking to himself his eyes lit up in that devious way of his when he planned on hurting someone, knowing Mitch this wasn’t going to end well.

“What? Shawn?” Mitch questioned faking cluelessness. “Ah fuck him. Oh wait you didn’t” he laughed. Arleigh’s eyes widened as her frown deepened almost hiding the shock that showed on her face. It takes me a moment to realise that it’s not shock but betrayal. “that’s the problem you guys are having right? That’s why Shawn was hitting on Layla earlier.”

In this moment there is nothing more I want to do than slam my locker door on my head or even better Mitch’s. The dick really liked to fuck around with people and knew just how to do it.

Without even another glance at any of us Arleigh slams her locker shut so hard that the vibration can be felt against the wall. The few people that stood in the hallway looked over at us in alert, clearly startled by the loud slam of Arleigh’s locker, suddenly all were curious what drama had gone down so they could gossip about it with their friends later.

Following Arleigh’s actions I slam my locker shut, only not as hard as she had and give Mitch a shove.

“Your a fucking dick.” I mutter as I hurry after Arleigh leaving Andy and Jonnie to put up with Mitch.

Jogging to catch up with Arleigh I see her hair bouncing as she storms with her head down towards the girls bathroom. Without a care in the world I follow her inside. When I step inside the first thing I notice is how much cleaner the girls bathroom is to the guys but then my attention drifts to the freshman’s who started yelling at me to get out.

“If your not peeing get the fuck out.” I yell over there whinny screams which the immediately oblige to, all of them scurrying away like scared little mice running from a cat.

Once the bathroom is empty I make my way to the only stall with a closed door and tap gently on the door knowing that I’m walking bare foot on broken glass. The last thing Arleigh probably wants is to talk to me after the fight we had last night and now this but I take my chances. This could either go really well or back fire hard.

“Arleigh can we please talk about this.” I mumble my forehead pressing against the cold door cooling down my heated skin sending relief through me.

She doesn’t answer and I know this isn’t going to be easy.

But to my surprise I hear shuffling behind the door followed by the door moving from underneath me causing me to loose my balance but quickly grab onto the sides of the stall to stop myself from falling on top of Arleigh. Taking a few steps back I give Arleigh the space she needs to come out of the stall. It takes a few moments before Arleigh lifted her gaze to meet mine. She isn’t crying right now but the evidence that she had been crying previously was written all over her face.

“Arleigh just ignore Mitch, he’s problematics we all know it.” I say but all she does is push past me and go to the sink to wash her hands. Turning around, my gaze follows Arleigh watching in the mirror as she gives a dry chuckle shaking her head to herself.

“What?” I quiz my confusion getting the best of me.

Once she is finished drying her hands she scrunched up the paper towel aggressively before getting overly frustrated and throwing it at me.   Even though I’m aware that it’s a paper towel and that it won’t hurt I still flinch and move my arms up in defence to cover my face.

“The problem isn’t Mitch you idiot,” she yells storming towards me. “it’s you!” As if to make sure her point got across she pointed her finger into my chest in accusation. “You sit there and you dismiss Mitch’s problems, because let me tell you that guy has some serious problems. You act like his behaviour is normal which makes it worse! Then you sit there and you mimic him, I don’t think you even realise your doing it, but for some stupid reason you praise his actions.”

Arleigh’s rant is briefly interrupted as the bathroom door swings open causing both our heads to snap in that direction.

“Get out!” We both shout in unison scaring whoever the person was away.

When we are alone again Arleigh lets out a deep sigh before running her fingers through her hair worrying me slightly, she was overthinking, running her fingers through her hair is her overthinking trait.

“I just can’t put up with your friends, the things you do, the things you let others get away with doing, it’s sickening. I’m looking out for myself from now on because I’m done waiting for you to stick up for me, it’s never going to happen.” I can’t help but frown at what Arleigh says. She’s acting like all of this is my fault when I didn’t do a single thing wrong. She’s overreacting! Sure what Mitch said was shitty and out of line but she was taking it too far, becoming one of those over dramatic teens that breaks up over the stupidest things.

I can feel an adrenaline from anger build up inside me as suddenly a million and one different thoughts of what I could say to Arleigh rush through my mind. Yet instead I stand there speechless, unable to form the words I want to say. Frustration is building high inside me and yet for some reason I can’t bring myself to speak them. It’s like my body is completely frozen. I stay in the same position staring down at Arleigh who seems to be waiting on me to say something know I have never been one to shy away from a fight.

She must realise that I’m not going to say anything because she shakes her head and mutters something to herself. Just as she reaches the door she pauses and turns back to me.

“You were always different to all of them, that’s why I respected you so much, that’s why I put up with this shit for so long because I know your better than this. But lately shawn I don’t even know.” She pauses for a moment letting out a sigh and shaking her head in disappointment the same way my dad does when his favourite team looses. She isn’t even looking at me, she is looking directly past me as if I’m not even important enough to acknowledge. “You have fun with Mitch and Layla but just leave me the fuck alone.” And with that she swung the door open leaving me alone in the girls bathroom.

I hate when she talks like that! She can’t make it clear if we are still together or not, instead she has to make things worse by making sure I constantly struggle on knowing where we stand. Does she do it on purpose thinking I will chase after her because this time I won’t. She wants me to leave her the fuck alone then that’s what I’m going to do.

***

“Are you sure you know where your going?” Arleigh pondered aloud, again ,as she watched me take the next turn off to our destination. At the start I had been a little lost especially without my phone for a navigation, I could easily use the navigation in my car but that would ruin the surprise and Arleigh would know where we are going straight away.

Instead all I had to go by was hotel receptionists directions and the tiny map I hid under leg out of Arleigh’s line of sight.

This morning I had woken Arleigh before going to the breakfast buffet and getting us two take away coffees and two muffins for the drive. Arleigh had been confused and I simply shrugged her off  by telling her I made a promise only I wasn’t talking about the promise I made her, I was talking about the promise I made myself last night; that I will give Arleigh a much better birthday than the lousy one she had planned for herself.

Thankfully this car ride hadn’t been as bad as last nights, Arleigh’s burning curiosity distracting both of us too much for any tension to build. As I drive down the streets getting closer to our destination I can’t help but suddenly feel anxious, completely overwhelmed by my nerves. This plan could either work extremely well in my favour or backfire completely, when it comes to Arleigh there was no telling which way it would go.

If she knows where we are, or where we are going, she doesn’t make a show of it as she stares out of the window completely puzzled.

To keep the surprise, and Arleigh’s helpless confusion, lingering a little longer I park a block away and the fact that it was the cheapest parking space I could find was a perk too.

“Will I need my jacket?” Arleigh asks as I pull my backpack from the trunk of my car and throw it over my shoulder, Arleigh’s present rattling inside but thankfully she doesn’t notice.

“Arleigh, how would I know if you need your jacket?” I teased earning  me a glare in response.

“I meant is it going to be cold where we are going? Since someone is too keen on keeping secrets.” She elaborated giving an eye roll at the end as if I should have known what she was hinting at as if  it was common sense.

“Arleigh how am I supposed to know what the temperature is going to be like where we are going? For all I know they could have the air condition on cool to the  point we freeze our asses off, or it could be on heat making us question if we are in the Sahara or not.” My joking around seems to work because she lets out a small giggle before biting down on the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling, something she usually did when she was trying to stay serious or something wasn’t a laughing matter.

“You know what, fine be difficult.” Although she raises her voice at me slightly there is no menace in her tone thanks to her little giggles here and that. “I’ll just shove my jacket in your bag and you can carry it around all day.” She declared before reaching for her jacket and making way for my bag that I quickly move out of her line of reach. Maybe a little too quickly because she starts eyeing me suspiciously as if she knew I was up to something and wasn’t giving her any details what so ever.

Taking her jacket from her I lead the way beginning to walk along the footpath while shoving Arleigh’s jacket into my bag cautiously not to damage her present.  

“Thank you for being careful with my designer forever twenty-one jacket, it cost me a whole life savings of twenty-two dollars.” She smiles in acknowledgement causing me to roll my eyes but give her a small chuckle in response.

“I couldn’t care less if your jacket was twenty dollars or twenty thousand dollars, I was being careful because of my precious belongings in here.” I corrected causing her to roll her eyes again.

“What do you have in there anyway, a bomb? Is your idea of a date to blow me up?”

My body tenses and for a moment I can’t help but wonder is this a date to her. The last person she probably ever wanted to go a date with was me so her comment surprises me. As if realising what she had said Arleigh’s eyes widen and the smile wipes from her face. Her attention is directed anywhere but at me as she mutters an apology of not meaning it and old habits and again that unwanted awkwardness returns, settling between us strong and hard. It was a tease, for a moment I had forgotten about everything and all that remained was the way I felt for Arleigh, the girl that had always been my best friend first. It had been so easy to talk to her like we used to, to tease one another knowing we wouldn’t get offended but now it’s like walking on a tight rope with no net to catch us if we fall.

The last few steps towards our destination seem to drag on forever with our silence but as we make our last turn I notice that Arleigh still has no idea as to where we are. Jolting to a stop I rummage through my bag ignoring Arleigh’s questioning gaze. Unfortunately the only thing in my bag is either Arleigh’s birthday presents or her jacket. Sighing to myself I pull out her jacket and move towards her.  

Deciding that the best way to get rid of the awkward tension between us is by forgetting anything ever happened, from what she had previously said to the six painful months of not talking and even that night, and act like everything between us is fine. If I do that maybe Arleigh will just copy me.

I can’t help but grin at Arleigh as she stares at me confused, she has no idea what I have in plan but I know as soon as I tell her what I have planned.

“I’m to need to blindfold you with this.”   I tell her causing her eyes to widen as her protests begin.

“That is so stupid! Why?”

“Because if I don’t it will ruin the surprise.” This is only half true but as soon as she see the building she will know where we are and what I have planned. Regardless of whether she sees the building I’m sure she will still be surprised but this will only make the outcome better. She might hate me in this very second for it but as soon as I get her to where I want to go she would have completely forgotten about me blind folding her with her jacket.

“It is still a surprise.” She huffs her   stubbornness making its way to the surface but in this moment I don’t hate it, I actually find it adorable how clueless she is right now to what is to come causing me to smile more.

“Fine we will just stand here until you agree.”

We wait a few moments, Arleigh staring me down with a determined glare while I smile broadly knowing it will only irritate her more. She begins tapping her foot and I know she is getting tired of this hopeless stare down because I don’t seem bothered by it at all. I’m not bothered because I know she’s about to give in.

She lets out a huff before turning around and throwing her hands in the air as she shouts a ‘fine have your way.’  I can’t help but cheer silently to myself in triumph knowing I finally got my way with Arleigh, it took six years but I did it.

It took me a few tries to cover her eyes because the jacket was heavy and I didn’t want to suffocate her until I eventually gave up and just left the jacket to rest over her head the way kids do with white sheets on Halloween when they want to dress up like a ghost, only Arleigh’s didn’t make holes cut for her to see through. After  forcing Arleigh to reassure me that she couldn’t see I began to lead the way down the rest of the street becoming as giddy as a child the night before Christmas. When we reach the stairs that led up to the entrance I attempted to couch Arleigh up he stairs but after a few fails where she almost fell face first on the stairs in front of her and both our frustrations rising with each other, and not to mention the attention we were gaining from people passing by, I decided to just pick Arleigh up and carrying her the rest of the way through the front doors, past the severity guard who watched us with a glare of caution mixed with bafflement.

Arleigh hadn’t protested when I picked her up nor when I out her down once we reach the front desk, if anything it was the longest I had seen Arleigh go without talking. All the stuff in the entrance were watching us weirdly causing me to stifle a laugh at how clueless Arleigh was to everything around us.

“Entry for two.” I tell the women who was watching Areligh instead of focusing on me. “We have student cards so I think it’s cheaper.” I tell her causing her to roll her eyes at me. I’m a teenager with no job who lives with his parents and doesn’t even focus on school, if I can get a discount I’m getting one. Thankfully I was left with enough cash in my wallet to pay for our entry and still have enough money for our lunch later today. After the whispered directions from the women who served us, who I’m sure was glad to get rid of us, I lead Arleigh in the direction the lady told us to go.

“Can I take this off yet?” Arleigh protests causing me to groan.

“No!” I huff as I try to figure out which way I’m supposed to be going, was it a left down this hallway or the previous one?

“Do you even know where your going?” Even blindfolded Arleigh still knew me well, she knew me better than anyone else so Im not surprised but it was still a comforting feeling like butter melting on hot toast.

“No.” I laugh in response as she sighs.

After a few more turns and corridors and asking another security guard which way to go I finally make it to our destination smiling to myself.

“Can I take it off yet?” Arleigh asks once we stopped. I’m too busy studying the painting in front of me to answer Arleigh. She’s right it was completely different in person to the replicas she had made at home.

“No!” I shout as she goes to remove the jacket from her head causing the people looking at other artworks in the gallery to stop and stare at us in annoyance. “I have to get you in position.” I whisper hoping that now I have quietened down all the other people visiting the art museum will stop staring at us. For the most part it works.

I help Arleigh move to a decent distance away from the painting and in the middle before removing the jacket instructing her to keep her eyes shut. She does as told and I dump the jacket on the floor on top of my backpack before moving my hands to cover Arleigh’s eyes. My heart races a million miles an hour as I stand so close behind her, my body briefly touching her from behind as my hands cover her eyes, her skin so soft under mine. Suddenly this gesture seems so intimate, not in a way that is sexualised but in the way that two people slowly expose every inch of who they are for each other to see. I can’t reminder the last go,e I felt this close to so,some and I don everything in my power to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can. Even when I led the way for Arleigh or carried her up those stairs I hadn’t felt this close to her. In this moment it felt like she really trusted me, after everything I did to her she still trusted me.

“Shawn?” Arleigh’s voice comes out as barley a whisper but it’s enough to shake me from my trance but what stirred me is the soft tenderness in her tone as if she had felt the feeling I had and understood what it meant. But if she did she doesn’t say  or give any other indications that she has.

My mind falters as I try to think of something to say until I realise that there is nothing to say, I will just let the gesture speak for it’s self. Removing my hands slowly from Arleigh’s eyes I still stay in my position not wanting to move away from Arleigh, if anything I want to move in closer to her. I crane my neck enough to see her expression as she excitedly opens her eyes before they widen completely followed by her body freezing. My heart stops for a moment as I wait for her reaction. Shock was expected but would she love it or hate it?

My still question isn’t answered as her hands move up to cover her mouth as she gasps but then she moves closer to the painting and reaches her hand out to touch it as if to make sure this is real but quickly decides against it remembering that we are in an art museum where the number one rule is not to touch the art work.

She quickly turns around making her way back towards me, she looks like she is about to cry and I feel the longing to reach out and wrap my arms around her but I can’t do that. At first she looks at me waiting for answers until she begins to put the dots together  from the story she told me in the car last night to the forty minute car drive and the surprise trip to somewhere I didn’t know where I was going.

She parts her lips as if to say something but decides against it. Instead she moves closer to me and wraps her arms around my waist before nuzzling her head into my chest. My body becomes as hard as a rock from shock. Arleigh’s body pressed against mine in such a simple way and yet it’s driving me insane inside. Common sense finally kicking in, I wrap my arms around her body hoping to pull her closer to me.

I don’t want to let go but eventually we part. I can’t remember if she pulled away first or if I did, all I remember  was that letting go was the hardest thing I have done in a long time. I was afraid that if I let go of her it would be permanent, and for all I know it is.

“I got you something as well.” I tell her hoping to break whatever had settled between us. It wasn’t that familiar awkward silence because the situation wasn’t awkward right now, Arleigh showed no regret in hugging me and I sure as hell didn’t regret it.

I pull the wrapped gifts from my bag and hand them to her. She carefully unwraps the first one I handed to her which was an art journal and then the second which was a packet of pencils nit wasn’t the best of presents but I figured it would work well enough for her to finally replicate the painting.

“I figured you could just draw it now and then when you get home paint it?” I shrug suggestively. She doesn’t say anything but the expression in her eyes as she looks up at me is answer enough.

Arleigh settles down in a comfortable position at a decent position away from the painting and opens up the journal. I told her that I would go looking around and come back to find her later which she agreed to.

Just as I make my way to leave Arleigh’s voice stops me.

“Thank you,” she said causing me to turn to look at her. “I thought you didn’t care but after today I realise you do.”

tag list: @honeypotmendes @illuminatedestiny @youllbemineandillbeyours @justanotherfangirl272 @clarissityy @bianca-warriorwriter @transparentjudgepicklething

[thedappleddragon]

haha here we go again

there's a lot of dumb ranting and 3 days worth of logs and a dream in here so im gonna spare evryone’s dashboard and just put it all under the cut.

tw bad memories, talk of unhealthy relations with food, and dreams about dead animals

I realized I kind of entirely forgot to write about what I did yesterday? I kind of did a lot. I know my mom wanted to work on getting tile laid out in front of her bathroom, so we worked together to scrub the concrete and wipe up all the dirt and dust and whatever was under the carpet and remove some of the nails in the floor and bring up a spiky metal strip between the bathroom door and where the carpet was. The other main thing I remember is deciding to continue work on my dress, sewing up the outer bodice, checking that the bodice and lining would fit together, deciding I’d rather have no different colored front panel, and working on the circle skirt. At first I tried cutting the fabric on my bed, but it wasn’t big enough and too lumpy. I contemplated asking my friends if I could borrow their dining table, but I ended up clearing off my own. After I traced and was in the middle of pinning, I accidentally knocked over a glass bowl that I had set on the chair. My mom heard it from the other room and had me come to her room to tell her what it was. She got angry at me, which I thought was fuckin stupid if it was an accident, but after some reflection while cleaning up the glass pieces, I kind of understood why. Mostly I got a little upset about 2 ceramic pieces I made during school breaking a little from the drop. One was a mushroom house from middle school that always makes me remember feeling like an asshole during peer review when I told my person to smooth their project more because I didn’t know “no improvement needed” was an option until I got back to my desk and saw my person saying it was good in all categories because everyone thought my project was great for some reason. The other was a bunch of flowers on a circle. It was the last project we did before quarantine hit, I think. That one is in less tough shape, just a couple flowers knocked off and a chip on one of them. They can both be glued back together, I guess. Then my mom called me back into her room to listen to her talk about wanting to eat huge amounts of food, because she’s clinically depressed with BPD and PTSD and DID and several other acronyms and her favorite coping mechanism is food, but her doctor put her on a diet so she can get her knees replaced, but recently she’s been getting into a zone where she talks about wanting to eat entire cakes and pizzas and buckets of kfc and a gallon of queso or whatever the fuck and she goes “doesn’t that sound GOOD?” And I have to laugh along and say “haha no that sounds bad actually” and get her a piece of ham or something. And every time she goes on her spiel the only thing I can think of is the greedy from the raggedy Ann and Andy musical. It’s just this horrible undulating orange blob that eats everything in sight and seeing it for the first time just made me think of mom and it made me very uncomfortable, with all the orange goo and hurling noises. Also reminds me of this horrible video game boss fight where it’s the apocalypse and a fat lady on a scooter took over the buffet and eats so much during her boss fight, during the defeat cutscene she projectile vomits everywhere and dies. My brother Greg showed me that thinking it was funny. I hated it, and I still do. He showed me a lot of things he thought were funny as a shitty little kid, and I remember several of them being very upsetting. It’s ok. I don’t want to dwell on it. But after cleaning the glass and talking to mom I brought my fabric to my room and called it a night. Oh wait my dad also helped me with some paperwork my coworker handed me so I could get on the payroll.

Today I woke up differently than I have in a long time. I set an alarm for 10 am so I could be at work by 11, but I woke up at 9 from a heavy sleep with dreams about hanging out with my friend in my room, worrying about my dirty house. I wanted to sleep longer, so I got up at 10 to have breakfast and get ready. I spent my shift changing the price tags all around the store, making everything more expensive. I’m gonna work again on Tuesday where I’ll learn how to use the register. I hope I don’t fuk it up, but I have a couple days to relax until then. Maybe I’ll work on my dress. My friends all want to go to prom together, so my new deadline will be March 2nd or a little before. I still need to buy a ticket, but I don’t have access to the link to buy one :( bleh I’m too tired right now to worry about this shit. I only worked 4 hours again today, but after I got home I felt like I could have worked longer if they gave me something else to do. The only price tags left to change were a bunch of grills and stuff I don’t know about but I don’t know if they had any other work for my to do. But I’m glad I went home tho because I was hungry and my feet hurt from standing lol. I did laundry and made myself dinner and washed my hair and drew a little bit and made the table and tbh the pacing of today has been so weird I don’t remember everything. It’s only 1am but I think I’m just gonna go to bed. my friends started talking about going to prom, and I really want to join them, but I can't figure out where/how to buy a ticket. my brain started being really mean to me, syaing that I was being annoying and pushy and that they didnt want me at prom for some reason, so I low-key almost made myself cry until my friend offered to let me be their platonic date since their partner couldn't go. 

last night I had a dream about a hard video game where when you played it, the black shadow enemies would fight you in real life, and one of them left imprints on my arm in the shape of lego bricks. they could only attack you so long as you played the game, and they tried to capture people and you were supposed to save them. I decided it was my time to play, and I walked into my garage that had turned into a cave with bat-people fused into the wall. I paid them no mind as I rescued a girl who was my irl brother, grabbing her hand and pulling her into another versoin of my garage which was uncorrupted and normal looking. she thanked me, and I said it was no problem. then I tricked her, telling her not to trust so easily, as I became one of the shadow enemies and engulfed her in a black sack, trapping her and leaving the room. I came back a couple minutes later, letting him free (now my brain told me he was my brother) telling him I just wanted to know if I was capable of tricking him, and didnt actually want to kill him or whatever.  another big chunk of my dream was taken up by me, my sister, and my dad visiting a run down petting zoo/gamestop. the petting zoo barn was very dark with low ceilings with lots of rabbits and pigs and hay. one of us accidentally killed either a pig or a tiger right next to the exit door, and I had to slink around the gamester trying to distract the owner and keep him from going in the barn and escaping at the same time. I dont remember how it ended, other than me waking up with a sore throat from breathing so deeply through my nose. I had slept on my stomach wit my pillow in my face so I could hardly breathe, and even after I woke up I felt like I wasnt getting enough air. I HATE that feeling, I always felt like I was suffocating in middle school for some reason. I thinkk somethings wrong with my airway but im not gonna do anything about it. im gonna continue to spend 80% of my day laying down so my resting heart rate and breathing speed is slower than an goddamn sloth. whatever.

right now as im laying in bed typing this I feel utterly unpoductive but I KNOW I did SOME shit today. but yeah mostly I relaxed. I worked on my dress, removing and replacing the blue front panel. I lost my exacto knife somewhere so I went to dollar tree to get a knockoff, along with snacks for mom and my sister. the blades aren't as sharp as exacto, but I still know where the name brands blades are so maybe Ill try and see if they're compatible. when I open the package everything was oily and gross, so I washed everything off with soap and water before I used them to cut the threads of the panel seams. I could have used my seam ripper but I wanted to get a replacement craft knife anyway. its kinda neat that it came with 6 different shaped blades for different crafts :) but uhh I also cut out the other half of the circle skirt of the dress, and I have a bunch of extra fabric left over. probably enough to make a whole other bodess if I wanted too. I used my sewing machine to attach the new front panel, and I was hoping to get more sewing done tonight, but when I asked my sister if it was ok for me to use my sewing machine (it right next to the wall between our rooms so she can hear it from there) she said she was going to bed soon so I just attatched the front panel and called it a night. so that kinda sucked. I still have another day tomorrow before I have to work again, and I can still work on my dress on Tuesday after work. idk why my brain thinks that one 4 hour shift is gonna take up my entire day lmao. I just have to get the whole thing done by may 2nd. GOD that reminds me, im gonna be so busy next month. I have six events back to back happening like every other day, plus work. oof. I'll have to let my boss know, but idk If that's gonna make him mad. I've already got pretty comfortable with the lady in charge of the garden center who’s taken lead position while the manager is on vacation, but I dont think I;ll every understand my boss. he’s a sarcastic busy old man and NOT AT ALL approachable. whatever. really the only other tings I did today were drink a shit ton of water play harvest moon, spend too much time on tiktok, and sraw a couple dum things for my friends’ princess au. I fucking HATE the drawing I did for Anna, so I designed her a secondary outfit more inspired by sky pirate bohemian vibes, since she rules over the floating islands. idk if I'll replace her old outfit with the new one in the lineup or just re-draw her old one with better shapes and composition and match the style better or what. I just need it changed eventually becasuse it looks like ass. tbh now that ve taken a little bit of time away from the princess au, there are a couple designs im not 100% satisfied with. but I know that if I go back and make them more detailed or whatever the’ll be more of a hassle to draw and aslkdfhalksdf I dont know anymore. I'm still tied up about color pallets and trying to give everyone a distinct color, and im a little upset it doesn't quite work, and FUCK dude the edgy one’s lore and character are weird and I kind of want to revise it to make it a little nicer but its not my character and I need to stop shoving my dirty little mitts into everyone’s ocs and AHAGHRGHGARGHHG idk man. her power is necromancy and she has a skeleton army, which I think I kinda cool, but I also think it would be neat if her powers extended beyond just that to communing with the dead, helping them find rest, and THEN maybe it can branch into helping fallen soldiers fight again to help them with unfinished buisness. and then if she goes feral and starts abusing her powers, she ignores all the communication and concent with the dead and instead magically rips them from thr ground to do her bidding and they’re uncontrollable and violent and aimless, just like her mind slipping from the magical blight infecting her. idk man we’re till working on a lot of lore. her concept could be SO COOL with just that little bit of extra thought, but so far it’s just MY POWER IS DEATH IM SO EDGY. ugh I know its fuckin rude to bash your friends oc ideas and I might be too overbearing and controlling of this au but dammit im tired and im mean sometimes and my ego is through the goddamn roof and im so sexy and im always right and my meat is huge. ah shit I rpomised my friend I would help her with character design for the dead king but I was busy when she firat asked me and now im not busy but im not doing it ugh. im just frustrated right now because I spent wayyyy to fuckin long just laying in bed watching tikotks and youtube and playing harvest moon an doing jack shit all day. but hey at least I attempted to get a new social security card again today. and them promptly gave up when they said my adress was invalid. again. I feel like im in an uncomfortable medium between having no plans and worrying about the future and having too many plans all the time oh my god. ive been so focused on getting a job and then having a job and making this dress I completely forgot about college shit. thankfully there's no hard deadlines coming up that I haven't already finished. whatever I dont really want to worry about all this hit right now, im just gonna take it one day at a time. (haha it feels like my angel oc just stepped in. how nice of him :) )

[purplesurveys]

1050

survey by chihuahua

1~ What quality do you value most highly in others? Loyalty. Those who can stick with me through the highs, lows, and all the boring stuff. I appreciate low-maintenance friendships.

2~ Are you more aggressive or mellow? Um idk, it depends on the situation I guess. I have a non-confrontational side, but at the same time I’m also quite vocal over issues I’m passionate about. Just last weekend I made the lunch table at a family reunion awkward because Jake Zyrus suddenly became the topic of conversation; I could feel the wave of transphobic comments about to come from the oldies, so I made sure I was one step ahead of the Gen X-ers and Boomers and saying that transphobia isn’t going to fly by at the table, so they shouldn’t even try. That’s the most recent instance I remember having to get aggressive.

3~ Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My parents. Dad has mostly worked abroad and I never got to see him for longer than a month all my life until Covid hit and he was forced to stay here. Mom has worked thousands of overtime shifts and was always on changing shifts throughout my childhood.

4~ Do you take any vitamins or medication? No. We have a constant supply of Vitamin C tablets for the family, but I stopped taking it regularly since like May because pure laziness. I don’t take any medication.

5~ Do you want to grow old with someone? I wish this was my reality, yes.

6~ Do you treat others better or worse than yourself and why? Better. I’m still working on liking/loving myself.

7~ What sound is annoying you right now? Nothing comes to mind right now, but an hour ago we were having our virtual company Christmas party and since there were nearly 60 people in the Google Meet and I also still had some deliverables I needed to finish, my laptop couldn’t take it and started whirring its fan. That was a little annoying.

8~ Where was your last vacation to? Hasn’t changed. It was still Tagaytay and Cavite. As much as I’d like to take a vacation somewhere, I think all places require you to take a swab test and that’s a big pass for me. Nothing’s going in my nostrils and down my throat or however far down it goes.

9~ Where was your last car ride to? Aside from back home, I was headed to Feliz. After that I also stopped by the local Starbucks to try and redeem a planner for my mom, but they don’t have the variation that she wants :(

10~ Where did you last walk to? To the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.

11~ What gives you a peaceful feeling? Evening drives. I don’t care how bad the traffic is; there’s just something about driving at night that makes me feel very much at peace. It was better when I had the person I love with me; but driving alone isn’t bad too.

12~ Are you a light sleeper? No. I’m very likely to sleep through earthquakes.

13~ When you sleep next to someone who usually falls asleep first? They do. I’m always the last one to fall asleep, no matter who it is I’m next to.

14~ How many people have a piece of your heart? Kinda corny question, but one, I guess. It’s ridiculous that they still do, but I can’t help it.

15~ What do your salt and pepper shakers look like? Nothing too fancy in this home lol. We have a plain tub containing our salt. I don’t actually know what our pepper container/shaker looks like; we may just have the McCormick variant of pepper.

16~ When was the last time you hurt yourself? On purpose or accidentally? Hahahaha uhm I cut my finger trying to open a bottle of soju last week, and it bled pretty bad.

17~ Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country? Right now, I’d love a city environment. I’ve lived far too long in quiet suburban neighborhoods and a change in scenery would be nice. I hope I don’t end up feeling too lonely in the city, though.

18~ Have you ever built something? Other than Lego towers I made as a kid, I was never the building type. I’d rather have all my items in complete form when I get them.

19~ Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user? I’m more a giver than any of these other labels. I feel happy from making people happy and comfortable.

20~ Do you take naps? I love naps but I avoid them now. I have very little free time these days as I’m always swamped with work even during holidays and weekends, so when I do have little bits of spare time I want to spend them awake and doing something productive and catching up on my hobbies. I think this’ll be my new normal now :(

21~ Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute? Early for the people I love most. For everyone else I do it kinda late-ish, heh.

22~ Do you laugh when there is no joke and dance when there is no music? I do the laughing thing occasionally, but I only dance if there’s music.

23~ If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say? That they recognize the things I do for other people. I know it’s best to do things because you want to and not to be recognized and I stand by that myself, but I just want the reassurance that I’m seen. At least just once. 

24~ What is the dirtiest habit you can think of? Biting one’s toenails, trying your own earwax, or not changing your underwear for several days.

25~ Do you ever need 'quiet time'? For sure; I think all of us do.

26~ Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for th Survey-maker didn’t get to finish this question, but the first scenario sounds painful enough. I can’t even begin to imagine the hurt a parent would feel if they had to go to the wake of their own kid.

27~ What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift? A copy of WWE Encyclopedia that was like 1/3 or 1/4 its original price. I remember not having a lot of savings left from that week but I still went ahead and bought the book because it was such a crazy good deal.

28~ What is one selfish thing you tend to do? I am not at all the poster child of selfishness... I’ve never felt comfortable doing things for myself. Everything’s always been for other people, and I rarely leave room for me, if at all. The most selfish thing I do is that I hate sharing my food, but even then I still share my favorites with the people I love.

29~ What kinds of people do you find intimidating? I try not to get intimidated by anyone because we all just go through the same shit at the end of the day, so idk. People in higher positions can sometimes be scary, but I’m not as intimidated by them as I used to be.

30~ Out of everyone you know who has the most unique personality? Maybe Andrew/Andi? They can fit in any crowd and can make a conversation last with absolutely anyone, which I find unique as not everyone’s able to do so.

31~ When do you do your best thinking? I always have to be able to think on my feet for work. Public relations is a pretty hectic landscape and communications is super crucial in it.

32~ What was a choice that you didn't want to make but you had to? The breakup. All that wasted time and effort make me nauseous.

33~ Have you ever written a letter to a soldier? No.

34~ What does your favorite coffee mug look like? This question is e v e r y w h e r e. It’s a copper Starbucks mug.

35~ What age do you think it is most difficult to be? I don’t think it’s fair to compare. Everyone goes through their own set of struggles no matter what age they are.

36~ Do you think you could handle a day in jail? Not the ones here.

37~ Who is the most overbearing person you know? My mom can definitely be one.

38~ Have you ever been on a trampoline? Yes :) Rita has one in her house and it was a lot of fun jumping on it. It was a huge one too; 7 or 8 of us were playing on the trampoline at one point.

39~ What do you use batteries for the most often? I haven’t had to use those in a while. I guess remote controls? Even though I barely touch those anymore.

40~ Would you prefer to wrap your own presents or have them all gift wrapped? I don’t how to wrap presents, so I asked my sister to do it for me in exchange for money hahahahaha. That might be my new Christmas practice from here on out.